#because of a conflict you weren't a part of or even aware of

[presidentofthelipglossclub]

yknow what i think heatwave should be the next prime he could do it.

i mean that whole time traveler episode w jules verne was already basically hyping him the hell up so like we know for sure he's like crazy famous and super duper important. in rba literally the first episode wedge goes like "are you kidding? he's basically a prime!" or something (i don't rly remember don't quote me). he's already op (quadruple changer anyone) so that helps. also let's be real he's optimus' favorite and objectively one of (if not the) best leaders out there so. he'd be a solid choice.

he'd do a damn good job too i mean he's already super popular in rba (knows and is friends with tons of the war bots), he's very compassionate (keeping laserbeak and willing to help potential decepticons), he already knows how to manage people/deescalate conflicts/solve problems (team leader of the craziest bitches like ever and then later school teacher to the runner ups), he can handle responsibility and unexpected circumstances on the fly (emergency responder), and like so much more. i mean in general i don't think anyone else could do it better.

plus it helps that the rescue bots are functionally neutrals. like they were sorta involved with the autobots but like barely. they never did anything with or for them, optimus (and later bumblebee) were the only ones they ever really talked to. i mean nobody even knew they still existed bc optimus wanted them to be secret! also what better way to show the war is truly over than by putting a civilian who actually specialized in leadership and nonviolent deescalation in charge? especially if they were thought to be a casualty of the war.

like if the guy in charge of the world was nonviolent, neutral, dead set on treating everyone equally and had experience in managing social and interpersonal relationships i'd feel pretty damn safe. also heatwave literally lived with a different species and forged genuine connection and he and his team are basically part of their family so he definitely will have no problem seeing issues through different perspectives (the body swap episode alone can prove that).

idk i AM biased bc i love him but he really would be a good choice and i think it would make sense continuity/in universe-wise.

[nemesyaaa]

sweet nothing || rafe x reader x sarah

summary : it's okay to want them both.

warnings : minors dni. smut. stepcest (no incest/rafe and sarah are not implied together.). oral (f&m receiving.). bisexual!reader. mean!rafe but meaner!sarah. controlling. cunt inspections. jealousy. daddy issues. manipulation. strap mentions. spit kink. i don't feel like it's a dark content but just in case. please, be aware of the warnings before reading.

author's note : /

“ Rafe is not allowed in it. ”

Sarah Cameron didn't want to share you. As the high Kook Princess that she was, she always got what she asked for. She never had to sweat or bleed to get what she wanted. So if she wanted you to be hers, you were hers.

But that meant there could only be her in your life because there was no way she was sharing her girlfriends with Rafe. She had always been the crueler of the two. It wasn't surprising since Ward had always favored her. If she acted like this, it was because she had always been allowed to. It was too hard for Ward to deny her anything. And if he couldn't be tough and firm with her, he needed to be with someone else.

And Rafe was so easily the perfect prey.

Just like you were Rafe's perfect victim when Ward was evil to him.

You were only there because his father married your mother. You were just an outsider to this degenerate family and yet you were now part of a conflict of interest between the two siblings.

in fact, it has been terribly easy for Rafe to have power over you and to abuse it. Since you suffered from a father who had never been there for you, and you refused Ward to be that father figure for you, he simply had to use your daddy issues to his advantage.

so he had always looked for the slightest fault or failure in you. he was going to find any excuses for you to cry in his arms. also, he was very controlling. you weren't sure of the outfit you wanted to wear? he knew how to compliment you. Did he hate your outfit? he also knew how to make you insecure about it. he was an expert in manipulation since he was a compulsive liar.

you weren't just his stepsister, you were his fucking forbidden fruit.

you were too perfect, too good, too clean. but he wasn't like sarah. if he wanted you, he was going to damage you and destroy you. Rafe wasn't good at taking care of people. He had a terrible view of affection. He wasn't even sure what it was.

You were so adorable that it hurt, that he wanted to make you suffer.

He knew he could never make Sarah suffer, and that he was secretly the only one suffering from this distance between the two of them. Because Sarah was meaner. People always stayed with her despite the suffering she inflicted on them. Because she was so much better than him in terms of playing the victim.

he also hated the fact that you preferred sarah more than him. why did he always have to be the one who sweats and bleeds to be appreciated while sarah just had to bat her eyelashes to get everyone under her spell ? it was unfair.

and without meaning to, he had started to categorize you like her, a simple bitch among the others. except he needed you to know it, he needed you to be treated like one to be happier. and damn, he deserved this happiness. more than you, more than sarah. more than anyone in this house.

he hated the way you stayed together like sweethearts, even though you were far from being angels.

" think sarah would appreciate seeing you like that ? being such a whore for me, think she would pay you the same respect after seeing you drooling for my dick ?"

his voice was so sharp that you gulped hard under his words.

you were on your knees, mouth stuffed deep by his cock. your corners were dripping as you gave him a sloppy head for a few minutes raw. he held your head by the hair while you gagged on him which served as an excuse for him to degrade you even more. you were so pathetic, willing to do anything to satisfy him. your mouth was working so hard that it felt like it was always meant for this, to be used and treated so dirty.

he was so hard that you could feel every inch of his dick inside your mouth. every noise you made was sucked away by the wet sound of your lips around his cock.

“you can cry all you want, maybe those tears will help you get my dick wet and nice. if you don't like me being mean to you, you should learn it before choosing this bitch over me. ”

you continued to pump him, while he forced your throat with his thrusts, his heavy hips slamming down your cheeks.

“ tongue out...such a pretty girl...” he mocked you, tear-jerking more cries from you. “better swallow what I give you. don't disappoint me twice, i can't fail you. ”

he lost his patience with you so he didn't care that he was cold, and that you took it so badly. that was all you deserved.

he had spat on your tongue, once, twice, until he saw his spit sliding down your throat, until he saw the large glob foaming around his cock, creating a web around his glistening red tip. you were so messy and dirty like a dog after a walk.

and you made him even harder when you took him this far in your mouth. he could feel you struggling and gasping for air. you were so miserable that it made him feel better to see someone even more pathetic than him for once.

“ what's up, pretty ? thought you were an angel but you're such an evil thing. ”

you tried so hard to speak back but his dick was hanging out your jaw to the point all your drool was dripping from your chin. you were such a mess, unable to talk, unable to think. he was fucking your face, tearing your lips apart with the length of his cock. he was driving his shaft so fast in your mouth that you were just good at choking on it. he wrapped a hand around your neck and smirked when he could feel your throat bulging around his dick. your tears were hot, and your cheeks soaked with spit and cries.

he spat on your face, watching his spittle drip down your cheekbones like tears before smearing it on your cheeks.

“ repeat after me. say i'm good to you. now, say it. "

oh yes, he needed to hear it. he needed to hear from you that he was good for you. he needed to hear you say that you didn’t need anyone but him. he needed to feel important to someone.

“ y-y-our good to...me...hmpf...”

your muffled words were enough to make him cum.

he had released everything in your mouth, splashing it deep down your stomach.

but it wasn't just rafe.

sarah also had this need for control over you. she started to establish her territory on you.

her brother didn't deserve to have someone like you. pretty and angelic girls were only reserved for girls.

“rafe isn’t allowed in it.”

you thought it would end there but she had opened your thighs to slip her fingers inside your folds. you were already terribly wet as if you had been hearing about her touch all evening.

but she didn't want to make you cum. no sarah cameron wanted to make sure no one made you cum before. she inspected every corner of your pussy with her fingers.

at first, she just checked the inside, before starting to pump it in and out, watching you getting wetter with her fingers working in your insides. her thrusts were fast and deep but also insanely forceful, leading you to take the heavy pace she was driving onto you. you were panting and crying like a crybaby, as you could feel every of her digits bruising your walls.

you thought Rafe was mean but Sarah was meaner.

her fingers were tearing apart your canal, literally opening you too deep and you were supposed to be quiet because all your family was sleeping. and you didn't want to be caught in that position, especially when the situation was already so shameful. you didn't want anyone to know about your secrets.

“ say it. say that you prefer me over him. ” she urged you as she was scissoring you quicker, making you squirm over her fingers.

she was supposed to be your gentle princess, the delicate sweetheart that took you on amazing day to make girlies activities, but also the kook queen that spoiled you everytime you wanted something, but also the good sister that help you dress and listen to your matters but now you were just her pathetic whimpering dirty slut.

you were the toy that she's gonna use until she was satisfied and tired of it.

“ and you better say it like you mean it. because i can be pretty good, but also, really bad. and you don't want your step sister to be mean to you ? you don't want her to be your worst nightmare ? ”

she was scaring you at this point, but he really worked. you felt a lot of things inside your body, and your mind was so fucked up. her smile was so wicked, but less than the fingers curled inside your weeping core. the way she was so cruel, calling your brain a real pussy for being so useless and making you so wet by the way she was degrading you.

“ you…you're far better, sarah. ” you moaned, but she muffled your noises with her hand by putting her fingers inside your mouth.

“ i don't want to see you with that loser anymore. let him cry, it's the only thing he's good at it. ” she paused before continuing. “ I thought you were like me…but you're just like him. i really need to change that. ”

she knelt in front of you before spitting on your pussy. she waited for the spit to make its way down to your soaked slick to slide her tongue inside your parts. you forced yourself not to scream but you felt awful.

she was just too good.

you promised rafe not to hang out with sarah anymore, but you also promised sarah the same thing. as they both played with you, you allowed yourself to betray each of them. it was their fault. they had both taught you to be selfish.

her tongue was so warm. she had barely slipped it between your folds when you were already getting wet on her mouth. as she licked you, causing the inside of you to spasm, her chin was stuck to your weeping slit.

her tongue was toying with your cunt. you were so good, a fucking heaven. she mixed her spit with the foaming wetness at your entrance. she forced you to stay still, threatening you with her eyes and controlling your body with a hand on your tummy.

she didn't forget your clit and she also played with your arched bud to the point of making it bruise. her mouth was wrapped to your pussy, latched on and licking it, collecting every stream of your pussy.

she has so much power over you.

all her thrusts were so perfect. she absolutely wanted that if someone touched you here, you would remember that it belonged to her.

she wanted you to think of her every time someone touched you, just like Rafe wanted you to only think of him if someone entered you.

except you were free. with sarah, you only thought of her. with rafe, you only thought of him. you were not a toy. you had feelings. and you weren't going to get into their stupid, competitive games.

when sarah took a strap out of her drawer, you looked at her with wide eyes. you have never gone this far before. she reassured you while you watched her put it around her waist.

“what do you want..."

she laughed in a sharp mocked tone. oh where you sweet girl at? “I don't want anything. it's just what you need. because you like to think about dick, i'm gonna show what's a real cock is. now, enough. turn around. i don't want to see your face anymore. ”

“you're just so mean sometimes. ” you cried softly, before you obeyed her like the good girl you were .

“oh that why your tears for? should them be for letting a pathetic man fucking you behind my back. now you want to cry this much? Fine, it's all I want to hear from you. ”

That was how you ended up between the two Cameron but you were unable to make a choice. why were you forced to?

“sarah said i look pretty in that dress.” you started.

“let me choose something better for you then. don't you want to be beautiful ? "

“I thought I was always beautiful to you.”

“you are but only so when you wear what I tell you to wear.”

you hated it when he was controlling like that but it was impossible for you to resist him which you hated even more. you wanted to please him.

“burn that shit.” he commanded you.

“you’re joking, right?”

rafe remained silent to let you know that he was serious.

one other day, he gave you a necklace with his initial, and you blinked a lot of times. “I’m not going to wear that.”

"yea, you're gonna wear that. i want people to know what's mine."

"They're going to talk, you know..."

" why? because you're my sister. we're not related. from what i've know, you've only got my cum inside you. not my blood. "

"it's not because everyone knows on the island that you're fucked up that i'm…”

now he was pissed. you had abused his patience. and what you had just said to him had just stung him and hell, he hated that feeling because he wasn't supposed to feel anything for you. you weren’t good enough to him to have the upper hand over his emotions.

he walked towards you, and you backed away, slightly frightened. you knew he was in trouble so you were afraid of what he could do to you.

“come here, sweetheart. I’m not mad.”

he lied. and you knew it, tears had started to fall down your face.

Usually, Sarah was there when Rafe wanted to go after you but this time she wasn't. you were stuck with him so he had the advantage.

"you know I wouldn't hurt you. I'm incapable of hurting you."

he lied again.

it was all lies. with him.

"liar! you lied! you hurt me everytime."

“you are the only one who lies. "

oh evil.

"i always took care of you. and you better not forget how kind and patient I've been with you because I'm tired of being the one who has to take everything in this house. sarah, my father and now you? no, it's not going to happen. "

“what?”

"last chance, sweetheart. come here.”

you rolled your eyes.

“ do that shit one more time and i'm gonna make them roll in a way you're not gonna find it funny. ”

“ you're not my father, why should i listen to you ? ”

you lift your gaze to see a smirk on his face, before he pinned you down the door and lock it behind your back, his weight was heavily pressed on your body. “ don't act like you're listening to your daddy, you're far from a good girl. ”

“ that's not what you said to me earlier in the morning…”

another day it was sarah. you were coming back from a family day where everyone was there except Rafe. you didn’t know if he hadn’t been invited or if he hadn’t wanted to come. but in any case, everyone had been there.

when you got home, you followed sarah to her room. you loved spending time with her so much. Today, you learned to surf, ate ice cream with wheezie, built sandcastles, and met her pogues crew.

you left out the detail where you saw her kiss a certain john b because it made your heart hurt.

you didn't know what sarah found in men. topper and now this john b. but could you blame her when you were doing worse behind her back?

when sarah closed the door, you blocked her against it to kiss her. you forced her mouth to open in frustration, and she kissed you too, possessively. it was like your feelings were speaking through your lips. your tongue was furiously curled against hers, and your mouth violently smacked on her.

“ i don't like to see you with him. ”

“ do i owe you something ? ” she simply replied, arms crossed over her chest. “ i ask you a question. ”

“ oh come on, you don't need to be a bitch with me. ”

“ why ? i feel like it's the only way to interact with you. ”

“ are you mad at me ? ”

“ because you're still fucking with my brother ? if you can play, i will play too. ”

“ fine, i don't care. kiss all the boys you want. but don't forget that the taste you're seeking for is somewhere else. ”

“ now, you're against me ? rafe really fucked you’. fine too, stay with that jerk but don't forget who's dick between his and mine making you cum three time raw. ”

“ god, you're so annoying. ” you exploded. “ why can't things be simple ? “

“ because we want you both and you want us both. ”

[animeomegas]

Omega!Neji x Alpha!Reader - Altered Mission

Warnings: non-consensual drugging (but the person being drugged is aware), reference to human trafficking.

Okay, okay, so imagine going on a joint mission with Neji. A couple of nearby towns have been getting terrorised by an unknown serial criminal who has been drugging and abducting innocent people, so they've all pooled together for a couple of powerful ninja to find and dispose of the culprit.

You and Neji get chosen for the mission. You're pretending to be newly weds on their honeymoon, hence why a real couple was picked for the realism factor, and you're going to be trying to bait this criminal into showing themself, ideally by getting them to target one of you.

So you play it up. And honestly, it's kind of fun. You and Neji get to stay in a fancy hotel, go out to restaurants and bars, flirt and cuddle in public, all while being paid!

...

"Are you enjoying the market, darling?" you asked, keeping your arm snuggling around Neji's waist to both play up the silly, naïve newly weds, and to keep you both from getting separated in the crowd.

"It's lovely," Neji responded, shooting you a warm smile. For all the performance, you can tell that he's genuinely having a good time. "And it's even lovelier because you are here with me."

You pecked him on the head, "I will follow you everywhere if that brings you joy, my love. Do you see anything that you like? I want to spoil you." Especially because you weren't actually paying for anything; you'd been given an allowance to enjoy yourselves and you'd sooner die than return to Konoha with a single ryo left unspent on cherishing your mate.

Neji hummed, eyes flitting over all the booths. You watched the moment that they landed on a booth full of shiny jewellery. He pulled you with him as he approached it, and you watched as he gently touched a thin silver bracelet with a single lilac coloured precious stone.

"Do you like that one?" you said quietly. Neij looked up at you and you could see the conflict in his eyes for a moment. You had mostly worked through Neji's issue with accepting gifts and pampering, but especially expensive things still gave him pause. Then the moment passed and Neji gently nodded.

The seller was clearly watching you both like a hawk, and quickly jumped to telling you the price and taking your money. You didn't bother with any packaging, and just gently clasped it on Neji's wrist immediately. Neji held it up and it glinted in the sun.

"It's beautiful," Neji said, leaning into your side as you started away to another booth. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, my love. It suits you. And you know the best part?"

"Hmm?"

You leaned in a whispered, "Technically... Naruto paid for it."

Neji snorted and then quickly covered his mouth with his hand.

...

But then on the third night, you notice this guy flitting around you and Neji. You share a significant glance with Neji, but you don't do anything but continue to flirt and talk about meaningless nonsense.

When you're sure that something is up with this guy, Neji excuses himself to 'use the toilet' and you go to 'get another drink', leaving Neji's still half-full drink on your table.

You watch from the corner of your eye as this guy pours some white powder into Neji's drink.

Gotcha.

You go back to the table with your new drink as Neji returns, slipping into the booth beside you. You pull him close.

...

"Make sure to giggle after I've finished talking, but the guy in the blue jacket has drugged your drink." You keep a smile on your face, flirtatiously fiddling with a strand of Neji's hair.

Neji giggled just as you'd suggested, before turning his head into your neck. "He's watching to see me drink it," Neji whispered. "I don't know how to trick him into thinking I've done it without doing it."

"Just... pour it onto your lap or pretend to sip at it."

"Don't you see how intently he's watching? If he notices, he could realise that we're baiting. It will be much harder to find him if he's been spooked. Our mission specifically states that we must be discreet to avoid causing a panic."

You tightened your grip on him, not liking this turn of events. "Just... only have a sip or two then. Please be careful, don't drink too much."

Neji nodded, and taking a deep breath, he picked up his glass and took a sip. "Look after me alpha. Please."

"No one will touch you, I promise. In a few minutes act intoxicated. I'll take you back to the hotel and pretend to leave you alone to get some painkillers and bottled water. When he enters the hotel room, I'll neutralise him without drawing any attention from civilians or hotel staff. I'll keep you safe."

Neji nodded, taking another sip. "I trust you, alpha."

...

Fifteen minutes later and Neji is acting differently. He's clingier, less co-ordinated, slurring his words. But the scary part is that you're not sure if it's really an act, because his skin is very flushed and as far as you can tell with his white eyes, his pupils are dilated.

You make a big show of deciding to take him back to the hotel because he's 'had a bit too much to drink'. Part of the way back you're forced to pick Neji up as he can no longer walk. His head lolls on your shoulder, little whimpers escaping whenever you jostle him too much.

Worry begins to could your mind because how strong were those drugs?? But you try to focus back on the man who is definitely tailing you. Once he's dead, you can focus on Neji.

You get into the hotel and make sure to drop your room number into the conversation before telling Neji that you'll tuck him into bed before going down the road for some supplies for his inevitable hangover tomorrow.

...

You gently removed Neji's shoes and jacket before tucking him bed. He relaxed once he was amongst the soft sheets, but as you pulled away, he made a noise of discontent.

"These drugs... are s-strong," he slurred, hazy eyes staring up at you. "I can't... keep m' thoughtss... strai't. I can't... can't defend m'self, a'pha."

"I know, I know baby," you soothed, running your thumb under his eye. "I'm going to go round the front and up the building to our balcony, okay? You'll only be alone for a few moments, and nothing will happen to you. Just try to rest."

