#( opp. matthias. )

[skyguywrites]

colin nash x matthias castillo jiminez.

[evcrlasting]

Feeling loved at her lowest was life's blessing today. If it came to it, Flo knew how to cope. It wasn't like life hadn't had it's rough times when the were apart but she had never lost someone before and having someone else to lean on was nice. She didn't want to unload on him, which was why she had fought the tears in the first place. Matthias made it so easy to feel comfort in his presence. His declaration had only made today better. It had pushed her over the edge actually. She had always known he still loved her. Flo liked to think she had enough self-confidence to not still be around him if she didn't feel it. Truth was he could have never told her such and she would still follow him around like a puppy. Not something she had to worry about any longer. "Matt, I don't want to ruin your shirts." She mumbled, her arms wrapping around his neck. "Thank you for being here for me. There is no one else I'd want here right now." Florencia sniffed again, burying her face back into his shirt.

@evcrlasting continuing from here

The best things in life started when not planned, and the moment he'd whispered that he loved her was the perfect example. No matter if a twisted part of him still thought it to be wrong, Matthias no more wanted to battle with himself. There was no reason to hide his true feelings, no reason to pretend that he'd ever stopped loving her, when it was clear that she had been the one for him since the moment they met. So, naturally, seeing her so distraught brought out the protector in him. Whatever Flo needed, he was ready to give to her. Anything, really. "Don't worry about my shirt. Ruin as many as you want." His lips whispered it all pressed to her hair as his arms wrapped tightly around her trembling body. Hearing that she loved him too was the highlight of his week, month, even year. After everything he'd put her through, Matt hadn't expected that she would still love him back. Because one thing was certain, he didn't deserve it.

[bluespring864]

Well, this Euros really was all about the bronze medallists, wasn't it? Juulia/Matthias, two of my favourites anyway, I'm still in disbelief, that was incredible. Think I held my breath for over four minutes there and breathed out during that last picture of a lift. So beautiful. And then the Italians, whom I have so much love and admiration for and they finally made it to their rightful gold medal! Sorry Lilah/Lewis, I barely saw you there in the middle today, too emotionally hungover from what came before and too nervous for what was to come I guess. I'll have to rewatch.

Icing on the cake: Charlene being too emotional to even speak, singing her heart out during the anthem and then her and Marco trying to make their lack of height difference work on that last photo opp. Someone gif me this please <3

[childoo4ever]

Kaz and all of the Crows: No Mourners No Funerals

Matthias:

[regicidios-blog1]

Begonia

begonia - deformed.

The lunch they agreed to becomes twice as unbearable as he predicted, Matthias’ impossible narrow-mindedness inducing a wave of self-loathing that makes Mikael question why he ever thought it was possible to reason with a madman in the first place. They can’t technically kill each other here, but that doesn’t stop Matthias from making a show out of playing with steak knives while shooting down every argument for Mikael’s innocence with some retorts about an eight-year search for evidence and a line about demons getting what they deserved. Mikael’s annoyance builds with every second they spend together, but before he can rise from his seat to bill out and leave as he has been long tempted to do, a quiet thought slips in without preamble, one that makes every unvoiced scream of frustration fall silent.

He must have really loved you. 

Mikael blinks. His mouth opens slightly to form a protest he’s not sure where to direct, then closes. A frown forms, because self-pity’s never gotten him anywhere and he sure as shit doesn’t need anybody else’s, but not an ounce of self-hatred can stop his face from falling into something softer as his gut twists with the urge shift the subject into something far more puerile.

Almost childishly, he blurts, “What was he like?”

Matthias’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

“Your father,” Mikael says, words drawn out more hesitantly as he realizes how ridiculous they sound out of his mouth. He pauses, biting his lip, gaze shifting to the floor for a fleeting second before he lifts his head up and lets his eyes linger on Matthias. “What was he like?”

“What kind of fucking question is that?”

Truthfully, Mikael’s not so sure why he asked. There’s little to gain from learning of a dead man’s possible humanity. He wants to say he doesn’t know where he’s going with this, but the vexing truth is that he does, his mind barely able to ignore the intruding flurry of questions that might drag his train of thought into unwanted territory: Was he kind? What did he teach you? How much of you is him? Did you make him proud? Did he make you happy? Were you enough for him? Were you enough?

His eyebrows furrow. “I don’t — I don’t know. I just — I hate —” Words feel useless. Each one is a strain on his throat. “I hate myself.”

“And what am I supposed to do with that?” Matthias snaps. 

Every nerve in Mikael’s body burns with self-directed anger. “I don’t know.”

“What? Did you think that just because you feel sorry for yourself, I’m supposed to feel the same?” Matthias’s voice drips with a venomous disdain that Mikael feels he deserves. “You disgust me.”

He thinks of Odessa. Of Lucrezia. Of how he doesn’t seem to know how to take steps toward his own happiness without hurting somebody else. Of the house where he grew up and how it still seems to live in him, and how it’s made it impossible for him to take space without feeling selfish. Mikael laughs. “Sounds like we have that in common.”

The chair slides back as Mikael rises from his seat to make his way to Matthias’s side. He takes a few bills from his wallet and slips them by Matthias’ plate, silently hoping that his shame-induced anger would simmer down when he meets the other man’s gaze. 

