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marksofwoe​:

A hummed response is first to arrive, seeing his phone rumble with the incoming responses. Whether or not he accompanies will depend - more so on if Dante is wont to make an example of things. If nothing else, he supposes Griffon could, as he is wont to chatter about origins and the like ceaselessly…

“He is. Though I believe Dante is… more wise to sitting things out, these days.” A few things are typed up on the computer, micromanaging tasks, completions and scheduling. Looking up articles on the area in question… “Speaking of, I do not believe you have acquainted me personally on that. What is it precisely that yours commit to?”

“The watchful eye of a family has humbled him some, has it? For the better, I can only imagine. A business needs unity as much as a family does.” His voice croons with more subtle tunes of laughter as he strides idly by the other man’s desk. His gaze shifts elsewhere, to the afternoon sun in the windows as that question is posed.

“Vampires, for the most part. Those that wished not to abide by the changing laws of our like, who must hide in plain sight if not keep to the shadows altogether, and who must not trouble human lives. Though any number of creatures could filter into our line of business, most regarded by men as fairytales in this modern age. We sooner keep it that way. Demons quite like those that you exterminate are a first to us.”

#marksofwoe #[ ♰ :: IV ; A Melody of Reformation ] #{HE IS BRINGIN THAT FAT CASH and its never bad to have god as ur business partner AHSDFJGK}

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marksofwoe​:

“That’s just my face.” Still a little unwilling to touch anything brought by him, V pulls the folder towards himself with the butt of a pencil’s eraser. Flipping it open with the lead’s tip, going through it visually before that ‘grim’ expression turns a little more so. “Yes… you were right to do so; these fancy imitation, even if that means donning the likeness of other monsters and men alike to elude capture.” Nothing too bad. He opens his phone to begin texting the family’s group chat.

“Thank you for bringing it to our attention; this will be a good learning opportunity for my boy.”

“Then pardon the expression.” Though for all his performance of distaste, V wakes little more than a smile in reply, slight and fair, and just so reaching to Carvel’s eyes as the folder is relinquished into the other man’s grasp (or that of his pencil, at least.) “Yes...a little out of our wheel-house in regards to the sorts of nuisances we typically mind and manage. Doable, perhaps, but not well-suited to our expertise. Or to our methodology...”

A glance passes over the papers laid open, briefly thoughtful. “Your boy is a bright lad. I do not see him having too much trouble. If you can temper your rambunctious brother from cutting in on his fun, at least.”

#marksofwoe #[ ♰ :: IV ; A Melody of Reformation ] #{THE QUEEN OF SHEBA HIMSELF HERE TO FLAUNT AROUND AND BE LIKE THAT LMAO but hes behaving today} #{ascended carvel always is more well behaved}

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marksofwoe​:

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Oh, he’s back…

“Is everything alright, ‘Chairman’?”

“Nothing is wrong. No need to look so grim...” A folder is rapped at the edge of his desk as the Lord quirks a brow. “Just that my staff have been digging on some cases on the outskirts of town we were propositioned to investigate. But as it happens, they appeal more to your specialty than ours--I figured they were better going to you and yours.”

#marksofwoe #[ ♰ :: IV ; A Melody of Reformation ] #{BAD BITCH IS BACK IN TOWN} #{but at least hes being somewhat civil lmao}

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{Thank you tumblr your tagging system sucks as always}

#[ ♰ :: EXECUTIONER ; Carvel ] #[ ♰ :: GOD-KING ; Ayin ] #[ ♰ :: PRAYERS ] #[ ♰ :: AMUSEMENTS ] #[ ♰ :: VI ; No Grave Could Hold My Body Down ] #[ ♰ :: VII ; With The Devil’s Patience ] #[ ♰ :: IV ; A Melody of Reformation ]

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{T H E Q U E E N HIMSELF!!!}

#{ ◤ ♰ :: CHAIRMAN :: ♰ ◢ } #{hey there baby boy i have not seen you in a MINUTE huh} #{man i got some tags to refresh and some stuff to do like wow} #{not promising anything will get done but ill blow out the dust LOL}

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@cursegiven​

“The rain and cold is not even so little as a care to you?” It seems as much to Carvel, who draws the hood of his cloak that little bit tighter about his young, timeless face as the two of them shelter out of the storm in the cold, wind-battered hollow of a cave. Dry, at least, but that’s the least little comfort it has to give. A scoff teases through the vampire’s teeth, dark head bowed till the curls of his hair fall thick and dark across one shoulder from under the trim of his hood. “Pehaps I ask foolishly. You walk around in next to nothing be it rain or snow or shine...”

