#i am absolutely putting this in his main tag

[respectthepetty]

Petty, I have a wild ass Jack and Joker theory, and I need to know what you think because we often end up in the clown car together, lol.

There's been a lot of talk/fears about Joke (and Toi Ting), now that we know character death is on the table - I'm not worried Joke will die (I am terrified they will gut us with Toi Ting but oh I hope not). I'm not saying that Joke isn't about to feel so responsible for what has happened that he's gonna get reckless with his life, because I absolutely think he will.

I think he's absolutely about to do some very stupid shit that could be his life in real danger as penance.

But I've been thinking for a while - since your initial posts about Hope and Save and their names - that Save is going to die. And now that I just skimmed a post that basically said that Joke and Save are the same character in different fonts and Save's guilt in episode 10, I'm absolutely positive.

Save is going to die.

Hope will live, because he has too. Without hope, we have nothing. (I also have a tangential theory that Save will die to save Hope, so...)

Thoughts?

Why not a third secret option? Why can’t everyone live? Since the show killed Jennie’s character, and the man who tried to run away with his few dollar bills died too, let’s just believe everyone remaining will survive! Even more, if Boss survives, then everyone BETTER live because no shitty father should survive when the possibility of a child dying is on the table. So I'm going to aim high because

Fortune Favors the Monkey King

Move over, Kitty! I'm driving this clown car straight to the opera house.

Because this is a Chinese opera.

We already know there is a Chinese influence in this story, as @veemark pointed out about the meal Joke ate with Jack and his grandma.

So with that in mind, in the fourth episode, when Nang punished the men for hurting her people, she drew the "09" stick (but she said nine-zero), which meant the men had to perform the Chinese opera of the Monkey King, which people in the tags thought was sooooo ridiculous!

In that same episode, Jack received his fortune, which was number 9 and stated, "When the fool changes black to white, the fate of the forgiver will change"

Now, skip to episode 9 when Joke gets "The Fool" card and changes the fate of Jack, the person who forgave him, so Jack's fortune was right.

Now, in episode 9, we also get the iconic team name "The Four Little Pigs"

And this is where the light bulb turned on because this is Journey to the West.

Journey to the West is an epic Chinese story that is 100 chapters long about a group of heroes having to complete a certain amount of tasks to achieve enlightenment.

The main character is Tang Sanzang who is basically a saint who wants to bring good to all the land and who everyone is in love with and wants to marry. We are introduced to him in chapter 9 of the story. He is the heart.

The first person he meets on his journey is the Monkey King, aka Sun Wukong, who was so great at being the best trickster that he became overconfident and ended up getting put in heavenly jail for 500 years. The first chapters of the story are actually about him. He is foolish, but he is also the mastermind.

He has a daughter, Yuebei Xing. She has her own story, Journey to the South. She is a badass. She fights monster and lives to tell the tale.

The Monkey King is easily the most powerful of the bunch, but Tang Sanzang doesn't like the Monkey King's methods because they are immoral, so there is a gold ring involved that keeps him in check.

Or maybe it's this ring.

I think it's the second ring because a goddess, who keeps helping them along the way, helps them with the ring too. She is also cool.

Along the journey, they meet Zhu Wuneng, aka Pig. He is a smart fighter but he is greedy and selfish so he keeps taking shit he isn't supposed to, which constantly gets them in trouble. He is human nature.

There is Sha Wujing aka Sandy, who was once a god, but shattered a crystal and ended up banished to earth to be a mortal. He is conformity without thought.

And finally, there is Bai Long Ma, who is a horse that they ride for transportation. He is human will.

There is also a princess somewhere in there who must be saved from a marriage.

The group meets obstacles along the way, and lots of crazy shit goes down, but after 14 YEARS they finally come to the end of their journey.

And on their journey to achieve enlightenment they meet a squire whose loved one is kidnapped with the possibility of murder and another squire who is murdered and his wife is pissed about it because she did everything to make sure he wouldn't be harmed.

Now, if you gasped because you think Hope (or Save) will die, well . . . the number 14 fortune was Hope's.

The fortune was given in episode four which is the same episode Jack got his fortune, but it seemed like Hope's fortune played out in the same episode when he found Joke right across the hall staying with Jack.

But the thing is, in the Chinese story, regardless of which squire it is, they don't just need the Monkey King; they need the Monkey King's help.

So the Monkey King goes to the underworld to get the loved one back and succeeds (both times). But he still needs to save our saint!

Remember, the group has to do a certain number of deeds to bring peace to the land, so the group goes in to save their leader, and the ONLY reason they make it out is because all of the people they have helped along the way (especially the people the Monkey King has helped) return the favor and save them.

By saving others, they saved themselves.

So . . . I don't think anyone else is dying. However, it's been YEARS since I read a very condensed version of this story in Asian Rhetorics, and @journeytothewestresearch's blog helped me piece some of what I forgot together.

So I could be wrong, and everyone dies.

But I don't think so.

*fingers crossed that fortune favors the bold Monkey King*

[roaringdrago]

🌟 leona kingscholar (if you haven't done him already)

i have not. (and i apologize in advance for how much i have to say on the matter.)

send me 🌟 + a character and i'll assign them a fashion collection

while we don't get to see much in the way of personal style for most characters, i'd say leona is especially difficult to pin down because he doesn't offer an inherent preference overall; leona's sense of style is in the details.

he's more function over fashion, but i'd say he does have his own style preferences that he adds in where he can. primarily, leona tends to emphasize the torso—his pants and shoes are often more plain, casual, while his shirts and jackets hold a lot more personality. and, genuinely, i think he prefers to show the shape of his waist. this feels more like a detail hinting toward his upbringing—it makes him look more put together, even if he's just rolled out of bed.

some examples of this:

tucking in his uniform shirt

tying the sleeves of his PE uniform around his hips

his dorm shirt has an asymmetric hem that exposes one hip

the large belt and buckle for savanaclaw's pirate costumes

the wrap-style top and sash for his fairy gala attire

the cloudcalling outfits have heavily adorned waists and hips when fully on, then expose the stomach when dressed down

his nightmare suit features a high waist

his playful land shirt mimicks the hem of his dorm uniform

his vargas camp attire has a lightly cropped shirt

he also seems fond of accessories—jewelry in particular—even going so far as to wear a necklace during vargas camp. he seems much less partial to rings, but bracelets and necklaces are fair game.

even if he says he doesn't care much about fashion, he has preferences, and they can be seen throughout the game.

