#he is evil bloodsucking beast | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

undermounts · 29 days

Text

bite the hand - chapter 4: false idol of mine

pairing: Astarion/The Dark Urge

summary: Astarion helps her hide the body. Romance ensues.

chapter preview:

The following evening, there is a devil in their campsite.

And it isn’t Karlach.

Read it on Ao3

The next morning, Astarion’s tribunal ends without bloodshed, much to Irileth’s immense relief.

It comes a little close once (Lae’zel unsheathing her greatsword, she holds it like an executioner’s axe—‘Bloodsucker!’) but cooler heads prevail. Namely Wyll’s, of all people.

“At ease everyone,” he says placatingly. “There is no need to spill blood on peaceful ground.”

“I’m sorry, but aren’t you some sort of monster hunter?” Gale interjects, frowning. “I feel as though I am experiencing a disconnect between that title and what is taking place here.”

“Monster,” Lae’zel clarifies. “So, hunt. Our course of action seems quite clear to me.”

“Vampire he may be, but Astarion is no beast,” Wyll explains. “He’s just a spawn. I’m more concerned about his former master.”

“Just a spawn?” Astarion echoes, miffed. But he bites his tongue when Lae’zel’s reaffirms her grip on her sword. “Of course. There are, as they say, bigger fish to fry. I will happily point you in the right direction. A gesture of goodwill, Wyll. ”

Oh, dear gods, Irileth thinks, vexed. Astarion truly is dedicated to his own demise.

“I didn’t say you were harmless,” Wyll retorts and it is clear from his tone that he doesn’t mean that as the compliment Astarion surely thinks it is. “I am only saying being a spawn does not automatically equate to being completely evil. Many are turned without their consent.”

Astarion sneers. “My, my, aren’t you well informed.”

“If you are evil,” Wyll continues, “you can rest assured knowing that I will not let you roam free. For now, consider this your probation. You’d best behave yourself.”

On and on it goes until Astarion is left alone, thoroughly scrutinized but ultimately unstaked. And for all of the threats he received, he looks remarkably unbothered. Smug even. Across the clearing, he meets Irileth’s gaze and smirks.

She’s moving toward him before she’s even realized. Damn it.

“That went quite well, don’t you think?” Astarion says glibly as she approaches. He gestures to himself. “No wooden stakes in my heart. Today is shaping up to be a splendid day.”

“You are certainly in a good mood,” Irileth replies, giving him a once over. Again, looking at him now in the full light of day, the change in him is subtle but considerable. He stands taller, prouder, and not (only) in the arrogant, preening way he did before, when he still pretended to be a noble. He is confident. Secure.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I feel incredible. Powerful. Ready to take on the world!” He grins, laughing lightly, and closes his eyes. His words become more hushed as he continues on, voice full of so much wonder. “I’ve imagined it so many times, but I never thought…I never thought it would feel like this. That I could feel like this.”

“Blood really has this sort of effect on you?”

“Yours does, certainly,” Astarion teases, and his gaze is lidded when he looks at her. “Animals, beasts… not nearly so much.”

“It’s no wonder Cazador forbid us from drinking it.” Astarion suddenly looks away and his fingers fumble with the metal fastenings of his new gloves. His resentment is made clear in the tense lines around his mouth and the deep furrow of his brow. “Why waste perfectly good blood on a bunch of slaves?”

Cazador. Master.

Irileth saw glimpses of the vampire lord through Astarion’s mind last night, though she never got a full look. Oil slick hair, grey skin, and glowing red eyes. She can hear his voice, though there are no distinguishable words, only an aura of malice.

(Gods help the wretch if she ever finds him; she will crack his chest wide open and construct a shrine with his ribs.)

“But I’m not his slave anymore,” he says fiercely, more to himself than her. “I’m free. Conveniently lost. And I’m never going back. Now,” he adds, looking at her, “you all know what I am. Which means I can fight with everything at my disposal—fangs included.”

His smile is all teeth and challenge, which reminds Irileth of the question that has been floating about her head ever since she awoke that morning. “How often do you need it? Blood from people.”

“Mmm, hard to say, really,” he hums, shooting for nonchalant as he examines his cuticles. “Depends on what we do. If we’re just traveling, engaging in some light fighting from time to time?” A shrug. “Then a little nibble every now and then will do just fine. Perhaps when a ripe neck presents itself in a fight?”

Irileth raises a brow. “And if we’re pushing it?”

Astarion’s eyes are intent on hers. His voice drops to a low tenor, purring, “Then I’ll take anything and everything I can get.”

How quickly his moods change! It is nearly dizzying, but despite herself, Irileth feels her insides turn molten. Her brain positively lights up with the fresh memory of him pressed into her back, teeth in her neck. How Astarion groaned when he first pierced her skin, mouth full with the taste of her.

Astarion smiles like they are indulging in the same memory. Then, he reaches out and brushes Irileth’s hair off of her shoulder with a feather light touch. Just when she thinks he is going to caress her neck and the tender marks that still sit there, his fingers alight on the buckle of her armor, adjusting the strap.

With truly—cursedly—impeccable timing, Wyll calls out from the edge of camp where he and Lae’zel stand ready to depart. Irileth must be unwittingly glaring at Astarion because he laughs lowly as he pulls away, all melted sugar and rich smoke.

“Let’s go hunt a devil, darling,” he purrs with his trademark, sinful smirk. “I think it’s high time for you to see just what you’ve done to me, too.”

A little blood, it seems, goes a long way.

With ease, they tear through the gnolls and bloated hyenas that roam in pockets around the Risen Road. Irileth sees now that before Astarion had supped of her blood, he wasn’t even close to reaching his full potential. Being well fed has made him stronger. Faster, too. Better.

He doesn’t fight like she does. Dancing through the thick of it; she waffles between striking where she is most needed and appearing where she is least expected. Prior to last night, Astarion mostly kept to the edges of a fight, but now he dips in and out of the fray—unseen arrow, hidden knife.

It delights Irileth every time his arrow pierces the throat of a beast in her radius, or whenever he drops down from his vantage point, a dark blur limned in silver, and drives his daggers into the back of her immediate foe, priming her death blow.

Lae’zel and Wyll are terrors in their own right. Lae’zel’s unflagging stamina and devastating swings complement Wyll’s concentrated blasts of magic to wheedle the gnolls down. But the two rogues working in tandem are the pressure point upon which the hordes break.

The whole thing is glorious, if not a little repulsive (hyenas whimper-writhing, distended bellies bulging, bursting!) and provides some very fascinating insight into the other uses of their illithid stowaways. When they find the gnoll pack leader, the tadpole twitches, pulses, and Irileth forces her way into her mind without hesitation. She sees the creature’s insatiable hunger, her spoiled devotion to the Voice.

(A bloodied handprint smeared across a slab of stone, it melts into a skull. They yearn to eat the world whole, but the Voice is unrelenting, all encompassing. Absolute.)

Poor, loathsome creature. It would be kinder for Irileth to just kill it, kill it like she has killed all the rest. But the urge within gnashes its teeth.

If you are so hungry, Irileth coaxes into the pack leader’s mind, forcing it to turn its attention to its remaining fellow gnoll hunters, to see them from a new, bloodier perspective. Then feast.

The following evening, there is a devil in their campsite.

And it isn’t Karlach.

Wyll is bound to Mizora, a gods damned devil, member of the Archdevil Zariel’s inner circle. Selfishly, Irileth feels betrayed. She had hoped… He is supposed to be a hero. Pride of the Gate. The Blade of Frontiers.

And now? Now, Irileth doesn’t know.

Serves her right, she supposes, for being so naive as to fall for his chivalrous and heroic persona. A facade, she thinks bitterly—all of it. Astarion would tell her that she is the worst kind of fool—the hopeful kind—for actually believing that once Wyll completed his hunt and was freed of his duty, he would transform into some sort of knight in shining armor, just like in his stories, and put everything to rights. In the end, she is just as responsible for her own disappointment, for believing that Wyll—that anyone else—could save her.

This is quickly becoming a trend, it seems: her being repeatedly tricked by her companions into seeing one thing while reality is quite another.

After Mizora vanished in a blazing puff of fire and smoke, Wyll retreated from the heart of camp to sulk alone by the river. Irileth studies his unfamiliar silhouette, the new horns that curl back from his head.

“Poor guy,” Karlach sighs, kicking the dirt. “Mizora’s a nasty one. There is literally no one in all of Avernus more unpleasant than her. Except Zariel. Fucking devils man.”

At least one good thing came out of all of this, Irileth reminds herself. Karlach’s presence burns beside her, heat rolling off of the barbarian in waves. Irileth maintains what she thinks might be a safe distance, eyeing the flames that lick off of Karlach’s red skin. They’ve all seen first hand today just how hot Karlach can burn, and she has no intention of feeling it as well (even though a part of her fantasizes about it, craves it).

Irileth and the others watched from the road as the toll house smoldered to ruins. The sound of wood snapping and glass shattering echoed from within, and above it all, there was Karlach whooping and hollering in all of her frenzied rage.

“I’m free! Free! AhaHAHAHAHAHA! And I’m NEVER. GOING. BACK! ”

“You’re taking all of this in stride,” Irileth replies now, picking at the side of her thumb. It eases some part of her, to have something to do with her hands. Due to her personal commitment to keep her blades sheathed at camp, she has resorted to this: clawing up her own skin like an undisciplined child.

“It’s hard not to,” Karlach answers, and, evidently also not one to keep still, she bounces from side to side on the balls of her feet. “Don’t mean to monologue, but you’ve got no idea what it’s like, soldier, to finally be free of the Avernus after ten. Long. Years! ” She laughs triumphantly again. “And Wyll! Gods, I’ve gotta be honest—I’m reeling. He barely knows me, and still! He chose my life over his. Been a long time since someone stuck their neck out for me.”

Irileth raises her brows. “You don’t think he’ll go back on his decision? Go back to hunting you to get back into Mizora’s favor?”

“Nah. No way.” Karlach waves her hand dismissively. “I’ve spent years dealing with cambions and their ilk. I know how to identify a liar and a swindler. Wyll is a good man. When he was chasing me through Avernus, I thought he was just another sad merc. How wrong I was.”

That gives Irileth pause. They have drastically different interpretations of tonight’s revelations, it seems. Maybe—no. Amiable as Karlach is, Irileth doesn’t want her opinions to be swayed so easily. This is her weakness, she has come to realize: her dependence on her companions’ insight and information to fill in the yawning chasm of her memory. But how to avoid it, when her cratered brain is filled with so many holes?

“So… You wanna give Wyll a pep talk, or should I?” Karlach asks, picking at bits of ash that are speckled around her broken horn, caught in her hair. Then, she drops her hands, swinging her arms around. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your inner dialogue or whatever. You were staring at him for a while, though.”

Irileth shakes her head, rubbing her eyes. Hells, is she tired today. Irileth, in fact, does not want to give Wyll a pep talk. What Irileth wants is to crawl into her tent, and sleep for an age. But wounds fester and Wyll is practically bleeding shame everywhere.

“I’ll talk to Wyll,” she decides wearily. As for that pep talk? She’ll see.

“Oh, and Karlach?” Irileth halts in her tracks, turning around.

“What’s up?”

“We’ll find you a mechanic as soon as possible,” Irileth promises her. “We’re going to fix your heart and get you home.”

Karlach’s grin is even brighter than her flames. “I appreciate you, you know that? Gods, I would smooch that little face of yours if I didn’t think I’d melt it off! First Wyll, and now you—this is the best day ever.”

Irileth smiles at Karlach’s back as she goes bounding over to where the rest of their party sits around the campfire, chatting and eating their rations. It’s only been a handful of hours, but everyone adores Karlach, Irileth included. There is such a light about Karlach, and Irileth cannot help but be drawn in by it; why anyone would try so hard to subject her to so much darkness is beyond Irileth.

“Karlach, my fiery friend!” Astarion looks up when Karlach joins the circle, and his fangs glint in the low light as he exclaims, “Settle a debate for Lae’zel and I, will you? In your opinion, what is the best way to kill a devil? I’m thinking it’s beheading.”

How adorable. The camaraderie that has sprouted up amongst her companions is so sweet it makes her sick. Irileth hurriedly turns away from the others and her smile melts from her lips, vision rimming with red.

Beheading, she muses. A quick death. Too quick. As she makes for the river, Irileth can’t help but wonder: would Karlach’s head still burn if severed from her body?

“Oh. Irileth. You startled me.” Wyll’s head snaps up when she approaches his spot on the riverbank. Illuminated by the light of the full moon, their reflections warp and ripple in the swift moving water—hers pale and ghoulish, his dark and distorted. Wyll gestures to the fallen tree behind him. “You’re welcome to sit, though I’m afraid I will make foul company tonight.”

“Foul company. Is that because you’re in a pact with a fiend?” Irileth asks bluntly as she ignores his offer and stands above him with her arms folded. She’s being unfair, she knows that. But it still smarts, the darkness she feels that she has been left in, without a guiding light.

“You don’t mince words, do you?” Wyll laughs mirthlessly, shaking his head. “I was referring to my presently poor attitude, but that too.”

Irileth is angry with him and she doesn’t quite know why. Or rather, she does know why, but not how to articulate it. Wyll doesn’t know the sadistic thoughts that churn in her vile little head. After all, Irileth has tried in vain not to let her sickness show, fearing what her companions might do to her (and what she might do to them in return) if they saw her true, darkest self. How to tell him—that she is mad at him for failing to rescue her before he even knew to try?

Instead, she draws up something one of their companions (Gale, she thinks) said after Mizora disappeared and Wyll retreated to isolation, tail tucked between his legs in shame. “If there’s a devil at the other end of your leash, she was bound to come around sooner or later.”

Wyll only winces and nods despondently, contemplating his strange reflection before him.

“You should have mentioned your pact, Wyll,” Irileth adds, but the rebuke falls flat on her own ears.

(She thinks of Astarion, unbidden: ‘I spent two centuries at someone else’s mercy.’ He needs someone to blame; this too, cannot also be his fault. ‘You can see why I didn’t trust you at first.’ )

They all have their reasons for keeping secrets, she supposes.

“Did it hurt?” Irileth asks when Wyll still does not rise to her bait, gesturing toward his new appearance. Sharp ridges of scar tissue-like flesh cut across his cheekbones and down his neck, looking for all the world as if someone had snatched Wyll up and carved a crude set of gills into his skin. Even his remaining good eye has been changed to something demonic: inky black scleras that encroach upon a ring of brightest red.

“When Mizora sent me through the Hells? Yes. More than anything I have ever felt before,” Wyll says bitterly, lips twisting with disgust as picks up a stone along the shore and rubs it between his fingers. “But now? The only thing my appearance harms now is my pride. A petty punishment from my petty patron.” His mouth suddenly forms a snarl. “Gods damn her!”

Irileth is silent as Wyll lobs the stone into the river, scattering his warbled reflection into tiny shimmering droplets. He whirls on her, teeth bared with disgust and pain. “Look at me! I did what was right, and Mizora punished me for it. When I made my pact, we had an agreement: I would be hunting devils and demons, traitors and hypocrites! Heartless evils—not Zariel’s victims, not innocent tieflings.”

Then, evidently exhausted by his outburst, Wyll sags forward like a puppet cut from his strings, resting his arms on his knees.

“You must think me a sham. And you would be right.” The moonlight glints off the ridges of his curled horns as Wyll hangs his head dejectedly. “It’s Mizora who grants me my power, but even that is a shadow of what it once was, now that we’ve been tadpoled. By the Helm, what have I become?”

Irileth feels a pang of sympathy (Soft-hearted whelp! She should cut that thing out—quick! Before it cleanses her foul and festering rot!) and her resolve against Wyll defrosts. He looks so miserable, like a wounded dog.

“Why did you make the pact with Mizora?” Irileth questions, because for some reason, it is important to her, to know how the Blade really came to be, and how much of him is real.

She wants to know how badly she misunderstood him.

“Because I had to,” Wyll states firmly, clutching his hand to his chest. “I told you before—of the time I realized the Coast needed a defender. The realm is too big for one man alone; what is a lone rapier to a horde of goblins? A band of cultists? I needed to be more. Someone who could actually help.”

“I understand that, but was there truly no one else you could have bargained with?” Irileth grapples blindly for any information she knows about warlocks and pacts, though of course, she comes up nearly empty handed. “A different being. The archfey?”

“It’s not that simple, and I’m afraid I cannot do much to clarify.” Will sighs wearily although his expression remains kind, if not a touch wry. “Literally. I am forbidden by my pact to tell you the details of how it came to be. Just know that my deal with Mizora was not sought prior, nor was it expected. If there is anything to be learned from my sorry tale it is that devils only come when there are no other options, and not a moment before.”

“So, what? Mizora forced you into your deal?” She wants him to say yes.

“I only wish I could be as blameless as you think I am. But no.” Wyll unsheathes his rapier and holds it up, the sharp blade like quicksilver beneath the moon. Irileth catches his reflection in it, his new devil-marked eye. “Mizora may have forced my hand, but I still decided to make the pact. Because someone had to. Everything I have done since has been for the good of the people. And so I cannot regret it, not even now.”

