#vital but not her sole connection

[unhingedselfships]

There's something so sad about Kadokura-verse Kimi. Er, aside from the obvious things lmao.

She knows he'll never really care about her. And she accepts that. But it hurts. It hurts so much. She's so desperate for his regard. To be valued at all.

Unfortunately for her, she has next to no use to him.

Sure they share a fair few interests and as "dumb" as she is, she is actually fairly intelligent, and more than that, creative. Coming up with wild, seemingly outlandish answers to problems, that work.

So she could carry a conversation.

He already has people for that.

She doesn't really have skills he values, and while she's young and could be honed, isn't really worth the investment more than likely. She isn't in any way exceptional.

About all she really has to offer is her fervent loyaty and love and adoration and. Well he rather balks at that.

Her care is... unneeded.

Perhaps she can be used for something someday. A pawn to be tossed aside, perhaps, but at least she was useful for something.

It's unfortunate that he was not and never could be just a "boss" to her. She latched on, unhealthily so. And blurred lines that probably never should have been. She's manufactured in her head a closeness that doesn't exist. She sees him, yes, as her employer, but also as a friend, as family, and it just isn't mutual. I don't think she even really meant to inflate her own significance, she doesn't think herself important at all. She just created an emotional relationship that is very one sided and kinda forgot that it's... Well one sided. She reaches for him in many ways as one would a closer connection, than the connection they really have.

It's rather tragic, but she chose it.

(well sort of, she and her collection of mental illnesses lmfao)

[shomatoriashi]

11/03/24; 06:20pm

sylus x fem.reader

love and deepspace - spy au | canon divergent | inspired by the kingsman movie series

warnings: unedited; 18+ content; potentially ooc; alcohol use; death of a family member; angst to fluff / smut; sylus is referred to skye in this story / au.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

alternate title: the spy who loved me.

sylus qin-

a name that was synonymous with fear among the underground world.

much of his background was left a mystery, but that didn't stop people from trying to fill in the missing details with their own rumors-

like how he wasn't human due to the destructive evol he carried; that he had struck a deal with the devil himself to obtain such an ability.

or how his movements were as quick and silent as that of shadows, and that sylus had millions of eyes around the world due to his connection to the crows-

yet there was one fact that remained true regardless of what the rumors said, and it was how that man was a vital part of onychinus, a hidden sect made up of skilled assassins and spies that only a select few of people even knew about-

which included your father, the current head of your family's mafia.

he paces around his office, trailing his eyes over his mahogany desk before landing on a picture of you, his sole daughter. his gaze was solemn when he picks up the picture frame, carefully tracing at your smiling features as you were being held within your mother's embrace.

you had turned 24, celebrating your birthday with your mother as you wore the bracelet she had given you that day as a gift. looking at this picture causes the man's heart to clench almost painfully within his chest.

his wife was still so vibrant; how could he have possibly known that her life would end just a mere few weeks later? a bullet had pierced through her heart, his men unable to shield her when a rival faction had targeted her. and upon realizing that your mother had died-

you had changed drastically.

no longer were you the starry-eyed girl who clung to her parents, basking in their unconditional love for you. now, you became someone that had little regard for her own life-

you drank copious amounts of alcohol, going out to bars every single night with every intention to get blacked out drunk. the pain of losing your mother took its toll on you, and truly, your father understood where this behavior was coming from. the loss of your mother was enough to push you over the edge.

despite his best efforts of trying to soothe your broken soul through various means (buying you a new car, filling your room with all of the things you loved)-

it didn't work.

and if he couldn't stop you soon, then he would lose you, too.

he no longer trusted his men to truly keep you safe during this dire time in your life-

which was why he resorted to hiring the devil himself to be your shield.

{ ... }

when sylus was told he had a new client by luke and kieran, he was barely interested and simply waved off their excitement.

however, once the twins showed him the down payment the man, mr. zero, had given him-

he was all too willing to meet with the man to see what his next job would be like. using one of the many bars he had owned as a meeting spot, sylus had sent his client a text detailing the time and place with a thinly veiled warning of what would happen if he was ever late.

adjusting his suit, sylus brushes back his hair while entering the club, crimson eyes scanning the area before heading towards one of the private rooms. the bouncer greets him before opening the door, revealing a middle aged man seated in front of him.

the door was heard shutting from behind him, and sylus takes a brief moment to finally assess zero's features. as the onychinus leader stared at him, he noticed how the man appeared much older than he probably was. a weary expression was seen on his face, and even when he was smiling at him, it was filled with a bitterness.

"i hope that my payment was enough to get your attention, mr. qin." sylus hums, going towards the bar to pour him and mr. zero a shot of whiskey. "you could say that... after all, there's not many people who would give me a down payment of 50 million."

after pouring the drinks, sylus hands zero a glass before sitting across from him. he takes casual sips of the amber liquid, allowing the smoky flavor to burn down his throat as he waited for the older man to speak. zero runs a hand across his hair, tilting the glass up to his lips as he downed the shot of whiskey within seconds. as he slams down the glass, zero pulls out a photograph before sliding it across the table.

setting his drink to the side, sylus takes a moment to admire the picture, seeing a young woman smiling with what he assumed was her mother.

"that's my daughter and her mother... my wife- she was killed a year ago, and i have never been able to forgive myself for being unable to protect my wife." sylus frowns at the image, detecting the way zero's voice broke down. "my daughter still grieves the loss of her mother, and i'm afraid that she'll go down a path that not even i can save her from."

"please, i beg of you, mr. qin. i need you to protect my daughter by whatever means is necessary. if you do this for me, with each month that she remains safe- at least until i can finally bring my wife's murderer to justice, i swear to you, i'll give you 10 million."

sylus's eyes darken with amusement, tilting up his own glass of whiskey as he downs the shot in one gulp. letting out a satisfied sigh, sylus sits back against the couch while spinning the glass around his pointer finger, "10 million per month... and if my services were to last an entire year-"

"money is not an issue when it comes to protecting the ones that i love." zero's gaze was filled with a determination, making sylus break out into an almost shit-eating grin.

perhaps the best clients were the doting fathers who would give anything for their daughters.

{ ... }

your dad had put you on lockdown again.

but were you going to let that stop you?

hell no.

surrounding the borders of your room were dozens of men that worked for your father. not only had they put an external lock on your bedroom door, but a tracker on your phone as well.

deep down, you knew the true reasoning as to why your father kept you in such a luxurious cage-

but you refused to acknowledge it.

feeling your heart begin to clench with pain, you look away from your door and allowed your gaze to land on the shimmering gold settled on your right wrist. as you take in the various charms and the way the gemstones glittered below your bedroom light, a memory of a loving smile was brought to the forefront of your mind-

a loving smile you would never see again.

panic was felt rising against your throat, the raw pain of it all threatening to spill out of you as bitter and harsh as bile. your heart continues to pound, filling you with a desperation as you quickly headed toward your window.

fueled by your own grief, you push open the window and breathe in the cold air, allowing the rush of adrenaline to course through you. your eyes look at the distance between the edge of your window and the ground below. knowing that this was the only way for you to get out of your stifling prison, you began to climb out of your window sill, trying to hang on to the best of your abilities as you decided when the best time to jump was.

as you focused your attention on the pristine grass that was settled below you, the sounds of a motorcycle passing by makes your heart jump within the confines of your throat. your eyes become quickly blinded by the searing light, making you lose your grip on the windowsill.

your body make its quick descent to the ground, and you clenched your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the painful impact-

yet the impact never comes, with your ears managing to pick up the sounds of something shift within the air. your eyes become wide, seeing a tall man with silver hair appear in front of you as he captures you in his arms.

time seemed to stand still, with the perfect stranger shielding you as he landed on the ground with an audible grunt. he ends up taking the brunt of the fall while keeping you safely tucked away with his embrace. blood was felt rushing to your ears, making you feel dizzy as you steadied yourself by placing the palm of your hand against his chest.

you found yourself straddling this man's waist, lips parted as you drank in the sight of him. never before had you seen such a pure, masculine beauty quite like him, with full lips and ruby red eyes that could make your heart melt-

and judging from the sheer girth of his arms wrapped around you, the strength of his body was evident to you as well.

he smirks at you, and you wince when he places the pad of his thumb against your lips, "what's this? has a princess just escaped from her castle?"

your mouth goes dry upon hearing his voice, and had you been given more time, you would have basked in his voice-

however, sudden cries of your name was what succeeds in breaking you out of your reveries. with a gasp, you cling to this hot stranger and look at him with pleading eyes.

"please, you've got to get me away from here, i beg of you."

he shoots up an eyebrow at you, but thankfully does not ask questions. taking you in his arms, he takes quick strides toward the single motorbike settled on the street. you take in the sight of the sleek vehicle, eyebrows furrowed when you saw two helmets settle on the seat.

but you were given little time to think about it, feeling your bare feet land against the concrete as he relinquishes his hold on you. tossing you the other helmet, he gestures at you to get behind him, "if it's a getaway you want, it's a getaway you're going to get, sweetie."

calls of your name were getting louder now, which prompted you to get on the back of his bike while donning the helmet. as he revved up his bike, you made sure to flash your middle finger at your father's men all while clinging to the front of your savior's chest.

{ ... }

sylus wasn't expecting you to be so damn alluring up close. as he felt the way your body was pressed against his back, a strange warm begins to surround him, the sensation being enough to make his heart begin to race steadily from within his chest. when sylus made his escape from your home, the change in your demeanor was immediate.

the sounds of your melodious laughter echoes from behind him, and he sees the way your hair whips from behind you. reaching a stoplight, he brakes in time, balancing his bike while taking a moment to look back at you-

which ends up being the biggest mistake he could make.

he feels the way your head rests against his broad back, noticing the almost wistful expression in your eyes. ignoring the way his heart began to pound, sylus focuses on the traffic light. deciding to hide his emotions behind a snarky remark, he begins to speak, "it's not normal for spoiled princesses like you to get on a bike with a stranger."

sylus swore he could hear your pout, "i'm not a princess... i'm just... i just want to forget."

he hears the way your voice breaks and frowns, ready to say something, but stops when the light turns green. shaking his head, sylus chooses to forget about your pain, recalling the reason why he was put in this situation to begin with.

strengthening his resolve, sylus picks up speed and weaves expertly across the city, the sound of your laughter no longer echoing from behind him.

{ ... }

your savior ends up taking you to the top floor of a high-rise apartment. carrying the two helmets within his hand, you watch as he extracts a sleek black key card from his pocket, opening the door for you to step in first.

"after you, princess."

"i have a name." you fold your arms across your chest, telling the man the syllables that make up your name. amusement was heard in his voice, and you forced yourself to remain calm when his rich voice repeated your name.

"i like that name, it suits a feisty woman like you. as for me, you may call me skye."

as you step into his apartment, you take in the the luxurious furniture, recognizing the brands while your hands traced at the onyx figurines of crows settled on the table. you look back at the man and scoff, "skye? i'm sorry, but that name does not suit you at all."

you look away from him, becoming interested in the cabinet that was filled with expensive bottles of liquor, completely missing the offended look on skye's face. you step closer to the cabinet, pulling the glass door open before gripping at a bottle of cognac.

before you could twist the cap open, sylus stops you by placing a hand around your wrist. a stern expression was settled on his face, "and what do you think you're doing?"

"i'm trying to forget." a flash of emotion was seen in his gaze, yet just as it appears, it was gone within mere seconds. even when you attempted to remove your hand from his grip, skye doesn't relent, managing to take the bottle of cognac away from you.

"whatever you're trying to forget, i'm sure using liquor isn't the answer."

skye places the bottle back into the cabinet, slamming it shut before taking your hand. as he grips at your wrist, you caught sight of your bracelet shimmering against your skin-

making your throat close up in response.

caught up in your painful reveries, you were dimly aware of how skye places you on a seat, settling you in front of a dining table. your eyes never once looked away from the bracelet your mother had given you-

the last gift you would ever receive from her.

you think back to your last day with her-

and the need to reach out and get a bottle to help with drowning your emotions quickly resurfaces, with you ready to bolt towards the cabinet when the sound of glass being slammed in front of you snaps you out of it.

skye was settled in front of you, a frown painting his devastating features when he slides the glass of ice water toward you. "drink this instead, you need it."

unable to find it in yourself to go against him, you take the glass and place it to your lips, draining it within a few gulps. skye watches you intently, noticing the few droplets that fell from your mouth before descending toward your throat, making his eyes darken in response to the sight.

letting out a weary sigh, you place the glass back down on the table, not meeting skye's gaze. listening as he gently inhaled, skye tentatively asks you, "this is none of my business, but i need to know... just what are you trying so hard to forget?"

you don't answer him for several seconds, clenching your eyes shut as you allowed your hands to form into fists against the table. no matter how much time had passed, this was something you would never get over-

"i lost my mom... she was killed..."

you keep your eyes shut, just basking in your memories as you told skye everything. it was strange, but something about skye made you want to open up to him-

that even though you knew it was crazy to feel such a thing for a man you

"to keep it simple, my father... he's a... he's a really powerful man. he comes from a long line- from old money, essentially. when he was younger, he fell in love with my mom, who happened to be a normal civilian."

you take a moment to gather your emotions, taking in a deep breath as your hands began to tremble. just when you felt like you were close to losing it, skye places a hand over yours, engulfing it in a warmth that soothed your anxieties.

opening your eyes, you gasp upon seeing how close skye was to you. his rufescent eyes appeared... softer, somehow. you felt the way his hands gently frame at your face as the pad of his thumb traced at your bottom lip.

"and you were born out of love." skye's voice was solemn, with his expression void of its playfulness. yet his words succeeds in making your throat clench even further in response. you were left dumbfounded, watching as sylus slowly inched closer to you, with his lips a mere few inches away from your own-

why did it feel like he knew?

his breath warms at your lips, and just as you were about to close your eyes to meet with him-

a sudden knock at the door makes you jump away from him.

skye clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he stands from his seat to answer the door. you were about to ask who it was, but stopped when you smelled the familiar scent of your favorite takeout. with the bag in hand, skye returns to you, placing the food in front of you. as you looked at all the containers, you said out loud, "all of these are my favorites..."

you catch the momentary stiffness in skye's composure before he visibly relaxes. "sweetie, you are mistaken, since such a meal can be anyone's favorite."

the strangeness of it all was starting to get to you-

but when skye opens up a container and offers it to you, you allow the lingering scent to wrap around you, awakening in you a hunger that you hadn't felt in a long time. taking a hold of your utensils, you began to dig into your favorite food-

with the lingering doubts still settled at the back of your mind.