“This is enough to cover your meal,” Mikael says. “Thank you for the lunch. But I’m leaving.”

“You know you can’t just buy your way ou—“

A fist slams into Matthias’s face.

Mikael isn’t so sure if any thought came with the decision. Heads turn; waiters freeze on their spots. A few bystanders step forward in some attempt to intervene, but Mikael dismisses them with a wave of his free hand. He and Matthias both are lucky Mikael had only put a fraction of his strength into the punch – the singular flash of anger far too fleeting to allow any real damage – but still, a hit’s a hit, and the aftermath leaves Mikael staring into a pair of hateful eyes as his throat chokes on an apology he knows neither of them want to hear.Matthias grabs Mikael by the wrist and yanks him down to his height. “If you were here to prove your innocence, then you’ve just made it worse for yourself.” His voice is low, simmering with quiet fury. “When I get the chance, I’m not just going to kill you. I’m going to make it hurt so bad you’ll regret ever being born.”

Mikael pulls his wrist away, fingers curled still. There’s a hollowness in his chest where fear should be. It feels a lot like grief. 

He feels the restaurant patrons’ eyes follow him as he makes his way to the door, leaving Matthias without so much as a retort or a goodbye. It’s not like him to leave without getting the last word in, but he doesn’t feel like himself. Or, perhaps, he feels too much like himself. Charged with anger, he slides into the driver’s seat of a beat up Bentley, slamming the car door before draping himself over the steering wheel, hands resting atop the black dashboard surface. As he runs a thumb over the grooves of his knuckles, he furrows his eyebrows, flinches, face contorting in shame as he thinks about the question he offered and how it’s not one he would ever want to be asked, either. 

What was he like, your father?

Mikael stares at his closed fist. Mine was like that. 

[thesecularsaint-blog]

DON’T LET THIS BE THE END OF YOU

when? | october 31, 14:05  where? | streets of verona, capulet territory who? | the TRUSTED ( @matthiaswarren )

This was nothing short of chaos. He’d written of Verona afire, flooding with blood, bursting with screams of its inhabitants, but he never expected to see the vilification spring to life before his very eyes. This was the stuff of nightmares, and he was running ragged after spending the entire night and resulting morning on the streets, trying to save those he could and stop others from making mistakes that may not have consequences tonight but would bring hell in the upcoming months. He wanted to go home, shut out the world, pretend that this wasn’t happening -- but he was through with running. He owed it to everyone to press on. 

So he did. One step at a time, he carried himself into Capulet territory, seeking out those of his companions stubborn enough to believe that legal immunity translated to eternal freedom. He expected to see Marcelo, maybe Val, maybe Alexander. He didn’t expect to see Matthias, and so Bellamy froze in the street. Was this another hallucination? Was the lack of sleep finally getting to him? 

He shook his head, jogged to catch up with Matthias, called out his name. He fell into stride beside him, careful to drink in the emotions rolling off the man’s shoulders. Something was amiss, and without conjecture, Bellamy’s heart began to sink into his chest. Either something had already happened, or something would be happening. 

“Tell me you aren’t partaking in this madness.” Bellamy’s tone was firm, if not teetering dangerously towards a plea.

[advcnturously]

@livebcldly

The village of Bayeux was one of the most peaceful places Matthias had ever visited, and considering his long list of roads and cities traveled, that was an impressive compliment. Matthias was positive it had something to do with the fact that the crown wasn’t looming over his head and the fact that Ella was currently standing beside him with his arm wrapped around his waist — Matthias had always been a closeted romantic. Unfortunately, with a search party officially sent out after the King of Trier, Matthias highly doubted that the peace would last long.

Gently, Matthias pressed a kiss to Ella’s forehead. “Do you think we should return to Trier or keep traveling the road?” He asked curiously, knowing that the Etretat highway was nearly endless. He had journeyed on it for weeks without seeing the end. Granted, he had been rather drunk at the time and his imagination had always been active. Perhaps they had turned off and Matthias had been unaware. “Mom won’t give up until she finds me and forces the crown on my head,” he continued. Of course, Matthias was already the King, but he liked to pretend otherwise.

[3ofcrows]

[adsperitas]

things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

Matthias was on the phone with his mother. He thought that Aurelia had fallen asleep hours ago; he thought that it was the best time to quietly talk to his mother about what he’d been doing, what they’d been doing.

“No, Mom, I— no, I do think I’m doing the right thing,” he paused, his mouth screwing up a little, “No. Mom, no, listen to me, please, just listen to me.” Anyone that knew him would know that he was starting to get frustrated; that not being listened to was one surefire way to get him agitated. His voice was getting a little bit louder, a fraction more forceful, though still stayed in the range of ‘quiet’. “I know it’s not what you want for me, but this is what I want for myself.” He clenched his jaw as his mother started talking again, loud enough it could be heard from the receiver into the empty room. “No. I love them both. You’re not changing my mind.” Matthias closed his eyes as his mother started to talk more forcefully. “No, Mom, no I— no, listen to me. Listen to me. I’m— if you’re not going to listen I’m going to hang up.”

More rapid talking from the receiver.

