#originally there was a third picture of them making out covered in blood but it lowkey looks like shit so I’m not posting it

[benetnvsch]

You are a cardinal

You are a cardinal

And I should be so lucky

As to be a part of you at all

———————

[cardinal- oc art]

So this song (overwintered by Stephan nance) reminded me of these two ocs- tori and kitson- and so I sketched em rq. In this specific au, they’re both in line to be future leaders of this Underground Group they’re in and they both know this. However there can only be one leader so there’s this strange tension between them cuz that means they’ll have to fight one day.

Until then they’re just a powerful duo and rlly close and understand each other really well and both think the other is Too Good for them (when it’s really a third secret option where they both actually suck), and it’s all good and friendly until one day where it all goes wrong teehee :3

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC: Original Serial Adopter

When Bruce adopted Dick Grayson the Media was in a frenzy. The billionaire and playboy adopting an orphan after some kind of freak circus accident? Nobody expected it to last more than a month. The media called this action an "Act of Charity".

Then a few years later he adopted Jason Todd. Jason was much more scrappy and after a while some media started calling him the "Wayne Stray".

When he took in Tim after Jason's "accident" they called Tim a rebound. But instead of a relationship Tim was just being used to fill the void that Jason left. The media eventually called him "Jason Todd's replacement."

The media got much more suspicious when Bruce adopted Cassandra and crossed lines with their speculations that resulted in a lot of lawsuits. Though nobody in Wayne's circles believed the rumors for a second, so rumors were wiped out pretty quickly. The least offensive of these things called Bruce a "Bleeding Heart" when the media saw the scars Cassandra had.

Stephanie was never officially adopted - at least legally - but anybody who saw her with the family knew that Bruce had adopted her as a daughter. Like Cassandra she got some negative comments but they learned after the first time. "Another Wayne Joins The Manor".

When Damian came into the picture the media exploded. Comments along the lines of "The Bastard Child" which made Bruce's blood boil but kept quiet. Damian had only known violence and aggression growing up, and while his mother loved him she had exposed him to a life he didn't need to see. Bruce wasn't about to make everything worse by loosing it on the media for being jackasses.

When he fostered Duke the media exploded again. Showing the ugly side of human ignorance but Bruce and Duke were both able to ignore it (while Tim and Oracle found ways to rip every person apart who dared make a comment against them).

Bruce didn't care what they said, because at the end of the day he had children who he loved with all of his heart and was learning to do the best for. Sure, he made plenty of mistakes but he tried to learn from his mistakes.

Though the rumor about Bruce being a "Serial Adopter" was one that would be one that would never leave him.

But he had to learn it from somewhere.

A fact that was ignored until Alfred showed up back to the manor after a shopping trip with a scrawny child walking hesitantly behind him, carrying some of the groceries'. He was prime "adoption bait". Underweight, messy black hair, blue eyes that were just a bit too blue, and bruises that were in view despite the kids best attempt to cover them with his hoodie.

A large hand print bruise around his neck, scraped knuckles, and a bruise peeking out from under his hairline might as well have been ink in the pen that Bruce was going to use to sign that kids adoption papers and sign the receipt for the shovel he would buy to bury the bastards responsible.

After the groceries were put away Alfred properly introduced the kid. His name was Danny and after a series of unfortunate events while Alfred was shopping Danny had been forced to jump in and help him. Bruce thought that maybe Alfred had been in danger and never called them but when it became clear that luck just wasn't on his side and that he was never in danger for anything despite being late it made Bruce even more concerned about the teen that currently was eating his third apple as though he had never eaten anything in his life.

He stayed small, stayed silent, looking around the room anxiously. He clearly kept tabs on every window. Every door. Every exit but hardly paid any attention to the valuables. He was scared but not a thief.

Finally they have to ask about Danny's injuries. Was he safe at home? Did he have a place to stay? Why was he so thin? Did he need them to call somebody.

Danny was quiet for a long time.

"I don't have a home to go to. The bruises are fine, I'm just clumsy. I don't need a place to stay. Thanks for the food and the hospitality but... I don't feel like being kidnapped and tortured by another millionaire so if Alfred doesn't need anything else I should go."

Danny tried to get up and move, the pain obvious but before anybody could say anything else Alfred simply said.

"Sit."

Danny hesitated, then sighed and sat down again.

"You promised you would allow me to treat you before you left. I am a man of my word so as soon as you finish your apple I will bandage your wounds and you will be free to leave if you wish."

Classic Alfred trap.

One that worked flawlessly.

Fresh bandages, a full stomach, warm clean clothes and a cup of hot chocolate on the comfortable couch in the living room was all it took to lull the injured teen to sleep.

Alfred continued this trend for three more days managing to trick Danny into helping him with minor tasks around the manor, offering him another meal because he 'made too much and didn't want to waste it' and countless other things.

It wasn't until day four when Danny seemed to accept his fate and allowed them to help him. Which prompted Cass to point at Alfred.

"Original Serial Adopter."

Making the entire table laugh while Danny just looked increasingly confused.

[famwhy]

Saviour Complex (II)

Yandere! Tangerine X Reader

Act 1 | Act 2 | Act 3

Synopsis: One night, you're pushed straight into an incoming train, causing everything to go black. When your eyes open up once more, you find yourself in a completely different country and face-to-face with your favourite character whose demise was right around the corner. Too attached to the man, you find yourself hatching a plan to save him - unaware of the consequences.

Word Count: 7,232

Act 2 - A Quest to Die For

The Hornet was yet another assassin that boarded the train. She was able to infiltrate by dressing up in a large costume of Momonga, a popular Japanese cartoon character in the movie - it even had a whole carriage dedicated to it on this bullet train; a carriage which indirectly caused the death of the White Death's son by basically giving The Hornet a free pass onto the train. But, what can ya do?

Speaking of The Hornet killing the White Death's son, this was the exact scene where that occurred. Now, in the original scene, the seat you were in was empty - making it so that there was no possible way for any witnesses to chance upon the poison being stabbed into the Russian's neck - thus, nobody else had to die.

Now though, you were on the other side of the carriage, sat at the seats which were supposed to be vacant - making it so that you would most likely witness the murder and - knowing The Hornet - she would get rid of you too.

You had absolutely no chance against poison made to make your blood congeal, clogging your veins until you bled out from your eye sockets and every other hole in your body. Crimson substance gushing out of your mouth as you desperately tried to choke out your last words, regret for-

-nevermind. You had other fish to fry right now; the biggest fish at the moment being The Hornet.

You could always escape this carriage but that would make you look supremely suspicious to both Tangerine and Lemon.

Picture this, a girl you just met on this very train ride was sat near the person you were meant to protect for this very train ride. You then go off with your brother, leaving both of them alone for a few moments. Once you come back, the person you wanted to protect was bleeding out of his eye sockets and the girl you just met was now gone.

Yeah... not a very good look, huh?

But... you digressed.

Now... how were you going to get yourself out of this one? 

Leaving was a definite no-go. Staying was also risky but at least that way, you wouldn't lose Tangerine's trust if you played your cards right.

You just had to figure out a way to keep The Hornet from killing you too.

A puff of air left your mouth. This was very different to all those times in the past where you had to get yourself out of a very tricky situation. Back then, it was as quick as 'bang!' and the problem was gone. Maybe you should-

-no, no you shouldn't.

How could you even think of doing such a thing?

You swore to yourself- you swore never to do it again.

Bang, a noise reverberated in your head.

The first time you heard it caused a loud ringing to echo not long after, drowning out the rest of the world and zooming straight into the liquid splattered against your face; the liquid that stained your hands.

You couldn't bare to look at yourself in the mirror the next week, too haunted by the vision of the red that covered your hands and face. Every time you caught a glimpse of yourself, it was there, poignant and prevalent as ever.

Bang.

The second time you heard it wasn't as bad as the first - there was still a ringing, but it wasn't so loud; so quick to drown out the world around you. No - instead, it was just there in the background - persistent but not as provoking.

You still couldn't fathom looking at yourself in the mirror but at least the constant view of red splattered across your form had died down, slowly ebbing away from the confines of your mind.

Bang.

The third time was the most terrifying. Not because the ringing came back, or your hands that went from being slightly stained with blood to completely soaking in it - no. 

It was because you were so unbothered by it; as though you were getting used to the feeling; as though you were just accepting it as it was... as though you were learning to live with it.

The thought was horrific.

The thought terrified you.

And then, just like that- it was gone. No ringing, no red in the mirror - no nothing. Not even a single thought about how scary it was to think that way.

It was just all gone...

When you tuned back in to the movie, to this reality, you noticed a large form approaching this carriage - a large form belonging to a certain Japanese cartoon character. 

Your eyes widened as your chest heaved up and down at a more rapid rate, visions of the wedding scene with all the guests throwing up blood having flashed through your mind in that exact moment.

In an act of quick thinking, you tipped your sunhat over your eyes - careful not to have the gun fall out - before leaning your head against the window and steadying your breath as much as you could.

Hopefully, she'd buy the act.

The squeaks of her voice slowly grew louder as she approached, probably waddling her way over to The Son.

Then, the faint sound of skin pushing against fabric let you know that she was right next to him - probably about to inject him with the poison.

Your prediction was, once again, proven to be correct as muffled screams made their way over to your ears alongside a 'shhh' coming from a large costume that was right beside you.

A lump formed in your throat and you tried very carefully to gulp it back down.

Even as her squeaks faded away, you chose not to remove the sunhat from your head. Again, patience was key in moments like these. You couldn't drop your act until you were absolutely sure that you wouldn't get caught.

So you waited.

And soon, you heard two pairs of footsteps followed by a voice.

"Right, so, slight change of plans-

-ho!"

A pause.

Then another voice piped up.

"First his wife, now his son? That's a lot o' white deaths."

Ah, this was the scene where Tangerine and Lemon happened upon the body right?

If you recalled correctly, they should-

"'Ang on a minute." Tangerine said.

-huh? That line wasn't in the movie.

After that, he went silent, and you wondered what he was doing...

...that was, until, you felt the pressure on your head start to shift as your hat lifted up ever-so-slowly.

A light gasp left your lips as your hand shot up to clasp the ring as hard as you could, stopping it from moving any further before your head tilted up and your eyes met with that beautiful blue you were so fond of.

"Tangerine?"

"You alright there, love?" He rose a brow, placing one hand on your shoulder and causing the area to immediately feel all warm and tingly.

"Uhh, yeah." You desperately tried to restrain yourself from looking over at the hand he placed on your shoulder, not wanting to make it seem like you were uncomfortable - if anything, you were the complete opposite. "Did something happen?"

You found your gaze naturally trailing to the side, about to land on the bleeding eyes of the White Death's son. You were unable to do so, however, when your vision was blocked by your favourite character himself. He quickly sat down beside you, taking both of your hands in his own and unknowingly causing your heartbeat to spike up as your stomach fluttered from both the proximity and the contact.

"No, nothin' happened." He denied your words. "I was just worried about you is all. You 'ad a bit of a fall earlier, didn't you? Just wan'ed to make sure you were alright from it."

He was lying. You knew he was.

He was just trying to draw your attention away from the dead body on the other side of the train as his brother quickly dealt with making it seem like the guy wasn't dead.

You knew he was lying and yet, you couldn't help the warmth that flooded through your veins at his words.

"Oh... that's uhh, really nice of you." You looked to the side, gaze softening as a smile tugged onto your lips and your resolve for being on this train, your desire to save your favourite character, strengthened.

When your eyes returned to his form, you saw the softened look on his face and damn was it enough to make you melt.

Soon enough though, he cleared his throat and got up; quickly wiping the soft expression off his face.

"Well, if that's all, love."

You frowned, missing the feeling of his hands in your own. But... the show must go on, no?

He then turned to his brother and said, "we gotta make sure he doesn't step a foot off this train. You see the case? Deal with 'oever 'as it."

"Alright." Lemon responds. "How do I do that? Talk to 'im? Or like, talk to 'im." The second time he said 'talk', he opened his coat up by the slightest amount and reached a hand inside - no doubt signifying he was reaching for his precious gun.

Tangerine gave him an incredulous look before saying, in a tone leaking with sarcasm, "I dunno. Why don't you tell him about the story about how Gordon met Percy and how Percy's now bleeding from his fucking eyesockets!"

After he spat the sentence out, he immediately took off - going down one side of the train in hopes of catching the criminal who's so incredibly lucky, it was unbelievable sometimes.

With one last comment, Lemon went the opposite direction just as the train stopped.

Now... what were you going to do?

It wasn't until quite a while later that Tangerine's death scene would come up, you should probably spend this time planning on how you could prevent it.

Before you planned on preventing it, you had to recall how exactly it happened.

It was right after Tangerine got a call from one of the White Death's men warning him of what would happen if he made it to Kyoto; telling him that he would die as soon as the White Death got his hands on him.

Then, he entered the same carriage as The Prince and she put on an act to trick him into thinking she was an innocent girl. It worked at first. But then, he saw the sticker that Lemon put on her back.

See, Lemon was a huge fan of Thomas the Tank Engine. He often compared people to the characters in the show, hence why he was so good at reading people (or so he claimed). He always carried stickers of the characters in the show with him.

One of these said characters was Diesel. The worst of the bunch, a guy who always took it too far - the character you had to watch out for.

And that was also the very same character stuck onto the back of The Prince.

Thanks to his brother, Tangerine knew that Prince wasn't all who she made herself out to be and, because of his newly-gained knowledge, he put a gun to her head. 

Unfortunately, just as he was about to pull the trigger, Ladybug stumbled into the carriage and lunged for the gun after Prince acted, once again, like an innocent girl scared for her life. As the two struggled for possession of the weapon, a 'bang!' reverberated through the air...

...and then, blood sprayed out of the neck that belonged to your favourite character as he choked out a warning, trying his best to inform Ladybug of the deceptive individual he was trying to protect.

You still remembered screaming out a 'no!' when you first watched it, upset that your favourite character had just died. You didn't cry though - at least, not until later on; when Lemon stumbled upon the body, to be specific. The sight of the broader male seated beside the dead body of his brother as the slow, mellow song echoed in the background was just too much and, before you knew it, the tears cascaded down your cheeks like a waterfall.

You couldn't let it happen now that you had the opportunity to stop it; you wouldn't let it happen.

You were going to save Tangerine.

The only problem was: how were you going to do that?

His death was a complete accident, Ladybug didn't mean to pull the trigger; he wasn't trying to. 

How on Earth were you supposed to prevent an accident like that from occurring?

Maybe you could prevent Tangerine from ever approaching The Prince in the first place?

Before you could ponder on any further strategies, the sudden need to relieve yourself overwhelmed you.

A full bladder? Dammit, when was the last time you went to the toilet?

With a deep sigh laced in frustration, you pushed yourself up abruptly, grumbling under your breath about your human limitations as you awkwardly scooched out of your place between the seat and table.

Once you were fully stood up, your hands rose up to the ridge of your hat and you gave it a firm tug, fixing its place on your head as you felt a slight movement from the cold material laying under it. Once you were sure the weapon was secure, you started to walk down the aisle - heels clicking against the floor as you rushed out.

As the doors opened to the capsule between your carriage and the next one, your eyes flitted over to the toilet stall, cursing as you saw the colour red near the lock.

Occupied.

This went on for the next few carriages.

Then, you happened upon something.

"I didn't realise I was gettin' a babysitter to come cut my bollocks."

It was Tangerine, taking yet another warning call from the White Death's men.

"I'm a professional. We're making sure the case and his son are perfectly safe.

"Can I please go do my job now?" He continued and, if you recalled correctly, went on to cut off the man before he could continue speaking, with a tone heavy in sarcasm. "Oh, very kind of you. Thank you very much."

He then hung up the call before looking to the side and fixing himself up in the mirror - something which would have normally made you laugh had you not been bursting for the toilet.

It was then that he noticed Ladybug hidden in a side room and jumped.

"Fuck me! Jesus Christ." He cussed, placing a hand over his chest.

Ladybug then decided to pipe up with an unnecessary remark. "It's very rude talking on the phone, on the train. In Japan."

"This rude enough for ya, ya fucking prick?" He then pulled the curtain shut as harsh as he could. "Shove that fuckin' hat up your fuckin' arsehole, you 'ear me?"

He then turned around again and jumped once more when his eyes landed on your form.

"Fuck me! Fuckin' 'ell, again?!

"How long have you been standing there, love?" He continued.

"Long enough... look, I don't really care about what you, uhh, were on about." You confessed as you tilted your head to the side, eyes fixed on the stall behind him. "I just... need the toilet so, if you don't mind..."

