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#amelia ruth
grelleswife · 6 months
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“I possess no passions that deserve priority over admiring a beautiful flower that blooms before me.”
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yonae · 6 months
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AmeDomi crumbs 👀❤️
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koldusek · 2 months
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This sketch was inspired by this tag
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p.s. And you also inherit his name, his job, and maybe his coat...
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kirbro · 9 months
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wanted to do that color wheel challenge but with professor layton
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ayatateyama · 10 months
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VnC girls in Honeyworks style
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8trackaxolotl · 6 months
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Flormelia REAL
@katrilayton as Flora 🧡
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pandoraheartsposter · 11 days
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Dante all by himself
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asogikazumas · 6 months
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mémoire 60.5 - entracte: couche
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skyrr · 7 months
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I was bored
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laytontheories · 8 months
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This is one of my favourite images from the credits of Eternal Diva:
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When we first meet Amelia, she acts cold and distant. She isn't interested in helping others and even chastises Luke on the boat. Some might assume she's rude or stuck up.
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But when she is kidnapped by Descole, we see her cold facade crack. Her grandfather is dying and she wants to give the Eternal Life to him. Amelia literally entered a game where she herself could die so she wouldn't lose her grandfather. In that moment we suddenly see who she really is: a scared child who would do anything for her loved ones.
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However, during the credits we see this image. It shows that Amelia's grandfather has indeed passed away. There is a chess piece next to his grave, suggesting that he was the one to teach her the game.
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But Amelia isn't sad. She's smiling, probably thinking of the good memories they had together. Maybe watching Janice say goodbye to Melina made her realise that she will never lose him, as long as she remembers him.
It's a bittersweet, blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, but it helps add closure to Amelia's character.
But the other reason why I love the image is Layton and Luke in the background.
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"Uhhhhhh. Why are we here Professor? We barely know this girl."
"Because Luke; a true gentleman must always attend to the needs of a lady. Even when he doesn't remember her name."
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noes-pillow · 3 months
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✨️Vanoé Angst Week: Day 7✨️ better late than never :)
A Memory is Not Enough: Chapter 1
| 2.2k | read on ao3 | more about this story... |
Prompt:
Blood | Major Character Death | “Please don’t leave”
Summary:
“‘You promised.’”
Little did he know it would end like this. Holding the body of his love close as the vampire drove a knife to the hilt into the corrupt human’s heart.
It took weeks for Noé to get the smell out of his clothes. The smell of Vanitas’ blood. The sweet addictive aroma of love.
And now that he was thinking about him more it seemed that smell was once again haunting him.
-or-
Noé is drowning in his grief after killing Vanitas when a package with a very familiar scent finds it way to his door.
...
“Knock Knock! Monsieur Noé?”
“Miss Amelia?” A barely audible voice from inside the hotel room responded to the knock at the door.
“Yes, Monsieur. You have another package. I’ll leave it outside your door. You may open up whenever you are ready.”
“Thank you.” The vampire responded to the maid softly.
“Will you be having dinner delivered to the room again tonight?”
“Yes, please.” Noé felt like a child having given this reply.
“It’ll be taken care of don’t you worry. I’ll have it up by six this evening,” Amelia replied with the usual warmth in her tone.
Noé heard the soft thud of the package hit the floor right before the click of Amelia’s heels receded for a few steps until she paused, walked back to the door and spoke again. Her words were a lot softer this time. There was a painfully obvious damper on her usually bright tone.
“We miss you in the dining room, Monsieur. Whenever you are ready, you are more than welcome to join us for your next meal.”
“Understood. Thank you again, Miss Amelia. I appreciate your hospitality,” Noé’s monotone voice responded.
Amelia’s heel clicks receded once again.
He knew Amelia could tell his voice lacked its usual contagious enthusiasm. He didn’t intend to make her worry, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave his room since…
        since…
Noé was trying to block his rampant thoughts from entering his mind once again.
        …since Vanitas died.
It wasn’t working.
        Noé you’re lying to yourself.
Since Noé killed him.
        Killed?
Since Noé murdered his… his…
        Say it!
Since Noé murdered his partner.
        Partner!?
Since Noé murdered his best friend.
        Say it, you bloody coward. You never told him, did you?
His closest confidant? Intimate partner? The one person who he would rather sell his true name to Naenia to protect?
Vanitas was the one thing Noé loved so much he agreed to do anything the astermite-eyed human asked of him.
        “‘You promised.’”
Little did he know it would end like this. Holding the body of his love close as the vampire drove a knife to the hilt into the corrupt human’s heart.
It took weeks for Noé to get the smell out of his clothes. The smell of Vanitas’ blood. The sweet addictive aroma of love.
And now that he was thinking about him more it seemed that smell was once again haunting him.
