#i had a feeling he was a magic user. but. seeing it displayed like that was so amazing /pos

[starzz-n-roses]

CHAT, I FEAR THERE IS NO STRAIGHT EXPLANATION FOR THIS😭🙏

The writers fr know their audience😭😭 /hj

“Oh, it’s pride month? Bet.” And proceeded to do this lmao

Too bad it’ll be doomed by the narrative either way, because petroglyphs is a manipulative little liar😇

[mercillery]

I love your writings and I'd love to see more Julius, could I get a sfw alphabet with him?

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: He’s so cute and angelic and beautiful and handsome and pretty and gorgeous and majestic and elegant and ravishing and lovely and stunning and charming and

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s the kind of guy who exudes a subtle, but unmistakable, affection when you're out and about. While he’s not one to engage in overly passionate displays of affection that make everyone else uncomfortable—like that couple you occasionally spot practically glued together and making out like it’s the end of the world—he has his own way of showing how much he cares. Picture that one guy you once saw casually strolling down the street, hand in hand with his partner, both of them laughing and clearly enjoying each other’s company. There's an easygoing joy about them, a visible connection that makes you think, "I wish I had that." That’s the kind of lover he is in public. He’s all about those little gestures that speak volumes—a squeeze of the hand, a playful nudge, a shared smile that tells a whole story.

When it’s just the two of you, though, he transforms into someone much more demonstrative. In private, his affection is boundless, almost overwhelming in its intensity. It's as if he has been saving up all his love for these quiet moments together. He can't seem to keep his hands off you, not that you’re complaining. He’s always seeking that physical connection, whether it's a gentle hand resting on your hip, his arm draped around your shoulders, or simply holding your hand. It's like he's drawn to you, unable to resist the pull.

For him, it’s almost like a necessity—a way to constantly reassure himself that you’re right there with him. The physical contact isn't just for show; it's a genuine expression of his feelings. When he's got his hands on you, he's happiest, feeling complete and content. Whether you’re curled up on the couch watching a movie or lying in bed whispering to each other, he’s always reaching out, making sure there’s no space between you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

As a best friend? Oh, he’s absolutely the type of best friend everyone should have at least once in their lives. Julius Novachrono is wise, strong, caring, and genuinely good-hearted. He possesses so many admirable qualities that having him in your life would be a game changer in so many ways. Your depression? Gone. Your anxiety? Practically non-existent. Most of your problems? Vanished. Having him as your best friend is not just a flex—it’s a life-altering experience. As your best friend, Julius would invite you on all sorts of magical adventures. His enthusiasm for exploring new magic is incredibly infectious. You’d find yourself looking forward to each new expedition, eager to uncover the secrets of magic and history with him. His vast knowledge would turn even the simplest conversations into fascinating discussions, leaving you both enlightened and inspired!

But it’s not just his wisdom and sense of adventure that make him an exceptional friend—Julius is also incredibly supportive. He’s always there to lift you up, whether you’re in need of encouragement or just a little bit of company. His constructive feedback and positive reinforcement would help you grow both as an individual and as a magic user, and his unwavering belief in your abilities would bolster your confidence, pushing you to achieve things you never thought possible. Overall, having Julius Novachrono as your best friend would be a positive experience!

As for how the friendship would start, it’s likely that he saw you using your magic and thought, “Woah, cool magic!” And then he approached you and you both just became besties from there.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Are you kidding? He loves cuddling!

Please hold him close and don't let go until he's practically out of breath. If there's one thing he loves more than wrapping you up in his arms, it's being enveloped in yours. He relishes those moments when he can rest his head on your lap, your shoulder, or anywhere on you. The feeling of your arms around him is his ultimate comfort, his sanctuary. He’s more than happy to set aside his responsibilities, forgetting all about the pile of papers waiting for him, just to be near you. And you can tell he genuinely doesn't mind, because to him, nothing compares to the warmth of your embrace. He completely surrenders to it, losing himself in the softness of your touch and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. It's almost as if the world outside fades away when he's with you. His usual worries and duties become distant echoes, drowned out by the sheer pleasure of being held by you. Those moments are his escape, his bliss. If someone were to see him like this, completely at ease and utterly content in your arms, they might be astonished. They’d probably find it hard to believe that this relaxed, affectionate man is the Wizard King himself.

He doesn’t have a preferred cuddling position; he just goes for whatever he feels like. As long as you’re close to him in some way, he’s content.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Honestly, settling down isn’t something that occupies much space in his mind—at least not until he meets you. Before you came into his life, he was fairly indifferent about the whole idea. It wasn't something he actively opposed, but it wasn't something he spent time thinking about either. It was more of a "meh" concept for him, something he'd consider vaguely in the distant future, if at all. However, I can definitely see him embracing the role of a family man if the topic were to come up. If you were to broach the subject, he would genuinely give it some thought. He’s not the type to dismiss it out of hand, especially if it’s important to you. He’d weigh the idea carefully, reflecting on what it would mean for both of you and your future together. So when it comes to whether he wants to settle down or not, the answer is nuanced. It’s a maybe, a so-so, a “let’s see where life takes us” kind of thing. His feelings are flexible, and they’re shaped largely by the bond he shares with you. If settling down with you means building a future filled with love and companionship, then it’s definitely something he would consider.

Julius is decent at cooking. Could be better, but he’s still decent. Not much to say for this part.

He’s a decent cleaner too.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He would handle the breakup with the utmost respect, maintaining his polite and considerate nature throughout the entire process. Even if you were to have a breakdown or blow up at him, he wouldn’t be upset in the slightest. He would fully understand your emotions and reactions, offering his empathy and support even as he’s ending the relationship. He knows how tough these moments can be and would never hold your feelings against you.

After the conversation concludes and you both come to terms with the end of the relationship, he will make it clear that he’s still there for you. He’d tell you that you’re always welcome to reach out to him if you need help or support, regardless of your new status as ex-partners. His kindness doesn’t stop with the breakup; he genuinely cares about your well-being and wants to ensure you’re okay even after you’ve gone your separate ways.

Overall, he’ll never harbor any anger or resentment toward you. Instead, he’ll continue to offer his support, showing you that his respect and care for you extend beyond the romantic relationship. It’s a testament to his character and the genuine regard he holds for you as a person. Even in the face of ending things, he remains a steadfast source of compassion and understanding. <3

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Julius is someone who approaches commitment with the utmost seriousness and thoughtfulness. He views commitment as a sacred bond, not just a promise. When he commits, he does so with his whole heart, fully devoted to and deeply invested in making the relationship work. He’s extremely dedicated, and he hopes you’ll bring the same level of dedication to the table. He also places a high value on trust and mutual respect, seeing these as the bedrock of any strong partnership. Without trust, he believes a relationship simply can't thrive. And so, he makes it a priority to foster an environment where you and him can feel secure and valued. He’s committed to treating you with the highest regard and hopes for the same in return, so please don’t let him down.

When it comes to the timeline for marriage, Julius approaches this decision with patience. He’s acutely aware of the significance of such a life-altering commitment and understands the importance of not rushing into it. He would want to be absolutely certain that both he and you are truly ready for this next step. He believes in letting the relationship develop naturally, allowing it to progress at its own pace—valuing the process of getting to know each other deeply and thoroughly before contemplating marriage. He’s not one to jump into things without being sure, so he’d ensure that the foundation of your relationship is solid and well-established.

However, once Julius feels confident in the relationship and is certain about the strength of your bond, he will embrace the idea of marriage wholeheartedly. With that being said, it’d likely take about 4-5 years of growing together and building a strong partnership before he decides it’s time to make things official.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

THE MOST GENTLE A MAN CAN BE. ❤️❤️❤️

Physically, he treats you like you’re made of the finest, most delicate glass. The kind of glass that, if you so much as breathe on it wrong, might shatter into a million pieces. He’s never firm with you, except in situations where your safety is at stake. In those rare moments, he might show a bit of firmness, but only out of sheer necessity to protect you. But once the danger passes? Back to treating you like the most precious thing in the world. He wouldn't dream of hitting you, pinching you, or even accidentally stepping on your foot. And if he ever does accidentally bump into you or causes you the slightest discomfort, you can be sure he’ll be apologizing profusely, practically on his knees. To sum it up, he’s a complete softie with you, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Emotionally, he treats you with the same level of care and consideration. He treats your feelings with the utmost care, as if they’re the most fragile thing he’s ever encountered. Please, bring all your problems to him. Whether it’s something minor like tripping on a rock or something more serious like feeling completely drained and unmotivated, he’s got your back. He’s there for every little worry, every concern, and every conflict. He'll listen, offer advice, or just be a shoulder to cry on—whatever you need. You name it, he’s there, always ready to help. No matter what’s plaguing your mind, he’s your number one supporter, utterly devoted to being as gentle and understanding as possible when it comes to your emotions.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves hugs as much as he loves cuddles, which I just discussed—meaning he absolutely does love them.

Honestly? He’s more of a hand-holding guy. It’s not that his hugs are rare; he just sometimes forgets that hugs are even a thing because he’s always holding your hand. And for him, that’s more than enough. There’s something about the simple act of holding your hand that he finds deeply satisfying. It’s his go-to gesture for showing affection and staying connected with you.

BUTTTTTTT, when he does remember to hug you, those hugs are something special. They’re gentle, warm, and comforting. He’s not the type to squeeze you until you’re gasping for air. Sure, he loves you a lot, but he’s not trying to turn you purple or anything. His hugs are all about making you feel safe and cherished, not squished and breathless. So, if you’re wondering whether his hugs are tight or gentle, they’re definitely on the gentle side. He knows how to give you that perfect, tender embrace that says “I love you” without making you feel like you’re in a wrestling match.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He would take his time to ensure that his feelings for you were genuine and deep before uttering those three magic words. So when he finally says, “I love you," it's a profound and meaningful moment, underscoring his commitment to the relationship.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He is prone to jealousy, but it’s a rare occurrence. He’s not the kind of guy who gets jealous just because another man is talking to you, walking alongside you, or sharing a laugh. That kind of thing doesn’t bother him at all. However, if he sees someone openly flirting with you, that’s when his jealousy kicks in. But even then, he usually keeps it under wraps. He doesn’t want to make a scene or make anyone uncomfortable. Instead, he waits for the right time when you’re alone together to bring it up—preferring to discuss his feelings privately.

When you’re alone and he voices his jealousy, he’s never rude or accusatory. He remains polite and respectful, hoping you’ll reassure him that your heart belongs to him alone. He trusts you, but he also wants to feel secure in your relationship. It’s important to him to talk things out rather than letting jealousy fester into anger or resentment.

To sum it up, he’s a man who believes in communication. When he’s feeling jealous, he’d rather have a calm, honest conversation with you than let it turn into something negative. He values your relationship too much to let jealousy get in the way!

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are gentle—everything about him is gentle. When he kisses you, it’s like you can feel yourself melting from the tenderness and love in those moments. Most of the time, his kisses are soft pecks, but even these brief touches are packed with affection and care. Each kiss, no matter how quick, carries a weight of love that you can feel. And then, there are those rare moments when he gives you a deep, intense, and passionate kiss. That's when things start to heat up a bit. He becomes more handsy, drawing you closer, his touch growing more insistent and fervent. But that’s another topic for never, lol.

He loves to kiss you anywhere, as long as he can feel your skin against his lips. That's all he needs to be content. However, he wouldn't deny that kissing your hand feels the most intimate to him. It's his way of showing you a profound sign of respect and reverence, which makes it even more special for him. Every kiss, whether it’s on your forehead, cheek, or lips, carries his affection, but there’s something uniquely meaningful about those hand kisses.

He absolutely adores it when you pepper his face with kisses. His face practically begs for it. Every part of his face is fair game—cheeks, nose, forehead, you name it. He can't help but feel a delightful tingle shoot through him each time your lips touch his skin. With you so close, showering him with kisses, he can’t help but feel like a teenager with a big fat crush. It’s like he’s caught in a whirlwind of excitement and giddiness every time you lean in to kiss him. And let’s be real, he’s definitely making heart eyes at you whenever you do. To him, your kisses are like magic. So go ahead, shower his face in kisses—he'll be absolutely smitten every single time.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s an absolute angel, like an angel sent not just from the heavens but by God himself. His sweetness and caring nature shine through in every interaction, and his sunny disposition is enough to make a child's day brighter. It almost makes you want to see him as a father. He's incredibly patient and always nice, even when a child is a bit of a handful. And, of course, he’s the type who would secretly sneak in just one piece of candy for a kid, adding a touch of magic to their day. I can definitely picture him being adored by many children, his playful and kind nature making him a favorite among them.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He loves to lay in bed with you for a few extra minutes before starting his day, savoring the time to cuddle and bask in the warmth of your embrace. Those quiet moments together are something he cherishes deeply, a perfect way to start his day before he dives into his Wizard King duties. If you’re a coffee person, he makes a mental note to prepare your coffee first thing in the morning. It’s a small gesture, but it’s his way of showing he cares about your little comforts. He’s all about making sure your day starts off right, whether that means a few extra cuddles or a perfectly brewed cup of coffee. That's just how he is, always thinking of the little things that make you happy.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

I have a very strong feeling that when sleeping with him, he always has to have an arm either around or on you—it’s like a subconscious need to keep you close. There’s not much else to say about how he is during the nights; he just sleeps like any other normal person, except for this habit. Oh, and he kinda snores loudly too. It's not exactly a quiet night, but somehow it’s endearing. And when he sleeps, he sleeps like a baby—completely at peace, relaxed, and sometimes even with a faint smile on his face. So, besides the gentle snores and the need to hold you close, he’s pretty much like anyone else when he’s catching some Z's. 💤

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

From the beginning, he'd be open about the general aspects of his life, such as his role as the Wizard King, his responsibilities, and his immense love for magic and understanding the world. These are the things that define him and what he’s passionate about, so he’d share them early on. However, when it comes to more personal and intimate details about his life, thoughts, and feelings, those will be shared gradually as your relationship with him deepens. There's nothing too unusual here; it’s all about letting things unfold at a natural, comfortable pace.

Julius isn’t the type to divulge everything all at once. He’d reveal aspects of his personal history, his fears, and his hopes gradually, allowing you to take in each piece of his story bit by bit. As the relationship grows, he’ll become increasingly open about more sensitive and personal topics. He understands that vulnerability is a vital part of intimacy, and he would want to share his true self with you, but only at an appropriate pace—a pace where he’s sure that you and him are comfortable. He’s aware that rushing this process can be overwhelming, so he takes it slow.

To sum it up, Julius would reveal things about himself gradually, allowing the relationship to develop naturally. It goes at a normal, appropriate pace—one that makes both you and him feel comfortable and connected!

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

The closest you’ve seen him to being angry is when he gets serious, which usually happens when there’s a threat or something urgent demanding his attention. But other than those moments, he’s never angry—especially not with you. He’d never dare raise his voice at you.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers absolutely everything about you. It’s like he has a mental encyclopedia dedicated solely to you, where every fact and memory is meticulously stored away. He knows every little detail about you like he knows his way around magic—if not, better. He’s not the type to forget even the smallest detail about you. Whether it’s your favorite color, the name of your childhood pet, or the name of your plushie from when you were only a kid, he has it all locked away in his memory.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

This may sound basic, but his favorite moments in the relationship are simply every moment he spends with you—especially the ones where you’re just being together, sharing the same space. He finds immense comfort and joy in having you nearby, within his sights, knowing he can talk to you whenever he wants. Whether it’s to ramble about some fascinating new magic discovery or to vent about all the paperwork Marx is making him do, your presence is his sanctuary. It’s these simple, everyday moments he treasures most—the companionship, the shared smiles, and the effortless way you both fit into each other’s lives.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Julius is inherently protective, driven by his role as the Wizard King and his genuine care for the Clover Kingdom and its people. This protective nature isn’t just about physical safety—it extends to your emotional and mental well-being as well. He would go to great lengths to ensure that you feel secure, supported, and cherished at all times. He’s acutely aware of the dangers and challenges that exist in the world, and he takes his role as a protector seriously. However, he’s not the possessive type of protective. You never feel smothered or restricted by his concern; rather, you feel genuinely safe and at ease knowing he’s always looking out for you. His protection is about creating a space where you can thrive, feel loved, and be yourself without fear. Whether it’s standing guard against external threats or simply being there to listen and support you through life’s ups and downs, Julius ensures you always feel secure and cared for!

