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yhwhsdaughter · 1 year

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The Missing Bride (I-III)

[Fem. Reader]

Characters: Dracula, Abraham Van Helsing, Trevor Belmont, Sypha Belnades, Adrian Tepes, Arthur Holmwood, Dr. John Seward, Quincey Morris, Hector, Isaac

Content: Vampirism, Sexual Themes, Queer Relationships, Angst, Violence, Unhealthy Dynamics

Note: These characters don’t belong to me, except for Faustia. Some are meant to replace others: Alucard as Lucy Westenra, Trevor and Sypha as Jonathan and Mina Harker. Dracula is not the same one from Castlevania.

There’ll be historical inaccuracies and such, so just humor me for the sake of the plot. If there’s anything I missed, let me know kindly. Alucard will be referred to as Adrian.

PART ONE

It was a stroke of luck, divine intervention, and the cunning of Dr. Abraham Van Helsing that resulted in the injuring of Dracula and death of his third bride.

“Master!”

His second bride ran to him, hands stained red as she pressed on the wound. The Vampire King moaned in pain. A commanding voice broke through, “[Name]! Get him inside!!” and it belonged to Dracula’s first consort, Faustia. She was vicious in her attacks, hissing, growling, and slashing at the vampire Hunter with her nails, which had grown excessively.

“Van Helsing!!!”

If hatred alone could kill someone, he would’ve fallen dead in seconds. At the sound of his name, [Name] turned, meeting the gaze of the man whose blue eyes held oceans of knowledge. Both of them had betrayed each other; the trust that once connected them had been fractured and it would never heal entirely.

Placing her husband in the safety of his coffin, [Name] looked at him with tender eyes. It reminded Dracula why he fell for her. Gripping the back of her neck, he brought it closer to his mouth, sinking his fangs ever so gently and taking until he was satisfied. She let him, releasing a silent cry. “My dear bride..” he whispered and without sparing a moment, kissed her, [Name]’s blood still on his lips. Crimson filled their mouths, staining their skin with the act. “We will protect you.” Dracula mirrored her smile, pleased that she worried for him, “I’m fortunate to have such a devoted wife.”

When Faustia returned, she had a displeased expression. “Is he dead?” Upon listening to [Name]’s query which sounded like mild concern, the raven haired beauty snarled, “That damned man, I’ll get him!” She was livid. Her master had been grievously injured and they’d lost a sister. It would be fruitless to cast all of the blame on the precious second bride, but she had played a part in this. And so, Faustia’s fist made contact with her cheek, blasting the poor [Name] to the foot of the steps. “You befriended a Hunter!”

The latter hung her head in shame, face covered by a curtain of hair. Dracula opened his pupils, hearing the commotion, he made a slow gesture with his hand, reprimanding his wives as if they were children, despite both of them being older than three hundred years. “Don’t fight my dear Faustia, be gentle to our [Name].” Reminded of their promise, the female vampire sighed heavily, cursing in her native tongue.

“You shall find me a new bride whilst I rest.” Both women could not hide their surprise, [Name] choosing to ask, confused, wondering if he was in mourning as they were, “So soon, Master?” Once again, Faustia hissed warningly, “Do not question him!” Because of her seniority and power, the younger vampire bent her will, nodding in obedience.

Dracula could not walk in the sun, amongst the living. He was a creature of darkness and was thus, cursed to remain forever in the shadows. However, his brides could roam the earth freely, though they were still bound to him, as long as his blood ran in their veins.

After sealing Dracula in his crypt, the two wives left the castle and scoured the lands. Throughout the years they encountered many prospect-able individuals, but none worthy to receive immortality. “This is fruitless..” How easy if they could just pluck anyone to be theirs, but their master would not be pleased. “We mustn’t give up.” Their hearts were shattered by the loss of one of their own, but they had to continue their endless search. “Perhaps we should travel the New World.”

And so they did. Boarding the Demeter, the two vampires commenced yet another journey to a place they’d never set foot on, far away from home. Once in the privacy of their shared room, Faustia embraced the younger woman, pulling back to press her palm against the cheek that she’d hit—though it’d been a while since, the burdening guilt never dissipated. She felt it was needed to apologize, “[Name], will you forgive me for being so cruel towards you?” Albeit Faustia offered no explanation for her actions, the former merely smiled, having forgotten about that already; she had learned to not dwell on the past. Instead, [Name] leaned into the caress, muttering, “I will always forgive you.”

They stood there, still as statues, listening as the waves rocked the ship, Eventually it was [Name] who broke the silence, “Faustia?” The latter made a small noise of acknowledgment, too content to speak. “What’s the arrangement that you and Master have?” It was something they kept secret, and although not prone to jealousy, she felt hurt by it. Whenever she attempted to bring the matter out, they would silence her with nights of passion. By the time they finished, her brain would be fuddled with love.

Unwilling to answer, Faustia groaned internally, craning her head, staring at the doe eyes of [Name]. Their lips met quickly, “Don’t worry darling.” In truth, neither wanted her to recall the horrible events that caused her nightmares for decades. Naivety led the young bride to a dark path. When she was human, despite the warnings of those around her, [Name] fell for the strange and mysterious Lord that had set his gaze on her. Ignorant to his real nature, she was turned.

Most would be scared, but instead of hysterics, despite the blood that ran down her neck she was swift to absolve her creator of guilt, which almost made Dracula regret damning such a kind soul. Without fully understanding the consequences of her actions, [Name] continued visiting her family and village, foolishly believing they would accept her. Rather, the humans set fire to her home, trapping her family inside for being in communion with devils. Her wails were dreadful, chilling those who heard it to the bone. She went mad, and could only be consoled by her lovers. As retribution, they slaughtered everyone. Not a single person made it out alive. Rivers ran red and the smell of ash permeated the land which would remain inhabitable for centuries, cursed.

Henceforth, the monsters that loved her dearly vowed to protect [Name]’s fragile spirit, lest they lose her permanently. Though their ways resulted in excessive sheltering, directing her with a heavy hand. Now in the bare arms of Faustia, [Name] slept soundlessly, a calmness within her that brought the tiniest of smiles out of the cold beauty.

“So, what is your reason for travel?” He smelled terribly, his scent obscured by an obscene amount of perfume. [Name] allowed a sickly sweet smile to grace her lips, though not directed at him. Faustia looked unamused, not bothering to hide her distaste, “You know I hate feeding on men.” “What?” Both conversed as if he wasn’t there, “Yes, but he’s plump, and I’m famished!”

“Fine.” As they nearly crushed the man with their inhuman strength, the eldest scoffed, “Next time, I’m picking our meal and it’ll be more pleasant than this.” [Name] wasn’t listening, her mouth buried in the man’s carotid.

PART TWO

Adrian Tepes felt himself falling into a wellness of never ending sorrow and solitude. His affliction began with the death of his parents, each within a year. His mother Lisa perished in a fire after trying to help people escape a burning chapel, and his father could not handle the pain of losing the one whom he loved most. His heart broke completely.