He hated that smell. It reminded him of that terrible day. A day he would rather forget.
But Noé was an Archiviste. And it’s an Archiviste’s duty to remember. To archive. To be the walking library for all of vampire and now humankind.
It was a burden Noé hated from the moment he discovered his ability. But his wishes didn’t matter. Only the duty of his bloodline did.
Noé’s head was killing him. A lingering headache had plagued him since he had started to keep himself locked up in his room.
        Your room?
The room he and Vanitas used to share.
The headache would always get worse when he caught Vanitas’ scent still clinging to the threads of his clothing. However, this headache seemed to grow stronger and more prominent as he laid in bed trying to ignore it.
Not surprising.
Noé was struggling to take care of himself. If it wasn’t for Miss Amelia’s care or Dominique’s less-than-subtle insistence that he needed to “clean his tray” if he didn’t join her for a meal, it was entirely possible that the vampire would forget to eat entirely.
But somehow, amidst the headache, Noé seemed to be developing what he assumed was an appetite.
Odd.
But he didn’t question it. It had been a while since he was able to finish a meal in its entirety. Most of the food ended up being flushed down the toilet.
If Domi found out he wasn’t eating, he’d have another thing coming for him.
Noé decided to peel himself out of bed. Just to the door, he thought. Then the bathroom. He thought he was getting a bit thirsty. He was probably very dehydrated. No surprise there.
He dragged himself across the room, raking a hand through his greasy and matted hair in an attempt to tame it, and opened the door.
Suddenly his headache felt like someone had driven an ice pick up from the inside of his nose and into his brain. He stumbled, holding the door frame to keep himself upright.
Dehydrated. Definitely.
He quickly grabbed the package, set it on his desk, and dragged himself to the bathroom while pinching the bridge of his nose.
He hunched over the sink for minutes drinking glass after glass of cold water. His thirst wasn’t going away.
Hungry then?
No, this wasn’t hunger. Noé looked at himself in the mirror. It was more like the feeling he got when he wanted to…
Noé gasped.
        Are my irises red?
Wait. No. Still purple. He must’ve imagined it.
Well that wasn’t it either.
Noé shook the impossibility from his mind.
He exited the room, stomach sloshing with water, and looked at the package he placed on his desk.
He wondered who it was from. It had been a while since he received a gift. At first, they came in one after another for weeks after Vanitas died. Once people realized how much the death was affecting Noé. But those weeks passed quickly. Soon there were no more gifts. People moved on with their lives while Noé was left …stuck and alone.
Both things of which he’d done to himself.
A month or more may have passed, but the state Noé continued to live in was no different. Except for the fact that people had seemed to forget about Noé. Maybe they trusted he was healing on his own. But more likely they didn’t know how to help. Or they really did just forget.
That was alright. People needed to live.
But not Noé. He needed to remember. That was all he was good for anyway. His ability. His bloodline. His duty.
Thinking about his responsibility made him feel even more sick.
Oh, what Noé wouldn’t give to smile again. Really, genuinely smile.
He remembered the package.
That would get his mind off things for awhile!
It was packed so nicely. A perfect box. The edges of brown paper wrapping folded perfectly and secured tightly with a ribbon of twine. The bow on top was tied with the utmost precision and care.
This person must’ve sent him a special gift.
But there was no return address. Maybe a note inside, then?
Noé couldn’t stop the tiniest bit of excitement creeping into his gut. He wished he wasn’t feeling so terrible, maybe he’d actually enjoy unwrapping it more without this bothersome headache.
He sat on his bed with the gift and untied the twine, tossing it aside. Then he unwrapped the outer layer of packing.
His headache was getting nearly unbearable, but he’d deal with it later. Gift first.
He set the unwrapped box in his lap. Still unmarked, and no note.
Noé resigned himself to the realization he would never know who sent it.
Once the de Sade family spread the word, every important family across the nation had sent him something, even if he only met them once as a child over a decade ago. Just pleasantries. He never really understood the empty acts of the rich.
He opened the lid of the box.
        A jar?
Odd.
Noé removed the jar from the box and observed its contents through the glass. The lid was sealed tight and bound with another ribbon of twine around the neck of the jar.
Did someone send him strawberry preserves? Or possibly jelly? There didn’t appear to be any seeds. Maybe it was cherry instead. That would make sense if there weren’t seeds.
Either way it was expensive fruit this time of year, no doubt.
But the consistency was off. It wasn’t gelatinous. It was more like a thick syrup. Ah, that’s what it must’ve been. Some expensive fruit syrup from overseas. Possibly with medicinal properties? Unlikely. The color was off. It wasn’t quite purple enough to be elderberries. Noé would know.
This was more likely to be some immune system garbage that tasted worse than it smelled.
