seegodhatesme
.HUMANARUM ET DIVINARUM.
❖ indie sypha belnades ❖mutuals only
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"Are you a wizard because you've got me under your spell."
“..I am not a wizard, nor have I cursed you. Are you making some sort of accusation based on my robes?”
Not that Sypha was about to correct this woman and tell her she was actually a witch.
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godshitsinmydinner:
“Not drunk–!” The words were quick as he was shaken from his sleep, followed by a groan as he dragged his hands down his face. He couldn’t have been comfortable as he was, half in the chair and half on the floor, but honestly he could not remember falling asleep. He sure hoped it wasn’t from being drunk…
“What’re we discussing now…?”
Sypha put a hand on her hip, cocking her head as she watched Trevor struggle to collect himself. He wasn’t nearly as out of it as he tended to be when someone stirred him from his usual hangover-induced slumber - and she figured he was being truthful enough.
“I honestly do not even know where to start,” Sypha sighed, giving a dismissive flick of her hand as she settled on the chair next to the spot where Trevor was half-seated. “But I think we might need to double down on our vampire fighting strategies if we are to make it out of the next year alive.”
She spread her hands out, gesturing to his tired form. “I wanted to put you at the forefront of that. If anyone knows how to train us to fight vampires specifically, it would be you. As much as it may be a bad idea, I was wondering if you could teach us a few things before Carmilla comes knocking down our front door.”
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rosetouchedhaze:
Rosamund looked surprised at the question. “How did you know… yes, I do. Deer, elk, rabbits mostly. I try to save the meat, in case anyone comes by…” Now she was leading this woman down the path from her cabin - it was a singular road that split some way down, and from there she’d have to go by her guest’s destination.
“I’ve… never heard of a vampire before.” And she hadn’t; even as a child in her family’s home, the word had never been breathed. But she thought back to her mother and father, whispering with concerned looks at the dinner table as she drank from deer steak after failing to take to bread and milk.
“…how long… since my tenth year, I believe. One of the household threw salt at me, I remember… and water that burned.” She looked at the hand holding the lantern, flecked with tiny scars. “My family visits me on my birthday… they send me books to read and letters about home. And flowers,” she smiled and laughed a bit, “though I’m very poor at keeping them. The marigolds and forget-me-nots are my favorite.”
It was only then she let herself consider the offer to actually meet other vampires.
“It has been… a long time since I’ve left these woods. I would certainly like to, if it is not too far away…”
“I do not think it is too far, but then again, it seems I did lose track of time coming here..”
Though, Sypha suspected Rosamund would be able to get her out of the forest much quicker than she’d entered. If this truly was the domain of fae, space and time were much more negligible.
“It seems you have been living under a rock, of sorts. I cannot assume anything about your family, but most people know what a vampire is. They are everywhere in Wallachia - they are practically the second biggest population! They are not always quite so.. welcoming, as you are, though.”
Sypha plucked a berry from her basket, popping it into her mouth. She chewed, thoughtfully. How much was she willing to disclose to Rosamund? She didn’t want to make her feel like any more of a monster than she surely already thought she was. But, she deserved to know the truth of the outside world.
“My friends are a bit of an exception, but most vampires see humans as livestock and servants. It is generally accepted to be the natural order of the food chain, which is why humans and vampires tend to not get along. There is a lot of fighting in the world outside your forest, you know. I understand why you would not want to leave for long, this place is so cute.. !”
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@zombieanimalwhisperer
6. Muse A discovers Muse B’s true identity
For better or worse, the Speakers had a peculiar habit of adopting wayward stragglers in need.
Sypha hadn’t quite figured out which category Hector fell into yet.
It’d been a handful of months since Sypha’s grandfather had found him in that roadside ditch on the rural back-roads into town, and they knew little more about the man now than they did when they’d first been nursing his skeletal form back to life.
Though the Speakers treated their guest with as much warmth and camaraderie as they could muster as impoverished nomads, Hector often regarded them with fear, at best - and suspicion, at worst. It didn’t take a scholar to add up all the signs of trauma, physical and mental.
Evidently, he’d been enslaved by vampires. That much was easy enough to puzzle out. It explained why he’d flinch away from sudden movements, why he was so secretive about his past, and why he’d been on the verge of death after seemingly losing the majority of his blood.
