#which is not for me. there is also perhaps too much going on

[sukurarose92]

Okay, a friend of mine said "obi-wan about Anakin" and it gave me several silly ideas so i'm gonna share them. Insert random headcanons about Anakin and his catch-it-eat-it diet below the line.

I'm just imagining Anakin opening cabinets, getting down on the floor and searching. Army crawling to look under tables and cabinets, pausing to sniff once in a while.

"Its around here somewhere... i just know it"

"Did you lose something?"

"No. There's an ant in here"

"Oh?... did you see it?"

"No. I can smell it. Its taunting me"

"You can.... smell the ant?" -there is a moment of silence "AHA!" "Oh. oh no. Anakin please don-- oh stars"

It's too late. Anakin has already put it in his mouth. This ties into coming from a planet where food is a little more scarce. He was raised where if you can catch it, you eat it. and obi-wan's reaction implies that he knew it was coming. which led me to headcanon number 2. This is not a new occurrence. You ever imagine the other jedi masters watching this mid-twenties fresh baby faced knight trying to wrestle a small reptile from the grubby hands of feral desert child? Because i have.

Anakin is upset because he caught it to eat it and obi is trying to convince him that there is plenty of food in the cafeteria, please do not eat that.

Perhaps, an 11 year Anakin running by with pudgy stuffed cheeks, obi-wan hot on his heels, shouting frantically "WHAT IS IN YOUR MOUTH?!"

Hearing from another room "SPIT THAT OUT THIS INSTANT! YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE THAT'S BEEN!" Followed by the sounds of a scuffle, which is certainly Knight Kenobi trying to wrestle Anakin's mouth open like an unruly dog with a wrapper, attempting to get it out of him mouth. then a sharp yelp "you BIT me?!" if it's small enough to fit in his mouth, it's going in. Bugs. Lizards. if he catches a small rodent he'll cook it first. but he'll eat it.

Headcanon number 3. Obi-wan is utterly devestated when he discovers that Ahsoka will also eat small critters.

Anakin spots a bug and stares at it, moving to stalk and it sets Ahsoka off. Next thing you know, her pupils have turned to slits and she's fallen into step, stalking alongside him. It doesn't matter who catches it first, Anakin gives it to Ahsoka because he's a good Master.

"here. i had one earlier. you can have this one"

"thanks master!"

Obi-wan is making an utterly despaired sound in the background.

"oh. i'm sorry master obi-wan. did you want that?"

"oh no, snips. obi-wan's a picky eater. he doesn't eat bugs"

"force have mercy. there's two of them"

Next headcanon. fuck naming them. there's too much going on here.

Obi-wan has no spice tolerance, which is a huge issue considering that he spent years hiding out on Tattooine where EVERYTHING is spicy, including the meats. This means that he has to find alternative means of getting his nutrients.

This ends up being a diet comprised of desert grasses, roots, mushrooms, legumes, and insects.

he's scooping out the insides of a giant millipede while staring into the distance, disassociating through dinner. He spends so many meals half to tears because "Anakin would've loved this" -- both the mean and watching Obi-wan suffer through eating bugs.

Next headconnon.

Anakin is a little shit.

that's not a new idea, you say. i know. that part is canon. hear me out though.

Freshly Knighted Anakin taunting Obi-wan with his own nuggets of wisdom

"a varied diet is paramount for a healthy body, master. it's important~" and he's holding up a grasshopper.

"no, thank you, anakin. there is plenty of nutritional value to the temple made meals. i'm quite alright."

"but master. i caught this just for you."

"that's very kind but i simply couldn't" Obi-wan is not very fond of bugs to begin with but he's less fond of them when Anakin decides he wants to chase him with them. "no! stop that!"

"c'mon master, eat it!"

"stop that, you menace!!! anakin no!"

obi-wan afterwards is bent over, hands on his knees after force running around the temple with Anakin chasing him. He's gasping for breath.

And then Anakin just approaches, still holding the bug and Obi-wan has clearly hit his limit of what he's willing to put up with and Anakin grins before popping it in his mouth.

"look at that, master. my force running has gotten better. i can keep up with you now~" 😇

"we-- *gasp* should've left you on Tattooine-- *wheeze* where we found you, you brat" *various dying sounds*

"but ya didn't~❤️"

Obi-wan is ready to kick his ass.

I doubt that it's the only time this has happened. Which brings me to my final points. The addition of Yoda to this horrible shit show.

Anakin's bug buddies, Ahsoka, and Yoda.

We have Anakin chasing Obi-wan once more with a different insect. This happens to be a bad time to be wandering the halls. Obi-wan head to do a, rather graceful, flip to avoid taking out Masters Yoda and Plo Koon while on the run. Anakin is close behind and he barely has time for more than a shouted apology.

Anakin has his bug held high and is excitedly telling his master that "this one is crunchy. you'll like it!" with a little too much glee.

Yoda watches Anakin pass by. takes a deep breath and uses a long frog-like tongue to snatch the bug right out of anakin's hands.

"running in the hallways, against the rules, it is." ☺️

anakin, who knew his master wouldn't eat it and had planned to have it himself when he was done tormenting obi. -- "😟 my bug"

Yoda is, fondly, referred to as "Master Steal your lunch" by Anakin the next time he sees him. Yoda, seeming to sense his error, and enjoying being a menace as much as Anakin, even if it's kept under wraps for the most part, sees an opportunity to ruin someone's day.

He snatches a fly from midair with his tongue and then wipes it off on his robes before offering it to Anakin, well aware it had his saliva on it, as a replacement for his pilfered snack.

There room is draped in horrified silence.

obi-wan is nearly in tears

"oh, merciful force. Anakin, i beg you... don't... "

Anakin seems to have a silent conversation via eyes before he smiles pleasantly, takes the fly, thanks the master so very pleasantly, and just pops it in his mouth, to the unending despair of his master.

Obi-wan has his head in his hands, mortified by this nonsense.

"please, Master Yoda, i beg you, don't encourage him"

imagine if your boyfriend was like I can smell an ant. and started tracking

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

I've been thinking a lot today about how easily people condemn Solas for making the choices he did or for so regularly refusing the help and love his friends or a romanced Lavellan extended to him and how that's a very easy thing to do from behind a screen in a fictional game where you are able to (with very few exceptions) curate a world in which your allies are loyal and your decisions will go the way you'd like them to.

And yeah, it's a game and that's kind of the point, but if I were to look at it a little more deeply (and who am I kidding, I got back on this website exclusively to process the aftermath of Veilguard) I'd say that there's so much to be found in wondering if the protagonists in any of the other games would have fared better in similar conditions.

Apparently I can't stop making long posts, so buckle in.

What would Morrigan have become in a world where the Warden never stumbled upon her cottage with Flemeth, if she never got the chance to see more of the world and decide what she wanted out of it? With just her mother (who, coincidentally in this Solas-y discussion is also kind of Mythal) and no support, who is to say what she would have unleashed upon the Korcari Wilds one day when the confines of her cage became too much?

What about Leliana? She, too, suffered at the hands of a very controlling abuser who tried to convince her that one lifestyle was all that her future held. What do we think she would have become if not for a chance meeting in Lothering with someone who could help her face down the woman that molded her?

Fenris, a character MANY people are just fine with was incredibly ready to kill a mage on sight if need be, no questions asked. Where do we think his story goes if he doesn't have someone in his corner early on enough in the game? If he doesn't get caught by Danarius, he's almost certainly going to end up on a murder spree, and he doesn't even have Justice whispering in his head to do it.

Cullen. Just all of him. It's an absolute miracle he hasn't snapped by the time you encounter him in Inquistion, and even then you get the benefit of intervening at a critical point in his story several times over.

Almost every other character could face this analysis and I think we'd reach a result that suggests perhaps the only thing keeping them lovable is your playable character's investment in their well-being.

Enter Solas. We don't meet him when he's twenty to thirty something and on the precipice of falling down a dark path. He's been there for literal millennia already, and with the exception of one close friend he's been alone. And not even Felassan is enough because of the years Mythal had prior to that friendship to make Solas exactly who she needed him to be.

I've had shit friends before that aren't just good at isolating people, they're naturals. I barely made it through high school with my mental health in place (in fact, looking back, it almost certainly wasn't). When you think you've got a true friend and they need something of you, it's so easy to blindly follow them because you think your love is enough to mark someone's soul as trustworthy. Solas doesn't learn that lesson until it's too late, and even when he does he can't turn back: the spirit that was once Wisdom has been exposed to several of the worst ancient elves to ever exist and now he has to stand his ground rather than let it all fall, because that is what Pride would dictate. Admitting that the person you gave your love and labor and time to is a monster is hard. And he was alone.

Give me Morrigan after centuries with her mother. Show me Leliana after the years have become a blur and the only voice whispering in her ear is Marjolaine's. Show me the innocent mages that don't make it through if all Fenris has for years and years and years are the scars Danaris left him and the means to make more. Show me Cullen if he stays in a chain of command under a Knight Commander who knows exactly what he fears and holds it over his head for so long he forgets what it was like to be an excited kid begging the templars for training because he just wants to keep people safe.

We get companions in these games who are broken by the time they're twenty. Solas has spent thousands of years in servitude to a cause of a woman he believed to be his only friend. He doesn't know who he is without her influence, anymore, only exists physically in the first place because she asked it of him and then asked again and again and again. He doesn't have a witty band of merry fools to pull him out of that cycle. He has Felassan, but he has him during war after war after war in the hopes of freeing others from the very situation that torments him.

Trauma from war affects everyone touched by it, nevermind the fact that Solas is actively responsible for saving the lives of thousands and feels each life like a weight around his neck because maybe he can save them like he cannot save himself. We should always be worried about the people trying to do the most good. Who is looking out for them? Why are they so determined to help others? Could it be that it's something they wish others had done for them?

Solas certainly feels comradery with Felassan from working together to free slaves from the very people he helped put in power because Mythal told him it would be okay only to leave him with the pieces, but even the Solas that Felassan knows has been turned into an attack dog shying away from the touch of the very person it desires to be near above all others by the time their relationship forms.

The fact that Solas is able to try and show the Inquisitor who he is at all is a miracle as far as I'm concerned, a sign of a peaceful spirit of Wisdom who loves knowledge for the sake of it finally sensing that there might be a chance to embrace its nature again.

Yeah, if you give him what he has come to expect from people with power, if you let near-absolute power over the masses corrupt you, he's going to bristle and try to shut your inquisitor down.

But if you show him even the smallest bit of kindness? If you treat him like the starving wolf he talks about and feed him instead of fighting him? God, it shatters his entire existence.

It's called a cycle of abuse for a reason. Finding friendship, finding the love of your long-ass life can be the first step in realizing there's better out there. But the time it takes to learn that? When you're too weary to even reach out for help in the first place and afraid of every kind word or gesture because you've never known such tenderness (on a platonic OR romantic level, both matter so so much) before?

Part of the compelling tragedy of Solas is that it's almost Orpheus-like how he knows what he has been made into and still cannot stop himself from yearning for more, from turning around to see if just this once something has changed. You can't convince me that he hasn't spent years hoping that someone will hear the legend of the Dread Wolf and see it for what it is, a leash the Evanuris created for Mythal's whipping boy to ensure that even if he ever escapes them, the people he fought to save will hate him. And I cannot blame him for the shock and terror that consumes him when he realizes someone finally has.

You give me any of dragon age companions after the amount of time Solas spent under Mythal's thumb without your character's intervention and you tell me how that looks.

You tell me if they're able to change at the first sign of something that feels too good to be true.

And then, I want you to tell me they're any less worthy of trying to save, especially when you know how good their best can be.

Solas might be hard for some fans to love, but it's only because he serves as the perfect representation of the beast we are all capable of becoming when the love that sustains us, assuming we receive any at all, is laced with poison.

The journey out of that place, out of a literal prison of regret, is brutal, and I'm thrilled that even with the many things about Veilguard I'm still struggling with, we have the chance to let Solas try again with the help of those who love him not because he never fell down, but because they believe in the beauty of a future where he gets back up again.

[wholoveseggs]

Hey girl, while I am jet-lagged from a trip, another Elijah idea came to me. Memory-free Elijah (Season 5) meets strong and confident human readers, and they start a friendship. She helps him navigate through his new life, and he falls for her. He also kinda forgot that he is a really skilled lover, so it's kinda cute and fluff because he is nervous and sweet, but I imagine that is something he would quickly remember after a few rounds :)

Btw: love, love, love Kinktober!!!

Belonging

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

{Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} You needed a roommate, and he needed a place to belong...but as secrets unravel and his dark past comes to light, your new housemate might just change your life forever.

♡♡ ahhh @originals23 thank you for another spectacular request!! ♡♡

8.8k words {whoops} - Warnings: sssmmuuttt, roommates-to-lovers, lots of sexual tension, Elijah being charming and mysterious, a dash of angst, mild language, protective Elijah, soft and nervous Elijah, domestic fluff, dangerous encounters (brief physical assault), Paris, vampire reveals && all the feelsss

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss @elishi03

Money was tight, as it seemed to be for everyone these days. The economy wasn't kind, and you had bills to pay. You needed a roommate, which was how you found yourself on craigslist. You were hoping for a good, sane human being, but at the end of the day, you would take what you could get.

The first person to show up for the interview was a woman and her very obnoxious boyfriend. You could instantly tell that this would not work, even if you were desperate. She wanted to smoke in the house and have friends over to play loud music and drink all night. You would rather die.

Next came a middle-aged man who immediately gave you the creeps. You had no problem living with men in general, but this guy made you uncomfortable. He stared at you too much and had a weird look in his eyes. You kicked him out quickly, feeling uneasy.

