#EPIC MY ONE AND ONLY TRUE LOVE

[mushtoons]

MR JALAPENO!!!! RELEASE ACT 2 OF EPIC!!! AND MY LIFE!!! IS URS !!!!!!

I NEED THE FULL SONG OF GET IN THE WATER

[crispy-critter]

hey guys remember the time zelda became a magical girl

closeups under the cut :>

[im-smart-i-swear]

guy trapped in a hell of his own creation: haha ive never done anything wrong in my entire life. and im always right:] anyway. why did my little brother move out:(

its so funny to me that at first glance tashi seems like hed be the most 'normal' out of all the clones but at least all the others are slowly healing n shit while hes just getting more and more insane each day and one day hell snap and explode and maim someone

[moe-broey]

Imagine, jf you would. Divorced guy Lif

[toxinoire]

No because if you think of it, Polites probably doesn't hold onto guilt.

"I see in you face you have so much guilt inside your heart. So why not replace it and light up the world?"

Replace.

Polites is happy and energetic

But bro has no regret about the blood on his hands.

The man is a soldier, he was with the crew during the Trojan war.

The man has killed people.

He's a not a baby boy, he's a sunshine boy. There's a difference. The only baby boy in Epic is Telemachus.

...At least I hope he stays as one.

need people to stop "uwu baby boy"-ing Polites

that man killed people

[thebestsetter]

Would you fall in love with me again?

• Synopsis: he knew football changed him. That's why he couldn't help but be scared. Would you still love him the same?

• Characters: Kunigami Rensuke (post Wild Card), Sae Itoshi, Michael Kaiser

• TW: Kaiser had an episode, the f word like one time

• A/N: EPIC consumed my mind.

𝕂𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕚 ℝ𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕖

He was different.

That was the first thing you noticed when Kunigami Rensuke, your boyfriend, knocked at your door on a random wednesday after disappearing for 7 months to go to some "Blue Lock" project.

"Is it really you?" You asked, voice dripping with doubt and love at the same time. Your knuckles were white from how strong your hold on the door was "Or am I dreaming once again?"

"I am not the man you feel in love with" he said, his deep voice wavering, not even giving you a proper 'Hello, how are you?' after so long "I am not your calm and gentle boyfriend. I've changed. For good"

You stayed silent, though it was not by choice. You were just so, so overwhelmed by emotions that it seemed like you had forgotten how to speak. Your tongue felt heavy inside your mouth, and your eyes were wide, unmoving, despite the tears threatning to spill from them, almost as if if you blinked, Kunigami, your house and everything else around you would disappear, and this would be nothing more than one of the countless dreams you had with him.

"Kuni" you started, getting closer. Your hand perfectly cupped his cheeks, as if it was meant to be there, and he instantly leaned in, almost like it was second nature. You caressed the dark circles under his eyes, and you were sure you had similar ones from the nights spent locked in your room, crying and missing him "What kind of things did you do?"

"I gave up on my hero ideology" he lifted one of his hands and put it right above yours, still on his cheeks "As I destroyed friends and teammates like they were objects I could use" he closed his eyes, basking in your warmth. Gently, he kissed the inner part of your wrist and sighed in relief, almost as if he was still convincing himself that you were, indeed, very real "And I am not the love you once knew"

The tears that were in your eyes finally fell. You could feel his hands trembling - if you were feeling scared, he was terrified. Terrified that you would reject him. Terrified to be cast away from your life. Terrified of who he became.

"Well, if that's true" you swallowed hard, blinking as more tears kept coming "Could you do me a favour? Just a moment of labour, I swear. Could you please pick up that flower over there?" You pointed to a Baby's breath, neatly arranged at the floor, beside the door "I think it's whitering. Could you carry it over? Take it far away from here, please"

Rensuke eyes suddenly shot opened, his own tears starting to appear

"How could you say this?" His voice got patheticay loud, and he despised himself for crying in front of you, but it couldn't be helped. What you asked him was ridiculous "I helped you plant that baby's breath on our first date. It's a simbol of everlasting love - our everlasting love." His voice grew louder, more desperate, like he was talking to someone kilometers away from him "I can't do that, you know it. The only way to move it is to cut it from it's roots."

You couldn't help but smile. You grabbed his free hand with your own one, looking directly at his eyes. It was like the world around you both had stopped, and even the birds' singing and cars noises ceased. You could only hear Kunigami's frantic breath in contrast to your calm one.

"Well, only my boyfriend knew when that flower was planted" you smiled, getting closer to him. You rested your forehead in his, closing your eyes. He followed your actions, sighing "So I guess that makes him you"

You pointed to his chest, right where his heart should be

"Don't tell me you're not the same person. It's still you, right here. And you know I've been waiting for you"

He opened his eyes, staring right at yours as both of you cried, ugly sobs coming from your mouths.

He was still your boyfriend, after all. Your lovely, amazing boyfriend who you loved so much it hurt.

And when he finally kissed you after months, trying to convey a love so raw and genuine through his actions, everything seemed to fall back into place again.

𝕊𝕒𝕖 𝕀𝕥𝕠𝕤𝕙𝕚

5 years.

That's how long you waited for Sae Itoshi to come back from Spain. To come back to Japan. To come back to you.

5 years of rejecting suitors. 5 years of dreaming of him every night. 5 years of suffering, yearning for your boyfriend who was all the way across the globe.

That's why, when he finally comes home looking even worse than you, you were not surprised.

"Are my eyes decieving me?" You smiled lightly, your nose already feeling stuffed - you knew you were about to cry

He muttered your name dreamily, staring at you intensely.

He's not sure how, but he managed to find the strength to smile your way. God, how long has it been since the last time he smiled? And yet, just by being next to you, he felt his lips stretching up.

Something was strange, though. You knew him. You knew Sae Itoshi, the boy who dreamed big and who you fell in love with. You knew him.

"Your eyes look tired" you frowned, getting closer and closer until your your knees were practically touching"Your smile's torn. You're different, Sae"

His smile fell, and you almost regretted what you had said. He grabbed your hands and caressed them with his thumbs, avoiding your gaze - something uncharacteristic of him

"Would you fall in love with me again?" He asked, sighing. His eyes finally met your gaze, and you could see the sadness in them - almost as if he was a young Atlas, carrying the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. You wish you could help somehow, ease his burden, but it was clear you couldn't "If you knew all I've done. The things I can not change."

His eyes sparkled, and Sae Itoshi never cried, but you swore you saw them getting a bit glossy. You didn't know what he was talking about, but he clearly had a fight with someone - probably a teammate or something.

"And I know you've been waiting for me" Sae continued, not giving you a chance to answer "But I am not the love you knew before. I am not the man you adored. I'm no longer him" he let go of your hands, staring right at you like he could read your soul - even though you knew if he could, he wouldn't understand a single thing. You weren't understanding your own thoughts. How could he?

"So tell me, Amor" he said, his spanish pronunciation way better than you remembered it to be "Would you fall in love with me again?"

A gentle silence settled between you, which was strange. You've dreamed for so long about what you'd say to him once you saw him again, and yet when you saw him you were completely at a loss of words.

Sae took your silence as an answer. He began to walk away, head hung low and hands on his pockets.

He knew this would happen. He knew it. He was not that Sae Itoshi. He was not even human. He was a machine, made for playing soccer. He knew you wouldn't accept him.

He knew it. Yet it didn't hurt any less when he grabbed his travel bag and started distancing himself from you

"I..." he heard you saying, and even though he tried not to, he stopped. He needed to hear your answer. His brain and heart needed closure.

He could practically hear the gears on your head turning, trying to find the right words to convey your feelings

"I will fall in love with you over and over again" you answered, voice steady "Doesn't matter how long it's been, Sae, I will always love you. I've waited for you. And I will always wait for you. You're mine, Sae. And I'm yours. That's something no amount of time or distance is ever going to change"

A gentle silence settled between you both once again, as you stared at eachother's eyes. The 10 meters that separated you both suddenly felt like 10 kilometers.

The snow felt like quicksand while Sae made his way to you, first taking hesitant steps, and then almost running to get to you.

And when he hugged you and you fit perfectly into the crook of his shoulder, you knew you'd be alright.

You were not going to give up on each other. No matter how hard things were.

You both then kissed each other, sealing that silent promise.

𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕖𝕝 𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕣

Kaiser has always been a hard person to deal with, but he's been way worse after the Neo Egoist League.

He was screaming at the smallest inconveniences, spent days without even sparing you a glance, trained till he passed out from exhaustion and was making even more snarky remarks, if it was even possible. He was not fine, and you knew that. You knew him.

Your suspicions were confirmed during one of his episodes.

Kaiser usually had some episodes while remembering his childhood trauma, and he always confided in you to help him overcome them.

You were proud of this arrangement, actually: trust has always been what held your relationship together.

That's why you couldn't make sense as to why he was hiding from you during one of the worsts - if not the worst - episodes you've ever seen him had.

"Micha?" You asked, finding him curled up in the corner of your shared closet "Are you okay?"

"Don't come near me" He whispered. His eyes were red from crying, and you could swear you saw a purple bruise on his neck. Why didn't he call you?

"Okay" your voice was gentle, as if you were soothing a kid "Okay. I won't come closer. But I'm right here. Just focus on my breath, my love. Can you follow it for me, please?" You began breathing louder, hoping he'd follow your lead

Sadly, he began shaking his head, breathing growing even more frantic

"I-I can't" he muttered, shaking like a leaf

"Of course you can" you whispered "C'mon, breath in" you breathed in and held for a while "breath out" you repeated. Finally, he followed your commands

Luckily, after a while, his breath began to come back to normal, and you pondered just what was going through his head to make him act like that.

"Can I come closer now?" You asked, voice still gentle. When he nodded, you wasted no time in sitting right next to him, still not touching his body

Silence was loud between you too, and you wondered if he was even going to speak something about it

"W..." he began, voice breaking. He then took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say "Would you fall in love with me again... if I lost all I had?" He asked. He gave you no time to think begore he continued "Would you have fallen in love with me if I was just a little kid with a fucked up, drunk dad? If I had no money, name or fame?" He looked at you, staring at your eyes like he would forget them the moment he looked elsewhere "Would you?"

Once again, silence enveloped the room.

"Forget it" he muttered, starting to get up "It was a stupid question"

He was almost standing when you put your hands on his knee, earning a confused "huh?" from him.

Just like he did earlier, you took a deep breath

"Michael, I don't care how, where, or when. You're mine. I love you for you. I don't care for your name, your value or your football abilities. I don't want to see Michael Kaiser, the emperor. I want to see Michael Kaiser, my boyfriend." You also got up, slowly reaching for his hands, like you were asking for permission. "I love you, Kaiser"

He tried really hard not to cry again. You could see it. The way he contorted his face before letting the tears fall freely.

One after the other, he began crying hard. Sobbing and hiccuping and all. He would never cry in front of anyone. Others would never see this version of him. But you would.

In a swift moment, you hugged him, feeling his arms hold you stronger as his cries got louder, uglier.

Strangely, he wasn't embarrassed. He was relieved.

Relieved he could be vulnerable in front of you. Relieved he could be himself.

He couldn't hide anything from you, could he? Well, he hoped he could at least hide that ring in his socks drawer.

But not for much longer, though. After what happened, he'll wife you up was soon as possible.

But for now, only the feeling of your arms grounding him was enough.

Masterlist

[rowie264]

If someone criticizes something, it doesn't mean that they hate it. It also works the other way around. If you like something, it doesn't mean that it's done well from an objective point of view.

I love Jinx. Her design, her story, her personality, her character arc... I was just fascinated by her. Jinx has become one of my favorite characters in media in general. It was the continuation of her story that I was waiting for the most.

Jinx is still my favorite character in season 2. I love almost every scene with her. How she did Sevika's arm and the subsequent fight with the Smeech, the fight with Vi in Act 1, the prison break, search for Vander in the mines, epic appearance during the battle against Noxus.

I got a lot of positive emotions while watching s2 and especially during Jinx's appearance on the screen. But… an emotional response and objective assessment are two different things. And objectively, Jinx's character in season 2 is OOC and poorly written.