He protects you in every and any way he can. Just trust me when I say that he’d go far and beyond to ensure your safety—whether it’s emotional, mental, or physical.

He doesn’t need much protection, but he won’t stop you if you want to protect him. He’ll gladly let you shield him in any way you can, as long as it doesn’t harm you in the process. Your desire to protect him is something he deeply appreciates, and he finds it incredibly touching. However, when it comes to physical danger, he might draw the line. The last thing he wants is for his beloved to get injured while trying to protect him. He’s grateful for your courage and love, but he’d much rather be the one to take any hits in battle. It’s his way of ensuring your safety, which is his top priority. But outside of physical confrontations, he’s more than happy to let you protect him in any way you wish. Whether it’s offering emotional support, helping him navigate stressful situations, or simply being there for him, he values and welcomes your protection. Just remember, he wants you to stay safe and sound, too.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He’s the epitome of effort and devotion. Julius is definitely not the type to forget anniversaries, skimp on gifts, or neglect everyday tasks that show how much he cares. He pours his heart and soul into making you happy, going above and beyond to ensure that every moment you spend together is filled with joy and love. Whether it’s planning a surprise anniversary dinner, selecting the perfect gift that he knows will light up your face, or simply taking care of the little things that make your day brighter, he’s always thinking of ways to show his love and appreciation for you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

None. He’s perfect.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not too concerned about his appearance. When passing by a mirror or anything reflective, he’ll quickly glance at it to make sure he doesn’t have anything on his face. It’s more of a quick check to ensure he’s not inadvertently walking around with something like a piece of food stuck at the corner of his mouth or something—just to ensure everything looks presentable. But beyond that, he's not one to obsess over his appearance or spend hours in front of the mirror. He’s comfortable in his own skin.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. Julius would indeed feel incomplete without you. If he found the one (you), he'd be deeply attached. If something were to happen to you, he wouldn’t be able to simply move on. You would consume his thoughts incessantly, leaving an irreplaceable void in his heart. Losing you would be like him losing a part of himself.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Loves stargazing and baking with you!

There's something incredibly serene and tranquil about those quiet, nightly moments spent under the vast expanse of the night sky. It's in those moments that he finds solace and peace, especially when he's sharing them with you. He delights in spending hours identifying constellations, tracing the paths of shooting stars, and pondering the mysteries of the celestial bodies scattered across the heavens. And of course, he can’t help but ramble on about all of this to you. It’s like his own personal astronomy lecture, but with the added bonus of your company.

He also enjoys baking with you because it’s just so much fun! Especially when you’re trying out a new recipe or tackling something a bit more challenging. He’s the type of guy who’ll playfully smear a bit of dough on your face just for the fun of it, and then can’t help but giggle at the sight. Before you know it, what started as innocent baking quickly turns into a full-blown food fight in the kitchen!!! Flour flying, frosting splattering—it’s chaos, but it’s the most enjoyable kind of chaos. He’s not afraid to get a little messy and let loose, especially when it means making such fun memories with you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Julius wouldn’t be drawn to someone who is inherently evil. He seeks someone with a warm and good-hearted nature, someone who embodies empathy and treats others with respect and kindness. Even if someone may come across as naturally mean or tough on the surface, as long as they possess a kind heart deep down, Julius would appreciate that. He believes in the power of redemption and the potential for people to change for the better. However, he has no tolerance for those who are callous or lack empathy towards others.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

I think I answered this question already in section N, lol. But I have a very strong feeling that he sleeps in these:

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Crazier Bastard's Chapter 311

Brief summary: No one still fights Rasheel. Neo used another magic again. Cale's group becomes semi-NPCs. Cale reveals himself as the hidden final boss.

==========

Rasheel was funny as always. 🤣🤣🤣

Mila: Rasheel. Rasheel: Why, why? Mila: Taunt them better. Rasheel: Huh? Mila: Just spit out lots of curses. Rasheel: Huh? Mila: What, don't you want to do it? Rasheel: N-Not that! Is that really okay? Mila: Yes. Do it. Rasheel: *brightly smiles as he swears excitedly at the dragons* %f$$c@$#k@!!!! HD: Hoh. There's a way to fight like that.

Hopefully, an enemy dragon bites the bait or else I'll feel sorry for Rasheel.🤣🤣🤣 But HD, why were you impressed with Rasheel's cursing? Did you want to imitate that?

Rosalyn seemed to have found a way to detect if Neo used magic, so she discussed it with Sheritt. Meanwhile, Exion's group arrived at their destination, and Tang Yu was excited to spread poison in the enemy camp.

Back to Cale's group, his scam was a success and he got more info from the Dark Bear. To summarize:

All Aipotu residents would become NPCs in the new area "Land of Time"

NPCs couldn't log out, and automatically became Neo's slaves, unable to escape the game

But for dragons and other special people, a position between a user and an NPC was created, the semi-NPC

Semi-NPCs could log out of the game

Cale's group was registered as semi-NPCs, and when it was Cale's turn to register, he stabbed Dark Bear in the back.

Cale: *hits the nape of Dark Bear to make him faint* CH: *also hits the nape of the Dark Bear* CH: I thought that Cale-nim's strength was not be enough. Cale: *smiles* Okay… Dark Bear: W-Why… *about to faint*

CH, why? 😂😂😂 Then again, Cale was weak, so CH had to make sure that the enemy fainted properly. And the funny part got better when Dark Bear woke up.

Dark Bear: *wakes up to find himself tied up* Cale: *introduces himself* I am the hidden final boss of the 3rd Evil, Cale Henituse. Dark Bear: *trembles in fear and looks at Cale's NPC name displayed above his head* Cale's NPC name: [Cale Henituse, a half-demon who inherited cursed blood, Hidden Boss of the 100th floor of the hidden Hell of Darkness, and the true ruler of the 3rd Evil] Dark Bear: H-Half demon! Ack- *faints again* Cale: What's wrong with him? Raon: Human, why is your name like that? Cale: Huh? *confused because everyone else but him could see his NPC name*

Why was Cale's NPC name so looooooong? 🤣🤣🤣 Everything about it screams chuunibyou to me. 😂😂😂 Half-demon? Cursed blood? Hidden boss of the Hell of Darkness? True ruler of the 3rd Evil? It's soooo chuunibyou~! 🤣🤣🤣

As for why Cale's NPC name suddenly popped out above his head, this was because of the game's rule that if the NPC introduced themselves properly, their NPC name would appear to reflect it.

But what was with that cursed blood? And were half-demons so scary that Dark Bear trembled and even fainted in fear? And what exactly was Cale's status in the game? Was he a full-time NPC or a semi-NPC? If he was an NPC, he wouldn't be able to log out, right? But he was able to do so, so did that mean that NPC bosses were an exception? After all, Neo the Dragon Lord could also log out.

Ending Remarks Lots of funny moments today with some info drop. Next chapter would be Cale interrogating Dark Bear about the location of the control point. I'm also excited to see the reactions of Cale's group about his NPC hidden boss status and how Cale would explain it to them.

[cherryeol04]

Favor

➻ Pairings: Minho-centric, implied minchan, implied minsung

➻ Genre: humor, fantasy au, magic au

➻ Additional: 

➻ Word Count: 6.2k

➻ Warnings: Attempted character death, minor character death

 ➻ Author’s notes: This story is cross posted on multiple sites under the same username!

“Gil is still on the loose.”

Minho had to hold back the audible sigh that threatened to escape him, eyes rolling unintentionally. He just couldn’t help it! It was the same old story he heard in all the classes he has taken about magic. Granted they are all stories about magic users, but it didn’t make it any less redundant. Humans and magic usually didn’t mix well, or so history has shown. Minho wasn’t sure of the accuracy of these historical accounts but it’s not like he could refute any of them. All he knew was that white magic was good, black/dark magic was bad and humans generally hated magic users for a plethora of reasons.

Okay, so maybe hate was a strong word. Distrust was probably more accurate and Minho could understand - to a point - their reasoning. Hell, he hated magic too! Magic being ‘bad’ was the general consensus that was being drilled into their heads, which was fine. What Minho didn’t understand was why every course on magic - most required - had to repeat the same material, nearly word for word from each other. He thought that at least one course would touch on the subject of how to defend against magic, or how to protect against curses and hexes. 

But no. Every course simply taught about all the horrible and tyrannical magic users of olden days and the reasons why the enforcers were created, as well as how to overall avoid any magic user at all cost.

It was monotonous and boring and Minho couldn’t believe he was wasting his hard earned money on this bullshit.

‘Two more semesters and you can start fresh. Just two more semesters.’

It was a mantra he had to keep repeating to himself. He could do this!

“Tomorrow we’ll cover the Great Siege.”

Minho absolutely couldn’t stop the long groan of exasperation that escaped him. Thankfully, it was covered up by the sounds of chair legs scraping across linoleum floors as students started packing up and leaving. It took Minho a hot second before he started to follow, taking his time packing in order to let the room empty out. It wasn’t like he had anywhere important to be anyway. Tuesdays were his slow days. One class - which he absolutely despised - in the morning and the rest of the day was void of any socialization. 

Usually.

There are some days where Minho is feeling particularly masochistic and would visit the Maxident Cafe across the street from the campus. It was a bustling little homely establishment that always brought a sense of warmth and familiarity to him, but Minho could never figure out as to why. However, Minho had long since learned that questioning things were futile and to just accept things as they were. It caused less of a headache that way.

Today, Minho was feeling masochistic.

The fairy shaped wind chimes sounded as he pushed open the door to the cafe - face hit with the most delicious smells Minho ever had the pleasure of sniffing. ‘Felix must be working today.’

“Welcome in!”

Speaking of the devil, Minho smiled, a soft greeting falling from his lips as he stared at Felix. The brunette was carefully stocking their display shelves with freshly baked goods. “Hey Felix.”

“Hyung!” Felix shot up, nearly dropping his tray in the process. He fumbled with and luckily caught it before it could fall to the floor. He was so adorable. “You didn’t see that.” Felix shot him a pointed glare and Minho laughed, shaking his head.

“Oh, I saw all of it.” he teased with a wink, approaching the counter. The flirtatious teasing had Felix flushing a pretty pink that accentuated the freckles that littered his round cheeks - adding to his beauty. Minho could honestly get lost staring at him.

“Dang it.” Felix pouted, setting his tray down on. He wiped his hands on his apron before turning his full attention to Minho. “Oh well.” he shrugged. “What can I get for you today?”

“A date.”

Felix blinked rapidly a few times, mimicking Minho’s own stare, as he processed the words that left the older male’s mouth. “Hyung!” he whined, another pout gracing his features. “Hyunjin isn’t here today.” he muttered almost sadly. Minho scoffed at the rebuttal. Not that he had anything against the male. Hyunjin was tall, gorgeous and a delight to be around - most of the time - but Felix was definitely more of Minho’s style. Small, cute and easily flustered. Felix also had this uncanny ability to just radiate sunshine and happiness and it was that pure goodness that attracted Minho to him. While the darkness inside him loved to hiss and writhe - like a dramatic diva - for being in the vicinity as Felix, the goodness in him scrambled to cling to the light - to draw from the energy he needed to keep going; to stay good.

He really was masochistic.

“You say that as if I care.” Minho smirked as he leaned against the counter, eyes locked with Felix’s pretty brown orbs - watching as they shook, unable to hold his gaze. “In which, I do not.” Felix cocked his head, batting his lashes in confusion and Minho just wanted to coo at him. A ridiculous notion. He reserved that type of behavior for his cats. Though, Felix could probably pass for a cat if he tried. “If I wanted to date Hyunjin, I would.” And he left it at that. He wasn't sure if Felix understood what he meant by that, but it didn’t matter really. Eventually he would, or least Minho hoped he would. “I’ll take my usual.”

Eyes brightening, Felix rang Minho up and after paying, the younger ran to get started on his drink, the two falling into the familiar pattern of barista/patron. AS he waited, Minho let his eyes wander over the crowded floors of the cafe, students happily chatting away or focused on their laptop screens, showing more dedication to their coursework than Minho had in his pinkie finger. It was a life Minho couldn’t get behind. Of course, it’s not like would purposefully fall behind on coursework or just fail his classes.

Absolutely not!

He had spent way too much money on his education to waste it. But that didn’t mean the thought of working didn’t disgust him. And perhaps he would have more motivation if the subject matter was more interesting. He took these magic courses because he wanted to learn more about magic. He wanted to learn about the history of it - where it came from,  or how it was passed down through the generations. He didn’t want to be put through the hell of hearing the same iterations of stories with only minor changes.

“Here you go hyung!” Minho stared at Felix, refusing to acknowledge how the other startled him. Felix stared at him expectantly and Minho glanced down at the cup between them - so innocuous. Taking the cup, he took a quick sip - face schooled but inside he was screaming as he burnt his tongue. A stupid mistake to make. Of course the drink would be hot, what else had he been expecting?  “Good?” Felix asked.

“Delicious.” Minho forced out, hoping his words weren’t as slurred as he thought they were as his tongue was numb. “Thanks for the drink, Lixie. I’ll see you later.” Making a not-so-grand exit, Minho headed back to his apartment, intent to spend the rest of his day curled up on the couch with his cats, watching whatever drama he could feasibly binge watch in an afternoon. It sounded like heaven and was probably the main reason the normally 10 minute commute only toko 5 minutes.

Upon entering his apartment, he was greeted to a chorus of meows as three furry bodies rubbed against his legs. “Hello babies. Did you miss me?” he asked, smiling as he received more meows in response. Minho was sure they weren’t actually talking to him, but it was fun to think that. Though if they could talk, he was sure he would hear nothing but complaints about how they wanted more food, even though he fed them before he left for class that morning. Shaking his head, he shuffled further inside, careful to not lift his feet fully off the floor in fear of stepping on one of his babies.

“You know.” he started, sending the three cats a frustrated glare. “This would go faster if you weren’t trying to trip me.” he huffed. Though he knew they weren’t trying to actually trip him, he did find it ironically hilarious that as soon as he made that comment, the three cats wandered off. Such a convenient coincidence. “Thank you.”

Unobstructed, Minho headed into the kitchen and against his better judgment, he fixed three bowls of cat food, setting them down in their normal spots by the fridge. “Soonie, Doongie, Dori!” It took a moment, but eventually two orange cats emerged, followed by a gray tabby that trotted over to their dishes and eagerly devoured their food. “So spoiled.” 

Cat dad duties finished, Minho headed back into the living room and plopped down on the couch with a heavy sigh. He wasn’t sure why he still felt so frustrated. He knew the feeling stemmed from the story covered in class but usually seeing Felix and getting his favorite coffee always made him feel better. Today it just didn’t seem to be working. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed once again. Grabbing the remote, he turned on the TV and scrolled through the channels until he landed on a drama that barely caught his interest, mind still a jumbled mess.