You were about to give up for the day, when a man dressed in slightly worn clothes knocked on the door. You couldn't quite get a read on him, he seemed to be full of contradictions. On the one hand, he didn't look to have a lot of money, perhaps he was even homeless. But his skin was clean, his hair neatly trimmed, and he had an air of confidence that was rare to see.

You invited him in, and he sat at the kitchen table as you asked the usual questions. None of them he could really answer in a straightforward manner.

"Where are you from?"

"I'm not really sure."

"How old are you?"

"I don't know that either."

"Where do you work?”

"I...I'm looking."

You studied him for a minute, and he gave you a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry. I know this is a bit unusual, and I wouldn't have bothered coming here if I had anywhere else to go. The truth is, I have no memories of who I am, where I'm from, or even my age."

"That's...that's a lot to take in," you replied, not sure what else to say.

He nodded solemnly, his gaze steady but filled with vulnerability. “It is. I woke up a month ago on a bus with no memory of how I got there. All I had was this,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a single, ornate cufflink with an engraved ‘E.’ “I think my name starts with an ‘E.’ Beyond that, I don’t have much to go on.

You leaned back in your chair, trying to process the situation. He could have been lying… anyone could come up with a story like that. But something about his demeanor struck you as sincere. He didn’t have the desperation of someone looking for a quick handout. He carried himself with dignity, even as he admitted he had nothing.

"Okay," you said slowly. "So, let’s say I believe you. You’ve got no memories, no job, no ID. How do you plan to contribute if I let you stay here?”

He straightened in his chair, his expression resolute. “I may not remember who I was, but I’m willing to work. I’m a fast learner, and I can help with anything you need around the house. Cleaning, repairs, anything physical...I’ll earn my keep.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure sound confident for someone who doesn’t even know their own name.”

A small, shy smile tugged at his lips. “I suppose some things are instinctual.”

His charm wasn’t lost on you, but you weren’t about to make a decision based on a smile. “And what if you’re dangerous? You could be an escaped convict for all I know.”

His smile faded, and his expression turned serious. “I understand your concern. I don’t believe I’m a danger to anyone, but I can’t offer you proof of that. All I can promise is that I’ll respect your home and your rules.”

You studied him for a long moment, weighing the risks. Something about him made you want to trust him, even though logic told you not to. Maybe it was the way he spoke, all articulate and thoughtful, as though he’d once been someone important. Or maybe it was the quiet sadness in his eyes, the kind that suggested he’d lost something far greater than his memory.

"Alright," you said finally. "You can stay. But there are rules. No bringing strangers into the house, no smoking, no loud music. And if you try anything shady, I’m calling the cops.”

Relief washed over his face, and he nodded earnestly. “Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.”

You showed him to the spare bedroom, which was small but comfortable, and gave him a set of clean sheets and a towel. He looked around the room as though he’d never seen anything like it, running his fingers over the furniture with quiet curiosity.

As he settled in, you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he’d led before he lost his memory. He was polite and well-spoken, yet entirely out of place in the world. And though he seemed vulnerable now, there was something about him… something strong and enduring, like a flicker of a flame waiting to reignite.

For now, you decided to take it one day at a time. After all, what’s life without a little risk?

The following months passed by quickly. You got closer and closer to each other, spending a lot of time together.

He had gotten used to the city life, and you had gotten used to having him around. It had been nice, having someone to come home to, and to talk to.

He was a lovely person, who enjoyed listening to classical music as he cooked, and who was always willing to lend a hand. He was smart, funny, and kind, and you were starting to fall for him.

You weren't sure if he felt the same way about you, but the way he looked at you sometimes, and the way he smiled at you, gave you hope.

You were sitting in the living room, reading a book, while he cooked dinner. The smell of his cooking was making your stomach growl, and you were looking forward to eating whatever he had prepared.

"I found out something interesting today," he said, coming into the room with a bowl of salad.

"What's that?" You asked, putting your book down.

"My name," he said, a slight smirk on his face. "My full name, I mean."

"You did?!" You exclaimed, excitedly.

"Yep," he confirmed, looking pleased with himself. "It's Elijah."

"Elijah," you repeated, testing out the name. "I like it. It suits you."

He smiled, and the sight of his dimples made your heart skip a beat. He was so striking, and you wondered if there was someone out there missing him. Someone who loved him.

"It does," he agreed, his smile fading a little.

"So, how did you find out? Did it just come to you, or did you remember?" You asked.

"Actually... I uh.. ran into someone who claimed to know me. He wasn't very friendly," he explained.

"Oh no, are you okay?" You asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," he assured you. "I wasn't hurt. Just... I don't know, it was odd."

"Odd how?"

"He was angry, and he told me I wanted this, and that I should leave the city for the sake of a woman he wouldn't name," he recalled.

"That's awful," you said, feeling sorry for him.

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Do you have any idea who the woman is?" You asked.

"... I think she might be my family?" He said, looking unsure. "It's hard to explain, but when he mentioned her, it felt like something clicked, and I knew that he was telling the truth."

"Wow, that's big," you breathed.

"I know," he nodded, plating up the food. "It's strange, I don't remember anything about my life, but the mention of her... It felt right."

"Maybe it'll trigger your memories," you suggested, helping him bring the food over to the table.

"Maybe," he agreed.

The two of you sat down to eat, and the conversation shifted to more pleasant topics.

He talked about his favorite books, and his favorite places in the city, and you listened, enjoying his company.

After dinner, you cleared the table, and put the dishes in the dishwasher. And he prepared for his nightly walk, one he didn't want you joining him on.

"Can I join you tonight?" You asked, as he grabbed his jacket.

"Why?" He asked, sounding surprised.

"Because I want to spend more time with you," you explained, hoping he wouldn't think it was too weird.

"Oh," he said, a smile creeping across his face. "Truly, I would love for you to join... But tonight, I want to clear my head. I need some time alone."

"Okay," you agreed, a little disappointed.

"Tomorrow night, perhaps," he said, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You blushed, and watched him leave. He always had an excuse as to why he had to go out on his own, and it was starting to bother you. You couldn't help but worry that he was hiding something from you, or that maybe he didn't feel the same way about you, and this was his subtle way of letting you down.

Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was your growing feelings for him, but you decided to follow him, just this once.

You grabbed a coat and put on a pair of boots, and slipped out the front door. It was a cold, windy night, and you cursed yourself for not bringing a scarf and gloves.

You could see Elijah's silhouette ahead, and you followed him, keeping your distance. He walked with such grace and confidence, the sort of walk that screamed 'I'm rich and powerful,' although his personality hardly lined up with that attitude.

You had a feeling that whoever he was, before he lost his memories, had a lot of money. It was in the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, and the way he could make a cheap t-shirt look elegant.

He wandered into a sketchy part of town, and you wondered why he would want to come here. There were several run-down buildings, and a lot of graffiti. The only people you saw were homeless and drug addicts, and you were starting to get scared.

Finally, he stopped outside an abandoned warehouse. You watched from afar as he walked inside, and a few minutes later, came back out, wiping his mouth. You frowned, wondering what he had been doing in there.

Then, without warning, he turned around and started walking back towards the house.

"Fuck," you muttered, ducking into an alleyway.

You waited until he had passed, and then followed him, staying out of sight. He went back in a different direction, and after a few blocks, you realised he was headed for a park.

You followed him, trying to stay quiet, but your footsteps echoed loudly in the night. You felt foolish, and hoped that he hadn't heard you.

He led you deeper into the park, to an area that was mostly secluded. There was a large tree, with a bench underneath it. He sat down on the bench, and stared up at the sky, which was covered in stars.

You watched him for a moment, wondering if this was his way of relaxing, and what was going through his mind.

Suddenly, his eyes locked onto yours. You gasped and took a step back, your heart racing.

"Are you going to join me, or just keep spying on me?" He asked, his voice amused.

"I wasn't spying," you lied, sitting down next to him.

"Of course not," he replied, his tone clearly mocking you.

"Why are you here?" You asked.

"I like the fresh air, and the view is beautiful," he answered.

"What were you doing in that warehouse?"

"Just clearing my head," he said, his expression becoming serious. "You shouldn't be out here, it's dangerous."

"You are out here," you countered.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling up in the corners.

"That's true," he agreed, looking out into the darkness, his eyes scanning the shadows. His shoulders were tense, and you could tell that he was on alert, even though you were both sitting safely under the tree. "Let's walk back, shall we?"

He stood up and held out his hand. You took it and he helped you to your feet.

"I'm sorry," you apologised, feeling guilty. "I shouldn't have followed you, but I was worried about you."

"It's alright," he said, keeping a grip on your hand as you walked down the path to the park exit.

You enjoyed the feeling of his hand in yours, the warmth of his skin. You glanced at his profile, admiring his handsome features. You noticed the frown on his face, his dark eyes once again scanning the shadows.

He moved a little faster, pulling you along. He seemed anxious to get out of the park, and back to the safety of your condo.

"What's wrong?" You asked, sensing his unease.

"It's nothing," he replied, his tone serious. "But I think it's best we get home, don't you?"

Then the sound of gravel crunching beneath shoes caught your attention. You turned to see a group of men walking towards you, wearing dark clothing, their faces hidden.

Elijah stopped and stepped in front of you, shielding you from the men. They approached slowly, spreading out to surround you. You were frightened, and you held onto his arm, hoping he knew what to do.

One of the men reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. Casually holding it by his side, as if it was a normal object, instead of a deadly weapon.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Elijah said, his tone calm and confident. "How may I be of service?"

The leader of the group chuckled, and shook his head.

"Hand over your money, and no one gets hurt," the man demanded, gesturing the gun at Elijah.

"Of course," Elijah said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He handed it to the man, and the man flipped through it, counting the cash.

"A little light, don't you think?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid I don't carry much cash on me," Elijah said, sounding apologetic.

The man's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, his gaze flicking between you and Elijah.

"Perhaps you should let the lady go, and we can discuss this like civilized men," Elijah suggested, his tone still polite, but his eyes had hardened.

"I don't think so," the man replied, his grip on the gun tightening.

"I uh... don't have anything," you stammered, too terrified to think straight. "I...I left my wallet at home,"

"Liar," the man spat, pointing the gun at you.

Elijah stepped in front of you, putting himself between you and the gun.

"Now, now, there's no need for that," Elijah said, holding up his hands. "We're all reasonable people, let's not resort to violence."

"Then, perhaps, we should take her fancy designer clothes instead. Maybe that'll make up for the loss," the man said, his tone threatening, pressing the barrel of the gun against Elijah's chest.

Elijah tensed, and a low growl escaped his lips. You looked at him in surprise, he didn't seem like the type of guy who would react to threats this way.

The leader's eyes widened, and a small grin appeared on his face.

"Ooh, we have a tough guy here," he said, sounding amused. "Trying to impress your date? She’ a little young for you ain't she?"

His goons laughed, and you felt your cheeks flush.

"She is none of your concern," Elijah replied, his tone sharp.

"Actually, she is. You see, I'm in charge here," the man said, he looked at you and smiled, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. "Strip. Now. Or I will shoot your sugar daddy in the fucking face,"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

"No, no please, we'll give you anything you want, just don't hurt us," you begged, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Clothes. NOW!" The man yelled, pointing the gun at your face.

You hesitated, and he grabbed your hair, yanking you away from Elijah.

"Take off the fucking clothes, or I will kill you both," the man snarled, his breath hot on your face, the barrel of the gun pressed against your temple.

"Alright, alright, don't hurt her," Elijah said, taking off his coat.

"Hurry up," the man snapped, releasing your hair.

You nodded and started to undress, tears streaming down your cheeks. You stripped off your coat and scarf, then pulled off your shirt and pants, shivering as the cold night air hit your bare skin.

You looked at Elijah, who was watching you, his expression unreadable. You could see the muscles in his jaw working, his hands balled into fists.

You were scared, but more than that, you were angry. You hated these men, for the way they were treating you and Elijah, and for the fear and shame they were making you feel.

"There, I'm naked," you said, trying to sound brave.

"Not quite," the man replied, stepping forward. He ran his hands over your body, his fingers rough against your skin, the gun still pressed to your temple.

You flinched, and he chuckled.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not going to rape you," he said, his hand cupping your breast. "You're not my type."

He moved his hand down, stroking your stomach, and then lower, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your panties. You shuddered, and he laughed again.

"But, maybe you'd like a little fun," he whispered, his lips close to your ear.

"That's enough, you've gotten what you wanted, now leave us alone," Elijah demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"It seems your sugar daddy doesn't want to share," the man said, his tone mocking. "He keeps pretending like he's in charge,"

"Please, let us go," you pleaded, your voice breaking.

"No, I think I'm going to keep you," the man replied, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you against his chest.

"You won't harm her," Elijah warned, his eyes blazing.

"Or what?" The man sneered, his fingers digging into your skin.

"I'll kill you," Elijah growled, his voice deadly.

You watched in horror as the other men laughed, raising their guns at Elijah. He didn't even blink, his gaze fixed on the man holding you.

"Is that a threat?" The man asked, his grip on you tightening.

"A promise," Elijah replied, his expression was eerily calm, but his eyes were filled with anger and determination.

The man pressed the barrel of the gun against your skull, the cold metal pressing painfully into your skin. You gasped, and he laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine.

"Walk away, and I'll let her go," the man said, his gaze locked on Elijah.

Elijah looked at you, and his eyes softened.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, his voice soft, barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat.

"Yes," you answered, without hesitation.

He smiled, and turned to the man. "Then duck,"

Before the man could respond, Elijah lunged at him, his hand grabbing the wrist holding the gun. The man yelped, and you ducked down, just as Elijah's knee connected with his face. There was a sickening crack, and the man cried out, letting go of the gun.