...now. all that being said. assigning him a collection is still so fucking difficult.

without primary inspiration to take from, pinning him down by the details felt a bit like reading an i Spy book.

and because his style is so specific, i was unable to dig up a collection i feel truly fits leona. the most common issue was a lack of jewelry, quickly followed by very plain tops paired with interesting pants. we're also seeing a lot more baggy and oversized looks for modern collections, making leona's apparent preference for fitted pieces that much harder to satisfy.

so. i'm breaking the rules for my own ask meme. we're going to give him a few looks from multiple collections instead.

first up, look 29 from dsquared2's spring 2025 menswear collection:

there were a lot of things i liked about this collection for leona, but ultimately, not enough looks fit the guidelines. something i really liked about this look in particular is that we have a relaxed, looser top, but it's still tucked, and the mesh allows us to see the waist.

look 21 from coach's fall 2015 menswear collection:

the shape of this look is very similar to his vargas camp attire. the whole collection seemed very leona on the surface, but i think the combination of the bags and the more formal pants kept me from assigning it fully to him.

looks 44, 47, and 54 from balmain's fall 2024 menswear collection:

while i do adore a lot of the looks in this collection for leona, it's ultimately too varied to assign to him as a whole. the section i prefer most is pictured above, but the inclusion of metallic fabrics and details leads to an unfortunate lack of jewelry.

before we move on to my last piece of larger commentary, i wanted to point out something i found interesting. there's something about leona's silhouettes that feel very classic to me, and it wasn't until tonight that i understood why. his silhouettes have a very ralph lauren feel to them, but i really don't think leona would wear ralph lauren at all.

now. there's something else i've come to see in a different light through the course of my meticulous study of leona's wardrobe. of our overblot designs, leona's has always been my least favorite. it felt very off to me, but i couldn't figure out why.

something about it didn't mesh well with the rest when looking at them as a collection, and it just didn't feel very leona to me in the way the others have visual similarities to the characters' styles and motifs. riddle's overblot silhouette is not far from his dorm uniform, vil has his peacock feathers... but. this felt so different:

...and now i know why.

we're creating a very bottom-heavy silhouette with most of the interest focused on the legs. his jewelry is no longer restricted to his arms and neck. the eye is drawn away from his waist, even if we still have an element that emphasizes the shape.

to me, it feels like his overblot form is actively consuming him. we still have leona's staples, but they're hidden beneath an outfit he wouldn't wear.

in terms of his other outfits, the closest is his cloudcalling attire—something i wish was more obvious, but given how much time there was between his overblot reveal and the cloudcalling event, it doesn't feel as intentional as i would like it to be.

again, i apologize for how much talking i did, especially given i didn't actually fulfill the ask meme. looking into leona's personal sense of style really opened my eyes to a very different aspect of his character i hadn't considered before now.

[bayetea]

I'm gonna froth at the mouth over this in the tags so bear with me but reason #1278038 why the way rick went about breaking up jiper was bad: rereading her povs in hoo where she gushes over jason feels like even more of an unreliable narrator queer girl comphet psychological horror story

[squipdop]

sorry im a god gale truther btw i DO think he should get to usurp mystra and ascend to godhood and i do think that should be an absolutely awful thing to happen to him but also literally everyone else. sorry

[many-gay-magpies]

you ever have disproportionately large feelings about something that seems comparatively very small and you feel like if you don't articulate them all perfectly youll explode and die

[anthrokiaera]

Last Line Challenge

rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words. 

fun game @itsyourstarboy!! Ty for the tag Now I don’t really know what you meant by “last thing we wrote” if you mean artistically I am an absolute crap writer But!!! In honor of your new D.a.m.n. Fam fic, here’s something I wrote while travelling a few days earlier to see a friend:))

“Waiting for the boom, listening to how quiet it is, and how loud the flash of lightning...“ yadiyadiya

if you wanted something with more of a silly twist then this was the last thing I sent my friends

“..I’M NICKNAMING KAEYA ‘LILY’”

tags!! apologies in advance if I’m repeating some (No pressure to join if you don’t want to!)@romeo-the-homeo @sincerelywhistler @konnorhasapen @basiliskbrews @dollscircus @angelcactus @friendlyfaded @sienotasir @moonandstarlightsposts

[abyssarts]

i've seen a misinterpretation of the caption on my dollhouse piece and like. i'm not upset about the misinterpretation but i do wanna clarify:

the "false sense of security" does not mean homura is intentionally causing harm to anyone (aside from the incubators). the world she created is fragile and was forged out of a desperation to protect those she loves, even if it means they'll all end up resenting her for her actions. any sense of normalcy or security they have while in homura's new world is literally false in that it's the result of memory manipulation, and the foundation of her world is on the brink of collapse at all times.

i fuckin love homura for all her flaws and bad decisions. i do not at all subscribe to the idea that she's evil in any sense of the word, but i also don't think she "had" to rewrite the universe in her own image, yknow? there were plenty of other ways she coulda protected madoka from the incubators' influence post-rebellion. the reason why she threw away her only chance at true happiness was because she had been pushed to her absolute limit during rebellion and was in no state of mind to be making good decisions

[autism-corner]

i found this in levi's photo's. wth man?????

[absolutehumandisaster]

The implication that Ford had more fun fighting for his life through the multiverse than Stan did running the Mystery Shack fills me with unimaginable rage

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

fun fact: I actually have not 1, not 2, but 3 dedicated playlists of OST-style music for my various Guild Wars 2 AUs, and... that, of all ways, is the closest I get to "outlining" my stories. every sequence has a dedicated track that I picked out according to what I'd imagine playing in-game if it was an actual playable story arc in Guild Wars 2.

Regrowth's playlist has 59 songs and Flourish has 28.

then the Tideturners have one too, with a grand total of 22.

......... I don't have a problem,

[tofixtheshadows]

You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.

The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.

For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.

I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.

Like, this

is funny.

But this?

Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.

The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.

I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:

Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.

And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.

[dalishious]

About Davrin's little blurb on the official website for Dragon Age: The Veilguard...

"Though he was raised in a Dalish clan, he craved excitement and adventure. He'd rather make history than reflect on it."

There's actually a lot to unpack about these two sentences.

First off, placing the word "though" in front of being "raised in a Dalish clan", gives such a thing a negative connotation. The word "though" is used in a way that sounds like "despite", as in, somehow wanting excitement and adventure must go against being Dalish. This correlates with sentence that follows. "He'd rather make history than reflect on it." The word "rather" is yet again used to separate Davrin from his Dalish origin. All together, this promotional description of Davrin is insisting that he is "not like other Dalish".

Now, obviously the game is not out yet, so we do not have total confirmation on what the nature of Davrin's relationship to his culture is really like. But there is absolutely something to be said about promoting the character this way, regardless of however he actually turns out in game. There is absolutely something to be said about how, as @/the-eldritch-it-gay put in their tags here, why do writers feel the need to make fantasy minorities hate or distance themselves from their culture? As a selling point?

Maybe this is completely misleading bullshit, maybe it isn't. All we have to go by, is what BioWare chose to say here, and their past track record with elves:

Zevran may talk about his mother in a font way, but he still has the line, "Too many of our kind think we deserve pity simply because we have failed to defend ourselves."

Velanna is one of the two elves we've had who is overtly proud of her culture, yet she is treated like she is unreasonable and too angry because of it.

Merrill too, is proud of being an elf, and of being Dalish. The story punishes her left and right for this, treats her like a child, and in the end she is either ostracized from her clan or they end up dead because... she cared too much?