Removing very importand part of her story and personality. Her mental issues almost completely disappear. This is a very important aspect of her character. And no, Isha's presence and a "more favorable environment" would not heal her, the whole 2nd act is completely unrealistic and looks stupid, since all her problems with her mental health were magically solved off-screen;

Irrelevant piece of plot. Her arc of "Zaun symbol" passes by her - she becomes a symbol by accident, ignores the consequences and directly encounters all this revolutionary mood only during Isha's saving from Stillwater (at the same time saving her followers - an indirect action, not a purposeful one). So this arc is kinda about her, but she doesn't seem to participate in it herself, and it ends with literally nothing (like the whole Zaun revolution);

Making her more appealing to wider audience. Her hatred of Piltover and Caitlyn just disappeared. Yes, while she was with Vi in the mines she said "piltie goons who murdered mom and dad," but… that's all? Jinx doesn't kill a single enforcer in the entire 2nd season (although, for example, she could have in Stillwater) and tells Caitlyn "I didn't know your mother was there." Let me remind you that Jinx literally giggled in s1 when she killed a dozen enforcers during gemstone kidnapping, killed enforcers on the bridge without any care, she hated Caitlyn fiercely because she "stole" her sister from her, and she couldn't not know that Cassandra was a councilor. It isn't showed how and why she changed her opinion and this is important thing to her character, you can't explain such change with microexpressions or parallels;

Unrealistic happy family reunion. The reunion of Jinx, Vi, and Vander is a spectacular moment from Disney. Do you remember how Jinx reacted when Vi returned? Yes, she was happy but as soon as she spotted Cait she freaked out and immidiately thought that Vi betrayed her. Imagine what would happen if her supposedly dead - bc of her btw - father had returned and now looks like some animal;

Silco mattered much more to Jinx. A very "subtle" replacement of Silco for Vander in the role of father (Jinx calls him father, sniffs Vander's jacket and not Silco's), although Silco played probably a bigger role in this? And Jinx remembers about him like 2 times? Although it's been about 7-10 years since Vi's "death" in season 1, Jinx was still triggered by just a similar appearance. Apparently, Silco wasn't that important to Jinx (which is not true); I could still keep talking about Jinx, but let's leave it at that.

I love Jinx even in season 2. I like watching scenes with her. But my emotional attachment doesn't stop me from seeing that Jinx's character in s2 is not a continuation of Jinx's character of the end of s1. Her image is broken, the arcs are not completed, the relationships with other characters are poorly written.

[eiralunaire]

Incorrect Quotes from Damian Wayne/Reader.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

*Damian, looking at a Reader action figure in a store.*

Damian: "I need her. She's perfect. She's perfect."

*Jon, sighing next to him.*

Jon: "Damian, you already have three different versions of that figure. One even in limited edition."

Damian: "But this one has *new* details. It's an investment in my love!"

Jon: "It's an investment in madness, that's what it is."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

*Damian reading Reader fanfics on Wattpad.*

Jon, peering over Damian's shoulder: "Are you... reading Reader fanfics?"

Damian, eyes still on the screen: "It's a way for me to get closer to her. Writers understand our love."

Jon: "Damian... Are you leaving comments on those fanfics?"

Damian, very serious: "Yes, I have to correct anything that isn't true to her true essence."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

*Damian at a comic convention, dressed as Robin, but with a 'Team Reader' sign.*

Jon, raising an eyebrow: "Damian, this is already crossing the boundaries of reality."

Damian: "Only those who don't understand true love would set boundaries."

Jon: "I have a hard time understanding how you haven't realized she's... you know, fictional."

Damian, looking at the poster with pride: "Love doesn't have to be real to be true."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

*Damian buying a replica of Reader's sword from an online store.*

Jon: "Do you really need another replic of her sword?"

Damian: "This one is different. It has engravings depicting our times together."

Jon: "Damian, you *haven't* had any times together."

Damian, indignant: "That's a lie! Every time I read her comic, we go on epic adventures. You don't understand!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

*Damian watching an animated series where Reader appears, completely mesmerized.*

Jon, entering the room: "Watching the Reader series again?"

Damian: "It's not just a series, Jon. It's a masterpiece. Every scene is a poem."

Jon: "It's a cartoon series. And you obsess over it like it's real."

Damian, eyes shining: "For me, it is."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

*Damian buying a pillow with Reader's face on it.*

Jon: "Damian, this is the limit. A pillow with her face on it?"

Damian: "It's to have her close, even when I sleep. It's a basic need."

Jon, resigned: "A basic need is to breathe, Damian. Not this."

Damian: "If I can't be with her, at least I can dream about her."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

*Damian secretly writing fanfics about him and Reader.*

Jon, catching him in the middle of writing: "What are you doing?"

Damian, trying to hide the screen: "Nothing! Just... creating a masterpiece."

Jon, peeking: "Are you writing a fanfic about you and Reader?"

Damian: "It's not a fanfic! It's... our love story. One day it will be real."

Jon: "Damian, we need to have a long conversation about reality and fantasy."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This shit definitely cracks me up, you can tell i made Damian a bit Ooc but it's just to make this humorous. It reminds me of my high school self, in love with pure fictional character.

[paigebueckersmommy]

tipsy - p.b

requested by anon

paige bueckers x reader

warnings : 18+, possessiveness, drinking, fingering, semi public sex

you and paige had been messsing around for a couple months, but nothing serious. paige swore to you that you were the only girl she was hooking up with, but if that was true, why weren’t we anything more than friends with benefits?

a couple weeks ago after hooking up paige had mentioned a party to you, and asked if you were going and when you replied that you didn’t know about it, she asked you to go with her. she murmured a dirty joke with a giggle when you accepted then you playfully push her.

paige had picked you up for the party, calling you gorgeous and complimenting you the whole way there. this was what confused you, she treated you like her girlfriend.

you guys eventually wander off, nudging paige and telling her that you were going to find some friends.

half and hour later, you decide to try to find paige again, coming back down from going to the bathroom upstairs. you find her in the kitchen holding red solo cup. as you pouch her she holds eye contact with you and doesn’t look happy. “p are you okay?” you say, worried for paige. she looked mad. “did she make you cum? fingers or toung?” paige said, crocking her neck down to your height.

“paige what are you talking about? i was going to the bathroom upstairs. paige are you drunk?” you say with confusion.

paige sets down her solo cup grabbing her hand and walking fastly in front of you, leading you up the stairs and into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. she pushes you against the door l, resting her forearm on the door behind you. “paige are you sure your not drunk?” you say, trying to ignore the need between your legs you develop with paige looking at you this intensely.

paige unbottons your jean shorts, pulling them down to your mid thighs, and moves your panties to the side. paige pushes three of her lengthy fingers inside of you, without even asking you to suck on them which she loves doing. you gasp out due to the pressure on you, and paige curling her veiny hands inside of you.

“you like that you whore? am i the only one that makes you feel this good?” paige says, still keeping eye contact with you while pumping in and out of you.

“fuck yes paige your the only girl i want, holy shit i’m close” you say through moans of pleasure and screaming out paige’s name as your legs shake.

“oh yea? you’re close?” paige says, as she feels you start to clench around her fingers, when you finally release paige bends down onto her knees to lick up all your juices. she licks her fingers clean holding intense eye contact with you. paige washes her hands as you clean your self up. she pushes a passionate kiss to your lips as she walks out of the bathroom.

a couple of hours pass, as paige finds you and nudges you, signally that she’s ready to leave, you nod , agreeingly. paige opens the passanger seat door for you, you hop in and wait as paige jogs around to the drivers side.

paige gets in the car, starts the car then looks at you with a grin. “your so breautful, pretty girl.” paige says through her bright red cheeks.

“your even more beautiful p.” you say as you also start to smile. “baby will you be my girlfriend? tonight made me realize i want you. not just a casual thing. i want to be the only girl you think of, and make you cum.”

you smile, hearing those word was like music to your ears. “paige, you were already the only girl i think and epically the only girl that makes me cum.

[neitherofusideal]

A compilation of my favorite hannigram quotes, related lines or conversations throughout the series.

— Uhm... Just because?

S01E01: Apéritif

Hannibal: "God forbid we become friendly."

Will: "I don't find you that interesting."

Hannibal: "You will."

S01E04: Oeuf

Hannibal: "Feeling paternal, Will?"

Will: "Aren't you?"

Hannibal: "Yes."

S01E09: Trou Normand

Hannibal (to Will): "Who knows Abigail better than you and I? All the burden she bears. We are her fathers now. We have to serve her better than Garrett Jacob Hobbs."

S02E01: Kaiseki

Hannibal: "I miss him."

Bedelia: "You are obsessed with Will Graham."

Hannibal: "I am intrigued."

Bedelia: "Obsessively."

S02E09: Shiizakana

Hannibal (to Will): "No one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them. By that love we see potential in our beloved. Through that love, we allow our beloved to see their potential. Expressing that love, our beloved’s potential comes true. I love you, Will."

S02E10: Naka-Choko

Hannibal: "Stay with me."

Will: "Where else would I go?"

–/–

Alana: "It's just hard to know where you are with each other."

Will: "We know where we are with each other. Shouldn't that be enough?"

S02E12: Tome-wan

Will (to Hannibal): "You're right. We are just alike. You're as alone as I am. And we're both alone without each other."

–/–

Will (to Hannibal): "I bond with Abigail, you take her away. I bond with barely more than the idea of a child, you take it away. You saw to it that I alienated Alana, alienated Jack. You don't want me to have anything in my life that isn't you."

-/-

Hannibal: "Achilles lamenting the death of Patroclus. Whenever he's mentioned in the Iliad, Patroclus seems to be defined by his empathy."

Will: "He became Achilles on the field of war. He died for him there, wearing his armor."

Hannibal: "He did. Hiding and revealing identity is a constant theme throughout the Greek epics."

Will: "As are battle-tested friendships."

Hannibal: "Achilles wished all Greeks would die, so that he and Patroclus could conquer Troy alone. Took divine intervention to bring them down."

S02E13: Mizumono

Hannibal: "We could disappear now. Tonight. Feed your dogs, leave a note for Alana, and never see her or Jack again. Almost polite."

Will: "Then this would be our last supper."

Hannibal: "Of this life. I served lamb."

Will: "Sacrificial."

Hannibal: "I don't need a sacrifice, do you?"

–/–

Will: "You were supposed to leave."

Hannibal: "We couldn't leave without you."

...

Hannibal: "Time did reverse. The teacup that I shattered did come together. A place was made for Abigail in your world... You understand? A place was made for all of us, together. I wanted to surprise you. And you... you wanted to surprise me. I let you know me. See me. I gave you a rare gift. But you didn't want it."

Will: "Didn't I?"

...

Hannibal: "Do you believe you could change me, the way I've changed you?"

Will: "I already did."

Hannibal: "Fate and circumstance has returned us to this moment— when the teacup shatters. I forgive you, Will. Will you forgive me?"

S03E02: Primavera

Will: "A valentine written on a broken man."

–/–

Will: "I do feel closer to Hannibal here. God only knows where I'd be without him."

Abigail: "What did you see?"

Will: "He left us his broken heart."

Abigail: "How did he know we were here?"

Will: "He didn't. But he knew we'd come."

Abigail: "He misses us."

S03E03: Secondo

Hannibal: "He said he forgave me."

...

Bedelia: "Betrayal and forgiveness are best seen as something akin to falling in love."

Hannibal: "You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love."

–/–

Chiyoh: "How do you know Hannibal?"

Will: "One could argue intimately."

Chiyoh: "'Nakama'? It's a Japanese word for very close friends."

Will: "Yes, we were 'nakama'."

–/–

Chiyoh: "Why are you looking for him after he left you with a smile?"

Will: "I've never known myself as well as I know myself when I'm with him."

–/–

Jack: “Will Graham understands Hannibal. He accepts him. Now, who among us doesn’t want understanding and acceptance?”

–/-

Bedelia: “What your sister made you feel was beyond your conscious ability to control or predict."

Hannibal: "Or negotiate."

Bedelia: "I would suggest what Will Graham makes you feel is not dissimilar. A force of mind and circumstance.”

Hannibal: “Love. He pays you a visit or he doesn't.”

S03E04: Aperitivo

Jack: "You remember when you decided to call Hannibal?"

Will: "I wasn't decided when I called him. I just called him. I deliberated while the phone rang. I decided when I heard his voice."

Jack: "You told him we knew."

Will: "I told him to leave. 'Cause I wanted him to run."

Jack: "Why?"

Will: "Because... because he was my friend. And because I wanted to run away with him."

–/–

Dr. Chilton: "Will Graham is alive because Hannibal Lecter likes him that way."

Jack: "Maybe it's one of those friendships that ends after the disemboweling."

Dr. Chilton: "I would argue, with these two, that's tantamount to flirtation."

S03E06: Dolce

Jack: "Hannibal will slip away. Will you slip away with him?"

Will: "Part of me will always want to."

–/–

Hannibal: "If I saw you everyday, forever, Will, I would remember this time."

Will: "Strange seeing you here in front of me. Been staring at afterimages of you in places you haven't been in years."

...

Will: "I wanted to understand you... before I laid eyes on you again. I needed it to be... clear. What I was seeing."

Hannibal: "Where does the difference between the past and the future come from?"

Will: "Mine?"... "Before you and after you."

...

Will: "You and I... have begun to blur."

Hannibal: "Isn't that how you found me?"

Will: "Every crime of yours, feels like one I'm guilty of. Not just Abigail's murder, every murder. Stretching backward and forward in time."

