#and there's a little bit of my own family mythos.

[crash-and-cure]

Wait for Me (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: Tupelo’s favorite son is on his way home to all the expected pomp and circumstance befitting a returning King.

A/N: This is very much inspired by Hadestown and I may or may not blend all the character together so that both Elvis and reader have aspects from all of them. Technically I’m cheating I will admit by combining these two (-, -) requests into one story but I thought it would work well. Not me trying to Posit how WW2 affected the floriculture industry all for a fanfic. But this is apparently how I marry my two hyperfixations of 2022: Hadestown and Elvis. A+ to anyone that can find all the references to both Hadestown and the greek mythos in the story. 

Warnings: Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of obsessive, manipulative, and delusional behavior. Kidnapping. Kinda of a stochholme syndrome going on through the later half. Blood and a bit of child abuse depicted (arguably this child deserved it). Emotional Manipulation throughout. Isolation. Touch-starved reader. Innocent reader. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes Penetrative sex (m/f), oral sex (f. and m. recieving), vaginal fingering and handjobs. Outsider POV for the first bit.  Probably more that I am blanking on. Excessive use of “Honeybee” and “Rosebud” as a nickname for the reader. Please do not interact if you are under 18. 

Word Count: 21k (seriously somebody stop me)

My Masterlist

Dreams are sweet, Until they’re not

Men are kind, Until they aren’t

Flowers bloom, Until they rot, And fall apart

                 Flowers, Hadestown

Demi has never feared a single man in her life. 

Men have done her wrong. Men have humiliated her. Men have even hurt her. But she does not fear them. 

That’s how she lived for years, drifting from place to place, belonging to no one as no one belonged to her, unattached and untethered as the wind. Working odd jobs to get by until the next town, but there was a perpetual emptiness in this existence of hers that left her feeling hollow. 

And then her sweet little daughter was born and she found something that bound her to this world fully. She knew who the father was, but none of that mattered to her, because her daughter was no man’s, she was hers. He wasn’t good for much, but getting roughly ten acres of land in exchange for never having to deal with either him or his wife again was one of the sweetest deals she had ever heard. 

Living on a farm was never where she pictured herself ending up, let alone working and later inheriting a farm that only grew flowers, but Gail, the old caretaker of the land, was a literal godsend in those early days. Gail had that same look in her eyes as someone else who had been wronged by a man, and this kindred spirit would end up more or less adopting Demi as her own.

Her daughter is by far the most beautiful thing to have ever existed, born the first day of spring all balled up fists and shrill cries complete with a scrunched up face.

She was perfect.

Demi made a promise to that tiny creature that night, to never know hunger, to be surrounded by only the most beautiful things the world has to offer, to never be unloved for as long as she should live, and most importantly to never let the world hurt her the same way she was hurt. All of these rather lofty promises to make, but she was determined to keep them.

Those early days were painfully idyllic, caring for flowers, selling the cuttings, all the while her daughter was strapped to her chest. It admittedly did a number on her back, but it was all worth it to remind her what she works for. She doesn’t think there will ever be a day in which she forgets the first time her daughter's tiny hands reached out for a white rose, and just the utter serenity that overcame her in that moment. There is no doubt in her mind that this is where the both of them were meant to be.

As the years passed their little family grew as Demi collected other wayward women, some came and went, others stuck around so long her daughter started calling them her Aunties. Even a war happened a world away, and the farm had to shift focus to making food rather than beauty, but now three years later everything is close to being just as perfect as it was before. 

But if there is one saying she wholeheartedly believes, it is that woman plans and man laughs. 

Her daughter had been so upset that day and had ended up exhausting herself in Demi’s bed and she thanked whatever force up above for that when she woke in the middle of the night to the sound of rustling in her daughters room. Making sure that her daughter was still asleep she crept silently down the hall, baseball bat in hand, prepared to defend her family from whoever the hell was in her home. 

Evidently nothing could have prepared her for what she would find in there, as she walked into her daughter's room and was met with the cornflower blue gaze of a familiar waifish thirteen year old boy. 

When he had first started coming around, he was more like a stray cat whom her daughter fed once; annoyingly underfoot but manageable enough with a hose. But the more time he spent the more worried she became. 

All of which the day before when she had idly asked her daughter what she did with the boy that day only for her sweet little daughter to innocently respond, “he told me not to tell you.”

Her friends tried to tell her it was puppy love and that it would eventually pass, and just to give it some time to fade. How intervening may just make it worse. But something in her gut told her that there was something about the way he looked at her daughter, the way he spoke to and about her, the way he acted, and that something was that it was all very wrong. If she had to liken it to anything, she imagines that this is the same way a hunter looks upon his mark.

It was beyond anything she’s ever seen in a grown man's eyes, so she never thought she could see something like that in a child's eyes. 

Her daughter remained innocent to it, and slowly but surely Demi was trying to edge that boy out of their lives. Sent him home earlier and earlier, kept her from the shop and in the fields, even began to go out of her way to pick up her daughter rather than chance it with walking home by herself. 

But now looking at the boy as he eagerly ransacked her daughter's dresser, did she realize she should have better listened to her instinct. 

‘Oh hi Miss Demi,” he would say, as though he just wasn’t caught rifling through her daughters drawers. He was clutching tightly to a truly pathetic and haphazardly put together bouquet of flowers, that seemed to be dripping something from the stems. “Do you know where Y/N is? I just wanted to give these to her.” 

It was only as she turned on the lights did she see the true horror to be had. Candy apple red, as though it could ever be that innocent, blood was dripping between his fingers and onto the wooden floors below, his face giving no indication that he even noticed, his eyes continually darting behind her as though waiting for someone from behind. The flowers in the chaotic bouquet tell a story of all kinds of love, but the one errant, still-thorned rose tells the story not of love, but of something else… something dark and unspeakable. 

Demi acts immediately, grabbing him by the wrist and by the ear and getting him the hell out of her house. For all his protests and attempts to escape her grip, he was no match for the fury of a mother, and with the ruckus the boy is stirring up she silently thanks god that her daughter is such a deep sleeper. 

It hurts her having to leave her daughter home alone, but she knows that her daughter's biggest threat is in her grasp.

She’s had to drop the boy off enough times to remember where he lived and she knows his mother well enough to instinctively know she is no doubt up worrying over him. She was proven right seeing the light bleeding through the front windows of the small home. 

He is out of the truck before Demi can even fully park it, and he bolts to the door, probably hoping that she will then be forced to leave without talking to his mother about this whole thing. But he is stopped as said woman flies out of the house and catches him in a massive bear hug on the small porch. 

He has parents who care for him so much, yet he still acts like this? She wonders to herself. She sees the woman giving her son once over before coming across his wounded hand that had by now begun to congeal and stop bleeding. 

“If you know what’s good for him, you’ll make sure he stays the hell away from my property and I best never see you sniffin’ around my child again, boy,” Demi would say, voice ice cold interrupting this warm reunion, pointing a single finger in this boy's face. 

“Demi, what’re you talkin’ ‘bout?” his mother would ask, already putting him behind her back, willing to defend him with her life apparently. 

Wouldn’t you do the same, a small part of her says. 

“Y’know I expected more from you,” Demi said to her fellow mother. “I never would’ve expected you to be the type to raise a boy that would break into a little girls room and go through her drawers. The hell were you even tryin’ to find in there?”

He wouldn’t answer her, but he would look her dead in the eye, with a look that told her he was unrepentant about his actions. Though that mask would crack the slightest bit as his mother took his face in her hands. 

“Bewbie… is this true?” the woman would ask her son slowly, unwilling to believe. But his downturned eyes do all the necessary talking. 

“Mama she’s crazy,” that little shit would say, trying to deflect, and cowering behind his mothers skirts. “We can’t leave Honeybee with her.”

“I oughta knock all your fuckin’ teeth out for whatchu did. See how good a singer you are then,” she threatens, though that hardly helps her case. But she was willing to do a lot worse if it meant keeping her daughter safe.

“Don’tcha see Mama?” he says, gesturing a hand her way. “She ain’t safe with Miss Demi, and we gotta take her with us.” It’s not so much his words that are disturbing, but the complete and utter conviction that he speaks nothing but the truth that has the hair on the back of Demi’s neck stand up.

That boy’s lucky that his father decided to make his way out there and prevent Demi from making good on her threat. 

“Buntyn, go inside,” she would firmly say to her son. He looks as though he were about to protest, until she shoots a look and he backs down, and walks back into his home. His mother takes a moment to process her words, though nothing she says has a chance in hell of quelling the fury in Demi’s heart. “I-I think he’s just actin’ out because we’re gonna to be movin’ soon,” she tries to weakly justify. 

“I don’t fuckin’ care what his excuses are, Gladys. Keep a leash on that boy o’ yours if you gotta,” Demi seethes, catching said boy looking out at them from the window. She makes eye contact with him, fully knowing he would hear this next part, “Because I ain’t goin’ to be so nice next time.”

Demi turned around with that threat still hanging in the air and hoped to never see any of them again. It’s a long quiet drive from there, and her fury reaches a near boiling point finding that damned bouquet on the floor, forgotten in all the ruckus, to which she quickly chucks them into the furnace. It feels wrong to burn her own livelihood, but these flowers were now in her eyes tainted and unfit to ever be seen again. 

The fury doesn’t fully melt away until she sees the love of her life sitting up from her bed.

“Mama where’d ya go?” you would ask, your tiny fists rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you let out an almost angelic yawn. You are and always will be her baby, and nothing will ever take you away from her. 

“Just a stray dog sniffin’ round the house, Rosebud,” Demi would say, lightly scratching her nails down your back, the same way she’s done since you were a newborn. “But don’tchu worry baby, your mama scared it off. Go back to sleep.”

Demi sleeps well that night if only due to the fact that she was able to convince herself (albeit temporarily) that that had all been a bad dream. But once she saw the trail of crimson starting from your bedroom window, there is no denying what had happened the night before. She didn’t get this far by trusting other people's words, so for the next few days the two of you slept in a different room each night. Demi calls it camping and you, her sweet little girl, are all too willing to believe her. She sleeps with one eye open those nights, all too afraid that even dropping her watch for half a second will lead to disaster. 

She would find no peace until she heard around town that they had moved somewhere up north. To where? She didn't care so long as he was as far away from her precious Rosebud as could be. Still she is always worried as to the day he may come back, so she can only pray that he’s moved on to another poor girl and leaves you the hell alone.

Part of her wonders if she should warn you in case he ever returns, but this question answers itself when you come home from school wanting to show her how many ladybugs you caught in the schoolyard today. She didn’t want to burden you with this awful knowledge, wanting to keep you innocent from your mothers woes.

Demi wanted to shield you from the world, and hoped that one day, you would also get to live without fearing men. It would take her nine years to realize, by then far too late, that you only lacked fear because you didn’t know what men were capable of. 

Demi fears no man.

But she does fear Elvis Presley.

—------------------------------------

Flowers have always been the family business. Fields upon fields of every color in the rainbow going on for acres. Truly even having lived here for years and knowing little to nothing else but this, it still never fails to take your breath away. 

To say your family knows flowers, is an understatement. You had spent your days running around the property asking your aunties about the flowers they tended to, and what each of them meant. 

You learned from an early age that flowers were always meant to invoke good feelings in people, and it makes you proud that you’re a part of it. So you’re excited to say the least when your Mama surprises you with your very own gardening kit for Christmas.

It’s a rite of passage for those in your family to successfully grow and maintain their own plot of flowers for the first time. You had been given the choice of any flower you wanted to take on, most of them pointing to some of these easiest ones for your first time, the ones that you need only plant and water regularly to eventually bloom. You on the other hand wanted to do something harder. So you chose roses due to both the challenge it takes into growing and maintaining them but also the fact that your farm had them in abundance, so it wouldn’t hit the business too hard if you failed. 

But moreover, Mama had always called you her little Rosebud, so it only felt fitting to have these be the first flowers you grow all on your own. These blooms were rather picky about conditions, but you had been watching the women in your family grow them since before you could walk, and so you felt you were up to the task. You were only nine but you wanted to show the rest of them how good you could do on your own. 

So you watched the seeds germinate, watched them grow into tiny sprouts in their small pots, planted them neatly apart, gave them plenty of sun, and never forgot to water them. Mama even caught you once or twice hovering over those little pots not wanting to miss a single moment of their growth.

She warned you to temper your expectations, how sometimes you can do everything right, and they still may not grow. But you were full of hope and wanted this more than you have ever wanted anything in your few years of life. 

You had taken this seriously, hanging on to every tip you got from your Aunties, being sure to tend to them at the correct times, giving the correct amount of water and watching like a hawk for any unwanted pests. Each day you got the pleasure of watching them grow into buds and you figured they were close to blooming any day.

And that’s why you took great offense when you found a gangly tow-headed boy picking at the red roses you had worked so hard to grow. 

He looked to be older than you by a few years, stood a foot taller than you, but you knew boys like him, the type that would stomp out dandelions to make you cry and you weren’t about to let him ruin your hard work with your first batch of rose bushes. You may be 9 but you’re scrappy as all get out, which you prove when you drop your basket of fresh cuttings of the day and all but tackle the larger boy into the dirt.

He gives an undignified shriek as he hits the ground, having been caught off guard, but he does attempt to shove you off until he goes a bit limp upon getting a good look at you. The brief scuffle ends with you straddling him and your little palms pinning his arms down as best as you could as owlish, cornflower blue eyes stared up at you in equal amounts of awe and fear. 

“What’re you doin’ here?” you say your little voice indignant at what you thought were his attempts to sabotage your efforts. “Why were tryin’ to kill those roses?”

“I-I-I wa-wasn’t,” he insists, his cheeks burning from the shame of being caught doing whatever he was doing and his hands shaking something fierce as he limply tries to hide his face from you as you clench a tiny fist above you. You see that the briars got him good and little droplets of blood were beading up on some fine scratches on his hands. 

If he was trying to wreck the bushes you doubt he would try to do so in such a stupid way, but that didn’t mean you trusted him quite yet. However you weren’t about to let him continue being hurt in your presence, so you stood up and grabbed the band-aids that were in your little kit, and helped clean him up.

“I-It-ts m-my mama’s birthday to-tomorrow, an-and I wanted to get her so-somethin’ nice this year,” he said after a while, solemnly looking at his bandaged hand. 

You softened at his words, not having expected his answer, but you can hardly fault him for his reasoning. Afterall you don’t know where you or your mama would be if there weren’t thoughtful people that gave flowers to those they loved. 

But you do know how much work it takes to grow them, and maintaining your irritation at his mucking about, you indignantly say “You coulda went to our shop and bought them.”

He goes an even deeper shade of red with your statement, “I-I know it’s wrong to steal, an-and I never woulda done this i-if I had the money to buy ‘em.” 

It feels like all of the animosity you have towards him leaves your body at that moment. You and Mama have had your hard times before, and you are very much aware that each flower in your family’s field is worth something. It’s what keeps everyone fed, what keeps the lights on, and puts the clothes on your backs, but even knowing that you have one simple belief; everyone deserves nice flowers.

“Well,” you say to him as you stand up. “You picked the wrong color. You ain’t supposed to give red roses to your mama.” 

“Really?”

“If you know anything about the language of flowers, you’d know that you’re only supposed to give ‘em to your wife or girlfriend.”

“...Flowers talk to each other?” 

“No, they…” you pause trying to figure out a way to best explain yourself. “Their colors and the types are supposed to tell people how you feel about ‘em.” He draws his brows together, thoroughly confused as to what you’re saying, though that ain’t surprising. Mama often complained that when Men buy flowers, they never think too much beyond price, and boys rarely if ever appreciate them. 

You decide that it may do him better, to see it rather than trying to explain it fully. So you take his bandaged hand and you walk him through some of the crops. From the outside, the fields look to be a chaotic mess of colors, when in reality there is a lot more thought put into it as your mother organizes by type rather than color. You are able to give him a run down as to rose color meanings, until you finally arrive at your intended destination.

He goes a little wide-eyed once you take out your gardening shears, but quickly relaxes once you go behind him to the bushel of pink roses. You’ve been cutting and dethorning roses for about a year or two now, so it takes not even a minute to find one in good condition, grab it, cut it, proceed to have it stripped of all its thorns, and casually present it to the blonde boy before you. 

You thought he was red before, but as you presented him that rose, he turned redder than the rose he had attempted to pluck. His bandaged hand shakily takes the flower out of your hand, and with a reverence you’ve never seen from a boy when it comes to flowers, he holds it gently with both. 

“Pink means gratitude and admiration.”

“What?” his lip still quivering slightly and eyes glassy.

“When you give someone a pink rose,” you explain to him, with a smile. “You’re letting them know that you’re grateful for all they’ve done for you and that you admire them very much for it. It’s the perfect flower to give to your Mama,” you say, giving him a small smile, the look he’s giving you making you feel warm inside.

“Rosebud?” you hear from behind you, and all the warm feelings seem to die in that instant.

“H-hi mama,” you say nervously, whipping around, standing on your toes, as though you’ll somehow be able to hide this trespasser's taller frame behind you. Though you realize how stupid that idea is and quickly take her hand, “Mama come look at my roses, I think they’re gonna bloom today,” you say, trying desperately to turn her around as though she’ll forget she ever saw that boy. 

“In a minute Rosebud,” she said, her voice saccharine sweet, that you know by now means she’s mad. “But first, why don’tcha introduce me to your little friend here.”

“...yes Mama, this is… my friend…,” you go wide-eyed realizing you don’t even know this boy's name. 

Luckily he picks up on your pause, “Hello, ma-ma’am, my name is uuhh… Elvis… Presley.” 

Your mama slowly leans forward until she’s eye level with him, “Well, Elvis Presley,” she drawls slowly, her words friendly, yet the way they’re delivered tells you her feelings for this boy are anything but. “You mind tellin’ me why the hell you’re on my property, botherin’ my daughter, and plucking out my livelihood?”

Elvis looks down realizing that he was still holding the pink rose for all to see, and makes a futile attempt to hide it, only for his skinny wrist to be caught in your mothers iron like grip. 

Mama had that way about her, her smile could be warm but her words icy. You’ve seen her like this with the few men that had come through here. Some trying to buy the land, some trying to find one of your Aunties, all of them leaving empty-handed because of her.

But you don’t believe that the boy before you, the one that wanted to get his mama something nice for her birthday, could ever be like those bad men. So you decided to do what needs to be done, “I invited him over Mama,” you say looking down at your muddy boots.

“Rosebud you ain’t gotta lie for him,” she admonishes, though she does seem to loosen her grip on him.  

“Bu-but it’s the truth Mama. He’s been sayin’ how he needs a gift for his mama’s birthday, so I said he could come over here to get her a flower,” you mumble, knowing that this is something she always told you never to do. 

She takes a long hard sigh before she fully releases Elvis, “You best get yourself home before it gets dark.” she says, her warning punctuated with a very cold breeze, despite it being well into April. He swallows nervously as he makes his way to the road, giving one last sorrowful glance your way before leaving. 

“Rosebud,” your mama sighs, giving you a kiss on the forehead. “Sometimes you’re too sweet for your own good, and I don’t ever want to see someone take advantage of that.” 

“Ok Mama.”

When he left that day you fully expected to never see him again, until he showed up the very next day wanting to show you his guitar. 

After that, Elvis becomes a near constant presence at your farm. Your aunties thought he was nice enough, pinching his cheeks and plying him with snacks in exchange for having him sing for them. You don’t mind too much, as you don’t really have too many friends, and next to none that want to spend their evenings on your farm. You kind of enjoyed having him around, he would sometimes bring a guitar and sing to you, or read his comics to you. Other times he would follow you around as you did your chores and ask about the flowers.

You got used to him being around and even grew to enjoy it. One special day you even decided to share your most valued treasure with him: your favorite fruit in the whole world. One so good yet so expensive and rare in these parts that it’s limited to a once a year treat for you. 

“An onion?” he asks skeptically.

“No,” you insist, slightly huffy that he’s not appreciating your most prized possession. “It’s called a Pomegranate,” you tell him, taking it out of his hands so that you could cut into it the way your Mama showed you. “I know when you first look at it, it doesn't look like much,” you say, as you cut at the crown. “But when you really look at it, you’ll find something truly amazing,” you conclude, and with a twist of your wrist you take the top off to reveal an abundance of the small jewel looking seeds, where you see him looking at it in nothing less than utter amazement. 

That look in his eyes only grows when he actually tastes the little kernels for the first time, and he ravenously devours his half of the fruit, some of the juices overflowing out the corners of his mouth, and down his face.

You on the other hand savor each and every bite of it. You truly believe if perfection can be found, it would be in that late summer afternoon. The soft sunbeams creeping through from the shade and the perfume of the freshly cut flowers in your basket. The soft breeze that runs through your hair and causes the flowers in the fields to sway slightly as though they were dancing to the music flowing from your friends' beaten up guitar. 

“What’d ya’ dream about doin’?” he would ask as he gazed up at the clouds overhead, idly strumming his guitar, his lips and fingertips stained red. 

“What do you mean Elvis?” You would ask as you pick at the very last seeds on your rind. 

“I-I mean wh-what’d ya wanna do when you grow up, Honeybee?,” he asks nervously, eyes firmly on the fields as though he were afraid of your answer. You roll your eyes slightly at his nickname for you, stemming from the time a bee landed on your hand and rather than swatting it away, you gently blew on it to get it to fly away. But you do decide to humor him anyway.

“Oh…This.” 

“Really?” he asks, truly baffled at your answer. “You really don’t wanna go nowhere or-or do somethin’ else?”

“Why would I wanna do anything else?,” you ask in turn, confused at his confusion. “It’s like magic when really think ‘bout it,” you insist, showing him the last few kernels of the pomegranate you have in your hand. “Something so small can turn into something so beautiful.”  

“You could plant ‘em anywhere, couldn’t you?” he insists.

You shrug your shoulders at that. “I guess.”

“But what if you couldn’t stay here,” he asks, his tone mournful, but you didn’t pick up on it at the time. “Wha-what if you had to go far away and y-you couldn’t come back?”

“Then I would make a new home,” you dismiss, offering him the last six seeds of your Pomegranate. He looks so surprised by the offer, his eyes a bit glassy before he furiously rubs them with the back of his hand and accepts your offer. 

“Honeybee… co-could you meet me b-by your roses tomorrow,” he stutters. “I-i got something’ important to give ya’.”

“Ok.”

“Bu-but don’t tell your mama,” he says to you.

That may be a tall order, you thought at the time. Your mama on the other hand remains coolly indifferent to him, but you always got the sense that she didn’t like him for whatever reason. Nonetheless a promise is a promise.

Mama was probably at her happiest when he stopped coming around. When you learned he moved away, you were sad that your friend would leave without saying a proper goodbye, and you believed you would never see that dreamer boy again. 

So imagine your surprise when a few years later an electric, new singer starts making waves across the south. He tried to steal flowers from your farm and now he steals hearts across the country.

Just about every girl in town, if given the chance, will brag how they had known him way back when, some of the more daring ones even claiming to have been his first kiss. As far as what you have heard Elvis may be the only man alive to have had 25 first kisses. The boys were no better, all claiming to have been his closest buddy growing up, and promising any girl that they could definitely meet back up with him if they chose. 

Everyone is in an absolute tizzy for his return to Tupelo, you are simply trying to help your family through the rush of orders that has come in with the upcoming fair. Mostly it had been a headache because the new Miss Tupelo had demanded that her float be decorated with only white roses, as she didn’t think the standard red was flattering for her. 

Which is fine until your shop is presented with a very special order from the mayor himself for an order of three dozen of your finest roses to be given to Tupelo’s favorite returning son for his homecoming concert. 

Mama had initially treated it like any other order, until she saw who it was from.

“Absolutely not,” she said in her sternest voice, you hear from around the corner. 

“Demi,” your Auntie Kate would admonish her. “Don’t be stupid ‘bout this. It’s been years and he was just a dumb kid back then.” 

You don’t know what the mayor did to your Mama, but it had to have been bad, if he got her this worked up. Of course you’re not about to ask, as they had both pointedly left the room to discuss the matter while you were supposed to be minding the store. Instead you were very intently listening in to whether or not your mother was about to refuse an order for seemingly the first time in years.

“Kate, I ain’t takin’ any chances with this,” Mama declares. “You weren’t there, but if you’re ever gonna trust me on anything, let it be this.”

“Look Demi,” Kate sighs. “He’s willing to pay a ridiculous amount of money for them, and we need to offload some of the roses and it ain’t like he’s gonna-”

She’s interrupted by the bell signaling a customer having entered the shop. By the time you finish with him though, Mama has agreed, albeit reluctantly, to accept the order, under the condition the Kate be responsible for it in its totality 

You don’t know what Kate had said to her but you’re glad nonetheless as she would claim once your mama was out of earshot that she was too busy to do this order so she asked if you would please be so kind as to take care of it for her. 

Those weeks leading up to the fair, someone had asked Elvis if he was looking forward to reconnecting with anyone special back in Tupelo. As the reporter described it, the young star would look down bashfully at his feet, one side of his mouth curving upwards with only the slightest hint of red on his ears as he proclaimed yes to this humble reporter. “My sweetheart from way back in the day. I lost touch with her when I moved up to Memphis and I am praying every night that I find her this time around.”

If him simply coming back for a day to perform sent girls into a frenzy, the prospect of him coming back to find his supposed childhood love, just about turned everybody hysterical. Reporters from all over had flooded the town and had been skulking around trying to find this mysterious girl that had a hold on one of the biggest rising stars. Even once or twice coming into the shop and asking if you’ve received any calls from Memphis asking to send flowers to a specific girl in town. 

Many girls were claiming to be the one Elvis is in fact looking for, recounting their memories of a sweet boy who only had eyes for them. They all followed the same general beats of being in the same class, he was embarrassingly smitten with them, and they rejected him. You had been in different grades and didn’t really know him outside of when he would visit your farm seemingly everyday, so you could hardly attest as to whether or not any of this was true. You do however remember him cryptically referring to one specific girl that had his heart, though in not so many words.

In the days leading up to the last time you would see him, he became very interested in the flowers for romance. He didn’t say that he was planning to do so, but you could tell he was gearing up to declare his love for that girl he never named. Your first suggestion is, of course, whatever her favorite flower is. 

He would blanche a bit at that, “She-she loves em all,” he would mumble looking away bashfully and facing the vibrantly colored fields. According to your mama this is man's speak for “I don’t know.” With few exceptions, nobody is without a favorite, and you sigh slightly disappointed in him that he’s apparently ready to declare undying affection for a girl and he didn’t even know that basic but important information about the girl. But you did promise him your help so you gave him some suggestions: Lilacs for new love, Gardenias for secret love, Carnations for deep love, Tulips for perfect love, Forget-Me-Nots for true love, and of course Red Roses for passionate love. 

On that day you would find him nervously pacing in front of your first batch of roses. They were now in full bloom and you sadly recognized that you’re going to have to cut them soon. You know that’s the beast of this business, that in order to bring new life in, the old must make way, but it’s only a cold comfort and you hope that whoever they end up with will appreciate their beauty.

He practically stared you down as you walked down the row between rose bushes, but he seems to be shaking as though his knees were liable to give out at any moment, and the closer you got to him, you saw that his chest was practically heaving. You can see as he holds something behind his back and you blatantly try to look to see what it is, only to be stopped as he places one hand on your shoulder.

“What’d you wanna talk about Elvis?” you ask him, slightly worried he may be having a heat stroke. 

He swallows thickly before he finally answers you, “M-my folks and I are gonna be goin’ up North,” his eyes downcast as though he were ashamed to admit this, one hand still hidden behind his back. 

“Oh, when are you coming back?” you say oblivious to his grief. 

He’s taken by surprise at your question, but he does answer with a simple “I don’t know.” But with that he squares his shoulders and through trembling lips he stutters, “Honeybee… I-I-I want ya’ to c-come wi-with us.” 

“Ok.” you say, completely ignorant as to the true meaning of his words. 

“Really?” his face breaking into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Yeah,” you say simply. You remember vividly that you were going to say something to the effect of needing to be back home before dinner because Auntie Erin was gonna be making her famous Golden Apple Pie, when you all of a sudden felt your lips being occupied.

You laugh at your reaction to a simple kiss on the lips now, but at the time, it had felt like the end of the world to you. After all, you were so sure that this was how babies were made. 

When you had asked where babies came from, Mama nervously answered you with this story: Your Daddy kissed your mama out in front of the red roses, and their love would cause a new bud to bloom where they would find you sleeping in a rosebud. 

Back then you didn’t know any better, all you did know was that you didn’t want to take care of a baby right now. You wanted to grow Azaleas next, and Mama warned you that that would be a big commitment to make. And Elvis was going to be moving away, so who was going to take care of the baby? 

You were confused and frustrated beyond anything you’ve experienced up to that point, and you did what any overwhelmed 9 year old would do. 

You started bawling your eyes out, pushed him down, and ran back home. 

Mama would later comfort you and reassure you no baby was on it’s way. She corrected her story and told you that in fact, the couple must be married in order for a baby to be made. (She never did go into further detail as to the process, so you assumed that was the only necessary detail)

The next day, you had felt bad and wanted to apologize to Elvis for the confusion and for pushing him down yet again. You even had a sprig of Lily of the Valley ready as a peace offering and everything, but you wouldn’t see him the next day. Nor the day after that. 

You wouldn’t hear about him until about a couple months back when you had been dethorning the roses while listening to the radio. You vividly remember the surprise that came over you the moment the DJ announced the artist behind the song. How could you not? Afterall it marks the first time in years that a rose had been able to draw blood from you, because in your surprise, hearing the name of a ghost from your past, your ungloved fingers met with a thorn perfectly. 

There was no doubt in your mind that it was him not just for the very distinct name, but for that song specifically. You remember him singing it while you were in the fields, saying he had heard it from Big Boy Crudup himself. 

For maybe half a second you entertain the thought that you may be the mystery sweetheart of his, but just as quickly you dismiss it as the way he describes it as being a long lost love tragically torn apart by fate. You on the other hand pushed him down and cried your eyes out when he kissed you once before never seeing him again, hardly the type of romance worth reading about.

And like a blink of an eye the fair day arrived. 

You had been expressly forbidden from going to the fair, your mother giving no real reason beyond “because I said so.” This in turn makes you feel less guilty about your little scheme, as she did not forbid you from choosing that day to be the day you work in the shop. 

Men are funny creatures, you realize as you work on the order the morning of. Whoever put in the order made sure to specify that the roses must be fresh yet somehow neglected to mention the preferred color. 

You opted for red ones in the end as you have those in abundance and you figure they probably wouldn’t look too closely into the meaning beyond it being the classic rose color. But you do slip in a pink rose in the mix, remembering the first flower you had ever given him. 

It’s a big order to fill, which you only realize once you're carrying a comically large bouquet into the backstage area of the fairgrounds. It was a bit of a hassle making it there in the first place as evidently you’re not the first young woman insisting you’re allowed to be backstage. Though none of them had the mayor himself vouching for the order and letting you in. 

He was already walking up on to the stage by the time you get there, and all you really see of him is the back of his head. Without knowing what you did, you would be hard-pressed to find any similarities between the man on stage and the boy who had to sing facing away from you lest he get too anxious. 

But when he was presented with the key to the city, did you finally see hints of that boy from your memories. The way he kept shifting nervously from foot to foot, how he kept stuffing his hands in his pockets only to take them out, his eyes flickering back and forth between the crowd and the mayor. All of it reminding you of the endearing, stuttering boy who nervously asked you what each flower in your field meant. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone move like that before, so jerky and sudden, but also so very fluid when he wanted to be. Oddly enough you’re reminded of snake charming, with that vicarious thrill of watching something that looks so dangerous, but you also can’t look away from. But that begs the question: is he the snake or is he the charmer?