And what was that smell?
The jar maybe? Whatever was inside of it could’ve been the cause of Noé’s headache.
So he untied the twine, gripped the lid, and twisted…
Pop!
The air seal broke.
An aroma exploded from the seam of the jar lid making Noé fumble with the glass and nearly drop its entire contents.
He felt like the wind had just been knocked out of him.
That smell. It was so powerful. His head felt like it was about to burst. But why couldn’t he place the scent? It was so familiar. It made Noé want to…
Want to…
        want…
Impossible.
No.
Noé ran to the bathroom once again, careful not to spill the contents of the jar as he removed the lid entirely.
He looked in the mirror. This time his eyes did indeed show a bright red. Two vibrant rubies stared back at him.
Noé stared back down at the jar. There was no way. How? He had to be mistaken. Hallucinating or something? Was there a airborne psychedelic laced in the contents of the jar making him hallucinate?
He put the jar in the bathroom, closed its lid, then the door, and buried himself in his bed under sheets.
There was no mistaking it.
The jar.
Its scent.
It smelled exactly like Vanitas.
Or rather, it smelled like the sweet aroma of Vanitas’s blood.
Noé tossed around in bed, twisting and tangling himself hopelessly in unwashed sheets and trying to convince himself his nose was wrong.
But he had never been wrong about this before.
Vanitas’ blood was the one scent he could never mistake. He could easily pick out the aroma from a crowd. He had attuned himself to the smell so he could determine when the human was injured.
Or at least that’s what he told himself.
It was definitely not because the human’s blood was the sweetest thing he had ever smelled in his life.
Even more so than tarte tatin.
Just the aroma would make Noé sick with bloodlust, though he eventually learned to control the urge, as he always did as an Archiviste.
An idea popped into Noé’s head. There was only one way to know for sure.
He dragged himself back to the bathroom and slowly opened the door, peeking his eyes around the doorframe to hide as if the jar of mystery liquid could become sentient and attack him at any moment.
Noé dipped his little finger into the jar, before lifting his hand to his face, eyes nearly rolling back into his head from the punishingly sharp scent.
A scent now so very close to his lips.
He stared at the liquid on his finger as it began to drip.
        Only one way to know for sure.
Noé brought his finger to his mouth and licked it. The taste was pure bliss. As if someone had made pure extract from the feeling of euphoria.
Eagerly, Noé splashed into a memory…
***
The blue moon shone brightly through the windows in a room of stained glass.
A white-haired figure stood a fair distance away.
Noé paused.
And contemplated.
He had seen this memory before. Just not through these eyes.
Before he could look for any other details, Noé felt the body that housed his own consciousness speak.
“I am called Vanitas. The Vampire of the Blue Moon passed on to me his name and his book. Yet I am but a human.”
Impossible, Noé thought.
“Lend me your strength, Noé. With your great fighting ability and sturdy body, I’ve no doubt you’d make a fine shield.”
Noé then heard his own voice.
“That’s a hard pass.”
Noé saw himself through another’s eyes. Through Vanitas’ eyes. In the cathedral where the two of them fell from the airship that long time ago.
He saw the look of bewilderment on his past face. The expression greatly reflected what he was feeling now presently.
***
Noé forced himself to resurface back in reality. He was still standing in the bathroom with a finger in his mouth.
        Oh no.
        Oh no… no no no.
He looked at the jar.
This blood. This was indeed Vanitas’ blood. There was no denying it now.
A swarm of questions flooded his mind. None of them fully thought out, but the shapes of the questions were there. He couldn’t seem to focus long enough on one worrisome concept before the next idea shoved its way to the forefront of his thoughts.
This was bad. And for so many reasons he couldn’t pinpoint each in particular.
Noé panicked.
The jar seemed to stare at him with an alluring aura.
He had promised Vanitas that he would never look into his memories.
He never had.
He swore not to.
At least when he was alive.
But the scent of his blood was so…
Addictive.
Noé bargained.
A sip.
Just a sip.
He went to reach for the glass jar.
But his hesitant motion was interrupted by a sudden loud rapping on the front door.
“Noé! I’ve brought your dinner. Open up!”
| NEXT CHAPTER | -> coming soon
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grelleswife · 10 months
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Why the dour expression, Vani? 👀 Could you, perhaps, be jealous that your boyfriend is hugging someone other than you?
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nya-namins · 2 years
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♡ VnC women ♡
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koldusek · 7 months
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Today I remembered that at the first reading I thought that Amelia is Vanitas
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kirbro · 4 months
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amelia! i think she's so cute @layton-npc-appreciation-week
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katrilayton · 8 months
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Professor Layton impromptu meet up at Matsuricon was a success!! @axolotlcosplay
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