Elijah caught it before it hit the ground, and other men began firing, hitting Elijah in the chest over and over, but he stood there unfazed, almost bored, like they were annoying pests and nothing more.

One of the men, realizing his bullets were useless, rushed forward and swung a fist, hitting Elijah in the jaw. Elijah didn't budge, grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. The man gasped, and tried to pry his hand off, but Elijah's grip was too strong.

You watched in awe as Elijah crushed the man's throat, his expression blank. Then, he threw him aside, the sound of bones snapping echoed in the air.

The other men backed away, their faces pale. Elijah ignored them, taking his leather jacket and putting it over your shoulders, before turning his attention to the leader.

The man was kneeling on the ground, clutching his broken nose. He looked up at Elijah, his eyes wide with fear.

"P-please," the man stammered, holding up his hands. "I'm s-sorry,"

Elijah stared at him, his expression cold. "No you are not,"

He crushed the gun in his hands like it was tissue paper, and grabbed the man by the throat. The man choked, his hands clawing at Elijah's arm.

"I promised you that I would kill you, and I intend to keep my word," Elijah said, his voice devoid of emotion.

You watched in horror as he tightened his grip, and the man's face turned purple. You wanted to look away, but couldn't tear your eyes from the scene.

Elijah's expression was a mixture of rage and hatred, his face was no longer human, he had completely black eyes, with veins snaking across his face, and his teeth were razor sharp, almost fang like.

He snapped the neck with a loud crack, and dropped the man to the ground. The other men backed away further, their guns forgotten, the color drained from their faces.

Elijah looked at them, and smiled, his fangs glinting in the moonlight.

"Run," he commanded, his voice dark and deadly.

The men fled, tripping over their own feet, disappearing into the shadows. Elijah turned to look at you, his eyes soft yet completely inhuman.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, unable to speak. You were terrified, but not of him.

"Close your eyes and count to thirty, I'll be right back," he said, and then turned and followed the men.

You watched him run off faster than any human could, and you closed your eyes tightly, hearing screams and cries as he caught the men. You waited, counting down from thirty, and then you heard his footsteps and opened your eyes, his face once again normal, the only hint that he had been a monster moments ago was the blood staining his shirt.

He didn't say a word, just reached out his hand and helped you to your feet. He picked up your clothes and helped you dress, your hands were shaking so badly that you could barely button up your shirt.

When you were dressed, he wrapped his arms around you, and held you close, his warmth enveloping you.

"S-shouldn't we call the cops?" You asked, still in shock.

"There will be no need," he replied, his voice calm and soothing.

You looked at the bodies of the men, and then quickly looked away. Elijah had torn them apart, their limbs twisted and contorted in impossible ways. Their faces were frozen in expressions of terror, their eyes empty and lifeless.

"You're not human are you?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I'm more human than them," he replied, his grip on you tightening a little. "Let's get out of here, and I'll explain everything."

"Okay," you said, letting him guide you away from the bodies.

You felt numb, and you let him lead you out of the park, your mind struggling to process what had happened. Who was this man? This creature beyond comprehension?

Who had you let into your home?

The sound of the kettle whistling pulled you from the daze you had been in. You were sitting on the sofa, wrapped in multiple blankets, Elijah's coat draped across your lap.

You watched him move about the kitchen, his movements confident and sure.

"Here," he said, handing you a mug of hot tea.

"Thank you," you said, taking a sip.

He sat down next to you, his body close to yours. He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, and you flinched.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised.

"But you killed them," you whispered, your eyes watering.

"I did," he confirmed, his voice calm and steady.

"How?" You asked, looking up at him.

"I have... certain abilities," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Abilities that make me stronger, faster, and more dangerous than any human."

You put your mug down on the table and turned to him, studying his face. He was watching you intently, his eyes filled with concern.

"Are you... are you an alien?" You asked, a hint of fear in your voice.

He laughed, the sound a pleasant rumble.

"No, I'm not an alien," he assured you.

"What are you then?"

"I'm...well.. I think I'm a vampire," he said, sounding uncertain.

A burst of disbelief mixed with terror erupted within you, and you let out a hysterical laugh.

"Vampire," you repeated, shaking your head. "Like Edward Cullen?"

"I don't know who that is," he said, frowning.

You let out another laugh, your mind reeling. It wasn't possible. Vampires weren't real.

"Y/N," he said, his voice serious. "I know this is a lot to take in, but please believe me. I am a vampire. I can't explain how or why, but it's true."

You let him talk as you grabbed your phone and searched up vampires. Showing it to him, and telling him to look at the search results.

"Sparkle in the sun? Not as far as I am aware," he commented, frowning.

"Holy water? Crucifixes?" You pressed.

"I'm not particularly religious," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Garlic?" You questioned.

"I love garlic," he replied, grinning.

"Can you fly?" You asked, wondering how many myths were true.

"I'm not sure," he said, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I've never tried."

He stood up and did a little hop with his arms raised in the air, like some sort of weird bird. You snorted and covered your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh.

"No flying," he concluded, sitting back down.

"So, how old are you?" You asked.

"No idea," he said, a sad look on his face.

"Oh my god, what if you are like one hundred years old?" You asked, your mind racing with possibilities.

"Perhaps," he mused.

You paused at the next item on the list of vampire traits, and hesitated before asking.

"And the other thing... blood," you read, your stomach turning at the thought.

"Yes," he admitted, a look of shame crossing his face.

"So, when you went into that warehouse…?" You began, remembering how he had returned, wiping his mouth.

"I was hungry, and I needed to eat," he said, his voice low.

"So you just went and killed someone?" You asked, unable to keep the judgement out of your voice.

"No, he was very much alive, just passed out," he explained.

"And you didn't kill him," you pressed, not entirely convinced.

"I didn't," he insisted.

"But what if you did? What if the next time you went to get some 'sustenance' you did actually kill them?" You asked, starting to panic.

"Y/N," he said softly, taking your hand. "I would never hurt you,"

You looked at his face, searching for any signs that he was lying. But his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity, and a hint of sadness. His gaze drifted to your lips, and his expression changed, becoming softer, and a little more intimate.

You quickly looked away, back to the list of vampire facts, and cleared your throat.

"Mind control," you read, and felt his gaze linger on you.

"Not to my knowledge," he replied.

"You can't enter a house without being invited," you continued, and his hand tightened around yours.

"Is that a request, or a demand?" He asked, his tone playful.

"It's a question," you countered, blushing slightly.

"Yes, but most invite me in without hesitation," he said, giving your hand a light squeeze. "You did,"

"Oh," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.

Your eyes went back to the mind control section, and a thought crossed your mind.

"Have you used mind control on me?" You asked, a sense of unease washing over you.

"I don't know," he admitted. "If I have, I'm not aware of it."

"Oh," you mumbled, not knowing what to say, but curiosity got the better of you. "Try to, make me do something,"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, something harmless," you said, thinking for a moment. "Make me sing a song,"

"Very well," he agreed, looking thoughtful.

You waited, expecting to start singing. But nothing happened.

"Do you feel any different?" He asked.

"No, nothing," you said, disappointed.

"I don't know what else to suggest," he said, a frown marring his features.

"I don't know, look me in the eye and tell me to do it? Like... Tell yourself you can do it? I don't know… maybe it's a belief thing…?" you offered.

He nodded, and then turned to look directly at you. His dark eyes were intense, and his lips curved into a smile.

"Sing me a song, sweet girl," he said, his voice echoing strangely in your mind.

You told yourself not to sing, to sit quietly and not react. You repeated it over and over, until the words were all that was in your head.

But his voice seeped into the ribbons of your brain, dancing behind your eyes. You lost your awareness of time and space, and suddenly, a melody rose up from within you.

You opened your mouth and the words came tumbling out, and you started singing an old song that had been stuck in your head for days.

Elijah sat back and looked surprised, a small smile on his lips. You stopped singing, your face flushing in embarrassment.

"Holy shit," you gasped, a strange sensation creeping through your mind, like cobwebs being blown away. "It worked,".

"You have a lovely voice," he said, his tone gentle and kind.

"How did you do that?" You asked, feeling unnerved.

"I don't know," he admitted, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "I just believed that I could, and you did as I asked,"

You suddenly stood up, tossing the blankets off of you and heading to your wine rack.

"I need a drink," you declared, and picked a random bottle.

You poured yourself a generous amount, and drank it all in one gulp. Then poured yourself another glass. You looked over at him, and noticed the way his eyes followed the glass as it reached your lips.

"Do you want some?" You asked, the wine giving you courage.

"No, thank you," he replied.

You sat back down on the sofa, and took a long sip. Thinking about all the possibilities of what his vampire status meant.

"Could you mind control my mortgage payments away?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Possibly," he said, smiling a little.

"Could you use your super speed to clean my apartment?" You teased, taking another sip.

"You're not thinking big enough," he replied, his grin growing wider. "I would love to leave this city, find a home in a new town and live a normal life."

"I'm not sure normal is something you could ever be," you quipped, raising an eyebrow.

"You might have a point," he conceded, his tone wistful.

He pointed to the artwork on your walls, you had purchased them at Ikea ages ago. They were those generic wanderlust posters of different famous travel destinations.

"Pick one," he said.

"What?"

"I'll take you there," he offered, his voice soft.

"Seriously?"

"I owe you so much, I think this is the least I can do," he replied.

You stared at him, your mind struggling to process his offer. Was he for real? Was he really willing to take you around the world?

"Paris," you blurted out, a blush rising to your cheeks. "I've always wanted to go,"

"Paris it is," he agreed, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Really?" You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your voice.

"Absolutely," he said, his tone sincere. "I would love nothing more than to take you."

"That's so sweet," you gushed, your face heating up even more.

"So, Paris?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Yeah," you agreed, nodding your head.

"Then we will leave first thing in the morning," he said, his expression brightening.

"But I have work... I need to take time off-" you started to say.

"Forget about all of that," he cut you off, his tone gentle. "I can mind control people, remember? I'll just take care of everything,"

You laughed, the ridiculousness of the situation finally hitting you. He was a vampire, who had mind control powers, and was offering to take you on a trip to Paris.

"This is insane," you giggled, feeling slightly hysterical.

"Indeed," he agreed, grinning.

You finished your wine and set the glass down on the coffee table. His proximity was starting to make you feel hot, and a little giddy.

"So," you began, trying to distract yourself. "I guess I'll go pack my bags,"

"I can buy you anything we need when we arrive," he suggested.

"Are we gonna fly? Like on a plane?"

"I was thinking that I could just jump really hard and we can just land in Paris," he said, a serious expression on his face.

"Oh shut up," you giggled, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.

He chuckled and shook his head.

You smiled and sat back, taking a moment to reflect on the day's events. It had been an emotional roller coaster, and your head was still reeling from the revelation that vampires were real, and sitting in your apartment. But the prospect of a trip to Paris made your heart flutter with joy.

"I can't believe I'm going to Paris," you said, letting out a happy sigh.

"We," he corrected, smiling.

"We," you echoed, a warm feeling spreading through you and a huge grin appearing on your face.

This was going to be the best vacation ever.

France was just as magical as you imagined it would be. Elijah took you to the most luxurious hotel in the city, and ordered a feast fit for royalty. The food was incredible, the atmosphere romantic, and the company... Well the company was a bit odd.

The vampire man, who could control humans with his mind, who had saved you from being mugged, and who was now whisking you around the world, was a little hard to ignore.

What was harder to ignore was the raging jealousy you felt every time someone flirted with him. He was like a magnet for hot people of all kinds, and they would flock to him like moths to a flame.

It was ridiculous really. How they would throw themselves at him, practically begging him to fuck them, and he would politely decline. You felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing that no matter how good looking they were, no matter how talented their tongue, his attention belonged to you.

You were currently strolling along the Seine, admiring the sights, when you noticed a group of young women watching Elijah.

"They're looking at you," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

Elijah didn't bother looking up from his guidebook, but a smirk spread across his lips.

"I'm sure they are," he replied, sounding amused.

"Why are girls so obsessed with you?" You asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

"I have been told I'm... As the young say these days, a snack," he said, laughing at his own joke.

You couldn't help but snort and laugh along with him. He was a complete dork sometimes, and it made him all the more endearing.

He looked over at you and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had been feeding from plenty of tourists, much healthier blood than the people he found on the streets of New York. His complexion was no longer the sickly grey it had been. Now he looked healthier, his skin glowing, and his eyes shining.

"Do you think I'm a snack?" He asked, his tone playful.

"I think you're an entire six course meal," you replied, trying to sound cool.

"Is that so?" He asked, an eyebrow raising.

You flushed and looked away, trying to hide your embarrassment. Why were you acting like such a teenager?

"Yeah," you murmured, fidgeting with your jacket zipper.

"Perhaps you'd like a bite," he said, his voice low and inviting.

"Oh stop it," you groaned, pushing him playfully.

"No seriously, I've seen how you look at me. You want to sink your teeth into me," he teased, giving you a wink.

"That's you, Mr. Vampire," you retorted, sticking your tongue out at him.

He grinned and reached for your hand, taking it in his and bringing it to his lips.

Your heart rate increased, and your cheeks flushed. You could feel the heat rising to your face, and you quickly pulled away.

"You're such a flirt," you finally managed, shaking your head. "I bet if you kissed the hand of one of those girls over there, they would swoon right into the river,"

"I could," he agreed, looking at the group of young women.

The group of girls noticed him looking and they quickly began giggling and whispering amongst themselves. One of the girls waved at him and he waved back, his expression playful.

You couldn't help but smile at his antics. He seemed much happier here in Europe than he did back home, and his smile was infectious.