It’s hard to say, especially when he shifted gears to slower, less rowdy songs.

And then one day

I had my love as perfect as could be

She lived, she loved, she laughed, she cried

And it was all for me

There was a bit of a tremble in his voice as he crooned those words out to the crowd, as though he were close to tears himself. It’s here you think you truly find that boy that used to bug you when you were out in the fields. 

It felt like all too soon the concert was over and he was stepping behind the stage. What feels like half a million eyes are focused on him as he steps off the stage to where he was met with just as many cameras and questions thrown his way. You almost feel bad for him, that he wasn’t even given a chance to breathe between one stage to another. 

His eyes scanned the crowd that gathered around him, but eventually his eyes would settle on the ridiculously large bouquet right next to you.  It’s hard to miss, you think, looking at it, but when you look back at him you find that his eyes are firmly set on you and you feel your heart skip a beat. 

He’s probably trying to figure out where he knows you from, you figure. It’s been years, you yourself had long ago forgotten about him, but hearing his name on the radio for the first time dredged up all of those memories.

You can hardly blame him though the both of you have changed a lot in the almost ten years since you’d last seen each other and he doesn’t have the benefit of a famous name or your face on TV to jog his memory.

Even still some part of yourself wishes he does remember and you walk towards him with more a skip in your step than ever. But you find your path thwarted by an unwelcome familiar face.

Mindy, whom you’ve known since grade school, when her and her Mama lived on the farm with you until her mama married a new man. You used to be the best of friends but when she moved out she seemed to want to distance herself from you and did so by criticizing everything you did. 

Most people would be hard-pressed to name anything she does like, but ask her about the things she hates and she can go on for hours. And of all the things she hates, you think you rank somewhere near the top, given how much she used to talk about you to anyone who would listen. Everything about you was apparently a personal offense to her, with her latest insult being that you apparently had a bunch of cats on your farm, hence your latest and most confusing nickname of “the Cathouse girl.” Though by far her most egregious thing she's ever said was that one day you were going to suffocate from your Mama’s apron strings, and it felt all the worse that you couldn’t even go to her about it lest you prove her point.

She now proudly wears her Miss Tupelo sash over seafoam green dress as she attempts to lift the bouquet out of your hands with a cloyingly sweet, “I’ll take that off your hands hon.” 

You move to protest this, but apparently your day has just gone from bad to worse, as you feel a familiar iron-like grip on your arm. “Rosebud, it’s time for us to leave.” You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“But Mama-”

“Yeah Y/N, thought all you did was listen to your Mama,” Mindy interrupts you as she finally wrenches the bouquet out of your hands. 

“It’s time to go home, Y/N,” your mother says severely, her grip on your elbow unyielding. Your cheeks burn with humiliation, having never felt so small under your mothers gaze, but you don’t argue with her and allow yourself to be pulled away, lest a bigger scene be caused.

Mindy, idly pops her spearmint gum with the most triumphant of smiles, sparing you a simple dismissive twiddle of her fingers before spinning around to present your hard work to your old friend. If there’s one thing you can be glad about in that moment, is that exactly zero other eyes were on you as you conceded to your mother like a scolded child and let her lead you out of the fairgrounds.

Little did you realize at the time, someone was watching.

You get into the truck and sit your fists clenching in anger on your knees, ashamed at what transpired just now. 

“Rosebud…” she starts, and you petulantly turn your entire body to face the window with your back to her. “Honey I know you think I go overboard with these things, but you gotta trust your mama here when I say that it’s all for your own good.”

Your nails dig into the meat of your palms, so hard you worry it may draw blood, but a part of you welcomes that. Maybe then she will understand how upset you are with her.  She still treats you like a child after all these years, protecting you from some nebulous threat that is both ever present yet somehow not important enough to give a name. 

You feel suffocated, unable to defend yourself from insults that you aren’t allowed to fully understand.

These feelings would only double when you would see the next day's newspaper, where an enlarged picture of Elvis and Mindy on the ferris wheel would take up most of the front page. Well there’s your answer as to who this mystery girl is, you think bitterly. 

Sweethearts reunited at last, the headline reads.

Though all your anger and fury would end up manifesting into nothing when the real world decided to remind you what was important in life. About a week after the fair, your home would receive a late night visit from the sheriff informing you of tragedy.

It didn’t feel real seeing what was once a colorful store teeming with life and love to now be reduced to a smoldering, skeletal pile of ash. You had been there not even a day ago and now it was gone. The police don’t suspect foul play but they weren’t ruling it out, and as you would learn, the little insurance mama did have on the shop didn’t cover fires unless it could be proven beyond a doubt that it was accidental. So suffice it to say, your family is on its own in terms of getting the store back up and running. 

Typically late fall is for drying out maybe a quarter of the left over supply of flowers, storing the rest into the cold storage below the shop, winterizing the bushels for the next season, and shifting focus to seeding and growing the more popular flowers in the greenhouses, but the fire had thrown the ultimate wrench into the plans. A good chunk of the cut flowers had been kept on display at the front of the shop or beneath it in cold storage, and so with them went much of the value in the business.

Your mama is stressed beyond anything you’ve ever seen, but what makes it worse is that she refuses to burden you with the knowledge of your financial situation. Which in turn stresses you out even more about the financial situation she didn’t want you to know about.

About a month after the fire Mama had gone to the bank in an effort to get a business loan so that she could rent a new place, while the others were in town trying to strike up partnerships with other stores on the same street and convince them to buy and sell your flowers. It wasn’t the greatest of plans but it was the only one you were left with so that you may hobble through this year into the next.

They could sell the flowers off to shops in nearby towns, but even selling the rest of the supply wholesale will hardly breakeven for this year leaving you with nothing saved come next season. And even then that’s only if everybody refuses payment for the work they did, which they did offer, but your Mama was having none of it.

Even setting up a stand on your property and selling from there wasn’t an option, as you’re located way too far out from town too hope for those driving by to stop and buy flowers off of you. 

You find yourself on one of the rare days in which you’re home alone, as you sit on the porch gazing out at the fields nearly devoid of all flora now. If your mother can’t convince the bank for a loan then all that your family has ever grown will rot, the land sold, and the strange tribe of women that had been collected under this roof would be left adrift. Beauty will give way over to necessity, as these bankers are under the false assumption that people don’t need flowers.

But how can you begrudge the necessity of food at a time like this when your kitchen is looking pathetically sparse these days. You wouldn’t mind too much if you didn’t know that it was a prelude to no food at all. 

It didn’t feel right that this would be the end of the farm, your Nana Gail took the dusty lands her deadbeat of a husband left her with and turned it into something beautiful. She passed it on to your Mama, a relative stranger she took in the both of you when your daddy was sent away to die an ocean away. 

The farm had survived two world wars and yet it would be a fire that would cause all that the women of your family had built to crumble. 

You shake your head furiously at the thought. Don’t let these bad thoughts get to you, you think to yourself. You're truly afraid of where these thoughts may lead you if you let them fester so instead you decide that the kitchen would benefit from some cheery flowers to brighten up the place. 

The house is in desperate need of that these days. 

But as you were in the dirt to pick Daffodils, you realize you weren’t as alone as you thought, as in the distance you see some dust being kicked up. Your heart jumps for joy thinking that it was your mother, bearing good news, until you get to the dirt road and the unfamiliar black car drives past you.

Making your way home you can see a tall figure step out of the shiny car, dressed all in black. As they turn to look at the house, they strike an unsettlingly familiar silhouette but it still takes you a second to recognize him, even if it was not even a month ago when you saw him last. 

Maybe it’s because, in your head, he’s still that gangly tow-headed boy, not this tall dark man in black that stands before you. 

“Elvis?”

A devastating grin spreads across his face as he spreads his arms out in a clear invitation for a hug. “Been a long time, Honeybee.”

You don’t know the etiquette as to how to greet someone you haven’t talked to in years, but also whom you’ve seen in passing a few days ago. But you graciously accept the hug and kiss on the cheek he gives you, so you in turn invite him into your home, unsure what else to do in the face of his casual familiarity. 

“Hope you don’t mind,” he says, grabbing a basket from the back seat. “But I brought you a lil’ gift.” Your eyes widen and your mouth instantly starts to water at the plentiful bounty within, as no less than a dozen Pomegranates filled that ornate basket. The fact that he brought such a thing, seemingly on a whim, spoke volumes as to how well the music business was treating him more than any sparkling jewel or shiny car could. 

“Can I offer you some water or…” you trail off as you put the daffodils in a vase, hoping he accepts, and you won’t have to suffer the embarrassment of having so little to offer such a man.

“If you could be a doll actually,” he says, plucking one of the sweet fruits. “Why don’tcha pop one a these open for old times sake.” You’re silently grateful he asked as you doubt it would have been too long before your empty stomach was demanding for one. “I still remember when you gave me one for the first time.” he idly remarks as you start to cut into it.  

You smile at that shared memory between the two of you, though a sorrowful ache settles in your stomach as those days seem so far away now. You gather a few errant seeds from the cutting board and you can’t help the small moan that comes from you, as you had resigned yourself to the fact that you wouldn’t be having any this year.

With the plate in hand you turn around to find your guest frozen in his sweet, before quickly gathering himself as you approach. 

“So what brings you back to these ol’ parts,” you ask, placing the plate between you two.

He pops a few seeds off of the ridge, and into his mouth, “Well I came back here because a certain someone left my show before I could even say hello to her.” 

You look down slightly embarrassed but a little ecstatic that he realized your absence, “Sorry ‘bout that, we get super busy around this time and couldn’t stick around too long.”

“I get it,” he answers amiably. “It looked like you and your mama had somewhere to be.”

You cringe and look down humiliated that, of all the things he could’ve seen that day, he saw perhaps the most embarrassing moment of your life. You look back and see an expression you can’t quite read on his face as you quickly recover and ask him how the star's life is treating him.

He regales you with all that he’s done the past few years since the music thing took off, and how he’s looking forward to the movies he’s gonna make. He even tells you how he’s just about to finish filming his first one pretty soon, and head back to Hollywood in a week.

The irony that you sit across from him, his dreams once so lofty and out of reach now coming true whereas your simple one seems to slip through your fingers is not lost on you. You have to actively force yourself to be happy for him at this moment, as he’s hardly to blame for your recent misfortunes. 

“How are you and Mindy doing?” you ask, after a while.

“Who?”

That really shouldn’t make you as happy as it did. 

“You know your old Sweetheart and all that,” you tease lightly.

“Oh… her…” he says, unable to hide the bit of a grimace on his face. “She was… nice?”

“You don’t gotta lie,” you say, laughing a bit at the thought

“She was nice to me,” he elaborates, shrugging his shoulders a bit, before giving a pointed look at you. “She had a lot to say ‘boutchu though.”

“I can imagine.” you say, plucking a few seeds. “Guess childhood sweethearts ain’t all they cracked up to be.”

“Wouldn’t know,” he says. “But enough a all that, how ‘boutchu, Honeybee? Whatcha been up to all these years?” 

“Oh you know, ain’t nothin’ ever changes down in Tupelo,” you dismiss, hoping to dodge his question. “Still growing flowers, still selling them,” you say, willing your smile to be more cheerful than strictly necessary. 

“Y’know,” he broaches lightly, his fingers awkwardly rapping against the grainy wood of the table. “I actually did stop by the shop before I got here…” he trails off, a solemn air falling over the both of you. 

“Oh.”

“Listen, darlin’,” he says, taking his hand in yours. “If you need anythin’ tell me how I can help,” he pleads softly.

“Yo-you don’t gotta be worried ‘bout us, we-we’re gonna be fine,” you stutter, attempting to parrot your Mama’s own words back to him, hoping you’re at least somewhat convincing. He takes your hand in his and soothingly rubs his thumb along the back of your hand. 

“Sweetheart if you folks need some money to tide y‘all over for a bit, I’d be happy t-”

“No,” you cut him off. “I can’t accept your money for nothing,” you declare. 

“I understand Honeybee,” he says, looking out the window. “But I just moved to a new place up in Memphis. It’s nice but kinda… bare on the outside, and I’ve been in the market for someone to fix that.” he says his steely blue gaze fixed on you. “And then I thought who better than the girl who could grow anythin’?” 

You’re genuinely flattered at the compliment, but you can’t help but feel this is simply more of his pity and you let him know as much. 

“Sweetheart, I was gonna offer you the job even before I saw your shop,” he says genuinely. “It don’t gotta be forever, just work a couple months up in Graceland, makin’ sure everything set up come spring, then you’ll be home.”

“Graceland?”

“It’s what the old owners called it anyway,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s a house right now, but it ain’t no home.” he looks solemn in his words until his eyes trail to you and you can see in real time as his whole demeanor brightens. “I think you could help fix that darlin’,” he states, his smile making it hard to focus on much else.

There is a bit of a pause, and you stupidly realize he’s waiting for an answer from you. But from the almost imperceptible drop in his grin at your hesitation, you doubt it’s the one he’s looking for. “I-I’m flattered but… I-I can’t just leave right now.” you stutter, feeling guilty that he’s now upset with you, and you feel the need to further justify your stance. “My family needs me right now.”

“And this is how you can help ‘em right now,” he argues, reaching into his back pocket. “I can even pay ya’ half upfront now.”

“Elvis, I don’t think that’ll be eno–” you’re cut off by him suddenly slapping what looks to be six hundred dollars on the table before casually going back to picking off the ruby colored seeds. He smiles a bit at the gobsmacked expression on your face, but how could you not be?

Renting out a new space downtown for a few months wouldn’t even cost a quarter of this with the rest being able to go toward everything else. It’s almost funny that previously you never even thought about money, but now it feels like that’s all you think about these days. 

“This-this is just for six months of work?” 

“Three actually,” he corrects. “The rest you’ll get paid in the Spring.” 

You feel your heart thunder within your chest with his words. This would be more than enough money to get your family through the year. But you don’t know if you could do it. Not the gardening part obviously more the being so far away from your family part. 

“Can I have some time to think about it?” you question, hoping that maybe the rest will be able to better convince you to go for it or someone else could take the offer.

“Sweetheart I gotta get back to Memphis real soon,” he warns, a lot cooler than before. “So I’m gonna need an answer right now.” You swallow nervously at the intensity of his gaze on you, feeling an uncomfortable feeling settling in your belly, the prospect of leaving home, making you queasy.

“Elvis I-I-I don’t know,” you stutter, your palms clammy as you hold the hem of your skirt with shaky hands, feeling as though the world is somehow closing in on you. 

“Well I guess that’s that then,” he says with an air of finality, that only further turns your stomach.

This man is offering a solution to all your current woes and yet you hesitate? You balk at the idea of a couple months of doing the same work you would’ve been doing here? And for what exactly? 

You know you should discuss this with your Mama, but you already know what her answer is going to be. It’s the same one she has been giving these last few weeks when you had asked about getting a job to better support the house.

Your daddy never came back from the war so she promised to love you twice as fiercely, for the both of them. She had always done her best to feed you, clothe you, protect you. It’s no secret that everything this farm started from you when she had to support the both of you on her own. And you know for a fact if it was her being offered the job she wouldn’t have even blinked to take it. But you’re about to let that all slip through your fingers because you’re too much of a coward to do what needs to be done. 

But even with all that in mind, it’s not your mind that ultimately makes the decision so much as your stomach, as it rumbles yet again as you look upon the basket he left behind overflowing with one of the most expensive fruits you know, a mere taste as to what he can so casually provide you.

You catch him just as he’s about to step out the door, but before you can officially say yes you have one question left for him. “Can you promise me I’ll be home come Spring?”

“Darlin’ I can promise you right now, come Spring we’ll both have exactly what we want.” which is a big promise for anyone to make, but you are looking at the boy who had gone from being only able to sing in front of a single person in an empty field to someone who is now selling out shows to hundreds. There is an odd sense that if anybody can manifest the near impossible it would be him. 

It takes you only an hour to pack what you think you’ll need for these coming months, as well as write a barebones note explaining to your Mama that no you’re not being kidnapped and that you’ll be gone to raise money to save the farm. You don’t say where you’ll be but you do promise that you will write as often as you can and that you’ll be home come springtime. You quickly stuff the note and the money into the envelope, and leave it right on top of the basket. 

But before you can make it out the front door, you're presented with a bright cheerful looking daffodil, plucked straight from the vase you had put it in. “For new beginnings,” he says with a soft smile. 

“How’d you know that?” you asked surprised that he remembered after all this time, but taking a hold of it anyway.

“Hell, all the time I spent down here,” he said, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Somethin’ was bound to stick.”

And just like that you’re off. 

You refuse to look forlornly out at the fields you’re leaving behind, trying to remind yourself that it’s not as though you’ll be gone forever. You’ll be back before you know it, you think, trying to convince yourself, and it’s Elvis’ hand in yours that gives you some small comfort in this incredibly trying time, even as his eyes are firmly set forward.

Though it’s as you get to the state border do you realize that this will mark the first time you’ve been so far from home ever, and you let Elvis know as much. 

“There’s gonna be a lotta firsts when you stick with me darlin’,” he says, giving a tender kiss to the back of your hand.

Graceland on the outside is beautiful but… sterile, if you had to take a guess. There were trees with leaves starting to brown for the autumn, the shrubbery was perfectly manicured, and the grass was well maintained but it was utterly devoid of color save for the cars in the driveway. 

But then again this is what you’re here to rectify, so you try to be an optimist about it, and try to view it as a blank canvas so to speak. What the property lacked in the moment was warmth and you suppose now it’s your job to bring it.

That first month was all devoted to building the greenhouse necessary to start the entire process. You prefer to start with the seeds rather than skipping straight to the bulbs, so a place where you can better help them grow is ideal. Elvis is all too willing to indulge this and he puts in the order for one but all too soon he has to leave to go and finish his movie. 

As much as you knew Elvis, it felt odd being in a house with the owner gone. And while Graceland was far from empty, there is still that unsettling sensation of being there that you can’t quite shake. 

Of course not used to being so idle even during the winter, you start to take on other duties around the household. You quickly endear yourself to Miss Gladys with your willingness to take on the chores of the house and she goes out of her way to make you feel welcome. 

You like her, she’s the only one who feels as uncomfortable at the opulence as you did. In a lot of ways she reminds you of your own mother with the way she frets over her absent son. This strikes a particularly guilty chord within you, because unlike your Mama, Gladys has the benefit of knowing where her child was at the moment. 

“Where ya from sweetheart?” she asks you idly one day as you’re helping her make breakfast early one morning. 

“Tupelo,” you say while you beat the eggs.

“Oh do I know your Mama?”

“Probably,” you answer. “She ran the flower shop back there.”

Gladys pauses at that. You can’t see her face but you do hear the hesitation in her voice as she whispers “... Demi?”

“Yeah that’s my mama… you know her?” you ask a little confused at this point, and you wonder if there is some history there. 

There is an uncomfortably long pause before she says a simple, “Yeah I think I remember her…” The rest of the morning is filled with an awkward silence as you try to figure out what could have possibly happened there. 

That night, before you enter the room to talk to Elvis over the phone, you overhear the tail end of the conversation between him and his Mama. You hear her whisper in a low tone, “I hope you know what you’re doin’ Bewbie.” 

Whatever awkwardness that had arisen because of her question disappears soon after that. Gladys happily takes you under her wing once more, bringing you further into the fold of the Presleys and all the dynamics that come with it. She has even begun to refer to you as the daughter she never had which, while you understand is meant to make you feel welcome here, it in fact eats at you considering the state of the relationship between you and your real Mama. 

It’s times like these that you truly hate that your family doesn’t have a telephone. You want more than anything to hear her voice, but you know yourself well enough to know that if you were to even visit now you wouldn’t want to ever leave again.

You write to her pretty much every day. Like clockwork for the first month you write to her telling her about your day the same way you usually would, asking her for advice on some flowers, anything really that comes to mind. You had a lot of time that first month while you were helping with planning and building the greenhouse, so everyday you would sift through the hoard of mail to find one bearing your home address.

But it never comes. 

That doesn’t stop you from continuing to write to her everyday, handing off the letter to Jerry, and eagerly awaiting her reply. 

Elvis is very understanding over the fact that it’s a marathon and not a sprint to make the garden he wanted  and every time he’s back home he’s just as eager to see your progress with the seeds as you are to show him. Once you even tried to apologize to him feeling guilty that it’s taking so long to perfect that image of Graceland he had.

“Sweetheart you bein’ there, takin’ care a everythin’ makes it feel all the more like a proper home,” he insists over the phone. “And I can’t wait to get back and see it all.” 

This guilt eases once the greenhouse is finished and you can finally get to work with the flowers you’ve planned. Elvis quote “trusted your vision” and wanted you to choose whatever you thought worked best, but he did specify which flowers he absolutely wanted on the property: Lilacs, Gardenias, Carnations, Tulips, Forget-Me-Nots, and Roses. 

“I’m a bit of a romantic, I guess,” he said shyly rubbing the back of his neck. You don’t mind too much, as him knowing what he wants by far makes him the easiest man you’ve ever worked with. 

Elvis had left you with the understanding that the boys he left behind would be at your beck and call and that should you need anything, not to be afraid to send them to get it. Pots and other such tools were easy enough to send for, but when it came down to other fine details such as soil and seeds, you trusted no one but yourself to find what you need, and so you instead ask if one of them could take you into town to find what you need. 

“I cAN-” Jerry, one of the younger ones offered, blushing furiously at his overeagerness that caused his voice to crack slightly. “I mean I can take you,” he says, far more composed this time around. The other men protest, saying he’s too young and that he only just got his license, and ‘don’tchu want a real man drivin’ around sweetheart?’

It was those last comments that really solidified your decision to have it be him, as there was something about Jerry, (16, Lanky, and with a voice still cracking from puberty) that put your mind at ease over all these other grown men, in a way you can’t exactly place.

You stopped going to school when you were around 15 and outside of brief exchanges with the men that used to come into your shop, you haven’t really had much interaction with menfolk in the past 3 years. So that’s where you believe your unease stems from, having been surrounded by mostly women your entire life, being around so many men now is a bit of a shock to your system. 

He leads you to his shiny new car, a gift from Elvis for some unspecified favor he did for him, and just like that you’re off. The drive into town is mostly quiet save for Jerry nervously pointing out to you his favorite places in Memphis. You're happy to get out of Graceland, even for a little bit, as you rarely if ever got to explore Tupelo, so being somewhere entirely new was exciting, but at the end of the day there is really only one place you wished to be, the local nursery.

You quickly locate the specific tools you’re going to need and find the best soil for the flowers, and you’re finally able to do what you most wanted. You’re almost like a kid in a candy store as you eagerly look through the varieties of seeds available within the store. As much as you want to take them all you have to be realistic as to not only what would look good, but as to what could be grown on the property to have it looking good year round.

“So err…uhhh… Wh-what’s your favorite flower?” he asks shyly, as you're perusing the various seed packets to be had. 

“All of them,” you say without hesitation, not even looking up from the task.

“Really all of ‘em?” 

“I’m serious, asking me what my favorite flower is, it’s like asking a mother who her favorite child is,” you say fondly, rubbing your thumb lightly on the little packets that will eventually become the flowers you so love.  

He laughs at that, “Why do ya’ love ‘em so much?”

“Well when you grow up on a flower farm, you ain’t got much of a choice,” you quip. 

“A flower farm?” 

“Yeah,” you clarify. “My Mama and I grew and sold flowers in our shop back in Tupelo.” 

“...Yo-you had a flower shop back in Tupelo?” he stutters. 

“Yeah,” you say solemnly, this conversation dredging up some very bittersweet memories. “Why dontcha go ring up everything while I finish up over here,” you say.

It's October already, you think to yourself, they probably started cutting down the sunflowers by now. You know that you’re doing more for them here making money and sending it back to them than you would have being an extra set of idle hands back home, still that does little to quell that uneasy feeling being so far from home now. 

You’d kept up the writing and have recently let her know how lonely you’ve been feeling here, part venting, part as a means of getting her to write to you back for the first time.

It didn’t work and that sours your mood for the rest of the outing.

The ride back to Graceland is far quieter this time around, and Henry seems to avoid you after that, but you hardly notice as now that you have everything you need, you can really focus all your energy in doing what you came here to do. This is what you’re undoubtedly good at and now that you’re back at it, you don’t want anything to distract you from doing your job and getting back home as soon as possible.

A few days later, as you were finishing up in the greenhouse you would find Jerry sitting next to someone, back ramrod straight as a familiar figure had an arm casually slung over his shoulder. Jerry leaves before you can figure out what that’s all about, so you instead greet the not-so-stranger before you.

“You’re early,” you casually remark to him. 

“I missed ya’,” he drawls, a light smirk on his lips that causes a pleasant warmth to radiate from your chest. But his face takes on a more sobering look as he looks at you, purses his lips, and pats the no occupied seat, which you worriedly take. “Actually, I was just ‘bouta go lookin’ for ya’,” he says, before letting out a pensive sigh. “Jerry actually needs a place to stay for a week or two, and I invited him here.”

“Oh that’s nice of you,” you say.

A small bashful smile cracks his somber expression, before the intensity returns and he informs you that yours was the room he offered him. 

 “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch,” you insist, scared that you may be about to be sent home without the rest of the money to show for it.

“Don’tchu worry ‘bout that,” he said, chucking your chin up to look at him. “I just figured that my bed should be big ‘nough for the both of us.” 

His words catch you off guard, and you feel your face burning unsure as to how to respond. He sees your hesitation and backs off slightly before continuing. “Course if you don’t feel too comfortable sharin’ with me I can always putcha up somewhere else,” he starts and you’re about to jump on that offer until he continues. “Though, we might need to take that outta your pay,” he says, and you shrink a bit at the reality of the situation. “Not to mention havin’ to getchu back and forth day in and out,” he continues, rambling on and on about the logistics of the prospect.

“No-no,” you cut in. “I-if you’re really okay with it… then I-I don’t mind.” you say slightly defeated though if he notices he doesn’t say anything about it.

A full grin cracks his face, “Perfect we’ll go move your things right now,” he says as he takes your hand in his leading you up to where your room was.

“...ok…” you said, accepting his offer in a small voice. Though it’s hardly an offer as that would imply you had a choice in the matter. 

The next week you want to kick yourself over being so nervous over nothing, as he proves himself to be nothing less than a gentleman all things considered. Yes he does get a bit clingy when he’s asleep and he all but refuses to let you out of the bed when you wake up before him. But in all honesty you welcome it very much. 

It helps ease that lonely feeling somewhat as being held by him takes away some of your worry about not belonging here. Everybody seems to give you a wide berth and it was a definite shock to your system considering where you come from, being essentially the baby on the farm you were freely plied with all forms of physical affection your whole life. But you do take comfort in him, even if it is only limited to the night time.

Though when that week is up you idly ask him when you can move your things back into your old room, to which he only responds by wrapping an arm over your shoulders and saying, “Now why would I want my Honeybee so far away from me.” 

You’re too shocked at the statement to even think of countering him at the moment, but even when the statement does truly settle for you, you aren’t entirely opposed to it. As it makes you feel far more secure here knowing that he wants you here so much. It’s odd how final it feels in spite of how small the moment was. You’re not just Honeybee anymore, you're His Honeybee, and that’s that.

That’s one of the first things you learned living in Graceland, is that whatever Elvis says, goes. Everybody seems to bend over backwards to his wishes here, and at first it was a little funny if a little perturbing, as you justified to yourself that you were his friend and therefore he wouldn’t put any crazy demands on you even if he was technically your boss. 

But it’s only in that moment that you truly realize that you were no exception to that rule. And why would you be? Considering he is the one that is the one supporting not only you but by extension your entire family back home, how can you do anything but agree to his demands?

But that may be being a bit too harsh, as being his girl is certainly not an unpleasant phenomena. He seemed to become bolder with your amiable acceptance to your new found title of becoming his. In short order all of the clothes you brought from home disappeared and were replaced with much finer ones, and he becomes the most frequent visitor in the greenhouse. 

Whenever he is around is almost constantly touching you and bringing you close to him at any given moment. And these weren’t exactly touches you were familiar with; Brushing his fingers along your neck to fix your necklace, hand on your lower back to steer you a certain way, rubbing your knee beneath the table (sometimes above your clothes, sometimes not) etc. All new and exciting, in their own ways.

Everytime you see him it feels akin to something blooming within your chest. You think this is why there were so many flowers meant to express love, because that feeling he gives you is hard to put into words. 

It was only inevitable that the kisses would come along eventually. First beginning as friendly ones on the cheek before bed, then graduating to something far more… carnal. Almost like he was trying to consume you, and these kisses always left you panting and in a state of shock from the ferocity he displayed only to end it with a very sweet kiss to your cheek and tucking the both of you into bed.

You’re not gonna lie and say you don’t enjoy the kissing but it does give you a good scare when he begins to touch you in other places that are not-so-innocent places as he kisses you: His hand on your bottom when wants to press your body closer to his, the continual rubbing between your inner thighs, his thumb circling the taut peak of your breast. 

Though admittedly his new touches were a bit on the scarier side for you, you don’t fight it, and in fact get bolder yourself by taking a page out of his book and giving as good as you got. He seems to relish the reaction he can pull from you, which is intimidating as much as it is titillating. 

But these feelings have also been manifesting in some strange ways physically, like you seem to breathe harder when he’s around, and seeing him bite his lip makes your mouth go dry. But this all pales in comparison to the sensation of him rubbing a hand on your inner thigh, and it feels like you go dry everywhere, save for one place. As exciting as it is, it’s confusing all the same, and you above all else wish you could confide in anyone with how you were feeling.

Typically you could freely talk about any lady troubles you may have with your Mama but her inability/unwillingness to talk to you now leaves you to navigate this maze alone. You consider asking Miss Gladys or even Dodger for their thoughts, but the fact that it’s Elvis that awakens these feelings within you, makes going to them seem inappropriate for some reason. But ultimately that only leaves you with one person to go to about your problem despite them also being the cause of it. 

Which is how you find yourself sitting on your knees in his bed with a shaky breath telling him how his touches are stirring something in you that you don’t understand. 

“Where?” he asks, seemingly innocent but the way he bites his cheek, tells you he’s trying to hold back a laugh at your discomfort. “Here” he says, placing a hand on your lower belly, and while it clenches from the sudden contact, you shake your head no. 

“Here?” He asks with a small smile, cupping one of your breasts, and though your breath hitches in your throat and you feel one of the buds harden at his thumbs' attention, that’s not where the worst of the feelings is coming from. 

“Elvis please,” you beg, squirming at his touch. 

“Oh I think I know Honeybee,” he says one hand now slowly dragging the hem of your nightgown up well past your hips, before he rubs his fingers along the seam of your panties.

In spite of the strangled feeling in your throat, you manage to squeak out a simple “yes,” as tears begin to well up in your eyes. 

“Don’tchu worry Baby. I know somethin’ that can help,” he says as he drags the delicate fabric of your white cotton panties down to your knees. On reflex your thighs clench shut immediately but, with a few languid kisses he’s able to distract you from your skittishness and you feel the first tentative brush of his fingers on that sensitive flesh. 

As much as you love your home you’ll admit that there was rarely if ever a moment for yourself there anymore. So him now brazenly touching the seldom explored area was mind-boggling for you, moreso when he begins to prod deeper, dipping between your folds and even one finger delving further than any other.