“I’m hanging up now,” he said, “No, I told you I would. I’m hanging up. Bye, Mom.”

He let out a measured breath, rolled his shoulders — trying to release some of the tension built up in them in a benign manner — and looked to the doorway feeling that there was someone there before he saw them. “Oh, I…,” his words petered out, “How long have you been standing there, Aurelia?”

[elliesmuses]

“do me a favour, kiss my ass.”

Her smile is unrestrained and positively gleeful, even as she touches her tongue to the roof of her mouth in a light tutting sound. “Language, Matty, can’t Jesus hear you fuckin’ everywhere?” 

She’s pushing his buttons on purpose, delighting in the rise she’s already gotten from him. This is the Mattias she so yearns to see: unrestrained and raw, even if it’s in anger directed at her. 

Anger doesn’t bother Gale, especially not his. His anger is electric. It makes her feel present, vividly alive in her own skin. It makes her feel seen, for how many others can boast that they’ve gotten to him so thoroughly? 

Amusement dances in her eyes. She’s toeing the line here, and she knows it. “Throw in a please and maybe I will.” 

[katcadecascade]

Pressed thin like your favorite page (Silco X Reader) Chapter 9

Ao3

Tumblr Chapter Index

Chapter Nine: A Name is a Blueprint

Additional Notes: sorry for the wait; it be like that majority of the time; anyway; bit of a miscommunication shenanigans for Reader here; some ragrets from drunken exploits; more backstory on Reader; I had fun writing Silco’s dialogue; there will also be a long wait for the next chapter; opps but yeah 

Word Count: 3949

Maybe returning to The Last Drop is a horrible idea and you should never show your face again. But you still have an obligation to teach Jinx. You would bear through your embarrassment of your drunken exploits for the sake of a student. That and there is something important you need to explain to Jinx and Silco.

Once you finish teaching Jinx with the engineering book, you have officially run out of things to teach her. 

You rather make a plan about this now than later, that way you don’t end up tumbling into any sort of bad decision in poor timing.

Like two nights ago where you drunkenly recited poetry to Silco and he walked you out the door.

Gods above and below, that will endlessly haunt you won’t it?

Anyway you clean yourself up the best you could in only a manner done by the people in the Lanes. Lack of clean water aside, your worn down clothes are passable for the most part and whatnot. 

The Last Drop is always a familiar sight to you and yet you have to admit, it’s been a while since passed out drunks got kicked out in the morning. Silco’s two front men are hauling out the last remaining drunkards. Some are unmoving, slumped against the building. You intentionally choose to avoid your gaze. Yet one of the people actually walking, sloppily you add, nearly stumbles into you.

“Hi Matthias?” You greet with an awkward wave. 

A slow blink later, he digs a hand into his pocket for a lighter and cig. “Hey.”

As he walks away, the cigarette gets lit, filling the already stale air with the sharp taste of ash. Normally smoking doesn’t bother you but you can’t help but frown. 

“Say hi to Franny for me.”

Your neighbor makes an inaudible noise, the best acknowledgement you can get. From what you’ve seen and Franny’s complaints, her older brother is harmless for the most part. You make a mental note to check up on Franny after this though, just in case the kid gets lonely again. 

The front men easily let you through the door, grunting their own greetings that you return. 

“Invite Sevika’s girls back here, Reader,” one teases with a laugh.

“Damn Elijah, you’re already a simp?” You fire back, mildly amused. 

He grinned and excitedly patted the cold metal of the door, as if it’s a well tended motor. “This place finally got fun again.”

“Ah right,” You regretfully recall the fun that Adora caused. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind it again.”

“It’s all for good business,” Davis, the other guardsman, said. “A club is a better selling ground than the streets.”

That freezes you midstep through the main lounge. Right now it’s only the usual morning crew in the bar, the two at the door, Therium cleaning the bartop, and you hear some others walking between the storage and the back entrance. 

Davis is watching you still, arms crossed but his lax demeanor is non threatening. The guy does raise an eyebrow at your tensed expression. 

“Huh, didn’t think of that,” You managed to force out, albeit you had an awkward croak in your voice. To continue with that tone, you give Davis a lopsided smile and pointed a thumb at the bar, “Drinking’s more my thing, ha!”

You relax when Davis chuckled, likely misreading your strange tension as post-inebriated regret. 

“Luckily you weren’t the only drunk mess we’ve been getting lately,” Davis assured, somehow making an insult feel comforting. 

“Glad to hear that,” You nod before finally parting away, once more with rushing thoughts. 

It’s stupid of you to forget the existence of Shimmer. You’re already lost in your own reliance on drinking. You like to believe it’s at a stable and reasonable level but that’s all graphed at normality of the Lanes. Nearly everyone here is an alcoholic or a druggie or both. Personally you’ll stick with drinking and hold a bit of abhor for drug use. It sounds either hypocritical or logical, choosing one addiction and drawing the line for another. Yet you have an increasing discomfort regarding Silco’s drug. You can’t decide if it’s because of its extremities, the deformation, or it’s the kingpin’s main source of money. 

But what’s to say that Shimmer isn’t the worst drug ever created? 

After all, Silco taught you that it could also be a medicine.

