#she could have been INTERESTING. She could have had NUANCE

[x-i-l-verify]

Stolas is a moral scapegoat – "a character that is bad, but the book/movie/show portrays them as good". It's characterized by the story twisting itself to make one character look good.

Helluva Boss takes place in Hell. A horrible place filled with horrible people, the root of all evil. Stolas fits right in there. He was already problematic, awful, fed into Hell's broken system. Why try to cover up his faults? It's Hell, and it was great. But now, we're supposed to pretend he's just flawed.

Why Stolas is a Terrible Person/Character

Oh this will be long. In this post I will cover why Stolas is a character that fundamentally fails at everything it tries to accomplish. I probably have to say that you can love Stolas. That's just why I hate him.

Trigger warnings for: Racism, casteism, power dynamics, sexual assault, sa apologism, abuse, and neglectful parenting. A lot, I know, but that's Stolas.

His Actions in S1

Despite the title, there will be two examples from season 2.

Racism/Casteist

Stolas is from the upper caste, a royal. He seem to often fetishize imps, or the fact that he's sleeping with someone who's less than him. I even saw fans pointing this out. He have empathized Blitzø being an imp in a sexual context.

(Notice the use of words: "little", "plaything", to me this is blatant racism and fetishism).

He also showed a certain lack of empathy for his imp butler.

Stolas isn't particularly violent, he doesn't choke people left and right. He's just angry, at Stella, so he decides to.. choke the imp.

Stolas has been dehumanizimg imps. Fetishizing an imp for being an imp, calling him an "impish little plaything", and he has been willing to choke an imp just because he was angry at something unrelated. He's racist and casteist.

Treatment of Blitzø

"Treatment" is putting it lightly. In the first episode, Stolas does something inexcusable that will taint their dynamic for all of season 1. First, he sees Blitzø in a vulnerable position, where he cannot think or negotiate. Thus, stripping him of what little choice he has on what he's about to offer.

What Stolas is saying is, "Fuck me or I'll shut down your business". This deal he makes is just a threat with extra steps. Which, is a real life abuse tactic called Quid Pro Quo:

"Quid pro quo harassment occurs when someone in a position of authority over another directly or indirectly demands sexual favors in exchange for some benefit, or to avoid some detriment in the workplace".

One element I haven't brought up yet, is the political power imbalance. Stolas is royalty, one with a lot of power, influence, credibility, etc. Blitzø has non of that. Other characters have commented on that the fact that Blitzø even has a business is a miracle.

There are so many layers of imbalance and how Blitzø has no choice or agency. A royal is """offering""" the powerless a Quid Pro Quo while he's in a life threatening situation.

And their dynamic looks exactly like you'd imagen. Stolas is consistently sexualizing him against his consent. (As it's been established, Stolas's racism feeds into this). And refuses to do the surface level courtesy, not even calling him his real name (x).

Stolas treats Blitzø as a lesser being, violates his boundries, forces himself on him, and strips him of all autonomy.

Faliure as a Father

Stolas's role as a father is directly tackled in Loo Loo Land and Seeing Stars. At the beginning, both episodes show Stolas being a good father to Octavia, but does this still hold true in the currect day? Well, no.

In Loo Loo Land, Stolas wants to take Octavia to a theme park. Octavia is 17, and Stolas ignores her when she says she doesn't want to go. (In retrospect, Stolas coud be oblivious because he's projecting onto Via his experience meeting Blitzø).

But that's just the start. Stolas then invites Blitzø to the trip and harasses with him all throughout. Essentially, Stolas is forcing his daughter to watch as he harasses "the homewrecker", all the while he's supposed to be with her, on a trip she didn't even want to go to.

After a whole day of this, as expected, Octavia runs away. Stolas chases her. (And of course, he's still thinking of Blitzø on his way to find Via). There's an apology scene that looks deep, but when you dissect it, it's rather empty.

Stolas never actually provided an explanation as to why he just did what he did, nor of the "drama" with Stella. There is nothing here. Octavia only makes up with him because he said he isn't gonna leave her. Which is bare minimum.

After he realizes that his affair hurts his daughter to the point where she feared he's gonna leave her, what does he do? What practical actions does he take to improve? Divorce Stella? Cut off his deal with Blitzø? Explained the situation?

Nothing. And now we see he's willing to stand up on a stage and let people know.

In Seeing Stars, Stolas bashes Via's mother to her. Which, does she know about their situation? Does she not? She isn't shown to hate or.. anything Stella. Is he hiding the situation (which I'll cover), while also trashing her mother? That's impulsive and negligent.

But that's nothing. She later runs away, Stolas is stressed as he should be, but the second they arravie on earth he's all calm and everything's normal.

When his daughter is missing. When he is shown to be stressed, it's for the sake of plot. But he's willing to just chill, watching Blitzø's show.

Stolas is, dare I say it, neglectful. He might care about his daughter, but he's proven that she's not enough of a priority to focus on her when it matters.

Cheating

Yes, I know what ended up being revealed, I'll cover that. In season 1, the relationship is presented to not be perfect before Stolas cheated.

But there were instances that showed that what Stolas did changed their relationship for the worse. (Some additional rebuttals).

It could have been a loveless marrige, they could hae fallen out of love, they could have been arranged. But their relationship was manageable. Love or no love, it's a committed relationship. and Stella didn't deserve to get cheated on.

Who was Stolas?

Stolas's behavior is common among royals. Stella has no problem throwing said butler at Stolas (S1 E2), and the Goetias are shown to be casteist. They're untouchable privileged assholes. Stolas was born that wealth, never having to suffer the consequences of his actions. Always putting himself first, hurting others. He doesn't mean to, he wants for everyone to be happy, he does care. However, when it actually matters, he acts on his worst tendecises with no self control. He never had to learn self control. That is, until Ozzie's.

Before Ozzie, Blitzø and Stolas are at obligation. Stolas's actions had tainted them. There was one redeemable moment: He saved Blitzø's life. Stolas did something for him. But this one act of goodness doesn't magically fix anything.

Stolas's family life have been escalating. Stella hated Stolas for cheating and his daughter just had to take it. In Loo Loo Land, he learns the full weight of the damage he caused. And in the next episode we see him, he proceeds to take no steps to improve the situation. In the end of that same episode, we learn that Stella hired an assasin after him. Because he did nothing.

The season 1 finale, Ozzie's, is aware of all of this and absolutly delivers.

The episode starts with seeing Stolas alone, in his big house, miserable. It appears that Stella finally left the house. (Also he later says "Octavia is with her mother this weekend"). He's eating a bowl of cereal, pitying himself, wallowing in his despair. You feel bad for him, he looks so torn down.

And then Blitzø calls. The one he loves, asks him on a serious date. It's hope, it's honest, and it's exactly what he wanted. It's almost as if the universe handed him is fairytale scenario.

Almost. Reality smacks him right in the face on that date. Asmodeus calls him out on losing everything he had. He had a family, a happy daughter, but gave it all up for an affair.

Blitzø calls him out on treating him like a pet, not earning any of that emotional connection he wants or even communicating it, just violating him, they have nothing.

The show held him accountable and called him out. While it's not perfect, Stolas is a morally grey character. Now, a character arc was set up where he learns to treat people better. Stolas is exactly the character I want to see from a show like Helluva Boss. He's a horrible person, but nuanced, who does care.

Season 2

Yeah... all of that is thrown out the window. Because apparently, Stolas is just imperfect. He simply made a lot of mistakes. He misread a lot of situations, really it's all just an accident. He's an oblivious victim. So, let's get into the woobification of Stolas.

Surrounded by Evil

In The Circus we're given Stolas's ✨️backstory✨️. And we find out he had such a terrible life.

Stella is, and always was, an abusive evil bitch. From the day she was born. Pure evil.

So you see, Stolas did nothing wrong. Let me be clear, you are not obligated to stay loyal to your abuser. We can erase "cheater" off the list. But that's the only reason why it's done. So we can erase that off the list, and that we could feel oh-so-sad for him. Because Stella isn't written to be an abuser. She's a cartoonishly evil. We see a picture of her as a kid where she's the same person. Spongebob villians have more depth than her, you know, the abuser in the adult show. Helluva Boss reversed an established dynamic where Stella is the victim and Stolas is at fault, except without any of the depth or nuance.

But that's not all. Stolas's dad (Paimon) is also neglectful. By "neglectful" I mean, of course, a Saturday-morning cartoon villain.

He doesn't remember his name. This is such bullshit. I can buy Stolas having a horrible father. It's also not bad to show Stolas's trauma. What is bad is that the subject matter is handled with less seriousness as the fish fight in Spring Broken. And Helluva Boss did write Crimson as a serious abuser, the episode did have comedy, but not Paimon.

The reason why all of this is happening, is so we could feel bad for Stolas. They do zero of the work to earn a good story about abuse, but still go "Do you see how sad he is? Look at how they're treating this poor baby!!"

"Recontextualization"

In said ✨️backstory✨️, we also learn that Stolas and Blitzø are childhood friends. But also not really, they just hung out for one day. Where did this come from? How does that enrich the characters? I would tell you, but I don't know. However, what I'm sure of, is that it's done to make Stolas look less problematic.

DO YOU SEE HOW CUT THIS IS? He isn't just horny for that imp, he is special, it's absoultly pure! Don't worry, totally safe.

Later in the flashback, we see how Blitzø and Stolas reconnected after over 20 years. Apparently... Blitzø was the one who sexually manipulated Stolas, selling him that he wants him.

All Stolas did was just buying into Blitzø's narrative he was imposed on. It's a role he leaned into, because he thought Blitzø liked it. I.. WHAT??? If this horseshit is true, why did he make this weird r*pe deal with Blitzø? If Blitzø was the one who acted like he's interested at first, and he was sexually exploiting him, why did he lash out at Stolas in Ozzie's? Did it just hold no weight for Stolas? It went from "Don't pretend to have something when you've been harassing me this whole time" to "You misunderstood".

The Stolitz backstory makes no sense, it's cheap, and fixes nothing. No matter what the story is trying to sell, in season 1 Stolas knew what's happening enough to try to force it. And maybe Stolas wanted Blitzø because of a connection, he still harassed, dehumanized and violated him.

Note: Stolas realizing "he imagened the relationship" is completely ignored one episode later in Seeing Stars. This is a huge deal, didn't he learn? Just further evidence that he's willing to violate the guy. (x)

Before this backstory, we had a story of a selfish man hurting the person he loves while explointing the broken system and the power that he has over him for his own selfish desires that he's forcing on him. Now, we have the same thing, but with fanfic tropes – and the story refuses to confront that.

Casteism is Brushed Off

Helluva Boss pretends that Stolas isn't racist, because he didn't want Blitzø for being an imp, but for being his fanfic trope childhood friend. Which fails to adress the disgusting fetishism of Blitzø for being an imp, and he also continued to dehumanize his imp butler in Seeing Stars. He's still racist.

Imperfect Father

In The Circus, Stolas devivers this line: "The only reason I have endured your constant insults and cruelty, was for that girl to have a normal life".