It was only the years of mission conditioning that was allowing you to keep your head. Anxiety clawed at every part of you, but you ignored it. You had to kill the target, then you could look after Neji.

And with that anxiety screaming at you, you walked back out of the hotel room, pretending not to notice the man lurking in a shadowing corner.

...

As soon as this guy is out of sight, you sprint your way out of the hotel and up the side of the building until you get to the balcony for your room, which you unlocked earlier.

You can hear him picking the lock from the other side. You wait with baited breath.

He gets in and quietly shuts the door behind him. You wait for a few moments, to make sure he can't run, and just as he approaches Neji, you spring from the balcony.

You are so angry, furious even, that you shove your kunai through his neck with admittedly more force than necessary. He dies quickly, blood staining the carpet.

...

"A'pha?" Neji called weakly from the bed.

"I'm here, baby, you're safe, I just need to take care of the body, okay?"

"Do't leave 'gain," Neji whined, barely conscious. When you didn't immediately reply, he continued, voice desperate, "A'pha, please, 'm scared."

And fuck, that hurt your heart so much to hear. Because of course he was scared. He was powerless right now, and you knew Neji hated that. You were the only one he allowed to see him like this.

"Okay, okay," your mind raced for a solution. "Okay, let me just put it in the bathroom, I'll be right there, Neji."

As fast as you could, you dragged the body into the bathroom, quickly but thoroughly washed your hands, shut and locked the balcony door and then returned to your omega's side. You didn't even bother to shed any clothes but your shoes and bloodstained jumper.

Neji relaxed as you enshrined him in your arms, protecting him from the outside world.

"I've got you, Neji, I've got you."

"Don't- don' leave."

"I won't, I promise. I won't leave your side for even a moment."

"'kay," he muttered. "I trus' you."

[mysumeow]

. . . ꒰ FOUND WOUNDED

Warnings: afab genitalia, gender neutral pronouns. PIV unprotected sex, Lilia takes a dominant role throughout the smut, hair pulling (reader giving), overstimulation (reader receiving), cunnilingus. not proofread it is what it is.

Summary: Out of the kindness of your heart —and naivety mixed in— you nurse back to health the injured fae you came across with in the forest.

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: if you find a mistake just ➖➖ close your eyes like that and pretend you dont see it. my contribution for general lilia lovers (myself included💗)

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . KOFI | NEXT

At first, General Lilia was like a feral cat when you tried to get close to him.

Injured and almost unconscious; that was how you had found him. A gaping wound on his abdomen. Regardless of his blurry vision, he could still make out the smell of a human.

Thus, through deep breaths and pained winces, he demanded that you not come closer. Those demands were accompanied by curses and hisses, of course.

Perhaps you were naive or had no sense of self-preservation, or both, because despite his refusal to receive aid, you carried him on your back.

Had the fae been in better condition, you wouldn't have made one step forward without some inconvenience happening.

Lilia's first instinct, when he awoke the next day, was to attempt to flee before you realized he was up. Granted, the pain from recent battle wounds sliced through his being, rendering him to fall back on the bed.

His heartbeat picked up once he saw you walking into the room, kicking the door shut, and carrying breakfast in your hands.

The fae's words were nothing short of disdainful, accompanied by threats.

You were aware of the complex human-fae relationships and weren't surprised by his outburst. Instead, you ignored his empty words, left the breakfast on the little nightstand next to the bed, and left.

Although the general wasn't pleased at the fact you dismissed his words as if he were blabbering, he himself knew he wouldn't hurt a defenseless human like yourself. He's willing to turn a blind eye to those that aren't part of the Silver Owl's; after all, you weren't an immediate threat to him.

He sighed, turning to look at the source of the appealing aroma on the nightstand.

He wasn't that hungry, right? He could just wait a while longer, just to establish a sense of power over you—he didn't need you as much as you thought he did.

The grumbling from his stomach made his thoughts pause.

By lunch time, you decided it was a reasonable idea to check back on the fae you rescued yesterday.

The plate was clean, as you expected.

Without sharing another word, you gathered the plate and the utensils to head back to the kitchen, until the fae’s low voice and dry manner of speaking interrupted you.

“You know our kind have had conflicts of interest, right?” You couldn’t identify any sort of hostility or ill-intent from him when he spoke his mind.

“I...” You stopped to wonder if you actually considered that detail when you decided to bring this stranger into the safety of your home. “I wouldn’t be able to turn my back on someone who’s about to die,”

Lilia stared at you; you couldn’t discern how he took the comment.

“Hmph,” he said, crossing his arms. “You humans underestimate faes. I’ve survived worse wounds. This is nothing in comparison.”

“Yeah, yeah. You're, oh, so dangerous, and I'm, oh, so fragile. Please don’t kill me, Mr. Fae,” you feigned a squeakier voice. You reveled in amusement at his displeased expression. Suddenly, you realized you didn’t even know his name. “By the way, I don’t know what to call you.”

For a moment, Lilia considered not telling you. He would flee this place as soon as he could, so what was the point? He reasoned. Despite that, he figured that you would be more fearful of him if he revealed his name, as everyone knew the title that was accompanied by it.

“Or do you want me to keep calling you Mr. Fae?” You kept poking fun at him.

“I’m Lilia Vanrouge. Does the name ring any bells to you?”

You stopped for a moment to think.

“To be honest, no.”

Lilia wondered how you were still alive at this point, being so detached from the current events going on. You had just enough information to know about the war that was going on.

Unbelievable. He shook his head before looking down at the bandages wrapped around his lower abdomen.

The dull pain that comes from wounds was still present, albeit less than yesterday. He made an effort to sit up on the bed and undid the bandages, wanting to check the wound. If he applied less strength than usual, the sting was bearable.

You stitched his lesion while he was unconscious. Even though your work was decent, he couldn’t help but wish there were fairies nearby who could speed up the healing process. He couldn’t stop thinking back on his troops, the princess, his kind—they needed him right now.

Lilia’s troubled pondering stopped when you came back.

“I was just about to ask how you were feeling. The stitches haven’t opened, right?” You dabbed the rag into the water, looking to use the piece of cloth to clean up any dirt or blood that might’ve been left over from the prior day.

“Halt, human,” he tried to scurry away, flustered. “I can do it myself. I managed to eat on my own. I don’t need your help. Wait outside,”

“Okay, but you still should clean the rest of your body. I thought I could help you walk to the bathroom so you can use the shower,” you said, placing a hand on your chin. “Will you be able to reach your back? Bend enough to clean your legs?”

Lilia narrowed his eyes, partly out of suspicion. “If I were you, I’d be more cautious of a stranger,” he sighed. “I’ll allow you to help me clean my back. The rest, I can manage. Try anything funny, and I’ll make sure you’ll regret it,”

“Anything funny? You mean killing you? Do you think I would go to these lengths just to murder you?”

“My point stands.”

You guided the fae towards your bathroom; you left him alone so he could undress and wash what he could without your help. Once he was done, he called to you, where he was waiting, sitting on the wooden bathroom’s stool with a towel wrapped around his hips.

He didn’t acknowledge you entering; he just sat there in silence, waiting for you to pour water on his scarred back. Some scars were new, some were old, and others were fading.

His ears flicked when he heard you sit behind him.

The session was…awkward, to say the least. You both were quiet, and you wondered what he was thinking about during his silence. You resisted the urge to trace the scars on his back. You surmised that it must be a sensitive topic for him. You knew about the hardships of war, but having a glimpse of the surface of them awakened a sense of pity for him.

You slid the rag along his back. Albeit having a thin frame, there was some tonification...

He shivered, interrupting both your train of thoughts and your languid movements.

“You done?” he asked, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Yes,” you answered curtly, ashamed of yourself for allowing your mind to wander that much.

From then on, having the general living under the same roof was...an experience. To you, he seemed to have some sort of internal conflict when speaking to you; sometimes, he would speak in a kinder way, and at other times, he would go back to his withdrawn and indifferent attitude.

Like he was afraid of getting too attached soon.

You would tease him, proclaiming that he had developed a soft spot for you. He would either roll his eyes, huff, or deny, until he stopped paying attention to your “pointless ramblings” (as he called them). You couldn’t help but find amusement at the idea of this fae getting tired of your teasing and preferring to ignore them.

Of course, the general would rather die than admit his days in relative leisure with you were quite endearing—he wouldn’t admit his true feelings to himself either—as having someone looking out for you was a change of pace for his days of solitude. Solitude comes in the form of having no one else but himself to rely on.

For a human such as yourself to be selfless enough to nurse him back to health, even if not necessary until a certain point, made you stand out over the rest of the past human interactions he’d experienced.

Avarice and thoughtlessness were, after all, the reasons why the fae clashed with humanity.

Alack, he couldn’t stay here with you for the rest of his life.

Basking in the last rays of sunlight, sitting on the fresh grass as you shared a meal, you didn’t expect Lilia to have a gloomy expression.

“You’re going back to your military camp?”

“The war isn’t over yet. I’ve wasted enough time waiting for my wounds to heal,” Absentmindedly, his hands hovered over where the gaping wound once was. “You’ve been…”

“Hm?” You directed your focus to him, expecting him to finish his sentence while you munched on a slice of bread.

“I’ll give it to you. You’ve been helpful, but also annoying. I wouldn’t have imagined someone to have the ability to both heal and damage someone at the same time,” he took a sip of the tea and turned his head away in agitation.

“Would it hurt too much to just say ‘thank you’?” You rolled your eyes.

“Thank you,” he agreed, so you would drop the topic.

The sun had long since set, the single light source coming from your home. Lilia gave one last glance at your profile, noticing you were deep in thought.

He opened his mouth to tell you he was going inside again. Then he closed it again, thinking maybe you didn’t want to be disturbed by whatever you were reflecting on.

For the past few weeks, stress over how his troops were doing has built up. The general couldn’t wait any longer to go back to them.

He departed that same night.

Lilia took a quick look at the bedroom he has been staying in, checking if there was anything he should take with him before departing.

Alongside his mask, he wielded his magical lithic with practiced ease. 

He placed a hand on the window and pulled the lower panel up to open it. With a foot already on the windowsill, he hesitated.

I haven’t said goodbye to...

Almost as if driven by instinct, he went back to the living room, where he last saw you a couple of hours before.

At first, he didn’t see you. He rationalized that you were in your bedroom now; however, a soft snore made him realize that wasn’t the case.

Sprawled on the couch. Blanket on the floor. Your head is almost falling off the edge of said furniture.

That’s how he found you sleeping.

He deadpanned, reaching down towards the blanket on the floor and draping it over your sleeping form.

Did Lilia feel at fault that he didn’t get to say goodbye? Yes. Nevertheless, the fae was set on answering the call of his obligations before letting himself realize it.

Being a proper general like him, he located the camp with ease. Every single one of his comrades celebrated his return.

Now, this was an environment he was used to. It felt right; this was what he was familiar with.

And despite that, he couldn’t shake you off his thoughts. Not even the next day.

His mind kept reeling back on the idea of heading towards your small cottage to apologize.

Lilia groaned in frustration, turning around on the makeshift bed inside his tent. He stared at the walls, asking himself if it made sense for him to have these feelings.

Humans are weak. I should check on that human. Yeah, that’s it. That human is clumsy.

While putting on his armor and tying the knots in their places, he couldn’t believe himself—he was going back just to see you.

It was past midnight. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to go see you, but he hoped you were up. He remembered that you tend to stay up past that hour.

He found himself smiling fondly at the memory before his smile dropped at the smell of smoke and fire in the distance.

With a racing heart, Lilia hurried to where he knew your home was.

Engulfed by fire.

The orange embers reflected on Lilia’s eyes as he gawked at the unbelievable sight. Soon, his attention was brought back to unknown faces inspecting around the perimeter. He identified the silver armor, and Lilia didn’t waste any more time acting.

“The general!” One of them shouted, the others unsheathed their swords, and they prepared to attack.

By the sound of it, Lilia supposed that this was an ambush, since it appeared that they were after him and set the house on fire to have a better chance of hunting him down.

“Where’s the human?!” Lilia demanded, pushing the lithic blade against the soldier he trapped.

“Calcinated, perhaps,” he spat.

As she was about to slice him open, something stopped Lilia.

With a hand on his arm, you managed to halt his movements. Had you come any later, the soldier would’ve had his neck chopped.

You didn’t give him a chance to question you; rather, you pulled him away from the burning place and into the forest.

To say the fae was speechless was a way to put it—he was baffled. Up until a certain moment, he managed to regain his composure and grab you by the shoulders.

“Why didn’t you let me end him?!” He shook you. “You allowed those pesky pests to get away with it!”

“Lilia—”

“What?!”

“You’re digging your nails. It hurts.”

His arms dropped back to his sides, as if you were scalding hot.

“Now what’re you going to do? Your home…”

“I have no other choice other than traveling back to town.”

“Alone? In the middle of a war? You’re lucky enough I was willing to spare you, but I can’t guarantee other faes will do the same,” Again, his hands were on you. “You’re coming with me,”

Your mind stalled.

“Huh?” You followed him when he began heading in a direction only he knew where it ended. “Are you accompanying me towards the town?”

“Do I look like someone who has that much time to spare?” He squeezed your hand more. “I’ll take you to my camp,”

You stopped walking, pulling on his hand.

“You can’t be serious. Aren’t they going to kill me?”

“Dare anyone lay a hand on you, I’ll return the action tenfold.”

“How are you so sure they won’t dare hurt me?”

“Because I’m their general.”

“So, when were you planning on telling me that minuscule detail?” Your voice became increasingly louder as you spoke from shock. “That all this time, I’ve had the general in my home?!”

“You’re going to attract an enemy’s attention. Shut up,” he said, covering your mouth with his hand. “Let’s get going,”

You managed to escape unscathed from the fire but were exhausted from the stress of having to flee. You hugged yourself while you followed the general, fending off the chill of the night that was starting to seep into your being.

There was someone waiting by the camp’s entrance, and Lilia knew who that was.

“General, there you are!” The man’s green eyes fixed on you; sheer disdain reflected on them upon seeing you. “What’s that human doing here? They didn’t harm you, right?!”

“Quiet, Baur! This human is coming with me,” Lilia looked at you for a second. “This person is... who found me wounded back then,”

It seemed as if Lilia had mentioned you to this fae named Baur before your meeting.

“I trust you’ll keep this a secret. If the soldiers ask why this human is with us, tell them that they’re being held hostage to aid with manual labor,” Lilia had made up his mind. There was no way he would let you dive into danger.

“General… I trust your judgment above all, but—”

“My decision isn’t up for debate.”

Baur shifted his gaze back on you, unconvinced of the general’s judgment. Regardless, he recognized his position and didn’t object further.

You were drowsy. You didn’t notice you followed Lilia into his tent.

Lilia, too, occupied with his own musings, didn’t bat an eye at the arrangement.

"It would be a better idea if—" he turned around and saw you had already made yourself comfortable on his bed. You had shrugged your coat off in a messy manner, one sleeve still up your shoulder.

Acting out what felt natural, he kneeled on the makeshift mattress and finished pulling the sleeve off your body. Then he grabbed the blanket to place it over you, but you stopped him by putting your hand on his cheek.

"You look tired too," you noted with a whisper.

"Not more than you."

"My body's exhausted, but my mind's wide awake still," You moved your hand away from his cheek and reached behind him to slide the hair tie off. His ponytail became undone, locks of hair falling on either side of his face.

His hand snatched yours, albeit his face was flushed and his ears red. He held your gaze, bodies rising in temperature, until he couldn’t hold it anymore and leaned down to kiss you. It started as a vehement desire to demonstrate the feelings bottled up inside.

You weren’t faring any better, hugging him close to you despite how his fangs would bite down on your lip, almost drawing blood from his eagerness. Lilia rested his weight atop yours, pinning you down against the bed, hands wandering around your torso and squeezing what he could.

Breathless, Lilia pulled away, panting, his fangs peeking.

Intrigued by their shape, your thumb touched the pointy edge, feeling its puncture on the surface.

“Your fangs. They’re very sharp,” Your thumb moved away from the impressive canine teeth, preferring to graze it across his reddened bottom lip.

“Keep touching me like that, and I’ll use them to leave marks on that pretty neck of yours.”

You swiped your finger over his lip again.

His hand went straight to your head and pulled to expose your neck; a soft mewl escaped you. In no time, restless hands undid each other’s clothes in a haze. Lilia reminded you to avoid waking up the slumbering soldiers with your constant moans.

Had his mouth not been occupied slurping and sucking your clit, he would’ve had to control his voice too; Lilia had told you to get on top of him, baring your pussy in the most vulnerable way possible by placing your knees on either side of his head. You started by trying to not suffocate him, fearing that it might be too much—Lilia couldn’t care any less about that since he pulled you closer by your hips.

Sloppy—the very image of starving and making a mess between your legs. He guided your hips to move in backward and forward motions, just making it harder for you to quiet down. 

“Lilia,” you tried to warn him of your approaching orgasm.

One hand tightened on your hips when he sensed you trying to get off, while the other slid up the small of your back to push you forward, making it easier for him to reach your clit.

“I’m going to cum, Lilia. Please,” You weren’t even sure what you were asking for, but your hips trembled, and you didn't want that satisfaction to end.

You bit down on your hand to silence yourself when you reached your climax.

However, Lilia’s hunger wasn’t satiated. You felt as if he was about to pounce on you, which wasn’t far-fetched, because he proceeded to change positions and push you on your back.

You couldn’t hold back your whimpers as Lilia kept teasing your sensitive clit, trying to tell him you were still coming down from your orgasm, but your own mind betrayed you. Lilia’s grin was fiendish, adoring the way you were so responsive to him.

“That was all it took to get this pussy this drenched?” He fingered your hole, and beyond indecent sounds came from there. “Listen to that. You’re beyond soaked. Even the insides of your thighs are covered with your cum. Didn’t you enjoy that a little too much?” he teased.

“F-Fuck, shut up,” your cheeks burned from embarrassment.

He wasn’t better off himself either. Beads of precum both roll down his dick and drip on your thigh. With the same hand he masturbated you with, he used your slick to further lubricate his cock, even if it wasn’t necessary given how wet you were.

He aligned it with your entrance and pushed in, panting from how good you felt to him. The moment he was completely inside, he began thrusting with unparalleled pace. You bit your lip, along with teary eyes, making your best attempt at keeping your voice down. Lilia noticed you struggling and bent down to shut you up with his own lips. For that instance, the tempo staggered but was still thrusting hard.

Through your foggy mind, you wondered how such a slim body like his was able to muster this much force at such a rapid pace. How a fae with a pretty and charming face like his could be this debauched...

“Ah…” he moaned against your neck, hunger overriding any sense of rationality. Lilia hid his face in your neck, licking and kissing it.

Without you needing to tell him, the general busied his hand with your clit again, pushing you closer to an orgasm. At this point, he went back to that sloppy tempo, and your hands darted to his disheveled hair, tugging those lovely locks of magenta and black hair. You tugged slightly harder without you discerning as you orgasmed, your body quivering from the intensity of the climax. A small grunt left him and came shortly after you.

After a while of catching his breath, he pulled away and lied down next to you.

“You’re lucky these soldiers are heavy sleepers, and my tent isn’t close to theirs.”

You covered your face, realizing that you were basically surrounded by more faes. “I don’t want to show my face to them,”

Essentially, the soldiers were heavy sleepers thanks to the weariness of having to train early in the day, do manual work, fight, run up and down the mountain, and everything else. They didn’t hear a thing. As for Baur, however...

