#ordered a brooch off of there once

[77gigabytes]

The Fox's Den {Sylus x Reader}

This just kinda...spilled out of my brain... It started off as a few paragraphs and then spiraled into this, but uh, enjoy.

FAIR WARNING!!! THIS IS INCREDIBLY LONG, I MIGHT HAVE TO SPLIT IT INTO PARTS ACTUALLY IDK

|| Masterlist ||

-Seven

You’re finishing some paperwork at HQ when Jenna slides a manila folder on your desk.

“Advance tech labs has another mission for you.” She says and crosses her arms over her chest, “Hear them out first. Then go take a look.”

As if on cue, your watch beeps with a notification.

You click on it and the mission’s user interface window pops up.

Client: Unspecified - Investigative mission Status: ACTIVE Authorisation: Approved entry - No Hunt Zones: 105, 106, 107, 108

Task details: High-class Linkon residents have been seen carrying protocores to Fox’s Den, a host club, on the outskirts of Linkon. There are suspicions that the club is being used as a trading venue to sell and modify high-grade protocores into the N109 zone.

Objective: INVESTIGATE Fox’s Den FOR PROTOCORE SMUGGLERS. DO NOT ENGAGE OR ELIMINATE SUSPECTS. THIS IS AN INVESTIGATION ONLY.

As you re-read the objectives, Jenna speaks once more, “Have a look through this folder before heading to the Data Sector. ” She places her hand above the folder, “Nero and Tara are waiting there with some more information for you.”

You give her a small nod, “Yes, Captain. Will do.”

You do as you’re told and flick through the contents of the folder.

“Huh, the address is near the N109 zone?” You whisper.

Sylus has a safe house near there, I think.

It’ll be easier to complete the mission if you could crash there every now and then.

I’ll ask him when I have the chance.

There’s a few photos of the club tucked into the folder and from what you can see, it’s quite luxurious.

Entering the club shouldn’t be a problem with the brooch Sylus gave me. Hmmm. I might need to visit Jeremiah some time soon to forge another identity.

You sift through a few more pages and a photo catches your eye. It’s of a blonde woman with a hunter’s uniform and badge but stamped across the page is the word ‘TENEBRA’ in bold red lettering.

“Hmmm,” You hum as you read the sticky note attached, “If encountered, detain immediately? Who is this?”

What had she done to be labelled a Tenebra?

With that thought in mind, you think to your own situation.

Your involvement with Sylus is more than enough grounds to label you a Tenebra, but you brush that thought aside quickly.

“MC?”

Your head perks up from the sound of your name and you quickly press the folder to your chest, “Oh! Tara… Nero. I was just leaving to see you guys, actually.”

“About the case, right? Isn’t it interesting?” Tara grins, “But, yes we came here instead because Nero thinks that the Data Sector is too noisy.”

“They’re blabbing about all the time, it’s dizzying.” He retorts.

He pulls a nearby chair and motions for the two of you to come around, “Come, we’ve got work to do.”

The three of you discuss the case for a while until you ask, “Why am I being sent alone? Aren’t mission usually done in pairs?”

“Yes, well… Technically, it’s only an investigative mission, so the higher-ups don’t think we should waste resources on a mere investigation.” Nero makes quotation marks with his fingers. “You’ve got orders not to engage where possible.”

Tara leans forward to argue, “But even still, Fox’s Den is surrounded by no hunt zones! Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Yes, that’s true, and speaking of which…” He opens some tabs up on his laptop, “As I’m sure you’ve seen, you’ve been approved access to all no hunt zones surrounding the area.”

You nod, looking back at your watch and also the map that spread across the table.

“But that’s not the problem.” Nero continues, “The problem is getting into the club.”

You furrow your brows, “What?” You tilt you head, “Can’t I just go in as a client?”

He clicks his tongue, “They’ve got a very specific clientele.” He says and then draws a rectangle with his fingers, “Invite only.” He emphasises. “Did you think you could just waltz into the place?Everyday?”

You tense for a moment. I thought… with the brooch...

But you can’t tell them about the brooch; They’ll ask you how you got it. So you settle with, “I- well,” you scratch your temple, “I haven’t really thought that far yet.”

...

Your meeting with the two ended just as the sun dipped completely below the horizon

Somehow, they’ve got you a position as one of the hostesses.

You huff. You don’t know a thing about being a hostess.

To be fair, being a hostess would give you the widest variety of intel.

Never had you thought you’d be going undercover like this, but the job must be done, you suppose.

You harshly tug your helmet on and head to Sylus’ safe house on your 270HM.

If he says no, then you can just scout the area on the way back home. That way, the ride there wouldn’t have been for nothing.

“Oh! There you are, little miss hunter.”

You turn around at the voice of one of the twins. “Luke, Kieran?”

“Mephisto told us you’d be here.” Kieran says pointing to the sky where Mephisto circles above the three of you.

“Is Sylus-”

Luke responds before you can finish your question, “The boss has a important business deal, but,”

“You’re more than welcome to stay with us in the meantime.” Kieran finishes the sentence as he opens the gate.

You can almost see the grin behind his mask.

“How long will he be gone?” You ask as you walk with the twins into the house.

“It might not even be until tomorrow that you’ll see the boss.”

“If you’re lucky--” Luke starts

“--I’ve checked your luck index today, miss, you’re not.”

“Kieran!” You smack him on the shoulder

“Anyway,” Luke starts again, “As I was saying, if you’re lucky, he might be done by midnight.”

…

Well now, it’s way past midnight and the boys have convinced you to play card games as you wait. From old maid, to kitty cards, to Big 2.

Eventually, they pull out another deck of cards with haphazardly drawn crows. - “We’ve invented our own version!”

Your brows furrow.

“Crow Cards!” They say in unison.

You’re speechless. You shake your head with a chuckle, but oblige them regardless.

It isn’t long before Kieran has passed out on the couch and you can tell that Luke isn’t too far either.

“Luke, why don’t we get you and your brother to sleep?” You suggest.

“Yeah,” He yawns and give you a nod, “but Kieran can sleep here on the floor.” He snorts, but goes to haul him up anyways.

“I can use one of the spare rooms, right?” You ask

“Of course. The boss has even gotten spare clothes specifically for you in every house. They should just be in the closet of the en suite.” He points to one of the doors, “That one is your room.”

It didn’t take very long after your head hit the pillows that you drifted off into a shallow sleep

Just as the sunlight begins peaking through the horizon, Sylus enters into the safehouse

Mephisto is cawing at him incessantly.

“What has you so worked up?” He frowns.

“CAW!”

Sylus walks through to the main area and sees cards strewn across the floor.

He examines them, seeing the poorly drawn crows, and looks to Mephisto, “What?” Sylus raises an eyebrow at Mephisto, “You led me here because Luke and Kieran made you look like roadkill on these cards?”

Mephisto shakes his head and pecks the cards out of Sylus’ hand. He pitter-patters to the door of the en suite and lightly pecks at it

Sylus’ frown deepens but he follows after him.

And there you were - laying on your stomach atop the sheets.

He lets out a small chuckle, “Tsk tsk, kitten,” he shakes his head, “You’ll catch a cold at this rate.”

He gently turns you so he can lift you up into his arms.

With his Evol, he untucks the sheets and lays down with you in his arms.

You have your head on his chest and legs entangled with his own.

With all the movement, you lift your head blink your eyes open, “Hi.” You whisper.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, kitten.”

You plop your head back down onto his chest, “Yeah, I wanted-” you yawn, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh? You’re asking me for a favour? How unusual.”

You only hum in response and close your eyes again.

For a moment, he thinks that seeing you in the sunrise makes the sunlight a little more bearable.

“What is it that you need, sweetie?” he asks, brushing his lips against the top of your head.

“The location of my mission is near this house.”

“And?” he shoots you a smug smile, “What is it exactly that you’re asking, Dove?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “I’m asking if I can stay here for a little while.”

He chuckles and gently swipes at the space between your brows, “Do you know what you look like right now?” he asks, “A kitten with a temper.”

You untangle yourself from his grasp, “Screw you.”

It quite futile since you end up in his arms once more.

“What mission is so important that the hunter’s association would send you into the N109 zone?” He asks.

“One,” You put your pointer finger up, “It's near the N109 zone. And two,” You lift another finger, “Apparently, there’s some shady trading of high-grade protocores.”

“Hah, when is there not?” He chuckles.

You quickly brush his question aside, “But you’ll let me stay, won’t you?” You pout for good measure.

“I never trade for a loss, dove.” He taps a finger on his temple. “What are you planning to give me in exchange?”

“Um…” You contemplate on the question. “I'll trade any protocores I find that I think may be of use to you?” Your intonation makes it sound more like a question than a statement.

“What makes you think that I don’t already have access to such protocores, sweetheart?” He shifts to lay on his side with his head propped up by his arm.

That’s true. What could you possibly offer to a man who already has everything in the palm of his hand?

You glance up at him, “Well, then… truthfully, there’s nothing I can give you.”

I guess he won’t let me stay after all.

One of the corners of his lips tilt upwards into a smirk, “There is…” he pauses as he procures a piece of paper with his Evol, “Something you can give me.”

You take the paper and frown as you read the contents, “Isn’t this that restaurant by the river? The one with the orchids?”

“Mmm.” He hums in agreement.

“What could I possibly give you there, Sylus?” You ask

He chuckles, “Well, it’s quite simple, really.” He leans forward to whisper in your ear, “I want you to stay with me… Until the moon is high above our heads”

His voice is so close to your ears that you have to turn away

“I want your time.”

A few days have gone by since your…encounter with Sylus.

Now you’re face-to-face with the owner of the club.

He has his hand grabbing the lower half of your face, turning it side to side.

You grit your teeth. Keep it together for the mission, MC. You say to yourself.

“She’ll fetch a hefty price from the clients, that’s for sure.” He chuckles

He almost throws you towards a woman who has a comb and spray bottle in hand.

“Another?” She asks

“Get her ready.” He says as he begins to walk towards the bar where the guests are, “I want her ready for service by the end of the week, Stella.”

The woman, Stella, as you’ve learned, rolls her eyes and grabs you by the arm.

She drags you across to one of the clothing racks and pulls various clothes up to your body. She takes some off, and others she returns.

Your eyes wander as you stay still, and for a brief moment, you see a blonde woman in a red dress, strutting towards the exit.

“Tenebra?” You mumble

“What?” Stella raises her brow.

“Huh? Oh, I was asking If I’ll need to wear a bra.” You gulp hoping she’ll believe your cover-up

She stares at you for a moment but then continues to find you a dress.

After a while, she’s finished with your make up and has given you a run-down of the rules.

“For tonight, you’ll be staying with me.” She says as she walks towards the exit

You scramble after her. You barely catch yourself from bumping into her as she abruptly turns around to address you.

“Keep close and don’t wander. Do you understand?”

You nod, “Yes.”

She wraps a red band across your wrist with ease, “This bracelet means that you’re off limits for the mean time.” She grips your wrist and squeezes, “So I suggest you keep it on your wrist even if your life depends on it. You won’t have this luxury for long.”

What have I gotten myself into?

You spend that night observing each and every one of the hostesses and clients.

Memorising faces, names, voices. Anything.

As the week ends, you’re back at the safe house trying to piece all the information you have so far.

You’re hunched over the coffee table with papers scattered about. Some of which you’ve scrunched up and have unintentionally made into Mephisto’s playthings.

You huff.

Everything looks normal, but clearly that’s not the case if HA has sent you here. They wouldn’t have sent you here if there wasn’t some concrete evidence of a covert operation.

Sylus stops cleaning his gun and smiles as you frown. The bastard.

You huff once more and rub your temples.

“You look as if you’re going into a grand battle.” He chuckles and leans back into the sofa.

“I feel like I’ve gotten nowhere!” You throw your hands into the air.

He carefully returns the gun to it’s case and settles himself on the floor next to you, “Talk to me.” He pulls the pen from your hands and spreads the papers across the table, “We can figure it out together.” He glances at you with the smallest of smiles.

A couple of weeks have gone by and you’ve gotten better at acting as a hostess.

You find that a lot of these clients have a very loose lips - ever so willing to give information with so little incentive

Today, you’re cozied up with a client, your legs in their lap, and an arm wrapped around one of theirs.

You grin internally as he continues to talk about all the protocores he could offer you.

“Oh?” You say sultrily, drawing circles on his arm.

YUCK

“Oh, I do, baby.”

EUUUGHHH

You’re trying your best to suppress a scowl.

“I could give you all -”

You glance up at him as he stops mid-sentence.

Your gaze shifts from his face to the mirror behind him where your eyes meet Sylus’s intense gaze.

What is he going here?

Sylus nonchalantly walks over to the two of you and the room has gone still.

“And who might this be, sweetie?” He glowers at the man, but his question is directed to you.