"Oh, of course." 

He moved to the side, allowing you to finally gain access to the room you'd been needing for a while now.

You immediately wasted no time in rushing right inside, closing the door behind you and locking it before you went about your business.

Once you were done, you cleaned up and washed your hands before stepping out of the stall with a relieved sigh.

Now, you had two options here. You could either, a, go back to the carriage you came from - or, b, explore the train a little so that you could detect anything that may be able to help you in your quest.

On one hand, if you explored the train, you could stumble upon the perfect solution to your problem. On the other hand, this was a train filled to the brim with assassins that weren't opposed to killing you to get that one silver briefcase. You were too out of practice to risk it so, going back to your seat it was.

With a little sigh, you headed off - footsteps lighter than before as a sense of calm fell over you.

That sense of calm, however, was soon to be overridden by pure shock as soon as you entered a certain carriage containing a bar filled to the brink with alcoholic beverages and two people stood by the dead body of The Wolf.

"Oh shit." You whispered. "Wrong way."

Who was it that you stumbled across? Well, the very Diesel herself, The Prince.

The Prince narrowed her eyes at you before she turned to Kimura and ordered, "kill her."

"Are you fucking crazy?!" The Japanese man widened his eyes in disbelief.

"I don't suppose you want your son dying, do you?" 

The way she said the words so nonchalantly was enough to send a shiver straight down your spine. Seeing her in the movie was unsettling enough but seeing her act this way in real life? Damn, Joey King did an amazing job.

You couldn't spend too long praising the actress, however, as soon, the barrel of a gun was pointed directly at your head and Kimura was mumbling something with an apologetic look on his face. He was saying sorry in Japanese.

Ah shit.

Quick to react, you bent over backwards just as he pushed down on the lever of his gun - simultaneously causing a loud 'bang!' to reverbrate through the room.

The bullet managed to just barely graze your stomach, forming a cut which leaked red.

"Hm, interesting." You couldn't see her face but judging by her tone and whatshe just said, she was intrigued. "Are you one of the assassins the White Death hired?" 

You chose not to respond - instead opting to flick your feet upwards and collide your heels against Kimura's hand, kicking the gun out of his grasp and sending it flying through the air. You then used the momentum to flip upright once more, one hand reaching up to your hat to help stabilise it again.

Crouching down, your fingers stretched outwards, grazing the handle of the gun before flinching back as your heart beat picked up its speed.

Now was not the time for a mental breakdown.

With that thought it mind, your feet pushed your body up once more before you swiftly turned on your heel and made your way out of the carriage, gone just like the wind.

You rushed down the right way this time, eyes barely present in real time as they flashed through the events that just occurred to you.

You just had an encounter with The Prince and Kimura - and you were lucky that it was them and not The Hornet.

The Prince had no combat capabilities whereas Kimura was well-versed in it but had enough morale to not attack you back there.

You were so lucky to have run into those two of all the people you could've ran into.

"Note to self: be more cautious of the layout of the train." 

Soon, you stepped through the automatic doors that led to your carriage and, not too long after that, your eyes landed on two forms - one of which was caught in a headlock by the other.

This was the Ladybug and Lemon fight scene.

And it seemed like it was just coming to an end judging by how Ladybug was able to thrust his legs into the seat opposite him, escape Lemon's grasp and then grab his laptop and smash it against his head, instantly knocking him out.

It all happened so much more swiftly than it was depicted in the movie and you had to blink twice before properly processing what had just happened.

When you tuned back in to the world, you witnessed Ladybug adding the powdered substance to the Fiji water near Lemon and decided to approach.

"Woah, what are you doing man?"

Slowly, his gaze trailed upwards and his eyes landed on your form before they slightly grew in size.

"It's not what it looks like? Actually, it's probably exactly what it looks like."

A glint of amusement shone in your eyes as your lips twitched upwards. In order to fight back the smile that was inching onto your face, you had to take in a huge gulp of air before letting it out after holding it in for a few seconds.

Once you regained your cool, you continued speaking. "It seems like the tables have turned."

He gave you his own smile, sheepish and clumsy; full of awareness of the fact that he was just caught red-handed.

"So, what are you doing, big guy?" You asked, amusement laced in your tone.

"Look, I'm just trying to survive, okay, lady?" 

"I have a name y'know? It's Y/N."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." He nodded in acknowledgement. "I'm Ladybug."

You already knew that but-

"Nice to meet you too."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to take a call." He took the cartridge out of the gun in his hands, eyes zoomed straight in on it.

"What are you doing with that gun?"

"Not keeping it for later use, that's for sure." He gave you a pointed look as he stashed the gun on the shelves at the top of the train.

"Touché." 

You then watched as he took Lemon's phone and used face ID to unlock it. Stupid that it worked even though the owner was unconscious but whatever.

After he checked the texts on the phone, he left in an abrupt panic - no doubt having seen Tangerine's texts informing Lemon that he was on his way.

That left you with Lemon's unconscious body laid against the table.

Now, you would slap him to get him to wake up but then he would immediately slap you back and you weren't too keen on getting slapped by a male with ten times your muscle mass. So, you simply stood there, one hand up to your chin with a half-contemplating, half-concerned expression on your face.

It was then that you heard footsteps to your side. You knew who it was so you didn't bother looking over, choosing, instead, to simply say, "he's only unconscious - not dead."

Tangerine rushed over, grabbing his brother's chin and lifting his head to observe his injuries. "Jesus Christ, he's 'ad a bit of a bosh, 'asn't 'e?"

His eyes then turned to you before slowly trailing downwards and landing on your abdomen.

You rose a brow. "What are you-?"

Before you could even react, he was no longer beside his brother and the sudden feeling of his rough, calloused hands against your own bare skin had your own gaze falling down as you caught sight of your newly-attained cut.

Oh right, you forgot about that.

"What 'appened?" He asked without straying his gaze from the slit in your clothes.

You were about to respond but winced instead when he pressed down further on the wound. He then slowly removed his fingers and you saw the blood that coated them; your blood.

"I, uhh, just fell on a really sharp rail, that's all." You dismissed his concerns.

"A really sharp rail? It must've been sharp enough to cut a fuckin' dick off, dahlin', 'cause that's a deep cut."

"It's not that deep."

The look he gave you after your words was the same look your sister gave you before you set off to work; the look that told you that they found what you just said utterly ridiculous.

He then guided you towards a seat, gently having you sit down before facing him as he crouched down - observing the wound with squinted eyes. 

Meanwhile, you held in your breath at the close proximity, hyper-aware of the fact that his hands were firmly clasped around either side of your waist, holding you with a sense of care running across his fingertips; a sense of care which prevented him from harming you. Just the thought that a guy like this, someone known for his aggressive demeanour and bad temperament, could handle someone like you, someone who he just met, with such gentleness was enough to cause your stomach to flutter.

You watched as he took out a handkerchief from his inner pocket, rapidly striking it through the air several times before carefully moving it over your stomach and pressing down a little too hard.

"Ack!"

"Ah shit." He cussed. "Sorry, love."

You just bit your lip and nodded.

After a few more pats against your skin, he pulled the cloth away.

It was clean, yes, but it wasn't covered - no bandaid to barricade the bood inside your skin or alcohol used to fully sterilise it. But, to be completely honest, you were just lucky that he cared enough to even treat your wound in the first place. He was an assassin, not a medic for crying out loud.

"Thank you." You breathed out, voice barely even a whisper.

He looked up, lips merely millimetres from your own as his breath mixed in with your and the hair that rested atop his upper lip just barely tingled against your skin.

If you moved even a little bit closer, your lips would meet.

Unfortunately, the moment was ruined after he pulled away and cleared his throat, a tiny hint of red on his cheeks. "Yeah, well, I'd be a right dickhead to ignore a lady's wounds like that."

You pouted - he was a right dickhead for pulling away like that. What a tease.

He then parted with a brisk nod of his head, on his way to go find Ladybug if you remembered correctly. Too bad he wouldn't be able to after the male pays another guy to wear his hat and deceive the assassin.

You heaved out a sigh before leaning backwards, back falling against the window seat as your gaze shifted to the roof, eyes half-lidded in contemplation. Now that you relieved yourself and got away from The Prince and Kimura, you should finalise your plan to save Tangerine.

The scene just before his death shows him discovering the 'dead' body of his brother before receiving a threatening call for the nth time from his employer, causing him to grow agitated even further than before. This would make it so that if you wanted to stall him from finding The Prince, you would risk causing him even further annoyance and cause his feelings for you, whatever they were, to turn into utter loathing. Now, you wished you could say you didn't care so long as he survived but that wouldn't be true at all. You cared; very much so. He was your favourite character, after all - why wouldn't you care about how he felt for you?

You supposed you could stall Ladybug instead? Yeah, that could work.

But 'could' isn't sure enough. It's a word that implies whatever it's referring to has a possibility of working; you couldn't afford possibilities, you could only afford a hundred percent chances of working.

Just then, your hat shifted a little on your head and, with it, came the feeling of cold metal sliding down.

Your eyes lit up as an idea came to mind.

That's right! Your unloaded gun! As a back-up plan, you could swap out your gun for Tangerine's - that way you knew for sure he wouldn't be able to be shot in a tangle with Ladybug.

The only problem with that plan, though, was that the both of you had two different models of guns; he had a revolver whereas you had a pistol. How was he not going to notice the difference?

If you were lucky, the hysteria he goes into after finding his brother's dead body would be enough to cloud his judgement and you could slip the gun in grasp no problem.

You just needed to hope he wouldn't notice - at least, not until they actually pulled the trigger and nothing went off.

You let out another sigh and, quite abruptly, you felt something brush against your legs as a breeze flew over your form; forcing you to sit up in order to see what the cause of it was. You then caught sight of blonde hair disappearing down the carriage - blonde hair no longer covered by a grey hat. It's not too long after that you turn your head in the opposite direction after hearing the automatic doors open and reveal the frustrated form of Tangerine.

His brows were furrowed and one of his arms was covered by his suit draped over it. His previously slicked-back hair was now messier than before, giving him more of a roguish look. 

There was no doubt in your mind that your eyes turned into huge hearts as you gazed at him, lips pulling upwards into a large, dreamy smile that you were quite lucky he took no notice of - instead, making a bee-line towards his brother and slapping him awake while also earning himself, as you recalled, a slap straight back.

Tangerine then took a seat beside the broader male before raising one of his hands and rubbing it under his nose to check for blood. After confirming there wasn't any, he gave Lemon the side-eye before saying, "there 'e is."

"He got by me."

"Yeah, me too... I guess our best option now is, uhh, bring the White Death the man who killed 'is son."

Lemon turned to the other male, shaking his head. "Yeah, but glasses didn't do it."

You would've loved to continue watching their banter (those scenes were actually among your favourite ones in the movie) but a thought occurred to you; a thought which caused your whole form to freeze up and a chill to go down your spine.

When Tangerine went towards the carriage Ladybug was in, he discovered a bunch of suitcases blocking his way - forcing him to shoot them through a Momonga teddy so that he could get through without alerting passengers. When he did this, he released the Boomslang snake - the very snake whose fangs contained the venom that caused the death of the White Death's son. And now, that deadly thing was let loose in the train to freely roam and bite whoever it wanted.

Great, now on top of your quest to save your favourite character, you had to also look out for a dangerous snake that could take your life.

You let out a sigh before tuning back into reality, noticing Tangerine's form sat opposite and facing his brother on the other set of seats.

"We need to find that glasses twat like right-to-the-fuck now." He scoffed before letting out a long, drawn-out groan. "I'm gonna go up, you go down. Double back when you're done. If you see him, fuckin' deal with him, yeah?"

Ah, so they just 'tricked' the White Death's men at the station you just passed into thinking his son was alive, huh?

The both of the brothers looked from side-to-side before Tangerine said, "up is..?"

"That way." Lemon deadpanned before jutting his thumb in the direction towards the front of the train.

You watched as they both abruptly got up before Lemon started speaking once more.

"And look, be careful," you could barely control the smile trying to fight its way onto your face at the Lemon showed his brother, "something else is going on 'ere."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I still feel like there's a Diesel lurkin' about." Lemon looked from side-to-side.

"Swear to God, what'd I say?" Tangerine drew his brother's attention back towards him before repeating, "what'd I say? I said I'd fucki-"

"-shoot me in the face." His brother finished for him.

"Yeah, that's right."

"Thomas still taught me how to see people, read 'em for real."

"Yeah..."

"And I'm never wrong, am I?"

Your favourite character's gaze drifts to the side. "No."

"Glasses, he is not our guy."

"...okay." 

Tangerine didn't understand what his brother was on about now but you knew he would later find out exactly what he meant after coming face-to-face with The Prince.

You then witnessed your favourite assassin hand a gun to his brother. "Shoot first, come up with the answers la'er."

"Always do."

Lemon then took off, heading down the carriage before his brother called out to him again.

"Lemon."

"Yeah, man?"

"You be careful too."

The male with silver hair sent a wink his brother's way before continuing once more.

The moment brought you back to a time where you worried for your own sister's life after one particular job; a job which, for once, took away all of your carefree nature and replaced with an anxiety-ridden individual who couldn't even hold a weapon without shaking to the core. 

But... that was all irrelevant now. Your sister wasn't here and neither were you the person you once were back then.

So, with that thought in mind, you called out towards Tangerine - causing the male to turn your way with a raised brow.

"You're going towards the front of the train, right? Can I tag along? I'm feeling a little peckish right now and all the snack are at the front." You gave him a sheepish smile, one hand going to scratch the back of your head.

"Yeah, sure, why not?" He nodded, giving a little gesture with his finger before he began to walk.

You walked straight behind him, a smile showcasing all your joy spread right across your face.

"Hey, Tangerine?"

"Yes, love?" He gave a quick glance over his shoulder.

"You're such a gentleman, thank you for accompanying me." Your smile shined brighter, excitement from being with your favourite character seeping into your tone and into the hop in your step.

He sent you a soft look before nodding. "Of course, dahlin'. Can't leave a pretty lady like yourself alone, can I?"

He thought you were pretty...?

Your favourite character thought you were pretty?!

Did you die and get sent straight to heaven?

Uhh, well, maybe you could've?

No, wait, that was impossible. You'd done too much to go there.

"You're quite the looker yourself, y'know?"

He looked over his shoulder once again to send you a sly smirk. "That so?"

Suddenly, the intense look in his eye, partnered with that smirk he gave you, was enough for all of your confidence to flush down the drain as your gaze trailed to the side - unable to cope with the eye-contact.

"Oh, 'ere we are." His words caused you to look up and see that you were, indeed, where he wished to be. "I've got to stay here, dahlin', but the next carriage should be the snack one."

You gave him a brief nod before choosing to walk passed him, about to enter the next carriage before you casted one last glance over your shoulder to see his easy-going look had turned back into his agitated one as he faced the toilet.

Once you were in the carriage, you waited a little bit before you saw a certain blonde man enter after you. After he saw your form, however, he swerved behind you and peered over your shoulder.

It wasn't too long after that the brown-haired male emerged from the same door with a furious look on his face.

Ah, so you were being used as a hiding place?

Very well.

Tangerine's eyes laid on your form before they trailed behind you and landed on the other. After he saw his target, he took in a large amount of air through his nose.

"Look, love, I usually don't hit ladies but I won't fucking hesitate because I, for one, wanna keep my fucking limbs intact and I won't be able to if I don't get that fuckin' briefcase." The tall male glared down at you, pure rage boiling in his gaze, ready to spill over any second.

"Wow," Ladybug's voice chimed from behind you, "you'd hit a lady? That's a low blow, dude. Even for you."

"You fucking bastard." Scoffed the male with slicked-back brown hair in front of you, glaring at the blonde behind you with an intensity so harsh - you were sure that he would be a million feet under if looks could kill.

"Look," you raised both of your hands up as a small, nervous smile made its way onto your lips, "how about we settle this peacefully, yeah? I'm sure we can all talk this out."

"I agree with her." Ladybug piped in.

Then, Tangerine started slowly strutting over to you - facial expression shifting from the angered one he usually wore to a more neutral one you rarely got to see on him in the movie.

As he approached, you could feel your heart beat start to pick up both in pace and in volume - butterflies beginning to flutter around in your stomach with adamance.

Dammit, was now really the time for your stupid crush on him to be acting up?

Soon, he was stood right in front of you, face a mere centimetre away from your own.

