#along with being angry a lot of my hope has been in ordinary people

[mechieonu]

idk if this problematic in some way but i keep hope for a free palestine alive by being mad

[sarilolla]

Riley's fact list (Belongs to my Bee/main au)

This one-shot is connected to my main au "Hello Puppets with Bee" and is mentioned in chapter 18 of the sequel

Not a request - 1237 words

TW: Mention of past injuries, mention of past fire, mention of kidnapping, mention of past argument

Summary: Riley's fact list, showing some of what she went through since being brought to life

This is totally not a diary, how dare you assume that, Nick?

Riley's fact list — Fact #1: My name is Riley Ruckus. I am a scientist. I am a wooden puppet.

Fact #2: I have a dog named Rosco. He is the most precious being in the world to me. I have hurt him too much to count.

Fact #3: I have 3 friends people I care about love am stuck with.

Fact #4: Our creator was not a good man. He escaped. I am glad he is gone.

Fact #5: We will stand together and care for each other, forever.

Fact #6: We managed to get through the fire unharmed. We lost some of the building, but most of the hosts are still alive, for now at least.

Fact #7: We have started a form of routine. A routine is nice, even if what we are doing is despicable.

Fact #8: It has been at least 3 years now. People still try to check out the studio, but it is getting rarer.

Fact #9: I shouldn't have started picking on my fingers. My hands hurt a lot now. None of us can fix it, along with other minor injuries we all have gotten. Who would want to fix us anyway?

Fact #10: Nick is struggling with moving his elbows, having gotten too much “red paint” in them. Both Daisy and I tried to help, but he will probably struggle for a while. I told him to be careful with how he used the blood, but he didn't listen.

Fact #11: Time has begun to blur now. I can't tell how long it has been since we were brought to life. People have stopped coming to the studio for Halloween as well. A shame. I enjoyed the different costumes, and getting to scare stupid teenagers was so much fun.

Fact #12: We are considering kidnapping humans to become hosts. Whatever world domination plans Mortimer has is not going well, but he will never hear me say that.

Fact #13: I am the one kidnapping new hosts. I want to see it as an honor but- It's an honor. But it also means telling felt puppet recruits that the hosts are there willingly. The felt puppets are quite naive and most don't survive my tests.

Fact #14: Someone managed to defy the voice us. The felt puppet is named Scout. I am impressed. She failed my tests, however, so I won't see how this develops.

Fact #15: I have no clue how Scout defied the voice, but I wish I could replicate it. She was watching the last functioning TV when I found her. I think I broke it in anger, I am not sure.

Fact #16: Mortimer has said to give Scout another chance.

Fact #17: Scout failed her second chance. She met Daisy and Nick this time, somehow. She intrigues all of us, a valuable piece in this puzzle. Mortimer has let her have a third chance, which is fine with me. The more data I have on her, the better. How did she manage to defy the voice more this time?

Fact #18: We have decided to wait a while for Scout's next chance. She may be interesting to all of us, but we can't play favorites. That's what Mortimer called it at least… Knowing what we put these felt puppets through I don't think anyone would think it was playing favorites.

Fact #19: Daisy has gotten hurt, relatively badly as well. A small fire, but her arm is useless now, and it destroyed parts of her dress as well. We got the fire out though, and no more injuries occurred.

Fact #20: For the first time, Nick and I had a fight against Daisy, as in we agreed on our side of the situation. It hurt to argue against her, she is the one person I feel like I can properly talk to. We told her she couldn't keep using any of the kitchen stuff because something could start burning again. We destroyed the kitchenware that could be dangerous as Mortimer distracted her. She is really angry with us now. I hope she doesn't hate me.

Fact #21: We have gone back to a routine again. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened.

Fact #22: There have been fewer people around the studio recently, and I can't figure out why! Yes, maybe we had kidnapped a lot of people, but we needed the life force! It angers me, but I refuse to move outside what I have determined as the safe zone. Some things are best to be careful with.

Fact #23: I saw something odd today as I was out. I could tell someone was nearby, but I don't think they saw me. I hope not, at least.

Fact #24: I don't know how many years we have been here, but this is torture. I don't want to do this anymore. Someone has broken into the studio as well, we don't know many times. I am worried.

Fact #25: I was so close to catching that pesky human. They might have been whatever I could feel spying on me as I was out. But I don't think so. At least not the first thing that watched me.

Fact #26: The bastard human that has broken in so many times has finally been subdued. He is now Mortimer's host. We have all been wounded… I refuse to show the others what happened to me.

Fact #27: Nick made me a mask. He is a good friend.

Fact #28: My face hurts, and it is painful to talk. I don't know how long I can keep the injury hidden from the others. What the hell did that human use to hurt me?

Fact #29: We have come to the conclusion Scout will get her third chance soon. In everything that has happened, I think Mortimer just wants to rip the bandaid off and see whatever more trouble the tiny felt puppet can cause. I don't think she can mess up much more than she already has.

Fact #30: Scout is getting her third and final chance today. Her new host intrigued Mortimer, he suspects this time will be even weirder than the two first. He is keeping something secret about this human, I know it. It's not the fact she genuinely was a fan of her show, there must have been something else, as he spoke with Scout alone after she awoke.

Fact #31: Scout is a traitor. She and her host escaped. The human is called Bee, she was interesting, to say the least. I will try to go back to our regular schedule, but the fact someone on the outside now knows of us is worrisome.

Fact #32: Going back to my regular schedule has proven to work, but my thoughts are occupied. The voice doesn't like it, but the traitor and her host are consuming my thoughts. I wonder if I could escape-

Fact #33: Daisy has left. Neither Nick nor I got to say goodbye. Mortimer let her go. Will he let us as well?

[shirophantomvox]

Flower Pedals Hisoka x reader Part 2

Part 1

❤️♣️❤️♣️

As the day went on, Hisoka volunteered as a chaperone to your younger cousins. They wanted to play in the water while Hisoka sat under a coconut tree, sipping on a strawberry margarita. It would be pointless for an intoxicated man to be a chaperone but he is quite immune to heavy alcohol. Somehow, the sun’s beautiful reflection made Hisoka look like the man you slowly fell for. His job as a bodyguard for the most dangerous mafia in the country, his ability to speak French like a flipped switch, and of course his bulging muscles. Seeing him interact well with your cousins made him seem father-like. But why did he have to act so egotistical? Why couldn’t he be like the guys you saw on the Hallmark channel? Is being loved that hard to ask for? Then the hurtful incident earlier that day entered your mind once again. You didn’t want to break up with Hisoka but it was the only choice.

A tear ran down your face, something you hadn’t done in a while. A silent weep is something everyone needs to do once in a while but weeping in front of others can feel humiliating. Suddenly, you hear a knock on your door and someone enters without your permission. You quickly wiped your tears away and turned around quickly expecting it to be Hisoka. Instead, it was your beloved uncle smiling with a DVD in one hand and popcorn in the other but once he got a quick glimpse of your sad face, his smile disappeared. This time he didn’t run to your rescue but rather asked what’s wrong from a distance. He already knew it had to do with Hisoka but he was curious to hear more.

“Is it about your boyfriend?”

“Yes…”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Physically, no. Emotionally, yes. He has flirted with many people and disregards that I am there. He used to be all over me and now he acts as if I do not exist!”

“That’s horrible. But I have to break it to you. Some men like it when their significant others are jealous. It’s thrilling to them. If you dislike that, you should tell him.”

“I have! He will not listen to me!”

Your uncle grunted in anger and shook his head. He placed his index finger and thumb under his chin, thinking hard about something. Tears rolled from your eyes and felt like they could not stop.

“Come with me, darling.”

Following behind your uncle like a 5-year-old, he led the way to his newly renovated basement, and in that basement stood something that mimicked a lab. He removed a large blanket that covered a table full of glass test tubes and pink liquid. You were hopelessly confused as to why your uncle was smiling at his little creation.

“Uncle…what is all this?”

“Can you guess?”

“Sorry. I have no idea what it is.”

“It’s a love potion!”

You gasp and step back rather far from him. You frowned, not believing what your uncle has told you. Love potions were depicted and always fictional; they simply don’t exist. Hell, Cupid DOES NOT exist and yet he claims that he has made a love potion?! You have always known your uncle to be a wacky man but NOT THIS wacky! Not only did he have a small test tube of this love potion but he had at least 100 small bottles of it too!

“Uncle….don’t tell me…”

“Maybe Hisoka can take a shot of this…”

“U/N! No! That’s wrong!”

“Huh?”

“If he doesn’t love me anymore, I’ll break up with him. Plain and simple.”

“But y/n!-“

“No buts!”

Gosh, you sound like your aunt!

“Why do you have that anyway? I could have sworn you and auntie madly in love anyway.”

“We are….” He stopped talking for a brief moment as he made his way to the door. He did not want your aunt to overhear him speak or else she’d have his head.

“We’ve had a few tiffs lately and she is being distant. I was thinking of giving her this potion.”

“You can’t just…give her that! What if she’s allergic to any ingredient you put in there?”

“SHHH! It’s not a drug, ok darling? It’s essentially a cupid’s arrow in liquid form.”

“Oh yeah! And Santa Claus is real, right? Come on Unc. I’m going to sleep now.”

“Y/N wait! Wait!” Your uncle ran up the stairs after you to try and have an actual heart-to-heart conversation with you. In reality, The love potion wasn’t anything that would harm Hisoka or your auntie; it was something that everyone had. This “love potion” has many variants in the market already. It has its own juice, pop, and merchandise line. When people gave testimonies about them falling madly in love with their partners, you thought it was an absolute joke!

The day had reached 11 PM. The sun had set for the day and the bright stars shined brightly against the beach. Chrollo and the others had left hours ago probably forgetting that you and Hisoka had tagged along. As you cleared the dinner table, the love potion sat there, in its small slender glass frame. This had been extracted so it could be digested but still, you didn’t go anywhere near it.

“Don’t leave this unattended. If a person drinks too much, they’ll become a fool for you and as romantic as that sounds, it can be VERY overwhelming.”

As you turned the lights off downstairs, the front door barreled open. Your eyes had been adjusted to light for the last few hours; seeing in the dark was nearly impossible. But one thing is for sure, that infamous bubble gum small dashed towards your nostrils.

Hisoka.

The lights turned on once again and this time, they began to flicker a little. Hisoka’s piercing golden eyes were able to grab a hold of yours instantly. It felt like you were paralyzed with sudden fear and anger. So many emotions raged throughout your body; your brain sending many signals to the various parts of your body. Both of your cousins come running in, arms stuck out like airplanes zooming all through the living room. One flew underneath Hisoka’s legs and the other flew many times around you. Their sudden joy made you smile a little; they were so full of joy and hope…that is until they grow up.

“I like your boyfriend, y/n!”

“Yeah! He’s so fun! He taught me how to play Poker!”

“You what?!”

“Hey! She needs to know in case she needs to make some cash.”

“Ok, you two. Up to bed. Mom and Dad are waiting for you.”

Both of your cousins zoom into their rooms making loud airplane noises.

“I must admit, I see potential in those kids. They made their own marshmallows, mingled amongst people their age, and even reminded me when their bedtime was.”

He looked from the staircase to you. “Thank you for—“ he stopped as he looked at your angry face.

“—Are you still mad about earlier?”

“What do you think, jerk?”

“Would you stop playing hard to get? You haven’t given me a kiss today.” He bent down and puckered his lips, expecting you to respond. Instead, you turn the lights off leaving a kiss-less Hisoka in the dark. Hisoka stood in the middle of the dark living room beyond confused at your actions.

Finally! Alone at last. No one to interrupt your thoughts or sleep, just you in your auntie’s guest room. The bed was extra comfy! It was so fluffy that it almost made you get up and inside Hisoka to sleep with you.

“No. He needs to learn his lesson,” you thought to yourself. Besides, a non-married couple sleeping in the same bed together was NOT going to fly in this house. Before you knew it, your eyes were closed for what felt like 20 minutes but were actually 8 hours. The sun beamed through the curtains acting as your silent alarm clock. Stretching your muscles and yawing felt amazing after a good night’s sleep. Checking your phone was a reflex but feeling an odd source of shadows made you freeze. As you slowly turned around, Hisoka was laying in your bed, with his boxers on, smiling, and gawking at you; something he’d never done. You thought rubbing your eyes twice would make him go away, but he was still there in the flesh. Still angry about yesterday's encounter, you stare at him plainly.

“What in the world are you doing here, Hisoka?”

“To be with you, of course, my dear.” His tone was much softer; it felt as if he was barely moving his tongue. His lips slightly puckered as he spoke. Your boyfriend was always mysterious but it can be said that he was never predictable.

“What are you talking about?”

He scoots closer to you; his bare chest rubbing against your right arm. He places his left arm around your neck pulling you closer. So close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. He took his index knuckle, placed it under your chin, and lifted.

“Oh, how I missed your face…the sound of your voice…my heart aches for you.”

You blink twice.

Am I dreaming? What is going on here?!

“Hisoka—“

He placed his index finger over your lips; his long nail gently scratches the top part. “Shhh….” Quickly but softly, Hisoka gives you a kiss but not just an ordinary kiss, one that is very breathtaking. His lips were much softer than you remember and a lot moister. He didn’t force anything; he gently moved his lips to make you more comfortable. What felt like a lifetime was truly only 10 seconds and on the 11th, he parted. Gazing into his golden eyes this time made your heart skip a beat. You remained silent, slightly afraid to say a word as he stared into your eyes deeply. This was not his blood-lust look at all but awfully similar. His eyes were half-lidded but they were soft, much softer than you had seen before. Just as you were about to say something, he gently grabs your face and begins to kiss you all around without remorse. This overwhelming amount of affection not only made you bluff but be utterly embarrassed if your aunt and uncle caught you two in this state. It’s more of the family “aww’ ing” than anything else.

“How did Hisoka suddenly do a 360 from last night?”

“Might as well enjoy this while it lasts.”

Hisoka continued to place soft kisses. He began to pepper your lower jaw with them, earning a slightly satisfied grunt from yourself. He then professed his love for you as he kissed you in between phrases. The magician himself was as red as an apple while you were a giggling mess. He moved his lips to another part of your body. His hand kisses felt amazing once more. He moved his way up your arm and to your shoulder.

“You smell terrific, kitten,” he said in a lower huskier voice.

You growl in response; something so embarrassing that you are happy your nosy little cousins did not hear.

“You’re so adorable, kitten. So delicate that I’d be afraid to touch. So beautiful like the colors and aroma omitting from a blossom tree.”

“I love you to the moon and back.”

Before Hisoka said another word, he placed his right hand where the bottom of your head and neck met. He gently caressed it as he pressed his forehead against yours. The soft feeling of his nose moving swiftly against yours felt like ecstasy. Nothing could ruin this moment.

“Hisoka’s a simp!”

Both of you jerked your heads to the door. Through the crack, you could see two curious pairs of eyes, staring into your room. Before Hisoka could leave the bed, you jump over him and march to the door.

“You know, it’s rude to stalk people in their bedrooms.”

“And? It’s rude for you to be staying the night in my beach house and not giving us any money. Hand it over sis.”

You close the door and jump back into bed with your new boyfriend. Hisoka practically had hearts in his eyes. It’s as if he saw no one but you.

Maybe he has changed….

Your uncle’s voice could be heard a distance away and that’s when it hit you.

“Don’t leave this unattended. If a person drinks too much, they’ll become a fool for you and as romantic as that sounds, it can be VERY overwhelming.”

Oh shit! Where is the potion?! No! It was left on the table last night!”

"Really, Unc? I think I can deal with this. After all, he is less insufferable. I’ve always wanted my beau back and I hope he remains this way…falling on his knees before me."

To be continued....

[deafeninggardenerpanda]

This was Diamond Town. It was a small town surrounded by huge diamond mines and filled with diamonds dug out of said mine. It was also divided into two areas. The center was the "Town of Light" where aristocratic mansions were lined up. Surrounding it was the "Town of Wind" where ordinary, but cheerful residents lived. Kirby, Waddle Dee, and President Dedede were residents of the Town of Wind.

Kirby's home was a room in an apartment where no one lived. He was secretly living in a building that would soon be torn down. It was a rundown apartment, but Kirby loved it. The first reason was the the window. The window was partially broken, so it was well ventilated. Second, even if he sang as loud as he could, no one would get angry. The third thing was that a small airplane could be parked on the roof of the building. Kirby was very good at flying airplanes. He enjoyed carrying his luggage, taking an airplane, and going on an adventure to a distant city. 

Dedede, the president of a nearby factory, was his airplane racing rival. The maneuvering skill of President Dedede was not bad, but he was not as good as Kirby. In the race yesterday, Kirby brilliantly achieved a hundred consecutive victories against him. 

Even though the sun was high in the sky, Kirby was sleeping comfortably. A wooden apple crate placed near the window acted as his bed. In his dream, Kirby was boarding an airplane and flying around the sky. 

" ... Let’s ... do it ...  Somersault ...! " he said sleepily. The front door opened and Kirby's friend, Waddle Dee, jumped in.

"Good morning, Kirby! Hey, get up. Big news!" Waddle Dee gently woke Kirby. He rubbed his eyes and got up, still half-asleep. 

"Hmm ...? Ah, good morning, Waddle Dee. Breakfast, I'll have it ... "

"Yes, yes, finish up," Waddle Dee took a sandwich out of his pouch and handed it to Kirby. He always carried food with him for his gluttonous friend. Kirby's drowsiness immediately disappeared.

"Wow, egg and ham sandwich! I love your sandwiches!" Kirby smiled and bit in. 

"Hey, listen. There's big news," Waddle Dee announced in a loud voice. "This is this morning’s newspaper." Waddle Dee spread the newspaper and showed an article with a big photo.

Kirby stared at the newspaper blankly. "’An Ancient Machine Discovered in the Diamond Mine!’ ...? What is this?" 

"A mysterious machine was found in the mine. It's so old that it's buried all the way in the back. It seems that it was dug out by chance." 

"Hmm ... " Kirby wasn’t interested in diamonds or ancient machines. Waddle Dee grew frustrated.   

"It's a nice machine. Look at millionaire Mr. Fugo's photo and comments on it," Waddle Dee said. He showed Kirby a photo in the newspaper. 

The one in the picture was a smiling gentleman with a beautiful mustache. He was no stranger to the inhabitants of this town. Mr. Fugo was a rich man and the owner of a diamond mine. Not only that, Waddle Dee explained that most of the city, from railroad companies to bread factories, belonged to Mr. Fugo. 

"It seems that this ancient machine has great power, but it doesn’t work now."

"Why not?" 

"Because important parts of the machine are gone: the gears. So, Mr. Fugo put a prize on them. A prize of ... one million Point Stars!" 

Kirby wasn't interested at all when he heard the amount of money Waddle Dee shouted. He finished eating his sandwich and opened his hands with a bright smile.

"I’d like tuna and cucumber sandwiches tomorrow! Ah, but bacon and tomatoes are also good. It's delicious with fried shrimp and potato salad ... " 

"Ah, Kirby," said Waddle Dee. He spoke a bit louder so that Kirby could understand the greatness of the prize. "Listen carefully. Don’t you know how much that is? You can buy thousands of nice clothes!" 