Wyll turns away from his reflection, closing his eyes. “No matter what kind of horror she has made me into.”

Slowly, over the course of Wyll’s confession, Irileth’s anger deflated; now, it abandons her entirely. Hells.

When they first met, Irileth had thought him unflappable. Unchangeable. She’d looked upon the Blade of Frontiers, saw his easy confidence and warm smile, and thought that this was a man who not only knew no shame, but also never had reason to know. She’d never considered him to be capable of holding such regret nor so much self-loathing.

No, she hadn’t been that kind. She didn’t want him to be more than what she thought he was.

Now, Irileth lowers herself to sit beside Wyll and lightly touches her hand to his shoulder. Wyll looks up in surprise.

“You’re still you, Wyll,” Irileth tells him, although a part of her recognizes she is convincing herself as much as him. “Horns or no, you’re still you.”

She wants to believe in the Blade of Frontiers. She wants to believe that some things can still be saved, even if she isn’t one of them.

Wyll stares at her, a bit starry eyed. Then he smiles sadly and puts his hand over hers. “I’ve let you down, Irileth. I know that.” He sighs heavily, then releases her to put his hand over his heart once more. “But I promise, I will make it up to you. You have my word.”

Irileth withdraws, a protest on her lips. She is at once flattered and… disquieted by his vow. He should not be beholden to her, no one should—it is too much pressure, to be the person someone looks to for approval and guidance.

Irileth squirms. She really had been unfair to Wyll from the start.

Fortunately—or maybe, unfortunately—Irileth is spared from responding. Something snaps in the brush behind them, and in an instant, both Wyll and Irileth are on their feet. Wyll, having already drawn his blade, steps forward, placing himself between camp and their unseen interloper.

Irileth is unarmed, but she knows—oh she knows that her hands require no daggers to reap death. (Open palm and fingers splayed, all the better to feel the sternum crack.)

“Show yourself!” Wyll demands, and (bless him, he still thinks she needs protecting) gestures for Irileth to stand back. “I’ll not suffer any sneaks or thieves tonight.”

His rapier begins to shimmer with green fiendish power and eldritch energy swarms around his clenched fist, ready to fire.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Someone—a familiar voice—shouts, and a woman stumbles forward out of the shadowed forest. A jumble of color, pale blue and purple, like the leaves of an autumncrocus flower. “It’s me!”

Alfira.

#bg3 #astarion #astarion x durge #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #baldur's gate 3 #the dark urge #durge #bg3 fic #baldur's gate

2 notes · View notes

idrisnnet-archive · 3 years

Text

our souls at their prime

IDRISNNET’S Halloween Event

Week 3 Day 2: A Ghostwriter AU

Words:

Lucie -> a vampire, Jesse -> an unseelie prince

the idea just sort of stuck? anyway i hope you all like it!

Castle De Luna, Transylvania

The sky was unrelenting. The sky was unrelenting. The rain refused to leave a hint of the barren earth to be shown. Thunder competed with its furious claps, while lightning struck every spare space it could find. If one observed the lightning’s motion near the north tower of the castle, they could glimpse a shadow by the window of the highest floor, clothed all in pitch black.

Rumour said, she was a vampire.

She came from a long line of bloodsuckers, beasts who ravaged the townspeople and caused enough mayhem for the public. And yet, they kept coming back, venturing into their estate and feasting their eyes on the vampires. Truth be told, it was not just their innate quality of charmspeak. They were all, in a phrase, hauntingly attractive.

Her father had been proposed to by many a lady fair, and their mother had been kidnapped by a wicked wizard to be forced into a marriage with him. Her brother had been enchanted by the evil Unseelie Queen to fall in love with her daughter, but the contrary had ensued. He’d eloped with a mundane girl who wore daisies in her wild red hair.

Even now, Lucie’s heart beat thinking of her. Although the hearts of the undead never beat.

Wonder was expressed at Lucie’s inability to find someone. It’s because she writes all day. Her bloodlust isn’t strong enough. Get her a man already, what kind of parents are you? What sort of a child are you raising?

Her father had banished all the servants who had spoken against her. Now there was only Bridget, the cook, and thank the heavens for her. She’d been the one to find the faerie boy.

And now, Lucie could meet him again. Once a year. That was the law.

~~~

Jesse was late, he knew that. He also knew that no matter the time, she would be waiting for him.

He crossed the drawbridge over the moat filled with deadly snakes, and sneaked past the cloaked mundane guards, already asleep. And from there, he could see. Standing at the window, her ghastly pallor not unlike his own.

Their eyes met, and Jesse could feel blood rush into his veins, pumping furiously. He could not explain their connection, nor could he give it a try. The thread that wound itself around their souls was light to the touch, and even purer to the effect.

He felt a bat alight on his shoulders. “Took you long enough.”

“I must apologize, my lady. The Unseelie Queen watches over me every night lest I fall into a deathlike trance.”

He felt her flinch. She’d changed back, her soft chestnut-brown hair falling over her frail countenance. His fingers ached to weave themselves in it.

“Not under my watch.” Lucie’s words had a hint of finality, as they always did. Every year, Jesse could remember seeking her help to rid himself of the curse, and every year, he bore the torment of watching her confidence shred into disappointment when the spells failed.

He knew he had to tell her soon. He simply lacked the nerve to do it.

“You were able to steal it, right? The thorn apple?”

Jesse handed over the thorn apple from his suit, and said, “Gwyn had his back turned. It was easy to sneak it out of the room.”

Seeing Lucie’s face light up, he shivered. He had to tell her the truth.

“Then come on. Come with me. The spell works best at midnight.”

~~~

The potion was almost in effect. She sensed the ingredients come together inside the swirl of pink and blue, and she saw the new mix of maroon forming in the middle, like new life springing from her soul.

Vampires were not supposed to perform witches’ tricks. If she were discovered, she would be burned at the stake.

Taking a flask from the table, she picked up some of the fluid and brought it to Jesse’s lips. “Drink,” she said, nudging it against his mouth.

“Lucie, I’m not sure-”

“Trust me. Please.”

There was a tentative flicker of emotions in Jesse’s eyes. She could see it all.

He finally opened his lips, taking the flask from her hand and gulping the potion down. She saw his hands shake slightly as the potion seeped into the poisonous veins in his body, wiping the curse off, wiping every trace of it, every little bit-

Jesse was still the same. Nothing had changed.

“What did I do wrong?” Words left her mouth before she could stay mute. “This was... the last straw. I was hoping I would not have to use the only remaining option.”

“Lucie, stop,” Jesse begged her, gazing into her pale blue eyes with some sort of electrifying intensity. “You have helped give me something to look forward to, and that is like a life to me. I ask you not to attempt anything further. I am ever grateful to you for- for everything.” His voice broke on the last word.

“No.” Lucie cut short his statements. “No, Jesse. My whole life, I have yearned for mysteries - to come past them, to touch them with my hands, to solve them. I am a writer, and life for me is an exciting mystery. When I met you, I knew we were destined to meet. You are that mystery I was always meant to solve. Hence, I cannot let you go so fast. There is one last thing I can do for you, one last trial which can change everything. But as I happen to know, you barely have much time left.”

She ignored the look of horror on his face as he came to the realization. Lucie had always known what would happen. And Lucie had even prepared to do what she would, at that final moment.

It broke her heart then, seeing him so painfully vulnerable. One pounce, and her fangs were sinking into his neck.

~~~

A wayward son. He had always wanted to leave the kingdom and fight. He had seen his people struggle and he had wanted to join them.

And his mother had forbid him to.

He had run away. He had been acquainted with three other faerie knights from the kingdom. One of them had fallen in love with a mundane boy, breaking the rules of the fey. They’d both been buried near the lake of water lilies.

His sister had been young when their mother had bought her, and had begun to torment her mind and soul. He knew he was his sister’s only companion. He would have given his life for her.

Had she lived.

He’d taken her place, bearing her curse. He’d felt his life slipping away before his eyes. Every little movement pained him. Every single emotion broke him.

He had chosen to die. He had gone to the Castle to be killed by enemies. Instead, he had been given a second chance.

A wayward girl. The one who did not pain him. The one who did not break him.

The one he would have to leave someday.

~~~

It still hadn’t worked.

Lucie had no clue what she had been expecting, but this was not it. This, Jesse lying on the floor, his essence leaving him. Her being able to see the floor through his skin. Like it had never been there in the first place.

She could taste something bitter in her mouth. Hot tears mixing with the blood on her fangs. She knew she could not wash away the lingering taste of betrayal and disgust.

She tore her eyes away from the dying prince. She could not bear to watch.

“Did you really think that would work?”

Lucie flinched away as Jesse stood up slowly, giving her a murderous glare. The wounds in his neck had disappeared, but the wounds in his heart would never.“

You cannot change what’s written in the stars, Lady Lucie. And you certainly cannot do to me as you please without my approval.”

“I- I just wanted to keep you here with me-”

“So you would keep me here with you for eternity?” Her head was spinning at Jesse’s thunderous voice. “You would keep me here the way you like? How could you be so selfish, Lucie? I placed all my trust in you.”

She allowed shame to embrace her as she almost fell to the ground in misery. “I am sorry. I am so deeply sorry, Jesse, for I would do anything to keep you. To save your life. The Queen has done you a great wrong, and I must right it. I have to right it. It is only that I love you, Jesse. I cannot bear it if you leave me.”

Her sobs racked her body. She covered her face with her thin fingers, to hide herself from the agonizing view outside.

But suddenly, her hands were torn away from her face. And someone - not someone, it couldn’t be- was drawing her into strong arms, kissing her.

If her heart could beat, she would be dead twice over. Dead in the arms of the one she’d just saved. The irony.

“If only you had told me earlier,” Jesse whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. She felt like they were conjoined, sharing the same thoughts, the same joys and pains. “They say a vampire’s blood can save your life, if they share your promises.”

“What promises?” She now remembered biting her cheek while drinking from Jesse’s neck. Her blood had seeped into his wound.

“Promises of love, lady. You said... you told me something I would not have dared to believe.”

Lucie smiled through her tears. “That I love you? That I desire you? That I lie awake thinking of you every night, waiting for this one day every year? Surely you must have known.”

“I was unaware.” Jesse’s grave voice shook her inside. “I thought I would die loving you in silence.”

“Jesse.” She leaned up to kiss him again, her lips shifting against his, softly, gently, with the touch of a butterfly’s wings. “You are my one true love. There can be no other.”

“As are you. My one true love, Lucie.” He kissed her, kissed her again, kissed her a third and a fourth time, kissed her like it would last a lifetime. And with a jerk, Lucie realised that it really would. Jesse was alive. Jesse was there.

He would live. Not as a vile bloodsucker, but as a prince of the Unseelie. As a prince fit to take over the kingdom from the clutches of his evil mother. He would live a full life, and he would not fade away.

With every touch, he seemed to grow stronger, healthier, fuller.

The curse was truly gone.

~~~

~~~~~

Lucie looked up from the draft on her table, and tore it to shreds. Her heart was aching with some sort of an emotion. She could not quite place a finger on which one it was.

She had been having all sorts of dreams. Wild, extravagant dreams of the queerest kind.

She looked outside her window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the ghost she’d been awaiting.

Not a sign.

She sighed and got back to the Beautiful Cordelia.

She would not allow her imagination to run deep. She would dispel all thoughts from her mind regarding his affections. And yet, her heart would not stop hammering away in her chest.