And then, one of his hands rose up from his side, gradually approaching your face as two of his fingers extended out of his fist and slowly placed themselves under your chin; tilting your head up and causing a hitch in your breath.

"Love," he spoke quietly, calmly and in the smoothest voice you have ever had the pleasure of hearing. "Move aside and let me kill that fucking arsehole."

His breath mixing in with yours as the hair on his upper lip grazed your skin (for the second time that day) flustered you enough for you to pull out of his grasp and hide your head in your hands, hunching over slightly to do so. 

Fortunately for him, that slight hunch over was just what he needed to sock Ladybug right in the face.

"Agh! Fuck!"

And with that, their brawl continued.

Meanwhile, you decided to fully crouch down and shrivel in on yourself - too flustered to even think to stop the fight.

"Wait wait wait! I know who killed the kid!"

"I couldn't give a rat's arse, where's my fuckin' case?!"

They rolled carts straight into each other, hitting one another in the gut before grabbing jars and preparing to throw them at one another.

They both paused, however, when they heard the sound of the automatic door opening as a member of staff stepped in with a cart full of food.

After a moment of silence, you heard the woman ask if they wanted anything in Japanese.

"Oh no thank you, we're okay." Tangerine dismissed her with a little strained smile. 

"Oh I would love a bottle of water." Ladybug requested.

You felt a small smile crawl onto your face as you remembered the incredulous look Tangerine sent him after that sentence - no doubt finding it utterly ridiculous that he would ask for water in the middle of a fight.

"You know what? Do you have, uhh, anything sparkling? With bubbles?"

You heard glass clang as she rummaged through for exactly what he wanted.

"That's the one, thank you." And he proceeded to say 'arigato' in the worst-sounding Japanese you had ever heard in your life. "Bro, I just remembered I gave all my money to that guy to wear my hat and glasses."

Tangerine then let out a sigh, giving Ladybug a look that made you giggle as you peered through from your position.

"How much for the bo'le of wa'er, love?" He asked before she responded with a number and he gave her the money. "Yeah, no, your welcome. A thousand yen, that's ten quid for that bo'le of wa'er, mate."

She then proceeded to leave as Ladybug drank his newly-attained drink and you giggled some more.

"You sure you don't wanna talk this out?" He asked Tangerine to which he responded with-

"Not particularly, no."

"Okay."

He then swung the bottle straight at the other assassin, aiming straight for his head as it hurdled through the air. Before it could land, though, you shot up from your position on the ground, fingers lacing around the bottle and just about stopping it from hitting the man.

"Not," you said, "the face."

Tangerine gave you an appreciative look, which totally didn't make you squeal on the spot, before his expression shifted into one of pure rage and he charged at Ladybug, yelling cusses as he pushed him into the next carriage.

Meanwhile, you let out a sigh of relief. Well done you for saving the handsome facial features of ATJ.

Before you could wallow in anymore praises however, your eyes caught something moving in your peripheral.

Was that... the Boomslang snake?!

You screamed, rushing onto the other carriage and clinging onto Tangerine while he was in the midst of choking Ladybug.

Unfortunately, you had done this at the wrong time because it happened to be the moment where Ladybug hit the emergency button with his leg so that he could escape the grasp of the handsome assassin; the emergency button which caused the door to be ripped off the train, sending the three of you flying straight outside of it through the sheer suction of the wind.

And so now, here you were, clinging onto Tangerine's waist for dear life as you hung off the side of the train - the wind like blades against your skin.

Well, this was quite the predicament.

Tangerine says things he doesn't mean so don't take it to heart when he said he wouldn't hesitate to hurt you. He would do way more than hesitate.

Previous Act | Next Act

[blankdblank]

Protego Pt 2 - Introductions

Continuing the Protego Miniseries. 

Do let me know how you like the changes and if you’d want to be tagged. :)

Pt 1 - Origin of Magic

*.*.*

The Snapes.

Downwind from a foul smelling mill nearby to a polluted river little Snape again found himself crouched inside a rotating tunnel built into the jungle gym on the playground in the park by his home. Somehow thunder overhead, while terrifying in itself, paled in comparison to how his parents’ contemptuous behavior made his heart pound in fright. And just like the wind to vanish and suddenly appear, one of his two red headed anchors appeared at his side. Not the one his heart yearned to belong to, who he feared to ever show this side to, but to a confusing diamond in the rough he equally never wished to be parted from.

Identical to a T in appearance alone the fiery tempered young girl who seemed as troubled as him inside adamantly seemed at odds with her picture perfect life. Shivering to the next explosion of thunder and lightning Severus glanced at his trembling friend he scooted a bit closer to, making use of his poorly sized clothes to share his tent of an outer coat which always seemed to do the trick. “Did your parents bake you too many pies?” he asked sarcastically, his only way to vent his confusion and frustration at her for why she had been recently talking about not wanting to go back to her parents’ haven of an abode.

“I had the dream again,” she whispered frailly on the cusp of tears. Stopping as she regretted saying even that much.

Her tone alone had him shift a bit closer and turn his head to look at her as face on as possible to ask in seer concern, “What dream?” She simply shook her head, now with tears pooling into her pink eyes he’d neglected to notice having not looked her way until now. “Tell me. You and Lily never expand on dream when it comes up.”

The force in his gaze was unnecessary as she simply finally felt herself ready to share this truth with him in particular. “I keep seeing this woman, she’s trapped, and alone,” a tear broke loose and before she could help it she had leaned into the hand of his that rose to wipe it away. A move that had him halt in his tracks, uncertain if like him she had been neglected of family contact and sought this clear innocent trusting comfort from him, someone who would understand having parents who truly didn’t care if he lived or died. Yet she straightened up and sniffled hard to keep from the failing means to stop a second tear and third soon to follow while she squeaked out, “She looks-,” her voice cracked and down into her propped up knees and legs now folding up to press to her chest her head burrowed to hide her face urging him in to loop an arm around her back and a hand on her shins to coax her out again.

“Looks what? Like what? Is she hurt?”

“Like me,” she squawked out in a pop of her head up if only to clasp hands over her mouth she felt his fight to pull away in the emergence of a beak out of her teeth and lips and blood red shade to cover the whites of her eyes now with golden pupils. Again she burrowed her head into her knees, clearly frightened of scaring him away. Pain, so he’d read often mingled in sadness came with the occasional rage, something he could attest to and now guessed that was why she was trembling, in rage and not fear. Though surely now that had faded as he heard her squeak out frightfully soft, “What if my parents lock me away too?”

Right away he folded around her as if the action could be a shield against that possibility to last for years to come until she was able to choose herself in legal age on what to do. “I heard them, they found me on a walk.” His eyes he had been clenching so tightly to enforce the wishful intentions snapped open in shock to let a tear of his own fall. “Like magic, they said, to, someone on the phone. That’s why, they don’t know what to do or say, when it happens, when I get angry. They treat it like it’s some sort of trick.” Sharply she drew in a breath to assure him, “No matter what, I swear I won’t hurt you.”

“I know,” he whispered back in reply and as she nodded he eased her back into his side uncertain of what else to say. She wasn’t his love’s twin, merely made to look like her, again most likely out of fear. She was one of his anchors and now he felt a stab deep in his chest she had never shown him her true self, shared her fears and nightmares when always when he had his own she would appear to console him. Now he knew, and now he would work hard to prove that she could trust him with anything, and he would never harm her in return for the oath she had given to him.

*.*.*

The Evans.

Petunia Evans, daughter of a well respected couple, skipping at the side of the pram they pushed. All four lost to the bliss of their vacation and tour of the countryside they chose to vacation in. Passed beyond a veil somehow the sight of an infant, the same age as their youngest, held in the arms of a rather cross Nun. Inclusion of this out of place orphanage dulled this quaint town. Right through the bars an ache stirred. Parents of two daughters just moments ago would within the chime of the next hour have three.

A child found as if by magic. One Petunia would take solace in also being the lesser favorite of their begrudging and obstinate Great Aunt Gertrude who would impose herself and her opinions upon the Evans household whenever possible. Petunia never seemed to find out what the woman wanted from her exactly. Not like Lily. But this new sister soon would draw a special strain of reluctance from their guest. When she would throw her first tantrum and sprout a beak in doing so.

A shape shifter. A mimic. A freak. That last word slipped out when she was alone, but how her sister acted after that she had heard it being muttered from her older sister who didn’t like being mimicked. “I’m sorry,” Petunia repeated until it just about made her throat bleed for weeks when she got the chance. She didn’t want to hurt Jewels’ feelings, but no one in the family knew just what to make of this and school would start soon. So the youngest girl would have to do something about her ever changing appearance.

.

She wasn’t a freak. Could she be? How would she know? Jewelia Rose Evans, commonly called Jewels. A rarity in their little garden patch surrounded cottage haven. A child with eyes that dead on were a deep purple that from the side like a mystical creature appeared neon green.

A child inexplicably able to morph her hair and face and body to whatever she desired. Or one uncontrollable appearance when in a quick fit of rage. And she desired to not have her older sister call her a freak. So, like the beloved Lily she molded herself. To don steady brilliant green eyes and crimson hair, and still the chanted word persisted. This time from others who could sense something was off about the youngest girl hiding behind another’s face while not solely in the company of family.

In every hiss she whispered to the garden snakes in their garden she got to agree to keep from harming Mrs Evans. In every blossom she and Lily helped to return to full bloom. Freak would echo and sting, and burn like an acid that no one could scrub off of their skin and hearts. All she could the eldest sister tried to step in where possible, especially now the nightmares were growing more frequent and her baby sister was never a day without pretending she hadn’t woken hours before she should and wasn’t able to go back to sleep. Something was wrong, even safe at home Petunia saw that Jewels was scared of what was happening to her, so she tried to help. She wouldn’t let her mimic her, but she could offer simple distractions and copies of magazines borrowed from her own friends in school to fawn over. Small things, distractions really, all the young teen was capable of scouring up off her own imagination.

.

Eleven years would fly by and those sisters, close as any, now faced division like no other. Coming in the form of two letters, just two, not three.

“How wonderful, isn’t it, to have two Witches in the family?!”

They loved their elder sister and cheered her on in every endeavor, as they would even from afar. Both found solace with the Half-Blood boy from down the lane. Who shared the moniker of Freak on top of a house of pain to hide from.

Together the trio shared all the magical things. A world their cherished Petunia would always, to them, wrongfully be forbidden.

*.*.*

Toujours Pur. The words etched beneath The Black Family crest.

The most distinguished and expansive line descended from Salazaar Slytherin, the grey bearded Wizard beyond compare. With eyes just as distinguishable, a deep violet dead on and emerald from the side that had darkened in beauty and knowledge as he had aged.

This line bore its own fabled other-worldliness in the deepest records of its elders. Major Ursa Black, fabled Warrior of old and Keeper of the Stars. Every generation must have one. One to always be looking up and in his esteemed legacy was noted to have become a star in his passing.

Thus beginning the tradition of naming his heirs after stars, with whom all could hear and converse with when focused. Night or day through their blood bond their ancestors could always conference with the youngest of their line for guidance, and through the stars pass on the path to their nearest of kin for aid.

Sirius and Regulus had those words drilled into their heads between lessons. Always pure. Always busy. Always in language lessons, instrument lessons, gymnastics, botany lessons, classical dance lessons. Always, something. Never enough and pushed to achieve more than their parents.

Parents, Walburga and Orion, in a strive to inherit more when their patriarch passed, first cousins raised similar to siblings wed and conceived twice to a far from loving home, that in early days of their union had moved to the dark Grimmauld Place. One of numerous properties within the Black Family line, each magically linked to the coveted unplottable Black Family Mansion. A home the cousins’ parents, and they themselves by the birth of their second son, desired more than anything. Tucked safe in the top of far distant mountains that none could climb or pass over without coming to a grizzly end to protect the hidden haven. Every angle gave clear view of those treasured stars. Up where their ancestors rested for all eternity.

Sirius came to Hogwarts first, and by internal grudge of his silver spoon placed in his hand at birth always felt some kind of failure coming on. Expectations that high only gave way to such feelings of falling short. Failure felt imminent, and for all he could shake free of hope had been scooted towards his younger brother’s plate that Regulus could remain the golden son. Is Sirius failed perhaps Regulus could make them proud and until he found his footing later on in life Sirius could bear the scorn and outrage as long as his baby brother was free of this crushing weight.

Out of all the heaviest expectations this teen didn’t want to be proper. Freedom was ached for. Freedom of those born without such a name to live up to. Even his name was one worn by an elder generations ago. School at least granted something close to space to find himself. Find himself and show who he could truly grow to be. Pranks here and there had begun to lure a few sideways glances from his elders at the moment, a trait they hoped to be grown out of. Wild hair snipped off at the root to hold the line and brunt of the male family line. Once his prankster exterior was shown to not be his only side. But beyond his name and assumed failure who he would grow to be would stun even himself.

No matter the tries to hide it from the world a war was coming. People would have to choose their sides. And against everything burning in him to stupidly run head first at the first chance for a fight, something more important would offer him an impossible choice. One impossible choice of many he would tackle.

Who he should be. Who he wanted to be. And who those he loves would need him to be. His world, this world was about to change into something none had seen before. One to break him and his family, both chosen and blood born, in ways beyond repair.

 *.*.*

The Potters.

One of the Sacred 28 families, equaled by few in wealth and stature amongst Wizarding Britain, now had one heir. Born late in life to his parents, James Potter stood a beacon of hope for their line to continue.

So proud, so vain, so entitled for all he had been given and was assumed destined to achieve. Given all he could ever desire and more. To bring the most relevant aspects of his personality would be scraped out of the four losing children in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Competitive to an unbearable degree, even when no rival had placed itself front and center. Ruthlessly he would strive after the self imposed goal and no bridge would be free of smoldering embers on the scorching path to victory. He saw who he wanted. The one goal of his lifetime was to snag a crimson haired Witch of his own, as only a fiery haired Witch could match his prowess of his insurmountable ego. Fiery red hair many a Wizard attributed to powerful Witches of the highest degree. Only a Witch like that would be one he would wed and bed to carry his expected heir. He would find his wife, make himself the best prize around, and get her to accept his offer of being the one he chose as a wife. Many would see the smug devastation dealt out in conquest of his prize, to the dismay of said prize herself and all around her.

Brashness to the level of rudeness to state his point of view, refusing any chance of accepting propriety and terms of politeness to keep at least publicly from ruffling more feathers than be required. This was where the heir of the family name let his elders down the most. Scoffing at tradition and embarrassing those of his assumed peers of class in their so diligent tries to uphold their own family names and public terms of conduct.

Gluttony and greed out of all soured the boy the deepest. Not of food but of frivolous non-lasting things. Son to an elderly Wizard who aimed so highly in pleasing and keeping this late born son to his favor was so ridiculously spoiled beyond acceptable grounds. Age had severed the need for tantrums, yet the teen was not above aiming for blackmail or the silent treatment and puppy dog tears to get what he wanted.

The father had in not so many words dropped the Quaffle time and time again, and in so doing might as well be tiptoeing in a minefield of balloons the boy ordered him not to pop for how infrequently a foot was put down to drive a lesson home. Change was possible, and if anyone could guide that ship home it was Mrs Potter. Rule maker and not afraid to even give a stern talking to aimed at her own husband to shake up his backbone into working order again. But with her came the mask the boy learned. One parent against the other. One to stiffen up in front of and pretend to do his part, while with the other he could be a little tyrant and drive the other Pure-Blooded Sacred 28 children to wishing there were some green haired little orange skinned Oompa Loompa’s to come round the corner and shove Potter down the garbage shoot to humble his ego.

Change could happen. More than possible. Any number of things could drive a wedge in any child’s fondest habits and sever ties to who they could have been at any given moment. And the best place for said change would come in the shaping of minds. Imposition of schedules to lessen free time. Rules and expectation of a higher degree.

Who did they want to be?

How hard were they willing to work to get there?

Questions aimed to push the laziest of dilly-dallying dimwits into gear to strive for who their future selves could be.

Any number of things could happen within the borders of Hogwarts. Not all of them pretty or fair. But in certainty, for their next seven years a great many things would most certainly happen to this fate entangled lot.

..

(Link to new chapters on ao3 ~here~) 

or

Pt 3 on Tumblr with no new chapters :(

[patheticbatman]

Part Two

I’m very proud of these dolls, and I’m also leaving them at my parents’ house, so I did a little photoshoot with some books as background so I can have nice pictures of them.

This is the second post, so check out the first for more info!