[necronatural]

ghost story work 158 spoilers sorry all i fucking do is talk about shit you wont read for another month or two. Whatever. Fuck with me

the necronomicon propositioning that outer gods are metatextual ghost stories makes brasol fucking pop off because it completely reorients the power dynamic between Braun as a character in the story and Kim Soleum as a reader/writer of a storytelling wiki

and im not talking orv yoohankim this is some REAL cracked author v. subject v. reader shit because again, kim soleum is a contributor to a collaborative wiki, and as a part of an eldritch story, braun is aware of this from the start, and views himself as existing solely for his audience.

braun doesn't really perceive his shit as boring. if the material isn't gelling hes just like well. you are wrong. corruption beam �� When the quiz show was changed, it was against his will, it annoyed him. When he tells Kim Soleum the show is getting stale, he is lying because he is pressuring Kim Soleum to start the friend segment. He loves his new show concept, he just wants Kim Soleum to be on stage with him.

One has to wonder how Braun interprets their dynamic. As a ghost story, he exists for his purpose, but as a resident of an elder god's story (presumable Nyarlathotep), he would be wise to the fact he is a story in a wiki. He gets angry when meddling higher-ups fuck with his monotonous quiz show.

And we know from Kim Soleum and how SCP and backrooms wikis work that what happened was a bland uninteresting Darkness page was 'spiced up' with a scary killsyoubad monster. The higher-ups were reacting to wiki contributions, if they weren't the Wiki itself.

It is extremely interesting Kim Soleum and Braun's relationship begins with Kim Soleum essentially telling him "hey. get mad" at the concept of wiki editorializing.

And. This is so important. Kim Soleum is a wiki contributor. The only entry that he wrote himself that he's bumped into so far is one Braun was blocked from.

His contribution wasn't making it scary and more violent, though; he added empathy and advanced understanding to the premise. It's not just scary, it's tragedy, the anxiety of a miscommunication conflict. Because Kim Soleum gets ghost stories.

Which is his entire deal, that he explores the frightening and tries to comprehend it. He became a fan of the Darkness wiki from the Bureau entries, and didn't have much interest in the cult entries. All of his conflict resolution is communication, comprehension, and a sympathetic approach.

And you got this beautiful tyson hesse ass "yes and" Story Understander who thinks of ghost stories the way no one else does, that does not let his ego and his own vision intrude in the story he's sketching out, and he's in this dimension. He is like if god suddenly installed a comment section and the comment was going "oh I get it! yeah this is good". A person who writes the laws of your world based on how entertained they are by you is in your fucking house.

And then Braun spends most of this time...being Kim Soleum's audience member.

And now Braun the reader wants to contribute to the story. He's writing Kim Soleum carefully in-character based on his perfect understanding of him and everything. He's taking a position of power in his own narrative by rewriting his own audience (which we see him do to his literal audience!)

Kim Soleum's reflection on being immersed in their friendship isn't just about acting roles; this is also how he himself feels about horror stories. Even if he's frightened, even if he's stressed and unsatisfied and frustrated in the direction it is going in, he's still attached. Kim Soleum still loves ghost stories even though he's been repeatedly traumatized by living through them. He still cares about Braun and understands what he represents even though he doesn't want to be part of it. They really did come to a mutual understanding.

It just adds so much more significance to their agreement to be equals because... Kim Soleum holds so much existential power over Braun and Braun holds so much literal power over Kim Soleum. This does not make them equals - Kim Soleum does not have the power of a writer in this world, all of his 'writing' is physical action - but it does make their dynamic bonkers

Sorry I don't have a clear through-line or impactful conclusion I'm kind of just crashing out because I don't know if Braun will be in tomorrows chapter I just needed an excuse to think about him. If he doesn't show up I'll probably just keep going with "what if Braun did not know at any point Kim Soleum was God" because looooool

[1322daysofdoey]

Maybe a hot take, but... I honestly never really got the impression that Doey is aware of the fact that he is (was?) 3 different people. It's hard for me to put into words, but when I try to imagine what his thoughts could be like inside his head, it's like... It's all shared between them, because of how their consciousnesses are now blended together. What one personality is thinking, the other two are also hearing those same thoughts (even if they don't agree with said thoughts), and from that perspective it might not be all too different from any of us having intrusive thoughts, conflicting feelings, or sudden impulses. So they might not know it's actually coming from another "source".

Also, thinking about when Doey has his (genuinely understandable) mental breakdown, the part where his Kevin side talks about "hurting back", I've seen some people note how he mentions "parents" and take it as Kevin coming from an abusive family before he became an orphan. But I took it as him talking about Jack's parents. In the tape, we hear Doey (Jack) crying at the very end, after killing his parents, which I felt implies that he finally remembered them after it was too late. And now that the 3 boys' minds were all blended, a side effect could be that Jack remembering and recognizing his parents led to Kevin and Matthew now internalizing them as their "parents" as well, despite seeming like complete strangers just moments prior. Or rather, Doey internalized them as his parents, and all three of the boys are "Doey", if that makes sense. And as the scientist said, Doey was "still adjusting" after only being awake for a few days, so that adjustment could include the effects of their shared minds as they start gaining access to memories that aren't their own, and how confusing that would be for them. If you woke up with memories that conflicted with each other, memories that weren't yours, it wouldn't be easy to tell them apart because a memory is something that feels like it was always there. But with that in mind, it makes me wonder Doey still has memories of Kevin and Matthew's own parents, too, from before they died... Does he just internally have 6 people identified as "parents" in his memories, and not understand why? Or would he only think of Jack's as his parents because it was the most recent encounter? Hmm. I'm not sure. I think at least Matthew would probably remember since his family's death is the source of his insecurities... So that's likely not something he would forget about. Plus he has very clear memories about reading in the orphanage that he recalls in the unused quest dialogue, so I imagine he just has a good memory about his human past in general (especially with him being the oldest of the three).

I guess my take on it is that the memories may first come out (or are the strongest/clearest) when its "source" personality is active, but once the source consciousness recalls that memory, the other two also gain access to that memory for future reference. Because their experiences are all shared now as Doey, so they uh... Now have a memory of remembering it, lol.

[beaulesbian]

[egghead spoilers, up to chapter 1110]

Sanji's humanity & Zoro's strength

(or lack thereof) - a theory of possible conflict between Luffy's wings before the end of Egghead arc. Long post ahead. Like.. very long post.

So the new chapter had a very interesting new "banter" between Sanji and Zoro, but no, actually just Sanji, because there was no usual back and forth quips followed after.

Yes, this whole post started because of these few panels: (" ...!!")

After rereading the chapter more times I realized, Sanji's not even speaking to Zoro or knows that Zoro can hear him. He's talking about Zoro, and calling him a burden to the team.

Which is just baffling to me? (fair, maybe I'm looking too much into it and next chapter it would be explained in different way) but for now, I need to put this out there and make my own small (long) theory on this.

There's lot to be said about the word burden here, and I will get to it later in the post, but for now, let's start with Sanji and his eyebrow!

It wouldn't be a perfect story if Oda didn't tangle threads of each respective characters from multiple arcs before and brought them up together later on during one of the most difficult times when Strawhats and Luffy are facing off with so much danger (reminds me of Sabaody but in a very different way).

In this instance Sanji's past could be brought up again, something that started worrying him since his fight with Queen in Wano, and especially given that his left eyebrow has been changing its shape quite a lot during the run of the Egghead arc.

Here's just few panels throughout end of Wano up to current Egghead chapter, where Sanji' left eyebrow is in the focus on the pages:

Chapter 1029 was the first part where Sanji was thinking his body might be undergoing some changes he couldn't control -broken bones insantly healed, stronger and faster than ever before, due to him beforehand using the Germa suit which possibly triggered this sort of superhuman modification he wasn't really aware of until then. When he realized he couldn't remember certain memories, he panicked, thinking he might be changing into something similar like his brothers, a scientific weapon created by his father. The worry and panic was all the more present because he thought he hurt someone without his knowing, and that'd slowly take away his kindness and sense of humanity. (Too bad I hoped the changes his body might be undergoing would only be realization of his non-cis gender status, but maybe that's still on the table for sometime in the future.):

^In this second panel his face is on purpose shadowed, which was the last time he was shown in that chapter,

and only again was in chapter 1031 - where his eyebrow changed:

and it takes him to think about Luffy and what his purpose would be if something so important of him would change. He knows why Luffy went after him in WCI, he knows what values are important for Luffy and his crew, and of course he doesn't want to be reminded of his family and his brothers and act as they did. He chooses the humanity, the kindness that Luffy loves in him.

Even to the extent to call Zoro and make a deal with him - to kill Sanji if anything would go wrong with him. "If I'm not in my right mind, I want you to kill me." That much trust he has in Zoro to protect the crew and Luffy!

Of course Zoro wouldn't do anything reckless without a good reason, but part of their banter and understanding each other would be to promise something like that - echo of Thriller Bark and the range of how far Zoro would go to take on someone elses pain. It's a promise to win their separate fights, but also this was something that Sanji put out there for Zoro to take notice of. (I will come back to that later.):

(still the "bad eyebrow" - he had that the whole chapter 1031).

After his fight with Queen (where it was also cleared what his actions were and weren't), he was only shown two times until he woke up, and both times he had his eyebrow back on good side.

1036 & 1044 (hearing Luffy awaken his powers):

All the way up to Egghead he seemed to have his eyebrow drawn this way, and it started to change only during fights -

ch 1075, still good eyebrow, tho.. ehh this behavior.. whatever:

ch. 1078, protecting his crew from Seraphim, bad eyebrow:

in between chapters 1090 - 1105 (most of which were flashbacks and Sanji nor Strawhats were shown) he appeared with his typical eyebrow:

and it changed again in ch 1107 - when he was again protecting Bonney / fighting against Kizaru:

interesting was chapter 1108 where he's standing between Saturn and Vegapunk, and he's describing Saturn with "he's less and less human by the minute" while his own face was obscured, (I mean.. interesting choice of words and what character said it, huh?):

and the next page he still has the bad eyebrow:

in chapter 1109 it's back on his typical side, where it continues from previous chapter of Sanji carrying Vegapunk- so at some point it must have shifted back (and I'm curious if these changes would be noticable in the animation). At this part he's watching how Saturn is summoning the other Gorosei to Egghead:

Which leads me to the point from above with Zoro.

chapter 1110 and their interactions (for me) was just off. I like their usual banter and bickering, it's funny (if it's in the manga and contained to few panels to make sense, not so much in the anime, but i'm not going into that now), but the thing to call anyone of their crew a "burden" just doesn't fit right. (Especially after WCI... c'mon Sanji, and especially to someone like Zoro, who's always the first one to think about the crew.)

I would understand it if he laughed along with the words to elevate their seriousness, or said something like "Finish it up, Mosshead, we need to get moving." but no. He calls him a burden. And again as I mentioned, it pretty much could have been even Sanji not realizing Zoro can hear that.

These words (in my opinion) were chosen on purpose for multiple reasons:

First we have the Zoro vs Lucci fight that goes on for a while in the real world - in the One Piece world it might be just few minutes - plus we don't know how tough were the fights with the Seraphim which let others be injured.

When Lucci attacked, Zoro immediately thrown himself with him away from the rest of the crew. Zoro was possibly stalling with the fight for time to leave. I feel he could have finished that fight earlier but that wasn't the point. The point might have been to hold him back from his crew.

also this was possibly the only fight after King where Zoro could test the limits of his powers and haki, just like Luffy in the Udon prison in Wano was basically training, this (and the Seraphim fights we haven't seen) could be something similar for Zoro.

Some people think that just because of these characters getting new powers it means they already understand how to use them/how it works, but that's usually not the point of how stories go - there can be progress and there can be setbacks, growing up but also falling back down, which makes the stories more interesting.

The words that Lucci used against Zoro were basically the same thing that Sanji said to Zoro few chapters later:

Amongst them he pointed out the Strawhats inability to cut off one of their own out of their crew to save others - like Lucci left Kaku behind just chapters before this fight when he attacked Vegapunk and Stussy (and Sanji trapped Kaku in the bubble prison). It's a play on very different characters and how they think and act to show clearly how they different they are.

The words burden or dead-weight really stood out, already when Lucci said it in chapter 1107, and the fact that they were targetting Zoro - someone who always blames himself (in his mind, not usually out loud) for not being strong enough, and someone who always has protecting his crew at the first place, was interesting in the connection to Sanji repeating basically the same words in the latest chapter.

I will probably make a different separate post only focusing on Zoro and his fear of being weak, but for the purposes of this post, just to pick a few moments where it's important in the manga:

One of the first time I've noticed how much Zoro keeps berating himself with words like "not strong enough" "too lax" "still too soft" "if I'd been stronger/ faster/ better..."

was just after Little Garden arc, where he almost cut off his ankles just to keep fighting. Time after time the crew encounters strong enemies and Zoro gets a new understanding how far up is the limit that he has to reach to keep the crew safe, so he keeps training. ch. 129:

When Luffy went to fight Crocodile and Zoro was worried and kept training on the way to Alubarna, this banter between Sanji and Zoro felt typical between them - it's about the two way street, the back and forth (that's why that new chapter and insult from Sanji feels so foreign, there's no reply, not quip back - only silence and some sort of determination, which isn't good nor bad, just.. weird.) ch. 179:

and after the final fight of Alabasta, possibly one of the first times I really started paying attention to how much it gets to Zoro, this question of how strong he needs to be. (along with what possibly was one of the first introduction of his haki and how he began training the Observation haki, disguised as meditation in the terms of the early manga) ch. 213:

Thriller Bark was one of the biggest arcs in this sense of Zoro and his protectiveness towards the crew and Sanji knows that - he knows what happened there, he even wanted to sacrifice himself in stead of Zoro for Luffy (but this is beside the point here, and I talked about it in other post before).

Zoro took on himself Luffy's pain, and after that arc he still went right to train as soon as he could despite being still injured, ch. 490. "still too weak!"

which goes through to Sabaody arc.

Chapter 510 until the end of that arc is just painful to go through again. Luffy was worried for Zoro and didn't know the scope of his injuries, while Sanji knew and was concerned in his own way too - that is another thing of how they care, sometimes wordlessly but there is that understanding of what to mention or not. ("Burden" still shouldn't be one of the words to use between them, not that far into the story.)

Now - fast forward to Punk Hazard where one of similar moments played out - Zoro telling Luffy not to goof around because they got in the New world and needed to take things seriously.

It was one of those small moments where Sanji was actually one of the few people shown with reaction to Zoro's words and his urgency, ch 678:

Sanji saying "He's so tough on himself" really puts into perspective how he sees Zoro - he knows what he's been through, and knows to what extremes he's willing to go to protect his crew.

He's definitely not someone who would carelessly call Zoro "a burden" even in the time and place and situation they found themselves on Egghead, if anything, he was supposed to be one of the first ones to know how serious is Zoro always about protecting the crew. (Even in the beginning of Egghead, Zoro stayed at first on the Sunny because "who will save them when they will need saving.")

There's few others scenes and parts where Zoro questions his worth and strength, especially in later Wano, calculating what needs to be done so they have strength to face off with Kaido, ch 980:

and later against King, ch 1033 "it was my strength that was lacking!" while unlocking his Conqueror's haki, still unknowingly:

The fact that it's been happening pretty much since the beginning of the story - how Zoro views himself as not strong enough, yet persisting in always getting stronger and protecting his crew - means so much for what character Zoro is and how much he values and loves his crew (just like all the other Strawhats in different ways), and also, as I've been catching up so quickly with the manga, there's been that hope for some call out of this behavior, to poke it where it hurts, to see what would happen if someone turns those words Zoro possibly feels in his mind against him out loud. And that's kind of what's been happening lately - and I'm curious what impact will this have on both Zoro personally and on the other Strawhats, depending who will be around for the conclusion.

Zoro is one of the few strawhats really thinking about the future, plans and what they need to still fight through, carefully calculating what his opponents might be doing, how strong they are and how much of a problem it would be to go through them.

And Sanji normally understands that, he knows how Zoro works and the other way around, that's why he still protected him when Zoro was injured, (if anything, in this moment Zoro could have been something like hinderance or annoyance to Sanji, yet he never said something like that), ch. 1015:

Even on Egghead, where there was temporary truce with Lucci and Kaku, Zoro pointed out how to recognize the Seraphim's weaknesses, and apologized for 'wasting their stamina' - again, calculating on his strength, ch. 1077:

Zoro isn't just fighting for the sake of a fight, he does have his dream and does know what's important to focus on (he himself always keeps the crew in focus when it's important!)

So it's difficult to have a conclusion about the whole Zoro vs Lucci fight without knowing what is Zoro thinking - hopefully in next chapter we will have more info on it (that is number 1111 - Zoro's birthday and bounty! so I hope it will be a big focus on Zoro again). But even beside that, it was obvious in such short time two people around him suddenly called him a burden to his team - something he takes very close to his heart and mind, something that will hopefully have some consequences for us to see and read, because as Oda is choosing words definitely carefully to have the right impact, two very similar words like "burden" don't seem like a coincidence.

To wrap this up - with Sanji telling this to Zoro felt different than their usuall banter, and as I said before - maybe because Sanji wasn't even speaking to Zoro. At the same time, on Wano Sanji gave Zoro a clue that somehting was happening with him, the fact that there was a panel with just Zoro's ear twitching and then being silent, thinking, and not replying to Sanji with anything that would hint to us about his state of mind, and it could mean he's also aware of some difference in Sanji's acting.

The way he says this reminds me of the what Sanji was thinking during his fight with Queen - "what would be more useful to Luffy, regular flesh-and-blood body? Or a cruel, cold emotionless warrior of science." Even for this small part of seeing him speak with Jimbei and hearing what Zoro was up to until then, he speaks without almost any emotions beside anger? Even with his eyebrow not indicating the change, precisely, it doesn't have to be connected in this way, except physical fights, but there could be something still changing within Sanji to make him act this way, a way that really isn't something we've seen before. I think if in next chapters he speaks to Nami, Robin or some other woman without his typical over-the-top pleasanteries, it could indicate how much of a problem this could be for the Strawhats.

So we have Sanji's need to stay human and kind, the pact created with Zoro to kill him if anything felt wrong; and we have Zoro - someone who's biggest purpose from the beginning was to protect the crew and Luffy, while many times we've seen him question his own strength, and now two people in the span of like 5 minutes in the One Piece time are calling him a burden.

It will be interesting to see if this is heading towards a clash or conflict between Luffy's wings while Luffy needs the support to fight / flee from the Gorosei.

To end this too long post, I feel it's very on point for One Piece not to have a sole focus on just one character going through it™ in one arc, but it's always a few crumbs here and few hints there. This sort of conflict would be perfect to deal with both of Zoro and Sanji's respective fears - because this is very much about fears in their minds, while at the same time if they can resolve this, it would only strengthen their crew once again.

[sscardinal7]

Purple's monophobia has nice roots to some parental issues, and I can't emphasize enough on the honers AvM29 executed through their unique style of auditories and visuals in a headspace minimalist. Not only introducing the main climatic conflict and turning point of a character, but simultaneously expanding on those same elements through metaphorical lenses in a way where it doesn't feel.. cramped, forced, nor fast paced. Because while it is something that is handed to you, it's something you're deliberately left to dive into because of just how subtle it is. It can honestly be quite easy to miss if you're not someone who likes to unravel detailing meticulously.

Note Block Universe is a musical based short. They're acknowledging and signing instruments to these respective characters. Purple having a signature violin, and Green having a clarinete. In research, people who play the clarinet have unique and similar personalities. They're very bright, outgoing, sociable, aware, empathetic, and passionate. People who play the violin are shown to be more closed off. They are dedicated, emotional, passionate, and intelligent. While both instruments hold their own musical difficulty, they work well together in duets as well.