You open your mouth to reply, but the man beat you to it, “Mr Sylus, I’m-”

"I didn’t ask you.” He says sharply.

“Sylus, what are you doing here?” Your grip around the man loosens and you quickly shift your legs to plant your heels on the floor.

“Well… Sweetie.” He emphasises the endearment as he pulls you from the other man’s lap, “I’m here for you,” He pulls you to his chest

Without another word, he tugs you into one of the private rooms.

With the momentum, you fall to the loveseat in the middle of the room.

“Sylus!”

“When you said you had a mission here, I assumed you were going in as a client.” He locks the door and makes his way to you, “Not a hostess.” He narrows his eyes as he traps you between his outstretched arms on the loveseat.

“Why does it matter?” You glare back at him, “I’m still getting the information I need.”

“You realise that I could get you all that information in the blink of an eye, right?”

You know that. You do. He never lets you forget. Head of Onychinus. King of the N109 zone.

But what does that say about you?

Always relying on someone else to do things.

Always relying on Xavier on missions. Even Rafayel helped you at The Nest. Zayne’s always taking care of your health, and now Sylus, too.

When had you ever truly done anything yourself?

You grit your teeth, “Look.” You say as you muster up all your courage to glare at him, “I appreciate the help, but I’m not some dove that needs saving.” You push at his chest, “I can do this on my own.”

He yields as you push him until both of you are standing.

“I can’t just rely on you for everything,” You say.

Tenebra - the word plants itself at the forefront of your mind

His chest heaves as he looks at you, but he doesn’t speak.

“What am I supposed to say to the association?” You walk towards the door but look back at him with a soft smile, “They’ll label me a Tenebra for even breathing the same air as you, remember? We can’t have that now, can we?”

He takes a hold of your wrist. “You know I’d never let that happen.”

“Mmm.” You shake your head, “I know, but even then… I want to be able to proudly say that I was able to do a mission with my own strength.”

He doesn’t say anything, so you shrug your hand away from his hold.

“So,” You place you hand on the door knob, “Let me do this on my own, Sylus.”

As you leave, he deflates onto the loveseat with a sigh.

As much as it stings that you don’t want to rely on him, he understands what you’re trying to say.

You’ve gone many days without seeing Sylus, not even at the safe house.

At the host club, you return to your dressing room with the brightest smile, you’d think your face would split in half.

That drunk client spilled all the beans. They are smuggling protocores through this host club. He mentioned a warehouse south from here, in the no hunt zone. Luckily Jenna authorised your entry into that zone. You’ll have to check it out after you leave the club.

As you exit, your watch beeps, “Huh? Wanderers? This far from the no hunt zone?”

Your hands settle at the hilts of your hands guns strapped to either thigh.

With vigilant eyes, you scan your surroundings. Trees upon trees in every direction.

Taking soft and steady steps, you head deeper into the no hunt zone.

Eventually you see lights scattered throughout the tree line.

There’s a large building stood in the centre of the clearing.

As you walk closer, you hear voices. “The warehouse.” you whisper.

Then a truck whizzes past and you duck for fear of getting caught.

It drives far into the warehouse and you follow around to get a clearer view.

They seem like specs from this distance, but they’re unloading the protocores from the truck.

The impatient part of you screams to just sneak into the warehouse.

But that fire is quickly extinguished when you notice a few men patrolling the warehouse.

“I need to come back another time. With a plan.”

The next few days you observe the schedules and their protocol for receiving deliveries

You manage to sneak your way into one of the trucks as your shift ends at the host club.

In the truck, you’re shallowly breathing from the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You close your eyes to take a deep breath as the truck slows to a stop.

“This is the last one for today, boys. Let’s do this quick!” You hear a man shout.

Your hand comes up to press at your sternum. Your heart is beating right out of your chest so much so that blood is thumping in your ears.

“You think we’ve got some aether cores to sell today?”

“Tch, I wish.”

As their footsteps grow louder, you take a slow breath-

BEEP BEEP!

You gasp as your hunter’s watch detects wanderers nearby. You grasp at your wrist to dampen the noise. Hunching over, cradling your arm as it beeps again.

STOP! Please!

“What was that?”

What do I do? I’m going to get caught.

“Check it out.”

Think. Think.

From their footsteps, you can tell one of the men has walked into the truck.

THINK!

You don’t have a choice.

With a grunt, you charge at the man, shooting him in the chest, before hauling his body to cover yours as you exit the vehicle.

“INTRUDER!” the other man yells. “INTRUDER! LOCK EVERYTHING DOWN.”

Sirens blare as shots are fired in your direction. One lodges itself into your thigh. With a scream you dump the body shield and limp as best as you can out of the crossfire.

Another shot whizzes past the side of your arm. Another into your lower abdomen as you turn to shoot at them.

Before you make it to the forest, a loud roar shakes the ground and you stumble onto all fours.

A wanderer. A Hoarfrost Wyrmlord, you recognise.

It stomps it’s way towards the warehouse, likely drawn in by all the noise.

You scramble away as best as you can, but behind you are the men from the warehouse.

Your breaths have become rapid and shallow, “Where…”

The Wyrmlord locks onto you, blowing out gusts of air from it’s nostrils.

You begin shooting at the Wyrmlord but it looks unphased.

You duck for cover as it shoot icicles your way.

Protocores. You think. “You must have a shield somewhere.” you say as you peak over the metal pillar.

“You!” A foreign voice takes your attention.

The man has his gun pointed to you.

Swiftly, you kick your leg out in an attempt to disarm him, but he catches it and kicks at your other leg so that you land face first into the dirt.

For a few moments, you wrestle him until he’s got you in a choke hold.

You elbow him in his side and as his grip loosens you try to swing him over your shoulder.

But he uses the momentum to kick off of the pillar, and the action flings you backwards, and your back hits the ground with a thud.

You grunt and struggle to stand.

Before you can shoot him, a Harte Knave slashes through him.

Just as quickly, your bullets pierce though the Harte Knave and it disintegrates in dust.

Another roar shakes the ground as you and many others are pulled into a protofield.

“No!” You scream.

“Sylus!” You yell into the air.

Hoping, praying that he just might appear out of thin air.

...

“CAW!”

Meanwhile, Sylus is seated in another safehouse.

His leg is bouncing up and down.

You should have returned to the safe house hours ago, but there has been no notification of your arrival from the security system.

For every centimetre the moon rose into the sky, so did his worry.

“I appreciate the help, but I’m not some dove that needs saving.”

Your words echoed around in his mind for the past few hours.

“I can do this on my own.”

He knows that. You’re strong. He’s seen it.

“They’ll label me a Tenebra for even breathing the same air as you, remember?“

Tch.

“I can’t just rely on you for everything,”

But something was wrong.

His intuition never failed him.

“CAW! CAW!”

“Mephisto.” Sylus quickly stands and stretches his hand out for Mephisto to land on.

A holographic video pops up and Sylus sees you dropping the lifeless body and limping away into the tree line.

The screen flickers for a moment as you scream his name before you disappear into the protofield.

Even before the video ends, Sylus is rushing out to his motorcycle. He pulls up the coordinates from Mephisto’s previous location history and speeds away.

Why did I leave her by herself? Near the N109 zone nonetheless. I’m a fool.

In the protofield, the Wyrmlord is the last wanderer.

There are only a few other humans left and luckily, the Wyrmlord is beginning to stagger too.

You’ve managed to break it’s shields but you’re heavily wounded and the Wyrmlord has caused the temperature to drop so rapidly that it’s difficult to even pull the trigger.

Sylus… Please…

You know he can’t just appear into a protofield. But somehow his name on your lips gives you enough strength to continue the fight.

Out of desperation, you’ve managed to resonate with some of the Evolvers.

And with great effort, you and another Evolver deal the final blow to the Wyrmlord and you’re transported back to the warehouse.

Sirens are still blaring and the edges of your vision are fading.

“Sylus.” You whisper walking away from the warehouse.

You grunt as you slump against a sturdy tree.

The shards of ice that were lodged into your stomach have vanished along with the protofield and now your blood has begun to soak through your clothing.

With a few harsh tugs, you rip your sleeve off and press it against your wounds.

Everything hurts, but you try to slow your breathing.

Your watch beeps once more.

The adrenaline causes you to perk up at the thought of more wanderers.

WARNING! Critically low blood pressure - severe blood loss. Coordinates have been sent to the nearest Hunter’s Association field lab.

When you wake next, the room is too bright for your eyes to adjust.

You blink and raise a hand to your face to block the light.

Glancing around, you notice it’s like any other bedroom.

You groan as you sit up.

Looking down at yourself, you see the faint outline of multiple gauze pads from underneath your top.

You limp out of the room, using the wall to take most of your weight.

You flinch as you feel a tap on your shoulder, hands immediately going to where your guns would have been.

“Relax, Kitten.” Sylus says, with both his hands up in the air, “I’m just trying to help you.” He begins to lower his hands.

“Sylus…” You croak from the dryness of your throat.

You could do nothing but stare. Was this real?

You were hyperventilating a little, and he’s never really seen you so high-strung.

“You’re safe.” He says as he slowly cups the side of your face.

“Sylus… I…”

He lowers his forehead to yours and you visibly relax.

“You’re safe with me, sweetheart.” He repeats the phrase as he gathers you into his chest.

“I won’t let you go ever again.” He whispers. “Never again.”

I told you it was long XD. I had fun though. If you guys like it, I don't mind fully fleshing this out into chapters. I really enjoyed writing this one actually.

|| Masterlist ||

-Seven

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"TAKE IT OFF"

@letsgobarbs here it is the story with Marcus, I hope you like it! 👍

General Acacius' meeting with the emperors took less time than you expected. When you heard the door to the house open, you looked in the mirror once more and peered into the door of your bedroom to greet him. You saw him turn the corner, his gaze falling on you as soon as he saw you, smiling from ear to ear.

"My queen, as beautiful as ever," he said before entering the bedroom, while he got rid of his weapons and left them resting on a chair, "the emperors just wanted to wish me luck for tomorrow's siege…"

It was then that he turned to look at you. His words got stuck in his throat when he saw how you were dressed. You were wearing his red cape, ONLY his cape. The brooch that held it in place was delicately pinned to the fabric of your shoulders.

His gaze snaked down your body, observing how the shape of your breasts could be seen beneath the fabric. Your legs, the ones that had wrapped around his hips so many nights, were also in view. A shadow covered his eyes, before he made a gesture with his index finger.

“Come here,” he ordered, his authoritative tone sending shivers down your body.

You did as he asked, standing in front of him. He placed his hands on the back of your back, making you come a little closer. His lips lightly brushed the lower part of your stomach, causing a broken sigh to escape from between your lips.

“Aissa,” he whispered, leaving soft kisses on your skin until he reached the lower part of your breasts, “you don't know what you make me feel with my cape on…” he murmured, slipping his hands between the fabric to rest them on your hips, you felt his strong, long fingers kneading your skin. “You want me to tell you that you are mine, you are, dear,” he affirmed, “and you always will be,” he sketched a half-smile, “we are married, remember?”

-I would never forget it - you answered returning the gesture - He watched you for a few moments, before running his fingers over the clasp that held the cape.

-Take it off - he stammered looking you straight in the eyes - I need to see you

You took a step back and removed the clasp that held the fabric together. The soft red cape fell behind you, making a pile on the floor. His gaze devoured every part of you, curve, mole, stretch mark, he observed you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

-So beautiful… - he whispered approaching you, running his fingers over your cheek - so perfect… - he continued, his thumb outlining the curve of your lower lip - my Venus - he murmured kissing the corner of your lips - mine - he pointed out -

He lifted you by the hips, making you wrap your legs around him. He gently laid you down on your bed, and then spent the entire night reminding you who you belonged to, as well as the servants in the house, who heard your heart-rending cries.