This could be an honest debate or all excuses to normalize the drug use in your city. Or more tragic, it’s another tally in the long list of dangers under Silco’s sphere of influence.

Maybe it’s a good thing to talk about a future resignation. 

You make your way up the stairs. An awful cringe in your memory pulls up how you drunkenly labored yourself on this same path merely days ago. It’s strangely masochistic how you’re willing to do this to yourself, just unloading shame and embarrassment into each step.

Worst of all, you hesitate at knocking on Silco’s door. You take a deep breath and just go for it. Rapping your knuckles against the wooden grain mimics the thumping of your heartbeat. 

Silco’s “Enter” is muffled but it sends a spike of fire down your spine. You let yourself in. 

“Silco,” There’s a hollowness in your voice, “hi.”

The man is at his desk, writing over some papers and such. It’s not out of the ordinary, neither is how organized everything else in the office is. You note the neat stack of files on the desk corner, a reading lamp placed on the edge, there’s even a small box to hold all his pens and a secondary set for ink quills. 

It’s all picturesque and orderly, your eyes wandering everything before the man you sullen yourself. You bypass the dreaded couch you imagined debauchery on, hating how the pillows are pampered, like nothing intimate ever happened there.

Finally standing in front of the desk, your eyes reach Silco’s. 

The quiet atmosphere is pierced by his unflinching gaze. 

“Hello Reader.” He takes his time drawing his platitudes. “It’s good to see you’re better.”

You wince. He’s saving face for the both of you. The least you can do is apologize.

“Yeah, I believe I got carried away the other night. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Reader,” Silco laces his fingers together, letting his elbows rest on the tabletop. “I run a bar. Inhibitions are rarely at the bottom of the bottle. Also I nor the rest of the world would ever condemn you for getting wasted.”

A huge, awkward weight has been relieved from your consciousness but at the same time you deflected all of those emotions in favor of humor. 

��...Does that mean you’ve gotten shitfaced too?” You smile crookedly. 

“Absolutely,” Silco nodded, esteemed with a lot of smugness. “Vander and I were truly a menace in our youth.”

You laugh at that, imagining them as such. Sometimes it feels like the Lanes are a timeless place, always with the gritty and the chaos with someone believing they are at their peak. You had your own moments in the thrill but nothing extravagant to become one of the many mercenaries or fighters in the present day. 

“Well, if anything this won’t be the last time I’ll get drunk.” Your lips dips down into a frown, “But I’ll try to be less… like that.”

After a beat of silence, with Silco merely scanning you, he said, “...If that’s what you decided, I won’t make any judgment.”

“Thank you, I rather like my position here and I hate to ruin it like that.”

“You didn’t,” Silco lowered his hands on the table, one balled up and the other slid out in your direction before retreating back. “I would never assume the worst of you, Reader. I too enjoy your time here with us.”

There is a serenity in his eyes. Usually any kind of tenderness warms you up but instead there is a cold pressure in your throat. 

He pushed you away on that night. It should be proper to give him and yourself a real exit out of your feelings. 

“Silco, there’s something I need to tell you,” You said, each word dragged out of your mouth. 

“What is it?”

“I just need to be honest about this because I care so much about everything here, between us and most importantly Jinx.” You drag a hand through your hair, stressed and nervous. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

You ask that out of pure rambling, not really expecting a response. Yet Silco stands up, walking to your side with this softness you cannot comprehend.

“I believe I do. Reader, not to sound like a weak man but I’ve been anticipating this for quite a long time now.”

“Really, you did?” A bitter sadness runs along your voice, “I guess that makes sense, you were upset at me from the start.”

Silco places a hand on your shoulder. The light touch matches the gentleness in his cadence, “Never, it was simply a wary behavior to see you. In our time apart, I reflected on what was said and done and I’ve come to realize how volatile we may become. You don’t need to worry about a thing. I promise.”

Hearing that is more than a relief, calming your anxiety before it could become a mess. 

“Oh good but I’ll still worry. I mean, this is Jinx’s education after all.”

A wide eyed expression takes up Silco’s face. “...I beg your pardon?”

You tilt your head slightly, worried that you didn’t make yourself clear so you reiterate what’s been in your head for the last few weeks. 

“Silco, I love teaching Jinx. She is phenomenal at analyzing and engineering. Jinx is a prodigy at mechanics and sharpshooting but that is out of my wheelhouse. Soon enough, I’ll have taught everything I could to her but there is still much more potential in her.” You shrug helplessly, “It just can’t be me teaching her anymore.” 

“What? No, no, you’ve done an amazing job with her.” His hand is still on your shoulder, you feel it curl in. Rather than pulling you closer, Silco takes one step closer to you. “I’m indebted to everything you taught.”

“Hey, didn’t you just say you were anticipating this? Me leaving?”

“No, never that.”

“Then what did you think I was talking about?” You ask, very much off balanced by all of this. 

Silco stares at you, an odd blankness in his good eye. 

“...Jinx of course, giving her a personal laboratory.”

“Oh. That's a great idea.”

“Yes, yes, but this ordeal about you being unable to teach Jinx anything more.” He shakes his head. “It’s absurd, Reader.”

“Yet it is the truth, Silco,” You insist. “The time is near for Jinx to graduate.”