"Hmm."

"You can buy thousands of high-end hats!"

"Huh."

"And ... and ...! You could eat a deluxe lunch for 100,000 people at Chef Kawasaki's restaurant!" 

" ... Eh!?"

Kirby, who hadn’t been listening until now, squealed with widened eyes. "100,000 servings ...!? Of the most luxurious deluxe lunch!?" 

"Y-yes, but that was just an example ... " 

"Wowwww!" Kirby grabbed Waddle Dee's hand tightly and started running. "Let's go, Waddle Dee! Fast, fast! If we don’t hurry, lunch time will end~!"

"Oh, calm down, Kirby," Waddle Dee said while being dragged along. "You need the prize to eat the deluxe lunch for 100,000 people, and you have to find the gears to get the prize." 

"Uh ... yeah ...? " 

Waddle Dee spread the newspaper. "The article. Read what it says."

According to millionaire Fugo, the ancient machine had the power to make everyone happy, however, the gears were stolen by an evil wizard and the machine stopped working. The stolen gears should still be sleeping somewhere in town.

"If the gears are found, the machine will work again. I want to make the citizens of this town happy. For that reason, I’m willing to put my entire fortune into it,” he had said, so he promised a huge prize for the gears of the ancient machine.

"But even if there wasn’t a machine like that, everyone would feel happy if they ate Chef Kawasaki's deluxe lunch," Kirby said curiously. Waddle Dee laughed. 

"If it were you, maybe, but everyone's wishes aren't the same as yours." 

"Eh?"

"I think ... " Waddle Dee said with shining eyes, "the wonderful ancient machine will surely fulfill each and every one of our wishes. Kirby's wish is to eat a lot. President Dedede's wish is to win an airplane race. I hope it’s a machine that can fulfill each and every one’s wish."

Kirby smiled. "What kind of wish do you have, Waddle Dee?"

"Huh?" 

"You must have a wish too, right? What kind of wish do you want to make?"

"I ... I, uh ... " Waddle Dee closed his eyes shyly and spoke. "I want to eat a sweet called ‘chocolate.’ Just a bite."

" ... Chocolate ... " 

You couldn’t get sweets in the Town of Wind. Only the aristocrats of the Town of Light could eat such luxury goods. Kirby sometimes flew to distant cities, so he had eaten delicious sweets from all over the world. Waddle Dee, however, had only eaten sweets by listening to Kirby's stories and imagining it. Even if Kirby bought souvenir sweets, they were all picked up by the guards at the entrance of the city. The rules of Diamond Town were strict, and people were not allowed to bring sweets in without permission. Kirby spread his hands wide.

"Don't say just a bite! Let's eat a lot—as much as we can!" 

Waddle Dee nodded. "That's right. Let's eat a mountain of chocolate together! I'm looking forward to it."

"Yeah! To do that, We have to find the gears!" 

"Let's do our best!" the two cheered.

Around the same time, President Dedede was visiting a café in the neighborhood. The store manager smiled at the president.  

"Welcome, President Dedede." 

"Give me the lunch special. I’ll have a large serving of bread with it."  

"Yes, the lunch special and a large serving of bread."

President Dedede was a regular customer of this shop, "Daroach’s Café." It was a small shop, but it was popular because it served good coffee and lunch. The store manager was a hard-working man named Daroach. 

President Dedede sat down by his favorite window, spread out his newspaper, and started reading. He spoke while Daroach brought out the plates.  

"Did you hear, manager? The big news in the newspaper?"

"Hm? Oh, do you mean yesterday's airplane race? I heard from a friend—it’s a shame." 

Dedede gave Daroach with a sour look. "Hmph! That’s boring, I don’t care about stuff like that. I'm talking about the ancient machine."

"What? Ancient machine?" 

"It seems a great machine was found in the diamond mine." President Dedede pointed to the newspaper.

Daroach read the article. He seemed amused. "Heh, I don't know about the truthfulness of it, but it's a fun story. What kind of machine makes everyone happy?" he said.

"Read the rest of the article. It says that someone will pay a prize for those gears."  

"Huh, really? Such a large amount of money. Just finding some gears can make you that much ...? " 

"They’re not just any old gears. They’re special gears that can make ancient machines move. They’re not easy to find. Hm, I don't know ... " 

"Right, but if anyone could find them, I bet it’d be you." President Dedede was quiet as he thought about Daroach’s words. 

"Really? You think so?"

"I do. You’re smart and have a lot of courage. I think you could do it."

"Wise words. Well, I think so, too."

"Heh, please find them. And if you get the prize, please order a special lunch every day at our store."

"Hahaha! I'll buy the entire store, more like it."

"I look forward to it."

President Dedede finished his meal in good spirits and began to leave. After he left, however—the aura around the store manager changed. Daroach muttered in a low voice, with a harsh light covering his face and a fearless smile in his mouth. 

"An ancient machine. Isn't that an interesting story?" At the same time, the door opened and a new customer came in. As soon as they did, Daroach returned to the face of a working store manager and greeted them with a cheerful voice.  

"Welcome! Seat yourself! Today's lunch special is hamburger steak!" 

The manager of the popular café was merely a guise. No one knew his true face in the Town of Wind.

The Town of Light, which was lined with aristocratic mansions, was a quiet area that was completely different from the messy streets of the Town of Wind. The road was wide and there was no trash to be seen. The scent of flowers from the gardens here and there was just right, and beautiful music could be heard from somewhere nearby. Every day and every night, a party was held in a mansion somewhere.

Tonight, a certain mansion in particular was crowded with guests who had arrived. Luxury meals were carried out one after another, and conversation was lively. During this, one of the guests stood up. He was a fine gentleman with a masked face and a red rose in his chest pocket.  

"Oh? Are you leaving already, Meta Knight? If you’d like, you can take the dessert home with you." The lady of the mansion, unfortunately, stopped the guest.

"It's an exquisite chocolate cake handmade by our chef. By all means, I insist you—"

"No, it's fine. I'm done." When Meta Knight left, the aristocrats whispered.  

"Maybe Meta Knight isn't interested in cakes ... "

"He's a cool person. I don't think sweet foods are good for his reputation ... " 

"Oh, such a shame. I’ll have to tell the chef not to make such a sweet dessert ... "

After leaving, Meta Knight got in his car and returned to his own mansion.

"Welcome back, my lord," the butler, Vul, greeted respectfully. "How was your party?" 

"The same as usual. Nothing but conversations and heavy food. I'm sick of it."

Meta Knight was polite in public, but not so much at home. He continued to speak as he walked down the corridor.

"Has anything changed while I was away?"

"No. There were no phone calls, and as for guests ... " Butler Vul opened the living room door. Just then ... 

"Hey, I’m home~!" 

A cheerful voice rang out from inside. Vul was so surprised he nearly fell over. Someone was sitting on the sofa, but Vul didn't remember guiding anyone.

"Huaghhhh!? Da- Da- Daroach ...!? Why you ...! From where did you ...!? " Meta Knight stopped him before he burst a blood vessel.

"It doesn't matter. The usual."

"It's because it's the usual that it's troublesome! Time and time again, in this house without my knowledge, sneaking into these halls—! Today, I have to say it's gutsy ...! "

"I said you’re dismissed."

"But ...! "

"Get me two cups of tea."

Butler Vul looked as if he was about to be sick, but when his lord, Meta Knight, commanded, he had to obey. When Vul left, Meta Knight turned to Daroach.

"Good grief. When you come next time, ring the doorbell and come in through the front door. Don't upset the butler." 

"Sorry, I’ve never gotten along with that guy." Daroach grinned and held up a paper bag. "For you: an eclair. I used a lot of the chocolate you gave me the other day. I was thinking about what kind of sweets to make since chocolate is a luxury item that I rarely get, but I thought a simple eclair was best."

" ... Thank you." 

Meta Knight’s countenance didn’t change, but his voice sounded happy. He didn’t dislike sweets. On the contrary, they were his favorite, however, the sweets that Daroach made were so delicious he couldn’t be satisfied with anything else. Aristocrat Meta Knight and Daroach, the café manager in the Town of Wind. Although they lived in different worlds, for some reason, they became friends after getting to know each other during a certain incident. It was rare, but if there was something wrong Daroach would sneak in from somewhere, like tonight. Butler Vul angrily brought in tea and left again. Daroach started his story. 

"Tonight's errand is about gears. Are you listening?" 

"Are they from a machine that was found in a diamond mine?"

"Oh. If you already know, I’ll make it quick. If someone finds all of the gears, they will get a great amount of money awarded to them."

"I'm not interested," he simply said.

Daroach looked disappointed. "Hmm. You're a very rich aristocrat, however, even if you’re not interested in gold, what about an ancient machine? Don’t you think it’s fascinating?"

" ... Not particularly."

"It's a machine made by a lost civilization. Its power is probably far greater than anything we can imagine."

" …………… "

Meta Knight was silent. He was not interested in money, but he was strongly attracted to mysteries and adventures. Daroach knew it well.

"To tell the truth, I don't want the prize, either." 

" ... What?"

"I want to know what Fugo’s true motive is. Why would he have such a ridiculous prize? I wonder if he's trying to take the gears for himself ... He says, ‘I want to make the citizens happy,’ but that can't be true."

Meta Knight nodded immediately. "I wonder." 

Mr. Fugo was known as a kind-hearted millionaire. He was grateful to everyone for holding parties and made donations for the residents of the Town of Wind, but Daroach and Meta Knight both knew it wasn’t how it seemed. 

Daroach had excellent subordinates. They dug into newspapers and worked in aristocratic mansions and passed on the information they gathered to the boss, Daroach. Mr. Fugo was anything but a kind-hearted millionaire. He tricked people, made sly deals, and made a lot of money. Daroach wanted to reveal the truth right away, but there was little evidence. He couldn’t stand by, though. If one turned a blind eye to evil, they would inevitably be crushed by its weight. He strengthened his voice.

"I'm sure he’s planning to use that ancient machine to make a lot of money. If we can get proof of that, we can expose him."

"Exposing evil ...? It doesn’t seem like you," Meta Knight laughed. "You're not a hero of justice. You're a thief, right? I thought you were only interested in treasure." 

"C’mon, stop it." 

Daroach stood up. Out of nowhere, he took out a red top hat and cloak and donned them gracefully. He grinned as he tipped his brim.

"You don't need to worry when you’re with someone like me. I am the great thief Daroach who travels the world!"

Yes, this was his true identity. In the daytime, a cheerful café manager, but at night, in the darkness, a bandit who steals the treasure of bad aristocrats. His technique was splendid and artistic. He didn’t hurt anyone, nor leave any sort of evidence. 

"Oh, I know. I'm sorry." 

When Meta Knight apologized, Daroach stowed his hat and cloak. He was back to how he was before.

"Please, tell me your reply. Let’s find out what Fugo’s up to, and let’s find out the mystery of the ancient machine, together. You and I."

"Okay." Meta Knight nodded. Daroach smiled.

"If that’s your decision, we’re ready to take action. First, we have to gather information. I'll use my subordinates to search. You investigate around Fugo." 

"All right."

"See ya," Daroach said.

He jumped with light footsteps and left through the open window.

In the blink of an eye, the great thief Daroach was gone.

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[writesowhatnext]

we’re only getting older, baby // george weasley

Summary: enemies // that’s how you and george weasley started out

Request: nee

A/N: this has been in my head a while and essentially it’s a 3-part enemies-to-lovers thing and I am excited about it!!!!! And also Y/L/N is your last name which I usually skirt around but couldn’t in this :)

Reader: female, Slytherin

Warnings: swearing, arguments

enemies // friends // lovers // epilogue

Almost immediately, you could tell there was something wrong with that bludger.

You were a beater, and a hell of a good one at that, and so you had a knack for knowing when a bludger was acting strange. It was your job, really, and you considered the one that seemed to have a death wish for Harry Potter definitely out of the ordinary. Until it broke off the end of Wood’s broomstick and sent him spiralling to the ground, you hadn’t even noticed it and whilst you had absolutely no love for the Gryffindor keeper, or Harry Potter for that matter, you knew that a bludger, especially a rogue one, could do a lot of damage.

Despite the inevitable grief you’d get from your teammates, it was obvious that Potter was probably quite important in the grand scheme of things in the wizarding world and it seemed that whilst you did really want to win the match, you were also pretty fond of being alive. And so, after a few moments of internal debate, you cursed under your breath and set off after Potter, your bat at the ready.

“Y/N Y/L/N, Slytherin beater, is… following Harry Potter?” Lee Jordan shouted over the speakers, garnering a healthy level of confusion from the crowd.

When the bludger came at him, certain to knock him off his broom if you did nothing, you huffed and adjusted the bat in your grip. With a grunt, you smacked it away, sending it spiralling across the other side of the field.

“What- what are you doing?” Potter stuttered; his eyes wide as he looked at you. They turned into saucers when he looked to your right and without thinking, you surged your broom forward and turned, the bludger striking your bat so hard the vibration reverberated right down your wrist.

“No need to thank me, Potter,” you said dryly, looking around for a blur of black in the sky. “Bludger’s enchanted; if you were smart, you’d get out of the sky.”

Out the corner of your eye, you saw Flint and Pucey sandwich one of the Gryffindor chasers, angling her into the Hufflepuff stand. You rolled your eyes at them, already vaguely irritated at the presence of your own morals, their cheating only adding further insult to injury. You couldn’t deny your annoyance that every Slytherin success was surmounted to pure cheating and they did nothing to help the case.

Turning around to reprimand Potter, you groaned when you saw him disappear into the stands followed by a flash of green and white. The bludger soared after both him and Malfoy and you ground your teeth together, reluctantly flying over.

“As Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy search for the snitch, they are followed into the stands by a bludger!” Lee Jordan’s voice rang out. “And Y/N Y/L/N?”

Loud, echoing boos filled the air as you grasped your broom, trying to listen to the sound of beams being broken by the weight of the iron ball. You rolled your eyes, barely stopping in time as the dark object whooshed in front of you, the force of it blowing a gust of wind through your quidditch robes.

As it curved in the air, preparing to circle back into the stands and no doubt maim Harry Potter, you prepared yourself. With your shoulders set back and palms gripping both your broom and bat tightly, you inhaled, watching it gather momentum. Absentmindedly, you contemplated how far Potter would fly if it hit him. Then, with a hefty swing, you sent the bludger over the top of the stands, so far that it disappeared for a few moments in the mist. The sound of your bat cracking down the middle was a horrible one, the wood pinching your palms as you grimaced. You slowied your broom down to a stop and hoped they’d give you a replacement. That is, if you were even allowed on the team anymore, after this stunt.

You only remembered why you’d cared so much about the bludger in the first place when both Potter and Malfoy rocketed out of the stands with their arms outstretched in efforts to reach the snitch you were far too far away to see. A chuckle left your lips as Malfoy hit the ground, rolling over twice before lying still, clutching his side. Potter, however, was a different story and when he tumbled to the ground, your mood soured as in his opened palm, was a shining golden glint that could only be the snitch. Applause and cheers rang out through the stadium along with Lee Jordan’s incessant shouting and you huffed, your shoulders sagging as you lowered your broom to the ground. You’d never hear the end of this, you thought crossly, knowing Flint would more than likely bar you from the team.

Strolling casually over, you didn’t even blink as the bludger soared back from where you’d hit it, never wavering from its desire to pulverise Potter. It exploded in the sky just above him as you dragged your broom across the field, only mildly interested in the swarms of people invading the pitch. You were halfway between Malfoy and Potter when you slowed to a halt, standing your broom up and watching carefully as crowds surrounded them both.

“Oi, Y/L/N!” Flint called; his anger palpable. You clicked your jaw and twisted your head to face him, clutching the handle of your broom tighter at the look on his face.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“The bludger was-“

“I don’t give a shit! Why weren’t you paying attention to the game?”

“Me?” you said indignantly and probably far too loudly. “I was the only one that bloody noticed that bludger going after Potter.”

“That was fine by us,” he said, shrugging. “With Potter out the way, we’d win the match easily.”

“You’re such a fucking troll, Flint,” you snapped. He lunged at you, only for you to slam your hands into his chest, pushing him back.

“Don’t forget whose side you’re on, Y/L/N,” his breathing was ragged as he got close to your face. “Helping Potter’s done you no favours.”

“Helping?” someone called from behind you. “She wasn’t bloody helping anybody!”

You turned around to see the Gryffindor team collecting behind you, the Weasley twins looking decidedly angry as they glowered at you.

“She was firing bludgers at Harry the whole bloody game,” George said gruffly.

You grumbled, tilting your head to the side, already done with the whole debacle.

“He’s lucky he’s alive!” Fred added, scowling. “What, with her stalking him the whole time!”

“Oh really?” you asked, turning to the twins, the air turning tense. “Where were you idiots, then? He’s on your bloody team, isn’t he?”

“Hey!” George leant forward, his fist clenching at his side. “That’s not-“

“That was blatant cheating,” Wood interrupted, his voice stern.

“Remind me, Wood; isn’t hitting the bludger at the other team the beater’s job?” Flint asked, though judging by the dirty look he sent you, you were inclined to believe that his intention wasn’t to stick up for you.

“This is different, Flint. That bludger-“

“Was enchanted!” you said, throwing your arms up, only to catch the eye of George, who seemed more irked than ever.

“So that’s your excuse, is it? Bloody enchanted, eh?”

“Have you ever seen a bludger behave like that, you moron?” you countered, leaning closer to him, itching to just punch him in the jaw.

“Typical Slytherin,” he muttered, his red brows drawn together. “Cheats, the lot of you.”

You started forward, beyond prepared to start a fight when Professor McGonagall stepped between you, fixing her glare first on you before turning it to George.

“I think we have more pressing matters to deal with,” she said pointedly. “Don’t you?”

You stepped backwards, still simmering with anger as you looked at Weasley, who also appeared barely able to control himself.

“Like restoring Mr Potter’s bones, perhaps?” she stared icily at Wood for a moment. “Or maybe Mr Malfoy’s ribs?”

Her stare trailed back to you and her lips twitched and if it hadn’t been for Malfoy’s overly-dramatic groan, you thought she’d probably have never looked away. With a miffed huff, you turned on your heel and stormed off, muttering under your breath.

You didn’t see George Weasley again until Professor Lockhart’s stupid duelling club. You were peeved enough that you had to be taught by a glorified mannequin, but having to navigate around all the spiders that kept cropping up everywhere was slowly pushing you over the edge. George Weasley was just the icing on the cake.

“You know, Fred,” he started, a teasing grin on his lips. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Y/N was the Heir of Slytherin.”

You rolled your eyes, purposefully stepping backwards to grind your heel into his foot. You were rewarded with a little yelp, but you stiffened when you felt him come closer behind you.

“Careful, George,” Fred said, the smile in his voice evident. “You could get yourself petrified.”

You scoffed, turning around sharply, surprised to see George’s face so close to your own.

“Oh, yes, Weasley!” you whispered rather loudly. “You’ve cracked the bloody case; I just go around petrifying people for the fun of it! Brilliant detectives, you prats are.”