[solifloris]

casually adding onto this with my thought process for writing "don't let me love you" but—kieran's character is one hell of a ride guys i swear to you. i'm genuinely impressed at the layers they gave him liKE????? it's like there are so many calculated moves from him, but also so much of his character seems to lean into the role he has of serving sylus that it's so. fun to look into his dialogue?!

and like. first of all. his words are always so... sharp. he feels definitely like the harsher of the two, and as far as first impressions go he doesn't seem to be very fond of mc whereas his brother feels more open to the idea of her being around, he even goes so far as to take luke's taunting further with regards to the hallway which like,, idk that stuck out to me bc this was right after he witnessed luke get threatened and played 😭

and more than that, he also feels the most loyal/obedient to sylus. he seems to put sylus and sylus' orders first, mostly focused on duty before anything else—when we first see the twins he: (a) makes sure to injure mc's captor first and (b) simply walks off once sylus steps in (a la "my job here is done" vibes). it's a big contrast to luke who approaches mc first instead, and also lingers a lil to watch/taunt as sylus' evol strangles the guy

BUT SIMULTANEOUSLY . he's also always the first to extend a hand to mc, even if it means potentially going against sylus' wishes? which is so interesting to me. because luke might be more prone to expressing concern through words, and his tone of voice comes off warmer in comparison, but—

kieran, despite being generally colder/harsher with his tone, seems to show appreciation through acting on it.

in all three of those situations, he was able to garner that mc wasn't okay with certain things—(1) being "trapped" (although they were leading her to sylus anyway), (2) not knowing how to find the brooch (although the items they gave her were only jokes), (3) being wary of sylus and his intentions. and he's the one acted to provide some comfort, first.

in the first, luke might have tried to reassure her with words that it's better for her to stay, but kieran is the one who opens the door enough to ease her anxiety about it. in the second, kieran is the first one who speaks and suggests helping her at all, and granted, it gave her enough courage to do something risky, even if the given items were fake. in the third, kieran is the only one who addresses her doubts about sylus and deliberately chooses to reassure her—without intending for sylus to know of it, despite the loyalty he seems to have for him.

i.e how i wrote it in dlmly;

like do you. DO YOU SEE. do you see how many layers they haVE DESPITE BEING SIDE CHARACTERS AND HOW INTERESTING KIERAN'S PATTERNS ARE DESPITE HOW LITTLE DIALOGUE HE HAS. IN THIS ESSAY I WILL—

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 23

River Song chose Bernice Summerfield as her tutor in university because she knew the Doctor. Benny remembers that she was the most annoying student she ever had, rarely attended class, but still graduated on top.

Not only does the Sixth Doctor wear a cat brooch, but he wears cat cufflinks too.

Jenny had managed to track the Eleventh Doctor down during the Siege of Trenzalore but was unable to get to him due to the forcefield kept by the Papal Mainframe.

The Sixth Doctor has twelve identical spare coats in the TARDIS wardrobe.

Leela once stabbed the Second Doctor with a Janus thorn. Jamie immediately began a knife fight with her in response.

Peri Brown once had to disguise herself as Queen Elizabeth I, big dress and all. The Sixth Doctor was much more amused by this than she was.

When Helen first became a companion, she thought the Eighth Doctor was scary.

After the Twelfth Doctor kicked Rassilon off Gallifrey, Rassilon allied himself with the Cybermen, was converted into the CyberPresident, and created an alternate timeline where the Cybermen had taken over the universe. This timeline was later eradicated.

There are 76 different color tones in the Sixth Doctor's coat.

While at university, River stole a vortex manipulator in order to get help from her future self on essays. The reason she wasn't expelled was because she argued that it was impossible to plagiarize off of herself.

When listening to a device that sounds like the voice of someone the listener admires and respects, Ianto heard Jack, and Jack heard the Tenth Doctor.

In a parallel universe, Rob Tyler was the son of Jackie and Pete Tyler. He was the male counterpart of Rose and in a relationship with Mickey.

By one account, Rassilon’s first body was male; by another, female.

After a conversation with the Third Doctor, River became convinced that the Sixth Doctor was copying her hair.

After learning about messages in bottles, Jenny wrote to the Doctor, hoping it would one day find them.

Dalek juice is a beverage made from the secretions that come out of a Dalek as it is tortured.

The Sixth Doctor developed a weak form of night vision from the carrot juice Mel had him drink.

Jamie has disguised himself as a woman on two different occasions (that I can think of).

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Beauty & the Beast's Christmas

This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game. Expect grammatical errors. Not proofread.

Gilbert von Obsidian's story (JP) from the last collection event.

~ I'd love to give you a Christmas gift, and yet ~

On Christmas night, everything outside the window was covered in pure white snow.

Gilbert: “Here, this is my Christmas gift for you.”

Suddenly, Gilbert hugged me from behind and attached a brooch to the neckline of my dress.

Gilbert: “I tried to make it with you in mind.”

Emma: “Wow, thank you! It’s so cute.”

The brooch, depicting a baby rabbit with colorful gems, was delicately crafted and beautiful.

Although I should have been happy about it, I’m currently preoccupied with something else.

(I haven’t prepared a gift for him. What should I do?)

Gilbert: “Hm? Why the long face? Aren’t you happy?”

Emma: “I’m happy! But I haven’t prepared anything for you.”

Gilbert: “Oh, so you were worried about that after all.”

Emma: “It’s not like that. I wanted to go shopping, but you forbade me from going out.”

Gilbert: “I can’t let you go to a crowded city right before Christmas.”

Gilbert: “Unless you don’t mind me being jealous.”

(He’s saying things like that again.)

(It feels unfair that he’s the only one giving a gift.)

Emma: “I also wanted to give you a gift since Christmas only comes once a year.”

(Is there anything I can at least prepare?)

(I’ve already made a Christmas cake, but it doesn’t feel special enough to call it a gift.)

Emma: “I got it! Gil, I’m going back to my room to write a letter.”

(I get the feeling that he's the kind of person who treasures even old letters.)

(I'm sure he'll accept it.)

Gilbert's red eyes lit up with happiness all of a sudden.

Gilbert: "You're going to write me a letter?"

Emma: "Yes! I'll write it quickly and bring it to you."

Gilbert: "What are you talking about? You can write it here."

Emma: "What? Write it here now?"

Gilbert: "Yes, right here, right now."

(It's way too embarrassing to write a letter in front of the person you're sending it to!)

He smiled and quickly prepared a piece of paper and a quill.

(He closed off any escape route in an instant!)

Reluctantly sitting in front of the desk, I gripped the quill, and he stood close behind me.

Emma: "Um, it's hard to write with you staring at me like that."

Gilbert: "It's okay. Just pretend I'm not here and write."

Emma: "It's not that easy..."

Despite my protest, it was clear that he wouldn't listen, so I mustered the courage to write.

("Dear Gilbert...")

Gilbert: "Isn't it supposed to be 'To my beloved Gilbert'?"

(Ugh...)

With every sentence I wrote, he interjected with advice or suggestions.

Gilbert: "Hey, what's wrong? Your pen stopped."

Gilbert: "How about writing more about the things you love about me or using words of love?"

(That's impossible. It's too embarrassing!)

Emma: "Doing that in front of you is just too much!"

Gilbert: "Oh, little rabbit is so shy. Should I make it less embarrassing for you?"

Emma: "Are you going to move away from me?"

I turned my head in anticipation, only to have my lips captured in a sudden kiss.

His tongue stirred my mouth passionately, igniting a warm sensation throughout my body.

Gilbert: "See? Now, it's not embarrassing anymore. But your hand has stopped, so hurry up and write."

Emma: "I really can't do this!"

(I’m even more embarrassed than I was earlier!)

Gilbert: “You’re going to give me a present, right? I’m really looking forward to it, so do your best.”

Emma: “If that’s the case, please don’t tease me.”

Gilbert: “Ahaha! Ordering me around, huh? Emma, you’re quite fearless.”

He laughed and slowly bit my earlobe, causing me to squirm.

Then he opened the collar of my dress and bit my shoulder.

Emma: “Gil, writing it down is pretty difficult, so I’m just gonna say it in words.”

Gilbert: “No. I like letters. So, come on, write until the end.”

Gilbert: “While you write the letter, I’ll tell you words of love.”

Gilbert: “Fufu. I love how even when you’re in a bind and at a loss, you still won’t let go of the pen.”

Emma: “You’re so unfair.”

(No matter how many words I write, Gilbert always manages to surpass them.)

(But I can’t lose. Right now, I want to convey all the overflowing love in my heart to him.)

I continued to express my feelings for my beloved in a letter while accepting the unstoppable sweet evil.

➟ Ikepri Translation Masterlist

[blueiscoool]

Archaeologists Unearth More Than 50 Viking Skeletons in Denmark

Archaeologists in Denmark have unearthed more than 50 “exceptionally well preserved” skeletons in a large Viking-era burial ground in the east of the country.

A team from Museum Odense have spent the last six months excavating the Åsum site, which covers about 21,500 square feet and is thought to date back to the 9th and 10th centuries.

The skeletons were buried alongside artifacts from far beyond Denmark’s borders, suggesting Vikings traveled extensively for trade, according to the team from the museum.

Michael Borre Lundø, archaeologist and curator at the museum, said that it is incredibly rare to find Viking remains in such a good state of preservation.

“Often when we excavate bodies from the Viking age we are lucky if there are just a few teeth,” he said in a telephone interview Tuesday.

The conditions at the site are what helped keep the skeletons in such good shape, he said.

“At this particular site, there’s a lot of chalk in the ground which helps preserve the bones and there’s a lot of natural water in the ground as well,” he said. “For long periods of time the bodies of the Vikings were covered in water, which slows down the decomposition of the bones.”

Archaeologists had been called in to excavate the area as part of work to renovate the electrical grid.

“We had no clue that there was going to be a burial ground with Viking skeletons there,” Lundø said.

“It is truly unusual to find so many well-preserved skeletons at once, like those discovered in Åsum,” he added separately in a press release.

“This discovery offers extraordinary opportunities to perform a wide range of scientific analyses, which can reveal more about the general health, diet, and origins of those buried,” he said. “The analyses might even reveal whether the buried Vikings were related, which would be particularly significant, as this has never been examined in similar graves.”

Items found buried alongside the skeletons also suggest a lot about the deceased - including their status in society and how far they might have traveled to trade.

Perhaps the most significant of the skeletons was that of a woman found buried in a wagon, the upper part of a Viking cart that was used as a coffin.

Lundø said in the press release: “The woman was buried in the wagon she likely traveled in. We must imagine that she was buried with her finest clothes and belongings. She was given a beautiful glass bead necklace, an iron key, a knife with a silver-threaded handle, and, most notably, a small shard of glass that may have served as an amulet.

“At the foot of the wagon, there was a finely decorated wooden chest, the contents of which we still do not know.”

The grave of another person nearby contained a fine bronze three-lobed brooch, a single red glass bead on a cord around the deceased’s neck, an iron knife and a small piece of rock crystal.

It was this stone that was of particular interest, according to Lundø.

“Rock crystal does not occur naturally in Denmark and was likely imported from Norway. Several items from the many graves in Åsum indicate that the buried Vikings were connected to international trade networks that developed during the Viking Age, he said in the release.”

According to the release, the discovery of the burial site confirms that Åsum was a key geographical point for the earliest urban developments, which eventually led to the formation of Odense - Denmark��s third largest city

Archaeologists are still excavating some of the area at the site, but most of the skeletons and artifacts are now at the museum awaiting further examination.

Lundø said: “Now the skeletons are drying out a little bit before we can wash them and ship them off to Copenhagen for further examination.”

Among other things, scientists in the Danish capital will be aiming to extract DNA from the remains in order to learn more about those buried there.

“That’s going to be very exciting,” Lundø said. “I think that will give us a much better idea of people’s ages, sex, what diseases they might have had and whether they were related.”

By Lianne Kolirin.

[q-gorgeous]

Broken Dashed Ladybug Chapter 1

Being Ladybug was hard work, especially while still dealing the loss of Tucker and putting up with Dash at school. He was glad he had his trusted partner to fall back on in all of this.

ao3

ffn

hehehehe

Sam always knew she wanted to help people. 

They were always asked what they wanted to be when they grew up as kids. Most kids wanted to be a vet or a firefighter. Some wanted to be popstars or actors like the ones they saw on tv. 

As a kid Sam also wanted to be a vet. She wanted to help sickly animals and make sure they would feel better. But the sicker Tucker got, the more her ambitions changed. 

Vet, teacher, environmentalist, nurse, doctor. 

But as they got older and Tucker got sicker, she grew more disillusioned with the world. She knew that no matter how hard she tried, she’d never be able to help everyone. Not even those closest to her. 

Tucker died when they were thirteen. 

If only she’d stepped in sooner. If only she’d thought to call on her own family’s doctors sooner. If only their medical system wasn’t so fucked up in this godforsaken country. Then maybe everything would have turned out okay. Maybe her world wouldn’t have been shattered. 

She didn’t have any sort of hope left until her parents were talking to one of their rich friends about something called miraculous a few months later.

The miraculous were powerful jewels that granted the wearer immense power. There were many of them long ago. The fox, the turtle, the butterfly. The black cat and ladybug. Most of them seemed to have been lost to time though. 

The most powerful of all of them were the black cat and ladybug miraculous. Especially used together. Whoever had them both could make a wish and rewrite reality. 

Her parents didn’t believe in any of those stories but they didn’t hesitate in buying the butterfly miraculous when they were given the option. They didn’t even ask what it could do.

She had to get her hands on the miraculous. She could use the butterfly miraculous to find the jewels of the black cat and ladybug. She could use them to help Tucker. To get him back. 

She spent weeks planning ways to get the brooch from her parents. It was all for naught when her parents ended up simply gifting it to her. They thought she might like it. It fit her style and interests in the strange while still being elegant and regal. 

She pretended she lost it two weeks later. 