"See, they are already falling over themselves for you," you laughed.

One of the girls broke off from the group and walked up to Elijah. She was stunning, with long blonde hair, and big brown eyes. She said something to him in French, and he laughed and responded.

When you landed in France, Elijah could speak French perfectly. He didn't even notice he was doing it until you called him out on it. Making you both wonder just how much knowledge was locked away inside his mind.

You couldn't understand what they were saying, but the conversation seemed lighthearted. He took your hand and kissed it again, before saying something else to the girl.

She giggled and looked at you, giving you a wide smile. "Zhou are very lucky to 'ave such a fine 'usband."

You were shocked by her words, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Oh, we're not married," you stammered, shaking your head.

"Oh," she said, her eyebrows raising. "'E is zee lover?"

You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you. The idea of Elijah being your lover was too ridiculous to consider. But before you could correct her again, he spoke up.

"Oui, je suis votre amant," he purred, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.

Your stomach clenched at his words, and your mind struggled to come up with a response.

"Oui, oui, très romantique," the girl giggled, giving you a knowing look. "I'll let you get back to your 'oneymoon,"

She waved at you, and you awkwardly waved back.You watched her join her friends, who all began whispering and giggling again, the blonde fanning herself dramatically and clutching her chest.

"Did you just tell her that we were lovers?" You asked, turning to look at him.

His lips twitched into a faint smile, though he avoided meeting your gaze. “I thought it might discourage her interest.”

Your irritation faltered, replaced by something warmer. “She’s beautiful, Elijah. Why wouldn’t you want her attention?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the cobblestones. When he finally looked up, his dark eyes were steady but uncertain. “Because she’s not you.”

The world seemed to tilt, the bustling streets fading into silence. You stared at him, your chest tight.

“Elijah...” you began, but whatever you were about to say was lost as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative kiss.

It was soft at first, hesitant, as though he were unsure if he was doing it right. But when you responded, your hands gripping his coat, your lips parting for him, his hesitation melted away. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.

The sound of giggles broke the spell, and you pulled back, breathless and flushed. The group of girls was watching you, their laughter light and teasing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Elijah’s forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Was that... acceptable?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

You laughed softly, your hand sliding to his jaw. “More than acceptable.”

Relief flickered across his face, though his cheeks were still flushed. “I wasn’t sure if I...” He trailed off, his uncertainty palpable.

“You were perfect,” you whispered, your thumb brushing over his cheek.

His lips curved into a small smile, and for a moment, the two of you simply stood there, the city alive around you but forgotten in the haze of the moment.

"That was my first kiss," he said with a small laugh.

You smiled, your hand cupping his cheek, tracing along his jawline. Taking in his handsome face, his deep brown eyes, his soft lips. You wanted more, you wanted it all.

"I have a strong feeling you've done that plenty of times before, you just don't remember," you teased, your gaze darting to his lips.

He let out a nervous chuckle, his fingers gently caressing your sides.

"Perhaps," he conceded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You stood on your tiptoes, and leaned in close, your lips inches away from his.

"Maybe I should refresh your memory," you said, your voice soft and flirty, "Back at our hotel,"

"Yes," he agreed, his smile growing wider. "And after, perhaps we could discuss this 'lover' business further,"

You snorted and playfully hit him on the shoulder, and his deep, sexy laugh echoed through the streets of Paris.

"Shut up, you are so cheesy," you giggled, your cheeks hurting from how wide your grin was.

He took your hand and kissed the top, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Let's go," he said, his voice warm and full of promise.

The two of you rushed down the street, and headed back to the hotel. The possibilities running through your head, making your heart pound with excitement.

Paris was already the most romantic place on earth, but now, with Elijah by your side, it was about to become unforgettable.

It had been quite a while since you last had sex, and you were feeling more than a little pent up. It also didn't help that Elijah was stupidly hot and a complete gentleman.

You had fantasized about him multiple times since the moment you met, and now the opportunity to make those dreams a reality was right in front of you.

You wondered what having sex with a vampire would be like, would he use his fangs? Would he be gentle or rough? You shivered, the thought exciting you more than it should.

The two of you rode the elevator up to your room in silence, both of you trying not to rush, but the tension was thick. He was holding your hand, and when the doors opened, you both hurried down the hall.

You let out a squeal as he scooped you up before you reached the door, carrying you the rest of the way. He used his supernatural speed, and before you could register what was happening, he was already kicking the door open and stepping inside.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and the excitement coursing through your veins. He gently placed you on the bed, and you let out a soft gasp as he crawled over you.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and soft.

You could feel the blush spreading across your face, and the heat pooling in your core. He kissed your neck, and you let out a soft moan.

"I confess I haven't done this before," he murmured against your skin, his hands caressing your sides.

"I really doubt that," you said with a laugh, your voice breathless. "Have you seen yourself? Whoever you were before you lost your memories... He was a ladies man, I can guarantee it,"

He laughed and shook his head, slowly unbuttoning your dress.

"I suppose I'll just have to rely on my instincts," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face.

And those instincts... were impeccable.

His hands were warm and gentle on your bare skin, his lips soft and teasing. He took his time taking off your dress, savoring the moment, until you were finally lying beneath him, completely naked.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising in your face. His eyes were dark and hungry, and you were desperately trying to keep your cool. But it was nearly impossible, especially with his perfect body looming over you.

You leaned up and kissed him, a deep, passionate kiss that left you breathless. Your hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from his pants. He chuckled, helping you remove his clothing. Your fingers traced along his firm chest, and down his arms, enjoying the feel of his skin.

You could tell he was a little nervous, his movements slow and tentative. He avoided your gaze, but kept glancing at you. A slight blush crept up his cheeks, and he let out a soft sigh.

"I do not wish to disappoint you," he confessed. "I fear I may fail at this task,"

You cupped his cheek, and gave him a soft smile.

"It's okay," you reassured him, your tone gentle. "We'll figure it out together,"

He nodded, and let out a shaky breath. You kissed him, trying to help him relax, and he returned the gesture with a little more confidence.

You gently guided his hands to where you wanted them, showing him what made you feel good. His fingers gently brushed over your slit, and a soft moan escaped you. He looked a little surprised, but his lips curved into a faint smile.

He began to explore, his thumb circling your clit. His movements were slow and deliberate, and you found yourself arching into his touch.

"Like this?" He asked, his voice soft and teasing.

"Mhm," you murmured, a blissful smile on your lips.

He kissed your neck, and you could feel his fangs brushing against your skin. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through you, and a soft moan slipped out.

His fingers eased inside you, curling just right, and you couldn't help but gasp. He let out a soft laugh, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you.

"I take it that's the right spot?" He teased, his voice low and seductive.

"Mhm," you moaned, nodding your head.

"What a pretty little sound," he praised, his lips brushing against your ear.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, and he continued his gentle assault on your senses. His fingers worked you slowly, and his lips on yours felt divine.

The heat was rising, and you could feel the pressure building inside you. His thumb teased your clit, and his fingers stroked you just right. Your hips rocked against his hand, and he let out a soft hum of approval.

"Elijah," you moaned, your voice low and breathless.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

"I'm so close," you panted, your nails digging into his skin.

"Go on," he urged, his fingers increasing their pace.

Your breath caught in your throat, your legs trembling. The heat was almost unbearable, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. You closed your eyes, lost in the sensation, and then it was crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

You opened your eyes, and he was watching you with a bit of wonder in his gaze. You flushed, your heart still pounding in your chest. You could feel the heat in his eyes, and you knew he was enjoying this as much as you were.

When the aftershocks finally faded, he gently withdrew his fingers, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, and a sense of need overtook you.

You splayed your hands on his chest and pushed him onto his back, straddling him, and giving him a good view of your body.

He looked up at you with wide eyes, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed. He was gorgeous, and you felt a surge of pride knowing that he was yours.

Your hands were moving steadily downward, and when they reached his belt, you slowly started unbuckling it.

His breathing was getting heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you touched him through his boxers. He let out a low groan, his hands reaching for your hips, pulling you closer.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, his arousal pressing against your core. His eyes were hooded, and his breathing was ragged. You slowly pulled his boxers down, his thick cock springing free.

"My my," you said with a smirk, taking his length in your hands and stroking him gently. "Is this all for me?"

He groaned, his hips rocking forward, eager for more contact.

"All yours," he panted, his voice low and husky.

You could see the desire in his eyes, the need burning within him. And as his fingers dug into your hips, guiding you into position, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto his length, hissing as he stretched and filled you.

"Oh," you moaned, your head tilting back as he bottomed out.

He was big, and it had been awhile, you reached out for him, and he sat up and took your hands, kissing each one.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his tone soft and concerned.

"Yes," you breathed, your eyes meeting his. "You feel really good,"

His lips curved into a satisfied smile, and his fingers caressed the small of your back, gently encouraging you to move.

You began rocking your hips, slowly at first, and then building up to a steady pace. You were panting, the friction delicious, and he was gripping your hips tightly, his own movements matching yours.

The room was filled with the sounds of your pleasure, the bed creaking beneath you, the headboard tapping against the wall. The scent of sex and desire permeating the air.

You could feel the flush spreading across your cheeks, and the heat building inside you. He was hitting all the right spots, and the look on his face was making you even more turned on.

He was watching you with such intensity, his gaze focused on your expression. Every time you moaned, or shuddered in pleasure, his lips would curve into a satisfied smirk, and his grip would tighten on your hips.

You were close, the pressure coiling within you, and you could tell he was close too. His movements were becoming more frantic, and his breathing was coming in short gasps.

You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He responded eagerly, pushing you backwards, and pinning you beneath him. He gripped your hips tightly, his thrusts becoming harder, faster.

You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders. You were so close, teetering on the edge, and then you felt his fangs brush against your neck, and that was all it took.

The pressure released, waves of pleasure washing over you, and you cried out, your legs shaking. He groaned, his movements becoming erratic, and then he was spilling himself inside you, his cock throbbing and twitching.

He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot on your neck, and his skin slick with sweat. Your fingers gently traced along his spine, and he let out a satisfied hum.

He rolled off of you, and laid down beside you, his hand reaching for yours. You laid on your side, and intertwined your fingers with his, a content smile on your lips.

"That was amazing," you breathed, letting out a soft laugh.

He chuckled, his eyes fluttering shut.

"I agree," he murmured, his tone soft and sleepy.

You gently kissed his forehead, and then his cheek, and his lips. He smiled, his eyes closed, his expression peaceful.

You had never seen him like this before, and it made your heart swell. You couldn't help but lean forward and place a kiss on his chest, right above his heart.

You scooted closer, resting your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.

"I love you," you whispered, your fingers gently tracing along his collarbone.

He stirred slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

You smiled, snuggling against him, and letting the warmth of his body lull you to sleep.

It had been a long, strange journey, and there were still so many questions left unanswered, but in that moment, none of that mattered.

All that mattered was the man next to you, and the promise of what the future held.

[saixria]

@angels-bullshit well you asked for it TELEMACHUS RAMBLE

I’m sure there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that Telemachus represents open arms. For one, he immediately accepts Athena as his friend with open arms and offers the goddess of wisdom some wisdom in We’ll be fine, that’s just. Peak open arms behavior.

Besides the obvious, we can look into the motif (literary, not musical) of light vs dark in the musical (which might also be obvious but anyway). Even if we ignore Polites’ whole cut song “Your Light” about being Odysseus’ “light”, the light motif is actually kept in Open Arms — “we can light up the world here’s how to start”. I think this motif symbolizes the positive impact of open arms. Much like Circe said, “maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road”. If you inspire the world around you by being kind, you will in turn be treated with kindness. This is contrasted by the motifs of darkness in “I am your darkest moment” and “the world is dark” signifying ruthlessness. Instead of trying to change the ruthless world around you, you must become ruthless too to survive. There’s inherent selfishness to ruthlessness since you’re ensuring your own survival over others.

WHAT A TANGENT OK HOW DOES THIS RELATE TO TELEMACHUS? He has this line in Legendary “so I could bring the world some light” which references Polites’ whole “light up the world”. Let’s not forget “tell me Athena why you came to my aid” has the same melody as “what keeps you up so late at night my friend” from cut song Ismarus where Polites is asking Odysseus this. (HM I WONDER WHAT OTHER CHARACTER IS UNABLE TO SLEEP DUE TO GUILT)

The light thing comes back so many times in we’ll be fine. “Then his light went dark” (can be interpreted as Polites, his “light”, dying, but I prefer to interpret it as him basically getting traumatized, losing his original enthusiasm in his belief that everything would go smoothly and he’d be able to get home with all 600 men as he suffers his very first casualties) “life could be that bright” — Not only is Athena talking about Odysseus losing his light, she herself has also lost hers as she lost her one and only friend and the positive impact he had on her life, and now it feels as though her life has gone dark.

“I know it’s light you’ll find” — Telemachus is literally acting as Athena’s light here as Polites was Odysseus’ 😭😭 he encourages her to help Odysseus, to embrace the Open Arms ideology of making a positive impact on the world around you and you’ll end up positively affected as well. In bringing Odysseus light, perhaps she herself will also regain hers. From all this, Telemachus clearly represents Open Arms and is to Athena what Polites was to Odysseus.

Now how does Telemachus embody ruthlessness? This part is much shorter since we don’t have as much to analyze (perhaps we’ll get more in Ithaca saga) but Telemachus doesn’t shy away from being ruthless when the need arises either. He fights Antinuous in Little Wolf to defend his family’s honor, and in Ithaca saga he will also help kill the suitors (perhaps we will get more on his mindset here, but don’t take my word on that). He is willing to do what it takes, even if it’s cruel like hunting down all the suitors, to protect his family, and killing the suitors IS what’s necessary and an act of ruthlessness.