They mocked your words, wobbling their heads from side to side as you whipped back to face Lockhart, suitably aggravated as you crossed your arms over your chest. A Hufflepuff from one of the lower years turned around to shush you and in turn, received the full brunt of your anger as you tutted loudly.

“Oh, piss off, Finch-Fletchley.”

Your mood only soured further when George snorted behind you.

Why George Weasley pissed you off so much you couldn’t say. Your head-butting was indisputably his fault with his catty remarks and stupid pranks and all just because you were a Slytherin. It would’ve been a lie, though, to say that you didn’t return the favour. Justifiably, though, you thought. Ever since your first year, it had always been the same; you and Weasley at each other’s throats, somewhat enjoying having somebody to hate, somewhat enjoying the rush of arguing with someone. Thankfully, though, you didn’t have to think about him a lot; you were rarely in the same classes and when you could, you just ignored him for the sake of your own wellbeing.

When you saw Harry Potter and the youngest Weasley boy, Ron, in the corridor, though, spying on the teachers as they examined one of the messages that had been sprouting up all over the castle, you couldn’t help but think of George. His little sister was missing and despite every insult you’d thrown his way, you felt bad for him. You knew that you should’ve reported them for being in the corridors when they shouldn’t have been, but you watched Ron’s expression go from upset to desolate as his eyes settled on you and with a quick decision you hoped you wouldn’t regret, you turned away. They whispered to each other as you walked in the opposite direction, confused as to why you acted as if you hadn’t even seen them.

You did, in the end, regret your kind gesture, and any other you’d done in the past, when George stormed into Slytherin common room, barrelling past the charms and stopping short right in front of you, panting like a stampeding rhinoceros. You clenched your jaw, standing up so that you were chest to chest.

“Was it you?” he asked, cutting straight to the chase.

You narrowed your eyes, fully aware of the dozens of ears eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Was what me?” you said slowly, trying to contain your anger. He really didn’t have a clue, did he? He never did.

“Oh, you know what,” he spat, joined by his brother Fred. You rolled your eyes, knowing that if everyone wasn’t already staring at you, they sure were now. “My sister.”

You bit back every retort you wanted to spout and instead leant forward, poking at his chest with your finger.

“Weasley,” you said, your voice level, but rippling with barely concealed irritation. “I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Yeah, well, you would say that- what?” he stopped, visibly taken aback.

“I heard about your sister,” you said, dropping your hand and looking at his chest. “I’m sorry she was taken. I didn’t do it.”

Fred, along with the rest of the common room, watched your jaw clench before you exhaled. The toll attempting to be civil to George Weasley was taking on your composure was obvious.

George opened and closed his mouth like a fish and, had you seen, you would’ve mocked him, but you didn’t notice. Your just lifted your chin as you sat down, turning back to your book and pretending that you could concentrate on the words with your heart thumping so loudly in your ears. You didn’t look up until he fled the room, his twin hot on his tail.

After that altercation, you didn’t see much of the twins. The castle seemed to somehow go back to normal, the petrified students reanimated again and the blood washed off of the walls like it was never there. Potter smiled at you in the corridors sometimes as well and though you didn’t mean for it, he always noticed the slight curl of your lips in response.

That particular day, you were lurking near the doorway of the Great Hall, waiting for the house-elves to bring out food for you to take on the train home.

As you dug dirt out from under your fingernails, you watched Granger walk past looking a lot less lifeless than the last time you saw her. She stopped in front of you, her smile faltering slightly under your stare, your eyebrow raised in question.

“I see you’re up and moving again, Granger,” you said offhandedly, hoping she would actually do something other than stare. “Can I help you with something?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at you before she just shook her head, scuttling off to where Potter and Ron Weasley were sitting at the Gryffindor table. You rolled your eyes at her as someone clearing their throat next to you drew your attention. You grimaced at the sight of Fred and George.

“Uh,” George said, his face alone enough to flare your irritation. “Harry told me that the bludger at the start of the year was enchanted by a house-elf.”

You stared at him passively for as long as you could before your anger bubbled over.

“So, you blamed me for the work of a bloody house-elf? Oh, right, yes, cheers, George,” you said sharply, watching Fred scurry away, leaving you facing his brother alone.

“Well-“ George said indignantly before you cut him off, leaning closer.

“And let’s not forget that you also blamed me for what You-Know-Who did in the ‘chamber of secrets’-“

“Right, I’m trying to say sorry here,” he said plainly, scowling.

“You what?” you asked, rather breathless after your little rant.

“I’m trying to say that I’m sorry for being such a git,” he said, the air thick as he waited for any semblance of a reaction on your face. “And to say thanks, you know... for not telling on Harry and Ron.”

George expected many things when you opened your mouth then: shouting, insults, a punch perhaps, maybe even a hex. What he did not expect, was rationality and fairness.

“Alright,” you nodded, your expression still hard.

“Alright?”

“Yes, fine, I accept your apology.”

“What?” he said, the stupidly confused look on his face stoking your rage again.

“Are you thick? I said I’m accepting your apology.”

“I didn’t expect you to accept.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to calm yourself down.

“Well, you don’t know a lot about me, Weasley,” you said, your voice surprisingly soft and almost religiously guarded.

He relaxed a little, strangely curious all of a sudden.

“I suppose I don’t…” he said, a wary grin pulling at his cheeks. “Maybe we could be friends?”

In fairness, he’d said it more to judge your reaction than anything; to test the waters between you.

You stared at his outstretched hand with a deadpan look.

“Don’t push it.”

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator​

@decadentwastelandtrash

@loveisblindness​

@xinyourdreamsx​

@brainlesspasta​

@hariosborn​

@staringmoony​

@rexorangecouny​

@alittletoomanyobsessions​

@peachesandpinks​

@yuptha-tsme​

@obsessedwithrandomthings​

@dreamer821​

@iprobablyshipit91​

@in-slytherin-we-trust​        

@haphazardhufflepuff​

@princesof-theuniverse​

@whovianayesha​

@ickle-ronniekins​ 

@harrysweasleys​ 

[sylvies-chen]

Prompt 89 for Brettsey 🙂

This fic is partially inspired by @katie-049's fic "Sprucing Up Chicago" (which is a very good thing because wow I'm obsessed with her AU seriously go check it out). Hope you enjoy this :)

89. "You're holding back."

Sylvie swears she isn't a violent or angry person.

It's three weeks after Julie's died. She'd cried in Matt's arms, been comforted by Stella-- hell, she's been comforted by her own damn parents. And it's helped, sure, but there's still residual pain left over. She's still processing the fact that she's gone. That after a lifetime of getting nothing, of always wondering who her birth parents were, Sylvie only got a month with her before she passed. It makes her angry.

People can't control when they die. Julie didn't mean to die, didn't choose to leave like this. But Sylvie deserved time from her, and she can't help but feel like Julie for dying before at least giving Sylvie a proper amount of time with all the answers she'd needed. It's not Julie's fault though. It truly isn't. So why is Sylvie still so heartbroken? And why is she mad?

Matt texts her on one of their days off though, tells her he wants to meet her somewhere. She agrees to it, not because he insists that it will help her, but because she really just wants to see Matt. He's always there for her when she needs it the most, to the point where she finds herself needing him a lot. Hell, who is she kidding? It's not just a need anymore. She wants him-- in every sense of the word, unfortunately.

But that's not the point of today. Today, according to Matt, is about helping her heal a little.

She pulls up to the address he'd texted her to meet him at and is a little surprised. It's some random, run of the mill house except it has tarps on its windows and the white picket fence is severely damaged.

"Hey," he greets her from the front porch of the house. He's in jeans an a t-shirt, which isn't out of the ordinary for Matt, but he's sweaty and there are subtle streaks of dirt on his arms and shirt. It makes him look rugged and messy-- and admittedly, very attractive.

"Hi," she replies in a mousy squeak. "What, uh. What are we doing here, exactly?"

"Right," he remembers, pointing back at the house while keeping his eyes on her. "Well, this is one of my projects for my contracting business."

"And you thought I'd like drilling things? Being a working man, sing a few Springsteen songs?" She guesses amusedly.

"No," he laughs breathily. "This house is being renovated completely. Come on, I'll show you."

What happens next is a terrifying, wonderful surprise. Matt motions toward the house with his head, then grabs her by the hand and leads her inside. His hand doesn't let go the entire time, even as he's opening the door. It's calloused and sweaty from the work she knows he must have been doing on the place, but it's warm. It fits perfectly into hers and it makes her heart skip a beat.

The moment's over before she can even register it though. He pulls his hand away when they walk inside the house and up to the series of bare walls and counters surrounded by tarps and sawdust.

What the hell is happening?

"It's demolition day," he explains to her with a slightly proud smile on his face. It makes her chuckle a little.

He picks up two sledgehammers and protective glasses off one of the counters. "I figured," he explains as he hands her one of the hammers. "This might help you blow off some steam. Normally, I take Severide on these kind of things but his life's not all that bad right now. You need this more than he does."

"Wow," she awes, looking around at the place. "I... I don't know, Matt. I'm not really one for smashing."

"It's a lot more fun than you think, I promise," he assures her. He hands her the second pair of goggles and she gives him a hesitant look for a minute. Eventually, she caves in. Who knows? Maybe this will be fun. She's trusted Matt before and has never once been disappointed, she doesn't see why this will be any different.

"Ok," she sighs amusedly. "Let's do this, Matt Casey."

Matt moves to inspect one of the walls they need to demolish and, when he finds the proper hollow spot through a series of knocks, he points at the spot and then backs away. "You can swing right there. Give it your best shot, Brett."

Sylvie giggles, moves to the wall, and whacks it with her hammer-- a little half-assed, if she's being honest. She's still adjusting to this lovably strange idea Matt had, so she isn't in the full swing of it yet.

"You're holding back," he points out, tilting his head to the side in mock disapproval. "Come on, hit it hard, Sylvie. I know you can do it. You're angry, right?"

"I'm not angry," she protests meekly, her eyes drifting off seriously. "You can't be mad at someone for dying, that doesn't make any sense."

"Of course it does," he counters supportively. "It's okay to be angry, that's part of the grief. Don't shy away from it. Own it."

"Right, okay." She nods, hyping herself mentally. "I can do this."

She stares at the wall intensely, until she locks eyes with the spot she needs to hit and sends the end of the sledgehammer through the wall with a loud, cathartic thwack!

It's a blur of rage. She whacks it once, then twice, three times. When she pulls away, there's a huge, gaping hole in the wall where a cluster of paint and drywall used to be. She stares at it in shock.

She hasn't done something like that since she was a teenager, helping her dad out with farm work in Fowlerton.

She hasn't done this whole "smash therapy" thing before. It's strange, but delightful. It helps the residual pain, anger, and grief flood away into the air along with the specks of dust. Eventually, she forgets the anger ever existed.

"Did I just do that?" She asks, pointing at the hole in the wall in bewilderment.

Sylvie turns to Matt and sees him staring at her with delightful surprise. "You did, yeah," he nods.

"I did that," she repeats, soaking it in. "I actually did that."

"How did it feel?"

"Ugh, so good!" She's ramped up on excitement and adrenaline and, before she knows it, she's practically slamming herself into Matt and wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He laughs, but it quickly becomes awkward so she pulls away. "Sorry," she apologizes after a while. "I got excited there."

"No need to be sorry," he replies bashfully, scratching at the back of his neck and clearing his throat. "I'm just-- I'm glad I could help."

"Yeah," she nods, smiling warmly at him. His gaze is intense and for a moment, she's reminded of just how much she truly cares for Matt. And, admittedly, just how much she wants to be with him-- even if she'll never admit it.

He really is just glad he could help. He means that. He always is.

[kpopsnowball]

The forum, the royal court accomplished over more than 1000 years back still displayed its glory because the present day royals still respected its essence of impartial, cut throat and pure justice. They truly believed in maintaining the etiquette even though it was the 21st century now. Afterall it’s not the throne running the royal blood instead it’s the royalties running the throne. Deep meaning, serves the purpose.

The Royal Family. The name itself made people bow down to them. The royal blood, the tag not different from any ordinary but it was their ancestors what made the common man respect them. Even their generations did good deeds and strived to make their royal blood live not in the fake glory but in it’s true pride. Being it the 21st century yet the traditions of royals had still been the same. The only change was their modern attire rest everything had been passed onto to the next generations similar to that of their throne. The traditions and rituals of royals have been strict and always kept no room for opposition. The sin for argument was simply being thrown out as rogue. They had their own set of laws and rules. Everyone were abide by the laws.

The Royal court, a special established building formed for maintaining the laws and orders was created 300 years ago. The main purpose of it was to maintain decorum in the working of their bloodline and to look after the word around the world. The main person in power to make decisions being the King or the Queen. Many people believed it be injustice because the court is for justice but the monarch system was followed. But to be honest, the royals never took advantage of their crown and made sure that fair chances and justice shall be given to the victim and the guilty.

“Her Royal Majesty, the queen have marked her gracious presence in the forum. We are obliged to have her royal majesty in the evening summit of the Royal Chambers. The summit shall commence now.” The Royal secretary, the chief of the court of justice announced the mark of the yearly summit and moved back to his place while placing the book record on the table in front of her royal majesty.

The royal court, circular in inner infrastructure with the worshiped throne placed in the back centre of the room along with lines of chairs emerging from its two sides placed in semi circular outline, lining the edges of the circular shaped forum. Each chair belonging to princes, managers and secretaries. The ordinary blood victim and guilty were abandoned from entering the blood tagged forum, another established court was made for them.

“Before we start, I want every further discussed information to remain confidential in the forum and between the Princes. I hope I made myself clear now” the queen, domineering, bold and fearless demanded while examining the records, a small frown taking place over her features. She was the current queen of the bloodline, a queen without a king in her late 50s yet her glory overpowered by her dominance made people quiver in fear. The crown on her head gave birth to many renowned rulers for hundreds of years. Her face wrinkled showing her age yet her sharp features with small almond shaped intimidating eyes made people bow their heads in front of her.

“Your royal majesty, I deeply apologise for the delay but Your Royal highness, Prince Knight have not marked his gracious presence yet” the royal guard informed with a bow and marched back, leaving the forum.

“This is disrespect to the forum. Consequences will be taken against Prince Vincenzo Knight. I will personally look into this matter. The forum shall begin now” the queen ordered with a displeased expression. Her own son abandoning the forum made her blood boil. She thought of taking strict actions against him. Even if it was the 21st century, decorum of the forum and the royalty shall always remain, she thought.

“Your royal majesty, two of our companies in London are facing a major financial crisis right now. Growth rate for past two years have been increasing by 24.7% but for past few months, the loss incurred is been rising from 6% to 21.9%. The senior manager has been requesting your royal majesty to look into this matter because of the sudden loss. No exact reasons are known and the company is suffering from major crises. Other companies are doing comparatively well but the overall margins of loss are increasing every month. Financially, our companies in London, New York and Japan are requesting for our immediate help. Thank you your royal majesty” the executive secretary stated the facts and with a bow returned back to his positioned chair.

“Prince Antonio Rodriguez, what do you think of this situation?” The queen directed her attention to the Prince, the one who was the master of finances making him gain the tag of financial advisor just at the age of 23. His wisdom and knowledge unparalleled, a true prodigy of his field but the royal majesty was displeased when she found him engrossed in his phone, making her finger twitch in anger. Afterall the queen she was, she was not a person to be neglected.

“Prince Antonio!” The queen raised her voice, making your royal highness flinch a bit.

“Mom, you surprised me! Why are you shouting?Relax” he said looking up, his dark brown eyes boring into hers, the past amusement vanishing. He was piqued by her dictatorial behaviour.

“Prince Antonio where is your attention? I have been calling you”

“And I have been telling you that I am not a Prince” he pounced back.

The queen was infuriated now, her patience low as the melting point of ice.

“The Summit is dismissed for now. I want to have a word with the Princes”

The Royal Secretary, managers and the guards immediately left the forum, a cold sweat breaking down their spine, the wrath of queen was not a joke to make. Now, only the three of them were alone in the room, the third person still not making his presence seen even of when he was physically present.

“Prince Christopher, may I have your attention please” the queen mocked him. He looked up to her from his book, his dark brown eyes covered with lenses stared at his mother, void of emotions and arched a perfect eyebrow. A staring competition took place between the mother and the son, sighing he gave up and stood up from his positioned chair towards his mother who was sitting on her throne.

“Yes mom. You have all my attention now. Tell me what’s the matter”

“Chris I bet your book would be more interesting than her talk” Antonio scoffed and walked towards Christopher and stood besides him. Christopher scowled at him and gave a warning look to stop and in response the man threw his hands in air as a defeat but his eyes still challenging.

“Antonio this is not a way to talk. You need to maintain your etiquette” the queen said, curling her fingers in a tight fist, her anger clearly visible in her sharp eyes.

Scoffing, “Etiquette? Why? Why should I maintain that? I don’t want to and it’s my choice” the man was clearly disturbed by his mother. He did not like her being controlling over him. Even though she did not do anything in the past hour yet he always searched for a reason just to oppose her, afterall he knows what happens behind the royal doors.

“Antonio! I won’t hear a no. I did not ask you for your opinion! It’s my order and you have to follow that Do you get that?!” the royal majesty was now beyond angry, she liked submission and despised domination over her, her hand tightly holding the handle of the throne now.

Antonio was about to pounce back but Christopher immediately placed his hand on his shoulder and stopped him. The man gave a warning look to Chris to stop and let him go but Chris shook his head and asked him to calm down. Antonio was actually a chilled out person but sometimes anger would take the best of him whereas Christopher was quite opposite to him, being quite, composed, but not shy, his dating history was longer than Antonio. He was the calmer and composed one in the Princes. The master of general knowledge. A book worm in particular but with a sharp wit.

“This is not the right time Nio. Stop okay? We need to discuss about him first” Chris whispered to the man besides him, calming him down but his features turning tense with the mention of him.

“She would never agree” the man whispered back to his brother, traces of pain visible over his features. They truly knew their mother.

“Let’s jus-”

A loud bang was heard interrupting their conversation. The huge antique carved door which was above 25 feet long was banged open, viewing a man in all black biker outfit clad tightly to his body, showing his muscular lean body paired with black boots, his one hand holding his helmet and the other pulling his hair back.

“Our queen was missing you a lot Vince! Show her your gracious presence your Royal highness” The past pain vanishing, Antonio mocked but in playful way earning himself a scowl from the man.

“What’s up with people scowling today” he whispered to himself.

“Vincenzo this is not how you should dress and behave in the forum. Do I need to make you all learn your manners?” The queen was clearly annoyed with his sons. Their behaviour and manners were questioning her upbringing.

The man did not reply and simply walked towards his positioned chair and unzipped his jacket and threw on the chair, revealing a tight black tee clasped on his body showing off his strong firm abs.

“Vincenzo! Do you hear me? I am talking to you!” The queen shouted in the forum, making her voice echo. The man did not even budge, he was busy removing his watch and wiping off the sweat from his head.