Lost in his thoughts, Minho jumped when his phone started ringing, eyes wide as he stared at the offending device. Quickly, his eyes scanned the room, landing on Doongie as the orange cat sat in the corner, watching him with an interested gaze. “You saw nothing.” he warned, the feline yawning in response before curling up and laying down. Talking to the cats was an odd habit surely, but it did help to keep Minho from feeling lonely. With a grunt, Minho grabbed his phone, which had started ringing for a second time. “Hello?”

“Minnie~” Minho cringed at the sickenly sweet coo, mentally kicking himself for taking the call. “What are you doing?”

“Watching TV.”

“So nothing then?” Jungkook.

“No, I’m watching TV.” he corrected with a scoff.

“Perfect! We’re having a gathering tonight and we would love it if you came.”

Minho mulled over the offering carefully. He really didn’t feel like going out and socializing, but he knew gatherings like these were usually fun and filled with people that Minho could tolerate for the most part. “Who is ‘we’?”

“Oh, you know…”

No, he in fact, didn’t know and Minho hated how vague Jungkook was being, but that was to be expected from the socialite. No information given, but he could surprisingly convince anyone to go anywhere and do just about anything. “I’ll be there, Seonghwa -” He started listing off names, but truth be told Minho tuned him out, not at all interested. At least, not until a specific name was listed. “Irene, Chan -”

“Chan’s going?” Minho straightened on the couch and if he were a cat, his ears would have twitched with interest. Jungkook laughed at that and a spike of embarrassment coursed through Minho. However, his curiosity was too great to let him dwell on that for very long.

“Of course that’s the only name you would care about.”

“Arguably the only one to care about.” Minho retorted with a shrug. He pointedly ignored teh scoff on the other end. “What time?”

“7pm.”

“Ugh, really?”

“What? Past your bedtime grandpa?” Minho snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Some of us have class in the morning, slacker.”

“Yeah, but Chan will be there.” And that was such a tempting offer, and Jungkook knew it. The self made Soundcloud producer was such eye candy and a sweetheart to boot. Even with the minimal interaction Minho had with Chan was enough to have him swooning and falling head over heels for the man. Hell, Minho practically tripped over himself once to try and get a moment alone with Chan. Could he really pass up another opportunity to see him?

No way in hell.

“I’ll come.”

“Great! So we’ll-” Minho ended the call mid sentence, knowing full well Jungkook would text him the info later. Dropping the phone on the couch, he let his head fall back, feeling so mentally drained from the call. There was something off about the day. His mood just didn’t feel right and it upset him as much as it concerned him. He normally had a steady plateau of emotion, fluctuating only occasionally and in short bursts. To ping pong between emotions and have none of his normal soothing items help calm him down, it was strange. Hopefully, seeing chan and being around others would fix whatever was broken.

-----------

The one thing Minho hated most about Jungkook and his “gatherings” was the fact they always included magic of some sort. Usually Jungkook or someone close to him would perform some childish magic trick that still enraptured everyone. And while all the magic users usually invited were white magic users, that never stopped Enforcers from showing up. The magic cops loved to show off their status at any given point - the white starburst badges pinned to their right shoulder sleeve. At least it made it easy for Minho to identify and steer clear of them. He had never had an actual encounter with an enforcer, other than a passing glance. Yet he had an instinctual fear of them and he did his best to avoid them like the plague. Parties were no different. 

After grabbing a drink from the kitchen, Minho made his way back into the living room and made himself comfy on one of the couches. He scanned the crowded room, watching bodies as they grinded together on the makeshift dance floor. Normally Minho would join in, letting the music take over his body - releasing all his worries and stress as he lost himself to the rhythm of the beat. But not today. Not when he knew Chan was going to be there. He would have ample enough time to dance, but the chance to talk with Chan was few and far between. Besides, if he was lucky, maybe he could convince Chan to have a dance… or five. It was a solid plan and all Minho had to do was be patient. 

But he was far from being a patient man.

As the night wore on, he was becoming extremely antsy for Chan’s arrival. His spot on the couch had the perfect view of the front door and anyone who walked in. At least a dozen or so people came and went, and with each new arrival, Minho’s hopes were crushed a little more.

Four drinks and two hours later, Minho wandered back into the kitchen, intent to get another drink. His mind was already feeling fuzzy, but thankfully the ground wasn’t moving yet. He could handle one or two more drinks before he needed to go home. The kitchen was a mess. Empty beer cans and soda bottles littered the floor. Half empty liquor bottles were scattered across various counters and the center island. The room itself was empty except for one person by the fridge. Minho had a witty comment on the tip of his tongue but it disappeared as he spotted the starburst patch on the right shirt sleeve. Every instinct in his body kicked in and his brain was screaming at him to turn tail and run away - which he did. But just as he was leaving, he heard an all too familiar voice.

“Minho, hey!”

Minho paused and against his better judgment, he turned around. His eyes landed on Chan’s beautiful face, a smile so wide and pure that this entire scenario seemed surreal. 

“Chan,” he breathed. “When did you get here?”

It was a stupid question. Or rather, the question wasn’t stupid, just the fact that Minho insisted on holding a conversation was stupid. It didn’t matter when Chan arrived, but when did he become an enforcer? Last he checked, enforcers had to have some sort of white magic in them and Chan was human! There was not an ounce of  white magic residing in him. Of course, it wasn’t unheard of that humans could be enforcers, but the humans tended to be part of archiving and trials. Their badges - according to historians - were different. The starbursts were only for enforcers who actively patrolled and enforced the laws. So why did Chan - pure, loving, kind hearted Chan - have the starburst?

“A bit ago. Jungkook had me held hostage out front.” he chuckled as if that explained everything.

It explained absolutely nothing!

In fact, it only added to Minho’s confusion. Had Jungkook known all along about Chan’s new position in life? It’s not like the older man wasn’t aware of Minho’s dislike for the enforcers.

“O-Oh.” How lame, but what else could he say? There were plenty of things Minho wanted to ask but he wasn’t sure he could ask them without risk of giving away his secret. And he couldn’t do that, not now that he knew Chan was one of them. The silence between them felt weighted and awkward.

“Yeah.” Chan nodded and smiled. “As you can see, I was appointed as an enforcer today.” Chan turned to show off the badge, smiling so widely like he was ecstatic, and he probably was. Minho couldn’t blame him for that. 

“I didn’t know you could use magic.” It was the first thing to pop into his mind and honestly a question he wanted an answer to.

Chan frowned, cocking his head. “You didn’t? I thought for sure you knew. My dad is the current general.”

Minho’s eyes widened at the news, chest tightening with an indescribable feeling. He couldn’t believe this. Chan came from a long line of enforcers. He used magic. He was everything Minho had wanted in a partner and in a matter of seconds the perfect fantasy world he had created came crashing down around him.

Minho swallowed thickly, fighting back the urge to cry. “I didn’t know.” 

“Oh. Well now you do, I guess.” Chan shrugged. “Cool right? Also, thanks for coming to my celebration.”

“Y-Your celebration?!” As if this couldn’t get any worse. This entire party was to celebrate Chan becoming an enforcer. This was devastating. 

“Yeah! When I told Jungkook, he insisted on throwing-” Chan paused, eyeing Minho carefully. “Are you okay, Min?”

Minho felt like the world was spinning and he was going to pass out at any given moment. There was just too much information to process and it felt like the universe was out to get him. “I have to go.” Dropping his cup on the counter, Minho turned and made a hasty exit out of the kitchen and the house, ignoring Chan’s call for him to come back. There was no way Minho could go back and face him. He was nothing but a bundle of emotions now - a swirling mass of negativity the likes he had never felt before.

It was horrible. There was an icky heavy feeling washing over him - his limbs feeling heavy with each step he took. It almost felt like a pressure building and looking for a way to escape, and Minho would be more than happy to release it from his body. Glancing down at his hands - where were feeling a bit tingly - he stopped dead in his tracks, shocked at what he saw. The tips of his fingers were oozing an inky blackness that he had only seen happen  once before.

“Shit. Not now.” he whined, trying to wipe his hands clean, but of course that did nothing. He couldn’t just wipe away magic so easily. Worried, Minho looked around, taking in his surroundings. While it wasn’t busy out, the sidewalk was still occupied by a good number of passersby, all of which posed a threat to Minho. His heart raced as he tried to figure out what his next move should be, because there was no way he could stay out in the open with black magic oozing from his fingers.

Doing a once over again, Minho spotted and alley opening and quickly ducked inside. He needed to figure out a way to get home without being seen because he was absolutely sure he wouldn't be able to wrangle in his magic - not with the whirlwind of emotions currently coursing through him. The side of town he was currently on was one he was familiar with - thankfully - but he had never traversed the back alleys before. He had no idea which alley connected to the next or if any of them could lead him back to his apartment. But he had to try and figure it out. The longer he remained outside, the higher the risk of being caught became.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Minho started down the alleyway, vigilant of his surroundings. The further he moved in, the darker it became. It unnerved him how the light from the streets on either end couldn’t seem to penetrate the darkness of the place. It was quite eerie and if Minho wasn’t so worried about his life, he probably would have turned tail and ran.

“Get away from me! Stop!” Minho froze at the cry, blood running cold. It came from right in front of him and Minho was terrified to take another step forward. Yet something inside him was telling him that he needed to go investigate - to help whoever was in trouble. It was an absurd idea and yet his feet carried him onward as if on autopilot and the horrific scene he came across was sickening to bear witness to. There were two men, one on the ground - probably the man that had begged for his life. The other man hovered over the fallen man, a dark aura surrounding him. It had Minho shivering and he could feel the dark energy within him reaching out, trying to merge with it. 

Another dark magic user. 

A companion…

Minho shook his head, focusing on pulling his magic back. He couldn’t let them combine. He wasn’t like that - didn’t want to use his magic to hurt innocent people. That wasn’t the type of person he was! But he also wasn’t the type of person to stick his nose in situations that didn’t involve him. However, could he really turn the other cheek and just pretend that he hadn’t seen this? If this man died, mentally and emotionally his blood would be on Minho’s hands. And despite how strong he believed he was, Minho wasn’t sure he could live with that knowledge. In a split second decision Minoh thrust his hand forward, expelling the black magic that, up until now, had been dying to be set free. The force of the expulsion sent the attacker flying back - knocking him into the concrete wall a few feet away. A heavy tension filled the air as he waited for the man to get back up.

He didn’t. 

In fact, he didn’t move at all and Minho feared maybe he had somehow killed the guy. “Oh shit.” he whispered, already taking a few steps closer.

“Don’t!” The warning gave Minho pause and he turned his attention to the man he had just saved. In the dim lighting of the alleyway Minho couldn’t really make out any features, though he sounded young - probably around Minho’s  age or younger. The survivor’s attention was still focused on his attacker, however, and Minho turned back towards the fallen man, ready to go help despite the warning he had been given. But the man’s body was gone.

“What the hell?”

“Black magic.” Well yeah. Clearly the man had been a black magic user. But that honestly wasn’t a great excuse for the disappearance. Minho was pretty sure that all magic users had the ability to disappear - teleport in a way. It seemed a little stereotypical to just group that magical action with black magic users, even if he was correct about this particular situation. Minho wanted to be upset- outraged even, but as the anger was bubbling up inside him, the other man finally got up and walked over to him. “Thank you.”

It felt like a punch to the gut while simultaneously all the energy had been zapped out of his body. Now up close, Minho could out the most beautiful brown eyes he had ever had the pleasure of staring at. Adorable chubby cheeks also adorned his equally adorable looking face. Minho was sure he had been correct in his assumption that this guy was young. He was young and beautiful and Minho had the passing thought of wondering if he was single. 

“My name’s Jisung.” The handsome man - Jisung - introduced himself and Minho became extremely aware of the awkward staring he was doing. Blinking rapidly a few times, Minho cleared his throat, the tips of his ears heating up slightly. 

“Minho.” 

Jisung smiled. “Well Minho, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Wish it was under different circumstances.” 

“Likewise.” Minho looked Jisung over again, trying to get a better sense of the person standing before him, but could hardly make out anything in the dark alleyway. “So what exactly did I stumble upon?”

“Upset patron.” Jisung laughed as if he hadn’t just been moments away from dying. 

“That sucks. Guess he’ll be leaving a bad yelp review.” Minho joked and Jisung laughed once more. “Are you okay, though?” It was probably something that he should have asked earlier.

“Me?” Jisung asked and Minho wanted to roll his eyes. That was such a stupid question, but he held his tongue. “Yeah, I’m fine.” he confirmed with a shrug.

“Oh, good.” A blanket of awkwardness fell over them and Minho wasn’t sure what to do to fix it. It was a new situation that he never thought he would be in, so he was a little socially inapt with how to deal with it. It’s not like this was a movie and now that he saved someone’s life, they’re going to fall madly in love and live happily ever after. In fact, it was probably better that they parted ways and never see each other again. There was less of a risk of being found out that way. Minho was just thankful that Jisung hadn’t seemed to notice the type of magic he used.

“Well, this is awkward.”

Was this guy inside his head?! As far as Minho knew, there weren’t any minder readers. That wasn’t a power that even existed. Maybe it was just a coincidence? 

“Yeah.” Another lame answer, but words were failing him at the moment.

“Well, I hate to cut this short, but I should get going.” Jisung flashed him a smile. “Thank you again for saving me, Minho. Maybe one day I’ll be able to return the favor.”

“Yeah, hopefully not, but maybe.” Minho agreed. Taking a few steps back, Minho gave a slight bow and Jisung returned it. “Bye Jisung.”

“See ya.”

Minho took his heave first, exiting the alleyway only to realize how late it was. The streetlights were on and the road barren save for a random car passing every now and again. And despite the darkness, the air outside was hot and humid. 

Disgusting.

And the black magic still swirling inside him only added to that disgusted feeling. It was way too wound up and excited after coming across another black magic user. He hated how sick it made him feel and once more Minho was cursing his birth givers. He couldn’t even call them his parents because they gave him up at birth and cursed him with the life he had now. He hated it - hated them. Everything wrong in his life was their fault. He couldn’t only hope they were already dead, otherwise if he ever met them -

He paused, shaking his head to try and clear his thoughts. That was a dark train he went on and definitely not who he was. The influence of the black magic was starting to get to him. He needed to get home as soon as possible so he could safely expel it before he did something he’d regret. Minho had spent far too long concealing himself to let it all go to waste because of a heroic good deed.

-----

3 months, 15 days and 5 hours. That’s how long it’s been since the incident in the alleyway and since then, Minho has been constantly running into Jisung. It was strange, because he had never seen the squirely boy before and Minho liked to think that he was decently social. Sure he didn’t have many close friends - none really - but he knew a lot of people and got invited to a lot of events and parties and Jisung had never been someone he’d crossed paths with before. It was almost comical how frequently Minho saw the other, so it was only inevitable they started to hang out. Jisung was a decent guy and very easy to get along with. Dare he even think that Jisung was his “person”.

And maybe it was this blossoming friendship that distracted Minho. Kept him focused on a future he wanted and not the life he was living. Maybe he would have noticed sooner, the issue bubbling just under the surface. Maybe he could have prevented it from happening.

Maybe…

Stupid! He was so stupid! Minho should have known better than to stay out when he was feeling so bad. It wasn’t like this was the first time his powers got out of control, though maybe it would be his last. The thought terrified him, but not as much as the enforcers that were chasing him.

“Stop Minho!” Chan shouted from behind and Minho probably would have stopped if it weren’t for the beam of magic that went flying past him, just barely missing him. “Don’t make this harder for yourself!”

“Oh yea. Because giving up would be so much easier!” Minho sassed. He yelped as another beam was shot at him, nicking his calf and causing him to stumble. His legs gave out from under him, body collapsing as he tried to catch his breath. Everything hurt - his eyes were crossing and his ears were ringing as the world spun. A shadow loomed over him and panic coursed through his body. He tried to scramble to his feet, but pain shot up his leg, stopping him.