Even though Adrian was at his worst, he still urged his dear friends to marry. Trevor had sustained a life threatening injury on a hunting mission; not wanting history to repeat itself, Adrian bid farewell to Sypha, sending her off to Wallachia while he remained in England. Still, the loss he felt was too great, he was empty inside, grieving day and night. The only consolation was the brief companionship of three men he’d met, all different yet similar in the affection they shared for him. Despite Adrian’s rejection to their proposals, they remained by his side.

With a mournful sigh, he opened the morning newspaper, the news of an incident at the docks peaking his interest. The nature of it brutal, enough to garner the attention of the Hunter society; he was sure Dr. Van Helsing or one the members would inspect the case, if there was anything or anyone left.

There was. To be exact, two individuals survived the massacre, though they were no longer entirely human. Initially part of the crew, Isaac and Hector were narrowly spared; one of them to navigate the waters and the other, because they possessed an intellect beyond the regular person. “Assist us, and we will grant you anything you may desire.” Whether it was greed, mere survival, or actual desire, both men accepted the terms and conditions, serving them temporarily as familiars. “What is it that you want?” questioned Isaac, not easily intimidated as he stared them in the eye. His boldness appealed to the vampires, “We’re searching for our bride.”

“Oh?”

Arrangements were made for them to stay to stay in Carfax—courtesy of falsified documents that Hector had forged—an aged estate, though it reminded the women of Castle Dracula so they actually saw no issue with their accommodations. “We’ll require you to be our eyes and ears. Understood?”

“Perfectly, My Lady.”

Dressed in the latest fashion, the immortal pair explored the bustling streets of London. “Do you think Master will allows us to visit after we find our bride?” [Name] was dazzled, eyes bright at the marvels of modern time. Faustia stated down at her arm, and the secure grip her lover had on it, “Perhaps. Though I can’t say I would be ecstatic.” She sneered, not overly fond of the uncleanliness and lecherous glances she was receiving.

Adrian tended to visit a tavern almost daily, drowning his miseries in alcohol as well as his inheritance. What was the use of a great fortune if he had no one? He doesn’t quite remember getting into a fight nor being thrown out. Strewn unconsciously in an alley, men approached with the intentions to rob him down to the last coin. He felt them ruffle through his layers, searching for anything he might hide. Adrian Tepes was truly at his lowest.

“I’m hungry.”

“Don’t be so impatient.”

Screams resonated throughout the empty street in the direction the thief’s had headed; smart folk knew better than to check it out. Ignorance was bliss. Footsteps neared, stopping in front of Adrian. “Oh my.” The voice was soft, smooth. [Name] lowered herself, the skirts of her dress gracing the ground. She examined the golden curls of the collapsed man, whose strands shone like the sun. Humming, [Name] got closer, “What an angelic face~ Did God himself carve this?” she ran a curious finger over his jawline, tutting at the forming bruise on his cheekbone. Hearing such things about him caused Adrian to open his eyes ever so slightly. When he met those of [Name], they gleamed in awe. To him, she was beautiful beyond belief. “It seems you frightened him.” Another voice, this one callous. Adrian felt a heel kick his leg lightly, probably probing at his inebriated state. “He reeks.” He groaned in disagreement, causing Faustia to chuckle. “This man amuses me. Do you like him too, [Name]? Shall we take him?”

There was cause to be concerned when [Name] held Adrian into a sort of embrace, carrying him as if he was but a feather. However, he was touch starved to the point where he relished at her forward actions.

When he awoke, Adrian laid in someone’s bedroom, resting on a divan filled with the softest materials. Nearby he heard whimpers. Tracing his gaze towards said sounds, which made his trousers tighten, he came face with the sensual figures of the women who’d found him. Rouge bloomed in his cheeks at the sight; the smaller woman laid beneath a raven haired beauty, her dress pushed downwards, enough to expose her collarbones and the top of her breasts, “Aah!” There was a crunching sound, like biting an apple. [Name]’s cries turned into moans of pleasured pain as Faustia dipped her fangs into the curve of her shoulder blade. Adrian felt awkward, not knowing what to do. It felt rude to stay and watch but how would he leave? He didn’t know the way out, much less where he was. As if sensing his thoughts, [Name] stared at him through half-closed lids, possibly what one might call bedroom eyes, not that he’d experienced that before. She outstretched a hand, beckoning him. Adrian swallowed, slowly standing as if he entranced. Faustia sensed him approaching but she still focused her attention on her wife, bringing ecstasy to both their bodies.

When their hands made contact, Adrian nearly buckled, interlacing his fingers with [Name]’s. He was enamored, wishing to kiss her petal lips, drawn to the pinkness of her supple mouth. The young man became infatuated, even with the woman who’d kicked him, for she was also beautiful. When [Name] curled her fingers behind his head, bringing him down to a kiss, Adrian fell in love. Out of his lips escaped wanton noises, which she swallowed. These women were filling his heart with desire and love that he so badly craved. He felt wanted. “You’ve been so lonely, haven’t you?” Unable to speak, he nodded fervently, tears dropping down his flushed cheeks. “Shh..” [Name] comforted him, licking a stripe of his sorrow, tasting the saltiness. “We have been too. Join us, Adrian.” In that moment, he would have laid down his life if they asked, which they were, inadvertently. Shaking his head, Adrian knelt again for a kiss, stealing more from [Name]’s lips. He was nearly lost when Faustia pulled him back, not so gently, by his hair.

“You’re awfully familiar with my woman. Allow me to teach you manners, uneducated man.”

Adrian wanted to protest, though said comment died in his mind as he was shoved into the plush mattress. Faustia rested between his legs, making quick work of his trousers. [Name] settled herself behind Adrian, spreading her thighs so he could fit. His head rested on her soft breasts, nearly going insane with her intoxicating smell. It permeated his entire being, filled his brain with nothing but her.

His soul nearly launched out of his body when Faustia’s cold hand met his warm skin, running goosebumps down his form. A chocked noise got stuck in his throat, but was soothed by a tender kiss on the temple by the woman behind him. The vile vampire tugged expertly at his cock, her slender and nimble fingers making Adrian ascend to the highest heaven all the while [Name] murmured honeyed words in his ear. “I’m— please! Let me come..!” he begged.

Torturously, Faustia grinned like the devil she was, “I’m afraid we’ve run out of time.” Adrian’s eyes shot open, waking with a startle, taking a moment to realize he was in the comfort of his bedroom. Sunlight seeped through the door length windows, a gentle breeze moving the curtains. He looked around, desperately searching for the women who had caused him to soil his sheets. With a defeated sigh, he laid back down. “I will find you.” He vowed.

After trying to wipe the evidence of his lust clean, to spare himself the embarrassment that would follow when the maid came to collect his sheets, he eventually gave up, deciding to write the explicit and vivid dream in his notebook. Remembering it made his member harden, but this time he took care of it himself. Adrian felt conflicted; he’d never quite done things like these, having been a virtuous man but the seed of corruption sent racks of pleasure through his body that he no longer wanted to resist. Although he came, he yearned for the touch of the soft beauty that asked him to join them, whatever that meant. All he knew, was that he had to see them again. Soon. He would have to use the association’s resources to do this and while he was ashamed, he also didn’t regret it. After changing his clothes and answering Sypha’s letter (she’d expressed concern for his lack of response), Adrian left his manor hurriedly.