Fenris has pretty much zero engagement with elven cultures, and spends his time ridiculing Merrill for being proud of hers.

Solas complains about the Dalish from the start, and says plainly that he does not see himself as having anything in common with elves of current time. "Oh, you mean elves" he says, when the Inquisitor asks how he feels about his people; the thought does not even occur to him.

Sera is... Sera is a character who could have been a really interesting examination of overcoming internalized racism, if she was written by someone competent with the subject. Instead, she just cringes at everything "too elfy" through the entire main game, and only has a single line in Trespasser that hints that she may have a personal struggle going on. But it's still left unresolved.

That's a lot a lot of negativity. So of course seeing a suggestion that more is to come with Davrin has people wary and tired.

Let us also consider the fact that Davrin is overtly Black as well, and what that means. Acting as if one must disregard history in order to make it, as his description so claims, is bullshit. It sounds too much like promoting gentrification/assimilation in my opinion; the idea that you cannot keep your culture if you want to be successful.

I also think that it goes even deeper, on a meta level - I think that BioWare is afraid people will not be able to like or relate to Davrin, if he is "too ethnic". I think that BioWare is taking this Black character and instead of questioning how he can best represent marginalized fans - particularly Black fans - they are questioning how to make him more relatable to white fans. And the only answer to that is to, of course, make him seem like he is an exception to marginalization through separating him from his people.

I am still holding onto hope that Davrin will overall be an interesting, well-written character. And I sure as hell will still be defending him from the people who are already hating on him or ignoring him completely because of their racialized biases. But that does not exempt BioWare, and specifically his writer, John Dombrow, from any criticism. This is not about Davrin the character, this is about BioWare the company's handling of Davrin the character. And in that regard, they're not off to a great start with this.

[meanbossart]

Pin!

Hi, I'm RJ (Male, 27 years old) I'm a -usually- horror oriented artist and collaborator alongside my partner and better-half @barbatusart, though I'm currently on a Baldur's Gate 3/DnD streak with both my art and writing, specifically centered around the Dark Urge I created for my campaign and his antics, so that's most of what you will find here!

I want to leave a warning right here that I occasionally venture into delicate topics in regards to character lore and history - though none of it strays too far from what the game already delves into and I try to give a heads-up ahead of time whenever I feel like something might catch someone off-guard otherwise.

PATREON WHERE I POST WIPS, SKETCHES, UNRELEASED ART, ALL OF MY NSFW CONTENT, ETC : patreon.com/meanbossart/

BLUESKY WHERE I PUT UP FULL VERSIONS OF *SOME* OF THE NSFW THAT I CAN'T POST HERE: bsky.app/profile/meanbossart.bsky.social

TWITCH WHERE I STREAM SOMETIMES: twitch.tv/meanboss14

PSA: I get a lot of asks and I'm slow to go through them, please don't take it personally :U

Anyway, here's the guy of the hour:

🚨FAQ BELOW🚨

Q: Does your Durge have a name? A: Nope! I named him "drow" when I played the game because I didn't feel like thinking up anything special. His lack of a name has become part of the character's lore and you will find him to always be tagged with "DU drow", or referred to as The Drow or just Drow.

Q: Where can I read your BG3 fan-fiction? And what is it about? A: Right here! The main plot follows DU Drow, Astarion, and Shadowheart on a new adventure that fractures into a couple of different directions, but mainly focuses on the aftermath of the spawn that Astarion has released and the personal development of the main cast, alongside a number of original characters that get involved in the narrative. My goal was to create a kind of "DLC" experience, so you can expect a lot of themes that parallel the main game.

Q: Can I draw one of your characters, a scene from your story, or any of your characters interacting with mine/other characters? And can it be NSFW in nature? A: YOU ABSOLUTELY CAN, AND I'LL BE DELIGHTED TO SEE IT IF YOU CARE TO SHARE. I'm equally fine with NSFW as long as everyone involved (in the art and otherwise) is an adult.

Q: What drawing software/tablet/brushes do you use? A: I draw on a Wacom Cintiq 22, using Clip Studio Pro. I switch around brushes quite often but most of what I use comes from the DAUB super-bundle by Paolo Limoncelli.

Q: Where can I find more of your work? A: You can find mine and my partner's comics here, but please bear in mind that most of it is highly violent stuff and you should read the content warnings on the store page carefully before making any purchases - if in doubt of whether or not any of it could be detrimental to your mental health, DON'T BUY IT. Stay safe!

Q: Do you take commissions? A: I am not currently taking any new commission inquiries, sorry!

[wholoveseggs]

Hi there!! I been reading your works and I love your writing. This my first request ever.

I had this idea, and I was thinking about a gothic vampire reader with the personality and the looks of Morticia Addams, and the love for the macabre. And Elijah catches her attention and she catches his attention. Of course, they meet at a gala, a opera etc. And for weeks, they have been getting to know each other. Until one day, he comes over to her house, they are having a good time then the visit turns steamy and smutty, it is passionate and feral. And maybe with blood sharing between the two.

But of course, if you don’t want to then you don’t have to and you can ignore this.

Decadence

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah meets an intriguing woman at the opera, leading to an evening of music, wine and vampiric indulgences.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @thealienartist!! Absolutely obsessed with this idea, I LOVE gothic romance & horror!!! This was an absolute dream to write. Can Elijah please be the Gomez to my Morticia heart? ♡♡

5.9k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, blood drinking, I was self-projecting hard with this one... {I just want to be her}, black cats, chocolate cake, vintage wine, a love letter, Victorian gothic everything... I listened to Totentanz on repeat while writing this... {its a vibe}

Elijah had always enjoyed the arts, whether that be in music or literature or even painting and live performances. He found that the arts were one of the only things that made him feel truly alive. Even with his undead heart beating within his chest.

Around the turn of the century, Elijah discovered his love for horror. It amused him to see how humans depicted the supernatural, their interpretations of his kind were rather off. Vampires living in run down castles, with no regard for the world around them, their main purpose to drain the blood of the innocent. It was almost laughable, though some of his kind did enjoy that lifestyle.

It was during this time that he fell in love with opera, something his siblings didn't exactly agree with. Rebekah found it to be dull, Klaus found it to be pretentious and Kol didn't care either way.

They just didn't get it, the music, the drama, the costumes, had him completely enraptured.

So, when he heard that La bohème was being performed, he immediately made plans to go. He had seen it many times, but never got tired of the performance. He just wished that he could have somebody to go with, but none of his family wanted to attend.

He put on his favorite four piece suit, combed his hair, grabbed his black trench coat and made his way to the opera house.

As the lights dimmed and the stage lit up, Elijah couldn't help but feel a little sad, wishing he had someone to share this interest with, but he was content watching alone.

He watched as the curtains parted and the actors began their first scene, he immediately fell into a trance as he took in the performance.

Intermission was announced and he went outside for some fresh air, he was surprised to see a woman, who looked like she was plucked straight out of the past, standing on the balcony.