Sounds impressive, he stayed all these years just for his daughter. But that's the thing – it sounds impressive. Every time their relationship is the focus, Stolas is being the scum of the earth. What I see here, is a person. A person who despite being willing to stay passive, acts on his his selfish wants, forgetting to look around him. Mind you, this fact is also being revealed one episode after Ozzie's.

But no, one episode later, in Seeing Stars – that was covered as a prime example of everything I just descriped – Loona says this:

Yeah. He's just a good father "trying" his "best" and makes some.. "mistakes". The Circus did present Stolas as this, but Seeing Stars really solidified how his parenting will be handled moving forward. And I think it's comlete and utter dogshit.

Damsel in Distress

The title is a bit misleading. This section is mainly about Stolas's power being toned down. Both magical and in presentation.

In season 1, he was energetic and enthusiastic, while being able to set his foot down and intimidate when needed. He's still all of those things, but in some instances his characterization made my raise an eyebrow.

In Seeing Stars, he's being weirdly gentle with people kidnapping Blitzø and are later beatting him.

In Oops, he's excited to start negotiating with literal kidnappers. I have no idea why he's so nice.

(He did harass Blitzø again in Seeing Stars and bashed Striker, all of which isn't soft, but it's also the two moments where he should have shut up).

Further more, both of these conflict rely on Stolas not using his powers for some reason or another. Why didn't he just do whatever he did in Truth Seekers to track Fizz/Via?

About Via, I'm gonna have to call bullshit on the "My powers are limited on earth" nonsense because, for starters, kid Stolas is shown to remember the contents of his books and now he's been studying them for years. And two,

There is no excuse for Stolas to not use his powers and whenever the show says otherwise it's bullshitting its way out of it.

Even in Western Energy, before Stolas gets captured he was just aimlessly going in and out of his demon form. Why didn't he turn him into stone like he did in Loo Loo Land?

Stolas has been presented as weaker than he is. He's made to look more vulnerable, less "above it all". He was untouchable, and when he wasn't, it had a harder impact and made sense. Now, I almost forgot he's a powerful demon.

And his characterization is at the core of this issue. At times he's just so kind and gentle with people who should get smacked in their heads.

What about Ozzie's

The big clash, the one that called Stolas out on everything, the one that set him on a genuine path to grow, what about it? How is it adressed while the show tries to pretend he's a good person?

No, not the message Stolas is looking at, the ones in the background he just scrolled through.

I'm not breaking this down. I refuse. The only reason I put it here is to show how fast it goes. I'm not touching that.

Who is Stolas

Stolas is a moral scapegoat – "a character that is bad, but the book/movie/show portrays them as good". It's characterized by the story twisting itself to make one character look good.

Stolas didn't start out as one, but became one over one season premire and it just kept escalating from there.

Helluva Boss takes place in Hell. A horrible place filled with horrible people, the root of all evil. Stolas fits right in there. He was already problematic, awful, fed into Helll's broken system. Why trying to cover up his faults? It's Hell, and it was great. But now, we're supposed to pretend he's just flawed.

With the show actively ignoring everything he did, what's left for him? What does he have to learn? How will he grow as a person? How will he improve? What's his character arc? It's nothing. Because everything that happens to him isn't his fault, and at times could just be solved with one conversation.

[mamanbou]

i truly say this with no malice in my heart but black butler fans who think the series peaked at book of circus/that the circus didn't deserve their fate........... are 7 times out of 10 not really black-butler-as-a-whole fans and are very unwilling to engage with the main themes and characters of the series as a whole. BoC was a fantastic high and had tons of engaging characters but I've met people who still hate ciel bc he had doll killed and that is CRAZY. to love a side character so much that it renders you unwilling to let the main/objectively most complex and important character into your heart at all. I'm sorry that the circus died but even though they loved each other they were also child murderers- in doll's case she still is LOL- and their most important narrative role is their impact on ciel/snake (whose plotline ties back to ciel's ideas about lies becoming the truth, so still a ciel thing ultimately). anyways the best arcs are Green Witch because it's good and Book of Murder because it's funny

[ccbatman]

actually so evil how much of hal's internal world gets obliterated with the rewriting of his relationships with jessica and martin.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Stuck In Her Head

short contemporary YA coming-of-age set in Hong Kong, following two teen girls who are friends

one is a musical prodigy but has lost her passion and wants to explore different possibilities for her future

the other is passionate about music but dealing with mental health & family issues

the latter develops a crush on the former, who is aroace, and they have to re-navigate their friendship, while working on a music/coding competition project together and dealing with their own issues

[dangoulains-devotion]

yuffie has many interesting elements to her but people refuse to move past "i find energetic kids annoying" and it makes me sad

[o-wild-west-wind]

While I’m still a bit bummed that they didn’t go with a more book-aligned POC Fiyero for the Wicked movie, I’ve been thinking (heheh) about how his being white highlights the really interesting foil relationship between him and Glinda (and, in many ways, the audience yourself).

At its core, Wicked is a cautionary tale about propaganda, (literal) scapegoating, and what it means to uphold the status quo. The audience is watching through Glinda’s eyes—it is through her, arguably the most beautifully tragic character of the show, that we learn how lonely life becomes when you forfeit your values in favor of systemic power and likability (“No One Mourns the Wicked” is, in many ways, about HER).

Now, this is where Fiyero’s whiteness can get interesting—if you consider him and Glinda to share roughly equal footing at the beginning in terms of privilege/how much they have to lose (applying our real-world lens of race and power here, where whiteness is the apex), his storyline essentially represents what could have happened if Glinda had made the brave (and arguably wise and loving, if you’re picking up what I’m putting down 👀) choice to go with Elphaba and fight the good fight (this is also why I feel like a queer reading of G&E’s relationship is almost implicit to the story, but I digress).

As the POC/marginalized allegory, Elphaba has much less of a real choice in her curtain-pulled-back turning point. But Fiyero and Glinda—both representing privilege—get to choose. So in Act II, we see the consequences of both the choice to stay (Glinda) and to go (Fiyero). In Fiyero’s case, his ultimate rejection of his own power, privilege, and even beauty leads to immense physical loss—including his own body—but that is then compared to the loss of love, community, and identity that we see Glinda left with by the end. And this brings us to the question that the audience is left grappling with: in an unjust system where loss is inevitable (a.k.a. our own world, as the Wizard himself represents), which of these things are YOU more willing to give up?

It’s important that Glinda is an empathetic character because, in reality, most people are going to be Glindas (obvi this is nuanced among us Elphabas of marginalized identities, but I’d still argue that there’s some level of Glinda in us all)—and it’s important to be rattled by the end of the show when you realize that she is the one who has the sad ending. But it’s also so important that Fiyero is empathetic (which I’m SO glad this movie leaned into)—because he’s ultimately who Glinda—and thus we, as the audience—should have been.

And especially given the state of US politics right now…this is just all more relevant than ever.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Relistening to Checking Out, and I’ve always liked this scene in particular, as it is one that’s very open to interpretation.

I believe, from what I’ve seen personally at least, one or the most common interpretations is that Helen’s observation is either incorrect, or intentionally misleading, and that Jon’s response actually stems from touch aversion, or a degree of it, attributed to his trauma, particularly moments where he’s been left helpless and at the whims of others. E.g. Kidnapped by the Circus, almost killed by Daisy etc. And while I think this interpretation is both interesting and plausible, I don’t think I’ve seen much for the opposite interpretation, which is that Helen’s observation is correct.

It can be difficult to talk about Jon’s humanity sometimes, as there’s a lot of nuance and layers to cover. The fact is, Jon, especially in season five, does not completely think like a human. He is simultaneously a painfully human character such with deep compassion and guilt and self-loathing, while also being a being of immense knowledge who sees and understands the world in a different light, and in a way no one else can possibly comprehend, which has to be very isolating all things considered.

As with everything in TMA, Jon makes a choice, and his choice is to end the apocalypse, to stay with Martin, and to stay as human as he possibly can. We know from Annabelle that had she have taken Martin, who is presumably acting as one of his main anchors to humanity, Jon potentially would have snapped completely, the final push over the edge as she puts it. It has to be a difficult thing for him, to try and balance his existence when he is so fundamentally changed, and when this world naturally feels right to him, and you could argue that him snapping at the mother here is simply his instinct, being what he is.

He is The Archivist, the meant-to-be Pupil of the Eye, one of the most important beings present, and so it makes sense there’s almost an instinctive detachment from the victims. He is meant to Watch them, and Watching means no physical interaction. By touching him, the mother has broken this barrier, and so, instinctually, he reacts — with anger, notably.

I’d say it’s meant to contrast how we see him acting prior to the touch, where he seems genuinely sympathetic with the mother, and he is trying to help in what little way he can. Because before she touches him, that gap between Watched and Watcher is still firm in place, and so he can handle that.

Bearing in mind, I haven’t re-listened to the rest of season five with this, so I may have missed something.

I also think both interpretations can co-exist too, and that could be just as interesting to explore. Either way, I find that, with Jon, it’s important to consider his status in the Eyepocalypse and his nature vs his choices, although, his nature vs his choices goes for the whole series I think, as choice is such a consistent theme in TMA and in the Avatars.

[rhenysz]

Your Dead Eyes - Chapter 3

Summary: Lifeless eyes were what haunted your all life, manu people say that death was lurking around your eyes, Maybe it's true. Maybe you just see things that other people don't.

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron! reader fem.

A/n: I... Well, hello. So, Merry Christmas? I didn't fix this properly...

*English is NOT my native language, this fanfic was translated with a little help from a A.i. So, let me know if there are any grammatical errors*

Word count: 3k

Warnings: None that I can remember, some humor, tension , Azriel being a dumb mother hen

previous x next

Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand had already left when you came downstairs for breakfast. Nesta grumbled that they hadn't even eaten before spreading their wings to the sky, making everything around them flutter – including the newly planted rose saplings of Elain, to her great displeasure.

Feyre often returned home in hopes that the queens had already responded. The delay was noticeable given how long ago the letter had been sent, and it was a shot in the dark trying to guess what might have happened, though you doubted the letter had gotten lost in transit, and, mind you, you weren't foolish enough to think it was their indecision.

They were making the High Lord wait for pure amusement, and maybe a little bit of sadism. The human queens were in control of the situation, and that made everything even more delicious. A power struggle where, for the first time, the weaker ones were in charge. It must have been painful to even consider discarding this succulent opportunity that had been handed to them on a golden platter—one in a million, truly.

Bringing the steaming cup of tea to your lips, you sipped cautiously to avoid burning yourself; there was no pain worse than burning your tongue – well, maybe stubbing your toe, you mused with a hum. A gust of wind passed through your hair, signaling that someone was passing by in a hurry.

“Don’t run around the house, Elain,” Nesta grumbled from her spot at the table, clearly not a morning person. Your second eldest sister slipped on the floor and turned back to stop by your side, placing one of her delicate hands on your shoulder to alert you of her presence.