That gets a surprised gasp out of you before you bite down on your lip hard, embarrassed that you're feeling like this while he’s trying to help you. But while you’re able to hold back your noises, you can do nothing to help the way you’re breathing-well more panting- now or the way you’re shivering. You’ve never felt anything close to this in your life, but even this pales in comparison to when he adds a second finger, and you feel like you're about to burst. 

“Honeybee… what’d ya know ‘bout baby-makin’,” he asks, seemingly out of the blue.

Part of you wants to act coy and say something like “enough” to get him to continue, but it’s hard to concentrate on any of that as you feel his fingers deep within you. So instead you reply with, “that…that o-ooh-only a Husband and Wife can make oNE.” you yelp that last part as he curls his fingers ever so slightly. 

“And that’s it?” he asks with a bit of a skeptical look on his face, and you bury your face in his neck, a bit ashamed that that is the truth of the matter. “Oh Honeybee, you don’t gotta be that way,” he says, giving you a sweet kiss to your nose as he’s still three knuckles deep up your canal. “That’s the right of it, but I don’t think yer Mama ever mentioned that there ain’t no harm in practicin’ before the Weddin’ like this.”

“O-oh,” you say, part as an answer, part an involuntary noise to the way his thumb starts to circle around that pearl between your folds.

“You like that baby girl?” he purrs to you. Your eyes are shut tight and you’re trying to move your hips in tandem with his motions. 

“Y-yes,” you manage to whimper, so focused on chasing that feeling he’s causing that you don’t even notice when he drags the straps of your nightgown fully down your shoulders. And it’s as you suddenly feel him bite down hard on the soft skin of your breast do you finally peak with a harrowing sob. 

You cling on to him for dear life as wave after wave of pleasure surges through you all at once and you feel as though you’re going to float away any moment. But holding on to him, kissing him, and feeling his skin against your tethers you here, reassuring you that this isn't a dream. 

You feel his fingers leave you, and that paired with him pulling away from your lips causes a small whine to come from you. You’re quickly quieted from the shock of seeing him stick the same fingers in his mouth giving a contented groan, “Course my Honeybee’s got the sweetest nectar he whispers against your lips, before giving you a taste for yourself. 

You feel boneless and weightless yet your eyes feel so heavy from all that you just experienced, but for as tired as you are at that moment, you’re not ready to go back to dreaming yet. 

“Ca-can I try that on you?” you ask meekly still in a bit of a haze from that euphoric feeling.

A bite to his lip prevents it from being a full blown grin “You sure ‘bout that Baby? Mine’s a lil’ different… well not too lil’,” he says. Clearly amused by your request to make him feel just as good. 

“I wanna help,” you insist. He chuckles at how eager you were before he guides your hand down to a prominent bulge in his briefs. You’re not too sure what exactly you’re feeling through the rough cotton, just that it is either intensely painful or pleasurable to Elvis given how his breath hitches and his eyes slam shut. You try to remove your hand but his vice-like grip on your wrist prevents that and you can only further palm him.  

You apply a bit more pressure, you take the sigh of contentment as a good sign before you delve underneath the fabric of his shorts. 

You watch, a bit fascinated as you work to get the rough fabric down, and suddenly you’re face to face with something you’ve never seen before. A long thick column of flesh stands before you, bobbing slightly as he takes deep breath after breath. The skin feels soft but unyielding beneath your touch and you patiently await his instructions, but that deep groan that comes from him as you apply a bit of pressure makes you feel all sorts of powerful over this beautiful man. 

He has you gather the slick from between your legs and even spit in your own hand to make it easier for you to slide up and down the shaft. His eyes are screwed shut, his long lashes brushing his cheeks, and he’s mumbling his praises for you, which only further encourages you. 

He’s unraveling before your eyes, and you take great delight in being a witness to it. You’ve seen him dance before so it shouldn’t be surprising how well he’s able to move his hips, but it does add an entirely new context to it and you hope the next time you see him on stage you’ll be able to not think of him like this.

An idea pops into your head, and you decide to jump on it before you lose your nerve, and you give a soft kiss to the very tip of him. He freezes in place, his eyes wide and shocked at your teasing, his chest rising and falling and you feel heat flood your entire being.

“I-I’m so-sorry,” you breath out, embarrassed that you may have unintentionally done something you weren’t supposed to do. “I just th-thought you mi-” you cut off as he chuckles at your obvious distress before giving you a sweet kiss. 

“Just surprised me Honeybee, thas all,” he reassures you against your lips, before giving you a little nibble there. “Why don’tcha try that again?” he drawls, trying to not appear too eager, but it’s apparent even to you. 

You get right back to it, and you give even softer kisses along the shaft, each one being punctuated by a low moan from him, until you finally get to the very top of him, and you run your tongue along the small slit to be found there.    

His hips stutter at that and one second you’re wondering what’s happening to him, the next you’re a coughing mess as that salty stream hits the back of your throat. He’s now just as dazed as you feel his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back, as you settle, and he takes charge in getting you both ready for bed.

As you lay side by side, he has nothing but praise for you whispering how good and perfect you were between hungry kisses until you drift off to sleep. 

The next day would mark the first time you didn’t write to your mother. Part because you have already accepted she wouldn’t reply, part wanting to also keep that as private as possible. It also marks the first time in your life you don’t share something that felt so important with her.

Your Mama never liked talking about your daddy beyond saying that they loved each other very much. She never went into detail beyond that believing you were too young to hear them, but she never gave you an idea when you would be grown enough to hear them. But now above all else you want to hear when she knew she was in love with him, because you think you’re falling in love with Elvis. 

Scratch that.

You know you are but you would give anything right now to be able to talk to somebody about it. And it’s upsetting that the person you usually talk your worries through is also one of your biggest ones at the moment. But even then you would have been willing to discuss it with her, if only she was willing to do so back.

It seems the more upset you become with her, the more comforting Elvis becomes to you. Even still you hesitate to share your fears with him until he is the one that broaches it. 

“What’s on your mind Honeybee?” he says as he draws circles along your hip. 

“Nothing much,” you dismiss. “Just trying to figure out when it's best to plant everything.”

His sardonic smile tells you he doesn’t believe you one bit, “C’mon darlin’ I know ya’ better than that.” Which is a bit of an understatement, as it feels like these days he’s able to read you better than you can yourself anymore. 

After letting out a long tired sigh, you tell him “I think she’s mad at me,” while you two were settling into bed. 

“Now who could ever be mad at my Honeybee?” he says, bringing you closer to him. 

“My mama,” you say solemnly, tears in your eyes. “She’s never replied to a single letter of mine, and I write to her everyday.”

“I’m sure she’s just busy,” he tries to comfort you. But they ring hollow knowing that she always used to say- something you even quoted her in your last letter- ‘I’m never too busy for you Rosebud.’ He pulls you close to his chest as he rubs his hand along your back, “Darlin’ your mama is a hard-headed woman- lord knows I got the scars to prove it- but I don’t think she could stay mad at you forever.”

“What?” you say, sitting up to face him fully.

“What?”

“What do you mean you have the scars to prove it?”

“O-oh…” he says with a slight grimace on his face, before giving a bit of an awkward chuckle. “We-well… ya’ remember before I left, I-I asked you to’ run away with us?” You nod your head slowly. “Well that night, when I went back to the farm to tell her… she… she had a bit of a fit.”

“That doesn’t answer my question E.”

His lips form a thin line, clearly reluctant to tell you more, but he does eventually cave with a long hard sigh. “She got so mad at the thought a you leavin’ she grabbed my hand somethin’ fierce, and… and… well…” he trails off as he presents you the palm of his left hand, where you can see some small jagged silvery lines along it. 

“She… she did this?” you whisper, lightly touching the scars, unbelieving that your Mama could do such a thing. She was the one who hardly ever raised her voice and didn’t even swat at Bees in front of you. How could she hurt him like this?

“I-I understand not wantin’ your kid to run away,” he says, “but I don’t think hurtin’ one like this was needed. But that wasn’t even the worst part of it.”

“What is it?”

“She… she banned me from ever comin’ back to the farm again. Couldn’t even say goodbye to ya properly,” he says somberly, his eyes sad as he tenderly cupped your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you say, at a loss for what else you could say knowing what you do now.

“You don’t got nothin’ to apologize for baby,” he says softly, holding your hand in his scarred one. “And listen Honeybee, if she’s so mad that she don’t wantcha back, you’ll always have a home here,” he promises before he gives you a kiss to your temple and turns off the light.

You know the words were meant to be comforting, but they have the opposite effect and make your stomach drop at the prospect that she may be that mad. It has never occurred in your mind that she may be that cross with you for leaving 

But like a fowl little seed, those words are implanted in your mind and take root. You wish he had never said those words, but you can hardly fault him for his attempts to console you in your hurt. 

Would she ever be so mad at you? You wonder to yourself. You feel Elvis hands wrap around your waist and you remember the marks your Mama left on him in a rage. And that was simply from the idea that you would leave. What would she do now that you've actually left? 

Elvis has never had a bad word to say about anybody, but you realize even he was being far more generous than was needed for what she had done.  All that over a stupid kiddy idea of running away?

You lay there for hours with the only sounds being Elvis’ steady breathing. The longer you’re awake the more you think about it, which fuels the vicious cycle as those thoughts make it harder  to fall asleep. Doubt creeps into your very soul that the  home you are so desperate to return to will even be there come spring, and you silently weep. 

But not as silently as you thought, as Elvis is awake within seconds. He holds you so close and so tight that it truly feels like he’ll never let go. 

“No matter what,” he whispers in your ear. “Your home will always be here with me, Honeybee.”

You’re touched by his words and the way he holds you makes you feel so safe now and you kiss him fiercely, and want nothing more than to be as close to him as possible.

Up until this point you had been reluctant to go that final step with Elvis, pretty much doing everything but that last act. As greedy as he could be with your body (given how many hours he’s spent with his head between your legs), he had asserted you would be the one to decide when you would cross that final line with him. Though from the tone of his voice each time he said it, you figured he was gunning for it to be sooner rather than later.

You don’t know what exactly it is about the idea that you may not have a home to return to that makes you want to attach yourself further to him. You want to forget about everything when you’re with him and he makes it easy to do so. Being with him makes you so happy in way you don’t ever think you’ve experienced on the farm, and you 

“Are ya sure sweetheart,” he groans, before his eyes snap shut as you rub your lower lips along his shaft, as you’ve done dozens of times before. 

“Yes,” you whine, wanting to feel him the way he was meant to be. 

When he finally slides into you, you can’t help the satisfied hum that escapes you, as he slides right into you. You’re on top and he lets you set the pace for yourself, which is good as even with all of your previous practice with him, you still need some time to adjust to the size of him up that secret channel of yours. 

You can see the sheer will power it’s taking for him to let you go your own speed, so once the pleasure overtakes the pain, without any more preamble, you begin to quicken your hips and ride him like your life depends on it. It may very well, considering the closer you get to you climax the more it feels like you may pass out before you get to that point.

“This right here,” he grons, rolling his hips up into you rubbing his thumb along that button of yours. “This is where home is.”

“Yes,” you sob, tears streaming down your face, “Home… you.” you cry, unable to finish as he hits just the right spot within and your vision is being blurred by stars.

You feel so whole as he spills within you, and with his now softened cock still snuggly within you, “I love you Elvis,” you sigh into his chest, content to fall asleep then and there, but you quickly realize your mistake as your words seem to reinvigorate him and he takes you a few more times until the crack of dawn. But between his filthy words and his declarations of love one thing he says sticks out to you the most. 

“Ain’t nothin’ ever gonna take you away now Honeybee,” he groans as you pick up the pace, his hand squeezing your bottom so tight, only further cementing how secure you are here. 

Slowly but surely you stop writing to your mother. What was something you previously did everyday, became every other week, to eventually once a week once February came. And even the ones you do send are limited to very basic and dry summaries of the week, as to what flowers you were focusing on and general questions as to how everybody else is doing back home. Gone are the days of you waxing poetically about your confusion over your feelings for Elvis and you plea for a single response from her. She’s shown her interest in your life, as well as shown how willing she is to be involved with it anymore so you decide to accept it, albeit with a heavy heart. 

The last time you expressed anything even remotely emotional with her was how you find it hard to think of the farm as being home anymore when she’s been so cold to you these last few months, and how you doubt you even want to go back. 

She doesn’t reply.

Elvis seems to take to his new role in your life surprisingly well. Always willing to help you through your emotional turmoil when he was home and shield you from the rest.

He seems to take great comfort in you as well, and the greenhouse has now even become a place away from all of it. When he’s home one of the first things he does is visit you there, and simply sit with you for a few hours. You think it’s mostly to serve as a breather between all the chaos that is his life outside of these glass walls, but you’re all too happy to help him in this way as he’s helped you. 

That feeling of perfection you got when you first shared that pomegranate with him, you feel it almost everyday in that greenhouse with him. The light shining through the panes of glass keeping the place warm, the fresh air coming from the sproutlings in their pots, his soft humming. All of it adding up to a dream you never want to wake up from.

The beginning of Spring came and went and neither of you brought up the fact that you were meant to be back at the farm. The most you do allude to it was you telling him to forward that final payment directly to your Mama, mostly as a last ditch effort to get her to finally respond to you for once. 

She doesn’t respond. 

You and Elvis decide then and there to wash your hands of her, though it was perhaps the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. But you can’t keep letting her silence break your heart so you focus all of your energy into two things: Elvis and making Graceland beautiful.

The first one is pretty easy to do considering when he is home, there is little to no distance between you two. He can hardly keep his hands off of you anymore when he’s here, with nights spent under the sheets, and days spent literally everywhere else on the property. He seems to be particularly fond of being in the Greenhouse, loving to see you so in your element in there only to bend you over your work table and take you hot and heavy from behind. 

These encounters only make you feel his absence even more, as while you’re not exactly alone in Graceland it does make the big property feel all the emptier. Which in turn makes your second focus all the harder.

You’ve by now planted any and all flowers you intended to and they are all well on their way to growing strong, and now knowing you’re going to be staying, you’re happy that you’ll be able to do so for years to come. Now that you’ve gotten past the most trying part, tending to them is going to be a cinch…

Or it would be if you weren’t so tired all the time.

Oftentimes you find yourself napping in the most inopportune places around the property. Sweet Pea has apparently appointed herself as your official protector while you rested outside and by extension roped Brutus and Snoopy into it as well. You can’t even begin to count the amount of times you would want to rest your eyes for a minute only to find hours had passed and three dogs at the ready to guard you from whatever may come. WHich considering how you’ve been feeling sicker and sicker lately what with the fever you’ve been feeling and the nausea you’ve been having some mornings. 

You don’t exactly understand why you’re far more sensitive to smell nowadays. You almost threw up the other morning from the smell of the eggs, which has Dodger and Miss Gladys looking very funny at you. You don’t pay it any mind though as you were just glad that you’re still able to appreciate the smell of flowers. 

You’re in a far better mood today, what with Elvis set to return later, you decided to leave a surprise in his office. The roses were in full bloom now, so you decided to pluck a few for old times sake and leave some for him. 

As you’re placing the vase down onto the desk, you watch as one of the blooms falls right off the stems and rolls to the other side of it. But when you go to pick it up, what you find is far stranger.

With the amount of fan mail he gets, you wouldn’t have paid the neat stack any mind if you hadn’t immediately recognized your own handwriting on the very top one. ANd you would have taken that as a very crazy coincidence if it weren’t for the fact that it also has your old address on the front. 

And it’s not just that one, you find a couple dozen envelopes with your handwriting and address on the front, and an unpleasant feeling fills your belly as you tentatively remove a page from the envelope. 

And it’s there that you read your own gut-wrenching words of your loneliness here and your wishes that your mother would write back to you. How you plead for her to reach out if only to reassure you that she’s alive and getting these letters. 

You had imagined that they had either been destroyed the moment your mother saw them or gathering dust somewhere in your old childhood home. But now you find them here, a place you know very few are even allowed to be. 

She didn’t get any of them you realize looking at the thick stack, an icky sense of violation creeping under your skin, seeing them worn and wrinkled in some places, but somebody definitely read these. 

You want to throw up, and not just because of your newfound sensitive stomach, but due to the revelation that if he didn’t send any of them, then that meant… he had seen you be upset to the point of crying over this, all the while blaming your Mama for it and letting you take comfort in him. 

Not only that, he read about your loneliness and actively decided to make you feel even more isolated by not letting you talk to your Mama. He held you as you cried over the fact she wasn’t talking to you and said nothing.

Your heart is pounding in your chest and you stagger back so far that you knock the vase full of roses right off the desk. You don’t pay it any mind and leave them and the letters where you find them. You have to get away, you have to go home. 

You don’t bother to grab anything (it’s all his anyway), you simply find Jerry and tell him that he has to take you back to Tupelo right now. He’s stuttering trying to make the usual excuses of why he couldn’t take you, but he’s weak to your tears, and he silently leads you to the car.

It’s a long silent trip save for your quiet sobs from the passenger side. You don’t know if he’s intentionally stalling or if the drive is truly this long, either way it feels like forever before you can finally breathe within the Lee County borders. 

You take comfort in the landmarks becoming more and more familiar until finally you see your home in the distance. You don’t take your eyes off of it for even a second, afraid it may disappear the moment you do so. You have a hard time believing it’s even real until you stand before the front door. 

You hold the doorknob hesitating to open it, fearful as to what you may find on the other side, but ultimately you know that there is no possible way it can be any worse than where you just came from.

It’s oddly shocking how nothing has really changed in the months you’ve been gone. It’s almost as though you just walked out minutes ago, but you yourself feel you’ve changed so much since you were last here. The furniture arrangement is the same, as are the books on the shelf, and even your Mama's house slippers are in their usual spot. 

You listen as someone is cooking in the kitchen, and you feel your heart warm knowing that at the very least you accomplished what you had set out to do and provide for your family, regardless of the sick feeling that work has left in your belly. 

“Kate that you?” you hear from the voice that has accompanied you your whole life. “I told all y’all to take the da-” she cuts herself off upon seeing you.

You almost don’t recognize her, the streaks of white in her hair, the fine lines in the corners and the heavy bags underneath her eyes, overall speak to the way your absence has affected her these last few months. You feel guilty for every unkind thought you’ve had of her all this time, as you can now see for yourself how much she missed you. She looks as though she’s aged ten years in the months you’ve been away, and you can only imagine how you’ve so drastically changed in her eyes.

But none of that matters in the moment, as she drops everything in her hands and proceeds to take you in her arms and sob uncontrollably. You meet her halfway weeping just as fiercly in her chest, you thought you had run out of tears during the drive, only to find a new spring, as she blubbers in your ear “my baby’s home.”

Even after some time had passed like that, you can’t even begin to form any semi-coherent sentence as you blubber over and over again your apologies for being gone for so long. She’s long since stopped her own tears in favor of comforting you which only makes you feel all the worse. 

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay,” she whispers, having long since stopped her own tears in favor of comforting you now. “You’re home now, Rosebud. Everything’s gonna be okay,” and guilt eats at you, that you could ever even entertain the thought that she wouldn’t want you back. 

You remain in that state for what feels like hours, with your head in her lap as she smooths down your hair and in spite of all the turmoil you’ve undoubtedly put her through, it’s clear your comfort is her priority. Eventually though she does gather up the courage to ask you where you’ve been this whole time. 

After all you’ve put her through you figure that she at least deserves the truth, so you sit up to face her. But before you can even open your mouth you hear the front door open. Any nominal contentment you’ve found being back home all slips away when you hear the familiar heavy footfalls of the man you’ve been dreading seeing all day.  

“There you are Honeybee,” Elvis says, leaning against the doorframe, the familiar rakish smile in place. Those words are so familiar yet now they feel foreign as you no longer recognize the man who utters them to you.  

It feels like in mere seconds your mama has brought you to your feet and now you stand behind her, and away from him. “What are you doin’ here!?” she shouts, her body tense and rigid, as though ready to defend you from a lion rather than a single man.

He hardly even glances her way, his eyes firmly set on you. “Here to take my Honeybee back home of course.” Your mama doesn’t even waste a second after hearing that, she only wordlessly approaches and takes a swing at him. But he was ready for that, as he easily catches her wrist, and brought her close to him “Ain’t so easy now I ain’t a runt no more?” he says, grinning ear to ear, a deadly look crossing his steely blue eyes.

This catches both of you off guard but your Mama is quick to recover and attempts to shove him right out the door with a mighty “Get outta my house!” 

“Not without her,” he says, unnervingly keeping his voice low and cool, as though he were still very much in control of the situation. 

He may still very well be, you think. 

Before you can even think to help your mama, he easily maneuvers around her only to walk straight towards your frozen figure and put an arm around your shoulder. 

“C’mon Honeybee,” he says, blatantly ignoring the tears streaming down your face. “Time to head home,” and you shiver when he runs his thumb along your cheek the way he’s done a million times before. You see your mama look wide-eyed at this familiar interaction, and to your horror so does Elvis. “That’s right you don’t know where she’s been,” he says, giving a faux innocent look while boldly admitting right in front of you he never sent any of those letters. “Why don’tcha tell her darlin’.” he declares, punctuating his familiarity with a kiss to your cheek. You don’t know what’s worse, the look of shock on your mama’s face as he does this, or the dissatisfied look he shoots you when you curl away from him.

Your mama doesn’t need to be a genius to figure out what he’s implying, as you watch her deflate as she looks at you and gives a very defeated “why?” 

“Mama,” you whimper, wanting nothing more than to go to her, but Elvis’ arms keeping you firmly in place. “We-we needed the money, after the fire and…” 

You stop yourself short as your Mama seems to contemplate your words, only to make some sort of realization of her own before, a look of horror slowly creeping onto her face. “It was you wasn’t it?” She seethes in a low voice. 

“What was?” he says, trying to seem innocent but unable to fully mask his amusement at her state.

“The fire…” she said in a small voice, not even daring to continue. 

No, you refuse to believe. Ain’t no way he would go that far, but then you remember Jerry’s skittishness when he learned you had a flower shop in Tupelo as well as his reluctance to deny you a single thing, that big favor he apparently did for Elvis to earn his shiny new Cadillac. All of it is making a lot of sense, but you’re still unwilling to go that far for a chance to be with you.

That is until he says, “Now that’s a mighty big accusation,” coolly, with a bit of a smirk as he looks down on her.  

You freeze in place at that line. That’s not a no, you think, somehow still wanting to lie to yourself. He steals a glance at you and his face softens as he holds your shoulders and looks earnestly into your eyes as he says, “Honeybee you don’t think I would ever do something’ like that, now would you?”

You have to think on that for a moment, and you’re quiet until his grip tightens ever so slightly and his face noticeably drops from earnest to frustrated. You swallow deeply as you give a very unconvincing “No, of co-”

“Get your hands off her,” your mama spits, ripping you away from him, but he’s persistent, callously shoving her to the ground and gripping your jaw in his ringed hand. 

“Because if it’s true,” he continues so softly even as the cold metal digs into your cheeks. “Then I wonder what else I’d be willin’ to do to keep ya,” he casually threatens a sadistic look in his eyes as a wide grin spreads across his face. 

You feel your throat close as he glances down at your Mama, who’s struggling to get off the floor. He lets you go and you’re able to bring her to a chair. You once thought she was invincible but now you see her trembling clearly shaken up by this whole thing. Whatever your mama had; money, influence, respect, Elvis had in spades. She’s effectively powerless against him, but she still finds the strength to angle herself in front of you to try to block him. 

She’s afraid of him no doubt about it, but she’s still willing to defend you with her life. 

Would he be willing to go that far? You think and you let out a sob knowing the answer already. 

“Choice is yours darlin’,” he whispers right next to your ear. “If you’re willin’ to choose.” and then he steps right out onto the porch. You hope in vain that somehow he’s decided to leave, but that quickly dies as you hear him strike a match and you smell the familiar miasma of his favorite cigars. 

He wouldn’t, you think, but you can no longer put anything past him. You don’t ever want to truly find out what he’d be willing to if it meant keeping you by him, especially not at your mama’s expense. But you know in your gut how you can protect her. 

If you have one thing to thank your earlier crying fits for, it’s that you’re tapped dry at this point, so as you say to her “Mama I gotta go now,” you can say it with a little bit of dignity. 

“No… no Rosebud,” she pleads with you holding both of your hands. “Please stay… we can figure this out,” she says, the tears welling up in her eyes, as she comes to the same realization as you do. 

“It’s gonna be okay Mama,” you vainly try to reassure her but mostly yourself. “But you gotta let me go,” you sob, wanting to do anything but. And you have to leave her crying in the home she made for you.

You find him leaning against the porch railing, eyes slowly opening as you move closer to him. “Yes Honeybee,” he says, cloyingly sweet, as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. 

“Elvis…please… just-just take me home,” you whisper, burying your face into his chest. 

“Course sweetheart, anythin’ for you,” he says, and you shudder knowing he means it. You walk away from the porch and you breathe a sigh of relief as he drops the cigar into the dirt and stamps it out. “I really oughta quit anyway,” he says. “Heard it’s bad for the baby.” 

“What?” you say, your blood turning to ice hearing that. 

“Ain’t it like magic Honeybee?” he sighs as you both get in the backseat of Jerry’s car, the owner of which is pointedly not looking at either of you. Elvis pays no mind to it, instead absentmindedly rubbing your lower belly back and forth. “You plant somethin’ so small, and it’ll grow up to be somethin’ else,” he sighs in contentment, and you close your eyes to yet another revelation that is coming far too late.

“But… but… you said, that it only happens when you’re married,” you say, though your spirit has long since been defeated. 

“Don’tchu worry none ‘bout that sweetheart,” he dismisses. “We are gonna get married real soon, and ain’t no one gonna be the wiser.”

There’s something so final in that revelation that you are now forever tied to him not by your own choices, but by his. He chose you. 

He knew what he was doing and he knew you didn’t. 

Looking back you don’t think there was ever anything within your control. What’s worse is that a part of you wishes you had never gone into his office today and could have lived blissfully, unburdened with the knowledge of what he was willing to do to get you. 

You love him, which makes this betrayal feel all the worse. You glance to the side to see the fields of flowers you’re leaving behind, as he slowly slips a ring on your finger. Now he’s not even gonna pretend that you have a choice in the matter, you are going to marry him because he said so. 

With his hand in yours you feel as the car transitions from the dirt road to the paved one that will take you far away from your home. 

You close your eyes and you don’t look back.

Alternate Summary: In which Elvis sees himself as a triumphant Orpheus when he’s actually a victorious Hades.

Taglist

@venus-haze​ @djsjs13949​ @ilovehobi101​ @butlerslut​ @richardslady121​ @giabelia​ @sydneyyyya @meetme0614 @tacozebra051​ @myradiaz​  @thelifes-world @maythesunshineagain @rakitirakiti @lostteenagetale​ @j-v-9-2  @eliseinmemphis​ @dkayfixates​  @immi547 @thatbanditqueen​   @marriedtoeddie​ @cuteejeno​ @itlover8000​ @isthlsfate​ @mgparker​ @thatbanditqueen​ @softsatnin​ @literally-just-elvis-fics​​ 

#Elvis #elvis presley #elvis 2022 #austin!elvis #yandere #yandere elvis #yandere!elvis #yandere!elvis x reader #yandere x reader #yandere austin!elvis x reader #austin butler #austin!elvis angst #austin!elvis fic #elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #austin butler x reader #smh #it's not showing up in the tags yet again #hadestown inspired #hadestown #hades and persephone #hades #persephone #orpheus #eurydice #istg #I'm so done with you tumblr

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! Male! Archpriest x gn! Penpal! Ill! Reader

OOOH I've been waiting for this guy. He's been planned ever since the start, and I finally got to write him! Enjoy the convoluted world building between him and the other yandere men of Saphiri!

BTW: Liviticus has always been one of my beloved OCs with quite the lore, so forgive me if it did get a bit too confusing hshadad he is a priest, but I am not confining him to our existing religions of modern society. So it's up to you which religion, may it be made up or not, he is serving. I think this is also the first time i'm explicitly telling the physical appearance of the yandere? I don't remember. But yeah!

Yandere! God name: Liviticus

TW: Reader has cancer, death

BE WARNED, THIS IS LONG... LIKE MY LONGEST FIC.

Liviticus Obelia has always been a pious man.

He had everything in his life. Money, a loving family, anything he wanted, needed, and more.

With his extravagant life with his rich family, he had always thought that he should return the blessings he got to the people. But he doesn't know how though. First of all, he's an awkward man. He doesn't know how to interact that much due to being an introvert, and people avoid him quite a lot due to his Family's financial status being at the 1 percentile. Second, he had always thought that social aspects of society is not needed for people like him who is independently content with themselves.

Those words coming from the 10 year old Liviticus while sniffling from being rejected by a group of friends made his eldest sister, Koh, roll her eyes and pat him on the head, and his little sister, Kaoeia, giggle.

So, he found himself burying himself in books in the library his father owns.

Sure, there are more child friendly books there, but what got his attention was theology books about different religions.

He would religiously read all of them, immersing himself in the mythos of the gods he's reading on it. Even those of the olden and forgotten. His eyes would sparkle whenever he reads a book about them, maybe a holy scripture, and now, 15 years later, he graduated from his theology course.

Seeing as this was a good opportunity to now return the blessings he got from god, he enters the holy church of the religion of his choosing.

He takes the oath, and was quickly becoming a beloved member of the church.

With how genuine he is with helping people and "repenting" about having too much in his life, it's no wonder people and his fellow church personnel love him.

That, and his angelic looks was something that added to the his popularity.

With his long, ash golden hair that softly drapes on his shoulders like waterfalls, his eyelashes that almost looks white on his smooth skin, and his amber eyes that looks gold in the sunlight, he looks like an entity not of this world at all.

Everyone felt so compelled to rely on Liviticus. With his tall stature and strong build, added with his soft and understanding personality that will make even the most of the martyrs jealous, he exudes an almost godly energy in him.

He's genuine with helping too. He's that much of a good man.

That means, a lot of people wanted to be his romantic partner.

But when asked, he would just smile that partially blinded those who asked.

"I am not ready for that yet. I have devoted myself in serving the people right now."

Oh, how pious he is.

If they only knew.

Liviticus, is seen as a man who is extremely devoted to the religion he's serving.

With how he is and his high rank in the church, it is no doubt that he's a man of virtue and holiness.

It was true. He is a pious man. Someone who's serving his god/s with the full extent of his efforts, heart, and soul. He's also genuine with helping people and repenting on having too much.

But Liviticus was nothing short of just putting up a facade of devotion to god/s.

In reality, he's interested in religion, sure, but not in the devoted vision. He's someone who looks at every religion as entertainment. Just like how people treat Greek Mythology as stories, he looks at all of religions like that. No matter how widespread and popular it is.

Even the religion and church he's serving is nothing more than work to him and an obligation to serve.

He treats them as mere stories that fascinated a lot of people to the point of mass fascination. Was all of these true? Did all of these stories written in the holy scriptures of the religions he studied actually happen?

If they're fictional, how did it capture the heart of a lot of people? Did the author intend for it to be so big and so... Religious? How did they feel? Was the sensational occurrence changed something in them?

And, if they're actually real...

Then,

How can he be a god himself?

In a weird twist, Liviticus was so enamored with the godly figures in the religions he read that he wants to become one.

As unreasonable as it is, he doesn't care.

He's too in his head to think rationally.

So, him serving the people went from a genuine guilt to feeling like it's an obligation, a task to become a god. After all, he wants to be the helpful type of god.

In his mind, it was a practice in order to serve his future devotees.

The reason why he wants to be one?