It should have been an open and shut case. Vampire attacks were a dime a dozen in this part of Wallachia.
The only part that concerned her was the motivation - the reason why they’d bothered to keep him alive for so long to begin with. Her grandfather had scolded her for her distrust of the man, but it was always difficult for Sypha to keep herself from sticking her nose into the business of others.
Or, at least, it had been.
Watching Hector as he was now - expression twisted in sadness and agony as the squirrel Sypha was certain had been trampled by a passing carriage hours earlier dragged itself across the ground face-first, the creature’s little limbs jutting out at odd and impossible angles as it struggled to crawl towards its benefactor with no apparent sign of pain -- he didn’t seem quite so threatening anymore.
The forgemaster startled as Sypha’s hand landed on his shoulder, whipping his head around to stare at her with an indescribable horror - reflecting the gaze of a fearful child who knew how utterly powerless he was in their care, only waiting for a furious guardian to take a switch to his hands at any moment.
Instead, Sypha lowered herself beside him in a crouch. She gently scooped the squirrel into her hands, letting it settle peacefully into the crux of her robes as her thumb rubbed back and forth against the small space between the creature’s eyes. It let out a full-body sigh of contentment as it leaned into the warmth of her body, eyelids fluttering shut.
“You cannot save everything, Hector,” Sypha murmured, her gaze still fixed to the tiny being curled up in her hands.
“Sometimes, there is less suffering if you are able to let them go. You are kind to care. But this world is full of great pain and sorrow. Often, it is merely a kindness to let a creature who has endured such agony to leave it.”
Silence stretched out between them. The only sound was that of the wind blowing through the trees, carrying bushels of dead leaves along with it. Where Sypha had instinctively expected the soft, strained breaths of the squirrel as it teetered on the edge of death - there was nothing.
Hector’s voice was quiet, when he finally spoke.
“Yes, I - I suppose you are right, Sypha.”
A trembling hand raised, carefully resting on the delicate, mangled body of the creature shielded between the two of them.
“Sometimes, it is..” He swallowed, dryly. “It is for the best, isn’t it?”
A flash of light emanated from his palm - and the squirrel went limp in Sypha’s arms, finally at peace once more.
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@godshitsinmydinner
“..Trevor.”
Sypha gently prodded at the back of his head with two fingers. “I hope you are not passed out drunk again, because there is something I wish to discuss with you.”
Aside from the fact that he needed to stop drinking so much. Sypha was starting to worry that one day she’d go to shake him awake and he just wouldn’t stir. Funny as it had been to poke fun at him in the beginning, living with Trevor as long as they had meant that Alucard and Sypha had begun to notice the way Trevor tended to use drink to self-medicine, well.. everything.
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rosetouchedhaze:
The owl immediately flew back to Rosamund’s shoulder, and it was big enough that she almost stumbled at the impact. Still, she laughed a bit as the bird nuzzled her cheek, but quieted as her guest spoke. She smiled at the stranger’s face at last - she was quite pretty! Her hair reminded Rosamund of the orange flowers she saw in spring.
Then came that question, and this time her smile was a bit sad.
“Truly I could not tell you,” she said, voice soft, “though I know my parents were human, just as I now know you are.” She gestured to the chair. “Iron - we’re close to fairy territory.”
She had taken an open lantern to carry as well as the basket, and lit it as she spoke. “I only know what my parents have told me; that I was born with pink skin like yours, and light hair and eyes like my mother, but that something… happened to me on my christening. I changed. I could not eat as a person could, and I grew weak in the sunlight. They feared for my safety, so they brought me here.” She closed the lantern and hung her apron on the door’s hook, before pulling a large key from a ring on her waist to lock it.
“I do not have any magic myself, but this forest does.” She lifted the lantern again, and gestured towards the gate. “So long as I do not take too much, and leave everything as I find it, I am… allowed to stay, I suppose.”
Rosamund stopped after a moment’s quiet, and looked quite embarrassed. “Forgive me, I did not mean to ramble… it has been a long time since I have seen another person. Normally I speak to the owl. And a crow, but she is not here. What is your name?”
Fairies? Sypha’s head perked up. She had never met fairies before - she’d only heard of them in tales. Was this entire domain crafted by fairies looking to trap stray travelers, or had Sypha blindly stepped into a sort of fairy ring at some point? The possibilities were endless.