Taking a deep breath, Elain spoke breathlessly, “A new batch of letters is arriving today!”

Now, this was interesting. You placed your hand on hers, squeezing her hand on your shoulder, turning your head slightly to show your interest in the topic. Not because of the letters, obviously.

“Why don’t you come with me, sister? We can stop by that little craft shop too,” Elain suggested. She certainly knew how to brighten your day, and even though you were avoiding crowds, especially those zealots who called themselves the enlightened ones – and that made your skin crawl – it was hard to resist the opportunity to get out of the house. God knows this place could be suffocating.

Nesta was irritated with anyone who breathed in her direction, Elain would shudder at the mere mention of meetings and queens, and you missed Merina and her pies. No matter how hard you tried, it was difficult to connect with your sisters as well as with Feyre, who no longer lived a human life filled with nuances like yours.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the chair and blindly grabbed your beautiful cane, intending to head for the door alone, but Elain was quicker and grabbed your wrist, guiding you somewhat hurriedly toward the exit without saying goodbye to a very grumpy Nesta.

The morning wind hit your face as you crossed the threshold, and the birds’ song pierced your ears like a sweet melody. However, as beautiful as it was, your brow furrowed at the hurry in your sister's movements. Surely, the letters couldn’t be that interesting, not to Elain, at least. She could barely stand still when the topic was on the table. Ah, the gossip you'd have today, sweet sister.

“Is there anything else you want from the city besides the letters?” Your tone was dismissive, but even the dullest of men would see the curiosity behind the question.

Elain tripped over something on the ground and almost pulled you down with her, making you question who the blind sister really was here.

She cleared her throat and finally slowed her pace. The hesitation was palpable, and the arm linked to yours grew tense as she nervously began fiddling with the sleeve of her dress.

“I... I was thinking about looking at some prettier engagement rings, maybe gold...” It came out like a croak, and that left you a little more confused. There was no doubt that Elain had good taste and could spot something beautiful from afar, so it was strange that she wanted to see new rings when she loved hers so much.

“I thought you were crazy about that one,” the sounds of people talking grew louder, and your nose wrinkled from the variety of smells; sweets, savory foods, pig dung, and, beneath it all, the fresh scent of pine and whiskey filled your lungs with a warm, inviting sensation.

“Steel” and “Feyre” and “shame” were the only words you managed to catch through the intoxicating fog of the delicious perfume you inhaled. But that was enough for no question to leave your lips.

Turning your focus back to the surroundings as your sister and cane guided you through the streets, bodies occasionally brushed past you, nearly knocking you down; shouts proclaiming devotion to the divine; more frantic cries from merchants trying to sell their goods to eat at the end of the day, and other sounds that were impossible to decipher.

As you walked, Elain stopped abruptly in her tracks. Confused, you turned your head to look at her but got no answer. Without saying a word, your sister started walking again, leaving the noise of the city behind. You quickened your steps to keep up with her, the wind certainly making your hair a tangled mess. At least you wouldn’t have to see it.

Elain slid a bit in the mud, and with a squeak, you stopped by her side. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her lungs struggled to keep up with her breathing. Gods, your sister was trying to kill you just so she wouldn’t have to share the inheritance.

“What in the hell-” you began but didn’t finish. The breeze had risen up your legs, making the hem of your dress flutter and leaving a coolness on your skin, only to disappear faster than it came.

“Azriel?” Azriel? He was the cause of your little sprint? Damn him, what was he doing in such an obvious place?

“Elain,” he greeted your sister, and as he turned to you, he spoke your name in a deep purr, sending a chill down your spine with the tone. You nodded in acknowledgment; your voice no longer belonged to you. “The letter. It’s here.”

Ah, he knew. He already knew the queens' letter had arrived today. How? You didn’t know.

“We were going to see it now,” Elain’s voice was syrupy, soft and sweet, almost like she didn’t know how to speak anymore.

A hum left Azriel’s throat. His trained eyes watched your shy form beside Elain, the corners of his lips tugged upwards but quickly disappeared as he turned his attention back to the eldest Archeron sister.

“Could you fetch it for me, Elain?” Azriel asked gently, and your sister nodded quickly, like a soldier. Not letting go of your hand, she motioned for you to go with her to fetch the letter. “Only you, please.”

Your feet stayed firmly planted, and now the air felt thin. Whatever the Shadowsinger had to say to you was making your nerves bubble.

Elain muttered in discomfort, clearly not wanting to leave you alone with someone she barely knew. Her hand squeezed yours lightly, and you pulled your hand free from her grip, distancing yourself from your sister. With your body facing the man, you encouraged Elain to go. He certainly wouldn’t kill you.

Still, your treacherous mind whispered.

With lips set in a line, Elain quickly made her way to her destination, disappearing into the crowd. The faster she went, the faster she’d be back.

Without your sister nearby, the silence was deafening and uncomfortable, and despite your brief interaction with Azriel, you still found the way his presence surrounded you intimidating.

“Do you have something to say? Or did you just make me stay here for your company?” The words came out sharper than you intended, and perhaps challenging such a powerful fae like him in broad daylight wasn’t the best idea. Shifting your weight, you crossed your arms like a shield. Not that you expected it to stop him.

Your ears perked up when you heard a rough chuckle leave Azriel. His lips pressed together; it wasn’t the response you were expecting.

“I didn’t,” he paused and licked his lips, thinking carefully about his next words. “But I feel like I do now.”

Ah, so much for being mysterious. If this non-human man wanted to make you squirm with anxiety, he was succeeding beautifully.

“And…” your voice carried impatience.

“And I don’t think you should be part of the meeting with the queens.”

Your mind stopped. It felt completely empty, focused only on trying to process Azriel’s words. Letting your arms fall to your sides, you lifted your chin, hoping you were looking at his face as you spoke. “Why? Is there a reason for this?

Simple and shyer than you intended.

Azriel was no longer amused. His face darkened into a scowl as he studied you from your structure to your features – sculpted nose, mouth pulled down, and then, eyes. His eyes were windows to his soul, so sweet that, even if not fully functional, could bring legions to their knees.

And that was the problem.

“The queens aren’t trustworthy, and I don’t want you to be a target. They’re bitter and vile with people…” His words rushed out, his wings tightening behind him, letting the weight of what he had to say burn his tongue. “...weaker ones.”

You bit your cheek until you tasted the faint copper of your blood. Indignation wasn’t the right word to describe what you were feeling, but the disbelief on your flushed face certainly expressed it.

Fragile. The Illyrian who barely knew you for more than a week was insulting you so openly, without a shred of shame. You might not see things like other people, but this made you grow a pair of balls like nothing else, and it wasn’t this male who was going to put you down now.

With clenched fists, you took a step toward him, closing the distance to a breath’s length. The smell of whiskey that had been so enticing returned, but now that you knew who it belonged to, it didn’t seem so intoxicating. Or maybe it was, a little, your mind whispered.

“I don’t think I gave you any right to make assumptions about me, fairy.” You spat the words, especially the scornful nickname you secretly used for him and his brothers.

Azriel growled low, and ah, it wasn’t because of your words.

The rustling of leaves made you step back from the winged male, and quickly, his features softened. Elain stopped next to you, breathless, handing the letter to Azriel, as if it were burning her.

“Here, it arrived last night,” she said before taking your arm and walking away as quickly as possible.

“Thank you,” Azriel acknowledged with a nod. Elain smiled tightly, already guiding you away. His voice came again, but this time as a warning, making your shoulders tense. “Don’t forget what I said.” And then he was gone, swallowed by his shadows as if he had never been there.

Elain furrowed her brow and turned to you, questioning what Azriel had meant.

“Nothing, he didn’t say anything.” Nothing you cared about, at least.

“Hold your breath,” Nesta reprimanded you, her fingers pulling tighter on your corset strings, her delicate fingers and the crushing leather threatening to break your ribs.

“Tighten it any more, and watch me turn purple on this floor, sister.” You gasped out the words with difficulty. Nesta clearly wanted to kill you. You knew she was against you exposing yourself at the meeting, but you never thought she'd deliberately try to kill you.

“Stop whining, it's ready.” Nesta grumbled, and then her presence pulled away from you, her footsteps echoing as she walked to the vanity in front of you. Your head tilted to the side at the sound of objects clinking. She was making a mess, no doubt.

Nesta's heat returned as she stopped in front of you. Her warm hand held your chin firmly but gently, and the bristles of a brush tickled your lips. It was soft, sticky, with a faint scent of roses. Lipstick.

Nesta was dressing you up like a doll. Your chest warmed at the feeling. Having your sister care for and pamper you like this was a delight. It was fleeting, but so appreciated when it happened.

Pulling the brush from your lips, Nesta glanced at you. Long, trembling lashes, cheeks rosy with powder, angelic features. You were beautiful. A slight tug appeared on her lips, satisfied with her work.

“If you keep staring at me, I’m going to start thinking you like me.” Your playful voice earned an eye roll from Nesta, who, with a huff, stepped away from you, already missing the warmth of her presence.

"Don't be fooled," Nesta retorted playfully, you expected it to be a joke as she took your arm in hers and began guiding you out of your room and into the living room. The shrill creak of the door alerted you that you were passing through the main hall, just a few steps away from the comfortable armchairs that Elain had arranged for you. "Sit down, they should be arriving soon."

Groping for the armchair, you slowly lowered yourself until you were seated. Your sister settled beside you, and barely half a second later, a knock echoed on the door. Nesta took a deep breath beside you, and abruptly stood up, walking toward the door. As much for a brief break, a laugh escaped you. Hopefully, she wouldn't hear it.

The sound of what seemed like a crowd of footsteps approached where you were, low, nervous murmurs could be heard, and a melodic voice, different from those you already knew, made your eyebrow raise in curiosity.

"Sister, you look beautiful," Feyre greeted you warmly, her hands on your shoulder for a hug. A little awkwardly, you stood to hug her better. Nestling your face into her neck, you squeezed her tighter. It felt like you hadn't seen her in a decade. The sound of someone clearing their throat made your sister pull away from the hug, to your disappointment. "Sorry. Mor, this is my younger sister."

Mor? Another fae? You turned to where you thought she was. Mor smiled and approached, taking your hand in hers. Her sudden action made you jump slightly.

"It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Feyre has told me so much about you." Her voice was gentle, her shoulders relaxed, and you let yourself return her smile. She seemed like a woman with a strong spirit. Perhaps Nesta could find a friend in her.

"I'm happy to meet another one of my sister’s friends." You greeted her properly with a nod.

"That's enough, Mor. You're suffocating her." A cold shiver ran down your spine when Azriel's rough voice reached you. The memory of your last encounter still vivid in your mind. Your face twisted into a grimace. Mor huffed and pulled away, muttering about how Azriel was a joy-killer. You could agree with that.

Feyre, beside you, looked at the two of you with suspicion. Since you entered, Azriel hadn't taken his eyes off you, following every movement like a hawk. Your reaction to him only seemed to intrigue her more. With a kiss on your forehead, she guided you to sit again.