Well, other than being an archpriest, he was an author beforehand.

He had created a world inside his high end laptop just like how normal fantasy authors have.

But in his case, he as an author, is a character in it. Nay, an active role inside of it as if the world is real.

He had created Saphiri. A world in which there's new currencies, new languages, new magic infused technology, entities, and of such.

Every single detail is well thought out. He even had different folders for different aspects. Like the languages folder has more folders containing new words, letters, and numbers. Magic? New runes and inspired elemental systems. Currencies? He has made a vector art of the coins and cash, and how it circulates between different countries.

He's too meticulous that it was almost unbelievable.

And his proofreader and the only other person who reads his works?

It's you.

Liviticus was rarely seen outside of the church grounds.

And if he was outside, it's usually to visit his family, or...

Liviticus sighed in content, reading the newest addition to his world. It was a person (not character. He hates that term) named Eros. He's still a child, but once he got your approval, he will work on Eros' upbringing.

The elevator dings, signaling that he reached his floor.

Once the doors opened, the smell of the sterile environment of the hospital lingers on his nose. He hears the nurses, doctors, patients and visitors alike walking and talking amongst themselves.

Thanks to his friend, who is the hospital chairperson here, Xavier allowed Liviticus to move you to one of the private suites.

You and Liviticus met when his family got a penpal for him. They saw how he's struggling with connecting to other people, and suggested penpals.

You were not that far, at least two cities away. And you're the same age as him too. That made it easier to connect with you.

Because apparently, he's shy when it comes to in person connection. He felt awkward staring into other people since he always felt a wall between them, let alone connecting with them. So, a penpal was more or less a cry of help.

And it worked amazingly. He liked you a lot since you love writing, albeit not in the theological sense like he was. You're an amazing writer, and has a keen eye when it comes to looking at plotholes. So, he regularly sends small drafts and manuscripts along with the letter with you.

You are patient with him, always treating him with kindness that he never felt from other people. Even when he's being rude and aloof, you patiently broke his walls down and now he's attached to you.

Being his only friend, he shared a lot of things to you. His desire to be god, the questions about religions, etc. He felt safe with you. You weren't judging him, and always answered his questions with a critical, neutral eye. Yet these replies still held the softness and friendliness he took comfort in.

Liviticus longed to see you in real life, but you weren't exactly as blessed financially as him. Sure, he's only two cities away, but your family didn't really want you going out and buying tickets or buying gas just to meet a penpal. He yearned to see your face finally, to see your face in real life and hold you close.

He wants you so bad that it's almost painful to breath. You were the only one who understood him. Even his family didn't understand him that much.

So, he took this yearning to another level.

Seeing that you were so nice to him, he decided to adapt your personality in real life. Gentle, kind, friendly... Someone who's easy to talk to and is incredibly patient and heartfelt. Helpful and genuine, Liviticus felt closer to you as he took your characteristics as his own. It felt like you were there with him.

And, years passed by...

Finishing his degree and finally having the time and permission of his family, he drove his newly bought car to your city just to find you.

His heart pounding, he found your address that you told him years ago, and saw you on the stairs of your home, sitting and writing something on your lap.

A letter. His letter.

He smiles and runs outside of his car to meet you, hugging you without any warning that freaked you out.

But, when you saw who he was, you grinned widely and hugged him back.

The rest is history...

But why is he in the hospital in present day, looking despondent while slapping his face to gather courage?

Two years within meeting you in real life, Liviticus regularly visited you. Spending time with you and getting to know you more in a personal level.

But, heated glances and affectionate gazes weren't lost. Both of you were two hearts beating in sync, as if the world intended the both of you to be together. It was a natural pull, and if the concept of soulmates were real, you were his, and he was yours.

A kiss on the lips on your birthday, Liviticus' mind slipped from trying to become god momentarily.

He's so happy just being by your side.

But then...

When he had to train to serve the church he chose, he had minimal contact with you. But, despite not having a label yet, he knew you would wait.

You would wait, right?

Then, one day, his phone rang. It felt weird, since it was already 3am, but he answered it.

He found himself feeling like heaven fell on him as the phone dropped to the floor, cracking the protector on it. He grabbed his coat and ran to his car to your house, almost violating road laws on the way.

You suddenly collapsed that night while trying to drink water. Your stomach felt so painful, like it was eating you inside out. You were so pale and white, and with a trembling body, you collapsed on your kitchen, being found by your mother who got startled awake.

When you were rushed to the hospital, you were found to have colon cancer.

It was almost too much for you, making you wonder what you did wrong to deserve such an ailment on your body.

And Liviticus felt like it was cruel. Too cruel.

You were so good and sweet, so why did you get such a dangerous and life threatening condition? And at such a late stage too?

Then and there, Liviticus truly questioned everything.

If god/the gods is/are real, then why were you being tested like this? You didn't do anything bad at all. You can't hurt a fly, so why hurt you?

Is this punishment due to him questioning their existence? Is this a cruel revenge due to him being preposterous and daring to be god? Is this an unfair judgement on a person that has nothing to do with him being unholy?

He might as well be swallowed by hell than seeing you cry your eyes out with such painful wails of agony.

He forced insisted on footing the bill. You and your family were adamant, but he insisted. His family was willing too, seeing as they had the money to spend and that you were also loved by them. And, you were transferred to his city to monitor you closely and closer to the best doctors out there.

He regularly visited you, always making sure to treat you like usual. Reading manuscripts and making you judge them. He tried to be cheerful. He really did.

But, seeing you getting weaker and weaker everyday was painful. You looked tired, but still carried a smile to comfort him as he kisses your hand.

And everyday, he got more and more desperate praying to gods to forgive him for being preposterous. He wants you to be healed, or even just transfer the sickness to him.

Anything at all.

He did all of these good things, and forgot his want to be god, just to appease those up above.

Suddenly, he became religious.

But it was not enough.

He numbly stands outside your door. The doctors and nurses were desperately trying to wake you up. But your limp body didn't respond at all.

You were dead.

Everything became a blur to him.

One thing, he's calling your family, then him consoling them, his family consoling him, then picking your coffin, and then now he's leading the funeral, blessing your coffin as you got buried in a mausoleum.

He only snapped out of his trance when he's kneeling in front of your grave, in the dead of the night, with only the moon and candles illuminating him. The wind was still, so was the night. It's as if letting him snap out of his mind.

His lips trembled, and in his priest garments, he shuffled close to your grave and hugged it, tears silently streamed down his face as he cried without a noise.

Everything felt so... Dull.

He did everything for the gods to forgive him, but they didn't. If they were real, then they would see his repentance, right?

But now, all he could do is weep. His heart torn apart as it got buried alongside you.

If you wish, he wants to be buried along you too.

Then, anger came.

Why can't they see it? Why can't they see that he's doing his best for them to forgive him? Why were you dead? You were innocent in all of this! You were only indulging his sins and was not directly mocking them! Is this his punishment? To break his heart this greatly?!

Is it not enough to shatter him, but you too?!

You had so much to live for! You were an excellent writer, and had plans to publish your book!

And...

"I.. I didn't even get to court you properly..." He wept, shakily taking a breath.

He pressed his sweaty forehead on your picture, tears still silently falling as he placed a chaste kiss on your face.

He got home that night, and left an email to the church that he's quitting.

He can't kept pretending to be okay.

Rotting in his bed on the days passed, he wished and longed to be in your arms again. To touch you, feel you once more.

Maybe, it will be a good idea to do something to distract him. You won't like it seeing him so miserable, and he needed to make you proud even if you were in the afterlife.

Trudging to his desk, his once Luscious ash blonde hair was dull, and his white eyelashes were permanently wet. His amber eyes dark and lost of sheen, he looked at the Saphiri folder in front of him before opening another document.

With shaky hands, he finally wrote his document. His role as god in that world.

He wrote in which he's someone who desired to be god to entertain his lover, y/n. He created this world solely for you, and just you. He wrote that he came from a world called Earth, and that is ascension to godhood was to see if he can meet you again. He wrote that he got transmigrated to this world, and had the godly powers like a worldbuilding author. And that he had more than enough power to pull your soul back to life in that world.

He finished writing by 4am, and he got to his bed with a small smile on his face.

Not knowing that what he wrote birthed to a world where he's ascended to godhood.

When he woke up, he's in an endless void of an opal sheen, and he was floating in the middle of it.

His heart pounded, looking down at his outfit.

A white cloth draped over him to look like a robe, and a gold anklet.

"Where am I?"

The void in front of him rippled, and he flinched before gasping.

A tear in front of him appeared, and it was overlooking a planet so green and blue, like earth but different...

Somehow, this felt natural.

He raised his hand and tried to "zoom in". And just as expected, the "screen" zoomed in, making him look over what seems like an old England inspired Empire, but he can see differences.

Magic.

In awe, he looked and watched as people and different types of creatures, familiar and new interacted with one another. He's beginning to be entertained until he heard the newspaper boy yell.

"Saphiri news! Saphiri news! The Crown Prince Yuno had a scandal! A mistress? What happens to his fiancee?!"

Saphiri?

His heart pounded as he tried to do something more.

"F-find Duke Eros."

And, in command, the screen flew up high and went to a majestic chateau.

There was a man, also in early 20's, talking with his soldiers with a frown on his face.

It is Saphiri. His creation.

He stumbled back, but only got to sit in a chair that materialized behind him.

"Oh god..." He muttered, eyes wide with disbelief.

He did it. Godhood.

He became a god.

Not just any god, but the god of his own world.

He scoffs in disbelief, still in shock as he slowly internalized what's happening.

"No way..." He smirks, a bit excited, before remembering where the hell he was.

"Shit... Um, home?"

And indeed, another rip in the void happened. There's his room, just outside of the rip.

This was surreal.

He closed the void by running his hand down on the void.

He tried to remember what happened, but all he could remember now was...

"Y/n."

He gulped. He remembered writing down that he should have enough power to make you alive here.

So, he closed his eyes and puts his hand forward.

"Y/n, come back to my arms, please."

And slowly, light sprites danced around him, making his eyes shot up and look in wonder as it, your feet, materialized in front of him.

In an agonizing speed that drained his energy, he focused on bringing your soul to him. Sweat trickled his forehead as you appeared slowly, bit by bit.

And once you fully materialized, you fell down, making Liviticus catch you.

He caught the familiar whiff of the cologne you use, before you got admitted to the hospital. Your being overwhelmed his senses, as he found himself crying again.

"Y/-y/n?" He whispered, making you stir.

Oh god...

"Liviticus?" You whispered, eyes slowly blinking open.

He desperately hugged you tighter, sobbing loudly on your neck.

He missed you so bad.

"You're alive! Oh god you're alive..." He painfully said out, the hiccups making him seem like a lost child.

You were also in disbelief. You swore you died, but here you are, hugging Liviticus in a weird white robe. You wanted to question everything, but seeing Liviticus cry in your arms was enough to make you shut up and just sooth him, smiling and grateful to be alive. You weren't in pain anymore, and that's enough.

Liviticus explained the situation to you, and you were amazed. He became a god? And he revived you?

You felt so flustered and grateful once more. If it weren't for him, you're still dead. And, even if you were dead, you didn't get to thank him when he took care of you back in earth.

Speaking of, you tried to go back to Earth, but it's as if a barrier was placed when you tried to enter the rip. But you were satisfied here already, in this void with him.

Slowly, the void got filled with a small pocket dimension only the both of you knew. A light blue sky with a night and day cycle, cute creatures that both of you wrote about now came to life, a valley filled with familiar and new flora, and a small, cozy house on top of a hill.

It's as if you were watching a movie as you watch him affect Saphiri. He pulled a person from Earth and made him appear on the throne of the Emperor. He became Aeron.

You were shocked at the twists when Aeron became a Demon King, and be obsessed with his darling.

You also got invested in the love story of Duke Eros and his darling. The way both him and her curbstomped the shitty crown prince Yuno was amazing, and it made you hoot and holler like you're watching a soap opera.

And Callisto.

The fact that Liviticus made Callisto self aware was a twist you didn't expect, and after sending Callisto back, you tackled Liviticus and gushed about how insane it was.

Liviticus grinned, hugging you back and kissing your forehead.

He loves seeing you so happy and entertained.

But that's the thing.

Now, he's the one treating the world he created as if it was still a document on his computer. Forgetting they're real people that had lives of their own. And not just mere characters on paper.

He became the thing he detested back then.

Foolish gods who're just blindly putting unjust punishments for their own good, entertainment, or want.

Thousands of lives under this god who only has one goal, and it's to entertain naive you, who also shared his outlook that these people, this world is just something that they can mess with.

But who cares?

Liviticus is god.

And you were his deity, his soulmate.

You want to ruin Saphiri? Sure. Why not. Want it prosper? He'll do it.

The world is putty in his hands, and he's putty in yours.

So who is really in charge here?

But all you should know is that this omnipresent being is at your beck and call, so pull him closely. You don't know what he won't do for you.

Yandere! Male! Omnipresent! God x Reincarnated! Deity! gn! Reader

#lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere writing #yandere imagines #yandere boyfriend #yandere male #tw yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic

[patheticpaprika]

Goncharov: Fandom's Struggle Between Fanon vs. Canon and How That's Created A Mythos Rivaling The Greeks

A tag ramble to this post that got away from me and became too long to feel okay putting in the tags lol. It can be easily read as a stand alone though.

It's absolutely FASCINATING to me being able to both watch and participate in the Goncharov (?)fandom(?). It's taking everything that fandom culture is and letting it run free without any barriers to stop it.

Because frankly, I can't think of anything (to my knowledge) quite like it in recent history to reach such a scale. Both the ability to write stories down and the rise of copyright have had a significant impact on the way stories are told. We went from a storytelling culture that slowly evolved each story told by the person telling it, to one that is very close-handed to the narratives created.

And yes, to some extent, this twisting and evolving still happens in fandoms to the point that fanon and canon can become so separated it feels jarring. But that's just it isn't it? There always remains the canon. That will always be the true story. Fanfiction will forever be fanfiction, no matter how much we want it to be "real." You can whittle away at the narrative to shape it into something more appealing, but it will always be stuck as a block of wood.

Yet, the very fact that fanon exists proves that we never lost that want to change stories and make them a little bit our own. All that we lost was the medium to do so. Evolve something too far, and it won't be the same, will it? We're stuck in the confines of "canon."

I have seen fanfiction of fanfiction before, but it tends to quite quickly pitter out without its own foundation to stand upon. More can be added to the universe, but what's there does not change. It does not evolve the way a story passed down orally does; in a story spoken, the canon is forced to slowly change by the memory and style of the speaker. A classic game of telephone.

Goncharov however? There is no original story; there is no true canon. Not only is the story evolving freely from storyteller to storyteller, but the only reason there is even a coherent story in the first place is that there are multiple storytellers weaving the tale at once yet also expecting you to fill in the gaps.

It's like we're all playing that one writing game where each person writes a sentence back and forth to create a story. Yet, instead of you and one friend, we're playing it on this gargantuan sitewide scale that can't possibly all be connected into a singular coherent narrative. But you're not supposed to be able to. Each person can choose what they want to know it as. It's like some big giant exploratory choose-your-own-adventure book. The framework is there, but it's going in 50 different directions and you can always add another one in just for fun. You discover the story as you read, but only the bits you like get added on.

It's fucking incredible.

We all see each piece of media through our own personal lenses but never like this?? Not to this extent. We're all collectively joining together to obsess over the little ideas in our heads we got from each other's prompts and are excitedly spewing them regardless of how contradictory they are. We do something similar brainstorming with others but not with 12k messages in a single day.

Would this have even been possible before the rise of social media? Not to mention the strong sense of community Tumblr has that is so rare to see with such a large amount of people. There's more people than you could ever know on this site but we all act like some deranged extended family. Yes, people can work together but so rarely do people that vary so greatly in personality and life experiences, get together in such larger numbers to do a little silly goofy CREATE AN ENTIRE STORY THAT DOESN'T EXIST.

We pull shenanigans like this all the time. But this time it's not like eeby deeby or even the mishapocolyse; this time we're seeing the power of an entire community working together to create not only layers and layers of memes but layers of memes shaping an entire mythos. It's like we're the Greeks thinking up stories of our gods but instead it's a homoerotic mafia movie from 1973 written by Matteo JWHJ 0715 and Martin Scorsese that all started with a picture of a shoe.

We have stumbled across something fascinating and new. This may not be the first mafia movie that's been thought up and played around with but this is absolutely the first to be created by thousands of people working together but also towards their own individual goal/story. We're seeing the power that created mythology being wielded by fandom culture, and it's letting it evolve like no other story has.

It's free from the confines of prescribed canon, but there is so much being created that can be canon if you want it to be. This isn't changing one by one like some spoken tale towards exponential growth either. This has been created like one spectacular big bang. We had a funny post of a boot, and then we had a poster and that was enough to make Tumblr go collectively insane. (Not that we weren't already.) I want to (politely) shake all of you by the shoulders till everyone realizes how crazy this all is.

This story is ours, all of ours. Goncharov (1973) is held together by the power of belief and love for it. We have fragments of canon, yes, but it only exists because we want it to. And God-damn it, I hope we do it again. Together we can create things that we'd never thought could exist (and in this case still doesn't).

-We- are strong. Please never forget that.

As it now 6am and I have not slept, I will leave you with a quote; Goncharov's final solemn plea as he slowly bled to death, for I feel it's in an odd way rather fitting.

"What is the dust but a remnant of what we once were, all around us coated with it.

But we brush it away in search of something else. Not everything that mattered once matters now.

Yet you seem to think that's the only way, just keep dusting it.

You never stop to think that some things we search for might not be worth keeping.

Nothing has meaning unless we continue to think it does.

So please... I beg of you, can't we just move on and let this sickening contempt between us dissolve into dust?"

#goncharov #goncharov (1973) #meta #goncharov meta #fandom culture #fanfiction #paprika's pantry of posts

[axl-ul]

Writeblr (Re)Introduction

Hello! After some time of being inactive, here's a small reintroduction from me:) And I also guess that this is the exact aesthetic I aimed for. Finally!

General info:

(Nick)Name: Axl-ul, but you can address me as Axl^^

Likes: Writing, reading, drawing, crochet, mythologies and folk stories, tea, doggos, cattos, battos (majority of animals that are fluffy)

Stuff I like to listen to: an ENORMOUS range that goes from og dubstep to chillstep to metal to edgy yeehaw dark country (among my fave artists are Bonobo, Nujabes, Burial, Hugo Kant, Sigmun)

Favourite movie: Noroi, The Vanished Empire

Favourite show: Mononoke (2009) it's actually an anime and yes I do consider it a show, Red Dwarf

Favourite book(s): The Witcher saga (Season of Storms was a little bit mid in comparison to the rest, still enjoyed it though), Solomon Kane, The Hobbit, Whiskey, Blood and Silver, The Warlock, Journey to the West (still reading it)

Favourite manga: anything by Junji Ito, Berserk

Favourite games: The Witcher trilogy, DreadOut, Condemned: Criminal Origin, TES V: Skyrim (also slowly getting into Oblivion), Sleeping Dogs, Darkwood, anything made by Fromsoftware (a fanboy)

Favourite genres: horror, mystery, (dark) fantasy, comedy

Favourite tropes: animal companion, found family, rivals to best friends

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Writer info:

Genres I write in: horror, mystery, dark fantasy inspired by world mythologies, dark comedy, my wips might have a touch of detective stories to them, too^^

Tropes I use(d): found family, animal companion, rivals to best friends, rivals to friends to lovers (used only once as I don't like romance that much, why it appears in my wips is a looong story), orphaned MC

POV: 3rd person, multiple POVs with main focus on 1 to 3 characters max

I tend to write in quite a flowery language and in poetic prose, but since English isn't my first language it can come across slightly awkward (TL; DR I do plenty of updates and edits to my posted stuff)

My wips are inspired and sometimes directly refer to a certain mythology, such as Slavic (this one is also most widely used as I like to read local legends of Serbia, Russia, the Czech and Slovak Republic, Ukraine, Poland and so on), Chinese, Nordic, Japanese and Indonesian. HOWEVER I love to create my own mythos and so the world is a blend of characters directly based of a mythological figure exploring environement both familiar and completely new to them. (I've always been intruiged by a question what would happen if world mythologies bumped into each other and what would be the consequences of it.)

My own mythos are pretty much eldritch-like oriented with a significant touch of folk horror. I'm not going to lie, I'm a FromSoftware fanboi, I see Bloodborn or Kuon, I'm going feral and so is my inspiration.

There are many occuring themes about substance abuse, addiction, health issues, gore, extreme violence, sexual assault/rape and other strongly 18+ stuff, so I'd appreciate if only 20+ y.o. people (or be at least 18, really) follow this account. In other words - PLENTY OF NSFW THAT'S NOT DIRECTED AND INTENDED FOR MINORS.

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WIPs

Not all from my wips have a proper introduction (a.k.a. there's no link for their Tumblr WIP intro). BUT I do plan on doing them, so expect the links to be updated. These are just quick summaries of them.

The Flight of the Western Crane - A dark retelling of Journey to the West where Sun Wukong tries to protect the young Buddhist monk Tang Sanzang while meeting a duo of a stranded Princess of the Great Tiger Kingdom and her foreign advisor Lady Wolf Witch. Their common journey starts out as an innocent one. However, it soon evolves into a dangerous chase where the Monkey King must face the worst of his opponents.

City of False Gods - Hybrid of wuxia, mystery and film noir genres set on a fabricated island near Hong Kong. The fiction evolves around the Monkey King who's, after his yet another imprisonment, woken up to a strange world of 1920s where his powers are under a radar by the local supernatural cop unit and is forced to live among the poorest while trying to solve strange happenings in the city. City of False Gods also serves as a sequel to The Flight of the Western Crane.

Empire of Dust - Historical dark fantasy with horror elements set in 330 Constantinople. The story follows two little sisters one of whom is considered neither dead nor alive. One day, Ulfrika sets out for a strange task in order to provide for her dear little sister. Her pure-hearted intention, though, may lead her down the rabbit hole which may devour her sanity.

Ratpeople - An outline idea for a standalone story involving Ulfrika and her time in the Wild West, where the soulless hybrid discovers an eerie town in the desert while chasing after a man who stole one of her horses. The story is related to weird western (mostly its horror and fantasy elements and no sci-fi stuff) and mystery genres and also mythology related things.

Boy Who Chased a Dragon - Another outline story outside the universe of The Legends of No-man's Land. The story takes place on an island of eternal summer and flower bloom, where mythical creatures live peacefully. One day, Dado* loses his pet dragon, a creature his sister gave him for his 8th birthday, in a harsh storm. Now, he sets out for a long journey to retrieve his best friend from the claws of the cruel Ember King.

*because this is still in a process of an outline/1st draft, I'm still not sure about the name, it's only a working name for the protagonist

#writeblr #writeblr community #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #writeblr introduction #writeblr intro #writeblr reintro #writeblr reintroduction

[professoruber]

(a kinda late) Happy New Years All! | ProfessorUber’s Year of the Bat(-Family) | Aka time to actually read these comics!

My semi-belated New Years Resolution is to read through a bunch of classic (and modern) runs on various Bat-Family members to get semi up to date on the who mythos.

Am I getting into it a bit late? Perhaps. To be fair; the pandemic + university has left me with little time/energy over these past few years. But lately I’ve been getting into Batman comics and I wanted to continue to that.

I’ve seen a few reading guides but will mostly just go at my own pace/order and just enjoy the ride I think. Current focus though I think is Tim Drake’s Robin (1993-2009) to see more of early Tim and Steph and afterwards probably Cass’ Batgirl run. Also going to be looking into Oracle stuff as well.

There’s a lot of comics out there and maybe this is a tad daunting; but I’ve also been enjoying these characters and the fandom surrounding them. Wayne Family Adventure really helped me get into this weird found family of vigilantes, so maybe now it’s time to learn their roots.

So I think it’s worth the time, even if I kind of wish I did this sooner (but again; there’s been a pandemic going on so been distracted).

So I am joining the Bat-Family Fandom! Probably! Hopefully! Got lots of comics to read first though…

Wish me luck!

(Although honestly my main New Year’s resolution is probably to write more. But reading Batman comics is a close second,)

Happy 2024! Hope it goes well for all of you! I hope you all stay safe and healthy.

(Just hope I’m not too late to the Bat party to join in on the fun!)

#new years resolution #happy new year #robin 1993 #tim drake #Stephanie brown #timothy drake #robin #batman #batgirl #cassandra cain #batfamily #Batman #bat-family #wayne family adventures #Barbara gordon #oracle #Wish me luck please! #Got plenty of comics ahead me #But like I said #i think it’s worth it #And it should be enjoyable #Just had a bit going on but I want spend 2024 experiencing more stuff and participating in more things #I’m still young and got lots of time ahead #So time to use it instead of wallowing in anxieties #I guess that’s what I want out of 2024 #Enjoyment and looking to the future #Stop worrying about what “I should have done” and just do it #Take care all!

[mar-ginalia]

Whoa, this book! I read it in two days and now I feel… some kind of way.

Some chaotic impressions (and mild spoilers):

It’s giving American Gothic + Gaiman + Night in the Woods + Beauty and the Beast + Haunting of Hill House + all these prestige American TV series about quaint little towns where everyone is hiding something ugly + that song by Hozier about decomposing together in the woods

Who’s the villain: beasts, vengeful women, evil capitalists, well-meaning family members, regular people, bigots? ALL of them?

Loved the main character. Opal is not a Strong Female CharacterTM. She’s a scrappy survivor, thief and liar because she knows no other way, but there’s plenty of kindness in her. Bonus points for crooked teeth

Depictions of the broken American Dream: lack of health insurance & super expensive asthma medication (as always, reading stuff like this is disturbing for a European, to say the least), oil companies getting away with polluting people & planet etc.

I love it when there’s a made-up book as the hook of the story + an entire mythos surrounding it.

A+ Beauty and the Beast-esque romance, but she’s no beauty and he’s not really a beast. Just two lonely people martyring themselves because they think that’s the right thing to do & expected of them

The House is a character in its own right. Love it when Arthur pats it like it's a pet <3

I loved the many versions of the House’s story and how they differed depending on who told it. Wealth, race & bias all played a role. In the end it all tided neatly together to give a satisfactory resolution

The end part dragged a bit and felt a bit too whimsical, perhaps because for the most part the story was very grounded in reality and “real-life problems”

Harrow’s prose feels too baroque-y at times but it fits the genre and the vibe. It was my second encounter with her books. I DNFed The Once and Future Witches pretty early on, but now I feel inclined to try something else of hers

Stand-alone – yay!

tldr: distrustful, traumatised characters looking for a home; spooky vibes; engaging, layered story; tons of feels & a bonus hellcat

#alix e. harrow #starling house #mar reads books #mar reads books in 2023

[songsofadelaide]

Meet me in the Afterglow

Five lifetimes where you and Aki Hayakawa almost kissed and one where you did.

[A Hayakawa Aki x Reader one-shot]

tags/cw: csm manga spoilers, 5+1 things, canon-compliant events, soulmates, family death, suicide ideation, major character death, alternate universes - bridgerton, the godfather, greek mythos, no use of yn wc: 4.8k

"before all this and everything else, before the apocalypse, I do so sincerely wish, though my words may not fit, to rest my head in your hair and kiss your lips." — Kiss, Indran Amirthanayagam

— Some lunatic. (1997)

No one in their right mind would pursue Devil Hunting as a serious career. Those entering the Public Safety Organization as Devil Hunters were either forced into it by their circumstances, seeking the thrill of the chase or just straight up mental— Just like you, some lunatic with a death wish you might just get sooner or later. 

When Captain Kishibe told you he received direct orders from Miss Makima for your transfer to the reinforced Tokyo Special Division 4, the ordeal set your heart racing. When death first came for your family in the form of an attack by the Gun Devil, you soon expected to follow them out of sheer delusion and desperation.

The whole locking yourself in a spare coffin thing didn't work since you were eventually pried out of it by the Devil Hunters. People who encountered devil attacks and lived to see the day were a special kind, and some of them were disillusioned enough by the loss in their lives that they decided to heed the call of madness, heroic sentiment blocking any hope of common sense prevailing. 

Public Safety preyed on that madness. You let them. 

Here we are, another step closer. 

"Gh! Watch it, Otome-san!" 

Unfortunately, every step towards death had been thwarted by your senior colleague, Hayakawa Aki. Every mission you declared would be your last always concluded with you being saved by the man. 

"Hayakawa-senpai! Y-Yoummfff—"

This one was no different. 

Separated from the rest of the squad with no means to protect yourselves other than watching each other's backs, you figured now would have been the most perfect time to die. The devil you formed a contract with would revel in your death and perhaps make its home in your body, too. Then you'd be just like Power. Or Denji. Or just dead like you intended. 

But how could you? Aki's hand was over your mouth and his figure was pressed against your own as you attempted to conceal your presence from a devil of still-unknown abilities.  

Was it just you or the corridor you both slipped into was getting narrower and narrower? The taller man now had his knee between your legs, bracing himself on the wall that was seemingly collapsing in on you both. Your faces were only seconds apart from colliding. 

Aki released his grip from your mouth, his palms moist with bits of your dribble. 

"S-Senpai, this is obviously the work of a devil," you started. Space Devil, you thought to yourself. "Unlike you, I have no means to protect myself. I'm only going to drag you down. You should just leave me… I'll—"

A sharp tsk left Aki's lips. He now held you by the chin, blue eyes unclouded as he reasoned out with you. Surely he would have noticed by now that you were looking for a place to die, that you were looking to die, and you wanted every mission you undertook with him to be your last, but how could he bring himself to just leave you behind?

Not after having shared after-mission meals with you. Not after having spent afternoons basking in the sun and cigarette smoke and silly little hopes that both of you will live to see the end of the year and celebrate a new one. This here was a man who had lost nearly everything he held dear in his life. He wasn't losing anyone again, not if he can do anything about it.

He spoke the words as though breathing life back into your lungs with how close you now stood. "No, you damn lunatic. What makes you think I'm leaving without you?" 

— Unbecoming of a Lord (Mayfair, London, 1813)

When your "papá" Kishibe told you he would let you off the hook for good if you were to attend even one ball for this season, you considered yourself sold to the idea of freedom. Evening balls and promenades weren't really your thing, but as a daughter of the esteemed Captain Kishibe, you were expected to leave your mark on high society and maybe earn a suitor or two. 

You expected your "little sister" Power to enjoy such occasions, and even "younger brother" Denji, who despised dressing up because everything itched, still adhered to Kishibe's rule of presenting oneself to the high society at least once in their life. Tonight would be the first and last time you do so. If you had to put on your dress and stand in the corner all night for only the gods know how long, you didn't mind at all— so long as you never had to attend a single ball afterwards.

So the invitation to dance surely caught you off-guard, but maybe you should have expected it since you were one daughter of a Captain who also happened to be a popular relationship broker. 

"May I have this dance?" Asked the taller man, his long dark hair neatly kept in a blue silk ribbon. As you searched for your father from across the room, you caught him nodding back at you, voicing his quiet approval as he took a sip of this evening's wine in his hand. The customary curtsy was granted to the man as you gave him your hand, which he brought to his lips reverently. 

You were certain the whole ton had their eyes on you as you took the centre of the ballroom with one of your father's favoured subordinates, the young Lord Aki Hayakawa. He was a cool and aloof man, yet cutthroat in missions, as your "papá" mentioned before, but the pressures of high society had yet to leave traces on his finely chiselled face.