“I told you to just stop.” Chan’s once sweet voice was hardened, sharp. Minho held back the whimper that tried to crawl out of his throat. A foot pressed against his side and with a hard nudge he was unceremoniously kicked onto his back. “Tears won’t help an abomination like you.” Minho wasn’t even aware he had been crying. His heart shattered into pieces as the hurtful words washed over him. This wasn’t Chan. Chan was sweet and kind and wouldn’t hurt a fly. However, Chan was also an enforcer and as painful as it was to admit, Minho knew that there had to be a small piece of malice in him. It was the only reasoning he could come up with as to why Chan could be this mean and hateful to someone who was different.

“Please.” he whispered, almost begging, but all he was greeted with was a hateful stare and Chan’s glowing hand.

“You know how this has to end. I’m sorry.”

Minho didn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it. Chan wasn’t sorry because if he was, he would do this. Or at least that’s what Minho told himself. “Chan please!” he begged once more, the tears falling faster. And for a brief moment there was a sense of hesitation. And Mino seized the opportunity. Black smoke like tendrils crept forth from his fingers and he grabbed Chan’s ankle. His magic shot up through Chan’s leg, wrapping around his limbs and constricting. Chan shouted in pain and Minho watched as black veins began to spread over the pale skin, slowly taking over. The sight pained Minho, but nonetheless he climbed to his feet, calf throbbing in pain.

“M-Minho.”

“I’m sorry Chan. I’m so sorry.” His voice trembled as he fought back his sobs. He knew the magic wouldn’t kill Chan - he could never go that far - but it would keep him at bay for now. He turned and started running, though slowed down by his wounded leg. Every stretch of the muscle felt like searing hot iron was being pressed into his skin. It was horrible. But still he pressed on, knowing that if he stopped he would die. Sirens began to blare across the city, shivers rushing down his spine. Minho had only ever heard stories of those sirens being sounded. 

He knew what they meant.

Minho made a beeline for the nearest dense foliage. He wasn’t sure if it would lead out of the city or just provide a place to lay low for a while, but it didn’t matter. The longer he was out in the open, the more danger he was in. He got about half way there when he heard the shouts and the ball of magic began whizzing by him.

“Fuck, fuck.” he cursed, looking around for any sort of safety. He wasn’t sure what caught his attention, but for some reason he happened to look over at a store front and there, peeking out of the door was Jisung, waving to him. If this had been any other situation, maybe Minho would have second guessed the other’s appearance. As it was, this was a life or death situation and Minho preferred to live.

Changing course, Minho ran to Jisung, slipping through the open door and coming to a crashing halt against the front counter. Bent over, Minho panted as he watched with weary eyes as Jisung locked and secured the door. When he turned around, Minho’s entire world came crashing to the ground as his eyes landed on the starburst patch on his right shoulder sleeve. “No, no…God please no!” he begged, stumbling backwards as he tried to put more distance between himself and Jisung.

“Min, wait.” Jisung held up his hands in surrender, taking a step or two closer. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” Minho wanted to believe him, he really did, but there was just too much hurt and betrayal in his heart. He had thought he was friends enough with Chan that the other wouldn’t attack him like had. But he had been so clearly wrong. Their relationship had clearly meant nothing to the older man. And now he had discovered the one person he considered his best friend was also an enforcer, he just couldn’t take it. Everything was falling apart and Minho was powerless to stop it.

“Please, Jisung,” he whispered. “I can’t do this. Not with you. I trusted you.”

“And you can still trust me!” The sincere earnestness in his voice called to Minho and all he wanted to do was hug Jisung. He needed Jisung. Biting his bottom lip, Minho caved and walked closer. If this was a trick and he died, then so be it, but he just needed one last moment of happiness. Jisung smiled and closed the gap between, taking Minho into a tight hug. Minho broke down and buried his face into Jisung’s shoulder as he sobbed. “It’s gonna be alright, hyung.”

“How?” Minho pulled back and stared at Jisung - cheeks red and splotchy, stained with his tears. “They’re trying to kill me, Sungie! All because…because…” he trailed off, eyes going blank and unfocused as he stared off behind Jisung.

“You use black magic.” Jisung finished and Minho nodded numbly. “I never would have guessed.”

“I never wanted you or anyone else to know.” Minho whispered. “I hate this, curse to be hunted. I tried so hard to just use my white magic, but sometimes,” he sniffled and reached up to wipe away his tears. “Sometimes I just can’t control it.”

“You use both?” Jisung asked incredulously. Once again, Minho nodded solemnly. Jisung was silent for a moment, looking Minho over. It seemed whatever debate he was having internally, he came to a decision as he pulled back completely from Minho. He reached into his pocket and pulled his keys. “Here.” he said as he pressed them to Minho’s chest.

“What?” Minho frowned.

“My care is out back. Take it and leave this place.”

“Jisung? I can’t. They’ll see me and m-my cats!”

“I’ll distract them.” Jisung grabbed Minho’s arm and guided him to the back door. “And don’t worry about your cats, I’ll take care of them. Just go.”

Minho pulled his arm free and glared at the other. “Why are you doing this?”

Jisung could only smile as he opened the back door. “Returning the favor.” With that, he shoved Minho out the door and closed it, leaving him standing there stupefied. Only a few moments later he could hear Jisung out front, gathering the enforcers and leading them in the opposite direction. This was his chance and despite the craziness that just happened, he wasn’t going to lose it. Turning, Minho ran to the car and got in. Starting it, he carefully made his way out of the alley and to the back roads that would lead out of the city - his heart still racing and now full of hope.

Until we meet again. Thank you, Jisung.

Tags: @sauceracha @jisungsjheekies @luminouskalopsia @hanjisungismybaby @imbonibi @jiwlys @leafsmindpalace @army-of-carats @peachmilkcloud @letterstoskz @lauraneuuh @babyskz @stay-here-dont-stray @meen1ez @slinekyu @feedthefandoms995 @schokoshaker @rejemi @ahhhhhhhhhghh @thsrndkd @halotopicecream @skzmonster @jumunnaa @serendipityryn @yayaistime @sachifukyo @eastleighsblog @hydrawaterdragon @3rachasninja @haileybugulug @luvyev

( If you want to join the list, you can find the info here! Also I’m sorry for those listed in the tags but not getting tagged. For some reason tumblr can’t find your blog to tag. I’m hoping it figures it out soon like it did for others.)

[flashfuture]

(Robin vol 2 #11)

(Detective Comics #619)

Since Jack and Janet's company was so nebulous but they were involved apparently in archeological excavations. I think it would be cool if a review of the past story for Tim sorted out that Jack and Janet's company stole destroyed vital for the magic users in Haiti and they want money for it. And during this Tim discovers that Drake Industries wasn't dealing in spreading medicine like he assumed. But instead going to the global south to excavate and find natural resources and then take anything cool they find home to sell/display/give to museums. As a fun bonus it could be said Billy Batson's parents worked for Drake Industries when they died and then could be a Shazam team up

There is of course precedent for "Jack Drake takes stuff from dig sites"

(Robin 80 page giant)

Here we see Jack is with Dana and he steals a plot relevant amulet from a dig site and takes it home and ends up giving it to her. I also like Jack being like yeah I don't think my new wife would like working with me (what tore apart his marriage with Janet). And I can't remember the comic but Jack casually at one point had some ancient golden staff in his closet with his golf clubs. Jack owning a sketchy company that steals resources and then wanting to pretend he's Indiana Jones feels very canon too

Anyways I just think that Tim should get to dig a little deeper into who his parents were because it is first established in canon he didn't know them well, never knew where they were, and was not very clear on what the company did.

[poisonedfate]

since you rewatched it i’m so curious: what is something about the reveal in canon that you want to give the writers/actors their dues? like the lines being sad, what’s happening or how lines are said. idk if i’m wording this right

such a good question, thank you! i touched on this a little in the previous ask, but there's honestly so much that i did genuinely appreciate in the episode. i had only previously seen clips and bits, but watching it all together was a whole different experience. there's a lot of negativity that i could bring up, however, to me at least, most of it concerns larger canonical tones and less so the moments of the actual episode.

firstly, the acting was, of course, incredible. both bradley and colin are phenomenal and that's nothing new, but such an emotional episode? can't give them enough praise. all the lines were delivered with such force and their expressions - from arthur's entire facial journey during the initial reveal to merlin's detailed reactions to every single thing arthur said from there on out…don't even get me started. i could go on, but the work they put in is (thankfully) often recognised.

i want to talk more about the writing and the actual pacing of the reveal. i've seen certain moments be highlighted as good and certain points get raised as "missing" or "lacking" and whilst i, too, wish some things would've been different, the overall feeling of it wasn't as…lacklustre as i thought it would be.

first, i want to address the idea itself - yes, i would've liked to see more of merlin and arthur post reveal, however, a tragedy is a tragedy. as much i would've loved to see them reference more moments or discuss other instances of merlin using magic it wasn't necessarily possible within the storyline - arthur dying and all. i think they did as much as they could without oversaturating it with memories or placing all of merlin's powers on display. although reminiscing, especially in the last episode, could be considered worthwhile they had an arc to finish. as i've mentioned, i did really like the different moments representing merlin's powers without retelling things that had already happened (apart from the callback to ep1, which i think was a nice touch and the correct memory to bring up) - instead of telling arthur about all the bad guys he's fought and dealt with, arthur could see him do it through dragoon and later through himself. beyond that, instead of a longer monologue justifying his actions, merlin shows his power by creating a harmless dragon out of the flames of a fire - a recall, but not a retelling of similar things he's done throughout the show, things that symbolise the pureness of magic. arthur has limited time and he's also being hit with 10 things at once - he's not stupid, he can make those connections, maybe not all of them due to his state of being, but a good amount, i'm sure.

i also appreciate the entire journey arthur went through. i like that they didn't shy away from the hurt he felt from merlin's reveal. it's clear by this point in the story that arthur doesn't necessarily condemn all magic users, but he is deeply hurt by broken trust, betrayals and lies. i appreciate how, despite it all, he fought merlin's words, up until merlin was forced to show him. it highlighted the severity of his trust in merlin, how solid he was in it. he's hurt and he says "i want him gone" and yet the suggestion he gives gaius is to send him back to camelot. he's aware gaius knows and perhaps he wonders who else does, but i'm certain he knows it can't be a lot of people. and yet. there are conversations later on, arthur saying "i should've (killed you)" (which is a whole different beast to address; a line that can be taken in many different ways), there's the line "i don't know what i would've done" when talking about merlin revealing his secret earlier, but at that moment with giaus, "gone" doesn't mean banished or exiled or whatnot, it means out of sight. so many implications - i will refrain from unpacking it here as it is not exactly relevant.

another thing i really valued was the dynamic change - the way it was discussed and learnt anew. it is the clearest idea you get of merlin's view of devotion and his place in the world. he's talked about it before, but not in the face of arthur knowing. more importantly, however, it is arthur wrapping his head around the detailing of their relationship, the two sides of merlin that have become one - one that's not all that strayed from what he already knew and yet still filled with surprises.

i could talk about these scenes for days on end and it still wouldn't be enough. they packed in so much in such little time. i also want to talk briefly about gwen and gwaine. i am certain gwaine figured it out at the crystal cave, and i think it was a beautiful scene all around. merlin could've made up a lie and he didn't. gwaine could've asked for me and he didn't. it was understanding and it was trust in such a simple yet effective way. and then gwen - she was always one step ahead in my mind. her reactions, as well as her questions, were a joy to watch. it put me at ease and something about it simply felt calm and right. both of these reveals were given in roundabout ways, each with their own impact and meaning, and i really did appreciate it.

[ohgodsalazarwhy]

Lambert fucked up. He watched Eskel's expression turn from neutral to stormy, not all at once but slowly like dark thunderclouds crawling over a jagged horizon. "I didn't mean that," Lambert said quickly, as if he could outrun the coming torrent.

Eskel rose, hands flat on the table as he stared Lambert down. There was a growing static in the air around him, chaos fluttering like the wings of bats. It made Lambert's head hurt, he'd never been magically gifted like Geralt much less Eskel, and too much Chaos in the air could make him feel hungover.

"You meant it," Eskel said, his voice the rolling thunder from the dark cloud that were rapidly overtaking them both.

"It was a fucking joke you humourless bastard!" Lambert snapped, scrambling backwards and nearly tripping over a crooked bench. Before he could get any further Eskel raised one hand as fast as lightening. Lambert tensed, waiting for an Aard or Yrden, perhaps even an Axii. Instead Eskel cast Quen and a golden bubble popped into existence around him.

Lambert was stunned into silence at first. Quen was one of the first signs they learned as initiates, but the hardest to master. For one it often had to be anchored to you or something you were touching. Lambert could cast Quen around himself and anyone he physically touched. Stronger users, like Geralt, could make the Quen explode or apply it as a thin, nearly invisible veneer around them.

Eskel, it seemed, could project it. Lambert tried to push through the shield and found it immovable. He kicked it and swore as he stubbed his toe. Lambert tried to draw one of his swords but found the bubble was neither tall enough or wide enough to pull his blade from the scabbard. Casting Aard or Igni would backfire spectacularly. He wasn't that dumb.

"Just going to keep me here all night?" He yelled at Eskel, his form shimmering and golden outside the shield. "Real fucking mature, you rancid cock!". Lambert tried to ram his shoulder into the shield but it didn't so much as shudder with the impact. Lambert, however, felt a bit dazed.

"You can't keep this up forever!" Lambert yelled again.

"I don't have to," Eskel said, his expression was calm once more. He had his hand up and fingers displayed in a held Quen, pointing at Lambert. He wasn't just casting it he was maintaining it, using constant Chaos to feed the shield. It made it strong but it also meant even Eskel had to run out of energy sooner rather than later.

He looked awfully smug, though. At least from what Lambert could see. "You're a fucking coward! Afraid of a little brawl? Come on, it's not like either of us can get any uglier!"

Eskel snorted and shook his head, not rising to the bait.

Lambert took a deep breath, it was getting warm in the bubble. He felt like...like he wasn't getting enough oxygen... It hit him all at once. The bubble was impermeable. Completely. There was no fresh air coming in. "Oh you son of a bitch!" Lambert exploded and threw himself around in the bubble, gasping for breath as each inhale became less and less satisfying. Eskel wouldn't kill him but he sure knew how to make a man suffer for a slip of the tongue.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Lambert gasped, falling to his knees as the world rushed up to meet him. All at once fresh air, fresh cool air, flooded into his lungs with the next gasp. Lambert collapsed and rolled onto his back, heaving for each breath like he'd just run the Killer.

"Now was that so hard?" Eskel asked as he sat back down and picked up his hand of Gwent cards. "It's your turn, by the way?"

"Was that a little harsh?" Geralt asked dispassionately from the head of the table.

Lambert wheezed and crawled back up to sit across from Eskel, fervently avoiding his gaze from behind his own hand of cards.

"I don't know, Lambert, was it too harsh?" Eskel asked it with a tone that implied genuine concern, but his eyes betrayed him. He was laughing at him, the bastard.

Lambert shook his head instead of saying anything, conserving all his precious air. After all, it could have been much worse. Eskel could have kicked him out of his bed for the rest of the Winter.

[rainbow-nerdss]

Chocolate, Frosting, and a little bit of magic

Written for @augustwritingchallenge day 14: Wizards and Witches Buddie, 1.5k Read it on AO3

Buck's eyes snapped to the door as his charm alerted him to a new customer. A man and his child walked into the bakery, and Buck's eyes widened.