He frowns, more than ready to continue this debate that you are actually confident to argue against. 

THUNK

That is until the subject of your conversation jumps down from the ceiling rafters. Scuffed up shoes land on top of documents, pens roll off, the quill ink set topples over, spilling blackness across the oak. Jinx cares nothing about the impact she caused to her father’s desk, stuck in a low crouch with both hands on the table surface to ease her landing. 

All her attention is trained on you, a fierce snarl pins you in your place. 

“Jinx,” Silco stresses the same time you ask, “Whoa, Jinx?”

Before you or Silco could get another word in, Jinx is spiraling. 

“Graduate? No, that's bullshit!” Jinx shifts her stand into an awkward squat, freeing her hands to wave about in pure mania. “I can't graduate. That’s not even a real thing around here! It’s just what everyone says when they don’t want to go to your classes. Now? It’s you who wants me to leave?” 

She points both index fingers at you. Double the accusation and double the pain. 

“Jinx,” You begin with a steady voice, needed to deescalate the situation, “that isn’t what I intended.”

“You promised you wouldn’t leave me!” Jinx stands to her full height, impressively over Silco’s head thanks to the table. Her head blocks the window light from casting onto you. “You pinky fucking promised me!”

To rub salt further into the wound, Silco says in a pointed tone, “You did pinky promise her.”

Your heart is jabbed at multiple angles. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Frowning, you look up to the little girl you hurt. 

“Silco, could we have the office for a moment? Please?”

Jinx is too angry to care if Silco is on her side or not.  If anything, this would be more fair, simple one on one. You want to talk her down on your own, to remedy her anger. 

“...I thought I told you this was my office.” Silco mused quietly, looking between you and his daughter. 

“You did.”

Silco huffs but compiles, “Shall I wait outside?”

You give him a reassuring glance, “We might take a while.”

He studies your face before nodding and gives Jinx a concerned look but she never breaks eye contact with you. 

“Scream if you need me,” is Silco’s goodbye before he closes the door. 

It’s just you and Jinx in the office, just like the very first day you learned her new name. 

“I’m not leaving you Jinx,” You tell her, approaching the table slowly. “You’ve been listening the whole time, I didn’t say I was leaving.”

“You said you’re gonna stop teaching me.” There’s a roughness to her voice, a croak in her anger. “You’re gonna stop coming here. You’re not gonna read books to me or make sandwiches again or ask about my inventions.”

Jinx is trying so hard not to cry, to maintain her anger because that is more preferred than utter sadness. 

“You said you never broke promises!”

You have made many promises in your life. To your friends, to your students, but rarely to yourself. 

“Jinx, leaving you is the last thing I want. I’m not going to abandon you. I want to see you grow up and make new inventions,” the softness in your being begins to ease the girl’s stiffness, especially when you add, “I trust you Jinx. With your own education, future goals, and my real name.”

This throws her off guard. Her eyebrows furrow. “I don’t get it. I know your name because… because my parents knew you.”

“Yeah, yeah, they did.” The two of you share this quiet sadness for her parents. It’s not your intention to evade her anger and make her sad. No, you continue on with your point. “I didn’t always go by Reader and even then I had a bunch of other names too.”

“Mom once called you Y N.”

The nostalgia haunts you. “...Ah yes. That name… Anyway, Jinx, you know my name. That makes me feel safe.”

She tilts her head, “I don’t get it.” 

You take a seat on the desk, giving her some space. Cautiously, Jinx eases herself down. Her knees poke against your thigh and you’re relieved that she’s comfortable to be near you. 

“Do you remember the story about Rumpelstiltskin? If you know a person’s real name, that means you have a lot of power over them.” A troubled look enters Jinx’s eyes and you read it easily. “No matter how many names you have, each one represents a moment in your life.”

Jinx mumbles, more to herself, “I don’t want people to have power over me.”

“And that’s why you give your name to those you trust. You have my name, that’s something I wouldn’t leave.” 

“...But what if it’s with someone you don’t trust?” Jinx pulls her knees up, hugging them. “When I was out exploring the Lanes again, some people saw me. They called out for Powder and I…”

Jinx hides her face in her arms. There’s no shudder of a constrained sob or anything, just a defeated laze. 

Did she run into Ekko?

You haven’t been able to find him at all, looking through the crowds for a small boy with white curly hair. You asked some former students if he’s been hanging out with them.

Ekko is always somewhere else, is the answer you get from them.

His parents say that he’s been busy. Then again, they are too what with their job in the factories. They’re just happy that Ekko has been productive. 

You have no idea what that could possibly mean. You can only conclude that Ekko has his own story and it does not involve you. 

Yet you have an inkling that Jinx will be a part of Ekko’s journey. 

“Then you’ll have to reintroduce yourself. Tell the whole world who Jinx is.” 

You take a chance and brush some loose hair behind Jinx’s ear. She immediately eases into your side, warming your heart. 

“Why are you Reader now? Are you different too?” Jinx asks, inquizical as ever. “Why care about old names?”

A grin easily forms, adoring her curiosity. She is asking some rather insightful questions and you can’t help but be proud of her. 

“Like I said, names have power. I understand that you no longer will be Powder. But for me, well…”

You missed being called by your real name by someone who would never hurt you.