Hope was a dangerous thing to wish for.

~~~

88 notes · View notes

avalonkyuden · 3 years

Text

Beast IV and Merlin are the same? And other Beast IV Theories!

So, today I was checking twitter and saw this tweet of course it's meant to be a joke about Merlin disguised as Fou or having Fou Ears, nothing else. But I think a bit about it and noticed that "Primate Murderer" has this characteristics:

Magical beast

Nature Spirit

Evil of Man

Bloodsucker

The important one is "Evil of Man" because the Antichrist is the one that represents the evil, and you know who could be the Antichrist just because is a Cambion (Half human Half fiend).

Then you have "Bloodsucker" that it's mostly related to vampires but it can also be related to incubus/succubus since they absorb the energy of the humans.

It's important to point down that Merlin decided not to be the enemy of humanity and decided to help it in his way as a whim. Fou followed his path kinda by accident, because even if Merlin talked about humanity he did not change Fou's perspective on humans, meanwhile when Merlin free him from Avalon, the one that made Fou have a different perspective on humans was Ritsuka Fujimaru (and Mash).

So the theory for now is what if they are both the same Beast IV? Something like Beast III and it's varieties R and L, but of course with another kind of lore or idea. After all the Antichrist is not necessary only one being but could be a lot of beings that look for the humanity to take the path of 'evil' or 'self destruction'. They could be an only being called "Antichrist" separated in different beings.

There are some leaks around the internet about LB6.3, beyond this point it's just taking the speculation as real and theorizing based on that, beware:

First, in the leaks it's told that Merlin appears and helps Castoria, then he tricks her to return with Chaldea as he gives her his own Cath Palug. Meaning there are now two Cath Palugs in Chaldea? Second, Oberon is also a Cambion just like Merlin, because in some historical facts it's told the following information:

He is given some Celtic trappings, such as a magical cup (similar to the Holy Grail or the cornucopia) that is ever full for the virtuous. "The magic cup supplied their evening meal; for such was its virtue that it afforded not only wine, but more solid fare when desired", according to Thomas Bulfinch. In this story, he is said to be the child of Morgan le Fay and Julius Caesar.

So, Oberon can also be part of the Beast IV gang (?), even more if we consider those last pics about him supposedly fused with Cernunnos.

#Merlin fgo #fgo #Cath Palug #Fou #Beast IV #Oberon #Fate Grand Order #Theory #Merlin #LB6 #theories #Merlin Fate #Avalon kyuden #AvalonKyuden

46 notes · View notes

delimeful · 4 years

Text

or set your teeth against my throat (1)

warnings: vampires, blood, injury, violence, abduction, non consensual blood drinking, depressive thoughts, mild hypnosis, murder mention

Vampires, Roman was finding, seemed to have an even more shit sense of hospitality than he’d previously assumed.

Maybe it was ungenerous of him, considering this was the only coven he’d interacted with up close and personal, but he wasn’t really feeling particularly generous at the moment. When he’d been cornered, isolated from the rest of his pack, he’d expected a quick and valorous death, fighting to the last. Not… this.

Another rock made contact with the bars of his cage, the clang of stone on metal vibrating around him. His ears twitched down to flatten against his skull without his input, and he snarled low in his throat as a jeering laugh rose from the crowd.

As if it wasn’t bad enough, being taken hostage for whatever nefarious purposes they had in mind, bound and muzzled like some common animal, no, they had to parade him through the streets and batter his cage with pebbles and glass and whatever other projectiles the bloodsuckers thought fitting to torment their captive audience with.

None of it could get through the enchantment on the bars, so he wasn't struck, but it was still rough on the ears. And his feelings.

Not that they cared. That was probably the point, actually.

Gathering his resolve, he forced himself to remain still and unflinching as another shard of rock hit the cage and spun away, clenching his hands to keep them from trembling. None of this mattered. It didn’t matter what they did to him, because he would not break. He wouldn’t tell them a single thing about his pack, not one scrap of information.

He would die first, and without regrets.

As it turned out, the coven-- Kin of Æternam, they called themselves-- didn’t seem to care for information. Not a single vampire spoke to him as he was moved further and further into the town, and he couldn’t exactly initiate a conversation himself with a gag in his mouth.

Instead, he watched, and found to no surprise that he didn’t like what he saw.

He’d known many vampires were nomadic, but it was one thing to distantly know and another thing entirely to see the human town around them, half the houses smoldering and the other half looking uncomfortably ransacked. He could see the dark splatters of dried blood along walls or among the dirt, though mercifully it seemed like it had been long enough since their invasion that any remaining human bodies had been cleared away.

Roman didn’t risk interacting with humans often. He knew the tales that were spread about werewolves, and the last thing his tiny pack needed was an angry mob on their tails. Even with his reservations, though, he would never wish something like this upon them. Upon anyone.

The Æternam vamps walked among the ruins casually, as though this was everyday scenery, and Roman supposed that for them, it probably was. Simple routine; find a human settlement, feed to their unbeating hearts’ content, hold revel, and then depart again. Rinse and repeat.

It was enough to turn his stomach, and he was almost grateful when his view of the town was blocked off by their entry into the large stone fort that loomed over all else. Almost.

His opinion of the place went downhill as soon as he saw the ostentatious throne and the vampire sprawled across it, both placed on a literal gilded pedestal. Dark raven hair, corpse-like skin, and glowing red eyes painted the picture of the archetypal tyrant vamp. He found himself strangely disappointed by the lack of originality in the man’s presentation. If he was going to die to a bloodsucker, couldn’t it at least be one with a sense of style?

One of the attendant vamps pulled the door of his prison open, and Roman lunged against his restraints with all his might, snarling past the muzzle. The attendant flinched back, but the iron cuffs that bound him held firm no matter how hard he strained. The vampire on the throne laughed, the way one might at a child throwing a tantrum.

“Oh, you are a spitfire, aren’t you? All the better.”

Roman tried to convey how much this guy’s villain aesthetic sucked with his heated glare alone. He was pretty sure Virgil could have created a better evil persona than this guy in his sleep. At age twelve. While feverish. It was sad, really.

The platitudinous prick-- Roman instantly decided to alternate between very clever and very rude nicknames for the guy in his head-- beckoned, and the attendant unlocked the chain keeping him bolted to the floor of the cage. They proceeded to grab the connecting bar between the cuffs locked around his arms and maneuver him up the steps to the pedestal with probably more force than strictly necessary.

Roman had been riding in that cage for hours, and as such, had time to prepare for a lot of potential scenarios. He grew more and more tense the closer he got to the trite enthroned bastard, mentally readying himself for what was likely to be at best an assault on his person and at worst, a horrifying and gory death.

Instead, he was steered to the side of the throne, and then shoved to his knees, at which point he realized that a horrifying and gory death might not be so bad after all. Because now the attendant was locking his cuffs into a new platform, one that was designed to force him to stay hunched over and kneeling at the side of the throne. He growled, prying at the restraints, but there was little give in the cuffs. He was stuck like this, practically on display for the world to see.

“Perfect, right where a mutt like you belongs,” Vlad the Contemptible smiled sharply, as though proud of his pitiful insult.

Were all vampires this insufferably smug? Like, was it part of the package, along with the dumb looking fangs and the tacky glowing eyes? He was glad that werewolves had eyes that merely reflected light, like the respectable, well-designed creatures of nature they were.

It was possible that Roman was rambling, mentally, a little bit. He wished desperately that he could protest the indignity of it all, denounce these freaks and their humiliating tactics, but in this state, there was little he could do but glare impotently.

The bloodsucker seemed entirely too content to ignore him and his glaring hatred entirely for the next few hours, which confused Roman at first. Clearly, he was still alive for a reason, and he felt as though he’d done more than enough waiting to learn about his fate at this point. Plus, his knees hurt.

At the very least, the pain in the neck on the throne next to him seemed like the type to gloat, so why wasn’t he?

As dusk fell, Roman got his answer. More and more vamps filtered into the wide stone hall, filling the space with their corpse-cold bodies and idle chatter. Once the last bit of sun had faded over the horizon, the Toothed Tyrant slowly straightened up in his seat, drawing all the eyes in the room to him. This was what he’d been waiting for.

What was the point in gloating about your evil deeds without an audience to lavish you in praise for it?

“Kin of mine. As I’m sure many of you have noticed, we have a... guest with us this evening.”

Roman shivered as those icy, glowing gazes moved towards him, jeering or morbidly curious or hungry. He pulled at the chains once more just to have something else to focus on, the shift and clink of the metal drowned out by his rapid heartbeat in his ears. He wondered if the vamps could hear it, too.

The pitiful excuse for a villain was still talking. “... fullest potency once the full moon hits, and our hunt will decide who claims such a reward.” His half-lidded gaze slid over to Roman. “A beast like this one has engaged in plenty of hunts before, I assume? Though, probably not as prey. I’m sure it’ll get used to the sensation eventually.”

Even with the gag, Roman could snarl as fierce as any wolf, and the rumbling growl emanating from his chest made some of the closer vamps lean away.

It didn’t seem to have any effect on the worst human leech of them all. He just smiled in a satisfied sort of way before rising to his feet. “What a rebellious spirit. Perhaps you should save that for the hunt, mutt?”

Think up some new nicknames, you absolute bore, Roman thought at him, just in case those rumors about vampires reading minds were true.

The vamp walked closer, until he was at the edge of the platform and Roman had to crane his head back to see his face.

“Let’s give us both a taste of what’s to come, then.”

Without pause, there were suddenly hands on his shirt, dragging him upwards until the restraints threatened to dislocate something. One moment, he was nearly face to face with the vamp, meeting those eye-searing red pupils. In the next, his vision blurred as sharp pain shot through his neck.

The vamp had sunk its nasty fangs in on either side of his jugular, not deep enough to kill him, but enough that it would only take the slightest twitch of the head for his throat to be ripped right out. His body kept frozen even as he began to choke, his mouth tasting of iron and salt.

There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t escape, couldn’t attack, couldn’t even die until these monsters allowed it. The more he fought and resisted, the tighter their grasp on him would become, and the more he would suffer. It would be better to just give up now, save himself the trouble.

(Why am I… That’s not right--)

Roman only realized the vampire was withdrawing when those sharp teeth finally pulled away carelessly, causing a new wave of pain to roll through him. He automatically tried to reach for his throat, to stem the bleeding, but his bound hands could barely rise a few inches. He bent his head down instead, his pride stinging silently as a cacophony of mockery sounded all around him.

Once his fingers touched flesh, however, he could only feel shallow cuts rather than the gaping wounds he knew should be there. He coughed wetly, and red splattered across his hands, but he could breathe once more. However bad the bite had been, it had healed near instantly.

Of course. It was beginning to sink in that they wouldn’t let him perish that easily.

The vampire king was speaking again, eyes brighter than before, and his words blurred together and slipped away from Roman’s understanding. He could only notice the smear of deep red on the vampire’s face, and shudder where he lay as a chill set into his bones.

Time passed in a haze, marked by the constant flurry of vamp activity in the fort around him, the occasional meal to keep him alive, and his connection to the ever-waxing moon.

He felt a faint sense of concern about the way days seemed to slip away, and also about how far away and hard to grasp the concern itself felt. There was something seriously wrong when the growing light of the moon felt more like an approaching deadline than a relief.

The one other thing marking the time, he would much rather forget. Every night without fail, no matter how he fought, the same vampire would drag him up and plunge dagger-like teeth into his throat, leaving him drained and weak on the cold floor afterwards.

Roman wasn’t a fool; he knew that the bites were the reason he felt so exhausted and fuzzy. He just couldn’t do anything about it. The feeling of helplessness only grew stronger and stronger after each night, and slowly, he began to lose the will to fight the dreary feelings off.

By the time the night before the full moon hit, hope was hard to find.

He was slumped awkwardly against the ground when the door to the chamber creaked open, and the noise jolted him out of his dozing as quick as anything. His muscles went rigid and tense.

The head vamp hadn’t drank from him yet today, having left in the middle of the day with an extensive entourage for… something. It had probably been mentioned in earshot-- they weren’t very careful about what he did and did not hear-- but Roman hadn’t been paying enough attention. Maybe they were scouting out new territory?

Regardless, he had sort of been hoping it would keep the bloodsucker out of his hair for long enough that he could recover even just a bit before… before he ran out of time. So much for that.

To his surprise, there was no trace of the vamp’s normal arrogant strides. In fact, there was barely any sound at all. Roman could only tell that someone was approaching by the shifting of shadows and that dusty undead smell.

Suddenly, there was a cold palm on his arm, and he jerked up with a jagged snarl, his mind screaming at him to do anything to prevent being bitten again. The palm was yanked away instantly, and Roman could see the silhouette of the vamp before him.

It definitely wasn’t the head vamp. Smaller, and with curled hair that reflected the torchlight. He couldn’t see his expression, and his mind still screamed dangerous. His growl increased in intensity as the vamp extended a hand again, but he’d called Roman’s bluff: he had no way to defend himself in the restraints. Whatever the vamp was going to do, he couldn’t stop it.

The vamp’s other hand rose, and Roman couldn’t stop himself from flinching.

It made it all the more surprising when he heard the clank of a key in a lock. His eyes shot open, and to his disbelief, the chain connecting his cuffs to the platform went loose, no longer attached. A moment later, the vamp’s hands were on his cuffs, but rather than grab them and drag him, there was another clank.

For the first time in days, fresh air grazed his wrists. His hands were free.

A surge of adrenaline hit him, and he twisted quicker than the vamp could react, pinning him to the ground with a knee to the abdomen and a hand over his throat. It would keep the creature from getting enough air to call out an alarm. With his other hand, he immediately tore at the muzzle, his nails going claw-sharp to tear through the straps. He spat the remnants of the wretched thing out, and turned his attention to the vamp.

Cold hands curled over Roman’s own, like he wanted to pry the hand off his throat, but other than that, he wasn’t struggling against Roman’s hold. Oddly enough, his chest was rising and falling in an uncanny mimicry of panicked breathing, and even his eyes seemed oddly dark for a vamp. Roman would have thought him a human if not for the unmistakable fangs.

His grip tightened at the reminder. “You’re not getting any more blood out of me,” he growled, his voice rough and crackly. His whole body felt out of practice. If he stood up and bolted, he risked falling flat on his own face, and if he turned and the vamp lunged…

No. Easier to just… just vanquish the vamp so he couldn’t do anything. One less thing to worry about during his escape.

He lifted his other hand, claws pinched together as a makeshift stake. The vampire twitched once, his mouth opening briefly as though to speak, and then seemed to slump. His hands stopped tugging at Roman’s fingers around his neck, and he pinched his eyes closed, bracing for the blow.

Roman frowned. Was this a ploy for sympathy?

He could feel the way the vamp trembled under him, unnaturally lifelike.

… It was an effective one. Shit.

He lowered his hand slowly, loosened his grip, waiting for the moment the stranger dropped the ruse and lunged. It didn’t come. He just kept waiting for Roman to hurt him.

He abruptly felt a little sick to his stomach. He let go of the vamp’s throat. The guy opened one eye slowly, like he thought it was a trick.

“If you get up from this spot, if you even twitch before I’m out of this building, I’ll make sure you regret it,” Roman threatened, a growl under the words and his lip curling up slightly to bare his teeth. “You won’t get mercy twice.”

The vamp’s expression did something complicated (Confusion? Relief? Disappointment?) but when Roman scuttled back, he stayed laid out on the floor, not moving a muscle. Roman let a breath out slowly, some of the tension fading from him. “Well… good. Keep doing that.”

He could practically hear Virgil sighing as his awkwardness overwhelmed any menace his threat might have instilled. It wasn’t his fault he was off-script, okay? This vampire was… weird.

Roman shuffled back a few more steps on weak legs, and then, once he was sure he was far enough away, he let the shift wash over him like a warm breeze. Four unsteady legs were better than two, and if he leaned a little on his instincts, his inner wolf would make his gait mostly smooth. It was a small but invaluable aid as as he sprinted down long, musty halls until he was finally, finally out of that cursed fortress.

Roman was so relieved he could have cried. He was still weak, and his head was still foggy, but he didn't stop until there was finally trees around him and dirt under his feet. As he collapsed, the night air still tasted like victory.

#sanders sides #vampire au #fantasy au #ts roman #ts patton #blood tw #violence tw #hurt/comfort #more comfort next chapter lol #writing #my writing #bthb #or set your teeth against my throat #osytamt #werewolf au #this ones a little dark and sad at first but this is only the first chapter!#murder mention #ok i think thats everything #im tired im taking a break for the rest of the day

270 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

Midnight Mass: It’s Time to Talk About That Monstrous Twist

https://ift.tt/39I2zkp

This article contains huge spoilers for Midnight Mass. So help me God if you read this without watching the series first…

The version of Midnight Mass that Netflix advertised still would have made for a compelling horror series.

An isolated, insular island community? Great. A young, charismatic preacher suddenly coming to town to shake things up? Perfect. That preacher proving capable of performing minor miracles? Love it, no notes!

Of course, as viewers who have watched at least four episodes of the seven-episode series now know, Midnight Mass has one extra supernatural twist in mind that elevates an already interesting story to true mind-blowing status. Critics were understandably asked to keep this aspect of the show a secret before it premiered. So please indulge me as I finally slay these embargo demons and get it off my chest.

Vampires. Vampires! V-A-M-P-I-R-E-S. VAMPIRES! VAMPIRES VAMPIRES VAMPIRES! Literally like Dracula. And Nosferatu. Anne Rice’s Lestat. Stephen King’s ‘Salem’s Lot. Vampires. VAMPIRES, BRO, VAMPIRES.