(Though actually this is making me realize “boy I wish I could so I could bring the world some light” was referring to… killing monsters. Maybe this shows that even in Legendary he’s wanted to make a positive impact on the world by being ruthless in a way, further showing that he’s the true balance of Ruthlessness and Open Arms)

Anyway, Telemachus was really only able to achieve this balance because of his circumstances, just as Odysseus was forced to fully embrace ruthlessness because of his. While Telemachus has faced hardships (the suitors) that requires ruthlessness to be dealt with, hes also a crowned, sheltered prince, largely unaffected by even darker aspects of the world like war and death as Odysseus has been, so Telemachus was able to retain part of his innocence and his “light” while Odysseus’ was stripped from him. Both of them were products of their environments, and it’s quite fitting how Odysseus went to war to protect his son, and his son ended up being a “better” person than Odysseus was forced to become. Telemachus means “far from battle”, and indeed Odysseus has succeeded in keeping his son far from the darkness of war and its aftermath.

[chiso]

Exercise burns WAY too little calories to beat a bad diet, that is very true. I also lost the weight I lost (which his 20kg since summer 2023) through diet alone. Perhaps I did SOME exercise if you count the physical strength and steps you HAVE to do when you walk around in a warehouse, but I was "fat" back then even while working there before, so I don't think it made that much of a difference.

Ofc it's fine to stay happy and learn to love yourself as you are, I just know that I for myself couldn't and I find myself way more attractive now that I lost weight and for anyone who is like me and wants to shed some kgs without a horrible diet that ends in a yoyo- I'll add what I did under here, btw this is for no profit at all, I just want to help fellow people unhappy in their skin and I thought for WAY TOO LONG that losing weight is impossible, when it's actually not that hard.

It's annoying af, I know, but calories count. Get an app that calculates your daily need of calories. It needs your height, age and weight to know the right number. Once you have that, you can extract 100-300 kcal from that total and make this your goal to eat less of that every day for a few weeks, you'll see the weight WILL get down. The scale will sometimes stay the same weight for weeks though but if you keep going you WILL see the change!

Additional to step 1- 100-300 kcal we sometimes take in just with a sweet drink or a snack. It's not that hard to eat less of it and you can still get full! You can google low kcal meals that you can eat lots of- A personal tip from me is eating thin wraps (the thinner the less kcal) with salmon or other protein fillings- since protein makes you full AND is necessary for weight loss and muscle gain. BTW don't you dare to eat less than that, it WILL hinder your weight loss, we need a certain amount of calories to work!!!!!!

Protein, you have to eat enough protein a day for this all to be lasting. I read you have to eat your bodyweight (kg) in grams of protein in a day. For example, back when I was 60kg, I had to eat 60g protein a day. But also don't beat yourself up over it if you don't get that amount daily, I didn't either, just try to whenever you can, and it'll help!

ADD your workout. I had an app that also counted my steps and automatically added the kcal I burned to my daily kcal app. It motivated me to move more because 10k steps is like 100kcal and that was 100kcal I could eat more even WHILE dieting.

Cheat meals. Important: MEAL not day, every Saturday or Sunday I had a cheat meal, sometimes even smth as big as a burger on TOP of my usual daily intake. It helps your metabolism and body to stop thinking you're starving (which makes weight loss slower) so it's not only helpful in case you're starving to eat more (bc ngl it WILL be hard until your stomach has shrinked a lil but you can do it if I did bby) but also helps your diet physically fr! So do these!!! Reward yourself for your hard work

"So does that mean I will 4ever have to count calories?" God no, I did it for over a year until I was sick of it myself. I went from 68kg down to 49kg, when I stopped counting I gained again ofc, but I still know now what contains how many calories and know by heart what I can eat and what I shouldn't. I am 52kg for months now and I don't gain anything more and even if I would, I would know now how to lose it again if it gets really bad. THAT WAS BASICALLY already it. I know not every day will be easy and sometimes you WILL mess up. The trick is not to beat yourself up over it and keep going! Wearing the cute clothes you always wanted to wear will be SO rewarding and worth it, at least it was for me. Disclaimer that I never had children, don't have diabetes, and am in my early 30ies so idk if this will work for everyone but it did for me, and if this just helps one soul my job here is already done!!

Me: Exercise does not cause weight loss. This is a fact that has been demonstrated so robustly in research that even doctors, who hate and fear evidence, are grudgingly starting to admit this.

Someone reading that post: Cool, but have you considered that exercise leads to weight loss?

Me: I am going to eat you

[witchtwig]

Costuming, Connections, and Constructing Meaning Agatha All Along Thoughts

This isn’t an essay. This is just rambling and plucking at the threads of thoughts I’ve had since the end of Agatha. Also apologies for the fact this is all over the place. I just really wanted to start sorting out some of the visual signifiers I was fixated on when looking at the Agatha All Along designs.

The costuming design, art, and choices made on Agatha All Along are phenomenal. And it is clear from just reading through Daniel Selon’s instagram how much thought and effort went into the work of making those looks stand out as strong as they did. In particular, I have been fascinated by two looks of Agatha’s—her witch’s look (first introduced in Wandavision) and her spirit’s look. In particular, I want to consider them through the lens of what they say about Agatha and potentially where she is going, but also, hypothetically, her relationship to the original Green Witch, Death, Rio Vidal. 

Agatha Harkness, Wandavision

As noted above, Agatha’s witch look was first seen in Wandavision. This is important in the context of Rio, because as a character she had not been introduced or even conceptualized yet. Despite that, I do think there are some interesting design choices on the costume that with the introduction of Rio, can be reanalyzed through that relationship (and to Nicholas, Agatha’s (and likely Rio’s) son). Specifically if we look at the neckline/chest design of the piece—there is a fascinating embroidery work. Tendrils of vines or roots mask off her chest, reminiscent of a scar. This is where her locket with Nicholas’s hair centrally sits (which, in episode 8, has fallen off and not worn during her battle with Rio). 

During episode 9, we see Agatha create a cairn over the burial of her son Nicholas. In this moment, she sings through tears that she “buried my own heart here with you, my child.” A central point of Agatha Harkness’ character throughout her journey in Agatha All Along, is that she is closed off to the point of using deceit to manipulate and obscure attempts to know or truly see her. And to turn back to the costume—this design work indicates the hidden nature of her heart. 

We can look too, beyond her witch’s costume, to her costuming within the fourth episode during the fire trial. Agatha’s heart is momentarily exposed, but she closes it off and hides it, specifically when her ex-lover, Rio, attempts to create a floor with her. It is interesting then to note that Rio has her heart on full display that entire conversation. 

Rio Vidal and Agatha Harkness, Agatha All Along episode 4

And to go further, we can also note that Rio’s costuming as Death in episode 8, quite literally exposes her obsidian heart. Where Agatha’s heart is hidden (scarred over, perhaps), Rio’s heart is on full display. Looking back at Rio’s episode 1 appearance near the end, she declares that her heart is black and beats for (you) Agatha.

Rio Vidal as Death, Agatha All Along episode 8

This is the fundamental crux of the struggle between these two characters in full display in the design choices of their costuming. Agatha’s heart is no longer on display or truly reachable (it has been buried, by Nicholas’ death, by Rio’s existence as death), versus Rio’s heart on constant display (open and yearning). To me, this is what makes the costuming and design choices of Agatha’s outfit as a spirit in episode 9 very interesting, because it suggests a shift, an evolution of her character (that may not have come into view fully yet, but can be explored moving forward).

Agatha Harkness, ghost costume behind the scenes

Agatha’s costume as a spirit has shifted from the closed, vine-covered design, to a more open space. Through death, through Death, accepting her lover, Agatha has found herself at a new point within her existence. One that allows light in, one where her closed off heart is no longer hidden under the weight, vines, and scarring of the loss of her son (and I would argue the trauma of her struggle to accept and feel comfortable in her love of Rio). 

The costuming change between her witch’s outfit and her ghost outfit also has a shift in the overall patterning of the upper portion of the design. As a spirit, the bodice now has an intricate line pattern, which could be argued to be reminiscent of Rio’s branching patterns.

Agatha and Rio's looks side by side

Daniel Selon noted on his Instagram the ghost design for Agatha that the costume’s letting in of light was her letting go of the weight of those she had taken the lives of over the years, I think too it more importantly could indicate the potential for her to begin to actually emotionally connect again with her heart no longer hidden. And if we look to the fact she both pointed out that she did not kiss Rio for Billy’s sake (further pushed by Jac Schaffer in an interview), and the fact she noted it was not Billy who released her from the hex (he merely loosened the lid), on top of her understanding that “sometimes… boys die”—this all could allow for her and Rio to reunite in the future on better footing. 

This of course hinges on the fact Agatha does begin to do some of the emotional work on herself that she has been avoiding, by helping Billy and giving herself the thing she felt she lost when she lost Nicholas. But the possibility for her to do that work is now there. She took a step in no longer denying her own emotions through her kiss with Rio, and has the possibility to work through her grief more fully through Billy. 

It should also be noted again that by and large, Agatha is not a very communicative person when it comes to her emotions. This is even more so true when acknowledging her feelings around Nicholas and Rio. She only calls Rio by her name once throughout the show, and not even to her face. She never divulges the truth of what happened to Nicholas to Billy, despite the youth seeking that knowledge. So, it is important then for her to wear visual markers of both on her, even where she will not voice their story—she is wrapped up in them all the same, still. 

It will be interesting to see where these characters go from here, because it is doubtful this is the last of any of them. And either way, symbolically, I think there is a lot of positive potential, tucked away into the costuming and design choices. Thanks for reading my weird little ramble!  

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Do you think that Ms. Bustier is overhated?

Not particularly. I don't have any strong feelings about her, but she's clearly a terrible teacher who is in way over her head. I totally understand why she sets some people off. If she was a real person that I actually had to deal with, then she'd probably set me off, too, because she so perfectly encapsulates toxic positivity. If you're not familiar with that term, then here's a quick definition:

Toxic positivity is the act of avoiding, suppressing, or rejecting negative emotions or experiences. This may take the form of denying your own emotions or someone else denying your emotions, insisting on positive thinking instead. Although setting aside difficult emotions is sometimes necessary temporarily, denying negative feelings long term is harmful because it can prevent people from processing their emotions and overcoming their distress.

Read that definition and then look at this scene from Zombiezou:

Marinette: But Miss Bustier, it's so not fair! It was Chloé, pulling another...Chloé! And...I'm the one who's getting in trouble?! Miss Bustier: Of course you're not in trouble, don't worry! As the class representative, I want you to set a good example for your classmates. Don't give into feelings of anger. Try to forgive Chloé instead. Marinette: I don't get it... Chloé is the meanest person I've ever known. Miss Bustier: Come on... There are much worse people in Paris right now than Chloé Bourgeois. I'm sure people like Chloé are capable of great things. The problem is, they only think of themselves. They don't understand the meaning of love, and we can't force them to change. But perhaps we can show them by setting a good example. That's why Marinettes are so important in today's world; because they have a lot of love to give. I'm counting on you. Marinette: Yes, Miss Bustier.

This is toxic positivity in action. Marinette is told to set aside her extremely valid feelings as if anger is a terrible thing, but it isn't. All emotions have their place and ignoring them can do real harm, a lesson that Miraculous really struggles with. It seems to see "negative" emotions as bad and they're really not. What matters is how we express and address our emotions, not that we experience them. If you want to see a family friendly piece of media do this topic right, then go watch Pixar's Inside Out.

There's also the fact that Chloé is never punished for her actions in this episode. She ruined a gift that probably took Marinette hours and yet Miss Bustier puts the onus to fix things on Marinette, blaming the victim and doing nothing to actually fix the situation. Canon mildly complicates this with Chloé's father's willingness to meddle, making punishing her apparently impossible, but Miss Bustier doesn't even acknowledge that here. The stated logic is that you need to be nice to your bully and that will hopefully magically fix things, which is a terrible lesson that I don't want any kid to learn! What kind of logic is that?

I'll admit that I'm a big fan of "an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind," but that doesn't mean that you should never acknowledge harm or fight back. It just means that you need to be measured in your responses and pick your battles wisely. If this episode was about that, then I'd be fine with it, but that's not the lesson here. There is no point where the wrong done to Marinette is even mildly acknowledged. Miss Bustier's initial reaction to seeing Marinette's ruined gift is:

Miss Bustier: Well, I think this present is wonderful. It'll be my new cosmetics bag! Then I'll be able to think of both of you every time I use it.

And we go straight from that to the toxic positivity.

Something is wrong with this woman. You shouldn't even take this approach with preschoolers! While I could see this being a good final solution to something like Chloé scribbling on Marinette's drawing, Chloé's behavior still needs to be addressed. She is still the one in the wrong here. The one whose behavior needs to change.

This is one of many cases where there are two paths to take with this character. The writers clearly want Miss Bustier to be a wonderful teacher, but they wrote a victim-blaming disaster who shouldn't be in charge of anyone. If you're ever adapting her, then it's up to you if you want to redesign her into her intended self or if you want to lean into the bad writing. I think both paths have merit because the writing is so bad that there is no way to make canon Caline work as a good teacher. She's too fundamentally flawed so you either acknowledge how awful she is or do a major overhaul where she's much less forgiving and actually acknowledges things like the Chloé problem.

[lu-is-not-ok]

Regarding Hong Lu's Lasso EGO. The abno of Rose Hunter in its MD event actually has two 'parts', of the apple and the hunter. Given how he shares this one with Faust of all people, I do think it may be referencing how they are both the one forcing the story to go on and the one being forced to go along with it. This is about Hong Lu I swear its just the more you dig the more he somewhat parallels her. One vs two blue eyes I guess.