Christopher nudged Antonio and with his head motioned him to move back. Both the brothers moved to a corner, Christopher started reading the record book kept on the nearby table, a true bookworm he was whereas Antonio crossed his arms and was enjoying the show with a smirk. He knew what was coming next.

The queen was very annoyed now, she strode towards Vincenzo and pulled his arm to face him towards her but immediately the man harshly pulled his arm back with a deep scowl on his face, his eyes fuming making the queen turn even more mad.

“Don’t you dare show me your eyes, you better know your place”

“I definitely do. Queen” the man spoke for the first time he entered, venom lacing his last words.

“I am your mom rig-”

“You have lost that title years ago for me” Vincenzo beat it to her, his eyes burning in agony, the one buried for many years. Christopher immediately diverted his attention to the scenario unfolding in front of them. He looked at Antonio and both shared a bit surprised look. It was not new for them to hear this, but after years they have heard that sentence.

“As much as you try, you can’t change the fact that I am your mother Vince” the queen replied, devoid of any emotion. Her mind completely blank.

“Don’t call me that, I hate to hear it from your mouth” Vincenzo took a threatening steps towards his mother but the queen she was, her legs stood still, her eyes fuming now at the insult.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself down, she said,

“Then what do you want me to do?”

“I want to see regret in your eyes”

“And what if you don’t my beloved son” she smirked, evilness visible in her eyes.

“I will make you, your royal majesty” he smirked back.

She threw her head back and started laughing viciously, clapping loudly.

“Tsk tsk tsk, How would you do that son? Making air castles hun? You know that I am your queen right? The ultimate power. You won’t be able to go above me dear” a complete evil rant, it was not new for them to hear because they truly knew her colours, she was about to continue her evil motives but immediately the man’s next words froze everybody in the forum. The two brothers at the corner completely surprised and the fearless, dominating royal majesty going completely blank, a shiver running down her spine. And that was the last thing she wanted.

“What if I free him queen?”

© 𝐊𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 | 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

★𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @urowngoddess @purplepsycho03 @koishua @rr0zu @soleilsuhh @bluejaem @kunrengui @najatheangel @emuava @moon-jun @crescentjen @dundun-baby @sunryu @melonmochimoon @reiichann 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝.

★ 𝐀/𝐍: It was very amazing to write the first chapter. I actually searched a lot about the royal court and royal dress of the queen. The information I found was soo beautiful and I would definitely include it in my upcoming chapters. I wanted this chapter to be a bit of introductory to my characters and soon more things will also be revealed.

★ Please consider to leave a feedback or a reblog because it really helps me to learn and grow as a writer. Thank you soo much. Sending you lots of love and happiness❤️

★ 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐬

[lessonsfrommadamexmas]

EREN JAEGER AND THE ENNEAGRAM TYPE 6

First of all, to my followers, please excuse me. This account isn’t for SNK but it’s the one I have and I wanted to write this. 

Secondly, I hope this post finds the fandom lol. But if you’re expecting this to be another meta to judge Eren’s actions, don’t waste your time. The enneagram is a tool of understanding, not judgement, and I just wanted to share one thing I appreciate immensely about Eren’s characterization.

Well, why don’t we start with chapter 137? There, Zeke states that life’s purpose is to propagate and it’s core fear is to be extinguished. In other words, from the moment we are born, our organisms need to survive. As humans, we are on our own: suddenly, you gotta breathe on your own; the food is no longer provided. Everything is scary. A baby cries because everything is hard and far away and something in their biology tells them to keep fighting to survive. 

Now, onto a more spiritual approach. In El Eneagrama de la Sociedad, Claudio Naranjo says that several cultures have their own ideas and tales regarding a disconnection from a primordial state of wholeness. Once born, we become individuals and are separated from the Universe, as if we’re no longer in sync, and something is lost in the process. How can we survive? Our defense mechanisms start with that question. We need love, we need resources and we need to stand our ground in this cruel, but beautiful world. This, on the enneagram, is called “childhood trauma”. 

What I want to do in this post is to break down Eren’s character development through the lens of the enneagram, but for that, I need to give you an overview of the system. It is cruel and beautiful, just like the SNK world. It sees us with care and understanding but it also exposes the harsh truths we don’t want to see. 

The enneagram, first and foremost, is an ancient symbol, a figure of nine points connected within a circle. There’s a lot of fascinating history to it, but I’m gonna focus on what matters to this post. The enneagram is a personality system that encompasses nine essences of the Universe, and once our childhood trauma sinks in, we attach to one type which defines our worldview. Here’s how each enneatype manifests itself:

Type 1, the reformer: this person seeks to not make mistakes. They are principled and meticulous in everything they do but highly critical of themselves and others. 

Type 2, the helper: this person seeks to be needed. They are proud of their independence and helpfulness but believe they can only receive love if they give first. 

Type 3, the achiever: this person seeks to be worthy. They are motivated and ambitious but shape themselves around what is expected of them. 

Type 4, the individualist: this person seeks to build their identity. They are sensitive and creative but reject the ordinary and focus on what is harder to reach. 

Type 5, the investigator: this person seeks to be a specialist. They are perceptive and curious but withhold themselves and their resources and worry they’re never prepared. 

Type 6, the loyalist: we’ll talk about it in a moment.  

Type 7, the enthusiast: this person seeks to avoid pain. They are joyful and spontaneous but afraid of facing hardships and being swallowed by negativity and sadness. 

Type 8, the leader: this person seeks to be strong. They are fierce and protective but don’t allow themselves any vulnerability and need to be on top. 

Type 9, the peacemaker: this person seeks to be in peace. They’re kind and their inner stability is unshakable, but have a hard time asserting themselves.

So what does it mean to be a type 6?

Some of you might not believe if I told you that Eren is moved by fear. But that’s what it is. The type 6 represents fear itself. It’s our search for safety and support. The person who is a type 6 has disconnected from their inner guide and they don’t believe they have the same capability to make decisions as everyone else. That is more of an unconscious state, which manifests through an overly alert stance. Sixes are always on the lookout for threats and danger, their minds work predicting things that can go wrong, so they can be prepared. In other words, the type 6 fears how imprevisible life is, because they truly don’t find in themselves the compass to the answers they need “in this very moment”. They have to be one step ahead and they have to find outside structures for support, people in whom to trust and who’ll give them the guidelines and sense of balance. Fellowship and loyalty are essential to the type 6 as they look for reassurance in their concerns. 

In Personality Types: Using the Enneagram for Self-Discovery (1996), Don Richard Riso has described nine levels of development for the enneatypes. They are the path from our healthy, healed state where we’re closer to wholeness again (Level 1) down to our most broken state where we’ve abandoned ourselves (Level 9). 

When we start Attack on Titan, Eren is on Level 6. Here’s what Riso says:

“In its innocent forms, counterphobia is well employed by people to master their fears — for example, children who are afraid of the dark might purposefully go to a dark room to overcome their fear.”

Eren, too, wanted to overcome his fear since he was a kid. He wanted to go outside and face those faceless titans. He wanted people around him to be prepared, but since the Garrison was incompetent and lazy, he needed to be prepared. Grisha seems to be Eren’s first authority figure. From what we know, Grisha allowed Eren to have his own thoughts and didn’t impose anything on him, which is a kind of reassurance. Thus, with his father, Eren felt more understood. 

Carla, on the other hand, wished for Eren’s immediate safety and cared about him living a quiet life. But that also means she couldn’t understand his concerns, and the type 6 interprets that demeanor as vulnerability — his mother is more exposed to the threat. If the type 6 is a room where nobody is vigilant, the only option they see is to step up and become hypervigilant.

This relation to an authority is very specific for the type 6 as they search for people and systems in whom to rely on. Since the Garrison aren’t the most reliable soldiers around, Eren turns to the Survey Corps. That section of the military consists of the rebels, those who want to explore the unknown, understand the titans and figure out the best way to fight the enemy. The SC wants to be free, so they become Eren’s next “authority figure”. 

Riso also says that the type 6 in Level 6 has a more aggressive stance and wants to prove to others that he isn’t indecisive and can’t be pushed around. 

“They blame and berate whatever threatens them. They become rebellious… and are desperate to latch onto a position or stance that will make them feel stronger and dispel their feelings of inferiority.”

The type 6 feels inferior because they feel lost inside. Eren, too, knows that the threat lurking behind those walls is much bigger than him and a single human doesn’t stand a chance. And he berates people around him for not seeing what he sees, or for disrespecting his “heroes”.

Eren will be back to Level 6 later, embodying other aspects of it, but let’s talk about the moment he joins the army. 

At this point, Eren reaches the stable position he has been eager for. He is part of a group and working towards his goals, he feels more confident because he’s preparing for the next attack. He has climbed to Level 4:

“The security which groups and institutions provide far exceeds the strength of any individual members...”

As we know, Eren sees his mission to eradicate all titans also as a social responsibility. The type 6 can easily fall into “us versus them” mentality where they are putting effort into something and will trust only the people who understand the importance of it. Eren’s bickering with Jean, as well as his admiration for Reiner starts from there. 

“And even within their own group, average Sixes make it their business to find out who is pulling the weight and who is not... If others are not loyal or committed, it not only makes them angry, it threatens them.”

Eren talks over and over about how he’s going to join the suicide squad, to the point people start making fun of him. But he is testing everyone’s commitment to the cause of “fighting titans” and he finds people like Jean, who only really want their safe life, as well as Reiner, who is dedicated and understands him immediately. Reiner becomes his new “authority figure”: whenever Eren’s failing, Reiner is there to understand him, to offer help and to remind him of why he’s there.

“The loyalty of average Sixes for the people with whom they have identified is almost without bounds. They find it extremely difficult to break their emotional bonds, even should they desire to do so… Their love may, in time, turn to hatred but never to indifference.”

That one speaks for itself. It’s exactly how Eren felt upon RBA’s betrayal. He’s in total denial about Annie, while for Reiner/Berthold all he has left is rage. 

Choosing who to trust is part of the type 6 identity. All of their beliefs, all their inner world is shaken if they are betrayed, because the network they build is how they find a safe space for themselves in the world and how they orient themselves. Annie was Eren’s parameter of fighter, Reiner was Eren’s parameter of leadership. The first backstab is too hard for him to process, we see it all unfold. He can’t admit she’s a traitor, and he doesn’t even have the will to transform and fight her. 

The second one, however, is embraced somewhat faster and he’s even able to contain himself and play along. But it doesn’t change how deeply it affected him and how vengeful he gets. Years later, that hatred would dissipate, but never to indifference — Eren still feels a need for some closure between them. 

I got ahead of myself on the timeline, so I’m going to rewind to the moment Eren joins the Survey Corps, which is his childhood dream. Erwin is his main authority figure now and you see that, even though Erwin locked him up, he trusts the guy. As Don Riso explains, the type 6 on Level 4 plays by the rules of his group because he strongly believes in those rules and they bring comfort to their minds. In reality, the SC doesn’t really know what they’re doing. Erwin himself doesn’t know how he’s gonna cross the walls and find out the truth. But Eren is devoted to them. Their cause is his cause and he knows how hard it is but what matters is they’re trying. Besides, they embrace him. They want to reach the basement and want to defend him on the court and want to investigate/use his titan power. Thus, for Eren, the SC is the most solid and welcoming place to be. He’ll do whatever they want from him. 

However, Eren was about to find out that things were far from glorious out there. Although the Survey Corps work under strict “plans” that soldiers are supposed to follow blindly, Eren can’t just watch people being sacrificed to protect him. Especially when he has enough power to act in a more significant way than those individual humans. But how much control does he have over his own power? Eren can’t answer that, and he feels immensely conflicted as soldiers continue to drop dead. 

In that moment, Levi could’ve forced him to follow his orders, and perhaps that would’ve eased his mind when he chose not to transform. But the captain is a different kind of leader than Erwin, and he challenges Eren instead:

And I really appreciate how fitting that is to the type 6 conflit. It’s very difficult for them to accept it, sometimes there simply isn’t a clear path, sometimes it is okay to trust yourself and act on your own. But this is what Eren’s thinking:

That didn’t turn out very well, did it? At the end of the expedition, Eren is forced to admit that the SC don’t have all the answers and that all his power and training can’t always keep everyone safe. He’s once again reminded of that after activating the Coordinate — not even the power to control titans can avoid sacrifices.

Ideally, the type 6 can only reach the safety they seek once they allow themselves to move in the chaos with the courage to face it step by step, instead of predicting it. This may sound easy for others but not for them, especially if they are inserted in a reality where the cost of a mistake is lives.  

So we get to the Uprising arc. It starts with the Survey Corps planning the retake of Wall Maria while they put Eren through hardening experiments. Time is not on their side and Eren’s determined to go beyond his limits during the tests. 

“They consequently try to further strengthen their ‘social security’ systems by working harder to be accepted and approved by their allies and authorities… Others wonder if they resent the workloads and pressures they seem to be under, yet Sixes seem eager to fulfill their obligations and duties...”

Eren’s entire world would fall apart again once he’s kidnapped by Rod Reiss and discovers the truth of his father’s sin. Like I said earlier, Grisha was one of Eren’s authority figures, and even though he was absent, the basement key and the promised truth kept son and father connected. Wherever Grisha was, Eren could still count on the answers he’d left behind. 

That is, until he is hit by a trainwreck of a revelation that his father killed an entire family and sacrificed himself to pass on the titans to him. Eren’s left completely lost, he no longer knows what to think of himself, of the world, of his father.

He falls from Level 4 to Level 7:

“Sixes become trapped in an unhealthy pattern of self-disparagement and massive insecurity which reinforces feelings of inferiority and worthlessness, a marked deterioration from the indecision and evasiveness we saw [before].”

This shift to a much more confused and self-loathing state doesn’t last long because Eren has his friend’s support for now. Historia chooses to see his worth and let him live. Levi once again challenges him to make his own decision, and Eren manages to save the day.

As Eren becomes aware of those destructive feelings, he tries to get rid of them by “fighting” himself, in an attempt to put himself back up.

He realizes he isn’t alone and he doesn’t have to do everything on his own, people around him are also strong enough to stand up for themselves. That helps him return to a more average stage and it could have been the beginning of his growth... 

Well, if only life wouldn’t have a surprise waiting for him at every corner. 

I hope you’re being able to follow and understand that we all have ups and downs in life. The levels of development represent exactly that, so it is common to find yourself in the same stage in different periods of your life. Nevertheless, after Eren learns the truth about the world and sees his future memories, it all goes downhill for him, no turning back anymore.  

Here is what Riso comments on the ambivalence of the type 6 on Level 5:

“Sixes begin to follow the narrow path between the expectations of their allies and authorities and their need to resist having any further demands placed on them.”

Eren is overwhelmed by the view of the outside world. He has experienced his father’s memories first hand and it’s nothing like what he expected. No one around him has the same perspective. A lot of self-awareness and self-doubt emerge from the future memories he saw through Historia. Riso explains that on Level 5 the person starts to become more worried about how their allies feel about them. 

“They become skeptical of new views and ideas, feeling that they have already put a lot of effort into understanding the perspectives and approaches they already know.”

Eren went from “I HATE TITANS ALL TITANS ARE MY ENEMIES DESTROY ‘EM ALL” to “titans are my people and they haven’t chosen this horrible outcome”. And that’s A LOT to process when you wrapped your life around that initial idea. But things are changing even faster, and his friends are talking about how the enemy could be reached out too. This thought needs to coexist in Eren with the clear image he has of the enemy, one that only he has accessed. Add to that how Eren was kept away from the Marleyan prisoners as Paradis also feared some kind of betrayal. As long as there’s people out there against them, he can’t so easily rest. 

Who knows at what point Eren returns to Level 6. The time skip is covered very loosely. But probably when he is feeling so lost that he actually comes to Historia to vent. 

“As in other types, to be functioning in this Level or lower usually indicates that there were extremely dysfunctional elements in the child’s environment.”

Self-explanatory. It’s even hard to talk about Level 6 because it is a point where Sixes start to overthink threats that aren’t that big, but in Eren’s case, the threat is 100% REAL and there’s a world isolating them and wishing for his people to die and throwing gigantic creatures at them. No big deal at all.

Eren turns to the people who actually understand the urgency he feels. Floch is eager to follow him, while Zeke and Yelena have an actual plan. Eren says he’s acting out of his own decisions, and he sure is, but he has also left it in Zeke’s hands to set the course. At this point, it no longer is a positive thing for the type 6 to have reassurance instead of a grounding support, it’ll only leave them trapped in the current mentality. 

What would be more appropriate would be a balance between rejection…

…and full acceptance.  

(By the way, I can’t even know where Historia stands, since she let him do his thing, but I’m still using her here because of how immediate her reaction was, which could lead Eren to think he can’t risk telling anyone else. Unhealthy Sixes are just that paranoid.)

Zeke could have been Eren’s new “authority figure“ if their goals were the same. But more and more the only thing Eren is starting to rely on are the future memories.

Riso talks about how a violent environment would lead to violent actions and “they end up using the same aggressive tactics on others”. And I can draw a parallel with how Eren has been facing titans for so long and watched them take people from him, that he just feels aggression arise whenever he thinks of all the injustice he has witnessed. Same would happen later on, when he sees Ymir’s memories and finally decides to unleash this pain on the world.

“It’s hard for Sixes to work for something. Instead, their energies are galvanized by being against people and things.”

Despite being highly conflicted and problematic, Eren so far has waited. It’s too hard at this point to fully engage with those dreams, but he has watched things unfold and allowed the Survey Corps to do their stuff and try to contact the outside world. On Level 7, the type 6 is just going through the day with little hope. When the SC reaches Marley and Eren meets the boy of his memories, he can no longer escape from facing himself.

“Tearful and obsequious, they are disgusted with themselves for not having been tough enough to stand on their own two feet, to defend themselves, to be independent.”

Not only Eren, but Paradis as a whole, have been unable to be independent in a much bigger world, or this is how he sees it after Kyiomi monopolizes the resources and the pro-Eldians group rejects the island. Finally, Eren recognizes in himself the person who would be capable of trampling the kid he currently wants to save, and that leaves him disgusted.   

“They do not necessarily deceive others maliciously, but to escape punishment or abandonment. They believe they may be able to repair the damage they have caused...”

What Riso is saying here is that the type 6 feel the need to hide (themselves) so their loved ones won’t abandon them. And again, in Eren’s case, he has a damn good reason to think his loved ones might not be super happy if he said he was going to destroy the whole world. Let’s not forget they are the people who counted on him to save the world this whole time, and he is the person several people have been sacrificed for. 

All this pressure has brought him this low, but Eren reaches rock bottom when he allows himself to admit he wished for it all to be destroyed. Now, he can no longer face his family (as he would tell Falco) and he has little faith in himself. 

Again, Eren’s paranoias aren’t so far from reality because there is, indeed, a world against them, and that keeps feeding into his anxiety. Paradis’s progress is little and the future is uncertain. When the type 6 reaches Level 9, they can no longer get out of this spiral. They know it’s only a matter of time until the threat comes to them. So they call the threat upon themselves.

Eren allowed himself to go as far as understanding his enemies and accepting that they’re the same, but with the declaration of war, he can’t wait anymore.