“...I am different than I was back then. Especially when I had Kore and we were taking care of her son.” An ache swells up your entire being. “He was so close to saying my name.”

Jinx turns her head to you, biting on her lip, “You lost your baby?”

It’s an absolute struggle to respond, a pained croak in your throat. Zag was Kore’s son, not yours, and yet you cannot deny it. After all, Kore and you promised to raise him. 

You manage to shake your head, “His father took him overseas.” 

You omit the painful details, something a child shouldn’t be burdened with. She doesn’t need to know that the day she lost her parents is the same day you lost Kore.

Somehow Kore’s boyfriend learned it before you, likely because you were busy with the newly orphaned children crying in your arms. By the time you reached Kore’s place, all the candle wicks were smoked, the crib was empty, and there was a farewell note addressed to you.

He knew there was not gonna be a funeral for Kore and the many others. The bridges belonged to Piltover, Enforcers tossed the corpses into the waters. 

“I miss him,” You tell Jinx, “I am missing so much of his life right now. So I promise you Jinx,” your arms wrap around the girl, “Leaving you is the last thing I want.”

You remember how Franny accused you and Jinx hates being alone. They are so right.

“Besides,” You try to lighten the mood, “do you really want to learn more about poetry and its flowery language?”

“No, not really.” Jinx lets her legs dangle back down, tapping her toes together. “I don’t get them but I like it when you say them.”

“Yeah,” You admit, bumping your shoes with hers, “I barely understand them myself but I still enjoy them. Like, I think we’d have an easier time if you taught me about mechanics. You probably have a new gadget by now, right?”

“Oh oh, yes!” She nodded rapidly, “From the book, it had something about a twin engine and if I could make a smaller version of it use it on my toy train. I could launch a bunch of paint explosives all at once!”

You let her talk more about her inventions, each one increasing more bombastic than the last. It kind of scares you. These kids are a new breed of violence, honestly. Well, it wouldn’t be Zaun if it didn’t have this type of arcane. 

It thrills you that you’ll one day see her grown up. 

Things end rather nicely here, Jinx soothed back to her usual self and you… Well the heartache has yet to untangle. Losing Kore, Jinx and Vi’s parents, and many more, it hurts to remember them. They did what they could for the Lanes and died for it. 

You are doing what you can for Zaun. It’s a different battle, a different cliff to climb with its own dangers. You would take those risks for the same goals as Kore’s. 

Even though it all started with wanting the best for Zag. He’s out of the cities, gone with the wind as far as you know. There’s still other students that remain here. Some stick around like Franny and Jinx. Others don’t, Ekko and the other graduates persevere in their own lives. 

They are doing so much more than you could ever teach them. It feels almost limiting that all you can provide to the children are lessons of script.

Eventually, you two exit the office and see Silco down at the bar with Sevika. Jinx lets go of your hand in favor of sliding down the stair railing. You’re half pace behind her when meeting back with Silco.

“Sorry if we took too long,” You said and you’re about to say more apologies but you’re distracted when Jinx retakes your hand. 

She laces your fingers together and swings your held hands back and forth. You can’t help but smile at her. 

“Is my office mine once more?” Silco checks. It’s his own way of asking if everything is alright between the two of you.

“Maybe,” You smirk, bumping your hip with Jinx’s shoulder, “I’ll let Jinx decide that.”

She nods her head twice, “Yep, it’s yours. Also, can we eat something?” Jinx begs, “Can Calcifer make spaghetti?”

“Sounds delicious, go tell him,” Silco tells her.

Jinx grins at you, her feet bouncing before she runs off to the kitchen. Your hand is outstretched from her departure, slowly you put it down. 

Silco gains your attention, a constant variable in your book, with a wave towards the chair beside him. “Reader, I’d like to offer something.”

“Um,” You begin unsurely, but you take your seat, “what is it?”

He takes his time, one hand relaxed on the bartop while the other thumbs his lighter.  You note the ashtray by his water glass. The little plate is decorated in blue and pink paint, freshly holding a smoking cigar. 

When Silco still hasn’t spoken up, your eyes track back to him. He’s wordlessly arguing with Sevika. It’s all facial expressions. She’s annoyed, one corner of her lips dragged lower and eyebrows sinking down. Silco has a tiny shake in his head, disagreeing with this internal debate or something. 

You don’t understand so you ask again, “Silco, are you offering a… a job?”

Your mind is once again sent back to the first day you got reintroduced to Jinx. Sevika had to collect you from your alleyway, she treated you like a chore but nonetheless it was a direct task. 

Only important people got tracked down and brought to imposing figureheads. 

Somehow that applied to you because you mean a lot to Jinx. 

Right now you have a weird intuition, something born from your writings. 

Silco confirms with a nod, “I’m planning a job in Piltover and ideally, you’d be our leading asset.”

You blink and blink again. 

“Huh.”

Well moments ago, you did believe you were bound to only teaching. It’s been your skills and expertise for years, changing that up for something new could botch up whatever Silco has planned. 

Yet he asked you, idealized you doing this job. 

You’ll have to ask for details of the plan, ask if it really needs to be you but in your heart the answer has already been decided.