{ ... }

being around you proved to be a much more challenging feat than sylus could have ever anticipated.

before he got to know you, sylus had every intention of whisking you away after your failed escaping attempt, keeping you within his penthouse for 12 months with the goal of collecting the 120 million from your father-

but now that he was forced to be in your presence-

forced to see the vulnerability in your eyes along with the pain that came from missing your mother-

he felt something change.

why did it suddenly feel like the money didn't matter to him anymore?

why did the sight of your smile cause his heart to do somersaults within his chest?

why did it feel like his mission was to truly protect you without any conditions?

sylus quickly erases those thoughts from his mind the moment his phone rings. looking down at the screen, he notices the caller's name and visibly stiffens.

it was your father, the man who chose his alias to be zero.

was it already time for his monthly report?

closing his eyes, he answers the call while ignoring the feeling of guilt that threatens to take root inside of him.

{ ... }

your relationship with skye was... odd, to say the least.

despite how serendipitous your meeting with him felt (like he was in the right place at the right time the night of your desperate escape), you couldn't deny that a part of you felt safe with him.

perhaps the loss of your mother made you lose a bit of your rationality. losing her felt like you were left with a gaping hole deep inside of your chest-

a hole that you wanted to be filled by skye.

it was maddening, trying to sift through your emotions when it came to skye. you had been staying with him for close to 6 months now, yet the way he payed so much attention to you (seeming to care for you while buying the things you needed, never once complaining about your presence) coupled along with his lingering kindness-

it was enough for him to weasel his way into your heart-

yet at the same time, you knew that he was acting suspicious. there was something that skye was hiding from you, which did nothing but further complicate the feelings you had for him.

despite how strange everything felt, one fact remained undeniable-

and it was the fact that his presence was enough to pacify the shattering pain of your mother's death, with you practically clinging to him as the days went by. with his snarky and haughty attitude, you felt incredibly safe when he was close to you-

even now, you found yourself yearning for his presence, even though he was settled a mere few feet away from you. your hands itched with the need to grab on to his hand and ruffle his hair each time he teased you-

so caught up in your thoughts, you end up unconsciously walking toward his room, noticing how it remained slightly open. his deep voice was heard speaking in hushed tones into his cellphone, and as you neared the room, you heard a familiar sound coming from skye's phone-

"i don't want the money anymore, i'll send every last penny back, just please-" skye harshly speaks into his phone, making your heart turn to ice when you recognized the booming voice on the other line-

it was the sound of your father's voice.

"how do you know my father?" skye immediately faces you, dropping his phone in the progress. the man visibly pales, swallowing thickly as he shakily called out your name.

"i-it's not what you think, please believe me, it's not what you think it is-"

"you...you lied to me? you had b-been working for my father this whole time?" angry tears cascades down your face, and when skye visibly winces, looking away from you while letting out a string of curses-

that was all the evidence that you needed.

you turn away from him, running out of his room as the tears marred your vision. reaching the front door, you pull it open with a brute force that nearly rips it from its hinges. knowing that he would catch you if you tried to use the elevators, you hurriedly take the stairs, making your desperate descent while choking back your sobs.

everything made sense now-

like how strange it was that skye had another helmet for you-

or how he knew your favorite takeout-

and the way he seemed to read your mind these past couple of months-

it was all because of your father.

everything had been meticulously planned by him-

and you were stupid enough to fall for it.

gasping for air, you manage to escape out of the apartment building, the tears streaming even faster down your cheek as you staggered into the street, breaking out into a run while praying that skye wouldn't find you.

your mind was in a deep haze, exhaustion tingeing your every step when a low whistle was heard.

"i knew you'd run out of onychinus's cage eventually."

your movements ceased when you felt the barrel of the gun become pressed against your head, an icy sensation now felt coursing through your veins. your throat turns dry, and you caught sight of a tattooed man sneering at you, cocking his gun once more before pressing it against your temple.

"you're comin' with me, princess." he smirks at you, continuing to press the gun even closer to your head, "as much as i'd like to shoot your pretty little brains out like i did with your mama, i'm sure your daddy's willing to pay a hefty price just to have you back. once i get the money, then i'll kill him before claiming victory-" he was suddenly cut off when a crow manages to slam the gun out of his hands, its beady eyes never once straying from the man as it let out a harsh caw!

"what the fuck-"

the man was unable to finish his sentence when darkness surrounds the entirety of his body, wrapping around his form like deadly tendrils-

"close your eyes, princess."

recognizing skye's voice, you immediately turn away from him and clench your eyes shut, hearing a piercing scream before the wet sounds of something imploding in on itself echoes throughout the area. you fell down to your knees, only to be caught by a powerful pair of arms.

you were openly sobbing now, clinging to the front of his shirt, "s-skye... w-what...why-"

skye cuts you off, swallowing your words with a searing kiss when he crashes his lips against yours. you moan at the sudden sensation, tightening your grip on him as he pulls you into his broad chest, shielding you from the gruesome sight that was settled a mere few inches away from you.

"not here," he purposely crushes your face within his chest, blocking your vision when he picks you up. your tears were still falling, yet you felt the strange sensation of your body being pulled, with the air seeming to crackle with static in response for a brief moment-

before landing back within the quiet safety of skye's living room.

with your face still hidden within his chest, you felt the way skye began to tremble, pulling away from you. he shakily frames at your face, using the pad of his thumb to trace at your bottom lip before telling you, "fuck, i thought i lost you-"

as if remembering the moment, skye takes you back into his arms, pressing another kiss against your lips, filled with an even greater desperation than the last one.

not daring to break apart his connection to you, he takes you to his bedroom, kicking down the door before falling into his bed with him. your hands grip at the silken sheets, letting out a moan when skye dips a hand into the waistband of your pants.

"it may have started out as a lie, but my feelings for you are true." you feel the way he dips a finger into your folds, collecting your arousal as you tossed your head back in response. his breathing becomes labored when he inserts his middle fingers inside of you, thrusting the single digit in and out of your core before huskily admitting to you, "my true name... is sylus qin... and your father hired me to protect you."

a part of you felt angry and annoyed, but feeling the way skye sylus was moving his thick finger in and out of your slick heat was making your mind go hazy. instead of using your words, you allow your nails to grip at his biceps before raking down his skin, earning a hiss from him.

"fuck, kitten, that hurt- but how about you punish me more and give my back those same claw marks?"

you hated how the sight of his smirk was enough to make your legs clench in response for him, feeling sylus remove his finger from your slick heat momentarily, now gripping at the waistband of his pants as unbuckled himself-

his crimson gaze was eclipsed by complete darkness now, his desire and need for you evident in the way he tore off his clothes, ensuring that he was utterly bare for you. your traitorous heart ends up racing in response to his nakedness, and you felt a powerful ache settle between your legs at the sight of sylus's godly form. recognizing the lust in your eyes causes him to smirk as he places his large hands against your clothes, now working on tearing off your own clothes until you were utterly bare for him.

hungry eyes raked through your form, and you watch as sylus licked his lips before laying back down against the bed. he spreads your legs wide open for him, giving your inner thighs a kiss before whispering against your skin, "let me show you the true depths of my devotion to you... let me make it up to you."

"sylus-"

you had only said his true name out loud, but it was enough to make sylus surge forward, burying his face within your slick walls. the sensation of his tongue drinking up the evidence of your honeyed arousal makes you fall back in bed, hands gripping at his soft hair. instinctively, you spread your legs wider for him, allowing sylus to take you to heaven when he kept devouring you like he was a man starved.

never had you felt such potent sensations of pleasure before, with sylus expertly eliciting moans and gasps of his name, allowing it to fall from your parted lips like a never-ending mantra. as he continued his ministrations on you, the more you felt a coil seem to tighten within your abdomen. "o-oh my god, s-sylus!"

you gasp when your back arches against the bed, with sylus keeping your hips still as you spilled yourself into his hot mouth. with a grunt of your name, sylus drinks in everything you had to offer. red hot pleasure courses through you, making you cry out to him as you tightened your grip against his hair.

"ngh... fuck... you taste s'fucking sweet." sylus manages to release his hair from your hands, crawling toward you as he spread your legs wide for him to settle between. drunk off of the sheer taste of you, sylus presses his lips against yours, purposely deepening the kiss, allowing you to taste yourself with his kiss alone.

distracting you with his kiss, you managed to remain relaxed for him when sylus suddenly pushes his cock into your entrance, the sudden intrusion making you toss your head back as you cling to sylus. a string of curses was heard coming from the man settled above you. when you felt your walls taking in every inch you had to offer (completely sheathing him), you lost all train of thought, allowing the man to piston his hips in and out of you.

"fuck...!" sylus grips at your hips, keeping it still as he begins to thrust his cock in and out of your slick walls at a breakneck pace. the squelching sounds of your lovemaking echo throughout the room, making you cry out to him when you felt the moisture flowing out of you.

"o-oh...!" you gasp, wrapping your legs around sylus's naked waist, allowing him to reach deeper inside of you with each pound. by now, he was quite literally fucking you into his bed-

and you found yourself enjoying every minute of it.

from the way sylus seemed to harshly grip at your waist, you were certain that it would leave a bruise-

yet you didn't care, allowing this powerful man to bring you towards another release while you sloppily met his thrusts with your own-

the telltale sensation of his cock growing inside of you as he tightens, stilling his hips one last time before spilling thick ropes of his cum deep within you succeeds in making you cry out to him, your voice seeming to echo throughout the room along with sylus's growl of your name.

unable to help himself, sylus captures your lips once more, purposely swallowing your moans as he rode out both of your releases, his hips weakly pounding in and out of you, making sure that you had milked every last drop out of him before landing next to you on the bed.

your body was damp with sweat as a pleasant haze goes through you. not wishing to break your connection with sylus, you tentatively move closer to him, resting your head against his chest before pressing a kiss against it.

"y-you... did you want me... to forget that i'm mad at you by fucking my brains out?" you weakly manage to tease him, earning a rich chuckle from him.

"depends... is it working?" he leans down to press a kiss against your hair, making you smile when you cheekily tell him,

"how about you find out... when we go a few more rounds...?"

sylus needed no further urging from you, returning back to you as he placed a desperate kiss against your lips...

[ epilogue ]

your father was pacing around his office, filled with anxiety at being caught.

he prayed that you would forgive him-

that he could see you again, happy and whole despite your own pain.

truly, your father wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms, to bring you back home all while telling you that he did this all in the name of love-

that losing your mother made him go crazy at the thought of losing you, too-

but a part of him still felt too guilty to do anything.

as he was caught up in his thoughts, the sound of a notification coming from his phone startles him, making him look down at his phone to see a message from sylus himself.

eager to know what it says, he opens up the text and reads through it, eyes filled with relief as the older man breaks out into a grin. in the text was what looked like a screenshot of a bank account wiring back 110 million dollars along with a single text:

i finally understand. she's worth all the money. with this payment, i promise to protect her for the rest of my life - s.q.

end notes: omg i can't believe i'm gonna lose sleep over this story, but lmaoo, it's my dream story, and i need to finish writing this. spy!sylus, how i need you so 😭🙌🏻 this is currently unedited, but i'll make any changes tomorrow, it's bedtime for me!! also, for the reader's dad using an alias to contact sy, i wanted to do something so you readers could use any name that suits you outside of the alias! making it a true insert hhhhhhhh 🥹 this was a tough story to write though, but i hope you readers enjoyed it all the same!

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[poisonlove]

A macchiato, please | j.o

part 1

I'm finally home, wrapped in the familiar atmosphere only my apartment can provide. Tex, my affectionate German Shepherd, is my sole company at the moment.

"Hello, sweetheart," I whisper gently, bending down to pet his head as his tail wags happily, displaying pure joy.

"I know... you're hungry," I confirm with a resigned sigh, heading to the kitchen. I open a can of dog food and mix it carefully with the kibbles.

"Enjoy your meal!" I add with a shy smile as Tex starts to happily devour his food.

I toss the keys onto the table.

I was so tired that I decided to skip my usual nightly routine and went straight to bed. I fall onto the soft mattress, exhausted from the long day.

As I turn on my phone, the screen greets me with a notification that seems like a dream.

Jennaortega has started following you.

A thrill of excitement rushes through me.

"I can't believe it," I whisper to myself with a small smile, feeling as if I've won the lottery of luck.

Curious to know more about her, I access her profile, smiling at her beautiful close-up picture. Her bright, happy eyes convey an infectious vitality.

"Wow, 40 million followers," I thought incredulously. It was like stepping into a whole new world, filled with enthusiastic followers.

I smile as I see numerous comments filled with love and support for Jenna, carefully observing her latest post: she was inside a car, wearing headphones. An involuntary sigh escapes my lips; her brown eyes seem to gaze at me as if wanting to read my soul. Her slightly parted lips, her perfectly falling bangs... her posture so natural by the window told a story of freedom and carefreeness.

I follow her back.

With shyness and anxiety, I open the chat and look at Jenna Ortega's profile picture. "You can do this... just say hi," I murmur to myself, trying to muster some courage.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed the place I manage to write, my fingers trembling slightly. I send the message, feeling my heart race. I exit the chat, letting the adrenaline rush through my veins.

I wait anxiously, heart in my mouth, hoping for a response.

The minutes seem endless as the chat remains on standby. Then, suddenly, the phone emits a sound, indicating a new incoming message. The lit screen shows the name Jenna Ortega and a short but kind message: Hi! Yes, I really enjoyed the place, the atmosphere was truly cozy. Thanks!

A spontaneous smile spreads across my face. Is there something you're particularly passionate about? I write, hoping to make the conversation deeper and more interesting.

Jenna's response comes quickly: Mmmh... why this random question?

I nervously bite my lower lip. I don't know, I'd love to know something about you that the internet can't tell me I write honestly.

I involuntarily smile as Jenna puts a heart on my message. "In that case... I love art and culture, so I enjoy visiting museums and art galleries. And also nature, taking long walks in parks."

I feel an immediate connection, as I also loved long walks, especially with Tex, my loyal four-legged companion.

I decide to share this detail:

I also love taking long walks, especially with Tex, my German Shepherd. He's my faithful adventure companion!

Jenna seems to like the bond with the four-legged friend, and the conversation continues on this topic. We've found a common ground that makes the conversation more authentic and enjoyable.

How about we have a call? she suddenly asks.

I feel a thrill of excitement at the opportunity to hear her voice and get to know each other better.

I reply: I'd love to.

A few seconds later, Jenna's profile picture, a white light, appears.

I swallow and, sighing, I accept the call.

"Hey!" My voice trembles slightly, nervous.

Jenna softly laughs, making my heart beat uncontrollably.

"Hello," Jenna responds.

I can sense the smile she's wearing.

"How are you?" I ask and close my eyes at such a basic question.

"Good... just a bit tired," she comments shyly, letting out a small yawn.

My eyes glance at the alarm clock next to my bed, seeing that it's only 10:08 PM.

"Maybe... we talk tomorrow?" I ask worriedly, biting my lower lip.

My heart hammers rapidly in my chest.