Hannibal: "Freeing yourself from me and me freeing myself from you. They're the same."

Will: "We're conjoined. I'm curious whether either of us can survive separation."

–/–

Hannibal: "I would've liked to show you Florence, Will."

S03E07: Digestivo

Hannibal: "Do we talk about teacups and time, and the rules of the disorder?"

Will: "The teacup's broken. It's never gonna gather itself back together again."

Hannibal: "Not even in your mind?"... "Your memory palace is building, it's full of new things. It shares some rooms with my own. I've discovered you there, victorious."

Will: "When it comes to you and me, there can be no decisive victory."

Hannibal: "We are a zero-sum game?"

Will: "I miss my dogs. I'm not going to miss you. I'm not going to find you. I'm not going to look for you. I don't want to know where you are or what you do. I don't want to think about you anymore."

Hannibal: "You delight in wickedness and then berate yourself for the delight."

Will: "You delight. I tolerate... I don't have your appetite."

Will: "Goodbye, Hannibal."

–/–

Hannibal (to Will): "I want you to know exactly where I am, or where you can always find me."

S03E09: ...and the Woman Clothed with the Sun

Hannibal: "Is there a child in your life, Will? I gave you a child, if you recall."

–/–

Will: "You called us "murder husbands.""

Freddie Lounds: "You did run off to Europe together."

S03E10: ...and the Woman Clothed in Sun

Bedelia: "Have you been to see him?"

Will: "Yes."

Bedelia: "You haven't learned your lesson have you? Or did you just miss him that much?"

–/–

Bedelia (to Will): "My relationship with Hannibal isn't as passionate as yours. You are here visiting an old flame. Is your wife aware how intimately you and Hannibal know each other?"

S03E11: ...and the Beast from the Sea

Will (to Hannibal): "I'm not fortune's fool. I'm yours."

S03E12: The Number of the Beast is 666

Will: "Is Hannibal... in love with me?"

Bedelia: "Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you?... Yes. But do you ache for him?"

S03E13: The Wrath of the Lamb

Hannibal: "When life becomes maddeningly polite, think about me. Think about me, Will. Don't worry about me."

–/–

Will: "I knew you wanted me to know exactly where I could find you when I needed to."

Hannibal: "And you did."

Will: "I need you Hannibal." ... "Please."

–/–

Will: "It really does look black in the moonlight."

Hannibal: "See? This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us."

Will: "It's beautiful."

[formulafics]

★ ALL THE RUMORS ARE TRUE | DR3

Scenario: in which ferrari’s favorite girl has thing for redbull’s favorite aussie, and has no shame in it. — a social media au

Pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

A/N: Here is the second and last part to this fic! I hope you enjoy, and i’m sorry that I had to split the posts but i’ve tried tumblr on a computer and I just can’t get used to it. Also, this is my first time making the fake tweets so please ignore the little mistakes 😭

PART ONE | PART TWO -> Keep Reading

yn_ferrari

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, redbullracing, georgerussel63, and 457,389 others

yn_ferrari While I don’t normally post about other drivers victories, I wanted to congratulate @/danielricciardo today! An absolutely epic win, and most definitely deserved one. So proud of you. Ily ❤️

danielricciardo Thank you so much, yn. It’s an honor to be on the same track as you. Ily more!

norrisnation what does this mean? daniel-yn confirmed?

⤷ f1obssessed i mean…between her tweet, this post, and daniel’s response, i’d say it’s obvious

liked by yn_ferrari

⤷ mv1defender i need y’all to be fr. she’s literally just congratulating him on a win and y’all have your panties in a twist

⤷ levelupleclerc the only other person she’s congratulated like this was charles, and we know they’re close so i’d say, based off of the other stuff, this is just another sign that she and daniel are more than friends

charles_leclerc sad to see that i’m not the only driver you congratulated anymore

⤷ yn_ferrari you may not be the only one, but you were the first one 😌

yn_ferrari

liked by danielricciardo, lando.jpg, charles_leclerc, georgerussel63, logansargeant, and 657,351 more

yn_ferrari Happy one year to my most favorite human! I love you more than anything. I cant believe I managed to keep my mouth shut this whole time, but i’m so glad that I get to make posts like these now. Many more to come, and many more years with you, honey.

danielricciardo Who’s cutting onions in the redbull meeting room? I love you so much, baby.

⤷ dannyricworld IM GONNA SOB this is so sweet

landonorris A year of being a third wheel. Can’t believe I made it. Congratulations to you both ❤️

liked by charles_leclerc and maxverstappen1

formulaoneacc idk about you guys, but they are my parents

ynswife A YEAR? A YEAR? AND WE ONLY GENUINELY STARTED THINK YOU GUYS WERE TOGETHER A FEW WEEKS AGO?

⤷ gpierre10 idk who “we” is, but i’ve been calling this since october last year

⤷ levelupleclerc LITERALLY. i’ve been rooting for them since the beginning

[sagegreenconverse73946]

Analysis of Would You Fall In Love With Me Again

No no because you don't understand . . . .

There's like 3 ways I look at Penelope and Odysseus's reunion in Would You Fall in Love with Me Again

One:

Odysseus is pleading with her, begging her to understand that he is not the same man she married. He's done horrendous things, he is void of mercy and compassion. He. Is. Not. Odysseus. And that's why he's asking her if she would fall in love with him after knowing all the things he's done. He thinks she will have to fall in love with a different person. And hearing this instead of Penelope going like, " I don't care about what you've done; you're home now. That's all that matters." She instead asks him "What have you done?" she knows that he just has to get it out there, and once he does, once he thinks he's cemented to her that he's not Odysseus, Penelope's response is that "If that's true, if your not my husband, if your nothing more than a monster and not Odysseus, than do me a favor to bring me some peace and move our wedding bed away from here." And we've established that the wedding bed, the olive tree, is a symbol of their love, so Penelope's really asking, "If that's true and you're not my husband anymore, then destroy our love and cast it away." AND WHEN ODYSSEUS GOES, "How could you say this? Do you realize what you have asked me? The only way to move it is to cut it from ITS ROOTS!" which translates to "How could you say this? Do you realize you have asked me to destroy our marriage? The only way to move it is to KILL OUR LOVE!!"

AND ITS SO IMPACTFUL BECAUSE PENELOPE IS PROVING TO HIM THAT EVEN IF HE HAS CHANGED, HE IS STILL HER HUSBAND BECAUSE HER HUSBAND WOULDN'T DARE TO DESTROY THEIR LOVE AND CUT ITS ROOTS, AND THE MAN IN FRONT OF HER DOESN'T DARE EITHER, IN FACT HE'S ENRAGED THAT SHE'D ASK HIM TO FORSAKE THEIR LOVE, TO DO THE IMPOSSIBLE. BECAUSE IF HE TRULY WASN'T ODYSSEUS ANYMORE HE WOULDN'T HOLD THAT LEVEL OF LOVE FOR PENELOPE ANYMORE. AND THAT'S WHY SHE SAYS

"Only my husband knew that, so I guess that makes him YOU!!"

Penelope dismantled his whole argument. He asked if she would fall in love with him again, the new monstrous man that holds Odysseus's face. Penelope proved she didn't have to fall in love with him again, since he is still the man she knew, because if he wasn't the man she fell in love with, than that monster would have been able to destroy their wedding bed, and cut the roots of their love. But he is, because the man she married can't destroy their love, ODYSSEUS can't destroy their love,

their love is such a vital essence of his being that no matter what, if he still holds love for Penelope he is still Odysseus.

AND PENELOPE STILL SAYS SHE WILL FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM OVER AND OVER AGAIN

Two:

More Odyssey-accurate, I think. (I haven't read it through yet so I might need to eat my words)

Penelope asks, "Is that really you?" and it could be that she thinks its a trick at first, someone's disguised themselves as Odysseus mortal or god so she tests him. She asks him to do something only Odysseus and her knew was impossible, because for one man to cut down an Olive tree embedded into a palace alone is, quite literally, IMPOSSIBLE. If he had agreed and failed, mortal disguised as Odysseus. Succeeded? God.

Flabbergasted that she'd ask that of him? Odysseus.

Three:

EPIC Odysseus is the #1 Wife Guy, so when his wife asked him to do something that he physically COULDN'T, he broke down because GODS, NO, I'M A HORRIBLE HUSBAND BECAUSE I CAN'T FULFILL MY WIFE'S WISHES AND BRING HER SOME PEACE BUT PENELOPE WTF HOW COULD YOU ASK THAT OF ME AND EXPECT ME TO ACHIEVE IT?!?!?!

But yep, how I interpret those lines, honestly, I think its a mixture of all three MAINLY of perspective 1, a little bit of perspective 2, but l think despite Penelope's brain being like "We have to make sure." every essence of her being already knew it was him, and a slight hint of perspective 3 because it's funny.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk!!!

(pls discuss this with me if you want in the comments, guys I'm going insane)

[betterthanyalls]

Hey! I liked your Epic x reader! The one where Zeus kiddnaped Y/N and Athena fought for them and Odysseus!

Can I request a Epic!Hera x Reader

Even tho the gods couldn’t do anything to help, I can still feel like Hera had a liking to reader, they weren’t like the other ‘scamps’ that Zeus seduced.

I feel like Hera would comfort Reader and became their friend during the Seven years they were held captive.

Platonic or Romantic- your pick :D

AAAAAAAAAAAA HI HI HI HI IM SO SORRY WITH THE LATENESS BUT I LOVED THIS also im sorry for how short this was :sobs: it was meant to be like an interlude/minor pt 2 ANYWAYS THANK YOU SM I LOVE YOU THIS IS A GREAT ASK

Part 1

Masterlist

Stolen Soldier PT2

Hera [p] x Reader

EPIC: The Musical ~ Oneshot ~ Comfort/Angst

Words: 503

Published: 12/10/2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the corner of a dark, unlit room, whimpering sobs were being produced. A young mortal cowered in fear, shaking uncontrollably while trying to bite back their anguish. 

The door slowly opened to the dark room, providing a haunting light to cascade over the entire area. Y/n choked out a terrified cry, coiling herself further into the corner to try and remain as small as possible.

Instead of the king god she expected, Hera walked in slowly, gently shutting the door behind herself. The queen held her hands up as if to show she had no weapon and walked towards Y/n as if the mortal was a wild animal. She may as well have been a rabid creature with how little of humanity she had left.

“I won’t hurt you, my darling." The queen comforted softly, crouching down in front of Y/n.

Y/n bit back another sob, watching the goddess’ hands and movement like life or death. She wanted to push Hera away to fight back, to try and keep any safety she could find. Y/n knew the stories of Hera, yet that wasn’t the only thing making her keep distance. How could Y/n ever trust a pair of hands again, divine hands at that? “My husband is still with the other gods in his meeting; he won’t be back for a while. I know it’s not your fault for being here," the goddess of marriage explained soothingly. “I do not wish to hurt you.”

“Why-” Her sentence was cut off as another cry escaped her throat. Tears fell like a broken fountain down her cheeks. “Why are you here?” The mortal managed to question, her voice hiccuping. 

“I am the goddess of women; of course I know the pains you bear."

Something in the goddess’ tone made Y/n feel a little better, comforting her. Hera opened her arms, offering an embrace of heavenly love. Y/n hesitated, unsure whether she could trust the touch of another. But the queen’s gaze was so calm and loving, it was impossible not to be drawn in.

Warily, the young woman crawled over, at once being encircled by holy hands. The true love and safety overwhelmed Y/n. It had been so long since the hands who touched her weren’t filled with uncaring lust. 

Hera rubbed gentle circles on the woman’s back, ignoring her newly wet shoulder. Y/n tried not to cry loudly, but it was getting increasingly difficult. The two ladies sat on the marble flooring of a cluttered room. 

The tune of an ancient hymn explored the room quietly, as if searching for someone to hold warmly. Cascading upon the mortal’s ears, the beautiful rhythm began to enclose her mind, providing the exhaustion she oh-so craved. 

Gradually, Y/n shut her eyes and sighed softly, her sobs quieting to soft sniffles. Bit by bit, her tired mind began to falter, providing the lulling space she desired so much.  “Sleep well, my little bird. You’re safe here.”

[midnight-in-town]

Ao no Exorcist is a Shonen series written by a woman and it shows

Since the latest chapter, I've been thinking about how several usual Shonen tropes are written rather differently under Kato-sensei's pen. No judgement or anything, it's just cool to observe. Some examples :

1) Rin's mentor is a woman

2) Rin's secret, despite being the MC, was revealed in ch13 to the entire cast, meanwhile Shiemi, The Main Girl, who was introduced to be so helpless is only starting to be explained.