Part of her wanted to stay a little longer, just to investigate further. But, the other part of her reminded her that fairies were notoriously dangerous to toy with.
She pushed down the endless questions she wanted to ask, listening intently to Rosamund’s story instead, and - oh, this poor thing.
If she was telling the truth and not putting on an elaborate show to sink her teeth into Sypha’s neck, she probably had no idea why she’d been locked away in the middle of the woods by her family. Perhaps they had cared for the woman’s safety, but in Sypha’s experience it was more likely that they cared for their own safety.
“No, it is perfectly fine.” Sypha winked, offering her a smile. “I am often told I am guilty of rambling myself. Now, I do not mean to pry any more than I have, but I assume you drink blood, don’t you?“
She didn’t wait for a response, turning on her heel to stalk back towards the gate, talking as she went. It was just natural for her to pace whenever she spoke.
“I would have to double check, but my first impression is that you are a run of the mill vampire.” Piercing eyes, grey skin, a penchant for meat. Check, check, check. “That does not mean you are not special, but I have heard of it before. In fact, I am quite close friends with several vampires. I could introduce you, if you like?”
She paused, giving a moment’s thought.
“How long have you been in this forest? Is it not lonely here?”
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rosetouchedhaze:
“Are you?” Those red eyes widened in interest, though there was also a flicker of hesitation; magic-bearers often meant fae would be drawn close, so she answered a touch quieter than before.
“A little of both,” she answered truthfully, for it seemed that even when the forest was quiet she had issue with the gift given her by her parents on her fifteenth birthday, a shimmering dial that couldn’t seem to find north no matter how she tried - it always led her back to her cabin.
Rosamund glanced at the makeshift pouch and nodded at the request, smiling. “Of course, let me get one for you.” She opened the gate all the way. “Why don’t you take a seat? You must have been walking quite some time, to get so close to the forest’s heart.” She left the door open as she reached it, taking her book off the chair and exchanging it for the owl in an almost fluid motion. The large bird flew onto the stem of a wall-mounted lantern, watching Sypha with intent.
Inside, Rosamund listened carefully as she pulled a lined basket from the nearest shelf. The chair was wrung iron, and would give any secret fairy away immediately from a yelp of pain.
Satisfied after a minute’s silence, she emerged with the basket. “Did you need anything to eat? I’ve already dined, but there is deer flank still ready for the stove, if you would like.” Truly, she had kept it to drink in the morning, but there would be more deer tomorrow.
At least the woman was honest. Someone hoping to ensnare her in their magical labyrinth would probably not be quite so blunt.
Sypha was beginning to have a better idea of how she’d wound up here - and how Trevor and Alucard never managed to find out about the mysterious little cabin situated in the middle of the woods. She only hoped that this stranger remained true to her word - otherwise, she was beginning to worry that she might have a difficult time getting back out.
“Thank you.” She bowed, best she could while still balancing all of her berries inside the divot of her cloak. “You are very kind to be offering these things to a foolish lost woman you do not even know.”
Sypha settled in the chair as it was offered, staring back at the owl as she shifted uncomfortably on the iron seating. They had one at home in their attic, courtesy of the friendly neighborhood forge master, but it was tragically undead. This one looked much more fleshy and alive, and was somehow creepier because of it.
She gave the creature a little wave as she waited for the feathered beast’s master to return.
At the sound of the other woman’s voice, Sypha turned her chin up to meet her gaze - and found her baggy hood in the way, once more. With a sigh, she tugged it back, finally revealing her full face.
It wasn’t exactly worth trying to hide anything when the stranger already knew most of the things the cloak was supposed to hide.
“No, I ate before I left, and I have been snacking on berries along the way. But thank you very much for your offer.” She took the basket graciously, dumping her little stash of berries into it - and smiled up at the other woman.
“Now, this may come off a bit insensitive, but I do wonder: what are you?”
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rosetouchedhaze:
Oh, it had been so long since Rosamund had seen another person. She watched the woman raise her hand and had to stop herself from running over to take it in greeting. Instead she set her book down on the little chair and offered a polite smile, walking to the limits of the modest fence that bordered her plot of land.
“I do have a compass,” she said, “but these woods have a way of making them unhelpful. I can lead you back to the walking road, if you like.” She finally opened the gate, wrought metal that had long lost its paint, and left it open for the stranger.