"No... I enjoy talking to you," she confesses, and my cheeks flush.

I sigh in relief knowing she couldn't see my blush and smile widely, almost feeling a pain in my cheeks.

"Oh, well... I can say the same," I reply.

Jenna gently laughs, making me smile even more.

"Do you have any interviews tomorrow? Or have the recordings already started?" I ask curiously.

"Mmmh," Jenna murmurs, thoughtful, "I think we're meeting with Tim," she says almost hesitantly.

"Right, it's not certain they're shooting here," I murmur almost sadly.

"I have no idea... but it's very likely," she admits weakly.

An not uncomfortable silence envelops us.

"And tell me... you said you'd be meeting. Who's with you?" I ask with curiosity, clutching the sheets out of nervousness.

"Oh... let me think," Jenna murmurs, "I believe it's Percy and Emma," she admits.

"Emma?" I ask excitedly. "Enid?" I ask with a smile on my face.

"Yes..." she laughs softly at my enthusiasm.

"Do you know I ship them in Wednesday ?" I say excitedly. "Enid and wdenesday are so close and adorable!" I exclaim happily.

Jenna bursts into laughter.

"Maybe it'll be canon... who knows," she says in a sing-song tone.

"Come to think of it..." she begins. "Maybe one day I could introduce you to the cast," she proposes, and I open my mouth in surprise.

"You're not joking... really?" I ask, and she gently laughs at my excitement.

"Seriously, let's say it's a way to pay you back for the coffee," she murmurs, yawning.

My excitement grows as I talk about my passions, the books I love to read, and the places I like to visit in the city. But then, I notice Jenna murmuring timidly, almost incomprehensibly, not responding.

"Jenna, everything okay?" I ask worriedly, sensing something off in the air.

"Mmmh," Jenna responds even more timidly, as if wanting to hide something.

"Did you see the new movie talk to me?" I ask absentmindedly, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood. "It was strange... I feel sorry for the guy, his face got messed up... but the ending... wow," I murmur absentmindedly, hoping to liven up the conversation.

I notice Jenna getting quieter and quieter, and worry grows inside me. "Am I... boring you?" I ask uncertainly, fearing I've made the conversation dull or tiresome for her.

"No," Jenna barely manages to respond, her voice weak and tired.

"I like your voice... keep going..." she affirms with a yawn, trying to encourage me to talk, but it's evident that fatigue is taking over.

Confused, I stutter in my thoughts, "What was I saying?" My mind is a bit foggy, and the fear of having bored her grows.

Jenna's steady breath makes me realize she has fallen asleep. I smile tenderly, knowing it's been a long day for her. Unfortunately, it's clear that tiredness has taken the lead, and I realize it's best to let her rest.

I gaze at the ceiling of my room, smiling.

"Goodnight, Jen," I whisper with a small smile, feeling the breath of the girl on the other end.

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I have a character named Connie with Albinism who's in a tropey superhero comic esq world as a semi important supporting character. She works with the main heroes sometimes but isn't a hero herself (She's the reporter always getting into trouble type character) . She does however have an "aura reading" type power which manifests as basically just raising the hairs on the back of her neck whenever someone has bad vibes. I'm trying not to bump the "Super Mystical Person with Albinism" trope along the way and I don't think I have since 70% of all the other characters also have powers but I wanted to ask just in case

Hi there! Thanks for your question. I think it is very good that your conception of aura reading is not visually oriented and instead relies on tactile clues, since it does not fall prey to the trope of superpowers overriding people’s disabilities. You have a good starting point, so here are some components to consider for fleshing out the character more:

Albinism goes with Blindness, so if you are not well-versed in writing visually impaired characters in general, that is a vital starting point. All Blindness-causing conditions are more specific and complex than just “can’t see” — with Albinism some specifics will likely include nystagmus, strabismus, ptosis, light sensitivity, etc. Treating it as a disability without any connection to her superpowers helps dismantle the trope.

There are also multiple varying types of Albinism so you must decide which specific type your character will have, and must be prepared to research and treat the other accompanying symptoms of their Albinism with the same complexity as the Blindness.

Is your motive for writing her with Albinism solely motivated by aesthetics? A good litmus test for this is to consider if you would give her OA — a type of albinism that does not result in the white hair/pale skin/red or purple looking eyes. If that is an automatic dealbreaker for you, then that is a sign to re-think your motives. The aesthetic of that form of OCA is a big contributor to the “mystical Albino” trope.

If you truly want them to have that form of Albinism, do it justice! Treat is as the complex condition it is, and do not base her superhero uniform on it or otherwise exotic-ize her appearance.

Please do consider giving her OA! Most people with OA have lighter blue eyes, and may have lighter hair or skin or for the most part can be normally pigmented. So many people do not know this is a type of Albinism and it is much needed representation.

Finally, please consider her race. Even if she has OCA that affects her skin, if she comes from a non-European background, please look into how people of her culture with Albinism view their condition and how it interacts with her environment and family.

Hope this helps! Feel free to ask follow ups.

Mod Zohar

[glisten-inthedark]

Byler Analysis | A Master Analysis

Oh boy, this will be a long one but let's go.

In this analysis, I won't talk about lighting, or about pocket squares, arrows or rainbows. I will talk about only about what the show has showed and told us.

Because while I won't dispute that said lighting, blocking and signs might be important to the story, general viewers aren't aware of it and yet somehow they keep missing vital parts of the story.

The following points are those provided by us by the narrative, by what they show vs what they tell, so strap in because this is a long one. Some of these points have been brought up, actually I think most of them considering I'm new to the fandol but don't mind that.

Our first scene has the boys playing together, but only Will stays behind. It's important to note that while Will bikes away, Mike's eyes follow him as he leaves and he keeps on watching him, fact which is further proved by how the camera remains steady on him for a good while and just after cuts to Mike.

Mike is the first to notice how Will didn't show up at school, and two of his other friends didn't worry about it at first. Then, when Will's body is found, the reaction they choose to focus on it's Mike's. Which begs the question, why differentiate between reactions when all the boys care deeply about Will? Why is Mike's reaction more visceral, more aggressive? And more importantly, why follow him home where we can see him cry into his mother's arms? They didn't show us Lucas' reaction, or Dustin's, instead they focused solely on Mike. And yeah, you could argue that it's because he knew Will the longest, but then we remembered that according to Mike himself, he knew he loved El the moment he met her (I know that's BS, but bare with me for a second), so why wouldn't they show us him being that upset over her apparent demise? Yes, he asks them where she is but that's the only thing he does, and after he just keeps trying to contact her on his walkie but he never actively looks for her. We see that. We even see that he thinks he saw El at the school and yet dismissed it as his imagination.

Later, Mike would claim he never stopped looking for her but that's also not we actually saw. Yes, he called for her, but didn't actively look for her like we saw him do with Will.

There's a stark difference, because with Will he literally started a search party to look for him.

I'm not saying Mike doesn't care for El, of course he does and he always will, but it's not near the same vicinity of what we saw him do for Will and we can't pretend otherwise.

So, why was important that we followed Mike home as he comes to terms with Will's "death?"

It's one of the first signs that their friendship is different, more profound and of more significance.

3. Mike knew that Will was alive

I think most people don't realize that, but Mike knew, just like Joyce knew, that the body didn't belong to Will and he didn't even have the advantage of seeing said body.

They are the only two characters on the show that experience this level of connection to Will. One of them is a mother desperately looking for her child, the other is their best friend.

5. Mike's monologue to Will vs Mike monologue to El

By itself, it's easy to interpret Mike's monologue to Will as the act of a friend. But context is fundamental to storytelling.

Mike isn't the only friend Will has, Lucas and Dustin both care about him. But they made Mike the focus of that moment.

Why?

Bare in mind that all the people that are speaking to him are the people who love Will the most on the world. His mother, and his brother. It isn't just that these are people Will cares about, they are the people that care about him and that love him.

Again, Mike didn't need to be there. All the other boys were left behind, and yet, there was he.

Shouldn't we wonder why? Shouldn't we think about what was trying to be conveyed here?

Why is Mike different? Why is his voice that breaks Will out his trance? Why weren't all the other people that care about Will there too?

Why was it so vital that we saw Mike tell the story of when they met? Why wasn't Lucas there, or Dustin's?

Oh but that only proves they have a close relationship.

Sure, I'd buy that if it weren't for the fact that in season four, we are shown the opposite.

When confronted with his feelings - or lack thereof- Mike literally gaslights El, claiming he does say he loves her.

Later, in the actual scene, everything is pandemonium. El is chocking, the camera keeps showing us Will, there are multiple cuts that get us her reaction and Will's, and Mike hesitates.

The supposed love of his life is chocking to death and he hesitates. He's desperate, he wants to help but he can't, and the only thing that forces him is Will. He only says it because Will reminds him of the painting.

The more I think about that scene, the more contrived and nonsensical it becomes. Because look, I can be a pretty objective person, I can take my feelings out of the equation and state, confidently, that there's a contrast between Mike talking to Will vs him talking to El.

Another thing to note is that Mike doesn't hesitate to share about the brilliance that was meeting Will Byers. He doesn't have to think about or lie. He knows.

He tells the story of this little boy that was all alone, saw another boy on the swings, approached him and asked him to be his friend and how this boy said yes. But is not just that, is how making that decision turns out to be the best thing he's ever done.

He doesn't need to tell Will he loves him (in whichever way it is), it is evident that he does. Even it it's not romantic at the time.

When talking to El, he hesitates. He calls to her, doesn't use the words that he was meant to be using all along. It's only after Will tells him he's the heart that he does.

The contrast exists on the writing, on how things were edited and directed, and how the scenes land themselves.

You don't believe me? Watch them side by side.

The existence of Mike's monologue to El puts into perspective the existence of Mike's monologue to Will. In one, there's the presence of other people, a lot of cuts in between frames, there's the focus on someone that shouldn't even be there and above all else, there's a lie.

Mike didn't love El. He claims he knew then and there - the moment he met her - that he knew he loved her. But he couldn't have. Not when he was trying to send her away, not when the only reason he found her was because he was looking for Will.

But above all else. If that's the case, then choosing Will as a friend couldn't possibly be the best thing he's ever done, simply because the best thing he has ever done would have been harboring El, because he knew the moment he met her that he loved her. Or would've been any moment in which he could be with the supposed love of his life.

In the other, the light is deem, the focus is only on them, Mike tells this story and it's moved to tears by the sheer emotion of that moment.

If we treated Mike as himself and Will as a girl, the trope of true love that breaks the spell would be evident. Because that's what happens. Mike's love - in whichever capacity- breaks the trance.

6. The sudden and 180° shift in Mike's behavior from season 2 to season 3

I know that Mike has been acting well, how to put it nicely? Not like the Mike we met during season 1 and 2

And I particularly viewed that sudden as a combination of multiple things. Firstly, I believe Mike thinks he needs to grow up, and that involves leaving childish things behind.

He is trying to conform to the notions of masculinity, trying to adept himself to what he believes to be socially acceptable and that doesn't include spending time with his friends, one in particular.

But I truly believe that the main focus of Mike's behavioral shift lies in Eleven. He isn't aware of what he's doing, but his ovverfixation with her exists because of his mental state.

What happened in season one? Will got taken and El helped get him back.

What happened in season 2? Will got possessed and almost died, but El managed to shut the gate and save everyone.

But you know what else happened during that time? Mike was solely focused on Will. While yes, he was calling El, his only focus is on him.

Now, I can only guess and infere at this point because unfortunately we lost Mike's POV, but I believe that during the summer he started to figure out things about himself he wasn't ready to face yet, and the reason why he realized ironically lies between El and Will.

El brings Mike a sense of stability, of trust and reliability. At first, she makes him feel needed, but she also makes him feel safe.

As people, we tend to rely on what's safe. Most of anyone will safely not take the plunge, would rather be stuck on eternal revolving doors just so that they're safe.

It's a lot safer for a teenager to pretend.

To pretend that this is the life he chose, and he must commit to it. He compensates, and he deflects and projects because his mentality is all or nothing. He needs to like the girl, he needs to feel something for the girl because that's what everyone has been telling him.

And when he tells Will that is not his fault Will doesn't like girls it wasn't about Will. It's about projecting onto him everything he supposedly hates about himself.

And as El tells him he loves her and kisses her, he doesn't close his eyes and why wonders why is there this feeling of wrongness?

Because he doesn't want things to change. As he stares at that house, at the place full of memories, is not El he misses.

As he comes home and holds his mother, we get a full parallel to the first season. And I wanted to point out, that at both points he believes he lost Will.

In the first to death. In the second, to a different life.

And as he holds his mom, Mike almost seems... Numb. Like he shut down all high level functioning so he won't break down.

7. How Mike and El's relationship is structured

I would be saying this even if I wasn't a shipper, but it's clear that the writers themselves made a point of showing that whatever Mil*even has, isn't love.

When Mike lies to El about Hopper, it isn't to protect her feelings. It's to protect himself.

And when El lies to Mike, it isn't so he wouldn't worry, it's to put up a front. It's so she can pretend that she's normal and that she isn't a monster. She isn't a monster, but somehow he doesn't make her feel like he accepts her as well.

Now, let's compare this to Jancy. We know that Jonathan doesn't intend on telling Nancy about college because he knows she'd come with him and he doesn't want to hold her down. He wants her to be happy, above all else, even if it breaks his heart.

That is love.

Love is wanting the other person to be happy and accepting that they might not be happy with you.

Now, does that sound familiar? Well, it should.

Because it's exactly what Will does. He lies because he loves Mike and he doesn't think his words would matter, so like Cyrano de Bergerac, he treats what he says as words from El.

And I know some people would claim Will deserves better than Mike, but the thing is... While Mike made mistakes, we are shown that whenever Will is concerned, he apologizes for those. He admits he's wrong, he knows he shouldn't have done.

Mike acting like an ass sometimes doesn't suddenly erase every good thing he's ever done. And we don't love people who deserve it, that's not how it works. We don't choose who we love, love isn't a button you can turn on and off whenever it's convenient and only when the other person deserves it. Love is so much more complicated than that. Like, scholars have been trying to explain, quantify and apply rationality to it for ages, it hasn't worked so far for a reason.

[ddarker-dreams]

My Ship In (Not) Five Minutes — HWR Edition

Height difference:

canonically, i make no allusions to HWR reader's height, but my personal headcanon is that she's 5'6. so that'd be a slight height difference since chrollo is 5'10.

Age difference:

chrollo is older than HWR reader by two years. they both hardly act their age though. they'd fit right in at the local senior center. it's especially bad in HWR reader's case... she's extremely out of touch with pop culture and the lingo that comes with it.