For creator Mike Flanagan, a filmmaker influenced by all manner of classic horror, bringing the fanged bloodsuckers to life was a long time coming.

“My favorite vampire movie is (Werner) Herzog’s Nosferatu,” Flanagan told Den of Geek and other outlets prior to the premiere of Midnight Mass. “That film is the vampire story as high art. I also adore From Dusk Till Dawn. I read Dracula young enough for it to really burrow in for me. And I read ‘Salem’s Lot early enough to color an enormous amount of work that I’ll do for the rest of my life.”

Midnight Mass’s depiction of the mythological undead beast and how it can neatly fit into Christian dogma is one of the most satisfying horror twists in years. Now that the truth is out, let’s discuss Midnight Mass and how it conflates vampires and biblical angels.

Mistaking a Vampire for an Angel

The interesting thing about Midnight Mass is that it clearly takes place in a universe where the average person has no knowledge of what a vampire is. Even Sarah Gunning (Annabeth Gish), arguably the most well-read person on Crockett Island, has to do some research into “porphyria cutanea tarda” (a.k.a. the real life “vampire disease”). This is similar to The Walking Dead’s approach to zombies, in which the “z” word and George A. Romero’s name are never spoken. This strategy in Midnight Mass allows for a truly fascinating case of mistaken identity.

While viewers immediately know that the creature Monsignor John Pruitt (Hamish Linklater) encounters is a vampire, he believes it to be an angel. Given how studied Pruitt is in the Bible and Cathloic theology, it’s entirely understandable why he would think a tall, muscular, bald-headed beast with fangs and leathery wings is an angel. As it turns out, the angels of the Old Testament can be truly terrifying.

Not all angels are soft-featured human-like creatures with fluffy white bird wings. Some, like Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones are designed to intimidate God’s enemies. In the New Testament’s Book of Luke, an angel visits Zechariah and immediately asks him to “be not afraid” because the angel can see the poor guy absolutely shaking in his boots upon his arrival. Angels being terrifying is even something of an Internet meme, with users contrasting the phrase “be not afraid” with images of truly monstrous beasts.

Not only does Pruitt’s vampire have the vague appearance of an angel, it also apparently holds the secrets to eternal life as promised in the Bible. By merely drinking some of the “angel’s” blood, a good Christian can live forever just like God says. Does that blood-drinking sacrament sound familiar? It did to Mike Flanagan.

“In Bible school I used to say ‘if the wine turns into Jesus’s blood literally and we’re drinking it so that we can live forever … that seems like a short leap to vampiric myth.’”

Of course, drinking the angel’s fluids in the case of Midnight Mass also leads to some unwanted side effects like a thirst for blood and extreme sensitivity to sunlight. Thankfully, good ol’ Bev Keane always has a Bible quote ready to go for that. When read through the proper perspective, the Holy Bible may as well be the original vampire story.

The Rules of Vampirism

“The thing that I love about the vampire as a cinematic tool is how malleable it is,” Flanagan says. “We all agree that there is no canon. There are no rules. In fact, part of the joy is seeing what rules people cherry pick as they approach a vampire story.”

All depictions of vampires are indeed quite different. Vampires can range from the classic Stoker-ian monster to Twilight’s nigh-invulnerable sparkle bois. Midnight Mass’s version of the vampire leans towards the classic, albeit with some tweaks. In terms of appearance, The Angel (as we will be calling Midnight Mass’s O.G. vampire for simplicity’s sake) has a more bestial look like Nosferatu rather than an aristocratic one like Count Dracula or Anne Rice’s creations.

“We winked at (Nosferatu the Vampyr actor) Klaus Kinski a few times when we designed our guy,” Flanagan says.

Though the Angel resembles Nosferatu in appearance, its vulnerabilities owe more to Rice’s The Vampire Chronicles. Religious iconography does not appear to hurt the Angel nor its thralls. Traditional human weapons like bullets or blades also do no harm (at least not mortally). These vampires are, however, tremendously susceptible to both fire and sunlight. Exposure to the latter for even a few seconds is enough to kill the Angel and his many acolytes.

Why Midnight Mass is Mike Flanagan’s Most Personal Work

By Alec Bojalad

Midnight Mass Cast: Previous Credits From Hill House to Bly Manor, Legion & Sherlock

By Louisa Mellor

Like in Rice’s works as well, the path to creating a new vampire is quite simple. Step 1: Drink its blood. Step 2: Die. In Dracula and ‘Salem’s Lot, the method of vampire creation is merely being bit by one, zombie-style. Rice and Flanagan’s approach is quite a bit more intentional and interesting. It also opens the door for perhaps Midnight Mass’s most ingenious storytelling quirk: communion. John Pruitt is able to get nearly the entirety of Crockett Island to become a vampire by spiking the communion wine with his buddy’s blood. Then, all that remains is for them to poison themselves to death, Jonestown-style.

The mass “resurrection” scene in which the congregation awakes as their new vampire selves also provides some insight to just how hard it is to contain the vampire’s overwhelming hunger. Riley Flynn was able to resist it when he turned because John Pruitt babysat him like a psychedelic mushroom guide. The plan for the rest of the congregation was to have their babysitters as well but that didn’t quite work out. Still, Riley’s dad Ed makes it clear to his wife Annie, that even if it’s hard to resist the call for blood, it’s not impossible.

“When I saw them at the church, I thought it was something they really couldn’t help. Like something impossible not to do. But it isn’t, Annie,” he says.

Maybe if more vampires were like Ed Flynn, a whole island full of vampires wouldn’t be too bad of a thing in the first place.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

How to Defeat a Vampire

While every vampire story presents its own unique take on the creature, the answer on how to defeat a vampire is usually the same: by doing it together.

“We poor humans only have so much that we can give,” Flanagan says. “We’re ill-equipped as individuals to make any kind of meaningful stand. The only way evil in the world can be brought down is through collective effort. That’s something Stoker understands inherently. It’s clearly something King understands.”

Alongside the aforementioned Bram Stoker and Stephen King, Flanagan presents a small team of humans at story’s end who will do what it takes to defeat evil, even if it means dying in the process. Erin Greene (Kate Siegel), Dr. Sarah Gunning, Sheriff Hassan (Rahul Kohli), Annie Flynn (Kristin Lehman), Warren Flynn (Igby Rigney), and Leeza Scarborough (Annarah Cymone) are the six residents of Crockett Island brave enough to try to take down the Angel. All but two (Warren and Leeza) die. They do succeed in eliminating the immediate threat on Crockett Island but it’s possible the Angel made it away to suck blood another day, damaged wings and all.

What’s interesting about Midnight Mass’s “final crew” is that six appears to be the magic number when it comes to taking down a vampire. Stoker’s Dracula has six heroes: Jonathan Harker, Mina Harker nèe Murray, Arthur Holmwood (Lord Godalming), John Seward, Quincey Morris, and Abraham Van Helsing (of which, only poor American cowboy Quincey Morris dies). King’s ‘Salem’s Lot also has six: Ben Mears, Matt Burke, Susan Norton, Mark Petrie, Jimmy Cody, and Father Callahan (of which, decidedly more than one of them die). This strange bit of arithmancy is something we asked Flanagan about.

“The number was certainly not intentional,” he says. “Once it was clear that Riley was not going to be carrying the torch to the end it really was about asking ‘who are the characters who seem in the very beginning to be at a disadvantage and how do we empower them in the end?’ This was gonna be played out by Sarah Gunning, Sheriff Hassan, and everyone else who would get to just give a little piece.”

Considering that Erin and company were outnumbered about 117 to six, it was a pretty good showing for Crockett Island’s last humans standing.

All seven episodes of Midnight Mass are available to stream on Netflix now.

The post Midnight Mass: It’s Time to Talk About That Monstrous Twist appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3CPaitL

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

7 notes · View notes

lokislytherin · 4 years

Text

euphoria // vampire!jungkook

pairing: vampire!jeon jeongguk x human!reader summary: you’re scared of vampires - until one saves your life one night. word count: 1988 + a/n: here’s to @jungkooksbish ! happy birthday ily 💜💜💜

chapters: prologue / chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / epilogue

It’s a dark and gloomy night, but you walk alone down the silent streets.

There’s not a soul in sight, save the crescent moon hanging in the sky, your only companion. Night has fallen and it’s getting late, and your friends are all gone, having just realized you’ve all lost track of time. In your haste to return to the little apartment you call home, you’ve (quite unwisely, now that you think of it) decided to take a shortcut down one the spookier alleys. You know for certain it’ll take you home – you’ve walked it countless times during the day. But this time is different, and as you walk along, you’re starting to seriously regret your decision. You never know about the creatures that thrive in the dark, after all.

You’ve been warned about them before, by the lucky few who have survived their encounters to tell the tale. Everybody knows to be wary of the supernatural nightlife, knows to lower their voices when they speak around the metaphorical campfire. You know about most of them: the witches, who escaped a fiery death at the stake long ago and now live among mankind, running amok with their magic; the werewolves, who live at the mercy of the wax and wane of the moon, at best a little worse than a man and at worst a little better than a beast; the shifters, who are experts at hiding in society, the apparent lesser of the evils.

Of course, you can’t forget about the most dangerous ones of them all: the vampires, soulless undead who lured their victims to their doom with their unnatural beauty, who fed not on ordinary food and water, but preyed on other creatures, preferring to drink the blood of humans who live and breathe as you do. You don’t think you’ve ever encountered any of them before, and you hope that you’re lucky enough never to.

But of course, as fate will have it, luck is not your friend. stomp. Your eyes widen, and you can’t help but suck in a breath. Peeking over your shoulder, you see nothing but the shadows beside you. It’s deathly silent out there. Calm down, Y/N, you tell yourself firmly, it was probably just a monster rat. If it attacks you, just whack it with all you’ve got. You’re still spooked, and you walk a little faster, hold your phone a little tighter. The battery is low, but you know that 1% you’ve got will last you long enough to get to safety. Having a mere semblance of comfort is better than nothing at all. STOMP. You whip around, suspicious. You’re certain you just heard footsteps. But once again, there’s nothing to be seen but the lonely lunar light. The peacefulness of the night should put you at ease, but today it just seems eerie. You rub your eyes with a scowl, careful not to move your contacts. You’re probably just hallucinating due to sleep deprivation.

It’s too quiet – A sweaty hand grips onto your bare arm, and you yell at the top of your arms. You know you’re loud enough to be heard by any source of help – the singer’s lungs you’ve trained so hard to achieve aren’t for nothing. You try to shake off the disgusting hand, but your efforts prove fruitless: attached to the hand is a leering middle-aged man, whose breath reeks of alcohol and cigarette smoke. "Hey, pretty girl," he sneers as he paws drunkenly at your body. "I'll show you a good time." Disgusting.

He’s not one of them, as you’d originally feared, but he’s dangerous all the same, especially when he’s drunk (but sober enough to be a pervert) and you have your, uh, assets. In the daylight, men would only dare catcall, whistling (c)rudely at your body. You crack your knuckles. Ideally, you’d avoid a fight, or any kind of violence, but at times like this you don’t really have much of a choice, do you? It’s probably time you practice your kickboxing skills anyway. Your kicking might be rusty, but you can still throw a mean right hook.

Deciding to take a page out of your trigger-happy friend’s book, you twist and punch the sleazebag in the face. He shrieks as your fist smacks squarely into his nose, which makes a sickening crack. He stumbles back, clutching his face, looking almost insulted at how you even dare to punch him. Blood drips from between his fingers. He deserves a good punch, the misogynistic jerk. You walk off: he’s not worth any more of your time. "Hey! Come back here!" He howls as he gives chase, enraged. His boots clomp heavily behind you, a dead giveaway. He’s not sober in the least, and you can hear him grunt as he stumbles and falls. His drunkenness should slow him down enough for you to make a quick getaway, but you’re wearing your favorite pumps, and cute as they are, they won’t let you run as fast as you’d like either. "You sick little bi-"

His shouts are cut off abruptly. Did somebody happen to hear your cry for help and decide to lend a hand? Did the old pervert finally collapse in a drunken stupor? You’re not sure if you want to know what happened to the crazy stalker, but terrified curiosity gets the better of you. Turning around, you regret yelling that Libras die first every time you watch a horror film with your friends – if this was a scene from a horror movie, you’d die first, and you’re Gemini. Good going, Y/N. You’re going to die.

The sight that greets you makes you stumble and gag. The man’s eyes are wide with terror, mouth open in a soundless scream. Even worse, blood oozes out from two clean puncture wounds on his neck. Behind him is a young man, looking not much older than you are. He winks at you flirtatiously, grinning and flashing pearly white fangs that look far too real to be a product of your imagination.

Vampire. "Help me!" The old pervert wheezes. You stumble back, bile rising in your throat. Your heartbeat accelerates, and your frantic attempts to slow it down only makes your heart beat faster. The vampire can probably hear your heartbeat, smell your fear. You can almost taste the metallic tang of blood on your tongue, a trail of dark red illuminated by the flickering streetlights. You smell it before it happens – the rancid odor of death wafts in the air, and the vampire cheerfully snaps the old man’s neck.

His head lolls backwards. The young man grins at you, eyeing you in a way that looks less hungry and more curious. He may be a vampire and a killer, but at least he’s not a pervert and a creep like that other guy, the more optimistic side of your mind suggests. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, licking his lips clean of blood. His fangs gleam in the dark. One of them is a little chipped. "You’re welcome, by the way." Not gonna lie, that was kind of hot, says the voice in your head.

"Thanks." You slowly back away, sounding calmer than you really are. You don’t let your gaze off him even for a second, but avoid making direct eye contact. You never know – the second you look away from him, he might decide to have you as a midnight snack… His blue eyes glimmer red, and a small voice in your head reminds you helpfully that red eyes in vampires means ‘hunger’. Uh oh, says the voice in your head.

Uh oh indeed. The vampire opens his mouth. "Run."

You do just that, tearing out of that place like your life depends on it because it quite literally does.Thankfully, fate finally decides to be kind to you, as your beloved shoes don’t fall off and leave you with a twisted ankle, and the vampire boy doesn’t hunt you down just for kicks and giggles either. You unlock the door of your apartment, ready to flop onto your bed and fall into a long-awaited slumber, hoping that you’d wake up the next morning and realize that everything that had happened was just a dream, you didn’t really encounter a vampire. Unfortunately for you, it’s all real, and painfully so.

Life decides to give you a slap in the face in the name of your roommate and good friend Kim Seokjin, who is still awake and waiting for you on the couch with a cup of tea in one hand and a scowl on his handsome face. He looks annoyed, but you know there’s a softie hiding under that cold, tough exterior he likes to put on. "So, Y/N," he drawls with a sip of his tea and a raise of an eyebrow, "where have you been?" He places his tea down on the saucer on his lap, not breaking eye contact. He’s suspicious, but a suspicious Seokjin is still better than an angry one. You shrug with a loud sigh. "Places." He cocks his head, not sure whether you’re lying or not. "It’s been a long day." You’re not wrong. You flop onto the couch next to him, careful not to make him spill his tea. "Almost got jumped by a creepy old perv," you mutter, leaving out the part where said ‘creepy old pervert’ got killed and drained by a bloodsucker. Your lateness has caused Seokjin enough worry as it is, you don’t need to give him another reason to have a heart attack over you.

Seokjin shakes his head sympathetically. "Poor you." Both of you lapse into silence as Seokjin continues to sip his tea. You know he’s still suspicious. "It’s gonna be Saturday tomorrow, but it's still almost one in the morning. Tae’s coming over tomorrow, and you know how energetic he gets."

You laugh. Seokjin’s younger brother is one of the most eccentric people you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, with a peculiar fashion sense and even stranger conversation topics. You think he may have even howled at the moon, once, but you can’t be too sure. It’s all good in the long run – once you get to know him, Taehyung is a genuinely awesome guy. He rises, padding over to the kitchen to wash his teacup. He’s a bit of a hypocrite – you’re an insomniac, and you've never seen Seokjin sleep. The older man stretches, spine cracking obscenely as he makes his way to his room. "Get some sleep, Y/N. I don’t want to see you out here until morning." You fake a yawn to satisfy him, your mind still buzzing with activity after an encounter with an enigmatic bloodsucker who’d saved your life without asking for anything in return. "Night, Jin." That night, you take extra precautions in making sure that the door to your apartment is locked, and that all your windows are closed for certain. You proceed to crawl into your bed and hide under the safety of your covers, squeezing your eyes shut only to see a pair of mesmerizing blue eyes floating at the forefront of your mind, flickering red.

Your eyes fly open.

“So much for sleeping,” you mutter to yourself. Damn bloodsucker. You muffle a scream with your pillow as the vampire in your mind's eye shoots you a charming wink. “Y/N, go to sleep!” Seokjin yells from his room next door.

98 notes · View notes

maswartz · 3 years

Text

Power Rider Vamp

(Logo by Markolios and @riceyhot)

Years ago on a distant world called Unverzal there were four races who lived in peace. In the urban cities lived the Vamps, who unlike the bloodsuckers of Earthen myth drain the darkness of their foes instead. In the forest villages lived the proud hunters the Lycans. In the seas the scholarly Merms lived. And in the desert the metallic Golems found peace. However an evil known as the Fearatu rose up and spread havoc. A representative from each race was selected to become a Power Rider and fight this threat, however all but one fell in battle. The Fearatu withdrew for the time being and peace returned. However the Fearatu have returned and it is time for a new Rider to fight back.

A young man named Watai has been chosen by the House of the Fallen to become Power Rider Vamp and fight against the Fearatu. He can drain the darkness from them to gain power. Face Claim: Mena Massoud Transformation Device: Dusk Belt Transformation Call: Let’s Ride Transformation: Darkness covers his body forming the armor Finishing Move: Vamp Rider Kick (a rider kick charged with darkness) Vehicle: Darkness Cycle: High speed cycle

Soon Watai finds that he can harness the spirits of the fallen three riders to utilize their weapons in battle

When harnessing the Spirit of the Lycan his armor turns blue and gains a fur like texture. Watai gains the Howling Saber in this form. Finishing Move: Lycan Slash

While harnessing the Spirit of the Merm his armor turns green and gains a scaly texture. Watai gains the Hydro Pistol in this form Finishing Move: Merm Blast