Getting into Purple's elaboration, their father was such a big part of their life. His role served as a tutor, a guide. (Someone who wasn't completely in his biases, but a tutor nonetheless.)

Purple was not provided an ounce of comfort following the split. To say they didn't have the best household would be an understatement. They are glued to their mother's side and catering to her health. After her death, after seemingly implying that they had buried her, they don't move from their position, and the violin starts increasing in its shaky E strings. They're locked in place. Their head stays low, and their limbs sag. They're paralyzed, a bit similar to how Orchid stood following Navy’s abandonment. Wind blows beneath the petals, and the graphs sway to reveal Purple's dad. Only then, does the motif pick up.

But It's with amusement that you note the usage of shots.

Longshots are used to highlight a character's body language and to establish their relationship with the environment. The cinematographer wants you to be indulged in the scene entirely, so there isn't a specific focus for this very purpose. Close-ups are used to communicate an intensive focus on a character's body language, expression, or a symbolic piece entirely seperate from the character. The transitions between shots delivers an emotional emphasis in compliment to context, pace, and narrative.

This clip is a follow up to the autoscripted note visuals, focusing on the transition to a headspace environment. This communicates to us that this is their nadir. A longshot; Purple's sombre, her grave, and those petals. A close-up with Purple's casted shadow and blank stare, then a close-up to their focus in question, which is their mother's grave and those petals. The wind picks up, and the graphs follow the petals, revealing their dad. A longshot, and every trace of Orchid completely vanishes. Purple lifts their head, and their concentration is completely locked. A medium-shot, Purple reaches out, and thus, their venture begins.

This transition is an immediate culmination to what we were presented with. It becomes extremely futile, restrictive, and useless if you were to not treat the autoscripted notes bit with the same field of analysis as the headspace bit. It doesn't just haunt the narrative, it's the literal motive.

Purple's father's methods in tutors weren't appropriate nor comprehensible to someone so young. (Or rather, someone who wasn't particularly made to be a candidate for sparring..) Their mother rather distanced herself from either discomfort, fear, or perhaps even both from the observings of sessions, as there isn't nearly enough to imply that Navy was physical with her before.

When Navy stomps her away, you would usually expect a parent to protest to defend their child, protest to be involved. But here is where she proves you wrong. She doesn't make it known that no, I'm not going to let you treat our child this way. While she doesn't comment on his style in parenting in the clip, the pure disgust and judgement is apparent enough.

Regardless, she still bystands until she doesn't, but it already affected Purple.

Only stepping in once she's certain they're in danger, once she believes it's a necessity. And this isn't to demonize Purple's mother, she's just a character with flaws. But being a bystander to “training” to the extent of feeling obliged to defend yourself when up against those foundations is morally unjustifiable and screams volumes on the situation. Having such an inconsistency ultimately results in Purple confiding in themselves, becoming stubborn to those outside their defensive field, because they don't think they're ready to let anyone in. Something that wasn't made by their own hands, but is left with their responsibility to break.

Navy was a tutor, as much or as less as he was a parent. Purple was distressed, begging, while Orchid did not look back once. Purple was dazed, and only then does Orchid's legs giving out from underneath her snap them out of their musings.

Because if they had done anything different, would the outcome remain the same? Would it be any different from what it is now? Is it their fault?

While they can't change the past, there's a possibility to retrieve it, isn't there?

Because Purple was a child of two people, even if they didn't particularly have a childhood. With one parent deceased, another absent, they're alone. They stood paralyzed until something itched, because they don't need to be alone. They didn't want validation, they wanted their remaining parent back into their life. Of course, keeping Navy’s style in mind, this includes validation as a narrative product, but not in the way I often see portrayed in the fandom.

Because not only is Navy huge, centered in their mind, it's his animation upon the abandonment. That head turn, the way his shoulders slightly sagged upon returning back to his motion. It's the most traumatic memory that Purple has of him. It's what they obsessively analyzed, what plays over and over again. It's the reason they're going through these drastic heights to begin with. The current situation they believe they can protest and what they believe they can accomplish by redirecting that choice.

And as Purple has to manually and metaphorically climb their depths to get to their father, they're deliberately burying and repressing their grief for their mother. Deeper and deeper as they go higher and higher.

If it be a dragon egg as the supporting figurative amongst the climb or an abrasive king who takes that spot. And the king who takes that spot is a bit more.. well, major. He's really major. Because this is an authority figure. In Purple's mind, this figure was the first to offer them a sense of belonging since their bout of being alone. The bout being (presumably) 8 years.

And latching onto the first authority figure that offers you inclusion as an immediate response because you were alone for so long, Isn't.. you know, good. That isn't healthy.

Because when they're close, their father turns his head the other way, and they fall. It's a brutal reminder. It's a shove to reality. But they're not back at the beginning. They're on a platform due to other's presence. They have a group, and they can be a part of this group. Because it's not the end just yet. Because there's someone that notices them. And he's whispering something, something they're not ready to understand, and they completely discard them.

But before the quintet even made their introduction, before they even made their appearance, before Purple can even process the potential friend group, it was their own refusal to accept Navy's choice that the platform stood to begin with.

Despite having their elytra throughout the entire span of the series, this is the only time it's actually included in their headspace. It's to emphasize a callback. Their likening to their elytra grew double in size because that was the material that gave King that greenlight approval nod. If it be their response on retrieving the elytra back onto their body after the strike from King, or if it be being held back by Green. Fishing rod in hand, and by that elytra nonetheless.

When King’s betrayal forced them back into those depths they repressed, they reflect. They're right back at the beginning, the very beginning, and those shaky E strings pick up once again. They didn't accomplish anything, and everything went to waste. But at the same time, was there really anything to waste to begin with?

Purple is back in those pools of petals, there isn't a grave to compliment, just her petals. Their head low, their limbs sagging, and Orchid’s petal falls. It's just one petal, and they extend their hand.

But it flakes right past.

Because she isn't here anymore, they don't need a grave for clarification. We don't need a grave for clarification. Only then, does Purple stiffen.

They look to their father, and his back is already turned. But that's because it always has been.

But this time they don't reach out. Because it was his choice. Because they have to accept that.

And that means they're all alone.

Or are they?

[kradogsrats]

One Truth: The Nature of the True Heart

The Dragon Prince has long dealt with contrasts and tensions between idealism and pragmatism, particularly as a source for character conflict. From Harrow, Sarai, and Viren clashing over the Magma Titan to Callum, Ezran, and Rayla deciding whether to pursue killing Aaravos or securing his prison, principles weighed against practicality is a never-ending battle for the characters of this world and story.

Since the story never purports to give us the answers to the moral questions it poses, we as the audience are left to form our own opinions and judgements. One of those that is fairly consistent across a lot of the fandom is that Ezran is naive in his pacifism and reliance on negotiation. My opinion on this has largely always been "yeah, he's naive... but he's literally twelve years old and that's developmentally appropriate, even without the trauma."

We knew Ezran and his growth would be challenged in s7, but what we also got was a codification of that process as a tangible in-setting phenomenon: the true heart.

The true heart is described to Terry, Claudia, and us (the audience) as a way of seeing the world that is innocent and good-natured, without the complexities introduced by adult concerns. All children begin life with this worldview, but it is inevitably challenged over the course of their growth by situations that it cannot necessarily react to without being inherently altered.

It is possible, though rare, to hold on to the true heart past childhood into at least the beginning of adulthood—it is revealed to us that Terry is one who has, against all odds, retained his true heart. This allows him to read the map to the Garden of Innocents, the final resting place of unicorns. However, it's Ezran whose arc through s7 is most related to the true heart, as he confronts new challenges in the world around him as well as changes to himself and those he loves.

But what is a true heart? What does it actually mean to have one?

Simple and Clean: Language Surrounding the True Heart

First of all, I think the way the true heart is intended winds up being difficult to articulate properly because even the most neutral language used to describe it is loaded with baggage. Innocence, purity (though "pure" is a word used only by Kruha, who demonstrably struggles with human language), light and darkness, simplicity, and even childhood are all concepts that carry cultural connotations that skew our perception of what's being discussed.

In the heavily Christian-influenced culture of the West and USAmerica, the concepts of childhood, innocence, and simplicity in combination carry associations that become protectiveness, condescension, or dismissal. While childhood and innocence are valued as things that should be protected in those who have them, that leads adults to dismiss children as essentially lesser beings. Innocence and simplicity together are indistinguishable from naivete, another feature associated with a need for protection, but with a nice slice of contempt on the side. If you weren't so naive, you would have known better than to get hurt.

Finally, from a perspective saturated with Christianity, innocence is also conceptually inextricable from the concept of sin. Like, one of the central myths of Christianity is that the first humans were enticed to defy God and eat the forbidden fruit that granted knowledge of good and evil, which made them aware that their naughty sex parts and female-presenting nipples must be covered, which meant they had to be expelled from paradise into a world of struggle, pain, and death. This transgression was so severe that it tainted every human ever born, until a few thousand years later when God personally came to earth as a self-cannibalizing sacrifice to essentially pay bail on letting their souls into heaven. (This is a very serious and 100% theologically accurate summary, don't @ me.) As a result, we get fucking weird about innocence and its "loss."

The point is that in the setting, it's strongly suggested that there is no inherent "better" or "worse" to whether you have a true heart or not. You aren't morally superior for having one (though the nature of the true heart aligns more with compassion and openness, it doesn't have a monopoly on them), nor are you necessarily wiser or more mature for not. There are roles and circumstances where one might serve better than another—the likelihood of Ezran being able to continue indefinitely as king with a true heart has always been low, but an argument could definitely be made that his true heart was necessary to change the world, and the setting would not be what it now is without it. The true heart—as well as people who retain it into adulthood, like Terry—is a vital part of society, in that it inspires people toward an ideal. Terry calling out Claudia on her cruelty toward Rayla shames her enough to go back and correct it. Ezran giving up the crown in exchange for the safety of any moral dissenters within the Katolis army gives those dissenters space to take a stand—something crucial to their eventual victory.

So here's how I propose thinking about it in a way that's slightly less loaded with unnecessary associations: instead of innocence, the true heart is about faith. Specifically, an unwavering faith that people are inherently good. From that faith, several important conclusions are derived:

People are inherently good, therefore all people want the same or similar things both for themselves and for the world: peace, plenty, and community

People are inherently good, therefore if someone is intentionally doing things that hurt others, they either don't understand the impact of their actions or are lashing out as a result of fear or pain

People are inherently good, therefore treating everyone with dignity, respect, and compassion is the natural state of any society

These form the basis of the worldview and resulting behavior of those with true hearts.

The Tides are True: Depth and Complexity

Despite all of that, Aaravos describes the true heart in a fairly neutral manner to Claudia:

All children have a true heart. But as we grow up, we are forced to make choices, sacrifices, compromises. And they change us forever. Childhood innocence gives way to something... complicated.

and later to Terry:

The true heart is a gift of childhood. For a few wonder-filled years, we each have innocent eyes to experience the world's beauty in a simple way. I have seen generations of humans and elves accept the darkness that lurks in all of us beside the light. There is no black or white, only shades of gray. We must all carry complexity. But please believe me that there is beauty in this burden. Your heart will be a little heavier. But now, there will be no more half-truths.

In both explanations, he refers to what replaces the true heart—what we grow into—as "complicated." We learn to accept that nothing, including ourselves, is purely one way or another, but at some gradient point in-between that will be different from everyone else's. The words he uses—"light" and "darkness," "black or white," "shades of gray"—all carry strong connotations of a scale of morality, and the understanding that nothing can be fully good or fully evil, but is instead inevitably... complicated.

However, I think this is meant to be a little deeper than just that surface-level association to tie in with the overall light/dark and complex morality themes of the show overall. These are things we've heard in another context: of all the primal sources Callum could have focused on or arcana he could have unlocked in arc 2, there's a reason what we got was Ocean.

A better way to refer to the "darkness that lurks in all of us beside the light" is as those depths you can't see—it's not about good and evil, it's about clarity and obscurity. Simplicity and complexity. People, even people you love, aren't all the same. They don't all want the same things for themselves and the world.

There are depths within you that you may not see or understand, but even more so, there are depths in others that you will never see or understand. Even if someone is only lashing out because they're hurting, there are hurts you cannot heal. There are people who will refuse to allow their hurts to heal. There are people (and by people I mean Aaravos) who would rather make the entire world hurt along with them than ever allow themselves to heal. You can't heal these people for them. It's beyond your control, and all you can do is respond appropriately to their actions and mitigate the harm they do.

When you accept that, you will treat those people differently. You may decide to keep trying, but with the knowledge that it will be an uphill battle of strategy, compromise, and progress so slow that few will recognize your work as worthwhile. You may decide not to waste your time and effort on them anymore, and focus your attention on doing a broader range of good more efficiently than struggling to change a single heart or mind. You might decide to make them the enemy, and purposefully antagonize them because you are hurting, too—maybe even because of them.

The point is that there is now "us/me" and "them," and that's what's antithetical to the true heart. You can't fix everything simply by reaching the part of them that's the same as you. You will have to compromise.

A Just King: Ezran's True Heart

Before examining Ezran's true heart arc in s4-s7, I want to point out a much earlier, and perhaps unexpected, appearance of a textbook child's true heart:

Yes, back in s1e2, Callum had a true heart. (By the standards with which I'm describing it, at least.) Where did it go? When did it go? Someone more interested in Callum could probably write a very long essay about that. You could probably make a case that being possessed by Aaravos the first time is the final vestiges sliding away.

This also highlights my personal theory that the true heart of childhood is not usually lost in a single, all-or-nothing event. It's like losing your baby teeth—under normal circumstances, it happens one or two at a time over the course of a few years, until you've Ship of Theseus-ed your whole mouth. (Also, in contrast to things like "losing" your virginity, there's no weird purity or moral connotations to it. It is a completely normal thing that happens to everyone as part of growing up.) However, it's also possible to have some, a majority, or even all of your baby teeth traumatically knocked out of your head at once.

Oh, wait.

Let's roll back a bit, first. Ezran's arc, like... well, everyone's, gets its initial setup in s4. In fact, it kicks off s4: the major event starting the season is Zubeia's visit to Katolis, which is clearly one of Ezran's first big initiatives toward not just peace, but potential unification.

In the lead-up to Zubeia's visit, Ezran's true heart is on full display in his behavior and the assumptions he's making:

Zubeia is a good person, and good people will understand and accept that both she and other dragons should be treated as friends.

Everyone will approach this meeting with open hearts, because everyone wants to grow toward peace and understanding.

Even when the meeting, where he is honoring the Dragon Queen in the final resting place of human kings and queens, no small number of whom (including his own mother) were killed by dragons, is sabotaged by a relatively mild act of vandalism, look at his response:

The person who did this is obviously lashing out because they are hurting—they are angry, and that anger needs to be soothed. He affirms that he and the people are the same, inside. They are all angry and in pain... but, like him, they all want to not be angry and in pain anymore, and understand that the way to do that is to move forward.

This is not to say that he's wrong, or even ineffective—he speaks from his true heart, in a poignant call to both himself and his people to acknowledge the past while looking to the future, and to reach for that future in every way they can instead of clinging to the hate of the past. It's a key scene for all of arc 2, and one that is returned to over and over again, thematically.

However, it's also a point where he demonstrates how his true heart leaves him ill-equipped to approach Rex Igneous's selfishness, or Sol Regem's hatred, or even Karim's petty arrogance... much less the shit Aaravos has going on.

(Speaking of Sol Regem... he not only refuses to be healed, but instead demands to be remade into an engine of indiscriminate death and destruction. He really does out-bitter Aaravos, on occasion.)

Then s7 hits, and two things happen: Katolis is destroyed, and Runaan is returned to the living world. Well, both of those technically happen in s6, but Ezran actually has to deal with them in s7.

For all that Katolis being destroyed sets Ezran on a path toward the complex politics and morality of nuclear deterrence, it's really the situation with Runaan that both tests and exemplifies Ezran's true heart. Aaravos's initial explanation of the true heart ("Childhood innocence gives way to something… complicated.") is directly overlaid on Ezran's dealing with the aftermath of Callum helping Rayla and Runaan escape the Banther Lodge. I don't think Ezran ever really expected to have to deal with Harrow's killer, since Runaan is presumed dead, so he's unprepared to be confronted with it—particularly given that he has convinced himself he's over it, when he really isn't. He's tested both in suddenly facing a person he can't see as good, deep down. Runaan wasn't lashing out because he was hurting or scared, nor can Ezran conceive of them wanting the same things. There's also the sense of betrayal at Callum and Rayla differing so deeply from his own reaction, when they were previously so in tune—literally banding together despite being born on opposite sides of a millennia-old war, because they recognized the goodness in each other and that they all wanted peace.

Ezran's reaction to Runaan is definitely affected by what happens to Katolis—he's denied not only any kind of justice for Sol Regem's attack, but any explanation. Runaan's fate is something he can ostensibly control, in a situation where he feels both responsible and powerless. Now, an entire separate post could be done about s7's recurring exploration of punitive versus restorative justice through Rayla's trial, Ezran and Runaan, Janai and Karim, Terry, and (as always) Aaravos, but to briefly recap part of my meta on Terry's true heart and growth: Terry, in being challenged during s7, comes to realize that even if he chooses to continue holding to his true heart's faith in the world and others, he is complicit in the harm Claudia and Aaravos have done, and he feels compelled to start doing the work to repair that harm as much as he can. While he hasn't necessarily done anything that would warrant punitive justice, he recognizes that truly doing good requires work and effort, and sometimes doing difficult things. There's not really anything Runaan can (knowingly) offer to make right what he did, beyond his confession that he has come to realize everything he believed at the time was wrong, and he did grievous harm to Ezran that night. However, in that confession, he says something crucial:

Ezran's true heart led him to rule in a way that changed the world for the better, moving toward an unprecedented era of peace—something that, to Runaan's eyes, required a great deal of strength to put aside completely legitimate pain and grievances that could have easily rekindled millennia of war. (See also: "It's a strong name" in that Terry meta.)

I think it's in part because of that reminder—the description of the kind of person and king he wants to be—that Ezran chooses compassion and working toward forgiveness with Runaan. He's not choosing the true heart as a core part of his identity the way Terry does, but his own past true heart inspires his current self to make a decision that's right, but also hard. As with Terry, he is discovering that goodness can take work—true, concerted effort to both determine and follow the right path.

Does Ezran retain his true heart throughout s7? I don't know. I don't think it's entirely as simple as a yes/no state, and he has definitely lost some of his earlier confidence and beliefs. Ultimately I'm not sure it matters. He took a solid punch to the mouth, but either way... it seems like he's going to come out of it okay.

Not Worthy: Claudia's Skewed Perception

And now, a final tangent.

All that stuff I said earlier about a true heart not making you better or worse, and its "loss" being morally neutral? Well, there's at least one person who doesn't see it that way.

In s7, Claudia's inability to read the map and Terry leaving her (as she knew he would, when he learned the truth about her and her behavior) both contribute to the insecurities she has carried for most of her life. Claudia derives most of her self-worth from being very good at dark magic, and therefore loses emotional stability when either she "fails" at something magic-related or dark magic itself is questioned.

This is an interesting connection, because the true heart and/or its loss isn't inherently linked to dark magic. A true heart doesn't shrivel and die at your first dark magic spell, but it's inevitable that the practice of dark magic will at some point become impossible to reconcile with the core beliefs of the true heart simply because they're inherently incompatible... you can't see sapient magical creatures as "people" the same as you and as resources for spell ingredients. So while it's not surprising that Claudia no longer has her childhood true heart, it's not necessarily because of her dark magic... and yet, some part of her perceives it as an indictment against her.