It seemed everyone was settling into their places, Elain arriving elegantly late and sitting to your right, Nesta a little farther to your left. You couldn’t tell exactly where everyone else was, but someone was behind you. You could feel the warmth of their presence.

"Stubborn artisan." Damn fae.

Azriel teased you with the nickname. If you could give him nicknames, why not? He took a step closer, leaning against your chair, ignoring the sharp look you shot at him. He bent down slightly, just enough for you to hear, his velvety tone making your hairs stand on end.

"You seemed more inclined to listen that night." Your face heated with the memory. With a small grin, Azriel stood up and turned his gaze away, completely satisfied with himself.

Before you could think of a witty retort, a loud bang echoed through the house, making everyone tense. They’ve arrived. The human queens were finally here. It was time to begin the meeting that would put everything at stake.

TAGLIST: @dearestdaffodils @going-through-shit

@valeridarkness @wallacewillow0773638

@harrystylesfan2686 @carnationworld

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@esposadomd @justdreamstars

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*Please, if I tagged you wrong or you want to be removed from the taglist let me know!*

[relicsongmel]

Iris, Miles, and their mutual "secret"

The Ace Attorney fandom is no stranger to discussions of homoerotic subtext in the game's script—pretty much everyone who's spent more than five seconds here will be able to tell you that. Screenshots of lines that imply romantic tension between same-gender characters are all over the place, to the point that many fans are drawn to the series purely by its reputation as "the gay lawyer game." Some scenes are more well-known than others, but one I find brought up fairly regularly is this conversation between Miles and Iris:

This is optional dialogue that can be triggered by presenting incorrect evidence on Iris' Psyche-Lock during the Investigation portion of Bridge to the Turnabout. The argument here is that the "secret" Iris is referring to is the same as her own: that being, a romantic interest in Phoenix Wright. Which is definitely hilarious when you consider that Iris has known Miles for less than a day and she's already reading him for filth (granted, she could have been clued in by the similarly infamous "indispensable friend" line, and she's also exceptionally good at reading people despite Miles thinking otherwise). As a Narumitsu shipper myself I am not immune to enjoying that interpretation; however, I feel like there's a lot of nuance in this scene that isn't often addressed by the fandom at large. Which is unfortunate because watering it down to just Iris calling out Miles for being the gayass he is (to be fair. she's not wrong) does a MASSIVE disservice to both of their characters, and I'll explain why.

My bone to pick with the usual analysis of this scene is mostly centered around the larger conversation to be had regarding the treatment of female characters in fandom spaces. All too often they tend to play second fiddle to the male characters, and a similar principle holds true for ships with their canonical male love interests: mostly ignored in favor of the the more popular M/M ship(s). At best these women are sidelined, at worse they are flattened into wingmen for the boys (as is frequently the case with many AA girls and Narumitsu, Iris included), and at the absolute worst they are demonized for their perceived "competition" with whatever gay ship is most popular and therefore the Only Valid One for the male characters involved (as exemplified by some very "passionate" fans that I generally try to avoid interacting with). Whenever this scene gets brought up, the focus is almost always exclusively on Miles and what the interaction says about his relationship with Phoenix; Iris is only relevant insofar as she's the one initiating Miles' Homosexual Moment™—you could replace her with almost any other character and there'd be a similar level of neglect for their role in the interaction. Only very rarely will you see attention given to what Iris' question about Miles' secret means when she is the one asking it, and what it can tell us about her relationship with Miles/what she thinks of him, and vice versa (absolutely wild how even Miles himself is often flanderized despite being the fandom's golden child). It's all too characteristic of the systemic misogyny that has plagued fandom since its inception, which is deeply frustrating to me as someone who adores Iris as much as I do (if that wasn't obvious by now). So that said, let's dive deeper into what I think the missing link is here: namely, the Iris-Miles dynamic as it pertains to their relation to Phoenix.

Iris and Miles is one of my favorite relationships to explore in the whole series—but as I've described above, unfortunately a lot of people get it wrong in my opinion. Discussion about the two is frequently centered around Narumitsu Love Drama—which is a conversation worth having, don't get me wrong—but the elements at play there aren't always represented the way I envision them, which again, is frustrating. Take the idea of potential jealousy, for instance: it's pretty standard love triangle fare that can be (and often is) quickly turned into demonization when it's used in a shipping context, character assassination be damned (re: Narumitsu fanfic authors that project their personal dislike of Feenris onto Miles via his jealousy of Iris and/or how they tend to portray Iris unfavorably). However, it's not inherently a bad thing to explore: personally, I do believe that there is mutual jealousy between the two of them. Miles might not have the full context of Iris' history when this conversation takes place, but he's emotionally intelligent enough to pick up on what Iris means to Phoenix, and vice versa. And him being a jealous hoe about it isn't out of the question when you consider that he's a bit of a loner by nature and doesn't have many close friends or outlets for socialization outside of his job. The crucial element that's sometimes missed, though, is that Miles not only lacks the self-awareness to realize he's a jealous hoe...he's also a self-sabotaging jealous hoe.

And the same can be said for Iris, who is similarly introverted and doesn't often leave her home at Hazakura Temple.

The whole reason Miles is peering into Iris' heart in the first place can be found in this exchange, after he breaks her Psyche-Lock:

Miles uses the Magatama in order to gain the answers he needs to bring the truth to light and get Iris acquitted, and he does so for the express purpose of reuniting her with Phoenix so they can find closure—in fact, he reiterates this to her multiple times. He obviously recognizes how Phoenix is suffering from what happened between them (I'd argue he sympathizes with Iris' plight as well) and has resolved to do what he can to help him heal, but there's no reason for him to be so insistent that she rectify things with Phoenix when it does nothing but harm his own chances with him. Unless, of course...that's the whole point.

To convince Iris to reveal her secret so he doesn't have to face his own, because he thinks himself undeserving.

And Iris, noticing this because she empathizes with that feeling of unworthiness, calls him out on it in an almost uncharacteristically forward manner when she asks him what he's hiding.

Takes one to know one, indeed.

Iris highly respects Miles for taking on her defense despite the risk to his job as a prosecutor. She's willing to trust him after hearing he's a friend of Phoenix, hearing him out and letting him reason with her. She still keeps her cards close to her chest in some regards, but she's more honest with him than she's been with anyone else in her life apart from her sister. She sees his commitment to the truth and how it starkly contrasts with how she's lived her life to this point, and thinks that this is the type of partner Phoenix deserves—not someone like her, who only knows how to survive using lies and deception. She sees so much strength in him but still recognizes the insecurity lurking beneath his tenacity, which is why when he falters in his logic, she takes a leap of faith and gives him one last chance to examine his reasons for pushing the burden of his unspoken affections onto her, as if to say: "Look in the mirror. Is this really for me? Or is it for you? Do you really seek the truth for its own sake, or do you merely hope to find one truth so you might run from another?"

Her question to Miles is a gamble—a coin flip of self-sacrifice. If she loses and he presses on, she has to face the secret within her heart she's been suppressing for five years. But if she wins and he gives in to the truth in his, she has to live the rest of her life watching it unfold and knowing she threw away her chance to finally stop living in fear of her own love.

Either way, there's no escaping heartache for her anymore.

Miles and Iris both want what's best for Phoenix and prioritize their vision of his feelings over their own. However, they are also both deeply emotionally repressed people who find difficulty in being direct with their feelings, and are predisposed to self-sabotage due to childhood trauma. These tendencies may manifest in different ways for both of them, but the fact remains that such people would likely not compete for a person's affection in the traditional sense, which is exactly what we see with how Iris and Miles deflect their feelings for Phoenix. These selfless, lovestruck idiots toss that man around like a game of hot-potato because their mutual self-hatred for the ways they've harmed him has rendered them terrified of the reality of what he means to them, and desperate to find a way out of admitting to it. It's the most compelling explanation I can think of for why the usually unassuming Iris makes such a bold judgment about what Miles might be keeping locked away, and why Miles goes to such lengths to make sure she talks to Phoenix and tells him the truth—his agreement to defend her was conditional on that exact promise. They go through this whole song-and-dance of playing wingman to ignore their own feelings while still trying to bring Phoenix the happiness they think he deserves—and then they wonder why seeing Phoenix give the other one attention burns them up inside.

Because they’re dumb. And I love them.

TL;DR the Iris Psyche-Lock scene in BttT is so much more than just "haha Miles gay" and I wish people talked about it more. Also Iris and Miles are way more similar than they appear at first glance and if I think about it for too long it makes me physically ill thank you for coming to my TED talk

[girlfantasy777]

The Maddie stuff makes me soo mad.... they had right there a truly interesting cop character. Her introduction scene is her saying to vi that she's "one of the good enforcers" (even tho people keep misinterpreting it when it's clearly not about zaunites). She could have been a really interesting exploration of all those cops and soldiers who say they want to "change the system from the inside" and how they're deeply flawed in that logic. But instead she's just made into a villain so the main characters can get together and everybody can clap. Like this is just sad I really thought this show would deliver more nuance after season 1 set things up.

Also the fandom reaction is really gross. Everybody is calling her a whore and bitch and it's 1000% just misogyny at this point and it grosses me out.

Riot had a chance to make her a compelling character but instead they took the cliche route of making her the temporary love interest who is (conveniently) revealed to be evil at the last minute and betrayed Cait so the main ship can continue as endgame without any issue.

-also I never understood why she's the only one getting all the hate for sleeping with Cait? they're acting like Cait isn't a grown woman with free will who CHOOSE to have sex with Maddie. It takes two to tango but what the hell, sure. let's put all the hate to Maddie❤️

[bwat5-blog]

Caitlyn & Violet: A Deeper Look

**Spoilers For All Of Arcane**

Recently I reached out to the community asking for some requests on angles/ideas/topics and so on that anyone would be interested in my analysis on. A few of you amazing folks responded for which I am extremely grateful. @phoenixlionme asked me to delve into a few points I have never discussed at all, regarding Caitlyn Kiramman, and the way she connects to Vi's heritage and past.

Caitlyn as a bridge between cities

Caitlyn's similarities to Vi's loved ones

Caitlyn compared to the leaders of Zaun (for Clarity @phoenixlionme phrased it as people Sevika has followed, this is just an easier way for me to approach it in my head)

So! to that end, I will be digging into these ideas and expanding my own insight into this wonderful character. As I am so fond of saying, good stories matter. And the continued exploration and discussion of this story and it's characters will help it live on. Thank you.

Caitlyn As The Bridge Between Cities:

When the story begins, Caitlyn and Vi could not be from more different worlds. Vi's life is poisoned with violence and loss, even witnessing the deaths of her birth parents at the hands of Enforcers. In that opening scene, they are monstrous. Emerging from smoke and shadow, dealing death and pain all hidden behind cold unfeeling masks. Her childhood in Zaun has made her a hardened survivor even at such a young age.