When harnessing the Spirit of the Golem his armor turns purple and gains a metallic texture. Watai gains the Thunder Hammer in this form Finishing Move: Golem Smash

After consuming enough darkness Watai gains the Midnight Spirit form. This form increases his power greatly, even allowing for flight. Finishing Moves: Midnight Kick, Midnight Slash

A young man named Keigo is a member of an order called the Protectors of the Light that believes that all darkness must be destroyed, including the peaceful members of the four races. To further this goal he becomes Power Rider Lux. This puts him at odds with Watai at first however he soon realizes that the four races are not the enemy and vows to protect all the innocent from the Fearatu. Face Claim: Jason Momoa Transformation Device: Dawn Belt Transformation Call: Let’s Ride Transformation: Light covers his body forming the armor Finishing Move: Shining blast

In time the head of the order gives Keigo the ability to access the Lux Sol form granting increased power and defense.

A young woman named Natari joins the two Riders representing an ancient order simply called The Balance that practices a balance between light and darkness. As Power Rider Twilight she uses both to fight against the Fearatu. Face Claim: Eden Sher Transformation Device: Twilight Belt Transformation Call: Let’s Ride Transformation: Light and darkness cover her body forming the armor Finishing move: Twilight slash

Back during the first battle with the Fearatu, the chosen hero for the Vamp, a man known only as Ire, grew hungry for power and betrayed the other heroes. For his crime he was imprisoned with the Fearatu. As a result he is unable to return to his natural form and gains the power of true darkness. When his forces free him he attacks the current Riders seeking revenge. When he is finally able to revert to his natural form he finds that he has been changed by his punishment, his body twisted into a Fearatu himself! Power Rider Djand/Vamp: The sand from a Jind was used to make a Fearatu and the resulting beast went on a path of destruction until both groups took it down. (Faces by @rosegrl18) Previous Powerverse Next

#kamen rider #power rider #kamen rider kiva #power rider vamp

2 notes · View notes

littlemessyjessi · 4 years

Text

“Blood of My Enemies”: BBC/Netflix Dracula Imagine

BBC/ Netflix Dracula Imagine BBC/ Netflix Dracula x Reader, PS Reader, Plus Size Reader

At four a.m. I had just left after working a sixteen hour shift at the hospital.

My patience was beyond thin as I stood in line at the twenty four hour mini mart.

All I wanted was my bottle of wine, a shower and my blissfull, blessed bed.

After wearing my scrubs for that long I felt disgusting.

I was an unholy amount of bitchiness standing there and when I heard a distinctly male voice behind me....I nearly snapped.

"Excuse, madam."

The accent was nice but I had no patience.

I turned on my heel and looked at him.

"Yes?" I asked offering nothing but vacancy across my features.

"Come now, darling." he said. "No smile?"

My eyes narrowed at him for a moment before I bit the inside of my cheek in anger and sat my wine down on the shelf nearest to me.

"Listen." I said tucking my hands into place on my full hips. "I have just spent the last sixteen hours on my feet at the hospital covered in other peoples piss, shit, vomit and blood. I have been yelled at, slapped, had a gun pulled on me and had to hold someone while they died. And that's just tonight. I am in no mood for some random guy trying to flirt with late night scragglers."

"Listen, darling. I just-"

"No you listen!" I snapped. "I just want to go home, drink my wine and hibernate for the next four days and if I could jump start that process by being left the fuck alone that would be great!"

Was I an unholy bitch?

Was it uncalled for?

Probably but in that moment I couldn't have cared less.

"You have my most sincere apologies, madam." he said. "Allow me."

He reached for my wine and I promptly smacked his hand.

"I don't need you to buy anything for me. I just made it glaringly obvious that I worked very hard for my money. I'm good." I snapped.

"Yes, you have made it obvious. Please, if you'll allow me to purchase it... as an apology. I assure you I am a gentleman and I wouldn't want to leave you with the impression that I was anything less than such." he said.

With an underlying attitude of hostility, I let him purchase the wine and he gave the bag to me.

"Again, I'm terribly sorry for any trouble I've caused you." he said, his dark eyes twinkling in a way that I wasn't totally sure if I liked or not.

He was quite handsome.

In a sort, old school classic type of way.

It wasn't something you saw a lot of anymore but it was nice.

"Thank you." I said. "And sorry for biting your head off. I'm a bit testy after working overtime for the fourth night in a row."

"That's understandable." he said with a slight smirk. "Besides, I've always been fond of women who have a bite to them."

His corny remark got the best of me and I couldn't help but smile a little in spite of myself.

"I figured your smile would be lovely." he said. "I see I wasn't wrong."

My glower was a little less intense as I looked over at him.

"Well, thank you again." I said. "But if you'll excuse me I need to go home, get piss drunk and attempt hibernation."

He chuckled a bit and opened the door for me and fell into step with me as I headed down the street.

"Would you like an escort home?" he asked and offered his arm.

"Look." I said turning to him. "While I appreciate this whole dapper gentleman routine, I don't know you, man. I'm certainly not leading you back to my home. Try not to take it personally but I'm not that stupid."

He sighed again with a small shake of his head, "Seems I've overstepped again. I just wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet. As you said, you are tired and in need of sleep. It would be selfish of me to keep the beauty from her sleep."

"Hey, if you're awake at this hour you'll probably see me again. I usually work night shift. I'm just covering someone else's shifts this week because her kid's sick. There's only a handful of places open around here at four in the morning. And trust me, I'm definitely always popping in here on my break for coffee. Otherwise know as the blood that runs through my veins." I said.

He said, "I look forward to that."

"See you later, Mysterious Stranger." I said and turned to leave.

"See you later, Fiesty Nurse." he said.

"Oh, I'm not a nurse." I laughd. "I'm a much bigger nightmare."

"A doctor?" He laughed.

"No." I said turning and walking backwards for a moment. "A CNA. Twice the bullshit for half the pay. Evil incarnate is probably a better name for me."

"Evil incarnate is it!" he called after me.

"Night!" I said. "See ya in four days!"

And I did.

Every night that I worked, I bumped into the mysterious stranger who I soon came to know as Dracula, later shorted to Drac.

Eventually those chance meetings became planned meetups.

He'd be waiting on me with coffee and something to eat- always having claimed to have already eaten or drinking some type of thick liquid from a travel mug.

I wasn't surprised.

He looked like a fit guy and it wouldn't have shocked me in the least for him to be drinking some type of beet juice cleanse.

As was so popular these days.

Fuck it- I just wanted my nachos, man.

Tonight was no different as I approached.

"Hey, Drac." I said as I walked up to him - supremely happy to be rid of my workplace for the night.

"Hello, darling." he said handing over the coffee and whatever he decided to give me to eat.

"You know, you don't have to buy this for me every night." I reminded him. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I appreciate it but-"

"Yes, yes, Miss Independent. I get it. However, I like knowing I can buy you a coffee and a meal occassionally." he said taking a sip from his drink.

I eyed it for a moment and sipped my coffee but apparently he could see the wheels turning.

"What are you thinking?" he asked with a slight smirk.

"I think many things." I answered elusively. "I'm a CNA. I'm still cussing the patient who gave me the bird and his wife who accused me of checking him out. I mean, I was but checking out someone's abs out of lust and out of a need to cleanse a fucking bullet wound are two different things."

"Don't beat around the bush." he teased.

"I gotta ask." I said before taking a hulking bite of the sandwhich. "What is that red sludge you're always drinking?"

"The blood of my enemies." he quipped with a smirk and I rolled my eyes.

"You should market that." I said and nudged him with my elbow. "No really? Is it some kind of beet juice monstrosity? Because how dare you, sir? How dare you?"

He chuckled for a moment , "Just a source of nourishment. Everyone has their diet thing these days don't they?"

I shrugged, "Yeah, I guess. My diet thing is that I am deeply offended by brussel sprouts. I hate them so much I would even go so far as to have a doctor LIE and give me a statement to say I was allergic."

"What is your reaction to them?" he played along.

"Extreme bitchiness." I said.

"Oh, so we've got a list of other things that you're allergic to as well." he teased and I promptly socked him in his rather solid arm making him laugh.

"Jerk." I giggled.

"What if it was blood?" he asked.

"Huh?" I asked, draining the last drop of my coffee.

"My drink." he clarified. "What if it was the 'blood of my enemies', so to speak? What would you do?"

"Look, man." I sighed. "I had a woman come into the emergency room the other night drinking a tea she made from her own hair. She carried it in a flask on her hip. I've seen it all. "

He chuckled, "I suppose you have."

"You ok?" I asked noticing his change in demeanor. "Something wrong?"

He gave me a smile but I knew it to be fake.

"Nothing, love." he said settling a hand on my knee.

I looked at it for a moment before I took it in my own.

I could feel him looking at me but I was determined to just look up at the moon instead.

"Drac, you could be flesh eating demon and while it might be a bit shocking- honestly, I've seen worse." I said. "I've had little girls brought in the emergency room by their supposed father's. They've had broken arms and bruises and I've wanted nothing more than to take them away from those heartless bastards who I knew were doing unspeakable things to them. But I couldn't. But I didn't have prove. Sometimes you just know but you can't do anything about it. That's my cross to bare. Hell, if I had a bloodsucking beast at my disposal I could sick her on every evil person I know."

"Her?" he chuckled. "It's a woman?"

"Well, we are the root of all evil aren't we?" I smirked finally meeting his gaze.

His other hand came up to rest on mine and he sighed and stared at our intwined digits.

"Let's say I knew such a creature." he said. "And this creature was infatuated with you. More than infatuated. Positively spellbound. And this creature did have to do horrible things to survive but he also cared for you so deeply and would never harm you. Even knowing what kind of terrible creation he was....would you have him?"

"Are you the creature in this scenario?" I asked and he finally met my gaze.

A deep sigh left them.

"At times, I both love and loathe how clever you are." he said. "But yes."

"Then yeah, sure." I said simply.

His full brows furrowed as he looked at me, "Yeah? Sure? That's it."

"Listen, man." I said. "If you want me as a snack, I'd already be dead. Plus you buy me food and coffee every night. That's trustworthy material right there."

"Food and drink earns your trust now?" he chuckled.

"You're not listening." I said. "I work in the medical field. Coffee is my blood and I am always hungry."

"I adore you." he said with a lightness in his dark eyes. "You're impossible but I adore you."

"I tolerate you." I teased him.

He took my teasing in good nature and placed an arm around me, "Just so we are clear on the matter, I have contemplated you as a snack on many occasions. Just not in the way you might think."

"Oh, I'm not a snack, honey." I sassed him. "I'm a full course meal."

"I shall await the day when I can taste it." he said teasingly.

"You filthy whore!" I laughed and smacked his chest.

And that was how I ended up in relationshp with five hundred year old vampire of all things.

What was most surprising is that he turned out the best relationship I'd ever had.

---------------------

Hello, darlings! I hope you enjoyed this Drac fic! I just love that handsome devil! Thank you for the requests and feel free to send in more Drac requests! Love, Kenny

@frankie2902

@pleasantdreamqueen @becrazy–beyou –beyou

@becrazy-beweird

@littledeadrottinghood @blackirisposts

@therealmrshale @woodworthti666

@jimmys-afterlife-love-deactivat @thegreatirene@fanfictionandjunk

@angelus320

@alanlizzingtonshore@buriednurbckyrd@disneymarina@@tubbypeachwriting

@sullybot @georgiagrl1990 @whenallsaidanddone

@mischiefnevermanaged94 @inumorph

@congurl

@centerhabit

@bubblymusiclover13

@meetcally

@qtmeryr

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@tnupsweetpie

@alisoncdariel

@hannahloveslife

@wormyboi

@blackirisposts

@maggyme13

@amethyst09

@lostdarksoul6

@fanfics1717

@coffeebooksandfandom

@gruffle1

@neeadinghugs

@marvelismylifffe

@mrscasnovak

@thickemadame

Love, Kenny

#bbc dracula #dracula #dracula x reader #dracula imagine #netflix dracula #dracula x ps reader #dracula x plus size reader #ps reader #plus size reader

173 notes · View notes

the-bard-writes · 3 years

Text

The Young Owl, Episode 2, Part 3/12

The village seemed normal enough as the pair approached it. There were no plague posts or warning signs, and people milled about the village center tending to their business. The most abnormal thing was the presence of a plague doctor and a ranger in the villagers’ midst, and the glances the villagers gave the pair made that much clear.

“They don’t seem fond of you,” Sparrow remarked.

“At least they’re not spitting at me,” Owl shrugged. “Quiet disdain is better than vocal disgust.”

“You Sodalists really have a rotten lot, don’t you?” Sparrow laughed awkwardly.

“Ranger!” A villager greeted. “What brings our local Lodger to town?”

“Escorting a traveler in need, Nyle,” Sparrow explained, gesturing to Owl.

“A plague-bird here?” Nyle rose a bushy eyebrow. He was an older man with a large gut, and smoked a pipe. “Was it that church-man what sent you?”

“I know of no church-man, sir,” Owl said politely, remembering the rider’s request. “I am simply passing through. Unless there is need of my services, of course…”

“Well, not for me to say,” Nyle shrugged. “There’s that girl what fell under some fainting spell the other day, Feli. But her folks have got her under their roof and behind a closed door and all. Doubt they’d care to pay for a bird.”

“Speaking of pay,” Sparrow said, stretching her arms, “think you could whip up something with meat in it for us, Nyle-sum?”

“Aye, I’ve got some fresh beef stock I can toss some chunks of this-and-that into,” Nyle nodded, putting out his pipe. “Can’t promise much actual meat, though. Nearly out of beef, and I’m not getting more chicken until Farmer Yak comes to town next.”

“Fine, stiff your Lodger,” Sparrow shrugged comically. “Next time some foul beast comes sniffing at your inn I’ll just remember you’re short on any meat for it to poach.”

“Oh, fine,” Nyle huffed as he made his way into his inn. “I can give a bit of cheek and tongue.”

“Into the soup, I hope,” Owl joked quietly. Sparrow guffawed at the quiet vulgarity from the Sodalist.

“Didn’t think you birds could crack like that!” Sparrow laughed.

“We’re people too,” Owl said simply. “I’m curious about this girl, Feli.”

“What about her?” Sparrow asked, leaning against a post holding up the inn’s awning.

“Fainting spells are a rare symptom,” Owl said. “Usually psychosomatically induced, but if they’re physiomatic in nature…”

“You’re losing me, birdie,” Sparrow smiled sadly.

“Faints usually come because of stress or strong emotion,” Owl simplified. “But if they’re caused by bodily functions… they’re usually quite serious.”

“Well,” Sparrow said, “do you see any plague floating about?”

Owl looked around. Her vision showed the usual faint iridescence and swirls of non-colors floating around that indicated normal amounts of miasma. Common colds, simple coughs, bouts of fatigue; most miasma was relatively harmless. As her mutant eyes glanced about, she could see no indication of more dangerous or exotic miasmas.

“Nothing special, no,” the Owl said. “But that only means there’s no impending epidemic.”

“That rider mentioned folks being worried about an outbreak,” Sparrow said.

“Everybody worries about an outbreak,” Owl pointed out. “My mentor has told me numerous stories about hysteria regarding miasma leading to more serious psychosomatic symptoms than any actual physical infection in the area.”

“Meaning…?”

“Fear of plague can create more problems than plague itself,” Owl clarified.

At that moment, Nyle returned from the inn, with two bowls in hand. He gave one to Sparrow, before looking at the Owl.

“None for me, thank you sir,” Owl nodded.

“Say,” Nyle said, scratching his chin, “How do you plaguelings eat your portions?”

“They don’t,” a stranger commented. “They’ve got leeches in their tums that feed them, like the mutants they are.”

The Owl sighed. “Eat your stew,” she whispered to Sparrow. “It would be best for us to keep going.”

“Now,” Nyle said to the stranger, “there’s no need for rudeness—this bird’s vouched by our Lodger, and she’s behaving herself just fine. You leave her be, now.”

“I’ve heard that they’re all just leech under those masks,” another passerby commented, a young man. “Take the mask off and it’s all just writhing bloodsuckers that learned to talk and walk like a person.”

“That’s something, coming from a horse’s ass that learned to do the same like you,” Sparrow mocked. Owl cringed under her mask.

“What did you say to me, wench?” The young man seethed.

“She’s a Lodger, man,” the first stranger said. “No manners.”

“Now see here, boys,” Nyle interrupted. “The ranger here is good stock.”

But I’m not, Owl thought to herself.

“I bet she’s fucking the bird,” the young man sneered. “Likes the leeches in her—”

At that moment, the young man trailed off. His entire face fell blank, the anger and cruelty falling off like water. He swayed about a moment as if drunk, and his companion looked at him with sudden concern.

“Falk?” His friend asked. “Falk, what—”

Falk suddenly lurched forward, and did not catch himself. He fell fast and face-first onto the ground. His friend immediately went to check on him, and gasps went up around the village center as people saw what was happening. Others rushed to his side as the Owl sighed and began to slowly approach.

“He’s breathing,” someone said. “He’s alright.”

“Let me see him,” Owl said calmly.

“Like the pit we will!” Falk’s friend swore. “You’re not coming near him, bird!”

“He may be ill,” Owl said.

“Because of your sorcery!” Someone accused. “You reached out with your evil and struck him, didn’t you?”

The Owl stood still, trying to determine how to navigate this. She was no Crow, she lacked the diplomacy to handle this, and she didn’t have a Raven’s martial training to defend herself non-lethally.

She thought of the vial at her hip. If this got violent…

“Can it, and let the good doctor see the patient,” Sparrow suddenly said, stepping forward.

The crowd regarded the ranger with suspicion, but ultimately relented, until only Falk’s friend stood at his unconscious side. The Owl approached, and nobody stopped her; even as she kneeled at Falk’s side, his friend did not leave him, but remained silent as she examined him.

“No miasma,” she remarked, gazing over him. “May be humorous in origin.”

She took his pulse, and found it slow but steady. As if he were resting. His breath was even and strong. When she opened his eye lid, his pupil responded to stimulus. For all intents and purposes, he was healthy, aside from a sudden loss of consciousness. She looked to his friend.

“I am going to take a small amount of his blood,” she explained slowly and calmly. “I need to examine it to see if I can find what is causing this.”

He took a knife out from his belt and pointed it at her.

“You so much as poke him,” he said, “and I’ll gut you.”

The sound of a bow being drawn cut through the silence.

“Try it,” Sparrow dared.

They all sat like that for a moment. Owl slowly took out a syringe from the right side of her belt. The young man did not shift, but kept the knife pointed at her, face resolute.

She slowly placed the syringe into his wrist, drew barely enough blood to test with, and removed the needle. In proper form, she immediately bandaged the puncture with a leaf of crownroot and a stretch of cloth. She plucked the vial of blood from the syringe and placed the syringe into the left side of her belt, to be cleaned. The blood she slipped into a belt pouch before standing up.

“I will examine this with the tools I have available,” she said. “I will see if I cannot determine what has caused it.”