#cursegiven #[ ♰ :: VIII ; Wakeful Stars Blow Dread Astray ] #[ A S P R O M I S E D LOOOOL] #[set in their medieval time period bc ofc we have to start there]

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forgedwill​:

           “To a certain extent, yes,” a tilt of his own head, albeit upwards in contemplation. May it be to his species that he looks with eyes as wine-red as blood itself. Unusual, for those he has paid witness to, and unusual more to stumble upon one of such fierce power as randomly as this. While there lay no outward threatening air, the discovery is no less startling to him. Brows narrow, but Hector’s tone remains firm as it does sharp, speaking over the distance that sets them parted.

             “Dare I ask who you are?” Possibly. A few steps are taken within the direction he were once directed towards. The horse pulling gently on the reins in hand. “A name, even. It is unusual… though to your credit, I smell no human blood on you…”

“...Carvel. I am called Carvel.” A name is a very simple thing to give, after all. As simple as a glance, as simple as a breath, and nothing in the grand scheme of things. The Lord leaves it to his peculiar guest to decide if one is owed in return--giving no chase but the silent, tentative tread of his soles on the sun-blown grass as his feline eyes slit in the daylight seeping from on high.

“There is nothing human to me. Your senses deceive you not.” A blink, gait paused when he is still a fine few strides away. Lest he unnerve the horse, lest his visitor think him ill-meaning. “In the commonest tongue, you would call me a vampire. I gather from the scent of you that you are familiar with those. A sort of them, at least.”

#forgedwill #[ ♰ :: VIII ; Wakeful Stars Blow Dread Astray ] #[sin thows all her muses into hectors lap part 50] #[have urself ur vamp lord who is a bit standoffish but is otherwise well meaning] #[just lonely tbh LOL] #[whether hector is already a vampire or whether he just smells like leon is up to u LMAO]

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Hey Ayin this is your conscious. I know we haven’t talked in.... we’ve never talked but fear not I am here now. Anyways, you need to stop killing people, and learn to love others. It is very wrong to hurt others, and you’ll be happier once you learn to love. Oh and you should find a hobby something that brings joy to you (that hobby cannot be killing btw) Sincerely - Your little “Jiminy Cricket”

“No.”

#[THATS ALL HE HAS TO SAY TO THAT LOOOOL] #[HE KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS and thats to be a bad bitch] #Anonymous

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@forgedwill​

His is staring is… unprofessional, to say the least. Unmoved and gawking, albeit more so from sheer prowess that is so uniquely - “Oh,” it is as if he were in the company of Hades once more. How odd… how so wildly, absurdly odd that he did not know of this man’s existence. “I beg your pardon, please…”

This is awkward….

Though staring is well known to follow his passing; there are always eyes, leering or awestruck or fearful--the innumerable shades between. There are pale eyes today, mist-pale, lightning bright, curious and gawking. Carvel answers them with red, gaze feline and piercing as it ponders over the stranger from their starlit hair to the hollow of their throat. And then again, their staring eyes.

The smell of power belongs not merely to Carvel himself, he realises. “...” The Lord’s dark head tilts askew, the ruby of his eyes dark with intrigue. “There is nothing to pardon. But you are forgiven, if it soothes you to hear it.”

#forgedwill #[ ♰ :: VIII ; Wakeful Stars Blow Dread Astray ] #[so the castlevania verse where he is not fully ascended yet but just kind of wandering around europe lmao] #[A ROGUE VAMP LORD LOOKING FOR PURPOSE] #[hes a bit milder at this time in his life too which is good for hector LOL]

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What is Carvel's type personality wise? And what kind of partner would be best for him? (He might be attracted to people that aren't good for him.)

In my personal experience in the past few years spent roleplaying with Carvel, I’ve noticed the kinds of people he gravitates towards always seem to fall into the tall, dark and handsome sub category, but more specifically, he likes dominating personalities. People that are self assured, confident, charismatic and even maybe a little egotistical in their own sense of self. Carvel finds these people as irresistible as he does infuriating, perhaps purely because he is so overwhelmingly conditioned to the presence of people that worship him. When faced with someone that doesn’t, it’s exciting even if the size of their ego tends to annoy him. There is an infinite charm to these kinds of people who are strong and commanding of respect that Carvel is simply magnetised towards.

This might stem from the fact Carvel needs a pillar of support as much as someone who isn’t afraid to square up to him and tell him what he needs to hear; Carvel pre-ascension is extremely volatile and even weak in the emotional sense as a consequence to the trauma and misery he’s suffered for most of his life. Strong personalities as such are deeply attractive and deeply necessary, for someone needs to be able to take what Carvel can dish out as much as talk him down.