3) Also, the Mysterious plot-relevant Shonen Parent is actually the twins' mother. (Of course Shiro is super plot-relevant too, but Satan is still angsting over Yuri and she's a huge part of the reason why he's the big bad)

4) Rin also changed his view about his future throughout the story: from dropping out of school, passing by hoping to become the Order's Paladin (probably to cope with Shiro's death and also to antagonize Arthur), to finally showing way more interest and potential in the (less epic and heroic in appearance) field of talismanic cooking.

5) When it comes to arcs, mental illness is a valid reason to build a character arc around...

6) And so is making an arc about girls being "cursed" to basically "get married and have children before they hit 30, the age where their beauty fade thus they become useless" :

7) ANE is a story about women becoming traitors to protect their loved ones, like Mamushi

or becoming overwhelmed because men toyed with their feelings like Tamamo

8) Older women can be absolute badasses like Shiemi's grandma

or Lucy.

9) Complicated mother-daughter relationship and girl friendships are given as much focus as complicated father-son relationships and sweet bro friendships (like Bon and his dad during the Kyoto arc, as well as the complicated but deep bond between the Kyoto Trio)

10) And one of my favorites: full time single dad, asking for help to do the job as well as he can and finding his true purpose in life by doing so :D

Hmm and now that I think about it, the only other Shonen series written by a woman I've been as invested in is Kuroshitsuji, by Yana Toboso, and similar examples can be found in it too, namely:

1) If Ciel ever finally admits needing a mentor, his aunt Frances will probably play that role

2) Girls can be super strong & skilled (Elizabeth, Mey Rin) and clever (Sieglinde)

3) (one part of) the Big Bad is a woman (Queen Victoria)

4) maybe Ciel's entire revenge stems from a conflict between Queen Victoria and Ciel's maternal grandmother, Claudia.

5) the Undertaker has been a continuously freaking pain in the ass because he probably fell in love with that same maternal grandmother and couldn't mourn properly

TL;DR we love our boys and their spectacular growth and development under women's pens a.k.a shonen series written by ladies are hella fun to read. :D

[felikatze]

Euphrasie and the End

A Deep Dive into the Head Housemaiden and her symbolic meaning

Introduction

Spoilers for the whole game, and also the prologue, by the way.

Hello everybody. You may know me from that other post about Euphrasie or maybe the ludonarrative essay or the QOL one. No matter the case, today I return to my favorite side character, Euphrasie, the Head Housemaiden.

This all starts with a central thesis you're likely to be familiar with.

Euphrasie represents the end. In the most literal sense, she is where every journey ends. She is the representation of Siffrin's fears. With every repetition, Siffrin grows to dread and fear the sight of her, more than they ever do facing down the King again.

And I want to look at that.

The Damsel

It's a tale as old as time. The big bad has kidnapped the lovely princess! Everyone, we must save her! And so, our epic tale begins, as Mario chases after Peach and Link vows to return and save Zelda -

That, quite obviously, is Euphrasie. Albeit not your traditional princess, she's still a female figure with great importance to our protagonist. (Our protagonist, quite obviously, being Mirabelle.)

Mirabelle's entire journey begins with her fleeing the House and embarking on an adventure with one goal - return home, and free everyone. ISAT invokes many many many stereotypical RPG tropes.

It uses those tropes by going, well, you know how the story goes, let's get right into the meat of it, yeah? Because ISAT is a story that only works on the precipice of an ending. It's the last dungeon! We're back in starter town, transformed by the big bad, and now we gotta take it back. (Like, do I have to invoke Ocarina of Time, or something? You know how it goes, you've seen this story before.)

Siffrin isn't afraid of the journey, the intro makes that blatantly clear all on its own. This entire journey is, quite literally, the happiest Siffrin can ever remember being.

He doesn't want it to end.

The story ends when you save the damsel. She will reward the heroes (usually with a kiss, but this time with a hug), thank them for their efforts, and then the credits roll. If we want to stay here and be pedantic, we can pull examples out of our hats all day for this trope as old as time.

Euphrasie is the end, not just within the context of the game's individual story, but for its type of story. Pretty woman, trapped by the bad guy, last person to be saved, emotional importance to the protagonist, dramatically awaits the rescue by her dashing protagonist after giving her the magic ocarina blessing to give Mirabelle her Special Protagonist Power that makes her super special and immune to the bad guy.

Euphrasie also gets the addition of being the wise mentor, combining tropes a bit, though I don't think it's uncommon for mentor figures to be the kidnappees either, even if the example I'm thinking of first is Eyvel from Thracia 776. (And you see once again, that I am incapable of thinking outside of Fire Emblem comparisons.)

So, simply from her role alone, we expect her to be the story's natural conclusion, but the setting helps that point, too. It's the rooftop of the final dungeon. Very obvious location, yeah?

The game's structure also builds anticipation into meeting her. Here and there, you hear about her from Mirabelle. And, right before facing the King, that's when Mirabelle talks about Euphrasie in-depth, how Euphie should've been the chosen one. We've got a lot of ideas about Euphrasie now, we're thinking about her as we go into the final boss.

And Siffrin dies. Duh.

We're so close to the end, and it's torn away from us. We need to get to it, get to her. Finally get past the King to meet her.

She's the conclusion. And in this moment, she is the goal, too.

Speaking of the King, though --

The True Final Boss

As Siffrin faces the King again and again, they grow less scared. More jaded. If you die to him thrice (or play START AGAIN), you get the option to say "Let's just get right to it", and skip his entire monologue.

After all, you've beaten him once. You can do it again. So who cares about him, yeah? Facing him only gets easier and easier as the game progresses. The King may be scary still in some story aspects, but in gameplay? Not a chance.

ACT 4 doesn't end with him. It ends with her.

As Siffrin faces Euphrasie again and again -

(No, no, no, she could've answered your questions, why?!?)

(Even though you asked for something different at the start of this conversation...)

(WHY IS SHE REPEATING THE EXACT SAME THING?!?)

Siffrin (yelling4): "JUST TALK TO ME!!!

Talking to her again makes her scarier, because Siffrin may have gotten past the King, but he's never gotten past her. For all intents and purposes, Euphrasie is the final boss of the story.

Again, ACT 4 - Siffrin's deepest moment of despair, confirmation of ultimate failure, is her.

Speaking of final bosses...

They both cut a rather striking silhouette, don't they?

Yes, yes, islander theory, white hair. That's an in-universe theory though, but the point is, it does make them look similar. They both have long cascading white hair, they're both extremely tall. They are both similar yet different in appearance.

Euphrasie is rounded where the King is jagged, namely. Soft where he is imposing. But those similarities still remain. Contrasting figures that only enhance the similarities all the more.

(I felt utterly insane for seeing this, but. Do you see it. DO YOU??) (Like. Outside of any theory stuff, her being the only person to have white hair beside King and Siffrin, long white hair to boot, has thematic signifcance as well, yes?)

[Side note: Yes, it is utterly irrelevant here that insertdisc5 said her hair is dyed, because it is STILL a striking resemblance of character design that can be interpreted with symbolic meaning, thank you~)

The trangles.

Though she may overshadow the King as the Endpoint past ACT 2 in ISAT, she does not in START AGAIN.

In START AGAIN, the ending beyond does not exist, for all intents and purposes. The endpoint was pulled forward. Whereas ISAT Siffrin's true dread sets in after beating the King, in SASASAP, it does so in the break room right before facing him.

Or, well, the resignation.

In In Stars and Time:

Siffrin (fake1): "Hi." Siffrin (fake1): "You can start breaking down now." Euphrasie (sorry1): Breaking down...? What do you...

In Start Again:

(You wonder how everyone will die this time.) (Will the King beat them with Craft until they are no more?) (Will he freeze them in time, unable to move or breathe for all eternity?) (How will YOU meet your end?) (In blood and stars maybe... In tears and time perhaps...)

The natural acceptance that, (you can look at the title of this again) this is the end. That there is no getting past this. They are both the last obstacle that can never be overcome, between the games.

Hell, just COMPARE SAP's true ending to like, the end of ACT 4.

Siffrin awakens in the meadow. Everything was in vain. Everything was useless.

Siffrin finally, after a thousand loops or even more, beat the King. This is supposed to be the end, but it's not. So, this proves once and for all that there is no escape. They're trapped here forever.

They built it up for so long in their head that all they have to do is beat the King, and then the suffering's over.

And in ACT 4... Siffrin builds it up for so long in their head... All they have to do is ask the Head Housemaiden about Wish Craft. That's it. That's the answer! After that, it's the end! It'll be over! He just needs to do this one thing...

Loop (away1): ...Is that so? But, didn't you already-- Siffrin (unhinged1): "It is so!" Siffrin (unhinged1): "I might be able to break the loop, somehow!" Loop (away1): ... Siffrin (unhinged1): "You know, it might just be that I need to make everyone's wish come true! And everything will be back to normal!" Siffrin (unhinged1): "If I talk to her, she'll know, she'll be able to tell me what to do..." Siffrin (unhinged4): "If I can just talk to her...!"

And is wrong, of course. They wake up in the meadow and despair. So, this proves once and for all that there is no escape. They're trapped here forever.

Siffrin: "Or, or does it mean-- It means--" Siffrin: "It means I'm stuck here for good, aren't I?" Siffrin: "Forever?" Loop: ... Loop: . . . (. . .) Siffrin: (No.) "You think I'm stuck here forever."

It's the exact same mindset with different characters representing the end point. The parallel becomes even more evident in that Siffrin's very last manic shot at victory is the exact thing that proved Loop's failure - supposing that the King is the true end point.

Yet it's also different, in what these two characters represent.

The King is very much a representation of the past. His fate in ACT 5 ultimately proves what it means to refuse to let go - being frozen in time is both a metaphor and very literal. He's stuck in the past, by choice. He could've lived and chosen to embrace Vaugarde and move on, but he didn't.

Y'know, he's a bad end Siffrin, metaphorically (albeit not literally. Narrative mirrors and all.) He's what Siffrin would end up like if they never learned their lesson. If they keep refusing to let go of the past... and embrace the future.

Euphrasie's Agency and lack thereof

To Siffrin, there is no future. They can't conceive of what happens after this journey. So, the character marking the endpoint of the journey, and the start of a new chapter in Siffrin's life, cannot see a future either.

It's... fascinating, to me. How Euphrasie is a vessel of Siffrin's insecurities by force. Siffrin's Wish has taken hold of her. It's using her as a stop, on purpose.

Odile (worried2): Because... Talking to you... Means our journey to save Vaugarde is really over, isn't it? Odile (gimme1): And for you, Siffrin, it also meant all of us going our separate ways, doesn't it? Isabeau (angry1): The very thing the loops were trying to stop...

(Points at my first point about Euphrasie being the Damsel, and thus the natural endpoint of any given RPG. Hey. Hey do you see how obvious this is yet.)

Euphrasie seems to have some sort of ability to feel Wish Craft, or the Universe, or Change, or whatever. She knows what her role in this play is, most of the time. "I can feel it! We both know this! It's all over when you talk to me!"

(IT'S ALL OVER WHEN YOU TALK TO HER.)

What she says mirrors what Siffrin thinks about her. This becomes most obvious only in retrospect, looking once again at the ACT 4 finale.

Euphrasie always says the same thing, because she is the end and the end can neither change nor ever arrive, but she can only say something new in one circumstance.

Siffrin (angry4): (You just wish she would ANSWER YOU!!!!!!) "Now that you know, now that I know, you can fix it!!!" Euphrasie (ending3): . . . Euphrasie (ending3): Fix it?

When Siffrin wishes for her to. Her capability to act in new ways is directly controlled by Siffrin's desire. Since the entire loops are caused by their subconscious desire to stay with everyone, she fulfills the role of keeping everyone together.

Thinking back on what she says...

"I know you thought your quest was over, but it can't be."

Your quest. Yes, quest is also used in a general story context, especially in fantasy, but Quest has long since become a well-established term in video games of all stripes. Sidequests, Main quest, hey, isn't it weird how ISAT refers to all its storylines as quests?

Friendquests being the obvious example. Fetch Quest, Companion Quest, Tutorial Quest, Really? He doesn't need your help with a quest?

But outside of that... I know I just know these terms because of my script wizard activities, but every storyline is a quest. Kingquest. Loopquest. Friendquest.

There's any number of words that could be chosen ("journey" probably being most prominent) and yet she says quest. By using a term inoxerably tied to video games by this point, she's saying "I know you thought the game was over, but it can't be."

And see how the game uses glitched imagery and static to represent everything breaking down, both at the end of every loop, and in ACT 5. This imagery is just confusing and means nothing to the characters, but is very obvious if you are Playing A Game.

The fuzzy static of an old TV, the bars of screen corruption, random symbols in text, the distorted music like a malfunctioning cassette tape…

If I may be so bold as to harken back to one of my own previous essays... The timeloop is the game.

It all ends when you talk to her. Everything ends when you talk to her. The goddamn game ends when you talk to her for the last time.