Her parents were furious but she couldn’t have them growing suspicious once she started using the miraculous and learning what it could do. 

When she put on the miraculous for the first time she was surprised to see a little creature flit out of it. Nooroo was the kwami of transmission. He explained that she could grant one person powers of her choosing and they would follow her orders. She could send them to find the miraculous for her. 

She transformed for the first time in her greenhouse. She called on a butterfly and did what Nooroo told her. Channel her energy and look for someone she could grant powers to. 

It took a bit of practicing, but after a moment of listening she could hear someone’s distressed thoughts. She sent her akuma off. 

Sam would get her wish. She needed to bring him back. She needed to help him.

She was going to save him.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Whumptober 2024 No. 23- Forced Choice | Public Display | "I'm Doing This for You"

This is my first whumptober post with OCs! You'll recognize Lucien from my yandere snippets. This is a bit of his backstory~

You can find Lucien's page here

Lucien fought the urge to stiffen as his collar was adjusted about his neck. Erythros had insisted on bringing him the party, and when the ancient vampire insisted on something, no one dared refuse him.

“You seem tense, Lucien,” Erythros said with a gentleness that served more as a warning than for comfort.

“I am nervous, Master,” Lucien replied slowly.

Erythros picked up a comb and began tending to Lucien’s long, jet-black hair. It took all of his will not to shudder.

“I’m doing this for you, you know,” Erythros said, “you keep to yourself far too much. It’s high time you got out more.”

More like it’s time for you to show me off again for your own ego, Lucien thought.

Erythros tied Lucien’s hair back, running long, bony fingers through it.

“Hm,” he mused, “would you prefer a red vest or a gold one? Either will match your eyes.”

That was true, Lucien’s left eye was an unnatural gold, the other a deep carmine. He missed the days when both of his eyes were blue, and his ears were rounded, and his teeth normal, and-

“Well?”

“Um, red will be fine, thank you, Master.”

“And your brooch?”

Lucien looked down at the vanity. It did not have a mirror since such things served no purpose here. On the vanity were a variety of brooches.

“Whichever you think is best,” Lucien said.

Erythros hummed, holding up different ones to his thrall’s neck. He settled for a simple ruby encrusted, gold brooch. He fixed it to Lucien’s shirt collar.

“There now,” he said, “you look appropriately presentable.”

“Thank you.”

“There will be humans there for refreshment. I expect you to feed at least once.”

“Yes, Master.”

Erythros seemed satisfied for the moment.

“I’ll let you know when the carriage gets here,” he said.

Erythros left the room, his long, white hair swishing behind him, and his great red wings brushing on the ground. The door closed, and Lucien breathed a sigh of relief.

I love how of all the choices he gives me, there’s never a choice to refuse, He thought bitterly.

Lucien would never express his frustration out loud. He had learned long ago that vampires had incredibly enhanced hearing, and he had learned it the hard way. He couldn’t wait until he could go back to his mansion across the lake, where no one could order him about but so much, and where he felt relatively safe… as much as he could anyway.

“Lucien!” Erythros called, “time to go!”

Lucien straightened up, his black bat wings fluttering nervously. Another night paraded around like some kind of pet or trinket.

“Lucien!”

Lucien descended the staircase and met Erythros at the castle entrance.

“Not in your head again, were you?” Erythros asked.

“I’m sorry, Master.”

“Hopefully tonight you’ll be present,” he continued, “there’s no need for that much idle thought.”

“Yes, Master. I am sorry.”

Erythros sighed.

“One day you’ll learn.”

Lucien followed Erythros into the carriage, and off they went into the night.

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[marinettesaltprompts]

Cat in the Belfry (Part 1)

Adribaten x Gotham City Sirens

Prompt by @somereaderinblue

OP NOTE: I got sent this prompt but posted them in the wrong order. Sorry😅

Instead of Marinette/LB going to Gotham & finding the Batfam, what if Adrien did it instead? So, Fu & LB continue to leave CN out of the loop. Their partnership deteriorates thanks to secrets, miscommunication & the whole Lila dilemma. In their civilian life, Mari’s already written Adrien off as a ‘traitor’ & gives him the cold shoulder whenever he tries to be civil or offer some modicum of support outside of class. One day, CN tries to ask LB if she’s made any headway on HM’s ID & she blows up on him, ranting abt how stressed she is from her responsibilities as the Guardian, hero & team leader and verbally attacking him, calling him a bad hero, a worse sidekick & a nuisance. 

CN is hurt. He’s dialed back on the flirting, esp after Plagg gave a stern talk abt boundaries when Lila went too far. He fires back at LB that she wouldn’t be so stressed if she let him help only for her to once again remind him of all his shortcomings. They go back & forth until LB just yoyos away.

Adrien decides that if she won’t let him help her, he’ll do it on his own. Instead of hiring a normal PI, he takes it a step further: tracking down the Bat Family themselves. The fact that his dad is going on a business trip to Gotham soon is the perfect opportunity.

He tells LB he’ll be absent. She scoffs, unsurprised that he’s ‘slacking off’ & smugly says she’ll get the temps to fill in for him. At least they know how to do their jobs & respect her leadership. Instead of anger or jealousy, CN just feels….pity. And worry the more he imagines the temps doing what he does: being the distractions at best & meatshields at worst.

He has to find the Batfam ASAP.

Here’s where some deconstruction kicks in. He tells himself he’ll wait for the Batfam to show up at a crime scene. While looking for said scene, he stumbles upon Catwoman who’s fighting with Penguin over a relic both of them want to steal. CN intervenes to save the relic & can’t help but save Catwoman too. Then the cherry on top comes: Firefly who decides to burn the place down bcz clearly someone has to die tonight.

Luckily, before CN could lose 1 of his 9 lives, Harley & Ivy arrive as Catwoman’s getaway & CN is brought along for the ride. Cue a car chase that’s intense enough to push CN into unlocking a new ability: Black Storm. Plagg is so proud.

And that’s how CN found himself sitting in Ivy’s greenhouse, stroking Bud & Lou while Harley demands Selina explain who how when & where she got her new stray. Sipping Ivy’s herbal tea, he awkwardly clears his throat & reveals he’s looking for the Batfam. Harley continues to prod until CN ends up telling her everything.

“You must think I’m crazy.” he says at the end….only to remember he’s talking to Harley Quinn & 2 other women who were born in Gotham and bred to bleed for it.

This leads to some research & after seeing footage of the fights and more concerningly, the imbalanced power dynamic, Harley asks CN more questions that confirm their worst fears: that he’s unknowingly being abused & worse, has likely been abused before he put on the mask. 

It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but the Sirens show him more support than he’s gotten since Plagg. It’s already 5 AM but those hours he’s spent with them got months worth of stress off his chest. Sadly, all things must come to an end & he reluctantly prepares to leave.

S: Are you still going to look for the Bats?

CN: I have to try. 

S: Wait, you told us Hawkmoth’s source of power is a piece of jewelry, right?

CN: Yeah, a brooch. Why?

Selina gives him a cheshire grin & he realizes that detectives could solve mysteries but thieves could steal jewelry. Plus, Selina loved a challenge & what could possibly be bigger than magical jewelry? Payment-wise, Adrien had already accumulated some Gabriel accessories to pawn off. Also, compared to the vigilantes, Selina has more freedom to leave Gotham.

(Selina would also be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bit tempted to see more of CN’s potential.)

And thus, Selina books a ticket to Paris. Oh, and Harley & Ivy come too. Time to psychoanalyze the hell out of the Parisians & check out the gardens.

[streets-in-paradise]

Prancing Princess - Milo x (Fem)Reader

Pompeii (2014) Oneshot

For @empressenchanted

Warnings: Historical innacuracies, town's freak!reader, i completely ignored the natural disaster aspect of the film here lol.

Summary: By chance you are finally introduced to the misterious man your friend has endlessly commented you about since meeting him on the way back home. For once, your odd ways of approach create more than a scandal astonishing the handsome stranger.

Ariadne had called you both at the right time, for you finally had the chance of meeting the man Cassia had been talking about non stop since her arrival. The mysterious savage that talked to horses was brought to the party as part of the entertainment for older, wealthy ladies looking for a thrill. You maidens were supposed to stay out, away from such corruption, but as it would be expected you were the first to rush towards it.

The civilizatory mission of the romans have failed with you, and the relatives receiving you in the capital got sick way sooner. It allowed you to be back home ahead of her, pridefull as you were in knowing your parents had no idea of what to do with you. Senator Corvus had said it himself, believing to be hurting you with his appreciations.

For such beautifull woman, you were an unfixable mess. What he found as minor quircks of her age in your friend, things that would dissapear once he would have forced her into compliance, were on you a serious problem. Rebelious nature, questioning curiosity for exploring limits forbbiden to your kind, and plain confusing oddity were a dangerous mix for a young lady that seemed unbothered by the scandal she would leave behind. Either in Rome or Pompeii, people talked behind your back, to what you would only have optimistic mocks in return for your detractors.

The honor of your family rested safe on the shoulders of your brothers and you weren't going to stop being true to yourself for it. You could already hear the voice of your mother in your mind warning you against approaching the gladiators, but that only increased your already growing excitement. Reaching the spot to get a first sight of the man made you determinated to cause a mess in order to get closer to him without making people suspect you were aiming to be a client of his master's licencious business.

Your friend's servant dared to say what all of you were thinking, enraptured in the wild beauty of the stranger.

" He is a fine specimen."

Answering ahead of her, you were already up to start controversy.

" Indeed, ... I think I am going to introduce myself."

Cassia looked at you in disbelief and released some chuckles, genuinely shocked on how direct your admiration was. Being a lady implied to practice the act of discrete longing, what you usually were decent to teamworking at, but the intense shared interest on him caused a drastical switch in you.

" How? Would you just walk there and leave our neighbors tell our parents we were eyeing the pleasurable night companions of the matrons? "

Even a fellow sharer of your rebellious spirit thought the idea was insane, too much risk to take in one night. Watching him from afar, awaiting for his glance to land nearby gracing any of you, was the proper thing to do if you wanted to save even a bit of your reputation. People thought you were strange, but nobody ever talked of you being a rotten girl ruining herself for marriage.

" No, we will feast our way there." Was your mischievous reply. " ... Observe how I create enough distraction for them to talk about anything else, but our behavior towards the gladiator. "

You took off your mantle and gave it to the servant girl with pleading eyes, leaving behind as well the brooch that was previously keeping your hair still. It was acomodated on the cleveage of her tunic like if would have been a little decoration of hers all along. Hair loosen, letting the skirt of your dress fall wildly on the way, you began to dance and dragged your friend down with you. Gracefull movements that were not, however, completely accord to what the music around dictated. Your pacing around the place looked like the prancing of a wild mare, only more stylish, never letting go the hand of a quite confused Cassia trying to follow you by instinct. Playing with the skirt of your dress gave it a more elegant touch, as if you gallantly teased the observers.

For the very first time in the night, the man was smiling. It was quite clear to him that such odd spectacle was made for his eyes, but your carefree fun managed to get his attention anyways. Even if he despised everyone else around, the two persons-only round of cute dancing girls subtly approaching was the most genuinely lifefull sight the place had to offer. As if you would have read his guesses, encouraged by the signs of life in his face, you let the madness escalate doing exactly what you intended to do all along.

Singing a song, an unapologetical mockery to the situation that reproduced the kind of callout your parents could have been given you. Barely a few verses, untill you raised the bet on the scandal switching to a language none of the guest could understand.

His eyes were suddenly and exclusively fixated on you, the lady dressed in roman attires singing words of the celts. Mixed feelings kept him wary, but the surprise was stronger than any reprehensive attitudes he could held to the spectacle. Finding an echo of his perished world was rare enough, but even weirder was for it to be delivered by the voice and manners of a girl who acted like she existed in her own little bubble with her friend, and his was the only opinion who they seemed to be considering. It was most likely for him that you didn't even knew he was a celt and could perfectly understand you.

Delicate and adorable, cheerfull yet fierce and painfully gorgeous, you were a mistery for him almost as great as he himself was for you. When the arrival of a who appeared to be a parent interrupted your fun, sending you back into the context you were escaping, he felt dissapointed thinking you both were about to get dragged out. Only one of you did, the sweet girl he had meet earlier through the tragedy of the horse. It was a shame, because both of you seemed a delight. However, he soon discovered that missing her friend didn't stop the prancing princess from keep partying her way with the shameless mischievousness of a flirty fae untill being right in front of him.

Annoyed by your strange irruption, some of the ladies who were watching him like fresh meat for their lustfull consuption kept walking. Atticus laughed giving him a side eye, but their master didn't seem so amused.

" What do you think you are doing, lady?"

You directed a mischievous glance to the dark haired gladiator, and only then replied.

" It feels to me that you have a terrible advertisement strategy ... He is way more handsome when you give him a chance to smile."