First to confess:

chrollo, although his confession is weird and kinda convoluted. it isn't really romantic. it's more of him professing his fascination with HWR reader, saying that getting to know her better has helped him understand himself. which, to someone like chrollo, is essentially the most intimate connection in the making. this is the most genuine he can really get, HWR reader would've doubted him if he was confessing his undying love or whatever. he may have been able to sway her into believing him at first, but eventually, she'd see through it and call his bluff. so his weird confession worked out for the better. she values authenticity and he recognizes he has no choice but to break through his countless façades if he's to have a chance with her.

First to apologize after a fight:

they really... don't have fights? neither of them are the types to give into passionate outbursts of feeling, they both approach things in a calm and rational manner. it's more like a cold war when they disagree on something serious. when the iciness thaws out, they both prefer to kinda move on without outright acknowledging it. there'll be some small, thoughtful gestures on both their parts as a way of making amends. chrollo would be the first to apologize, but this would irritate HWR reader, since he'd be doing it for the sake of it. chrollo knows this and wisely keeps his mouth shut LMAO.

The more popular/charismatic:

chrollo 😔 he oozes charisma. he knows how to read people and get himself in their good graces. HWR reader... simply doesn't care to do that. she can hold a conversation well but doesn't really pay much mind to the other person's feelings. this is why at high society events she keeps her mouth shut as much as possible. chrollo's tact is otherworldly, she swears it's a sixth sense he's developed. he once claimed to be an empath. she faked a cough to cover her laugh.

The best caregiver when the other is sick:

probably HWR reader for the sole sake of her dedication?? she saw her mother degrade physically over the years and it left an impression on her. she knows that what looks small at first can rapidly develop and spiral out of control. she'd hover around chrollo, monitoring him like a hawk. would take his vitals every hour and log them dutifully. make an excel spreadsheet of them when he's asleep. fortunately, both their immune systems are pretty impenetrable due to their body body's unique constitution. there are some health complications relating to corruption, a side effect of the unique blood HWR reader has, but she keeps that under tight surveillance.

Does the cooking:

chrollo learned early on that HWR reader's cooking is... well-intentioned, if not inedible. she went most of her life without cooking, her meals were always made for her by her teacher's specifications. consequently, she looks at cooking as an experiment and wants to see what would happen if she put every spice in the spice cabinet in pasta or whatever. chrollo, being the excellent leader that he is, recognizes her enthusiasm and doesn't dare trample on it. he just redirects her energy elsewhere. he handles the stovetop and lets her do the prep work. the woman can cut fruits and veggies like a machine.

Does the housework:

oh boy. HWR reader 100%. she is a neat freak. chrollo pitches in and cleans up after himself, but HWR reader is the one who goes crazy deep cleaning the entire apartment once a week. she just likes things being nice and orderly. she gave him a cold stare when he didn't take his shoes off when walking into the apartment once. by estella's sisterly advice, HWR reader got rid of her black light when chrollo moved in. estella rightly guessed that this would be 'a touch on the excessive side, dearest.'

Does most of the speaking:

it's somewhat equal, but leaning more toward chrollo, especially in the beginning. he had to pry her out of her shell. she mostly gave short, very polite responses to his questions. he had to do some poking and prodding to figure out what conversations get the most out of her. fortunately for him, he's a fast learner. unfortunately for him, HWR reader (correctly) assumed he wanted something and would've preferred he just come out with it. this mild ire couldn't last long, he's too pleasant a conversationalist. he makes it look like an art.

nowadays, they both speak the same amount. they'll either be silent for hours while going about their own business, or staying up until 3 am debating if albert calmus' the plague was literal or metaphorical. big nerds.

The overprotective one:

hmmmmm chrollo wins this one by a few points. they're both confident in each other's abilities to take care of themselves. honestly, they both kinda like watching one another fight. they think it's hot to watch their partner absolutely decimate another human being. that being said, chrollo tends to pick up on things far more than HWR reader when it comes to social interactions. someone could give her their phone number and she'd just think to herself, 'oh, that's strange.' chrollo recognizes this quality of hers and while he finds it endearing, he's a deeply possessive man. such is the nature of a thief. he'll give the most chilling expressions to anyone eyeing or talking her up. it's one of the few times he allows his bloodlust to seep out. naturally, HWR reader notices this and goes ??? at him, but he just smiles and waves it off.

Designated driver:

chrollo. it's a weird man thing. the first time they ever walked to a car together, he just went straight for the driver's seat without thinking about it. she doesn't have a preference either way. much to chrollo's surprise, HWR reader actually favors motorcycles. she reasons that they get her places faster. chrollo thought this was a quaint platitude until he rode with her on one once. she almost broke the speedometer.

Has good penmanship:

they both have good handwriting, but chrollo's is slightly better. HWR reader writes faster and in cursive. chrollo writes in cursive as well, but he takes his time with it, writing almost like a calligrapher. he can falsify other's handwriting and signatures perfectly too. he also prefers classic stationary, the man unironically writes with an ink and quill. good god. HWR reader is kind of a snob as well. she prefers fountain pens and looks down upon ballpoint pens.

Has more experience with relationships:

neither of them have been in a serious committed relationship before, but chrollo still has more experience. he's done his fair share of schmoozing to intrude circles he intended to rob blind. HWR reader had a girlfriend for a time (karina), an experience that was more like a wild rollercoaster ride than anything else. so this is all very new to her. she doesn't have a solid point of reference.

Sensitive to subtle changes in partner:

chrollo by far. HWR reader finds it mildly disconcerting how well this man can read her. he knows her body language, tone of voice, even the normal state of her aura. he can tell when something's bothering her before she even realizes it. he has enough knowledge to write a dissertation on her honestly.

The one who proposes:

chrollo, in more of a musing, since he asks her all sorts of curious questions. it'd be something like, 'would you ever consider marrying me?' and she'd just go silent for a few seconds... then say yes, she would. neither of them place much importance on the institution of marriage, it just seems kinda nice. they could equally do with or without it.

The one who dies protecting the other:

they'd both die for one another without hesitation, but in all likelihood, it'd be HWR reader :(( it suits her narratively. however, i could never bring myself to write it . they need to be alive and menaces to society together.

Handling conflict:

they're both so stubborn and opinionated without realizing it 😭 surprisingly, this doesn't lead to much tension since it takes a lot to seriously rile them up, but when conflict does arise... it's so icy between them. there's no yelling or gesticulating, just Stares and some dry words. chrollo can occasionally come off as very condescending and she would not take sit there and take it. cursed vibes in the apartment. enough to make plants wilt. this happens infrequently, though.

Relationship attitude:

complete dedication. neither of them is interested in anything casual. HWR reader is viciously loyal to the few people she cares about and chrollo's something of a hopeless romantic. in the beginning, they were both feeling things out, mostly curious to see where it'd go. as they learned more about each other and themselves as a result, their attachment grows to the point they're inseparable. they feel like they complete one another, in a way. they have enough in common and enough that sets them apart to never be bored.

Showing affection:

this does not come easy to HWR reader. she improves with time, but at first, she isn't sure how to express her feelings. the are some urges on her part but she isn't certain if it's proper to act on them. chrollo can tell she's holding herself back, and although he might tease her on the occasion, he's good at gently encouraging her to do as she pleases. chrollo loves classic displays of romance. bouquets of roses, handwritten notes, gourmet chocolates, the works. she likes it more than she cares to admit. he's the most outwardly physically affectionate between the two, often putting a hand on her thigh, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, kissing her hand... he treats HWR reader well. she secretly really likes holding hands but is too shy to admit it. chrollo 100% notices this and reaches for her hand to spare her the embarrassment.

Dealing with jealousy:

HWR reader rarely gets jealous whereas chrollo is slightly more inclined to do so. it's not so much that he doesn't trust HWR reader, but that he's deeply possessive and doesn't appreciate people encroaching on his woman. like he worked hard for this. go away. they're both attractive people, so they inevitably earn attention, yet there's just no competition to be had. how do you one up chrollo lucilfer or miss avalor. you just can't. if someone is shooting their shot with HWR reader, chrollo slides on in, wearing the fakest smile, pulling her close to him by her waist. he radiates this Energy that silently communicates the interloper should scamper off if they know what's best for them.

Attachment:

they're very attached without having to come outright and say it. they travel together, cook meals together (with chrollo supervising so no one gets food poisoning), hell, they'll even grocery shop together. they just like being in each other's orbit. it's nice. one would think they'd get tired of each other, but since they're both introverts, they naturally go into their own headspace if they ever need time to themselves. some days they'll quietly coexist and on others they won't shut up about determinism or whatever.

[nsfwhiphop]

Official Communication - Letter: Subject: Clarification of Roles: Distinction Between Godmothers and Goddaughters in the Somali Royal Family

Official Communication from Crown Prince Angelo Subject: Clarification of Relationships Between Goddaughters and Their Godmothers

Here’s the list of Instagram profiles for the Goddaughters:

Justine Skye: @justineskye

Cuban Link (Jamira Haines): @_cuban_link

Jessica Marquez: @iamjessmarquez

Christina Santini: @santinihoudini

Here’s the list of profiles for the Godmothers:

Zoe Saldana: @zoesaldana

Charlize Theron: @charlizeafrica

Eva Mendes: @evamendes

Beyoncé: @beyonce

Sofia Vergara: @sofiavergara

Salma Hayek: @salmahayek

Delphine Arnault: Delphine Arnault - Wikipedia - (click on the blue link)

Dear Respected Godmothers and Future Wives,

I hope this message finds you well. I am writing to provide clarity on the relationships that I, as Crown Prince Angelo, have structured between my future wives—your Goddaughters—and you, their esteemed Godmothers. This is a nuanced topic, and I wish to ensure there is no ambiguity in understanding these roles. Allow me to explain this distinction in detail, step by step, as though guiding students through a complex subject.

1. The Core Distinction Between Godmothers and Goddaughters

Godmothers: Your role is advisory and supportive. As Godmothers, you are cherished guides and mentors to your respective Goddaughters.

Goddaughters: These are the women I will marry. My future wives—my Goddaughters—are my chosen partners in life and the mothers of my future children.

Simply put, while Godmothers hold a position of respect and influence, my marital relationships and the continuation of my lineage rest solely with the Goddaughters.

2. The Relationships and Assignments

To provide further clarity, here is a breakdown of the Godmother-Goddaughter pairs:

Justine Skye: Her Godmothers are Zoe Saldana and Charlize Theron.

Cuban Link: Her Godmothers are Eva Mendes and Beyoncé.

Jessica Marquez: Her Godmother is Sofia Vergara.

Christina Santini: Her Godmothers are Salma Hayek and Delphine Arnault.

Each Godmother is entrusted with the guidance and mentorship of her Goddaughter, fostering a supportive and harmonious relationship.

3. Marriage and Parenthood

To eliminate any potential misunderstandings:

I will marry the Goddaughters, not the Godmothers.

I will have children with the Goddaughters, not the Godmothers.

This distinction is vital for maintaining the integrity of these relationships.

4. The Benefits to Godmothers

By structuring relationships in this way, life becomes simpler and more fulfilling for the Godmothers:

Ease of Access to Power: You will maintain influence and a close connection to the Royal Family through your Goddaughters, without bearing the direct responsibilities of marriage to a monarch.

Positive Relations: Your bond with your Goddaughter ensures that you remain an integral part of our shared mission, enjoying mutual respect and collaboration.

5. The Role of Godmothers in the Broader Vision

Your role as Godmothers is invaluable. You serve as confidantes, role models, and advisors to your Goddaughters, shaping their journey as future leaders and royal consorts. Your wisdom and guidance will ensure the success of the Somali Royal Family and the harmony of our collective mission.

6. Conclusion

In conclusion, I want to reiterate that while I deeply value the roles of the Godmothers, my marriages will be solely with the Goddaughters. This clear delineation ensures mutual respect and allows all of us to work towards our shared goals with clarity and purpose.

Thank you for your understanding and continued dedication to this vision. Should you have any questions or require further clarification, please do not hesitate to reach out to Salma Hayek and Nadia Fettah.

Warm regards, Angelo Crown Prince and Future Sultan Somali Royal Family

P.S.:

Synopsis of the Letter:

Crown Prince Angelo provides a detailed explanation of the distinct roles between the Godmothers and their respective Goddaughters within his royal structure. He emphasizes that while Godmothers serve as mentors and advisors to their Goddaughters, he will only marry the Goddaughters, who will also bear his children. This distinction ensures that Godmothers maintain influence and positive relationships with their Goddaughters without the responsibilities of marriage.

The letter clarifies the following relationships:

Justine Skye's Godmothers are Zoe Saldana and Charlize Theron.

Cuban Link's Godmothers are Eva Mendes and Beyoncé.

Jessica Marquez's Godmother is Sofia Vergara.

Christina Santini's Godmothers are Salma Hayek and Delphine Arnault.

By defining these roles, Crown Prince Angelo fosters harmony, ensuring the success of the Somali Royal Family’s vision while simplifying life for the Godmothers through their supportive relationships with the Goddaughters.

[mooechi]

a gift?

spring. the season she bought something just for her.

on the day following her return from a mission, riri discovers eva in a state of solitude beneath a blossoming sakura tree.

however, the winter pillar seems to have been searching for the glacier pillar. why is that?

an akari fuyutsuki x eva himeko oneshot.

// eva himeko rightfully belongs to my beloved, @muitsuri!

spring, when the world bursts forth with life.

spring, where a symphony of delicate miracles unfolds.

spring, a season when verdant tendrils awaken from their slumber, where the gentle touch of the sun's caress breathes vitality into every corner of the earth.

amidst this exquisite tapestry of rejuvenation, beneath the boughs of a resplendent sakura tree, a lovely lady found herself caught in a momentary enchantment.

her graceful figure, adorned in hues of soft pastels, became the focal point of a whimsical dance. with closed eyes, her lashes fluttered like the wings of dainty butterflies, lending an air of ethereal serenity to her gorgeous countenance.

the fragrance of blooming flowers enveloped her, infusing the air with a sweet intoxication that stirred her senses.

the sakura petals swirled around her with a grace befitting a ballet, encircling her form in a delicate waltz. each petal, kissed by the gentle breeze, pirouetted and twirled in harmonious synchrony, their ephemeral beauty mirroring the ephemeral nature of this captivating season.

the cherry tree stood tall and proud, its branches reaching towards the heavens as if yearning to touch the cerulean canvas above. and beneath its protective canopy, the glacier hashira found peace, a sanctuary where her thoughts could wander amidst the petals' tender embrace.

her delicate lids fluttered open, anticipation filling her being.

yet, instead of being greeted by the expected rosy vista, her irises were met with a mesmerizing azure expanse that halted her tranquility in its tracks.

the chestnut-tressed maiden could practically hear her heart cease its rhythmic dance, only to resume with a frantic tempo as she realized that those majestic blue irises belonged to none other than the winter pillar. the hashira, with a mere tilt of her head, seemed unperturbed by their proximity, as if she had initiated this encounter herself—which was most likely.

silence enveloped the pair, stretching into an eternity, as they locked gazes, delving deep into the depths of each other's souls. the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air, a testament to the profound connection that existed between them. and then, like a soothing melody, a familiar voice, flat yet mellow, graced the ears of the flustered maiden.