PART THREE

“You’re so wicked mistress.”

Isaac was amused by his employer’s antics. Faustia shared his grin, their sense of humor the same, but [Name] frowned, turning to the man beside her, “Hector, do you think me wicked?”

He was caught off guard, answering bashfully, “Hm? Oh, no, I-I don’t think you’re wicked.” Normally he was a person with great speech but [Name]’s gaze made him tongue tied, unlike Isaac who acted more casual with them. He was inexperienced with women. “You’re sweet. Would you like to become my lover?” Before he could respond, Faustia bared her fangs, though he wasn’t sure whom it was directed at, “You will do no such thing.” She was awfully possessive, not wanting to touch anyone who wasn’t her spouse. Partly, it had to do with [Name]’s terrible choices in men. The previous one was none other than Van Helsing—albeit when they first met he was yet to become a vampire hunter. Still, it skewed things between them as the older bride saw it as an act of unfaithfulness.

[Name] rolled her eyes, unhappy with Faustia’s controlling behavior. She was becoming impatient. “For the last time, Abraham was not my lover.” Neither refused to back down, “Then why do you call his name so easily?” It was clear she held affection for the man, even though he’d aged. Faustia knew that despite marrying and having a son, Doctor Abraham Van Helsing never stopping loving her bride. It was the reason why the two hadn’t managed to kill each other—a weakness that needed to be cut from the root.

“We’ve no business here but to collect our bride.” The conversation had turned serious. [Name] stood, her dress swaying with every move of her hips. It was rare for her to become upset, but when she did, there wasn’t a force in nature to calm her. “Hmph. I’m going out for a walk.” She left no room for argument, slamming the wooden door in her way.

Outside, the wind blew almost violently. Adrian wandered the streets aimlessly, searching. He’d constructed a plan, after investigating new arrivals to the city. When he heard the women speak, he knew they must’ve been foreigners, for their words were coated in an ancient accent. Using his connections, he managed to find a group of individuals who’d taken residence in the area. They were described by neighbors as odd but relatively harmless (or so it seemed). Adrian exhausted the place but no sign of the one he was looking for. His feet ached, and even with thoughts of resigning, his efforts were rewarded upon spotting a familiar woman. Initially he thought her a mirage, but then realized it was no hallucination, she was truly there in the flesh. “It’s you!” He screamed, causing her head to snap upwards, as she’d been distracted. Adrian was nearly ran over several times as he recklessly crossed the busy street. To the rest he looked like a madman, but [Name] smiled warmly as he ran towards her, “It truly is you!” Sharing his mirth, the anger which had previously filled her dissipated. Adrian locked hands, clutching them tightly, fearing she would disappear as before. Not wanting to attract too much attention, the vampire led him to a desolate street, where—without prompting, Adrian spared no moment to kiss [Name], quite desperately. It was clumsy but passionate. She smiled, not returning the action, watching carefully as he whined. Dracula and Faustia always held their seniority over her, bending [Name] to their will, and although the pleasure erased everything from her mind, she could finally see why they enjoyed this. “You’re so eager, dear.” “Don’t leave again,” he begged yet demanded. His fingers curled at the curvature of her waists before it traveled to the dip of her breasts. [Name] let out a sigh of pleasure, “I will visit you tonight, my beloved. Will you wait?” The affectionate sobriquet had Adrian trembling with desire. It felt like a goodbye and he refused to let go; eventually, he nodded, burying his head in the crook of her neck. “I’m hard…” he murmured awkwardly. Sliding down the wall in which she’d been initially pushed onto, [Name] kneeled in front of Adrian, “I will take care of you.”

Nothing was harder, at that moment, than trying to suppress his moans as [Name] took Adrian in her mouth, the warmth and softness making him die a little. The blood that rushed to this cock made the vampire practice restraint. She worked her tongue solely for him, glancing at Adrian with lustful eyes. He couldn’t handle it, his fingers tangling themselves in her well-kept hair, trying to bring her closer than she already was. ‘Come for me. I will take it all’ he heard the voice inside his mind. What was he to do, but to oblige?

Afterwards, he felt a little guilt about messing up the sophisticated hairstyle that he’d ruined, but watching [Name], who at this point introduced herself, lick her lips made him want to do it all over again. He muttered her name as if it was the saving grace on earth. As a reminder of their promise, [Name] kissed him farewell and he was able to taste himself with the action. A second more and she would have jumped him, finding it difficult to resist his blood, especially when his heart beat so fast for her. [Name] searched for an easy meal, absentmindedly bumping into a woman who gave her a haughty glare of disdain. She’d seen her with Adrian, two nobles acting like a pair of degenerates. Reminded of Faustia’s constant disapproval with her actions, [Name] was swift to make the lady into a midday refreshment. Pulling back after she’d drained and dropping the corpse to the dirty ground, she wiped at her mouth, staining the gloves.

“Faustia is right, women taste better,” she called out to the shadows. Silence greeted her, but the vampire knew better. “You can tell her I won’t be coming home to her tonight.” Isaac revealed himself, not caring that he’d been caught. [Name] felt a level of respect towards him, but part of her felt irked, insulted even, that her wife would send anyone to watch, as if she was a careless child. Isaac stood there momentarily, examining the state of his employer before giving a faux bow and retiring.

She had the intent to throw the gloves away but before she could do so, someone else crashed into her form. It only happened because the scent that surrounded the man was, unmistakably, the same as Adrian’s. Looking up, [Name] was met with a handsome face, “Sorry little lady, I did not see you there. Though I must be blind to miss such a beauty like you.” He was a charmer. “Oh, that’s alright.” Another figure bent down to pick up the gloves, raising a brow at the spots of blood. He was fair, pretty for a man. “We apologize for our clumsiness miss.” The first gentleman, who had a different accent, thicker than those of the English, asked, “Are you feeling well?” Concern was reflected in his warm brown eyes. “Yes! I suffer from frequent nosebleeds,” she answered in a flustered voice. “We have a friend, Dr. Seward, we’ll be meeting him soon. Would you like for him to take a look you?” It was a forward suggestion, one that she unfortunately turned down. “I appreciate the offer gentlemen, but I, too, am meeting someone. Thank you.” She left them little room to reply, sauntering away as they watched in a stupored state.

Adrian waited impatiently, having pushed all errands and meetings to another day. His ears perked at the soft rapping on his windows. [Name] stood there, smiling, “Well, are you going to invite me inside?” The glass door opened wider, “Yes! Please come in.” It seemed unreal, having her there, in the private space of his room, examining everything under a careful eye. A notebook caught her eye, wondering what the symbols reminded her of. Cocking her head to the side, she lured him closer, “Come to me, Adrian.” With three curt steps, he was in her arms.

Both of them fell backwards, landing on the neatly made bed. [Name] took initiative, guessing correctly that Adrian had little to no experience in these matters. Her hands explored the vastness of his soft skin, sending shivers down his spine. She traced his hips, waist, ribs, before stopping at his nipples. “Unghh..” grinning at the lewd sounds coming from him, [Name] knew to focus there. Lifting the shirt, she threw it across the room, sucking and nibbling gently at his pinkish buds. “A-ah if you do that—!” Momentarily pulling away, which resulted in her sitting exactly on his cock that felt more strained by each second, Adrian confessed, “Please, let me take you. I want to feel you inside, not just your mouth, please!” He was so pretty. His hair crowned his head and the flush in her cheeks made her grant his desires. “You beg so nicely, of course I’ll let you do what you want.”