I got a bit of track here from the point, which is- her agency.

As we've established, she functions as Siffrin's own stop, on purpose. She can only act independently when Siffrin wishes her to.

And her not doing so is the beginning marker of everything breaking down in ACT 5, as well.

When Mirabelle interrupts her usual greeting speech, Euphrasie reacts differently immediately. She takes a look at Siffrin, diagnoses them with Craft overusage, and says they just need rest.

"But he'll be fine, now that the battle is over."

But, as usual, she can... sense what's happening.

"Every time I've tried to reach out and feel what's happening, I sense... Chaos..." "It feels like something is... Rotting..."

Mirabelle: "...?" Isabeau: "Rotting...?" Euphrasie: "I know you thought your quest was over, but it can't be! Something's broken, something's failing, rotting!"

She even skips back and forwards between all her different lines, everything Siffrin expects of her and has memorized by now, when we've seen that she was acting differently just a moment before.

It's Siffrin's wish kicking in again that marks the final straw once more, their clashing desire to stay in the loop against his desparate will to escape, resulting in Euphrasie being torn between who she actually is (acting new! moving forward!) against what Siffrin needs her to be.

(you're still stuck here) (but isn't it fine?) (eternity is within your grasp)

Mentioning eternity even harkens back both to the King ("I just want eternity.") AND the ACT 4 ending ("To know you'll be trapped for all eternity, Siffrin... I am so sorry!!!").

Again, like, Euphrasie's agency being torn from her, falling back into that old pattern, is what marks Siffrin realizing he's been wishing for eternity this entire time. It's written on the wall all over ACT 4.

Like, literally, textually, if you choose to pray to the intact Change God statue in ACT 4, Siffrin's prayer is "(You wish for eternity.)"

Because in the course of all these loops, Siffrin has been denying everyone's agency. Euphrasie is just the most prominent example. In ACT 5, by wishing for eternity, what Siffrin has (accidentally) forced onto Euphrasie all this time, he is trying to force onto everyone.

Whether or not Euphrasie is allowed to be a person is a direct marker of Siffrin's ability to escape the loop. It's only over when she's allowed to be free.

Euphrasie is the first person in the ending to mention going home.

"Finally, you'll all be able to go home!!!"

But in ACT 6, she doesn't. She doesn't mention going home at all. Instead, she tells everyone a new story. One Siffrin's never heard before.

Allowing Euphrasie to be free turns her back into the symbol of change that she's supposed to be. I'm repeating myself, but it truly is her change that is the definite, 100% sure marker that Siffrin is free, too. That the future is here.

Why are circles a symbol of change, anyway?

In me saying, Euphrasie symbolized stagnation, until Siffrin allows her to stand for the future again, it is irony. It is immense irony that the Head Housemaiden of Change Itself turns into a symbol of endings and stagnation through Siffrin's denial.

And, on the topic of irony, I ask you:

When the hell are circles a symbol of change???

You know. Circles. The things that famously represent cycles (wow, wonder if those words are related), repetition, infinity and eternity.

Isn't that weird. Isn't that ironic. The entire symbology of the House of Change is supposed to represent, well, Change, but just amounts to representing cycles (yknow, THE LOOPS. LITERAL TIME CYCLES.) through the recontextualization of Siffrin's experience with them.

Even the Change God doesn't oppose the time loops, instead being excited for how Siffrin changes as everything else stays the same.

The circle symbol is a witty act of irony from a design standpoint, and one I must only applaud, because why the hell didn't I see that sooner.

No, like, for real. If anybody knows some real life religion or culture where circles represent change and new beginnings instead of revolutions or the turn of seasons or the cycle of life and all that stuff. Please do tell me about it? I'm not omnipotent.

But generally, the irony of Euphrasie carries forward into the irony of the Change religion as in-universe these are symbols of change, but out of universe, to us, the players, they're symbols of repetition. Just like how to everybody else Euphie is a change, but to Siffrin she is stagnation. (Re: my other essay where I compare Siffrin to a video game player and the timeloops to a video game and I go on a whole metanarrative tangent.)

This plays into the metanarrative! Making meaning to the characters and to us incongruent! And it's cool as fuck, what can I say.

To cap off, let's compare what she says in every normal loop, and ACT 6, won't we?

Euphrasie (smiling4): Finally, you'll all be able to go home!!! Euphrasie (smiling3): If there's anything the House of Dormont can do to thank you... Please do not hesitate. Euphrasie (thankyou1): But for now... Bask in the feeling of a job well done!!!

And, in ACT 6….

Euphrasie (smiling2): I'm sure you must have a lot to talk about with everyone. Euphrasie (smiling1): But be sure to talk to me when you're all done! Euphrasie (smiling4): So I can happily bless you and your companions' new journey!!!

A Plain Ol' Euphrasie Character Analysis

Heyo, that finishes my essay on Euphrasie's symbolic meaning about narrative and shit! But...

It feels kind of mean, to write so much about what her agency and lack thereof represent, without actually talking about who she is. I didn't mention that a lot, see, because it's not important. Because that part's not important to Siffrin, because during the timeloops, Siffrin doesn't see her as a person.

So. Let's talk about her! Who is she? What is she like? What does she do?

Personality

The Good and the Funny

She's really funny. I mean it. Generally, she loves to joke around, and she has this ojou-sama style "Ohoho~" laugh that I find utterly delightful.

Siffrin (tired2): "But you might know something about--" Euphrasie (smiling4): Ohohoho! Euphrasie (smiling4): Sorry, I know nothing until you talk to your friends! Euphrasie (smiling3): And quite honestly, it is a little funny to see you get steamed about this, ohoho!

So many things in this bit. This is from when you try to talk to her before all the others in a regular loop. The reason she doesn't talk back first is of course because of the whole Agency thing (see above), but also, it's funny for her to take the piss.

Yet her wanting Siffrin to talk to everyone else first also shows that she's a very considerate person! This is The Saviours' Big Moment, and she is dying to talk to Mirabelle's new friends, but she doesn't want to take away from that. She's gonna give them her moment, and only butt in once all the hugs and tears and cheers have been had.

You can see this in ACT 5, too. She doesn't pass out or anything when Siffrin smacks her away, she just recognizes that her presence is upsetting to Siffrin, she doesn't know them or their problems, so she's gonna step back and let them figure it out themselves.

Euphrasie (smiling4): Ohohoho! Don't worry about me, everyone! Mirabelle (awawa1): H-Head Housemaiden! You're okay!!! Euphrasie (smiling3): I am! I was staying away for a little bit. Euphrasie (thankyou1): You all seemed like you needed to talk, so I was patiently waiting for you all to finish your conversation! Bonnie (serious1): That's very considerate of you. Isabeau (hahaha1): It IS very considerate of you!

She even during the hand holding scene is SO considerate that she doesn't speak up and include herself until Odile asks her to join in. Which might be a bit much, actually.

Odile (lol2): Fine. Let's hold hands, then. (Odile takes Bonnie's hand.) Odile (yeah1): Head Housemaiden? Euphrasie (thankyou1): Oh! Yes, of course!

That lil "Oh!" showing she's surprised to be adressed and included in this conversation.

Anyways, the previous exchange also gives us two OTHER delightful facts about her.

Euphrasie (smiling3): I haven't had this much fun since reading the last issue of "The Cursing of Château Castle"!!!

Meaning:

She's a bit of an adrenaline junkie, and considers getting slapped across the room "fun"

The coveted last issue of Cursing of Chateau Castle in the pottery room is hers.

Delightful woman. I love her.

She's also pretty frank! She talks a lot in snappy phrases and witticisms. She's kind and patient, for one, but really not afraid to mince words.

Euphrasie (smiling4): I thought we all knew that the Change God is a pretty lazy deity! Bonnie (wait1): Wow... Odile (urgh1): Isn't that a sacrilegious thing to say...?

Really makes me like her all the more that secondhand, she comes across as graceful, larger than life, almost, and then she simply doesn't care all that much about propriety and what someone of her station is actually supposed to be like. It really fits in with the Change Belief and the ethos of being true to yourself that she doesn't bend herself like that.

I'll also continue to be delighted that she described the King defeating her as knowing that "[she] was toast", just, she's just so casual.

Guilt and Responsibility

In more serious matters. The guilttttttt.

Yeah, she's casual, but she still obviously puts a lot of focus on her responsibility to the people of the House, of Dormont. We know that she was preparing for the King to arrive. She was studying Wish Craft, she was contemplating counter measures. She was making charts of who wished what to figure out whether this could stop him.

(...The Head Housemaiden...) (She's the one who wrote this. She knows about Wish Craft.) (She knew something was wrong, this whole time.) (She might know... How to...)

There's a degree of paranoia evident that we don't see in any of her time onscreen, but you can wonder what it says about a woman to have a deadly rock trap in front of her office.

AND she doesn't have her key out in the open, she has it taped to the underside of her desk drawer. Not an infallible hiding spot, but still hidden, and not just stored.

The other people in the House were all also revealed to be the ones locking doors in the party's path, hoping that it would stop the King.

Bonnie (sad1): . . .You know, I was wondering... Bonnie (sulk2): Like, the King clearly closed this door, and put the Tears in our way... Bonnie (sad1): But the... But the locked doors, weren't they... Mirabelle (sad2): ... Odile (dotdotdot2): Yes... We were wrong. Odile (dotdotdot1): They were most likely locked by residents of the House.

Speaking of people hoping to stop the King, she has a mountain of notes on him in her office as well.

(Some notes about the King.) (The Head Housemaiden must've been looking for more information about him...)

She hid her key, trapped her door, and before that, gathered information on the King and how to counter him. So, let me ask, do you think she improvised her blessing?

Mirabelle (excited1): She's also a great Crafter! She always creates wonderful items that makes everyone's lives easer! Mirabelle (awkward2): She taught me so much... Most of the Craft skills I know, I learned from her.

She's a skilled Crafter to boot, eh?

Looking at this, I don't really think so. Beneath that jolly front, she is a logical and pragmatic woman. Looking at her ability to specifically counter the King's Curse in context of how much we know she prepared for his arrival, I believe she prepped this blessing beforehand. Whether she actually finished it, I don't know, but she had to pick Mirabelle as a subject for it quickly and under duress.

Mirabelle wasn't the ideal choice. She was the logical choice.

Euphrasie (smiling3): Well, I only had the strength to bless one person, and I was already toast, and you were almost out of the House when the King attacked... Euphrasie (smiling3): So, really, you were the only logical choice!

There are some more emotional reasons for the pick, which I'll go into later when talking about Mira, but, still. She mentions this first, before going into Mirabelle's virtues as a person.

Plus, Claude (who will also get a section later), is the person closest to the King and Euphie. She's got the Secret Ingredient for the bomb on her, and had obviously been working on making a Craft Bomb beforehand, as discovered by the gizmo gadget in her room.

Combined, we can surmise that Euphie and Claude were both making different preparations to counter the King, with Euphie focusing on Craft both by studying Wish Craft and working on a Craft to nullify the King's Curse, whereas Claude just worked on a bomb to blow him the fuck up.

Euphrasie was, simply put, working to protect the people she cared for. It's her responsibility.

And she failed.

LET'S TALK ABOUT HER GUILT!!! WOOOO!!!!

When you talk to the people in Dormont during Loopquest, some of them mention the Head Housemaiden also asking them about their wishes, but none of them know why. This implies that Euphrasie was covert in her research, likely not sharing her information either because she was unsure of its verity, or to not cause undue panic. The only other person we see with less than impromptu countermeasures is, after all, literally just Euphrasie's girlfriend, who would be the number one person Euphie would confide in about this stuff.

Even then, though, there is no concrete evidence that she did confide in Claude, outside of Claude preparing the bomb, which is circumstantial at best. Really, did she not have any issues with Siffrin's treatment of her in ACT 5, or did she just swallow it down out of pragmatism?

Can we be sure that it's sincere, when she brushes off Siffrin's worry for her?

Siffrin (US_guilty2): "You said the things you always say when I come and talk to you." Siffrin (US_guilty2): "About how the world is rotting." Siffrin (US_sad1): "And you can't do anything to help." Euphrasie (sorry3): Hm... Euphrasie (smiling4): Interesting! I don't feel like saying it now, though! Euphrasie (smiling1): Or at all! The wind feels nice and fresh. Euphrasie (smiling4): It just feels like a beautiful day, doesn't it?

After all, in the loops themselves... She's the first to notice it, every time. She knows, deep within her bones, that something's wrong, and that it's her fault.

It's especially potent symbolically, that the phrase she never gets to finish is "I hope you can learn to forgive us."

Which is a phrase that received a slight change from its comic counterpart:

"I hope you can learn to forgive me."

Regardless of the me versus us, she, with the most intimate knowledge of Wish Craft right next to the King, directed the people of Vaugarde's wish, and knows that Siffrin ended up as the Wish's subject. She can't know that this is a side effect of Siffrin's wish being entangled with her own, but she does know her own wish is involved.