"and here I thought you wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.”

as the pillar’s words lingered in the air, akari finally leaned back, causing a tumultuous storm of emotions to surge within the latter’s heart—a mix of both fortune and dismay.

though the azure-eyed maiden's words may have carried a hint of sarcasm, eva understood that they held a genuine sentiment, devoid of mockery, but rather a straightforward observation.

"i wasn’t actually asleep, you know..."

the glacier pillar felt a surge of gratitude as her words flowed forth without a single stutter. however, her tone remained meek, leaving her uncertain if they were even heard, or if they simply dissolved into the ether.

naturally, the latter heard her—akari unconsciously exerted more effort whenever it involved eva, after all.

however, to her surprise, akari; though renowned for her analytical disposition, found herself unexpectedly taken aback, her eyebrows arching being the sole giveaway to her genuine astonishment.

"you weren't?"

a hint of perplexity laced the winter pillar’s voice as she raised a hand to her chin, her head tilting slightly as she hummed in thoughtful contemplation. "strange. everything about you seemed to suggest otherwise, but i suppose i was mistaken."

“eh?"

eva, in turn, tilted her head slightly, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. did it have something to do with her appearance? had something changed? or perhaps it was due to the winter pillar’s unique perception of auras? so many questions stirred within her, yet remained unspoken—

"if you appeared so serene with only your eyes closed," akari continued, her words laced with a touch of intrigue. "i can only imagine how much more captivating it would be when you are truly asleep."

oh…

was that meant to be a compliment? the heat of embarrassment crept up eva’s pretty face, coloring it with a rosy hue.

normally, she would be quite talkative around the winter pillar, but in this moment, she found herself rendered speechless. her mouth parted slightly, but the words she longed to utter seemed to elude her, trapped in the depths of her being.

as the hashira settled into a more relaxed position, abandoning her previous crouch in front of eva, the glacier pillar struggled to regain her composure. the contrast between her disheveled state and the seemingly unfazed composure of the lady before her was evidently striking.

yet, as if fate had finally decided to show her mercy, eva’s eyes caught a glimmer of light reflecting off what appeared to be a snowflake-shaped object in the winter pilar’s free hand. upon closer examination, it became clear that it was a hairpin.

an idea sparked in the sable-head’s mind, causing her to perk up. "how beautiful! do you need help with that? i can assist you in putting it in your hair—“

"what? no."

the cobalt-head’s sudden interruption caused the radiant smile on eva’s face to freeze. a wave of uncertainty washed over her, as if she had committed a grave mistake. akari’s deadpan expression translated into a look of incredulity through eva’s eyes, igniting a spark of panic within her.

"sorry, that must’ve been weird of me to ask..”

"what?..no it isn’t. i only declined because this hairpin isn't for me."

the glacier pillar paused, finding herself confused for the second time within such a short span. if not for herself, then for whom?

was akari planning to give it to someone else?

the thought sent a pang of pain through eva’s heart, and her feeble attempts to conceal her expression of sorrow proved to be futile.

yet, in the fleeting instant that ensued, akari’s next words swiftly dissipated all of her concerns, replacing them with a comforting sensation that enveloped her like a cozy embrace, leaving her head swirling with warmth and delight.

"i saw this earlier and...” lost in wonder, she absentmindedly, yet carefully toyed with the object, her voice trailing off. extending it towards the bewildered maiden in front of her, she resumed, "it’s for you. i saw it earlier, and thought of you."

in response, eva’s stunning eyes widened. "m-me?" she stammered, a mix of disbelief and bashfulness evident in her voice, along with a profound sense of gratitude.

trembling slightly, eva reached out, her fingertips gently brushing against the hairpin, treating it as if it were an exquisitely delicate treasure. "this is for...me?" she repeated, as if struggling to grasp the reality of the situation.

akari simply nodded. in contrast, her features still withheld any hint of her internal musings. "yes, for you."

"just for you."

at the lack of typically verbal responses, her head tilted slightly as she arched a brow, "is it not to your liking?—“

"that’s not it!!"

the glacier pillar swiftly interjected, shaking her head vigorously, causing the winter pillar to worry that she might become dizzy.

“huh?..”

“the contrary, actually..” releasing a heartfelt sigh, eva shifted her gaze, tenderly looking at the gift she had just received, a loving smile gracing her lips. "i like it, a lot.” she confessed.

she turned her gaze back to akari, her smile softening even further. "i love it, actually.” she whispered.

her eyes fluttered shut, forming a closed-eyed smile that gradually transformed into a cheerful grin as her head swayed slightly to the right, reminiscent of a joyful dance.

as the diaphanous breeze danced through the air, its celestial touch gracefully tousled eva’s lustrous locks as the sun joined in this symphony of beauty, casting its golden rays upon her countenance, illuminating her features with a resplendent radiance. her smile, a beacon of joy, radiated a warmth that had akari mesmerized, rendering her unable to divert her gaze from the majestic sight before her.

"you really are pretty.”

in response, a rosy blush bloomed across eva’s cheeks, the flush of warmth coloring her delicate visage.

she lowered her gaze, her fingers tenderly tracing the contours of the precious object she held—a reflection of the tender emotions that stirred within her. the subtle intensity of her feelings ignited a longing within her soul, a yearning for more moments such as these.

a gentle sigh escaped the hashira’s lips, a melody of mingled pleasure and vulnerability. "you.." she murmured, her words laced with a hint of playful defiance, "you should really stop with those out-of-nowhere compliments." she pouted, her eyes gracefully closing as she sought refuge in the solace of darkness, a brief respite to regain her composure. though she cherished the accolades bestowed upon her, a lingering fear whispered in her thoughts, warning of the perilous bewitch of such sweet words.

it just might be the cause of her death someday. the extravagancy of the thought nagged at the glacier pillar’s mind, causing her to let out a modest chuckle that merely fueled the winter pillar’s confusion.

wasn’t she simply stating the truth? that was the only fact reverberating in akari’s mind as she attentively absorbed eva’s words. however, the winter pillar quickly brushed aside her perplexity as her ears were blessed with the sound of the glacier pillar's laughter.

how melodic it was...

as eva’s honeyed giggles continued to reverberate in the depths of akari’s mind, the heavenly maiden within her imagination had already fixated the exquisite ornament to her hair.

however, just as she was about to delicately secure the hairpin in place, a familiar gloved hand benignly interposed, halting her graceful movement.

with utmost grace, akari relinquished the delicate treasure from her grasp and gracefully descended onto her knees, a dancer's poise enshrining her every motion. she meticulously shuffled closer to eva, her eyes gleaming with an unspoken intention, as if she were an artist composing a masterpiece.

slowly, yet deliberately, akari positioned the hairpin on the right side of eva’s lustrous tresses, forsaking the left with a careful precision. every movement was executed with a refined elegance, as if she were an artisan sculpting an ephemeral masterpiece.

"that’s better…" she murmured, her voice a gentle caress, her breath mingling with the air as she tenderly brushed a stray strand away from eva’s enchanting visage.

as the lovestruck maiden’s irises quivered with an indescribable feeling, her heart pounded with the intensity of a symphony, as if it were an instrument played by the divine.

her lips, delicately pursed, mirrored the graceful curvature of akari’s own, forming a sublime duet of emotion and desire.

the winter pillar’s smile, faint yet resplendent, held an air of perfection in eva’s eyes—a fleeting moment of flawlessness that seemed to transcend the boundaries of mortal existence.

"i would prefer if this hairpin didn’t get in the way of that streak of your hair." akari uttered, her words an enchanting incantation that held both longing and reverence. the subtle plea in her voice carried an unspoken desire to preserve the natural beauty that adorned eva’s being, to honor the ethereal essence that danced with every strand.

in that sublime instant, bathed in the sun's golden rays that transformed the sakuranbo into a canvas of warmth and luminosity, they found themselves enveloped in an otherworldly realm.

there, the boundaries between dreams and reality blurred, and a humble object possessed the extraordinary ability to ignite a love that surpassed the confines of time and space.

—spring, where and when i fell even more for you.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Say, recall that alt butterfly we discussed, IE how the Peacock & Sentimonsters are too akin to Akuma so why not smoosh them together ETC.

So in that idea, Familiars were a thing the Butterfly could make in place of or alongside certain Akuma. That were connected to the Akumatized Item & fed off their makers emotions & energy passively for months until they "Manifest" IE become real creatures as Feast did. Familiars replaced as the source of the Akuma-Kids via Emilie not realizing forcing a Familiar to manifest right away takes a huge chunk of the givers vitality.

With that context re-established, what sort of Familiars do you think characters would get?

I ask as they tend to operate a bit like Akuma in that the Butterfly user can't just whip up whatever he wants, only at best influence the resulting creature. Hence why Fu's Familiar was driven solely by his starvation trauma & eats uncontrollably.

Gabriel's is basically a copy of Emilie's former Familiar, IE a big butterfly that exists to shield, evacuate & when all else fails defend the family with a piercing strike. (Hilariously this means it may not hurt Adrien, ever)

Nathalie's was basically her bending and stretching every rule and the resulting Familiar's creation nearly killing her as a result. IE forcing the Butterfly cosplay as the Creation Miraculous is a bad idea. So she's an outlier, but what do you think others might be?

Some ideas I have would be like:

Reflekta's Familiar is "Hype", that sort of lets her enhance and project herself and her powers over a greater radius in reflection of wanting to be heard and boosted up. It may look like Rose or be a sort of weird combo of camera, mirror & microphone.

Low key could actually see Lollipop Boy's being exactly the same XD

Andre's Familiar I could see being a spin on Mega Leech with Life Leech, basically it latches onto a target and drains them to empower him.

Jagged's Stone's could be a creative spin on Familiar Creation by essentially Akumatizing Fang alongside him. Could fit well with your, "Jagged Stone has magic" stuff to, as he can use aspects of Akumatization in ways others can't.

I keep trying to imagine Marinette's and basically just et a sword wielding hamster from Redwall XD

love the idea of a sword-wielding hamster lmao!

On one hand using that to warp Fang could be nice, but on the other hand I got the image of both 'Fang becomes Dragon because he's already a Familiar' and then Jagged gets another one on top and Fang has beef with it.

[lilithslittleworld]

hello darling! please please please can you write something fluffy for jeanine matthews? i love her so much and it would mean a lot to me :) have a lovely day!!

The Exception

A/N: Hello! I tried my hardest to write this, Jeanine doesn’t really come naturally to me. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it!:)

Summary: Even after years of knowing each other, Jeanine still holds a soft spot for her favorite Erudite, even if (dun dun dunnnn) you weren’t born into her faction. (Jeanine Matthews x Gender Neutral Reader)

Switching into Erudite at 16 from another faction was far from a simple process. Not only had you left your family and friends behind, but you’d also said goodbye to your way of life. However, your thirst for knowledge had weighed over the rest, marking your first true calculated decision. Nothing stood in your way the day you watched your blood spill into the crystal clear water-filled bowl. Adjusting to your new life, though, became a much more challenging experience. Your days were longer, lonelier, with your workload only ever increasing. The coldness of your other fellow faction members became palpable and your days in the labs served as daily reminders of your inexistent social life. Except for one thing.

Late one night, during your first few weeks after the Choosing Ceremony, you were continuing your research on the neurological impacts of a new drug that one of your superiors was developing. Those were the moments where you needed human interaction and contact the most, when suddenly, the most improbable of things happened. Out of the corner of your eye, you recognized the silhouette of one of your faction members, Jeanine. Her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders as she stood in doorframe, observing you.

“I’m not a firm believer in putting nearly as many late nights as you have,” she said, her voice strong but friendly. “You’re quite new to Erudite, aren’t you?”

You nodded, wondering if it was really that obvious.

Jeanine laughed. “That must make this much lonelier than for the rest of us,” she noted, slowly approaching your desk.

“It hasn’t been the simplest,” you admitted sheepishly, wanting so desperately to come across as solely logical.

“Well, the human being does need companionship. It’s vital for our survival,” she answered gently, so close to your work that you were sure she could read it.

“You’re Jeanine, aren’t you?” you asked, knowing quite well that everyone, Erudite born or not, knew her by name. Jeanine was the ideal example of what it meant to be in and from Erudite. She had been born into the faction, dedicated all of her time and resources to it, and had chosen it again in the Choosing Ceremony. She was diligent, assertive, guided by logic, and persistent, obtaining most of the results she sought. Greatest of all, she welcomed and nurtured knowledge, making it fairly easy to connect with her.

“I’m sure a smart person like yourself already knew that, though,” she smiled, extending her hand towards you, “And you are?”

“I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N,” you answered swiftly, “I transferred from *(insert faction of choice)*”

“And what made you choose Erudite, if I may ask?”

Discussing old factions wasn’t something that was usually allowed but Jeanine’s curiosity seemed genuine and the lab was empty. “I think I’ve always known I wasn’t made for that faction. I was too curious, too driven by the pursuit of knowledge to fit in. I’m glad that one of my strengths is greatly recognized and appreciated in Erudite,” you answered truthfully, taking into account the warmth that has spread across your face as you admitted it.

“It sounds like you made a very well calculated decision indeed,” she agreed, smiling at you softly, “It sounds like we’ll have a lot in common, Y/N.”

————————————————————————

Your years of youth went by but as they did, your friendship with Jeanine strengthened. Thanks to her, you had been offered countless research positions, had begun to fit in better with your peers, and had internalized your Erudite identity more deeply. Jeanine became an integral part of your day-to-day life, spending almost all of your time together.

Jeanine’s power, however, began to soar, her ideas becoming more radical by the minute. Your paths didn’t cross as frequently during these years and you found yourself resenting her. You didn’t like the person she was becoming or the new ideas she was preaching, they were dangerous and unlike her. It also hurt you deeply that she had replaced you with the newfound power and social status she gained, you were no longer her equal but her subordinate, like many other Erudites. The girl with long golden hair had been replaced by a cold, authoritarian stranger (who only wore her hair up.)

The word of overthrowing Abnegation reached you from one of your fellow researchers, who thankfully, opposed the whole idea of it. Your stomach dropped as you found out what Jeanine had been planning these past years, the explanation to her new persona who caused you so much discomfort. How could she do this? Erudite wasn’t about hierarchy or violence, it was a place for fostering research, knowledge, and rationality. It became clear how dangerous power was when mixed with all of these factors, realizing that what Jeanine lacked most was compassion and humanity, something that couldn’t be grown in a lab. You knew you would never obey whatever rules she forced the faction to go through but you also knew that saying no wasn’t an option. You would have to escape. But how? And to where?