I already told you the reason: the type 6 needs to be able to predict. That’s the very core of their beings, their minds seek to control events. Striking first is their final attempt to make sure they won’t be taken by surprise. Ultimately, they are lost and desperate to find support again. Here’s what Riso says about the type 6 on Level 9:

“They may drop out, abasing themselves as vagrants and living in skid row conditions, thus allowing their health and minds to deteriorate to the point of no return.”

It almost feels like Isayama has read this book, I swear to God. Yeah, that’s word by word what Eren does. He goes to enemy territory, injures himself and throws himself in war. Despite resisting for so long to a new perspective of his enemies, Eren allows himself to see them with his own eyes. All because he’s desperate to understand his enemy, desperate to understand himself (and what would lead to his decision) and desperate to run away from his friends. He is ashamed of choosing those future memories as his new authority figure, get it? They are the most certain thing in his life now. As much as he waited and as much as the SC tried, they don’t have any guaranteed future and it’s just too hard for the type 6, especially unhealthy Sixes, to wait. It’s impossible. 

Remember I said that Sixes want to feel understood? Well, I think Eren feels understood, to some degree, when he’s among those broken soldiers. They are relatable, more than anyone else. 

“Neurotic Sixes bring disaster of some sort upon themselves not to end their relationship with authority figures, but to reestablish a protective one. [...] It is also important to notice that neurotic Sixes are masochist not because they take pleasure in suffering as such, but because they hope their suffering will bring someone to their side who’ll save them… as if to say, ‘Punish me, because I’ve been bad. Then you can love me again.’”

In the mind of the unhealthy type 6, if he can’t find the answers, he can’t be there for his allies. If he fails his allies, he doesn’t deserve their support. But even when he feels he doesn’t deserve it and feels they won’t forgive him, he desperately needs it — the type 6 doesn’t know how to live without support. He is completely aware of his cowardice, he may unleash his despair in innocent people, he seeks punishment for his behavior and hopes for someone to end his pain.

“Unhealthy Sixes are self-defeating persons who are their worst enemies. If they persist in their masochist behavior, neurotic Sixes will drive away everyone on whom they depend. They will be abandoned and alone, the very things they most fear.”

Eren pushed everyone away, but deep down he waited for them to come to his rescue. He knew he was a lost cause, but still couldn’t let go of what he saw as a compromise, a duty to them. His completely cruel and extreme actions are, in enneagram terms, his way to not leave his allies adrift. But aren’t all his actions for his own freedom? I don’t think so, not entirely. There’s a reason the type 6 has been named “the loyalist” — they always, always see themselves as part of a group. And in the end, he saw himself in Ymir, someone who was trapped and waiting to be rescued, understood. Don Riso says the worst part of coming this low is how much Sixes hurt others while they hurt themselves, both because they want to harm everyone who doesn’t understand and to show people the worst in themselves; they want to punish and be punished at same the time.

That is what I wanted to break down — Eren’s inner process. Yes, the type 6 is an ambivalent, contradicting personality type, precisely because that’s how they feel inside. Other enneagram types don’t escape from their own personal conflicts, that’s also important to point out. The enneagram does not define integrity, people capable of causing great harm exist in all types and no one from type 6 is fated to destroying the world — just in case that isn’t obvious. 

This post is heavy, I know. One of the things I love about SNK are the emotions it evokes and how human characters are. I’m so thankful to have followed Eren’s fascinating journey. He has never hit me as a one-dimensional character as some people claim. To me, Eren is not a chad, he’s not a monster, either. He’s just human. 

I’m thankful for this fandom as well. We’re a total mess but the monthly wait would’ve killed me without the crazy theories and the heated discussions.  

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

'Ello! Same user here! I was wondering if you could make a part 2 to the story of my last request, one where the reader is confronted by her ex-friends at an event and Albert goes off on them how far she's coming compared to them along the reader getting the last laugh before Albert gets rid of the ex for good, if you don't mind!

Ofc I don’t mind. Sweet revenge is coming up next 😈. Anyways, i hope you’ll enjoy!

You are not alone Part 2 (Wesker x F!Reader)

•Link to Part 1

Warnings: none.

Wesker received an invitation to an event. The host was a man who introduced him to Miss Gionne and if it wasn’t for this big favour, Wesker wouldn’t go. In fact, he thought about getting some time off from his work since he felt overwhelmed with the incredible amount of tasks he needed to complete in order to finish Uroborus project. If this succeeded, it would be his biggest achievement in life, not to mention a reminder that he broke free from his chains and escaped his abuser. However, every brilliant mind needs a break from the activities to avoid burnout. 

He talked with his lover about the party and she was excited to go with him. It would be the first time when they exposed their relationship publicly so she was nervous  because Wesker is not an ordinary man, in contrary, his name is well known and people tremble when they hear it. Her image also impacted his.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to go?” Wesker noticed she was lost in her own thought. 

“Yeah, but, I don’t think I fit. I’m not from your world. I’m just a normal virologist who graduated a normal college.” 

Wesker remained silent for a second then he bursted out in laugh. 

“Dear, you’re perfect the way you are. I don’t care about these social constructs, and if someone has something to say about your appearance I’ll make sure it will be the last thing they say.” He put his big thumb to his neck and drew a line. “Come on get dressed.” Before leaving the room he stoped in the doorframe and smirked.  “I won’t tolerate delays.” 

That being said, she had little time to prepare. These aristocrats must a lot of money to throw parties like this out of the blue. Fortunately she found a black gown without sleeves with an open back and trail which fit her body well, but it missed something. She kept searching until she found a golden snake accessory that can be wear on her back. It was beautiful and it would cover her whole exposed back. She remembered her ex saying that she doesn’t have a proper sense of style to wear that accessory but she got it anyway. Tonight she’s going to wear it and she’s going to be confident in her own skin. 

The penthouse looked really expensive even if it was very crowded and you could barely see any furniture. However, when they arrive, with all the music and noise that was, everyone noticed them and they didn’t put any effort to hide the fact that they were starring at you. Their eyes were piercing your soul, unveiling any secret and details about you, stomping in into your life and violating your space. They were eating you alive. 

The party followed its natural course after that. She recognised a few big names there, but they couldn’t compare to Albert. The only man who wore sunglasses indoor was the main star of the night, not like he didn’t enjoy it. He didn’t let go of her hand the whole night, a sign of him being proud to have such a woman beside him and probably he fell her being nervous. He introduced her to everyone he met and only spoke good words about her, how she help him a lot in his research and how fast she proved her worth to the company. The conversations were short as many people wanted to talk with him. She wondered how could he possibly memorise so many faces and names. 

There was a group of people however who refused to take their eyes from you, which seemed pretty familiar to you for a reason. Then it hit her, they were a part form her life she tried to forget, that’s why she didn’t recognise them. She turned her head to Albert and like he was reading minds he glanced at the group. He researched her past life and those people look like the ones from the files. Her ex group of friends were in the same field as her, of course they would be there.  He leaned to her ear. 

“You’ve come far since then.” And placed a kiss on her forehead. He then placed a hand on her back and lead her to the other group of people introducing her in the same manner. 

Of course her ex friends were of problematic nature. They followed her, undecided whether to start a conversation or not. She changed so much it was unbelievable. 

Wesker went to talk in private with a woman. She seemed in her late 50s and she wear a simple white cocktail dress. The older woman gave her a warm smile before grabbing Wesker’s arm and leaving to talk. As soon as she was alone the problematic group decided to act. Shyly, one of her ex friends tapped her shoulder. 

“Y/N?” 

She turned around to meet their gaze. They remained the same and now she was able to see how much she truly evolved. 

They engaged in an awfully long and boring dialogue in which they discussed about their lives. After they move on to compliment her dress, all of them asking about the snake from her back. She was right, none of them stepped higher from where she left them, nor in their career or mentally. 

“How’s the new job? It is more profitable than the previous one? Who’s that man you’re with, do you know him?” They were so comfortable asking those questions like they were still friends, but the only difference is that now she sees strangers, strangers who are trying to enter her private life. She responded monosyllabically

One of them introduced the topic they’ve all been wanting so much. 

“Have you spoke with, you know?” 

“No, he tried to contact me but I never answered back.” She stated coldly. 

“We’re sorry we didn’t believe you.” Said another voice from the group. “We’re realised lately how bad he was. He seemed so sweet it was hard for us to see the truth. Hope we can keep in contact.” 

She couldn’t believe it how easily they approached her after all that happened. How they blamed her for being too sensitive, calling her names and ignored her whenever she needed support. She was trying so hard to hold her tears, not because she was sad, but angry. When she felt like she couldn’t take it anymore she felt a hand caressing her back. 

“Is there any problem?” 

The group was greeted by a tall man who didn’t seem to be in a mood for talking.

“N-no we were just...”

“I suggest you should get used to the idea of being rejected or else things will get ugly” he lowered his glasses on the bridge of his nose, revealing his bright red eyes. The group ran away in fear and got lost in the crowd.

After a while the people started to leave and the place was more clear. What was probably once a decent place to live turned into a mess, with broken glasses laying on the floor, flipped alcohol bottles and confetti. Wesker grabbed her hand and guided her outside saying he needs some air. 

“Thanks for helping me out there. It was satisfying seeing them running away in fear.”

“I told you I’ll be there for you. I won’t let anyone stain your pride.”

“Cheers” they both clinked their champagne glasses. 

Wesker put the glass aside and searched something in his coat’s jacket. 

“I know you for a while now” he said as he seemed to find what he was searching for. “And I reached the conclusion that you’re everything I was looking for in a partner. You’re reliable, understanding and you don’t want me for my status like these idiots, you want me for who I am. You’re able to see behind these materialistic gains.” 

He removed his sunglasses and now he was watching her with his amber eyes. He dropped on his knees while pulling the case of an engagement ring. When he opened the case she saw a gold ring with three stones, one big in the middle with two small beside it. It was the most beautiful ring she ever seen. The stones seemed to be pink diamonds.  

“Will you marry me?” 

Without hesitation she said yes. Wesker raised on his feet and they both engaged into a kiss. Her new start looks promising. 

[iamslikesjatp]

That impenetrable coldness

Based on something i stuck in the tags of @juliesghostlyhimbos post. Enjoy

Alex sat in the living room, his maths notebook perched on the little coffee table in front of him as his mothers radio played from the kitchen. He sped through his work, determined to finish it before he headed to Luke’s to hang out with him and Reggie for the evening.

He didn’t respond as he heard the front door creak, his father wasn’t a huge man, but he always seemed to push the door, just hard enough to make it squeal whilst opening in a way that Alex never did. His father slipped off his coat and walked in to the living room, smiling at his son and clapping him on the shoulder in greeting- large hands worn from bowling and baseball together warm through his hoodie.  “Hi, love I’m home, sorry I’m late,” he called as he took a seat on the large couch beside Alex.

“And why are you late?” His mother questioned as she came to rest in the doorway. She placed her hand on Alex’s head as she spoke. Alex’s mothers hands were gentle, she spent her time cooking and crafting- very typical housewife jobs, but she told Alex one day when he was little “They say you can be anything in the world, and they’re right dear. I was very happy being your mum.” She had pet his hair for as long as Alex could remember- calling him her little cat from when Alex used to lean in to her side.

“Oh, there was an event down town, some L G B nonsense- you know those queers, always in the way of decent society,” His dad spoke with an easy smile, as if there where nothing out of the ordinary. His mum didn't say anything back, but she rolled her eyes softly at her husbands antics as she moved to the brown upright chair in the corner to pick up her cross stich.

It was then that his dad turned to him with a smile and a “So kid, what are you up to tonight?”

Alex moved on, he knew when to pick his fights, “I’m just finishing up this homework and then heading over to Luke's for the night. I’ll be home by 11 tomorrow, I know I said I’d walk the dog whilst you're at your bowling meet”

-

“You had a dog?”

“Yeah Will, I had a dog, she died not long after that though”

“oh,”

“yeah”

-

His father seemed pleased enough with his answer, it wasn’t to different from Alex’s usual weekend plans. “Well, I hope you don’t get stuck out there with them,”

“I'll try.” Alex thought he might actually take the long way to Luke’s, or maybe go collect his boys before checking out whatever event was being held. But his father didn’t need to know that.

“Hey kid, promise me you never be one of them, right. I know they sometimes let them into wherever you kids and your band go, the clubs and whatnot,” His dad chuckled, as if this was just a simple joke- something he can laugh along with like any other day. But it stung- his dad didn’t know he was talking about him. But it hurt anyway and Alex felt a little bit like he was going to throw up.

“No can do, dad,” Alex tried to joke- he hoped that if he didn’t make a big deal of it then his parent wouldn’t make a big deal of it.

“What?” The colour had seemed to drain from his dads face. 

“Don’t mumble Alex” came from his mother at the same time “Don’t Joke Alex,” came from his father.

“I’m not joking. I can’t promise not to be one of those queers  because I already am one,” he said, trying to maintain his light façade.

His mother was looking at the pair now, fully involved in their conversation. 

“I can’t believe this.” His mother looked as if someone has just spilled wine on her prized cushions. Like, some grand irreparable damage had been done to something she cherished. His father stood and moved to his wife- they seemed to share a silent conversation between the two of them. His dad looked up at him, “No you are not.”

 Now Alex really felt like he was going to throw up. His couldn’t believe what seemed to be happening. His parents had never been loud, or angry. Never violent- they’d never thrown slurs at people on the street. He thought... well he didn’t know what he thought. That once it was their son, their precious baby boy, that they would change their mind. Instead, Alex’s dad looked like someone had just dealt him a death sentence.

“Alexander, you will never say that again. You will never say that to anyone. Not anyone at school, not anyone at church. Do you understand me?” His mother spoke slowly, like she was talking to a toddler who might mess up her carpet.

“I understand.”

Alex turned his face away, stood up and walked up the stairs. He placed his clothes in his duffle bag, he placed his school books in his backpack. As he walked back downstairs and past the  living room he watched as his parent hugged- almost as if they were in mourning. 

“I’m going now,” Alex’s voice wavered as he opened the door. 

He didn’t know, fifteen minutes ago, that it would be the last time his mother would ever stroke his hair.

And then he died.

-

Julie looked like she was about to cry herself, as Alex told the story his brothers already knew. 

 Willie, his precious Willie, just pulled Alex down until he was lying on the floor next to him- his head atop Willies ripped jean shorts. Willies fingers were soft and his rings caught as he gently began to run his hands through Alex’s hair. 

“But it’s okay, I have dumbass and dumbasser.” 

Said dumbass’s fist bumped- they knew that Alex wouldn’t like them piling in on his sadness after such a story. “And I have you Julie, I never had a sister,”

“And,” Alex continued, rolling over so he was looking directly up at Willie. Willies long hair hung around him in a curtain, protecting him from his past. “I’ve got you.” Willie beamed and ran his thumb over Alex’s cheek, “So, I’ve got my fill of family”.

“And of hugs!” Reggie called from the couch, where his legs entirely on top of Luke’s

“And hugs Reg, Lots of hugs,” 

[shera-dnd]

New chapter is up (on time this time) and things start getting a little gay

alternative title for this chapter was I Name Thee Simp, but I feel like that applies better to the chapter I’m currently writing

as usual, AO3 link above and read more link bello. Hope y’all enjoy the read.

There was something different to Weiss. Even fully armored as she was, it was easy to tell that something had changed in the way she held herself. The way she shadowed Ilia through the festival grounds. For the past couple of days it was if the cloud of resignation that hung over Weiss’s mood had slowly dissipated and was promptly replaced by… something else.

Perhaps her little chats with Belladonna had been improving her mood. The two of them seemed to be getting along far more amicably since Weiss’s little promise. Ilia on the other hand made no effort to hide how bitter she was that her former companion now found such easy company with a human. That she would choose a human over Ilia.

No. It didn’t matter what had happened to the Schnee and it didn’t matter who Belladonna chose to associate with. She was here to enjoy herself, and as long as those fools stuck to their part of the deal, she would not waste precious thought on them.

So she shook those thoughts away and moved on with her day. She would simply focus on enjoying her time at the festival and not worry herself with this. There were so many people to meet, food to eat, stories to listen to, and she simply had no time to waste on those things.

Not when she could just enjoy her day.

“Hey!” An angry voice called and Ilia did her best to ignore it, “stop right there!”

Ilia sighed and turned to face the shouting man. It was some stuck up little lordling, old enough to understand he had power, but not enough to use it with any sense. Two men in full knight’s regalia flanked him on each side, all three of them wearing heraldry of House Marigold.

“Lord Marigold, it is an honor to make your acquaintance,” Ilia greeted with false joy.

“I’m sure it is,” he replied and Ilia weighed the pros and cons of making this man disappear, “you responsible for this man’s actions?”

He gestured rudely towards Weiss, who didn’t even give the courtesy to look back at him. Good.

“They are my bodyguard,” she informed him, “though what they do with their free time is none of my business.”

“Well it’s certainly my business,” he countered, “your bodyguard is a cheat and a liar!”

Ilia glanced at Weiss to see how she would react to have her honor questioned like that. The woman seemed utterly unamused, as if the Marigold boy was just a particularly loud bug.

“And why is it you make these accusations?” She asked, feigning ignorance.

“Have you not watched the tournament?” He asked, “no faceless mercenary could face the best House Marigold has to offer and emerge victorious were they not a lying cheat!”

“If those bumbling oafs are the best your house has to offer, perhaps you would have had better luck hiring lying cheats,” she offered, with the same polite smile she had kept throughout this conversation.

To that the knights that flanked him stirred. Both stepped forward standing annoyingly close to Weiss and Ilia. She couldn’t help but be aware of how much iron was being carried around her.

“What did you just call us?” The knight asked and Ilia immediately recognized him. His loud and obnoxious voice was unmistakable.

“Bumbling oaf,” she repeated, “or do you have a better term for someone who got so thoroughly humiliated, they chose to lie to their lord over admitting defeat?”

“Listen here,” the Marigold boy interjected, “I will not have my men’s honesty questioned by some southern whor--”

Weiss’s blade was at his neck before the last sound could escape his mouth. Both of his men looked baffled, fully aware that had Ilia wished so, their lord would have died before they could draw their weapons. It was intensely satisfying, even if it was probably the last thing Ilia would get to see before being executed.

“What is the meaning of this?” A familiar voice called.

From behind his two knights approached Belladonna, accompanied by Lady Polendina. The two men seemed relieved to see their fellow knights. They were certainly in for a terrible surprise.

“Ah, it is good to see you here, Lady Polendina,” the Marigold boy greeted, though he hesitated to move from his position, “now please arrest this woman. She has sicced her bodyguard on me like a hound.”

Penny seemed to ignore his words as she recognized the people threatening to murder him.

“Salutations, Lady Ilia,” she greeted, as brightly as ever, “how have you been enjoying the festival?”

“It’s been wonderful, Lady Polendina” Ilia greeted, leaving the men utterly confused, “though some of the attendants can be a bit overbearing at times.”

“I see our companion hasn’t taken kindly to their behavior,” Belladonna commented, nodding towards Weiss’s unmoving blade.