First up we have Pocahontas (real name Matoaka) with Elatsoe, by Darcie Little Badger. It’s a why-dunnit, not a who-dunnit, about a Lipan Apache girl who has some serious ghost powers. Pocahontas was a tough one, but I decided to go with a book I love about a modern Lipan Apache (Indigenous) girl, written by a modern Lipan Apache (Indigenous) woman. I know a lot of people have strong feelings on both the real life Matoaka and the cartoon Pocahontas, and how she symbolizes a lot of sad and terrible changes for Turtle Island. So I thought putting the doll and this book together would provide an interesting contrast, one that the real life Matoaka may find horribly interesting.

Second is Esmeralda with At Night All Blood Is Black, by David Diop (the French title means Soul Brother - I believe that the title is a play on the English Idiom, At Night All Cats Are Grey, meaning you cannot see meaningful differences in the right circumstances). It’s a very interesting though sorrowful novel about a Senegalese Tirailleur (Infantryman) who was sent to France during WWI. I don’t think Esmeralda would read this normally, but if she was in a sad mood, I think the theme of fluctuating humanity during conflict, and being a Person of Color in France (even centuries later!) would interest her.

Third up is Mulan with Lady of Ch’iao Kuo: Warrior of the South, by Laurence Yep. When I drew pictures for Mulan’s poem (years ago now!) I headcanoned in my explanation that Mulan and Lady Xian, princess of the Li Xian people in modern day Guangdong, were close enough in history that they *might* have met and been friendly. Mulan is typically from further North and West than Guangdong, and would be part of the colonizing side in this case sadly, but I feel like they would respect each other as fellow powerful women.

Fourth is Melody (Ariel’s daughter) with A Song Below Water, by Bethany C. Morrow. I think she’d go into the book with certain expectations, like I did, about the plot, and then get drawn in by the real story. Let’s just say the cover gave me assumptions that lead to a great twist for me personally. Also, I think Melody would relate to the mystery of her magical parent’s true background. The book celebrates the lesser known fantasy species, and approaches the danger of traffic stops, police brutality and protesting for Black people, and how that intersects with being a woman, with care and love. If they ever make a live action Little Mermaid 2, I feel like that would also speak to Melody.

Fifth is Kida with The Ones We’re Meant To Find, by Joan He. Kida is from a fantasy ancient civilization, and this book depicts a sci-fi futuristic one, but there’s more similarities than one might initially think. Both exist due to the hubris of humanity, and in reaction to serious pollution topside. And both explore (or at least mention) a relationship between two women separated by the change in their civilization, and with a boy who seems to know too much. I’m not sure Kida would necessarily read this story, aside from its attractive and exotic (to her, at least) take on the world above, which she has not seen for millennia, but this story is similar enough to Kida’s movie that I felt it fell under the adaption category instead.

Sixth is Jane (from Peter Pan 2, Wendy’s daughter) with Peter Pan on Scarlet, by Geraldine McCaughrean. The Disney movie is NOT based on this book, but both do mention Wendy’s family being affected by a World War, though this one has WWI and the movie has WWII. Interestingly, both have a sympathetic Hook initially. ‘Twas a lovely read, and in my opinion matched the original book based on the play.

Seventh is Giselle with The Wind in the Willow, by Kenneth Grahame. I just felt Giselle would enjoy the idea of cute talking animals (but not so much the war storylines of Redwall) so I put her with this book.

Eighth is Tiana (<3) with Wildwood Dancing, by Juliet Marillier. Funnily enough, I do actually have the *sequel* to the book her movie was based off of, but I’ve never read the original, so I decided it doesn’t count. But this is my favorite mixed up fairy tale novel that features a Frog Prince storyline, so I went with it. The villain is also a greedy butt who doesn’t care for his own people, and the protagonist is often underestimated, due to her appearance and gender. In any case, I love this book so much that I illustrated the first chapter, lol.

Ninth is Rapunzel with Rapunzel’s Revenge, by Shannon, Dean and Nathan Hale. I loved this adaption since I was a kid (honestly more than Tangled) and I’m pleased to finally own it.

Last is Merida, with The Edge on the Sword, by Rebecca Tingle. The book is about a warrior princess a thousand years ago in what is England today, with a forced engagement storyline, so I figured this would be right up Merida’s alley.

Part One

Part Three

Part Four

[midnightrooftops]

How the FUCK did Yoichi know to pass on his quirk?

But also, how the FUCK did AFO know to hunt down OFA users?

Because, if we believe the story we've been told, Yoichi had a useless, undetectable quirk neither brother knew about. And then AFO gave Yoichi a simple stockpiling quirk (just cause, lol). How do those two things imply that a quirk is transferable and/or that it's /worth/ transferring (or, in AFO's case, worth stopping a transfer).

So no, I don't believe the brothers were unaware of Yoichi's natural quirk (one of them had to know, either Yoichi and kept it from AFO, or AFO found it through his own quirk and kept it from Yoichi, or they both knew and they're both lying)

The users talk about OFA as if it's a secret weapon that's been tossed from solder to solder as they fall. But /why/?

I can't stop coming back to the idea that AFO purposefully made OFA. Maybe he didn't set out to make /specifically/ OFA, but I think he gave Yoichi the stockpiling quirk with every intention of seeing what would happen or because he thought for whatever reason, it would IMPROVE by giving it to his brother. But then, he finds out that he can't take the quirk back. And thus, the weapon AFO created escapes and he's been hunting it down ever since.

Also, since the origin of OFA is questionable, I think Yoichi's original quirk should be called into question too. What /was/ his actual ability? Because while "the ability to pass on quirks" is related to AFO, it /feels/ like something's missing.

For me, it feels like the ability to pass on quirks does little to explain why AFO gave him a stockpiling quirk. If AFO thought his bro was quirkless, what would a stockpiling quirk /do/?

We're told that OFA is strong bc it's been cultivated from user to user, implying that the strength aspect wasn't so strong before. We know Fourth could break rocks but how strong could Yoichi realistically get?

Idk I just want to learn more about the origin of OFA and I want the brothers' past and I want to KNOW goddammit.

I know I have to reread but now that I"m thinking about it, we never hear AFO's side of the story. Huh.

Anyway, if you want to read the tangents I kept breaking off into, they're below the cut.

Picture this, the story we've been told -

Yoichi knows his brother gave him a stockpiling quirk, pretty useless. But he gets rescued and he's with Second and something happens that makes Yoichi go "man, I wish I could give Second my quirk/power" at the same moment they're holding hands, covered in blood (or kissing, whatever).

So 1 undetectable quirk that allows people to pass on quirks and 1 stockpiling quirk gets passed to Second.

How the fuck does Second /know/ he has a quirk now? Especially if Yoichi does it on accident?

Imagine Second then goes off with Third bc something Tragic happens to Yoichi and Second thinks "I wish I could give Third my power" when they're holding hands covered in blood (or kissing) and now Third has come into possession of 1 (spoiler) quirk, 1 transfer quirk and 1 stockpiling quirk.

Maybe Third accidentally activates Second's quirk (though, was that a /thing/ because activating past users quirks is singularity whereas OFA is essentially just power) so he's like "oh fuck" and on the story goes.

I'm just saying, it doesn't make SENSE for Yoichi to NOT KNOW.

So, how does he know?

Better yet, how does /AFO/ know?

I honestly don't think both AFO and Yoichi thought Yoichi was quirkless. At the very least, one of them knew.

It's likely Yoichi didn't know he had a quirk. We're working with a very unreliable narrator here but we're told he didn't know and it's implied that both his natural quirk and the quirk AFO gave to him that merge to become OFA is initially weak.

More likely, AFO is the one that knew his brother actually had a quirk. It's not farfetched to think he once tried his quirk on his brother, either on accident or purposefully, and he discovered Yoichi had one. Whether he TOLD his brother this, though, remains to be seen. With the way AFO likes to manipulate and, depending on your own theories about his past, he could have never told Yoichi UNTIL he vaults Yoichi or is in a skirmish after Yoichi escapes. Either way, it's AFO that's known the whole time.

Wondering, actually, if AFO wasn't able to take Yoichi's quirk and that's the root of this. Yoichi's quirk is weak, undetectable to anyone but AFO but it's the ONE QUIRK that AFO can't forcibly take. Maybe he vaulted Yoichi until his brother GAVE him the quirk but Yoichi never does. FTR, I don't think this is right. Why /wouldn't/ Yoichi give his brother his quirk? MHA isn't the type of story to be like "it was all because of NOTHING! YOU FOOLS" but an interesting AU idea

Anyway, this explains 1. how Yoichi knows he can pass on his quirks and 2. how AFO knows to hunt the users of OFA down.

Pure speculation time: maybe Yoichi knew he had a quirk but thought he shouldn't use it. Yoichi being groomed by his parents/society to believe that quirks were BAD so he won't use his power but he still loves his "evil" condemned-by-society-for-being-different brother.

What if this whole thing started bc Yoichi refused to give his brother back a quirk that would help bring about quirk rights and then inadvertently sets off a series of events that sets his brother up as a huge villain and also eventually gives two quirkless kids quirks.

Man, I would hate that omg why did I think of that.

[flaming-o-has-no-dough]

The Chainsaw Man Chooseboth Video Post

For a while now I've been trying to get started making YouTube videos so that I can externalize some of my least absurd thoughts and neuroses in a way which could profitably be added to my "Cool Creative Person Résumé"... but, uh, I've been having a hell of a month and a half. So, add to that the facts that a key component of my microphone setup has been cleft in twain and I'm uncomfortable with my voice as it is now, and I think YouTube is officially going on the backburner.

But I have all sorts of thoughts and feelings about the narrative pieces Chainsaw Man Part 2 has been moving around, and I'm so out of touch with the CSM community that for all I know, my thoughts and feelings might even be uncommon. So I didn't want to just completely abandon my plans to externalize them, so... here, you're getting This. Or you can just ignore the button which says

Chainsaw Man is one of my favorite stories of all time. In fact, even if it were just Part 1 alone, I'd put it in my S-Tier of media, alongside Deltarune (presuming future chapters don't disappoint), Everything Everywhere All At Once, Little Miss Sunshine, Picture of Dorian Grey (unless I ever reread it and it's not as good as I remember it being), and, presuming the third movie doesn't disappoint, Spider-Verse.

you can tell i'm a filthy zillennial because only two of the things on that list are from before the 2010s and only one of those is from before the 2000s

Speaking of Spider-Man, I don't read comics because I'm not a nerd.

But I have seen the original three movies, which is a large part of why the first part of CSM Part 2 which really hooked me was Denji's introduction (and I'm saying that as a massive fan of Asa who DOES like her more than I like Denji). And I do consider CSM Part 2 to have a Denji introduction, even though we already know who Denji is, because it immediately sets itself up as separate enough from Part 1 that I think it's worth analyzing as a separate work within the same franchise. And taking the first sequence in Part 2 which contains Denji as a character introduction makes it very interesting if I do say so myself.

For you see, I have watched that one Spider-Man movie which was just called Spider-Man because there weren't a million other ones yet so it didn't need any differentiators. And in that movie, Enemy Of Spider-Man called Green Person, says “Okie dokie now Spider-Man, choose which one to save, hot lady or whatever this is”.

Spider-Man, rather famously, doesn’t do it. Spider-Man chooses both.

Which brings us to Denji's Part 2 Introduction. In Chapter 102 Save the Cat, his enemy whose name I think is also Green Person says “You are a superhero now. That’s what you are now. Okie dokie now choose which one to save, hot dude or whatever this is”.

Denji doesn’t do it, but he doesn’t do it in the wrong way and chooses neither. He titularly saves a cat, hot dude and whatever this is both die.

Then we get a cut directly from a blood-and-gore-covered Denji saying "That choice was stupid, I did the correct thing rather than accepting either option" to a monolithic wall of televisions talking about how great and heroic Denji is. That’s not Spider-Man, that’s like, Homelander or some shit. Like, I wouldn’t be surprised at this point if Denji were a blonde horny manchild.

Basically, that's not how stories introduce their heroes. It's how stories introduce their villains.

So, extrapolating "Denji is the villain of CSM Part 2" to its logical conclusion, I came up with what I'll call the Unbreakable Cycles Theory. I don't want to spend too long explaining that theory because I no longer even think it's correct, so let's just hope you can understand what I mean when I say this:

Part 1: Denji is introduced, and a bizarre and unfortunate inciting incident gives him Devil Powers. -> He saves a girl from the Bat Devil -> He really likes the Control Devil [Makima], but even he can't ignore the fact that she has obvious flaws, too. -> Due to the Eternity Devil being enlisted by one of the major Big Bads, he must break an unbreakable cycle -> A lot of terrible things happen, and in the end, he has no choice but to kill his problematic fave the Control Devil

Part 2: Asa is introduced, and a bizarre and unfortunate inciting incident gives her Devil Powers. -> She saves a girl from the Bat Devil -> She really likes Denji, but even she can't ignore the fact that he has obvious flaws, too. -> Due to the Eternity Devil being enlisted by one of the major Big Bads, she must break an unbreakable cycle -> A lot of terrible things happen, and in the end, she has no choice but to kill her problematic fave Denji

Part 3: The Control Devil [Nayuta? Or a third incarnation?] is introduced, and a bizarre and unfortunate inciting incident occurs, although they already have Devil Powers. -> They save a girl from the Bat Devil -> They really like Asa [possibly non-romantic this time?], but even they can't ignore the fact that she has obvious flaws, too. -> Due to the Eternity Devil being enlisted by one of the major Big Bads, they must break an unbreakable cycle -> A lot of terrible things happen, and in the end, they have no choice to kill their problematic fave Asa (unless they can break the cycle FOR REAL this time, and put an end to the game of Rock-Paper-Scissors/Fire Emblem)

(bolded section is things which have already happened, non-bolded section is a potential extrapolation)

I do think the Unbreakable Cycles Theory is probably wrong, because CSM Part 2 has been playing with so many big moving narrative pieces and thematic ideas, while telling the story from Denji's POV a lot more often than I would have anticipated when making the theory.

Recently, in Chapters 133 and 135 (which, uh, WERE a lot more recent when I was initially making the YouTube version of this post, which was my fifth attempt at making my first YouTube video, if you want an idea of how much fruitless work I've been doing behind the scenes) the thematic relevance of a Spider-Man style Chooseboth moment has resurfaced.

(A direct link is even drawn between choosing both and the peace sign that Denji throws up all the time!)

In a lot of ways, it's become clear that choosing both is a major idea CSM Part 2 is interested in, as well as kind of an intersection between two other major ideas it's interested in, those being Western-comics-style superheroics and duality. Most notable as of right now are the duality between Asa and Yoru, the duality between Chainsaw Man and Chainsaw Man, and the duality between the Asa-Yoru-continuum and Denji.

So, with that third duality in mind, let's revisit Denji's introduction and see what it could be saying which is more complex than just "Denji is a villain this time".

Because Chapter 102 Save the Cat ISN'T just about Denji, it IS about that third duality. It doesn't just establish a worrying lack of empathy on Denji's part, but it in fact does the same for Asa.

And Denji isn’t the only one who condemns a nonzero amount of humans to death by titularly saving a cat in that chapter, either. Nor is he even the only one who immediately gets praised for it. The only reason it didn’t strike me nearly as villainously with Asa is, well… just look at her face. She might as well be saying “That was horrible”.

So, thinking about Chapter 102 Save the Cat as establishing a dynamic between the Asa-Yoru continuum and Denji made me wonder where that dynamic occurs in Chapter 127 Save the Asa. Because in that chapter, it really is only Denji who titularly saves an Asa, as far as I can tell. Even keeping the double meaning in mind where "asa" is also the word for "day" doesn't seem to change this.

There is, to be sure, a parallel to be found in this chapter, however.

As you can see in these unedited images, the dynamic has been established.

Asa saves a cat, people die, and she gets praised for it. Denji saves a cat, people die, and he gets praised for it. Denji: :D Asa: that was horrible

Asa doesn't have anything she considers worth living for other than sex. Denji doesn't have anything he considers worth living for other than sex. Denji: :D Asa: that was horrible

Yoru injures Asa to combat despair. Denji injures himself to combat despair (also take a note how blatant it is that he gleefully targets his own brain and remember that for something I'm going to talk about later). Denji: :D Asa: that was horrible

Asa and Denji are really, really similar. But something which has been made clear about Denji as early as In Content Already Adapted By The Anime is that... while he's not as stupid as he seems, he hates thinking. Introspection makes him deeply uncomfortable, so he avoids it by always acting on impulse. This is rarely successful, and he kind of ends up being quite introspective in spite of himself, but it's really not something he wants or enjoys.