One Friday night, a few weeks before Jeanine’s planned attack, you stood outside of her office door. It was no longer useful to go to her place to find her, as she seemed to live in her office and its quarters. It had been many months since you had been there, it felt eerie to be back in a place you once loved so much. You knocked on the door, taking a deep breath as you heard Jeanine’s voice telling you to go in.

“It’s a Friday night, whatever questions that aren’t explicitly necessary at the moment must wait until Mon- Y/N?” Jeanine realized it was you standing before her and not one of her students.

“Hello, Jeanine,” you answered politely, making sure to hold your already packed bag behind your back. You didn’t want her catching onto your plan but you knew you couldn’t leave without saying goodbye, even if it wasn’t a direct goodbye.

“What can I do for you?” she asked carefully, eyeing you up and down as she did.

“I just felt I’ve never thanked you for landing me all of the research positions I’ve been offered,” you answered truthfully, watching as her eyes softened at your words. “I know things aren’t as they were but I owe you quite a lot.”

Jeanine smiled slightly, standing up over her desk as she did. “You showed promise in your work and in this faction, Y/N. Everything you are and everything you have today is because of your merit, there is no need to thank me.”

“I didn’t work for our friendship though,” you replied softly, staring at your shoes for a few seconds before looking back up at Jeanine.

“Well, that came naturally,” she answered simply, “For that I must thank you too but also apologize. My work is everything to me and I must live up to the expectations of the faction as well as my own but I do miss our times together.”

You nodded, fully expecting her answer. “I understand, in many ways I always knew this is the Jeanine you’d grow into but I cannot stand by and watch you destroy so much,” you sighed, turning towards the door. The conversation had lost the little comfort it had minutes ago and you had no intention of getting angry at Jeanine, at least not to her face.

“Where are you going, Y/N?” She asked, before catching a slight glance at the bag in your hand. “You’re not leaving the faction, are you?” She gasped.

“I have to,” you answered firmly, her little display of human emotions wouldn’t sway you in the opposite direction.

“You could be killed!” She exclaimed. She took two long strides towards you, grabbing your arms as she spoke, “Y/N you’ll be factionless, that’s worse than death. You cannot simply leave your faction behind, there are rules set in place. This is a breach of said rules! Faction before blood.”

“Then help me, Jeanine. I cannot stand by and watch you destroy our faction and every other one at that!” You were shouting now, unable to understand what she was feeling, what she was thinking. Why hadn’t she alerted anyone yet?

“I can’t,” she whispered softly, “I cannot turn my back on my faction. But I also cannot let you die or be killed, Y/N.”

“If you don’t notify anyone about my departure or disappearance, you would already be doing me a favor,” you said softly.

Jeanine shook her head, “I cannot go against the rules, the ones I preach to live by. If we begin to break them, chaos will emerge and plague our society. It is the only thing keeping us in place, keeping us alive.”

You didn’t say anything, not daring to add more tension to the conversation. Your odds were 50/50: or she’d find the will to let you slip away or she’d have you arrested. “I’m not asking for your permission, just for your discretion. That’s not breaking any rules,” you reasoned.

Jeanine walked back to her desk silently, putting her face in her hands as she sat down. “You can never say a word to anyone about this,” she began slowly, “not even to your new faction members or wherever you go. I will make an exception just this once because it’s you. If we were to cross paths again in a situation like this one, I will not be as lenient.”

“I understand.”

“Go, Y/N,” she whispered, gesturing towards the door and you listened.

“Wait,” she called out, just as you were about to shut the door behind you. “Let me know you’re okay and alive at some point in time, however you’d like but let me know. Good luck, Y/N.”

You turned around, nodding your head and smiling slightly at the woman who had just saved your life.

“I’ll never forget you, Jeanine.”

[pangolin-404]

edgar essay

AKA I gathered up a couple long-winded discord rants and made them pretty for your reading pleasure

Edgar is very interesting to me. He's nothing but honest and heartfelt but that doesn't mean he's 100% nice. If he gets mad he shows it, he warns before he retaliates, he assumes he is doing good and is open about a desire for company (at first solely from Madeline but just before this breakdown scene, he repeatedly tries to initiate time with Miles, saying he's made dinner in the microwave, wanting to play pong with him, etc.). and just as deeply as he can show care he can lash out, using what he's connected to to his advantage to harm and send a message. It's also to defend himself; Miles is the one who starts the altercation by first getting Edgar to calm down (via talking about Madeline) before grabbing and ripping him off his base, after Edgar explicitly told him not to ever touch/beat him. Edgar establishes his boundaries very clearly and very understandably flies into a self-preserving rage when his life is threatened.

Edgar craves information and asks about it in any way he can. I think the scene of him with the radio-woman is very underrated—he does seek out people other than Miles (I could talk for a long time about Miles and his treatment of Edgar but this is isn’t about him), but these interactions are stunted by the same social behavior and knowledge that he repeatedly tries to learn from. He almost doesn’t seem to realize how odd his very existence is—does he not know he is unique, unheard of? He openly explains aspects of himself to others, very aware of what he lacks (limbs, lips,), and how these truths conflict with his wants (to kiss, touch Madeline).

Another minor, related, thing, is the lights; during the argument with Miles, the lights flare and only dim off once Edgar's calmed down. I'd almost call Edgar's use of lights body language. They burn when he's pissed off and turn back off when he thinks it's over. He uses the lights to get attention or draw it elsewhere.

That being said, Edgar makes it clear at the end that his sense of self, what he directly refers to first-person as "Me" is just the monitor itself. The keyboard is also a part of him, AKA off-limits to being touched by Miles, while open to dance and sing with Madeline. While everything he is connected to (printer, locks, adaptors to various home appliances) are not quite considered his Main Body; limbs maybe, he controls them, uses them where needed, and these are non-vital parts of him that Miles may touch and use. But his consciousness is definitely just In The Monitor.

There’s not enough said about how he expresses himself with his screen. It’s easy to forget with his emoticons but he can’t see, and relies on audio and his physical add-ons to process the world around him. He chooses to project synesthesia illustrations of music/sound, and chooses to put on a face, an eye, a singular blinking [I] awaiting input he typically rejects. He has a strong enough sense of self to swiftly visualize song and his own thoughts and way of thinking, toying with words in a mock-up of 3D space, and dreams of himself (presumably) in a complex world built upon what he knows, the brick, earthquakes, because he started as a helpful architecture tool.

and he has his moment with Madeline and y’know I think I've hit my snag with this little analysis. Because before the fight, Edgar was furious, dead set on meeting Madeline and telling her the truth about the music. HOWEVER, once Madeline actually has a one-on-one with him, he says nothing (though later proves he is capable of speech even semi-dismantled), he says nothing and just plays music with her. He confesses, whole I-Love-You etc, she cries. As hysterical as it is to say, every time he gets a liquid on him he has a random change of heart. First champagne making him sentient(?)/priming him for music-hearing. And now this, suddenly scheming out his grand final plan and conclusion of what love is

He describes it as give-and-take and now I'm trying to fit that into his moment with Madeline; that in itself is him giving her her cello back, closure at least, for a moment. But what is taken? Himself I guess, using himself as a vessel so she may relive her cello, not him as an individual (though she clearly forms deep lasting bonds with objects, Edgar now among these ranks). I do not understand when his mindset changes or when he comes to his conclusion. I can't quite word what problem Miles has with Edgar but maybe Edgar has internalized it, I'm not sure yet. he shows multiple times he doesn't understand social norms but WANTS TO LEARN

(hold on I just had an epiphany)

The first time Miles cries, Edgar asks, well what is that, what does that mean, and Miles tells him it means there's change coming; then later Madeline cries, Edgar may register that as "there is something about to change." Maybe he sees that in himself, and that is the moment he has decided he's done all he intends to do, and he's done with life?

Barely a stretch to say he loves Miles, in a way. He "gives Madeline to [him]", a gift in some odd amatonormative way, a tidy little show of his definition of love. He places their happiness over his own life, despite their happiness making him happy (he sings for them, he planned in advance, I believe) concluding he's made his mark, goodbye world, etc etc. He openly questions what him + Miles may be, as a partnership in the same string of thought as him and Madeline being love, and he explores what he and Miles and Madeline might be; but then again it's not like he's been socialized beyond Miles and Madeline.

I’m still not normal about his final speech, "a game for just two people only," this movie is absolutely a product of its time, some casual sexism/misogyny at some points (Edgar claims to know Madeline is a she based on her footsteps and how she holds things/moves), it shouldn't be surprising it assumes monogamy is an expected, unchanging norm, but I am screaming internally just going Edgar you clown you’re actively putting on a honking nose and bright red wig you clown you jester so much of this movie's conflict would evaporate if Edgar latched onto the "Madeline + Me + Moles = ?" line and had a eureka moment where he personally rediscovered the concept of polyamory and Miles started respecting Edgar as a person and not a tool

In conclusion:

[marketfreshfics]

The Stratagem Strain - Part II

Plot summary: Arriving at Hogwarts for an advanced graduate program on the direct appointment of the Minister for Magic himself, Paisley Gallos anticipates a successful sixth year of classes. Unbeknownst to her, she is a pawn in a sinister ploy orchestrated long before the start of the school year.

Tags: violence | angst | blood | vampires | tragedy | forced proximity | regret | denial of feelings | NDEs | eventual smut | dark magic | accidental death | read on AO3

Save for the impromptu flying literature fiasco near the Charms classroom, involving one Hector Kibbings, one Lyle Dean and about twenty library books, Paisley’s fourth day of classes thus far was entirely, thankfully, ordinary. 

The castle exuded a snug dimness, its atmosphere coloured by the dreariness of the weather, a mood that seeped into the professors and their lessons despite the fresh start of term. Even Professor Hecat, for all her unorthodox vitality when teaching, insisted they spend the morning class penning refresher notes on hex deflection. Oblivious to respite, with her quill enchanted to carbon-copy the lecture, Paisley read up on her assignment for Transfiguration.

She immediately recognized the start of a routine, the familiar weight of academic expectation settling lofty and buoyant on her shoulders, much like her father’s treasured old raincoat. Lost in thought, Paisley absentmindedly traced the intricate patterns etched into her desk with her fingertips, scrawls and quill carvings from generations prior, as her mind drifted back to the past few days' events. There was a strange anticipation of it all: graduating early had never been a prospect on her radar, but the mere idea of the head start on life gave her goosebumps. 

But that was a long-term anticipation, a gentle flutter in her chest. Short-term, what she looked forward to most, aside from her trip to Hogsmeade after classes, was Astronomy. Not solely because it held her interest more than most of her studies, but because she could rely on captivating conversation with her tall, soft-spoken classmate.

“Hello Amit,” she greeted her first Hogwarts friend with a radiant grin. “Did you finish reading about the Olbers’ paradox?”

The young wizard practically beamed, pleating the corners of his dark eyes. “It was thrilling! I’d never considered such a theory, but it holds merit. Even if the universe constantly expands, it would explain why interstellar space still exists.” Warm hands withdrew the bound copy of Heinrich Wilhelm Olbers’ thesis from his foldover satchel, returning it to her; Paisley’s smile expressed fondness when she noticed the pages were still pristine, free of folds or creases, the spine still intact--a clear sign of his respect for such precious belongings.

Paisley thanked him, tucking away the text as she spoke. “It’s funny you mention that; I have a copy of Kepler’s considerations of this theory, which predate Olbers by a couple of centuries. If you enjoyed his theory of planetary motion, you’re bound to find this one fascinating.”

“Really?” Amit was just as starved for in-depth discussion, with the way he turned his whole body towards her as if to plant himself directly into their conversation. “Did you know he was a student of Brahe? Known for—“

“The Tychonic System,” Paisley finished his sentence, a modest, albeit proud tint to her cheeks. “Sorry… incredible, isn’t it? And when you consider Copernicus, we can keep going back—“

“Mister Thakkar, a moment? I require some assistance!” Professor Shah's interruption shattered their exchange, drawing their attention to the professor crouched over a domed gadget, reminiscent of a large, upside-down colander, attempting (unsuccessfully) to connect it to a prehistoric-looking telescope. 

Amit gave Paisley a kind, apologetic look, already eager to return to their shared interests as he went to aide the professor with setting up the massive star projection. Meanwhile, Paisley enchanted her quill to scrawl notes before Shah even provided the basis of the day’s lesson. She perched on the edge of her chair and leaned back, ankles crossed, reclining as she surveyed her classmates with innocent glances, trying some name association to recall who was, well, who. From her measured assumptions, most of them didn’t make appearances in her other classes, at least from the perspective of her short-term memory.

Eventually, her line of sight fell on the student seated next to Amit’s empty chair. A fellow Slytherin she recognized but couldn’t place, looking far too proper for their surroundings, with his mousy blonde hair immaculately coiffed, pomaded, prim. Even his school robes hinted at additional galleons in the lining, more meticulous care interwoven in the stitches…

Though his appearance first piqued her curiosity, the miniature galaxy on his desk thoroughly captivated her. It hovered above a small wooden frame set flat on the table, the scaled-down twilight a transparent watercolour, diluted indigo and dotted with endless twinkling stars, the cosmos slowly swirling in suspended motion. The wizard absent-mindedly swept his fingers side to side, as if his touch travelled through the Milky Way, constellations webbing to and fro as he landed on Sagittarius-

“I'm not privy to courtesies across the Atlantic, but staring is not encouraged here.”

Paisley’s head jarred at his sudden speech, and she blinked, stammering, face all hot-flashed. “Sorry, I-I was just admiring your star map. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You won’t,” he replied flatly, still scrolling through the universe.

“Oh, did you build it yourself?”

His expression showed amusement. His head turned towards her, sloped, without established eye contact. “No, it’s how I get by in this class.”

A nudge born in her subconscious told her it wasn’t advantageous, but a necessity.

Seeking to understand further, Paisley took a closer look, noticing his distinct lack of pupils. His eyes were a remarkably bewildering hue, as if they argued between blue or green and eventually settled on a mutual agreement.

Not wanting to seem insensitive, Paisley took the opportunity to make light of the circumstance. “Rather poor sense of humour to make a visual-based learning class mandatory, in this case.”

The wizard huffed, a titter held captive in his throat. “You know, for a Ravenclaw, you make a terrible Slytherin.”

Recognition dawned on Paisley as she recalled seeing him at dinner the night before. She finally connected a place to a face; all she needed was a name. “You’re Sebastian’s friend.”

He nodded, slipping into practiced formality. “I’m Ominis, Ominis Gaunt.” 

“Paisley Gallos.” she introduced herself in return, feeling rather inadequate compared to his well-groomed confidence. The tailored uniform and lack of stray hairs didn’t help matters.