“What!?” The Marigold’s voice cracked as he turned ever so slightly to look at who he assumed would be his backup, “they have drawn on a Lord of Atlas, they should be arrested, and executed.”

“Oh? Has your father passed away?” Penny asked, with seemingly genuine worry, “my condolences.”

“What? No,” he replied, confused, “my father is well.”

“Oh, then they haven’t drawn on a Lord of Atlas,” she said, matter of factly,  “though they’d need good reason to be threatening one of its citizens.”

“My bodyguard may have gotten a little overzealous,” Ilia explained, “but they only intended to defend my honor.”

“A little overzealous!?” the Marigold exclaimed.

“You did call me a ‘southern whore’ in front of them,” she replied. Weiss’s grip on the sword tightened as the insult was repeated.

“Lord Henry Marigold!” Lady Polendina began, “this festival is about celebrating peace with the nations of Remnant! You will not embarrass our kingdom by acting like this!”

“She was the one defending the honorless cheat who humiliated my men!”

“I fought them myself in that tournament, and I can assure you they fought with the honor and skill befit of a knight,” Belladonna countered.

“Me and your good father will be having a conversation about this later,” Penny threatened, “now be gone.”

With that all three of the men ran back from whence they came, leaving behind the three knights, and a very stunned Ilia.

Penny giggled as she watched them run, “my apologies. I believe Lady Schnee might have rubbed off on me more than I expected.”

“No need to apologize,” Ilia assured her, “I’m grateful you showed up when you did.”

“What a lovely coincidence that me and Lady Blake were passing by,” Penny beamed as bright as the sun, “we were on our way to get ourselves some food, in fact. Would you two like to join us?”

“Of course they would,” Belladonna answered, “trust me on this. You do not know good food until you’ve had fish prepared by a mistrali chef.”

Ilia had no doubts as to why Belladonna was so fond of that fish dish, but she couldn’t exactly say that out loud, instead what she did say was, “very well. At least let me pay for your meals to repay you for this. I insist.”

It took her a while, but they eventually accepted her generosity. She hadn’t stolen all this money not to spend it, and it genuinely was the least she could do.

As they began making their way through the crowd, Weiss tapped on Ilia’s shoulder - making sure to only touch the dress so as to not accidentally burn her - to ask her to stay a little further behind so they could talk.

“Are you well?” She whispered.

“I certainly almost wasn’t,” she hissed, “what was that about?”

Weiss seemed to think for a moment, as if even she wasn’t sure what her burst of violence was about.

“I would be no knight, were I to let my lady’s name be insulted like that,” was her eventual answer.

It was...sweet. Impossibly stupid, and barely a good excuse for putting them at risk like that, but it was sweet. It had been far too long since anyone stood up for Ilia, even if this time it was out of some misguided sense of duty.

As detestable as she found the idea, Ilia couldn’t help but feel like she owed the Schnee some kindness after all that.

“You’re a fool,” she declared, sure that Weiss was ready to leave it at that, but Ilia wasn’t quite done, “but I’m grateful.”

She took off the shawl she wore over her dress and handed it over to her companion, her magic weaving itself into it like an extra layer of unseen cloth.

“Take it,” she commanded and her knight did as ordered, “I put a glamour on it. As long as you hold it your face, and voice, will be that of an ordinary woman, and no human will know your true nature.”

Weiss gently draped it over her shoulders, her hands slowly reached for her helmet, hesitated for a moment. Ilia knew she was asking for a lot of trust from the Schnee, but her words were true, and her gift genuine, if bedrudging.

Eventually Weiss chose to trust her and carefully took off her helmet. To everyone else she was just another plain face in the crowd, a nondescript woman who no one would look twice at. But Ilia could see through her own handiwork with ease.

The woman may not have looked any different, but her expression held far more emotion than Ilia had ever seen it hold before. Not even her first bout of rage matched the sheer gratefulness in those eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered back, before returning to march behind their companions.

Ilia blinked a few times as she stared after her, not fully understanding what had just happened.

Gods, that Schnee was one strange woman.

[shinydelirium]

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 12 (Kiro) Part 4 [Confession of the Stars] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

For previous translations of Season 2 Chapter 12: Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3

Enjoy~

[Confession of the Stars]

Even so, I still didn’t see Kiro’s face. The hospital still expressed his unwillingness to see anyone.

But nonetheless, it was fine for me to text him. I want him to know that he is not alone.

As long as he wants, I will appear in front of him immediately.

In the past two days, Kiro has asked Savin to bring his belongings to him from time to time and sometimes buy a few books.

After entrusting a lawyer to submit my alibi for me, I no longer need to go to the Task Force for regular reports.

However, the previous hospital hostage incident triggered more and more group skirmishes and discussions on the Internet continued on.

Everyone wants become the one who wins the right to speak. On the other hand, the hostile takeover incident of LFG, which had been raging before, was gradually suppressed.

There hasn’t been much movement on LFG’s side, so the problem probably isn’t that serious. I also successfully sent out the USB flash drive according to Gavin’s instructions.

Many departments of the company are asking whether or not to follow the hot topics to produce a show. I was so busy that I could only text Kiro at night.

Such days lasted for more than a week.

After nine o’clock in the evening, I had just entered the house, dragging my weary body when Kiro called.

Kiro: ….Miss Chips?

His voice was a little cautious, wary, and even quivering.

MC: What’s wrong?

Kiro let out a little laugh from the other end.

I’ve been so out of it lately. It’s been a very long time since I heard him laugh so enthusiastically.

Kiro: MC, say my name.

MC: Kiro, are you okay? Why are you so happy?

He didn’t answer but just laughed happily.

Kiro: What are you up to?

MC: Of course, I just got home from a rough day at work. ***Changed some wording***

Kiro: Thanks for all the hard work, Miss Chips.

I was lying on the sofa and complaining to Kiro about recent events. He listened carefully, and from time to time he also grumbled about his troubles to me.

This moment gave me a certain illusion, as if nothing was wrong.

The next day I heard that Kiro asked Savin to bring his guitar.

At the same time, the Task Force came forward and started to take control of the chaotic situation reasonably and accurately.

I checked Weibo and found that more and more people are no longer emotionally angry, but deeper in discussion about the relationship between Evol and ordinary people.

Along with the nice weather, I think a lot of things are heading in a good direction little by little.

I had a rare chance to get off of work early today. After thinking about it, I went and bought Kiro’s favorite canelé and arrived at the door of his ward.

MC: It would be wonderful if I could see him today…

While I muttered this, I stretched out my hand to knock on the door.

Before I could, an overly harsh and messy guitar chord came to my ears and left me frozen in place.

The crude, sharp sound felt as if it was forced out like a shout being torn from a person’s throat and the chords held some frustration within them.

It was so depressing. It was even hard to breathe.

After a profound silence, a few faint guitar notes came quietly as if crying. The voice was soft and desperate, as if it was not a note.

But a shattered dream.

I leaned on the door and listened to the broken chords, holding my breath without making a sound.

Finally, I left the snack in the nurse’s care. I told her to give it to Kiro after waiting for a bit and then left.

On the way home, a new advertisement shot by Kiro some time ago is being displayed on the large screen on the side of the road.

Passerby A: Kiro clearly announced that he’s an Evolver. Why is he still so popular?

Passerby B: Kiro is Kiro. What does that have anything to do with being an Evolver?

Passerby A: Maybe he used some special Evol to control you and made you like him so much.

Passerby B: Do you actually know him or even understand him?! Of course, there’s a reason why Kiro is so well-liked. Do you think Evol can do everything?

Passerby B: I’ll show you this collection. You’ll understand after reading it. Why hasn’t he released a new song yet….?

The girl and her companions walked away slowly and I watched their backs disappear into the night.

In this turbulent moment, there are still many people talking about him, expecting him, and waiting for him. But at this time, I don’t want to tell him this.

Stars dotted the night sky, watching the whole city tenderly and peacefully.

I took a photo of this night sky with my phone and sent it to Kiro.

I don’t know what Kiro is struggling by himself, but I hope he won’t make all his expectations become his own burdens.

There was no reply from Kiro that night.

Until 7:25 the following evening, my phone rang.

***During this next scene, the 3rd anniversary song is being played. It made the entire scene so much more emotional and touching but also sad. The BGM in this whole chapter was meticulously chosen.***

Kiro: Good evening, Miss Chips.

Kiro: How did you know that I wanted to eat canelé? When I ate it yesterday, tears were about to come out.

MC: Tears from the corners of your mouth? ***T/N: She means drooling***

Kiro: Hehe, hurry up and remove the camera you installed on me!

MC: If there really was a webcam, that would be great….by the way, how are you today? ***Woah, woah, MC!!! So you want to upgrade from sneaky pictures to sneaky videos? MY GIRL!!!***

Kiro: Of course, I’m doing well!

MC: That’s good. It seems that the retreat is working effectively.

Hearing what I said, he laughed. His voice full of energy.

But we both know that these are all tacit masks.

Kiro is too clever. He must know how weak his excuses for shutting himself up are.

So weak that he doesn’t believe them himself.

When 7:30 came around, Kiro stopped talking. Then suddenly he spoke solemnly.

Kiro: Miss Chips, I want to play some songs for you.

MC: Okay! I haven’t heard you play a song in a long time.

Gentle guitar music came slowly from the other end of the phone. I imagined Kiro playing right now and closed my eyes, feeling a little nostalgic.

Soon, one song was finished.

Kiro: Sitting on the bed and closing my eyes just now, it felt like I was in a concert.

MC: That’s not right. The audience hasn’t arrived yet and you can’t have a concert with just you.

Kiro: Then come to the special concert. A concert dedicated by Kiro himself.

Kiro: Miss Chips is the only special guest.

MC: That’s not very monotonous.

Kiro: How could it be?

Kiro: Miss Chips, are you standing by the window right now? Can you see the stars outside?

Listening to what he said, I immediately got up and went to the balcony.

The stars outside the window twinkled and hung in the night sky like little lights.

MC: I can!!!

Kiro: My favorite stage is like this starry sky.

Kiro: That was my first stage. It was not very big and crowded with people.

Kiro: That day was the same as today, a sky full of stars. There was a long passage leading to the main stage.

Kiro: Every time I stepped on a square, a star will light up under my feet.

Kiro: The audience turned on the flash from the back of their phones and the whole world seemed to be connected into a sea of stars.

Kiro: In that moment, I told myself to shine in this sea of stars and become the brightest one.

I slowly listened to him talking about his beloved stage and the brightest star in his heart.

I was on this end of the phone, looking at the starry night outside. I could feel him holding my hand and leading me towards the stage.

I saw him piously touching the places he knew and missed the most, holding the guitar and standing in the most radiant place.

His entire being seems to be shining.

Kiro: Miss Producer, would you say I’ve done it? 

MC: Of course.

MC: You did it long ago.

Kiro laughed lightly. This time the guitar music was accompanied by his singing.

His voice is so soft and sincere, like some kind of long-distance reunion. Like a farewell to something.

After a dozen songs were sung one after another, Kiro’s voice was already a little hoarse.

MC: ….Since it’s a concert, can I still have an encore?

Kiro: (chuckles) Since it’s MC’s request, I would definitely not refuse it.

Kiro: This is the last song called “Confession of the Stars”.

***T/N: Decided to include both the EN and CN versions of the lyrics. I’m not a songwriter so the CN version is what Google Translate gave me. I really love Bian Jiang’s singing in this scene so do give it a listen 😉. Also, I love how there’s no BGM music playing while he sings because I feel like that would just take away some of the emotion.***

Kiro: (EN version) “I got a song that I wanna sing for you~ It may not be perfect, but it will have to do~”

“Dreaming your dreams and going your own way~ Sometimes you feel lonely, sometimes heartbreak…”

(CN version) “There is a song I want to sing for you~ For you who work hardest in the world~”

“On the road towards your dream~ Sometimes you feel a little lonely….”

***Now I can’t hear this song the same way ever again. WHY, KIRO!?! TELL ME WHY!?!? YOU SURE KNOW HOW TO BREAK MY HEART!!! TAT***

When I heard the familiar, leisurely melody, I was overwhelmed. The song seemed to pass through time, embracing me tenderly.

I always feel that something will end after this song. I want to try my best to hold onto it, but I can only grasp at nothingness. ***FORESHADOWING!!! Actually, this entire “concert” is.***

Eventually, I could only wait quietly for it to come to an end.

Kiro: (sighs) The concert is over. Thank you, Miss Chips.

Kiro: (In the sweetest, most tender voice): Good night.

-End of Part 4-

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 6.7}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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Another five minutes later the rain stopped altogether, and they finally continued their journey along the blue line. Eventually they also started talking again, falling into the usual easy teasing that always left them both trying their hardest not to smirk all too much. But it did definitely make the walking a lot more enjoyable. Two hours passed like that, and seeing as the tracing spell still guided them on relentlessly, they decided to take another break. Honestly, Robin couldn't remember when she had last walked for such a long time, and even if her feet didn't hurt too much, her back was starting to ache from the weight of her backpack. It wasn't made for hiking, and neither was she obviously.

"Is there any spell to make something lighter? Or at least feel less heavy?" She asked with a small groan while she rolled her shoulders to somehow loosen up the aches. It didn't do much to help.

"Not that I am aware of." He replied in a mildly concerned tone, while watching her pace up and down in front of him with a frown. "Why do you ask?"

"Nevermind." She sighed in return, and finally gave up in her attempts to reduce the soreness in her body. "Isn't anything of importance."

"If it causes you pain, it most definitely is."

"It's not pain, really. Just… my shoulders." She shrugged, then winced at the idiocracy of that move when the pain crawled through her back. "My bag's not made for hours of walking. That, or I'm just weak."

"I would assume a bit of both in this case."

"Funny." Robin rolled her eyes at him, but she also couldn't help the small smile. "Do you want me to challenge you to do better?"

"It would be an idea."

"Fine… I doubt that after two hours with my bag, you're still thinking it's my weakness causing me pain."

"We shall have to see about that."

When they finally decided to go on, Robin let him carry the bag, and she walked next to him with a smug smile on her face, upon which he merely rolled his eyes. Of course he wouldn't have admitted in a million years that he was only doing this to spare her the pain, but they both knew it perfectly well nonetheless, and that sufficed to keep the smile on Robin's face for a long time.

Two more hours down the road however, or rather the non-existent road in this case, and Robin didn't feel like smiling anymore at all. They were taking another break, a very much needed one after this torture of walking up and down hills. It was three o'clock in the afternoon by now, but they still had gotten nowhere near the end of the stupid line. Stupid tracing spell. The sight of the blue dust didn't fill Robin with excitement anymore, but with the urgent wish to cry. She was exhausted and hurting and honestly starting to doubt if the stupid spell was even working as it should. Finding the wraiths' moss shouldn't have taken this long, by far not. Perhaps they were being led nowhere. Perhaps this was all just one big, stupid mistake.

Robin didn't even look up from where she was ripping grass out of the ground in frustration when Snape sat down next to her. Honestly, she wanted to be excited about the closeness between them now, which would very well have been evitable if he'd wanted to stay away, but all she could find within herself was tiredness and despair. Thus she merely kept on sulking and occasionally blinking away angry tears.

"Did you have anything for breakfast before we left the castle this morning?" He asked after a while, and Robin frowned immediately as she turned to look at him at last.

"What kind of stupid question is that? No, I did not. There were more important things on my mind than food."

"Then perhaps you should consider having one of the snacks you tend to carry around now."

"I'm not hungry." She mumbled and looked back down to the ground, but he ignored her and placed her backpack right in her field of vision.

"You will feel better nonetheless."

"How I'm feeling is not the problem!" She groaned and rolled her eyes to herself. "The problem is that this stupid spell obviously isn't working! We have been walking for hours and where has it gotten us? For all we know, not the least bit closer to anywhere!"

"So you are giving up?"

"No! I don't know…" Robin's tone deflated in an instant, and her eyes started watering again. Damnit. "Look, I don't want to give up! I never give up, it's not something I do, but… everything just feels so terribly far away from me right now."

"It certainly would be ironic if you gave up on an obviously functioning spell after a mere few hours." He said in a calm certainty that made Robin frown again.

"Why would it be ironic? You can see that it's obviously not going anywhere!" She argued back, looking up to study his face for any hints of where he was going with this.

Instead of letting her drag him into an argument however, he returned her gaze in an almost soothing calm. "It has been years and you still haven't given up on me for a single day, even if the prospects of any result were far worse than they are now. A line of floating blue dust certainly is more than I have ever given you to warrant that faith."

Robin's heart skipped a beat, and her mind became a tangled mess of things she wanted to say and things she definitely should not say. A chaos of emotions, and a chaos of impulses. But the sincerity in his words finally became a beacon for her mind to line up for sorting.

"My refusal to give up on you has really gotten us quite far, huh?" She mused after a moment, managing a half smile even. "One could even say it's a good thing I'm too stubborn to give up."

"One could indeed."

"So… if I follow that tracing line to the other side of the country because I refuse to give up on my theory…"

"I will still be right behind you." He added in, remaining in absolute sincerity, and Robin's eyes would've almost welled up again for entirely different reasons, had he not saved her from that fate by speaking on. "However, only if you eat something now."

A sound between a sob, a laugh and a snort escaped her before she could help it, and while she blinked away the totally unnecessary moisture in her eyes, she also had to bite her lip to tone down her smile. Really, for someone so desperately serious most of the time, he was getting exceptionally good at cheering her up. With a dutiful nod, she finally dug through her backpack until she stumbled upon an apple she had snatched from dinner last night, and a packet of Twirls that had only been mildly smashed by her books. As was so often the case, her appetite came while she ate, and the apple was gone in a blink. The Twirls however she insisted on sharing, and after evading the minor protest she could convince Snape to take the second bar. Upon that it didn't take long for the sugar to find its way into her blood and the smile its way into her mind, and mere minutes later the sulk was all but forgotten.

When they went on to follow the blue line with renewed confidence on Robin's part, she was the one to carry the backpack again. Snape had of course had to admit that it was the bag rather than Robin's shoulders that was the root of the problem, and perhaps that is why he had been reluctant to let her carry it again. But seeing as it was her bag, her expedition and thus her lead, he had very little choice but to let her proceed. After all, her shoulders had rested quite enough to hurt only very little now, but she still hoped that their hike would come to an end soon.

They got exactly ten minutes of mostly easy walking before a distant thunder announced the inevitable. The sky darkened immediately, a ceiling of the deepest grey looming over their heads, and half a minute later it started pouring again as if there was no tomorrow. This time however there was no shelter, no time to take another break either, and thus they continued on despite the rain. Robin luckily had her rain jacket to keep at least her torso dry, but she had to wear her hair down in order to fit the hood over her head enough to keep the water out of her eyes, which in return meant that the part of her hair that hung over her shoulders and down over her chest was drenched within seconds. So were her jeans, which now stuck to her thighs quite uncomfortably, clinging onto her skin like wet fabric always did. Snape for his part had the umbrella spell to protect himself from the rain, but even that didn't keep him dry for all too long.