Even when he didn't want to, the compliment made him smile by instinct.

" Do you find acceptable to embelish the roman feast with the barbaric arts of the celts? Who could have possibly showed you that?"

The taunt fell on you like a compliment, impressed to find out he had recognized a source of your improvised performance.

" Wealthy people don't raise their children, even less around here in this vacational city. The really important ones constantly travel to Rome and we are left at the care of our slaves. " You explained right away, wondering why it wasn't an obvious answer to him. " My most beloved nurse was a celt and I keep her teachings present because I am not ashamed of showing I loved her like a mother. I angered many people in Rome because I refuse to pretend rejecting her memory just to please them."

" What a coincidence, this one is a Celt! " His owner interrupted you, what still didn't let you ignore the gladiator was complicit by approval of your particular expressions of rebellion. " You clearly aren't in the position of buying his favors, so I would at least make you pay for his company if you want to keep talking. "

Perfectly aware that, no matter what you would do, their guards couldn't do a scratch on you because you were even more important than their stock.

" No I won't, what I will do for you is correcting this unflattering mess completely mismatching his virtues."

With no more previous warnings than those words, you took the hands of the slave and helped him down from the stupid exhibition podium so he would dance with you. They yelled, but couldn't stop you, and the handsome gladiator only found amusement on that.

Certainly, you wouldn't have much time untill his captors would lose their patience with you and order would be reinstaured, but he used it the best he could.

" Is this part of your usual deeds, prancing princess? To turn the world upside down as you go?"

" Only when I am on a good mood. " You replicated, then kissed the back of his hand as a mocking emphasis of his saids. " What is your name? It wouldn't be polite to romance a nameless man."

" Milo. " He replied, chuckling before returning the gesture. " May I ask what do you want from me tonight?"

" To make many people of roman ways quite angry, if you are up to? And maybe loose myself in the beauty of your face, that this cursed profession enforced in you didn't spoil at all, only if you would indulge me."

His hands rounding your waist expressed everything you needed to know, and you cupped his cheeks resisting the latent temptation of kissing him.

[delicrieux]

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 4. year one: start of term, 1972

pairing for this chapter—sirius black x f!lestrange!reader x regulus black warnings for this chapter—tbh none i think word count—6.4k

oh dear, the train ride is positively mental, but at least the sorting clears, well, everything. it is always as it should be, isn't it?

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walburga lands three kisses: one for regulus, one for sirius, and one for you. her lips are dry, and her lipstick stains identical, right between the brows. sirius seems most displeased by such a display of unwanted affection, at king's cross, no less, but regulus is glad for it. you are, too, as unwilling as you are to admit or even show it.

"write," she orders.

you know this isn't aimed solely at you, but it's easier to assume. a bout of special treatment. walburga is very different from your mother, from the cut of her features to her voice to the drapes of her travel robes. sometimes, you wish they were much alike, because that would mean that your mother loves you. perhaps the contrast means she doesn't, perhaps the warmth means she's obliged to. perhaps all love has its peculiarities.

the trip to the station had been surprisingly uneventful. sirius had pointedly ignored you, always one step head – any further and walburga would have yanked him back by the hand, which would have been terribly embarrassing for him. regulus, sour in his brother presence, had also been confined to silence, but he stuck close to your side, a looming shadow just over your shoulder, still too short to form any of his own.

despite this, their strategic placement made you safe. rabastan made himself scarce at the first blow of the whistle, along with your luggage, which he either dumped into a lonely compartment or gleefully left on the tracks. he will receive a earful either way, because you didn't much appreciate the way he handled your precious leather-bound trunk, dragging and jostling it around uncaringly. you'll tattle to father, too, only to make your displeasure all the more apparent.

you take sirius' and regulus' hand respectively and squeeze, trying to ease the mounting pressure, but neither seems to find this comforting, pulling their appendage free almost at once. walburga frowns disapprovingly, eyes sharp. under her gaze, you become nervous. or perhaps it's the loud, oozing mob of people sloshing by the sides of your small family, crying parents and children included. you would, of course, never cry, even if the sting behind your eyes is surprisingly sharp the longer you look at her silver brooch. you wish to assure her, but your teeth are pressed together very tightly and you don't think you'll find your voice. your feet scoot backward, close together, shoulders to your ears.

a flash, an iron cloud of steam, and, then, a hissing rumbling that rattles the platform and vibrates up the soles of your shoes.

a glance at regulus shows him pale and sickly, hazel eyes boring into his mother. sirius grows angry the longer he dallies. his jaw is all hard, like his father's. you wonder if they'll resemble one another the longer they spend apart. the idea is rather frightening.

"on the train, off you go," their mother ushers, an undertone of malice slipping under her crisp voice, "no ruckus."

in a stupor, you nod dumbly, only really catching on when she fixes your jacket and skirts, readying you to face the brave new world of non-private tutors and shared dorms. the chilly mist curls by your feet. she waits until the lot of you march up, the shiny metal stairwell banging loudly underfoot, sirius first, regulus following closely. something within you snaps, and with the creak of the last step, you spin and wave, like your life would depend on it, wind picking up.

no return of your petulant gesture, nor a smile. just the slight dip of her head. it's more than enough.

the train's narrow walkways are overcrowded by eager, sobbing first years saying their last farewells. you hope one tumbles out the open window. the sight of snot unnerves you. surely you don’t look like that, all blushed and scattered and eyes rimmed red. or do you? the thought is humiliating, and your skin crawls beneath soft cotton.

"we should find barty and evan," regulus says.

you perk, "and marzy. matilda, too."

"...suppose."

his expression grows troubled, and it's like the flip of a switch: a change so instantaneous you want to laugh. but it isn't that funny. regulus was never an anxious child. this new side of him concerns you. perhaps he's just worried to be away from home. you are, too, and you wish to tell him, but only in secret, because you know that only he would keep it well.

but sirius is near, and oh, he wouldn't let either of you live it down. he'd probably hear it as a whisper, even with all this terrible noise around. your row is still fresh in memory, and you return his spite with barely masked discontent, despite him being completely unfazed. he's playing a game, as always. when he wins, the euphoria will make everything else melt away. that is how he can stay happy.

you walk through the crowded corridor, the trio making careful but swift movements to avoid the nasty looks of huddled, tired older students. there's a certain thrill to seeing faces you would recognize as fellow peers in a year or two. this is all very new and confusing.

a long string of cabins makes the hall narrower. some doors are opened. inside there is an ever changing string of images: a quartet of laughing girls, a pair of boys playing with a pack of cards, the fatigued glance from a student studying, another group of friends screaming over one another, the window and the endless expanse of trees rushing by, the shrill of the whistle, your heartbeat alongside it.

at last, a lone cabin makes your pulse jump with delight, perhaps for the first time this morning.

tailored grey robes fitted nicely, brown leather oxfords polished, new, shiny silver cuffs, rye blonde hair, and a bored, pale expression. evan rosier doesn’t so much as glance up from his book as the door rattles open, content in his own private booth. no sign indicates it to be so, but the luxurious feeling lingers, along with the hazy after-note of his father cologne (pilfered; evan, at times, wishes to appear very grown up, and thus, he isn’t above bending the rules to achieve a desired affect).

regulus enters first with a greeting, and yours gets stuck in your throat when a hand grasps your wrist and pulls.

"let's go," sirius mumbles, his grip like a claw, tight and hot.

“piss off,” you grumble, trying to tug free, but one look from him makes you wilt in spot. his eyes shift from you to somewhere over your shoulder, and the compartment’s door snaps shut.

wonderful, no one is coming to your rescue. unceremoniously, sirius drags you along, the absolute prat. yanking you around like you're some poodle (rodolphus had thoughtfully once remarked you similar in appearance and character). yes, well, perhaps the comparison is frightening for its accuracy, but that doesn't give sirius the right!

the two of you barge down the corridor, "cousin, please."

"oh," he sneers, "now, i'm ‘cousin’ again?"

you have half the mind to wring him with your own bare hands. the first hex you'll legally cast will be directed at his unhappy sneer. you think of digging your heels into the carpet, but that would possibly end with you toppling over, and he'd continue dragging you still. merlin, that'd be mortifying. another warning look and you're shushed into silence.

you pass a few carriages, now long away from your friends. unknown territory, and the students here a bit livelier and clag in muggle clothes – the sweaters, ugh, and, well, jeans, is it? – and his grip becomes much more mild. as does your resistance. he makes a point of appearing quite satisfied.

the air is a tad too tense for your comfort.

"missed me?" he muses, checking over his shoulder.

yes, you most certainly did. more so than expected, which doesn't bode well. if there was something you didn't want, it would be him figuring this out. bastard.

his next words make you bristle, "don't pout."

the prospect of speaking and exposing yourself makes you shift on your feet uncomfortably, so you don't. instead, you observe. the wooden panelling is actually nice, considering the rubbish inside, and you realize, too, you could have done in worse company. his profile is nearly enough to erase all anger, so much so it leaves you nauseous. it is just like sirius to sweep you up in the tide of his volatile emotions.

alas, you are with him, and his brother is not. he had, quite literally, peeled you away. that must count for something if taking sums.

another carriage, and you're now on the other side of the train, and he's much calmer. happier, clearly, and so you gaze up at the back of his head and wonder what could make the tense line of his shoulders ease so suddenly.

he halts, turns, and his hold slides from your wrist to your hand. this, now, feels like a very important moment. your gut churns.

"sorry," he manages, inspecting the pain of foggy glass. obviously, much more interesting than your dumb expression, "didn't want them tagging along."

"okay," is the only thing that comes to mind, and it doesn't cover even a fraction of your bewilderment.

"and. and-" his nose wrinkles as he mulls, mouth still stuck on the beginning of whatever word he will say, "and, yeah," he pauses, gives a squeeze. the carriage shifts. suppose this is the end of his dignified apology. it is the worst you had ever received, and in your long life, you had received, say, ten at most, because no one ever does anything to upset you. all of them had been from sirius, and, to his credit, he had at least tried to appear sincere. one, definitely, was from rabastan, but he was forced to apologize by father, so that hardly counts.

"still upset?"

his voice, his eyes. you wonder when they'll look older. his ears are turning pink, like they did when he was mad, or when you bested him, or when someone teased him about how ridiculous his name is.

there's not much for you to reply with that wouldn't uncover all, and so you don't speak. instead, you hold your head high in all the poise you can muster. must not be much, because he snorts.

"okay, okay," a great, deep breath, and he slouches forward, "look, sorry for ignoring you," a sigh, like something heavy, a physical entity, slides down and settles low on his chest. his chin drops into his collar, "forgot. forgot how big of a softie you are."

"am not!" your quick denial would be obvious to the blind and deaf.

his voice carries the ghost of amusement, "yes. yes, you are."

"am not!" fine, so what if you are a bit soft-hearted. all of that only makes your pride more magnificent. besides, you are selective with your soft-heartedness. if it were, say, a weeping rabbit, or, someone else's dog, then, you might, indeed, find yourself moved to act, but you most certainly draw the line somewhere. and once you locate that line, you'll surely rub it in his face.

his grin is mollifying, "i know."

all this fuss. not like you truly had much of a choice when sirius is involved. that brute knows which buttons to push. he was a fool to even test it. how he will cry when the roles are reversed.

"do you want to meet my friends?" his excitement, hidden as it is, still leaks.

"no."

"aw." he doesn't believe you. you're not sure you believe yourself. it's very perplexing. the emotions you feel are too complicated for you to pick apart, meshing and blending into a syrup that tastes tart and makes you want to squirm out his grasp, his line of vision, the immediate vicinity, and perhaps further still, but you don’t want him to let go. his eyes brighten with the next statement, "well. you're just going to have to suck it up. be cute."

that makes you huff, because his own smugness is both enervating and enthralling, but you're glad to be needed again, "as if i don't always!"

"there's the spunk," his hold shifts, and the tip of his thumb gently eases a stray wisp of hair away from the bridge of your nose. your cheeks must be positively scalding, "going to cry on me?"

it's his taunting, his brittle tenderness. always wanting to prove something. to you, to everyone, it seems. you think his behaviour is strange today. not off-putting, but, rather, endearing in its absurdity.

fine, you'll bite. fix your cutest expression – all doe eyes and a pout, like you didn't receive the candy you so desperately wanted. very unassuming, it does wonders for the general populace. father once told you that you have a very comely disposition, and that you must use it to your advantage, but what he didn't know is that, at five, you were already doing that. how else would he have bought you a stable to feed your brief obsession with horses? without even realising it, too.

it is terribly effective on sirius.

"well, don't. please," is what he can come up with, which, in your humble opinion, is simply awful, "okay? don't cry. because there's a no-crying clause in our friendship. and it's... very important."