She was smoking a cigarette, the long stick held elegantly in her fingers. Her nails were red talons and her dark hair cascaded down her back, stopping at her hips. She was dressed in a all black Victorian style dress, which complimented her pale skin, making it look almost ghostly.

She tilted her head at him in acknowledgement, then went back to staring out into the night.

Elijah usually wasn't the one to approach women, he preferred for them to make the first move. But something about this one intrigued him, he was curious about her.

He stepped onto the balcony and approached her slowly. Watching the wisps of smoke rise into the air.

She looked up at him and smiled.

"Elijah Mikaelson, I presume?" Her voice was deep, but still feminine, her eyes darker than his own. She was strikingly beautiful, there was no doubt about that.

"You know who I am?" Elijah raised his eyebrows.

She chuckled, gracefully flicking her cigarette butt away.

"Who doesn't? The infamous Mikaelson's, who rule the streets of New Orleans with blood and fear... I'm a big fan," she said.

He smiled and shook his head, "We do not rule the city, we simply protect it from our enemies."

She hummed, a smirk gracing her ruby red lips.

"You do have a reputation," she replied.

Elijah nodded and stepped forward.

"What is your name, darling?"

She chuckled and leaned against the railing, gazing up at him with a smirk. "Y/n," she said, extending her hand out to him.

He grasped her hand gently, his lips brushing against her knuckles, her eyes sparkled as she watched his lips.

"Hmm, they don't make them like you anymore," she mused, her eyes traveling up and down his body. "You are so very old-fashioned," she added with a sly smile.

"Well I am quite old," he jested, matching her smile.

They stood and stared at each other for a moment before Elijah broke the silence. "What do you think of this performance?" He asked, gesturing towards the theater.

She shrugged, "I've seen worse, I've seen better," she replied.

Elijah found himself smirking at her response, not really knowing why. Maybe because he had found himself feeling the same.

"May I ask what brings you here?" He wondered why she was attending an opera alone.

"I was bored, looking for someone to eat," she stated. Her eyes roaming over his body once more.

Elijah let out a chuckle and ran a hand through his hair. There was only a handful of times in his long life that a woman actually made him nervous, this being one of those times.

She reached forward and placed her hand on his chest, leaning closer towards him, her lips ghosting against his ear, her scent surrounded him, it was intoxicating and Elijah found himself leaning into her.

"I'll see you around Mr. Mikaelson," she whispered and gently pulled away from him, giving him a wink before going back inside. Elijah watched her go, letting out a sigh as he shook his head, not being able to wipe the smile off of his face.

You considered yourself a solitary creature. Even in your human life, you tended to keep people at a distance. You felt misunderstood, even a bit judged by your peers, you didn't really like being around people.

After you were turned, things hadn't really changed that much, you still found it difficult to connect with others, but now you were mostly untethered and unburdened by society's rules.

The freedom of being a vampire was nice, to be able to go and do whatever you pleased, whenever you pleased and live however you saw fit.

You spent most of your years traveling, seeking out new places, experiencing new cultures and meeting people along the way. And with all this knowledge you learned exactly who you are and what you like.

New Orleans was one of your favorite places, full of vibrancy and life. It was an aesthetic heaven for you, a place that celebrated death, promoted the macabre, had strong connections to magic. Not to mention their appreciation for the arts.

For the last few decades, you had taken up residence in an old Victorian home. You compelled the local historical society to allow you to paint the exterior completely black. Planted dark red roses along the windows and hung little chandeliers made of animal bones along the porch.

You had spent quite a bit of time decorating the interior, making it a space that you could feel truly comfortable in. Something that made your home feel like it truly reflected your personality.

The house fit you perfectly; outside looking like something from a B-horror film, but the interior was homely and feminine, decorated with macabre pieces, gothic furniture, tapestries adorned the walls and candles were scattered everywhere.

You never really acclimated to modern society, you were turned in the 1800s and preferred to live according to the time. You liked old things, dark antiques, things that held a certain kind of energy within them.

So when you met Elijah Mikaelson at the opera house, you knew you had to add him to your collection.

You had heard about the Mikaelson family for a long time, whispers of them among the vampires. You had become intrigued, they were the oldest of your kind, the knowledge they possessed fascinated you.

You couldn't help the smirk that had stretched across your lips when you finally came face to face with Elijah, he was exactly how you imagined him. Tall, dark and handsome, dressed to perfection, emanating wealth and power. Finding him at the opera added to your attraction, knowing that his interests matched your own made it all that more charming.

Elijah Mikaelson was the fine wine of men and you wanted to bathe yourself in it. Wanted to drink up every drop of it, savoring the taste of it on your lips.

You sat in your living room, your cat on your lap, purring contently as you ran your fingers through his fur. You were dressed in a large silk robe, your hair tied up in a bun, dark wine colored lipstick on your lips. A mug filled with blood sat on the table beside you.

You were writing out a letter to him, with ink and parchment, your favorite fountain pen adding a certain flourish to your lettering. Your cat jumped off of your lap and you grabbed an envelope to place the letter inside. You folded the parchment and stuck it in the envelope, sealing it with wax and writing Elijah's name onto the paper.

You hoped he would like the gesture, you knew he was an old fashioned man, so sending him a letter with a gift was bound to catch his attention. It had been a long, long time since you felt nervous, and it had been at least a hundred years since you had a crush like this.

You grabbed the parcel with his gift in it and walked over to your front door, slipping on your heels, you headed out of the house and down your side walk, plucking a rose along the way.

The postman was close to leaving, just as you approached his mail van.

"Hello," you greeted, and watched as he turned and jumped, clearly startled by your sudden appearance.

"Jesus lady, I didn't hear you coming," he stammered, looking you up and down, a nervous smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to catch you before you left."

He shook his head and smiled, waving away your concern.

"I have a parcel for you to deliver," you said.

He nodded and held out his hand for the letter.

"What's the address?" He asked, staring down at the envelope, taking note of your fine penmanship.

"The Abattoir, in the French Quarter. For Elijah Mikaelson," you told him, running your fingertips along the thorns of your rose.

The postman nodded his head and placed the letter in his van.

"Have a nice day," he said as he walked away.

You watched him climb into his vehicle and drive away, a smirk playing on your lips, hoping your letter would get the attention you desired.

Elijah was spending the day lazing about, enjoying a rare day of peace and quiet, catching up on his reading. He wasn't expecting any visitors, but a knock sounded at the front door, which was a highly unusual occurrence.

He wandered downstairs, a nervous looking postman was waiting at the gate, looking around the old compound with fascination and hesitation.

"Elijah Mikaelson?" He asked timidly.

"Yes?" Elijah looked at him in bewilderment, it had been a long time since he had received anything in the mail, it wasn't like he had a registered address.

"This is for you," he said, handing him the envelope and a small package, wrapped in crimson coloured paper and tied with a black ribbon.

Elijah thanked him and made his way back into his home, he wondered who could have sent him a letter, the handwriting was immaculate, a skill that wasn't common in today's world.