She starts crying. She's disraught. She breaks down.

Euphrasie (ending2): I can't fix it on my own, not before it all ends... If only I had noticed sooner!!! Euphrasie (ending1): I should've seen it, prevented it!!!

She says that she should have seen this and prevented it. It was her responsibility to do this, and she failed.

Euphrasie (ending2): It's my fault that you have to suffer like this.

Again, she was the only one who knew, the only one who could have ever possibly had any shot of defeating the King before things got too bad. But she fucked up, he stormed in before she could prepare properly, and she squarely lost whatever confrontation might've occured between her and the King.

Euphrasie: Something goes wrong, every time!!! Euphrasie: If you're here now, asking about Wish Craft, then something must be wrong, isn't it? This isn't the first time you've gotten this far, isn't it?!? Euphrasie: It shouldn't be like this... Why does time loop back, even though the King has been defeated?!? Euphrasie: The only answer I can find... Is it's because we did it wrong.

She's responsible, pragmatic to the point of paranoia, and it wasn't enough. Of course she feels guilt. A lot of it. After all, she believes that she personally has doomed someone to eternal stagnation. That she has caused all of Vaugarde to be trapped, and for one person to suffer for it. That she caused all of Siffrin's suffering.

It's so odd to me that she manages to immediately grasp that Siffrin is in a timeloop. It could be Siffrin's wish using her as a mouthpiece, it could be that weird innate connection to the Universe she seems to have, it could be her own immediate deduction on the logic of Wish Craft, or it could be a combination of all three.

But point is, she recognizes Siffrin's looping without having to ever be told about it. And I do not think that goes away, even in ACT 5 & 6. It's just not the time and place for her to speak on her own struggles right now, not when Siffrin is finally getting the help that she cannot provide. Not when she can recognize that she is the conductor of everything that just occured, which, again, nearly broke the entire work.

Euphrasie: If only... If only we had fought back against the King, instead! If only we didn't wish for such a thing! Euphrasie: If only I knew this would happen, if I had noticed it sooner, I would never have let people wish at all!!! Euphrasie: To know you'll be trapped for all eternity, Siffrin... I am so sorry!!! Euphrasie: It's our fault, all of Vaugarde, that you have to suffer like this!!!

She gathered her intel and made her bet. She just made the wrong one.

(Yet what she never seems to recognize is that this had to happen. That without the timeloops, yeah, the King wouldn't have been defeated! The country would have been frozen!)

(But that doesn't mean anything, does it. When she had to take away Change Itself from some innocent bystander.)

Relationships

Anyways in more cheerful news let's look at the two most important people to Euphrasie we know of.

Mirabelle

Mirabelle!! The Meeble!! Euphrasie is super important to Mirabelle, and Mirabelle, in turn, is super important to Euphrasie.

From the third snack break:

Mirabelle (sad2): The Head Housemaiden... She's such a wonderful person. Mirabelle (sad2): She helped me out so much! I couldn't do anything before I came to the House, I could barely sew my own clothes, and she helped me, she taught me... Mirabelle (sad2): I wouldn't be the person I am without her! Mirabelle (sad2): And when the King attacked...  She protected me. Mirabelle (sad2): Everyone... Everyone was being frozen in time around me... Mirabelle (sad4): And the Head Housemaiden made sure I could escape! Made sure I lived!!! Mirabelle (sad4): She gave me her blessing...!!!

Similarly to some of the other older Housemaidens, Euphrasie had a big part in raising Mirabelle (which does imply some things about Mirabelle's past, but that's not the point right now). We don't know the exact sequence of events for Mirabelle escaping (outside of Mirabelle happening to be closest to the door), but Mirabelle adds some action to Euphrasie during whatever happened, saying Euphrasie "protected her".

From Euphie's office:

Mirabelle (sad2): But the King was too strong, and attacked out of nowhere, and now... I don't know what happened to her. Mirabelle (sad2): When I fled the House... The King might've already... ...

They weren't in the same room, Mirabelle doesn't even know what exactly happened to her, but still says Euphie protected her, and obviously shows great esteem for her all around.

Mirabelle just loves Euphie so much, man!

Euphrasie (sorry3): And, Housemaiden Mirabelle... Euphrasie (smiling1): You have always been the most hardworking Housemaiden in the House. Always striving to learn new things. To better yourself. Euphrasie (smiling2): Always meeting challenges head on, even if you didn't think you'd succeed. Euphrasie (smiling3): You were the only logical choice, yes, but you were also the only RIGHT choice! Mirabelle (sad2): Head Housemaiden... Mirabelle (gentle1): No, Euphrasie... Thank you!!!

Mirabelle credits Euphrasie for the person she is today, but Euphrasie turns that back and gives credit to Mirabelle's own strengths. It's just, very cute. She might have taught Mirabelle her literal skills, but the determination and bravery were all Mirabelle's own.

This scene also demonstrates that the bond goes both ways. Euphie loves Mira right on back, and considers Mira to be "stinking cute!" which even the Change God Themself agrees with. She's so proud of Mira!

I also wanna point to the switch from Mira using Euphie's title, to then using Euphie's name after Euphie reaffirms how proud she is of Mira. Throughout the entire adventure, Mirabelle's unwitting deception (that she had been blessed by the Change God instead of by Euphie) had weighed down on her, and Mirabelle kept questioning why she was the one who had to go on this journey, when Euphrasie would have been so much better at it. Like she stole Euphie's spot.

I think that bled into the relationship, here, that she kept imagining Euphrasie being disappointed in her, so she uses the title to make some distance to that mental image. It shows off how distant and unreachable Euphrasie is.

(It's also just a good show of politeness from Mirabelle. Like, if I'm talking to my mother, I'll call her Mama, but if I am talking about her to someone else, I'll say "my mother", as demonstrated by the first part of this sentence.)

Lastly, really minor thing: apparently, Euphrasie is looking into dual Craft types! That's one of the random papers on her desk.

(It's an essay about the 3.5% of people who are dual Craft types users, like Mirabelle.)

That makes me think she started reading on it because of Mirabelle, which is cute.

Generally, the basis of their relationship is very much mentor-student, yet it goes much deeper than that with Euphrasie's big role in raising Mirabelle. TLDR: they love each other, your honor. Fambly.

Claude

Second on the agenda, Mirabelle's roommate, Claude!

Lookin at Claude. It's obvious they're romantically involved. The first hint is the letter on Euphie's desk, of course, but that could imply this is a recent situation, too.

(It's a lovely, cheesy, mushy love letter from someone named Claude.)

Except, well, no. The letter isn't sealed, otherwise Siffrin wouldn't be able to pick it up and skim it if they had to open it first. It was already open, meaning Euphrasie already read it.

And, in Act 6:

Claude: Okay! We'll come and say hi later, then. I'll need to go and plant a big kiss on Euphie, anyway.

Claude mentions how she has to give Euphie a big kiss, which you wouldn't exactly do with someone you only just confessed to. Meaning the relationship has been ongoing for a while now, and also implying that Claude still writes love letters to Euphie, or that Euphie kept Claude's initial confession on her desk, both options make them big saps, which is really cute.

Also also, Claude's the only one to call Euphie Euphie, an endearing nickname.

I also touched on before how Claude was the only one to also prepare for the King's attack by making the bomb, and...

Mirabelle (sad1): I... used to think she should've become a Defender, because she was always helping people, and trying out weird experiments to solve their problems... Mirabelle (sad2): And she would always, ALWAYS help the Head Housemaiden with hers. Mirabelle (sad2): Always trying new ways to organize her desk... To help her finish tasks... To make sure she'd get some free time... Mirabelle (sad2): She'd do it with a smug smile, saying it wasn't that big of a deal, that she'd do it for anyone, but... Mirabelle (sad2): If she knew that the Head Housemaiden was in danger... She would've ran anywhere, everywhere, so she could help her. Mirabelle (sad2): Not only because the Head Housemaiden would've solved anything, would've beaten the King if she could, but because... Mirabelle (sad3): Because... Mirabelle (sad3): . . . Mirabelle (sad3): If Claude is this far into the House, she must've... tried to stop the King herself, so he wouldn't get to the Head Housemaiden.

Mirabelle trails off on that last "because" concerning Claude's motivation to go rushing to Euphrasie, and I think, considering the love letters, we can guess what that was. It's quite evident from Mirabelle's words that the two are super close. "[t]hat she'd do it for anyone, but... If she knew the Head Housemaiden was in danger... She would've ran anywhere, everywhere, so she could help her."

Mirabelle's framing of it reveals that Claude wouldn't do those things for just anyone. That Euphrasie is special to her.

In both ISAT and SASASAP, Claude is the last frozen NPC you find, the closest to the King. Her bomb wasn't finished, but it's telling that Claude carries the Secret Ingredient on her person. Whatever it is, she probably nabbed it from her room and set out to help Euphrasie in her fight against the King any way she could.

I guess the summary here is more simple, but the devotion on display is amazing. Like, again, the bomb wasn't done, Claude had NO weapons to speak of, but came rushing in anyway, because Euphrasie was in danger. She loves her girlfriend so much!! They're mushy and silly and affectionate, and, if Claude is the one organizing Euphie's desk, did Claude keep her love letter on display just to show off? Again, it's. It's cute! It's a lot of environmental storytelling for an NPC!!

Wah. Clauphie are so cute. We don't see Euphrasie talk about Claude at all (because Euphrasie does have more uhhh pressing things to worry about), but just, from the letter on the desk, it's gotta be reciprocated.

There's just so much to speculate about how things went down when the King "attacked out of nowhere", because Euphrasie is at the top of the House. Even when the King is defeated and the House returns to normal, it's still the roof. So, did she draw him up there on purpose to give everyone else time to escape?

I personally think Euphrasie was probably frozen first, with Claude rushing in second. So she did hold him off as long as she could, and that sacrifice allowed Mirabelle to escape in the first place. Nothing would've been possible without her. Euphie feels so much guilt for what she's done, but Mirabelle and Siffrin would not have suceeded without her, okay. She's instrumental.

Which is less about Claude and more about Euphrasie's importance, but hey, this is my essay, and I can be as uncoordinated as I want.

The Job

Last thing I wanna touch on!! Just a fun lil thing.

What the hell is a Head Housemaiden anyway?

Mirabelle and Isabeau react scandalized at the notion of people sharing shrines, so it seems unlikely that the House functions anything like a church at all. Every Housemaiden has a personalized figure of the Change God that they pray to in private, as we see from Mirabelle talking about them, in addition to basically every room in the House having one, down to people making more in pottery class. So, it's suuuper unlikely that the Head Housemaiden has much of a religious function. Spreading the good word, maybe, but actually leading prayer? No way.

Odile (wonder1): We make shrines for our gods, and everyone shares the shrines. Isabeau (huhwah1): SHARING GODS............

She seems to have a much more logistical function, being more like. The manager of the House. This is a files thing, but the map for her room is actually called "admin". She also has a lot of quote unquote boring administrative papers on her desk that Siffrin doesn't care about. Makes one wonder how the position is selected, whether one is elected into the office, or it's just whoever wants to do the paperwork to keep the House running.

(It looks like boring administrative papers.) (It's a petition to serve more bread at lunch.)

Mirabelle (happy1): She manages the House and makes sure everyone is happy and fulfilled! She organizes a lot of events too!

Among things such as "what to serve at lunch" and "organizing events", she's more like the headmaster of a community college, especially considering how heavy the House just resembles a community center. Less of a religious institution, more just a place to host fun classes and a living space for all who need it.

It's hard to tell whether Euphie demands a lot of respect due to her person and office, or it's just Mirabelle specifically that respects her most, since most of what we know of the House and its people is filtered through Mirabelle's perspective.

Speculation!

It's headcanon time, babey.

Yup, after straying close to actual facts for so long, I wanna get speculative. You're probably already gonna know islander theory. (And if you don't, go read that. This is like, the third time I linked it.)

But I wanna like, talk about how that influences how I read Euphrasie a lot!! I didn't go in-depth with that aspect in the og theory post but you can swear to any god you believe in that I've thought so so much how this enhances other aspects of who she is and stands for and also SHOUTOUT TO OCEAN!!! WHO ALSO THINKS ABOUT THIS SO MUCH!!! And again in fact thought about all of this before I did and is also someone who talk about excessively about this. AND ALSO GOT TO PREVIEW A GOOD CHUNK OF THIS ESSAY and motivated me to finish this eheh.

Anways! I wanna circle back to some points here first!

That whole past vs future thing

You might recall how I compared Euphie and the King a lot, esp between their respective roles in ISAT and SASASAP being pretty identical. And I said the King represents the past, as he is literally frozen in time, choosing to remember what he has lost instead of living in the present, and Euphrasie represents the future, which can only arrive when she is permitted to be her own person!