Asa, meanwhile, is established as "a goody-two-shoes" in her very first chapter. But it's not long afterwards that she's just as lacking in empathy as Denji is when it comes to complete strangers (so not actually including her mom or what's-her-name). So it's clear that her being "a goody-two-shoes" isn't actually particularly tied to her moral fiber. So then, what is it tied to? Well, the way I see it is, she's striving for societal acceptance. Denji and Asa are both striving for happiness and human connection, but Denji grew up outside of society, and disregards societal norms entirely, but Asa grew up within society, and sees societal norms as the threshold she needs to cross through in order to gain that happiness. She sees widespread acceptance as a fundamental requirement for forming meaningful relationships, and "staying in line", morally speaking, as the way to achieve that acceptance.

Another way of putting it is through this diagram:

okay analysis over. you can stop reading now

[wordsandrobots]

IBO reference notes on . . . assorted head-canons

Was planning to put this up later in the week but it's been one of those days that make me want to throw stuff online to make myself feel better. Nothing too involved, just various things I head-canon about Iron-Blooded Orphans. Some of these have come up in my fics, others are simply things I keep in mind while writing them. Likely not an exhaustive list, so I may do another post like this later. Under a cut to hide one or two spoilers.

Oh, and on the off chance anyone has something else IBO-related they're interested in my opinion/head-canon on, please don't hesitate to sling an ask my way. This show has literally been eating my brain for a year and three quarters.

The Bauduin Family's blue hair is the result of genetic meddling. An ancestor really liked the colour and decided to make it stick forever. This had the unintentional side-effect of giving the family the lowest incidence of by-blows in the Seven Stars, because all its sons are painfully aware any 'accidents' outside of wedlock are going to be really, really obvious.

A long sword/katana is Barbatos' original main weapon. That's why Mika suddenly understands how to use one correctly when he connects more deeply to the system. I have a few ideas about what its first pilot was like, but she is basically a complete OC so beyond the scope of this post.

The original, 'pure' Alaya-Vijnana is safer to use. A lot of what happens to Mika is the result of him being implanted with the knock-off, bastardised version. This is why McGillis experiences no loss of motor function despite using Bael at a similar level of power. The fact I also picture almost all the original pilots as suffering some degree of paralysis speaks entirely to how bad the Calamity War got. Essentially, it took months, even years, of running the A-V at full tilt for them to reach where Mika is after Edmonton.

Agnika Kaieru was a cold-hearted bastard. Think Heero Yuy's consideration for his own happiness and well-being coupled to a functioning understanding of human nature and how to get people to do what he wanted. This guy could screw over those close to him in ways McGillis can only dream of.

Not that McGillis realises this because the central 'joke' running through my Calamity War head-canons is that, as a historical document, 'The Life of Agnika Kaieru' isn't worth the paper it's printed on. It's pure propaganda, the result of the original Seven Stars covering for the fact their leader was a manipulative arsehole who ended his days using Gundam Bael as a life-support machine.

Aside from McGillis deliberately creating distance between them, the main reason Carta fell out with him is because Iznario pulled strings to get her an early promotion to colonel. She wanted to earn it but wasn't given a chance, and had to watch McGillis sail up the ranks without any assistance at all. She's been overcompensating for the inferiority complex this created ever since.

Orga has always been able to read Eugene like a cheap novel and the reason he's Orga's go-to driver at the start of the show is that Orga knows he cares far more about being seen to do a good job than getting one over on his replacement as Third Group leader. The same logic applies to making him deputy boss.

Eugene's brain is wired such that his spacial awareness works better across large distances and in three dimensions than close-to and on one plane. This is why he's so adept at space combat and so crap at it on the ground. In space, he has breathing room and can move any way he wants; in ground skirmishes, he quickly becomes overwhelmed and locks-up for lack of options.

Mikazuki made a regular thing about working on Sakura Farm with Biscuit but Orga generally didn't accompany them. This is because Orga is not a fan of physical labour and his napping at the start of the very first episode is fairly typical of how he spends his breaks.

Ride doesn't join Kudelia's classes because he already knows how to read. He wasn't particularly better off than the others, but he did get some schooling before joining the CGS. Yamagi also knows how to read long before the series starts, probably owing to Yukinojo training him up as a second head-mechanic.

Age-order for Tekkadan, running oldest to youngest, goes something like: Dane, Dante, Akihiro, Chad, Eugene, Orga, Biscuit [16, S1], Zack, Shino, Hush, Mikazuki, Atra, Yamagi, Derma, Aston, Takaki [13, S1], Ride, Trow, Embi and Elgar, Hirume. I take Shino to be the youngest of the secondary boys (about 16, S1), and Yamagi to be the oldest of the tertiary trio (~15, S1). Even accounting for the general haggardness of the human debris' designs, Dante's character model looks older than the rest to me, so he comes in ahead of everyone except Dane, who I imagine has a fair few years on him. The younger kids are hard to be sure about, but I figure Ride is about 11 or 12 to begin with, and the others seem to be one to two years younger than him.

Character sexuality – because are we writing fanfic here or not? These are the ones I've given thought to. Anyone not listed, I haven't considered in enough depth to care who they want to sleep with.

Mikazuki: Straight. Sorry guys. I don't even read him as being on the ace spectrum, though I understand how you could.

Kudelia: Probably pansexual, not that she's considered it very closely.

Atra: Definitely, very, extremely bi.

Orga: 100% asexual and occasionally embarrassed by his inability to grasp what the big deal is supposed to be. By which I mean, people sometimes mock him for it, and by people, I mean Eugene and Shino.

Akihiro: ???? As in, if you asked, that'd be his response. A row of question marks to the tune of 'I have literally never given this a single thought in my life and I'm too busy to care.'

Eugene: Thinks he's straight. It's adorable. He's actually into anyone who'll treat him good and tell him he's doing OK.

Shino: Has known he's bisexual for years but internalised that the cool, macho thing is to be very into girls. Which, I mean, he is very into girls, but also sex is good regardless of which bits the other person has.

Dante: Straight. Dante is very boring in this regard.

Chad: Panromantic and demisexual. Chad wants to be loved, and everything else slightly scares him because he doesn't know where to start.

Yamagi: Gay (canon!) and somewhat kinky with it, since he approaches sex as an engineering problem and is, at heart, a control freak.

Takaki: Curious. Essentially a big 'TBA' on the whole sexuality thing. He'll get back to you after he's tried a few things.

Gaelio: Bi and hopelessly romantic with it. Prior to everything, he tended to fall in and out of love on a weekly basis. Bit of a commitment-phobe, but genuinely caring while actually in a relationship.

McGillis: Do not even go there. Long ago locked all his actual wants and desires in a box marked 'irrelevant' and threw away the key.

Julieta: Grey/demisexual. Would need a long run-up, probably involving a lot of frustration because why is [traditional relationship marker] even necessary?

Azee: Loosely bi, on the ace spectrum. Slightly more in love with Amida than Naze.

Eco: Straight. She and Yamagi take turns sympathising with and mocking each other for their equally terrible taste in men.

Argi Mirage: Asexual in an 'I don't need anyone else to take care of my sex-drive' way.

Grown-up!Ride: Firmly aromantic. Exists in a constant state of vague surprise about the things people do together.

All these sexuality descriptors are approximate modern-day translations because Post-Disaster, how people express their attraction has moved on to different phraseology.

That incident Shino shuts Zack up about because he cannot have anyone knowing it happened? Yeah, Shino ran into a dominatrix and became incoherently turned on by the experience. This is about the only sexual thing I can imagine him being worried others might find out about. Anything else could be hand-waved along the lines of 'I'm so hot, even the boys want me', but if people discover he has a submissive streak wide enough to drive a tank down, his life is over. Obviously, re: everything I've done with Shino in my fics, he grows out of being concerned by this. Not that it would have survived two seconds in a relationship with Yamagi anyway.

Relatedly, Shino is the world's most turn-on-a-dime switch. Fundamentally, always the people-pleaser.

That actually is both Orga's scarf and Mikazuki's gun Ride has in the epilogue. He accidentally stole the scarf during the evacuation of the Isaribi, then picked the gun up after Orga's death, and has held on to both ever since.

Akatsuki is small for his age and basically indestructible. Along with his eyes, his stature and the ability to shrug off physical harm are the main things inherited from Mikazuki. That said, he's probably going to shoot up like a rocket once he hits adolescence, leading to jokes about him having somehow stolen a tall gene from the Bernsteins. He also spends a large chunk of his childhood obsessed with wolves. This is a complete coincidence: he read about them in a book of Earth animals and liked the way they smile.

And while it's not strictly head-canon, if I were ever tempted into doing an 'Iron-Blooded Orphans: The Next Generation' fic centred on him, I wouldn't under any circumstances put him in a Gundam. Akatsuki becoming a child soldier represents a total failure of everything achieved in the main story and, frankly, I'm not (quite) that cruel.

[slimehatart]

Hello everyone!

Today's episode deals with struggle! So bear with me as I struggle to find words to work through the post. Don't worry though, it's not about real life struggles, it's more about the struggles of my OCs!

Originally, I wanted the story to start shortly before or right after Liora joined Pure Prosperity. There, she was meant to climb the ladders until she was met with problems - problems her guild mates create and problems she encountered while getting to know the leader better.

Much similar to Patra, she has her own goals in sight, but she struggles far more in trying to keep a good attitude and stay motivated as she is met with difficulties on the way. It is not easy being on top. Everyone wants to be liked and acknowledged, even if they're trying to hide it, I'm sure of that. As she feels that everything starts falling apart by the time she is nearing her goals, she tries to put up a strong face.

(original Tweet: "So I saw a report about actress Mena Suvari on TV yesterday talking about her experiences while shooting for American Beauty.

They showed the infamous rose bath scene & as it seems, there have been many iconic scenes.

Wanted to reimagine the scene with my OC Liora so here goes!", July 24th, 2021)

Originally, I had planned to let the women who the guild leaders had "his hands on" have them cover their shoulder-arm areas to hint at domestic violence. I don't know if I want to keep this concept up, but you can see some marks on her arm if you look closely. Same goes for Patra too. As Liora reaches her breaking point with the guild, she starts wearing clothes more freely again which I wanted to be a symbol for her breaking free as she breaks the shuckles of Pure Prosperity. Patra on the other side I drew very rarely with uncovered arms and shoulders which is an interesting parallel as she can't break away from him so easily.

Of course, all of my characters go through difficulties and struggles they overcome with time. Beating our fears makes us stronger and I want to see my characters succeed and grow with the progression of the story! Another character I have yet to formerly introduce is the three-eyed character that used to go by the name Seth.

(original Tweet: "In my practice session the other day, I wanted to try to draw faster. It kinda worked out and I hope I can reduce my drawing times and draw more efficiently.

On the picture, you see my character Seth with his native clothes. I wanna make the scarf work and have a few ideas." August 21st, 2021)

I already shared his first character sheet earlier. I think his story changed the least in the meantime! First of all, his name changed from Seth to Ziyan. Ziyan is a Turkish word for wasting something. When you say "ziyan oldu", you pretty much say something like: "oh it's a shame! It's a waste!"

Now, why would someone call his child that? That, I can answer. Ziyan is the son of the ruler of the far Sherbet Islands. You see, he was born with a third eye. This is not the problem in itself, though. In the royal family, heirs and rulers are usually born with a third eye, too. The common folk is born with a third eye. The difference is that, in their beliefs, only those who are born with a vertical third eyes are fit to believe and carry the blood worthy to rule over the kingdom. Even though Ziyan is one of the three children of the ruler, he is not born with a vertical eye, but a horizontal eye. Which is what made his father call him Ziyan - a waste, a shame.

Originally, he meets the party by just being a regular in the motel the party is staying at. They never see or meet him early on, but after some time, they catch him which is the first opportunity to introduce him to the story and the party. For some reason, he needs to leave as soon as possible, so the party helps emptying his room. There, Miles and Sarim see that photograph of Ziyan's family.

(original Tweet: "In today's practice session, I wanted to draw something in a manga panel-esque style!

Since I'm not sure if the compression will make the text unreadable, I've attached cropped pics as well.

Tried to be a bit quicker than before. Info about chars/story in thread if u wanna know!", July 25th, 2021)

If you look closely, you will be able to see Ziyan's dad, his mother (the ruler's concubine) and his sister with the royal vertical eye. His sister is called Ziyafeth. Ziyafet is a Turkish word for, you know, a feast, a banquet, richness in a kind. You get the metaphor, I think! Those two words, ziyan and ziyafet, just sounded so good together that I felt like they are just perfect as names for those two characters.

In Sherbet Island, a civil war is sparking. The common people storm the castle in their blind rage and try to kill the ruler, but are held back by ultimately. Ziyafeth will later rise to be the current ruler. Ruthless and violent, she sees everyone without the vertical third eye beneath her. That's why she starts hating Ziyan from an early age, too. Basically, they have a similar dynamic to Avatar's Zuko and Azula.

Even though the civil war fails at some point, they manage to take away Ziyan who they think is just a common child taken there to serve or something since he doesn't have the royal eye. Then, as they are hunted by the royal family, some of the rebels flee the island with Ziyan by their side which is how he ends up in the places our party is living in.

He lives in constant fear of being hunted down by the now grown Ziyafeth which is why he struggles to trust anybody. He feels the need to hide his third eye, but will, much like Liora, break free of these chains as he begins trusting his newfound friends!

Ah, today's blog was very fun to write, but this much is enough for today. Everyone struggles, but our struggles define who we are set to become. It is decided by how we manage to get through our struggles, so I hope you're never giving up and always try to fight your way through. Give it your best and you will always succeed.

Next post, we will be talking about the party and their overall dynamic again which I am looking forward to! Take care, see you then!

[archerclay]

Perseverate ................................................................................. The quaver of saw's teeth was almost unbearable, seeming to vibrate his eyes into the backs of their sockets as he sat hunched over on his legs. The image of a shaking oyster inside a shot glass rose and fell in his mind. He'd been at this leg for what seemed hours, sweating, exhausted, spattered red, and already covered with sticky globs of meat. 'Shoulda brought the sawzall.' He regretted. 'This is going to take all night.' He had decided to start with her thighs since they would be the toughest of all the sections, but it was much more task than he'd originally thought. The first leg had, by now, stopped leaking, with only a trickle of blood squeezed from her plump shorn legs when bumped. Since the second leg wasn't bleeding nearly as much, he gathered that most of the blood in her body had drained and that the rest wouldn't be nearly as messy as this first part was. Her skin still looked pretty. Pale and nearly unmarked, aside from the stained crimson and some fresh red friction around her throat. He stopped a moment, regarding her artful curves and porcelain skin with deranged interest. "Your stupid fault." He uttered. A wave of heat and foul desire washed over him, making him squirm and drop his tool. 'No. We need to get this done. Take a picture for later.' He decided, simmering his demons. He pulled off a glove and reached into his coveralls large front pocket, snapping a few pictures from various angles.

He began to scroll through them when a clattering struck through the halls of the long abandoned school, instantly freezing his blood and body. His mind stuttered through a hundred scenarios at once, angling his ear through the many walls between him and the front entrance. 'One of the boards hanging off the front desk.' He decided. 'Homeless?! Kids?! A deer?! COPS?!?!' He wildly questioned. 'No time to finish now.' He thought, deciding to lock the maintenance room door and take his chances in the dark. He rose, his knees dipping and nearly giving out from the lack of circulation. The massive rush of adrenaline was likely the only thing that kept him upright. He crept toward the door, his heart threatening to leap out of his chest with every step. He grasped the cold rectangular handle and thumb lever, ever so lightly latching it back into its frame, never so thankful for greased hinges. He grasped the deadbolt lock above the handle, spinning the thumbturn once, all the way around. Panic exploded as he realized the lock was broken. A simple vertical thumb latch stood between him and his doom. He hopelessly surveyed the room, wishing he had driven deep into the mountain woods to dump her instead of depositing her parts down the indoor sewage grate . 'Idiot!' he chastised while delicately stepping to retrieve his bulky lantern. He returned to his spot, extinguishing the dual fuel lantern with a hiss, and jammed his left thumb bone under the latch while bracing himself against the large metal door. He pictured smashing the intruder in the head with the hefty metal lantern, or maybe using it to blind them if they carried no light.