The child led the way to the display case, while his father looked around in a surprised sort of amazement. 

The charm over the door wasn't the only enchantment Buck had over this place. Many of them were simply to make his life easier—alerting him to a new customer, reminding him of his regular's names, calculating change for him, or keeping the pastries fresh for longer. 

Others were a precaution, to keep himself and his customers safe.

There was one charm which kept certain people out, blocked the doorway and wouldn't let them enter, imbued with memories to recognise the people in question before they could cross the threshold. That one had been difficult to weave, but Buck was proud of it. It made this place a home, ensured Maddie and others could feel safe here. 

Another safety charm disguised the front of the store, so those without magic would see a dusty, run down little place, while those with the touch saw it for what it was — yellow shutters, cakes baked with love, imbued with small magics and painstakingly decorated by hand. 

Buck didn't discriminate in who he served, as long as they meant no harm, but it was rare to see a mundane person in here, and that meant Buck's regulars were able to feel more comfortable being open with their magic.

This man, though—Buck knew right away he had no magic. The child, on the other hand… Buck could see something in there. A spark of light, magic. 

Buck stepped out from the back room.

"Morning! I'm Buck, what can I get you?"

The child grinned at him. "I'm Chris, this is my dad Eddie. He said he'd get me any cake I want for my birthday!"

Buck grinned at Chris, then gave the father —Eddie—a softer smile. 

"A birthday cake? Well, that calls for something special!" Buck's charm whispered to him. "Let me guess… You're turning nine?"

Christopher beamed, and Buck felt the magic, pure light, pure joy. This kid was powerful, and his dad had no clue.

Buck showed off his range of birthday cakes, and while Chris deliberated, Eddie spoke to Buck.

"This place," he said. "From the outside, it looked… different."

Buck nodded. He didn't have any hard and fast rules about what he shared with people like Eddie. Some people refused to even talk to them, mostly out of gear for how they might react, fed by negative experiences.

Buck, though… he'd been hurt by enough of his fellow magic users to know it didn't matter how much power someone yielded. If they were a good person, they'd be good. If they were bad, well…

He had a feeling Eddie was good.

"It's magic," he whispered. 

Eddie snorted. "Sure, right."

Ah, Buck thought. One of those.

He inhaled, then blew a gentle breath onto Eddie's forehead, who backed away. "What was—"

"Go look from outside again," he said. Eddie scoffed, took Christopher's hand, and then they left.

Eddie called back an hour later to order the chocolate fudge sundae cake, to be collected in a week for Chris's birthday.

The next time Buck's charm alerted him to Eddie and Chris's presence, he didn't need them. He heard Chris before the door even opened.

"Dad, it looked like that last week! I swear it did!"

Buck looked up to see the pair of them, Chris as bright as ever, Eddie frowning even deeper. 

"I told you it was magic," Buck called over to them. 

Eddie was hesitant.

"Really? Magic is real?!" Chris was delighted, rushing across the small shop over to Buck.

"Of course it is!" Buck crouched down so he was on eye level with Chris. "Try this," he whispered, holding out a small cookie.

Chris looked to Eddie for confirmation that he was allowed to taste it.

"Free sample, for the birthday boy!" Buck clarified, and Eddie gestured for Chris to go ahead.

When Chris ate the cookie, he nodded to show his appreciation, then began to float roughly an inch above the ground. He laughed out loud, a joyful little squeal.

"Dad, look!" He called.

Eddie just stared. "Are you holding him?" He asked. Buck stepped away, hands open and empty. Eddie approached Chris, searched around him for ropes or a platform.

"That's… impossible," Eddie said, finally. 

"If you say so," Buck shrugged, going back behind the counter to retrieve the cake. When he got back, Chris had finished the cookie and was back on solid ground. 

"Can I have another one, Buck? Please?'

Buck glanced at Eddie and saw the answer in his expression. "Sorry, bud. I think one is enough for now. Wanna see your cake?"

He set the box down and let Chris peek in. 

"Is this one magic, too?" He asked.

Buck pursed his lips. "Wanna know a secret?" He asked. Chris nodded so enthusiastically Buck almost worried he'd lose his balance. "All my cakes are magic. This one has a charm that makes it feel like you're eating a real ice-cream sundae, all cold and melty in your mouth!"

Eddie warned Chris not to eat any before they got it home for the party, then gestured that he was ready to pay. Buck took him to the register and rang him up.

"Look, I get you don't believe in this stuff, but…"

"It's not that, Buck. My Abuela has charms of her own, you know?"

Buck raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected that, honestly. "Does she?"

"Yeah. She moved back to Texas recently, but she always said Chris had potential."

"He does. I can see it in him," Buck chimed in, and Eddie's look of surprise was worth the brief panic he'd overstepped.

"Yeah. She makes these tamales, and when you eat them it's like…"

"Like a warm hug from someone you haven't seen in a long time," Buck finished, recognition clicking.

Eddie's mouth dropped open. "How—"

"Isabel was a regular here," Buck explained. "I was sad when she said she was moving. I used to trade these for her tamales once a week." Buck pointed to his éclairs, the ones piped full of cream imbued with a pain-easing charm. "She liked them for her arthritis."

Eddie blinked rapidly, like he was fighting tears staring at the display. "She gave me those once," he said. "When I was hurt on the job."

"Ah, so you're the firefighter grandson she spoke about so much?" Buck checked, though he'd figured that out as soon as Eddie mentioned the tamales.

Eddie nodded, bashful. "She talk your ear off about us?" He asked.

"Something like that," Buck said. He thought of all those times she spoke about her Eddito, telling him to just say the word and she'd be happy to set them up. "She never mentioned me?"

Eddie made an apologetic face. "Only magical friend she spoke about was someone called Evan," he said.

Buck laughed, gesturing at himself. "I kept telling her not to call me that! Evan Buckley, but I'm Buck to everyone—except grandmas, I guess."

Eddie's cheeks turned pink, and Buck figured Isabel must have been saying the same things to Eddie.

"Daad!" Chris called, and Eddie turned to look at his kid. "I know I can't have another cookie, but could Buck come do magic at my party?"

Eddie, to Buck's surprise, turned back to Buck, waiting for his response.

"I don't really have anything for a birthday party, sorry buddy." If he'd had more warning, he could have whipped something up, but those kinds of things took preparation.

Chris didn't seem phased. "Oh well, you can come anyway if you want!" 

Eddie made a face, but it was more thoughtful than a firm no. "You're more than welcome, if you're free later today. Abuela's planning to face-time at some point."

And that solidified it for Buck. He was agreeing before he even thought it through. 

"I close up here at four, is that okay?" He asked.

"Yesss!" Chris cheered, dancing on the spot.

"Here," Eddie grabbed a napkin and a pen, and scribbled something on it. "Our address," he explained, handing it over. "And my number — just in case."

Buck stared at it, then tucked it away in his pocket. "Thanks, Eddie."

Eddie turned to go, picking up the cake and putting his other hand on Chris's back to lead him out.

"Oh, Eddie?" Buck called. Eddie looked over his shoulder. "I'm not sure what Isabel said about me, but… if it's anything like what she told me about you… I wouldn't mind giving it a try."

Eddie's blush confirmed it had been exactly what he thought.

"I—" Eddie stammered. "We can talk about that after the party, okay?"

"Talk about what, dad?" Chris asked, and Buck laughed to himself as Eddie stumbled walking out the door at Chris's question.

Buck made a note to send Isabel a thank you package of all her favorite treats. A little preservation charm on the box, and they should make it to Texas without much difficulty.

He closed up shop early that day, ushering the few remaining regulars out. He had a party to get to.

[thealligatornoah]

Falling in love (Cater edition)

At last, I'm back writing! Sorry, I had been facing mental health issues, and it mixed with school work and the fact that I actually didn't know what to do with Cater, plus another project I have in my mind. But do not worry, 'cause today I litsened to phony, which inspired me! That's my favourite cover, btw. Suck it up helped too.

(Holy crap "Ashite aishite" started playing while writing this, 400 likes and I'll write a yandere Cater parody lmao)

Well, let's get it started!

Warnings: is a bit angsty, sorry, I didn't mean to :'D

When it doesn't catch Cater's interest, he won't be able to focus in it, like studying. But magicam does capture his interest, and his many followers really love his bubbly easygoing personality, they really look up to him. He just has to be positive, even in situations that drain his heart in tears and sweat.

He doesn't like sweets? Just eat them all! You're scared of loosing your friends? Just don't form any strong bonds, easy-peasy! You're feeling down? Just smile to the camera! Isn't it great? This is his life!

The ceremony of a new school year is taking place at NRC. He smiles to his camera to show off how handsome and ominous he looks in his cloak, "#thesameceremonyaslastyears", he writes underneath the picture with bored eyes. But, suddenly, certain magicless human breaks out the coffin at everyone's surprise yet amazeness.

Cater feels as if his heart could get out his chest, and a tiny shade of pink makes its appearance shily on his cheeks. "That guy is so cute, I wanna have a photo of him" he thought immediately.

A few days later, that same boy shows up at Cater's dorm as one of his clones is painting the roses for the upcoming unbirthday party. His eyes lit up, and his mind starts thinking many things at once. He focuses little by little in the ones that he believes as priorities, like Ace having one of Riddle's collars on his neck.

Minutes later, everyone is helping him paint the roses. Not only that, he surprised (Y/N) with his unique magic, yeah, He learned his name! Cater doesn't really understand why, but that plus the adorable smile that boy is displaying right now just melts him.

After finishing, he approaches the magicless human.

-Hey, (Y/N)! -he giggles, blinking an eye- Did ya have fun?

-Oh, hi, Cater -he sends back a smile-. Yeah, Ace didn't stop complaining, but I really enjoyed painting the roses with all of you! -he cheerfully answers.

The young user of magicam gulps as he feels the same exact emotions as the ones at the ceremony slowly start hitting him again, takes out him phone with shaky hands, and coughs softly.

-Do ya want to take a selfie with me? -he asks.

(Y/N) is a bit baffled at first, "He looks like the guy that would make me mad by taking a picture without my permission" he thinks as nodding unconstiously. Did that little surprise catch him down guard?

Cater smiles widely at the affirmative answer.

He will treasure that handsome face on that photo all his life.

But not everything is pink and happy all the time. Like in the next day, when Riddle actually overblots and, thus, puts his life in real danger. Cater's friendships didn't last more than two years, so seeing one of his longer lasting friends in this state actually crushes his soul. But he can't show he is worried, he just doesn't have the permission to be sad.

So as soon as he has the opportunity to hide in the second shot of the unbirthday party, he goes to a spot to have some alone time just to have a breakdown. Tears fall down to the ground when he quietly sobs, he sits down there with a helpless look. "Why is so hard to bottle up the emotions?" He wonders.

He heards footsteps approximating him, so he swipes off all the tears.

-Cater?

He freaks out even more when he sees that it is (Y/N) who is seeing him like this.

-Are you OK? Do you need help? -he asks worridly.

Cater shakes his head, he doesn't speak due to not wanting his... crush? Hearing his voice other than his happy, go-lucky tone. (Y/N) frowns.

-Or company?

This time, he doesn't answer; two of his feelings collide and he just doesn't know what he should answer, his mind is just too blurry right now.

-Get better, Cater senpai... -(Y/N) says goodbye, taking his silence as a negative.

-Wait. -Cater finally demands before it's too late.

(Y/N) looks at him wide eyed, the poor third year is clearly asking for a hugh with open arms. Even the magicless boy is surprised with the fact that he accepted.

He buries his face in Cater's neck as he kneels down so he can reach hsi embrace. The once sobbing mess wraps (Y/N) with his arms.

-Can I trust you? -he quietly murmurs in his ear.

-Of course you can. -(Y/N) answers tenderly as he pats Cater's back.

On that day, Cater learned that he could speak with his crush; in the sense that he feels safe to tell him almost anything he is feeling, yeah, I'm excluding the romantic feelings.

From that day on, Cater spends all the time he can with (Y/N). They speak about anything and everything, if anyone ever makes a contest between them to see who knows each other better, it'd be a tie.

Then, they start to be more touchy with each other. Hugs, laying down on each other, even ocassiomal kisses on the cheeks. It is normal that the other students think that they're a couple, but they always get really flustered out when it happens. Until one damn time...

-You're such a cute couple! -one of the students mistake them.

-I know! -(Y/N) laughs- It's a joke, we're just close friends.

That is the night that one of Cater's pillows has to suffer one of his most long, high-pitched little screams from him, his face in a shade that completely hides the diamond on his cheek and his heart almost exploding. That's it, he has to confess, unless he is going to die much younger he thought he would.

One morning, Cater checks his magicam witing for (Y/N) on the same exact spot he discovered him crying his eyes out. He still can't believe that he feels comfortable showing more faces rather than "happy" to him, but that is maybe the reason he is waiting there in the first place.

-Cater! -(Y/N) waves at him with that cute smile of his.

-Oh god, is Huggy-chi!

The other boy loudly laughs.

-What's with that nickname?

-Shaddup and hug me! -demands Cater, opening his arms.

Almost like a puppy, (Y/N) jumps to his embrace. They both stay quietly like that for a few seconds, Cater is already feeling his stomach flipping upside down, his body shaking at the sensation of the cold sweat on his hands.

-Are you alright? - (Y/N) notices.

Cater takes a deep breath.

-Yes and no. -he answers.

-You know you can tell me anything. -he says patting his back.

-Yeah, but I dunno if you'll like this.

-What do you mean?

-(Y/N), I really like you.

A small scream leaves the magicless human's mouth, and strengthes his grip.

-Huh? What does this mean?

-Oh my god, Cater. Do you mean "like" in the sense of "love"? Please, tell me yes, please.

Cater giggles and lifts up (Y/N)'s chin so he can look at him in the eyes, and careses his underlip with his thumb.

-You're silly, ya' know?

Then, as if they were magnets, their lips attract each other's until they click togheter. Cater's hands leave the embrace to get positioned to (Y/N)'s face, he will treasure this moment even more than the first selfie of the two of them, so has has to make sure to make it as romantic and memorable he can.

When it doesn't catch Cater's interest, he won't be able to focus in it, like studying. But this boy succeded to catch his attention, and he is more than happy to demonstrate him that.

[pearlypairings]

Okay tell me literally ANYTHING about In the Shade of Aurelias that didn’t make it onto the page? I love that fic so much 💜

Fic backstory askpost

AHHHHH! my golden child fanfic! There's so much there bc I like to write multiple versions of the same beats to see what I like best!

In the first chapter, when Christine comes down to eat with her family, she actually had a brother like in canon. There was a strong contrast to how her mother coddled her brother and criticized Christine. Her brother was an unwilling participant in this dynamic, but clueless on how to help. However, the more the scene went on, I realized the story I wanted to tell did not involve looping her brother back into it in any way and seemed to cheapen any reflection on the opening scene's meaning. So I went with sickly only child instead 😅

I'm breaking this up bc I rambled lol but there's more under the cut here

After her scare in the marketplace, I also wrote an extended scene where her father notices the blue dust from Eddie on her gown and asks Christine many peculiar, specific questions which ultimately makes her concerned that he will figure out that the person in the alley was "cursed" and try to hunt him down. But the pace felt too slow and chunky, so I ultimately cut it down to a short, generic paragraph that suited the chapter beats better I think!