Shedding himself inside felt so good that it took all of his will not to come. Adrian panted, the veins in his temple straining with effort. He was deep in thought, trying to focus on the task. “You’re wondering where Faustia is?” she guessed, although she knew exactly what he was thinking always. Adrian didn’t know her name but he nodded, sure they were talking about the same person. He was perfectly content with [Name] but the mean woman had also left an imprint on him. “She won’t be coming but she’s watching.”

“What?”

It was difficult, trying to decipher the meaning of her words all the while thrusting. Laughing, she squeezed at his cock, “Have you not realized, my love? We’re connected. My Master, Faustia, and I.” Perhaps it was childish of him, but Adrian felt jealous, not wanting to share his affections with another man, one whom he did not know in the slightest. Still, he could not afford the luxury of feeling that way, since he was a paramour. This prompted him to ask, “What am I to you?” Her honesty would break his heart but he yearned to know; he felt like Pandora, itching to open the box. [Name] nearly groaned out of impatience, but humored Adrian with an honest answer, “You’re the one. You’ll be our bride.” For some reason this pleased him, though the implication of belonging to more than one person stunned him. It was partly why he could not accept the proposals from the three men that vied for his love. Was something like this possible? His brows pinched, awfully close to achieving his release.

“Would I become your husband?” he asked, this time clearly and hopefully. She shook her head, as if it was a silly thought. “No. You’d be the Master’s bride, Faustia’s, and mine. He yearns for you too, I can feel it.” Adrian was conflicted, his heavy thrusts coming to a stop. “…If I don’t?” His words tentative, testing the waters. Despite being quite literally connected to [Name], he felt detached when she revealed they would never see each other ever again. “You will live and die, I won’t.” She brought a hand to his cheek, “To be together forever, you must accept the gift, though it does not come at an easy price. It’ll cost you everything: your friends, family, this place. Are you prepared to leave it behind?” Adrian thought of everyone else; they way they happily led their lives. He imagined if this is what his father felt when he lost his mother. Trevor and Sypha came to mind; he loved them dearly but he felt abandoned by them. He felt a tinge of resentment course through his veins. Arthur, Quincey, and John… he knows they tried to love him but it just wasn’t enough. [Name] was. She was tangible, for now, but if she left, she would become only a memory and that’s not something he wanted. If he didn’t have her, Adrian would regret it for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, his hold tightened, to the point to bruising, fucking her into the mattress harder than before, declaring, “I will leave everything behind, for you.” Clear droplets fell onto [Name]’s cheek and it took Adrian a moment to realize that he was crying. More tears welled in his eyes, “Please. I will do anything you ask of me, but please, please don’t leave..!” Heart swelled with love, she wiped the tears carefully, “You’re so beautiful, I could die again just looking at you.”

“Please accept me,” his request had double meaning, asking for permission to release and an answer to her proposal. [Name] nodded. She placed a myriad of kisses across his collarbone and shoulder till it lead to his neck. Prepared, she bit Adrian, sucking his blood slowly as he moaned, resuming his previous ministrations. Shortly after, he came with a thunderous force, pumping all of his life into [Name].

#dracula #castlevania x reader #adrian tepes #alucard x y/n #alucard x reader #alucard x you #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #isaac castlevania #hector castlevania #isaac x you #isaac x reader #hector x reader

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knackeredforever · 5 months

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Just finished super lesbian animal rpg and holy shit that was amazing

Everything about this game is so beautiful and wholesome and I 10/10 every character in this game is awesome and the game was super fun as well.

That had to be one of the best stories in any rpg I’ve played I really hope other queer rpgs and games in general in the future have more explicit queer characters that you don’t have to wait hours to find out their queer and have most of it be subtext (hope maybe future chapters of deltarune could take some inspiration from that aspect especially)

I also appreciate how short it was but because the all side content is so fun I was compelled to do it all (which almost never happens with big rpg games I play) and when I finished I had 20 hours in the game.

Basically my only complaint is that the crypt dungeon didn’t have its own unique theme and that was probably because it was relatively short.

Please play this game if you haven’t it’s a masterpiece. I really hope this game gets a sequel

#i love gay people #can’t wait for the sequel where you kill all the gods and also the corporate crypto empire #slarpg #super lesbian animal rpg #ASDSSGXTSWTEGATADYVYGUSGARDYFHVU

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t-hornapple · 9 months

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A scholar chasing down the origin of a cryptic folk song finds himself trapped in Cerr Astiigos, a sinister sea-side castle whose Lord is haunted by the dark crypts that lie below and hold a terrible insight into what the scholar truly seeks.

The first part of my queer mlm gothic horror novel, The Lord of Astiigos, is out! You can get a free teaser of the first 5 chapters on my itch, or buy the full first half for just $5. You will get links to download it as a pdf or an epub.

praise for the book:

A gorgeous blend of folk horror and the gothic, Astiigos has a vividly imagined world, brooding, elegant prose, and delightfully sexy and eerie secrets in equal measure - Robin Zeno (a very good writer who is also my friend)

I was finally able to sit down and properly read the teaser and my goshhhh I was enraptured! I absolutely love love love it so far. You have a gift for creating atmosphere! Picked this up last night and can't recommend it enough after finding myself having to read the whole first part in one sitting. It's been so long since I've felt this captivated by a story, from its characters to the atmosphere, and just how effortlessly the story weaves its mystery together, while holding the truth at its core close to its chest. The little footnotes were delightful too, made the world feel that much more alive, and now I just wish to learn more of it, and the characters themselves. Can't wait to read more wah The Lord of Astiigos inspired me to start writing my own gothic romance/horror, it's so good!!! I love it so much!! I READ MANY THINGS AND THIS BOOK OBJECTIVELY FUCKS HARD

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You will especially like this book if you enjoy: creatures, bog bodies, dilfs from cursed bloodlines, and footnotes.

If you would like to support me while I write it and get the full first part free, you can join my patreon!

#i know the logline is wordy but just bear with me here #my writing #gothic horror #queer gothic #reblogs greatly appreciated #mlm gothic #queer writers

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idiopathicsmile · 6 months

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So I wrote a short little Halloween meet-cute about a member of a 1960s monster-themed novelty band who crosses paths with an actual monster, and then just to be extra (and because every so often, I am physically incapable of not writing vintage Halloween tunes), I recorded a demo of one of the songs the band performs.

My conceit was "what if Jolene but different genre, 10% more queer, and also vampires." I'm aware the electric guitar is a little too fuzzy to be period-accurate, but I futzed around with the settings for like an hour and it beats the alternatives.

Lyrics (and guitar chords on the offhand chance you feel like making my week and doing a cover) are under the cut!

Capo 3

VERSE Well [Em] there’s a new girl on the [C] dating scene She’s [Em] got the hearts a-pounding if you [D] know what I mean She’s [Em] held the menfolk [C] in her grip [Em] Since she emerged from that [D] spooky crypt!