“My eyes are on you, whore,” the young man said. “If you work your curse on anybody else…”

The Owl rolled her eyes and turned to go. She had no time to listen to blind superstition.

She just wished she had a Crow here to keep the people calm. Or a Raven to keep them cowed.

Instead, she could feel the malice of the crowd, especially as Sparrow put her bow away. She heard the whispering, the muttering, the contemplation of what to do about her. Already the seeds of an angry mob were forming.

#writeblr #fantasy #plaguecore #plague doctors #the sodality #the young owl

5 notes · View notes

thecomicsnexus · 5 years

Photo

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES #24-26 AUGUST - OCTOBER 1989 BY RICK VEITCH

SYNOPSIS (FROM TURTLEPEDIA)

As the story begins, Master Splinter is training the Turtles. The Sensei is attempting to broaden their spiritual scope, but their warrior's hearts are still too strong to grasp the subtleties of their lessons. The Sensei probes each Turtle, to discern their strengths, weaknesses and phobias. Splinter senses that there is a weak link in their chain, and as he releases them from their training, each student bows before the master... save for Raphael, who has bound off to go swimming. Leonardo apologizes to Splinter for Raphael's behavior, and the Sensei states that perhaps they are not mature enough to grasp the next stage of ninjutsu training. Upon hearing this, the other three Turtles angrily take off in pursuit of Raph. The Master is pleased, as group pressure is one of the lessons of ninjutsu.

Leo, Don and Mike dive into the murky waters and find an underwater cave. As they emerge into the chamber, clubs in hand, they find Raphael bent over something. The three brothers approach their sibling with ill intent when Raph points out that he's found some recently hatched turtle eggs. Everyone's mood lightens as they find dozens of baby turtles swimming around their feet. The guys muse briefly about what it would be like had they remained normal turtles. As Raph investigates the shells, he finds one baby turtle stuck in the sand. When he examines it, he finds that a large leech has attached itself to the young terrapin. Raph is grossed out by the bloodsucking creature and uses a stick to remove it from the baby turtle. The other guys are amused that Raph is afraid of the leech and they attach it to his foot. Raph freaks out and yells at them to get it off of him. Leo, Don and Mike laugh and toss Raph back into the water. The three brothers run off, psyched that they finally "got Raph good!" Raphael emerges from the water and pulls the leech off of his foot. As he's about to squish the parasite, Raph decides that it's not the worm's fault for being what it is and he tosses it back to the ground, telling it to stop picking on poor, defenseless turtles. The discontented Turtle than heads off after his mirthful brothers, warning them that they'll be laughing out of the other side of their faces once he catches them.

The next day the Turtles have resumed their practice with Splinter, but they still fail to grasp the inticracies of his lesson. As the Sensei mentally scans the region, he looks for a sign that the Turtles are opening their minds... but none are able. Raphael, more than any other, struggles. As Splinter views the surroundings, he is alerted to something in the water... a large leech. It is hungry... and has a malignantly cruel and evil presence!

Master Splinter is shocked by his discovery, and involuntarily he jerks away from the vision. The violence of the Sensei's recoil shocks his pupils and sends Raphael into unconsciousness.

The next day the Turtles are lounging around the river without their Master. Leo, Don and Mike are trying to make peace with Raphael, who is angry with them for how they treated him in the cave. The boys spot a large snapping turtle swimming across the creek and are shocked when they see something attack her. The brothers dive into the water and see a very big leech. The parasite seems oddly familiar to the Turtles, and they chase it. The worm takes refuge in a small cave. Raph decides to trap the leech in the hole by blocking the entrance with his shell. Raphael then sends his brothers off to fetch their weapons, so they can dispatch the leech.

Shortly the Turtles return with Splinter. Raphael is unconscious once again, and as his family wonders what's happened now, Raph slumps forward into the water, revealing the much larger leech attached to his back, sucking fluid from the Mutant Turtle. The creature has now grown arms and legs and it rises to meet its attackers. Master Splinter tells his students to stand their ground as he focuses his mind, in attempt to connect with the beast that had disturbed his visions two days earlier... but before the Sensei can make contact, Leonardo chops it into pieces. Raph groggily awakens and Leonardo apologizes to Splinter for reacting. The Sensei tells his student that their current lessons are designed to teach them how to protect themselves with other means than blades, but hopefully the threat has passed.

The next morning the Turtles are once again practicing with Master Splinter. Yet again, Raphael is having trouble focusing his mind on the lessons. The Sensei tries to reach into Raphael's mind, but his own fear and doubt prevent him. Suddenly, Raph breaks ranks and pursues a dragonfly with childish glee. Splinter ends the lesson and Michelangelo asks why all of them must suffer when Raph acts coo-coo... the Master does not answer.

Back at the farm, April and Casey join the Turtles and Splinter for dinner. All eyes are on Raphael as his food is placed before him. Raph smiles innocently and then smashes his hand down on the plate, splattering the room, and everyone in it, with goulash. Raph bursts out laughing as the others glare at him.

As time passes, everyone is dismayed as Raph reverts more and more into a normal turtle. Splinter tells Leo, Don and Mike that the leech is responsible for Raph's condition - that it must have sucked the Mutagen out of Raph's system, and so he's returning to his original form. The Turtles will have to find the leech to save Raph, so the group head down to the river. As the TMNT search the waters, they find nothing. April asks Splinter if they can simply recontaminate Raph with Mutagen, but the Sensei points out that the canister that contained the ooze is empty and there is no way to contact the aliens from the T.C.R.I., so there is no Mutagen to be had.

As the skies darken, Casey announces that they should call it a night. The Turtles argue against it when they're interrupted by a ranger, who thinks our heroes are fishing illegally. Casey nervously points out that they're merely swimming and that his friends are trying out their new "turtle costumes." Raphael then escapes from April's grasp and swims towards the lawman's boat. As Raphael reaches the craft, the ranger reaches down and grabs the Turtle's hand.

"I just need to get ahold of you one last time, heee heee!" the game warden cackles as Raph mews in anguish.

The ranger lets Raph drop back into the water as he stands, revealing his face - it's the leech, now mutated into a bipedal monster!

The Turtles are incredulous and try to reach the creature's vessel, but it starts an outboard motor and zooms upriver, escaping their wrath. April pulls Raph's limp form from the water as Casey discovers the real Fish and Game Warden, every drop of blood sucked from his dead body. Splinter decrees that the beast stole Raphael's Mutagen to grow, but it feeds on human blood. The Sensei then names the creature "Bloodsucker."

With heavy hearts, Leo, Don and Mike recall how they had tortured Raph with the leech mere days ago. The brothers then gear up in grim determination and prepare to hunt down Bloodsucker.

"Bring it back alive and in one piece, Leonardo," Splinter advises, "It is Raphael's only hope."

Leonardo bows before his master and states, "We shall not fail, Sensei."

Casey says that he'll load up the car with "toys" and meet them upriver. As the Turtles prepare to leave, Raph mews helplessly at their feet. Each brother hugs Raphael goodbye, and the TMNT, only three in strength, set off after their enemy. April picks up the tormented Raphael and tells him that he cannot go with his brothers. Raph desperately grasps for his siblings as April kisses him, "Not this time, baby."

Splinter meditates on the shore of the river. The Sensei reaches out to his pupils; not with his mind, but with his heart, as the heart is the link to the infinite. The Master attempts to see the future, but all he finds are faces from the deep past...

Three inner city boys are set to go fishing in the polluted river. As one wonders if it's safe, his companion states, "As long as Officer Mannigan don't catch us it's cool!"

As the boys explore the dank river bed, they discover some ancient Native American carvings of odd faces. One boy frightens another with ghost stories, and says that the authorities are always finding new pictograms in this area. Sure enough, they find a new carving of a turtle. Just then the children hear the put-put-put of an outboard motor and see the game warden approaching in his boat. They take cover and the lawman passes. As the boys breathe a sigh of relief, the warden rises from behind them. Of course, this is no ordinary fish and game officer, but the hideous mutant monster, Bloodsucker! The creature grabs one of the boys and carries him off. Another lad grabs his fishing rod and casts, tripping up the monster and freeing his friend. The kids flee in terror but are quickly set upon by the beast once again. As Bloodsucker laughs and announces his plans to drain them of their vital fluids, several shurikens pound into his flesh. The creature turns to see Leo, Don and Mike, who announce their intention to take Bloodsucker back to Northampton... one way or another.

Bloodsucker tears a tree from the ground and tosses it onto the Turtles, pinning them underwater. The boys run away as the mutant parasite gloats about how it will devour each Turtle in turn and become ever more powerful.

Master Splinter still sits in meditation... he has sensed the Turtles peril and seeks out help. He arrives again at faces from the past, but they merge into the present... to a hand carving images into rock face.

Casey and April are racing down the streets. April is upset with Jones' reckless driving, but Casey assures her that he knows how to handle the local "small town cops" and brags about the hot new gear shifter that he and Raph installed. April isn't impressed and she points out that their goal is to save Raphael, who has gotten quite small and now fits comfortably on her lap. Jones announces that they'll find the slimy bug, as he speeds by a police car. The officer hits his siren and pulls out to pursue the speeding Chevy. Casey grins and prepares to shift the car into overdrive, but the gear shifter breaks off in his hand. We next see Casey pulled over, a pistol pointed at his head through the window, held by a very angry Officer Mannigan. The cop pulls Jones out of the vehicle and cuffs him after finding Casey's "Jason"-styled hockey mask. As Casey demands to know why he's being arrested, the three fishing boys arrive.

The boys tell the policeman about the monster and three giant, weapon-toting turtles, but Mannigan is dubious. April and Casey decide that they have to take action, and Casey runs away and jumps off a bridge, into the water below. Jones hits hard and loses consciousness below its surface, as Mannigan pulls April from the car. The cop asks the boys if Casey has come up yet, and the children announce that he hasn't. Mannigan couldn't care less and he orders the boys to get into his squad car, so he can check out their monster story. As the police car speeds away, the squealing tires propel Raphael off of the bridge onto the rocks below. Fortunately, Raph's shell protects him from the fall and he emerges from it mewing. As Raph spots the ancient face carvings, a figure emerges from the water carrying Casey's limp body. The man picks up Raphael, musing to himself, and then heads upriver, where he intends to speak with the "old man," who apparently knows everything.

Splinter senses that his sons have escaped their peril, and he hears a call...

Mannigan has locked up April and the boys and is calling his boss, Booder, to tell him the lads' story. Booder is not happy about the news and orders the cop to keep the boys under lock and key and to meet him pronto, with his scattergun in hand. As Officer Mannigan prepares to leave, the boys yell at him that he can't leave them alone, as it's illegal. The policeman doesn't care, as Booder's uncle is the local judge. The cop gets into his squad car and leaves his prisoners to their own devices. As April bemoans the behavior of men, one of the boys uses his fishing rod to snag the cell keys.

Casey awakes in a cavern, filled with ancient carvings. As he rises, he's met by Leo, Don, Mike and Raph (who's being held in Leo's hand). The TMNT introduce Jones to Abanak, the last surviving member of the Algonquin Nation. We learn that it was Abanak who pulled all of our heroes to safety, and then the man tells his story.

400 years ago, this area was the home of his people, and the caves they're in now were holy land. All was well and good, until Colonel Booder showed up. Booder brought an army when he arrived, and he killed the Algonquin leaders and lead the people astray. The Colonel then opened factories on the river and polluted the land and water, growing rich and powerful as he destroyed all that the Algonquin people held sacred. Abanak is all that remains of his once prosperous nation, and he lives among the caverns as a "ghost," carving the effigies of his ancestors into the walls of the caves, who appear to him in his dreams. Abanak then states that he has had a dream that he will find his destiny with the help of warrior turtles.

Abanak leads everyone deeper into tunnels, explaining that while most everyone is ignorant of the land's bloody history, the living ancestor of Booder is not. After the government had passed environmental laws that would put the factories out of business, Booder had dug secret sewage pipes to deposit the poisonous waste into the hidden underground caves. The TMNT emerge into a huge cavern and see gigantic pipes pumping bilge into the water. Michaelangelo retches at the smell and Leonardo announces that this is the most disgusting cesspool that he's ever seen. Abanak states, "We used to call it the Well of Pure Souls."

Abanak says that his destiny awaits him up in Booder's "death factories." Leo suggests that Casey should utilize his plumbing skills and plug the septic system, thus causing the pollution to back up into the factories where it originates from. Then Leonardo gives Raph to Jones to guard as the other four heroes ascend ladders attached to the pipes.

At the factory, Booder is yelling at Mannigan. Booder fears that the mutants the boys saw were created by his pollution, and he's deadly afraid that the E.P.A. will discover his secret dumping ground and ruin his business. The cop states that maybe all they saw was the Ghost, who Mannigan had shot with rock salt once. Booder states that he has also seen the Ghost, and that his family has been haunted for seven generations. The crooked businessman than declares that it's time to put an end to the Ghost. Mannigan loads his shotgun and the two set off to find the apparition that troubles them.

As the two men arrive at the main shaft, Booder's armed guard inform him that they've heard voices from below... someone is climbing up! Booder orders them to shoot to kill and takes the shotgun from Mannigan, who tries to tell his boss that it's only loaded with rock salt, but Booder is too crazed to listen.

As Abanak and the Turtles climb, the Native American thinks he hears voices from above. He and Leo move ahead to investigate. As they climb, Leonardo asks Abanak what his people would do if they were given the land back, and the man states that they would clean it up so that all could share in its bounty, as they never considered it to be just "their" land... the river and the land are not things that any man can possess, as they belong to everyone.

As Abanak finishes his statement, he is greeted by an enraged Booder, who fires the shotgun into the Native American's face. Abanak falls and Leonardo calls out to his brothers to catch him. Booder's men then open fire with automatic weapons as Booder announces a ten thousand dollar reward for "each one you bag."

Abanak is hurt, but since the gun was loaded with rock salt, his wounds aren't mortal. Gunfire rains down on the Turtles from above, though, and it is life threatening. Casey yells that he's stopped up the pipe and the waste should back up soon. Leonardo wonders what Raph would do in this situation, and determines that he would simply attack - so the Turtles do just that. The Ninja cover their approach with shurikens and make it to the top, where they whip Booder's henchmen. Booder and Mannigan attempt to flee, but the crooked businessman won't let the cop escape the fight, and he pushes him into the fray. Just then the waste erupts out of the pipe and it hits Booder square in the chest and carries him towards the edge of the main shaft. As the criminal falls, he is caught... by Abanak! The Algonquin pulls Booder to safety, stating that even he doesn't deserve to die in such a manner. Booder is shocked to find that the "Ghost" is an "Indian," and asks what Abanak expects him to do now that he's saved his life, "I should give you back your land, s-shouldn't I?" the crook queries.

"Let's start with a couple of acers!" growls Booder, as he knees Abanak in the groin, "Sucker!"

Booder than escapes to a waiting car, where he flees the factory... only to find Bloodsucker waiting in the backseat to devour him shortly thereafter.

As the factory floods with toxins, the Turtles help Casey carry Abanak to safety. As they get outside, April shows up in Casey's car. Jones is astonished that the vehicle is running, and April proudly displays the gear shift that she's fixed. Everyone piles into the car and they zoom off.

Later we see the three fishing boys as they watch the E.P.A. arriving to clean up the wasted factories. As the boys lament their parents' stupidity for letting things get so bad, they spot the '57 Chevy. April pulls up and the Turtles thank the kids for helping Ms. O'Neil escape. Abanak then hands the boys his hammer and chisel, telling them that his work is done, and asking them to take his place. The boys humbly agree to try.

April then speeds off down the highway as everyone worries about how they'll find Bloodsucker. As April steers the car towards Northampton, Bloodsucker pulls up behind them in Booder's car...

Splinter still meditates - his vision follows the river, all the way to its source, in the wilds of northern Vermont. There he finds a figure, bent with age, shining with a focus all its own, returning the Master's gaze spark for spark.

Splinter meditates, and tracks down Bloodsucker, who is working his way ever further upstream. Splinter is then carried through the swamps and wilderness to where the river is born, where he finds the aged form of The One Who Waits.

Casey and April are working on the Chevy, which has broken down again. Mike announces that they're stuck and Don informs him that Abanak has found a canoe under the brush of the nearby river. The coincidence is hard to grasp, but Abanak says that it's a sign that the Old Man is helping them, and that he saw it in a dream. The boat only carries four, so April and Casey are forced to stay with the car. The pair say that they'll get the vehicle fixed and wait for the Turtles to return. Suddenly everyone notices that Raph is missing, and a frantic search begins. Leonardo spots Raph, who is facing a weasel. Don exclaims that they have to help Raphael, but Leo refuses... for although Raph has been reverted to a pet shop turtle, he's still Raphael. Sure enough, Raph bites the weasel on the neck and the animal flees in pain.

The Turtles and Abanak head up river in the canoe. Abanak tells the boys about the Old Man, who has always been here and knows all. Abanak has seen the Old Man in his dreams and knows that he exists, and that he can help. As our heroes head upstream, Bloodsucker stalks them from the trees above. Suddenly, the canoe overturns and everyone is surprised to find thousands of fish in the stream. As Don rises to his feet, he's amazed to find that the fish have lifted him out of the water and he's riding on their backs!

"I think we're about to go for the ride of our lives!" the brainy terrapin announces.