On her shoulder, the owl - a large brown animal with curious eyes - ruffled its feathers, staring intently at Sypha. Of course, staring was all it could really do.
“From which way did you come?” She asked, hoping she might see a bit of the stranger’s face this close. How long since she had looked at anything but a portrait? “I have lived in these woods most of my life - they have long stopped being strange to me.” The owl hooted, almost in agreement.
Sypha tilted her head up to glance at the woman in surprise, flashing a small fraction of her chin and her lips beneath her hood - before that expression morphed into a half-cocked smile.
The stranger was quite charming - Sypha would give her that. But she’d learned not to trust so easily.
The strange cabin in the middle of nowhere, the woman’s odd animal companion, and her unusually pale complexion that was interrupted only by bright red eyes. It all added up, pieces of a puzzle that when completed practically screamed ‘not human.’
“When you say that the woods have a penchant for making compasses unhelpful, do you mean in a magnet way or in a magic way?” She wiggled her fingers for emphasis. “They are very different. I feel it is important to distinguish them. I am a magician, after all.”
Hopefully if the pretty and dangerous-looking stranger was interested in eating her, that would give her a moment of hesitation. It was always the nicest flowers that had the biggest thorns - or, usually, at least. Alucard was fairly pretty, but much too snarky to keep his mouth shut.
She glanced down at the bundle of berries she still had folded up into her cloak. “And I hate to be a bother, but do you maybe have a basket I could borrow?”
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Sypha had never meant to wander so far from the castle.
She’d only meant to find some of those berries in the forest that Alucard kept talking about foraging. She’d thought she’d followed his directions, but - well. Evidently, she’d gotten herself quite turned around. At least, so she thought, until she caught glimpse of a trail of blackberry bushes that lead forward into parts of the woods she’d never even explored before.
She followed the road, plucking and depositing the little fruits in a pouch she made of the loose fabric in her cloak as she went. Assuming she could find her way back before the sun rose, she would be able to make some rather nice jam.
It wasn’t until a cabin rose out from over the horizon just beyond a hill, lanterns gleaming in the dark sky - that Sypha realized she truly had no idea where she was anymore.
Neither Alucard nor Trevor had ever made mention of a cabin in the nearby woods. She felt an uncomfortable twist in her gut, and pulled up her hood to hide her face before approaching the lone figure on the porch.
At the stranger’s friendly welcome, Sypha slowly raised a hand in a lukewarm greeting of her own.
“Ah. I am beginning to think I may be, yes. Do you perhaps have a.. compass, of sorts? I only need a cardinal direction to find my way back. In fact, I am so far out that I did not even realize there was anyone out here.”
@deci-muses liked for a starter!
The woods had a way of guiding people where they needed to be - unfortunately, that rarely meant where they wanted to be. Such was the case tonight - long, winding roads past ponds with strange trinkets tossed in and clean water, blackberry brambles with fruit that stained the fingers and lingered on the mouth, and now this - a cozy little cabin nobody had mentioned, lanterns just lit for the night.
Rosamund was sitting on her porch, reading a book her parents had sent her, when the owl on her shoulder gave a hoot of greeting. She looked up, surprised for a moment, before standing.
“Hullo there,” she said as the stranger got closer, “are you lost?”
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Fanfic trope starters
send me a “(ʘ‿ʘ) “ and I will randomly generate a number between 1-40 and use the corresponding fanfic trope to write a starter
(all sfw, all platonic unless stated otherwise)
Keep reading
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unleashedcerberus:
“There are times I wonder the same.” Was he serious? Perhaps. Perhaps not. He couldn’t say he was entirely sure himself. Either way it made for some amusing material to poke fun at. Perhaps it was that easy camaraderie that made it seem as if they were all involved somehow with each other.
“It would not surprise me in the slightest if it were the truth.” Vincent paused, blinked and then seemed to recall her other question. “Grimoire was my sire.” His usual smile remained on his lips. “That wasn’t his original name, most likely, but it was the only one I knew him by.”
An eyebrow rose. “I believe I already told you he was a scholar. You would have liked him, I think.”