For Faust this is via the Gesellschaft. Her as the apple in the way she must bend to the will of the collective Faust as one with a defined role to play. And as the hunter with how she - for the sake of someone else just the abno has its 'client' (there's a few who could fit this description, like Limbus Company as a whole, whomever is financing the whole operation, the Gesellschaft again) - ensures via various methods like keeping certain things from the sinners that things go according to plan.

Her passive is 'sprawling lasso' is possibly a reference to just how many she has, must, encircle for things to keep going. Plus this EGO is Fatal to Wrath and Gloom. This Wrath as her weakness ties into how this is the first time her voiceline, for corrosion, has expressed proper anger and desperation in her voice as far as I remeber. And Gloom I don't quite have a real reason for, perhaps her lament at not doing things of her own will? At being ensared as all others were?

But to loop lasso it back to Hong Lu, for one his awakening voiceline says to 'run along the flow' which has been causing me normal reactions for several weeks now. Regardless, this does tie into a mini theory of mine that the 'flow' followed by Vergillius is in fact one of the subterranean rivers, though I don't have the mythological knowledge to try and pinpoint which one.

And if we do take the stretch of a river = the flow then it connects to what Xichun was doing in Canto 7 and is yet another reference to water, just like in his base ego and in his promo image. This EGO is also weak to Gloom, funnily enough. Sloth too, though I have never had solid thoughts on that sin past it representing acceptance of sorts, typically to a status quo that hurts them. The corrosion line is presumably a reference to him probably just running away from his family the first chance he got, which was probably Faust.

Onto my thoughts on the illustrations, which was meant to be a minor note but we all know how these go. The thorns in Faust’s EGO illust are thinner and look more like rose branches, with one notably going over her leg as she looks up, seemingly about to get on the horse.

Whilst Hong Lu's has much thicker brambles around the edges - though the rose branches do appear near the bottom - striking me as similar to barbed wire, though thicker than in the base EGO illusts (speaking of, in his the wire seems much fuzzier than say, Yi Sang's). He's already saddled the horse and is looking down(?) At something that has already been entangled in thorns, the abno looking over him and who/what has been ensnared in a way that reminds me of judgement.

Ensnared itself, mind, seemingly lacking an arm, having another mangled and literally no legs to speak of, and no rose on its scarf. A drastic departure to how it was in Faust’s EGO, laying traps on the ground with all its limbs freed and intact, with a sunray to its side and a rose placed neatly upon itself, much more alike its MD self. Hong Lu's awakening is not lacking in the scarf rose, though.

Other rapid-fire thoughts: (corrosion) the rose petals on the horses look like it's bleeding as if being slashed from the stomach. (corrosion) Faust still has the reigns and very much uses them which provides her a degree of separation and control over this. Hong Lu does not. Most notable in both of their hurt sprites, Faust’s horse stands on its hind legs on her (or the Gesellschaft's, depending on how you think on it) command, Hong Lu's horse wants to run away and it turning to do so. (corrosion) Hong Lu's noose/lasso arms both have 2 loops each, unlike the one round his neck that has 3. Faust has red laces.

To close this off: I have been switching between their lasso sprites on the wiki and have one question: is Hong Lu smaller on his horse or had my brain made that up, thank you.

Hilarious thing to see before scrolling down and seeing all of this. Anyway. Let's pick this apart a little.

First things - the apple might not actually be a part of the Abnormality itself.

We know from Ebony Queen's Apple's Observation Log that Abnormalities that are conceptually connected through what they represent are in some way able to be aware of each other's existence - Ebony Queen being aware of 'Snow White', aka LobCorp's Snow White's Apple.

Considering that Rose Hunter is seemingly likely connected to the same fable of Snow White as Ebony Queen's Apple and Snow White's Apple are, specifically in that he represents the huntsman sent to kill Snow White on the Queen's orders, and that the way Rose Hunter describes the apple perfectly matches Snow White's Apple ("an apple that will become a princess, not knowing its rightful place"), it's possible that the apple in question *is* just straight up Snow White's Apple, or a representation of it.

I do agree that it's important to keep it in mind when interpreting Lasso, but I believe it's pretty clear that the apple itself might not inherently be a part of Rose Hunter itself.

After all, Lasso isn't the first E.G.O we've seen where the Sinner is shown to be both the victim and the perpetrator. See AEDD and Capote as the major stars of this trend.

I don't have much to comment on regarding your interpretation of Lasso for Faust - I think that works pretty well with what we know. Faust has to follow what the Gesselschaft and Limbus Company tell her to do, and she herself is responsible for keeping the Sinners on track - keeping them ensnared and following the predetermined path of their stories.

I'll touch upon the points you bring up with regards to Sin Weaknesses (and also bring up Sin Resource Costs, which I believe are a bit more important to E.G.O) a bit later.

Because, here's the thing about the Flow Vergilius talks about - we already kinda know what it is. We see it in Leviathan Book 16.

Vergilius's narration describes the Flow as a "shadow hovering over his back". A sort of insight, or pressure that drives him to make specific choices or move in a specific direction.

He also explains how the Flow isn't one singular force - in fact, he explicitly mentions seeing at least two Flows during this chapter. One brightly colored but slow moving Flow that he could see ahead (which he feels would lead him to actually changing the City), and one darker but faster moving Flow that clung to his back. Every time he tries to avoid following the bright Flow, the shadowy Flow always leads him to ruin, to a point where he's inevitably forced to come back to the bright Flow, as all shadows naturally come from light.

It reminds me a lot of "Gravity" from JJBA, in a way. A supernatural force that drives extraordinary people towards each other and towards their inevitable fates, and every attempt to counteract it ends up making things worse for them when it finally catches up to them.

It's also, like, Heavily implied that Carmen is in some way directly involved with what direction the bright Flow takes, as there's an implication that it's trying to direct Vergilius to his inevitable meeting with Carmen that happens in Book 18, considering how much her trying to get Vergilius to distort is telling him how it would give him the ability to change the world to how he sees fit, matching what he believed the bright Flow was leading him towards.

So like. Flow isn't exactly directly related to the Rivers. But it's also not not related, considering the Carmen -> Light -> Cogito -> Rivers chain.

I don't think the "flow" Hong Lu is referring to is the exact same Flow that Vergilius can see and talks about, at least not entirely. I believe it's also meant to be a reflection of the reason why he's initially willing to follow his story, similarly to how Faust's awakening line does for her.

While Faust wholeheartedly believes that following the story laid out before her and the Sinners is the "correct" thing to do, Hong Lu simply follows along because he just Goes Along With Whatever He's Told. He figuratively goes with the flow, just agrees and follows until things turn out okay in the end. To quote one of his Base Identity's voice lines: "When you’re distraught, simply remember that life goes on even if what you’re doing now doesn’t work out. Then, you’ll be free of worries." As long as he just keeps moving forward, things will be fine in the end.

So, if the Awakening lines are a reflection of why Faust and Hong Lu would feel like they should follow along the path their story is taking, then I believe the Corrosion is a reflection of the "punishment" that awaits them if they are to stray from it. To quote Rose Hunter's MD event, "Ah... If, however, the course was derailed by your actions, you will be held accountable."

Hong Lu's Corrosion line here is the easier one to read - it's meant to be a reflection of his Family's reaction when they catch up to him after he runs away. Outright calling out that he ran away, calling him a fugitive, and the very clear threat of punishment.

For Faust it's actually a lot more interesting, because she clearly brings up the apple and the idea that whoever she caught is hiding it, rather than implying that whoever she caught is the one she was looking for. Perhaps because that's a reflection of how Faust will disobey the Gesselschaft. While Hong Lu disobeys his fate by running away from his Family, Faust would disobey her fate by hiding something from the Gesselschaft. A Golden Bough, perhaps? Instead of bringing one back to the Company, she could keep it hidden for herself, effectively disobeying her orders and the path she was put on. And an act like that would Anger Them Severely.

The thing you point out about the differences in how the Rose Hunter itself is depicted is fascinating. The one depicted in Faust's illustration seems like a direct parallel to how Faust has acted towards Sinners - she's been trapping them with Limbus Company, using their own wishes as bait and the contracts they sign as the snares.

But then there's Hong Lu's Rose Hunter, itself trapped by the snares and mangled to the point it seems there's only half of it clearly there. Half destroyed... I don't have an exact thought in my head regarding that, but you could definitely interpret it with a Two in One angle. How whoever is resonating with Rose Hunter is only Half There, and how that half is inherently trapped within themself, as the vines ensnaring it are also its own snares. Hong Lu is, in part, trapping himself, specifically Baoyu and Daiyu are unwillingly keeping each other trapped by the circumstance of their current situation.

Now. Let's talk Sin Resistances. I'm going to be using the names for the Floor Theme Packs based around the relevant Sin Weaknesses as a base here, since that's the closest thing we have to a canon confirmation of what the Resistances could mean.

The Gloom-weak floor is called Emotional Flood, the Sloth-weak floor is called Emotional Indolence, and the Wrath-weak floor is called Emotional Repression.

Both Lassos being Gloom weak could imply that whatever experiences Hong Lu and Faust have to recall to use it are heavily emotionally charged, making them susceptible to "Flooding" with negative feelings. It could be a reflection of the anxiety it causes both of them to think about - after all a major part of Rose Hunter is the punishment for not following one's path. Having to actively keep those consequences in mind to use the E.G.O would likely leave them shaken up and weak to such negative reminders.

Indolence means the avoidance of exertion or activity, and it's a close synonym to laziness. Hong Lu's Lasso being Sloth weak could reflect how emotionally numb recalling the relevant experiences leaves him. For him, following the path of the story is all about simply letting things happen and not reacting, just trying to reach the end. He's forced to become avoidant of emotional reactions through being too "lazy" to react. It's not like trying to say anything would change things for him, so why even bother trying? He'll reach the end one way or another. And so, being given even more reasons to not care and become more numb hurts all the more, ridding him of whatever little resolve he might have been holding onto.

As such, Faust's Lasso being weak to Wrath is made all the more interesting - it implies there's a level of intense emotion that the experiences bring out within her that she feels the need to repress and hide. This is different to Hong Lu's Sloth weakness, in that while Hong Lu is just straight up numb and passively avoiding feeling anything, Faust is very much feeling some sort of strong frustration that she has to actively silence. Thus it makes it far more painful to her when she's given more reasons to be annoyed - she's already struggling to keep it contained. Something about having to follow her path leaves her deeply frustrated in a way she feels she cannot let herself express, likely due to the consequences of complaining about it.

I also want to make a quick note on the Sin Resources needed to use the E.G.O, specifically the ones that differ between the two.

While both Lassos require Gluttony and Lust, Faust's Lasso requires Envy, while Hong Lu's requires Pride. This, I think, is actually reflected in their Awakening lines and thus the attitudes they have.

Faust sees following the path as something "correct", as something "right". Her own feelings and thoughts don't matter because the opinion of the story she's following is more important than hers. She's expressing Inferiority - aka, Envy.

On the other hand Hong Lu follows the path because it's something he himself believes to be the best option. He doesn't think there are better options, so he just ignores all the shit he has to go through along the way because in the end, he'll be fine. A very Pride thing to believe.

And yes, Hong Lu for whatever reason is notably smaller on the horse in the awakening sprite. No I don't know why either. It honestly might have been an oversight LMAO.

[kittymizuki]

something i like about mizuki and rui's interactions is that the first time he addresses her with the suffix "-kun" when he's asking about her name? but in every instance after this, he drops it even though he uses it to address /literally everyone/ (including the cis girls, he calls nene "nene-kun" for instance). makes me wonder if mizuki herself voiced her discomfort with it after explaining that she's trans to him or if he picked up on this on his own? either way, i like that he's considerate towards her even if he doesn't fully Get her...

i also love that mizuki here immediately assumes (perhaps a little unfairly towards rui even if it's understandable) that there's some narrativization on rui's end towards her which is rooted in a voyeuristic fascination in her as a person with a unique gendered experience that ties into how she's often treated as an object or an exhibit by everyone? it also makes sense in the context of her genre awareness and performativity bc mizuki is /very/ hypercognizant of tropes and the archetypes she's often forced to occupy?

it's this the expectation of herself as a source of entertainment to others. trans girls often exist in media to be ogled at and othered. she doesn't see reflections of herself in the world. she sees caricatures. so of course she'd assume tht this is what rui wants of her. of course that isn't the case, but trust is so difficult. commodification of transfemininity and transfemininity as performance being widely seen as a source of entertainment and comedy are things that are very normalized in pop culture and media… even when trans girls aren't treated as jokes, they merely exist to reinforce the femininity of cis girls as innately more authentic. this is something mizuki absolutely knows considering her genre awareness and how much she loves to engage with fiction, but i think it's also interesting that in the context of her relationship with the other girls in niigo there's this conflict taking place in terms of being the manic pixie dream girl who purposefully elevates the cis girls by setting the stage for them and helping them address their problems (she does this in carnation recollection, mirage of light, our escape for survival and many other instances) versus using them to affirm her own femininity … we see this the most with ena, but i think this is present with mafuyu too especially in the way she represents mizuki's hope.