No sooner has Donatello made his remarks than everyone is hauled upriver on the backs of the fish, water skiing without boat or line. The fish even carry the group up a waterfall! The crew is dropped off by a large, flat stone. Abanak states that this is as far as his dreams have revealed the land to him. He believes that the rock is called the Wisdom Stone, and that they should stand upon it. The Turtles are uneasy, feeling like they could be walking into a trap. Mike spots ornaments in the pine trees, and as he muses whether or not the Old Man celebrates Christmas, the stones speak to him, telling him that they were placed here by druids, long before Christianity existed. Alarmed by the talking ornaments, the TMNT back into defensive position, which places them onto the Wisdom Stone... which bursts brightly with energy.

Splinter's meditation is going badly... countless entities are assaulting him, and the Master senses a trap. As the Sensei tries to focus, all that emerges is a clear image of the Old Man...

The Old Man has appeared on the Wisdom Stone, and he explains that he has lived so long that he is now the river, and it is he. He tells the tale of an ancient, technologically advanced civilization that thrived but destroyed itself during the age of dinosaurs, and how the few that survived swore off technology and embraced the Earth, soon unlocking her deepest secrets. They learned that the rivers were conduits of planetary energy, power lines that helped them gain all knowledge of the physical world. Eventually, the survivors transcended flesh and merged with the rivers, so that there is one for each of the world's waterways... and they're still searching for knowledge, still hungry to learn all that is new.

The Turtles ask the Old Man if he can help Raphael change back, and the ancient one states that he probably could, as he's the one responsible for the regression in the first place, since he is the river and all its creatures. Just then Bloodsucker arrives. The Turtles are upset that the Old Man sent this abomination after Raphael, while the river master muses what is more of an abomination, a mutant leech, or a mutant turtle? Leonardo demands to know why the Old Man orchestrated these events, and the archaic being explains that back when the Turtles first reached his waters and longed to know what their lives would be had they remained normal turtles, he too felt their pangs, as well as his own, to know what they were... for the Turtles were the first mutants that he had ever encountered. The Old Man states that the Turtles were something new to the river, and that he must study them very thoroughly.

Donatello says that they aren't the type who like to be studied and tells the river master to change Raph back and they'll be on their way. The Old Man says that he believes Raphael is happier as he is, and that he thinks all four would be happier if they would return to their natural form. The Turtles get angry and brandish their weapons, which angers the river god... who unleashes great power throughout the entire waterway. The burst of energy also snaps Master Splinter's mind, thus giving control of the Sensei to the Old Man, who uses his newfound ability to mesmerize the Turtles.

While the TMNT stand frozen, Bloodsucker grabs them and prepares to feed on them. Abanak argues for their lives, which only angers the Old Man more. As the ancient one berates Abanak, Raphael bites him on the finger. Bemused, the Old Man tosses Raph into the river.

As Bloodsucker savors the Turtles, Raph swims over and bites him on the toe. The monster raises its leg in bewilderment, causing it to lose its balance, whereby it tumbles over the falls with all four Turtles in tow.

Abanak grows angry and tells the Old Man that he is petty and greedy, just like all the men who have sought control of the river. He lifts Leo's katana and attacks the ancient being, only to be blasted into the trees with a bolt of energy. As the Old Man is distracted by Abanak, Splinter is able to break free of the river master's psychic grasp. Splinter realizes that the power that the river holds is the power of life itself, and then he braces to make his attack.

Cut to the caverns near the city, where we see the fishing boys dutifully carving effigies in the stone. We discover that Officer Mannigan was sentenced to 20 years hard labor, and that it will take that long to clean up the river. The boys sense something and look up, to see a bolt of energy zooming up the river.

Casey and April are still working on the car. As their frustrating task nears completion, Casey feels the ground shake and they rise to see the bolt of lightning careening overhead.

Back at the base of the river, the Old Man catches the full force of Splinter's attack. The river master realizes too late that he'd forgotten about the rat... and Splinter was able to utilize the power of the river to cut off the ancient one's life-giving supply of atoms. The Old Man crawls to the shore.

Leonardo is sitting in the waterfall... he's groggy and having trouble remembering why he's here, when suddenly he's attacked by Bloodsucker. As Leo fights for his life, Michaelangelo arrives to assist him. Donatello joins the fray, but all three are overpowered and tossed aside. However... Raphael clings to the monsters face, and when the beast shakes its head to free itself from Raph's grasp, a portion of its mouth is torn free.

The Old Man struggles on shore to regain control over his failing body. Abanak emerges from the woods, and the ancient river master begs for his assistance. When Abanak states that he's no sorcerer, the Old Man tells him that he has the power, but he was never informed because the ancient one feared that Abanak would use his abilities to usurp the river master. The Old Man reverts to the form of an infant and pleads with Abanak to stop Splinter's attack. Abanak stands silently as he watches the Old Man shrink into nothingness.

Bloodsucker is holding the Turtles' heads underwater, trying to drown them. Leonardo manages to flip the behemoth and free his brothers. As Bloodsucker rises from the depths, he is attacked by a large turtle... Raphael?

Bloodsucker flees behind the falls, the giant turtle biting into his neck. As Mike and Don suggest that they should go in and help Raph, Leonardo refuses.

"This is the way he'd want it." the leader states.

From behind the falls we hear mewing... as a shadowy form begins to emerge from behind the curtain of water. Finally, Raphael bursts into sight, "Mew my arse." he growls.

The brothers embrace in glee, and they ask Raph how he did it. Raphael explains that each time that he bit into the mutant leech's hide, he felt a little better... so he continued to chow down until he'd regained all of his vital fluid back. Leonardo asks what happened to Bloodsucker, and Raph produces a normal leech... now that Bloodsucker himself had been drained, he turned back into his former self. Raph then pretends that he's going to attach the leech to one of his brothers, who all freak out. "Kill it! It's dangerous!" they scream.

Raph explains that it's harmless now and just wants to get back to its normal business, so the Mutant Turtle drops it back into the river. Just then they're confronted by a robed figure they mistake for the Old Man.

However, it turns out to be Abanak, who has assumed the role of river master. Abanak states that both of their quests have come to an end, but the Turtles demand to know who's side he's on, since he lead them into the trap. Abanak replies, "The river's." and then he conjures the fish, which carry the TMNT back to where April and Casey are. The car is finally repaired, but the fish ride isn't stopping! As they pass, the Turtles call out to their friends that they'll see them back in Northampton.

Back in the city, the boys have finished their carvings... of their own faces! They feel that this shows the world that they're serious about their duties, and they plan to protect the river from now on. Suddenly the Turtles go zooming by, and they send Abanak's greetings to the lads and tell them that they'll be contacted by the new river master soon... via their dreams.

Back in Northampton, the Turtles meet Master Splinter. They're jubilant over their victory and excited to celebrate, but the Sensei greets them with cold silence. The four quiet down nervously, and bow to their Master. Master Splinter bows back.

Perhaps they are maturing...

Meanwhile, far upstream, a glowing human embryo is caught in the current. As it struggles to escape its fate, it is swallowed by a common leech... one that possesses a distinct scar on its throat... and a half-remembered taste for the blood of the Mutant Turtle.

REVIEW

Imagine mixing Stephen King with Alan Moore. This story is a clear descendant of both (more about Swamp Thing than Moore himself). Of course, Rick Veitch was no stranger to Swamp Thing at the time, so it is an obvious comparison.

TMNT stories are usually creative and weird, and that’s their strongest feature. But this story feels like a real tale, that while still has a level of weirdness, it is indeed a full-fleshed tale.

As such, this may be the first TMNT story I have read (up to 1989) that feels different. Like a real pro actually driving the ship. It’s an interesting experiment.

I feel like this is one of the best TMNT stories I have ever read, and its place in canon is actually debatable (the guest era stories are usually non-canon, but Eastman himself said that this story fits well in canon).

Veitch’s turtles also look amazing. I am not a big fan of his humans, but here his style fits perfectly.

I understand if the similarities to famous Stephen King stories take you out of the story, but it works for me.

I give this story a score of 10.

#rick veitch #tmnt #indie #teenage mutant ninja turtles #mirage studios #comics #review #modern age #1989 #stephen king #swamp thing #bloodsucker

16 notes · View notes

dangermousie · 5 years

Text

This is epically long

One of the things I love about this drama is that everyone has shades of grey. Oldest brother is a monster of a sibling, but he is a loving husband and father. Honestly, a lot of the fault for his behavior lies with the awful father who, instead of ensuring the half-brothers got along and deal with the complexities of the half sibling relationship instead treated one as an angel and one as the devil and did nothing to stop those who kept pouring poison into the ears of the eldest about how Tingye and his mother were super evil (remember little eldest? He actually liked his stepmom.) Not to mention that the old Marquis himself shared the view that Tingye and his mom were satan so that probably entrenched eldest’ views. This show is magic - somehow I still felt sad when eldest died.

So the old monster had a deathbed repentance? That’s something at least, though still wholly inadequate. (But how unsurprising, the rest of the family stole it from Tingye.) But I think the old marquess always knew he was wrong and that probably made him even more angry and awful and only when he was dying was he able to admit it to himself.

Oh God, Tingye. If this was modern times, I’d recommend so much therapy. And the fct that he always longed for his father’s love - so sad.

Good Lord, that is the most shameless thing I have heard in a long time.

And that is why he is different from the rest of his awful family. (Also, compare him with old marquess - the old man made Tingye’s life hell, because he hated his mom. But Tingye treats Ronghie as precious despite her horror of a mother.)

And that is why living back then sucks! In modern society, he could walk out and never see all the bloodsuckers and gaslighters and abusers ever again and never deal with them. But here he has to deal with them forever and be a part of them forever and to me that is horrible.

Awwww and he so needed to hear that.

How does literally everyone else in the family, including the dim Third, understand Tingye better than the stepmother, who is cunning and raised him? I think she is just blinded by her loathing and her inability to imagine people can be different from her.

oh my GOD!!!!!

I am not sure what I love more - her utter shock at getting a title or how he listens to the usual flowery praises of her awesomeness from the official and just swoons because he totally agrees with that for real.

Look at how adorably smug he is!

Ahahahahahahahaha I love you, Tingye. He is often straightforward, which is so refreshing in the world of hints and untruths.

OMG can Third actually have brains despite his crazy mom?

That was the most adorable thing, him coaxing her to call him “darling Second” instead of the more formal wife. Whenever there are cracks in her propriety, I am almost as delighted as he is. And honestly, Minglan needs someone who would do it now and then.

OK OMG MANNIANG IS BACK WTF!!!!

Hahahaha Minglan spiking evil stepmother and Manniang, using all the patriarchal structures and restrictions. And you can tell Tingye is so proud of his wifey.

Oh Good God, Minglan! What sane woman, even back then, is all “it’s super easy for you to sleep with a woman you loathe” and mean it, even back then? Sure, she doesn’t realize he wants her to want him to be monogamous and not want him with other women. The society’s values are too ingrained in her. Despite him doing everything but waving a flag. But even back then, any woman who cares for her husband would normally be “I don’t love this and I don’t want you to do it, but I know you should for your kid.” But I can’t even blame Minglan because she is trying to be an ideal wife, precisely because he is so good to her and she cares for him, so she is trying to suppress her jealousy (you can tell she is filling it) because she thinks that is what he would want. Talk about crossed signals.

Oh my God. I audibly gasped at this - not even as much at her murder attempt but at the relish she took in telling him his son is dead. My God. Can my favorite characters ever get a break? In modern world, they’d need to be in therap therapy forever.

This scene! This scene! Her freaking out he is hurt, his denial that his son is dead etc etc. My heart!

OK, this scene just gave me the creeps and shivers We have never seen Tingye losing it to this degree and Manniang is both terrifying and repulsive and pitiable. Also, her blaming him for their son’s death is very her - nobody made her take the kid, he wanted the boy left with him. She left and stole the child away and refused to be found.

Awwwww. I love that her understated manner is such an ingrained part of her that even in insane situations she calms everything down by her mere presence. And that he is able to calm down and adore her even in the middle of all this insanity. It basically shows their relationship is the basic bedrock in their lives.

Oh, Tingye. The thing with his son hits him extra hard because of his own issues though frankly, his father was right there and so it was worse.

One of the things I love the most about Tingye is how fundamentally decent he is, despite his upbringing. Because here he is with Manniang trying to kill him, taunting him, just a monster of a person who took his son away from him, and he still says not one bad word about her to their daughter. He grew up in a monstrous environment and instead of imitating it in his own life, it just made him more conscious of how damaging parents can be and how fragile a child is and look how well he has taken that lesson to heart - making up white lies about a woman who shortly before he was so insane with rage about he wanted to torture and murder on the spot. Because he has learned a lesson most characters on this drama have not - putting someone else above yourself.

And what a contrast to her mother, who throws all that love and devotion in her face and is only fixated on herself and hurting people she hates and views her daughter as nothing in light of that. Only a tool. And then even less than that, as she tries to kill her.

Congratulations if you made it through this beast of a post!

#the story of minglan #cdrama #feng shao feng #Zhao liying #monster long post and pic heavy you have been warned

30 notes · View notes

recentanimenews · 5 years

Text

Anime's Top 10 Vampires of All Time!

As the time for Halloween approaches, it makes us nostalgic for all of our favorite monsters, goblins, ghouls, and ghosts that haunt our anime. But what about the regal, majestic vampire? While they seem to be popular, vampires are pretty rare in starring roles, and separating the wheat from the chaff is an even harder task. A lot of times, the poor vampire is relegated to cannon fodder for powerful main characters to dispatch, treated as nothing more than lowly monsters to be exterminated, meaning it can be easy to disregard them as something uninteresting or weak. But fear not; we’ve learned from the best Van Helsing School of Vampire Hunters to catalogue who we think are the 10 top vampires in all of anime! Think you can stomach the challenge of standing up to these terrible titans, keep scrolling… If you dare!

HONORABLE MENTION: Dracula Man (Dragon Ball)

Our list wouldn’t be complete without at least one honorable mention, and we felt it was hard to leave Dracula Man (AKA Fangs) here off the list. While not quite famous for being a vampire in the traditional sense, fans of Dragon Ball likely recognize this Thai Kickboxing Vampire! Dracula Man is far from the only vampire in Dragon Ball, with quite a few of the movies seemingly love the idea of pitting the Z Warriors against undead bloodsuckers, he’s the only one who appears in the canonical show itself. Of course, Dracula Man also has another dubious “honor”: being one of the only foes in the entire series defeated by Puar (with help from Upa, of course)! Dracula Man would go on to be something of a Dragon Ball in-joke, appearing in some of the games released well after his initial debut in the series, so we figured we’d say “fangs” for the memories, but not quite enough to make the top ten!

10) Staz Charlie Blood (Blood Lad)

Blood Lad was a quirky title that featured various supernatural types going at one another in a struggle to control the underworld. The protagonist, Staz, is a bit of an oddball compared to other vampires: he isn’t really affected by garlic, doesn’t mind crosses, can’t fly, and doesn’t even have wings. What he does have, however, is a huge obsession with Japanese anime and video games! Aside from that, Staz is the a territory leader in Demon World East, making him more of a delinquent than a refined aristocrat, but he is a descendant of Dracula himself (not an uncommon thing for most anime vampires, to be fair)! Staz is certainly a unique take on the modern vampire, and earns his spot at number ten for being a quirky, but likeable, modern rendition of the blood sucking creature of myth.

9) Sunako Kirishiki (Shiki)

Shiki was a pretty heavy and dark show, and we figured we’d get that warning out of the way first for anyone who might be curious to check it out after reading our list: things get dark, and we mean DARK. The vampires of Shiki tend towards the ghoulish side, with their dark eyes making them seem even more inhuman than usual. Perhaps most unusual is Sunako, a seemingly young girl that resembles a doll more than a dangerous monster. Sunako wants nothing more than to find some way for the Shiki and humans to live in some sort of harmony, but the cruel world she lives in, and the actions of both groups, makes her dream seemingly impossible. Like Staz and a few other good vampires, Sunako only feeds to survive, trying to limit her need to do so as much as possible and cause as little suffering as she can.

8) Saya Otonashi (Blood The Last Vampire / Blood +)

While technically the same character, the two versions of Saya are quite different, and equally memorable. Blood the Last Vampire’s version of Saya is that of a cold, seemingly aloof young woman who becomes a cold blooded killer, hunting down the monsterous Chiropterans. Fighting vampiric beasts with a katana is cool, but it’s even cooler when you’re also the last remaining “true” vampire that exists! In Blood+, this version of Saya similarly hunts Chiropterans, although her past is far more mysterious and her own existence as a vampire is clouded in mystery and intrigue. Either version of Saya is worthy of being on a list, but we wanted to highlight both, as the movie and TV show were amazing and worth the watch!

7) Mina Tepes (Dance in the Vampire Bund)

Mina Tepes' standing of the queen of all vampires sounds great, until you realize that everyone is seemingly out to kill you! After paying off all of Japan’s debts, Mina sets up a supposed vampire safe zone known as the “Bund”, but human aggressors and vampiric plots of usurping the throne threaten Mina’s life… Until she turns the tables on her would be attackers! Mina isn’t quite the little girl she appears to be, and while her bodyguards are quite capable, Mina is a full fledged vampire who has some serious skills and abilities. Mina certainly embodies that sense of aristocracy associated with vampires, what with paying off an entire country’s debts, but the way she carries herself and the vampire culture of the Bund cement the series as having one of the more interesting takes on vampires not as monsters, but as a unique culture separate from humanity. Just make sure you don’t call her a little girl, or you might not live long enough to even regret it!

6) Seras Victoria (Hellsing / Hellsing Ultimate)