He realized who it was from instantly when he saw the initials, y/n. A smile graced his lips, feeling like a giddy schoolboy instead of a thousand year old vampire.

He quickly undid the black ribbon and opened the paper, revealing a beautiful piece of art, depicting a flying demon eating a young woman's heart. The detail was incredibly fine, and he realized after a quick sniff, that the red of the painting was not paint. It was blood.

A thought crossed his mind, he wondered if it was a piece of your art, he found your work to be truly frightening, beautiful and enchanting, reminding him of the piece Nighthawks, though darker and macabre.

Opening the letter, he read it carefully,

Dearest Mr. Mikaelson, I hope this letter finds you well, if not please pardon my forwardness. I never understood the flirting etiquette of the modern woman. I find myself longing for the company of a man with your refined tastes, such a delicate palette. I was intrigued from the moment we met, our meeting felt fortuitous. I must confess that I have not felt this way in centuries, being in your presence awakened something within me that I wasn't aware still existed. I find myself completely enamored. Perhaps my feelings are returned? If not, then please accept this gift in hopes of extending our friendship. Though I do wish you share in my hopes of something a little more. I will be home tonight, perhaps you would do me the honor of joining me for a drink? Until then I remain Your Admirer, y/n.

Elijah couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he gently folded the parchment and placed it on his desk. He immediately went to check himself in the mirror, fixing his hair, combing it neatly to the side. He found himself anxiously changing his tie, nothing matched what he was wearing, but he wanted everything to be perfect.

He found a pair of ruby cufflinks, feeling that they complimented the letter and would perhaps set the mood.

Grabbing his black wool jacket and adjusting his tie, he made his way outside before stopping and running back inside, he couldn't possibly come empty handed and he knew just the thing to bring you.

You waited nervously inside your house, you had decided to wear a simple black slip dress, your hair flowing over your shoulders in waves, your black winged eyeliner perfectly defining your eyes.

You needed a way to quell your anxiety, so you decided to play a tune on your organ, something to fill the silence, create a soundtrack to go along with the nerves that bounced around inside your mind and heart.

If he didn't show, you would understand. It had been quite a while since you've expressed your affections to anyone. It had been a lifetime since you were courted.

Your fingers idly drifted over the ivory keys, producing a somber yet melodic tune. Your nails were filed into sharp talons, painted a deep crimson, matching the lipstick on your lips.

The melody flowed through the house, the tune reverberating against the walls, seeping through the floorboards. Your cat jumped up and settled in your lap, the soft vibrations from the organ lulling him into a purring trance.

A soft knock broke the melody and you felt your heart stutter. Placing your cat on the seat you walked over to your door. Taking a steadying breath, you grabbed the handle and opened the door.

Men usually didn't have you so utterly flustered, but with Elijah, it seemed like even your centuries old blood could grow warm.

"Good evening, I received your letter and gift, thank you."

He greeted you with a genuine smile, an excited glint in his eyes. You let your eyes wander over him, taking in his appearance, he was dressed to perfection, like always, obviously following along with your old fashioned aesthetic. You liked that you didn't have to ask him, he just got it.

"Please, come in," you stepped to the side to make room for him, you shut the door as he walked inside.

"Quite a lovely home you have here," he said, admiring the interior of the house.

You took his coat and led him into the sitting room, pointing to one of the antique sofas.

"Please, take a seat."

He sat and placed the bottle of wine he had brought on the table.

You took the bottle and marveled at the label, your interest peaked, feeling slightly taken back, it was one of the rarest reds, bottles of this were difficult to come by, most of them now lying at the bottom of the sea.

You knew it was not a simple gesture, this was the kind of thing you save for very special occasions. Knowing that he considered this date that special made your stomach flutter.

"Now how did you manage to get your hands on this?" You asked, placing the bottle beside the two glasses you had set out earlier.

"My brother was the culprit behind a number of shipwrecks, during the golden era of piracy," Elijah responded, a smirk gracing his lips.

You chuckled as you grabbed the corkscrew. "That is no surprise," you replied as you popped the cork out.

You grabbed the glasses and walked over to him, passing him one of the glasses before sitting across from him.

You both raised your glasses and clinked them together, taking a drink, closing your eyes and savoring the taste.

"I heard you playing as I approached the house, you have a lovely talent," Elijah said.

You smiled and nodded your head, looking down at your wine.

"That was very sweet of you to say," you looked up at him through your lashes, admiring his handsome features.

You took another sip and watched him over the rim of your glass, his eyes watching you as well.

"What were you playing? Totentanz?" He asked.

"Indeed, it’s one of my favorites," you said, tilting your glass in his direction, "and it felt appropriate," you jested.

A beautiful smile stretched across Elijah's face as he let out a chuckle. His smile made your lips curl up, mirroring his expression.

"So tell me," he began, "What made you decide to come to New Orleans?"

You shrugged and crossed your legs, the sliver of skin left exposed as the fabric cascaded over your thighs, capturing his attention.

"I love it here, the culture, the art, blood tastes sweeter here," you said, letting a sly smile grace your face. "I like the way this city weaves death and beauty," you paused and took a sip, "it just feels like home to me."

Elijah nodded his head in understanding, he appreciated what you had said. "Yes, there is a certain allure about this city,"

"Your family helped build it back in the 1800s, no?" You asked, running your finger along the lip of your glass.

He nodded, "yes we did, from swamps and brothels to one of the wealthiest cities."

You chuckled and shook your head, "yet the swamps and brothels remain," you mused.

"But not nearly as much," he joked.

You both sat and talked for hours, getting to know each other, laughing and drinking. Elijah was surprised to find that you didn't mind listening to him talk about his travels and life, in fact you hung onto his every word. To him, you were utterly enchanting, the way your eyes lit up as you talked, your laugh, the way you looked at him.

At one point he got up and sat closer to you, his hand gently grazing your thigh, leaning in close as you spoke, his eyes locked on yours. Your lips parted and you felt his breath ghosting across your mouth, his eyes flicking down to your lips. He was such a gentleman, waiting for you to initiate the kiss, but you wanted to do one last thing before you tasted his lips.

"I made something for us, if you would like to try it," you whispered.

He leaned back and tilted his head, his eyes curious.

You smirked and placed your wine glass down, slowly standing up.

"Follow me," you told him.

Elijah trailed after you into your dining room, a large wooden table in the center of the room, filled with silver platters and a centerpiece of black and white roses.

You had made a decadent chocolate cake using human blood, the dark rich blood mixing with the cocoa, making a sinfully dark and delicious dessert.

You pulled out a chair for him and motioned for him to sit.

"This looks delicious, did you make this?" Elijah asked.

You nodded and cut a slice for him, placing it on a plate.

"Yes, I made it from scratch," you said, a small smirk playing on your lips. "Gathered all the ingredients from local suppliers."

Elijah hummed, taking his first bite, his eyes widened and he let out a soft groan.

"This is divine," he exclaimed, the veins around his eyes darkening.