Ominis nodded. “Sebastian’s looking forward to your trip to Hogsmeade. Was prattling on about it during breakfast.”

“He was?” This surprised Paisley, given the brief conversation they had. Was there something she was not yet made aware of?

“I’d have thought that would be obvious,” Ominis stated matter of fact. “You’re a new fascination around her, of course, he’ll want to pick your brain.”

Fair. At least he couldn’t see her sapped expression. “Surely that will cease soon enough? I’m not fond of the attention.”

The responding headshake paired with an inward grin said otherwise, and Paisley sighed. “Suppose I was expecting too much.”

“I’m certain you’ll have no issue blending in, especially if you’re nose remains buried in books.”

Paisley arched an eyebrow, undecided if his tone was mocking, playful, or abrasive. Before she could manage a retort, Amit had returned to his seat, pulling out his chair. “Sorry about that! Professor Shah curses that fossil of a contraption, but with the inclement weather, we’ll have to make due…”

While Amit picked up where they left off, Paisley peered around him momentarily, watching as Ominis swirled his fingertips through the stars.

-----

“Ah, there you are.”

Sebastian leaned against the door to the courtyard, kicking a chipped edge of the cobblestone, steeped in the appearance of a parent coming to gather their child from school. “Thankfully the rain has relented.” He held a hand outside, a scant smatter of droplets collecting on his palm. “Well, mostly. Hope you don't mind getting a little wet.”

Oblivious to his amused expression and anticipation of her reaction, Paisley started out the door ahead of him, already walking at a brisk pace. “No issue whatsoever.” The fresh air felt good in her chest, tinged with the earthy aroma of petrichor. “Keep up now, otherwise I’ll get lost.”

The dirt path, worn down to smooth ruts by years of foot traffic, guided them toward the village ahead. As they sidestepped to make way for a thestral-pulled carriage, Paisley's gaze swept over Hogwarts in the distance, her expression awash with wonder. “Magnificent.”

Sebastian stopped alongside her to take in the sight as well. “It’s rather enchanting, isn’t it?” He crossed his arms, idly scuffing a pebble with his Oxford. “Certainly wish Anne were here to see it again. Merlin knows she misses it here.”

“Who’s that?”

They fell into stride again as he replied. “My twin sister. She's ill at the moment, but with any luck, she’ll be back at school sooner than you know.”

Paisley’s expression softened with sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She reached for lighter fare. “Is she in Slytherin as well?”

Sebastian nodded, his grin lax, but loving. “She is. Her, Ominis and I were quite the trio—always up to some mischief, most of which Anne orchestrated herself.”

“Really?” This surprised her, recalling Ominis’s austere demeanour. “But Ominis seems so…”

Sebastian reached back to tug on the hood of Paisley's cloak. "Ah, now you're judging a book by its cover," he teased. "You, one of the brighter minds in our year, falling for such a cliché?"

She stumbled over her words, giving the tells of embarrassment. “I-I mean—“

Sebastian's chuckle cut through the unease, his playful tone softened by genuine warmth. “Oh, come now! Keep that uptight, and you’ll become as petrified as the gargoyles.”

Her silent frown only made his laugh echo on. “So temperamental. Look, Ominis is my best friend, my oldest friend.” His words were sincere, even after following such teasing ones. “He’s a good egg, despite how marvellous his family is.” 

The telltale tone of sarcasm that capped off his remark was not lost on Paisley. “Are they dark wizards or something?” 

Sebastian fell out of step momentarily, as if he wasn’t anticipating the question. He attempted recovery with nonchalance, reminding himself that he recently met this student; he’d have to be careful with the secrets he shared, especially their phrasing. “Well, rumours are just that—rumours. But they’re a bunch of pureblood elitists, the whole lot of them. Loads of Slytherins are, but his father’s side traces back to Salazar himself, so there’s even more to contend on status.”

“That’s rather intense,” Paisley replied, combing back shoulder-dusting waves, damp from the occasional condensation. “I wasn’t aware that blood status was so relevant here.”

“You have no idea. Slytherin is the worst for it.” 

“How very fortunate that I'm muggle-born, then.”

Sebastian’s glance towards her was a wary blend of concern and fascination. His advice came with caution in tow. “Might be best to keep that information under wraps. You’re not from around here, so they probably won’t dig too deep on you, but don’t give them a reason to.” 

A lump formed in Paisley's throat as she wondered who exactly Sebastian was alluding to. Who were "they," and were they people she needed to avoid?

Why even bring up something like that in the first place?

Sebastian backtracked. “But yes, Ominis wants nothing to do with his family’s beliefs. He’s been staying with us in Feldcroft for a while now, having excommunicated them entirely, though he’s still receiving a stipend. Mostly because his family is so hellbent on appearances and status and prioritizing themselves, so they keep him clothed and ‘cared’ for, though they’re hardly caring, if you ask me.” 

“What does that mean?”

“There is… a lot of history there.” He struggled with his reply, meticulously choosing his words with precision. “History, that isn't my place to say. I’ve probably shared enough as it stands..”

With impeccable timing, they approached the entrance to Hogsmeade, dotted with clusters of witches and wizards in all manner of dress, eclectic to ragged. Crooked cottages leaned inwards and sideways, beckoning with their age-old charm, while a whimsical warmth enveloped Paisley's chest, infusing her with a sense of wonder. She couldn't help but admire the enchanting hamlet before her as if it were a scene stolen from a dream, delicately draped in the gentle mist of time itself.

“Seems all roads lead to Hogsmeade.”

“Beg your pardon?” Paisley cocked a brow.

Sebastian merely grabbed her arm, plucking her from an uncharacteristic stupor. “Tomes & Scrolls, correct?”

“Right, yes.”

——-

Although the (hefty) volume that Professor Fig arranged for pickup was already in her possession, Paisley acquired two more without hesitation. “Sure you don’t have any errands to run while you’re here?” She asked Sebastian, carting desired purchases stacked in her arms.

He shook his head, arms crossed, leaning against the railing as he peeked over his shoulder to survey the floor below. “I’ve scoured these shelves and then some,” he assured her. “Managed to evade Potions class and detention for this little excursion; Take your time.”

Scrutiny narrowed her hazel eyes. “What for? I thought you were striving for minimal detention.”

“It’s complete nonsense, really.” The annoyance rolled off Sebastian in droves as he dismissed Paisley’s comment. “There are… regulations that bar specific texts from circulation in the library. I believe that information should be readily accessible. Scribner, however, does not.”

“Are they dangerous?” Paisley ventured as she attempted to reach something from the shelf above, silently cursing her lack of height. Sebastian noticed her pitiful extension when she pushed up on her toes and, with ease, he intervened, effortlessly reaching over her head to grab the leatherbound copy of The Enchanted Elixir Compendium, plopping it on her growing stack. 

Her relieved sigh was met with a nod of acknowledgment before Sebastian resumed his casual stance against the railing. “Of course, dangerous books are bound to be allocated there. What matters, in my humble opinion, is that the danger lies not solely within the pages themselves but, rather, how one engages with their contents.”

“How very valiant of you.”

Sebastian grinned, impressed by Paisley’s selection of books thus far. “Some light reading?” He teased. 

“My mother was a teacher. Keeping well-versed comes second nature.”

"Likewise," the wizard chimed in. "Both my parents, actually—"

The sudden creak of the shop door swinging open interrupted them, startling Paisley. With a quick succession of thuds, her stack of books tumbled from her grasp to the floor.

"Dammit," she muttered under her breath, crouching down to retrieve them. Sebastian mirrored her actions, his helpful gesture met with an appreciative smile. As they straightened up, Paisley's gaze darted through the gaps in the wooden staircase rungs, fixating on the entrance of the shop.

A burly wizard sporting a bowler cap stared back at her, his sneer dripping with contempt. Before she could react, Sebastian rose to his feet, extending a hand to her. "You alright?" he inquired, sensing her sudden unease.

Paisley nodded, but as she glanced back towards the entrance, the man was nowhere to be found.

"Sorry, just... nothing. Thought I saw something," she dismissed, though a trace of uncertainty lingered in her voice.

-----

At the advice of Sebastian (and the mercy of her back), Paisley toted her armload of fresh books to the mail sorting to dispatch them to her dormitory via post. Once liberated from the weight, she emerged, savouring a deep breath.

The smell of milk chocolate and caramel swamped her throat, and she had to let out a brief cough to counter the sugary scent. Sebastian’s eyes were saucers. “Honeydukes, now.”

Before Paisley could interject, she was whisked away, captive to Sebastian's impromptu adventure. In hindsight, Professor Fig's decision to enlist Sebastian as her guide seemed more prescient than she had initially realized.

A riot of colour exploded from a nearby storefront, vibrant and shocking amidst the surrounding muted tones, a sore thumb of eye-popping saturation. The tantalizing aroma of confections grew stronger with each step, drawing them inexorably closer. "A candy shop?" Her question wasn’t one of confirmation, but surprise. “Last thing I’d expect to see here.”

Sebastian's response was cryptic yet assured: " Nothing compares to Honeydukes."

True to his word, the moment they crossed the threshold, Paisley felt as if she had been transported to an alternate reality—a fable where children might wander into enchanted forests and stumble upon the edible abode of a wicked hag. Before she could voice her bewilderment, Sebastian was already off, his cloak was billowing past her, brown hair all bouncing as he bounded towards the aisles in the back.

It provided an appropriate visual for the term ‘kid in a candy shop,’ prompting a wry smile from Paisley as she trailed after him, equally intrigued by the unexpected detour.

“Right, so you have to give these a try—” Sebastian practically tossed a box of bonbons at her, narrowly whizzing past her head before presenting another variety of treats. “Ah! Chocolate wands! Haven’t had these since I was in third year…”

Paisley snorted, deftly catching the confections as he lobbed them her way. “I don’t think I’ve consumed this much sugar in my entire life.”

“Need to catch up then,” He chimed, depositing another box of sweets in her folded arms, labelled Cauldron Cakes. “Have to put some meat on those bones; the castle gets plenty chilled during the winter, especially in the dungeons.”

She narrowly dodged his aimed pinch at her waist, accidentally dropping the box of cakes. “Sorry!” her sheepish tone aimed at the store clerk, whose expression claimed every ounce of annoyance that Paisley could detect.

“Excellent,” Sebastian was already strolling down another aisle, and with a quick-quipped “incoming!” Paisley sidestepped to grab the box of Every Flavour Beans as Sebastian grinned with mischief over the shelf at her. “You’ve got to try those, especially the dark-spotted ones.” She skimmed the flavour key on the back of the package and threw him a glare once she learned which ones were unmistakably pepper-flavoured. The box was promptly tossed back over the aisle towards Sebastian, who caught it before it could hit the floor.

It was at that moment that Paisley caught sight of a familiar bowler hat, traversing down the aisle opposite hers.

She bristled immediately, a chill of suspicion, of worry cooling her blood. 

His narrow-set eyes were wild when they glanced at her, and immediately Paisley moved, rounding the aisle to join Sebastian again. There was an urgency in her voice when she prompted him. “Have all you need?” 

Her tone was not lost on him, despite his scrunched brow of confusion. “Uhh, yeah, yeah of course…”

Almost predictably, the thickset wizard was suddenly nowhere to be found.

The pair paid for their pluckings, and Sebastian stuffed them into his robes as they left the shop.

“Well, now that that’s all settled,” Sebastian brushed a speck of dandruff from his robe, “I’d say we have just enough time to enjoy a butterbeer, on me.”

“What’s butterbeer?”

Sebastian’s overreaction was nearly comical. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me what butterbeer is?”

Paisley shrugged. “Perhaps you're a bit slow on the uptick, but I’m not exactly from around here.”

The range of his responding eyeroll impressed her. She didn't miss a beat as he led the way, passing by a gilded clothing shop. “Keep it up; you may find a thought or two in the back of your skull.”

“Oh, what’s that, Pais? You’d like to buy us a round, instead? Feeling charitable, hmm?”

Paisley swatted him before he could bring the hood of her robe over her head.

-----

“Well?”

Sebastian's voice lilted in expectation as he leaned in slightly, his gaze locking onto Paisley's every nuance. She found herself under scrutiny before she even took a sip of the amber beverage.

“It’s…” She combed for the proper terms. “Reminiscent of butterscotch? Though it's very similar in flavour to the crème caramels my mother used to make.”

Satisfied with her response, Sebastian drank before studying her more in-depth. “Must be quite the whirlwind, stepping into this world?”

Paisley nodded with exaggeration. “Thrilling, though it's all a bit more overwhelming than I initially thought.” She shifted in her seat, thanking the kind barkeep who delivered the platter of sandwiches they’d ordered. “When I started at Ilvermorny, it felt like, like an extension of what I knew, you know? Different land, yes, but not a different universe. It wasn’t such a shift to acclimate.”

“I can imagine.” He paused to wipe butterbeer foam from the corner of his mouth. “Do you miss it, your old school?” A complicated smile claimed her, bittersweet in its lack of depth. “Yes. Well, yes and no. I got plenty teased by classmates who didn’t appreciate my… academic fervour.”

“Bullied for your grades?” He seemed genuinely surprised by this. “Rather immature, if you ask me. ‘Round here, you’re more likely to be ragged on for failing studies. Granted, if someone wants to tease you, they’ll find a way…”

The slow swing of the tavern door diverted attention from their chat, Paisley's gaze fixating on the wizard wearing a bowler hat making an entrance. She felt a familiar knot of discomfort form in her stomach, and she couldn't help but voice her concern to Sebastian.

“Who is that man?” 

Sebastian lacked subtlety then, craning his head past the wooden beam to follow her line of sight. “Ah, that’s Harlow. Local thug, one of Rookwood’s goons.”

Paisley frowned, creased between eyebrows. “He’s turned up everywhere we have. Tombs & Scrolls, Honeydukes, and now here? Doesn’t that strike you as odd?” 

“Not something to fret about.” Her worry was dismissed with a quick head shake, but Sebastian explained before invalidation rooted in her gut. “Rookwood doesn’t dedicate much time terrorizing students, let alone Harlow. Unless you’re involved in some clandestine extra-curricular activity that I’m not aware of?”

“Not yet, at least.” 

He snorted, though persisted in assuaging her concerns. “Probably a coincidence. Everyone loves Honeydukes. Criminals can have a sweet tooth, too.”

“...And at Tomes & Scrolls?”

“It would shock me if he could read, for one thing.” Sebastian took a bite of sandwich, continuing through chews. “Maybe he fancied a bedtime story? Something to settle Rookwood in for rest after a long day of pilfering and purloining?”

Despite his attempts to quell her suspicions, Paisley was firmly planted in nervousness, chewing her thumbnail as she watched the foam dissipate from the dredges of her butterbeer. Perhaps it was that wariness ingrained in most women, saturating her mind and all correlations in anxiety, her senses on high alert. It annoyed her that Sebastian was blissfully ignorant of such a feeling.