CHORUS Oh, [G] everywhere she goes, all the [D] guys, dig her [Em] ruby lips and her [C] hypnotic eyes And [G] I’m heartbroken, I’m a [D] mess ‘cause [Em] everybody wants to date the [C] vampiress!

VERSE [Em] I’ve got a man and I [C] like him okay [Em] But this vampire lady could steal [D] him away She’s [Em] got sharp cheekbones, a [C] magnetic gaze [Em] Eyes you could get lost in for [C] days and days

[Em] Now my guy will wanna [C] be with her, O- [Em] kay, back to the lady, she speaks [D] in a purr She [Em] moves with an eerie kind of [C] creeping grace I’m [Em] sure he longs for [D] her embrace

CHORUS Her [G] beauty can put men [D] in a trance And [Em] make them think of nothing but [C] dark romance Her [G] name fits as perfect as [D] her black dress And [Em] everybody wants to date the [C] vampiress!

VERSE I’ve [Em] got no choice, yeah I [C] gotta be brave [Em] Go and visit her out [D] near her grave [Em] Beg her not to [C] take my fellow Al [Em] though being near her turns [D] me to jell-o

Em C Em D I [Em] knock on her tomb and my [C] hands are shaking Who [Em] knows what evil I might [D] be awaking I [Em] say “don’t steal my man,” and she [C] says “time out” [Em] “I have no idea who you are [D] talking about.”

CHORUS She [G] raises an eyebrow and in[D]vites me in She [Em] smiles and my head be[C]gins to spin It [G] makes me feel—oh I [D] can’t express [Em] Everybody wants to date the [C] vampiress!

#also this is my recurring plea to make '1960s novelty monster-themed band member/actual literal monster' an AU type #i am aware that i am deep into “trying to make fetch happen” territory on this one #but uh what's spookier than irrational persistence?#HAPPY HALLOWEEN friends

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eisforeidolon · 5 months

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In regards to that post [X]:

We could talk about the same old fallacies - OMG, Dean's siren is a guy! Yeah, a brother. OMG, Dean was supposed to say I love you in the Crypt scene! Yeah, it was removed and replaced with what the writer explicitly said was the less OOC version of what he meant anyway, "We're family". We could talk about the blatant absurdity of statements like "Dean liked men it happened on my screen" which bear no resemblance to the SPN that aired. But we've done that before and others have got this reiteration of it well covered.

So I wanna focus for the moment on this particular even more repulsive gem: "Like he literally doesn't need to verbally tell us he's bisexual we just know. He may not know but we do. This is an unmovable fact sorry."

It tells us a few things. One, this person is a fucking idiot. Two, this person, yet again, thinks that ~*interpreting*~ sexuality from the way someone looks/stands/makes eye contact/eats pastry/whatever numbnuts conspiracy bullshit you like? Is more valid than how a character identifies and is identified by those who created him. People can just look at you and know what your sexuality is better than you do, there's nothing repulsive about that idea at all! I've got a mountain of shiny pennies that says if Dean had literally never interacted with a man for the entire span of the series, they would have insisted it was because he was so afraid of how much he wanted to fuck them. There was no way the writers could have written Dean that someone like that would have accepted as actually heterosexual, because that's not what they personally wanted, so that's not what they were going to see.

I'm not saying there aren't things that might be said about how relatively questionable some of the gay jokes in SPN are, especially in the early years in terms of making queerness a punchline. But if we're going to talk about that? We need to do it not only in the cultural context of 2005 rather than 2023, but in the context of portrayals of real world men - and particularly those in fairly rural settings who aren't going to be particularly conscientious in the way they rib each other. Which becomes a whole other discussion about where to draw lines when you're writing fiction and dealing with things that might be realistic but also potentially offensive.

Furthermore, I'm not saying there aren't things that might be said about how SPN continually used romantic tropes for platonic relationships and how it's not entirely absurd for that to land different with the audience when the characters are not blood-related. Except that discussion needs to include not just how maybe the writers shouldn't have treated it as such a joke that a relationship between two male characters might have been possible, but also how fans should absolutely not have equated a relationship being theoretically possible with any specific relationship they wanted being owed to them. Especially in the context of those romantic tropes being used so so so much more between brothers all the fucking time setting the tone. As well as how it's not just problematic to treat the possibility of homosexual relationships as a joke, but problematic to insist literally any closeness between two male entities is gay, reinforcing all kinds of nasty toxic stereotypes about sexuality and masculinity which underlay a lot of modern adult men's issues with expressing their emotions and having genuinely close and open relationships outside of their romantic partners. I've seen fans wonder how heterosexual dudes can watch this show and love the brothers' relationship without seemingly noticing the weird undertones of how claustrophobically intertwined they are, and I think it's very much that when it comes to wanting a fantasy of platonic closeness, they're looking for realism as much as most women reading trashy romance novels are - but that's a whole other digression and this is already too long.

At the end of the day, not only was SPN not created in the cultural context of Very Online Tumbrites in 2023, convinced that nothing should ever be is heterosexual and every fictional story should be about them and what they want? The fact their ostensible original point misses is the real world and most other media of 2023 aren't like that either! Some of these shippers come across like they've literally never seen two adult male friends interact with each other or any actual love stories in media - and it's not just early 2000's television characters getting this treatment from entitled shippers who want to use representation as a weapon against creators as to why they're owed things they absolutely aren't.

#destihellers #faux social justice #long post #Dean *exists* = OMG SO BI!

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mariana-oconnor · 6 months

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Shoscombe Old Place full

First of all, in my head this story is either called Shoscombe Old Spot*, and is about pigs, or Is a repeat of the Boscombe Valley Mystery. I cannot call it the right name to save my life.

This is all I am going to see for every character in this story. I apologise in advance.

*There is a type of pig called a Gloucester Old Spot.

Sherlock Holmes had been bending for a long time over a low-power microscope. Now he straightened himself up and looked round at me in triumph.

"Since I ran down that coiner by the zinc and copper filings in the seam of his cuff they have begun to realize the importance of the microscope.”

And 100 years later it would be used in flashy, edited montages of pretty forensic scientists also identifying glue and threads from a tweed coat.

"Watson, you know something of racing?” “I ought to. I pay for it with about half my wound pension.”

Did Mary die, or did she throw him out for his gambling addiction and they both agreed to pretend the other was dead because it's Victorian Britain?

“It was when he horsewhipped Sam Brewer, the well-known Curzon Street money-lender, on Newmarket Heath. He nearly killed the man.” “Ah, he sounds interesting! Does he often indulge in that way?”

I would call that neither interesting, nor indulging, but you do you, I guess.

Sir Robert Norberton. Sounds like a great guy.

"He should have been a buck in the days of the Regency—a boxer, an athlete, a plunger on the turf, a lover of fair ladies, and, by all account, so far down Queer Street that he may never find his way back again.”

That took a distinct turn for the unexpected at the end there. Quite the euphemism there. Apparently it just means he has money problems (presumably because of being a horrible person and a gambler) but the joys of linguistic evolution strike again.