So, the ideal person for Carvel is someone who is patient, strong, able, supportive but feisty--as even post-ascension when the worst of Carvel’s personality is ironed out, he is still essentially a God in his world and he needs someone who is willing to stand up to and handle that! He needs someone he can see as an equal on at least an emotional level, someone that is a foil to his own cool, reserved personality and someone for that matter that continually inspires him to grow as a person even after his ascension. A firm hand and a good heart will suit him just fine.

#[tho carvel has had VEEERY limited shipping experience ive noticed its always these types when he has it LOL] #[NOT TO SAY THIS ISNT SUBJECT TO CHANGE THO] #[i always end up surprised with him] #Anonymous

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He's just going to pull him into a tight huge before smooching all over his face, happily cooing

And he’s going to just shove Mathias onto the nearest chaise longue so he can hop up on top to curl in his lap, purring throatily in his ear with every smooch he tilts up his head to happily receive. Looks like someone’s glad to see him...

#[COME GET YALL KITTEN GOD MATHIAS] #[HES JUST GONNA SNUGGLE UP ON HIS MAN] #[g-gay....i sniff delightedly] #notte-la-lagna

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How does Carvel react to the death of people he cares about? Like, does he take it really hard? (Heavy, raw crying for days/weeks, deep depression, feels like a knife went through his heart, possibly a personality change, etc) Does it take him years to move past it? Or maybe he locks up and avoids it for a long time? (Like the kind of person that would keep a beloved pet in a freezer for months and not move the pet's items because they don't know what to do or how to feel. They just kinda avoid thinking about it and keep everything as close to unchanged as possible.) Maybe he can only handle a little at a time before he shuts down? Maybe he gets angry? I doubt he's one of those people that isn't deeply effected in some way. He seems too passionate for that.

I’ll start by saying first and foremost that you are correct with your lattermost assumption. Carvel is an extremely volatile person even on his better days (at least pre-ascension Carvel is worse for this fact than post-ascension) and so he is an extremely reactive individual, whatever the emotion. He is always going to be deeply affected by things like loss. At it’s absolute worst, grief sadly manifests for him in a state of near madness as Carvel himself puts it, in saying that “like a mad man, he searched for her” to describe his desperation to recover Eve’s reincarnations. Though the stages of getting to that point go through some noteable patterns I’ve observed in his responses to relationships and loss of all natures, not strictly love (in my own interpretation, that is.)

The initial stage of grief is purely reactive; he goes through immense anger and pain which can sometimes be destructive in nature before he mellows into anguish and mourning, which is where the fits of crying, screaming, sobbing etc. manifest the most abundantly. He is, to begin with, very expressive in his grief. The second stage albeit is a lack of reaction. He turns almost numb in his depression, does not wish to speak, does not wish to drink and does not want to do much of anything at all except be alone with his thoughts and his pain, though not knowing in the slightest what to do with it. Pain therefore is usually answered in pretty nasty self-punishing tendencies in that regard whether he actively realises he is punishing himself when he’s already at his weakest or not. Essentially, he indeed shuts down but to his own detriment. He might still be functional but he’s not entirely present.

The next stage is plain and simple mourning, where he may somewhat return to his normal life, but it’s obvious he is carrying a lot of hurt with him; and Carvel mourns for an incredibly long time. His grief over Eve is the most extreme case as he has been tortured with her lives and deaths over and over again, though that is not to say that Carvel would not grieve for lengthy periods over less consistently traumatic losses either. This is also a period of retreat in the sense while he is able to resume being around others, he can’t bear being close to them and can become hostile when forcibly pulled from it before he himself is ready. Even in the cases where he has recovered enough to be both functional and sociable, people touching on those raw nerves in the wrong way can still set him off into a state of hostility and defensiveness.

Even after his ascension in an era where he is much more in command of his emotions and his temper, I know that losing something precious to him will be enough to tip the scales in that regard.

#[basically carvel has a lot of emotions and has a long winded grieving process] #[AND HE IS INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT TO BE AROUND WHEN HE IS GRIEVING] #[yall will see this even in his main verse where he is still mourning eve] #[he is functioning and comfortable but he has a terrible temper and is downright rude] #[HES VOLATILE. because he is still being defined by his grief] #Anonymous

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notte-la-lagna​:

            “Your evolution was first a distinct interest to me, as were your general person, your presence; how one could be so abundant yet entirely foreign to that abundance stirred concern as much as fascination. Then I grew fond over you in my eager, and mused over how a great and many situational missteps in cultivation were too risky to dismiss. You, as a person, as an individual… and the balancing of that person and this immense power that I wanted to handle precisely and cautiously. Though we both spoke in lying tones more often than we perhaps should have… I found it easier to explain things away back then. Perhaps it were easier on us both, for all we were lead to believe, or worried ourselves into believing, back when.” A terrible belief that would stir him to a flinch, would persuade him away - returning to morose thoughts if not for his God’s will to keep him securely so anchored. Weightily against him, yes, even dreamily so. Having a subtle twist, a light press into those hands that work something gentle into the paths of his ribs. The allowance of this small act of creation numbers too many pleasures to count. The mind reels; happily remade from dour thoughts and feelings into something else. Into smiling against him, into breathing his scent like a beloved perfume. Tasting his skin like a man desperate from fasting.

            “It has not ceased for me…-” a purring all his own is inevitable, then, when his God writes rapture with his own voice, inscribes it with his own hands as he pulls him so much closer. Claiming ownership that does not belong to him in flesh, however much it may feel to the contrary; yes, here to lay besides his God within his coffin delights Mathias to heights otherwise foreign to him. A strange discovery itself. A stranger hunger being nurtured that yes, bedeviled over and over into a stark state of emptiness, here is where revitalization breathes new and maddening in every vein, every pulse and every coherent thought. “I think of your every secret, your every hidden thing from me-”              Act precedes his rational thought, however. Biting into the neck formerly so gently-loved, only tenderly kissed. The overwhelming sense of welcoming acceptances that seduced silent-needs now rouse him jarringly aware: to bite as if to drink from one of tremendous caliber places a learned burden of guilt upon the lesser. Though he clutches Carvel as one would a Sire, grasping the lower nape of his neck to beg that he bend, move, to allow him in – the following (drowned) sounds of quivering whimpers reaches his ears before the panicked shuddering of his own heartbeat ever could. A horrific realization to him, how one act of need yet spirals him to this very day. Aches he once swore were imagined dreams reanimate in the tearing of fabric, the touch of his hands despairing. The fact remaining that he still cannot drink. Still cries within tones disembodied.

            ’I want your approval; I want after your approval of me, I want to drink the blood of who owns me, my God,’

“My abundance was never obvious to me for I was one that always felt he was empty, or that he might as well be for everything around him. A grave, a crypt, filled with mourning never meant for him, altars overflowing with sacrificial gold that was not even his. I woke in this body not even knowing my own name, let alone what abundance was mine and what was created by the person who owned it before me. It...always was like that. I grew abundant in curses, very little else. It is not until the truth was carved out on the surface of my life that I understood myself. It was not until I embraced it that I became, truly, abundant...until I embraced you, and for a while, I felt whole even before I truly was. As frightening as it was to say it. We were liars to one another, but liars with a cause.” Though the thought of ever having been a liar in the face of something worshipped so dearly becomes a sour wound on the surface of his heart to remember it now; there is shame in ever having cowered from Mathias once upon an uglier time, shame in having lashed and bitten and bared his fangs with all the aching of a wild animal. He wonders if that shame is a similar shade in Mathias as the two of them brush and tangle together in the silent warmth of the coffin’s velvet walls, as Mathias breathes him in and Carvel soaks in the peaceful heat of his skin. His hands fan their way round, finding their way along the peaks and wings of his shoulders that fit in the curves of his palm’s just right. A throaty purr interrupts the moment’s quiet, confusion tilting the sound as it slips between the Lord’s open lips.

“Nothing of me is a secret to you anymore, Mathias. I have no part of myself that I would keep from you. You are cherished beyond secrecy now. You know that, don’t you?” His nails carry themselves along the slope of Mathias’ spine, impossibly gentle, phantom-soft and flowing easy into the eventual slide of the Lord’s palms as they slip from spine to hip to the back of the other man’s legs as he yanks higher, pulls him tighter upon himself with a soft, sleep-sweet sigh as the Lord’s dark head swings back on its rest. Even before those teeth have found their way in. Even before pain bursts into pleasure profound enough to make Carvel seize with that moment of bright, brilliant ache. So close--Carvel’s lashes flutter over his wine-dark eyes much before he cares to compose himself (if indeed he ever cared to at all); so close, but Mathias hesitates as Carvel always fears that he will. At least today, it is a hesitance that he can soothe away.

“Then drink. Drink me into stupor and sleep if you need to. I have waited after the chance to heal you like this for so long--my blessing has always been within the palm of your hand.” His head bends back, the curve of his throat leaning up against the grip of those fangs holding him captive, God as prey as he writhes with willing, with a hunger all his own between the other man’s jaws. The hands once clasped about the backs of Mathias’ thighs soar high once more, combing the dark of Mathias’ hair and pressing the back of his head to deepen him into their embrace.  “Drink. And slough away the remains of all that has dirtied you before me. Drink until you are full and your scars no longer burn. Drink as God is made your chalice; never to empty, but always to comfort.”