There is a ton of backstory for the side characters that has yet to be told and some that may not make into the final cut depending on the flow of the story! I think the main one I don't mind sharing for now is that her second suitor Lord Harrington is well woven into the truth behind some "entertainers" and merchants of the marketplace. He is a quiet ally to those hiding in plain sight, mostly because he had witnessed them do more good when they thought no one was watching than the evil he was told of by his family. So, he works well to make sure their secrets are kept safe in exchange for some behind the scenes display of their powers and plain ol' good conversation. Our middle child is lonely 😅

Our Hallowed Fire troupe is one of the more organized magic user groups that has been cast out, but still infiltrates beyond the walls to survive and make a living. In many of the scenes of the forest, I have sprinkled in details that didn't quite fit the tone of that chapter, but will be revisted later! Most of it is about the kids' powers and the next chapter (I swear it's on my list to work on/post possibly for Halloween) has Christine getting some lessons in what she's been missing out on all her life when it comes to magic and it's uses💕

I could talk your ear off lol but I'm gonna wrap this up. Feel free though to ask any more questions that you may have 🥰💞

PS: Because of the grander scope of this fic, I keep a thorough outline/world buulding/inspo collection for Aurelias! Before I started writing, this was my first fic that I found like character aesthetic models for reference and I'm gonna share the main ones with you bc you're so lovely 😘

[mercillery]

Hey! Idk of you're taking requests atm so feel free to ignore this if you're not. But Nacht has just showed up on my rewatch of black clover and I'm kind of getting ahead of myself with this hyper fixation?

Could I please humbly request a Nacht (or Julius if you don't do him) x femreader who uses demon soul magic? Like Mirajane Strauss from fairytail? Possibly with a similar backstory if you would be so bold? 👀

Your humble servant - 🍚🦐

WARNINGS: FEMALE READER

NOTES: Had to pull her backstory and powers from the wiki, so sorry if I get some parts of the backstory wrong. Hope you don’t mind that it’s Julius! AND IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG.

Julius, with his insatiable curiosity and deep passion for magic, was immediately captivated the moment he heard about you—a user of demon magic. The concept itself was enough to make his eyes sparkle with interest and excitement. The sheer rarity and potential power of such magic fascinated him beyond measure. He couldn't wait to someday meet you in person, to witness your abilities firsthand, and to understand the intricacies of your unique magic!

When the day finally came and Julius laid eyes on you for the first time, he wasted no time in approaching you. His excitement was palpable, radiating off him in waves as he practically bounced over to you. "You must be the demon magic user I've heard so much about!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. His eyes, wide with wonder, already filled with countless questions. And without a moment's hesitation, he began bombarding you with a flurry of questions. "How does your magic work? What are its limitations? Can you show me some of your spells?“

You were taken aback by his relentless inquisitiveness, struggling to keep up with the rapid-fire questions. Yet, despite the initial shock, you found yourself trying to answer each one as best as you could.

From that moment on, Julius began to spend a significant amount of time with you, since you allowed him to. He became a constant presence in your life, so much so that Marx knows that if Julius is once again neglecting his duties but is not in his usual places searching for new magic, then that likely means he’s glued to your side. And every time, he is spot on—much to Julius’ disappointment, because then he’s dragged away by Marx and forced to do boring paperwork again.

And naturally, since Julius spends so much time with you now, he's had the chance to see your demon magic in action—though you might not have been aware of it. He’s not a stalker, but come on, demon magic is just too cool to pass up! Whether he catches glimpses of your magic during your daily activities or because he outright asks you to demonstrate some spells, Julius is always overjoyed.

When you finally agree to show him your magic, his reaction is nothing short of ecstatic. His eyes light up with an intensity that borders on childlike wonder, filled with an insatiable curiosity. Every spell you cast and every display of your abilities leaves him more amazed than the last. It’s like you’re opening up a whole new world to him, and he can’t get enough. The more spells you show him, the more he urges you to continue. His excitement is palpable, and his enthusiasm is incredibly infectious. You demonstrate how you can take on the form of different demons, each with its own unique powers. Julius is practically bouncing with excitement. And when you show him that you can destroy and control demons without even assuming their forms, he’s utterly beside himself with joy.

“You can do that too? That’s incredible! Can you please show me more?” His eyes widen with amazement, and his voice is filled with awe and admiration. Every new aspect of your magic feels like a revelation to him, and he seems on the verge of exploding with excitement. If you continue on, he actually might explode confetti. 

And as much as Julius fanboys over your demon magic, he takes his time to truly appreciate you as an individual, not just for your magic. It wasn't long before he genuinely saw you as a friend, and not just someone who’s tolerating him and his endless questions. In fact, the moment he excitedly bombarded you with questions about your demon magic, he had already considered you a friend. But as time passed, your bond grew deeper, evolving from a shared interest in magic to something more emotionally profound. And obviously, as your friendship with someone deepens, conversations about the past are more likely to happen. However, Julius did not learn about your past from you.

He learns about your past through Yami.

I know this isn’t specifically about Yami, but I have a strong feeling that you and Yami have known each other for a long time—since you both arrived in the Clover Kingdom around the same time. This means Yami has literally known you longer than almost anyone else. He’s seen your journey and transformation into the sweet and motherly figure you are today. Yami's knowledge of your past is something he tends to keep to himself. He respects your growth and doesn’t want to bring up memories that might disturb your peace. However, I imagine there was one night where Yami had a bit too much to drink—and in his inebriated state, he let his guard down and ended up spilling the beans to Julius about how you used to be. Julius, always eager to learn more about his friends, listened intently as Yami talked.

This is how Julius’ face looks like the whole time Yami talks about your past: 🙂😶😮😯

Yeah, Julius is stunned. Not in a bad way, though.

To think that you, the most motherly and sweet woman Julius knows, used to be punkish and temperamental? He was definitely shocked. He had expected many things, but not this. Julius genuinely had to take a few moments to process what Yami had told him. Even with Yami's straightforward description, Julius found it hard to picture you as anything but kind and gentle, even if it was in the past. Julius knew you were tough now, fully capable of defending yourself if necessary, but learning that you were once feared for a completely different reason was a revelation. Yami, realizing his slip-up, quickly muttered an “oops” and told Julius to forget everything he said, as if he hadn’t just unveiled a shocking chapter of your past.

But despite the unexpected information, Julius didn’t feel any negative emotions about it. Instead, the first thought that crossed his mind was curiosity about what might have caused such a drastic change in you. He wondered what significant event or series of events had led to your transformation from a feared figure to the sweet, motherly person you are now. As he pondered this, Julius felt a swell of pride for you. If there was one thing Julius absolutely loved, it was witnessing people change for the better—and you had done just that. This newfound knowledge didn’t alter Julius’s perception of you negatively, not even a tiny bit. On the contrary, it deepened his respect and admiration for you. He saw you as a woman who had not only mastered incredible magic but had also transformed herself into a beacon of kindness and strength. He wasn’t expecting to find out about how you were back then, especially from a drunk Yami, but he isn’t complaining. He learned something new about you today, and he’s proud of the change of character you made.

But now, every time Julius sees you, he tries to imagine you as mean just out of pure curiosity—but he literally cannot. He simply can't fathom you being unkind, even toward the worst being on the planet. But despite his curiosity, he keeps his mouth shut about what Yami revealed, respecting your privacy and not wanting to make you uncomfortable. However, his curiosity continues to grow until one day he can't contain it anymore. Julius is careful and considerate, waiting for the right moment to bring it up. He makes sure it's a time when it's just the two of you, with no one else around to overhear or intrude.

When the moment finally arrives, Julius approaches the topic gently. He understands that the past can be a sensitive subject, and he wants to ensure you feel safe and respected. "I've been meaning to ask you something," he begins, his tone soft and sincere. "Yami mentioned a bit about your past when he was... well, not entirely sober. It made me curious, but I didn't want to bring it up until I felt it was the right time." He pauses, giving you a moment to process his words. "I know that the past isn't always easy to talk about, and I respect that. But if you're comfortable sharing, I'd really like to understand more about your journey." Julius watches your reaction carefully, ready to back off if he senses any discomfort. His genuine interest and respect for you are clear in his eyes.

He listens very closely when you tell him about your past. Believe me when I say that you have his full undivided attention, and he’s literally more focused on you than ever right now; he’s not letting a single word from you go past one ear and then out the other. 

In your younger years, your life was marked by utter tragedy and sorrow. After your parents died, you and your siblings were left to fend for yourselves. When you were around 13, an incident occurred that would change your life forever: a demon had taken over the church in your village, terrorizing the townspeople. In a desperate bid to help, you confronted the demon, using your nascent magical abilities. However, in the chaos of the battle and your lack of control over your powers, you inadvertently took on the appearance of the very demon you had defeated. The townspeople, instead of seeing you as a savior, recoiled in fear and disgust, scorning you and viewing you with hatred. The pain of their rejection cut deep, and you felt an overwhelming sense of shame and self-loathing. Unable to bear the hostile environment, you and your siblings decided to leave the village behind, seeking a new beginning.

Your journey brought you to the Clover Kingdom. While it was a fresh start geographically, your emotional state remained turbulent. The trauma of your past left you withdrawn, mean, and intimidating. You had built a tough exterior, becoming a bully as a means to protect yourself from further hurt. Despite settling into the Clover Kingdom with your siblings, the belief that you were possessed by the demon lingered, fueling your insecurities. After some time in the Clover Kingdom, you finally learned that you were not possessed. Yet, even with this revelation, the deep-seated belief that you were a monster persisted. The scorn and hatred you faced in your village left scars that were not easily healed. You considered leaving the Clover Kingdom to escape your past and the lingering self-doubt, but your siblings persuaded you to stay; they didn't want you to face the world alone.

When Julius finally asks you about your past, you take a deep breath and share your story with him. He listens intently, his eyes filled with empathy and understanding. As you recount the painful memories and the journey that led you to the Clover Kingdom, Julius feels a profound respect for your strength and resilience.

He seems visibly astonished when you're done talking about your background, but he covers it up so his surprise doesn't affect you. However, he remains composed and gives you a nod, letting you know that he listened to absolutely everything you had to say. It's clear that he has a great deal of sympathy, and he feels awful for you because of your difficult and painful background.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that," Julius says softly once you've finished, looking at you with eyes full of compassion and empathy. "But I hope you know that you're not a monster. You've shown incredible strength and kindness despite everything."

His words bring a sense of comfort and validation, easing the initial nervousness you felt about speaking of your past. You look down and smile, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction in knowing that he completely understands and doesn’t show an ounce of disrespect toward you for your past. In that moment, you genuinely feel comforted—not just by his words, but by the genuine concern on his face. It's a relief to have someone hear you out without judgment, and Julius's acceptance brings a warmth to your heart that you hadn't felt in a long time. And after that emotional moment you shared with him, your bond becomes stronger than ever.

Julius won’t bring up your past again unless you decide to do so yourself. He respects your boundaries and understands that such memories are deeply personal and sensitive. However, from now on, Julius will see you in a different light—a much brighter and more admirable one. He looks at you with a newfound appreciation, understanding the depth of your journey and the immense strength it took for you to transform into the person you are today. Every time Julius sees you now, he's reminded of the incredible resilience and courage you've shown. The hardships you've endured and the significant changes you've made only serve to elevate his respect and admiration for you. It fills him with happiness to know that someone so strong and kind has overcome such adversity.

He’s genuinely glad you felt comfortable enough to share your past with him, and this trust has only deepened the bond between you. He knows that opening up wasn't easy, and your willingness to let him in is something he cherishes. And from now on, Julius will carry your story with him. He feels honored to know the true extent of your past and the remarkable strength it took to overcome it. Your presence is like a constant reminder of the power of change and the human spirit's capacity for growth. Overall, he feels incredibly lucky to call you a friend. :)

[merakiui]

I just realized that we still don't have headcannons about general Yandere! Rollo. What do you think he will be like? Soft or completely sadistic and controlling?

-💫 anon

Omg you're right! Allow me to share my thoughts!! I also recently found this absolute blessing with Rollo in Guchiry's Orthodoxia. I think it's very fitting!

(cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, kidnapping/captivity, gaslighting/manipulation, obsession, mentions of abuse of power)

Rollo is the type of man who has a cold exterior and an equally frigid interior, though once he meets someone who manages to charm him his heart gradually defrosts. His standards are rather strict for both those around him and himself, and he has a penchant for orderly conduct. You'll occupy Rollo's thoughts if you cause mischief within Noble Bell's sacred walls, if you are a constant presence in his life, whether helpful and mannerly or not, or if you're a magic user. Though he's hypocritical, Rollo detests magic; it doesn't matter how secretly fond of you he may be. If you use magic, a large part of him will want to permanently snuff it. Only he is permitted to wield magic, as he is responsible and correct in his judgments.

He clings to pleasant things, yet it is negativity that usually pursues him, especially pleasant things that are fleeting. You are not a permanent fixture in his life. Rather, there isn't much connection between the two of you and for that reason you're more of an unobtainable prize he has yet to claim. Despite living in a city renowned for its romance, Rollo has never thought much of love (though it chews through him when he thinks of you). He was content with all that he had as a child; romance was never an inherent need. Though after the tragic loss of his brother, he's felt empty and incomplete, alone and regretful. Slowly consumed by his own grief and abhorrence. He is a shell of himself, a hollowed, inconsolable man who lives off of spite but also, ever since he met you, the brightness you bring into his gloomy life.

He cannot stand others, especially mages, and when he occasionally displays a more disgusted expression instead of his usual stony-faced look his hatred of the masses only becomes that much more visually apparent. And yet he can't bring himself to truly loathe you in the way he loathes others. When he finds himself conversing with you, he does not scowl or grumble under his breath. At first he simply thought it was because he fancied you because you were new or different or unique or interesting. Now he lives off of you like a parasite. He needs to see you. He needs to know you still exist. He needs to know you won't leave him or fall victim to the foolish whims of childish mages. And if you really did wish to leave, he certainly wouldn't make it easy. Gates are meant to keep people in, you see, and Rollo will gladly cage you if it means he can have you for himself.

A part of him is repulsed by his mounting obsession; he realizes this cannot possibly classify as the sugared love that most inhabitants within the City of Flowers dream of experiencing. But what is obsession if not another synonym for fond devotion? Surely this is justified; surely his feelings for you are understandable. He's in love! Love isn't a bad thing; he is not a bad thing. Rollo will make you see this, even if he must carve this ideal into your very being so that you'll know.

With this newfound "love" of his, thoughts spiral and snowball. Most are intrusive and unwanted reflections of the most impure sins. He looks at you like a starved man seeing a buffet for the first time in weeks. He thinks of you like you are the only one he ought to believe in. And your name tastes sweet in his mouth when he breathes it in like it's the oxygen he needs to survive. He'll chant it over and over when he works himself towards the edge of ecstasy. Sometimes, through the clearing haze of the orgasmic aftermath, he considers seeking you out to have the real thing instead of just a fleeting fantasy. There is the angel on his shoulder who tells him he ought to respect you more, who reminds him that you are not a thing but rather a human being with your own autonomy and that it wouldn't be right to strip that from you. But then there's the devil on his other shoulder who whispers filth, who is giddy at the idea of all that he could do if he just used his position as student council president to do away with the concept of choice.

Of course Rollo never listens to either. He's satisfied with the version of you he's constructed in his mind—the you who diligently waits for him in bed, the you who is so willing to spread your legs for him, the you who utters his name in gasps and sighs as it's the only thing he'll allow you to say. Rollo thinks this might just be madness or a particularly nasty curse because when you plague his thoughts—which is nearly 24/7 now—the slightest thing has him teetering on the precipice. He wants to ruin you so that no one else will be able to repair you, but he also wants to lay himself at your feet and have you card your fingers through his hair, to hear you say "there, there" and banish all that ails him. To judge him fairly and virtuously in a way that the Bell of Salvation cannot. If you could just take his hands in yours and relieve him of all the agony that has burdened him... If you could just look at him and echo his sentiments—insist upon his good nature and reward him for being a saint even though deep down he knows he is far from it—he might feel whole again.