Thirty minutes into the downpour, and Robin thought she might as well be walking through an ocean. At least the line was still there, even if it was slowly getting too dark around them to see it without squinting.

"Do you think it is the rain or the sunset that causes the darkness?" Snape asked eventually, while they tried to move up the steep hill the blue line sent them over instead of leading them around it for once. The higher they ventured, the more the grassland became ridden with rocks and ragged stone, and with the constant rain and growing darkness, it soon became a nightmare to move on. Robin did so anyway, walking a good few steps ahead in stubborn determination to follow this bloody line to the end now.

"Currently? The rain." She looked back over her shoulder at Snape, who had mostly given up on his umbrella and was scowling up at the sky now instead, as if that would do anything but get water into his eyes. "It should be around four o'clock right now, which gives us another hour until sunset. Approximately. I actually looked that up, you know, because-..."

Robin was cut off in her sentence when her foot slipped on a wet rock and she lost her balance before she could find something to hold onto. With a helpless yelp, she came crashing down onto the sodden ground, hitting her entire right side on the very stones she had slipped on. For a broken second, she didn't feel anything but the shock. Then however the impact got through to her, and the burning and stabbing in her side seethed through her entire body.

"Fuck…" She hissed through clenched teeth, but tried to scramble back to her feet anyway even before the wave of pain decreased. Adrenaline did funny things to both body and mind sometimes.

"For God's sake, Robin, can you please refrain from getting hurt for once at least?!" His voice was ineffably close to her suddenly, exasperated and yet undeniably laced with deep concern, and she almost would've slipped a second time once she stood on wobbly legs again. "Are you alright?"

A few seconds passed in silence, and Robin inspected her aching side first of all before allowing herself to give an answer. Other than a little mud and water, there wasn't even a single hole or tear in her jacket nor in her jeans. Always a good sign.

"I'm fine, it's nothing." She said quickly, taking a few steps and swinging her arms a little just to make sure that statement was true. "I'm fine."

"The last time you said that, you broke down two seconds later and I had to catch you." He quirked an eyebrow at her in doubt, which however looked funny enough as drenched as he was, and Robin had to smile at both the sight and the thought that she probably didn't look any better. Even worse, likely, with the mud clinging to her now.

"I promise that I actually believe I'm fine this time." She replied, while the smile still stayed on her lips. The pain was fading already, and as long as she didn't get a punch to the side now, she'd be good. "I just slipped. It really is nothing."

He kept frowning at Robin in mild doubt even upon her words of reassurance, but they continued their way up the hill anyway, side by side from now on. Her ribs and hip kept stinging for a few minutes, but after a while even that decreased and soon enough the only reminder of her fall was the mud lingering on her clothes.

When they reached the peak of the bloody hill at last, Robin's eyes lit up immediately and her heart skipped a beat in excitement at the sight that was finally revealed in front of them. A large building of wrought ancient stones, the ruins of a long abandoned castle, nestled into the slopes of the very hill they stood upon. It wasn't quite as large as Hogwarts, but large enough to be considered a castle nonetheless. A million questions ran through Robin's mind in an instant. Who had lived here? How long has it been abandoned? Why has it been abandoned? Was it even as abandoned as it looked?

The most important thing however was that the tracing line led straight to the castle, ending in a smoky blue cloud right above the ruins. That was all Robin could see in the dark, but it was by far enough to delight her. The tracing spell had actually worked after all! With an excited smile she turned to look at Snape, blinking away the rain that finally had started running into her eyes as well, and he returned her gaze for a moment until her continued grinning made him roll his eyes with a hint of a smile of his own. They didn't need words in order to understand what the other thought; and they still didn't say a thing as they made their way down the hill, slipping and stumbling more than walking at this point.

The good thing was that their downhill track went a lot faster than the slow way up, and mere minutes later they passed through the woven front gate of the castle grounds. The very moment they stepped into the entrance hall however, the tracing line above their heads quivered and balled together into a thick cloud of blue dust, stilling for just a moment, before at last it spread into all directions with a start, vanishing between the gaps and cracks in between the stones. Robin observed the ongoings with a smile. While she hadn't quite expected the tracing spell to work just this way, it certainly made a lot of sense that it would.

The thing about wraiths' moss was, as the name already suggested, that it wasn't exactly from this world, neither dead nor alive. To be exact, it was almost entirely invisible to the human eye, not graspable with the mere hand, which is precisely why it was so incredibly rare and so very difficult to find. And that in return was the very reason why Robin had decided to prove her theory about it today.

The way the tracing spell was supposed to work (in her theory at least) was quite simple really: the dust in its specific mixture should be attracted by a substance in the wraiths' moss, which then results in the dust gathering on top of the invisible plant. Afterwards it should be beyond easy to make it both visible and touchable with a simple charm. So far Robin's theory, and as of yet, everything was going according to plan. Brilliant!

"Don't you just love it when things go my way?" Robin grinned as she pushed the hood off her head, then let the water melt from her clothes and hair with a wordless spell. Thank God they were out of the rain at last.

"For your notice, all I just heard was an invitation to mess with you. However, I will kindly refrain from doing so for once." He replied in subtle amusement, and when Robin turned to look at him with an exaggerated eye rolling, he actually let out a quiet snort in return.

"Anyway… now that we're both dry and out of the storm, we might wanna search for the dust before it's entirely too dark in here to find it." She said at last, and once Snape merely motioned for her to lead the way, she finally stepped further into the entrance hall.

It was a truly amazing place, derelict and long seized by nature as its rightfully reclaimed property. But the cold, moist masses of stone held an ineffable mystery to them, a tingle at Robin's senses she couldn't quite explain. Everything about this place was looming, lurking, waiting… yet she could not tell for what.

They made their way through the empty hall with quietly echoing steps, in a conscious effort not to disturb the ancient silence. Robin walked ahead, a mere two steps, but she was well aware of Snape's constant presence behind her, and she honestly was grateful for it. Something about this place was odd… intriguing beyond measure, but eerie and coiled up, ready to jump into their faces if they made one wrong move. The small hairs in Robin's neck stood on high alert, and her mind followed suit.

"What are you noticing?" He asked then, in a whisper only, and from the mere tone of his voice she could tell that he was no less alert than she was herself.

"The same thing you do, obviously." She breathed back, while however keeping her eyes on the hallway they were following into the unknown.

"All I notice is your concern, that is unsettling enough to me."

"I can feel them… The secrets dwelling in the halls around us, some of which are beautiful, others that will haunt you till the day you die." She said, and a shiver ran down her back at the very moment the words left her lips. Haunting… that was precisely the place one would expect wraiths' moss to grow, wasn't it?

They made their way through multiple hallways, crossing through rooms both empty and filled with long rotten furniture, but there was no trace of the familiar ultramarine that should have settled by now, and thus no trace of the moss anywhere. The castle was huge though, too large to search entirely, and Robin soon realized that they would need a strategy if they didn't want to continue blindly roaming through the sheer endless number of rooms.

A look into her journal proved to be helpful. The moss seemed to grow best in dark and moist places, protected from both light and wind, and ideally ones that still were cool enough to keep it constantly chilled. Robin read this part out to Snape, and they only needed one look at each other to know exactly where they were heading next.

The castle's dungeons proved to be exactly what the word promised, rust ridden shackles and chains on moss covered walls, endless tunnels and tiny cells. And yet the dungeons were unreasonably large for a castle of this size, digging deep into the hills and likely well beyond, a true maze of rooms and corridors. For exactly this reason, they decided to split up for the search.

Robin had seen enough horror movies in her summer breaks to know that splitting up was probably the worst thing one could do when already spooked, but she had also read enough accounts of successful field research to know that efficiency was a key to success. Thus she moved down the dark hallway alone now, wand raised with a bright lumos that unfortunately didn't light the path far enough ahead for her liking. Beyond carefully, she looked into every room she came across, never making an uncalculated step, and yet… Nothing. No wraiths' moss, nor anything else that was worth even a second glance. A few times she believed to see a shadow moving, out of the corner of her eyes, but every time she whipped around to catch it, there was the same nothing as everywhere else. All this search was doing was make her nerves stand on edge, and her heart rate go through the roof. After half an hour of following the pitch black corridor, she still hadn't reached the end of it but decided to turn around anyway. The plants she had seen growing down here hadn't changed in the last fifteen minutes of walking, and thus she deemed it highly unlikely that they would change even if she moved on now. Thus she headed back towards their meeting point. Damnit… she had been so sure about the moss being down here, but there wasn't a single speckle of her tracing dust to be found anywhere! The thought made her halt; if the dust wasn't here, where was it then?

She had already been walking for a good while when a distant sound echoed off the stone walls, and she froze in her step immediately. Silence. Her heart picked up speed in an instant. It stayed silent, the narrow hallway closing in on her in an uncomfortable way, and she walked on with a frown on her face. Then the echo reached her ears again, clearer this time, she heard her name… and she started running.

A million scenarios ran through her mind in time with her path through the hallways, and she could only hope that this was one of the kind that would make her regret running, not one that would make her wish she had been able to run faster. Blindly she followed the maze of corridors now, rounding corners without a second thought about what she might find behind them, until at last she saw a light shining in the distance. With burning lungs, she came closer fast until…

"Stop!" His voice made Robin freeze in an instant, and she did stop indeed right in her spot in the middle of the hallway.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" She asked, still not daring to move, but she needed an answer. Now.

"I am fine, the situation however is clearly not." He replied in utmost annoyance, and Robin felt immensely relieved at that. As long as he was upset and complaining about something, the world wasn't ending. So far so good.

"Can I move again?" She inquired carefully, trying to get her breathing back under control. Gods, running really wasn't for her, leave alone after a day like this. But adrenaline was a nice little helper in this case. "What's going on?"

"You can move, yes, but do not come near this door."

Still panting, Robin moved the remaining few steps down the hallway until she stood facing the room the light was coming from. There he was, standing in the doorway a step into the room, looking entirely furious but otherwise fine. Robin still didn't understand, but a good bunch of negative scenarios were proven wrong right then, and it honestly came as a small relief no matter what. She observed him for a quiet moment, her chest still heaving pathetically, but slowly the terrible burning in her lungs decreased.

"You… you scared me." She finally admitted, on a whim, but she thought that he should know nonetheless.

His anger seemed to lessen up upon that, as if it hadn't even occurred to him what she might be experiencing in this situation, until he looked almost sincerely sorry. "That wasn't my intention. I heard a noise and it left me thinking that you were nearby."

"Well, I… wasn't. It doesn't matter." She huffed and finally brushed the hair out of her face that had become stuck and tangled everywhere in her blind chase through the dungeons. "I hurried either way, so what's the trouble?"

"I cannot get out." Was all he said for a moment, and when Robin frowned at him first, then at the doorway that didn't even have a door hooked inside it, he finally elaborated. "I could come in here without trouble, but there seems to be a spell placed on the door that prevents me from leaving again. As if that wasn't bad enough, it so happens that everything I have tried to remove this barrier has failed."

Robin's frown deepened, and she chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about his words. A magical prison… that means someone who had lived here at some point had been a witch or wizard. Or would a visitor bother to set up a room like this? Unlikely. That didn't help much right now either way; the only question of relevance was how she could take this barrier down.

"Robin…"

"Yes, I'm thinking! Just give me a moment…" She spoke without even paying attention to what she said. Which spells did she know that blocked magic? The apparition jinx on Hogwarts, for example. But how to find a counter curse when she didn't know which curse had been placed on the door? Damnit… she still felt so desperately on edge down here, the dark closing in on her, and the hallway seemed to shrink as well.

"Breathe, yes?" He said in a surprising calm, and Robin finally looked up at him once more. "None of this is your fault. It was I who was idiotic enough to wander in here without precautions."

"Perhaps. But that doesn't change the fact that I need to get you out of there, and I promise you that I will."

"Removing an unknown spell is an immensely difficult and highly unlikely procedure. You cannot promise me that."

"Watch me." She replied with a newfound determination that came along with a sudden idea. Snape was right, removing an unknown spell was practically impossible and would take ages of trial and error. But perhaps she didn't have to go down this road. "You might want to get as far back into the room as possible."

"What is your plan?" He asked, but still moved away from the door like Robin had told him to, retreating into the far corner.

"I'm keeping my promise by thinking outside the box." She gave him a small and weary smile, but a smile no less as she pointed her wand not at the doorframe, but at the wall next to it. "You, uh… better conjure up some kind of shield now." She took a deep breath, steadying her shaking hand in between heartbeats. "Bombarda Maxima."

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[spidernerdsblog]

Love Is The Biggest Spell : Prologue

A/N: This is a complete fantasy based series. The magical elements are just used for setting the environment and for the entertainment of the reader, any form of superstition is not promoted. Hope you like this. Feedbacks and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing : Warlock Tom Holland x half mortal reader

Summary : Witches are forbidden to fall in love with mortals. But what if your long lost love returns to you as a mortal, can you defy your heart? Any spell any magic seems useless in front of the magic of love. Let's join our lovers in their magical conquest beyond life and death as they fight for their love unravelling dark mysteries of the past along their way.

Warnings : mention of blood, murder.

For onlookers the town of Runeshire may seem as a peaceful and prospering town bustling with life and energy situated amidst lush green valleys and surrounded by a mystical forest. People here are kind and generous leading simple lives. But the town is a lot more than it appears to plain sight. For generations it has been the home for humans as well as witches. This is no ordinary town, this is indeed a magical town. Every corner of the town has a story to tell. Even though with a glorious past where witches and humans lived in harmony the town also stands witness to one of the darkest past in its history that haunts the lives of the people till date.

During the witch trials of Salem, several witches and warlocks fled to different parts of the world in order to save their lives. Runeshire was one of the places where the Hecatean witches sought refuge. Initially the people of Runeshire warmly welcomed them and provided them shelter in the mystical woods of Runeshire. For decades witches and mortals coexisted peacefully. The Hecatean witches worshipped the goddess, nature and drew power from the four elements. Humans used to seek help from them for healing potions and protection spells for their loved ones. 

But the peace was short lived after the Church of Dark came into existence. A new coven that was set up by a group of power hungry witches and warlocks in the mystical woods at the outskirts of the town where prayers were offered to none other than the devil to seek unlimited powers and immortality in exchange for their soul. A rift formed between the Hecatean witches and the witches of the Church of Dark. The Hecatean witches didn't approve of the path of dark and use of dark magic. But more and more witches and warlocks in the greed of eternal youth and unlimited power shifted to the new coven. Satanic rituals came into practise. 

Meanwhile the witch hunting phenomenon spread like wildfire in every part of the world, witches were being publicly executed or brutally murdered by witch hunters. At the same time plagues and famines started to hit the town of Runeshire. People were dying for some unknown reasons. Tensions rose between mortals and witches as the humans started to suspect the reason behind these mishappenings is due to the dark magic the witches practised. There was a growing atmosphere of mistrust and hatred towards witches among people of Runeshire. Rumors spread out that the witches are practising black magic to steal the life essence of their children to remain young. The people of Runeshire decided to take the matter in their hands and execute each and every witch and warlock living in the town. 

Most of the remaining Hecatean witches fell victim in the hands of the enraged hunters. The witches of the Church of Dark went into hiding using their dark magic and sealing the coven with powerful spells that restricted the entry of humans. 

But everything changed on that particular cursed night. Falling under some wicked conspiracy humans killed an innocent powerless witch. Since then the witch clan were forced into hiding their true identity from the mortal world. They stopped practicing witchcraft in public and made minimum contact with humans. New rules were set for the coven and the first and foremost was no witch or warlock can establish any kind of contact with the humans. If they are caught and found guilty they will be banished from the coven and stripped of their powers. 

"Witch!" A man growled in a hoarse voice. 

"Please let me go, I'm not going to hurt you." You begged. 

"Let you go and you suck out the life out of our children!" 

"I'm a mortal just like you. I gave up my powers. I can prove to you." 

The angry mob didn't pay a heed to any of your pleas as the witch hunters surrounded you with pitchforks and blazing torches in their hands. Your mouth felt dry, body weak and exhausted from running all the way to save your life but still you didn't want to die not like this, so you gathered the little bit of energy left inside your body and ran into the direction of the woods. 

"Don't let that witch get away!" someone yelled. 

"Don't worry she is not going to see tomorrow's daylight." a middle aged man said in a hoarse voice,a devilish grin forming on his face as he loaded his rifle. 

A shot was fired, the echo reverberated in the woods as the bullet hit straight at your back perforating through your chest. Blood oozed out as you winced and screamed out in pain. You didn't stop though you kept running as fast as possible in hope of getting away from those hunters. 

"Y/N! Y/N! Wake up!" You heard a feminine voice calling out your name.

"No! please don't kill me! I don't wanna die" you mumbled in your sleep your face contorted as if in some kind of pain.

"Y/N wake up! You are having a nightmare again!" This time someone shook your body violently. 

You woke up abruptly gasping for air, eyes blown wide fear prominent in them, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, body trembling. Out of instinct your hand went to your chest to check for any traces of blood. You heaved a sigh of relief when you didn't find any. 

"Y/N are you okay?" your cousin Erica asked with concern in her voice. 

"Yeah, yeah I'm-I'm fine." You nodded holding your throbbing head. 

"Again the same nightmare?" 

"Yeah" you sighed deeply. 

"Here drink some water." You took the glass from her hand and drank the water. 

"Don't tell mom about this please! Or she will freak out again."

"We will see that in the morning now go to sleep." Erica made you lay down whilst gently stroking your forehead. 

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Tagging all from the previous series if you want to be removed kindly send me a message I’ll remove you.

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[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Gonna make full use of my ‘comic rant’ tag and roast Future State: Superwoman.

Spoilers! And yelling! Of the disgruntled kind!

So a few things at the start here: 1.) I wanted to love this book. I wanted it to be great. I wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt, in spite of some iffy stuff in the solicit text. So this rant is not coming from a place of having decided this was going to be awful ahead of time. 2.) My tolerance for bad Supergirl comics is pretty high! Takes a lot for me to actually come out and say that a particular issue is trash. Reader: This story is trash.

It’s not ‘middle-aged white guys writing/drawing a story about sending a minor to a potentially hostile planet fully nude’ trash, mind you. It’s the compost bin, rather than the landfill. Slightly nicer trash, but it still stinks to high heaven. Allow me to expand!

PROLOGUE - SUMMARY: ...I actually can’t summarize this comic b/c it would devolve into a lot of senseless yelling. We’ll just have to tease out this terrible plot as we go along. 

PART I - DEAD DOGS TELL BAD TALES: The comic opens with Kara standing at Krypto’s grave. That’s not why this comic is trash, but it bears mentioning. Because why. Why would you do this. 

PART II - IN WHICH IT ONLY GETS WORSE: So, Kara has a running inner monologue, and the main thing we gather from Kara’s thoughts is that it was Krypto who taught her to be a hero. On paper, that sounds very sweet! In practice, it reads as Kara having no moral center whatsoever—whatever good qualities she might possess, she did not learn from her parents, or her foster parents, or friends, or fellow heroes. Nor do they come from within Kara herself. Nope, t’was Krypto who taught Kara not to be a jealous rage monster. That is not hyperbole--Kara’s walking around angry about her cousin all the time and she’s like, ‘It was you, Krypto, who taught me not to judge, and to let go of anger.’ Listen, I love Krypto, but this? This is, as the youth would say, a bad look.