We also know exactly where she probably internalized that view:

Puzzle House is actually where we first encounter the concept of the true heart, as a yes/no state that allows you to access the map to the Garden of Innocents. Kruha, the map's guardian, doesn't ascribe any moral value to being able to see the map or not—noting that he, himself, is "too old" to see it, anymore. However, a single note from Kpp'Ar, combined with her own insecurities at a point of emotional turmoil in her life—her mother has left her, Kpp'Ar has (apparently) left her, she's acting out by attempting increasingly complex self-taught magic and keeps getting in trouble because of it—lead even a 7-year-old Claudia to question whether she might also be unable to see it due to being "not good."

We still don't know why Kpp'Ar was seeking the Garden of Innocents and what caused his "change of heart," but if it's at all comparable to Viren's experience, he was going through The Horrors(tm)—it's not surprising that he'd indulge in a little self-loathing in what's meant to be a private note. Claudia, meanwhile, has her faith in him as a mentor figure she wishes to emulate shaken—he imprisoned Kruha, keeping him collared like an animal, away from his home and family. She knows that's wrong, and struggles to reconcile the Kpp'Ar she knew with someone who would do that. If Kpp'Ar is somehow bad, and she didn't know, could she also be bad and not realize it?

This is particularly interesting to me because she doesn't have this crisis when Viren quits dark magic, even when he explicitly tells her he led her down the wrong path. She does question whether she should also quit dark magic, but it's from the perspective of "it seems like it might have done him a lot of good, emotionally... maybe I should also try it?" rather than "my dad thinks I'm evil, actually," or even "my dad explicitly said he hopes I'll take a different path, one day... am I betraying him if I don't?" She's remarkably chill about it, though to be fair, she's probably still in a state of emotional shock and dissociation. She gets progressively more sensitive about it again during s7, particularly as she receives validation from Aaravos.

Anyway, just a little window into which little wheels are spinning in Claudia's head when she insists she hasn't changed:

I'm sure that won't be significant as she starts her Dragon Girl Summer (and Autumn, and Winter, and Spring).

[emblemxeno]

The thing that I think Fates does so incredibly well, enough so that it's probably my favorite in the series in this regard, is how much it frames context and rewards players for being willing to interact with the characters and the world.

You're given a very specific image on characters just from their first impressions as a whole, and the more you ultimately look past that, the more you unearth the whole context behind the setting. The conflict is a great example of this; it seems like one of the many typical "good vs. evil" conflicts in the setting, and the problem with that is the more you interact with the characters and the more you actually interconnect details and known concepts, the more it quickly becomes different from that. The Nohrian siblings are abuse survivors, their father warped beyond recognition into a puppet for an insane god who seeks to burn the entire world to the ground and everyone just treating this day-to-day insanity as somehow normal or justifiable, while Hoshido only has any kind of knowledge in regards to Nohr based on the Faceless attacks that Garon sends through the barrier; this leads to a lot of demonization of the Nohrians that are just not something they're even aware of, with a major part of the parallels they have in a route shows they need each other much more to coexist than they do to be enemies. Nohr was starving, driven by meritocracy and ultimately was still recovering from a country-devastating civil war, while Hoshido was plentiful, had all of its servants determined by the elite, and knew very little when it came to peace. The implication and fact that both were conquering empires and Mikoto's reign was an anomaly, the warped nature of Garon being a sign something was very wrong as a whole, and both factions just assuming the status quo was as it was and that it was just to be accepted that these two factions were meant to clash with each other in ways that completely justified the other.

What Fates does so well that stands out to me is how much of the narrative ends up being expanded upon and given depth by communication. There is such obstruction on much of the characters motivations and you only get the full story from outright seeking out these perspectives, but what it fully intertwines and exposes is that both sides are full of human beings worth protecting and that's clearly something that matters. And it's hard to think of a route that illustrates that more than Conquest, which takes an entire sledgehammer to the idea that the invasion and conquest of a nation full of innocent people wasn't anything but avoidable and that you weren't the hero for it; you did it because you had to with how much obstruction the politics in Nohr led and how you barely had any options to challenge the system that wasn't deliberately breaking it, but it ultimately showcases how much of the conflict is still the choices within the characters. Chapter 24 confirms what Hinoka says in Endgame with Corrin becoming a pariah for his choice (and understandably so), with his final confrontation with Takumi having him understand what he had to do and not trying to twist it or justify it, but how much of it that it actually was his doing and how he needed to take responsibility for that. Which is precisely what he did at the end of Conquest and ultimately talked with Takumi and allowed the two to communicate how they wanted to feel.

And that's ultimately the core of Fates; how much communication reveals the humanity of the other side and how they're not just tragic victims for you to roll over against, how it's important to understand when somebody needs to be talked to and when somebody is speaking in bad faith. Even Kaze defects because Corrin actually communicates his plan to Kaze in Chapter 11 and because he didn't have any real alternative in this regard, but it makes for such a fascinating narrative as a whole because it's deliberately rewarding to those who seek out this kind of knowledge. It doesn't withhold any information for those seeking to find it; even the Ancient Texts reveal the entirety of the cosmology of Fates for those interested enough to dig into it, and it reveals a perspective that I think is just fascinating.

And I think that's the thing that gets me, because Conquest is just especially relevant IMHO in today's day and age. As an American where it feels like apathy and complacency led to tyranny and oppression, it's important to remember that people are complicated and nuanced, that suffering does not need to happen and that all nations ultimately have humanity to them at the end of the day. Xander and Ryoma try to speak for the longest time how this war and their victory was a tragic inevitability and needed to happen. Corrin, who was shielded from most of the outside world, knew this wasn't the case and that, no, it didn't need to happen. Because we take for granted how much it is communication needs to happen, because we aren't meant to be alone and I think anything that tries to prevent you from communicating to the other side or lies to you to prevent you from seeing the full picture is one that ultimately doesn't want to lose its credence to the audience. This is why I don't like 3H; Fates is entirely consistent with what it believes if you actually communicate properly, while 3H remarks on how "tragic" it is characters like Edelgard are being revanchists who side with Those Who Slithers and doesn't want you to actually question what it says versus the actions of these characters. Fates, meanwhile, leaves it up to you to have these actions be in any way consistent, because the whole point of Fates is how we're ultimately in control of our actions and that allowing us to be dictated by circumstances as it's "just so" is precisely how the characters got into the mess to begin with. Quote Corrin at the end of Conquest:

Anankos? What are you talking about?! Your god has nothing to do with this! We all make our own decisions. You are responsible for all of this, monster! You destroyed the heart of a good man for your own selfish gain. But even you could have chosen a different path. No matter the circumstances we are born into, or the blood in our veins… We are all the masters of our own fate! That is why I am not like you, nor could I ever be. I chose the path I believe in, the path of peace. And that conviction, that strength… I will use that power to defeat you!

Fates I think is truly special, and part of why I get so emotional about it and the lack of respect it gets and people just dismissing it has no depth is that I can clearly see what's being said, and I think it's absolutely wonderful and needs to be preached to the core more. Fates is the kind of story that I think is amazing when you actually construct the full picture and truly unforgettable, not just for how internally consistent it is, but how much it ties into FE's core themes as a series and how much of it we just take for granted concepts like tyranny and cruelty and realize the best way to defeat this is to take responsibility for our actions and actually communicate than dismiss the instance as an inevitability. Almost all failures comes down to excuses, and the way Fates is a sledgehammer and jeremiad to the concept of moral complacency and how interwoven it all is just makes the game so special to me and my heart.

YES YES YES, THIS IS THAT *GOOD* SHIT

What I really appreciate about Fates, like you said, is that it really walks the walk when it comes to communication, humanity and grasping with the weight of people's lives.

It's true that it's cathartic to have characters like Hector or Ike be really gung-ho about removing the problems directly in their way, and taking no shit from their enemies.

But in a broader sense, what speaks to me is Corrin, painted as naive and childish, is correct in the philosophical statement being made.

Why is fighting each other endlessly the status quo? Why do you have to kill your enemies at every opportunity? Why is a future where people can respect one another so unbelievable?

And even then, with all of that, the story doesn't let malefactors off the hook. The abusers of that cruelty and irrationality are punished for it. Corrin gives them the chance, but when they're so set in their ways after that? No dice.

The tragedy here, is that sometimes, innocent people who would very much be able to be convinced, are caught in the crossfire. Dying for their lord, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, being too belligerent and forcing someone's hand in order for them to survive, and just plain bad luck. And Fates' story, rightfully, treats this as something to be upset over, because it respects human life. It doesn't treat it just as a tool to make you sypmathize with what a character is going through, or as just a statistical risk in the background; rather, it materializes the effects of your actions.

And isn't that the beauty of FE stories as they are? They are simulated war chronicles, after all.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

how about Candy meeting another Genyr!reader who luckily survived Night Terrors’ attack all those years ago? Like the reader just joined the mansion and didnt know Candy&Terrors were theree?? This might be a little bit of a crazy ask, but do what you will with it <3

This got pretty long, so I hope you enjoy <3

It had been several hundred years since the event that had forced Candy to share his body with Terrors, and both of them were long past the point of assuming any other members of the Genyr race were left alive. So much time and so much energy had been put into moving past that traumatic event, and so much growth on both of their parts toward bettering themselves and learning to live with the pain of the past. So, when Slender pulled Candy aside one day to have a complicated conversation, learning of your existence was the last thing that Candy had been expecting at all. Slender had made Candy aware in advance, although he hadn't had the time to prep you before your own arrival which would, unfortunately, be happening that day. Candy didn't really believe it, because how could he? At least, until you walk through those front doors.

"Oh my god!!" Was the first shared thought between Candy and Terrors upon Candy's vision landing on you, Candy because he was so excited, and Terrors because he was having a holy shit what do I even do in this situation moment. You, of course, were also in complete shock at the situation, frozen in the doorway and blinking as though there must have been something wrong with your eyes. Slender would have to pull both of you aside this time, to help explain the situation and try and help both of you get settled with this. You're feeling a torrent of emotions, having also assumed you were the last surviving member of your race all these years, so to learn that you weren't alone was a very emotional feeling for both you and Candy, met with hugs and tears and a deep connection being formed between the two of you immediately as you talked and explained how the last couple hundred years had gone for the two of you. You were starting to think that the world was looking up and nothing bad could happen now, at least, until Candy backed away from you, quite distraught, mentioned that he had to explain something, and with the help of Slender told you how the way he had stopped Terrors all those years ago was by essentially fusing their souls together. Of course, you're now freaking out, realizing that the man who had murdered all of your species except for the two of you had been inside of Candy this whole time.

The next few weeks are awkward for everyone involved, with you switching between being incredibly angry and betrayed, but also wanting to grow closer to Candy, but also not even wanting to look at him. Neither Candy nor Terrors could really blame you, with how conflicting the last month must have been for you to learn that both the man that had been thought to have killed everyone you knew and loved was still alive, but so was the person that had stopped him. I think it would get to the point where you and Terrors would have to sit down and really talk it out. Candy had hundreds of years to internally argue with Terrors and see him gradually improve, but you hadn't been there for any of that. Terrors does a very uncharacteristic apology, not quite groveling at your feet but pretty damn close to it, and he'll even let you beat the shit out of him if you want to, he knows he deserves it. He just asks that you don't blame or avoid Candy because of this situation because none of it is his fault. He understands if you want to avoid him, but he really does hope you'll get closer to Candy because Candy is truly all you have left of your race. Thankfully, for both you and Candy, you do take his advice and get closer to him. While you and Candy easily grow closer, drawn in by familiarity and nostalgia, just as it had been for Candy, it will be a very, very, very long time before you can consider spending any time at all with Terrors, which both Candy and Terrors understand and respect. Candy is just so unbelievably thankful to have someone else from his race after spending so many years alone, and he'll do anything he can to keep both of you alive and together, so you never have to be separated again.

[kairiscorner]

question of the day: who would fall the hardest if they ever fell in love?

well... i've got 4 candidates in mind, and i think... (4/4)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

hobie brown. — guilty of falling hard for you.

summary: hobie never thought that he'd feel anything more than a friendly feeling with you–and he never wants that feeling to end. pairing: hobie brown x gn!reader genre: fluff !!

hobie brown does not care about labels, they do nothing but confine him to one facet of himself, and he finds that utterly displeasing. he's finally able to live his life with such bohemian freedom that he doesn't wanna let go of it by conforming to what people think of him. though, there is one label he doesn't mind considering as the truth... being the boy who loves you the most.

hobie brown has always seen eye-to-eye with you, despite being strangers not too long ago. the minute he met you, he could tell here was something special about you; maybe it was the way you talked, the way you walked, the way you laughed, your personality, your determination to never give up so easily... but whatever it was, you had him hooked on you.

hobie brown had never met anyone quite like you, and that was the best part about you--you had your own uniqueness, your own spark about you. every time he thinks he knows everything about you, he's suddenly thrown into another world, another side of you that he had never seen before and inevitably got blown away by.

hobie brown loves how you're like a firecracker--colorful, unpredictable, fiery, and hot--you're full of surprises that only he knows about, you're full of life and vigor and he gets more and more interested in you the more he sees you this way.

hobie brown can't believe, though, how easy it is for him to just like you. everyone at the spider society, every one of his close friends, all love you, that's for sure. but what he can't believe is how innate liking you seemed to him; it came as easy as breathing and blinking, as natural as it was for his heart to beat and for his brain to function.

hobie brown was sure that you weren't just anyone, no, you were... ethereal, you weren't ordinary; and nobody thought you were ordinary, you were aware of that. you were never one to comply with what society declared you should appear or act as, you were you, and that was the person hobie was most fond of: the real you.

hobie brown found himself tinkering with a new gizmo he had going on, he was a little anxious while making this, in complete honesty. he hadn't always been confident that every machine he makes'll work out the way he wants them to or even work at all, but he's accepted failure as part of the process. what he's anxious of is... if you'll like it.

hobie brown is shaking in the knees right now, but he's trying to play it cool, to shake that shaking out of his joints and act as calm and composed as he usually does around you, but it's too hard. it's too hard to calm around literally the most perfect person in the world that looks up to you and calls you their closest pal and who also has the sweetest laugh and smile in the world and the most perfect personality that anybody could ever seek for in a lover.

hobie brown is conflicting with himself right now, and this hasn't happened to him in years. hobie's muttering to himself the lines he practiced, trying to run by himself how being cool was supposed to be, because when he's trying to get a grasp of himself back in his mind, his mind defaults to thoughts of you.

hobie brown is blanking out right now, finally faced with you. he clears his throat and involuntarily flashes you a tiny, quivering grin. he's stuttering and stammering, which is quite uncharacteristic of him, but he was always unexpectedly cute no matter how he carried himself.

hobie brown finally says 'screw it' and clears his throat for the final time. "now, i... i might sound ridiculous right now, but... i remember you said you had a music box as a kid back then, always played the melody you hummed and taught me way back when we first met. a-and, well... i'm not the most skilled artist in the world, but, i'm your artisan, like you say. and this artisan hopes... that you like it." he said as he handed you a little box colored in your favorite hues with all kinds of colored papers, paints, and little designs on them with a wind-up dial on its side.

hobie brown anxiously watches you open up the box, and as he takes your hands in his to show you how to wind-up the dial, a couple of cats were on the little pedestal that popped up and twirled slowly as a soft beat from a song in your childhood played.

hobie brown smiled wider as he watched you grin and chuckle at the adorable little thing, he felt his heart skip a beat or two when he realized you were happy seeing this, having this in your hand, hearing those familiar notes from your childhood... and it was also here, when you told him a 'thank you' that his world became brighter. he got a bit heated in the face, his smile unwavering but instead growing, and he nodded as you leaned closer against him. he's decided, finally, that he indeed, does love you; and from that love... he fell, and fell hard for you, wanting to see that smile of yours every day not because of the music box or anything he gives you, but because of him. that is all hobie wants and needs in his life, that is all he yearns for to be complete--you and your happiness.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @euphovlq @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @arachnoia @solecitoszn @conitagray

[muddyorbsblr]

when the feeling sinks in

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: dating era; a few months after 'one look and they'll know'

Summary: Ragnarok wrapped up filming and now you're back in your apartment, waking up a little too alone and feeling a little too lonely. You thought that you were the only one until you heard a knock on your door.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: language; mentions of alcohol use if you squint [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: slight angst; Tomathy enters his comforting bf era; Reader's a-plus premature timing

The chipper intro of your morning alarm taunted you today as the curtains drew open, bathing your room in the light of the sunrise. You felt conflicted, laying there in your bed. On the one hand, you didn't want to get up because you knew what awaited you was nothing but a long tiresome day of unpacking and cleaning your apartment, making the place livable again after being away for the last few months on set for Ragnarok. A pile of mail to open and checks to deposit and bills to pay, along with a considerably thick layer of dust on nearly every surface of your home, were all waiting for you to get your ass up out of bed and make this place seem like a home again.

On the other hand, you didn't quite want to stay in your bed, either. It felt hauntingly empty, a loneliness creeping its way through you as the words of the song filling up the room dared to mock you.

There is no way I'm looking for a boyfriend, there is no way I'm looking for a scene

So much for your adamant intent of not wanting or needing to be with anyone but yourself. After the last few months of feeling like you were living in some modern day fairytale where the 'plain Jane' girl entered into a whirlwind romance with the actor that has literally played princes and kings, the clock finally struck midnight.

And rather than being thrust rather harshly into reality, you were shoved back into it. Face down on the ground as soon as your plane hit the tarmac.

Now you were back in the bed you left all those months ago, painfully aware of what you were missing ever since you'd stubbornly decided that you weren't cut out for relationships all those years ago. The last few months saw your steady descent into becoming spoiled with affection, waking in Tom's arms, those sinfully skilled hands roaming your body as the sunlight touched your skin.

A decadent round of lovemaking before you even left the bed when your schedules permitted it.

You felt every bit like a princess when you were with him. Or in his words, a goddess. Now you were back to being a pumpkin and you needed to pick yourself up from the path you were spiraling down headfirst before you found yourself fully admitting to sentiments you swore you'd never feel again.

He must leave a trail of heartbroken women in his wake if he treated all his flings like that, you thought to yourself ruefully, your body whining and aching in places you didn't think they could as you sat up in your bed. Before you could even think about it, you reached for your phone and typed down the sentiment in a note, keeping it in a hidden folder that you for the most part did your best to never revisit once you'd placed something in there.

"Oh how you've ruined me for everyone else but you, Thomas William Hiddleston," you spoke out loud as you typed down the note, locking it away in a folder deep in your drive. You hoped that with putting away the note, the sentiment would be buried deep down as well.

You put your hair up in a bun, pulling on an old shirt and some sweats from your college days and started cleaning away at the house, putting your clothes from the set straight into the wash. The faintest scent of his cologne hit you as you tossed it into the washer, taking you straight back to your memory of one of the last times you saw each other, at the wrap party.

You stood at a little table with Bryan and Denise, nursing a strawberry lemonade with a splash of vodka, wincing the slightest bit whenever the liquor made its presence felt in the taste. "I said a splash," you grumbled, placing the drink atop the tray of the wait staff collecting drinks was holding. "Damn thing's probably fifty percent vodka."

"Hey hey there you three are!" Taika greeted you, pulling you all into a little group hug. "Making this has been a dream and a half, and I owe you and your team so much thanks, lil mayhem. I'm definitely calling you again when we start on the next one."

"Ooh, so Marvel's definitely getting you again, then, boss?" Denise quipped, excitement and a bit of alcohol reddening her cheeks and making her the comical picture of cherubic inebriation.

He shook his head with a wide smile that left you confused. "No," he answered her. "But a bit of positive thinking never hurt anyone, am I right?"