Even devilish fiends are worthy of love, though their love is the hatred that is cast upon them by those who cannot understand or sympathize with their circumstances. Rollo toes the line between friend and fiend. He is fair, as expected of the student council president. He is forgiving, as expected of one who is held in high regard. He puts on a polite and welcoming façade. But he is arrogant and hateful and cruel. He is every bit the fiend and the friend, all wrapped into one, and since he's the only one worthy of utilizing magic he has nothing to lose when the Crimson Lotuses blossom in full. And a man who has nothing to lose is the most dangerous fiend of all.

Rollo has little room in his heart for others. No one is worthy of making a home out of his cold, barren heart. But he will warm it for you; he will create a hearth so that you may be swathed in sweetness when he brings the gavel down upon all mages and subjects them to flowery hell. And you will be there to witness the spectacle. Whoever said he didn't like the festivities of a good tradition? Ah, but taking from others is not very festive, nor is it considered good. But this is what's right. It doesn't have to be good so long as it's correct. You can cry, you can scream, you can object. But he will remain firm in his assessment. Though he fancies you, you cannot sway him on this matter. If he must chain you to him so that you can finally see his perspective from high up in the tower, then he will. And he hopes the fiery sight will scorch itself into your retinas so that you may never forget that this very magic—the magic you seem so fond of—is not as whimsical or cute as you may have initially thought.

Sometimes Rollo thinks he ought to split himself open and place you within his ribs so that you may exist as his heart, fluttery and fluffy like a little canary. Sometimes he thinks he ought to keep you within the bell tower. As its keeper, he's free to do as he pleases. No one would dare question his authority on the matter. Until he makes a suitable space for you within his room or one of the secret, shadowed passages scattered throughout Noble Bell, you will remain trapped in the tower, only permitted to see and speak with him. He frames it amiably—he's saving you, can't you see? Magic is such a potent thing, and he can't possibly lose you like he lost his little brother. He'd much sooner shatter the skeleton that supports him than let you perish.

Rollo does not force your obedience through intimidation or violence. Rather, he twists your perception with eerily skillful persuasion. Every bad thing will be framed in a positive light. This is not captivity; this is protection. This is not hell; this is heaven—or the closest you'll ever be to the skies above at this height. This is not infatuation; this is salvation. Rollo never raises his voice, nor does he raise a hand to you. He speaks softly and patiently, offering very rare smiles that are not hidden behind his celestial-patterned handkerchief. He kneels before you, holds his hands out so that you might place yours in his, and tells you that he is only doing what's best for you. Surely you must understand this. The world is dangerous. The world is unfair. The world is scary. The world devours powerless people like you and him. He knows this because he's seen it. He's lived it. He wouldn't do anything to hurt you, but keeping you here with him must be done because it's the only way he can ensure your safety. The only way he can save you.

Your confinement is what you make of it. If you wish to be difficult and disobedient, your situation and your outlook will never improve. If you wish to keep an open mind and accept the sanctuary Rollo has so generously provided for you, you will feel happier. And when he echoes this lie enough times, it will eventually become the truth. He brings you homemade meals, he brings you pastries from town, and he brings you entertainments like books and board games. He'll sit up there for hours when his schedule is cleared and play cards with you, allowing you to win so that you may feel like you've triumphed over him in some way.

And when all of Noble Bell is consumed in Crimson Lotuses, he extends his hand towards you for a waltz, his pale, sleepless features accentuated in horrible hues of orange and red. Dance with him to the sounds of suffering. Sway with him to the tolls of the Bell of Salvation as the hour of reckoning draws near. Feast your beautiful eyes on the terrors of magic and let it be a cruel reminder that there is no good to be found in malice.

Take his hand and accept him for all that he is, as he is the only mage worthy of safeguarding you with his love.

[forestknifefight]

An excerpt of MotME Chapter One. The full fic can be read here.

The moon shines high above the Roman Colosseum, a picturesque view that tourists from all over the world come to see. Muggles seek it out for its historical importance: the construction, the use, the meaning.

Witches and Wizards, particularly Italian, approach the Colosseum with reverence. A monument to some of the most ancient and vile practices Italian magic users imposed upon the mundane. The tournaments held inside this arena? Nothing more than petty entertainment the once-ruling magical class demanded.

Babbano slaughtered for the enjoyment of Maghi.

Modern Witches and Wizards find their way to the remains of this building to pay respects to those who suffered between these walls and respect the importance of the International Statute of Secrecy.

There only comes trouble on nights like these.

There’s a crack of Apparition and a figure drenched in deep, red robes stands along the edge of the amphitheater seating, its hood pulled up to conceal any sort of appearance. It leans over the edge, glaring down into the gap between the floor of the arena and the rising stands.

The figure reaches into the pocket of its robes and procures an object: a small, oval-shaped handheld mirror. A withered hand holds it carefully, pinching the sides of it to avoid touching the fourteen spikes that decorate the short edges of the thing. Seven on the top, seven on the bottom.

A red-robed arm extends over the chasm and drops the little mirror in, letting it fall deep into the pit of the Colosseum, and, with another crack, the figure in the red robe is gone.

Covered by a series of intricate wards and concealment charms performed by the International Confederation of Wizards runs the Mercury Express, a bullet train servicing the Wizarding communities of Italy, Monaco, France, and England.

At its conception in 2000, the line was intended to provide ease of transportation for continental families that wished to send their children to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Any education worthy of Harry Potter – the Boy Who Lived, the defender of the Wizarding World – was good enough for their bright young minds. It runs alongside a sister line, the Hermes Route, that trails through Eastern Europe and Germany from Athens.

“Initially,” Ron continues to read from the informational plaque displayed on the platform wall, “the train had only one departure, an overnight trip that delivered students to London an hour before the Hogwarts Express disembarked.

“However, there was enough demand for the train to run regularly from other Witches and Wizards disinterested in Floo or broom travel. Thus, two other departures were added in recent years.”

Ron’s eyes widen as he pushes out a hefty breath. He follows it with a groan and a hand on his head, easing a headache.

“What a mouthful,” he says. “You’d think Skeeter wrote this dribble.”

Harry groans as well. He can feel the thrum of a headache in his temples as he stares at the minuscule writing on the plaque. They celebrated their last night in Rome with a nice dinner, much more expensive than anything they’d had in their time in Italy. With dinner, Harry let Ron pour him multiple glasses of wine, far more than he’d drink on a normal night. He’s paying the price for it now.

“I hate that it calls me that,” he murmurs, disgruntled but determined to ignore the discomfort. “It’s been twelve years, can’t we let it go?”

Ron looks over at him and, noticing his friend’s unease, bites back a laugh. “You alright there, Harry?”

The train bellows from behind them: only fifteen minutes until departure.

Harry groans, the loud sound doing nothing to aid in his wine-induced hangover. Ron nudges him with his elbow, pulls a small metal flask from his pocket, and slips it into Harry’s hand.

“Hair of the dog, mate,” he mutters.

Harry nods and slips the flask into his pocket next to his wand.

Both men turn to face the large green engine as Hermione stands from her seat on the platform bench. She leans down and lifts a large briefcase from the brick floor of the platform.

“You know they’ll never let the name go, Harry,” she says, a lilt akin to childish ribbing in her voice. “You’ll always be the Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One.”

Harry groans, rubbing his hands over his face.

“I thought you liked being the chosen one,” Ron says, continuing the teasing.

Harry opens his mouth to offer some weak retort but before a sound can escape past his lips, someone comes up to their side.

“Pardon the interruption,” a middle-aged man says with his head bowed. He wears simple clothing: slacks, a waistcoat, and a plain button-down all beneath an open forest green robe marked with the Mercury Express’s emblem. His only display of personality is a glittering, gold neck-tie that seems to move as it shimmers. He’s English, a peculiar fact that doesn’t escape the three.

“My name is Winchel, I’m the attendant for this departure,” he continues. “We’ll be boarding now, so I must take our safeguarding measures.”

Hermione’s face twists with confusion and she turns her body to direct the briefcase away from Winchel.

Harry notes the apprehension as well, stepping partially in front of Hermione.

Inside the briefcase is a particular artefact, a powerful item found haphazardly left within the Roman Colosseum. News of the item – named the Speculo Oculus, for its small, mirror-like appearance – traveled to England quickly. The Department of Mysteries’ Peculiar Artefact Office immediately dispatched Hermione to recover the object for study. Harry and Ron were sent along as a precaution.

The Speculo Oculus is the second of its kind that has found its way across Hermione’s workbench. All that is known about this object comes from its predecessor, the Flame Wielder: these things want to be wanted and will stop at nothing to be used.

Thus, Hermione is immediately wary of Winchel. She is the safeguarding measure.

“Safeguarding measures?” Harry questions. “Like what?”

Winchel smiles politely. “We collect all wands and heavy luggage to be stored in the cargo car, Mr. Potter.”

Ron chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why do you collect wands? We’re the only three taking this train today.”

Winchel nods. A placating action. “Yes, Mr. Weasley, I do understand the uncertainty. However, there is one other passenger boarding here–” he pauses briefly to gesture further down the platform where a much older, frail-looking wizard with long mint green robes and a tall pointed hat awaits. “And we will have two more passengers boarding in Monaco.

“Be that as it may, we do prohibit wands as a safety measure,” he concludes. “Children normally take this train. You understand.”

There’s somewhat of a tense silence between the four. Winchel’s polite smile stares back at Harry’s wary disposition. The latter glances over his left shoulder at Ron once then looks over his right at Hermione.

Hermione just shrugs. If they must surrender their wands, then so be it. It’s not her wand she’s worried about.

Harry looks forward and Winchel again and offers a shrug of his own. “Fine.”

Winchel’s smile turns the slightest bit sour. “We also prohibit alcohol on the train, Mr. Potter.”

Hermione’s head whips around to face Harry at the same moment that Ron’s shoulders sheepishly climb up to his ears. She admonishes him with a call of his full name.

Harry pulls the small flask from his pocket and twists off the cap. He knocks back the whole thing, drinking down the alcohol, which he finds out very quickly to be firewhisky. He pulls the now empty flask away from his mouth with a rough cough and turns it over to prove that there is no longer any liquid in it.

Winchel’s hands clap softly in front of his chest. “Wonderful! Right this way.” He ushers the three toward the train door before calling for the other passenger, Justinus, to join them.

The passengers and Winchel step up onto the train and load directly into the passenger car. The car is nothing more than a long aisle lined with green upholstered seating, two on either side. The door at the far end of the car opens and another Mercury Express employee enters.

“Welcome aboard,” the man says. “I am the engineer, you may call me Mr. Thames should you have to.” His hand extends toward Winchel, standing near the back end of the car with a wooden box open in his hands. “Please, deposit your wands with Winchel before taking a seat.”

Harry, the first to board after Winchel, looks down at the box apprehensively before slipping his wand from its holster on his arm and dropping it into the box. He brushes past Winchel and makes his way up the aisle.

Ron steps into the car next, pulling his wand from his own holster and dropping it in the box with Harry’s. He pointedly does not look at Winchel and silently follows Harry down the aisle.

Hermione steps up next and dutifully drops her wand into the box. She begins to move past Winchel, but he stops her.

“Unfortunately, Miss Granger, we’ll need to store your luggage in the cargo car as well,” he says kindly.

Hermione looks up at him, carefully schooling the stricken look on her face. Her head turns up the aisle toward Harry and Ron who are now looking back at her. Ron shakes his head, an almost imperceptible movement, and Hermione looks back at Winchel.

“Sorry, this is a personal item; I’d like to keep it with me,” she says.

“Oh, don’t worry, Ma’am,” Mr. Thames calls from his place at the other end of the car. “Winchel and I will store it properly in our cargo car to ensure its safety.”

Harry turns to face Mr. Thames. “How can you be so sure of that?”

Mr. Thames smiles in the same polite way as Winchel. “Once the items are locked up, they cannot be opened until I unlock them with my wand. And I need my wand to operate the train, so it will be unavailable. There are no worries, trust me.” He looks past Harry to smile something encouraging at Hermione.

She takes a sharp breath and turns back to look at Winchel. She forces her breath out and kneels slightly to drop the suitcase beside the attendant's foot. She turns and follows Harry and Ron down the aisle as Justinus steps up into the car and drops their wand into Winchel’s box.

The box snaps shut and Winchel tucks it beneath his arm. He kneels to lift the briefcase into his hand and straightens to wait for Mr. Thames.

Harry and Ron settle in two seats near the front of the car, further from the train’s entrance and opposite the platform, leaving the platform-facing side for Hermione. Justinus stops in a row closer to the middle of the car, slipping into the window seat facing the platform.

Mr. Thames moves up the car, passing the four passengers quickly. He takes the box of wands and briefcase from Winchel and disappears into the next car. Winchel tugs the door to the train shut and locks it.

He moves up the aisle, using his wand to double-check that the windows are shut tightly and the empty seats are clean and clutter-free.

Ron turns in his seat, watching Winchel’s movements. He calls out to him, “Why do you get your wand, but we don’t get ours? What if you attack us?”

Hermione groans out Ron’s name, slinking into her seat like an embarrassed child.

Winchel chuckles kindly. “Mr. Weasley, I promise you, I will not be attacking you. I use my wand to attend to the needs of the passengers aboard the Mercury Express, and right now that includes you.”

Ron scoffs as Winchel continues to make his way down the aisle.

“You are in very safe hands with me.”

As Winchel approaches Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s row, the far door to the car opens and Mr. Thames rejoins them. He shuts the door to the car behind him and claps heartily. He moves down the aisle with a jaunty step.

Winchel takes a position next to the door leading into the next car. He stands there at attention, waiting for instruction of some kind.

Mr. Thames stops at the next door and turns to address the four passengers.

“Again, Welcome aboard the Mercury Express,” he says. “We have two stops on this route – one in Monaco at half past ten where two more will join us, and then one in Bordeaux at a quarter to one – before we reach our final stop at King’s Cross station in London at about five before three this afternoon.

“I promise you all are in great hands here with Winchel, he is one of the best I’ve ever worked with. He’s a very talented attendant, and, should you request it, can fully disillusion himself to avoid any disruptions.”

“Do it now,” Ron interrupts.

Hermione reaches across the aisle to swat at Ron’s arm, scolding him lightly.

Harry even nudges his friend slightly, a quiet insistence that Ron stop antagonizing Winchel.

Winchel and Mr. Thames both smile politely. As the latter turns around to leave the passenger car, the former speaks quietly.

“Lunch will be served at 11:45 precisely,” he says. “I’ll bring something for you, Mr. Thames, at a quarter past noon if you would be so kind as to open the engine.”

“Of course!” Mr. Thames says as he disappears once more.

There’s a long, pregnant lull in the car after he leaves. Ron adjusts in his seat, looking to get a bit more comfortable before turning on Winchel.

“You can’t open the engine?”

Harry stifles a small laugh, but Hermione can’t even find it in herself to make any sort of disappointed noise. Winchel only smiles.

“Mr. Thames’ wand is needed to open the engine door,” Winchel’s hand comes up to stop Ron as the ginger’s mouth opens to comment. “The door is very sturdy and completely soundproof.” Both hands return behind his back as he and Ron stare at one another.

[icedcoffeeandsunshine]

Could you do a sting eucliffe character analysis?

hello and yes ofc i can! i’m so sorry this took so long to respond to, i’ve had board exams so it’s a little bit all over the place 😅 but i hope you like!