-

Taglist(thanks for reading!):  @sana-within-you @masteracewindu @shameshomalo @dovahdokren @ancientbeing10 @totallylostinfeelings @cyborgjules @shadow-pancake9 @potato-dragons @subbing-for-clones @faraige @testsubject24601 @accordionplayingrat @idiotic-canadian @accordionplayingrat

[skyguywrites]

❗️= old or important threads/threads to prioritise. bold = ship thread. italics = important/defining plot.

dan owes.

❗️henry/diego3 - 27 june // 9 notes // opp: michaela

❗️eli/annie2 - 8 july // 4 notes // opp: michaela

wardo/flynn1 - 10 july // 3 notes // opp: michaela

marley/poppy1 - 29 july // 2 notes // opp: michaela

henry/diego4 - 6 aug // 2 notes // opp: michaela

ezra/kian1 - 8 aug // 4 notes // opp: michaela

teddy/amelia1 - 11 aug // 0 notes // opp: michaela

marley/jessie2 - 14 sept // 1 note // opp: michaela

teddy/olly1 - 23 sept // 0 notes // opp: michaela

keeley/théo1 - 24 sept // 3 notes // opp: michaela

teddy/colin1 - 24 sept // 3 notes // opp: michaela

simon/matthias1 - 24 sept // 1 note // opp: jenny

❗️marley/harlow2 - 29 sept // 5 notes // opp: jenny

dante/marcus1 - 30 sept // 2 notes // opp: michaela

❗️max/ivy2 - 7 sept // 6 notes // opp: michaela

jude/olly1 - 13 oct // 0 notes // opp: michaela

ripley/amelia1 - 5 nov // 2 notes // opp: michaela

rory/bonnie1 - 5 nov // 2 notes // opp: michaela

simon/billy2 - 10 nov // 3 notes // opp: michaela

ezra/kian2 (mini) - 14 nov // 3 notes // opp: michaela

ripley/amira1 - 15 nov // 5 notes // opp: michaela

jen owes.

❗️louis/wardo4 - 26 june // 3 notes // opp: danielle

charlie/persephone1 - 7 aug // 0 notes // opp: michaela

maggie/amelia1 - 13 aug // 4 notes // opp: michaela

ariadne/jasper1 - 13 aug // 4 notes // opp: michaela

jackson/dante2 - 12 sept // 3 notes // opp: danielle

billy/ariadne1 - 25 sept // 2 notes // opp: michaela

louis/wardo1 (mini) - 28 sept // 3 notes // opp: danielle

charlie/marcus1 - 29 sept // 2 notes // opp: michaela

charlie/elodie1 - 02 oct // 3 notes // opp: michaela

❗️matthias/colin1 - 7 oct // 4 notes // opp: michaela

noah/poppy3 - 13 oct // 0 notes // opp: michaela

❗️harlow/rafferty1 - 17 oct // 10 notes // opp: danielle

killian/amira4 - 08 nov // 4 notes // opp: michaela

chess/ivy3 - 10 nov // 4 notes // opp: michaela

noah/flynn1 - 11 nov // 3 notes // opp: michaela

matthias/colin3 - 14 nov // 6 notes // opp: michaela

louis/kian1 - 14 nov // 4 notes // opp/ michaela

michaela owes.

marcus/maggie1 - 24 sept // 2 notes // opp: jenny

théo/lando1 - 28 sept // 3 notes // opp: danielle

❗️flynn/rae1 - 29 sept // 6 notes // opp: danielle

scotty/louis1 - 5 oct // 3 notes // opp: jenny

micah/joey1 - 6 oct // 2 notes // opp: danielle

persephone/bradley2 - 16 oct // 2 notes // opp: danielle

❗️maverick/raff2 - 16 oct // 5 notes // opp: danielle

❗️maverick/harlow/raff1 - 17 oct // 5 notes // opp: jenny & danielle

théo/jax1 - 13 nov // 1 note // opp: jenny

[evcrlasting]

She had been tempting fate by this. Every interaction with Matthias had been to be fair, but they were better. In a way, Flo was convinced they were better than they had ever been - as friends. Since that was all they where. Maybe it wasn't where she wanted them to be, but it was where they needed to be. Logic had continued to scream throughout their time but once again, as always, she pushed aside and focused on emotions. It was emotions that invited Matthias into her home. Logic worked damn hard to keep her from doing anything that made her look dumb. Even if she was more than willing to for Matthias. Yet the magic of just talking to him, as challenging as not doing more, was just as great. Flo didn't expect to find herself falling asleep. Though she had fought hard, it hadn't been enough. Arms stretched out, the feeling of a different setting prompted her eyes to open. It took but a minute to realize she was in her own bed. It took even longer to realize Matthias hadn't left her or still in her dream. Maybe that had been the reason she had asked him to get back in bed. Reality only hit as her hand connected with his, a hum leaving her lips. "Right now, I want you in my bed." Lightly she pulled him towards her, a bright smile on her face. This was much better than any dream. "I want you by my side. That has never changed. So of course, I promise. Promise me, that you'll always be honest. No matter what."