"alright," you cogitate, delighted to have so much power over such a boy. not that show it, but there really isn't a better feeling.

regulus could probably call your bluff. evan, most certainly. but sirius, despite his fiery nature, likes to be useful, but particularly, he likes protect. the latter, especially, when directed toward a pretty, smaller thing. which, in this case, you suppose is yourself.

you allow the brat to tug you up and into a cabin. he almost trips over his feet.

as soon as the door slides open, you stand on your tippy-toes to look over his shoulder.

three pairs of eyes rest on the both of you and suddenly your tummy sinks with panic. how odd is this situation for a first impression. there you are, in skirts and clutching his hand like a little lost pet, and he, smug as can be, eyes slightly less dry from a poor excuse of an emotional break. he has this look on his face, too.

"all right?" the spectacled one greets.

he turns to regard you, which gives you the opportunity to properly analyse the faces of strangers. he seems to be sirius' age, and he's smiling very brightly. his spectacles, a bit crooked, slide off his nose, and he doesn't feel the need to fix them, revealing twin hazel eyes.

a warm squeeze draws your attention back, "yeah," sirius responds, and perhaps you unconsciously cave into yourself to appear even smaller. not that you aren't used to be being examined, it's that you aren't used to being examined by sirius' friends. you had never met anyone he would call that outside of yourself.

"my cousin," sirius presents, along with your full, proper name, first and middle and third and lesrange, "four times removed."

they all happily chime their introductions as you are sat down besides sirius. the spectacle-clad one is james, and the one sat beside him with a chocolate frog in his hand is peter, and the one on your side of the seat is remus, cosy by the window. he seems the quietest and the least likely to find sirius' pranks funny. and you think, all in all, that perhaps you could like him very much.

you have heard bits and pieces about them, and it's nice to put names to faces and finally see the people sirius has grown so close with. he was often quite evasive in his replies, probably to maintain a sense of cool. what a ninny.

peter regards you a bit shyly, not quite sure if you want to be here. his freckly, ruddy skin and blonde hair is so quaint and farmish. nothing like sirius'. james, too, seems like the type of child you might find in a shoe store, perfectly squishy and baby-faced.

"she's good," sirius says, "normal. the only other with common sense out the whole lot."

well, you would appreciate if he didn't speak as if you didn't exist squeezed beside him, thank you very much. his hand still has yours hostage, and by how at ease he is, you assume he has forgotten about it entirely. you will not remind him, because you find the notion surprisingly awkward, and this is perhaps the first time in your life that you feel the prickly, tense feeling halting all possible function.

"not surprised," james remarks, eyes on you. there's a mischievous gleam, similar to sirius’, "a friend of sirius is a friend of ours!"

"suppose," peter agrees, having gotten over the initial surprise of having you there, his features shifting into his natural, lazy appearance, which you can tolerate, "our numbers have grown."

sitting close, you can feel sirius preen in pleasure at being so wanted and loved. by a pettigrew, a line infested with squibs, and a potter, no doubt an ignoble lineage. and a lupin, too, though more subtly. a wizard surname, but considering you haven't heard much of it, you can assume nothing good.

well, this is certainly company.

you plaster your shyest smile in hopes they cannot tell what you're thinking. they're boys, so you don't suppose they think much to begin with, but one can never be too certain! even barty has his moments.

remus, you think, has a quite cool gaze on you. or, not. but still, he holds himself in the same way that regulus does. quite tall, too. there's nothing exactly frightening about his countenance, but he seems a bit more serious than the current gaggle.

sirius doesn't pay much notice, absorbed by his little following as he is, and peter looks absolutely daft and not at all reliable for conversation. james, well, he's looking at you, as though he wants you to feel welcomed to join their conversation. how silly.

"you excited for the sorting?" james asks.

you nod. sirius has hauled you here unwillingly, and so you'll let him respond, as he seems beside himself to do so, "my money's on gryffindor. she's pretty stubborn."

james seems quite captivated with the idea, "that'd make you the first lestrange to be a gryffindor, wouldn't it?"

you are sure there's some sort of jab in there, but james is smiling. like really, really widely. a big, stupid, cheerful smile, and his hair is a terrible mess. he looks like a muggle, and if your father could see you now, you'd never be let outside again.

"she will," sirius tells them confidently, but really, it seems like he wants it to be true more for the sake of argument than anything else, "bet."

"three sickles."

"fine!"

you don't care to gamble, even if there's a great deal of pride involved. betted sickles or no. you decide it'll be best to observe as you settle comfortably. a new role, you’d make quite the actress. perhaps your likeness will be printed in the papers alongside lindy witchermore and gabriette merlot.

the view outside the window melts into endless plains. the sky grows a tad darker, hiding the sunshine, and everything becomes an amorphous smudge.

james ropes the boys into a lengthy discussion of quidditch and this is where you start wondering about regulus. did he and even find barty? and matilda and marzy? did matilda wear her new, pretty bow? if she did, you'll feel very jealous and entirely slighted. you wish you had a cute, fuzzy bow, but then the poodle comparisons really wouldn't stop.

james continues, completely oblivious. maybe that's just how he is. maybe, then, remus is more attentive, because he tilts his head at you a tad inquisitively, "are you interested in quidditch?"

your timidity allows for only a miniscule shake of the head.

suddenly, you're the centre of attention, and your guts get a little icky.

"what? maybe you just don’t know how it works," james quips, "s' alright, i’ll explain." and, merlin, please, can someone save you.

"this idiot here," sirius tells you, turning very swiftly, "believes he's the best player in the nation, and he's not even on the bloody quidditch team yet-"

"-but i'm auditioning this year! it's only cuz they don't allow first years to join the team-"

"-doesn't matter, cuz i'm still winning this year's competition, hands down-

"-wish you luck, sirius," peter interjects. he sounds completely unenthusiastic in his effort to join the argument. you're surprised he could manage, if his awkward stature was anything to go by. his knees, you note, touch his hands, even though he's sitting. very slouched. not how father would teach. but he doesn't seem too self-conscious.

the theme of sports continues. the trolley passes and they cluster to buy sweets, purchasing some extra for you. and extra in general. james spares no expenses, and then sirius goes to match, because apparently, everything's a competition between them, and so your dingy little compartment is slew with candy and you have no appetite.

really, the wrappers make your head spin, and it's much too warm. rain plasters on the window, and for a moment, the windowpane reflects you perfectly, a little face peering in, like it's trying to jam it's way inside.

barty, often, if he knew he did something bad, would beg you in a raspy voice to not snitch. not to his parents. you knew and he knew that if the occasion ever called for it, you were not above a good gossip. and so you would sit with his mother and sisters in the parlour room, holding matching, pretty teacups, and you would feel like an outsider weighted by information you never wanted to have.

much like now. all this menial chatter. an inside into sirius' social life that exists so far from the confines of familial relations. you have never seen him so happy, and when aunt walburga inquires of his moods because he won't be bothered to send an owl back, you will not know whether to lie or tell the truth.

in another time and place, you could possibly imagine regulus here, too. or maybe that would just make him feel worse. his isolation. always feeling the lesser. he'd be miserable in this company, but then the burden could be shared with two, and you wouldn't feel as lonely.

of course, that won't be an option. in this one, or the other.

***

your rescue arrives shy of an hour into your stay in that stuffy compartment. narcissa’s cold gaze cuts through the chatter instantaneously, and the overhead lights flicker on slowly to illuminate her haughty expression. how absolutely beautiful she is, even in the storm’s background. the plastic wrappers slide from the seats and puddle by your feet. the shuffle, the rain, the excited spur of your little heart. she regards each of them, pausing on sirius, “cousin.”

“cousin,” his face has scrunched up, as though he ate something sour.

a trace of a smile on her lips, all because of his displeasure. she turns to you, “let’s go.”

twice, today, you’ve been requested. twice, you have no say. while this does imply a certain necessity of your presence – an astounding popularity, how beloved you truly are! – you can only shudder at the thought at what other surprise will occur on this momentous day.

you move, but sirius stops you, “she wants to be here.”

“she needs to greet the rest of the family,” her voice carries a certain finality. no one dares to protest, and you pry yourself away before sirius thinks of a comeback scalding enough to earn him a smacking. or a howler, at the very least.

the corridor has become much more quiet. the doors are closed, and you don’t dare to peel your eyes away from her new kitten heels as you follow after.

cissy needn’t say much for you to know you’ve disappointed her. to be caught with sirius’ crowd is to step into dangerous territory. you feel as though you must explain yourself, because you don’t wish for her ire, nor do you wish for her indifference, “thank you. i didn’t know how to get away. you know how he can be.”

she sighs, “unfortunately, yes, i am quite familiar with his antics. always scheming up his silly, little plans, that one. he really is far too meddlesome, even moreso when it comes to you," she stops, only for you to catch up. looks at you proper, with her chin slightly tilted down to your level, "very clingy."

this pleases you a bit. no matter how irritating the boys can get, they are a sort of constant that brings you peace of mind. no matter the time, no matter the day, there is always at least one that is by your side. not having that would leave you rather desolate.

"they've gotten worse," she says, "what are we to do with such little gentlemen?"

your heart flutters at her mention of we. a sign of inclusion. her fond tone. perhaps the others don't hear her that way, and you certainly won't inform them of her secretly mushy nature, but there isn't a better friend than narcissa. there never will be. not even the others, though bonded far closer, will ever understand you as she does.

"how did you find me?" you ask.

she huffs, as if it's much too obvious, "regulus."

so he has been dutifully working behind the scenes to retrieve you. oh, how your mood improves! all in one day. not that it was bad, no, rather the opposite, but it is relieving to finally return to where you're meant to be.

and the compartment you're meant to be in is much too crowded. there's evan arguing with bartimus over a game of explosive sap, and there's matilda (no bow!) and marzy clamouring to out-pride each other, and there's regulus, the one that notices you first and the one that jumps up to offer you a seat, even if, well, you'd all fit anyway.

"finally," barty calls over his shoulder as you're safely returned, and cissy continues down the walkway, "what have you been up to, hm? the first train ride for larly toppings."

"larly toppings?" you murmur.

his mouth thins in an unimpressed line, "read more."

"she doesn't know how," regulus chimes, and oddly, you've missed the ease of his dull remarks. no matter if you were separated mere hours, your hearts have been made lighter just through proximity.

matilda snorts, "lay off, whiny. he's been moaning about your absence since he lost sight of you."

"have not!" he states hotly.

 evan lifts a curious brow, but his eyes remain fixed on the game.

"she was stuck," regulus tries to explain, "with my brother and his horrible friends. evan?"

he shrugs, "didn't think that'd stop her from walking away."

matilda is absolutely tickled. even you cannot help but laugh at the exasperated expression on reggie's face. marzy scoots and eagerly pats the seat beside her, which you happily take. it earns you a glare from the younger black, who plops back down next to the boys.

bartimus clicks his tongue and tosses a wrapped sweet into his mouth, "our darling is, and shall forever be, delicate and fragile," an aside glance, "of the utmost importance, and we have pledged a solemn duty to defend her honour from that reprobate of a cousin. it's for his own good. he simply doesn't understand, being so young and such."

your nose wrinkles. how pretentious, even if half-right. but, fine, you'll play along, if only to appease your friend and give him some reason to not glower at all hours of the day. he can be very grouchy when the situation calls.

"tell us, c'mon," marzy nudges, "meet cousin's friends?"

you shudder, "they're absolutely horrid. dreadful," you elaborate, and they nod along eagerly, "simply wretched, and so loud. all they talk about is quidditch."

the boys snap at attention.

"quidditch?!" they screech.

"ugh," matilda makes a face, "boring."

"i'm not a fan," marzy agrees.

"don't care for it," matilda adds.

"yeah, cuz you're girls," barty states, "what do you lot know of entertainment?"

"hey! i take offense," matilda throws an empty packet at him, and he moves to poke her.

evan rubs his temples and offers you a weak smile. at least he understands.

"so what's your favourite team?"

"oo, they'll talk about it for hours," matilda rolls her eyes.

marzy's lower lip pokes out, "because it's their 'hobby.'"

you snicker, "chasing balls like dogs. recon they'd be so enthusiastic over a bone?"

"brave words, poodle," regulus bristles.

"i recon you’d know better about chasing your tail," you bite back.

he tugs on your ear, "ow, stop it, let go you idiot!"

the girls scramble to help, "you don't do that!"

and he is towed off of you, thrown on the seat beside evan by two particularly vehement ladies. it takes no time for them to commence the lecturing, which quickly delves into the heartfelt portion of their speech, filled with high pitched, intonations and tears and the like.

"you must stop and consider your actions! we love her dearly, and can't stand to see her so distressed. surely you have noticed a great change in her disposition, not to mention-"

and barty makes a great mistake in trying to defend the great offender, and so he receives an earful, too, "how could you simply sit there and watch her be treated like that? and then dare to stand up for-"

"fine. alright, already!"

beneath his scuffling and exasperated state, barty almost smiles. and the girls tussle his hair, and turn to you, all watered eyes and frowns. "if there is ever an issue, you can tell us," marzy says, "i'll tell theodore! brother will sort the boy right out."