Is he... far down Queer Street, or has he just gone a few steps?

“There are the Shoscombe spaniels,” said I. “You hear of them at every dog show. The most exclusive breed in England. They are the special pride of the lady of Shoscombe Old Place.”

The spaniels are now also pigs in my brain. Everything is pigs. It's actually a long con that Lady Beatrice has been pulling for years. 'Most exclusive breed' = they're actually pigs in disguise.

...the firm, austere expression which is only seen upon those who have to control horses or boys.

This absolutely made me laugh. Excellent description.

“First of all, Mr. Holmes, I think that my employer, Sir Robert, has gone mad.”

Really? How could you tell? He seems like such a level-headed and calm person with absolutely no emotional issues whatsoever.

No really, how could you tell?

“Well, sir, when a man does one queer thing, or two queer things, there may be a meaning to it, but when everything he does is queer, then you begin to wonder."

😐😐😐

They did say he was pretty far down Queer Street, my dude. That's probably what the issue is.

This story is already one of the most unintentionally hilarious we've read. I hope it doesn't end with the deaths of horses or children. Or some woman marrying the abusive arsehole. That would ruin the joy.

And ah, we have reached the casual antisemitism. Because of course we have. Money lenders were mentioned, clearly there was going to be some.

"Then there is his conduct to Lady Beatrice!” “Ah! What is that?” “They have always been the best of friends. They had the same tastes, the two of them"

Does she also enjoy whipping people almost to death? Family dinners must be a riot!

“And a bitter, savage, spiteful quarrel at that. Why else would he give away her pet spaniel that she loved as if he were her child?"

"But then, again, what is master doing down at the old church crypt at night? And who is the man that meets him there?”

...I mean... Do we really want to get into that?

There's a haunted crypt? Excellent. Ghost pigs abound.

"So we up when Sir Robert was gone and pretended we were just having a walk like in the moonlight..."

Just a casual moonlit bro walk at midnight in the hook-up graveyard. Like bros.

What even is this story? I don't need to provide commentary, it's all in the text (apart from the pigs).

‘Hullo, mate! who may you be?’ says I. I guess he had not heard us coming, so he looked over his shoulder with a face as if he had seen the devil coming out of hell.

You were in the haunted graveyard. He thought you were a fucking ghost my friend. And if he didn't, he should have done and I will be very annoyed.

"From Dr. Watson's description of Sir Robert I can realize that no woman is safe from him."

Or man. Or non-binary person.

“No, sir, and there is something more that I can't fit in. Why should Sir Robert want to dig up a dead body?”

I feel... like you could have opened with the grave robbery? Maybe. Could be important. Seems relevant, if not to the case as a whole then just to... general interest, honestly.

If he dug up a grave at the haunted hook-up graveyard on Queer Street, man's going to be haunted by all the queerest ghosts. It's going to be Queer Eye for a Live Guy all over that place. Though I suspect Sr Robert is beyond their undead assistance.

"It was all in order, sir, except that in one corner was a bit of a human body.”

A bit... Which bit?

"It was just the head and a few bones of a mummy. It may have been a thousand years old."

Oh wow, is this the thing where people ate mummies for their health or something? There was a massive fad where people were just like 'I guess eating this person who is dead will stop me from dying, that makes logical sense and isn't disgusting at all' nom nom nom. Please tell me one of these people is a cannibal. Not like cannibalism yay, obviously, but that's pretty much the last thing this story needs to become completely epic.

"The creature was howling outside the old well-house, and Sir Robert was in one of his tantrums that morning. He caught it up, and I thought he would have killed it. Then he gave it to Sandy Bain, the jockey, and told him to take the dog to old Barnes at the Green Dragon, for he never wished to see it again.”

Ways in which Sir Robert Norberton is better than Sir Eustace of The Abbey Grange fame: instead of covering the dog in petrol and setting it on fire, Sir Robert just sent it away. The bar is so incredibly low for Holmesian villains.

Also, there was something in the old well-house. Probably a horse. Dog was giving it away so dog had to go.

But he didn't kill the dog. So proud. He can whip men half to death, but he draws the line at hurting dogs, apparently.

“It's the upper condyle of a human femur,” said I.

Hey. Look! Watson did a doctor thing! And it wasn't brandy.

And now they're going undercover.

Part 2

"...refuses to stop at the stables to greet her favourite horse..."

This makes me feel like it's not her favourite horse. We've already been told the horse has a doppelganger. Did the real horse die and now he's got a problem because all his money is on the horse winning the race, but he's only got the rubbish one? Or was there only ever one horse in the first place and it's rubbish? But the bone is a human femur, or so Watson says.

"Let us suppose, Watson—it is merely a scandalous supposition, a hypothesis put forward for argument's sake—that Sir Robert has done away with his sister.”

Did not see that coming. I think I missed that no one at all had seen her other than the maid. I guess it makes sense because if she dies, the estate goes to someone else and then he has no money at all. I have been distracted by horses.

Though the fact that Holmes is saying this implies to me that it's not the case. On the other hand, this is only a two parter, so there can't be that much more plot to go.

“My dear Holmes, it is out of the question.” “Very possibly, Watson. Sir Robert is a man of an honourable stock."

There is so much wrong with this exchange, I don't know where to start.

"Never mind me. I shall stand behind this holly-bush and see what I can see.”

By which you mean whether the 'spaniel' wants to go to its mistress.

Aw, he's such a good boy.

Then they stop in the suspected murder investigation to have a fishing day. That's the thing about the Holmes stories. ACD isn't afraid to say 'and there was nothing that could be done right then so we just had a jolly day out'. Crime fighting is such a leisurely business.

“‘Fore God, Mr. Holmes, it's all right,” said he. “Appearances are against me, I'll admit, but I could act no otherwise.”

A surprisingly reasonable response here from the man that we have been repeatedly told by multiple people likes to punch first and ask questions never.

"Mrs. Norlett, under her maiden name of Evans, has for some years been my sister's confidential maid."

The maid is married!? and her husband's a character?! That Sir Robert knows?! Plot twist!

So she died of natural causes. That's kind of nice. If it wasn't for all the antisemitism, this one would be pretty good.

Except for how the violent gambling addict magically makes good in the end and turns out not to be so bad after all. Though I suppose I should be happy he turned his life around. Maybe a little anticlimactic, but it's a good twist that I didn't see coming because I was too busy thinking of horses.

And pigs.

#Letters from Watson #Shoscombe Old Place #Sherlock Holmes #long post

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shattered-souls-system · 5 days

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Meet Us!!