@evcrlasting​ send “will you please just come back to bed?” - Matthias & Flo 👀

His will was hanging by a thin thread ever since he had stepped inside Flo’s home. For what it was worth, the man had been nothing but a gentleman, always careful not to overstep what was making her comfortable in that strange moment they shared… while at the same time being very aware that both of them wanted to get closer to each other. Much, much closer. And yet, they had managed to talk almost all night - just like in the old days, when they had just started to date. But what was more shocking was that he hadn’t thought about drinking once while with her; instead, Matt only had eyes and mind for her and her alone. Things should’ve changed once she fell asleep and he took on the role of carrying her to bed, of putting her under the covers and not simply slipping under them, gathering her small frame into his arms like he used to do a lifetime ago. But once again Matthias had managed to be nothing but a gentleman. That was… until she awoke and asked him that simple, simple question. “I will… if you promise me something…”, his hand reached out for hers, a one sided smile dancing on his features. “To always tell me the extend of what you’re comfortable with… To always tell me where you want me to be.” 

[transsolar]

Freitag 29. März 2019 veranstaltet der Studiengang KlimaEngineering den diesjährigen Case Study Tag an der Hochschule für Technik Stuttgart. Das Programm beginnt mit einem Beitrag von Frau Sabine Djahanschah von der Deutschen Bundesstiftung Umwelt. Anschließend werden Architekten, Ingenieure und Bauherren aus der Planung und Umsetzung spannender architektonischer Projekte berichten.

Von 14 - 16.00 Uhr präsentieren Martin Haas (haas cook zemmrich Studio2050), Matthias Oppe (Knippers Helbig) und Christian Frenzel (Transsolar) die ALNATURA ARBEITSWELT IN DARMSTADT

ANMELDUNG & INFORMATIONEN Die Veranstaltung ist kostenlos und bei der Architektenkammer Baden-Württemberg und der Ingenieurkammer Baden-Württemberg als Fortbildung eingereicht. Anmeldung erbeten bis zum 25.03.2019 unter:www.hft-stuttgart.de/CaseStudyTag

[regicidios-blog1]

matthias and mikael vampire hunter au

continued from the twilight au

Right as the words constant suffering leave his lips, something shatters his window, shards of glass flying across the room as a familiar face somersaults into the dining room.With a silver bazooka pointed at Mikael, Matthias says, “You called?”Mikael’s face contorts into an affronted frown as he rips an arm off and flings it at the intruder — “That was Venetian stained glass, you fucking psycho!” —  his newly detached limb landing by the elbow on Matthias’ head, killing him instantly.

[daisyjoners]

14, 16, 20, 32, 33, 34

14: como você escolhe os nomes dos seus muses?

ENTÃO, aqui é uma longa jornada porque a maioria dos nomes eu acabo tirando de referência a algum livro/série/filme que eu goste bastante ou esteja vendo no momento...? às vezes rola de eu nem curtir tanto o personagem em si, mas já tô lá planejando char pra usar o nome KKKKKK. meus primeiros exemplos que vem na minha cabeça agora são a minha char elsie bennet, que o nome saiu da protagonista de para sempre interrompido da taylor jenkins reid & o sobrenome da família bennet de orgulho e preconceito (que eu tava lendo na época -qq), e o matthias que é puramente por ser meu personagem favorito de six of crows kkkkkkkkkkk

16: um fc que você adora ter como opp: (ou que gostaria de ter como opp)

vou responder no segundo caso, pq amo todos os fcs que tenho de opp <3 confesso que mato e morro pra ter um desses: andrew garfield, regé jean page, ana de armas, sydney sweeney & jennie kim

20: se seu char tem um passado ou momento difícil, você sente que isso lhe afeta? como se a dor fosse sua?

eu acho que não muito??? não que eu me dê conta pelo menos, mas confesso que às vezes eu fico emocional junto quando tá num momento de angst KKKKKKK

32: gosta de fazer edits para os chars e/ou couples/dynamics?

EU AMO!!! com os edits dou uma falhada pq tenho meus dias de boa vontade com o photoshop, mas tento sempre fazer pelo menos um pra cada plot (a meta é fazer pelo menos um pra cada partner, vamo que vamo) sempre que dá inspiração kkkkkkkkkk

33: costuma fazer playlists ou pastas no pinterest para seus chars?

com playlists acho que depende, pq geralmente quando eu penso em músicas que combinam com chars e plots acabo deixando anotado em algum lugar mas não faço muito sobre...? acabo  usando mais pra quando faço um edit ou pra arrumar o blogzinho do char (no caso de plots, uso pra tag), e por esses tempos tô tentando fazer uns editzinhos de playlista também. já de pinterest eu AMO, tenho pra todos os meus chars pastas porque me ajuda demais a entender bem melhor como eles são

34: como você seleciona os musings para seu char ou couple/dynamic?

acho que depende muito??? eu tô tentando sempre deixar aberta a lista de plots pra não acabar esquecendo de ninguém, como às vezes acaba fugindo da mente na hora h. e com chars tento dar uma variada quando são semelhantes, tipo, se é um post literário variar entre os chars que tem esse gosto...? porque admito que eu sou uma cocota culta que adora colocar esse traço de personalidade neles KKKKKKK vai variando entre os níveis, acabo apelando pro quão específico é mesmo