He listened intently, trying to control his haggard breaths. Every few beats, he'd hear faint shuffling, and by the third time he'd heard it, he realized the sound was moving closer. Nearly collapsing in misery, he thought of bolting out and running all the way to his truck, readying his lantern to swing. The footsteps drew close. Only one set, cautious and deadly. His heart hammered in his chest, every passing second pulling him closer to its assured implosion. The footsteps stopped directly in front of the door, a voiding hush falling over the room, causing him to shudder from somewhere so deep that it felt a fiction. And with his thumb crushing under self-inflicted force, the latch lightly nudged against his pallid, mashing skin. 'Not a deer.' He lamented.

[raibebe]

Love shot

Genre: Tooth rotting fluff Words: 8.590 Prompt: Hockey Player Jeno feat. best friend Jaemin, love letters? Warnings: none..?

A/N: This was written for @woahhwa​ for the @kafenetwork​ kafeholidays event! Hi Ru! I had so much fun talking to you when tumblr wasn’t eating my asks! I hope you liked this and it incorporates some of the things you said you liked. Also. Warning: I know absolutely nothing about hockey so please bear with me :] As always thank you to @burtonized​ for always listening to my rambles and telling me that my writing doesn’t suck. Also literally no one asked for me to put Johnny into this but I am a simple woman and miss him and his gorgeous hair. I am sorry for this horrible title...

The red numbers on the clock over the rink slowly counted down, the last minute of the game beginning. You had your hands tightly clutched together, sitting on the edge of the seat as you watched your home team in the orange and blue tricots trying to defend the last push of the opposing team. Mark Lee - on the defense - body checked the opposing wing player, who had been pushing forward, hardly into the banister, causing him to lose the puck. Quick on his feet like always, Ten snatched it from him and took a sharp turn to avoid the second wing player, using his smaller size to his advantage so he could push forward into the last third before the huge defender of the opposing team tackled him harshly. But like the genius player he was, Donghyuck had anticipated it, screaming Ten’s name at the top of his lungs so the elder had the time to pass the puck on to his wingplayer. Using his momentum from following Ten, Donghyuk pulled both of the opposing defenders towards him, leaving the star player of the team - Lee Jeno - free right in front of the goalie. A huge mistake. With a mischievous grin on his lips, Donghyuck waited until the very last second to pass the puck straight to Jeno who didn’t hesitate even for a second to take his shot: Hitting the puck with all his strength, he sent the rubber flying right past the goalie’s body, slamming into the net of the goal.

The crowd around you erupted in loud screams and cheers, everyone jumping up from their seats and celebrating the last minute goal as the red timer on the scoreboard ticked down to zero, the loud noise of a horn mixing with the cheers of the students. In the middle of all of this you were hugging your best friend, screaming loudly before turning back to look into the rink where the other boys had buried Lee Jeno beneath them, hockey sticks scattered around them. The other team had already angrily left the rink, collecting their stuff to make their way to the locker rooms when the boys finally let off and let their MVP breathe. Grinning broadly they took their helmets off one by one, shaking out their matted hair and just like after every game, the sight of Jeno’s midnight blue messy hair took your breath away. Once you could muster up the courage to talk to him, you wanted to ask if he had dyed it to match the color of their blue and orange jerseys. But even though you went to every single one of their home games and sometimes even went down to the rink to congratulate them, you had yet to speak more than three words with their handsome center forward player with the 23 on his back.

“Let’s go down to congratulate them, this was insane,” Jaemin said before already pulling you down the stairs against the tide of people that were already leaving. A couple of the player’s friends had already gathered at the rink, cheering them on and clapping them on their padded shoulders. You could make out the University’s heartthrob Johnny Suh - a volleyball player himself - fondly petting his best friend’s head which made Ten smile brighter than the harsh lights that illuminated the ice. A group of other boys from your year that you knew from a couple of your courses had rounded Donghyuck and Mark and looked like they were currently mocking the elder for his misplay that had led to the early goal of the opposing team, leaving their goalkeeper Yangyang almost no time to react. With a loud thud Jeno joined the circle, clinging to Mark’s back who cried out in pain from how hard the impact had been. The newest addition to the team, a tall freshman with the number 27 on his back, awkwardly shuffled on the ice before the team captain - Sicheng - pulled him over to where they were celebrating.

“Yooooo, boys this was sick!” Jaemin called out when he jumped down the last couple of steps before joining his friends who had stopped mocking Mark for a little while. But that wouldn’t be for long and you knew it. You had been their fan for quite some time now and knew that Donghyuck would not let Mark live and would bother him about it for a long time. “Watch your back, stupid,” you mumbled after your best friend who had been part of the team last year but had to quit playing for an undefined amount of time due to some issues with his back. He was the one who had originally gotten you into this sport which had led to your crush on Lee Jeno. So basically Na Jaemin was the reason you had the worst everlasting crush on a boy you barely knew and were way too shy to talk to even if he shared a ridiculous number of classes with you this year. But to Lee Jeno you must just be Jaemin’s weird friend he still knew from his childhood.

Slowly you approached the circle of boys, trying to hide as much of your face as possible in the bright orange scarf you had wrapped around your neck to shield yourself from the cold of the stadium. Jaemin was already retelling the highlights of the game in rapid-fire double time rapping speed, gesturing broadly and making the players laugh. “If you were to commentate the games they would probably be twice as fun to watch,” you spoke your mind when your best friend had to take a deep breath, making all of them stare at you which promptly lead to blood to rush to your face. “Yoooo, that would be such a good idea,” Mark broke the silence, his eyes wide, “Since you know all the rules and stuff.” “Also I wouldn’t be biased at all,” Jaemin just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he can’t just trash talk the other team during the whole game,” Sicheng threw in. “But it would be fun,” Yangyang mused. He had finally managed to get all of his extra protective gear off, his dark hair hanging into his eyes. “You should try it, Jaem,” Jeno also agreed. “I’d rather join you on the ice, you know,” your best friend mumbled, shooting the rink a longing gaze. “You’ll be back with us in no time once your back is healed,” Sicheng smiled, patting him on the shoulder with his still gloved hand, “Just give me a call and I’ll unlock the rink for you to make a couple of rounds.” “What am I, a short track athlete?” Jaemin grumbled but nodded his head anyways. He had been an amazing sprinter until he had exchanged the goggles and tight suits for heavy padding and a stick some time in high school.

“What’s this gloomy atmosphere? We won guys!” Ten shouted over from where he had been talking to Johnny and some other upperclassman, “Let’s get out of these uniforms and have some food to celebrate, Sicheng is paying.” “I am what?” The team captain protested but his complaints were lost in the cheers of the younger members of the team who quickly scrambled to get to the lockers to shower and change, their stomachs always bottomless holes after an intense game. “Let’s go home then,” Jaemin suggested, raking a hand through his caramel hair. You could tell he was still sad about not being able to be with his boys but he made an effort to hide his inner struggle. “Jaem!” A voice called you back when you turned to climb up the stairs and Lee Jeno skidded effortlessly over the ice to roughly collide with the side of the rink again. “You know you can join us, right?” A smile spread over your friend’s lips but he shook his head. “I can’t leave this one all to herself.” “The more the merrier,” Jeno just answered, looking you straight in the eye which lead to your heart missing a beat or two. He was covered in sweat and his hair was matted to his head, he should not have looked this attractive to you with his stupid half-moon eye smile and mole beneath his right eye. “I- I don’t want to mess up your all-boys time,” you tried to politely decline, scolding yourself for stuttering like this. You did not need to make an even bigger fool out of yourself. “It’s fine, really. Mark’s girlfriend is probably going to join us as well,” Jeno reassured you, “I’ll see you two outside!” He quickly added before crossing the rink again to disappear into the lockers, not leaving you two any more chance to decline.

“We’re not going to say no to a free meal, are we?” Jaemin grinned. “Wipe that grin off your face Nana,” you grumbled, scolding yourself for going for comfortable and warm clothes instead of pretty ones. What would Jeno think of you in your oversized blue hoodie and orange scarf? “Stop stressing, I can hear you thinking,” your friend whined, pulling you out of the by now empty stadium. “I look like a potato.” “No you don’t. You look fine. Jeno is not into the whole dolled up thing anyways.”  Slapping his arm hard, you looked around if any of the players had already changed and overheard his comment. “You better keep your mouth shut, Na Jaemin or may god have mercy over you,” you hissed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he innocently blinked his eyes at you. “Na Jaemin, I swear to god. If you make me look like a fool in front of my crush that I should have never admitted to you, I WILL make you regret it.” “You don’t need me to make a fool out of yourself,” your best friend laughed, just barely dodging the punches you threw at him.

“Please be nice,” you whispered when the boys came out from the locker after a couple of minutes, their hair still damp from the shower they must have taken, their bags slung over their shoulders. Pictures of what a certain forward player must look like beneath his heavy padding and jersey flooded your mind for a second and you had to fight the heat that threatened to creep up on your cheeks. Mark’s girlfriend who had arrived a couple of minutes earlier and who you two had already told about the game, raced to fling herself into her boyfriend’s arms, giggling loudly when he almost toppled over from being thrown off balance. Somehow that image tugged at your heart and you wished that one day when you were finally not too shy to talk to Jeno, this could be the two of you.

Dinner was filled with a lot of loud laughter and just mildly annoyed waiters at the restaurant that had the best hot pot in town or so Sicheng claimed. But you really couldn’t even blame the poor waitress that had to deal with the hyped up hockey players. You mostly kept quiet, listening to their bickering and their stories. Donghyuck only retold how Mark had messed up in today’s game about three more times until he earned himself a rather hard slap to the back of his head from both Mark and Jeno. During the whole time you tried to steal secret glances at the forward player, admiring how fluffy his hair got after it had dried and how his glasses would fog up from the heat of the food until he took them off with an adorable but also really annoyed huff, stuffing them into the pocket of his neon green hoodie that should have looked ridiculous but he could pull it off. At this point you thought that he would look good in a plastic bag. God you really had it bad for him.

“Alright children, it’s bed time,” Ten exclaimed after everyone’s bellies were full, clapping his hands, “We should leave quickly so Sicheng can pay for the meal.” The team captain just sighed and leaned back in his seat while the others quickly shuffled around to sort out their bags and their jackets to hurry out of the restaurant, muttering words of thanks to Sicheng. You felt bad for him and lingered behind for a little before pressing a note into his hands that he declined with a little smile. “It’s fine,” he shook his head, handing the money back, “One mouth more or less doesn’t matter.” “Thank you for the meal, Sicheng,” you smiled. “Thank you for your support, you’re at every of our games, aren’t you?” Flustered you followed him to the register where a woman took his card to pay for the meal. “I try to make it. Jaemin doesn’t like going alone when he’s not allowed to play and I really enjoy watching you guys play. Your freshman really did so well.” “Sungchan is really talented,” Sicheng nodded, “He is such a great assent to the team and he compliments Jeno well. He’ll give Jaemin a run for his money when he comes back.” Smiling, you nodded. “I hope he’ll recover fast, he really misses you guys.” Taking his card back, Sicheng grimaced at the receipt. “We all miss him.”

Stepping outside in the cold, you were glad you had brought your thick jacket, your breath came out in little white clouds and Jaemin’s nose was already red. “I thought you’d never come back out, I am freezing over here,” he complained. Rolling your eyes at your roommate, you quickly said goodbye to Sicheng who once again told Jaemin to give him a call if he wanted to use the rink to skate for a while. On the way over to your apartment a little off of campus, you both kept quiet, each lost in your own thoughts. Even through your thick layers of clothing, the cold began seeping into your bones and you buried your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. But instead of the soft material of the inside of the pockets, your right hand came into contact with a neatly folded piece of paper. Confused you pulled it from your jacket and unfolded it. You didn’t remember stuffing that in there. In neat handwriting, a single sentence was written:

You look so pretty in blue.

What? You were so perplexed, you halted in your steps, staring at the piece of paper as if it would tell you what in the world was going on or how it had ended up in your pocket. Had one of the boys snuck the note into you jacket when they all had left before you and Sicheng? But why would any of them do that? What if... What if it had been Jeno? No, that couldn’t be. He was way out of your league and most definitely confident enough to tell you in person if he liked the honestly very much not special or pretty blue hoodie. “Hello? Earth to best friend?” Jaemin’s voice ripped you from your thoughts. He was standing a couple of steps in front of you, a questioning look on his features. “Did you just remember you left the stove on or something?” “N... No,” you muttered, shaking your head before shoving the note back into your pocket, catching up to Jaemin.

What you didn’t know was that would not be the last weird note you would find. The next one didn’t take long. You found it stuffed in your bag between your books on your second class of the day. Trying to not catch your friend’s attention so you wouldn’t have to explain the note, you carefully and secretly unfolded it to read the neatly written sentence.

You look great today, have a great start into the new week! Fighting!

Not unlike last time, you wondered who could have dropped the note into your bag. And when? Looking around the class you were currently in, your eyes caught on Lee Jeno’s midnight blue hair just a couple of seats in front of you. Had he been in your previous class as well? You couldn’t remember. But even if he had been, it was just wishful thinking that he had been the one to write the note. It was most likely a cruel joke someone was playing on you. Sighing you crumbled the piece of paper and focused back to what your professor was saying, trying to concentrate on taking notes instead of daydreaming while staring holes into Lee Jeno’s head like you had done way too often in this class. You weren’t very successful and when Jeno answered a question the professor had thrown at the class flawlessly, earning himself a couple of back pats from his friends that were seated around him, you couldn’t help but sigh. God, why did he have to be both smart and incredibly handsome? And on top of that a very talented hockey player.

A slap from your friend to your shoulder brought you back from your daydream to find the professor staring at you intensely. Shit. What had he asked? “Alright miss, I’d like a word with you after class. Now who can answer my question instead?” He spoke and you just wanted to ground to swallow you whole.

For the rest of the class you were just imagining all the worst case scenarios in your head of what the strict professor would scold you about. Would he make you do extra work for the class? Give you a bad grade all together? Or just humiliate you further? “Alright class, that will be it for today, you’re dismissed. Don’t forget to do the reading for next week and hand in your assignments on time,” the professor dismissed the class, immediately finding your eyes to nod his head sharply to indicate he hadn’t forget about you zoning out.

Discouraged after the scolding you had gotten from your professor about dozing off in his classes, you climbed the stairs to your seat to pack your stuff to go hide in your room until everyone would have forgotten how embarrassing the whole situation had been, especially Lee Jeno and his friends. But yet again another note was placed right on top of your notebook, seemingly written in a haste and carelessly ripped out of its original page.

Don’t take it to heart, it could have happened to anyone. Cheer up!

Okay maybe the someone who was writing you these notes actually wasn’t playing jokes on you and actually cared about you. You’d be lying if the few words hadn’t made you feel any better.

Over the next few weeks you found more and more notes. Some longer than others, some just a few hastily written words. Some were just a quick cheer up to help you get through a long day of class, some compliments about your outfit or your hair and some even little stories about the day of your admirer. Somehow you felt like you got to know him a little through his little messages. You even dared to say you looked forward to finding more and more notes.

One time your secret admirer even left you a coffee on your table at the library when you had gotten up from your seat to get more books to look up some information for the essay you were trying to finish. When you got back to your seat, you looked around quickly to see if the admirer was still around. But you only saw more students perched over books or their laptops, typing away. Just when you were about to get back to your own project, a white hoodie caught your eye between the dull lighting and brown colors of the library. Below a mop of blue hair, Lee Jeno shortly smiled at you from behind his glasses, toasting towards you with his own cup of coffee and you couldn’t help but notice that it was from the same shop the steaming cup in front of you was from. Picking it up, you toasted back and took a small sip to not completely burn your tongue before examining the cup which just said your name with a little heart on it. It could have been just a coincidence that Jeno chose to get coffee from the same place your admirer had. The shop was just a few meters from the library after all but the way Jeno had smiled at you, not his usual bright smile but something maybe a little more shy, made you believe it could actually have been him and you really hoped that he actually was.

But today you hadn’t found a single note from your admirer and for some reason that was really bothering you. He had managed to sneak you at least a little note every day for a while now. And you still hadn’t figured out how he did it. Or when. You didn’t leave your bag or jackets unattended for long periods of time and it seriously baffled by how sneaky he must be.

“Stop staring holes into the air and get back to work,” your coworker Yuta scolded you, clapping a hand on your back on his way past you. “I’m sorry, I was lost in my head,” you apologized but he just shrugged his shoulders as he collected the mugs a group of students had left behind. “Exams?” He asked as he came back, putting the mugs into the sink. “Something like that,” you lied. You really didn’t know the upperclassman well enough to vent to him about how someone you didn’t even knew who they were send you secret messages and somehow they hadn’t done it today yet. Before Yuta could ask any further questions, the bell on the door jingled happily, announcing the arrival of a new set of customers. “I’ll go, bring those to the back,” your coworker instructed you. Sighing, you bunched up your sleeves to stack up all the dishes that had been piling up in the front during the time Yuta and you had been too busy with orders to put them in the big dishwasher in the kitchen.