Hey there! We're the shattered souls' system! We are a polyfrag DID system of 250+! You may call us Souls or Cinematic collectively! We use They/It/He if not specified! We are otherkin, therian, fictionkin, and alterhuman in general! We have both psychological and spiritual kins We are a minor!! Below those who may post will be writing an intro about themselves: Hi I'm John, I'm the one who wrote the above! I'm our host, and I identify most, plus age with the body! I am also a symptom holder for psychosis! I was the one who discovered the system though I haven't been the host for long! My pronouns are He/It/Hound! Hello there kids! I'm Georgia! My pronouns are She/Her, I'm a cohost and our online protector! That means I'm in charge of our online safety, I try my best to keep us safe, I may not post much but I do make sure everyone is being safe on our online accounts. Salutations, I am called Alaric, or Lar for short, I am a symptom holder for our OCD, my pronouns are they/it, I don't think I'll post much but I do front a lot so perhaps I will! I hang out with Aloysius mostly! Crypts intro will be below! Hey hey I'm Aloysius, my pronouns are Crypt/Blood/It. I'm a protector, and non-human in headspace,, uhh I'm usually quite happy! Thats about it! I'm a protector! This is not all of us who will be posting, others will be, however, I can't be bothered to ask everyone to make one who wants to post! If any littles post rest assured a caregiver or Georgia will be with them to protect them! BYF:

We are anti-endo! We are a minor! We are pro-mspec! We are Introject Heavy! We are psychotic (In the psychosis sense.) We have DAs/IRLs though we are pro-recovery so will not mention them or probably talk about them at all. We DO NOT support TransIDs. We are Trans, Queer, and AroAcespec DNI: Bigots Maps Z00s Transm3ds Sexualizing Agere NSFW Blogs (We are a minor!!) Radqueers Cringe Blogs (You won't listen anyway but still)

Thanks for reading I hope we can be friends!

[ID: A blue background, with a white outline, on the left side is a picture of Marvel's Captain America, specifically the live actor, on the right side, black text saying "Cap protects this blog from: Fakeclaimers, MAPs, antikin, queerphobes"]

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know-the-way · 1 year

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Like… here’s the thing, I get it. Covid came and fucked everything up - any momentum that any franchise might’ve had got the emergency stop button pushed on it and it sucked for everybody. So maybe hoping for another film or series is asking too much - shooting for the moon, pipe dream, etc. I’m (reluctantly) willing to accept that.

But… ya know… there’s a few things I feel could perhaps be accomplished within the realm of greater possibility. Of which I have created a short list.

*clears throat* *turns on powerpoint*

For your consideration:

1. A Reunion Special - just a chill, cozy little hour or two with the whole gang to reminisce and reflect (and maybe clarify some of the gaps and misunderstandings for Crypt of Tears… please? 😀).

Worst case scenario - it’s the last sentence of the final chapter; a goodbye and good luck.

Best case scenario - reignites interest & maybe entices some funding out of the woodwork (*wink wink, nudge nudge eh?*).

2. Spare Gag Reel? - You’re telling me these idiots spent like 80% of the time cracking up and ruining and takes and you nEVER WANTED TO SHARE WITH THE CLASS?

No, I know there’s weird rules and agreements that have to be made and actors have to individually consent to it being shown (at least in the states, maybe Australia’s different), but like… please tell me someone kept some of it. Please tell me it wasn’t trashed in haste… ‘cause then you will have wasted what could’ve been a giant serotonin boost for so many young, neurodivergent queer women/nb folks, a few lads, and some lovely senior citizens. And just sayin’… I would pay cinema ticket prices to see that.

So. Just food for thought.

3. The Alternate Takes/Deleted Scenes - Those rumors can’t have come from nowhere. Don’t be shy.

The X-Files did it, too. You get caught up in not wanting to jump the shark that you nosedive right under it instead (i.e. that kiss could’ve happened and it would’ve been just fine). So it’s okay, really. No one’s gonna be mad (I think)… we just wanna see it.

I’m even down for stuff that never got filmed, but was in the og script. I will eat every bite of what you put on my plate, I promise.

4. A Combination of All Three - ✌️😚😎

In conclusion - @ Every Cloud/ABC/AcornTV/Whoever Else… please. And thank you.

#mfmm #listen… i just don’t see the harm in sharing #maybe there is though #but if there isn’t… demand is hopefully requesting supply #demand has also had some wine so…

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wellofdean · 7 months

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I've read a lot of your posts, but I don't how you can say that Supernatural was not queerbaiting. What do you mean by 'it was structural'? The PTB never let Dean and Cas be in love, they just strung us all along and then slammed the door in our faces? Killed the gay and then never mentioned Cas again? That is queerbaiting, plain and simple.

Hi friend. Well, this is why: there are too many things, especially starting from the arc in season 7 where Cas is working with Crowley, that simply DO NOT MAKE SENSE unless Dean is in love with Cas, and Cas is in love with Dean. I mean... what do you mean they never let them be in love? Were we watching the same show?

Like, Why does Dean look back at Cas with that injured look on his face when Cas is working with Crowley? Why does Dean forgive Cas for breaking Sam's brain almost immediately? Why does Dean take Cas's stupid trenchcoat with him through a series of stolen cars when he thinks Cas is dead after the Leviathans? Why does he look like he is going to die on the spot when he meets Emmauel and his wife? Why was Dean in Purgatory for a year, refusing to leave even though he had a way out until he found 'the angel'? Why is Cas not leaving Purgatory with him so devastatingly painful that he has to rewrite his memories to cope? Why does Dean telling Cas he needs him break Naomi's conditioning in that crypt? Why do they forgive each other irrationally again and again and again? What in the holy name of all that is totally fucking gay was Dean's confession about? Why does the narrative very explicitly parallel Cain's wife with Cas? Why does it parallel Cas and Eileen? Why can't Dean, possessed with the mark of Cain, kill Cas? Why does Cas let Dean beat him up or hold him back, like, EVER? Why did Mary fucking know the minute she met Cas? Why did Castiel, angel of the lord, let Dean dress him up like a fucking cowboy? Why does Sam always have that look on his face when they bicker? Why is losing Cas what breaks Dean down like nothing else? Why is their relationship breaking, being mended and fucking saving the world the most important emotional arc and plot element of the entire final season? Why does Dean always look like he is literally choking on his own heart whenever anything Cas is involved? Wherefore all those insane Jacting Joices?? Like, I could go on and on, but their love for each other is the backbone of SO MUCH of that story, and there is simply too much of Supernatural that doesn't make a lick of sense if Dean is not queer and in love with Cas, and Cas doesn't love Dean beyond all human understanding.

And listen: I don't care what anyone involved in the making Supernatural says about it! The text is the text, and it is profoundly, thoroughgoingly queer. They loved each other. They were each other's primary relationship, and nearly every other character on the show sees it and SAYS it.

Here's what I wish the "QUEERBAITING!!!" crowd would remember: there are a lot of queer experiences in the world to represent, and not all of them are defined by who tongue wrestles and fucks who. Not all of them are sexual at all! Not all of them are happy endings. There are a lot of queer people who don't work out their trauma and hetero conditioning until it's too late somehow, and who have to make peace with just being, or just saying it, and not having, again and again and again. There are a lot of queer people, even now, who can't look their real selves in the eye. There are queer people out there who want a thing they can't have, or think they can't have, and don't say anything at all about it. The fact that they can't say it, or can't have it doesn't make them any less fully fucking queer.

Some of us queers felt seen and represented by this story, Don't erase us just because you didn't get to see two pretty men make out.

That said, the majority of the final two episodes of Supernatural were egregious examples of narrative malpractice, and we all deserved better. Dean and Cas deserved better. I will agree with you there. But, that's not queerbaiting; it's just poor storytelling and denial. The queerness was already BAKED IN, and fully present, and I would argue it was there from the get go, that it went from a character based on a bisexual beat-era dude in a story about profound Daddy issues to the most romantic love story I have ever seen with my eyes on TV.