"maybe his mother, too," matilda suggests.

you feign being torn, "no, no! i couldn't."

"we can, but fine, it's your call."

"can't believe this," regulus mutters.

evan grimaces and turns to him, "all in good fun. i think."

the commotion dies down for a moment as marzy fishes out her tissues – one for matilda, one for herself, and one for you. to dab the tears glistening in the corners of your eyes, of course. it’s a very delicate, grown up gesture. mrs nott is an emotional woman, and you three had learned a lot from watching her sob at luncheons (at spring, specifically, when there’s clouds of pollen in the air).

regulus looks at you and asks, "want a caramel?"

you look at him for a while, a rather dumbfounded look about you, and shake your head no. you take the lemon one instead, for the irony of it.

and with that, you all settle, in a very serene manner, a slight disturbance now and again from the rolling tracks. the others talk over you as you look over your treat, thoughtful and malleable. no, it seems that, in this manner, life will continue unchanged. even after school is established, this, your circle, will endure and persist, and you won't have a need to leave anyone, no matter what comes between you.

oh, but what of sirius? you would so like for him to get along with your rowdy lot. but it's no good, if it's him, because he has his own group, and he wants nothing to do with yours. still, you would share your treat with him, and he wouldn't like the flavour but he would pretend that he did to make you happy.

cissy words linger, but you don't understand why. nor any deeper implications. you will yourself not to think of such things.

***

a quick summary of events before this very moment:

one, after the sugar rush, your compartment had died down significantly. seats were changed, and while inspecting the tome on the history of hogwarts (terrible read, really, you'll detest history of magic, you just know it!) you and regulus had fallen asleep.

two, bartimus had accidentally left explosive crackers by an unassuming door leading to a compartment occupied, accidentally, by muggles, which spooked them immensely. they fled like puffskins in each and every direction as the fireworks cackled and smoke billowed, lingering in the corridor. this is how he met frank longbottom, a gryffindor prefect, and received a stern warning, which only left him pondering about further opportunities of mischief.

three, evan, searching for a chocolate frog, had located a box of marzipan sweets, which greatly upset marzy, because marzipan nott is a ridiculous name and she was rightly ridiculed by bartimus for a good 15 minutes before matilda locked him out of the compartment.

four, after changing into your school uniforms, the lot of you sat in silence nursing a nasty stomach-ache.

five, you briefly saw sirius and his friends at hogsmeade station, and james potter waved at you, which upset regulus, so he didn't speak with you for the remaining boat ride. you had decided he's not worth the fuss, and simply enjoyed the cool, wet air and the gentle lull of the wooden boat drawing closer to the castle that will, from now, be considered your home. the sky, by then, had cleared, and the moon was split in half by the astronomy tower.

the great hall is astoundingly grand. your shoes echo and the chattering whispers are a pleasant buzz. it seems as though no one quite wants to separate. your friends surround you, admiring the enchanted sky and the warm twinkle of floating candles. "they're everywhere. look."

regulus points, as he noticed first, and you move your head to follow their patterns. you've never seen anything like it before. it's quite a thing, how all the children look upward, stumbling after professor mcgonagall and closer and closer to the sorting hat. sat atop a rickety stool, you try to catch a glimpse at it, though all you can see is the pointy tip.

on your left sits the slytherin table, with cissy and rabastan; to your right is sirius with his friends, and further is hufflepuff, and further still is ravenclaw. marzy, unable to help herself, waves at her brother, and you see him stand and wave back, a new, shiny ravenclaw prefect badge pinned to his robes.

"oh," she sounds very distressed, and her tanned skin blotches a deep rose, "i hope i'm in ravenclaw," she utters, then snaps, "no!" she turns to you and regulus, stood shoulder to shoulder, taken aback by the fervour in her voice, "slytherin. i don't want to be without you."

barty shrugs, "plenty of chances. we'll come for a visit anyway."

"of course we will," you confirm, and pat her arm gently.

"you'll do well wherever you are," matilda pats her arm, too.

you'd like to say the sorting doesn't matter much at all, but it does. ravenclaw is not too egregious, however, and it would bely an intelligence you didn't know she had, which would be a pleasant surprise to everyone. hufflepuff is tolerable. the only hufflepuff you know is aunt berry yaxley, but no one talks to her much.

gryffindor is off limits, but marzy would never fit the criteria. you, however...

bartimus gives the both of you a sceptical look. the chatter dims for a moment as dumbledore stands and delivers his yearly introduction. the sorting hat starts singing, and the lyrics were included in the brochure, but you didn't bother reading. regulus finds singing embarrassing, so the two of you hum along, but bartimus, unsurprisingly, has quite a pair of lungs on him.

finally, the sorting begins. professor mcgonagall unfurls a lengthy parchment, and the hall hushes eagerly. you feel the tension slowly settle on your shoulders as the names are called. to some, this is simply a sorting. to you, it will decide your fate.

"black, regulus," and the pin drop silence is slightly unnerving. you glance at reggie as he glances at you, and you don't have time to read his expression before he's off, weaving through the students to take a seat under the brim of the worn sorting hat. you clasp your hands together tightly.

"SLYTHERIN!"

clapping erupts. all of you brim with happy smiles, but regulus remains stoic. his eyes dart to gryffindor before he shuffles to join cissy, growing more miserable as the slytherin table drowns him in congratulations.

"crouch, bartimus," mcgonagall sounds.

"expelled," matilda hisses, and to the surprise of all, barty doesn't flip her the bird.

the hat covers his eyes before, "SLYTHERIN!"

and he's much happier to receive the standing ovation. you can see it on his face: the rush, the pride when he slides onto his bench, a smug, lopsided grin etched onto his features, right beside a quiet regulus.

a few more names, and then yours. the crowd shushes again. this year holds many important names, some youngest members of the secret twenty eight. all eyes, on you, again, and marzy nudges you to move as your gaze gets stuck on sirius. he seems hopeful. a small smile lifts his lips and you feel yourself breathe in and hold.

your fingers shake, but you walk with your back straight, just like aunt walburga taught you.

you sit down, and mcgonagall offers you a placid smile. you'd prefer her not to draw it out and let you keep your sanity.

it barely grazes the top of your hair before it bellows, "SLYTHERIN!"

you blink, deafened by the cheering. dizzied, you stand on quivering legs, and you look to sirius, because he had assured you and himself different, but he's not even looking at you. his brows are creased and his jaw is clenched. not the way you want to see him. it was a terrible thing to wish, after all. the disappointment.

but the welcome, oh, anyone would love to be so accepted. regulus smiles, a rare, honest quirk of the lip, and he beams just a little bit when he notices the tight expression on your face, so proud and yet so filled with concern, like your happiness meant more to him than his own. you are pulled to sit beside him and barty as your robes stripe green, and cissy smiles and pats your cheek, and everything is as it should be in the world.

just not exactly how you imagined.

[gaviicreates]

FO: time flies by in the yellow and green...

...Stick around and you'll see what I mean

(there will also be more pictures under the cut)

Remember literally yesterday when I mentioned I was doing a stretchy bind-off purlwise, and I loved the fluidity of it? Well, obviously a bind off pretty much heralds the end of a project in sight so here we are. I was so eager for this one to be completed that I lightly washed the shawl and pinned it overnight so that, by today, I'd have my first finished, knitted shawl.

Pattern: Mara Shawl by Madelinetosh, available here through Ravelry

Yarn: Arcane Fibre Works, "Calm Waters" -80/20 Extra Fine Merino Nylon Super Wash Fingering Weight. (2 Skeins)

Tools: Clover Takumi Bamboo Circulars - US 5 3.75mm, Eucalan Lavender Wash for blocking

This shawl is a garter stitch shawl with yarn overs down the center and sides to both increase and add a bit of lacy interest. I had actually started on this before I finished the throw blanket, so these two pieces together were so critical for my knitting journey thus far, and I've learned so much already.

While the throw maintained the upward structure of its rows, this shawl gave me the experience of increasing along the center and sides, working outward as well as up. Once I figured out the yarn-over and the cadence from row to row, the location of the yarn-overs was easy to remember. Simple, but elegant on the piece. It did take me a few rows in to figure out that a stitch marker for the RS vs WS would probably be helpful, and from there it was smooth sailing.

Almost too smooth, because I just kept going. I don't remember the cord size I used, but eventually working the stitches scrunched up on the needles, and the work curled into itself. Once that started, I had a hard time imagining what it would look like finished. I had no idea what the shaping would look like once it was off the needles, so my plan was to hope I just figured out when would be a good time to stop. Low stakes winging it, if you will.

She's big. This is no shawlette you behold. The length surpasses my wingspan on both sides, and the drape down the back is lovely and full while the fabric itself is light and breathable between the stitches. I think because the needles were a bit bigger than recommended size for fingering weight, this resulted in some space between the stitches.

I'm dreaming of that first cool day of fall, and wrapping myself up with her covering my shoulders pinned with a nice brooch, or rolled into a scarf around my neck over denim. She's going to be a wonderful addition to my wardrobe, and I am ecstatic with the final length and look.

I mentioned above I used two skeins. Another learning curve for me - one I intentionally played with here - was the way the colors fell. I don't think it's a crochet thing specifically because I know opinions still vary, but coming from a craft that tends to create potentially less ordered fabrics with variegated yarns, I'm kind of open to color pooling at times. It's not for everyone, but I think there's a fun little magic in letting the colors land the way they want to in both crafts it seems.

I started with one skein, then switched to alternating after a while to learn that technique, then ended with one skein again as I finished out the project. I was nervous about this choice, especially as I started seeing entire blocks of yellow forming. But in the final garment, I don't feel like these larger streaks take away from the color combination. I'm loving that it's not uniform and there's a bit of fun and randomness to how the colors fall.

Towards the final rows, the pattern switched from garter to 1x1, then 2x2 ribbing, which I could see being a great opportunity to switch out to another color to complement. But I really wanted to have my yellow and green shawl, so I decided to keep working up with the same yarn. Plus I am kind of in love with seeing how different stitches create a new texture that gives the colors in a variegated yarn a bit of a different life to them.

Now - I do have one more skein of this colorway, as I had bought a just-in-case extra. I am thinking my big shawl needs a little something else to go with it - maybe a hat or some fingerless gloves, oooh! or some socks.

Now, I have... how many more months till I can wear this?

[booksrbetterthanpeople]

Uhh… AU based on @maddascanbe-blog’s A Vengeful Butterfly fic

Canon events are the same, only Camilo isn’t as influenced by Alma’s bullshit. He LOATHES how the rest of the family treats Mirabel and he will not hesitate to back her up

Whenever he tries standing up for Mirabel, he’s either rebuffed, or Mirabel is chastised for being a “bad influence”. And Mirabel’s just used to all of this and doesn’t care anymore. She mostly just spends her days in her room, sewing, and the rest of the family doesn’t bother to check on her. When Julieta or Augustin tries, it is just terrible. They lead with that, “You’re just as special as anyone else” bullshit

The only one safe from him is Antonio because he’s baby

As Chameleon, he’s the only member of the Encantos who doesn’t cause too much destruction or harm to villains. He kind of lost respect for his mother after she struck a thief with lightning. And they only stole a loaf of bread

After a lousy family dinner where Alma berates Mirabel for God-knows-what this time, Camilo sneaks out of his room late at night to blow off some steam. He doesn’t expect to be followed by a glowing white butterfly. It leads him into an old building where he finds two boxes, each with a brooch inside

When he gets back home, he tries on the purple brooch, and before his eyes, a purple butterfly-looking sprite named Nooroo appears. Then, he puts on the blue brooch, and a blue peacock-looking spire named Duusu appears. When they introduce themselves a bit more and their powers, Camilo isn't all too impressed since he comes from a family of superhumans, but then he gets an idea. He can give the Miraculous to Mirabel, and, hopefully, Alma will stop treating her like trash!

However, after what had to be one of the worst missions ever, with Matriarch barking orders instead of doing anything, Tempest causing all sorts of collateral damage, and Alchemist healing civilians to cover up any injuries, Chameleon realizes something... He's not putting Mirabel through this! He was almost crushed by debris, and Matriarch just told him to deal with it! And the press is once again putting the Encantos in a good light, and the civilians are eating it up

Tired of it all, Camilo dons the Butterfly Miraculous and becomes Emperador, the new villain of the city of Veil. Until the citizens see the corruptness of the Encantos, he's going to keep sending out Akumas for them to face. He doesn't expect a ladybug and a cat-themed hero to show up and defeat each of his Akumas, though. But, now Veil will see what true heroes look like

He renounces his hero status one day, Alma is furious, but he doesn't give a damn, and now he's the third black sheep

Anyway, more notes

He has a Phantom of The Opera mask because it's Camilo. And he is a theater nerd

Camilo and Lia get along. He's like the annoying brother she never had. They're the founding members of the, "We love Mirabel, but we hate the rest of her family, sans Camilo and Antonio" club. They got three more members, and all are more than determined to make this girl smile again

He's EXTREMELY protective in this au and will backtalk Alma and Isabela whenever they stop acting like adults and bully Mirabel for literally no reason

He discovers from Mirabel that Bruno left, but never actually left. He also finds out that Bruno is the mysterious Ladybug-themed hero! And he couldn't be more thrilled. His tío deserves some recognition for being a decent hero, and as his loving sobrino, he'll go easy on him... Maybe.