PART III - THOSE CERTAINLY ARE...SOME THEMES: The set-up here is that Kara is on the moon, and has established a sanctuary for alien refugees. That’s a dynamite idea! I love that! Buuuuut Kara didn’t look at the plight of alien refugees and say, ‘I want to help!’ Really, she didn’t even look at herself and say, ‘I don’t want others to feel like I’ve felt.’ No, she said, ‘Earth won’t accept me as a hero, and Clark didn’t name me protector of Earth, so. I’m out!’ (Honestly, if your moral compass is so whack that you need a dog to walk you back from Hulk-Smashing...can’t say I blame Clark for not picking you, Kara!) But apparently, the people on the moon don’t really like her either. And it is literally never explained why. There’s a whole montage of Kara fixing stuff and saving lives and all the moon folk just glare at her. This makes both the moon people AND Kara look like a**holes, because they come across as ungrateful, and she comes across as a glory hound. Thanks! I hate it! So the ‘peace’ Kara’s found on the moon isn’t really peaceful at all, cause she still resents her cousin, and people still don’t like her, in spite of the fact that she’s constantly performing acts of service for them. 

Also, side note, I’m just now realizing this is an entire population of alien refugees...and Kara is somehow still the odd one out. Like, Earth I get, because everyone else is a human and maybe freaked out by the super powers. But a bunch of aliens? WHY. Why did you do this. Why did this need to be set on the moon with alien refugees if you’re not going to interrogate Kara’s identity as an alien refugee herself AND all of the aliens are inexplicably humanoid in appearance and utterly ordinary in terms of power levels.  

Like. This is not the CW show, where they have a budget, and a huge ensemble cast to serve. YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE. AAARRRRRGHHHH.

PART III CONT’D: There’s also this weird ‘birthright’ element introduced...like, Clark and Jon stole Kara’s ‘right’ to be earth’s defender which is...a terrible reading of Kara’s modern origin. It brings in the idea that Kara is a ‘chosen one’ and because she didn’t get to be that chosen one, all of her hero work is for nothing. Never mind the whole central conceit of what makes Clark and Kara heroic...that they have this incredible power, and choose to do good with it. Nah...it’s all about her ‘right’ to protect the people of Earth! And mean ol’ Clark took that away! THANKS. I HATE IT. 

PART IV - A POOR USE OF SPACE: So, all of the Future State books kind of struggle with the issue of too much exposition, which is understandable. They have to introduce an entirely new status quo in a very limited amount of literal page space, so you *really* have to have a handle on how you allocate your time and focus.  

Introducing a brand new, lore-heavy heroic character who gets all of the development and dynamic art and pulls focus away from the character you’re meant to be writing is a bad use of a two issue limited series.

Like, this is a crappy Supergirl comic but it’s a great backdoor pilot for a Lynari ongoing, I guess. 

Imagine if in the Jon Superman book, they introduced a random, brand new best friend for Jon, and he got the big character arc instead of Jon. That’s something you save for an arc in an ongoing title, NOT A TWO ISSUE EVENT COMIC.  

Back to said new character, there’s a lot of forced attempts to parallel Kara and Lynari, but Lynari’s backstory is so confusing, rushed, and poorly explained that it’s like: okay, they’re both...angry? And the moon jerks hate them? ...uh. Okay.

(I’m gonna bring back my ‘why is this set on the moon, even’ question so that my ‘poor use of space’ header becomes a better joke.) 

PART V - I'M HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO...B/C THERE SURE AIN’T ONE HERE: I’ve already mentioned that Krypto was apparently Kara’s conscience so when Lynari’s aunt arrives to...kill them? (again, everything about Lynari’s backstory is rushed and poorly explained) Kara gets real mad and basically pulls a Gothel: ‘You want me to be the bad guy? Fine! Now I’m the bad guy.’ But thank goodness Lynari is there to tell Kara no! Don’t murder the giant aunt eel! Lynari then steals Kara’s powers and gives up the swamp jewel that’s been hidden inside their body and now their aunt is less murder-y!

WOW. Couldn’t even give the big damn hero moment to Kara in her own book, huh?

So the day is saved. It takes Kara a while to regain her powers, and it’s only then, when she’s no longer ‘above’ the moon jerks, that they’re like, ‘oh, we like her!’ There is a bit of narration about how that attitude is awful. But that narration is provided by Lynari. See, the inner monologue is no longer Kara’s thoughts, but rather it has switched to Lynari’s point of view. They’re telling us this story. And do you know why?

PART VI - WHY THIS COMIC *SUCKS*: KARA DIES. SHE’S THE FRIGGIN’ ‘SECOND GRAVE’ OF THE TITULAR ‘TWO GRAVES’

Fudge this comic to heck.

See, Kara dies on the moon, presumably of old age. She’s buried next to Krypto. And this random character who we’re suddenly supposed to care about tells us her story. Not Clark. Not the Danvers. Not Brainy. Not even one of the supporting cast members from her solo title. No one from Kara’s life is mentioned at all, save for Jon and Clark, and they’re pretty much relegated to flashbacks of Kara punching them. 

PART VII - TIME TO COMPARE DEATHS, I GUESS: First and foremost can I just say that I hate that’s a sentence that I’m typing about Kara in the year of our lord, 2021. But okay: Kara’s big famous death in Crisis stopped the entire DC universe cold. Everyone paused in the middle of the destruction of the multiverse to mourn her loss and honor her (GENUINELY HEROIC) sacrifice. Clark and Barbara--two established characters with a strong connection/relationship to Kara--offered lovely eulogies. 

This one: Kara gets to die of old age in obscurity after a lifetime of striving to be recognized and only achieving it by de-powering and serving a population of jerks. 

Not the warm and fuzzy ending you think it is!

(Meanwhile, Clark lives for millennia and spawns an entire dynasty of Els, all of ‘em out there, protecting the cosmos. I was looking forward to House of El in the hopes of maybe seeing some Kara stuff but NOPE. Thanks to Superwoman, we’re probably not gonna see any future Kara stuff beyond this! G R E A T)

And like, the argument could be made that this ending makes Kara happy. This is the life she chooses! She wants to be alone and garden on the moon! Except, we get zero insight from Kara regarding the remainder of her life. We only have Lynari’s narration and some montage shots...nearly all of which focus on other characters. But honestly, even if we did get Kara’s side of things, I doubt it would shed much light on her feelings, bEEECAUSE...

PART VIII - SUPER BLAND: This Kara really has no personality outside of ‘detached and vaguely bitter.’ I like Sauvage, I think she’s an incredibly talented artist, but here, Kara is stiff and her expression often reads as aloof. She’s very pretty, but it comes at the expense of being expressive. (And I know Sauvage can do expressive stuff...because Lyanari gets to be expressive.) Like...I love that shojo manga vibe but this is a Kara devoid of spark and warmth. 

...Like...Melissa Benoist’s portrayal of Kara is right there... 

I’ve already sort of touched on this but her inner monologue doesn’t have much personality either. She’s just parroting the same, ‘I need to do as Krypto taught me!’ nonsense for both issues. Until, of course, we shift to Lynari’s narration, and lose Kara’s thread entirely. 

PART IX - LET’S WRAP THIS UP: This book frustrates me to no end because it had a lot of stuff going for it. It’s got a female writer and artist--still a rarity for the Supergirl book--it’s a limited series mostly free of continuity and character baggage, and it’s not tied down to the grimdark cyberpunk stuff happening in the Gotham books. YOU COULD’VE DONE ANYTHING. And, once again, DC goes with a pitch that’s: Kara is angry, Kara resents Clark...and Kara dies.

It’s also happening...right as Kara has no dedicated ongoing title, the movie’s been shelved, the TV show is entering its sixth and final season, and all promotion has shifted to new CW and HBO shows. 

*screams into the void* 

MAAAAAAN I hate this book. I hate that it retroactively makes me hate the Andreyko run a little bit--a run that I took to be about a traumatized young woman forced to confront her grief, and who leans on a beloved animal companion for comfort. Here, Krypto is L I T E R A L L Y the reason Kara’s not constantly frying folks with her heat vision. 

I hate that this book has made me use the word ‘literally’ so much in this rant.

I hate that this could possibly be more in continuity than Millennium.

Remember Millennium? Where Kara was in like...five pages? And she was warm, and kind, and promised to help Rose because it was the right thing to do, and oh yes, WAS PRESIDENT OF EARTH?!??! AND A CLASSY OLD LADY!?!?!?!?! WHO WAS STILL ALIVE AND KICKIN’ IN THE FAR FLUNG FUTURE!?!?!?!?!

I hate that I’m using my lunch hour to rant about how much I hate this comic.  

I hate that DC editorial seems hell-bent on erasing the interesting aspects of Kara’s character to sand her down to ‘the angry one’ or ‘Batman 2.0′

PART X - LET’S END ON SOME (?) POSITIVES: Don’t read this book! Don’t do it! Don’t waste your time and money!

Instead, check out ANYTHING ELSE. If you want mom!Kara, read Tom Taylor’s ‘Last Daughters of Krypton’ in the DC Nuclear Winter special. If you want heroic oldlady!Kara, read Millennium. Honestly? Pick up anything by Bendis that has Supergirl in it. It is miles away better than this. You want angry Kara working through her grief? Andreyko, Red Lantern, even Infected. ANYTHING BUT THIS. HECK, grab Superman of Metropolis instead! That has bad Kara characterization but at least she doesn’t end up dead. 

Anyways. This comic is bad. I wish it wasn’t! And this is now the SECOND TIME IN A ROW that Kara’s book ends on a terrible note before the character disappears from monthly comics for an unknown period of time.  

*screams into the void again*

[mistaeq]

Hey!! Can I request a reader insert of Polnareff trying to flirt with a girl he found cute/interesting and her reciprocating? I’m missing him already even though I’m not even finished with part 3 yet because (spoiler) I’ve already found out his tragic fate :’( tyia!!

Jean Pierre Polnareff: Mutual Flirting

TW // none

Flirting, this prompt is the cutest, sorry about the ending, fem!s/o

WORD COUNT: 1.93k

What the hell did they want from you? You thought they had stopped wanting money from you, but there you were, running from a bunch of youngsters who only wanted to steal the few money you still had.

You had no idea something like this could happen in a place like Singapore. It felt peaceful, when you moved. But then bad things started to happen. To you only, apparently. You were growing tired of that situation. Sometimes you only wanted to get the first flight and run away. But now you only had your poor feet, to run away from those thieves.

You were running with your head turned back, to see where they were and who was following you. Unfortunately - or not - nobody has eyes behind their head, and you straight up ran into someone.

"Ugh! -.. mon dieu..." the huge man flinched before throwing his arm around you. "Sorry, sorry, mademoiselle, I was in the middle of your way." a french gentleman. Perfect.

You rested for a second on the arm that had caught you, but then you immediately freaked out and started apologizing.

"N-no, you should forgive me, sir, I-..." you lowered your voice to a whisper. "...please, help me." the man heard you. You were such a beautiful girl. Even though he knew nothing about you, giving a help wouldn't have hurt. Plus, Jotaro and Kakyoin were somewhere around the city, and Avdol was with Joseph, looking for hints about Dio with Hermit Purple. So he was all alone, doing nothing.

He noticed you were slowly hiding behind him, a yelling and stomping noise getting closer. A bunch of guys was approaching the two of you. You didn't know what of that man's gaze suggested you he was a sweetheart. But you were deeply right.

"Are they harassing you?"

"They want my money."

"Will you trust me?" not that you had any choice. Running away again was even worse than trying to stay by that man's side. You nodded.

"Oi, y/n, you found a prince charming?"

"Give us your money and cut this bullshit!" the french pushed you in front of him.

"I'm no prince charming. Just take her. None of my business." for a minute, you regretted trusting him. You panicked. The thieves started laughing, one of them approached you to grab your arm.

"This is priceless, you should see the look on your fucking fac-" he stopped, when a deep cut appeared on his cheek. "What the..."

A second guy tried to grab you, and tripped on something invisible, hitting the ground with his nose. Oh, you were confused. You couldn't imagine what was going on. Not you nor those guys could see Silver Chariot.

"Oi, little bitch." those bastards were angry. They truly were. "What the fuck are you doing? Are you a witch or something?" You didn't know what to do. But you were also quite sure that those weird wounds came from the french gentleman.

"You better run." you just said, hoping it would work. But it didn't. When one of them, their leader, apparently, approached you again and obtained a new wound on his arm, they freaked out like five year olds, and ran away, threatening to sue you for it. As if they hadn't just tried to steal your money.

"Au revoir!" the man laughed. When they were far enough to let out a breath of relief, you turned towards the gentleman. "...You gave me a heart attack, but... was it you? That... thing. Those wounds."

"Yes. It was me. Don't ask, please."

"I won't... just... thank you."

"No, thank YOU for bumping into me. Didn't know angels could live on Earth." How. Cheesy. The cheesiest thing you had ever heard. You laughed nervously, but your face became as red as his earrings. Damn, that man was a whole flirt. "So... y/n, uh? Enchanté."

"Do I get to know the name of my savior too, or...?" as you asked the question, he ran a hand through his hair and smiled languidly.

"Jean Pierre Polnareff, just Jean for you." beside him, Silver Chariot was striking poses to impress you. Poor stand, you couldn't see it. It was so used to people seeing stands, that it actually forgot ordinary people couldn't see them. But maybe it was better like this, since Chariot's poses were clearly expressing what Polnareff would have wanted to do with you. This man found you incredibly interesting and cute.

"Okay Jean... thank you... i mean it... a lot." you didn't know what to do. You were completely alone in Singapore, and he was so beautiful and seemed so caring and interested in you. And he was french, so maybe he was just a tourist. Maybe he could bring you with him... no, no, wait, what were you thinking? He looked like he was flirting with you, and you were down for it. But maybe he was just like this with everyone, and you were mistaking pure kindness for flirting. And you had just known each other.

"I'll let you at your business... Jean. See you, maybe... or maybe not..." you were babbling, moving slow steps away from him. He didn't do anything. Just stood there thinking. Come on, Jotaro and Kakyoin just left him without saying anything, Avdol and Joseph were back at the hotel and he was too lazy to already go back there. He had nothing to do. Fighting the Ebony Devil stand user all alone that morning had made him sick of thinking about being careful and stuff. It was his turn to mind his own business.

"I have nothing to do, to be honest. I wanted to go get a drink... but I'd be all alone..." you heard his voice from the back. Was he talking to you? Was he asking you to spend some time with him? "Mademoiselle?" You turned around, he stood there, smiling and running a hand through his hand. Again. You decided to reciprocate his flirts. He was fine.

"Not that I have anything to do right now..." your feet's tips met each other. You looked so shy. But you were actually flirting back. "I get to choose the place. I surely know Singapore better than you."

"I have no objections."

"You're weird, Jean Pierre Polnareff. It's curious."

---

You sat at a table in a cute café you chose. You assured him they made the best milkshake, and Jean Pierre thought that something cold during a warm afternoon would have been perfect. He was eager to ask that interesting girl what happened with those guys before. You never knew that, but during your sweet time drinking and talking, Polnareff had Silver Chariot protecting you behind your chair. Enemy stand users could be anywhere, or also dumb thieves like those before.

He was the one who ordered. When you saw what he was holding, you couldn't believe how much of a tease and a flirt he could ever be. Also, c h e e s y.

"Jean?" you laughed. You weren't planning on turning down his flirt, you just wanted to have a little fun. "Only one glass and two straws?"

He felt his face warm up. His cheeks had the same colour as his earrings.

"Oh... uhm." Jean Pierre swallowed, then avoided your gaze. "Actually... you're right. Just... the price was lower like this."

"Yeah right." you teased him, smirking. You were playing his same game, and he liked it. "No worries, Jean. Guess we'll just have to drink a little closer than I expected..." he played it cool, but his heart was fucking racing.

He'd flirt a lot with lots of interesting girls, but you? You had something different. You played his game, and that was driving him crazy. Every second you were more interesting for him. So impulsive and ready to try out new things, a girl so ready to flirt back to a man who just scared four thugs for her.

"Inviting someone to drink something with you and ordering only one big milkshake instead of two regular ones just because of the lower price..." you sucked up some milkshake from your straw, then waited for him to drink too, on purpose to tease him again. "...rude." He almost choked on the straw. He coughed so hard his eyes were teary.

He knew you didn't really mean that. You two were playing with each other's mind.

"So why are you here in Singapore?" you asked. But you were serious, now.

"Uhm... I'm actually on a trip with friends, we... we have something important to do. In Egypt."

"Egypt?" He was a traveller? He could maybe bring you along? Maybe... "Sounds so cool... you're from France, aren't you?"

"Oh, oui." He raised an eyebrow, and smirked, sucking on his milkshake straw. "You might want to come and visit Paris, once this issue we have to solve will be solved. I'll be there." He was implying he wouldn't have brought you with him on his trip with his friends?

He just couldn't force you in such a situation. He perfectly understood from the look on your face that you would have been interested in following him and the crusaders. But he had found someone who seemes interested in him and his little flirty games. So special. He couldn't expose you to such a danger.

"Why won't you let me follo-"

"Remember what I told you about the mysterious wounds I caused?" You nodded.

"Don't ask."

"Please. It's for your safety. But I actually... oh shit..." Jean Pierre sighed. "...I flirt because I can't express serious stuff easily... just know you're a special one for me, okay?"

"We've known each other for less than two hours, Jean." you put an emphasis on his name.

"You just asked to follow me in a whole ass trip to Egypt, y/n." He played your game. You laughed.

"You're weird, Jean Pierre Polnareff. It's cute."

---

"So here's the part where you go away with your friends and leave me behind?" you teased dramatically, smirking but still holding onto his arm.

Jotaro and Avdol were waiting for him. Kakyoin and Joseph were just peacefully talking. But still, waiting for Polnareff.

"Sadly. This won't be the last time we see each other. I promise." You impulsively hugged him tight. You might have known each other only for few time. But he was the first one to actually listen to you, and the first one to give you such positive vibes after much time of nothing. He knew how to be appreciated. You could swear you almost felt like someone else was hugging you from behind. But nobody was there. Your eyes couldn't see Chariot puppy eyeing Polnareff because it already missed your presence.

"You promise."

"I do." he pulled a small envelope out of his pocket and gave it to you. "And if you do too, this is for you. I'll be waiting."

"Yare, yare... Polnareff, we're going." Jotaro's deep voice broke your little sweet moment. Still, Jean Pierre kissed your forehead, and waved goodbye at you, running a little to reach his friends, who had already started walking away to hurry him.

The envelope in your hands was a bit heavier than you expected. You pulled out the tiny note inside of it, an address was scribbled on it. A French street. He would have been waiting for you to go there, after all. In the back of the note, something else was written.

"You're weird, y/n. It's special."

From the envelope, a red earring in the shape of an half-heart, fell in your hand.