To her relief, Harlow didn’t linger, having barely stepped beyond the threshold, departing almost as swiftly as he had arrived, accompanied by an equally smarmy wizard who was all legs and elbows.

“Am I right, or am I right? ” 

Sebastian’s smart-ass brand of reassurance was met with a deadpan glare. He raked a hand through his hair, sending it in a different direction than it was heading previously. "Look, if you're uneasy about it, we can always use the Floo to get back to the castle. I'm sure I've got some powder tucked away in my robes somewhere…”

-----

The rain had stopped completely as the duo exited The Three Broomsticks, the sunset obscured by thick but commonplace overcast, blocking out more light than usual for just past the dinner hour.

“There’s a public-access flame nearby,” Sebastian announced, striding around the tavern's corner, his hand fumbling within the inner recesses of his robes. "I'm pretty sure I've got enough powder for both of us. Always prepared for these eventualities."

“Right,” Paisley replied automatically, her attention stolen by a nearby group of witches and wizards, engrossed in animated discussion. 

“What in Merlin’s name?”

Sebastian’s exclamation caught her attention, and Paisley pulled herself to join him, immediately comprehending the cause for astonishment.

Before them was a flat, stone plaque, crowned by a stone-carved bust of Ignatia Wildsmith with a cloth gag bound tightly around her mouth. Paisley felt along the knot, attempting to pull it off, but it was an impossible effort; the muffling accessory was enchanted to be an integral feature of the carving itself. Her fingers grasped futilely at the edges, the stone damp from the rain, but even with the slip, she couldn't dislodge it.

“The Floo flame, it’s…” Sebastian frowned. “It’s been bewitched.” 

Paisley was on high alert before. Now, she was downright afraid. Thankfully, when she looked at Sebastian this time, his apprehension mirrored hers. “Come,” he uttered, taking her by the hand this time, the chill of fear now shared between them. “There’s another near Honeydukes.”

Intuition whispered to Paisley, confirming her suspicions when they discovered the second flame was extinguished as well, the inventor of Floo powder gagged from speaking, unable to name any guilty parties. Observers were keen to the sudden disappearance of transport to and from Hogsmeade, as small gatherings began to form around the out-of-place waypoints. “I’ll have Officer Singer investigate right away!” the cafe attendant shouted, vanishing inside to no doubt issue an urgent request via owl. 

“Sebastian,” Paisley spoke up, wary, voice cracking. “Someone doesn’t want us to leave Hogsmeade.”

He nodded, expression grim. “Not quickly, at least. I suggest we head back via the main road. It’s a short walk, and there’s always foot traffic.” 

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, Paisley needed little persuasion.

The students ducked out from the crowds, connecting to the road that led back to Hogwarts. As Paisley fell into step with her new friend, she peered over her shoulder towards the village, letting relief steep her nerves as she exhaled. 

Only in the safety and embrace of hindsight did their predicament become painfully clear.

They weren’t trapped in Hogsmeade. 

They were pigeonholed out of it.

[sugar-grigri]

Denji does not make the same mistakes again

I refuse to be told that Denji has not evolved (notably because he immediately accepts Asa's date proposal). 

The Denji of part 1 was not mentally balanced, he had evolved without reference points, in a solely survivalist logic. For him, the only way to connect with others was through physical love, sex, the most demonstrative form of love, which is capitalised on and is the most visual, but also the least healthy especially for a teenager (symbolised by magazines). Denji did not want his own good but to get out of his environment, the way he fights shows it: he repeats that he suffers martyrdom but goes on with a monstrous endurance because he accepts that he is categorized as a tool, and conceives his value only in a utilitarian way (return on capitalism). It is through his family (Aki and Power), but also through his experiences (the experience of mourning Himeno, of a budding love with Reze), that Denji builds himself.

If part 1 ends with him claiming that what he wants to do is "eat steak and have sex with a ton of girlfriends", it's not a magnifying glass, a non-development but an evolution of his own standards. Denji doesn't want to settle for anything less: that was his tragedy in contrast to Aki's. Aki lost himself in an impossible revenge, while Denji considered simple vital or primary needs as his dreams. That's why he went through an existential crisis after touching Power's breasts: because to satisfy one's dreams quickly is to lose one's objective very quickly. 

To want to eat a steak and not bread and jam, to demand a harem instead of a girlfriend, is proof of the evolution of Denji's consideration and esteem for himself. He is not a tool, not a dog, not just a normal boy, he is Chainsaw Man. If the work is called Chainsaw Man it is not just because it is about Chainsaw Man (it borders on tautology), but the finality of the work: a boy without a reference point who claims his own title. 

Denji needed a reference point, which he gets at the end of part 1: he has a loving family (Nayuta), but also a framework, and an education which is the supreme concretion that the hero is now balanced. 

Denji wants a girlfriend not to fill in his gaps. But like any teenager !

Denji's bad experiences or the consecration of platonic love are also Fujimoto's refusals to capitalise on the reader's desires. But also to titillate him. Putting in yet another overpowered, demonic girl, having Denji quickly accept, is also playing with similarities and differences. The setting and the mistakes seem to be the same, yet everything has indeed evolved. Making Nayuta look as cruel as Makima again with her symbolic braid, placing a demon inside a young girl, not solving Denji's perversity problems. To me, this is the development of a mirror game between the parties.

We had platonic love.

Let's have the romance!

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Fixing Archewell's official description of MM's attendance at CHLA to better reflect accuracy. You're welcome Archewell. by u/Hermes_Blanket

Fixing Archewell's official description of MM's attendance at CHLA to better reflect accuracy. You're welcome, Archewell. A little editing is all it needed!"This weekend, Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex The Appendage of Haznoballs, attended crashed the biennial Children’s Hospital Los Angeles (CHLA) Gala, an inspiring event dedicated to celebrating the exceptional services provided to children across LA.Invited as a special guest by Crashing the event, and planting herself next to CHLA’s president and CEO, Paul Viviano, The Duchess was proud to stand alongside esteemed guests determined to push her way in, come hell or high water, in support of this vital cause to demonstrate she IS TOO A BIG STAR and FITS THIS RED DRESS NOW.The Duchess Appendage has a long-standing connection with determination to glom onto CHLA, having visited the hospital on several occasions to meet with patients to score photo-ops and participate in the annual Make March Matter campaign hopefully rub shoulders with Hollywood stars who might be useful to her.Her presence at the gala underscored her commitment to advocating for the health and well-being of children around the world drawing attention to herself in the most brazen way possible, as exemplified by her choice of clothing." post link: https://ift.tt/XKlwRU0 author: Hermes_Blanket submitted: October 08, 2024 at 12:23AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[cynicalrosebud]

K9 Hybrid Gear and Civvies Guide:

Tac Gear:

A military K9 hybrid’s gear is specifically designed to enhance both their human and canine traits, optimizing them for tactical operations while providing protection and communication tools. Here’s a breakdown of what their gear might include:

1. Tactical Vest/Body Armor:

• Material: Made from lightweight yet durable materials like Kevlar or ballistic nylon, offering flexibility and protection.

• Design: The vest is form-fitted to the hybrid’s body, allowing freedom of movement for their human torso and canine-enhanced limbs (if applicable).

• MOLLE System: Like their human counterparts, the vest has a MOLLE (Modular Lightweight Load-carrying Equipment) system for attaching pouches, gear, or identification patches.

• Armor Plates: Some models may include armor plates over vital areas like the chest and back for protection in combat scenarios.

• Velcro Patches: Custom patches for identification (e.g., name, unit, or flag) can be attached, as well as handler-specific patches to show their bond.

2. Collar:

• Military Hybrid Collar: Resembling a communication collar, it holds an integrated microphone and speaker for direct communication between the hybrid and handler. The collar is sturdy, made with metal reinforcements to withstand rough environments.

• Customization: Some collars are personalized, such as Y/n’s, which might have a metal plate engraved with her handler’s name (Alex Keller), symbolizing their connection.

• Attachment Points: There are rings for attaching a leash or other equipment, though leashes are rarely used for hybrids, except in specific scenarios.

3. Headgear/Comms:

• Earpieces: Built-in communication systems in their collars or headsets allow the hybrid to receive commands from their handler directly.

• Headset Attachments: Some hybrids may wear lightweight helmets or headgear that accommodate their ears and protect their heads, with areas to mount night-vision goggles or cameras.

• Night Vision/Camera Gear: Headsets may include advanced technology such as cameras or night-vision gear to help hybrids navigate in low-light situations.

4. Gloves and Footwear:

• Gloves: Designed for hybrids with more animal-like claws or enhanced dexterity, gloves are reinforced to protect their hands without hindering their ability to climb, grab, or fight.

• Footwear: High-performance boots or paw protectors for hybrids ensure they can move across rough terrain while maintaining their balance and agility. Some may have specially designed soles for stealth and grip.

5. Harness:

• Load-Bearing Harness: A harness often attached to the vest, this is used when hybrids need to carry extra equipment such as first aid kits, tactical gear, or ammunition. It may also include an extraction handle, allowing their handler to pull them out of danger if necessary.

• Attachment Points: The harness has reinforced points to attach ropes, useful for rappelling or being airlifted in certain operations.

6. Goggles:

• Protective Eyewear: Tactical goggles shield the hybrid’s eyes from debris, sand, and other environmental hazards. Some might even have built-in HUDs (heads-up displays) for enhanced battlefield awareness.

7. Camo Integration:

• Fur/Armor Coloration: Depending on the environment, the hybrid’s gear will match the standard military camo. Whether it’s desert, woodland, or urban camouflage, the materials and design aim to provide additional stealth.

8. Weapon Mounts (if applicable):

• Some hybrids, particularly those with canine or feline features, may have mounts for lightweight firearms or tactical tools attached to their harness for ease of access by the handler.

9. Hydration System:

• A built-in hydration system similar to a CamelBak, allowing the hybrid to stay hydrated during extended missions without needing to stop for water breaks.

10. Tracking/Monitoring Systems:

• GPS: Built into their collar or vest, providing real-time tracking of the hybrid’s location on the battlefield.

• Vital Monitoring: Sensors that monitor the hybrid’s heart rate, body temperature, and stress levels can alert handlers to any issues in the field.

This hybrid gear is a seamless blend of practicality, protection, and comfort, ensuring that K9 hybrids can perform in dangerous environments while staying closely connected to their handlers.

Civvies:

A hybrid’s “civvies” are designed for both comfort and practicality, blending the functionality required for their unique physiology with a casual style suitable for off-duty life. The clothing is made from durable, flexible materials that allow freedom of movement and accommodate their hybrid traits like tails, ears, and claws.

Top: Hybrids typically wear a simple, fitted shirt, often sleeveless or short-sleeved, allowing their shoulders and upper bodies to move freely. The material is breathable and slightly reinforced around the shoulders and upper back to prevent wear from repeated stretching and movement. The shirts often have slits or custom tailoring to accommodate tails comfortably.

Bottoms: Cargo pants or loose-fitting tactical trousers are a staple in a hybrid’s off-duty wardrobe. These pants have adjustable waistbands and are designed with reinforced stitching around the thighs and knees for extra durability when in their preferred position of kneeling and sitting. The legs taper slightly to avoid restricting movement, allowing their legs to move unhindered, especially when they need to leap, crouch, or sit. Some hybrids may opt for shorts in warmer climates, but they are always practical and rugged.

Footwear: One of the most distinctive features of a hybrid’s civilian outfit is their unique footwear. Hybrids wear foot coverings similar to trapeze boots, which are designed to protect the soles of their feet while leaving their claws free. These boots are lightweight and open at the toes, with a sturdy base that provides grip and protection from rough terrain or base flooring. The design allows hybrids to extend and retract their claws naturally, giving them agility while keeping their feet safe. The boots often feature adjustable straps or fastenings to ensure a secure fit without restricting their natural foot shape or flexibility.

Outerwear: For cooler weather, hybrids may wear jackets or hoodies that are custom-fitted to allow for their tails. These pieces often have slits or adjustable flaps at the lower back to provide space for tail movement. The jackets are usually made from tough, weather-resistant fabric, ensuring that hybrids can comfortably wear them on or off base.

Accessories: Hybrids may also wear fingerless gloves that allow their claws to remain free for precise movements while still protecting their hands. They might also carry belts with small pouches for personal items, maintaining a functional look even while off duty.

[fayevalcntine]

Taking aside whether everything we've seen is fully true or not (though I subtly doubt that since the writers have mentioned they will revisit a lot of the previous past scenes in season 2), the way Louis narrates is limiting on its own for both Lestat and Claudia. Omitting entire years' worth of time and only giving Daniel (and us) the barebones information through vital moments still leaves me with a lot of questions regarding Claudia in particular. Because sure, Daniel HAS the diaries, but who's to say they haven't been tampered with more than Louis even lets on? And specifically, when it comes to the 10 years overall after Claudia comes back, we see no diary in Daniel's vicinity. The only time we do see some is at the end of episode 7, of which one contains Lestat's final words, the other is about their trip to Europe after the murder. That leaves us with only Louis as the main source of information for this time period, but Louis isn't above solely giving Daniel scenarios in order to place Claudia or Lestat in specific roles through how he experienced them in the past.

Case in point, episode 6 has no killings from Claudia. We don't see her hunt, not even to go after a man or stalk him, we definitely don't see her kill, despite all episodes before or after that containing some explicit killings with her. I say this because to Louis, Claudia was his nurse/knight/protector/sister during this particular period of time. And even subconsciously, he ends up painting her as such to the point where we also don't even get much information about Claudia and how she even traveled in episode 5? We only get one piece of information about it with the train scene, but we still get absolutely nothing about how: 1) she even came to reading about vampires, 2) how she managed during her 7 years alone, 3) any basic information about her plans beyond her catching a train for going outside of New Orleans, or even about how she learned languages. The only information we even get specifically is regarding her horrible encounter with Bruce, but again, this later ends up serving more as an apparent parallel to Louis' later situation with Lestat than it is even about Claudia, who suffered through an assault.

I would also argue the same thing in regards to the 6 years they spent alone together, as well. Louis wants Daniel to think of Claudia in a better light, he makes her out to be his savior and the only person that seems to want better for him, yet at the same time leaves out any further details about the years they lived with each other (and not with Lestat) in Rue Royale after he recuperated? Why? And this isn't even to argue that Claudia may not have been as perfect, rather that Louis cuts out so much context as to how they were like with each other after she came back that I end up getting only so much information about Claudia solely when it comes to how it affected or was connected to Louis.

Louis is telling the story here, and even with Claudia's diaries (which Daniel now knows Louis has tampered with), we only end up seeing what Louis wants us to see. This is why I hope season 2 changes some of this because I would really like to just know more about Claudia and her own feelings regarding all the later situations with her and Louis.