You sat and watched him eat the entire slice, his eyes were blown out, the bloodlust apparent in his expression. You bit your lip, trying to hold in your excitement.

You pushed your plate towards him, a wicked grin on your lips. "Would you like another slice?"

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, the bloodlust making him look feral, his eyes completely black.

"I would prefer to taste something else," he said.

Your lips curled into a smile as he stood, pushing his chair back and pulling you out of yours.

His arms snaked around your waist, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair, pulling you flush against him. You ran your hand up his chest and wrapped it around his neck, your lips meeting his.

He tasted like red wine, chocolate and just a hint of blood, his mouth soft and pliant, his tongue brushing against your lips. You nipped at his bottom lip and he growled, pushing his hips against yours, walking you backwards, pinning you against the wall.

"Where did you come from?" He marveled, his hands grabbing your ass.

You laughed and ran your hand through his hair, giving it a light tug.

"Does it matter?" You whispered, pressing your lips against his again, kissing him hungrily.

"You've been in my city for so long, yet I only just met you, how very unfortunate," his voice was gruff as he spoke, his hips rolling against yours.

"I guess we will have to make up for lost time," you said, your voice dripping with lust.

Elijah picked you up and flashed up the stairs, his hands cupping your ass, his lips attached to your neck. He walked you into the bedroom, tossing you on the bed.

You laid there, propped up on your elbows, staring up at him, a teasing smirk on your lips, your dark hair fanning out on the pillow.

He looked at you in awe, your red lips were swollen from his kiss and the hem of your slip had risen up your thighs. He climbed onto the bed and crawled towards you, hovering over your body, his mouth finding yours again, his hands running up to the hem of your stockings, his fingers teasing the skin under the material.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and flipped him, straddling his hips. Your hands ran over his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt, revealing his toned chest.

His hands roamed over your body, slipping the straps of your slip off your shoulders, revealing your black corset, his hands trailing over the boning, the lace covering your breasts, the garters that held up your stockings, and the panties that were already ruined.

"I miss when women would dress this way," he sighed, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, a look of hunger in his eyes.

You chuckled, bending down to nip at his bottom lip, your lips moving along his jaw.

"Happy to keep the tradition alive," you whispered, nuzzling your nose against his neck, your fangs running along the artery, feeling his pulse against the tip of your fangs.

Elijah flipped you over and pressed his body against yours, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing the sides, his thumb tilting your head back. His other hand found the ties inn the front of your corset, slowly undoing the knots, the ribbon sliding through the eyelets, the corset loosening with each pull.

You watched his eyes flicker over your breasts, his fangs extending, his breathing heavy. He looked up and met your gaze, his face shifting, his veins spreading underneath his eyes.

He bent down, his fangs sinking into your chest, your blood filling his mouth, dripping down his chin. Your eyes rolled back as he fed from you, his hand squeezing your breast, his fingers pinching and twisting your nipple.

The pain of his fangs and the pleasure of his hands were overwhelming, you felt drunk, you felt euphoric.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back, your mouth colliding with his, tasting yourself on his lips. He groaned into your mouth and rolled his hips against yours, his bulge pressing against your core.

You both frantically began to undress, his pants and belt tossed aside, your dress and corset ripped off, thrown onto the floor. You laid back, wearing nothing but your stockings and panties, his boxer briefs the only piece of clothing left on his body.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you back underneath him, his lips finding yours, his hand running up your leg, hooking his finger into the thin strap of your panties, tearing them off.

"That was entirely ungentlemanly," you said, a teasing glint in your eye.

Elijah smirked, kissing his way down your stomach, stopping at your pelvis, his fangs lightly scraping the skin above your pussy.

"You don't seem to mind," he mused, his hand pushing your thighs open, his lips wrapping around your clit, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your hips bucked and your hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging it, urging him on. You appreciated his enthusiasm as he indulged in pleasuring you.

His tongue felt deliciously warm against your skin, your eyes shut, your breath ragged. It had been so long since you had a man between your legs, and Elijah was no ordinary lover, his skill level matched his age.

You moaned and writhed beneath him, his thumb pressed against your clit, your wetness covering his chin.

"Fucking hell," you panted, your body starting to tense.

Your hands gripped the bedsheets, your body a ball of pent up tension, with one final stroke of his tongue, your orgasm broke through the last sliver of control.

You shook and gasped as your climax took over, your whole body erupting in pleasure. Elijah lifted his head, watching you, his lips curling into a sly smile.

"That's a sight," he praised, sitting up and wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

You slowly opened your eyes, a blissful smile plastered on your face.

"Indeed it is," you replied, your breathing uneven.

"But you should watch your language, I thought you were a lady," he teased, his eyebrow raised, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

You narrowed your eyes and smirked, leaning forward, grabbing his shoulders and rolling him onto his back. Your bodies were slotted together, your faces close to each other.

"When have I ever claimed to be a lady?" You asked, kissing along his jawline, nipping the soft skin at the end of his neck.

Your hands trailed down his body, running over his chest, letting your nails run down his torso, breaking the skin, long bloody tracks appearing.

You kissed your way down his chest, licking the blood up, your fangs scraping against his abdomen. You looked up and caught his hungry gaze, his body tensing under you, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers.

Smirking, you kissed the fabric that separated you from his cock, your hands reaching up and tugging at the waistband, pulling them down slowly.

Your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, licking the pre-cum. His eyes fluttered shut and he hissed in pleasure, his hands tangling in your hair.

"Mr. Mikaelson," you said as you slowly descended on his cock. "I may look like a lady," you popped off him and kissed the head. "but I fuck like a dirty, filthy whore."

Elijah groaned at your words, the hands in your hair tightening, gripping your strands, guiding you back down, taking in more of him.

You bobbed your head along his shaft, sucking and lapping at the vein along the underside, one of your hands pumping the part you couldn't fit in your mouth, the other gently cupping his balls, squeezing and massaging them.

Elijah slowly began to rock his hips, matching your rhythm, his breathing heavy and rapid, his voice hoarse as he murmured your name.

Pulling his cock out of your mouth, you looked up at him, tilting your head, "yes?" You smirked, blowing air onto the tip.

Elijah pulled you up and kissed you, flipping you over and once again pinning you underneath him. He pulled your thigh up to hook around his waist, gripping your ass, letting his cock rub along your slit. He pulled on the hem of your stocking, letting it snap back against your skin.

"Gorgeous, intoxicating thing," he cooed, slowly sinking into you.

You threw your head back and let out a moan, your leg hiked up to allow him deeper access. He placed one hand under your thigh, holding your leg in place, while the other found your neck, his thumb grazing your windpipe, applying the perfect amount of pressure. The hand under your leg holding you firmly. You knew that a part of him wanted to give into the bloodlust, the animalistic side of him that was desperate to sink his fangs into your neck. His gentleness mixed with his aggressiveness drove you wild.