With a couple of freshly washed cups and plates you emerged back into the main room to see Yuta flirting with the group of girls that had just come in to probably order some way too overpriced season special with more sugar than actual coffee in it. Of course only after they had been completely charmed by the objectively speaking very pretty foreigner with a silver tongue. Rolling your eyes at the group, you instead made your way to where the customers were sitting to check if anyone new had come in while you were in the back. After most classes were over for the day, the cozy café usually filled up with students pretty fast; either to relax for a little before going to the library or to discuss group projects.

Today was no different and you easily spotted a group of boys from one of your courses squished together in one of the booths, your best friend smiling brightly at you when he saw you approach. “My favorite waitress is working,” he spoke, awkwardly hugging your waist from his sitting position. “You just want my employee discount,” you fondly rolled your eyes at a now pouting Jaemin, “So what can I get you.” You quickly collected all the boy’s orders including Jaemin’s horrendous deathpresso. “Oh, add another iced Americano, someone is still missing,” Donghyuck called after you when you had confirmed their orders, a knowing smirk on his lips. Quickly scribbling another one on your little notepad, you didn’t look where you were going and suddenly collided with a very solid chest and you were pretty sure you would have fallen if it was not for the customer’s quick reflexes. So instead of on the floor, you found yourself pressed against his chest, his perfume clouding your senses. “Careful where you’re going,” he said and you could already tell that your eyes would meet ones with the color of molten amber, hidden behind a cute pair of round glasses, before you even looked up to see Lee Jeno’s smile. “You... You too,” you stuttered, feeling your face heat up, quickly scrambling back a step. “Are you alright?” He asked, looking you up and down once. “Yeah, I was just taking your orders, I’ll be right back,” you tried to smile while trying to tell your heart to stop beating like you had just ran a marathon. “I’ll help you carry, we’re quite a few people.” “No, it’s fine really,” you quickly declined, “This is my job after all. “I feel bad for running into you though, let me help,” Jeno insisted, a slight pout on his lips that you really could not resist. When you ended up nodding, his whole face lit up with his famous eye smile and your insides might have just melted a little. While he was quickly putting his bag down and greeting his friends, you busied yourself with the orders. Yuta was still no help whatsoever, telling one of the girls an obnoxious story of how he had ended up at a university in Korea. You barely held back your laugh when the girls gasped, their eyes glued to Yuta. The story might have been impressive to you if you hadn’t heard it about 30 times already, always a little different but always pretty far from the actual truth.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Jeno ripped your attention from your coworker when he leaned against the counter to watch you work the big coffee machine. “I was working in a different shop a little off campus before,” you smiled, focusing on pouring the milk into one of the cups of coffee to form a pretty picture. “You’re really good at making them look pretty,” Jeno complimented you, his cheeks tinted a rosy color. “It’s just practice,” you mumbled, hiding your own shyness behind the counter to quickly grab the cake slices the boys had ordered. An awkward silence hung over the two of you while you worked on finishing the other drink orders (it always took a ridiculous amount of time to make Jaemin’s) and your brain ran on overdrive trying to come up with a topic to talk to Jeno to fill up the silence while willing your hands to not shake and make a fool out of yourself in front of him.

“Do... Do you work between classes?” You chose to ask in the end, scolding yourself immediately for asking what must be the most lame, basic question ever. “I hardly have time between classes and practice,” Jeno explained nonetheless, scrunching his nose adorably to push up his glasses,” I’m here on a scholarship so I have to show results in hockey or I’ll be out.” “Ooh, I didn’t know that. But you’re really good so it shouldn’t be a surprise,” you spoke your mind before you could think about the words but as soon as it registered, your face immediately was heating up. Jeno just laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. “I’m not bad I guess. It’s just a lot of practice, it’s nothing special,” he mirrored the words you had said earlier, an easy smile on his lips. “Even I can see you have an unfair amount of talent for hockey, Jeno.” At that he barked out a short laugh. “You should have seen me when I stood on the ice for the first time, I couldn’t even skate in a straight line without falling on my ass, no idea what the scouts saw in me when they talked to my mum to recruit me.” “I bet you’re just being modest,” you argued. “I am not I swear,” he laughed, “I was really bad but I trained a lot so I could make the team. I’m not like Donghyuck who can just skip half of practice because he’s hungover. I have to work for it.” “That makes it even more admirable,” you mumbled, not able to look him in the eye when you spoke the words even though you meant them with all your heart. “Th- Thank you,” Jeno stuttered and when you looked up at his face again, you could see that his ears were bright red. “I mean it,” you smiled and when he finally met your eyes you couldn’t help but get lost in his for a while.

“And you tell me to stop flirting with customers,” Yuta broke whatever moment you just had with Jeno and shoved you from the spot on the coffee machine. “I wasn’t,” you tried to argue but your colleague just clocked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “I... I wouldn’t mind if you were,” Jeno mumbled so quietly you had almost missed it, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach and a smile to creep onto your lips again. “We should bring the drinks over,” you smiled, grabbing the tray that held the drinks so Jeno could take the one with the cakes. “Ye... Yeah, orders, drinks, sure,” he stuttered, grabbing the second tray and following you through the café back over to where his friends were seated. “I thought you would never come back,” Jaemin already whined, grabbing his deathpresso off of your tray. “It takes a while to make eight freaking extra shots of espresso,” you scolded your best friend while giving out the rest of the orders to the other boys who all agreed, joining in on telling Jaemin how unhealthy his coffee drinking habits were. “Let me know if you need anything else,” you smiled politely when everyone had gotten their respective drinks, leaving the boys to banter playfully.

Over the course of your shift, the boys stayed to study and ordered another round of hot drinks before they left just shy of the ending of your shift. Jeno threw you another shy smile and a little sweater pawed wave when they left the shop that almost send you into cardiac arrest. “I’ll clean that table and then head out,” you announced to Yuta who was glued to his phone, checking his twitter feed. Among the chaos of used napkins and dishes, you found a neatly folded piece of paper with your name neatly written on it, a little heart drawn in the corner that set you own one racing again. You quickly put it in your pocket and cleared the rest of the table, all but throwing the dishes into the dishwasher at the back so you could get out of your apron and take a look at the note your secret admirer had left. While you were changing into your warm jacket, you couldn’t help but to think and to hope that Jeno had left it for you. After all he had been at both the gatherings that had led to you finding these notes and he also shared lot of classes with you where he could technically have slipped you a note or two. And on top of that he had also been at the library when the coffee incident happened.

Once you stepped out of the café and into the cool air of the early evening, you sat down on one of the benches surrounding the building to read the little note in peace.

You look so cute when you’re concentrating on making pretty latte art, did you know that? I loved the little talk we had but I am too shy to talk to you. Can you tell by these notes? My friends all make fun of me for writing cheesy notes instead of manning up to actually talk to you. I don’t even know if you would want to meet me. But if you want to, then meet me at the ice rink tomorrow at 7pm. I’ll be waiting for you there, I promise.

You couldn’t hold in the little shriek of joy that made its way past your lips. It had to be Jeno. It couldn’t be anyone else. It had to be him. Holding the little note close to your furiously beating heart, you smiled and kicked your legs in joy before storing it carefully into your bag. Jaemin better be ready to help you choose an outfit for tomorrow and listen to you whine without asking too many questions about who you were actually going to meet.

When you arrived at the stadium the next day, clutching the note tightly in your hand, you double checked the time and carefully looked around before you tried to open the front door which to your surprise was actually unlocked. Taking a deep breath, you went in, closing the door firmly behind you before walking up to the second door that would take you to the bleachers. Slowly you pulled it open as well, hoping it wouldn’t make too much noise. The rink itself was just dimly lit, most of the lights turned off and on the ice there was a single figure skating around the perimeter, seemingly lost in their thoughts while aimlessly taking sharp turns that send pieces of ice flying, making the skids screech. You would have recognized that person between hundreds of other skaters, the midnight blue hair easily giving him away.

Jeno seemingly hadn’t noticed you yet and it gave you time to sort out your racing heart and thoughts. Had it really been him to write you all the sweet notes that you had begun to collect in a little box you hid from Jaemin in a box beneath your bed? Or was the universe playing a prank on you and it was just a coincidence that he was practicing right now, alone at night. But then again no one else was around and he really wasn’t dressed for practice, just wearing one of his big hoodies and jeans. It had to be his notes. And thinking back on it, he really had been the only person who had been at the same places, the notes had been showing up. From the dinner with the hockey team to the ones in your classes and at your work or in the library.

Slowly you made your way down the steps of the bleachers, keeping quiet so you wouldn’t disturb Jeno who was still skating around the rink. Once you arrived at the bottom row of seats, you took a seat next to a pair of skates and a pair of sneakers that probably belonged to Jeno. Sitting in silence, you watched his movements for a while. He was captivating to watch: Seeing him effortlessly glide over the ice before suddenly sprinting forward only to come to an abrupt halt or take a sharp turn. It was beyond you how he held his balance through it all.

Suddenly he halted in his moves completely to stare at the big clock on the back wall of the stadium that showed that it was fifteen minutes past seven already before he sighed deeply, raking a hand through his fluffy hair. Was he nervous? Nervous you wouldn’t come? Just when he was taking off, his eyes caught your figure and he stopped again, a big smile spreading across his face that made his eyes curl into the beautiful half-moon shape you adored. While you were busy trying to remember how to breathe, he was skating towards you, effortlessly jumping from the ice through a little door in the rink, walking towards you. “You came,” he beamed, kneeling down in front of you after he had grabbed the skates that were still lying next to you. “Yeah I did,” you answered, still not entirely sure what to make of this situation. With how fast your heart was beating, it must have climbed all the way up to your throat and you weren’t sure if you could have produced a proper sentence if you wanted to.

“I hope I didn’t misinterpret all of this,” Jeno mumbled while he carefully undid your shoelaces before slipping them off your feet, “And you’re just here to tell me to stop being creepy and not leave any more notes around.” The way he looked up at you from beneath his midnight blue bangs tugged at your heart and you couldn’t find any words to tell him just how okay you were with this, so you just nodded, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the skin feeling way too hot against the cold of the stadium. Smiling brightly Jeno quickly prepared the skates to slip onto your feet and laced them up tightly, his nimble fingers working fast and efficient. “Is this alright? Not too tight?” “Seems fine,” you smiled back at him, experimentally wiggling your toes. “Alright,” Jeno smiled, extending a hand to you. “Come on, let’s go.”

Shyly, you took his hand to let him pull you upright. On wobbly feet, you followed him to the little door in the rink, letting him step onto the ice first. “I’ve never done this before,” you confessed, almost reflexive reaching your gloved hands out towards him which he took with a gentle smile, squeezing them reassuringly. “I won’t let you fall,” he promised, tightening the grip on your hands. “Okay,” you whispered, carefully stepping onto the slippery ice, unsure how to work with the skates. “You’re a natural,” Jeno beamed when you finally stood with both feet on the ice. “I- I don’t know,” you shied away from the praise, wishing you could hide in your big scarf. “Hold on tightly now,” the hockey player warned before he skillfully moved his legs so he was sliding backwards, effectively pulling you with him. A little surprised sound escaped your lips and you clutched his hands tightly, worrying your gaze to your feet where you tried to stabilize yourself and keeping the skids up right.

“Don’t think so much about it. Look at me,” Jeno’s voice cut through the soft scratching noises of the skates. “I’ll fall if I do,” you argued. Also your heart would most likely leap out of your chest if you did. As if it wasn’t already beating furiously enough now that you were basically on a date with your crush and he was holding your hands. “I told you that I won’t let you fall,” he promised, slowing down his own movements until you came to a halt. Steadying yourself on the skates, you took a deep breath before looking up to meet Jeno’s eyes. And just like that time stood still. Under the dimmed lights in the stadium, it felt like you two were the only people on this planet. You got lost in the deep brown shade of his eyes and adored how his nose and cheeks were tinted a pretty blush color from the cold. “Hey there,” he whispered, tucking your scarf neatly around your neck where it had come undone, the gesture so intimate, it made your breath hitch. “Hi,” you answered dumbly and it made him smile, his eyes curving into the beautiful half-moon eye smile.

Before you could do anything stupid like coo hat how pretty he looked, his smile turned into a mischievous grin and he quickly let go of your hands to skid backwards a couple of meters further towards the center of the rink. “Jenoooo,” you whined once you had found your balance again, glaring to where he was making a couple of sharp turns, creating indents in the smooth ice and sending pieces flying. “Come over,” he called, opening his arms wide. “You just want to see me fall.” “You won’t, have some faith in yourself. Just kick with your skates until you gain momentum. It’s like walking just with a little more glide.” “Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” “Just try it. For me,” Jeno smiled, sliding a little closer to you and opening his arms again. Sighing, you nodded, balling your hands into fists before you kicked your feet just how you had seen Jeno and the other’s do a hundred times before. Albeit very wobbly and slow, you were sliding over the ice. A smile slowly spread over your face as you kicked your feet again and again and you weren’t even mad when you noticed that Jeno steadily moved backwards to keep you going. “See, you’re a natural,” he beamed but just when he said that, you stumbled over one of the indents he had created earlier when he was showing off. You already prepared yourself to meet the cold unforgiving ice, making a complete fool out of yourself but instead two strong arms curled around you to pull you against a strong chest so you were stabilized again.

“I told you, I wouldn’t let you fall,” Jeno whispered, his hands steady on your waist. “Thank you,” you mumbled, slowly snaking your arms around him as well until your bodies were flush together. For a while you just stood on the ice, hugging each other until your breaths evened out, hearts beating in the same rhythm. “I’m so glad you actually came.” “Why wouldn’t I?” You mumbled into his neck. “Maybe you thought all my notes were creepy.” “I was really confused at first,” you admitted, “I thought it was a joke. I couldn’t think of a reason why anyone would write these to me. I was waiting for someone to bring up the topic so they could make fun of me. But deep down I really wished it was you who was writing them and that you actually meant everything you wrote.” The longer you spoke, the more you felt your face heat up. “I wish I had more courage to actually ask you out properly,” Jeno confessed, his voice quiet, “I kept seeing you around Jaemin and then you started to come to our matches. And then we ended up in so many of the same courses and guess what you’re not only very pretty but also incredibly smart. And I guess I kind of developed this huge crush on you with your big scarves and hoodies.”   “Me... Me too, Jeno,” you whispered, your heart making summersaults in your chest and a smile spreading on your lips. Beneath your fingers you could feel Jeno chuckle. “Will you let me kiss you?” He asked softly and who were you to deny him?

Slowly you lifted your head from his shoulder and he carefully cupped your face before he leaned in to kiss you until your noses were touching. His bangs were tickling your face but you wouldn’t have wanted to have it any other way and crossed the last few centimeters between you to press your lips against his slightly chapped ones. Like you had all time in the world you just stood on the ice, lazily moving your lips together only ever separating to heave in a couple of breathes of air and share a soft giggle before claiming each other’s lips again with hearts beating like one.

Eventually Jeno pulled back when you leaned in to kiss him again, a big smile on his lips when you pouted. “You’ll get another one when you manage to skate a whole round in the rink,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling. “You’re the worst Lee Jeno,” you kept pouting, “You’re hurting yourself just as much as me.” “Come on, it’s going to be fun,” he smiled, snaking free from your grip to skate around you in quick motions. “Show off,” you mumbled underneath your breath but tried your best to copy his movements to fulfill his quest.

In the end he had been right, once you got the hang of it and didn’t lose your balance every time there was a dent in the ice, it actually as fun to chase each other around the rink even though you knew he was purposefully letting you catch up to him at times to steal more kisses. It still somehow didn’t feel real that you actually were here with Lee Jeno and that you were actually allowed to kiss him just like this. After what felt like hours, Jeno helped you out of your skates and you just sat on the bleachers cuddled up together beneath a blanket, looking down at the rink. “Are you going to see the match tomorrow?” He asked. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?” Jeno just hummed, a blush creeping up his cheeks and ears, this one definitely not from the cold. What was making him shy all of a sudden? “Would you... I mean... If you wanted to... Would you,” he stuttered before he groaned loudly and grabbed your hands tightly, “Willyouwearmyjackettothegame?” “What?” “My jacket... Would you wear it tomorrow?” He asked again, slower this time but still not meeting your eyes, instead looking at your interlocked hands. “Do you want me to?” You asked him back, a big smile on your lips. “I mean... I understand if this is a little fast but... But I’ve had this crush on you for the longest time and... And I would really like to show everyone that you’re you know...” “That I’m your girlfriend?” “Y... Yeah,” he admitted, shyly looking at you from beneath his midnight blue bangs. “Of course I will,” you smiled broadly, throwing your arms around him to hug him close.