Aki has yet to speak a single word to you after asking for your hand to dance. His hand was warm even over the silk of your gloves, further proof that he was a living, breathing being and not some phantom that people made him out to be. The sound of the piano filled your ears as you were tenderly swept alongside his pace, your fingers gently clutching the shoulder of his cobalt blue coat. 

"Diamond," he finally spoke, his voice deep and intimate. You could almost hear a laugh, too. "That is what they call the loveliest girl here, right?" 

You paced yourself, counting in your head and mirroring his footwork so as to not miss a beat. 

"I'm afraid to disappoint you, my lord, but I'm no diamond. I'm merely a girl," you gently shook your head. "The Queen must have named her diamond already."

It was Lady Makima, surely.  

"Y…" You murmured, lips quivering as he drew you closer to his person. The way his breath ghosted over your lips was maddening. "You do know the way you hold me is unbecoming of a lord…"

The tender sound of the music filled your ears along with the rush of blood as you felt the pads of his warm fingers rest on your bare shoulder blade.

"My apologies if I offended your sensibilities. I am simply so enamoured by you now that I've met you," he chuckled. "Captain Kishibe said you despised these balls even though this is your first one." 

"He… Papá is right about that," you fumbled for words even further. "Everything is just so… exhausting, to say the least."

"I can do you a favour if you would like. A way for you to no longer have to attend these gatherings," he replied, a glint of mischief playing in his piercing blue eyes that you suddenly couldn't look away from. "Receive me as a suitor."

What?

"S-Surely, you jest!" You unexpectedly laughed at his remark before eventually pursing your lips in embarrassment. "My apologies, my lord, I… I suppose you can visit me at our home. Papá and I would be happy to receive you." 

"You would be doing me a tremendous favour as well, my lady," he said, a wave of relief washing over his face. "I, too, no longer wish to attend any of these… social gatherings in the near future." 

"My apologies. I would just… like to know why someone with a face like yours no longer wishes to take part in any more of the Queen's balls." 

"What is it about my face that you find so intriguing?"

"Because you are absolutely attractive," you replied.

"As are you," he said right back at you. "Now, unless you accept the assistance of a fellow homebody, I'm positively certain more dances will be asked of you once I let you go." 

He was right about that, for not only women waiting for their turn with him, but men were gathering around you, too, just waiting for the opportunity to swipe you from the handsome young soldier's arms.

"I am glad to be of help then, my fellow homebody," you started, another small laugh cracked through your smile. "I am looking forward to making your acquaintance."

— You’d Be So Nice to Come Home To (New York, 1955)

In the war of the five families, little songbirds like you should have been happy in their gilded cages. This was a men's game, after all, and if someone like Sonny Corleone perished at the hands of his enemies, what more pretty women like you? Only collateral damage.  

The eldest son of Don Vito was known for his impulsiveness, and he was surely warned that his hot-bloodedness would be the death of him one day. With the kingpin shot off the board, the tides of war shifted, and even the bedridden Corleone patriarch rose from his rest to call for an end to the ceaseless fighting disturbing the already fragile peace sustained only by a fraying thread in the underground.  

With the death of Don Vito and the accession of his youngest son as the new Don of the Corleone Family, the tides of the underground have shifted once more, and you were determined to survive with all the fight you had in you. 

Old man Tessio made sure you and the girls were all fed and educated in the ways of how his club was run, but they disappeared into Barzini hands one by one until only a handful of you were left. The Two Toms has been your home all your life, but now that it was unsafe, you had to find a way to get to the Corleone home base with this vital piece of information that unknowingly fell into your hands. 

The Corleones were quiet men, but they took care of their assets. 

When the opportunity to leave with a client presented itself, you acted as though it was just another evening out with a rich daddy who wanted some company. It didn't take long for the night stroll to go awry after the gentleman you left with was knocked unconscious as soon as you stepped outside the social club. 

It wasn't a killing blow, but the faint scent of clean metal rose to your nose and it set the warning signals in your head alight. It was the stench of blood, something you were entirely familiar with given the connections looped around your pretty pinky finger. 

You were quick enough to evade the pair of men in similar black coats, slinking into a dim alley before pulling in the first person to meet your gaze— a fine specimen with piercing blue eyes and dark hair that fell to his shoulders. It was another one of them suits, but now wasn't the time to be picky. He'll do.  

You sighed and looked up at the tall stranger you dragged along with you, your cheeks heating up at the sight of his broad chest from his open cloak. 

Now's not the time to get cold feet, you told yourself. 

"Care to help a stranger?" You smiled at the dark-eyed man, who could only quirk an eyebrow at your inquiry. He found you reaching for his hands, gently placing one on your waist and another on your hot cheek. 

"Wh-What are you—" His words were cut off when you raised a soft hand to his face and closed the distance between the two of you, pulling him down by his collar to a kiss.  

…Except it wasn't a kiss, but more of a cry for assistance. You stood there cheek to cheek and found this man's warmth a surprisingly pleasant feeling. You felt this strong stranger lightly grip your waist and cheek as you collided, as if reciprocating your sudden display of bold affection. Neither of you was bothered when you heard the footsteps behind you, but it felt like your heart was about to climb out of your throat and make its own escape. "Hey, you!—" 

The exclamation didn't even distract the pair. You coiled your arms around the handsome stranger's neck with a sultry little flourish, your scarlet fingernails gently digging into this man's coat. The softest of moans left your lips in another bid to throw off the men on your trail. 

The soldato behind them was quick to turn his heel. "Nothin' to see here! Just some…"

As the gruff voices and the footsteps receded, you heard nothing else but the sound of your own pulse, the blood rushing in your ears as you evaded what was possibly an attempt on your life. 

"I'm so sorry," you murmured, breath warm against the stranger's chest. He took a step back and allowed you your space, fishing out his favourite pack of cigars from his coat pocket. 

"'S'all right, sweet thing. Must have been in a real pinch if you were willing to drag a bystander in your business," he stated, exhaling a cloud of thick white smoke. "Old man Pete said songbirds like you would sing to save herself, but it turns out you can be a hawk if you want."

Pete? "D-Do you know Signore Clemenza? I…" 

"The name's Aki. I'm one of Clemenza's men," he offered his hand to you. "And don't worry. He already knows. Just needed another songbird as proof."

You took his hand and used it to anchor your shaking legs. He squeezed you strong enough for you to snap out of your fight-or-flight trance. 

"Relax, pretty bird. You're safe," said Aki as he pulled you close to his person. It was only then you saw the little twinkle of sapphires on his ears. The sapphires that were his eyes. "We'll take care of you."

— Katabasis (Greek Mythos)

Pomegranates were the only fruit that was hardy enough to survive in the Underworld. 

There was a certain beauty to the crimson fruit that reminded you of home, and all of the lush produce grown in the mortal realm— the verdant trees, overgrown leaves a thick canopy overhead, fragrant blossoms of every colour, and the sweetness of every other fruit that have touched your lips. 

It's sweet, you thought to yourself as you pocketed something into your rose-coloured robes, concealing it from the prying eyes of the shades in the house. 

The House of Hades, cradled deep within Tartarus, was not as cold as the hymns and stories said it would be. Olympus was plenty warm, made even more so with your mother's unrelenting and watchful gaze on you. You were both goddesses revered for bringing forth the mortal realm's abundant harvests, and the gods be damned if you chose a path different from hers. 

For all of its cosiness and colour, Olympus was chaotic, and you didn't mind being spared from its chaos— and your mother's overbearing nature— by accepting an illicit deal with Hera herself. She sympathised with you, after all, and if the Fates wove anything different for her, she would have chosen the more quiet life. 

Little did you know that the deal involved being the Queen of the Underworld.  

And for all his supposed strictness and severity, the raven-haired and blue-eyed Hades was a good ruler— even more a good husband— and he was exceptionally kind to you. He remained aloof as he was when you first met in Olympus many moons ago, but you were certain he was only giving you all the space you needed to grow into your role as the queen of this realm. 

He often bickered with Thanatos, who reaped souls with chainsaws and a surprising lack of empathy. The death god's penchant for following the trail of war troubled Hades, but the harbinger was only doing his job.  

Hecate wasn't easy to deal with, either, as she would rather dwell in her blood magick and witchcraft than assist in managing the Underworld and all of its shades and denizens. Hades likened them to his many pet canines, not counting Cerberus. 

But they adored you, their queen. Thanatos was amiable as Hecate was genial, and they orbited you as celestial bodies would surround a planet, always in a constant state of wondrous awe every time you called forth a plant to spring to life in the Underworld, only for it to wither after a few moments. 

Upon your arrival in the Underworld, Hades gifted you the garden within the palace walls. He was rather embarrassed by its barrenness, but plants from the mortal realm hardly grew there, except for the pomegranate tree that had yet to bear fruit.

And after many moons of waiting, it fell, ripe and right into your hands.  

Hades was simply pleased seeing you walking around the estate. He derived no pleasure from possibly scaring you with his presence, but when he saw you pick the fruit open, he knew his intervention was needed. 

"Oh!" Came your startled expression as the taller figure seized your hand. "I-Is something the matter, my lord husband?" 

His blue eyes scanned your face for a sign, any sign or hint of regret following your consumption of the sweet and tart seeds. "You ate it."

"I did," you replied with a nod. He released you from his tender grip, his large hand moving to gently cup your cheek. Your lips were still moist and balmy with traces of the fruit. Hades pressed himself to exercise control.  

"Beautiful goddess, you do know this will tie you to me eternally," he said with the utmost tenderness, his words not at all coming out as easily as he thought. "Did… Did anyone make you—"

You knew that much, of course, as even Hera warned you of eternal captivity should you consume anything from the Underworld. 

Aloof as he was, his eyes remained as kind as they were when you first met, his obvious adoration of you not at all lifting or changing even as you descended from the mortal realm to make this place your home. And why wouldn't you make this place your home? Why wouldn't you want to tie yourself to this place, to him, who respected you and your space even though you want him to just crash into you? 

"What? Surely you jest," you smiled at him as you contentedly sank into his touch, opening your palm to offer him more of the already sticky pomegranate seeds. "I ate the fruit myself."

— Meet Me (1997)

Surviving the mass attack led by Santa Claus was the last straw for Kobeni. 

In the aftermath of the onslaught, only a handful of the reinforced Special Division 4 remained alive, and with Kobeni's resignation came the final number of five: Aki, Denji, Power, Angel, and you. Captain Kishibe didn't count. You've seen the man fight and the slaughter didn't even faze him one bit. Only the gods know how long that man has lived. And he'll probably outlive us all, too. 

When the captain presented you with the opportunity to leave the public sector and go private, you were on the fence, which was surprising since you joined the sector to follow your family in death. 

"You… aren't looking to die like you were before, the first time we met. I can only assume you found something worth living for," he told you. "Aki and the others are on a break as well. Why not pay them a visit while you're thinking about things?" 

And so you did. Despite missing an arm, Aki still managed to keep their place immaculately tidy. You could only assume that Denji and Power pitched in every now and then given their caretaker's circumstances. 

"Oh, Aki-san!" You exclaimed as the door to the apartment unit opened. Your superior in his habitat had always been a sight to behold for you. You bought snacks and cans of random chilled drinks as a courtesy. "I just met with Captain Kishibe and Kobeni-chan earlier. Ah, but where are Denji-kun and Power-chan?"

"I asked them to buy us some ingredients for dinner as a breather of sorts," Aki stated as he led you to their shared living room. You trailed his steps and made yourself comfortable as you laid out the various knickknacks you brought with you. "How is Kobeni doing?"

"She's doing well, actually," you managed a smile. "She's been persuading me to resign from devil hunting, too, always saying she'll help me find a regular job if I'm in dire need of it."

You opened a can of black coffee for Aki. "Denji-kun and Power-chan like cola, don't they? I can put this in your fridge in the meantime."

"Thanks."

"Ooh," your eyes lit up as you opened the fridge. The young man couldn't help but chuckle in his seat. "Aki-san, are you perhaps about to make tonkatsu?"

"Yeah. You should stay for dinner while you're here," he replied as you sat down next to him once more. "I can't promise you a peaceful meal, though." 

"If we're talking about vegetables, know that I'm happy to take them off their plates," you grinned at him. The way he smiled back at you filled your chest with the warmth you could only hope he felt as well. "Aki-san, I don't… think about dying as much anymore. I suppose I have you to thank for that." 

"I'm glad to hear that."

"You…" you stammered before gathering your bearings and eventually facing him head-on. "Aki-san, I think you—"

"No," he cut you off, slowly shaking his head, the tension between you all the more palpable now that he's rested his forehead on your shoulder. With his hair undone, he smelt even more of cigarettes and strong black coffee, more redolent and intoxicating than the finest cup of espresso you could afford. "There's no leaving this profession for me. Not now." 

Who am I kidding? You thought to yourself. Himeno-senpai couldn't… Whatever made me think that I could?

He raised his remaining hand to touch your face, his palm warm against your cheek. Or was it you who was warm? When he leaned down to wipe away the tear in the corner of your eye, it was only then you noticed that you were crying all along.

"Otome," he stated, voice low and gentle, soft and pleading. No. Any more would hurt. Any more would— "Outlive me and live the most beautiful life you can."

"I can do that now with whatever remaining time you have left, Aki-san," you spoke in tears, trying to hold back your sobs. You cried into the crook of his neck. "Let me take care of you!"

"Just knowing you want to keep on living makes me incredibly happy, Otome," Aki stated with a smile you couldn't see. He tried to soothe your sadness by running his hand over your head. Warm. "Stay for dinner, all right? Come as often as you can. Denji and Power will appreciate having you around, too. I'll bring you something when I get back from Hokkaido, so cheer up." 

You nodded, or at least attempted to, as he gave you gentle pats on your back. Even though he was an image of coolness and calmness, Aki held so much warmth in his heart that it overflowed, saving you from the path of destruction you set on. 

"Aki-san," you murmured against his broad shoulder. Aki-san, I wish I could have saved you, too. "I'd love some miso soup, too." 

You felt his laugh reverberate in his chest. Warm, as though the overflow was trying to make itself known. "I'll prepare some later."

Aki never returned after he last met up with Makima. In the end, it was Denji who handed over the souvenir from Hokkaido that he brought home for you— a pair of carved wooden bears eating corn and salmon, living their most beautiful lives yet.

— +1, In The Afterglow (To the world where you are, 2023) 

Only a small crack of sunlight managed to break through your curtains. The glass sliding door was slightly left open, allowing a gentle morning breeze to slip into your bedroom. 

A groan escaped your lips as you reached for the other side of your bed and found it cold and empty. Why, oh, why did Aki have to be such a morning person?

It couldn't be helped. Even when you were younger, the Hayakawa family next door were known in the area as early risers. When you first moved into the neighbourhood when you were nine, the Hayakawas were the first ones to bring your family a housewarming gift. 

But you liked Aki even more than the present his parents brought. That blue-eyed boy with the most precious smile. You liked him the moment you laid eyes on him.  

And you still like him as much 20 years later. Middle school, high school, university and work never changed how you felt for Hayakawa Aki. Your mutual friends marvelled at your long-standing relationship, some of them joking that the young man was only tolerating you.

—"Ne, Aki-kun! Otome-chan must be a menace when it's just the two of you, huh? Don't you ever think of meeting other people?"—

And Taiyo nearly lost it when you almost broke up with his big brother, too. 

—"Don't listen to onii-chan, Otome-nee! He's being an idiot right now!"—

But Aki liked you just as much as you did for as long as you did, too. And the jokes are on the people who tried to make your relationship a laughing matter. 

—"Are you kidding? She may be a menace, but she's my menace. There's no way I'm letting her go."—

And Taiyo still stood as his big brother's best man on your wedding day even though he thought you two would break up a day before.

—"I've always been some kind of an idiot when it comes to you, Otome. Don't give me that look and come here. Yes, that's right. You're my idiot, too."—

"Akiii!" You whined into your pillow. "Why can't you just sleep in with me, even just a little?"

"Because my pretty wife said she liked having breakfast as soon as she wakes up," the brunette cut through your open internal monologue as he made his way back into your shared bedroom. "Good morning."

You raised your arms to a long stretch, hands reaching for your husband as he sat on the edge of your bed. 

"Good morning, sunshine of my life," you beamed at him. The moment you coiled your arms around his neck and drew him close, he moved like clockwork, leaning down to press his lips on yours. 

Warm, like always. He tasted of ash and his favourite black coffee. "Aki…"

You could tell he was holding back from the way his fists slightly shook on his lap. "All right, that's—"

"Nooo! Don't go yet," you sadly whimpered as he broke away from your hold. Your puppy eyes still worked wonders on him even after all these years. "I just feel like kissing you today. There's a part of me saying I've missed out on doing that a lot." 

"What are you saying, you odd bird?" He chuckled, placing a large hand on your head. You gently curled his dark hair around your fingers, the silkiness of his mane refusing to follow your hold.

"What time will Denji and the others be arriving today?" 

"Later in the afternoon."

"Then I have all morning to kiss you!" 

"You have all the time in the world to kiss me," Aki stated with the same small smile you first fell in love with, a smile you felt like you've always been in love with, with lips you always felt like kissing, as though lifetimes have been stolen from you both. He leaned down to kiss you once more, softly, slowly, tenderly, kindly, taking all the time he wanted. "All the time in the world."

Author's notes: Hello! Before everything else, I just wanted to say thank you for picking up this fic. This fic remains one of my favourite works from this year. It was originally posted on AO3 in January and I am hoping it will receive just as much love here. ♡ — I use "Otome" as a placeholder for "Y/N" because I thought it looked much nicer in the stories I write. The term "Otome" is from otome games, or maiden games, and in this piece Otome would literally mean maiden, or Maiden-chan, which pretty much means Y/N. — Some lunatic takes place somewhere between Ep 12 and the following arc, Bomb Girl. Aki's resolution to not lose anyone any further was driven by his grief over Himeno's death. Y/N has worked with Captain Kishibe for as long as they can remember. — Unbecoming of a Lord alludes to Daphne and Simon's secret agreement in the first season of Bridgerton. (As a royalty buff, I highly recommend the show.) — You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To takes place shortly before the infamous Baptism of Fire scene from the first Godfather film. Aki was a replacement for the traitor Paulie. Soldato means soldier, but it also means a lower-level mafia member who hasn't made an impact in the family yet. — Katabasis (which roughly means descent to the Underworld) is probably one of my most favourite parts of the fic. It takes some elements from the Hades video game (The House of Hades, pomegranates as the only fruit able to grow in the Underworld, Persephone's annoyance at Olympus and its chaos and her deal with Zeus, but here, it's with Hera), and Lore Olympus (Persephone willingly coming to the Underworld and taking the fruit herself). — Meet Me takes place during the start of the Gun Devil arc. Aki's gift for y/n was kibori kuma, or kuma bori. Apparently, Hokkaido is known for its wooden bear carvings and I thought a pair of happy bears was both an appropriate and heartbreaking gift to receive lol. Pardon me while I continue hurting myself with such facts. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I am already looking forward to CSM S2, even though we all know there's only heartache waiting for us lol. ~ SongsOfAdelaide ♡

✦ Original Tumblr post ✦ AO3 link ✦

#songsofadelaidewrites💛 #chainsaw man #csm #csm aki #aki hayawaka #hayakawa aki #reader insert #aki x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #5+1 things #soulmates #alternate universe #alternate timeline #bridgerton #the godfather #hades and persephone

[power-chords]

I think one of the things that appeals to me, selfishly, about Foucault is that I resent the sheer dominance of the Western cultural narrative that parents have this disproportionate special ability to fuck you up. I mean, maybe they do, but if so, it seems more incidental (function of exposure, time, present social and economic structures dictating to whom and for how long) than this power that is peculiar to the Freudian mythos. Not that I don't love all that psychoanalytic stuff and believe it structures much of my own personal reflection. If you're a Jew having Daddy Issues or Mommy Issues is both intrinsically valid and has a certain poetic appeal lol. But like, I can internalize that stuff and derive meaning from it in a way that is as happy, interesting, and rewarding as it was possibly damaging. My family at least loves me and wanted for me to be fulfilled, safe, and confident of my own merits despite being a little bit weird and crazy. Schools and hospitals definitely did not.

[roppiepop]

reverse robins au? your choice if it’s jaytim

Aaaaaa thank u for coming in and asking abt it!!!! Reverse robin aus are one of my fave fandom specific concepts!!

Okay, so basic ground here, but my main reference points for divergence are the 4 male robins, just for linerization sake, and just because I’m most familiar with Tim he’ll prolly be the one that gets the most expansion, but i hope i can do this the way i prefer it to, which is w the most consideration i can towards canon changes affected while also letting each of them mostly keep their original arcs!!!!

- To start off i think it could be interesting to have Bruce work/train duke at the start, and the possibilities of how that would affect Bruce’s attitude towards metas in Gotham, and maybe give a little flavor to how it feels being a mentor to a kid that’s still mostly independent from him with his own family. How well this will actually be handled i still dont know.

- having Damian be the first kid he actually has to try and kind of parent right in the early bat years also come with a few considerations, i think. On one hand Bruce is definitely softer, maybe a bit more tempered having mentored before, and damian may be fresh off the league but since there’s no previous robins for him to need to fight his ‘birthright’ for, maybe there isn’t a need for any drastic measures. (I mean he’s definitely gonna fight duke on principle but i want them to gain the friendship they do in canon and since duke isn’t like, Bruce’s direct partner i think that can track.)

But then again they’re still them, and damian still has a lot of hangups on worth and legacies and is in the worst stages of blustered arrogance while bruce still doesn’t know how to communicate his feelings in effective ways and happens to have an eldest child that is equally as emotionally repressed so????? Maybe its still a really rocky road.

(I’d like for Damian to keep some of his friends here, mainly Colin and Maya to start with, maybe. I honestly dont know how likely it is for him to set up a teen hero group, but i think that’ll end up happening once he sheds his robin-equivalent mantle.

We’ll let him have his nomadic self-discovery journey i guess :/// something ala williamson’s robin maybe, but like, with his actual friends xjsbdhssbdbd we can even keep Bruce and Talia’s playing tug of war w him towards their respective ideals as a catalyst, and maybe its a bit cleaner without all the baggage of morrison’s interpretation of her.

Let’s put him at idk, 17/18 at this point.)

- One thing that i think definitely changes with having Damian in the first iteration of the dynamic duo is how the mythos is perceived. The kid is capable and ruthless and for awhile at the start, mostly cared more for animals than whoever they were saving. Definitely made rogues think twice to leverage him over batman, but probably mostly didn’t endear him much towards the ppl they encounter, though I’d like to believe that changed as he did. Though the extent of that change i need to think on lmao.

For Steph I think I’ll have her start a little before Tim’s robin-equivalent, staying as spoiler, right after Damian leaves so it goes a bit before anyone notices.

Tim’s start here might be a bit tricky to speak on logistics, he starts as a nightwing character and i mostly want to keep in spirit with that, so Damian’s got to be the fixation here. There’s not really a signature flip that could reliably be imprinted in Tim’s memory but maybe it can be simpler. Like idk a kind act at a gala during Damian’s early years that made tim take notice of him, of a verbal/physical tell that one day robin-equivalent gets caught doing, idk- but now we’re officially in Tim’s stalker era.

A recap on where the rest of the vigilantes are, i think duke is rlly nice w the outsiders i kinda want him there lol Damian’s just abt to start his shounen battle arc and steph is slowlinh appearing on Bruce’s radar but as like, a minor villain.

Something something Tim tries to find Damian, can’t seem to manage to, ends up going to the manor to ask, gets halted by alfred, somehow ends up spilling everything he knows to bruce, ????? Profit -> he gets the mantle.

(A bit clunky, a but out of nowhere, sure, but considering I’m p sure that bruce called jason ‘robin’ the moment he decided to bring him home u can gleam that the man misses having a sidekick :////)

Steph’s story is intertwined with Tim’s for better or worse, and while i like her better when she’s striking out on her own i think tim trying to prove himself before official training by like, capturing her would be a serviceable segue into Bruce training them both. Or try to at least. Steph resorts to her own resources, Tim’s parents get poisoned in Haiti.

And now with Tim and Bruce- a rocky start on the vigilante side bcs well, he may have played the mentor role before but Duke’s a meta, Damian was a ready-made assassin, and Steph, although neither, was still noticeably more athletic than Tim is, its not a big deal, but his initial benchmark was already kind of screwed (would love for tim to still end up getting unplanned training from shiva, somehow.)

But bcs of circumstances that are oh so v different than the one in canon bruce has the patience to teach him firm but kindly 👍 and since Jack is still in a coma (or maybe just kill him off fr ://) they can form a proper healthy-ish bond.

Tim’s tenure in canon is prolific but also threads through the groundwork that Dick’s run paved, and i honestly dont know how well that would’ve faired without him vouching for Tim, but it could be interesting to explore how the dynamic duo’s perception changes with a robin-equivalent that places heavy emphasis on cooperation and is definitely more approachable than the last one. I would v much like to keep that aspect of tim that knows everyone lmao

Also young justice running around without the teen titans as a precedent sounds like a hilarious concept.

We’ll say Damian finds out when Jon brings up that his little bro Kon is in a team w the new-bat partner?? I didn’t know u had a new one?? So ofc Damian storms Gotham demanding an explanation.

And see, while i definitely believe that Dami would’ve grown as a character the lack of a Dick Grayson influence makes me think that maybe he still wouldn’t be above attacking a kid in righteous anger :///// and like, he’s pissed at Bruce of course, that name wasn’t his to give, but maybe it’s all the more worse just bcs of how,,, Tim Tim is. Took his name and changed it’s association, came into his house and became his father’s partner lowkey son in aspects that never came easy to him, and has the audacity to greet him with a smile????

Oh yeah Damian definitely hates Tim. Needlessly cruel abt the one definite edge he has over the kid. And like, poor tim :/// never meet ur heroes in any timeline i g.

But anyway!! Dami might move to Bludhaven, might be somewhere else or other, definitely not anywhere near Tim if he can help it. He should be there for all those big events though, although I’m not sure which ones to keep in. Maybe Tim and Steph can coordinate for No Man’s Land. Then enter Cass, who’s also gonna be in contact mostly w those two.

This is getting soooooo long but like, then Tim dies, because he has to. We’ll pull it to be a Joker Jr. situation and give everyone that good good character development. And then there’s Jason.

- The logistics for Jason becoming robin-equivalent is also real tricky, there’s definitely the factor of making bruce laugh via attempted robbery, but i think the actual nudging can be helped along by Steph, as like, a fellow crime alley kid, idk.

But well, Jason’s time in the mantle- unfortunately he yet again can’t escape the giant shoes of his predecessor, but al least now he has a full support system in the others. And so does Bruce, this time around. It’d be nice to keep that happy status quo for long.

Enter- ‘Tim wasn’t actually dead but take a guess on who wanted it to look like that so he can take him away.’ Anyways, you know the drill. Ra’s would definitely leverage his remolding of Tim against Bruce, but he wouldn’t send him back, probably. Tim’s at a low enough point to likely agree.

Maybe Tim also didn’t come out the pit right though, maybe his brains still fractured. He doesn’t come out the way ra’s wanted and although he kept trying, one day he could’ve decided to just throw tim back to gotham like a defective toy.

Should we give Tim a villain arc? It could be done, but it’ll always be rooted in duty and the belief of serving the greater good. If he does take it up it wouldn’t involve getting in trouble with the bats, or telling them hes back- unless of course, that serves a goal, but even if tim is jealous and resentful of jason getting things like damians approval and official adoption status his self-worth issues are more,,, the internalizing kind. The ‘batman needs a robin’ ethos stays true and nothing would be gained from hurting him.

A vague idea for Tim’s comeback schtick could be operating in plain sight as Drake Industry heir. Since there’s a vacuum of any oracle position he could also dabble around in that. Maybe as loose as his morals would be its still in the service of keeping batman and robin the symbols they are idk!!!!!

- All said and done we can have Dick as proper robin, coming into the house heartbroken and angry and looking for justice and like, early resonance with Damian and idk sometime after we do Batman RIP.

(But before that we get Jason’s sheila arc maybe, he’ll survive. We could potentially pull a Tim and have his friends die on him back to back to back but idk!!!! This might be getting too bloated!!!!)

On the romance side ty for letting me choose my ideal reverse robin au is probably a damitim LOL its the genuine hatred turned remorse,,,, the obsessive affection turned cold indifference,,,, the care of it all,,,,,

V easy to turn it into a jaytim too though, the lack of murder attempts probably also make it smoother snsnsnsbdbdbd good luck trying to convince baby jay that he’s in that league though lol (the annoying little brother to lovers that could be employed here is rlly cute tho,,,, regardless of anything id def want there to be crushing)

OOF OKAY THIS WAS REALLY LONG!!!!! IM SORRY!!!! I’ve always wanted to tackle this eventually but I haven’t finished my reading lists enough to confidently make timeline decisions djsnsnsns i hope this still read clearly, tysm again for coming in!!!

#roppie gets a question? #jaytim #damitim #reverse robins #long post #im in my car and cant find the read more toggle on mobile im sorry to subject everyone to this shabsbssbdb #embarrassing how much i think abt this!!!! #excuse my cherry picking in the name of linearization thx

[ilikedyourablogithere]

My Dislyte Favorite 2022 Awards

I liked alot of stuff so this will be a while

Favorite Character Award: Falken

He looks like a batman villain/ kakashi/ Iori yagami and a Yugioh character mixed into one intimadating look guy but in actuality...he’s just a bit awkward and get misunderstood from time to time but he’s good people.

His story of having to rely on himself to support his family regardless of what was thrown at him is very admirable and you can’t help but want to root for him but then he meet Sander and finally made a friend and he learns to rely on others instead of doing everything himself and then wants to go out and do the same for others. And even though he has lost his friend it didn’t stop him from forging his own sense of justice and continues to move forward. He is a very interesting character to me and I look forward to whatever happens to him

Also he has laser beams, revenge energy stealing eye powers and he can turn into and summon a falcon! how cool is that

Best Boy Award: Lewis

I’ve always been a fan of boxer characters if a game has one I gotta use ‘em and Lewis is no exception. But what really hooked me on him is his wanting to do right by the people in his life. Even when his sister left to go the bad guys side he isn’t trying to drag her back by force or anything, he’s just being a big brother and showing her a good example (whether she’s paying attention is a whole different issue). He got good friends around him like Bardon, Tang Xuan and Li Ling as well as a pretty good mentor in Gaius looking out for him. All and all I think he’s doing just great

My favorite part was that little trivia about how he’s secretly trying to improve his penmanship. Just one of those tiny things that just make gravitate to certain characters.

Best Girl Award: Laura

She’s so dang nice and she just to help people. A bit basic? Not at all. It’s actually super hard to be nice. Like she first went to go be a doctor so she could help people but even after she became a surgeon when she got her superpowers she then went on to join the Esper Union. It’s like lady you’re a doctor you’re saving lives you’re doing good and Laura said “NO! I can be even more nice“ then goes on to save even more people

Like she just adopts a random kid she barely knows anything about. Like people don’t just do that. Being nice isn’t a basic thing at all. And all that nice and kindess she puts just gets to you and make you feel all warm inside and ... how can you not like her?