You felt every inch of his cock as he slowly rolled his hips, pulling out of you almost fully before entering you again. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing along yours. It was intense and overwhelming, the way he had all your senses tied up in his touch, his mouth, his taste, the sound of his breathing, his movements.

You struggled to hold it together, your pleasure building with each stroke, and he knew, he loved seeing you come undone.

He began to pick up his pace, his hips snapping against yours. It was like the perfect dance, his hips moving so smoothly and perfectly in time with yours, both of you chasing the inevitable crash.

Your eyes met, and everything else seemed to fall away as you lost yourself in his gaze, everything slowing down. He kissed you softly, tenderly, making you melt in his hands.

You brought one hand down to rest on his cheek, holding his face against yours, kissing him back just as tenderly. You ran your index finger along his jaw line, your sharp nail drawing blood, dipping your finger between your lips. He tasted so much better than you imagined, like pure power and divine lust.

Elijah groaned at the sight of your blood stained lips and he sped up, his lips on your neck, his fangs running over your skin.

You tugged on his hair, urging him to bite you, to drink his fill, you wanted nothing more than to give yourself over completely.

His fangs sank into your neck, your blood spilling into his mouth, some of it dripping onto your chest, his teeth slicing into your skin.

The sensation pushed you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, your hands grabbing at his shoulders, a strangled cry of his name leaving your lips.

He didn't stop, just as he was reaching his peak, he sank his teeth in deeper. He growled, his hips losing their rhythm as his climax hit him. You were both a gasping, moaning mess, clinging to one another, your fingers digging into each other's skin.

The two of you collapsed in a sweaty heap, tangled in the sheets, your skin glistening, breathing heavy.

You felt light headed and euphoric. His gaze was piercing and loving, his fingers brushing across your neck, softly wiping the blood off. His mouth gently caressed yours, his hands cupping your face.

He brushed your hair behind your ears, pulling you into his embrace, his fingers tracing your skin. It was hard to believe that you had only known him for a night, it felt like a lifetime.

A long overdue release of tension and you were happy to be the object of his affections. He was by far the most interesting man you had ever met.

You melted into him, his hands wrapping around you, holding you close. Everything felt perfect, the dim lights, the sound of rain in the background, the weight of him beside you.

The slow creak of your bedroom door opening, cut through the stillness of the night. The soft mew of your cat greeted the both of you, followed by the sound of him jumping onto your bed. The comforting feeling of his paws walking along the sheets as he came to investigate the disturbance in his home.

He walked along Elijah's body, bumping his head against Elijah's outstretched hand, purring happily.

"And who might you be?" Elijah asked.

"Erebus," you responded, stroking Erebus' fur. "It means darkness."

Elijah nodded, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk.

"An appropriate name," he mused, watching the black cat turn around on his chest, finding a comfortable spot to settle.

Erebus yawned and curled into a ball, closing his eyes.

You smiled and snuggled in closer to Elijah, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I guess Erebus wants me to stay," He chuckled.

You laughed and reached over him, scratching the cat behind the ears.

"It does seem that way," you teased. "And I have no intention of kicking you out."

Elijah smiled, kissing the top of your head.

"Good," he said. "Because I intend on staying right here."

You looked up at him and smiled, your heart skipping a beat. You had never met anyone who could make you feel so special and desirable.

Elijah's face was gentle, his eyes crinkled, his mouth curled into a smile. He kissed you again, a sweet, chaste kiss, and then he turned his attention back to Erebus, who was now fast asleep on his chest.

"Did you know that Erebus fathered Eros, the god of love and desire?" He asked.

"I did," you chucked, watching your little cats chest rise and fall.

"There is a play house not far from here, they are putting on a performance about it, the play is called Sweet Eros. Would you like to go see it? It's quite twisted, it seems like something you would enjoy."

You nodded and kissed him, a grin on your face.

"Mr. Mikaelson, I think this is the start of something beautiful," you teased, your fingers tracing his collarbone.

"Oh my darling," he said, his lips brushing against yours. "It already is."

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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[clockwaysadmin]

The Fic That I'm Not Writing Update Subscription Post

(The title is, obviously, a joke. I am writing this. Just not letting it stress me! It will get a real title when it goes up on Ao3.)

Ship: Dead on Main, Danny Fenton/Jason Todd CW: (updating as the series continues) Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Minor Injuries

Someone moved into the apartment below Jason's- an apartment that wasn't for rent. Turns out that Danny is is an absolute disaster with the self-preservation skills of a wet paper bag. He's also adorable. Jason takes it on himself to look out for Danny- both as himself and as Red Hood. What Jason could never have expected was for Danny to have plans of his own- plans that involve dating both of Jason's personas. The Goons™️think this is amazing. Good on the Boss and the Boss's boy toy for getting a twink!

All parts are being posted here on Tumblr in their first draft version. This fic is being posted out of order as inspiration strikes. There will be an update given when it goes live on Ao3.

All things related to this fic can be found in the 'the fic that I'm not writing' tag on @clockwayswrites. Major links are below.

Timeline- subject to change and my whims:

I'm (not) writing this hella out of order, as scenes and polls want to be written (the bastards)

Jason discovers Danny

Accidental Sugar Daddying Start

Shopping Montage

Something something something

A fool tries to mug Danny

Self Defense Lessons (Danny realized Jason is Red Hood)

Jason meets feral!Danny

Jason and Danny post RH meeting

The Midterm Zombie

Thirst Trap Lessons

Danny propositions Hood

Jason is Confused™️

Dick meets Danny (snippet)

Goons confront Hood

Hood tells Danny to ask Jason and then panics

Jason says yes

idk some cute relationship shit

Paulina Visits Gotham

Put a Leash on it (it being Danny)

Block Party

Jason whines to Dick

Tim meets Danny

More Bats meet Danny

(will this be the fic I'll finally need to label over T?)

you'll learn more as I don't write

maybe

if I were writing it

Narrator voice: stuff happens

Danny is not a morning person

My writing is better than this list. Of course, I'm clearly not writing this.

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Website: click on the ... in the upper right and 'Subscribe to Conversation' App: click on 'notes' in the bottom left then the bell icon in the upper right

(For those very few with ability to comment on this post, DO NOT.)

[hypnoneghoul]

absolution live 2017/2023

here I am with my over 1,5k word autistic ramble about the differences between absolution live from 2017 and 2023. at the end there is an audio file of both versions put together, if anyone would be interested in that. it sound very cool heh

also tags for people who showed interest in this: @forest-rot @ghuleh-recs @counting-eyerolls @ngnt-writes @ghnosis @rain-ghoul-appreciator @sister-rosemary-marie

anyway, under the cut

I will start with an analysis of instruments and players separately, one by one, and then I’ll talk about the whole thing a little bit. Also I’m using only ghoul names in there, but when I’m talking about styles and skills I obviously mean the unmasked folks.