During Hero's Day, it's all the same, except Mirabel finds the Peacock Miraculous instead of Antonio. Duusu tells her what Camilo's been doing, and she's left shocked and unsure what to think until she looks at the live feed on her phone, and sees Emperador being cornered by Cochinelle and Lady Void. Mirabel transforms into Zafiro and sends out an Amok so Emperador can escape. They meet up back at Casita and hug each other while crying

[raevil]

⸻  RAEVIL’S  LIGHTSTICKS  ! 

active since 2016, RAEVIL raised up a storm with their controversial yet very popular debut! during their first two years of promoting, GLASSHOUSE occasionally teased about their upcoming lightstick, but refused to officially announce anything. finally, after almost three years since their debut, the company informed that their first lightstick was in the making.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ — ib. /frmjudy & /venusvity !

EVILBONG VER. #ONE : released on august 15th, 2019.

officially called EVILBONG, RAEVIL's first lightstick was complimented for looking sleek yet fitting their concept to a t. the lightstick features a white dome, with the group's unofficial logo in the centre of a circle surrounded by vines. right underneath the orb, there is a brooch with a 3d serpent design, which fans connected with RAEVIL's second single, SERPENT, which was released a year before. the handle has the group's name engraved into it, and there's an option for NEMESIS to buy a special version where they could submit their name / alias to be engraved at the back of the handle.

after the lightstick dropped, there were so many photos and selfies of members holding it and waving it around with lights turned on. the lightstick's manual came as a mini booklet, with members featured inside, showing how to use the lightstick with different modes. they were made to look like they came out of a comic book, which fans loved to see because it was the first time the group did something so cute since their debut.

MODEL NAME : EVILBONG ( VER. #ONE )

LIGHTSTICK POWER : AAA SIZE x 3EA

USAGE TIME : UP TO 3 HOURS

LIGHT COLOURS : JACK-O'-LANTERN ( #e17958 ) & OUIJA SPIRIT BOARD ( #dcd4d1 ) ー FANDOM COLOURS + TEARS OF BLOOD ( #cd0027 ) FOR DIFFERENT LIGHT MODES

LIGHT MODES : ON + FLICKER + DIMMING + REVERSE + ROTATION + CONCERT MODE + OFF

CONTENT : OUTBOX ( 95mm x 95mm x 300mm ) + STRAP + MINI BOOKLET MANUAL + STICKER SET ( 1EA ) + MEMBER PHOTOCARDS ( 7EA ) + RANDOM MEMBER POLAROID ( 2EA ) + A THANK YOU NOTE FOR PURCHASING ( WRITTEN BY MEMBERS THEMSELVES )

REALBONG VER. #TWO : released on october 30th, 2023.

released on the group's seventh anniversary, REALBONG is significantly more popular than EVILBONG, which says a lot, considering the first lightstick received almost a million pre-orders not even two weeks after being announced. the second one doubled that during the same period, making it the most wanted lightstick from GLASSHOUSE artists. the new design is made to look like a dome cage instead of their simple look and the lights are coming from the crystal inside of the cage, made to look like a torch once turned on. instead of their signature serpent brooch, REALBONG has an intricate design that no one seems to guess correctly as to what it is. the buttons to use the lightstick are in the back instead of the front, are easy to use and fans are able to swing it around with no worries they'll accidentally press the lightstick off.

this time, instead of a booklet manual, the fans received a simple QR code printed on the box, which, upon being scanned, would bring them to GLASSHOUSE's official website, where they'd be able to watch private video instructions of RAEVIL members showing how to turn it on and the modes it has. the idea of getting such an interesting manual received considerable attention, that it prompted someone to leak it on social media for people who don't have their lightstick or are not even their fans.

MODEL NAME : REALBONG ( VER. #TWO )

LIGHTSTICK POWER : AAA SIZE x 3EA

USAGE TIME : UP TO 5 HOURS

LIGHT COLOURS : JACK-O'-LANTERN ( #e17958 ) & OUIJA SPIRIT BOARD ( #dcd4d1 ) ー FANDOM COLOURS + TEARS OF BLOOD ( #cd0027 ) & PALE FACED ( #ffffff ) FOR DIFFERENT LIGHT MODES

LIGHT MODES : ON + BLINK + FLICKER + DIMMING + REVERSE + ROTATION + CONCERT MODE + OFF

CONTENT : OUTBOX ( 100mm x 100mm x 305mm ) + DUST BAG + STRAP + QR CODE + STICKER SET ( 1EA ) + MEMBER PHOTOCARDS ( 7EA ) + RANDOM MEMBER POLAROID ( 2EA ) + A THANK YOU NOTE FOR PURCHASING ( WRITTEN BY MEMBERS THEMSELVES )

[theofficersacademy]

This year, in order to study Pasithee's mysterious illusion magic, the bishops of the church have set up a magical ballroom separate from the main party, where you can don a mask and dance with other masked strangers to your heart's content.

Welcome to the Masquerade!

The masquerade is an optional side-event within the Ethereal Ball. The Ethereal Ball has its own event conditions, so whether or not you participate in the masquerade will have no bearing on whether or not you can claim your prizes at the end.

Off in the corner of the ballroom is a mysterious illusory portal maintained by the bishops of the church. In order to enter, you must be wearing a mask, but once inside, you will witness an opulence you could only ever dream of. Inside is a beautiful, extravagant room of marble floors and chiseled columns, crystal chandeliers, and diamond chalices. A fine mist swirls about, lending an even more mysterious ambiance to the masquerade.

Inside, as long as you are wearing your mask, all other identifying features will be hidden from your partners via magic. Your partners can uncover who your muse is based on behavior or if you choose to reveal it yourself, but otherwise you must suspend your disbelief about how much the mask can actually conceal your identity.

How to Play

1. Everyone who submitted a mask last week can participate. If you did not submit a mask and would like to participate, DM Mod N directly for one. However, do be aware that making Mod N create new masks after we set up 10 days for you to submit earlier will detract from the amount of time Mod N can enjoy the event himself. We don't recommend this.

2. Follow the TOA Masquerade blog: @toa-masquerade

3. Submit a starter to the blog's submission box or pursue the starters that have been posted already. When you submit a starter, the mods will add your mask to the post and tag it with a unique thread number so that you can add it to your stats page later. For the sake of the game, try to remain as anonymous as you can, so we recommend not formatting your posts.

4. When you find a post that you want to respond to, submit your reply to the masquerade blog via the submission box. Be sure to include the LINK to the post that you're responding to so that the mod team can reblog the correct one. We will add your mask and the unique thread tag to the post.

5a. You may reveal your muse's identity at any time, after which you can continue reblogging the thread from your muse's own blog.

5b. Keeping in mind that the name of the game, prior to unmasking, is the idea of going incognito: you are still allowed to exchange brooch decorations while masked, but you will, until the end of event OR until said muse has revealed themselves if they should choose to do so, be unaware of exactly which decoration you have received.

6. To best keep the game flowing, the mod team highly encourages keeping posts short (ideally < 200 words)!

7. In the event that multiple people attempt to reply to the same starter, the first person to reply to it will be posted. All other parties will be DM'd by a moderator to let them know of what occurred and will be given the opportunity to repurpose their reply into an open starter instead if they so choose.

8. All posts will be tagged by the mod team with #toamasquerade2024

And that’s it! If you have any questions or concerns, please let the mods know!

- The House Leaders

[doctorghoti]

Tokyo Debunker: A Review

I just finished Episode 3's storyline, which I think is pretty far in to give a proper review of this game. If you want a TL;DR version, I like the story but find the other mechanics overwhelming and not always implemented well to the point I can't exactly recommend the game in this stage. And I definitely wouldn't spend real money on it. For more specifics, keep on reading.

Story

The story is simple enough: you play as a girl who gets swept into magic shenanigans. After getting cursed by an anomaly, you are made to go to a magic high school with seven dorms. Because of another event that happened right after you got into school, you also have the ability to enhance some students' powers, so now you gotta hang out with all these boys with supernatural abilities. What is a girl to do around all these ikemen?

I've made the Twisted Wonderland comparison in joke posts already, but I will say this story seems to have more focus on the rivalry and tensions between not just the dorms but those with power and those without (this school has regular human students as well). While I love (nay, obsess) over TWST, I have to give props to Debunkers for feeling a little more fleshed out in terms of school interactions. Feel like TWST's dorm rivalry happened in Book 2 and Book 4 before being kinda brushed off. This game also goes a little more into horror territory, but not to the extent you may have seen in YouTube ads. It also isn't afraid to get graphic, but whether that makes it edgier or "edgier" is up to player discretion.

The characters are also pretty unique once you get to know them past their initial profiles when starting the game. Many of them still have secrets at this stage, and I keep coming back to this game specifically because I want to know more about them. The story, however, is where many of the positives end.

Fighting

In order to continue the story, at some points you’ll need to do cases, otherwise known as "beat up some monsters." The higher levels you reach, the more of the story you can read. That’s fair enough, and it’s a mechanic in many gacha games. However, there’s hiccups that make it harder than it should be.

There are three elements, with each character having one. Simple enough. Both your characters and the enemies have an element, and using elemental weaknesses to your advantage makes fighting easier. You know what doesn’t make that component easier? Having to memorize all your cards’ elements.

Unlike Twisted Wonderland or Magia Record, you cannot tell what element your enemy is going to be until you’re in the fight. Also unlike those games, you can’t even see the elements your cards have unless you’re in the leveling screen, meaning there’s no way to prepare your team without going back and forth between the teams menu (which doesn’t show elements), the leveling menu, and the case itself if you don’t remember your enemy’s element.

The nice thing, however, is that you can press the skip button on fights and get your outcome instantly. So while there is a grind, you don't have to watch your screen. The fights are all automatic as well, so you don't have to do anything, really. In terms of strategizing, however, the latter may not be the most beneficial, especially since, again, elements are a component in fighting. If it weren't for the fact I have to do cases to read the story, I wouldn't do cases at all. Not just for the reasons above, but also the reason below.

Leveling

Too. Fucking. Much. There are the basic components, like level and equipment, but there is so much friggin’ equipment. There's the ward card, which is a type of boost you get through summoning or getting to certain parts of the story/getting to a certain level and which can be leveled up; there's earrings, perfume, rings, necklaces, and brooches, which are equipment you get through the AFK system (more on that later) or, as I literally just learned today, through crafting; and there are guardian spirits, which you get from the spirit shop, and which can be leveled up as well. There's also gems, which you can equip to ward cards and the jewelry/perfume you craft but not the ones you earn.

A lot, right? But none of that even touches on potential (which levels specific stats of your character card but I still don't quite get), the special attributes of the ward cards, the potency grade vs level of ward cards, link bonuses for characters and ward cards, the grading system for wards, equipment, spirits-- I think these long paragraphs make my point for me. The amount of areas to keep track of is overwhelming. And save for the jewelry from AFK mode, pretty much all other items have to be summoned with some in-game currency, and in-game currency is also hard to keep track of with how many types there are.

Now, in good news, AFK mode allows you to collect a lot of the main items you need for basic leveling and a lot of the currency. Along with the more basic jewelry, you get apples (needed for leveling) and a few other items needed for leveling. But with all the other aspects to consider, it's not the most helpful thing in the world.

Gacha

Now, I've made little mention of the gacha mechanic in this gacha game. Simply put, it's atrocious. It's hard to earn gems, but that's nothing new for this game type. However, the pull rates make the grind worse. One only achieves pity at 500 pulls. Unless you buy gems with real life money, no way are you going to hit 500 on any limited run. I have 14 characters right now, enough to make two full squads with two guys to spare, but only 2 of them are SR. Like Magia Record, you don't just draw for characters, you draw for ward cards as well, which makes getting characters harder. I have more SR ward cards than characters. Maybe I'm spoiled by TWST, but I miss character pulls focusing on characters. But even with games like FGO in mind, I got better characters each pull in that game even with their criticized draw rates.

Overall

If you want a story with interesting characters, magic, and demons, I say go for it. If you don't like resource gathering games and easily get turned off mobile games by the grind, skip this one.

There's other aspects in this review I didn't go over, like the guild cats, arena, team boss battles, etc., but if all the above is too much, I'm not going to add on to the reading even further.