#dals rc

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Dude that ending sucked I'm sorry 💀 getting thru these four episodes was torture AAVBF like it got extended and you can still FEEL the way the writer struggled to tie all the loose end. Why were the characters talking in exposition the whole damn time ?? We lost SO much time on these weird magical bureaucracy bullshit uuvhfvg. It's awful because some of the scenes that were the closest to what this story was from the beginning which is a love story through out the ages full of yearning, reminded me why I love this book in the first place. But now ?? It was just a mix of random characters I haven't seen in literal years, a "final battle" on horses which is just *so* ridiculous and some deus ex machina bullshit like.... five years ??? To end it like THAT ????

(vlad x laia x leo | 1785 words | on ao3)

Laia was drunk. She was drunk, and she knew it because of the way she was moving her body in what she would call dance and her mother would call demonic possession. She knew it by the way she was belting out the lyrics to “What’s Up?” even when her boyfriends were here to witness her shame.

No matter, since one of them was clearly drunk as fuck too.

Leo had an arm in the air and the other around her shoulders. They were sharing the microphone, which wasn’t supposed to be the case, but his mic vanished around five songs ago. Laia personally thought they sounded, if not good, at least happy, which ought to be what mattered.

Vlad’s pained face said he disagreed, but unfortunately Laia had more pressing matters to deal with just then.

“Okay,” she said, trying to comprehend if the numbers on the screen announced they had hit a new high or unimaginable lows. “My turn to choose. I choose Rasputin.”

“Uh, no,” Leo interrupted. “You chose the last one. It’s my turn now.”

Laia stared at his beautiful, consternated face. He was puffing his cheeks, possibly to denote stubbornness, but honestly, he just looked adorable.

“Fine. Okay. Your turn. Never say I can’t be diplomatic.”

Leo whooped, getting the controller from her hands and browsing until he found what he wanted.

He selected Rasputin.

From the couch, their other lover snorted.