So yeah, uh, how's that feel when you suppose that they're from the same country, and thus, suffered the same loss.

Reading Euphrasie with this HC in mind opens up a very neat second parallel to Siffrin. King is someone who can't let go of the country, and Siffrin is torn between not wanting to let go and knowing they have to. So to put them up against someone who has let go is just pretty nifty.

Euphrasie is content with her life and the culture she lives in, even being a pillar of the community! Whereas King is a 'bad end' counterpart, Euphie, in her Showing The Future Function, is the 'good end' counterpart for that, showing that someone in Siffrin's situation can overcome their grief and find new fulfillment.

The End

So! That's everything I got on Euphrasie! She represents The End, but just as you gotta break an egg to make an omelette, she represents new beginnings, too. Her agency and freedom are change itself.

Mirabelle (hm3): It's to remind us that before changing, we must stop and think about what will be irreparably destroyed. Mirabelle (hm1): But destruction is just a part of change, and we must accept it... Isabeau (brag1): Yeah! It'd be awful to keep yourself from becoming a person you feel comfortable with just because it would upset someone else. Odile (huh1): Huh... That's a harsher belief than I thought.

In conclusion, I love her. This has been 7.4k words. Good night!

[winxanity-ii]

DO YOU STILL BELIEVE?

ship: odysseus x fem!penelope!reader warnings: non-explicit (emotional intensity, mentions of war and trauma, heavy themes of longing and separation, a bittersweet reunion) word count: 5.2k a/n: I had so much fun writing this one-shot inspired by Epic the Musical and The Odyssey! Penelope and Odysseus’ love story has always fascinated me, and I wanted to explore the raw emotions of their reunion while staying true to the themes of trust and enduring love. 🥹 I hope you enjoy this piece, and as always, feedback is welcome! Next update for Catch Me If You Can is in the works, so stay tuned! 👀.

★·.·´🇪‌🇵‌🇮‌🇨‌: 🇹‌🇭‌🇪‌ 🇲‌🇺‌🇸‌🇮‌🇨‌🇦‌🇱‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

An unsettling silence clung to you as followed Eurycleia down the quiet corridors back to your chambers. The weight of the contest bore down on your shoulders like a storm cloud, and your mind churned with thoughts too heavy to quiet.

As you reached your room, Eurycleia stopped, turning to face you with an expression you couldn't quite decipher. Her aged hands, calloused from years of service, trembled slightly as she reached for the latch. "My lady," she began, her voice low and trembling, "you must remain in your room at all times tonight. No matter what you hear, you cannot leave."

Her words struck you with a jolt of unease, and you frowned. "Remain here? What do you mean, Eurycleia? What is going on?"

She hesitated, her gaze darting to the side as if the walls themselves might overhear her. "Please," she said softly, bowing her head. "Forgive me, but it is for your safety."

The cryptic answer only deepened the knot in your chest. "Eurycleia," you pressed, stepping closer, "tell me—"

"I cannot, my lady." Her voice wavered, but she straightened herself, her resolve unwavering. "I ask only that you trust me. Stay here, and do not leave until someone comes for you."

Before you could utter another word, she dipped into a deep bow, her gray hair catching the faint lamplight, and hurried away, the door clicking shut behind her.

For a moment, you simply stared at the door, her final words echoing in your ears. Trust me. What could she mean? What danger awaited beyond these walls?

Letting out a shaky sigh, you turned toward the room. The weight of your robe dragged against your shoulders as you pulled it tighter, seeking comfort from its soft folds.

The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting flickering shadows that danced across the stone walls. It was a futile attempt to drive out the chill that had seeped into the room—and into your very bones.

Crossing to the window, you pressed your palms against the cool sill, your gaze drifting out over the kingdom below. The village lights flickered like stars scattered across the darkened land.

Beyond them, the sea stretched into the horizon, its surface shimmering faintly under the light of the crescent moon.

Your thoughts wandered, as they always did in moments of stillness, drawn to the same familiar ache that had lived in your chest for years.

The contest... Would it truly decide your fate? One of those suitors, those arrogant men who had feasted in your halls and mocked your son, could soon become your husband. The very thought sent a shudder down your spine, and you hugged your arms tighter around yourself.

A whisper escaped your lips, barely audible over the soft crackle of the fire. "Odysseus..." The name hung in the air, a prayer, a plea, a question. "What would you think of me now, letting this madness continue? Letting strangers fight for what was never theirs to claim?"

Your vision blurred, and you lowered your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. For years, you had waited. For years, you had woven and unwoven that shroud, holding on to a hope that had felt as fragile as a thread in the loom.

Was it foolish to hope still? To think that he might return, that the man who had held your heart so completely could be more than a memory?

Your lips trembled as you forced a bitter laugh. "I am not you," you murmured, the words breaking the silence. "I am not brave enough to fight this battle. All I can do is endure."

Your mind drifted, as it often did, to Telemachus. A smile tugged at your lips despite the ache in your chest. "Oh, Odysseus," you said, a soft chuckle escaping through your tears. "You would adore our son. He has your mind—so sharp, so clever. And your smile..." You let out a watery laugh, pressing a hand to your mouth to stifle the sound. "Even when he's being stubborn, I see you in him."

The image of Telemachus as a child came to you, vivid and warm—a boy who had once clung to your skirts, demanding stories of his father's heroism. Now, he stood tall, a man in his own right, with the weight of the kingdom already pressing on his shoulders. How proud Odysseus would be of him.

Your musings were cut short by a sudden, sharp sound—a shout echoing faintly down the corridors.

You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. Another shout followed, then the unmistakable clash of steel against steel.

Your breath hitched, and you stumbled back from the window, your pulse racing. What was happening? Panic swirled in your chest, and you turned toward the door, your hands trembling as you reached for the latch.

It didn't move.

You tugged harder, a frustrated gasp escaping you. "Open the door!" you shouted, pounding against the wood with the flat of your palm. "What is going on out there?"

A muffled voice answered from the other side, strained and apologetic. "My Queen, please—forgive us. You must remain inside."

"Why?" you demanded, your voice rising as fear clawed at your throat. "Tell me what is happening!"

But the only response was silence, broken only by the distant sounds of chaos—the cries of men, the clash of swords, and the pounding of your own heartbeat in your ears.

You staggered back, your chest heaving as you tried to make sense of it all. Your mind raced, grasping for answers. Was it the suitors? Had the contest descended into violence? Or was it something else—something you dared not name aloud?

Your knees buckled, and you sank onto the edge of the bed, your hands clutching the fabric of your robe as though it could anchor you. The air felt thick, suffocating, and your thoughts spiraled, each one more desperate than the last.

"Odysseus," you whispered, the name falling from your lips like a prayer. If he were here, he would know what to do. He would protect you, protect Telemachus, protect this kingdom.

Another shout rang out, closer this time, and your breath caught in your throat. You could do nothing but wait, trapped within these walls, your fate hanging in the balance.

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You paced the length of your chambers, your footsteps muffled by the thick rug underfoot. Every pass brought you closer to the walls and then away again, as if your own restlessness could push the heavy silence out of the room.

Minutes ago—minutes that felt like an eternity—the shouts and screams that had echoed down the corridors had gone silent. That silence pressed on you now, as heavy as the stone walls of Ithaca's palace.

Your mind churned, spiraling into darker and darker thoughts. What had happened? Had the suitors staged an uprising, turning the contest into bloodshed? Did Ithaca fall under siege from an unseen enemy?  What if the guards were overwhelmed, and Telemachus...

You stopped mid-step, your breath catching painfully. Telemachus. Your son. The boy you'd raised to be strong, who carried so much of his father's spirit. Had he fallen in the chaos? Was he lying out there, cold and lifeless while you were locked away, helpless to protect him?

"No," you whispered, shaking your head furiously, as if the motion alone could banish the thought. But your heart wouldn't listen, and it dropped like a stone into your stomach, twisting painfully.

What if the suitors had taken over? What if they had harmed Telemachus? The thought of losing him, your son, the last piece of Odysseus you'd held onto, made the breath hitch in your throat. Your pulse roared in your ears, drowning out the world around you.

No, no, no. Your mind flashed to his strong but still-youthful face, the way he carried himself with the dignity of a man but the vulnerability of a boy. Your knees weakened at the thought of him hurt—or worse.

"Telemachus," you whispered, clutching your robe tighter around you. Panic clawed its way up your throat, and you rushed to the door, slamming your fists against it. "Let me out! I demand to see my son!" Your voice cracked, trembling with desperation. "Open this door! What's happened to him?"

From the other side came a muffled voice, hesitant and filled with regret. "My lady... forgive me, but I cannot. I have my orders."

"Orders?" you repeated, your voice rising with fury. "To keep me locked away while my son—while my kingdom—falls apart?" Your fists pounded harder, the sharp thud echoing in the empty room. "I beg you, please! Telemachus! Is he—" Your voice broke, and the words wouldn't come.

Your knees weakened, and you leaned heavily against the door, pressing your forehead to its cool surface.

No response. Not even the muffled, apologetic voices from earlier. Just silence.

You leaned your forehead against the wood, trembling as your thoughts spiraled further. Pressing your palms flat against the door, you whispered a prayer to the gods above, your voice trembling. "Please gods... protect him. Protect my son. Keep him safe. Please."

The silence beyond the door stretched on, heavy and suffocating. You stayed there, trembling against the wood, every second a fresh torment.

And then... the latch clicked, breaking through your whispered pleas.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as you staggered back. Slowly, the door inched open, the dim light from the corridor spilling into the room.

Relief surged through you, mingling with your anger as you rushed forward, ready to demand answers. "How dare you keep me—" But the words died in your throat, caught like a fish in a net, as your gaze landed on the figure standing in the doorway.

Your heart stopped.

"...Odysseus?" His name escaped your lips in a whisper, barely audible, trembling like the flicker of a candle in the wind.

It couldn't be.

Your eyes widened, your mind struggling to reconcile the man before you with the ghost of the memory you had clung to for so many years. But there he was, standing in the doorway, real and solid, and yet so very different from the man you had kissed goodbye all those years ago.

He looked older. His once-youthful face was lined with the passage of time and the weight of what he had endured. Faint scars crisscrossed his hands and forearms, reminders of battles fought and hardships survived.

His frame was leaner than you remembered, his once-strong build worn by years of trials, yet he carried himself with a strength that belied the weary lines etched into his features.

His hair, streaked with silver, curled just slightly at the edges, framing a face that was both familiar and foreign.

And his eyes—oh, his eyes. They were the same piercing eyes you had fallen in love with, though now they carried a heaviness, a burden of things seen and done that you could scarcely imagine.

You took a trembling step closer, your breath shallow. Your gaze darted over him, drinking in every detail as though you feared he might vanish if you blinked. His clothes were ragged, torn at the edges, and caked with dust and blood, but he stood tall, the weight of the years and his trials radiating off him like a shield.

When your eyes met his, something shifted. The hardness in his gaze softened, the lines around them easing ever so slightly as his lips parted.

"Penelope," he rasped, his voice hoarse, as though it had been too long since he'd spoken your name aloud. He took a step toward you, his movements slow and deliberate, as if testing the waters of a dream.

Your head shook slowly, side to side, as tears welled in your eyes, spilling over before you could stop them. "N-No..." you stammered, your voice trembling, barely audible. "No... no!" The word grew louder as you turned abruptly, your legs buckling beneath the weight of the moment, sending you stumbling back toward the window.

You pressed your palms to the cool stone sill, your gaze locking onto the distant horizon as though it could anchor you. Your mind raced, each thought more frantic than the last. This isn't real. It can't be real. Fear clawed at your chest, your heart pounding so hard it felt as though it might break free. A strangled laugh escaped your lips, wild and unbidden.

The sound startled even you, cracking like thunder in the stillness of the room. It morphed into a sob, the sound catching in your throat as you gasped for breath. "I've lost it," you whispered, a broken, bitter laugh slipping through your trembling lips. "The gods have taken pity on me—or perhaps they've cursed me." Your shoulders shook as the dam finally broke, tears spilling freely now, mingling with the bitter laughter that refused to stop.

You clutched at the sill, your fingers digging into the stone as if you could steady yourself against the onslaught of emotions. The ache in your chest was unbearable, a mixture of disbelief, longing, and the fear that this was nothing more than a cruel trick of your mind—a dream that would shatter as all the others had.

A warm hand rested gently on your shoulder.

You froze, the heat of his touch cutting through the storm raging within you. A gasp escaped your lips, and your eyes squeezed shut, unwilling to face whatever was behind you—whether it was real or a phantom conjured by desperation.

The warmth seeped through your robe, grounding you, making it impossible to ignore. The sobs caught in your throat, and you were left trembling, torn between the urge to lean into the comfort and the fear of being hurt by it.