[NO BEST WAIFU OR HUSBANDO FOR 2022]

[NO BEST SHIP FOR 2022]

for whatever percent of y’all that were wondering about that. I dunno nothing really stuck. maybe next year

Best Anthro Award: Daylon

Should come as no surprise seeing how Sobek was one of my top picks from mythos that I wanted in the game and ever since he arrived I’ve been very satisfied

He’s actually a very chill guy. Nothing too grand or far out there. He’s just a guy, sure he may scare off someone from time to time with the whole crocodile “situation” but that’s not gonna stop him from living his life and helping out where he can as earnestly as he can

Best Monstergirl Award: Melanie

For as overused as the medusa, gorgon, snakes for hair gag is Melanie make it entertaining. Not a dull moment when it comes to her

Her complete unamusement of Fabrice (unless sleep depraved from binge reading shojo mangas) her not taking any nonsense from Leon, Ren Si or Biondina. Her big sister vibes with Li Guang and of course her goofy side she get to show off when she’s around her best friend Celine and she doesn’t have to be the responsible one for a bit.

She’s always just amusing where ever she shows up in the story (obviously someone’s favorite on the game’s team) and I look forward to more of her

Best Mythology Award: Egyptian

While all the character designs in the game are stellar  it’s the Egyptian mythos that stood out the most for me. Whenever a new one dropped they’re decked out in gold and jewelry. Not shy on giving furries some love. The colors from Kaylee being the color of the desert sand to Tiye the night sky. And of course the diversity of blackness. Can not stress enough how nice it is to not be this small corner of the fanbase that just gets brushed over and ignored all the time where we get like 3 and then a bunch of racially ambiguous ones who people will always fight you over because the idea of someone being black just have to be fought back against and it is nice to not have to do that for once...it is very nice

But ya I’ve been loving what I’ve been seeing and hope to love whatever comes next

Best Element Award: Inferno

I like ‘em hot and spicy and this element never disappoint. They can be Fighter Defender Controller Healer you give an inferno unit any role and you’ll never hear anyone thinking it is a bad idea. Flame on!

Best Boss Award: Fafnir

The icy lady is always a fun one to go up against. Whether I’m autoing her or playing the game myself I’m always on edge. All it takes is one move, one resist check and you can be collecting your relics with pride or have your team completely wipe out.

Not to mention her boss theme is a great one

Best Billboard Event Award: Bloody Hunt

Out of all the ones we had this is the one always feel relevant because so many things that were established start getting their pay off. Like various bounties bios and small one off topics that were casually brought up that you didn’t even give that much of a thought somehow end up being actual points of importance in the event. And most importantly of all...Bloody Hunt didn’t “end“ like nothing was really resolved and it feels like something that will come back to at some point in the story

Also dat trailer for it

oh so cool

Best Side Event Award: Origami Love

While I can’t say Ophelia is one of my top faves in the game she did bring along Esper Feud. And like no question my favorite side event

I had so much fun racking my brain figuring out how to beat challenges

Also the story was pretty enjoyable

Best Boss Theme Award: The Dark Star Lord

ho boy did they go that extra mile with this track. Even if you’re not good at this boss fight you still end up feeling good cause you get to here this great beat

and THEN the transition into another rendition of Enter Your Mind seriously how many versions did people submit of this one song ? not that I’M complain of course. My ears love it

Best DJ Contest Track Award : Refuge

Sorry wise there wasn’t much meat on that bone

But that song sure did make up for it. Had that on repeat nonstop for the longest

Best Character Theme Song Award: Reine des Roses

Like I love all the characters themes but I say Abigail’s edges out for that fun factor in it for me

Best Song Sung by the in game Characters: Soul Mate sung by Ahmed

Kinda the only one in this category for now but I still wanted to say it cause it IS a great song

ANYWAYS That’s that

Think I covered all my dislyte faves for 2022 and most certainly can’t wait for what dislyte does next

but for now

HAPPY NEW YEARS CHAMP

let’s make the best of it. stay safe out there

#dislyte

[honourablejester]

Research Rabbit Holes & Call of Cthulhu Character Concepts

Okay. So I got the Call of Cthulhu Investigator Handbook, as people may have gathered. And I was browsing the list of occupations, and I found the Diver. Which. I mean. If we’re playing horrifying underwater Lovecraft Mythos horror, that makes sense. But. I went to look up the history of underwater diving a bit, just to get a better feel for where we would have been, technologically, around the 1920s? Not in detail or anything, but just to get a feel. And. Um. You do not need Lovecraftian horrors of any stripe to create terror in this regard?

Continued under cut for anyone who has triggers regarding claustrophobia or underwater anything:

So. One interesting little tidbit I came across while browsing Wikipedia on this issue was that decompression sickness, AKA The Bends, was originally called Caisson Disease. Because it was first observed not in divers, but in caisson workers and miners. And I do not know this word, so I go look up what a caisson is, and therefore what caisson workers are. And, um. It’s a rigid pressurised airlocked workspace that is slowly sunk down to the river/sea bed under large underwater building projects, such as bridge piers, so that workers can get down there to dig out foundations. Inside a tiny airtight concrete box at the bottom of the river.

Jesus Christ. Jesus, humans are fucking terrifying. These are the things we do.

Basically, decompression sickness was first sort of properly documented among people emerging from highly pressurised working environments like caissons and some mineshafts, and they later linked it to the same phenomenon as people coming up too fast from pressurised diving. There is a fantastic-slash-utterly horrific description of caisson work on the Brooklyn Bridge in the 1870s, which was a notable study for caisson disease as there were over a hundred cases during the construction. And it’s just. What a lovely rabbit hole to have wandered down?

But. But. How about that for a character backstory? A diver, a Call of Cthulhu 1920s diver, whose granddad was a caisson worker on the Brooklyn Bridge. One of the ones who survived, maybe with some health issues later down the line. Because this family, it’s a point of pride. That they can survive pressurised hell without a qualm, whether subterranean or submarine. Maybe the family were originally miners, and then caisson workers, and then divers. Granddaddy built the Brooklyn Bridge. Daddy was a navy man. And our character, he works in marine salvage.

I think I’d want their highest score to be Power. They are rock solid. They have calm, and control, and presence of mind, even when 40ft down in the mud and silt of the riverbed in a tiny fucking concrete box, or hanging in black abyss of lightless water waiting for their body to be ready to make it back up. They are relentlessly sane. Until, maybe. Until something supernatural has to come and shake them up. Because it’s a point of pride. Humans do these things on their own. They invent these things and put themselves in these situations all on their own. Willingly. So by god it’s going to take something really unnatural to horrify this man. My great granddaddy was a miner. My granddaddy worked the caissons on the Brooklyn Bridge. My daddy was in the Navy. I’ve dived wrecks along half the east coast. You’re gonna have to pull something big to put the willies up me, you squishy alien sons of bitches!

Because. Because look. Cthulhu is all very well. Great Old Ones, horrors beyond the stars. But humans do this to themselves. We do this to ourselves. We make tiny concrete boxes and sink them under rivers and go down to work in them ourselves.

I honestly sometimes think that there is no horror the universe could wreak on us that we couldn’t (or haven’t already) found a way to willingly wreak on ourselves first.

Why are we like this? God. It’s awesome, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also really terrifying.

#call of cthulhu #character concepts #research #diving #construction #engineering #history #humanity #why are we like this?

[cuppajj]

I do have a lot of quastions about the mech pilot au but these are the ones I'm most curious about:

- how do titans work - do cityspeakers work double time or is something else involved?

- in that vein, what is the Lost Light like? assuming it's part of the mech pilot au similar to your sentient ll au

- do you have any crumbs of mech pilot au mythos/historical records/urban legends to share? I do love me some in-universe lore tidbits

I wrote a little about titans in the greater lore post, so for convenience I'll put what I had here before answering:

Titans are directly spawned from Primus, and the only case of a fully sentient mecha. Curiously though, they can create artificial human bodies to masquerade as an ordinary mech pilot. Some are the size of entire cities, though others are only the size of massive starships. Long ago, the city titans served as as vessels tasked to form colonies on other planets, while the starship titans were talked to chart the edges of the known universe. However, some have remained on Cybertron, and their artificial human consciousnesses walk among ordinary society. Their speakers are real humans who attain cybernetic attachments to help them last longer with their titan, but they are still mortal and die after thousands of years.

On that note:

Speakers are normal humans who receive cybernetic enhancements that extend their lifespan, so they can serve their respective titan the same way they do in the normal universe. They're still mortal however, and are rotated once every ~10,000 years. Being a speaker is a lifelong commitment, and much of their time is devoted to being with their respective titan. It's kinda similar to going to live in a monastery, what with the potential isolation and commitment, but speakers still get more free time than that.

okay so I’m kinda in contention with if I actually want LL to be sentient here, my brain really wants them to be canonically sentient in the main au (esp because the events of MTMTE don’t really happen here) but at the same time, I don’t want to go inserting sentient LL into everything since they’re technically an au in themself! I know mech pilot is my own au but still 😂 that being said I def wrote some parts of the lore post with LL in mind so maybe, anyway: Sentient!LL would be a titan who spends most of their time using their artificial human form (titans don’t turn into humans, they’re more like puppets they control remotely with their own consciousness). Pyxis, their first and only speaker, died eons ago, and they haven’t had another since. Light would be friends with the staff at the academy/organization that trains mech pilots and sends them on missions, especially the uppers (Ultra Magnus in particular). He also hangs out with Rodimus, though their dynamic isn’t the same as it is in the normal SLLAU. Light is still parental in nature to him, but they’re more of an aunt/uncle or family friend figure who isn’t always there but brightens everyone’s day when they are. LL the titan is the same size as their normal counterpart I’d say, which in human proportions is a lot bigger. They were likely meant to serve as an arkship, but they might’ve been a little late to the party.

Still working on the lore bits but for some small bits I’ve been thinking about: humans (cybertronians) have colonies on other planets outside the main set of planets, and there are ancient ruins scattered throughout the galaxy rumored to be built by the knights of cybertron (Rodimus is interested in this). I said these to you in dms but just to reiterate here for everyone else: The best of the best pilots have been to Unicron (The primes and their closest allies), and they’re actually tracking his movement, and there’s a routine visit to it to keep the tracker up to date. The guiding hand was like the first five pilots (with rung in possession of the first forged from Primus’s core), while the 13 were the first 13 to traverse the stars. This could change though so nothing guaranteed!

The quintessons might’ve been Quintus Prime’s fault, splitting from everyone and deciding to do funky life making magic on a desolate planet isn’t going to end well if you mess up

The organization that hires and trains mech pilots is an offshoot of a special organization that has been guarding the planet since before the era of Optimus. Postwar, most of this org consists of Autobots with Optimus himself at the helm.

#mech pilot au #cjj askbox #tachyon omlette #also technically #sentient lost light au #cjj arts

[captzexx]

2023

2023.

Well, we're halfway through it and I just figured now would be a good time to update all the stuff that is or was or maybe going on with this blog.  If you're still here, thanks for staying!  If you're new, hey welcome!  If you're on your way out the door for a pack of smoke or to get the milk, see ya soon dad!

So here's the rundown.

This is a hub for all the crazy/mundane/weird/eyerolling roleplay writing stuff that I think I'm pretty decent at. On good days.  It's been a year since I had my surgery and I have literally killed a third of myself.  Now to just keep him dead.  Which is hard as my brain is in a good/bad place most of the time to match my body which is in a good/bad place, but I'm keeping it together.  Most of the time.

So if you're interested in a collab, are collaborating, or going 'where the hell did that guy go' I'm still here and I'm getting it back to form.  Ish.  I promise I'll try not to let you all down if we're interacting or will be at some point, which I would love to do!

Now that that's out of the way, here's where I'm playing these days!

THE BLOGS

@sailsonaseaoffate - My Spelljammer blog came true!  Fantasy based sci-fi adventures with Treasure Planet vibes that I do my best to stay with the setting though as with all lore I make my own!  I do what I want.  Either way, this is where most of the Candell family has found a new home on the remade Wayfarer as they search through Wildspace for a way home for some, a new home for others, or bringing that final piece back to their puzzle.  New foes, new ships, plenty of sarcasm, and lots of face punching.  Adventure among the stars with a multiversal family of rogues and swords!

@conduitdreams - Cyberpunk is getting closer to reality than we ever thought possible, which is both very exciting and terrifying.  I'm hoping to lean more into the exciting part of it, but horror and terror are common themes for me as well.  Pulling a lot from cyberpunk epics such as Bladerunner, Strange Days, and Cyberpunk Red/2020/2077, I've been doing my best craft my own little slice of synthetic neon dystopia to build a few stories from.  Midwich is a floating city built in the Gulf of San Andreas after the great quake that split California from the mainland essentially making it's own free floating city-state.  Where most see it as the end of the world for golden state, it has done but flourish thanks to move and now is the ultimate producer of food supplies as well as other natural resources.  New trade markets had to be made and with it came the creation of these middlemen cities that processed items from place to another. It's very loose setting in my head that is welcome for more voices and ideas to help flesh it.  Come run the net and see with artificial vision searching for a soul!

@acrowamongsparrows - Steel for men, silver for monsters.  I love horror.  I love fantasy.  I love the Witcher.  Would I call myself a superfan?  No.  I would I call myself a big fan?  Hell yes.  Do I know all the minutia and information about the world?  Good god no.  But I did make my own witcher and I did piece together a 'Scooby-doo' crew for him to battle all sorts of things that go bump in the night.  I am no lore god (I do respect it though) but these are our stories and I feel like we should be able to tell them how or why we want to.  So, if you'd like to hunt monsters, beat up elves, and dodge vampires join me as Eld of Kovir travels with his nephews into the depths of monstrosity.

ON HOLD

@thedreaminghunger - I had high hopes for Oplisca and wandering the cosmic horror I built up around her with the mythos and the bits of Warcraft butchery that I'd clung too.  But I just can't seem to get a hold of it.  I'm not sure I have enough level in pure weird to truly give her what she needs to become the monster I see in my mind for her.  Traversing the multiverse in search of herself so that she can consume them and grow in power in the many eyes of her 'Love'.  Maybe I'll get there or if someone has an idea to push my feral end of space witch into stratosphere I dream of.

@memoriesofivalice - My poor FF14 characters, I had a big cast and a lot of my mind when I tweaked and created them all for this MMO.  I loved the game but I found myself spending most of my time alone and just kind of got tired of the story grind.  I joined a great guild of storytellers and people, but my heart just couldn't get into it.  As much as I distance myself from WoW, it still hurts me so deeply after everything that happened and continues to happen with them.  Maybe I'm tainted with MMOs.  Maybe I should revamp to just be a Final Fantasy blog and do my own thing with people.  I mean there's 16 of them and only like two really connected by sequels.  I hope an idea comes because this cast deserves to not be forgotten.  Or maybe rebooted at least.

@withanemeraldeye - 'Between the time when the oceans drank Atlantis and the rise of the sons of Aryas, there was an age undreamed of. And unto this, Conan, destined to wear the jeweled crown of Aquilonia upon a troubled brow.'  I used to play a lot of Conan Exiles and I honestly can say I watched Conan the Barbarian once a month when it's streaming as I love everything about sword & sorcery.  Pulp fantasy has always been huge for me to match with the incredible art and style presented by such artists Sanjulian, Jeffrey Catherine Jones, and the king himself Frazetta. So making a brutal pulp fantasy character was inevitable for how much I dig the simple but exciting concept.  But it's been quiet here for me and that breaks my heart for what I put together for Voldrin in the Exiled Lands fighting for survival with the Black Sword across his back.  I hope I can get back into it again.

FUTURE

I am interested in anything or anything to collaborate on.  You wanna do an urban fantasy adventure?  Let's do it Dresdan style.  Airships and moncoles?  I'm there.  Transdimensial time travel with Quantam Leap infintie lives?  That sounds really cool and I would love to explore it.  We run a coffee shop for people in the urban heart of a Pacific Northwest City?  That sounds a lot slice of life, but I am intrigued on what it may bring.  

The skies the limit for me and all we need is to do is say 'Hey I got an idea!'  

So, that's me.  It's 2023.  I need to be creative.  So do you.  

Team work makes the dream work.

Or synergy.

Insert corporate slogan.

#update #2023 #hardboot #writing #roleplay #collaborative #multiblog #multimuse #sell yourself

[mythicalsanctuarysodor]

Happy late James day! Have a pic and a fic for my lateness-

(Warning! Under the cut is a fanfic that may contain topics sensitive to some readers, read tags for more info. Otherwise, you have been warned, read at your own choice.)

James smiled and waved as he saw Gordon, Duncan and Sir Bertrum board the train out to the mainland, Edward and Henry standing at his sides were doing the same as the old stallion and forest spirit wished them good luck. Once the train had left the other mythos were left with their own plans for the day, Edward was taking his wife into town so they could go furniture shopping for their new house, Henry was finally ready to go into the forest he once called his home, Thomas was going to do a bit of expansive exploring around the island, Percy was going to visit the Skarloey, and their jockeys were going to hang around the docks chatting with old friends.

James however had a train to catch as he was going to the mainland for a visit, when the others questioned him his answer was- “I always wanted to learn a little bit of alchemy, and now is the best time with all the classes popping up.” They bought it as it also was to explain why he would be gone for a few days. With suitcases in hand James’s own train to Manchester was coming in, the others wished him luck as the unicorn boarded the coach.

James made sure to get a coach that had compartments so he wouldn’t take up to much space, he had a long way from Sodor to Horwich after all. So he sat his luggage on the seat and laid down in the middle of the compartment. As the train carried on, after an hour someone knocked on the compartment door, James looked up from a book he was reading to see a human there, James was honestly expecting a mythic to join him before a human would.

“Hello, do you mind? Everyone else is full.” The man said. “Sure, though I apologise for the tight space.” James said as his body didn’t quite take up the whole small isle but there was enough space for two humans. The man smiled and sat down on the opposite seat to James’s luggage. James was about to go back to his book when the human decided to engage in small talk.

“So, where are you heading?” “I’m heading back home to Horwich, I’m hoping to still find some family there.” James said. “Ah,” the man smiled and nodded then got a notepad and pencil out and began writing down what James had told him. The crystal mythic found this strange and asked about it, “Do you record your conversations with people?” “Oh! Sorry, no-no I’m a mythology professor in Manchester, ever since the new law many of my colleagues have been jumping at the chance to talk to as many mythic as possible to record things while their still fresh.” “Ah! Well in that case I’m one to brag and boast, if you have questions I’d be happy to answer, professor…?” “McGlynn, Oswald McGlynn.” The man said extending his hand for a shake. “James, James Shire!” James smiled and gently shook his hand.

The first thing Oswald did was gasp when he got a good look as James’s hand and arm, as the unicorn was wearing a short sleeve dress shirt and vest today. “My goodness your arm, is this solid gemstone?” Oswald asked. “Yes it is, 100% ruby and my tail and frills are flecks of gold.” “Good gracious you’re a walking few million pounds! You must have done something extraordinary before boarding this train.” “Not really, I did mixed traffic work on a railway off of Barrow-in-Furness, granted I did pull the express there a few times but otherwise it was mainly goods work with some passenger trains mixed in.” “So you were an industry mythic?” “I guess I still am, because our owner offered us to still work there if we wanted, I said yes and he’s given me a few months to get my interests in order.”

This confused Oswald, he had gotten the impression that many industry mythic had been glad to leave their old jobs behind. “Why are you still working there? I’ve seen several reports of mythic loathing their old jobs they were forced into.” “My boss was actually rather fair compared to what I’ve heard about other railways, and he still is fair by giving us proper wages, heck, I did just say he’s giving me a few months to get my things together before going back to work.” “True, I guess there are a few good eggs out there. But moving on, since you’re an industry mythic, were you paired with a locomotive?” “I was, a Lancashire and Yorkshire class 28.” “So how did you get from that railway to the one you’re on now?” “That particular class of locomotive was riddled with problems, and mine was chosen to have some modifications done. They worked, but they didn’t have enough money to do it on the others. So I was eventually sold off to the railway I work on now when they needed a quick cash grab.” “Sounds like that was for the best in the end.” “Absolutely, my best years are with my current home.”

As Oswald scribbled down his notes he then moved onto a more personal topic. “If you don’t mind this next topic, I was wondering if you could tell me about you personally. Like… your middle name, last I knew working class mythic didn’t get family names and rarely got proper names at all.” “Ah! Well… I was wild caught truth be told, my herd had its own language and when my name was translated it meant supplanter, and the human name James means supplanter. As for my surname, I just needed something to write on my new birth certificate, so since Yorkshire and Lancashire both ended in ‘Shire’ I chose that. It also makes sense because I’m a horse.” James explained with a chuckle. “Alright, then what about your heritage? I’ve never seen a unicorn made out of minerals before, so are you from an area with caves?”

James seemed to pause at that question. Back when he first arrived at the NWR he got asked that frequently, eventually people just stopped asking but it was always still a mystery in the air of what James 100% was. “It’s… complicated. I’m sorry but this isn’t one I’d like to answer.” “No need to apologise, I understand that some things of the past should stay there. But if you can’t tell me that then I would like to ask how you maintain your body, do you need to eat rubies or gold? Or what is your diet in general? I couldn’t help but notice you also have wrather sharp teeth.” “Well to answer the whole thing about my food I’d have to say I’m an omnivore like you, I can eat my fruit and meats. Not rocks however, my body isn’t the you are what you eat factor.” “If you don’t mind me asking then, how do you bathe? Do you polish the rock or do you just run it under water?” “Run it all under water and then dry the gem part with a special towel.”

Oswald then got to the last few questions he had. “Okay, last few, and the most awkward of all. How do you court and mate?” “We’re still not barn animals so I wouldn’t say ‘mate’, but to answer that question my species specifically reproduces asexually, using a method akin to how most industry mythic were born except instead of using a female or female equivalent they put the beginning embryo into a large crystal, and it gestates from there. As for dating? My species are technically gender fluid or don’t identify with any gender so we don’t mind who we date as long as they’re the right person, but me personally I’m not looking for any love at the moment.” Oswald smiled as he put a firm dot at the end of his last note. “Thank you very, very much James, I’m hoping this will help my classes understand mythic better. Um, if I could interest you, would you like to come to the university I work at for a live demonstration? You’ll be paid and such.” Oswald handed James his card. “I’ll definitely consider it, it was fun getting to talk about myself for an hour or so.” James said as he checked his pocket watch. Oswald was surprised to, checking his own wrist watch. “Oh my the time flew by fast, my stop should be coming up soon.”

James did his best to stretch as his own stop would be coming soon as well. “Well if you get off before me I want you to take this.” James made a small square plate of ruby form in his hands that had some odd pictures but also some numbers on it. “This is so I can just teleport into your class room if you place it on the floor, it also has my crystal ball sigil and phone number on it, but I might not be me answering the phone, just ask for me if not.” Oswald was amazed! He just saw James do magic and he didn’t even think to ask about that! He took the ruby with glee and carefully wrapped it in cloth before packing it in his brief case. “Thank you very much James, and who knows, maybe now having a sigil will give me an excuse to use a crystal ball or magic mirror.” Oswald said as he got up and saw his stop approaching. “Well this is my stop, it was a pleasure talking with you James.” “Likewise! If only more humans were like you, we would be a lot further along than we are now.” Oswald chuckled as he smiled and left the coach, waving to James.

Once James was on his way again he began to dread reading the signs of the stations as they came up, but eventually he found the one he was looking for… Horwich. He began to collect his things and climbed out of the coach, to his surprise he saw a lot of mythic walking around on the platform, working as ticket sellers, maintenance, he even saw who looked like a tall faun hybrid as the station master. Regardless he trotted off and began to search around, he remembered some of the tracks but a lot of them had been paved over by roads, now the only ones really around were tramway tracks. But as he undoubtedly knew, all tracks lead to the place where engines run, so he followed them across roads and past other landmarks he used to know until he was standing in front of the brick building of Horwich works.

He trotted in to try and see if he knew anyone there, it was being cleared out as the working class mythic that would have previously lived there were moving out. And to his surprise he did see someone he recognised, a brother in steel as they were paired with the same engine type but weren’t biologically related. “12517?” James asked. The unicorn centaur turned around from the other mythos he was addressing and gasped when he saw James, “12520?! Holy cow! What?!” The centaur trotted up to James and pulled him into a tight hug. “Brother it has been decades! Where have you been? Is this a new gemstone? What’s with the solid red look? Why have you come back? Do you have a name now?” James laughed as he hugged back and even ruffled his brothers short hair. “Haha! It’s good to see you again to big brother! To answer your questions- A railway on an island from Borrow-in-Furness, yes it is new and the gem is ruby, I went for a solid red look since I asked for a new colour after I had a bad crash, I wanted to see my family in steel again, and yes! I was christened that nickname I insisted you all called me back in the day, my name is James!”

The class 28 unicorn chuckled and trotted around James in a playful manner. “Well James, it’s nice to finally say that’s your name, the old managers here will be furious! As for me, my name is Jacob! Just got it on paper a few days ago actually.” Jacob laughed. “Jacob? My name is a derive from that name, they both mean ‘supplanter’, did you struggle to come up with a name or something?” James asked actually feeling a little offended that his brother would just copy his name. “Actually… all of us choose a name beginning with ‘J’, it was so we could honour you. You were the most gutsy of us to insist you had a name and hardly responded to anything else.” Jacob winced as he remembered those punishments James would get if he didn’t listen to his industrial name.

James grimaced and squirmed under his clothes, remembering those days of his youth well. But he pushed it aside at the feeling of pride that his brothers and sisters would name themselves after a similar theme to his own name. But just then a shout came from an office door, “52530! Quit your gossiping and get back to work!” Jacob jumped as it seemed a manager was addressing him. “Yes sir! Right away sir!” Jacob was about to gallop off but James skipped in front of him and stopped him. “Woah, woah, woah! Hold your horse Jacob, what does he mean by work?” “I’ve been pulling wagons of living stuff for the other mythic that have been moving out, there’s a lot to get through, would you like to give me a hand?” Jacob asked. “Did you somehow manage to open a moving company in the span of a few days ago from getting your name on official paper?” “What? No.” “Then why are you moving other mythic’s crap and not just your own?” “Because I was told to?”

James facepalmed at his brother, the clink of ruby on ruby from his hand to his horn not being very subtle. “Jay… that kind of defeats the purpose of what this whole mythic rights thing has done for us, you don’t have to do anything that manager tells you to do! Did you ask the other mythic if they wanted help with moving out?” “No.” Jacob said. “Did they ask you and you agreed to help?” “No.” “Are you only doing it because that man told you to?” “Yes.” “Those mythic are grown adults they can sort their own moving situation out, now. Where is your crap? I’ll help you pack and we can get you started on getting out of here.”

Jacob looked to be thinking to himself as James could see the gears turning in his brothers head when they heard another shout from the manager. “52-!” “How about getting off your own fat ass and doing it yourself you lazy git! He doesn’t work for you anymore and his labour is not for free!” James shouted causing the whole works to go silent. The manager in question standing in the office door stood completely out and marched right up to James with a furious scowl. “Who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that centaur?” the man yelled. “I am this stallions brother in steel, that’s who the hell I know I am, and who do you think you are demanding things of him? He’s not your worker, his time is not a charity, if you want him to be a moving service you’d better start paying him.” “I’ve been his manager for the past five decades, so when I tell him to do something, he does it!” the man shouted. “In case your dead braincells in the back maybe didn’t hear, the only manager your of- is the bacteria in this tetanus hot spot! You have no power here! Come on Jay, show me your stuff and we can blow this joint.”

James grabbed Jacob’s arm and started walking further into the works for Jacob to show him where he was staying. “So, where’s your stuff?” James asked only to not hear a word from Jacob. When he looked back he saw his brother quietly crying to himself, tears dripping off his cheeks. James stopped and addressed his brother again, “Jay? Hey Jacob? Come on bro use your words.” To his surprise, Jacob shoved James away from him, huffing as his face became red from anger. “What good has words ever done? All the words I tried to say to you just always went right over your head! I was always getting in trouble for you James, and even after fifty years you still haven’t changed! I’m still going to be getting in trouble for you!” James looked hurt but also confused. “Jacob, you shouldn’t be getting in trouble because of me, not back then and sure as dam hell not now. If you think you have to cop that on the chin still your wrong, you can walk away no matter how much he yells at you because for once in your life he has no power over you. You just saw what I did, I don’t have to take anything from him, you’re in my shoes now, you don’t have to take it ether.”

Jacob still cried. “It’s not that easy James, fifty years doesn’t just disappear like that.” “I know! Thirteen sure as hell weren’t off my back the second I left here, and you coped a tongue lashing while I endured a literal lashing, I was broken and shattered so many times Jay, I was most of the time in too much pain to even move because they never allowed me a second to just let the part of me connected to the stone actually heal, you remember why I was so bad at magic back then? That was because the migraines made it physically impossible for me to even conjure the will with how many times they broke my horn. I was in a hell Jay… it took me more than thirty years, if I can get over it, I know you can to. Granted, it’s obviously not going to be the same journey as mine, far from it. Like you said, that’s fifty years that’s not going to go away overnight. But where do you think beginning to recover starts? You’ve already been given the push, you just need to take the first step.” James held onto his brothers shoulders as he spoke to Jacob, having the older stallions full attention.

Jacob looked to be in thought again and this time James covered his ears so no outside source could cut him from them. It took a minute or two but eventually Jacob whipped his tears, then guided James to the back of the works where his personal belongings were. They were in a large gym bag, packed and ready to go. “This all?” James asked. “Yeah… I didn’t bother much for personal possessions that I couldn’t carry on my person.” “Fair, you lived in a work shop after all.” James picked up Jacob’s luggage and they began to trot out. “Are any of our other siblings here?” James asked. “No, I was the only one who stayed here, everyone else were in sheds.” “You have a new living arrangement sorted out yet?” “There’s a local mythic shelter, I was going to crash there while I get my bank details in place for the money.” James gasped and instantly shook his head. “Oh hell no, no brother of mine is staying in a shelter until he gets his life together. You can crash at my place, I kind of went over board when making it and now it’s just that bit too big.” Jacob was surprised. “James seriously, you don’t have to take me in.” “Bull shit, I have an obligation out of love to. Plus, if your still looking for hauling work, the place I’m at is still looking for hires, we’re wrather short on unicorns.”

Jacob thought about is for a second before smiling and nodding. “Alright it couldn’t hurt to live with family. So, where is your new place?” “It’s on an island past Barrow-in-Furness, the island of Sodor.” “I’ve heard of Sodor, its alongside the isle of man isn’t it?” “It is!” “Huh… well it’s a little far but if your happy with it than it must be worth it.” “Great! I can teleport us there now.”

James erupted a 10ft stalagmite of ruby from the ground, it’s red glow being a sign of imbued magic. “Holy cow! You figured out how to teleport?” Jacob asked. “My own way of teleporting, yes. I still can’t do it the way you lot can though.” James said as he began to walk through the ruby with Jacob following him. When they got to the other side, they were in James’s front yard on a large property of land with farm land and horse paddocks in the surrounding area.

“Woah… I see what you mean when you say you’ve made it to big.” Jacob commented. “This isn’t what I meant. I knew I wanted a large bit of land because, well come on, we’re half horses. What I meant when I said I made it to big was my house.” James said as he began walking up the hill and gesturing for Jacob to follow. The unicorn stallion did and when he was over the hill he could now 100% see what James had meant, on the top of the property after a small hill was a giant mansion made with all variants of gemstone and other such materials, plants climbed up the walls and made archways, some bricks sporadically had a shine to them, the windows were all stained glass around the rims with wooden windows having carved details, there were towers around the roof reminiscent of old castles with many balconies, and the pathway lights were designed to ether be glowing plants or gems that would light up at night. Jacob was amazed at how much effort looked to have gone into this, like it was ripped right out of an old times fantasy novel that a matriarch would live in.