Seriously, SPN fandom catechism is so tired.

#supernatural #destiel #queerbaiting #it's not queerbaiting when it's just queer

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fellwar-finch · 7 months

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I'm here, I'm queer, and I'm finally Dimir!

The new fae precon has sucked me in utterly to the guild that's been haunting my life for years now (I have another post about that).

From the moment I sat down at the table the first time. Opened the deck. Unsleeved, no playmat, across the table from four strangers. I opened the pack of two promo cards that come with it.

Full-art Talion.

Dimir has always been good to me! And with the fae lord at my side and Tegwyll leading my deck, I scored a hard-fought win against 3 players who actively use mana crypt and proxied dual lands. Just one game of three, but I truly think there's nothing more thrilling than having Obyra and Oona on board together, and leaving the fate of the game up to the top cards of the opponent's deck. I had enough mana left over to check three cards, both opponents at 1 life. Got one fairy out of it and won! And then I switched the commander to Alela, and beat my friend's aristocrat combo Elenda deck *handily* in a 1v1. Turns out goad isn't bad even then, you can turn sacrifice outlets or utility creatures into attackers and then just block them. And if a mechanic built for multiplayer still performs this well in just a 1v1... Maybe I was underestimating her. So now I've messed with the deck a lil. Putting in more counterspells and instant-speed interaction, more ways to mess up my opponents' days!

And it's *fun*. It's fun to play mindgames, it's fun to not seem like a threat until it's too late, it's fun to play on the opponent's turn, it's fun to counter important spells, it's fun to make a tiny little army of creatures just for playing on someone else's turn! Just all in all a blast to play!

So here's me, returning to my little magic the gathering corner of tumblr and saying that finally, *finally*.

I am Dimir.

#mtg #magic the gathering #edh #Alela Cunning Conqueror

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aberrantundead · 4 months

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Pinterest | Playlist | Artwork

Connor is an Undying Warlock with a neutral good alignment. Connor’s pronouns are he/they. They are classified as undead, aberration, and humanoid. They are 470 years old. He stands at 7 feet tall, or 2.13 meters. His weight is around 80-110 lbs (this includes the tentacles). Connor is intersex, non-binary, and pansexual with demiromantic tendencies. They are polyamorous and love being loved and loving others.

Connor as a character is unorthodox to the fullest extent, as they are largely homebrew. He is in a level 1-20 campaign ran by @skeletone that has been ongoing since 2019, and is expected to be ongoing for years to come. This character for me has been an ultimate expression as a coping mechanism for my relationship with death, fear of outer space (with Connor practically being an alien), and an expression of queerness that I, as a queer person, enjoy exploring. In a way, this character is a self portrait of major parts of myself.

Connor’s personality snapshot: expressive, open, self revealing, loves/hates large parties, loud, social, outgoing, does not like social isolation, assertive, positive, always busy, likes to fit in but also likes to stand out, enjoys leadership, brutally honest, trusting, optimistic, desires attention, dominant, aggressive, attachment prone, wants to be understood, lonely, melancholic, self loathing

Currently, Connor and their friends have saved the city of Waterdeep. They have struck alliances with many individuals such as Renaer Neverember, Volothamp Geddarm, Jarlaxle Baenre and Laerel Silverhand, while dealing with The Xanathar, mindflayers, devils, the Cassalanters, and Manshoon. Recently, they have ventured out to the North to successfully kill Auril who relentlessly was wailing on parts of Toril with her unforgiving winter weather. Auril’s demise was accomplished with help of another god’s Chosen, who took Auril’s divine spark and corrupted it with their own god’s essence. With Auril’s inflicted weather now removed, Connor and their friends can travel the oceans she froze to get to a forge that belongs to a golden dragon underneath Waterdeep. The group promised the golden dragon they would help reclaim it from another dragon who overtook it.

Connor’s in-depth information is below, and while I wish I could divulge all of Connor’s secrets, some of my teammates are on this site and are mutuals and in general are aware of the existence of this space, so I can only unveil right now what’s been given in game.

Current revealed facts about Connor in Legends of the Five:

• Connor once lived life as a human before. He was born as a human. Lived and loved as one. Connor’s previous name in life before taking up the name Connor was Alistair Reiter.

• Alistair Reiter had a wife, a child, and ran a church dedicated to Lathander. He was a priest.

• Present day Connor has a phobia of horses. This pertains to the fact that Alistair’s/Connor’s daughter in life was trampled to death by a horse.

• In hopes of trying to resurrect his dead daughter, Alistair dabbled into unknown forces of necromancy and made a pact with a mysterious entity in order to channel said necromancy.

• Learning this necromancy allowed him to attach another pair of limbs to himself amid his experimentation.

• Alistair’s hubris is what led to his death and downfall. Such is what happens when you play with forces of life and death and try to play God.

• For some years after his death and his body long since decayed, Alistair’s dead body was animated by a mysterious force and was sent on a killing spree against any wandering adventurers before the Spellplague deactivated him. His body was then put in a crypt, and wrapped in golden chains.

• Alistair was resurrected by a necromancer who found him in the crypts years later. Alistair then takes the name Connor out of a desire to not affiliate with his wretched past. Symbolism of a clean slate and starting over. The necromancer that resurrected him ended up being a short lived lover and partner until they both split amid an argument. Only recently has Connor been able to get over their ex.

• Connor finds out that he cannot die, and any time he is destroyed, he often reforms hours later. Whatever force keeps him animated, is clearly by a higher power—likely his warlock patron. Using dispel magic on him also temporarily deactivates him.

• Connor is part of a hivemind that has origins from the Far Realm.

• Connor has a sibling (or technically another him, if they’re a hivemind) named Exodus, who breached the material plane during a summoning ritual for a Far Realm entity named Auc’thil’une—with Exodus as the representative of Auc’thil’une. He changed from an incomprehensible entity into a human with tentacles in his eye sockets that he hides behind shades.

• Similarly, Connor is actually the mass of tentacles inside of the skeleton that was once his when he had flesh.

•Connor was born in the body of a human and lived as one—Exodus did not. Exodus finds himself disgruntled and disgusted at Connor’s empathy and love for this world, and at Connor’s developed humanity. Connor is an anomaly among aberrations for this reason. In no way should an aberration have humanity. • Connor’s golden chains apparently keep him sentient, and when they are removed, Connor loses all sense of self and begins to indiscriminately attack anything living, plagued by a feeling of hunger. These chains seem to belong a small organization of necromancers called The Order of the Golden Chain. They were often used by necromancers on their undead. Connor is considered a rogue undead with no master/necromancer controlling him. • Connor finds out that they have a suppressed appetite—and it’s a desire for living flesh. Dead flesh does not satisfy whatever dark primal hunger sits inside Connor. This rightfully horrifies Connor.

#pinned post #This character was long overdue for an introduction I realized #Especially since his lore is often hidden behind a wall and that wall is my shyness #but I owe it to this character who has a whole blog about them to at minimum put out a bio of some sort

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