"Penelope," he said again, his voice softer this time, filled with something raw, something that threatened to undo you completely.

Your breath hitched, and with painstaking slowness, you turned. Your legs felt weak, as though they could give out at any moment, but the pull of his voice, of that warmth, was impossible to resist.

Your gaze lifted, hesitantly, until it met his. There he was, your husband, the man you had mourned and prayed for.

His face, lined with years of hardship, was impossibly familiar yet so changed.

His hair was streaked with silver, his cheeks sunken, but his eyes held the same warmth, the same depth that had drawn you in so many years ago.

Your hands shook as you raised them, trembling in the space between you, hesitant, unsure. Your lips quivered, the words catching in your throat as you whispered, "Odysseus... is it really you?"

He didn't speak. Instead, he reached out, his calloused fingers wrapping gently around your trembling hands. You flinched at the contact, the shock of it too much, but he didn't let go. Slowly, he guided your hands to his face, pressing them against his cheeks.

His skin was rougher than you remembered, his beard thicker, weathered by years of trials and battles, but the warmth—the life beneath your touch—was unmistakable. It grounded you in a way that no words ever could. He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as though savoring the moment, as though he feared you might pull away.

"It's me," he murmured, his voice low and steady, his breath warm against your hands. His thumbs moved in small, gentle circles over your wrists, as if to reassure you, to anchor you both in this moment.

Your breath hitched, and fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. "O-Odysseus," you choked out, the name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your hands, still trembling, curled slightly against his skin, afraid to let go, afraid to believe, and yet unable to deny the truth of the man before you.

He opened his eyes then, meeting your tearful gaze with a tenderness that took your breath away. "Penelope," he said again, the way he spoke your name like a vow, a promise that he was here, that he was real.

Your heart stuttered, caught between disbelief and an aching hope that threatened to overwhelm you. The tears you had tried to hold back now flowed freely, your chest heaving as you fought to find words, any words, to bridge the chasm of years and heartbreak that separated you.

"Have my prayers been answered?" you whispered, your voice trembling, fragile as the thread of a spider's web. Your eyes searched his face, tracing every new line, every scar, every mark of hardship etched into his features. "Is it really you standing there, or am I dreaming once more?"

Odysseus' lips parted, as though he, too, struggled with the enormity of this moment. He tightened his hold on your hands, his calloused thumbs brushing against your skin in a gesture so tender it made you tremble. "It's me, Penelope," he murmured, his voice low but steady, a reassurance as much for himself as it was for you.

You shook your head slightly, as if to clear it, your tears blurring your vision. "You look different," you said, your voice cracking under the weight of emotion. "Your eyes... they look tired. Your frame is lighter, your smile..." You swallowed hard, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Your smile is... torn."

A flicker of pain crossed his face, and he let out a breath that seemed to carry the weight of years. "I... I am not the man you fell in love with, Penelope," he admitted, his voice soft but unwavering. "I am not the man you once adored. I am not your kind and gentle husband."

His words struck you like a blow, each one driving home the truth that you had feared, and yet something in his gaze kept you rooted, unable to look away. "And I am not the love you knew before," he finished, the admission hanging heavy in the air between you.

Your lip quivered, your knees threatening to give out again. "What kinds of things did you do for you to believe such things?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question carried no accusation, only a desperate need to understand, to piece together the years that had separated you.

His jaw tightened, and his gaze dropped for a moment, as though the weight of the answer was too much to bear. "I left a trail of red on every island," he said finally, his voice raw with the truth. "I traded friends like objects I could use. I hurt more lives than I can count on my hands." His eyes flicked back up to yours, and the pain in them was almost unbearable to witness. "But all of that was to bring me back to you."

Your breath caught, your hands trembling in his grip. He was baring his soul before you, and yet you couldn't stop the flood of questions, the fears and doubts that had plagued you for years. "So tell me," he continued, his voice softer now, carrying a note of something fragile. "Would you fall in love with me again, if you knew all I've done? The things I can't undo? I am not the man you knew, Penelope. But I know you've been waiting for my return, my love."

You felt as though the air had been knocked from your lungs, his words hitting you with a force that left you reeling. "Odysseus..."

He stepped closer, the air between you heavy with unspoken emotion. The years of longing, the nights spent weaving and unraveling hope, the ache of absence—all of it welled up inside you, pressing against your chest until it was hard to breathe.

"If that's true," you began, your voice trembling with a mixture of vulnerability and resolve that even you hadn't expected, "could you do me a favor?"

Odysseus tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he studied you, the faintest flicker of concern crossing his features. "Anything," he rasped, his voice carrying the weight of someone who had carried countless burdens but would shoulder another if it meant easing yours.

You drew in a shaky breath, your hands twisting in the fabric of your robe as you glanced toward the corner of the room, where the wedding bed stood—a monument to the love you had cherished through the years, even as it seemed impossible to hold onto. "Just a moment of labor," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you struggled to keep it steady, "that would bring me some peace."

He straightened, his brows drawing closer together as unease flickered in his gaze.

You swallowed hard and gestured toward the bed. "See that wedding bed? Could you carry it over? Lift it high on your shoulders and take it far away from here."

The silence that followed was almost unbearable. Even the crackling of the fire in the hearth seemed to fade into the background as your words hung heavily in the air.

At first, Odysseus didn't move, his body as still as stone, but the change in his expression was stark. Confusion gave way to disbelief, then hurt, and finally, a simmering anger that seemed to pulse just beneath the surface.

He took a slow step forward, his eyes fixed on the bed as though it had somehow betrayed him.

"How could you say ask this?" he asked, his voice low and tight, the tremor in it betraying the storm of emotions he was struggling to contain. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles whitening as though he were trying to ground himself. "That bed isn't just wood, Penelope. It's us—it's everything we built, everything we were."

You held your ground, your heart hammering in your chest. "I know," you replied softly, though your voice carried a sharp edge, your words deliberately chosen. "That's why I ask."

His gaze snapped to yours, his eyes flashing with a pain that struck deep. "I built that bed with my own hands," he said, his voice rising, the anger now bubbling to the surface. "Do you remember the olive tree, Penelope? The one in the garden, where you smiled at me for the first time—truly smiled, not out of courtesy or politeness, but with a warmth that lit up the whole world? That tree was alive, vibrant, like you. I could have built a bed from any wood in the kingdom, but I chose that tree. I thought it would hold us together, root us, even when life tried to tear us apart."

You said nothing, your eyes brimming with unshed tears as he continued, the floodgates of his heartbreak fully open now.

"When I carved it..." he said, his voice breaking slightly, "I poured everything into it—my love, my hope, my belief that what we had was unshakable. And now, after all these years, after everything I've done to get back to you, you ask me to destroy it? To tear it from its roots and cast it away as though it means... nothing?" His voice cracked on the last word, and he shook his head, stepping back as though the distance might protect him from the blow you'd just dealt.

Your lip quivered, but you refused to look away. Instead, you stepped closer, your voice quiet but resolute. "And do you know why I asked, Odysseus?" you countered, your tone measured, a mixture of cunning and vulnerability. "Because I had to know. After twenty years, I had to know if the man who stands before me is the man I loved, the man who could never move that bed because he made it immovable—because he made it ours."

He froze, his breath catching in his throat as your words sank in.

You took another step forward, your tears finally slipping down your cheeks as you continued, your voice softening. "Only my husband would understand what that bed means, what it represents. Only he would react the way you just did—with anger, with heartbreak, because it's not just a piece of furniture, is it? It's us. It's the life we built together, the promises we made under the shade of that olive tree. Only my Odysseus would carry that weight with him... even after all these years."

He looked at you then, truly looked at you, and the anger in his eyes melted into something deeper—something raw and unguarded. He took a shaky breath, his hands relaxing at his sides as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Penelope..."

"Yes," you murmured, your lips trembling as a smile began to form. "Yes, only my husband knew that... So I guess that makes him you."

The tension in the room shattered, replaced by a flood of emotions that neither of you could fully contain. Odysseus took another step toward you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek with a gentleness that belied the storm that had just passed.

"Penelope," he said again, his voice full of reverence, his thumb brushing away your tears. "You... you are still the clever woman I fell in love with, the woman who could outwit gods and men alike. And you’re right. That bed... it's us. And I could never, would never destroy it. Not for anything."

You placed your hand over his, your fingers trembling against his calloused palm. "And I could never stop loving you," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Not then. Not now. Not for anything or anyone."

Your tears fell freely now, your voice breaking as you spoke. "I will fall in love with you over and over again, Odysseus," you said, the words tumbling from your lips like a confession, raw and unguarded. "I don't care how, where, or when. No matter how long it's been... you're mine."

His eyes opened, meeting yours with a fierce intensity. "Don't tell me you're not the same person," you continued, your voice trembling but determined. "You're always my husband, and I've been waiting for you."

His hands cupped your face then, his touch gentle but firm, as though grounding himself in your presence. "Penelope," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion, his forehead resting against yours. "For you, I would wait an eternity."

"How long... has it been?"

His lips curled into a faint smile, bittersweet and full of unspoken apologies. "Twenty years," he said, the weight of those two words pressing against you like a physical force.

Twenty years. Twenty years of pain and longing condensed into this moment, the air between you heavy with unspoken promises and the undeniable truth of a love that had endured against all odds.

And then, without warning, he kissed you.

It wasn't tentative or shy but raw and consuming. His lips claimed yours with a fervor that stole the breath from your lungs. You felt the tremor in his hands as they cradled your face, his calloused fingers rough yet gentle, grounding you in his presence.

The weight of twenty years was in that kiss—two decades of longing, of yearning, of pain too deep to articulate.

He kissed you like a man starved, as though you were the first taste of life he’d had in an eternity. The press of his lips was firm, insistent, yet reverent, as if he were terrified that you might slip away if he loosened his hold for even a moment.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, the rhythm faltering before surging forward with a force that left you lightheaded. Your hands, trembling and unsure, found their way to his chest, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his tunic as if to anchor yourself, as if to remind yourself that this was real, that he was here. His heart thundered beneath your touch, the rapid beat matching the wild cadence of your own.

The kiss deepened, his desperation bleeding into every movement. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. His beard brushed against your skin, rough and unfamiliar, but it only added to the heady sensation, grounding you further in the reality of him.

When he pulled you closer, his arms sliding around your waist to hold you firmly against him, the warmth of his body seeped into yours, chasing away every lingering doubt, every shadow of uncertainty.

You could feel the tension in him—the coiled strength of a warrior who had been fighting for so long, the vulnerability of a man who had feared he might never return home.

A small, broken sound escaped him, muffled against your lips, and it sent a shiver racing down your spine. His lips lingered on yours as though memorizing the shape, the feel, the reality of you.

When he finally pulled back, his breath came in ragged gasps, his forehead resting against yours once more. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lashes damp with unshed tears, and his grip on you remained firm, as though he feared you might vanish if he let go.

"Penelope," he whispered again, his voice hoarse, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. "I thought... I thought I'd never hold you again."

Your own breaths came in shallow, uneven bursts, your lips tingling from the intensity of the kiss. Your chest heaved, your hands still clutching at him as if you might fall apart without the solid weight of him beneath your fingers.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and the raw vulnerability you saw there stole whatever words you might have spoken. His lips were red and slightly swollen, his cheeks flushed, and the way he looked at you—as though you were the only thing keeping him grounded—made your heart ache and soar all at once.

You lifted a trembling hand to touch his face, your thumb brushing against the tear trailing down his cheek. "Odysseus," you whispered, your voice cracking with the weight of everything you felt but couldn't say.

And as his lips found yours again, softer this time but no less fervent, you knew without a doubt that this was your Odysseus—the man who had left, the man who had fought, the man who had returned.

And you kissed him back with all the love, all the pain, and all the hope that had carried you through the years. The two of you stood there, the world falling away as time seemed to collapse.

He pulled back slowly, his breath mingling with yours, the space between you charged with everything unspoken. For a moment, he simply stared, his hands trembling against your skin.

"Penelope," he whispered, his voice breaking, his tears falling freely now. "After everything... after all this time..."

You placed a trembling hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your palm, a grounding warmth that made you choke on a sob. "I—I love you, Odysseus."

His hand covered yours, pressing it tighter against his chest as though to hold you there, to keep you from slipping away. "I love you, Penelope," he murmured, his voice steady now, resonant, filled with everything he couldn't say before. "Always. Forever. Even when I thought I'd never see you again... it was always you."

And in that moment, twenty years of separation melted away, leaving nothing but the love that had never wavered, the bond that time and trials could not break.

A/N: Ahhh, y'all im crying in bed!!! i just listened to the last saga of epic (ithaca saga) and it got me sobbing, just a mess.  jorge did a phenomenon job portrtaying odysseus love for penelope ❤️❤️ i just had to create my one-shot/interpertation of this 😩❤️