The song blaring on the speakers changed to a familiar beat from Zedd, your teammates and Taika all dragging you out into the dance floor with them as the words began to hit you like a freight train.

You are the piece of me I wish I didn't need

Instead of dwelling on the lyrics, you forced yourself to move your body to the beat, finding yourself even having fun despite the glimpses you'd caught of various members of the crew along with some members of the press openly flirting with Tom. Despite your words to him this morning, the sight of him still visibly moving forward so easily felt like a stab to the heart.

"Something about all good things ending eventually," your memories taunted you. "Thank you for giving me a good thing."

The song faded out to give way to the acoustic notes of that James Arthur song that you'd been hearing all over Spotify, and just as you were about to take your leave from the dance floor, you were spun into a familiar pair of arms. Suddenly the very eyes that you'd been trying to block out from your mind were staring down at you, a soft smile gracing those heartbreakingly handsome features.

Tom wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you in a secure hold as he ran the backs of his fingers along your cheek with his free hand. "May I have this dance, goddess?" He broke out into a brilliant blinding grin when you mutely nodded your head, placing your hand on his shoulder as he began to sway you to the beat of the song.

"You should know right now that I can't dance like this to save my life," you told him, unable to fight back the smile that stretched across your face as you looked at him.

"Neither can I," he answered you with a chuckle, a tenderness in his eyes that had you struggling to stay upright had he not been holding you up. "Perhaps we could find our way together."

The seething piercing gazes of the women around you began to steer your thoughts down a rather self-conscious route, the bitter scrutiny in their eyes as they looked at your simple navy blue skater dress that you got on sale back home. Meanwhile their clothes screamed designer; even if some of them might have to be extra careful tonight so that they could successfully return them with tags intact, at the moment all that mattered to them was that they were dressed better than you…and yet somehow you were the one dancing with the most handsome man in the room.

Their faces screamed with the incredulous question "Why her? She's nothing special."

"You know I don't think it's expressly polite for you to ignore all the other pretty girls in this party," you mumbled, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach as his gaze never left yours. As if he didn't even care about anyone else watching you. "They're practically shaking from itching to dance with you."

"They'll be left itching and wanting, then," he shot back, both of your breaking into a fit of chuckles from the thought. "And as for beautiful women…" He tilted your chin up to hold your gaze. "There's only one that I care about. And she's already in my arms."

"Smooth talking way too handsome for his own fucking good living breathing Disney Prince," you grumbled as you started your first load of laundry. You dragged your feet to the supply closet to grab a bunch of cleaning rags and start at your living room, feeling a slight satisfaction watching as the dust made its way off the various surfaces and you could finally start to see your home once again.

When night began to fall and you had to start turning on the lights throughout your apartment just so you could see and make your way around without bumping into any corners, you decided to order in some dinner. Mostly because your stomach was beginning to sound like a baby gremlin.

You were just about to press 'Order Now' on your screen when your doorbell rang. "Okay if that's my delivery they better not be charging me extra for psychic services, I haven't even pressed the damn button yet," you muttered, immediately feeling like you swallowed your tongue the second you opened the door.

It wasn't Postmates.

"Tom?" The air left your lungs as you uttered his name, refusing to believe what your eyes were seeing. Meanwhile the very same man with the oceanic eyes and god-like face and body that you were trying to block out of your mind was standing not even two feet in front of you, wearing the same smile that he had on his face like he just ran five laps around the studio.

His grin got wider as he breathed your name, running his gaze down your face and what parts of your body weren't covered by the door.

"What--What're you uhh…doing here?"

He became a bit sheepish, running his hand through his short dark blond curls, tilting his head down before looking at you with the most endearing boyish expression. "I erm…If I'm being completely honest I'm here because I wanted to see you." His gaze darted to beyond your door before landing on your face again. "May I come in?"

You immediately snapped out of your stupor, feeling a complete fool for forgetting your manners. "Oh! Uhh of course." You opened your door wider to let him step through, suddenly feeling rather inadequate in your own home, feeling like your college sweats didn't measure up to his no doubt designer threads. "Sorry for the mess," you mumbled, waving your hand in the direction of the insides of your house, then at yourself. "I was cleaning up since I haven't been home in months and I wasn't expecting company--"

Any lame apology for the frumpy way you looked died in a muffled squeak at the back of your throat when Tom pulled you into his arms and laid his lips on yours. You could practically feel yourself melting more and more into his embrace with every brush of his lips.

"I've missed you, goddess," he sighed into your skin. "Last night I went to bed alone and it felt so…empty." He continued to press tender kisses to your cheek, working his way up to your forehead. "So I hopped on the next flight here. To you. I just needed to see you again."

You could feel a lump at your throat from processing his words, the backs of your eyes prickling with tears from realizing that he felt the same way you did when you woke up this morning. "I know the feeling," you managed to choke out as he kissed his way back to your lips. "I uhh…I was just about to order dinner. If you're willing to wait about…an hour? You could uhm…join me? I mean if you don't already have--"

He kissed you again, cutting you off from rambling yourself into an embarrassing grave. He probably had prettier girls ask him out way better than you just did. "You've been exerting yourself all day, you should rest. How about I go and pick something up for us, and you just focus on unwinding and relaxing from the day you had?"

A warmth spread all over your body as he held you, nuzzling your noses together as he ran his fingers up and down the length of your spine. It had you feeling so content that every part of you wanted nothing more than to ignore the panic settling deep inside you that you were feeling too comfortable around him, something you swore to never be around any man ever since you vowed to stick to one so far undisputed belief in your life.

The most blissful moments have the most catastrophic ends.

And at this moment you felt a little too much of that bliss.

"I'd like that," you breathed out, unable to help the way your mouth stretched into a way too contented grin as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, touching his nose to yours again before he headed for the door.

"I'll be half an hour tops," he said softly, looking over you again with that all too soft gaze. "Do what you need to wrap up for the day and unwind. I'll call you when I'm nearly home--I mean, when I'm nearly here."

You couldn't speak through the lump in your throat, your heart doing backflips in your chest from his slip of the tongue. All you could do was give him a smile, waving him off. You couldn't even tell if your sentiment for him to be careful out there was audible enough to reach him.

Home. You didn't hear him wrong. He called your apartment home.

By the time you finished with your shower, the timer you set for 27 minutes was still a few minutes out from ringing, giving you just enough time to slather on some lotion and spritz on some perfume, considering that the flight along with the amount of cleaning you just did today had you feeling far from fresh. Even after the hot shower.

And also the fact that the embodiment of the phrase 'sex on legs' was on his way back to you with dinner.

By the time his name was flashing on your screen, you were already at your kitchen counter, sorting out your mail from the last few months, already writing your todo list for the next morning involving a trip to the bank to cash in some checks that came in. You had the naughty little thought of writing "Tom" as an item on that list, but ultimately decided against it.

"I'm not optimistic, let alone presumptuous," you grumbled, putting the pen away when you heard the doorbell ring again. What greeted you on the other side was Tom beaming at you with hands full of bags, already putting your naughtier thoughts front and center and on hyperdrive with how his muscles bulged under his sweater from the weight of them.

"Wasn't sure what drink you'd prefer," he said in an exhale as he put the bags down, taking out bottles as he listed them off to you. "So I got us a bit of a selection. Some sparkling water…some soda…and just in case…" He let out a bit of a chuckle before pulling out the last bottle, getting a giggle out of you as well the second you eyed the bold serif letters and the star on the gold label. "Champagne."

You started moving towards the cupboard where you stored your glasses when he crossed the distance between you two, placing his hands on your waist to stop you. "What're you--"

"I figured with the day you've had, you wouldn't want to do a single second of clean up so…" He darted over to the other side of the counter again, pulling out a small pack of paper cups. "I got these."

Oh dear fuck, he actually thought of everything, you internally swooned, indulging yourself in basking in another blissful moment that he'd somehow known to give you after being here for less than an hour.

"Also…" He reached into a bag that made a clinking sound when he set it down, pulling out a small vase that held three deep red carnations. "I got these for you. I know you're not one for those big garish arrangements, so I thought you might like these. They might go well in the living area, by your sofa, or also here--"

"They're perfect," you blurted out, not even bothering to hold back the smile that took over your face. You're perfect. I love you.

He stilled in his movements, looking at you with wide, shining, puppy-like eyes. "What did you say?" he breathed out, slowly starting to make his way to you.

Shit did I say that out loud?! "What? I didn't--I didn't say--" You couldn't breathe. Did you actually say those words out loud? Your knees felt weak. You clung to the countertop to stand upright, bracing yourself for the usual spiel.

You're a whole smoke show and all but I hope you didn't get the wrong idea. This was just for fun, where did that come from, sweet thing? I like you and all that, but I wanna keep this a bit more open, you know? We're young and I don't think I wanna tie myself down to just you.

Knowing Tom, he'd probably say something that stung less in the moment but when you actually took a second to let it sink in…the devastation would be on another level. He'd break you. And all you could do was brace for impact.

Once he'd crossed the distance between you two, he framed your face in his hands, those wide puppy-like eyes now seeing the sheer panic in yours, his expression betraying your expectations. He wasn't looking at you with a condescension and smugness that screamed of someone stroking his ego getting a girl to blurt out that cursed sentiment at a ridiculously early point in the relationship.

And saying it first, too.

But instead he looked at you with an increasing concern as your vision began to blur from the tears in your eyes. He pressed kisses up and down the side of your face, guiding you through your breathing so that you'd stop hyperventilating like the air was too thin to breathe in properly. "Oh, sweet goddess," he sighed against your skin, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "You weren't quite ready to say those words yet, were you?"

"I didn't say anything," you whimpered lamely, making him lean away to get a look at you, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes.

"Alright, it's alright," he said softly, pressing a kiss to your lips. "You're not quite ready to hear those words yet, either. That's alright." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace that deceptively felt too much like home, kissing the top of your head.

It took a good few moments before you could bring yourself to return his embrace, hearing a sound of relief from him when you finally did. "I'm sorry it's just--I'm not--"

"Shhh shhh, there's no need for apologies," he whispered into your hair. "I just want you to know something." He tucked his hand under your chin, tilting your head and kissing you again before continuing. "I want you to know how that I am already beyond happy that you share your time and your body with me, and I'll never take that for granted. And if the day ever comes that you wish to give me your heart, I want you to know that it will be safe with me. Because those words that you didn't say earlier? I feel the same way."

The violent fluttering in your stomach was back. "Tom, I--"

"When you're ready, and only when you're ready, I'll be here. I'll always be here." He pressed his forehead to yours, brushing his nose across yours. "We don't have to talk about it."

You eyed him with incredulity. How could you both just go on pretending that you didn't just stupidly blurt out those words? How could he be okay with that?

"Right now I am more than happy to simply spend the night having a lovely dinner with my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" you repeated, breathless. After the level of batshit that was the last few minutes, he wanted to keep this going?

"Only if you wish to be," he said in a rush, bewildering you when you saw a similar type of panic enter his eyes. "I'd--I'd be fine if you don't want to put a label yet I just…" He sighed, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before tightening his arms around you. "I didn't want what we started to end just because we stopped working together."

"I…" Your words caught in your throat, finding it near impossible to even form anything coherent while he continued to press kisses to your cheek and temple. "I haven't been anyone's girlfriend in so long," you said in a rush. "And the last time, it--it burned me."

That last time scarred you so badly you began to see the appeal of the 'eternal bachelorette' lifestyle. Because much as it was so tempting to get lost in the feeling of being pursued and courted, you knew the downfall when eventually they would grow complacent. When they started seeing you as something 'routine'.

When they want the thrill of the chase again, mixed in with the thrill of betrayal.

You barely had anything left in you to even attempt going into that adventure one more time. And yet you already knew that you were going to. For him.

Because you loved him. You even said it yourself with your a-plus timing that was so premature that teenage boys would be embarrassed for you.

"The last thing I would ever want is to hurt you," he whispered, his breath warming your face as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "All I want at this moment is to know that tomorrow morning I wake up holding you again."

You could hear how every single voice that gave you a reason to not take another chance on him fade away into a dull murmur in the back of your head. His eyes shone with all the barely-there restraint, as if he had more words ready. As if he was trying to stop himself from pleading his case to you.

One last shot, you could hear the tired voice in you give in. If this goes down the drain, I don't ever wanna try again. I won't have enough heart to break if he ever decides he's done with me.

"Girlfriend," you tested the word, his breath hitching when he heard you say it. "I kinda like the sound of that."

Getting used to a new timezone wasn't quite something that got easier with time, which was how Tom ended up waking earlier than intended, warm contentment washing over him once he felt you in his arms. He shuffled closer to you, stifling any sound that might come out of him when you met him halfway, your naked body pressing against his own and letting out a little contented sigh when skin met skin.

He still couldn't quite believe what happened last night, remembering the way his heart jumped in his chest when he heard the whispered words from you. It wasn't his imagination or his daydreams getting the better of him, you said them. I love you. And he wanted nothing more than anything to scoop you up into his arms and say the words back.

But the panic in your eyes once you realized what you'd said tore at him and stopped him from doing just about anything. There was a hurt that painted your face last night as if you were bracing for impact. Like you were just preparing yourself for incoming pain. And the realization that you weren't ready to say the words or maybe even hear them had him pushing the words back down his throat with every ounce of strength he had.

The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you. The second to last was to scare you off.

Until that day came he would cling to the little things, find ways to show you his affections if hearing them wasn't quite yet an option. For now he was more than happy knowing that your relationship was far from over; in fact, it was safe to say that it was just beginning.

He pressed his lips to your shoulder, kissing a trail up to your ear and smiling against your skin at the little whimpers and moans that escaped you with every kiss. "Good morning, goddess," he whispered, pressing a kiss below your ear when you stirred in his arms.

"Hmmph…mooring," you slurred, stirring in his arms, your voice still rather thick with sleep.

"I'm going to go out and see what I can get us for breakfast. Any special orders? Cravings?"

It took a few seconds before he could make complete sense of what you murmured, your words jumbled together. "French toast and bacon, please."

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, his heart skipping a beat when he felt your cheek rise in a smile against his lips. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll wake you when I'm home." There it was again. That slip of the tongue that had him grinning ear to ear whenever he said it.

Home. It wasn't a hotel room in a hotel room in Sydney. Or Atlanta. It wasn't his house back in London. Or his mum's.

It wasn't even here, in an apartment in Los Angeles.

It was you.

He could be camping out in the depths of the woods folding himself into a tent, but if he was sharing that tent with you, then he was home.

And if his realization already had his heart behaving erratically, your next words had it going on overdrive. "Okay, be careful. I love you."

He waved a hand in front of your face. No reaction. Your guards weren't fully up because you were barely even half-awake. He decided to go for it, hoping that somehow even through your sleep-laden mind, his message would reach you.

"I love you, too."

A/N: In hindsight, if I knew that this was gonna turn into a whole series/collection, I would've named it better 😂 Anyways, welcome to the first 'chapter' in the 'said it first' arc! We've seen these two blorbos in their happy in love era with the Soccer Aid Chronicles as well as their Kinktober shot, but we haven't ever really seen anything from them that resembled angst…Well that's because that era went down early on in their relationship. Like in the first few months early on, and it really stems from Reader and her baggage making it a whole ass journey to say "I love you" without wanting to curl up in a hole she buried for herself.

This arc will have 5 entries…at least that's what my notes said, but let's see where my writer brain takes us 😂

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

[wholoveseggs]

Indulgences

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Part Three

As your relationship with Elijah deepens, conflict arises and you are put in an impossible situation.

5.5k words - Warnings: smutttt, red door elijah {my interpretation of him}, drug use, adult themes, domestic abuse, violence, blood drinking.

Please be aware that this part is very violent. {Part One} {Part Two} {Part Four}{Moodboard->}

Elijah kept coming back, week after week, booking the platinum suite and requesting you. Every time you entered the suite and locked eyes with him your memories came flooding back in an instant. He would lay his head in your lap and tell you his heartaches while you stroked his dark hair. You learned how he was robbed of his life a thousand years ago, and how much guilt he carries in his heart. He would speak of his family with equal love and frustration, his world tipping further into turmoil with every passing day.

You admired his heart, his humanity, his fearlessness in facing his darkness. Sometimes, on rare occasions, his vulnerability would peek through and he would confide in you about his need for control and his fear of losing it. And sometimes, even more rarely, his heart would bleed for those he had killed and will kill. They were moments of weakness that he only let you see.

You began to care for him, truly care for him, past being his private dancer, past him being your cash cow. They were times when his perfect mask slipped just a little, showing a more fragile side of him, one you knew he had carefully crafted and honed to perfection. These moments revealed to you just how human he still was, despite having spent the past one thousand years as a vampire.

One night, as you gently traced your fingers through his dark hair while he rested his head on your lap, you softly asked, "Why did you choose me?”

Elijah, his gaze fixed on the opposite wall, murmured, "The way you looked at me... there was something about your eyes, they were so..."

"What?" you whispered, the intimate moment creating a tightness in your chest.

"Alive," he whispered back. "You looked at me as if you could see straight through my mask to the inner demon beyond and didn't care."

"I do see straight through you," you teased.

Elijah smirked, then averted his eyes. It was painfully evident to anyone who met him that beneath the facade of a perfect gentleman in tailored suits, a dark turmoil simmered within him, a side he struggled to keep subdued.

He sat up and ran his hands through his hair, as though trying to compose himself, and returned his gaze to yours.

"Do you like this job? Does it make you happy?" he asked curiously.

"Not happy, but it helps me survive." You replied honestly.

"If there was a way for you to never have to do this job again, would you take it?" Elijah asked seriously, studying you intently.

"It's complicated, this is my only way to earn money and stay afloat, I can't imagine life without it," you explained, a bit confused by his line of questions.

"If you had a choice," Elijah started, leaning in closer.

You sighed, borderline amused by how cliche he was being. It must have shown on your face because the side of Elijah's mouth twitched, and he continued.

"Would you want to leave with me, leave all of this, escape to a better place?" His question made your stomach lurch, and you sat up straighter, heart pounding. You weren't a fool; you had heard this offer from a few clients before. They all craved the fantasy of having a stripper for a girlfriend while playing the white knight, rescuing her from what they deemed a shameful profession. As you stared at Elijah for a long moment, sizing him up and searching his eyes, you realized he was different. Unlike the other men who made similar offers, Elijah possessed the power to fulfill his proposition—a considerable amount of power, so much that it left you feeling unsettled.

"I'd say take me to your kingdom," you jested, wearing a playful expression, not revealing any clear intention to go with him. 

He gave you a searching look and leaned towards you, hands on either side of your hips, pinning you to the couch. "Say the word, and we leave this instant," he murmured, a conspiratorial glint in his eyes.

"I'm not a fantasy, handsome. I'm a person with a life outside of this place, one you know nothing about," you remarked quietly.

"Then tell me," Elijah asked, the atmosphere around you intensifying, his gaze transforming into a look that pinned you down in more ways than one.

Running your fingers through your hair, you chewed the inside of your cheek, torn about whether revealing the truth would shift the power balance. The mysterious allure you carefully maintained gave you control over clients, resulting in higher tips. However, a part of you hesitated, not wanting Elijah to view you solely as a mystery. You longed for him to see the real you—a human with flaws and struggles like everyone else—rather than getting entangled in the fantasy of you.

"I'd rather not," you said firmly.

"Do you have terrible dark secrets?" He teased light heartedly, not daring to take his eyes away from yours.

"This," you said, gesturing around the room, "is not about me,"

You resisted this glimmer of hope, this tempting fantasy. Reality held you captive, you had troubles and responsibilities that hadn't magically disappeared just because Elijah walked in and requested to see you specifically.