But in the sunny streets of Piltover, where Caitlyn has been raised, the Enforcers are smiling, happy symbols of peace and safety. Caitlyn is the daughter and heir to one of the great houses of Piltover. Her name means innovation, wealth and respect. She receives shooting lessons from the sheriff of Piltover herself. She joins the enforcers when she comes of age because the reality she has known has only ever taught her to view them as a force for good.

But of course as the story commences we see these two individuals from totally different worlds come together. Their realities joined in ways both good and bad. So let's dig into this further, starting with the simple stuff.

Vi-

Well to state the obvious, Caitlyn is love with the birth daughter of one of the architects of Zaun, and the eldest adopted daughter of another. Although Vi's place in Zaun likely feels unsteady to her after all that occurs in Season 2, it seems logical to suggest that during the reconstruction efforts after the war and during the restitution efforts towards her people she and Caitlyn's relationship will help bridge the gap in general.

Sevika-

At the end of season two, Caitlyn has given the seat of house Kiramman to none other than Sevika of Zaun. People have done just about everything in their power to pretend this doesn't matter. It does. It just does. I know there were people hoping to see the Piltover elite lined up and executed by firing squad, while Jinx reigned supreme over the flames and was served tea by a chained and forcibly blinded Caitlyn, all while Vi excoriated herself with a flail and sang Jinx's praises loudly for all to hear. But for those of us who were never fitted for our tinfoil hats, this is a massive step.

The council hold the highest positions of power in the twin cities. And now because of Caitlyn, one of them belongs to the undercity. She has literally created a link between the two surrendering her own families power and giving it to the undercity who have never had that voice before. It isn't all encompassing change because that isn't real. It's a first powerful step made by someone with all the power, to start bridging the divide.

The Commander -

Alright. Now we start getting into the more complex part of her relationship with Zaun. Caitlyn's arc is immensely complex and controversial and there is a lot of depth and nuance to this part of her story. I have written about this in HEAVY.. HEAVY DETAIL. So if you would like to see that I would love for you to check it out. But for our purposes here I am going to keep to the basics. Because to discuss how I feel the aftermath of this will lead to her having more of a connection with the Undercity, we at least need to go over what happened. To begin with, lets do a very quick barebones rundown:

Born in Piltover

Entered Zaun with Vi

Reentered Zaun leading strike team. Hunting chem-barons, Jinx, and Shimmer.

Becomes The Commander

Occupation Of Zaun

The War

The Strike Team:

Now, on a logical level only, the strike team did not do anything wrong. The Chem-Barons were dangerous drug lords. Shimmer is an absolute threat to all of the Undercity. And while there is obviously so much more to be said about Jinx, for their purposes they are hunting a dangerous terrorist who just assassinated three of their leaders. Yes. For logic based purposes only this does also includes the Grey. I have beat this horse to death, kicked it while it's down, revived it, and shot it in the head. I am not doing it again here. So I will just say that on a purely logical level, using a non-lethal crowd dispersal weapon on specific targets while hunting dangerous crime lords and a terrorist who likes things that go boom.... Not the worst idea.

The real issue with the strike team's actions, can be discussed in two points:

Caitlyn's motivation-

"Can I do the right thing for the wrong reason? Is it bad that I'm making friends with my demons, and Living by a couple deadly sins Just to make sure I finish what you began And I ain't afraid to lose a life or ten If it means that I get to win in the end (woo) So I'ma do this on my own, step into the danger zone Pull the pin and watch it blow

I would rather die alone" (Hellfire Arcane)

The problem is that Caitlyn did not lead her team into the undercity to liberate it's people. She did so for revenge. Each action pushing her further and further into her rage and pain. So even though her actions were "pure" her intention was driven by hate.

2. History with Piltovan Oppression-

As stated, the goals of the strike team were pure. And on a purely logic based level, the fan reaction to the grey has been hyperbolic to say the least. The problem is in the history. Uniformed Enforcers using a weapon that no matter how overblown the reaction does make people choke and cough and possibly pass out. It's all just too reminiscent of what the Undercity has been through before.

The Occupation:

So despite this being a massive part of this story, for our purposes here there is not a terrible amount to say. As very rough overview:

Caitlyn has become commander over the two cities during a period of Martial Law.

Ambessa Medarda rules from the shadows using Caitlyn as her scape goat.

All of Zaun has been placed under full occupation until Jinx is found. Dissenters are jailed, there are checkpoints, and it seems as though the Noxian "peace keeping forces" are being as brutal as possible. Therefore driving dissent and anger to even higher levels allowing Ambessa more time to achieve her goals.

Occupation ends when Caitlyn realizes how she had lost her way, turns on Ambessa, and the occupation ends in the days leading up to the final battle.

The issue of course is that Ambessa's part in this aside, Caitlyn was the face of it. And as I have said from the beginning, I am NOT attempting to absolve Caitlyn of her responsibility in what happened. Some portion of our fandom have essentially chosen to pretend Ambessa just strolled in, and offered Caitlyn the job of despot while they held hands and skipped through the torture camps together. You and I know better. But the people of Zaun lived it. And they don't have the benefit of having seen everything we saw and understanding all of Caitlyn's story. So at the end of the day Caitlyn is the face of the oppressive regime that made their lives hell for a few months.

How They Move Forward:

Okay. So tying it all together how could "Commander Caitlyn Kiramman" possibly become a bridge between cities with everything that has happened? Because they are all moving forward. I am not pretending that it is anywhere close to over. In fact as I said earlier when discussing Sevika it is just a step. But Zaunite and Piltovan alike saw Caitlyn almost give her life to end Ambessa. And the two cities fought side by side against the threat to all life that Viktor posed. So moving forward:

Caitlyn is married to a famous Zaunite.

She has given Zaun their first real step toward equality.

Her guilt is going to drive her to keep working to make things better for the Undercity. It doesn't take deep character analysis to see that.

She is a Kiramman. Despite her perversion of her families work with the ventilation during her darkest moments, she has all of that knowledge now. I predict she will keep working alongside Vi to find ways to make things right.

I know people have felt quite strongly that the show didn't do enough to resolve Piltover VS Zaun. But I think people need to remember that as insane and epic as it was, this show was essentially a prequel to our time in this world. There is so much more to come. Caitlyn is a young woman who has made mistakes, but I predict will go on to do great things for Piltover and Zaun both. After all, if the right hand woman of the man who unleashed shimmer on their streets can become their voice in government, and the feared and insane terrorist daughter of Silco can become their hero, maybe their former oppressor can become one of their greatest allies.

Caitlyn's Similarities To Vi's Loved Ones:

This is an interesting one! I honestly had never even considered this sort of thing but when I started digging there are many qualities of those Vi loves that are all collected with Caitlyn Kiramman. I'm sure you could do a massive list for this sort of thing so this is just some ones that stuck out to me.

Jinx:

The parallels between these two characters have become quite well known at this point and for good reason. Their intertwining stories are a massive part of this show and impact both of their characters greatly. But in terms of her connection to Vi, I have one I really want to focus on.

Putting Vi First: Both Jinx and Caitlyn go through a tremendous amount of suffering over the course of this story. Their stories are so in-depth, and complex and layered. And over the course of their stories, they both hurt Vi terribly (obviously there is more to it, there is a lot of nuance to these situations and I'm not dumping on Caitlyn or Jinx. Just staying on topic). But for two characters who are at one point almost sworn enemies, when it comes to addressing the pain of one they love, they are remarkably similar.

Caitlyn- So much happens between Caitlyn and Vi. But when it comes down to it, with Vi angry over Jinx's imprisonment and Caitlyn and Vi still far from totally reconciled, how does Cait makes things right? She gives Vi the choice. She clears the way for her to free Jinx if she chooses. Even knowing that that Vi could take Jinx and vanish forever if she chose, and Caitlyn would never hold Vi in her arms again. She puts Vi first. Even though it could be the end of her.

Jinx- Good lord talk about complicated. The relationship between the sisters is beautiful and heartbreaking in equal measure. There is so much on both sides, but when the moment I want to discuss comes, Vi has come to free Jinx from prison. Jinx knows that Vi has lived a life, consumed by guilt over everything that has occurred. Vi has never allowed herself to choose her own happiness for a variety of reasons. So what does Jinx do? She forces Vi to let her go. She locks her in the cell and gives Vi the permission Vi would never have been able to give herself. She tells her she deserves to be happy, to be with Caitlyn. Because in that moment of terrible sorrow even with all that Jinx is suffering, her eyes are finally opened to how much she loves Vi, and how much Vi loves her.

2. Vander:

Much like Vi and Caitlyn, at first glance it seems almost laughable to try and find common ground between "The Hound Of The Underground", and "The Leader Of House Kiramman". But if we really dig into it, the similarities emerge. In fact far more than I ever would have guessed.

A: Both do something they regret in a moment of deep loss and pain to someone they love.

Vander- We really are never given all the specifics, but whatever Silco became, Vander completely owned his regret and remorse over trying to take Silco's life.

Caitlyn- In that horrible moment after ventilation chamber battle, Caitlyn clubs the woman she loves in the stomach with her rifle stock and abandons her crying in the dark. I could write pages on the evidence of her remorse (and have written quite a bit) but you get the idea.

B: Both can see the truth of Vi's worth.

Vander- "You have a good heart. Don't ever lose it. No matter how the world tries to break you"

Caitlyn- "Despite it all I can tell.. you have a good heart"

This is especially impactful given Vi's struggle to see the worth and value in this part of herself as her story continues.

C: "When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish.. whatever happens. It's on you".

Vander- At the moment he is in Silco's clutches, facing death. Vander does not beg for his life. He simply asks Silco to spare the lanes. Spare the Undercity. His self sacrifice continues all through the heartbreaking series of events that follow. Attacking the shimmer mutant, taking shimmer himself to save Vi, and blocking Vi's body with own during the fall.

Caitlyn- Now of course, it would be completely out of character for Caitlyn. But thinking about in strictly what is possibly, Caitlyn had just about any other option if she did not want to stay and fight Ambessa. Let alone on the front line. She knows she played a part it everything going so wrong, and rather than using her wealth and power to escape the fighting, she plants her feet and faces down the devil who almost took her soul forever. Never-mind the fact that she rips that knife out of her own body to help finish Ambessa, knowing full well that may well be the end of her.

*Caitlyn laying down her hate for Jinx in favor of her love for Vi works here as well*

Caitlyn's Reflection Of The Leaders Of Zaun:

Each of the three here have in some way shape or form been leaders to the people of the Undercity. And for a character who became such a figure of oppression to the people of Zaun, Caitlyn Kiramman shares a lot with all three of these figures. We have discussed Vander and Jinx. But I wanted to talk about Silco for a moment:

Finding "Strength" out of pain:

Silco- In the wake of Vander's betrayal, he reinvents himself. Believing only in the strength needed to destroy those he views as his enemy. Even if it means betraying every ideal he ever had.

Caitlyn- In the wake of her mothers loss and her separation from Vi, she becomes someone the old her would have despised under Ambessa's tutelage. Becoming a better fighter, gaining "control" over two cities, and learning to be ruthless. But in fact surrendering everything about her that made her who she is.