“Sweet Jesus fucking Christ…” Jacob whispered out loud. “Regret choosing to come with me yet?” James asked cockily as he began to walk up to the front door. “I’m beginning to trust your judgment more and more despite knowing I shouldn’t.” Jacob said quickly trotting to catch up with James. “Trust me dear brother when it comes to architecture, I am a king at it.” James said as he opened the door and let themselves in.

To Jacob the inside was no better than the outside, archways that connected the rooms were heavily detailed in different themes of pictures, large centaur sized leather sofas lined the living room walls with a giant magic mirror mounted on the wall, the stairs were all with decorated railing, marble floors with some carpets and rugs in the appropriate rooms, and again, everything looked like a palace!

“Upstairs are the bedrooms, study, library, studio, theatre, and entrance to the veranda out back, though there’s an entrance on this level to. Bathroom on this level is over on that side, and there are bathrooms with all the guest rooms. Master bedroom is on the third floor, if you need me during the night that’s where I’ll be. Kitchen and living room are to the right as you can see, I don’t have much food kept yet but there are a few quaint café’s down the road if you get hungry at the moment. Theres a pool and fountain at the back along with a garden, there’s also a river and pond, I don’t recommend swimming in there because there are a few fish. The only rules I have off the bat are don’t go down stairs, there’s a magic stone there that leads to my personal forge, and my bedroom is off limits unless you get my say so. Otherwise, that’s the whole place. If you want to explore the bedrooms and pick one go right ahead.” James said as he whipped his hooves on the carpet and left his luggage at the front door.

Jacob almost dropped his bag in surprise at how massive the place was, he swore he was walking through a modern palace with how everything looked. “Do you have anyone else living here?” Jacob asked. “No not yet, I haven’t shown any of my friends this place yet but I want to offer them it while their own homes are being built. The majority of them have been getting personal stuff out the way first like healthcare and marriages.” “Understandable. So, what do you want to do first?” Jacob asked. “I actually wanted to immediately head back out, back to Horwich.” “Why? We just came from there.” “I know. I wanted to visit the works first to see if any of you were there and needed help, but I wasn’t just there for the works.” “Really? What else then?”

James gave Jacob a saddened expression. “You remember I’m wild caught right?” “Yes, but what-” Jacob then had an idea of what James was getting at. “Oh! Are you going to try and find your birth family?” Jacob asked. “I know where they are, it’s just a journey I have to take alone. There are some sides of my past that I don’t want you or quite frankly anyone else seeing, and I especially want to have some time with my mother.” Jacob was surprised; even when they were kids James hardly ever talked about his life before he was captured and ran through the trade. Back then James wasn’t even any kind of gemstone, he was just ore rock with a few things from metal to precious stones sticking out of him and he didn’t speak English.

“Okay… I can hang around here for a bit while you’re out. How long do you think you might be gone?” Jacob asked. “I might be gone for a few days if I’m being completely fair… I’m hoping to broaden my knowledge on my unique magic and also catch up with many people.” James admitted. “Where will you be going?” Jacob asked causing James to slope his shoulders and look rather pensive. “Do you remember Aspull pumping pit?” James asked. Jacob gasped, “The pumping pit? What on earth could you want with down there?” “That’s where I was found and roped. And it’s not the pit itself I’m there for, it’s the local mines in the area that the pit drained. Down those mines are where my craft of magic comes from.” Jacob looked very concerned. “Just… please little brother, come back home, preferably in one solid piece.” James hugged Jacob before handing him a cut of the house keys. “I’ve got a wave point set in the back yard, I’ll come back through there when I arrive home, you’ll know it when you hear it. In the studio I’ve got multiple clothes I’ve made that you can try on and have, the completed ones are in a walk in closet, try those on. But I recommend having a shower first. Here’s 500, feel free to use that at the café’s I mentioned. If it’s an emergency here's my personal sigil, you have plenty crystal balls around here to use. And feel free to study up on some magic if you like.” James said handing over a paper and some bills. Jacob smiled and hugged James again before watching him leave back through the ruby he made, once he was gone, Jacob got to searching for a bedroom to pick.

With James he had teleported back to Horwich works, and when he came back through the crystal he immediately shattered it into a red sand that blew away in the wind. Now it was just the long walk to the old pumping pit.

This proved to take under an hour though, much to James’s surprise as he remembered it being a lot longer. Once he was out of Horwich and had run across the train tracks he was into more open farm land as he came closer to Aspull, he followed the farmlands boarders until he came across the forest where the pump now resided in the middle of. He was aware of it’s closing in the 30’s and it now being abandoned, that made it all the more easier to James though.

When he finally found the pit, he was surprised to see how different it looked. The quiet forest a complete contrast to the horrid loud growling the pumps had made back in the day. The tubes gone, and the boilers gone to that operated the pistons. James walked over to the maintenance cover that sat in the ground almost sacrilegiously with how the old moss covered stones looked, he removed it and couldn’t help but shiver as he thought over how he was really doing this, no turning back now.

James gently poked one of the stone pillars, what grew from the spot was a flat plate of ruby. James lifted his luggage up to the mounted ruby and when the gem lit up James’s belongings were teleported through it, acting like a storage pocket dimension. With James unburdened of his packaging his clothing was next, he stripped of all the cloth on his body, leaving his skin and stone left. What was next was something not even his siblings in steel have seen, not even anyone from Sodor. James’s lower body of crystal that resembled a horses began to change and shift, the breaking and grinding of stone took over the silent forest as James began to morph.

Gone became of James’s horn and hooves, his legs becoming two and turning much more human minus the feet. He began to hover off of the ground as the rest of him changed, the gold glitter flow of his tail and frills disappearing and being relocated to his hair, a long whisp of a golden trail started falling from his scalp and trailed far behind him to drag close to the ground. The crystal that attached to his skin began to grow and cover his body more, growing down from his ears to his neck and connecting at his shoulders to his spine then at his new legs. Spikes of ruby grew from James’s more exposed sides of his shoulders and top of his arms, across his hips and even around where his ankles would be. Eventually the only skin that was left was James’s face, front neck, and front chest and ribs. But that wasn’t to say his organic parts didn’t change ether, James’s usually sharp teeth were sharper, turning from canines to outright fangs, his red eyes turning a more fire orange with white pupils and black sclera.

James looked at his hands once he was done, his nails now claws and the world looked so much more different to him now. He was annoyed by the daylight and the lack of any immediate magic around him besides his own made him practically blind on the surface, but underground was a very different story.

He gently lowered down the maintenance hole, and then closed it up once he was under the earth. Instantly his vision was much better, his eyes allowing his sight back once he was in a complete abyss. He lowered down to the bottom of the pit and searched his memory for the old tell-tale signs of caves, once he found where an old pipe used to be James’s old childhood memories came back to him, the routes and the curiosity he used to be so naïve with.

James followed the old holes where the pipes used to be, and eventually he found the water source they used to drain so long ago. James didn’t have any issues about breathing, so he dived into the water and swam through the underground rivers to where they lead. It took a long time, swerving the tight corners and sometimes resurfacing and travelling down the old abandoned mines before needing to dive back into the water again. But eventually, he found what he was looking for.

After another dive into water from a mine, this time the water sucked downward like the plug from a bathtub. James was taken down with it before he was spat out on the other side down a waterfall into a more open natural cave. He fell onto the stone with a thud and clink with a few shards of ruby breaking off, James groaned and just decided to lay there for a second while the pain subsided. That was until he saw something familiar.

Lining the wall above him, was a vain of sapphire. And it wasn’t a normal natural ore, it was like when he made his rubies appear, they had a magic aura to them that James saw as glowing. He instantly shot up from the floor and began to follow the sapphire down the cave, the more he followed the vain the more carved out the cave got, like it was shaping out to be a walk way or tunnel. It ended up being a muralled tunnel as different gemstones suddenly started showing up and forming a picture the further in James followed them.

Eventually he came to the mouth of the tunnel and when he was out the other end what greeted him was a massive miles upon miles long underground ravine with raging waterfalls and a river flowing at the bottom. But what was most surprising was that this ravine was inhabited, along the faces of cliffs and inside some more open spaces of cave were carved out houses into the rock faces. A massive architect of a bridge stretched across the two sides and more bridges roped across on some lower levels, and even from here James could see some species of mythic milling about and going about their days, it was a whole city and society, and it was his old home.

James felt like he wanted to scream with joy as he almost instantly recognised the layout, he was about two-fifths into the ravine and currently in the more middle class suburban area than the city. James knew he needed into the actual city itself and the closer to the capital he got the closer to his old house he’d get, so without any more time wasted, James bolted off down the path he was on to get to the bridges and cross them.

James’s speed made him seem like a sparkler as he ran down paths and roads, he spooked many of the mythic but didn’t stick around long enough to hear them out, quickly crossing town after town before he was rapidly approaching the capital. Once James got close enough to it’s boarders he slowed down considerably to take it all in, these were his city streets, this was his true home he remembered from fifty plus years ago.

As he rounded a corner he finally saw the ravines crown jewel, at the very end on a straight rock face, was a castle mounted on the stone. It had multiple spires and towers, thousands of windows, millions upon millions of fancy decorations, and it was all for one thing. A vampire clan.

Back in the late 18th century a vampire family business discovered a source of gold and coal at the top, and throughout all the mining down, they eventually came across this society of cave golems and other various types of underground mythic. Once they did they began asserting themselves as the ravines monarchy, eventually it didn’t become too uncommon to see bats down here and vampires joining into this society.

James remembered staring at that palace long ago when he was much, much younger. Someday hoping that his father would magically decide one day to come see him from that castle, so he could know who his other half was. James didn’t realise how intensely staring at it he was until someone broke his focus. “Quite the detailed place isn’t it?” A voice next to James said speaking in the local tongue. James quickly had to recollect his old language to answer them. “I-I’ve seen bigger.” James stuttered out hoping he wasn’t forgetting anything. “Are you okay? That came out rather odd.” A cave golem looking similar to James said but without the human flesh part. “Sorry, I haven’t spoken this language in a very long time. I went to the top for a while you see,” James explained to the crystal golem.

“You’ve seen up top-?” the golem seemed to stop himself in his tracks once he got a better look at James, noticing that he wasn’t 100% crystal. And to James’s surprise, he said his old name. “Zirconiame?” “Um, yes actually. Sorry though, have we meet?” “Zircon! Oh my boy it has been a very long time indeed! Yes we have meet, I was the sorcerer that tutored you, don’t you remember that?” James gasped when he did recognise the golem in front of him. “Mr Ospal! Yes I do remember! Sorry for not recognising you sooner, you’ve changed a bit since the last time I saw you.” James gave his old teacher a hug as he was happy to finally see a familiar face. Mr Ospal laughed while gently petting James’s back and setting him down, “I could say the same myself dear boy, your adorning ruby now? And your locks, weren’t they admitting coal dust before? And my you look much older, a lot like those vampires. It seems your mother was right when she said your vampire heritage would show up the more you got older, there’s no mistaking those fangs.”

James almost instinctively hushed his old teacher and began to guide him away from the public spot they were in. “Maybe still keep that vampire knowledge on the low, I don’t know how much has changed but I don’t want to take any chances.” “As your mother always said little Zircon- in little ways where everything stays, I agree keeping your heritage hush might be a good idea for a little while longer. But enough about that, where have you been? You disappeared one day and never came back. You said you came to the top?” Mr Ospal asked.

“The surface, yes. I didn’t listen to my mother’s words and went exploring up the waterfalls, I travelled up and up for hours before I finally found the surface. I was amazed by what I saw, these creatures were of warmer flesh than vampires and only had flat stones for moving on, they motioned with four legs on a long body and a large sharp rock stuck out from their heads and that’s how they casted magic! I ever so wanted to do what they did, pulling items with no magic at all, a whole new language, a whole new set of rules, it was all so exciting that I did everything I could to try and act like them. It worked, but not in the way I thought it would…” James grew sad at the old memories.

“I was wrapped up to tight in thick fabric chains, I was hurting before I knew it and wanted them to stop but they didn’t. I eventually just started crying and pleading with them to let me go but they understood none of my words as I was taken away into an order that didn’t allow me to come back home. Compared to them, they made the vampires appear as the water harmonies. It wasn’t until a few cycles ago did I finally have my freedom back and decided to come see down here again.”

Mr Ospel was horrified by James’s words, they had been told by vampires that creatures up top were much more horrid than they, and judging from James’s experience he was inclined to believe it. But regardless, at least he was home now, that was the good thing. “Well Zircon, I imagen your mother would like to hear it. She had never been the same since you had gone.” James became worried when he heard that, he could imagen his mother not taking it well. “Is she still where her old home was? I was on my way to her when I caught sight of the palace.” “No, she moved after a few years of your disappearance. She now lives down the deep halls of the palace.” James knew what the actual deep halls were, to the cave golem they were less personalised homes, but James knew better when he heard their descriptions, they were cells. His creator being in the palace cells made his heart pound he could feel his teeth begin to poke him gums. The anger in his body must have reflected strongly to his old teacher as Mr Ospel grew concerned.

“Zircon? What is the matter?” “Those deep halls are not something to be called homes, the vampires view them at an entirely different view. Do they except visitors to the deep halls?” “Yes they do, I visit her often. I was actually just on my way.” “May I accompany you?” “I was hoping you would.” Mr Ospel smiled as he began to lead the way to the palace entrance. They travelled over a few bricked roads before coming up to the bridges that entered the castle, James was nervous as he had seen what vampires were capable of up top and didn’t want to be involved in a fight with one despite him being half vampire. James covered the rest of his body in ruby so they wouldn’t become suspicious, but he was still on guard as he saw the entrance guards.

Mr Ospel spoke to them mainly and they let them in without issue, but soon a lone guard escorted them to the dungeons. When they were finally down to the cells, to James’s great shock his mother had a rather swanky prison, it had some flower plants around the room with glowing sunstones above them, a king sized bed in the middle with canopy, and despite the bars being open she could lower a privacy curtain if she wanted. James smiled when he saw her sitting on the bed, but saw that someone was in there with her sitting on the bed, it appeared to be a male vampire.

“Gemini, please… won’t you have something today?” The male vampire said in a tinge of a Scottish accent, causing James to grow concerned. Gemini wasn’t his mother’s name, and what was this about having something today? But Mr Ospel spoke up when he saw the two together however. “Sir Nightingale, how is she today?” Mr Ospel asked as they were let into the cell. “Ah! Mr Ospel, please I am hoping you can convince her to consume today.” It was obvious to James that this Sir Nightingale wasn’t all that fluent in gem-glyph, making him think this man was a doctor. “I actually have hope that this young man may be able to do that better than I.” Mr Ospel said gesturing to James.

James was surprised, but was quickly on it when he realised that his mother hadn’t been eating with what they were implying. James dropped the ruby coving his remaining skin and floated up to his mother’s side, the vampire gasped but quickly floated out of the way. James got under his mother’s face to meet her gaze, she looked at him and instantly perked up with interest at the sight of him. “Mother? What is going on here? Are you alright?” Were the first words out of James’s mouth before he was tackle hugged tightly by his mother. “Zirconiame!” She shrieked as she pulled James into the air with a spin. “Mother! Mother! To tight! My neck!” James cried as his mother’s strong arms crushed his neck. “Ah! Oh my child, I’m so sorry, you are not to hurt are you?” “No, no, no! I am okay, just a little crushed. But mother, what on graces happened to you? Why are you in the palace? Why are you not eating? Who is this man and why do they call you Gemini?” James asked having many questions. “You ask me questions?! Zirconiame! Where have you been? Why have you been gone so long? What happened to you? Why are you in different minerals? What of your tone? You speak as if you have trouble with your voice.”

James gently sat his mother back down on the bed and had a proposal. “Okay, okay! How of this? I answer one question of yours, you answer one question of mine, deal?” “Yes, now- where have you been?” “Ah, that has to also answer my tone. I found my way up to the top.” Both his mother and the vampire next to James gasped. “You have been to the surface young man?!” The vampire shouted with his eyes glowing red. “Yes I did, and please do not authorities me sir, I do not know you. I would also not call being over fifty young.” “It is to over two-hundred.” The vampire said snootily. “Zirconiame, this is your other half, father.”

James’s jaw hit the floor when he heard his mother’s words… this vampire was his father? James looked to the man and could now see the resemblance between him and his more human appearance, but still… last he checked his father was a no show with nothing to do with him or his mother, why was he here now? James switched to English for this as he didn’t want Mr Ospel or his mother knowing what he was really saying. “You are my dad?” Sir Nightingale seemed surprised that James knew fluent English, but rolled with it anyway also in English. “Yes, I am. I can gather that you are upset with me Zirconiame.” “Call me James, it was a new name I insisted on when I was up top.” “Alright then. So, James, you are unhappy with me?”

James sighed. “I confess my anger is more of confusion. Why is my mother in a cell? Why are you suddenly here? Where were you when I was growing up?” “Well, to answer where I was when you were growing up, I was here, in the castle. …Have you been educated on the roles of a vampire clan?” “A vampire hierarchy, yes.” James nodded.

Sir Nightingale went on to explain, switching back to gem-glyph for the golems in the room. “Well, at the time my parents had just pasted, so I fled here to hide from the hunters that killed them, taking on the new title of king and ruling this ravine as its matriarch. While I was still coping from the loss of my parents and suddenly needing to take over a kingdom, I met your mother.” The king paused with a chuckle.

“It in all honestly played out like a romance novel. At the time I thought that we could have you, I thought everyone was moved on with the times and that I was allowed to officially marry your mother and have her be queen beside me with you as the prince, but apparently my vampire subjects still didn’t see it fit. So I was forced to marry a vampire and live my life as such of a typical king and queen, with the relationship I had with your mother and you a secret. But things came to a nasty end when your half-brother was born.”

“-He was born, found out he wasn’t an heir, vamp wifey put logic in her head and discovered about me.” James interrupted having actually heard this story from Harper. The king was surprised and shocked causing James to elaborate, “It’s not the first time I’ve heard that story, heck, I actually have a co-worker who is a hybrid and a vampire heir from America. Now he works on the same railway as me.” “R-Really?” James’s father asked shocked that he wasn’t the only one.

“Yeah, so what happened next? My co-worker said that his step-mum wanted him gone so that her child could be the true heir, did that happen with yours?” James asked. “Yes actually, once my wife found out she set up a warrant on your head. I came to warn your mother and you but when I saw her again she looked in a similar state to now, not eating and just had no life left in her. You were also nowhere to be found.” Nightingale said. “By then you had been missing for a year, I had searched the whole ravine for you and found no trace.” James’s mother said. “So we concluded that if you weren’t here, you had to be up there. I got to searching on the surface for you while also dealing with the many other things that happened, your mother I moved in here so she could be under constant surveillance and so that the other vampires wouldn’t grow iffy, I divorced my wife, I actually got custody of my son, and I still had all the mining business to deal with.” “While searching probably the whole country for me…” James hushed out and slumped down onto the mattress.

“Yes… but, please James, what happened to you?” “James?” the ruby mythic’s mother asked her love. “Ah, that was my new name I choose once I was on the surface. I told Mr Ospel this story already but I’ll give you the abridged version. I followed the waterfalls up from where they came and eventually found the surface, I saw unicorn centaurs working and wanted to be like them, so I shape shifted into looking like them and when I went out in the open I was captured and ran through the trade-” “WHAT?!” The king roared when he heard that, the whole stone around them shaking.

“You were ran through the mythos trade?! That’s why I couldn’t find you, I was looking for you assuming you were ether still looking like a golem or using your vampire side to live amongst them, I had no clue you were in the working class. Where did you end up? What did you do?” James’s father asked sounding really concerned. “What is this trade? Why does it worry you my love?” James’s mother asked sounding concerned as well. “I believe the rest of our sons story will reveal more my Gemini, lets listen.” With that James continued.

“Yes, like I was saying, I was ran through the mythos trade and ended up being put to work as a railway colt. I didn’t know how to speak English at the time, or cast the normal spells that the unicorns did, so it was a few months of trial and error before I got everything right. Afterwards I started to rebel a lot more, I insisted on them naming me instead of just calling me a set of numbers, that got me in a lot of trouble and caused a lot of pain. But at some point the locomotive I was paired with got an overhaul to fix its problems, it worked but they couldn’t do this to all the others and eventually I was sold to another railway where I still work today. I have a new home, I’ve got a big set of land with a nice house I made myself, I have a brother in steel with me at the moment and I have an amazing group of friends, all in all I guess I got what I wanted when I travelled up those waterfalls and saw those unicorns.” James chuckled.

“Where do you live now James?” His father asked. “On an island off of Barrow-in-Furness and in between the isle of man, the island of Sodor.” “Sodor? I’ve heard of that place, my distant cousins visit there for vacations every so often with the Hatt family there.” The king mentioned. “The Hatt’s are my bosses actually, and I think you’re referring to the Duke and Dutchess of Boxford aren’t you?” James asked. “Yes I am! Ohh… you were so close yet so far, I’m disappointed in myself for missing you.” “Well, to be fair, it wasn’t like I wanted to be found out by anybody up there. None of my steel siblings or close friends even know my true origins, the closest they know of it is that I was wild caught and spoke another language while being half made of stone.” James admitted. “Then what did you tell them when you went to come down here?” James’s father asked. “I said I was coming to Horwich to expand my magic knowledge, which wasn’t entirely wrong, I was kind of hoping mother would catch me up to speed.” James’s mother chuckled and slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry to say Zircon that I don’t have much magic left, I would not be able to teach you properly with how little I have.” “I’m in my older years as well Zircon, I would not be able to mentor you ether.” Mr Ospel said.

James thought for a bit before asking, “Do you still have those books on them?” “Yes I do, here, this is them.” James’s mother handed him a flat rock of lapis, it was another magic rock like what James used to teleport his belongings into a pocket dimension. “This is great! Is it all of them?” James asked. “Yes, down to the final addition and master class.” “I can imagen those would be really useful for the times up top.” James’s father commented when his love mentioned master class. “Really, really useful! These could actually help a friend of mine if I predict the craftsmanship of some prosthetics he’s going to get.” James said as he looked eager to bite into the knowledge of the rock. “I agree, if that’s the best those professional alchemists can do then their a flop just waiting to be found out.” James nodded with his father.

“Well then Zircon? What will you be doing going forward?” Mr Ospel asked. “I kind of want to stick around for a bit while I study these, catch up a little and get reacquainted.” James said. “If your looking for more magic knowledge on your plate I can show you these old vampire mage spell books, my other son didn’t take much of an interest in them but you seem to be quite the academic.” James’s mother and Mr Ospel chuckled a little at that since James wasn’t much for school in the past. “I didn’t know vampires had their own magic.” James commented but never the less intrigued. “We do, but its considered old magic, so nobody really bothers with it anymore. It’s on the lines of necromancy if that’s something you’d want to look into.” James nodded his head enthusiastically with a big smile on his face.

The king chuckled, and got up to show him where the books were, switching back to English. “There in the library, there’s also a study that you can use, but I’d recommend practicing your alchemy magic outside.” “I can work with that,” James smiled before giving his mother a hug and kiss on the cheek, “I’ll come and visit you every day, I love you so much mother.” James’s mum kissed his forehead before letting him go, watching as his father guided him out the cell and back up the stairs. She then proceeded to have a coughing fit, hacking up clouds of dust and gravel and grinded lapis. Mr Ospel caught her before she fell back on the bed and sat her up right so she wouldn’t choke. “Lazillie, do you really think you can afford to spend any more time spent lost with him? You don’t have much time, you should follow them up to the study.” Mr Ospel pleaded. “No…” Lazillie croaked out. “I’ve had my best memories with my child… Harlow deserves his best moments with his son just as much as I had. My boys deserve some time together.” Mr Ospel was very concerned and hoped she knew what she was doing, because he didn’t have the heart to tell her son that his mother that he just saw again after fifty years was dying.

For the rest of the month James had gotten into a new routine, he would see his mother at every mealtime and eat with her, while the other time was spent with his father in the study hall. Apparently his majesty had wanted to take up alchemy for the longest time but the methods that the golems used wasn’t translatable very well to written form, so James did his best in coaching him through the beginners steps. During this time James also took up a new form while in the castle of a far more human body, even wearing pants and shoes for the first time in his life, the ruby of his body pushed so far up his limbs that it looked like his nails were painted and he had red earrings in.

He also had the pleasure of meeting his half-brother Damon who was a pure blooded vampire prince, but since James was the heir that made this vampire a duke. Needless to say they didn’t get along all to swimmingly, Damon was three years younger than James but sometimes he made it sound like they were thirty years apart, he complained like a man child all the time and argued with James about every conversation even if James was in the right. It especially ticked James off when he insisted he was right about alchemy even if the guy had never bothered to read a word of gem-glyph in his life, so James often took a page out of Toby’s book and let the man child make a fool of himself to prove a point. It didn’t make their father any to pleased but it was plenty satisfying.

In the end James got a lot more skills than he initially thought he’d come back with, he graduated up to archivist in his alchemy studies that was essentially a master’s degree, he got to the level of bachelor in his vampire sorcery, he also walked away with a diploma in fashion as a tailor had offered to teach him in the middle of his other studies. All in all, James was pretty darn proud of himself for doing all that in the span of a month.

At the end he wished his family well and gave them his address so they could visit him, but under the guise of being old friends. So it was surprise that not even a week after James had come back home, Sir Bertrum announced that the vampire king of Aspull was coming to Sodor for a vacation along with the Duke and Dutchess of Boxford.

But that is a story for another day…

#mythic!au #ttte #ttte james #cw implied abuse #cw slavery #cw abuse #cw terminal illness #cw kidnapping

[atopearth]

Final Fantasy XVI Part 2 - Fighting to Live On Your Own Terms

I didn't expect Mid to be Cid's daughter.. Anyway, really weird tonal change in the game to suddenly start running errands lol. I didn't expect that removing the brand runs the risk that the person might die because one wrong cut or whatever and the poison from the ink could kill them😰 Well, Torgal resembling Fenrir was what I thought when we first saw the change haha. Dion seems to be a kind prince with a heartless father and scheming stepmother lol. Olivier seems very reliant on his mother, Anabella but he is young so that's normal. Gotta say though, I still think Anabella is the hottest out of everyone haha! Anyway, Clive's uncle, Byron Rosfield is a very funny and chill guy. He's so rich but so endearing, it was so funny when he gobbled up all the food in the desert inn before Clive fought against Barnabas' men who escorted Kupka. It's just sad that Joshua was so close but Clive still missed him. Harbard is pretty hot, I will look forward to seeing more of him😆 I've read comments about the Titan fight being really good, but I didn't expect the 10/10 effort they put into it, that fight was definitely visually stunning, and Titan looked awesome!

The mystery surrounding Ultima continues, but I wonder if he's some sort of otherworldly being that's trying to get Clive to gather all the Eikon powers and then destroy the world and make a new one or something to become a true God. Anyway, Barnabas has finally appeared again! He seems to know about Mythos, so I wonder if he knows what exactly Ultima is. As for Dion, he's got death flags flying everywhere that if he survives in the end, I'd be surprised haha, he seems like such a good boy and he's pretty too. Terence and Dion! They felt like a thing with how carefully Terence was treating him but dang, definitely didn't expect the kiss to solidify my assumptions! It makes me happy though. I thought Dion was alone, fighting by himself against his father's tyranny and Anabella's scheming, but it seems like regardless of what happens in the future, knowing that he at least had the one he loves beside him gives me a bit more comfort. I'm glad Joshua made it to Dion safely! I'm excited to see how things will go!

Quinten once being a part of the judiciary in Sanbreque is interesting, but it's sad to find out that his entire family was slaughtered after finding out how disgusting the Lord Chief Justice was hunting bearers. Very interesting that Quinten created this army gathering people in Lostwing to exact revenge on him though. I really wanted to choose Otto to go along with Clive to gather stardust since I want to know more about him, but how could I reject a chance to hang out with Gav?! I mean, I've been noticing the pacing issues, but gathering stuff for Mid to build a ship?! Is that what the leader of everyone does? I mean, if it was a sidequest yeah, but this is the main quest, it's just so random, especially since there's no context for this ship and why we need to build it other than its something Cid and Mid designed together. I mean, it'll definitely be useful but I really didn't need to run around that much zzz. Anyway, I just wanted to say, imagine going all the way across the map to buy one garlic and some nuts, I died. I definitely recommend picking Jill to go with to Northreach. Seeing her so happily reminiscing about memories with Clive and Torgal in Rosalith back in the day whilst enjoying a little picnic was really cute. It felt like we were finally getting to see a bit more of the happy and innocent Jill she once was.

It's sad that Mid doesn't want to go to Cid's grave, but I'm glad we got to visit it! It's been a while and I definitely miss Cid. I really enjoyed having everyone here and reaffirm their goals of destroying all the Mothercrystals, especially considering how even more terrible the environment has become, literally death of nature everywhere. Since we only have one crystal left, I wonder if I'm nearing the end of the game? Eloise and Theodore are such a good looking pair of siblings! I guess it should have been expected that regardless of what Joshua says, Dion's priority will always be the empire and I honestly can't blame him for it (even if I do think that I agree with Joshua that we need to look at the bigger picture here), because considering all the scenes we've seen with Dion, he has always been at war trying his best to protect his people. He would never abandon his people knowing that they would perish if he's not there. However, I'm not too sure how overthrowing Anabella and the new Emperor Olivier will go. And I also kinda wish Dion gave up on his father because Sylvestre isn't any better. One thing I would have appreciated from the game is if we could have gotten more interesting side side characters? It's always the Eikon and their loyal attendant/vassal/knight lol. Anyway, Dion going out of control and destroying the kingdom and hurting his people is saddening. I was happy when Joshua set out to stop him, but I didn't realise he could still become the Phoenix.

Well, the fight against Bahamut was visually stunning (once again!)! My favourite part was definitely getting to see Joshua and Clive fight together and hug each other afterwards. It's been much too long. I didn't realise that Bahamut has a move called Zetaflare though haha! Most disappointing thing for me was how things ended for Anabella though, it just felt so pathetic considering how many people she betrayed and how scheming she was to just go like that. I honestly wanted her to live and redeem herself. Olivier being some sort of creation of Ultima's used to lead the Empire to their destruction and to probably get Clive to absorb Bahamut was sad because even though I harboured no hope for Sylvestre, Dion obviously viewed him in a good light because he used to not be like this. Since we never got to see how he was, I personally have no view towards this whole thing, but if you want me to think of it as if he was my brother, then I can understand why Dion refused to give up on trying to get him to come back to his senses, just saddening that Dion ended up accidentally killing him, which is something no one should have to ever bear, that grief, anger and pain probably made him vulnerable to being brainwashed by Ultima into going out of control, not that I think he would have been able to go against it in the end, but I guess it made it easier.

But yes, the fights were pretty and relatively fun. A gripe that I have though is that I wish the game let you save or had points where it would let you save because these cutscenes and fights are so long and I'm an old lady that needs to sleep earlier lolll. All in all, I'm glad Joshua is back with us, the brotherly love between him and Clive is just so sweet. As for Barnabas, is he brainwashed or willingly following Ultima? Either way though, he seems mentally weak or unwell. Joshua kissing Jote's forehead was adorable though, I ship it. But glad to know how Joshua survived and why Jote has been by his side the whole time. I wonder why they didn't appear until that late to protect Joshua though. I'm glad we finally got to see the ending for Lostwing because I've been curious. I'm just sad that all those people died protecting Quinten and to achieve his revenge. But I guess they might have all died if they stayed in Lostwing when it got flooded with aether, but yeah oh well, at least there are people alive and Quinten has newfound resolve in building a nation. I'm also glad they're finally going back to Eastpool and making it a home again because that's where Wade and them should be.