#nottelalagna #[ ♰ :: IV ; A Melody of Reformation ] #[ENJOY SOME CHOMP FROM UR GOD BOYFRIEND MATHIAS LMAO HES ALL YOURS] #[and very relieved he finally decided to take a drink at that]

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[Real talk, everyone knows they can like...talk to me in the IMs if they just want to discuss this manhwa with me right lmao I’m not THAT unapproachable guys, c’mon. I’ve noticed lately I’m getting a mass influx of anonymous asks just basically repeating what happens in Vampire Library. I know what happens. I just don’t have a lot to say about everything in it. So like, if you just want to chat about it casually or REALLY want to get my thoughts on something that happened...you can just IM me? I don’t really want to keep bloating the dash with just basically paraphrasing the entire story piece by piece every time someone finds out a new bit of information because I sometimes get tens of these anons at a time week to week lmao so it’s not feasible for me to answer them all anyway, which is why I only answer a fraction of them; specifically when the topic is one I want to add some personal insight or opinions to. Which is...not many of them. Not every little detail in the story is something I have anything to really comment about except yeah, that happened, or otherwise something I need to clairfy (as with the confusion about Mano and Carvel’s relationship. I understand why that needs spelling out more clearly.)

That said, I appreciate the interest and I also appreciate anons inquiring about my specific portrayal or stuff that isn’t more or less common knowledge to people who have read the manhwa, raw or not. I do enjoy my character building anons a great deal. I always make an effort to answer those.

I do invite casual discussion though, and if you just want to discuss the canon itself, you can just talk to me directly. Seriously, I promise I don’t bite lmao.]

#OOC. #[i kinda dont know how to answer when people send me stuff like x did this to x like yeah...i know.......] #[SO IM SORRY IF I HAVENT ANSWERED ANYONES ANON OUT THERE BUT TBH ITS PROBABLY BC I HAD NOTHING TO SAY] #[NOT ENOUGH TO BROADCAST IT TO HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE AT ANY RATE LMAO] #[but if u just wanna have a non-analytical frank discussion about the goings on pls feel free to IM me LOL] #[BC THE ANONS ARE GETTING QUITE HIGH IN NUMBER RN]

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Carvel has some real rabid fans Eve’s sister murders her and then tries to make a move on Carvel.

That’s the price he has to pay for being so fucking hot he literally drives people insane and can’t go out in public without covering himself head to toe lest the masses all collectively lose their minds SUCKS TO SUCK CARVEL

#Anonymous #[carvel deserves only good things he is tortured relentlessly in this manhwa god bless him] #[it makes me so sad] #[CARVEL DID NOTHING WROOOOOONG] #[in case its not obvious no i dont think carvel deserved anything that happened to him it makes me deeply miserable] #[being his mun is a pleasure but also my ultimate pain for i ache for him every day OOP]

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"Do... would you like me to eat your rabid fans?"

“Hmm...no, bien-aimé. They would spoil your fine taste, and besides, I wouldn’t have you insulting your palate with these witless creatures. I’d like to plead it is my compassion for order and peace that compels me to beg your sympathy but...” A sneer, fingers pinching the colour of the other man’s cheek. “I’m well past my time of lying to you. You’ll just have to eat me instead, won’t you? That by far will comfort me more...”

#[GAY!!! GAY LITTLE FRUITY MAN!!!] #[says the gay little fruity woman] #[ASJDKF THANK U HUBBY WE APPRECIATE IT] #notte-la-lagna

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MR SIR, MIR SIR... ergh tell us, how do you do it? How do you handle all of your fame and people flocking towards you? Obviously you need yer beauty sleep lmao

“I don’t think it is my responsibility to manage the many individuals that flock to me in the first place. It’s hardly my fault if my appearance is enough to make them take leave of their senses. But being discerning makes their gawking and wittering easier to contend with. I answer intriguing inquiries, I dismiss vapid ones. Honestly, one cannot sleep even a moment around here anymore with the number of people banging my door or bloating our postbox, demanding answers for things that do not even concern them...”

#[carvel: bitter that my other muses are having intelligent discussions] #[me: laughing bc ofc my oldest muse gets to have all the fun] #[CARVEL UR LIKE FOURTH ELDEST AMONG MY BIG BADS sorry kiddo] #[ur elder blood brothers just have more to say] #[u have intelligent discussions with ur husband its okay] #Anonymous