"I disagree," he said gently, cupping your chin, turning your face to meet his. "It's very much about you. I would have never returned to this place if you weren't here,"

You blinked back the stinging feeling behind your eyes, and reached out and grabbed his tie, pulling him close so you were face to face.

"Exactly darling, it's all about you," you murmured, brushing your lips against his.

"That's not what I meant," Elijah whispered, but let you deepen the kiss regardless.

"Isn't it though?" you teased, sliding out from under him, standing up.

"This is where our night comes to an end, handsome," you announced, extending your hand out to him.

He grasped your outstretched hand, his dark brown eyes focused on you, and pulled you down until you were straddling him. You let out a soft gasp of surprise, your hands automatically resting on his chest.

"One more kiss," Elijah murmured, his voice muffled as he nuzzled your neck.

You gave a low laugh, tilting your head back, exposing your neck to him. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and even, sending a thrill through your whole body. You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensation of his touch.

His hands traveled up your thighs, until they reached your hips, his thumbs hooking under the straps of your g-string. The heat from his fingers caused a blush to rise on your cheeks and your heart to beat faster.

"May I touch you?" Elijah asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitched in your throat, your body tensing at the thought of him being intimate with you. This wasn't allowed, Mitch would fire you on the spot. No sleeping with clients. It was his number one rule. Mostly because the club would lose its license.

But you didn't care about any of that, all that mattered was Elijah. You wanted him to touch you, to bring you pleasure. You wanted him to take you away from the pain and sadness, if only for a little while. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head in consent.

Elijah's eyes darkened with lust, his hand sliding between your legs, fingers grazing your damp panties. You bit back a moan, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He continued his gentle teasing, his fingers rubbing circles against your clit, watching your responses.

"You are so lovely," he murmured, kissing your neck.

You whimpered softly, arching your back, pushing your breasts against his chest. You wanted more, needed more. You wanted him to make you forget everything except his touch.

He dipped two fingers into your aching core, a breathy moan escaping your lips. You clenched around him, your head swimming with desire. He moved his fingers in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly. He brought his thumb up and traced small circles against your clit. You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed, your climax swiftly approaching.

"That's it, beautiful," Elijah whispered, nipping at your ear.

You came undone, the tension in your body melting away, your hips bucking against his hand. You felt a sharp pain in your neck as he sunk his fangs into your skin. Your legs trembled as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, your breathing ragged, your skin slick with sweat. He continued to stroke you, his movements drawing out your orgasm until you were a trembling mess.

He let out a low groan, pulling his mouth away from your neck, blood smeared on his lips. His eyes were completely black, dark veins snaking down his cheeks.

You gently ran your fingertips over his cheeks, marveling at the creature that lurked beneath the mask of a gentleman. He was breathtakingly beautiful and terrifyingly deadly. Your touch was enough to calm him and his features returned to their human appearance.

He pulled his fingers from you and brought them to his mouth, licking away your arousal with a predatory growl.

You giggled and leaned in, brushing your lips against his. His hands rested on your hips, his grip tightening. He returned the kiss, a sweet yet heated one that took your breath away.

"We shouldn't have done that," you whispered, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Why not? Did you not enjoy yourself?" Elijah questioned, his eyes full of concern.

"No, no it's not that, I...I mean, we're not allowed to have sex with the clients," you confessed, embarrassed by your admission.

"Do you still see me as just a client?" He asked with a raised brow.

"No, but Mitch will. I'll lose my job." You mumbled, biting your bottom lip.

He ran his fingers through your hair and cupped your chin, his eyes boring into yours. "Then come with me," he murmured, his lips ghosting against yours.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his, taking a deep breath. You wanted to say yes, you really did, but the reality was still there. He kisses you again, gently biting on his lip, the taste of his blood making your skin tingle. You felt the sting of the bite mark on your neck fade, and you pulled back. His fingers traced the area where the wound was, his eyes slightly far away.

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Why?" You asked, your heart skipping a beat.

"I didn't ask for your permission," he explained, his jaw clenched.

You placed your palm on his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath your fingers, soothing the storm inside of him. "It's fine," you reassured him.

His expression softened and he smiled at you, the love and affection in his gaze filling you with warmth. You never had anyone look at you like that before and you found yourself wishing that the moment would never end, but reality set in.

"Time to go, darling." He said quietly, his breath fanning over your face. "You won't remember this until you see me again,"

You kissed him one last time and rose off his lap, swaying on your heels. You could feel his eyes on you as you stretched lazily, earning his appreciation.

"Have a good night, handsome." you murmured, teasingly blowing him a kiss as you strutted out the door.

You sat in the dressing room, looking down at the stack of hundreds on your lap. Once again confused on how you made that much. You couldn't remember a single detail of your time with the wealthy client in the platinum suite, it unnerved you. You wondered if the molly was strong enough to block out your memory and leave you totally empty.

"I hope your not fucking suit guy," Stacy remarked, walking by your chair, admiring herself in the mirror, a dark purple silk robe draped loosely around her body.

"I'm not." You assured her, shoving the hundred dollar bills back into your bag.

"You better not be, Mitch would fire you so fast, not to mention Jordan would be devastated," she remarked, a smirk on her face.

"I don't do that," you repeated, watching her change her attitude.

"There's an exception to every rule," Stacy remarked, pursing her red stained lips and applying another coat of lipstick.

"I'm not a cheater. Elijah is just a wealthy client who likes to talk, you know the type," you said with a shrug.

"Elijah," Stacy echoed, laughing. "You're on a first name basis with him? God, you might as well be fucking him," she taunted, raising her brows at you.

"Fuck off, Stacy," you snapped, glowering at her, refusing to let her get a rise out of you.

Jordan walked in, his usual friendly expression on his face, an extra spark in his eyes, and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. He pressed his lips to your cheek in greeting.

"How's my baby?" he asked cheerfully.

"Good," you mumbled, quickly moving your bag out of sight.

"Hiii Jordy," Stacy sang, batting her eyelashes at him.

He flashed her a quick grin before turning his attention back to you. You could feel the knot in your stomach slowly untying itself, he was in a good mood today.

"Let's go get dinner, I know this great bar near here," Jordan said eagerly, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks.

You gave a half hearted smile, nodding your head. You would rather go home to a quiet apartment but you knew better than to spoil his mood with your defiance.

"Sounds fun," you murmured, forcing a smile.

Jordan and you walked out of the club, his arm wrapped around your shoulder. He glanced down at you, his face still carrying a smile, but his eyes holding a warning.

"You okay baby?" He asked.

"Tired," you replied simply, hoping it would be enough to explain your earlier behavior. "Is it okay if we just go home?"

"No! It's Friday, and I need time with my girl," he practically whined, as he guided you to his car.

Your heart sank at the tone in his voice, knowing very well he wouldn't take no for an answer. It was a game he played to get you to do what he wanted and give him an excuse to fight later, usually for being stubborn or a stuck up bitch.

"My shift was so long," you mumbled.

He shoved you into the passengers seat, closing the door before you could reach the handle. He got into the drivers side and turned the key, a sly smirk on his face. He grabbed your wrist, squeezing it tightly, his nails biting into your skin, he leaned in, his lips next to your ear.

"Why is it so hard to please you baby?" he whispered, his tone seething.

You stared at him, keeping your face neutral, dread churning in your stomach. You could feel the bruises beginning to form on your wrist, his anger slowly rising. He squeezed even tighter and you winced, a strangled cry leaving your lips. He let go of your wrist and slipped his hand between your legs, inching his fingers to your mound, squeezing roughly.

"This belongs to me, baby. How many times do I have to remind you that you're mine?" Jordan sneered, tightening his hold on you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, tears burning behind your eyes, and looked away, trying to detach yourself from the situation.

"You're right, I'm sorry," you murmured, shrinking away from him.

"Damn straight," he said, releasing his grip on you and turning his attention to the road, "Dinner and drinks at Rousseaus, you’ll love it."

You gave a stiff nod, trying to ignore the fear and anger in your heart.

Rousseau's was more crowded than you expected, but you both managed to find a table. You sat and waited while Jordan got drinks.

Other men always looked at you, wherever you went, it always made you uncomfortable. Especially so when you were with Jordan, his jealousy could cause an explosion at any moment. You wished he hadn't insisted on coming to the bar tonight, there was a feeling in your gut that told you something was going to go wrong.

When he returned with the drinks his mood had dramatically shifted, his eyes darting around the room as he slid into his seat next to you.

You picked at your finger nails, chipping away at the paint, and scooted your chair a few inches away from his. You could feel his eyes on you, seething with jealousy, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

"Maybe we should go," you suggested, shooting him a wary look.

"We just got here and I ain't done drinking," he replied, placing his hand on your knee, caressing your skin with his fingertips.

"Okay," you said in a small voice, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze.

He brought his hand up to your face, lightly brushing the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. You could tell by the look in his eyes that something wasn't right.

"Stacy was telling me something very interesting about you," he whispered, his voice dripping with suspicion.

"Oh?" You asked, feigning innocence, heart beginning to race.

"Yeah," Jordan mused, gently tracing a pattern on your skin. "She told me how you kept having one on ones in the platinum suite. Absolutely raking in the tips. Does that sound like something you're familiar with?" His words were soft, but his voice was harsh.

Your stomach dropped at his question, realizing what he was getting at. You stared back at him blankly, trying to formulate a response. You thought about lying to him, you were a good liar, you did it everyday of your life. Jordan was visibly seething, but he wouldn't do anything to you in public, so you kept your guard up just in case.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, babe," you said in the sweetest, yet most patronizing tone, grabbing his hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly.

He narrowed his eyes at you and took another sip of his drink. Your stomach turned, you knew he wasn't finished, this was far from over.

"If I find out you're lying to me," he started, his voice menacing. "I'll kill you."

The color drained from your face, fear coursing through your veins. You wanted to bolt out the door, run for your life, anything to get away from him, but you didn't. You looked away from his terrifying eyes, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill.

That's when you saw him, sitting near the window, watching you intently. Elijah.

The reality of his existence hit you like a swift blow. He was a vampire. He had bared his heart and soul to you. Just hours ago, you had been in his embrace, experiencing pleasure as he fed off you. Then he would erase the memory from your mind, leaving you oblivious to what he truly was. He offered you a knowing smile, his dark eyes piercing into yours. Your cheeks flushed red as you looked away. Despite everything, a part of you yearned to run to him, to forget about the monster lurking beside you.

"Excuse me for a second," you whispered, letting go of Jordan’s hand and sliding your seat back.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Jordan snapped, his grip on your knee tightening, his fingers digging painfully into your skin.

"Just the bathroom," you muttered, struggling to keep your composure.

He gave you a steely look, before releasing your knee. You gathered your purse and rose to your feet and without glancing back at him, headed for the bathroom.

You felt Elijah's presence behind you when you got to the hallway. Fear churned inside you like a whirlpool, as you turned to face him, not completely sure what you would say to him.

"It's not a good time for a talk," you said in a low voice, opening the door to the ladies room, hoping Elijah would get the hint.

"You seem distressed," he said quietly, concern clear in his voice.

"Come in, you can't be out here with me," you whispered, tugging on his hand, pulling him into the bathroom.

You checked to make sure the coast was clear and locked the door, feeling Elijah's eyes following you.

"Is that your boyfriend?" He teased in a gentle tone, clasping his hands in front of him, subtly checking you out.

"Yes," you said softly, leaning against the counter, staring down at the floor.

"Is he why you won't run away with me?," Elijah asked, taking a tentative step towards you.

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, as he placed his hands on the counter, boxing you in between him and the sink.

"Among other things," you replied evasively, tilting your head up, your gaze resting on his.

"Name one of them," he purred, bringing his hand up to your hair, twirling a stray strand around his finger.

"You've messed with my memories, Elijah. When I'm not around you, I don't remember our time together; I’m frightened of you," you admitted, your body stiffening. "I blame it on the drugs I take, I get anxious about my mental health," you trailed off, feeling shame rising in your throat.  "But then I'm with you and..I feel calm, I feel safe, like you'd protect me. And, it scares me, this emotional whiplash is taking its toll,”

"I'm sorry for frightening you, that wasn't my intention," he said gently, his hands lifting to rest on your hips, gently lifting you onto the counter.

"Everything is... complicated, Elijah," you murmured, running your fingers through your hair, trying to muster an answer.

"I know," he murmured, leaning in and kissing your neck, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. “I won't compel you anymore, my dear, I trust you,”

You closed your eyes, inhaling his wonderful scent, it made your stomach flutter with butterflies. This didn't feel real, you hadn't felt this happy in so long, it was surreal.

Your hands went to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath your palms, and his lips met yours. The kiss was soft, affectionate, and full of meaning. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, never wanting to let go.

"You don't love him do you?," Elijah whispered in your ear, trailing his finger down your jaw.

"No," You breathed, shaking your head, grasping the lapels of his suit. "I couldn't, I try, I have for years, but I just can't,"

He hummed his agreement and kissed you with more passion than you'd experienced with any man before. You could feel his desire, his urgency, and you craved him. Your fingers buried themselves in his hair, letting out a soft gasp when his hands slipped under your dress, gently kneading your thighs.

"No, we can't, not with Jordan here," you rasped, reluctantly pushing his hands away. "Please don't. If he suspects something..." You whispered, trailing off, swallowing hard.

Elijah glanced down at your hands on his chest, his brow furrowing as he noticed your bruised and swollen wrist.

"You're hurt," he observed, examining the marks on your skin, his expression a strange mixture of anger and concern.

"It's fine," You reassured him, trying to pull away from his grip, "just forget about it. Really, I'm ok,"

"He hurt you," Elijah insisted, frowning.

"I had an attitude with him," You mumbled, yanking your arm back, and cradling your wrist in your lap, and nervously twisting the hem of your dress in your fingers.

"Y/n," he said softly. "This isn't the first time he's hurt you is it?"

You looked up at him through tear filled eyes, your mask of composure finally slipping.

"No," you said in a small voice.

"How long has he done this to you?" He asked in a low voice, cupping your face in his palms.

"Years," you choked, no longer able to hold in your emotions, tears trickling down your face. You felt such pure humiliation, embarrassment that Elijah had seen such weakness in you.

"I have to go," you stammered, rubbing your eyes and sniffling.

"You don't have to leave," Elijah insisted, bringing your face up to look at him. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

You froze at his question, wondering what kind of answer he wanted.

"It ruins the fantasy," you said with a dry laugh, trying to brush it off as some stupid joke.

Elijah furrowed his brow at you, looking shocked at your response.

"Do you think I judge you? See you as just a stripper?" He asked earnestly, all of his usual confidence dissipating.

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak, but not daring to lie to him, watching him through watery eyes.

"I told you about my life, my father, the torment he put my family through, how could I judge you?," Elijah asked, lowering his face to yours, our lips inches apart, his scent flooding your senses.

"I don't know," you whispered, keeping your gaze fixed on his, savoring his kindness.

"We'll get through this," Elijah whispered in your ear. "Together."

"I have to go," you whispered, before the weight of what he said could sink in.

"Walk out with me, you never have to be near him again," Elijah begged.

"No, please, it'll make everything worse," You pleaded, sliding off the counter. "Don't give me hope, I can't handle hope."

"Y/n," Elijah began, sounding exasperated.

"I'll see you at the club, okay? Goodbye." you said quietly, before he could protest anymore, leaving the bathroom.

Tears filled your eyes as you walked through the bar, taking slow deep breaths to calm yourself. Jordan was still sitting at the table, looking extremely impatient. You tried to ignore the unsettling feeling in your gut as you sat down. He swirled the liquid in his glass, his expression blank. 

"Took you long enough, what were you doing in there?" Jordan sneered, pinning you with his icy glare.

You could now remember everything about Elijah, how he made you feel, all those hours together in the platinum suite. Everything. And now here, looking at Jordan, your abuser, the man who took so much from you, was such a contrast that it was almost unbearable. You were revolted by his very presence.

"I just needed a moment to myself, you know? After what you said about killing me," You forced a tight smile, taking a sip of your cocktail, your throat had never been drier.

Jordan scoffed, his features darkening with annoyance. "Let's go, this bar fucking sucks," he snarled, slamming his empty glass down on the table, rose to his feet and swiped his keys off the table.

You took the last sip of your drink and reached into your purse, pulling out your wallet. You felt his hand rest on your arm, you were almost paralyzed with fear.

"What the fuck is that?" Jordan snarled, looking at the tips you earned from Elijah earlier.

You swallowed thickly, completely taken aback, you had no idea what to do.

"I... I got a bonus today," you said in a feeble tone.

Jordan stared down at the money, completely enraged. "Stacy was right wasn't she? You've been fucking that rich asshole," he whispered, his fist closing around your arm, dragging you to your feet.

He quickly guided you through the crowd and outside the bar, pulling you towards the nearby alley. Your mind reeled with panic, realizing what was happening. Your legs no longer functioned as he dragged you behind the building.

"Baby, let's go back inside, I don't understand what's going on," you pleaded, trying to regain composure.

"I asked you a question. Tell me," Jordan growled, his fingertips dug into your arm painfully.

"It was a bonus," you snapped.

His fist connected with your face in a sudden and violent burst of rage. The impact was so intense it dazed you, the air being knocked out of your lungs as you tried to keep your footing.

"I know you're fucking some gangster and keeping all the tips for yourself," he shouted, his hands wrapping around your throat, forcing you against the wall.

Your hands scrambled for his, trying to pry his fingers off, his grip squeezing tighter as the lack of air made your vision blur.

"I asked you nicely and you have the nerve to fucking lie to me? That just shows me that you don't love me at all," he yelled, rage boiling in his veins, his grip nearly crushing your windpipe.

"Please..." you whispered, through ragged gasps for breath.

"I've done nothing but take care of you since we met and this is how you repay me?" He shouted, his grip tightening even more, your entire body struggling to get oxygen, tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

You brought your knee up as hard as you could to his groin. Jordan groaned and doubled over, loosening his grip enough to allow you to wrench yourself free.

You began to run in the direction of the street, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. But he caught up, grabbing your hair and forcing you to the ground. You cried out in pain as he landed on top of you, his hands roaming all over your body as he held you down, squeezing every inch of skin he could grab.

"Shh, shh, don't scream baby, don't scream," he hushed you, slapping his hand over your mouth. "It's okay I forgive you."

"Get off of me!" You cried, as he frantically tugged on your dress. He didn't waste another second, gripping your jaw tightly, his fingers digging in painfully.

"You think I'd let you cheat on me and get away with it?" Jordan gritted out, his hands wrapping around your throat again, increasing the pressure. Your screams were only barely audible now, your vision starting to fade, everything slowly turning black. 

Suddenly there was no weight on your chest. You gasped for air, taking desperate shallow breaths, looking up at Elijah who was pinning Jordan to the wall by the throat. Elijah's eyes were completely black, gray veins stretched out under his eyes.

"Do you know what it feels like to be unable to breathe?" He growled, his grip tightening, Jordan's face turning a ghastly shade of blue. "The fear, the terror that overwhelms your body. To know that no matter how hard you fight, you're going to die?"

Jordan's eyes bulged in fear, his hands clutching at his throat, trying to get away.

"You were going to kill her, weren't you?" Elijah seethed, his voice trembling with rage.

"Please... I'm sorry," Jordan wheezed, his voice barely audible.

"She begged for mercy and you ignored her, why should I show you the same courtesy?" Elijah asked, in an eerily calm tone.

Jordan's eyes widened as he struggled against Elijah, desperately trying to loosen the vampire's grip.

"Cockroach," he snarled, his fingers curling tighter around his neck, lifting him up, Jordan's feet no longer touching the ground. "Be still."

"No... no," Jordan squealed pathetically, "what are you?"