The Difference however, is Caitlyn sees the truth. Because of a variety of factors she sees how far she is fallen and that she has betrayed her belief and her ideals. She sheds her own blood alongside those willing to fight for her to protect all people regardless of the city of their birth. She finds the true strength that Silco couldn't.

Conclusion:

Sorry for the GIF-a-palooza but every time I think about her character her story gets me more and more. She truly goes through so much, learns, changes, falls down and picks herself back up. Thank you again to @phoenixlionme for this opportunity to delve deeper into her character and get me thinking in ways I hadn't considered! I hope some of this may lend itself to peoples understanding of this incredible character and if not hopefully at least the enjoyment of the show. Thank you to anyone taking time out of your day in this mad world to read the writing of a grouchy nerd like me. You will probably never know how much I appreciate it.

Keep standing up for stories that matter. See ya next time.

[alltimefail]

Okay gang, I noticed something super intriguing in my recent weekend rewatch of Dead Boy Detectives!

In Episode 4 when the night nurse goes into Charles' mind there's a consistent detail in his memories that I haven't seen anyone point out: not all of Charles' five schoolmates throw stones at him when he's in the lake.

Two boys are positioned slightly off to the left side of the screen, watching and making no move to stop the others, but they do not directly harm Charles at any point.

I know this doesn't seem particularly interesting in and of itself, but it quickly becomes more interesting when the Night Nurse asks Charles "What could possibly have made [his] friends turn on [him] like this," and we flash forward to the next memory, a visual response to her question. In this memory, we see Charles standing up to all of his so-called "friends" who are senselessly beating up on a boy from Pakistan and...

Wait - actually, no - not all of his friends...

Yet again, two boys have been intentionally set apart from the group and yes, it is the same two boys who stood off to the side and watched Charles be harmed (ultimately killed) in the previous scene. The juxtaposition of these scenes begins to feel even more intentional when the perspective flips and we see the scene how Charles was seeing it, with the passive boys on the left and the boys engaging in violence on the right.

This scene is much brighter so we get a really good look at their faces here, but both of them go through a myriad of facial expressions/reactions in quick succession that are challenging to discern with 100% certainty. But with the blocking for the group being the same in both shots and the roles the boys play being the same in both shots, I feel like this had to be an intentional choice made to convey something implicitly to the audience.

That leaves me to wonder - did these boys know, deep down, that what was happening was wrong? Did they want to resist, walk away, or try to stop the violence like Charles did earlier but felt powerless to do so? It would be remiss of me not to acknowledge how one of the two "passive" boys was black: did that otherness, the same otherness that Charles felt and that boy from Pakistan surely felt, keep him from speaking up out of fear for his own safety (a valid fear, considering what we know).

Whatever the purpose, it's a really sad detail to me. Heartbreaking, actually. Edwin is 100% right when he says that the living are messy, and Crystal is right when she says that she and the boys lost their lives to boys who went too far (hers temporarily in the form of her memories, the boys completely in the form of their literal lives) because that's just it, isn't it? This show is full of moral and ethical conversations surrounding the limitations of labels like "good" and "bad" people; about capability and willingness to change; and about how our actions, whether rooted in good or bad intentions, can lead to unintended or undesired outcomes. Perhaps none of Charles' "friends" believed they would kill Charles that night; perhaps they just wanted to "rough him up" or "teach him a lesson." Perhaps none of Edwin's bullies could have anticipated that the ritual sacrifice "prank" would do anything more than scare a boy they perceived as different, effeminate ("Mary Ann"), and they certainly couldn't have known it would lead to years of torture and suffering in hell for not just Edwin, but for themselves as well. But it doesn't matter, and it doesn't excuse what they did. The boys who stood to the side and watched Charles die, and who watched their fellow "mates" beat on another boy prior to that, may not have thrown a single punch, but it didn't matter - the damage was done. They still were complicit in that violence, and therefore played just as much a role in Charles' death as the boys who were throwing stones and punches. To be alive is to deal with mess, complications, baggage...to insinuate otherwise is to diminish the nuance and intention put into every choice not only in this show, but in some ways, the world at large as well. It may be a small moment, but it struck me as something that said so much without having to explicitly say anything at all. Art is a good mirror on society in this way; it makes us face the reflections of messy, complex characters and situations that we could just as likely find ourselves a part of (maybe as the "good" guy, the vicim; maybe as the "bad" guy, the bully; or maybe as the guys who just... did nothing at all. The ones who watched, who were complicit in the suffering of others for what could be a multitude of selfish or self-preserving reasons).

All that being said, the TLDR here is: considering it's the same two boys who behave the same way in both instances it feels like an intentional detail. I wonder if there's potential for one (or both) of these boys to reappear in Charles' (after)life in the future? They are likely both still alive today, in their 50s, just as Charles would be had he not been murdered. Perhaps one of these boys could die and come to the agency with regrets or unfinished business (directly involving Charles or regarding something unrelated). Maybe Charles will run into them, alive, through a different case or just on the streets of London and be overwhelmed with a sense of "That should be me, too. I should have gotten to live." I imagine he would recognize them, even in older bodies, and it would understandably affect him to have to face anyone who played a role in his death, whether they threw stones or just watched.

Orrrrrrer it could be a totally pointless detail! 😂 I'm always open-minded to the fact that after 30+ rewatches I could be overanalyzing at this point. Either way, it confounds me nonetheless and I so desperately hope we will get to explore Charles' trauma more in season 2 (🤞)... so I thought I would share my thoughts! 🖤

(Last note: please excuse the bad photo quality!! I searched meticulously for the exact screencaps I needed but couldn't find anything, so I just took pictures of my tv screen with my phone lol.)

[kayhi808]

Hey girly!

Another idea what if Abby’s parents take her to see wicked and she just sings popular and defying gravity ALL the time. I also feel like Bucky isn’t into musicals but he would like wicked because he can relate to Elphaba so he and Abby see it a couple times after.

** spoilers**

Popular!

You're gonna be pop-u-lar!

I'll teach you the proper ploys

When you talk to boys

Little ways to flirt and flounce

Ooh!

You and Abby have been singing this song for days. It's been stuck in her head. She hasn't seen "The Wizard of Oz," but your read her the story. She was always too young and with her imagination, the Wicked Witch and the Wizard scenes would give her nightmares. She'll be waking you up telling you she saw the witch in her eyeballs.

But once Abby saw the commercials, the billboards, the ads in the Metro, on the sides of buses and taxis she's been begging and pleading daily to go. Arianna Grande as Glinda became Abby's obsession. That's all she talked about. She'd only wear her pink clothes. You were worried that some of the scenes would be too scary for your toddler. You told her you'd think about it.

Then Abby switched her attack to Bucky. "Papa, you knows what?"

Putting down his book & getting comfortable, "What, Abby?"

"Cans you pweeeease comes with me and Mama to sees Wicked?"

Bucky had no interest in going to watch that movie. Musical? Witches? They aren't on the top of his list of things to watch. Bucky scrunches his nose & groans, "Why can't just you and your Mama go?"

"Oh pwease! You had to come." Abby climbs on the couch to stand beside him & squish his face between her palms, "Cos, what if I gets scared? Only my Papa can save me." She gives Bucky big doe-eyes. "You'd keep me safe."

Bucky in a drawn out sigh, "Fiiinnne." Sucker!

"Yay!! I go tells Mama!" She bounces down on her butt & then off the couch. "Mama! Where's you??" She turns back to Bucky, "tank you, Papa," and continues her search for you.

******

The following weekend, you took in a matinee of Wicked. Abby was decked out in her finest pinkery, sitting between you and Bucky at the theater. She was so excited. She's been listening to the soundtrack for her after dinner dance parties all week. Your little girl was ready to get this party started! Currently, she's doing a happy wiggle because Bucky gave her popcorn to eat. Bucky looks over at you and gives you a wink.

Abby knows she's not supposed to talk during the movie, but that doesn't stop her from keeping 2 inches away from your ear, yakking non-stop. Being courteous to theater patrons doesn't apply to her Mama.

"I wants to ride in a bubble & have her dress."

"Why Gwinda don't like her??"

"Ooh her so smart in magic!"

"Look Mama, the cuuuute mans!"

"I want to be like Elphie & do's magic, too."

"That twain is not like the Metro."

The first part of the movie she was stuck to you like glue, but as soon as she saw the Wizard's big head, she hopped over into Bucky's lap & stayed safe with him. She did not like what happened to the monkeys either.

Abby was too young to catch all the nuances of the film, but she understood that the 2 friends weren't going to be together and she felt that & started to cry. Then at the end of Defying Gravity, you were in your chair trying to get your crying under control and Abigail was sobbing into Bucky's neck. He's rubbing her back trying to console her.

The lights come up & you reach for your baby. Abby leans over to grab you. "It's ok baby. It's just a movie."

Bucky moves closer and pats your head, "It's okay, Doll. It's just a movie." You give him a sad frown & he kisses your forehead.

"Abigail?" You pull away, trying to wipe her tears.

"She didn't go with Elphie, Mama. She stayed with the bad teacher and fake wizard! How could she?!"

"I know, baby. Everything was happening so fast for her."

"She the bad witch. Not Elphie. Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Elphie sing and I hear her with my ears & she sound so...the BEST! So pwetty. And then she sing loud and I hear her in my heart too..." Abby starts to cry again, "And it makes it like...too much, Mama." Abby places her palm against her heart and curls into you.

Bucky chuckles & kisses her head, "Lots of feelings?" He had to admit he enjoyed the movie so much more than he thought he would. "Too much feeling, huh?"

"Ya, too much."

"Well, you saw it. You don't have to see it again."

Abby's head whips up, "Oh, no! I wants to see it again!"

Confused, Bucky tries to reason with her, "Look how it made you cry."

Abby's chubby hands wipes away her tears, "Papa, it was the BESTEST!"

Girl Logic.

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unax @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood @jvanilly

[mareastrorum]

This might get a little pedantic, but I want to highlight something about Laudna not believing that she's lying.

I'm an attorney that specializes in litigating fraud. In simple terms, I sue people who lie. There's a lot of complexity in there that I'm not going to get into. However, there's multiple elements of fraud that I have to prove. Two of those elements are falsity and scienter.

Falsity is whether or not something is factually incorrect. It has nothing to do with belief (subjective understanding). It is whether something is objectively true. Something can be false by contradiction (stating something incorrectly), implication (giving a false impression using ambiguous expressions), or omission (having an obligation to admit truth and choosing to avoid making a statement).

Scienter is whether or not the lie was made knowingly. That aspect has to do with belief, intention, and awareness. There's different levels of knowledge. Actual knowledge is full awareness of the falsity. 0 nuance. Deliberate ignorance is recognizing that something might be false, having an obligation to verify, and choosing not to. Reckless disregard is acting without any concern for whether something might be false. Some types of fraud require that I prove the defendant intended to deceive, and other times, I only need to show reckless disregard for the truth. It depends.