I was wondering why Sleipnir sounds familiar, and of course, he's the horse ridden by Odin! Really goes to show his loyalty to Barnabas. Sad that he just died like that though. It's kinda amusing to see that Barnabas is a league above Clive but is that because he's Odin or something else? Very sweet of Jill to use herself as a shield to protect Clive and let the others help him escape without any hesitation. What I'm glad about is that through Blackthorne's quest, they are starting to share Cid's inventions helping people to stop relying on crystals for furnaces etc and truly getting to a self-sustainable world without crystals driving their lives. I'm very happy for Blackthorne that he has such a good friend like August always watching over him and his mental health haha, couldn't ask for more! Ooh okay, Sleipnir is a magical creation of Odin's so there's many of him! Very happy to know because he's cool. But not very happy because he doesn't do anything haha, where's the personality?!

Anyway, pretty cool when Odin split the sea in two. But the highlight is definitely the scene at the beach! Awkward nakedness😂 Anyway, it was nice for Jill to finally get to properly convey to Clive how much she wants to share in his burden and how she's willing to entrust everything of hers to him and support him. And they finally kissed! And did more but that's not important haha, I'm actually just really excited to use Shiva, I used to think we'd be able to control Jill but I guess this will have to do. Honestly, I feel so bad for Theodore and Eloise. I really liked them, so seeing Theo turn Akashic and kill himself so he wouldn't hurt Eloise was so sad. He never got to know that Eloise was happy to live the life she did no matter how tough it was, and that just looking at him made her understand that she never regretted her choice of saving him instead of choosing the easy way out. I'm really heartbroken that they couldn't have the happy ending they deserved. I didn't expect L'ubor to be a Bearer, very terrible that no matter the status, the moment it comes out, people can only see them as a Bearer and nothing else. Dalimil doesn't deserve L'ubor. I've always liked Martha so it was nice to see her motivate the Bearers. Blackthorne and Zoldat forging a weapon together was cute.

The medicine girl saved Dion! Such a nice little girl! I'm actually kinda glad Joshua punched Clive because I guess it is true that he is now taking on the burden himself by taking Shiva from Jill. I was so worried when Joshua separated from Clive, I hope he's okay. As for the complete mural, I'm not surprised that Phoenix is technically the one that doesn't "belong" but what does he represent? Is that the wings of Ultima? Does the Phoenix recreate/rebirth this world? Well, the fight against Barnabas was certainly visually disappointing and mentally tedious. How ironic that the Dominant of Odin who commands great strength and is revered across the land as a unparalleled swordsman had the weakest will of everyone and wasn't able to go against a god. Maybe that just goes to show how strong Ultima is but honestly, I don't think so. Odin is still the best looking Eikon for me, but it's sad that his story, his mystery and his existence didn't add much to the story or to what we know of Ultima.

I was just about to say, I'm so glad Terence is alive! And then now he's gone to save the medicine girl, which is understandable since Dion will never forgive himself for what he did and the damage he caused, so all he can do is mend as much as he can and help his people in any way he could, but still, I feel bad for Terence. Dion knows that Terence could never go against his orders and having to force him to be away from him when Dion is in the most danger would break his heart. Honestly, I love the brotherly love between Joshua and Clive, seeing them exert their utmost to protect the other always warms my heart and makes me so happy. Ultima is like a kid throwing a tantrum. He set his game up for someone else (he created) to play, went to sleep and then got mad that they had to discover their own way to play the game because they were never given instructions by him, and now wants his toy to relinquish everything they've learnt and listen to him again and then he'll accept them as his toy again lol. Barnabas was naive to think that Ultima would accept them even if they had no will.

All in all, the fight against Bahamut was definitely my favourite part. Not only was it absolutely beautiful, I really like Dion and his suffering for hurting his people, it's something I could feel for. Most disappointing thing was definitely Odin because I've been so excited for him since the moment I saw Odin and fell in love, but nooo. It's funny though, because I actually thought Bahamut was ugly and I really didn't care for him when he first appeared but now it's the favourite loll. Titan was also great in that it was nicely built up but I have to say that there were too many diversions to get there that by the time we fought Titan, I kinda forgot (sorry) why we hated him so much LOL. This is what happens when you don't get to play every day and you're stuck doing random quests until the real thing lol, so yeah that sucked but it was still good. Dion and Joshua are definitely my favourite characters though!

#final fantasy xvi #ffxvi #final fantasy 16

[theomnicode]

The Shadow that Snuck Too Close; Finnish folklore, Falling into the notch and Fateful encounter

Reading up on some mythology again and after a helpful tip from my buddy, I saw some interesting references to finnish mythology in OPM manga. I'd like to go over some pertinent things that may be referenced and how it then relates to OPM OVA 1 in season 1.

Specifically, loveen lankeaminen (falling into the cleft/notch).

Finns may recognice some similarities with the song from Kotiteollisuus with Garou that I was linked by a friend of mine.

Too long post ahead. Despite being finnish, funnily enough, there's probably a lot of holes in my knowledge about finnish mythos, so some concepts might be convoluted or difficult to explain (especially when im relying on a translator because there is no english wiki and even then the context differs at times). And I have little clue if there are similar things referenced in mythos elsewhere.

Lovi is a supernatural state or place in Finnish mythology. Lovi was apparently an underwater or underground Tuonela or a gap between the afterlife and reality. The Lovi could be located under a lake, for example in another lake behind a hole in the bottom of the lake, like the Saivo-vainajala of the Saami. It is known in particular for the tradition of notching and notch-hoisting.

In Finnish folklore, falling in lovi means a journey to the underworld, possibly by a wise man or shaman who falls into a trance state. Sometimes falling in lovi can also mean trance practised by other peoples. Cultural researchers and anthropologists have also traditionally referred to the Saami trance journey as loveenlankeja, although the Saami have their own term for the delivery. The English translation of the Bible also mentions 'falling in love'. Love is usually a process of asking ancestors for information. In colloquial language, the word 'falling in lovi' has also come to mean 'falling in love' as a derivative of the English word 'love'.

The souls of deceased members of one's own family may, for example, have been raised from the notch into the human air by casting spells, for example, to become characters or guardian spirits.

(excuse the bad Deep L translations)

Specifically, Lovi is the name of a narrow cleft, hole, notch and lankeaminen means falling in, sinning, straying, indulging, giving in.

And yes, it is very specifically also a wordplay about falling in love. With a somewhat negative connotation that one is not supposed to.

But also in this case, it's a shamanistic journey for Saitama through the gap between afterlife and reality. Shamanism is depicted in the Phoenixman versus Child emperor fight.

There are many similarities between the Sanzu river and finnish Tuonela, so by intents and purposes, it's the same place being referenced. The spiritual world and the afterlife. Saitama can access this place, as we saw when he punched his way into the spiritual place made by Phoenixman.

The gods or spirits is more than likely a reference to guardian spirit, but also in finnish, the term Luonto not only means nature, but also:

Luonne eli Luonto refers to the significant functional features of a thing or phenomenon that persist in different situations. Luonne often refers to the individual characteristics of the behaviour and state of mind of a conscious or sentient being, such as a human or animal

The original meaning of the word 'nature' (luonto) is the protector of man. The word nature has the same meaning. According to Finnish mythology, human nature is a spirit being that follows man and influences his happiness, character and success. Only later has the word nature acquired its present meaning. Etymologically, the word 'nature' refers to creation.

Nature is a bit like the guardian angel of Christianity. Every human being has a nature that follows him, protecting him and bringing him happiness. People with a strong nature, those with a strong nature guardian, often do better than those with a weak nature. Nature sometimes appears as a double of man. Nature can precede man as a figurehead. This is how the term "Etiäinen" has been explained.

Lots of wordplays here again, excuse the deep L translations. But a guardian spirit that would essentially follow a man and influence a person's happiness, character and success. But also how the nature of a man precedes them as a figurehead.

It opens up an interesting interpretation about monsters, the true intention and what the God/thing below truly is (as it appeared to Homeless emperor in gusts of wind like a nature spirit).

It is not the first time Saitama has been refered to as monstrous, abominable fist and how he himself feels like his destructive nature is monstrous. And how killing monsters seemingly awakens this nature in him.

(yea that is the very definition of lovi if I've ever seen one, falling into the cleft/notch)

It may be a reference to Saitama "falling in love" with his monster nature and embracing it by killing monsters with his divine power.

It may also be a reference to shaman-adventurer Lemminkäinen journey In Kalevala to Pohjola when he gets thrown to Tuonela. Tuonela is the finnish underworld of death. The shamanistic journey one makes when in a trance-like state to visit Tuonela by tricking the guards.

Also in the Kalevala, the adventurer-shaman Lemminkäinen goes to Pohjola to woo the daughter of Louhi, a powerful old sorceress. Louhi gives Lemminkäinen three tasks he must complete to woo her daughter. While trying to complete the third task, killing the swan of Tuonela, Lemminkäinen is cut into pieces by a water snake and thrown into a whirlpool in the river of Tuonela. Lemminkäinen's mother is alerted of his death by a magical charm. She goes to the river, and rakes out the pieces of her son's body. With the help of a bee, Lemminkäinen's mother pieces together his body, and brings him back to life.

In some piece of mythos, Lemminkäinen's mother does not raise Lemminkäinen back to life however.

(notably the only places I've heard Saitama say "ow" is when cat scratched him, when he's in this whirlpool and when he's very deep inside the earth next to laval)

(it may be a reference to how spirits are more sensitive to cold and heat and how Saitama still gets cold shivers)

Before actually meeting Orochi, Saitama felt really shit spiritually after going around in the underground for quite some time.

(Looks really like a water snake huh?)

But once he took a dip in the lava and used his divine power to kill Orochi, he felt a lot better. Orochi became a sacrifice in more ways than one it would appear.

The third task of Lemminkäinen, killing the sacred swan of the underworld with one arrow, is a failure, just like how Saitama does not kill Orochi in one blow. And attempting to kill it is punishable by death.

It may also be a reference to Garou as the swan of the underworld, corrupted in black and Saitama ultimately, does not kill Garou either. But he makes an attempt and opts not to. The riverbed in the cover has many similarities not just with the riverbed of the sanzu, but also Saivo. There is a depiction of dead fish and bird carcasses in the shore.

Lakes Saivo are thought to have been fishy and their fish particularly good. Their occasional lack of fish is explained by their double bottom (reahpenjávrit, 'rag lakes'). According to many Sámi beliefs, in some very fishy lakes no fish can be found because the fish have gone through a hole in the middle bottom into another lake below the bottom.

(I've also read some thoughts about how Garou looks graceful when he fights, like a ballerina dancing with dainty hands and pointy ballerina feet and it can absolutely be a reference to the ballet Black swan)

Loveen langennut, someone who fell in love, like feeling familial love between someone who you think is a grandpa figure and being a big brother to someone who needed protection, falls into the notch between afterlife and reality. Loveen langennut, someone who gives in and strays and indulges and sins in the feeling of love. Basically fallen.

The days are like cold nights of the hoarder light or a black, long tunnel, at the end of which you can see only thirst, say I can't say it better, I'd cry now even if I were sober I look behind me and I'm a pillar of salt to these in these corners

Kerto:

You make me resist God, you make me resist the world You've fallen in love I don't know if it's evening or morning I have lived with the living now I die away with the dead fallen in love I am and I walk pale as a ghost fallen in love I am and I walk pale as a ghost fallen in love

I walk like a little boy, staring at my shoes or the street There was no prince, no princess, there was no fairy tale But a street I don't know how, and though my bottle is not enough, perhaps I can only sigh. But I'll sing praises to it, I'll shelter it I'm going to take her to my bosom

Tell

I can see with these dim eyes, When it arrives Death walks in its blackness, And falls at last my world, And I know not how to fear To the hard world no more No need to wake up

He saw with his hazy eyes a black figure that offered him such kindness that he desired, so he fell into the notch. And for resisting God, he was turned into salt.

The whirlpool of Tuonela may also be referenced in the inner universe. Possibly the area between time and space, the spiritual realm, like the God below seems to be inside a time dilation.

So naturally, the God above is not pleased about this progression. About any of it. Saitama wasn't supposed to kill Orochi (I think) and he was supposed to kill Garou, to erode his humanity, his trust in it and what is good and evil and human and monstrous. As it is trying to brainwash Saitama into doing his bidding.

(I like that eye of sauron reference haha)

God's evil eye may also be a reference to Kade, finnish folklore witch who harmed others with their jealousy.

Kade is a witch in Finnish folklore who has magical powers and is believed to be able to harm others with her jealousy. Often the kade would look with an evil eye, so being the object of the kade's gaze was the most dangerous thing to do.

So how does any of this pertain the OVA 1 special episode anyways?

We look into the mythology of the self in finnish mythos.

The self has apparently been, according to the ancient Finnish concept, a part of the human soul, a spirit being, a soul being, belonging to the soul and separate from the other parts. The pronoun Itse has become the modern Finnish pronoun itse. Only a few signs of the concept of the self as a spirit being have survived in the Eastern Finnish language area, but in some distant languages the equivalent of the word 'self' means exclusively the part of the soul. In Mordvian, for example, issi is a soul being, of which humans had several. The self could in some way correspond to Nature, which was most often perceived as a guardian outside the soul, but which nevertheless gave its name to a fundamental feature of the human soul, nature.

The Self is like a shadow or shadow soul of the soul, separate from the self but parallel to it, as it were a reflection of it. The Self may even be a parallel double of the human body. The Self can precede man in his figure. The human figure of the Self walking in front of the human figure can cause Etiäinen.

The self may have been lost, making the human being selfless. A selfless person is seriously ill, pale, depressed or unhappy. For example, the self may have been taken away by the devil from the person who broke his oath. The deceased may have taken the self to the underworld (deceased's grave) even before the person died. Alcoholism can also take the self. In terms of how the self can be lost, it would seem that the self would mean something like self-esteem, self-image or conscience, which can be taken or corrupted by, for example, guilt, self-loathing or deep depression.

Before or at death, the self has gone its own way, and may, for example, have shown itself to distant living relatives. The person himself has also eventually become a dead person. On the other hand, ghosts, such as the egret, (myling) may be the person who has remained in the human world. One suggested origin for the name ihtiriekko is a dialect form of the word itseriekko.

In essence, the implication is that Saitama has lost part of his self, his spirit, which are his soul images. It has been taken from him by something and that's why he's ailed by his waning humanity and emotions. So he is not physically dead but essentially spiritless and has the eyes of a dead fish. Most likely because he too, just like Garou, dared to fall in love at some point of his soul's existence and the loss of such contributes to his dull existence.

That's why he feels like he's not part of the reality any longer or part of the society that he talks about with King.

Helene Schjerfbeck painted a great depiction of the spirit leaving the body and growing world weary and older. I have personally thought in the past if Saitama feels time different due to his powers and why he thinks people like Genos are "so young", despite his mental age not being that much older at 25 years old.

She painted many paintings throughout his life, depicting ageing and the gradual separation of the spirit from the body. In her self-portrait from 1945, little remains of her externally due to her ageing.

You make me resist God, you make me resist the world You've fallen in love I don't know if it's evening or morning I have lived with the living now I die away with the dead fallen in love I am and I walk pale as a ghost

Genos saved his spirit and so, Saitama has fallen into the notch just like Garou. Caring about someone, loveen langennut, falling in love, made him almost destroy the entire world.

It is very symbolic how the heavens and earth is parted between them when they met. There is a notch, a line between them and the other side is bloody. But also full of life.

A human leprechaun (guardian) can go away from a person for a long time. In this case, the person is elfless, i.e. unhappy, sick or depressed. The elf is often pale or bloodless, having lost his blood. The bearer may also be left behind if the person moves quickly and over long distances. The condition is also known as loneliness (without self). This refers to the self as a special being. However, the equivalence of the self with nature is uncertain, though not impossible.

More wordplays because haltijoitunut, like having an elf, is a wordplay about being passionate. Such as when Saitama is passionate and protects other people, he rediscovers his inner self, his spirit. When he protected a little kid from monster, notably.

Pale and bloodless is reference to Zombieman looking pale because he's a depiction of undead.

Saitama himself stated to king how he feels hollow and how he feels lonely, without self. He's not living properly. He has lost his lifeblood and that's why he attempts to hurt himself so much, to keep the lifeblood flowing and desperate attempt to feel life drum inside his veins, why he seeks out opponents to fight and for a tough fight. He had lost his life and will to live.

The bearer having been left behind if the person moves too quickly and over long distances, may be a reference to God's mural.

The God being below inside Earth, may be a reference to what is known as Myling in scandinavian folklore. It is also a depiction of a human cardiovascular system, the lifeblood that one is supposed to have coursing through their veins in order to life. The shadow of the soul. In finnish mythos, the shadow of the soul is let loose once a person sleeps and in death permanently.

Saitama's dream scenario against the subterraneans basically.

Shadow of the self is also a concept in Jungian psychology.

According to Finnish beliefs, the Ihtiriekko (also bastard, flame, foetus) is the ghost of a child or foetus buried without blessing, baptism or in the wrong place. It was often said that an ihtirieko was buried under the house of its mother and cried in a gruesome way. Nowadays, the egret can be called a young, noisy troublemaker Finnish ancient religions -book source more details? it is said of the sword of yew as follows; "The sword of yew is the body of a child born in secret, killed in secret and buried in secret, which will not rest in peace unless someone reveals the child's mother or receives a blessing." It was often said that the widow's mite was a bastard child killed by the mother to keep an illicit relationship secret. Even the child's body had to be disposed of in secret, it could not be taken to church and could not be blessed by the priest. So the child was buried under the house, in the woods or in the garden. The child's soul was put in a state of suspended animation, it could not enter the afterlife because it was not blessed. The one buried in the yard would cry and disturb the people in the house, or if the body was in the woods, the ghost would frighten passers-by with his cries. The ghost would only stop haunting if someone found the body and gave it a proper burial. One possible explanation for the name is the dialect form of the word itse-riekko. This would mean the shadow soul or soul bird of a slain child among the bird's characters. Itse is a human shadow soul found in Finnish mythology, which was believed to remain on earth to haunt after death. Another meaning of the ambiguous flame is the restless soul of a wrongly buried child.

The implications can get pretty dark.

Whether this is a parallel universe or not is unclear, but monsters started appearing when Saitama was only 2 years old and when he first got his infantile sense of omnipotence. The ability to manipulate causality, space and time, his inner child.

So take that as you will. There may also be soul reincarnation at play. Or parallel universes. Or doppelgängers or twins or time travel shenanigans.

The belief that mylings are enraged and seeking revenge is what gave them the reputation as one of the most menacing types of ghosts in Scandinavian folklore.

Enraged, wrathful god Asura who wants to kill humanity is depicted in Saitama's dream scenario as well and as a hidden easter egg, you can see the words "ashura" written on the hand. According to Phoenixman and Vaccineman, humanity is a disease that needs to be wiped out.

Anyways, that's a lot of probably unnecessary amount of prefacing because I found the mythos connections quite interesting.

We know God can manipulate time. Saitama can now travel in time. Genos has the memory of how to time travel. Parallel worlds are apparently a thing. The godly being below may be related to Saitama's soul/spirit. We have a lot of ways to explain the following phenomena that happens in the OVA1.

When Saitama notices a mysterious shadow inside his room. And interesting stuff happens.

I am putting my money on doppelganger.

A doppelgänger refers to a person who bears a striking resemblance to someone else, another person who looks the same. It can also refer to an imaginary ghostly counterpart of a person, a second self, a full face or a copy of a person. In fiction, the motif of the double is usually based on the physical resemblance of two people, with unexpected consequences for the person and his or her environment. In folklore, the real doppelganger is often accompanied by invisible doppelgangers, which refer to another self or soul of the person. They usually describe a person's spiritual upheaval A belief doppelganger is a being that appears in the form of a person without being the person. The double may be part of the person's own spiritual being, or it may be a separate spirit being or an elf, for example, the person's guardian. Of the guardian beings, at least the demon of the Greek tradition and nature of the Finnish tradition sometimes appeared as a double. The doppelganger could also be a shadow soul. In many cultures it has been believed that every human being has some kind of double or shadow person. This doppelganger may live underground in another reality very much like our own, perhaps even upside down, or it may live in a spirit reality. The doppelganger may also be in a different time from the actual person, ahead or behind them. This kind of explanation has sometimes been used to try to explain etherealism, divination or haunting. Premonitions would be due to the arrival of the doppelganger somewhere before the actual person, while haunting would be due to the doppelganger's wandering along the path of life after the actual person has already died. Divination has been explained in terms of the doppelganger having already experienced something that is yet to happen to the person, and being able to tell about it. Meeting your own double is sometimes thought to be an impossibility. Sometimes seeing a doppelganger is thought to foretell disaster.

About this phenomena called Etiäinen.

According to folklore, an animal is an image, double or sensory impression of a person, who goes before him and does or is about to do the same things that the person later does. The experience of encountering such a 'being' can also be called 'ethereal'. The entity can be heard, sometimes even seen. For example, people may hear a family member walk into the yard, open the door, even see this figure or shadow, until they realise that he or she has not actually come yet. Soon, however, the family member comes and repeats the same thing as the person who came before them. The etiäinen is three days old and follows the characteristics of its human counterpart. Especially energetic elves have the ability to act as messengers outside their host. The word can also mean foreboding

In Finnish folklore, all places and things, and also human beings, have a haltija (a genius, guardian spirit) of their own. One such haltija is called etiäinen—an image, doppelgänger, or just an impression that goes ahead of a person, doing things the person in question later does. For example, people waiting at home might hear the door close or even see a shadow or a silhouette, only to realize that no one has yet arrived. Etiäinen can also refer to some kind of a feeling that something is going to happen. Sometimes it could, for example, warn of a bad year coming.

In modern Finnish, the term has detached from its shamanistic origins and refers to premonition. Unlike clairvoyance, divination, and similar practices, etiäiset (plural) are spontaneous and can't be induced. Quite the opposite, they may be unwanted and cause anxiety, like ghosts. Etiäiset need not be too dramatic and may concern everyday events, although ones related to e.g. deaths are common. As these phenomena are still reported today, they can be considered a living tradition, as a way to explain the psychological experience of premonition.

One explanation given for the detail of the apparition is that when a person is waiting for someone, their anticipation can augment everyday sounds, for example of a cat or the wind, and bring to consciousness a vivid recollection of the person. This recollection will tend to produce the feeling that the remembered person is "coming". If no one comes, the "possible etiäinen" is forgotten. The failure of this explanation is that etiäinen is not necessary when you expect someone to come. It more often indicates an unexpected visitor who would otherwise come as a surprise without phone calls or any kind of announcement beforehand.

It is also a type of Haltija.

A haltija (haltia) is a spirit, gnome, or elf-like creature in Finnish mythology that guards, helps, or protects something or somebody. The word is possibly derived from the Gothic haltijar, which referred to the original settler of a homestead—although this is not the only possible etymology. It can also be derived from the Finnish verb hallita, which means 'to rule', 'to command', 'to master'. The word is also used in modern Finnish to mean, depending on the context, holder, occupant, lord, master, owner-occupier, occupier, possessor, bearer, or owner. There are many different kinds of haltijas. There are, for example water haltijas and forest haltijas. Even graveyards have their own haltijas (kalman väki, "death folk").

(The joke goes that Genos is the housewife. The joke reference may be a bit more serious and accurate than that. If it quacks like a duck and acts like a duck, it's probably a duck)

(In one OVA, Saitama gives the keys to his house to Genos, who then protects it. Albeit it does get burned. Genos is just kind of dangerous like that, it's in his very nature. He burns like the firey soul that he is)

Väki (folk) of fire: (tulen väki) means spirits of fire, but also the destructive forces of fire and healing power of warm air, for example in a sauna.

Person 1: There it is, standing in front of the spacecraft! This is trouble, your mom got a call from someone, saying she was your fiancee! Person 2: No, it can't be! And the alien's been taken out. Person 1: She contacted me too. "Everyone in my way has been eliminated. I can't wait for our date tomorrow." Person 2: I never agreed to any dates! The woman's more dangerous than the aliens! Saitama: Man...stalkers are really scary.

Saitama wonders how he would handle it if that anger or grudge from being defeated by him turned into some kind of warped love.

And then suddenly, a shadow appears in his room and he instinctually senses it and turns around, only to see nothing.

"This place is getting pretty messy."

Something happened when Genos started stalking Saitama.

Saitama experienced a premonition. An Etiäinen had appeared. Or multiple ones. Etiäinen takes 3 days to appear according to folklore, exactly how long Genos had been stalking Saitama. 72 hours and 26 minutes to be precise and after Saitama went to bed.

Quite possibly he experienced an Etiäinen of Genos. An ethereal image of a family member apparition, a shadow, then the family member comes and repeats what was done later. And what does Genos naturally do first? Clean. And feed Saitama good food. In this case specifically, get some udon. Which they go get later.

Saitama actually got haunted for real too.

If you look closely...

Saitama's computer desk is suddenly far more clean and the items are now placed on top of the window balcony and the window leading to the kitchen. What appears to be possibly a sports bottle and bag of chips. The trashbag is also suspiciously absent.

Only a leaflet of Udon place remains, advertising it for 570yen. That wasn't there before. Where did it come from?

(Subtle, real subtle. I love how anime has small details like this)

You could say that maybe Saitama just cleaned in between, but then he would've had to change his clothes to go outside and take out the trash. And nobody takes out the trash during the nighttime. He watched a movie and went straight to laundering his clothes.

So why is this leaflet of Udon place important? That suddenly appeared on his desktop?

"if I continue being a hero, this won't be the last time someone's out for revenge against me. That is my fate. It can't be helped."

After Genos stole his fry, Saitama was left annoyed and he was having a bad day and he was in a bad mood, so he wanted some comfort food as replacement for the poor meal he had previously. So he went to check out this Udon place where he had a leaflet for. His favourite foods usually tend to lift his spirits, figuratively and metaphorically.

"I just need to change how I think. Right, I need to think positively! I just have to believe there will be people in this world who appreciate all the things that I do. I became a hero three years ago. I'm not saying I need fans, but it would be nice if someone noticed what I've been doing…"

Then Saitama has a sudden recollection about the person who wanted to become his disciple.

"Oh yea there was that guy who wanted to become my disciple."

One explanation given for the detail of the apparition is that when a person is waiting for someone, their anticipation can augment everyday sounds, for example of a cat or the wind, and bring to consciousness a vivid recollection of the person. This recollection will tend to produce the feeling that the remembered person is "coming". If no one comes, the "possible etiäinen" is forgotten

This new Udon place becomes more important later too. It is the very same Udon place he takes Genos into later after they spar, but now he ran low on funds because he had visited this Udon place to eat food previously. So he initiated an Udon eating contest.

What the Udon eating contest does is endear Genos to Saitama, but afterwards it was also when he and Genos officially became professional heroes.

(Theme of jealosy, the hidden monster and Saitama beating it also present)

Without Genos, Saitama would have never become a professional hero. And without Genos, Saitama wouldn't have been saved from his loneliness. From his spiritual demise. Chances are, he would have remained in a bad mood if there just hadn't happened to be a convenient Udon place nearby that he just happened to have a leaflet for. Or turned to the more convenient and cheaper alchohol. To forget and dull the memories.

Once in Tuonela, the living were not allowed to leave. They would be welcomed by Tuonetar, who would offer them a memory-erasing beer to erase their former lives.

Here's where the Montsuki haori reference in Road to Hero Ova, that being a metaphor for his hero suit which he won't wear yet because he can't let go of his memories, a stain on his clothes which is a black mark on his heroism, comes into play. Genos is the one who wants to give him a new hero suit. It is used as an exchange of bethrothal gifts and fiancee is mentioned in the OVA on the movie, after which Saitama experiences a premonition, an ethereal apparition about a possible family member.

(Am I implying soulmate Saigenos? Yea :D)

Saitama was already so spiritually dead, so even Genos sensors got fooled, so he just blasted away without questioning much and only later realised that he essentially just blasted away a potential civie with full power. The same sensors which can track Saitama even when he's fighting inside nuclear clouds.

Genos in every sense of the word, became a guardian spirit for Saitama's spiritual well being. Against the stalker that wants revenge. The french fry thief, who stole part of Saitama's food, his happiness, comfort and heart. Coincidentally in a family restaurant too.

Because Saitama doesn't take kindly to those who steal his happiness, his heart.

"I don't care how many times you come back to challenge me. But let me just say this...Don't you ever go around stealing people's French fries again. If you're gonna come at me, come at me straight."

(That includes you too, Genos, you fry thief. In good or bad way, you stole his heart too)

The original meaning of the word 'nature' (luonto) is the protector of man. The word nature has the same meaning. According to Finnish mythology, human nature is a spirit being that follows man and influences his happiness, character and success. Only later has the word nature acquired its present meaning.

There is a spell to invoke the spirits of the nature.

If you have a weak nature, you can use spells to call upon nature or to strengthen your nature. Nature was also invoked against evil, enemies and diseases, and to give more physical, mental or supernatural abilities. In the spells, nature is called upon to rise from a notch and a deep place, apparently vainajala (underworld).

»Nouse luontoni lovesta, Syntyni syvästä maasta, Ha'on alta haltijani Vastuksia voittamah, Katehia kaatamah, Sotisia sortamahan...»

»Noin luonto lovesta nouskoon, Haon alta haltiani, Kuin nousee Jumalan ilma!»

»Nouse luontoni lovesta, kiven alta kiilusilmä, paaden alta paikka poski, hongan alta haltijani, pue päälle palava paita...»

Rough translation goes as follows: "Rise from the notch of my nature, From the deep earth of my birth, From beneath my Ha'on, my fairy (haltija, gnome, the guardian spirit) To overcome the odds, To overthrow Kateh, (kade, jealousy, the finnish folklore witch) To oppress the wicked..." "Thus shall nature rise from the notch, From under Ha'on, my fairy, (haon, tree branch on the ground) As the air of God rises!" (thunder) "Rise out of my nature's notch, From beneath the stone, the eye of the gleam, From under the rope a place of cheek, From under my honga, my fairy, put on a burning shirt..."

Kiilusilmä eyeshine (visual effect caused by tapetum lucidum) For example, Cat's eye

"Nouse Luontoni lovesta" is a wordplay again, about the nature of self rising from the love for it and from the notch. Justice enforcement. Genos eyes gleam like cat's eyes whenever he goes into battle mode, to enforce it.

"That is my fate. It can't be helped." With little help from a friendly mosquito, the divine intervention...

Then, she entreats a bee to ascend to the halls of the over-god Ukko and fetch from there a drop of honey as ointment that would bring Lemminkäinen back to life. Only with such a potent remedy is the hero finally restored.

Yes it can be Saitama. Yes it can. It is already being changed.

Loveen langennut, you falling in love and caring about someone has already changed your fate, giving you life.

Instead of meeting with a terrible fate, you got a fateful encounter instead.

The metaphor of your own humanity, the mosquito you could not manage to squish, leading you to your own guardian spirit.

(heck yeah Majora's mask Happy mask salesman reference, in one way Orochi reminds me of skull kid masked and unmasked)

(witches of lapland, the shamans, lose their teeth when they grow older and lose their powers)

(Saitama's belt may be a depiction of Voimavyö, a metal power belt, that is believed to give the wearer more spiritual powers)

#opm #one punch man #saitama #genos #saigenos #genosai #opm meta #finnish folklore #kotiteollisuus #shamanism #spiritualism #animism #paganism #loveen langennut #long #opm manga panels #opm anime screencaps #kalevala #tuonela #lemminkäinen