Both in 2017 and 2023 we have Mountain on drums, which gives us a very fun comparison opportunity. In 2017 he goes heavy on the cymbals—according to the original version of the song—but it makes the whole thing a bit too crashy and too clogged. The drums are very widely mixed and set—slightly focused on the left side following the stage layout from then—but I think the cymbals could be a bit quieter in comparison to the actual drums, especially the floor tom. In general we can hear how smaller Mountain’s kit was in 2017. In 2023 the entire drum part is sharper and deeper, more bassy and it’s focused more in the middle. The way it feels to me, in 2017 the drums are the background and in 2023 they are the core. Mountain has better fills in 2023, he obviously got more comfortable just jamming in there and having fun over the years.

Dewdrop on bass in 2017; we can hear (or at least I can) that he is not a bassist. He scrapes his pick on the strings a lot which is connected to him being primarily a guitarist—it’s about the picking hand placement and angle. The bass is pretty quiet and it has overdrive on it. It helps conceal his buzzing a little bit, because it happens a fair amount for Dewdrop. Again—bass is not his main instrument. We can also hear exactly when he slams it, like we know he loves doing. In general sometimes he’s quieter and sometimes he’s louder and it’s mostly caused by his picking; how he angles his hand in certain moments and how much strength he puts into it. At the end he goes absolutely feral. Not surprising.

Rain in 2023 is amazing. He’s very skilled, and it’s a huge shame Ghost doesn’t have any songs that could really allow him to show off. He hit his cue a bit too fast at one point, but it might as well be intentional. He’s so much clearer and cleaner, both due to his skills and the settings. Rain has more drop, he most likely has his bass on a different pickup setup than Dewdrop, plus they used different basses—Rain’s with additional mods. One of those mods is a very heavy bridge—Badass Bass—and I bet we can thank that piece for the sustain and note definition in Rain’s playing. In general it flows more, fits into the whole image better. His changes in volume are controlled, not accidental like it happens for Dewdrop. Rain puts more slides, tiny additions and note changes into his live playing, it makes it a bit more lively to me. He’s put perfectly in the middle, nicely blended with the drums.

Unfortunately there isn’t much I can say about Ifrit, Dewdrop, Aether and Phantom mainly because “Absolution” isn’t really a guitar focused song and so it isn't the best song to compare guitar skills, either. The most interesting part—guitar wise—is the solo and little fills on the rhythm now and then.

Ifrit is very precise, I couldn’t hear any mistakes from him, but also the lead is surprisingly quiet in general. His palm muting is on spot, pull-offs and hammer-ons both in the chorus and the solo are very clean and he is simply a pro, he’s got super skills and I wish we could’ve gotten more (</3). He makes the whole song as lively as his stage personality, it sounds flowy but packed with emotions and still so precise it hurts.

Dewdrop’s sound is way better, though he and Ifrit are close skill wise. The difference between Hagstrom Fantomen and Fender Stratocaster is a big one, the main aspect that we can hear is the sharpness of the former and more grounded sound of the latter. Those two guitars also have a very different pickup arrangements—Dew’s strat has SSS (3x single-coils) pickups and he uses the bridge one (which is a Seymour Duncan Hot Rail), and the Fantomen’s has HH (two humbuckers that can be slip, but as far as I’m aware no ghoul used that feature), also with the bridge one used more frequently. In “Absolution” Dewdrop doesn’t add very much—as he does to some other songs—so it’s pretty much the same as the original version. There are small differences that inherently come with his style and that is what makes his version differ from both Ifrit’s and the album's, but it’s all very slight. Dew also makes a very good use of his pedals, mainly wah—especially at the end.

Aether is a bit off tempo in some parts. He plays well, mostly clean, but we can pick out some slight mistakes—mostly sounds that aren’t supposed to be there. His palm muting is a bit too light. He goes heavy on the pick which makes his part of the solo a bit sharp (especially that he’s playing the higher harmony) and square-ish. The sharpness is, again, something we can partially blame on the Fantomen. Only partially because both Ifrit and Phantom prove that it’s manageable. 

Phantom is very clean, he adds a lot of slides which is a feature of his personal style. Said style of his is very lively and fun, to me it sounds and feels like a slinky (don’t laugh at me it’s the autism). He’s more fluid both in the solo and the rest of the song than Aether, but makes one—barely noticeable—mistake in the solo where he misses a note.

Also Phantom and Dewdrop in 2023 are more in sync than Aether and Ifrit in 2017. For whatever reason.

Now keyboard; Zephyr goes absolutely ham on the keys, but it is a piano song so that’s not only understandable, but also desirable, I would say. Key’s are in the right ear with slight migration to the middle when it matters, again according to the stage layout. Their precision and speed and overall skill is insane, the ending when they go wild is the most impressive part, because the song itself doesn’t give many opportunities. If you haven’t seen a video of Zephyr playing that ending you gotta do it now because it really is insane (RIP to that Nord Stage 2 though). The synth fill before the solo in 2017 is played back, in 2023 it’s played live by Cirrus.

In 2023 Cirrus plays the main chorus keyboard part, it can be heard easily on the left side (so once again stage layout accordingly). It’s clean and precise, she’s also very skilled, but unfortunately doesn’t really show off at the end like Zephyr does. Cumulus plays some chords before the solo while Cirrus plays the synth fill.

Vocals are not my thing so I’m only going to say what most of us can hear; Terzo is very nasal, but cleaner, and sings a bit higher. Clear pronunciation, good flow. It’s closest to Tobias’ normal singing voice. Copia is even more nasal, more growly and raspy. They’re both, obviously, in the middle in case of mixing.

Backing vocals in 2017 are all play-back for obvious reasons—pretty simple, taken straight off of the album recording. It’s put on the left, but it could be more favorable in the middle. 2023 is way more spectacular thanks to—mainly—the backing vocals. They are 90% Aurora and Cumulus, with lower levels of Cirrus and barely anything of Swiss. He’s louder by the end. I’m still conflicted about the growls—if it is Swiss or Papa’s play-back—but it’s a great addition that was very mild in 2017’s play-back. The backing vocals are on the sides, accordingly to the stage layout. It all just adds more spice, I adore them.

Sound engineering and mixing is so much better in 2023. We can easily tie it to the budget (though I’d like to “blame” it on Hayden’s part in the engineering, he’s a mastermind, too). The sound is much clearer and fluid than in 2017, it highlights all the instruments perfectly at the same time. Mixing in 2017 is more blunt, it’s a bit duller and some changes in volumes and placements of instruments could—or even should—be made. It doesn’t mean 2017 sucks—far from it—it’s just a technical difference which actually warms my heart if we look at how far has Ghost come. So, once again, considering the budget in 2017 vs. 2023 it’s all understandable. Also the crowd sound control in 2023 is very fun; it makes a great use of all the yelling causing the whole song to sound warmer and fuller.

Both 2017 and 2023 are on the exact same tempo, they can be put over each other perfectly (which I did). They slide apart at the end and the break before the outro is longer in 2023. The 2023 outro itself is pretty boring in comparison to 2017, most likely because in 2023 it’s not a closing song. Below there’s both “Absolutions” over each other; 2023 in the left and 2017 in the right headphone.