Now, that is just a very simplistic rundown of a specific legal framework. It's not meant to be applied outside of the law. Here, it's merely a tool that helps tease issues into pieces that are more easily examined.

Marisha said in the Cooldown for episode 95 that Laudna really believed she had not lied. So, if we applied this framework above, that means the scienter might not be there. I could speculate the extent to which Laudna is willingly falling for Delilah's bullshit, but at the very least, it's not what we would call actual knowledge. There's room for debate that maybe she's sticking her head in the sand or running headlong without any forethought or is too psychologically compromised to recognize the truth. There's some interesting conversations to be had.

That doesn't mean Laudna told the truth. Laudna very intentionally left out everything about Delilah in that discussion about the sword -- she omitted significant, relevant information that she knew the others would want to know. She was wrong that it was a cursed sword. She was wrong that it was going to corrupt Orym. At the very least, Laudna has not been truthful with the Hells.

Can we at least get to the point of accepting that Laudna was actually wrong? Please? That would be cool.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hey,

may I request a Hannibal one-shot, where he meets a teenaged reader at a classical music concert or the opera?He is really fascinated by how interested she is in it and how much knowledge she has?

Hannibal X Teenage!Reader: Musical Connection

Warnings: none

Word count: 796

You settle into your seat in the grand opera house, the rich scent of polished wood mingling with the soft hum of excited conversation. The air is thick with anticipation, the velvet curtains drawn in front of the stage. You’ve been to many concerts and operas in your life, but there’s something uniquely magical about this evening—the elegance, the atmosphere, the music that promises to sweep you away.

As you scan the program, preparing yourself for what’s to come, you feel a presence beside you, a slight shift in the air. You look up, and there he is: Dr. Hannibal Lecter. It’s difficult not to notice him—his impeccable posture, the sharpness of his features, the aura of controlled confidence that surrounds him like a perfectly tailored suit. You’ve seen him before, of course. He was quite well known in the Opera community. A man whose love for the art was left clear to whoever observed him during any performance. 

For a brief moment, he glances at you, then returns his gaze to the stage, as if his attention was momentarily captured by your own. The thought crosses your mind that he’s perhaps one of those people who thrive in the background, quietly observing everything around him.

His voice, smooth and velvety, breaks the silence between you.

“Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, isn’t it?” he asks, his tone more of a statement than a question. He doesn’t need your confirmation, he’s merely trying to make conversation.

"Not many young people your age attend these performances." 

His gaze is focused on you as he speaks, his eyes glow as if he’d just found something extraordinary. 

"Tell me, what is it about this music that draws you in?"

There’s a slight challenge in his voice, an invitation to share your passion with someone who, you sense, might truly understand. You hesitate only for a moment, then begin speaking, your voice steady and confident, as you always are when discussing music. You may be younger than the usual people who go to these sorts of events but that doesn't mean you don;t have the knowledge to understand the profoundness of the music.

“It’s the precision, the way each note is so deliberate and yet so expressive. Beethoven had to overcome so much adversity, and when I listen to his violin concerto, I hear his struggle, his triumph… it's like he poured everything into it.”

Dr. Lecter watches you intently, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of fascination and admiration. You can tell that he’s absorbing every word, every nuance of your explanation. There’s no mockery in his gaze, no condescension—only genuine curiosity, as though he’s meeting someone who shares his refined appreciation for the art.

“You have an impressive understanding of music. It’s rare to find someone who truly listens—not just to the melody, but to the meaning behind it. Most people simply hear sound, but you… you feel it.”

You feel your heartbeat a little faster, caught off guard by the compliment. Hannibal Lecter—who, you’re certain, could analyze any human with a level of depth few could match—is paying you such attention. And it's not just because you're sitting next to him in an opera house. It's because you’ve managed to stir something within him.

His eyes flicker momentarily to the stage, where the orchestra begins tuning their instruments, preparing for the performance. 

“Do you ever think, when listening to a piece like this, that music can be… a form of communication? A language, perhaps?”

You nod thoughtfully. 

“I’ve always thought of music as a language of the soul. Words can’t always capture what you’re feeling, but music can convey emotions too complex for speech.”

Lecter’s smile is subtle, but there’s a certain warmth behind it—a rare softness in the cold precision of his usual demeanor.

 "You have an eloquence in your understanding. I think that is what makes this concert special for you... You’re not merely hearing the music, you are living it."

For a moment, you feel as if time itself has stopped. The world around you fades into the background, leaving just the two of you, locked in a conversation about music and meaning—two souls who recognize the beauty in things that others may never notice.

As the lights dim and the orchestra begins to play, you settle back into your seat, but your thoughts are still with him. Dr. Lecter’s presence, his quiet fascination with you, lingers in the air, adding a layer of complexity to your evening that you didn’t expect.

For the rest of the concert, his presence beside you remains like a quiet undercurrent, an almost imperceptible pull between the two of you—two people who, for a brief moment, understand each other in a way that words cannot fully explain.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

def just an idea so no pressure- but I would love a selective mute reader who is besties with Ominous. I’m a Sebastian girly- but she call fall for whoever in universe bc I’m not great with ideas.

Love you 💕💕

Teal or Turquoise? | Ominis Gaunt x Reader

ANON - I love you too! Thank you for the beautiful prompt. I admit, I am not well-educated on the nuances and intricacies of selective mutism but I did some reading and I hope that this story thoughtfully captures your vision.

Words: ~3,400

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Big Time Fluff, LIKE SERIOUSLY THIS IS SO FLUFFY

The Astronomy Tower had always been your refuge at Hogwarts. It was quiet, far enough from the bustling common rooms and rowdy hallways to feel like a world of your own. The cold stone walls seemed to hold their breath, waiting for nothing, expecting nothing. It was perfect.

Ominis often joked that you had stolen his hiding spot. “This is where I come to escape the chaos,” he’d say, leaning on the tower’s railing with a smirk that softened his usually sharp features. You’d always reply with a small smile or a gentle nudge to his arm, the kind of unspoken exchange that needed no elaboration between the two of you.

Today was no different. The two of you sat cross-legged on the floor, snow falling softly in the air around you. A book lay open in your lap, though you hadn’t turned the page in quite some time. Ominis sat beside you, one hand gripping his wand, the other curled around a warm thermos of hot chocolate he’d charmed to stay warm. He wasn’t speaking, and neither were you.

That was one of the things you loved most about your friendship—there was no need to fill the silence.

“Still lost in that book of yours?” he asked after a while, his lips quirking in the faintest of smiles.

You shook your head, tapping the page lightly with your fingertip before nudging him with your elbow. He tilted his head slightly, his wand tracking the small gesture.

“Ah, so you’re watching me now, are you?” he teased, his voice warm and familiar. “What did I do to deserve such attention?”

Your smile was small but genuine, and for the first time in a few days, you found yourself speaking. “You’re more interesting than the book.”

The words were soft, almost tentative, but Ominis didn’t react the way most people would have—no wide-eyed shock, no overenthusiastic congratulations for having spoken at all. He simply let his smile widen ever so slightly.

"I'm flattered," he said smoothly, his voice carrying the faintest lilt of amusement. “Though I must admit, it’s a rather low bar. What’s the book about? Arithmancy perhaps? Potions? Or something as riveting as Hogwarts: A History?”

You rolled your eyes and nudged him again, this time with a little more force. “It’s Charms,” you murmured quietly.

Ominis hummed thoughtfully, his fingers tracing idle patterns along the sides of the thermos as the warmth seeped into his skin. "Charms, hmm? I suppose we've had enough Potions excitement in the past week with Sebastian's antics."

The mention of Sebastian made you smile despite yourself. It was true—the memory of your boisterous friend nearly setting his cauldron ablaze last week was still far too fresh in your mind. Still, you didn’t answer, content to let the moment linger in its comfortable quiet.

Ominis didn’t mind. He leaned against the wall, letting his head fall back as if listening to something only he could hear. For a moment, you allowed yourself to study him—the elegant curve of his jaw, the way his pale lashes brushed against his cheeks, the slight furrow of concentration between his brows that never seemed to fully fade.

You quickly averted your gaze, a subtle warmth blooming in your cheeks. It felt foolish to linger on such thoughts—Ominis was your best friend... and yet, somewhere along the way—though you couldn’t quite pinpoint when—that friendship had started to feel like something more.

You glanced down at your hands, fidgeting slightly with the corner of the book in your lap, though if Ominis noticed the restless movement, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he tilted his head slightly in your direction, his expression thoughtful.

“I was thinking, perhaps we could—”

The door burst open with a loud creak, and Sebastian’s voice boomed through the tower.

“There you are! I knew you’d be hiding up here!”

You flinched, startled by the sudden noise, and instinctively pulled your knees up slightly, the book slipping from your lap. Ominis turned his head in the direction of the intrusion, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Sebastian strode into the room, his presence filling the quiet space like a storm. Flakes clung to his dark hair and his cheeks were flushed red from the cold. He grinned broadly, brushing snow from his shoulders and looking between the two of you with a mock look of disapproval. “It’s snowing outside—properly snowing—and you’re just sitting here like a couple of house-elves on their day off. Come on, it’s tradition! A snowball fight, all of us outside. Let’s go!”

You shook your head quickly, waving a hand in polite refusal. Sebastian ignored it entirely, his grin widening as he gestured toward the door. “Oh no, no excuses this time. You’re coming. Both of you. Fresh air is good for you, you know. Builds character.”

Ominis sighed, long-suffering and patient as ever. “Sebastian,” he began, his tone calm but firm, “not everyone shares your enthusiasm for freezing to death in the courtyard.”

“Freezing to death? You’re being dramatic,” Sebastian shot back, crossing his arms. “It’s not that cold. Besides, it’s tradition, Ominis. You know, the thing we always do when it snows?”

“I don’t recall agreeing to that tradition,” Ominis said dryly, his lips twitching in the faintest hint of a smirk.

You smiled faintly at their back-and-forth but stayed quiet, hoping Sebastian would get the hint and move on.

But Sebastian, being Sebastian, wasn’t one to give up so easily. “Come on,” he pleaded, his tone shifting to something almost wheedling. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see. A little snow never hurt anyone.”

You sighed silently, once again attempting to wave Sebastian off. You lifted a hand and made a small pushing motion, hoping he’d interpret it as a gentle "no, thank you." But, unsurprisingly, Sebastian was undeterred.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You can’t keep hiding up here forever. We’re your friends—we demand your presence!”

Ominis tilted his head, the faintest hint of irritation flickering across his features. “Sebastian, she doesn’t want to go.”

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard by the firmness in Ominis’ tone. “How do you know?” he asked, his confusion evident. “She didn’t say—”

“She doesn’t have to,” Ominis interrupted, his voice even but laced with finality. “Unlike you, I actually pay attention. And I know she’s perfectly happy here, where it’s warm and quiet, and she doesn’t have to listen to you yelling about snowball fights.”

Sebastian’s mouth opened as if to argue, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. For a moment, he looked genuinely taken aback, as though it had only just occurred to him that Ominis might know something he didn’t.