Originally a rookie police officer, a fateful and fatal encounter leaves Seras Victoria at the mercy of a cruel choice: die, or become a vampire! Deciding to choose “life”, Seras becomes the ward of the most powerful vampire there is: Alucard! Trying her hardest to resist the temptation to feed and bumbling through her transition from human to vampire, Seras is equal parts adorable and terrifying, as many people who’ve seen her true powers manifest can attest to. If you’re not familiar with her, let’s just say that coming between her and what she wants most is a fine way to get ground to dust! Seras lends a much more “human” component to the vampires of Hellsing, and frankly seems even more rational than some of the humans at times, making her a memorable character for just trying to do her best in the crazy hellscape she lives in. Good luck, Seras!

5) Miyu (Vampire Princess Miyu)

The OG lady anime vampire princess, Miyu is an anime icon that fans of a certain age likely remember as one of their first anime titles ever! A classic horror series, Vampire Princess Miyu followed the titular main character as she hunted down Shinma, demons, that would wander into the human realm to do harm. Miyu is another compassionate vampire, generally selecting people to feed on that she can leave in an eternal state of “happiness” in exchange for the blood they give her. The Miyu series is an absolute classic, starting off as a manga in the 80's and still running today, with numerous anime spin offs in the forms of OVAs and TV shows. I remember first encountering Vampire Princess Miyu in a Blockbuster Video aisle (remember those stores?), and coupled with another high ranking vampire on this list, became one of many reasons why I ended up diving deeper into the wonderful world of anime.

4) Shinobu Oshino (Bakemonogatari)

We will try to avoid too many spoilers here, because one of the joys of the Bakemonogatari series is discovering the web of ways characters interconnect and the secrets that they hide. What we can say is that when the series first debuted, the donut munching young vampire known simply as Shinobu stood out from the rest of the eccentric cast, and seemed to catch the eye of many other fans. Shinobu is a relative mystery in the series, a skulking shadow that doesn’t seem to quite fit in with the things going on around the other characters, and diving further into the Bakemonogatari series reveals why this is. But we don’t want to say too much more about it; go check out the series for yourself and discover why Shinobu rates so highly as one of the most unique vampires we’ve seen in a long time.

3) Vampire Hunter D (Vampire Hunter D)

Along with Vampire Princess Miyu, Vampire Hunter D is an anime that some fans might remember as one of their first anime ever. The star of a long running series of novels illustrated by Yoshitaka Amano, Vampire Hunter D comes to the anime world rarely, and generally in the form of feature films: 1985’s Vampire Hunter D, and 2000’s Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust. Both films are amazing and still hold up today, and D is one of the best semi-silent protagonists there is, hunting down vampires in the post-nuclear future world they inhabit. The mixture of post-apocalyptic sci-fi and medieval style horror make the series truly unique, and whether you’re an anime fan from 30 years ago, 20 years ago, you probably think of D and his fabulous hat when you think of anime vampires!

2) Dio Brando (JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure)

While he’s certainly an odd style of vampire compared to some of the more traditional ones on the list, there are few that can hold a candle to the one, the only, Dio Brando. Originally a human boy who discovered the secret of the Stone Mask, Dio is a being of pure evil and selfish desires that fits perfectly with the image of vampire, and his original vampiric run through Phantom Blood truly feels like a classic movie monster villain. When he re-appears in Stardust Crusaders, Dio’s vampirism takes a bit of a backseat to his Stand abilities, but his classic vampiric cry, “WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!”, still remains! Fans who had a chance to see the original JoJo OVA from the 90s might remember Dio’s fabulous vampire cape, but even without it, his fanged grin and inhuman stamina make Dio one of the top vampires in anime; after all, not many of the others can claim the ability to stop time and drop road rollers on people! Dio, we love you, even if you are a terrible monster.

1) Alucard (Hellsing / Hellsing Ultimate)

When you talk about anime vampires, though, it is really hard to ignore the lanky, leering, and imposing presence of Alucard from the Hellsing series. The huge red hat and coat, the glasses, the wide, inhuman toothy grin, and the huge guns give Alucard a timeless profile, and coupled with his absolutely bonkers assortment of abilities, makes him perhaps the most terrifying vampire on the list. Stopping time for a few seconds seems like child's play compared to some of the abilities that Alucard possesses, and the absolute terror his foes suffer when they realize just how outclassed they are by Alucard makes for some of the best moments in anime. Of all the vampires on the list, Alucard is also the most “authentic”, detesting sunlight, holy symbols and consecrated weapons, and even being unable to cross bodies of water without his coffin and soil. Whether it’s being the most accurate to vampire lore, striking a memorable profile, or just being ridiculously powerful and scary, Alucard really hits all the right buttons when it comes to the top anime vampire!

And with that, we put the last stake into our list! Vampires certainly seem far more popular than they are prevalent, but when a vampire is a good character, they really leave an everlasting impression. So as you get ready to enjoy your Halloween festivities, maybe take some time to revisit some of these amazing vampires, or check them out for the first time. Just beware… If they ask you for a drink, you better protect your neck!

What do you think of our list of vampires? Have any that we didn’t include here? Let us know what you think in the comments, and have a Happy Halloween!

----

Nicole is a features writer and editor for Crunchyroll. Known for punching dudes in Yakuza games on her Twitch channel while professing her love for Majima. She also has a blog, Figuratively Speaking. Follow her on Twitter: @ellyberries

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

2 notes · View notes

forgemaster-defence-squad · 6 years

Text

Isaac Theory Post

(The right and bottom pics are mine.)

Why Isaac will become the Isaac the OG fans are talking about

I am making this theorey post partly because it’s fun and because I love all of our Castlevania Isaacs. I did much research for it, and tried to include things that feel like Castlevania. I give credit to @solidfalcon for helping me write some of it, and sitting there listening to me babble on and on about him for HOURS, and credit to @lucien-lachance for MANY OF THE IMAGES. She has a huge collection of Isaac pictures from the games, I’m so pleased!! Thank you both!!!!

Now, onto Isaac: from games to screen, he would change, though only to tell a great story. Isaac is a complex character whose story needs to be told with care and delicacy. His story in season 2 of the show is only beginning. Being without luxurious crimson locks barely changes his story, it only begins it. And it can only grow from there. I’ve never truly seen him transform before, except in my own headcanon-filled brain, so I’m THRILLED to finally be seeing it on screen!

This is Castlevania, where the design of a character is laced with storytelling and meaning. If Isaac is meant to stay proper looking and professional, he wouldn’t be the same character. His appearance right now doesn’t take away from who he is, it adds to him, and I’m going to go into detail as to why.

Game spoilers below cut!

Animation Isaac vs Game Isaac

Game Isaac: Passion, Devotion To Dracula, ‘Evilness’, Knife Obsession, Vengeance, Wants to be the favourite, Uncomfortable to look at, Licks things.

Animation Isaac: Passion, Devotion To Dracula, ‘Evilness’, Knife Obsession, Vengeance.

I didn’t give animation Isaac the last 3 things that I put with game Isaac because we don’t know anything else. Season 2 isn’t even out yet. Therefore the rest of the post is where what we know about game Isaac becomes theory for animation Isaac. He’s an Isaac-shaped glass that is only a little filled, and it will continue to fill with more Isaac-ey goodness as the show progresses.

The Long Awaited Son

When some Christians hear the name ‘Isaac’ (with no last name) they think first, of Isaac:

(Credit to the creative photographer.)

Dracula’s story is sort of like an inverted Bible story, making it darker but also very clever if you know what you’re seeing. In Castlevania, although Dracula loved his first son, Alucard, he didn’t become the person he wanted him to be, a son who shared his views and would help him take revenge for Lisa. Now here we have Isaac who was taken in by Dracula as a child, the ‘son’ Dracula would have always wanted: Passionate about Dracula’s goal and willing do anything to make it happen. While Alucard cares for humanity, Isaac is passionate to destroy humanity, just like Dracula.

In the Bible, Abraham’s first born wasn’t what he wanted. His first born would become a person who was hostile, while his second son, Isaac would become everything he was promised, a great man who gave blessings.

Also: Isaac’s name means “laughter.” (Insert a gif of Isaac laughing here. I reached image limit in this post twt )

Child of Judas

Quote from Isaac’s page on the Castlevania wiki: “Isaac's name functions both as a hint that all isn't quite as it seems with him, and also as a reference to a particular bit of vampire lore. Biblically, Itzhak (Isaac) was the son of Abraham, who was almost sacrificed as a test of his father's faith. Unlike his namesake Forgemaster, however, Itzhak survived. The vampire folklore his name references appears in the short story "A Kiss of Judas" by Julian Osgood Field, writing under the pseudonym X.L. A principal character in this story is Isaac Lebedenko, who dies and, when reborn, becomes a type of vampire known as a Child of Judas in order to exact revenge on a deserving enemy. Interestingly enough, Children of Judas are said to have red hair.” Isaac’s name, as the quote says, is a hint that all is not quite what it seems, the same is true for his appearance.

Another quote from the same wiki page: “His clothing, too, is yet another hint as to his true nature. It appears as if Isaac is wearing only the remains of his former uniform. The Prelude to Revenge manga, packaged with the soundtrack sampler CD, uses Isaac's attire as a symbol of his mind unraveling. The madder he gets, the more tattered his clothing gets, until we see him in-game in purely ornamental armor bits and those strange pants. Thanks to Dracula's machinations, Isaac is only the broken pieces of the man he once was. Unfortunately, Isaac erroneously blames Hector for the destruction of his life.” ‘Only the broken pieces of the man he once was.’ What we are seeing right now IS the man he once was. We have yet to see him slowly unravel both outward and inward to become the person he’s fated to be. I’m looking forward to it!

My theory for why he could get his Castlevania appearance parallels both the Biblical Isaac and the vampire lore Isaac. Biblical Isaac was nearly sacrificed, then later became something great, while ‘A Kiss of Judas’ Isaac died and then returned to life as something terrible. Games Isaac was used as a vessel to become Dracula. Animated series Isaac is going to suffer, and go through a change, too, which may turn him into that same ‘vessel’ that he became in the games.

Isaac in games canon, after going insane from Dracula’s Curse, didn’t actually change physically, only his clothing melted away.

If in the animation he were to transform the same way as in the games, and physically as well, I think that would be stronger story storytelling. What changes physically is very easy to guess.

Blood Red Hair

Quotes from the Children of Judas page on vampires. com. (Which shows a picture of Isaac btw...) “This group of ruthless bloodsuckers were once found in Serbia, Bulgaria and Romania and you could recognize them due to their blood-red hair.” “These guys are known mainly by oral traditions.”

‘Mlem’

“Wicked vampires were said to have the power to drain their victim’s blood and life force with a single kiss or bite.”

Isaac isn’t a vampire in the game at this point in the above picture, but his kiss is still deadly~ (By that I mean he accompanies it with a knife stab). (Don’t worry, Trevor is ok, Isaac just wanted some Trevor blood.) Another thing that supports this theory is that the creators of the Castlevania series are very inclusive with their vampire lore. They want the show to be good, to be Castlevania, and also a great vampire story. So seeing as how we have yet to see the special ‘blood red hair’ of a ‘Child of Judas’ vampire, it’s safe to say Isaac may become one (in a sense). This is why game Isaac’s hair is redder and more beautiful than that of any other redhead we’ve seen in Castlevania.

Swoon~

The Dragon

As many know, Dracula’s name comes from Dracul which means ‘The Dragon’ or ‘The Devil.’ Dracula gets referred to as the Devil a lot in the animation, and in the games he also turns into a dragon when you fight him. Isaac is ‘a dragon’, and will become a vampire. This is true to games canon, as Isaac has, in fact become a vampire before, only, he became literally Dracula. The ‘Child of Judas’ similarities symbolized that the transformation would take place, as does his massive dragon tattoo that goes down his front, twists around his leg and slides up his back representing the Dragon. Animation Isaac does have tattoos, but none that we seen thus far are dragon-like. Not yet anyway~

(I drew the bottom right one for a closeup of the dragon face. The sketch to the left of it is official concept art.) When his clothing melts away and reveals the dragon tattoo, it symbolizes Isaac losing himself and becoming a dragon.

The Forgemaster crest displayed above shows two dragons. Both are Hector and Isaac. In the game, the Curse of Darkness attempts to transform the Forgemasters into Dracula. They both take on Dracula-like personality traits before Hector finally resists, and Isaac Is the one to lose himself.

In the games, all of this symbolism represented that he would be a mere pawn in Dracula’s scheme and become a vessel for Dracula. However, all of that symbolism is not yet present in animation Isaac, so this entire theory post is here to explain why it will become present.

The Biblical symbols of the Dragon and the Beast talk about the Dragon giving the Beast the power to return to life. The Beast that returned to life looked and spoke like a dragon. That would be neat if the writers parallel these symbols too! The Dragon being Dracula and the dragon-like Beast being Isaac.

Anguish

Dracula takes in both Isaac and Hector at a young age. Treated poorly by humanity, and taken in by Dracula, they probably saw him as their father figure. The Curse of Darkness that rips through the people during Castlevania 3, the same one that causes Isaac’s madness is probably going to be cast during season 2 of the animation. Right now we see him as a seemingly obedient, calm, collective but somewhat violent and angry individual. Someone led by his heart. When the curse is cast, bit by bit, much of that will begin to break away. When Dracula, his inspiration, his father figure, the one thing that gave him life and purpose, is defeated and taken away from him. And then, when Isaac is left for dead by Hector, the curse finally takes complete hold of him. Dracula's curse. Isaac transforms in appearance to reflect the change within. His hair has grown and become wild, his clothing has fallen apart and only ornamental pieces remain. He is only the broken pieces of what he once was. He is MAD.

So when I say he will become a vampire, I mean he will descend into madness and think that his desire for VENGEANCE AGAINST HECTOR will make it all better, but instead, he is just a vessel, a means to an end. He becomes Dracula, he becomes a vampire, a ‘Child of Judas’ in a symbolic sense. It is symbolic in that, he's not a vampire by any traditional sense, but simply because Dracula takes him over, and he becomes the vampire. The symbolism that the death and rebirth he faces before transformation is perhaps not his own death and rebirth, it is Dracula’s past death and rebirth through Isaac.

That would be super cool if he became a vampire himself, though, just a thought.

As you see, I fully expect to see our Isaac form before our eyes in ways I have only previously dreamed these past 8+ years of being a Curse of Darkness fan!

Fire Symbolism

I’ve read in other theory posts in other fandoms that fire in art and literature can symbolize many things. One of those things is death and rebirth. In Castlevania, this symbolism is definitely present, and EXTREMELY heavy-handed. Lisa dies, burned as a witch, from her dead remains ascends an explosion of flame. Who is in that flame? Dracula. So yes, they will use the plot point of Dracula dying and returning to life, and just like in the games, it will be through Isaac. I could go into more detail on fire symbolism as to why, but I think you get me by this point!

Red oni and Blue Oni

Another quote from the wiki: “Isaac and Hector together embody the "Red Oni and Blue Oni" trope. Isaac is denoted by red, and is emotional, temperamental and led by his heart. Hector, in blue, is the more logical and rational of the pair and is able to think things through, considers what he has been told, and in the end saves himself from an ill fate.” In the series, Hector is dressed in blue just as he is in the games, but Isaac has yet to show much red. To continue to fit this trope the way he’s meant to be, he HAS to go through his destined change. In the trailer, Isaac is seen in the past passionately crying with tears in his eyes as he’s about to take what I assume is revenge against someone.

(My poor boi q-q) He still very much embodies the trope with Hector, but not so much visually. He will transform most likely in the exact way I said he would. The series’ first four episodes did nothing but add to the series, not take away. Isaac is going to change, and when he does, he will finally truly mirror Hector, and he will fully become the ‘monster’ he was meant to be. By ‘monster’, what I really mean is: mistake-making, tragic sad boy who I want to cover in fifty blankies and pillows and give grilled cheese to.

TLDR: Isaac will slowly unravel to madness and become the heartbroken mess he was in the games. I’m super excited!!!

~End~ If we watch S2 and I end up wrong and got nothing right, then that’s okay cuz this whole thing was real fun to write. 10/10 recommended write up~

#castlevania #castlevania isaac #castlevania netflix #castlevania the animation #my art #long post #my posts #castlevania meta

63 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 5 years

Text

Marvel's 31 Best Monsters

https://ift.tt/3430jzo

Marvel is more than just superheroes, they've done their fare share of horror characters, too.

facebook

twitter

tumblr

Halloween isn't just for monsters anymore. For every Frankenstein Monster that comes to your door, there are probably sixteen Iron Men and a few Rocket Raccoons. It seems that Marvel (and DC) heroes have infringed on the monstrous monopoly of Halloween, but that’s OK, because to even things out, the Marvel Universe has its fair share of monsters dwelling under beds, behind walls, and in gothic mansions (mansions usually expertly drawn by Mike Ploog) to even things out.

Starting in the late Silver Age, the Comics Code became less restrictive (because Frederic Wertham was killed by a mummy...actually, no he wasn’t), and Marvel was able to bring in all sorts of boogeymen to share page time with the likes of Thor, Spider-Man, and the Fantastic Four. These new, Universal-inspired monsters joined the Kirby Kreatures like Fin Fang Foom and Googam as the Marvel Universe became a world where things that go bump in the night became as commonplace as superheroes.

Join us as we journey into the darkest realms of the Marvel Universe and celebrate the greatest monstrous creations that ever sprang from the nightmares of the House of Ideas.

31. The Glob

Listen, I’m not going to exclude a character named the Glob from this list, am I? The Glob was once Joe Timms, a petty criminal, who like every other comic book swamp character ever, was transformed into a muck encrusted monstrosity by a mysterious bog. Glob fought the Hulk a few times before Timms was recreated into the being known as the Golden Brain and used as a weapon by the villain Yagzan and the crazed Cult of Entropists (and holy shit, did I just get an almost sexual rush from typing that sentence).