mizuki's introduction to the other girls in person also establishes that she's very openly genre savvy and goes out of her way to point out narrative conventions of 'isekai stories' and other media tropes relating to her social situations in a way that feels very deliberate as a parallel to being cognizant of societal prejudices and gender constructs and the way they're sustained through pop culture so she has to co-opt them for her own benefit bc so much of mizu1 is about mizuki using fiction and horror stories as a medium through which she can engage with herself and the other girl but i think this is meaningful insofar as it tells us that mizuki always understood how abuse and misogyny work bc it's been her experience for her entire life… it's interesting that she's one of the few characters in the cast that's an active Anime Fan (ie, going out to try and get merch, tickets, the soundtracks, etc), but the expression around it is /very much/ like trans culture, like how a girl is engaged with things. it isn't about figures or being the ultimate oshi, she enjoys the characters, she enjoys what goes into the creation, she's engaged with how she relates to characters over them being "attractive." there's so much… about her and her genre awareness and also her social awareness… it feels very special bc very few stories go out of their way to acknowledge the fact that trans girls are usually the demographic with so much perspective on women's issues, both bc of their own lived experience and bc they feel like they /have/ to be knowledgeable to prove their own abuse and make up for the taking up so much space in women's spaces? it's motivated by internalized guilt but it's also out of a genuine desire to connect with women and womanhood … so many anime fandoms are often sustained by trans girls and that's something i always notice whenever i'm on twitter or tumblr? magical girl and idol series fan spaces are always occupied by trans girls and the same can be said for things like gundam? mizuki is the type of trans girl who's more into the former than latter but it's still important to note, and it makes me wonder how much of an overlap there is between how that works in english speaking fandoms and japanese ones? i imagine there's a big overlap, but it's still something i'm interested in seeing something more concrete about.

but yeah, the way mizuki is so invested in the process of creation and connecting with the characters very much parallels how she's the MV animator/editor for niigo and how her entire work process is predicated around having an intimate connection with ena's art, kanade's music and mafuyu's lyrics to display them in the best way possible? we know that she was creating edits for her favorite magical girls anime before she joined niigo (and she probably still does in her own time). trans girls often connecting and finding worth in things that cgirls have cast off as childish as well - "i don't need this" versus "this makes me feel like i can have the girlhood i was denied." the lesbian contingent in these spaces is also very strong. i feel that a lot of cgirls get disillusioned and have to come back and address the internalized misogyny around it. magical girls being co-opted by misogynistic otaku also makes it difficult, but it feels broadly meaningful to actually engage with magical girls and how they are genuinely made for young women and even more than that. also the editing … the AMVs and stuff and how it's about fixating on a piece and going through all the clips, closely editing … she's probably rewatched her favorite shows and episodes so often that it's easy for her to think about what she wants to go where. i imagine she would feel self conscious actually sharing her thoughts but also … we know how mizuki is so active in the nightcord chat and how much she fills the space with ena so i wouldn't be surprised. there's a side story where mizuki invites the others out to see a movie bc she doesn't want to watch it alone, she wants someone to exchange thoughts with … it feels so personally driven, this rare chance of hers to … try to show herself to others? she never wants to tell others directly, but through fiction and other things…

mizuki is also a fan of minori but not once does she identify as Anything More than that and of course idols are relevant to mizuki, bc her being Genre Aware extends to anime/manga (specifically magical girls and idols) and films (mainly horror). in the broad context of 'oshi' as a term this is important bc mizuki likes her and thinks she's cool and admires her, but she sees idols as ppl ... she sees girls as ppl.

i also think about mizuki and "loneliness" here in the context of transmisogyny as a system to isolate transfems, to deny them safety and community and solidarity in order to enable everyone else treating them like disposable sex dolls. many ppl will pretend that the idea of transfems being uniquely threatening or predatory is something that came from genuine concerns about sexual safety (especially terfs with their "concerns" about "males in women's spaces") when the truth is that it's a deliberate campaign to convince ppl that transfems don't deserve to be treated as human beings, never mind women, they're degendered objects (aka second class women). ppl aren't /born/ believing that transfems are more dangerous than cis men; nobody independently arrives at this train of thought as much as they're conditioned into it by the patriarchy in order to do their part in maintaining the exploitation of transfems as scapegoats for the sins of cis men even if they're not conscious of it. this just makes them gullible agents of the system.

a huge difference between how 'average' misogyny & transmisogyny operate is isolation. if you're a cis woman who's the subject of constant misogyny, it's still possible to find community within cis women. transmisogynistic oppression goes unnamed, isn't shared by any peers bc transfems rarely know other transfems growing up, and is never called out by anyone even adults. it's true that all systemic violence masquarades as personal violence, but i think this goes doubly so for transmisogyny especially bc the 'mainstream' understanding of transmisogyny even in queer spaces is that it doesn't exist as long as you use a trans woman's correct pronouns or recognize them as women (and even then ppl will always make excuses when they're called out for using they/them and it's not even called transmisogyny; it's just transphobia).

when trans women exist around others they're either reduced to sex objects/freaks or mothers/manic pixie dream girls who take on the brunt of emotional labor in social dynamics, and i think all of this informs mizuki's idea of loneliness here? rui may be well intentioned, but there's an inherent power imbalance between them as a cis guy and a trans girl (even though she's pretransition, it doesn't change this) that contextualizes their isolation and this is something mizuki is obviously bitter about… it's true that her family is supportive and gives her refuge in the form of her own room to retreat back to when the world is too cruel to her, but this is simply not enough when the goal of transmisogyny as an oppressive systemic force is to erase transfems like her from public spaces, which in some part also explains why mizuki feels so insecure about her coping mechanism being avoidance and running away bc it probably feels like she's letting transmisogyny 'win', so to speak? despite how much we see her being treated like an object and an exhibit in incredibly dehumanizing ways as well as all the microaggressions from so many ppl (even the ones who care about her like an and rui) we never see any teachers standing up for her? all they care about is getting her to attend enough so she doesn't have to repeat a year and such, which reads more like they're doing bc it's inconvenient for /themselves/ otherwise to have to deal with her more if she's held back a year. the fact that she tells rui that she hopes he can find friends that he has more in common with than just solitude in response to him trying to tell her that being lonely isn't all that bad is so loaded bc rui is a cis boy, so there's no way he understands the kind of isolation she's had to endure and the fact that he's able to speak positively about isolation understandably makes her bitter for these reasons.

mizuki joking about 'losing' to rui at making friends even though she has "better communication skills" when by that she means that due to her lived experience as a transfem she's had to become very hypercognizant of social norms and conventions in order to mold herself into a very palatable expression of femininity to be accepted by others but her hypersensitivity towards these things still isn't enough and rui can surpass her simply due to the fact that he's a cis guy...

[artisticxlly]

Some (actually a lot) of my thoughts on Kagehina; the theme of soulmates

Disclaimer: I am still somewhat new to posting in this fandom. Someone might've posted these same exact takes already (I'm not well-versed in Kagehina analyses). This is just my pure brainrot (also unfiltered, so this doesn't have a ton of structure, just a collection of thoughts)!

As I'm getting more into this ship, there are a lot of things that make me emotional about them.

A thing some people point out when it comes to these two is that Kageyama's backstory is shown extremely late in the manga as a 'protagonist' (or at the least a very essential character). You can argue whether or not it's done well, but for me this is perfect to demonstrate a full-circle moment, as not only did Kageyama find this person that Kazuyo promised would find him, you as the reader only get to realise that now as well.

And adding onto that, in my opinion it also contrasts nicely with Hinata, as his backstory is shown from day one, it is one of the first things explored in the manga. It starts and ends with them, so to say.

About their backstories: As someone who is very much invested in Kageyama's whole arc of 'king of the court', here is a speculation of how he actually got to that point.

Maybe this is a bit obvious, but losing someone like Kazuyo is devastating. And at the time, Kageyama would struggle with making new friends. He always stands out in those flashback panels as someone who carries a passion for volleyball like no one else (at least for his childhood) e.g., he gets made fun of for not owning any video games.

At its core, that intense interest in volleyball is what connected him and his grandfather so deeply.

It makes sense for Kageyama to desperately dig his nails into that remainder of Kazuyo, to train more and more, chasing that feeling of connection to someone he was actively grieving.

And another point would be this famous panel:

"If you get really good". And Kageyama takes his word for it, because really, his grandfather would be one of the people he trusts more than anything. And he practices until exhaustion, until he can't, because he wants to have a relationship (no matter the nature) like that again, wants a deep connection that he gains through his passion for the sport. He wants someome to find him.

I think Kageyama would reach a point where the amount of time he invests into training would be both physically and mentally unhealthy.

And perhaps, that's what also leads to him having no compassion for the people who don't share the same fire as him on the court (which is honestly a bit of a common theme for Haikyuu and its characters). He'd probably doubt a person who is like what Kazuyo described exists.

And then Kageyama and Hinata meet for the first time one the court.

The first time you read the chapter, without knowing Kageyama's backstory, it's moreso framed that he is insensitive, a bit of a jerk too. You could even go as far as to interpret the line as "what have you been doing until now?!" as Kageyama thinking that Hinata should've just practised harder, especially when he later goes on to say that Hinata should get "better" if he truly wants to stay on the court for as long as possible.

When you reread the chapter after going through the whole manga though, these lines make a lot more sense, and - depending on your perspective - are a peek into just how taken Kageyama is when faced with someone who has an equal drive as him on the court.

"what have you been doing until now?!" turns into "why havent I met you sooner?" and "get better" turns into "get better (than me), so we can find each other again" (As Kazuyo promised Kageyama).

And actually, Kazuyo's promise doesn't become fully realised until they're both on the court again, now in different teams.

That's why the flashback to that line is used then, not when Hinata and Kageyama first bond together in Karasuno. Not when they make it to nationals. No, when they're in different teams, after you see Hinata go through a whole lot of development away from Kageyama, then the promise is finally fullfilled. You could argue back and forth which one of them ended up being "someone better" but the point is that they found each other again because of it. Doesn't even really matter that they're on different sides of the court.

That's their arc, at least if you focus on Kageyama's backstory.

In general though, they are characters that continue to parallel each other, over and over. The amount of which is honestly almost absurd.

One of the biggest ones is just how much time they invest into practicing. The manga makes it a point with both of them that the people around them don't have the same energy as them and get tired out while those two continue (like maniacs /hj).

I mean, they even like the gym for the same reason, they're fond of the smell (which makes me mushy I won't lie, these goddamn weirdos /aff).

Another one is that they both want to play as long as possible. During the first chapter of the manga, this whole theme drags through the whole chapter, as they both talk about competing to get to stay on the court longer than anyone else.

A last one, that I just find funny, is that their numbers are ALWAYS one apart and sometimes even the same as in previous teams, EXCEPT for their third year in high school.

Junior high 3rd year: 2 and 1

High school 1st year: 9 and 10

High school 3rd year: 2 and 5

Adlers/Msby: 20 and 21

National team (2021): 9 and 10

Ali Roma/Asas São Paulo: 20 and 21

Like it's not funny, how much these two share even before knowing each other. And yet, despite all the similarities, they don't immediately get along in the way you'd think. There is this weird tension where they meet, they immediately get into an argument, too. But there is nuance to it. Izumi points it out actually, that Kageyama took Hinata seriously. The rest of the people there didn't think much of Hinata and his team, and yet Kageyama seemed to have this 'innate' sense that Hinata wasn't someone you should underestimate.

And they fight again, when trying to get into Karasuno, when they're in Karasuno, etc. etc. But it's never them genuinely disliking each other, it's just bickering at most. And as you read along you grow very fond of that aspect of them.

Maybe it is an overused word, but I don't think you could make it any clearer that those two are written to be soulmates.

Anyways, those are my thoughts! I'm obviously not normal about them, but I hope someone else can agree with these takes ^^

[fangirlynjunk]

Adding more to my thought process about Jerry, Jeri, and Max because I know some people might be squinting about ages, and the way I understand it the best personally.

I am using the starkid wiki to get these ages so I’m trusting the fandom

Ok, from my understanding we KNOW Ted is 35 in Time Bastard.

18 years ago he’d have been 17, which is presumably the right age to be going to camp idontwannabang.

We don’t seem to have any clear idea how old Jerry and Jeri are, but Jerry mentions Ted in such a way that implies to me he has personal beef with Ted.

If I had to guess knowing Jerry, he invented a scenario in his own head about Ted flirting with Jeri much like how he is currently projecting onto Pete. Because I can’t see a time where Jeri and Ted would have interacted outside of school.

Meaning, I believe Jeri and Jerry were 15-17 during the conception of Max/Lumberaxe

Young, yes, but this is Hatchetfield.

It could also be that Ted has hit on Jeri sometime after he adopted his sleazeball personality, so it’s not concrete evidence

But Ted did seem to know Lumber Axe was out there, and Jeri mentions Axe was massive by the time he was 2, hence why I assume they were 15 or 16 when he was born, and therefore 17 or 18 by the time Ted was in camp.

Which also makes sense for Max

However, this is the only age we have for Ted pre time displacement , and we have two for Paul

Paul is 31 in TGWDLM and 33 in NPMD

This is because of the two year gap in the timeline.

Which means we have to make sense of it, though I would say with confidence that I doubt that Emma and Paul ( or rather Emdroid and Paul 23) would get married after only dating for a few months. I’d wager they would at least be 32.

This only changes the math to subtracting 17 from 35 which would make Ted 18, which would make more sense as he does seem to be making Pete go at the age he did.

I’m also relatively hoping that Jerry and Jeri are about Ted’s age because younger just gets perhaps too tragic because while they do seem to kind of suck , I can’t fully blame them considering their circumstances.

Now why is Max well.. Max? My guess, a birth complication causing the Jerries to go to the hospital or someone coming across them in the woods (hidge maybe?)

[crimsononiarataki]

"Just the fact that you're tryin' to help me with that is enough for me, Myyrin. Not many people would be willin' to help me due to... well what I am,"

He was glad that she wasn't afraid of him, they'd fought side by side against the group of Kairagi who had thought of her as an easy target. He'd dealt with that group a lot, sometimes just to get their aggression out, the Oni lived near where they 'haunted', but not because of that. It just happened to be where he'd found an old Oni cabin that he wanted to fix up, so he bought the land and the cabin itself to do so. The garden he had beside it was smaller than the one back at the Gang's place, but it was still very useful to him.