You watched the exchange with a mix of relief and guilt, unsure whether to feel grateful for Ominis’ defense or apologetic for putting him in the position of having to defend you in the first place.

But then Sebastian's gaze flicked between the two of you, realization dawning on his face.

“Oh,” he said finally, his voice softening. He ran a hand through his hair, looking vaguely sheepish. “Alright,” he said. “I get it. No snowball fights for the hermits. I’ll leave you to your… brooding.”

He turned back around and the door creaked shut behind him. The room fell silent once more, the faint whistle of the wind outside the only sound.

Ominis let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head as he turned back toward you. “I don’t know how he has so much energy,” he said, his voice soft and wry.

You smiled faintly, your gaze lingering on him as he reached for the thermos again.

After a moment, his expression softened. “Are you alright?”

You nodded resolutely, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. You’d grown used to Sebastian’s unrelenting enthusiasm over the years—his energy was part of what made him… well, Sebastian. Still, the way Ominis had stepped in so effortlessly, his quiet understanding cutting through the noise, filled you with a warmth you couldn’t deny.

Ominis tilted his head slightly, as if studying your silence. He didn’t press further, trusting your nod for what it was, but something in his posture relaxed further when you leaned forward and reached for his hand.

Your fingers brushed lightly against his, tracing the smooth wood of his wand before carefully untangling it from his grasp. He let it go without question, his hand relaxing in yours as you gave it a gentle squeeze, his long fingers curling instinctively around yours.

You glanced at him again, tracing the elegant slope of his nose and the gentle part of his lips, the sharp line of his jaw, and the way the winter light softened the pale angles of his face. There was something so profoundly beautiful about him, a beauty that extended far beyond his aristocratic features—beyond the graceful lines of his profile and the delicate curve of his mouth when he allowed himself to relax.

No, his beauty lay in the quiet depth of him, in the way he simply understood.

Ominis had an uncanny way of cutting through the noise, of seeing people—not with his wand or the faint outlines of their presence—but with a deeper kind of clarity, one rooted in intuition and kindness. He never fumbled through the awkward sympathies others so often offered. He had never pitied you, never tried to "fix" you, never made you feel like the silence you carried was something that needed explaining. He simply accepted it, just as he accepted you.

And yet, that acceptance only made the ache in your chest deepen. It burrowed in, unshakable, a quiet yearning you were terrified to voice but felt all the same.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been staring until his soft voice cut through your thoughts.

“Is there something on my face?” he teased gently, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. You stiffened slightly, your cheeks warming as you quickly looked away, but his voice stopped you before you could retreat too far into yourself. “Don’t,” he said softly, the teasing gone now. “I don’t mind. Really.”

You turned back to him, searching his face for any hint of insincerity, but there was none. Then he tilted his head, a familiar look of curiosity crossing his face.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, his voice thoughtful.

You nodded, already prepared to give him your full attention.

“Can you… try to describe the color blue to me again?”

You blinked, your chest tightening as you remembered the first time he’d asked you that same question years ago. It had been during your fifth year, in a similarly quiet moment, when the two of you had been working together in the library. Back then, the question had caught you completely off guard, and you’d struggled to find the words, fumbling through clumsy metaphors and vague comparisons until he’d laughed softly and said, “Don’t worry. It’s impossible, isn’t it?”

And yet, he was asking again.

Ominis must have sensed your hesitation, because he tilted his head further, his expression softening. “You don’t have to if it’s too much,” he added hastily.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “No,” you murmured softly, your voice carrying a gentle steadiness that surprised even you. “I would love to.”

His smile widened just slightly, a quiet encouragement that eased the tension in your chest. He didn’t say anything else, didn’t press or rush you. He simply waited, patient as ever, his head tilted toward you with that same thoughtful expression.

You took a slow breath, glancing beyond the tower where the snowfall blurred the edges of the world. “Blue,” you began, the word delicate on your tongue. “It’s… calm. Like the way the castle feels early in the morning, before everyone wakes up. Quiet and… soft.”

“It’s endless,” you continued, your voice growing steadier with each word. “Like the sky on a clear day… or the ocean when it stretches out so far you can’t see where it ends. Blue is... how the world feels after a storm, when everything is still and clean."

Ominis hummed softly, the sound low and thoughtful, as though he were letting the images settle in his mind. “...what about red?"

You paused. Red? He had never asked about that color before. Your fingers brushed the fabric of your skirt as you gathered your thoughts, unsure how to capture something so vivid and raw compared to the soft serenity of blue.

“Red,” you repeated softly, the word lingering on your tongue. You closed your eyes for a moment, searching for the right way to begin. “It’s… intense. It’s the opposite of calm, like fire—the kind that warms you on a cold night but can burn if you get too close.”

“It’s bold,” you continued, your voice gaining strength. “It demands to be noticed. Like the way the sun burns on the horizon at dusk, or the petals of a rose in bloom. It’s… like it’s always moving, always burning, always… feeling.”

Ominis hummed softly, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the thermos. The sound was contemplative, thoughtful, and carried with it a weight that made your heart skip. He tilted his head slightly, the faintest ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

“Red,” he said again, as though tasting the word. “...sounds a bit like Sebastian, doesn’t it?”

You blinked at him, startled by the comparison, but then quiet laughter escaped you before you could stop it. It was soft, barely more than a breath, but Ominis’ smile grew at the sound, as though it was exactly what he’d hoped to hear.

“And you,” he continued, his voice dropping to something quieter, more thoughtful, “you must be blue.”

The laughter died in your throat, replaced by a stunned silence as his words settled over you. Your chest tightened, your pulse quickening as you tried to process the weight of what he’d just said. “Me?” you asked softly, barely able to get the word out.

Ominis nodded, his pale eyes unseeing but somehow fixed on you in a way that made you feel completely exposed. "Definitely." Then, with a faint smile tugging at his lips, he added, “It’s a good thing blue’s my favorite color, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, the weight of his words pressing down on you, the ache in your chest growing heavier and warmer all at once.

You’re blue. Blue is my favorite color.

He tilted his head toward you, the faintest hint of a smirk playing at his mouth. “Though, for the sake of my sanity, let’s not tell Sebastian, shall we? He’d throw a fit, I’m sure. Something dramatic and unnecessarily loud about not being my favorite.”

You stiffened, unsure what you felt more: the thrill of his admission or the quiet terror that came with it. Ominis didn’t say things lightly—not like Sebastian with his boisterous declarations. Every word he spoke carried meaning, even when he tried to hide it behind humor.

And this? This was no different.

You wanted to say something, to let him know how much his words meant to you, but you couldn’t find the words—couldn’t trust your voice to steady itself enough to respond.

Instead, you reached for your bag, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled out the small notebook you always carried with you. Ominis tilted his head toward the sound, his expression curious but patient as you flipped to a blank page.

Your hand moved quickly, the ink bleeding into the paper as you scrawled out your thoughts in a hurried but deliberate hand.

When you finished, you turned the notebook toward him, your chest tightening as his hand brushed lightly against yours to find the edge of the parchment. His wand trailed along the page until it found the text, and he began to read, the faintest smile tugging at his lips.

“Ah, I see... working our way through the rainbow, hm?” he murmured, his voice quiet but tinged with warmth, “Alright, tell me about green, then.”

You hesitated for a moment, the enormity of what you were about to share making your chest tighten. But then you took a deep breath and began to write again. This time, the words came more slowly, each one deliberate, as if you were crafting something far too precious to rush.

When you finished, you turned the notebook back toward him, your fingers trembling slightly as you placed it in his hands. His touch lingered against yours for just a moment before he tilted his head toward the page. His wand found the first line, and you watched as his lips parted faintly, reading the words under his breath.

"Green is quiet and steady, never shouting for attention but always present. It’s subtle and unassuming, yet it fills every corner it touches with life and hope. It’s the sound of wind rustling through the trees, the softness of moss beneath your feet, and the earthy scent of rain-soaked ground. Gentle yet resilient, green endures—always waiting to grow, no matter how cold or dark the world becomes."

Ominis stilled as his wand hovered over the final lines, his breath catching ever so slightly.

“Green is my favorite color,” he read aloud, his voice soft and steady, though you could hear the faintest tremor beneath it. “And you're green.”

Ominis’ lips parted as though he wanted to say something, but no words came. His fingers tightened slightly on the edges of the notebook before he set it down slowly, carefully. His wand followed, placed deliberately on top of the pages, forgotten in the stillness of the moment.

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were certain he could hear it, each thud echoing in your ears and resonating in your chest. Your throat was dry, your breath shallow, and for a moment, you felt completely frozen in place. The only movement was the snow drifting lazily outside, its quiet beauty mirroring the fragile stillness between you.

Then, he lifted a hand, tentative and slow, as though unsure of himself. His fingers hovered in the space between you, searching, hesitant. You knew what he was looking for, and with the faintest movement, you leaned into his reach.

His fingertips brushed your cheek first, featherlight and cautious, before his palm settled against your skin. His hand was warm despite the cold, his thumb tracing an achingly gentle path along your cheekbone before moving lower, brushing the corner of your lips.

He hesitated, his fingers trembling slightly as he drew in a shallow breath. “...May I?”

You swallowed hard, heart thrashing wildly against your ribs. But you nodded. And then, slowly, achingly slowly, Ominis leaned in.

His lips met yours in a kiss so soft, so tentative, it felt like the gentlest of questions—a silent plea, a quiet wondering, seeking something only you could give.

You froze for the briefest second, your breath catching in your chest as the warmth of him flooded your senses. And then, slowly, you answered. You tilted your head ever so slightly, leaning into him, and with that simple movement, you gave him his answer. Yes. Yes, this was real. Yes, this was what you wanted. Yes, you were here.

His breath hitched, a soft, uneven sound that sent a warmth cascading through your chest, and the tension in your shoulders began to unravel. He relaxed too, his lips moving against yours with a quiet intensity, like he’d been waiting for this moment far longer than he’d ever admit. And maybe he had.

Maybe you both had.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested gently against each other, your breaths mingling in the quiet stillness of the Astronomy Tower. Ominis’ lips quirked into a small, almost boyish smile, and you felt the light brush of his fingers against yours, warm and steady—a grounding presence amidst the rush of emotions coursing through you.

“Teal,” he murmured, his voice soft, threaded with amusement, though there was a flicker of something deeper beneath it—something tender.

You blinked, your brow furrowing in confusion. “Huh?”

“Teal,” he repeated, his smile growing slightly as he tilted his head toward you. “If I'm green, and you're blue… does that make us teal? Or turquoise, maybe?”

The unexpectedness of his comment startled a laugh out of you, the sound light and warm as it bubbled up in your chest. Ominis smiled at the sound, his expression softening into something so achingly tender that it left you feeling lightheaded.

“Teal, turquoise… what’s next? Aqua?” you teased, the corners of your lips tugging upward into a grin. “Or maybe cyan?”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I suppose it doesn't matter, does it?” he asked, his voice dropping to something softer, something that made your heart ache. “Whichever one we are… it’s ours.”