Sting Eucliffe Character Analysis - Requested

CANON ANALYSIS

one word to describe this man ; COCKY.

but sliightly lesser so after the events of the grand magic games.

sting is definitely sometimes overconfident and arrogant however he does have an insecure side to him, as seen specifically during the alvarez arc. from believing in fighting to win, after the gmg arc, sting has been influenced to fight for his comrades and not just for the sake of that sense of victory. he also has seemingly gotten rid of his sadistic side (displayed when minerva beat lucy). throughout the anime, it’s made clear that he’s developed a caring, empathetic, protective and cheerful nature towards others and also feels a sense of responsibility as the master of his guild.

MY HEADCANONS FOR THEM

in my version of events, rogue becomes guild master instead of sting, i really feel like sting wasn’t fully mentally prepared for the responsibilities and the challenges that come with holding that title.

or maybe both become co-masters, to balance it out?

sting doesn’t like wearing full shirts (like fully covered) simply because he feels hot (temperature wise) in them, so he wears crop tops

a modern au! one is people come up to him randomly on the street and ask if he’s a kpop idol because dude literally looks like one

OH a cute one is that sting has an earring collection for his piercing but the crystalline one was a gift from weisslogia so that’s why he wears that specific one most of the time (fav one tbh)

i think sting either has some sort of adhd or is just hyperactive in general honestly

in my version of events yet again, sting is not natsu 2.0 because he’s taller one natsu is enough

i don’t think i have much for him? more so for rogue honestly, i find him to be much more interesting (don’t @ me i have a thing for broody dark haired emo-ish men)

STING IN LOVE + FRIENDSHIP

since sting is kind of insecure, i think he’s gonna have some form of communication or commitment issues simply because of his negative thoughts (“everyone’s gonna leave me one day etc”)

his love language is definitely words of affirmation

i think he’d be super protective of his loved ones

again, the insecurity plays in with when someone he loves gets hurt, he’d blame himself for not protecting them or not being strong enough to protect themselves

otherwise, this man is quite confident and low-key horny most of the time

ithink he’s like a best-friend type of lover, in the sense that the relationship would be easygoing fun and serious but at the same time unserious if that makes sense

he is, and i know i’ve said this word 25757 times but COCKY however will be the softest, sweetest, most caring boy if he truly loves you.

WHO DO I SHIP THEM WITH?

though i definitely think minerva is attracted to women, stinerva as a ship kinda makes sense to me, it works wayy better than rogue and minerva. stingyu isn’t my cup of tea really.

stings heart yearns for natsu so honorary mention to stingsu here.

as for stingue, i can see the appeal but at the same time they just give me very brotherly vibes and as someone on tumblr mentioned (can’t remember the user) i ship stingue PLATONICALLY in a context that doesn’t stem from homophobia.

sting x gray is a funny crackship honestly.

but overall i don’t think i ship sting (atleast concretely) with anyone really. i forgot to mention in my headcanons but he really just strikes me as either aroace or demisexual/ demiromnatic or JUST simply not actively looking for a relationship or a partner.

PERSONAL OPINION ABOUT THE CHARACTER

it’s not that i dislike sting but i used to find him somewhat annoying and a rip off natsu and in some aspects, i still think the same but his character development was one of the better written ones in the series. personality aside, he’s one of the hottest characters in fairy tail. he’s not my favourite character but he’s not bad either? i just want him to not be natsu 2.0-esque honestly, that’s one thing i cannot get out of my mind.



[dungeonmalcontent]

It is not quite midnight, but I have a dark story to tell. A tale of love, and omen, and death. It arrived last night just past the witching hour, carried aloft by the wings of an exhausted creature made blurry by the night.

Gather round, little darklings. Come closer, share with me your ears.

It's story time.

The story of...

A Ring Well Worn

Ring chains had been a fantastic arcane device for their time. It was a simple magical item made with fairly cheap materials and that allowed a great degree of freedom to communicate. They were, and still are, as thus: a two and a half inch metal chain (often of precious or semiprecious metal) with a steel ring on each end of the chain. One ring, the smaller one, was to be threaded through a piercing in the ear (either the right or left, it didn't matter which). The larger one would dangle from the other end of the chain. The ring chains would be inserted into the piercing and left until the magic imbued in the item resonated with the user, after which point they could be used to communicate with another creature that had attenuated with another ring chain from the same set (ring chains were always produced in an identical set, as small as two or as large as a hundred). To communicate through a ring chain the wearer would slip their little finger through the dangling ring, cup that hand, and hold their cupped hand to the ear adorned with the ring chain. You could initiate a call with another attenuated creature by assuming the calling position and saying the intended recipient's name three times. If you were the intended recipient, you would hear the chain tinkle and jingle on your ear (in all other scenarios the chain would be completely silent). Communication across ring chains would have to be spoken aloud, and would be heard from the cupped hand of the recipient.

It was a fairly useful invention. But then ioe transmitter stones were invented. They served much the same purpose but did not have to be set into a piercing and could communicate with other ioe transmitter stones regardless of when they were made. A significant improvement and a much more versatile item.

Your own ioe stone is a rather lovely piece of artificial gemstone; a small blue sapphire encased in clear leaded crystal. And Henry's was rather plain. He had been late to the trend, and selected a rough cut stone with a graphite color. Everyone's ioe stone hovered in the air just behind their ear, kept in place with an arcane telekinetic bond. You could almost completely ignore that Henry even had one because it blended into his silver and dark gray hair almost perfectly. What truly stood out with Henry was his ring chain.

It was one of the first things you had noticed about him. He always had the ring chain on. And he used it regularly too. He'd get frequent calls, which he claimed were from a colleague he'd made a strong connection with at his last job. He never said their name, but you had always guessed they were a woman. He'd take her calls no matter what. You could see his head twitch in that familiar way from across a room, adjusting to be sure he'd actually heard the chain rattle. And you had overheard some conversations, at least his end of them, he was always reassuring her that she was where she was meant to be. She had risen to her station rightfully. That no one would ever take her place. There would be long pauses when he'd just be standing there with his hand to his ear, and you know he was listening to her talk because he had this look on his face like nothing else was important.

It was uncomfortable to listen-in much. You would get the same feeling as if you were watching any other public display of affection. But your curiosity would always pique after leaving it alone for too long. Still, I was almost like intruding on an intimate moment.

You and Henry worked together in the city clerical office for nearly fifteen years. His frequent, multiple times a day, ring chain calls were persistent for that whole time. And they had only ever grown more regular.

After one day where calls had been frequent and erratic, you suggested that he take the day off and pay his friend a visit. But he merely responded that she didn't live in the area anymore.

And fourteen years after you met Henry, he passed away. He died at work, no less. Dutiful man he was, he'd even finished his last assignment before passing from some kind of neurological failure. An investigating mage had called it a "psychophysical lapse." It seemed that his brain had just turned off. Nothing else to it.

And after everything was taken care of and services were held and your boss was starting to look for someone to replace Henry in the office, you were asked to clean out his desk.

And you found it in a drawer.

The ring chain.

You hadn't even noticed that it wasn't on his ear when he died. And you figured, if Henry was as close as he was to this woman he had been talking to for years--for as long as you'd known him at least--as you thought, surely she deserved to know what had happened.

So you put it on.

It wasn't your first time using a ring chain. Your mother had purchased a set when you were young to try and keep an eye on you and let you connect to her in emergencies. But this felt wrong in a different way. It wasn't that you weren't used to it, but it felt like–it felt like wearing a dead man's wedding band. Like slipping into bed with another person's partner. It was the device itself, it was what it represented.

But Henry's ring never rang. The chain never tinkled. A call never came. You waited three days after attenuating. But there was nothing. And you didn't know her name, because somehow Henry had never called her himself. And whenever he talked to her he always stepped out of a room.

Moreover, whoever it was on the other end wouldn't know your name. So of course they couldn't ring you. It just felt like, for some reason, that would have worked. Something about how you felt when you adjusted to the magic of it had left the feeling in your gut that it would work. But you couldn't tell why.

No one else seemed to know either, about the ring or the caller. And you actually asked around too. Not your boss. Not the secretary at the front of the city offices. Not the baker at the cafe you'd frequented with Henry many times over the years. Not your mutual friends. Not even Henry's sister. In fact his sister seemed surprised to learn that he had used a ring chain at all when he'd been one of the first people she knew to get an ioe stone. And that was when you grew suspicious.

Had Henry invented this friend that only he could contact as an excuse to take frequent breaks at work? That would have been brilliant. But it wouldn't have fit. Hery loved his job. Hell, he had died working, he wasn't the type to make up an excuse to stop doing his job.

Your suspicion led you to a private mage. The kind that was paid to follow unfaithful spouses and find lost or stolen documents. An odd sort, but reliable. You had the ring chain assessed. And the mage's spelsl revealed that the chain was part of a pair; a private set commissioned for a husband and his wife. It was quite old and elaborately designed, as well. You hadn't noticed before, despite wearing it, that the rings were inlaid with a series of gemstones and carried extremely fine arcane text. But now you knew why it felt like it had to work. Because it would have. A quirk of being part of a two piece set, it didn't matter who used them they could only ever connect to the other ring.

But then there was the writing.

The mage couldn't decipher most of it, but he gave you one vital thing: a tracking pendulum.

The pendulum could be used to track the other part of the pair, since each chain in a set is virtually identical. With the one chain on, all you had to do was hold the pendulum over a map of the city. If the pendulum didn't move on its own when you moved your hand, the target was beyond the reach of the map. If the pendulum shifted when you moved your hand, it would shift so that it pointed to the matching chain.

You were relieved to have it point somewhere in town, even if it was the omen church. It was still a church, even if they also dabbled in some abyssal mysticism. There were still sermons about virtues and the dangers of vice. There were still holy folk there, good holy folk. There was even a consecrated graveyard. Surely there would be someone there that would answer the chain.

First impressions were not favorable.

The omen church had a handful of monks with ioe stones, but that was it. And even while walking among the church grounds, your pendulum wouldn't point to anyone as it ought to have done if they had the matching chain on them. You tried for hours, nervously holding the pendulum up as acolyte after acolyte passed by. But it did point to the graveyard, and by then your morbid curiosity wouldn't let you leave. It brought you to an unnamed grave in an old portion of the greens. An old cypress tree was growing over the long worn headstone.

This wasn't even the graveyard where Henry was buried. This wasn't his grave. There was very little chance that he even knew whoever was buried there, he was from out of town. He'd moved to the city with his sister to help support her in her work.

But your curiosity has taken you this far. It has driven you to madness. It has driven you to dig.

And you dug. You dug until your hands were sore. You dug deep down. Just deep enough to uncover a casket with a clunk of your muddy shovel. And you could feel the anxiety of whatever fierce grim guarded these grounds. You could feel their watching presence right up until you popped that casket open.

Suddenly you were alone.

All alone.

Just the two of you.

You and your living body with skin and blood. And her. Her with those vacant eye sockets, her shriveled skin, her missing teeth, her cracked sternum, her coloration of rust. Her and her ring chain held in the hand of one crossed arm.

And as you stand there, looking at her you hear a tinkling noise like a tiny wind chime in your ea. And, instinctively, you hook your little finger through the hoop and cup your hand and put it up to your ear.

And you hear a woman's voice echo from the ring chain, "Will you love me too? Will you love me just like Henry did?"

You see the shriveled jaw twitch just a fraction of an inch. You see the empty rib cage rise and fall almost imperceptibly. You smell the moldy breath as it brushes past the side of your face.

And you hear her voice again, this time calling you by name, cooing, "will you love me, John? Will you love me like I loved Henry? Will you love me… to death?"

[angel-zophiel]

Hi, could you write something about Jean Paul Valley again? I have an idea this time, but you can do a freestyle, I don't mind. What JPV's daily life is like with his partner (who is a homo magi or just a regular magic user) and his cat (I need George in this). You know, sometimes I like to think about what his life is like when he doesn't have to run around Gotham as Azrael. As always, I wish you a good day/evening and lots of ideas, take care!! ☺️🌷

"God it smells so good!" You groaned under your breath as the gentle fragrance of dinner wafted into your room. You quickly abandoned the work you had been attending to and followed the scent towards the kitchen, and that was where you found Jean-Paul in his most natural state. He was leaned slightly over the counter with his hair pulled up. "What are you cooking?" He whipped his head back, having embarrassingly been caught by surprise.

He smiled upon seeing you there and nodded, "Why, does it smell good?"

You scoffed and nodded before hopping up onto the counter, letting your legs dangle off the side.

"Had I known you could cook I would've put a ring on you when we met." He laughed this time and turned back towards the stove.

"Had I known you were so fond of food, I would've brought you meals instead of flowers." He turned the burner up and walked towards the fridge, rummaging around for whatever else it was he felt he needed.

As if being summoned by the glorious concoction Jean was cooking as well, George, Jean's kitten wandered into the room, meowing loudly as he did so. Since he had been found on the street, George had always been a screamer. You liked to joke that he just had a lot to say, but the jokes would become less funny at 4am when the kitten would interrupt your oh-so-beloved rest. "Yes, pumpkin?" Jean called, closing the fridge with the butter in hand, "Are you hungry?" Instead, George ignored him and walked over to the counter you were sitting on, rubbing against your dangling legs. "Oh, now he has favorites." Jean feigned. "Of course he does. Look at me." Jean rolled his eyes and turned back towards the stove. "You know George, I brought you here." To which the kitten yelled in reply.

You barked out a laugh before waving your hand in a circular motion, causing the kitten to levitate into the air. He slowly drifted upwards until he landed softly in your lap.

"Tada!" You exclaimed to the kitten, giving him playful little jazz hands. Jean smiled at your childish display. "George told me that he thought it was great." "Wasn't it?" You cooed, sliding your hand slowly past the side of your head cockily. Jean shrugged, doubling back on his compliment.

"Well, I think it was a little basic but, you know, good enough for the cat I guess." "Don't try to humble me." You quipped. George curled into your lap as you gently stroked his fur, combing behind his ears and down to his tail. The room and ambiance were far too comfortable for you to return back to your work, so you decided to forgo it and just watch Jean finish cooking the rest of the meal, "Oh also," You said, the memory of a previous conversation popping back into your mind, "How is Kevin?" You asked, eyes glued onto the now-purring kitten in your lap. "Kevin?" I dont know any...kevins..." His looked shifted to one of recognition,"Oh! At the hospice." He let out a short sigh. "Oh, that doesn't sound like it's anything good." You grabbed one of the bananas that rested on the counter beside you and began to peel it.

"Its not." He lowered the heat and put a lid on the pot before turning to face you, arms crossed in resignation. "I cant be that upset though, I mean-" He shook his head as he remembered just how upset he had been over the loss of one of his patients, "Its a hospice. People are sent there to die, and yet I feel as if I- if I were to just- I don't know, do better? I could save them. Everyone that comes in there is just so..." Jean's grip loosened and his hands dropped, grabbing onto the counter behind him, "resigned to dying."

He sighed before tilting his head to the side, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. "So yeah. Kevin's gone." "That just sounds hard doll." You said heartfully, your attention now given to him fully. "You know this, probably better than most others, but you can't save everyone." You comforted. His entire life, day and night was essentially dedicated to saving others. Be it as Azrael or Jean Paul, and yet at times it seemed he struggled more with the people at the Hospice than he did when the countless goons of the city shot round after round at him. Because when he was with the goons, it was Azrael who had to handle everything. But at the hospice, it was just Jean-Paul. And it was just Jean-Paul that had to watch as soul after soul was brought there, waiting to die. Losing someone as Azrael never hurt as much as they did, because when it was Azrael he could justify to himself that he did his best. But the Hospice was out of his control. He couldn't help them, only try to make them as comfortable as possible.

"I don't know.." He trailed off. Shaking his head slightly he looked back up at you grinning, "But if you're looking for good news, foods ready."