Elijah pulled Jordan's face close to his, Jordan's limbs thrashing at his sides, trying to pry away the iron grip on his neck. Elijah gave him a sinister smile, his fangs gleaming in the dim light.

"Death," Elijah whispered, before swiftly snapping his neck.

The blood drained from your face, your head spinning, everything feeling as if it was happening in slow motion. His body fell to the ground with a heavy thud, an unnatural twist to his neck, Jordan's life no longer there.

You felt your heart stop, like someone had thrust a knife through your chest, you almost couldn't breathe. He was dead. Gone. A part of you was happy, euphoric even, he would never touch you again, hit you again, torture you any more. You never felt any pleasure when you were with him, the man was your prison, he had no redeeming qualities and yet, the scars still remained.

Elijah knelt in front of you, pulling off his suit jacket and draping it across your shoulders. Your hands were numb as they slipped through the holes, holding it shut in the front.

"We can't leave him like that," you whispered, staring at Jordan's body, slumped against the brick.

"I'll handle it," Elijah murmured. "Can you stand?"

You nodded, rising on unsteady feet, grateful when he wrapped his arms around you, supporting you as you stumbled. He picked you up bridal style and carried you to his car, quickly setting you down in the passenger seat.

"Do you wish for me to take you home?" Elijah asked gently, seeing that you'd retreated inside of yourself, staring into the distance.

"No." you said hoarsely, resting your head against the glass.

He didn't seem surprised, opening the door, slipping inside and starting the car. His hand rested on your knee, drawing lazy circles on the bare skin, the effect was soothing and you closed your eyes, taking slow steady breaths.

"My home it is, then.”

{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Four}{Moodboard->}

PS: There will be a part four -xo

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vervain3 ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡

[metalomagnetic]

I asked a question about your house elf lore a while back, are you still sitting on that one or did it not get to you? or maybe you don't want to answer it? sorry to bother you I just wanted to see if I should resend it or not

I'm sorry! I looked back through my inbox until I found your question.

Sometimes asks pile up and I lose track of them! I hope no one thinks I am ignoring them on purpose.

Now, with that out of the way, here is your initial question (I hope this is yours, at least):

I love the world building you did around house elves/goblins/the fey in "it runs" all the little tidbits that get dropped make me hungry for more. Can you possibly elucidate on the full story behind the fey vs wizard kind conflict? was the black family and astral magic actually instrumental in the war or is that just black propaganda? i'm not sure how reliable of a narrator a black family elf should be considered.

So, I picture the High Elves more like the elves from Lord of the Rings. As human societies started developing and advancing, the high elves diminished in numbers, losing forests and also they were very sensitive to materials humans started using, like iron and copper and such, that was slowly poisoning them.

I like to imagine they started fucking around with humans sometimes in ancient times. Muggles weren't too perceptive to what was going on, since the elves used magical trickery, but wizards took notice. At the time, wizards coexisted together with muggles in the Harry Potter universe.

There were attempts made to accommodate both species, treaties brokered and then broken, on both sides, until the first war started.

It ended with high casualties on all sides, and with no clear victor. New 'borders' were agreed upon, places for the elves to dwell into, where humans weren't allowed, and vice versa.

Of course, as centuries passed, and muggles especially developed more and more, their villages spreading into larger areas, their needs greater, cities being raised all around, things escalated again. It didn't help that most muggles either didn't believe in the existence of elves, either considered them plights/enemies sent by their gods. Muggles have shorter life spams, and shorter memory. Besides, education and written history wasn't easily available to muggles at large. Elves, on the other hand, have incredible life spans, and while wizards don't come close, they, too, live longer than muggles and they do 'see' magic, so wizards were always more aware of such things, as they are aware of werewolves and vampires etc.

In the second war, the Black family and other great wizarding families were already established powers around Europe, far more organised than their ancestors; by now wands were much more in use, which was a vast improvement from the past, allowing all magical people easier access to magic.

Because they had means of quick communication, unlike muggles, and because the elves were far lesser in numbers than they've been previously, the second Elvish war was mostly between wizards and elves, with very little muggle involvement.

The elves didn't think they could survive as a species in this new, polluted world, so this time there will be no end to the war.

They fought to extinction levels.

The Blacks and their use of astral magic were, indeed, a big part of the war ( in my backstory for this, it was a man named Helix Black the First that was in charge of the family back then). But other families were as instrumental as them. Many great houses perished in the war, and even the Blacks were decimated in numbers, losing nine direct family members, and many other distant relatives or in-laws.

As the war was drawing to a close, and wizards were emerging on the winning side, they started hunting down what remained of small clusters of elves still surviving in deep forests .

They found the elvish children, having been kept hidden during the war (elvish children age far slower than human ones).

Some wizards wanted them killed, to end this once and for all. Others weren't so keen on this plan. A great council was made to decide on their fates.

The side against the slaughter won, but everyone agreed it wasn't a good idea to just leave them be, risking another uprising in the future.

A witch of great power came up with the idea of cursing the elvish younglings, and forcing them into complete obedience. The curse affected the development of the elves, leaving them stunted, emotionally, mentally, and physically.

A Sacred Circle was made out of witches and wizards that gave their lives to power the curse. From England, twenty eight wizards and witches participated in the Circle, including a Black (And because of this, all the families that lost members to this curse, are now know as the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I know that's not what they are in canon, and it was simply a list made by one Mr. Nott, but this is just my head canon to give more depth and history to the wizarding world).

As the curse was cast (I like to imagine it took like two days of casting to manage such a feat of magic) some of the older elvish children managed to escape their makeshift prisons. They sought refuge underground. The curse still reached them, but because of their age (say around 30 years olds, which was still child by elven metrics) they managed to resist at least the compulsions and they remain hidden underground. Their bodies naturally adapted to the environment. They eventually became goblins.

The younger children that didn't escape, including a twelve year old Tessuth, were fully affected by the curse. They never grew properly, their bodies shifted, too, the dark magic wrecking havoc on them. They were then enslaved to wizards. There weren't that many children, but the Sacred Families that fought hardest in the war, and that sacrificed their own to cast the curse, had priority in picking. Helix Black demanded two elves. Tessuth, and her even younger sister (who will eventually become Kreacher's grandmother). People just thought he's a greedy dick for wanting two.

In reality, Helix had deep trauma from the war, had developed a begrudging respect for the elves in the years spent fighting them, but he had also lost his twin children in one battle. When he went to take one elf, he found Tessuth cradling her younger sister, and on an impulse, with his twins in mind, he didn't want to separate them, so he took them both.

Unlike many other houses that took their anger for the losses they suffered on the now newly made house elves, Helix never could put aside the tragedy of it all. He saw the extinction of elves as necessary, he never regretted it, it was wizards (in fact, all humans, not just wizards) or elves, and he served proudly in the war, but the horror of it all stayed with him, and he treated Tessuth and her sister more as prisoners of war than slaves.

He killed himself when his only surviving grandson, who was Tessuth's age, reached adulthood, leaving him in charge of the family.

Eventually, a century or two later, when goblins resurfaced, no one wanted another war. Concessions were made, goblins were allowed to live in the wizarding world, but it was never an easy peace, and that, too, led to many goblin rebellions.

In one of life's ironies, in the last goblin rebellion, the Head of House Black was another Helix.

By that time, however, house-elves had been completely brainwashed into hating goblins. The very old house elves like Tessuth and Kreacher's grandmother, were not only brainwashed, but held resentment for being abandoned by their fellow elven siblings, during the first war, that they escaped without them. The newer generations of elves, completely unaware of this history, simply hated goblins because their masters told them so. House elf magic was used heavily in goblin rebellions, to guard wizarding homes, because goblins and house-elves obviously share the same type of magic.

A true tragedy, and the story of the High Elves, regal, powerful, arrogant, that died off to make way for humans.

Some of the magic in the world died with them, which also affected wizards, turning them weaker. Wizards of today will never be as powerful as the wizards that lived in the time of the High Elves.

There will be short mentions about this in the fic, just a sentence or two, as we already had, but not very much. It is of no importance to Sirius and his journey, and we already know he doesn't care much about house- elves, even if he is fully aware of their history. He doesn't spend time thinking of this, he just barely learned to get along with Kreacher and he's a little scared of Tessuth, so there is no reason to have much of this mentioned.

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.239 thoughts

[The Greatest Ending Ever]

(Topics: thematic analysis - joy, character analysis - Andy/Fuuko/Union, narrative analysis - narrative utility, speculation - epilogue, appreciation)

Congratulations to everyone reading this review!

You did it! You pushed through all of the hard times in your life, everything that made you wish you weren't around, and lasted long enough to see the conclusion of one of the best stories ever told!

I'm so proud of you, and I hope to see you at the end of the next great story as well!

I rewrote this intro half a dozen times, trying desperately to find the right tone to set. I tried being somber, but that felt depressing. I tried being goofy, but that felt disrespectful. I tried being straightforward, but that felt detached

In the end, there was only one way that was ever going to feel right: I had to match the tone of the finale itself. I don't want to end this series feeling like we're at a funeral or in a lecture hall, I want to end it the same way Tozuka did: feeling like we're at a party!!!

Celebrate Good Times, C'mon!

This chapter is a celebration of the series, a wrap-party for the cast and setting, a curtain call to give the audience one last hurrah with everything we loved so much about the series!

We get a little "where-are-they-now" for all of the Negators, with everyone living out their dreams or putting their pasts behind them. Some of them are living large as professional athletes or business owners, some of them are more humble and bringing up the next generation, but everyone is clearly enjoying their life!

Seeing everyone living normally and happily, whether they're already successful or working their way up, is so rewarding. It's certainly a deheightening from the excitement of being superhumans and immortals, but knowing that people I love are no longer suffering and have become comfortable with themselves and their lives makes the tradeoff from being "cool" to "mundane" more than worth it

Besides, our main couple's lives are still anything but what I'd call mundane

Be the Change You Want to See

Andy and Fuuko's new lives create such perfect foils to where they started their respective stories

Where Fuuko started her story alone and locked away in isolation, dreaming of seeing the world, now she explores it without reservation with a lifelong friend by her side. She can go where she wants, she can wear what she wants, and she can touch who she wants

Andy, meanwhile, has always been traveling, but where before he did so aimlessly and alone, now he does so with purpose as part of a team (named Wind, after the "Fuu" in Fuuko). Instead of hoping to stumble upon his own end, he now seeks to create a better world, protecting people from injustices and giving them the means to improve their lives. No longer ignoring the needs of others for his own death, he now uses his life to provide others those very needs

Both now actively want to live their lives, and now, though currently apart from each other, are surrounded by people who love them, and are thematically the most important people they could be with. Fuuko travels with Gina, Fuuko's best friend standing as representation of the bonds forged along the way, while Andy travels with Rip and Nico, two of his greatest rivals representing the internal conflicts that have been resolved along the way

While other characters definitely got similar attention from the narrative, like Julia, Shen, Chikara, Feng and Sean, this group in particular really feels like the true core team. They were the most consistently present in the narrative, and even ended up being the ones focused on when removing The Heart from Fuuko (though Latla had to stand in for Rip for medical reasons), so I think it's safe to say this is how Tozuka views them at the very least

Of course, just because they're all so tight-knit doesn't mean that they can't misjudge each other at times. Their respective teams were aware of the upcoming wedding, and had faith that the newlyweds-to-be factored that into their planned tours, only to realize...

Both of them forgot

What a Shame the Poor Groom's Bride is Stupid

Fortunately, they know each other well enough that they know they aren't the only one to make that mistake, and decide to make a game out of it: whoever gets to the altar first gets to lord it over the other for the rest of their life!

This is a great moment of characterization for both of them, as not only are they comfortable enough with each other to spend so much time apart without worry, they also have absolute faith that the other, for all their faults, loves them with all their heart. Because they both messed up, neither of them can be called "the irresponsible one," while still allowing them both to be the same goofy and endearingly stupid couple they've always been

The fact that both of them make it to the altar at the exact same time, in the same spectacular fashion, establishes them as on perfectly equal footing in the relationship (despite the fact that they were both trying to make a powerplay out of their mutual screwup)

I can see how some people might dislike the choice to have them both forget the wedding, though. Where to me it reads as comfort and faith in each other, others may read it as flippant disregard for an extremely important moment in their lives together and for the sheer amount of time that they're wasting for their friends. Some folks have even suggested that this means they're going to be bad parents, which...is possible, but I just can't get behind that thought. I think they'll be odd parents, but not absentees a la Naruto or Yoh

No, I don't think this ridiculous turn of events was meant to establish that they'll be a forgetful couple or anything negative like that, I think it was yet another masterful example of Tozuka's greatest skill as a writer: narrative utility

4D Chessmaster

First of all, the panel where they realize they both forgot the wedding is, without exaggeration, the funniest panel in the whole manga to me. It's great comedy while also injecting highly personal if low-threat stakes into the final chapter

Secondly, it presented an opportunity to work Billy and Tatiana in as active members of this final story without simply having them mingle in the crowd at the wedding itself. Having the two of them specifically fill the same roles in parallel lets them act as a duo (even when separated, like Andy and Fuuko) while also reinforcing the visual of Fuuko being surrounded by her best friends and Andy reconciling with his greatest enemies

Finally, it facilitated the most important straggler making an appearance at the wedding. No, not Sean or Feng being late, they could easily have just been written to be on time in the first place, someone more thematically important and absolutely vital to painting an iconic vignette to end the series on:

Luna

The full moon is, without doubt, the most important recurring visual motif in the series, so there was absolutely no way that Tozuka was going to let Andy and Fuuko get married without it adorning the sky

It would have been easy to just write their wedding happening at night, but again, we needed to get a glimpse at everyone's lives and some much-needed levity after the rollercoaster of the final Ragnarok. Setting the wedding during the day, under the Sun that oppressed humanity for eons, only to have their ridiculous antics and disregard for tradition stall long enough for the Moon that gave them the means to fight that oppression to come out creates a wonderful microcosm for the series as a whole

The visual of Andy and Fuuko riding off into the moonlight, now surrounded by stars rather than alone in an empty, rather than the more traditional sunset is a symbol of their liberation, their freedom to live their lives as they please for as long as they please with whomever they please

It also serves to fulfill Luna's ultimate goal: to see the value of the Rules that was previously unknown to her. Yes, the Union showed her the power of love when overcoming Sun, but that wasn't the end, it was just the beginning. That moment is what paved the way for the Negators and all of humanity to make of the world and its Rules what they need to live The Greatest Life Ever

This is also why I'm happy to admit that, appropriately as usual, I was wrong in my prediction: Undead Unluck did not, in fact, end with Andy's death

Life After Love

I've said since chapter 1 that the point of Undead Unluck was to teach Andy that life was worth living, and that The Greatest Death Ever would be one that follows a life well-lived. I always figured that we would get to actually see the literal death, but looking at it now, I think that this was the better choice as a final note to leave the series on

As I said in the intro, this chapter is a celebration, not a funeral. In much the same way that Oda has difficulty killing characters in One Piece because it would put a damper on the party that follows a huge battle, Tozuka may have wanted to avoid a bittersweet ending because it would be harder to push the theme of enjoying life while in mourning

Not that it would have been impossible, and it certainly would have been impactful to force us as the audience to wrestle with that dichotomy, but a complex ending is not necessarily the best ending. We aren't stupid, we can infer that Andy and Fuuko will one day die, and that when they do, all of the people they love will still be a part of their lives to see them off and remember them

But knowing that they'll die is completely different from seeing them die. Showing us the death in person would be asking us to grieve, to accept, and to move on, but the acceptance of death has never been one of Undead Unluck's core themes, at least not directly. Instead, accepting death was more of a subtheme to the greater theme of embracing life, and that is what the final page is really asking us to do

This is the story of Andy, Fuuko Izumo, and everyone living in this world, and their quest for The Greatest Death Ever

We aren't shown The Greatest Death Ever because that death isn't actually for Andy and Fuuko: it's for us

It's for us to interpret what that death would entail, for us to enjoy our lives, and for us to complete the quest

Andy and Fuuko gave us an example, but they didn't tell us what to do. They didn't give us a cheat code, there's no way to speedrun it, we just have to take the long way and have fun figuring out how to play the game all the while. At best, Tozuka (and Akira, in-series) gave us a strategy guide to get us started, but much like the Union didn't change the Rules of the world and instead wants to empower people to better themselves, only we can decide what Our Greatest Life and Death will be

Of course, this is all assuming that this is actually the final note Tozuka is leaving us on

What Comes Next

It just wouldn't be a 4Y1A Review without some speculation, now would it?

For the last several months, I've been saying that UU would end on ch.241 in order to give the final volume the usual nine chapters (which would also have given it the 5-year anniversary Jump cover, but whatever...), but ending on ch.239 means that there would be a bit less content than usual

It's not unheard of for a final volume to be a little shorter than usual, but it's also very common for final volumes to include one or both of two options: a bonus chapter and the pilot chapter

Given that Undead + Unluck is an actual plot point, there is a very good chance that it'll be included in the final volume, and I would definitely be excited to see an official translation of it. Moreso than that, though, I'd really like just one more chapter to tie up some loose ends

The way I see it, there are three possible routes for a bonus chapter to go:

Andy's death

Ruin and Soul's life in the final world

A full exploration of Sun and Luna's backstory

The first, as I said, would likely be bittersweet, but would at least fulfill the narrative promise of Andy's dream while also giving us a nice opportunity for a little bit more AnFuu content. A lot of folks were upset that we didn't see Andy and Fuuko kiss at their wedding, and there wasn't even any discussion about how Fuuko can touch people without fear anymore, so an epilogue detailing their later years and their family life would be welcomed

On the other hand, covering Ruin and Soul would give us a look into how well the world is living up to Fuuko's vision and would give Ruin his much-needed capstone since he didn't get one during Ragnarok. How is he holding up without Blood and Shadow? What does his happiness look like? What kind of relationship does he have with Soul? I would hate to think that these two are the only ones Tozuka doesn't care to give a happy ending to

Finally, the least likely but possibly the most interesting, getting more details on Sun and Luna would just be a fun way to revisit Tozuka's world-building one last time. The world that they come from is the biggest remaining mystery, and I still don't fully understand what Luna's real goal actually was, so I think getting a little more perspective on it would be helpful, even if it still ends up being somewhat vague

However, Tozuka might want to leave it vague. It doesn't matter to the cast, it doesn't inform anything about their lives, so why does it matter that there's a greater cosmology that they'll never interact with? Furthermore, leaving a dangling thread like that means that we still have something to wonder about, a little knot for the curious to spend the next few years trying to untangle in our minds just for fun. Tying up every single detail in a neat little bow is satisfying, but satisfaction doesn't leave any room to play around in the space, so that may have been Tozuka's last little gift to us for the sake of enrichment

Volume 27 won't be out until April it looks like, so we'll have to wait a bit longer to know for sure what route Tozuka will take if he does any of these at all. Heck, theoretically he could do all three if he has 50 pages to work with, but I'm definitely not putting my money on that horse (bluffing specifically so I'll be wrong)

There is one thing I do know for sure though: this is not my last review for Undead Unluck!

Not only do we have the Winter Special coming up (eventually...), we also will be receiving a third light novel! I'm absolutely going to review both of those when the time comes, so whether or not we get an epilogue chapter, you will be hearing from me again!

Until then, it has been an incredible honor to have you all read these reviews, respond to them, riff on them, and most importantly, enjoy them. This has been one of the best fandom experiences I've ever had, and that's thanks to all of you

Thank you all for making my favorite manga something bigger than I ever dreamed it would become

Thank you all for reading my work and giving me reason to dive deeper than I might have all alone

Thank you all for being my friends

Now

Let's enjoy life