Her willingness to aid him with the antihistamine, and her giving her word to give him any information she found about his clan was appreciated. Especially if she came out to learn that very few humans in Inazuma wanted him to reclaim his past. They seemed content merely having him going around not knowing where he came from. There were a few descendants of the humans that his kind had lived among before dying off that were trying to see if they could find anything, too. After all, their families had lived around the Crimson Oni of the Arataki Clan.

"I can come up with a cipher that only I can decipher. Somethin' unique to myself that nobody else will be able to figure out. While whatever it written down will make sense, there'll be somethin' I do that makes it different than normal notes."

Clearly he was thinking hard about how to go about doing something that could help him, maybe using Ishine Script mixed with newer Inazuman would be the best best. Ishine itself had survived on an island that had out of whack ley lines. If it could survive such a calamity then it could survive being written in some notebooks by him. He'd likely number the lines differently too, or use symbols to represent which needed to be deciphered, and which didn't. Shinobu would be the only other one possibly able to decipher anything, especially if he came up missing at some point. She'd be able to follow the notes, and signs that he left behind to find him.

"The only other one who'll understand anythin' I may leave behind in the off chance I come up missin' at any point, would be Shinobu. I trust her with my life. She'd know that if she found a certain symbol that I was in danger, and to get the aid a friend promised me."

Of course, if he was captured while being under the watch of the Shuumatsuban, they'd go and inform Ayato, who would then contact Shinobu to get him the help he needed. She'd likely try to get Heizou, maybe even Sara to help as well, because he was an Inazuman Native, and the last of his kind. He was protected due to that status, but some of the humans wanted to hurt him, or even try to kill him. He'd never done anything to anyone that threatened him but he was very aware that not everyone would like him that much. Which was fine. Perhaps once he learned of his heritage and his past, they'd change their tune.

"I have a few people I can contact, one of 'em I don't like really involvin' in anythin' but I know she'll be willin' to help without askin' for some sort of payment."

He was speaking of the Guuji, while they were friends, he avoided being alone around her for the most part because she liked to be mean to him simply to be mean. They didn't really hang out anymore due to him being and staying busy, and her not really leaving the Shrine. She knew his parents but hadn't told him their names because she was, in her own way, trying to see if he could recall their names without her help. He knew there was something there but he wasn't sure what.

"I have various symbols I use already, Shniobu is aware of 'em, I also know Ishine Script, which is a very old variant of what's now common Inazuman. It's archaic, but I can understand each symbol."

He understood what she meant, leave a trail only he and those he trusted implicitly could follow. Something that only those closest to him could decipher should anything happen to him. He'd not let anything happen but that was beside the point, something could still happen that was outside of his control after all.

"I could teach ya Ishine Script too, that way if you're here, ya can help should somethin' happen to me."

Myyrin smirked slightly, her tone light and teasing as she leaned back. “Don’t thank me just yet, big guy. I haven’t found anything useful, and who knows if I even will. All I’ve got for now is working on that potion to help with your bean allergies. If I get that right, then you can start showering me with gratitude.” Her teasing tone was underscored with genuine affection, though, as if to remind him that his hopes weren’t entirely misplaced.

As she watched him speak about his desire to know more, she couldn’t help but admire the way he carried himself. For someone with so much lost, Itto still managed to be brimming with hope and determination. It was a contrast to her own cynical practicality.

“Writing it all down is a good idea,” she said, her voice softening a bit. “But don’t make it too obvious. Use something that only you—or someone who truly understands you—would recognize. Maybe a code, or symbols tied to you, if you can figure those out. The ley lines…” she hesitated, eyes narrowing as if contemplating the enormity of her own words. “The ley lines are powerful, but they’re also vulnerable. If someone tampers with them, memories, history, even written records tied to them can be altered. You wouldn’t want all this work erased, would you?”

She paused, crossing her arms and staring off into the distance for a moment. “Just think of it as an extra precaution. Write your story in a way that protects it—not just from others but from time itself. That way, no matter what happens, a part of you, of your clan, will survive.” Myyrin gave him a knowing look, one that was both cautious and protective. "It’s better to leave behind a trail that only you can follow, somethin’ personal. Don’t rely on anything that can be rewritten or changed by someone else, especially if you’re already uncertain of your past."

She took a slow breath and sat back, her expression softening again. "You never know who might be watchin' or who might want to tamper with what you’re trying to uncover. Best to be prepared."

[notmoreflippingelves]

[age-of-moonknight]

Werewolf by Night: Red Band (Vol. 1/2024), #2.

Writer: Jason Loo; Penciler: Sergio Dàvila; Inkers: Jay Leisten and Aure Jimenez; Colorist: Alex Sinclair; Letterer: Cory Petit

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '24 ⸺ 「 1 / 31 * RED-LETTER DATE 」

“Hey Doc? I wanna ask you something.” 

Emmett doesn’t pop his head through the doorway to acknowledge his friend, too focused on topping off one of the mugs of hot chocolate with a generous helping of marshmallows, but he does shout, “Of course, Marty,” into the air. “You know you don’t have to ask. Let me bring Verne his cup and then you’ll have my undivided attention.”

Marty makes a vague noise that many years of friendship has taught Emmett means sure thing, Doc, and it takes him barely three minutes to drop off the hot chocolate to Verne, who smiled like it was Christmas morning when he saw the mountain of marshmallows floating at the top, and join Marty in the living room, carrying the tray with their own drinks. He passes one of them off to Marty who accepts with a smile and a nod and then takes a seat opposite him, fixing him with an expectant look.

“So, what did you want to ask me?”

Marty’s eyes immediately drift to the shelf, where Emmett and Clara’s small assortment of family photos sit, arranged in elegant wooden frames. In the centre is a black and white photo that has started to yellow around the edges, looking paradoxically fragile and yet able to withstand even the most rigorous tests of time, holding onto that frozen memory for all eternity. Emmett turns his head to follow Marty’s attention, his eyes alighting on the single photo he expects will be the topic of their conversation.

Ah. Out of all of them, there is only one Marty was never able to be present for.

For once, Emmett manages to look perfectly natural in a photograph, even dressed to the nines in a sharp suit. His smile stretches from ear-to-ear, making him look at least ten years younger, and though his face is angled away from the camera, his eyes are bright and alive, brimming with love and warmth. Marty could even imagine the photographer trying to get Emmett’s attention, demanding he look at him for the photo, only for every single word to go in one ear and straight out the other when Clara was standing beside him, smiling, the picture of radiance as she regards her husband with the same fond warmth. Her wedding dress was no more intricate than any of the outfits Marty had seen her wear during his few days in the Nineteenth Century, yet it seemed to be made for her and her alone, perfectly tailored and somehow able to put even the outfits of royalty to shame.

If Clara was the sun, Emmett was the moon that revolved around her. In that single moment, forever frozen in time, they were the only two people on Earth. 

“I had been wanting to ask for a while, but–”

“No, no, of course. You didn’t get the chance to see it, and I’m sorry for that, so I’d be happy to fill you in on the details.”

Marty curls his fingers around the warm mug, shuffling somewhat in his seat, and Emmett waits patiently, noting each one of Marty’s nervous habits as they arise. There are a hundred and one things Marty wants to say, Emmett can see them written across his body, written into every small movement, and, equal and opposite, there are a thousand things Emmett wants to say in return, things he makes an effort to hold back until Marty speaks first.

“I’m happy for you two, Doc–really, I am. Clara’s–well, Clara’s amazing. And I’ve never seen you so happy before. I was afraid that–” Marty shakes his head, his eyes focused on the photographs. “When I first saw the picture, I was…” He forces a laugh, but there’s no humour in it and Emmett would know that self-depreciatory tone anywhere. 

“It’s stupid, I know. I didn’t realise it at first, but I was jealous. Can you believe that, Doc? My best friend is happy, he’s got a family for Christ’s sake, and I was too busy at first being afraid that now you’re–you’re just gonna forget me because you’ve got Clara and the boys and the house and there wouldn’t be a place for me.”

Emmett’s eyes widen despite knowing the blow was coming and before he can open his mouth, allow the words that have been building up on his tongue to break free, Marty shakes his head and continues, reinforcing the wall and keeping the words at bay just a little longer.

“I know what you’re gonna say, Doc. I already said I know it’s stupid but I couldn’t help feeling that way. And I should have asked you about your wedding and everything a lot longer ago but I-I just couldn’t. And that’s fucking stupid, right? I want to know because I couldn’t be there for you and you’ve always been there for me.”

Marty’s words are a blade driven straight through his chest, each word twisting that razor-sharp blade a little more. He can’t help the pang of guilt he feels echoing in his ribcage, scraping against the bars of a prison he will not allow it to escape from, not now. This conversation was a long time coming–he’d almost expected it sooner rather than later, but he knew better than to push, knowing Marty would open up when he was ready–but no amount of anticipation could have prepared him for the blow that hearing it put to words would strike.

The Time Machine’s destruction had not been an accident. Everything had been carefully orchestrated to prevent any further corruption of the timestream, to spare himself the temptation–the broken heart–of trying to go back against all rational, scientific thought.

Ultimately, Marty couldn’t stay in the Nineteenth Century, not if he wanted to live a normal life, not if he wanted to be happy. And he couldn’t allow Marty to become another unsolved disappearance, leaving the McFlys to wonder and agonise over their youngest son who vanished from the face of the Earth without a trace.

Emmett may not have planned to stay, but even he couldn’t predict Clara’s intervention. 

Life had to go on, even under extreme or difficult circumstances. There was only one choice available, then.

Still, Emmett doesn’t hesitate.

“Marty, I could never forget you. Whether we’re in the same time period or separated across the timestream, you will always be my best friend. And I will never stop caring about you. I know things have been busy lately, both for you and for me, what with your college courses and the boys’ schooling and Clara’s acclimation to the Twentieth Century and making the necessary repairs on the house–” Emmett stops himself before he runs off the entire list of seemingly infinitely-growing projects on his list. 

“The point is, nothing is going to change that. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel neglected or unwanted at any point, because that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Marty nods, finally pulling his eyes away from the photo to take a good long look at his best friend. 

“I know, Doc. God, I know. You must think I’m an asshole.” 

“You’re not an asshole. Far from it.”

Marty actually smiles at that, swirling his hot chocolate carefully in the cup. “So… You’ll still tell me about your wedding day?”

“Of course I will, Marty.” Emmett pauses for a moment, a thoughtful expression working its way over his face. Then, he smiles, almost conspiratorially as he recalls something of particular note. “The minister certainly wasn’t pleased when we changed until death do us part to something a little more fitting–until the end of time—”

@bttfdoctober

[maudlxne]

❝ That's also true. Traveling because you have to or for other circumstances makes it less enjoyable. ❞

Not to mention the fact traveling wasn't always safe. Even for civilians and merchants. Between rouge attacks and supply ambushes. It's why merchants often put in applications for protection. Even then traveling could be daunting for another reason. After a certain point, even the trees begin to blur together. There had once been a mission that felt like it had been dragging on for far longer than it had due to such a sensation.

❝ Plenty are probably ready to set down roots of their own now. Maybe as we get older . . . such things like travel have less of an allure as well. ❞

It really wasn't too much of a surprise that there had been an increase in weddings and new families after the war. Many had realized how easily life could be taken away and chose to spend what precious time they had with people they loved. Even with there being peace the life of any ninja wasn't guaranteed. Most tend to live fast and die young. Some even before they had a chance to grow out of their teens . . . which was still a sickening feeling.

She took her town teacup into her hands. Raising it up to take a sip when he spoke. Once again finding herself surprised by his response. How he took into consideration her words and pointed her in a direction. She paused slightly, setting down the cup before it even reached her lips in favor of meeting his visible onyx hue.

❝ Uzushio . . . I will have to remember that. Thank you . . . Sasuke. I would like to visit at least once in my life. I - I think you're a kind person. You didn't have to give me tips on where to go. Yet I'm really happy you did . . . ❞

Perhaps it is a presumptuous thought based off of what limited contact they have had today. This was merely idle conversation and the response could have meant little to him. Yet he kept surprising her at every turn. It would be a lie to say she didn't have some assumptions about who Sasuke was as a person going into this. Yet the man before her her completely re-written most of that. Everyone makes assumptions after all. Only fools let those rule as absolute fact instead of discovering the truth for themselves.

❝ You say you hardly speak - yet I find you a wonderful conversationalist so far. Oh - w - well I guess you've mostly been listening to me prattle. ❞

It was almost strange how comfortable she was right now. Perhaps letting her guard down too early or perhaps not. She's always been a person who wore her fragile heart on her sleeve and followed it blindly.

" Most shinobi have, " he said, " I would imagine travelling for work kills the wanderlust in most. "

That and the pesky fact that once one has seen one village, they all start to look the same. Save for the design of the architecture and the smaller facets of culture. A shinobi career dulls the enjoyment of smaller, finer things; far too focused on potential squabbles and ambushes.

At some point, their drinks made it to the table and Sasuke already clasped his tea up between his fingers, sipping gingerly to it as he listened to the Hyuuga.

" Lotus flowers... " he travels back into his mind of where he might've seen some, " they are native to the Kawa no Kuni. "

Sasuke thought some more, " there's more aquatic life around near the remnants of Uzushio that curve along the peninsula up towards Kiri. " He speaks these locations to her as if she ever had a planned to go. It might be helpful, he thinks.

" If - you were serious about going," he tagged on.