Sypha couldn’t help a boisterous laugh at that, putting a hand on Vincent’s shoulder to steady herself as she covered her mouth. It didn’t matter whether or not he was joking; Vincent’s painfully serious nature made whatever ridiculous thing he said absolutely delightful.
“You should tell that to Trevor. I would love to see the look on his face when he hears you say that. They are constantly going for the other’s throat and bickering ceaselessly in public, it is almost sweet.”
She gave a pause. “Of course, you tell Alucard that and he just brushes you off like it is a silly joke - it is funny how differently they react when they are both equally embarrassed about you pointing out how much they care for each other.”
Sypha huffed. “Stubborn. At least you are not that way - it is a breath of fresh air to have someone in the castle who does not try to deflect everything with sarcasm.”
Not that Vincent was particularly forward with his feelings, either, but -- Sypha’s standards for open communication had dropped significantly since she left the Speakers.
“Oh, yes! I think you did tell me a bit about your sire. I remember, now. Interesting choice for a name.”
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unleashedcerberus:
“Just what I live for,” Vincent sighed. He had a sense of humor; it just tended to be hard to tell when he was joking until you had gotten to know him. “The admiration of women.”
If the smile on his lips was any indication, he was in a good enough mood to be visibly amused and willing to play around. “Up until now I had to share yours with the other two.”
If Charity was listening in, he was well aware that his phrasing wasn’t disabusing her notion of their living arrangements. Quite frankly he didn’t care.
Sypha arched a brow, noting that he hadn’t responded to her implicit question - and choosing not to pry any further.
She pressed a hand to the side of her face and closed her eyes, heaving a dramatic sigh. “Please, Vincent - you don’t know how difficult it can be to distribute my attention equally among all of the men living here. And now we have another! I know that I am the center of your very lives of which you revolve around, but I cannot always keep up.”
A smirk crossed her lips, one eye peering open at him.
“..Actually, I think she may be under the impression that we are less of a harem and more of one of those free-spirited heathen communes with the big web of relationships. I am pretty sure she thinks that Trevor and Alucard are sleeping together too.”
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unleashedcerberus:
“I haven’t had much interaction with the Order myself.” Vincent admitted. He thought he remembered a vague mention of it years ago but it clearly hadn’t been a big enough priority for him to actually remember any details. Then again his attitude towards any organized religion had soured in recent years.
“Grimoire and I pretty much kept to ourselves.” One of his small sardonic smiles appeared. “Shocking, I know.”
Letting out a breath, he folded his arms. “I think I would be better off keeping my distance until he manages to regain his strength. He probably has had enough of vampires, even those that don’t feel the need to inflict pain and despair on the world around them.” A pause. “And I imagine you and he would have more to talk about.”
“Grimoire?” Sypha quirked her head over her shoulder to look at Vincent. “I do not think you have told me about a ‘Grimoire’ yet.”
She shrugged. “You are probably right about the forge master, though. I will have to see how he feels about vampires. Here is to hoping that he does not hold a grudge. I do not want to be the one to have to put him down if he tries anything. I can already tell that Charity will be upset if I do, and I quite like her. Even if she thinks we are all living in a sex cult.”
She paused. “Oh, she told me that she thinks you are cute, but that she is probably not your type. I do not know if you wanted to know that information, but there it is.”
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“Charity has been given the privilege of a guest room for the time being. I do not think she is so eager to return to her church - it seems she is worried about backlash from Carmilla. Though I assume it will have to happen at some point, seeing as she is supposedly their saint. Personally, I am still trying to figure that one out, but a vampire church is already strange enough to begin with, so why not?”
Sypha waved a hand.
“I think our forge master friend is finally coming to, though I have not checked on him yet. Considering the way he responded to me when he was half-conscious as Charity and I were dragging his limp body in, I do not think he will be so happy to see me. I think he is pretty clear on the fact that we killed Dracula. But, maybe he will be happier to see me than Alucard or Trevor. You could try speaking to him, if you wish.”
@seegodhatesme
“How are our guests?” He figured he’d be better off asking Sypha as she had started to play hostess first.
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unleashedcerberus:
“Apologies for stealing him away from you.”
“Oh no, it is perfectly fine - how could I ever hope to compete? In fact, I can already hear the bells. When is the wedding? I would love to officiate. I am certain Alucard cannot wait to see our sweet Treffie off down the aisle.”
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“Ah, yes.. young love.”
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