And you did. After you and Jeno had talked for a little while longer about everything and nothing at all (and maybe some more kissing) until you had yawned more than he found acceptable, he had quickly run to the locker rooms to fetch his jacket that he had promptly laid over your shoulders on your way home. In front of your apartment building he had kissed you goodbye and wished you sweet dreams before he walked away to his own dorm room that he shared with Donghyuck so you had found out. You turned the key as silently as you could so you wouldn’t wake up your best friend who was out cold on the small sofa in your living room, the Netflix ‘Are you still watching?’ screen illuminating the room. Shaking your head, you draped a blanket over the sleeping boy and turned the TV off before getting ready for bed as well. The next morning you had to explain why you had Jeno’s jacket to a screaming Jaemin at an ungodly hour but in the end he was just excited as you were if not more because he didn’t have to hear both of you pining anymore because he had promised Jeno not to meddle.

You slipped into Jeno’s big jacket when you and your friend where about to leave so you wouldn’t be late to the match, you couldn’t help but smile, snuggling deep into the collar until your boyfriend’s smell engulfed you like a blanket. “Stop being gross or the best seats will be taken,” your best friend complained, tugging you with him and filling the way over to the stadium with chatter. “There are so many people,” you exclaimed when you had entered the stadium, looking around for free seats. “It’s the highlight of the season, what did you expect?” Jaemin asked, tugging you further down when he spotted Mark’s girlfriend waving excitedly at your two. She also was wearing a jacket with the name ‘Lee’ on the back just that hers had a big blue 2 on the back and not a 23 like yours. “You and Jeno?” She excitedly jumped up and down when she had spotted your jacket and you could only nod shyly. “I’m so happy for you. Mark told me how Jeno kept pining after you.”

“What’s with all the Lees over here?” A male voice cut in before you could answer anything and Johnny Suh sat down next to Jaemin, not clad in his usual dark red jacket with his name and the 9 on the back but in a rather small orange one with a giant blue 10 on the back. “You’ll fit right in,” Mark’s girlfriend chirped, making Johnny blush and hide his face in his knitted scarf, mumbling something about how stupid it was that it had to be so cold to play hockey and how much rather he’d be in his heated gym. “The joy of dating Korean guys,” Jaemin laughed, jumping up and climbing in a seat the row above you, “Let me take a picture, this is hilarious.” “Ten and Mark aren’t even Korean,” Johnny argued, “But Leechaiyapornkul would have been a bit excessive to put on a jacket.”

The rest of his argument was drowned out by the cheers that erupted when the players came from their lockers, the starting 6 quickly rounding the rink, making a couple of sharp turns and going through moves with their stick. Being their center forward player, Jeno was in the starting team along with Sungchan and Donghyuck. On the defense, Winwin and Mark were checking their gear before the captain made sure that all of Yangyang’s protective gear was on right. In the meantime Jeno was searching the bleachers and you couldn’t help but feel shy before you waved at him, jumping up and down so he would notice you. Because of the helmet you couldn’t know if he smiled at you but your heart made summersaults nonetheless when you playfully put on the hood of the jacket to show him that you were indeed wearing it. You imagined him laughing before he blew you a kiss with an over exaggerated movement that made quite a few people turn their heads to see who he could have blown the kiss to. Before you could even think about hiding, Johnny gripped your arm tightly and hissed: “If I am out here wearing Ten’s stupid jacket that is way too small for me while he refuses to wear mine in public because he’s not some trophy wife, you will not hide now.” Not knowing whether you should be afraid of Johnny or laugh at what really sounded like something Ten would say, you just nodded at the blonde, straightening out your back. From the opposite side you could see Ten sitting in the exchange box, a huge grin on his face when he must have spotted Johnny in the crowd (which really wasn’t that hard, the dude was unnecessarily tall).

“They better win this game or I will be mad,” the blonde grumbled when everyone had sat back down and the referee had called both team captains over. “It’s going to be a tight game,” Jaemin filled him in, “The gorillas have been on a roll for the past couple of games. But I have the feeling that a couple of players might just try extra hard today, trying to show off.” At the end, he threw both Johnny and you a very over exaggerated look completed with wiggling eyebrows which earned him slaps from both of you. “Now shut your mouth, Na Jaemin, I actually want to see this game.” “Wow she gets a hot hockey player as her boyfriend and suddenly she doesn’t need my top notch commentating anymore, that hurts.” “Shut up, Nana,” you smiled, focusing back to where in fact your boyfriend was playing on the ice just now. And even if you loved to see Jeno playing, you couldn’t wait for the game to be over to be back in his arms to congratulate him.

[remedialpotions]

Happily Impervious

It’s still May 10 in my part of the world, so here’s my humble offering to @clarensjoy ‘s Hinny Ficfest! Many thanks to Clare for arranging all of this and encouraging me to write. This fic is for prompt #52 - “People are talking about us.”

***

Ginny has just closed herself inside the stall when the door to the bathroom creaks open again, then slams shut with a thud.

“I just can’t understand what he even sees in her,” comes a loud, haughty voice that echoes off the stone walls. “She’s not even that pretty, really.”

“A lot of boys think she’s fit,” comes a second, more timid voice - one that sounds a bit nervous to disagree with the first. “I heard Jimmy Peakes and Jack Sloper saying how-“

“They’re just third years,” interrupts the first voice with irritation, “they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Ginny’s stomach flips, because she knows this voice. She’s heard it carrying easily over the din of the Great Hall and disrupting the peaceful calm of the Gryffindor dormitories at night. It’s Romilda Vane - attempted poisoner of Ginny’s brand-new boyfriend and actual poisoner of Ginny’s brother - and just the thought of being near her makes her blood boil.

So she’s not sure why she does it. She should just wee and get the hell out of there. But instead, she climbs silently up on the closed toilet seat so that her feet won’t be seen through the gap between the stall door and the floor. Crouching low, barely breathing lest she give herself away, she listens.

“And anyway,” Romilda goes on as a knob turns and water gushes into the sink, “I’d rather die than have all that red hair.”

Oh. It doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, being the subject of Romilda’s vitriol, but Ginny expected something a bit more original than insults about her hair.

“Your hair is way prettier,” the second girl hurries to add, desperation from approval dripping from her words. “I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

“I hope so,” says Romilda. There is a pause as the water shuts off, and Ginny’s sure they can hear her heart pounding in her chest. “That, or she’ll end up chucking him. She goes through boys pretty quickly, doesn’t she?”

Ginny knows she should probably want to leap out of the stall and tackle Romilda to the ground, but instead she just rolls her eyes. If finally being with Harry means she’s had too many boyfriends - whatever that means - then so be it.

“Maybe when she chucks him for someone else, you can make your move,” adds the second girl, who Ginny now suspects is Romilda’s eternal shadow, Vicky Frobisher. “You could try the love potion again-“

“So I can spend my Saturdays cleaning the owlery with a toothbrush again?” interjects Romilda with such disdain that Ginny can clearly picture the sneer on her face. “It’s not worth it. But you know...” Her voice has dropped low, conspiratorial. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Ginny’s slipped him a love potion of her own.”

Vicky gasps, far too dramatically than the situation warrants, and Ginny’s body shakes with silent laughter. “You really think so?”

“It would explain everything,” says Romilda. “Why else do you think they’re suddenly snogging all over the place?”

At this, Ginny bristles. Sure, there was that first kiss in the common room, and there have been a few corridor greetings that perhaps got out of hand, but for Merlin’s sake, it’s not like they’re Ron and Lavender.

“Plus, she’s got easy access,” adds Romilda. “Her brothers are the ones sending out the love potions, aren’t they? I bet she’s got an unlimited supply.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” replies Vicky, sounding awestruck. “If only you could prove it, then she’d get detention too-“

Romilda laughs - a harsh, mean cackle. “I’d pay good money to see her sweeping up owl droppings.”

It’s not exactly comfortable, perching atop a closed toilet seat, and this foray into espionage is eating into Ginny’s lunch hour. As she peers through the narrow gap between the stall door and the wall, she sees that Romilda and Vicky are quite caught up in applying shiny pink gloss to their lips.

She simply doesn’t have time for this. It’s taking too much time away from Harry, and they’ve got so little time together anyway. And so - even though she still has to wee - she climbs down off the seat, flushes the toilet, and unlocks the door.

The girls are frozen with shock as Ginny strides over to the sink right next to Romilda and turns the tap on full blast.

“Oh, hi there,” Ginny chirps, beaming at Romilda’s stunned reflection in the mirror. “Love that lip gloss on you. It’s very - erm-“ Clearing her throat, she runs a bar of soap over her palms. “Sparkly. Boys like that, do they?”

As she lathers her hands with soap - and she really scrubs, too, just to drag out the moment - a deliciously heavy silence descends upon them. Ginny goes about her business as though nothing’s out of the ordinary, rinsing the suds from her hands and drying them off, but inwardly she delights at the panicked glances between Romilda and Vicky.

“Well, I’d better be off,” says Ginny brightly, tossing her hair over one shoulder and making for the door. “Those love potions aren’t going to brew themselves, are they?”

When she gets to the Great Hall, she finds Harry seated alone at the Gryffindor table. It’s still surreal that she can do the things she does - place a hand on his shoulder as she approaches, lean in for a kiss that he eagerly reciprocates, seat herself right next to him on the bench - and yet somehow it’s natural too, easy, like they should have been doing this for months now already.

“Sorry I took so long,” says Ginny as she pours herself a glass of pumpkin juice. “I got held up a bit. Where’re these two?” She gestures across the table to the empty seats usually occupied by Ron and Hermione.

“The library, apparently,” replies Harry.

“Ron’s spending his lunch break in the library?”

“More like spending it wherever Hermione wants him to.”

“Right,” Ginny chuckles.

Harry’s hand finds her thigh under the table, the warmth of his fingertips burning through the fabric of her robes. “Did something happen?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you got held up, is everything all right?”

“Oh, that.” Ginny takes a sip of pumpkin juice to stall for time. “It’s nothing really, just - people are talking about us. And I happened to... overhear.”

She quickly summarizes the highlights of Romilda and Vicky’s conversation, and by the end, Harry’s shaking his head in disbelief... but he’s also on the verge of laughter.

And it is so good to see him laugh. It’s so good to see this lightness come over him, to see him relieved of the life he has to live. In the face of a truly happy Harry Potter, what’s a bit of gossip, really?

“I’m so sorry,” he says, shifting in his seat to face her as her hand covers his. “I’m sorry people talk about us, that they say those things about you-“

“I’m not bothered,” she tells him plainly, and she’s really not. It’s annoying, but it’s so trivial that it’s not worth the space in her brain. “Not if you’re not.”

His face draws closer to hers, so close that their foreheads nearly touch. “I’m not either.”

Their lips meet - and maybe, Ginny thinks, maybe she will go snogging him all over the place, because if that’s the reputation she’s got then she may as well embrace it - until her recollection of how all this came about triggers something in her brain.

“I’ll be right back,” she says as she clambers off the bench.

Harry puzzles up at her. “You just got here.”

“Weren’t you listening? I never actually got to wee, and now I really have to-“

And she hurries toward the door with the sound of Harry’s laughter flooding her ears.

[vindelllas]

the beauty of shatabhisha ✨⭕️

✨elizabeth berkley: shatabisha chandra

*A MAJOR TW FOR JUST ABOUT ANYTHING!! please put your mental health first and understand that nothing online is more important than your mental state love*

please also read my post on the mythology of rahu and ketu prior to reading this. it will allow you to better understand the nature of shatabhisha:

https://vindelllas.tumblr.com/post/643640120238555137/rahu-and-ketu-in-vedic-astrology-horoscope

👄 shatabhisha lies in the heart of the aquarius rashi. aquarius, being ruled by shani, creates a beautiful juxtaposition of exotic and hypnotizing features that garner the attention of the masses. in general, they could have basic features, but it is almost as if a magnetic film adorns their body to attract the attention of others. their facial structure is typically quite chiseled. shani is said to govern the bones, so they will particularly have great bodily structure overall, especially since aquarius is said to rule the legs (particularly the lower part of the legs). they prefer to have very prominent brows, depending on their time frame, their eyebrows are either very thin (1940s-60s, 90s-00s) or quite bushy (70s, 2010s-). rahu rules the mouth, lips, and teeth. you will notice that many shatabhisha natives will have famous scenes that involve the use of their mouth. such as, sarah michelle-geller’s famous kissing scene in “cruel intentions”, alicia silverstone’s famous chewing gum scene in “clueless”, winona ryder chewing licorice in “heathers”, etc.. even shatabhisha native cindy crawford was known for her pouty lips and has her own lipstick campaign. thanks to the suggestion of the lovely @/vediclover8 on twitter, popular model khawlah al anezi, shatabhisha chandra, has very prominent lips and often takes close-up pictures with her lips being the vocal point of the photograph. according to the bible, the lips denote the interior things of a person, their internal worship, from which is adoration, it is even used to represent a prophet. in the given passage below, the prophet’s lips were touched, and, thus, his iniquity was taken away and his sin expiated. this action is representative of our interior being signified by the lips, denoting charity and its doctrine.

💋Jehovah shall smite the earth with the rod of His mouth, and with the breath of His lips shall He slay the wicked (Isa. 11:4).

✨khawlah al anezi: shatabisha chandra

💄 there is great abundance within the lips. some cultures even believe the lips of a person to be the karaka of their soul. you may tell a great deal of a person based on their lips. hence, why shatabhishas (and other rahu natives) typically obtain larger lips, or other dramatic facial features in general. they wish to transcend cosmic perfection and embody the surreal beauty that almost hurts to look at. they want to be a dream-like being. it’s not unusual for them to favor dramatic facial features, as shani bestows this naturally to his nakshatra natives. however, rahu adds this insatiable and vain desire to obtain his wishes. this insatiable need to embody the collective desire influences them to work hard to obtain what they view to be perfection. they are no stranger to plastic surgery, intense work out routines (they typically have a good respiratory system for this, as rahu is the karaka of the lungs), and makeup and skincare. think of the shatabhisha natives like rihanna who owns tu the multimillion fenty skincare and makeup company or kesha who owns kesha rose, a new makeup line.

✨alicia silverstone: shatabhisha surya

🐉 however, shatabhisha does not want to embody the male fantasy or the status quo. unlike ardra, who wants to devote themselves to their partners, and swati, who naturally embodies the male fantasy. shatabhishas attract high levels of sexual attention because they cater to their own fantasy. this is because shatabhisha is the veil that separates us from the physical and astral plane. this veil subconsciously draws in the adoration and favor of the masses. recall prince, frank sinatra, and elvis presley—who are all shatabhisha natives. they have this highly transcendental nature that transports you to a time of simplicity and deep love. the masses view shatabhishas as this ideal being, this causes many of these natives to feel a great deal of pressure and have many cyclical patterns in their shadow state. what once gave them freedom becomes an entrapment ⭕️. this is why we see these natives reach a level of despair or destruction in their lives. their rahuvian fantasy they created becomes adopted by the masses and popularized. due to the grossing popularity of the traits that once brought individuality to the shatabhisha native, it loses it’s appeal after awhile and people are left continuously craving more from them. examine the undertone shifts of shatabhisha’s music below. you will notice this freshness and unique quality to their earlier music and a dull sense of finality in their later works:

🐎 elvis presley (shatabhisha chandra): “jailhouse rock” (1957) and “blue eyes crying in the rain” (1976)

🐎 prince (shatabhisha chandra): “raspberry beret” (1985) and somebody’s somebody (1996)

🐎 THE MOST SHATABHISHA ARTIST - johnny cash (shatabhisha surya and buddha): “i walk the line” (1957) and “hurt” (2002)

✨alice pagani: shatabhisha surya

⭕️ as discussed earlier, shatabhisha is the cosmic circle. they either have the choice of remaining in this cyclical state or transcending the confines of repetition. because shatabhisha is the height of rahu, the planet of obsessions, they fall prey to many behaviors and tools that rely on addiction and fiendish behaviors. the undoing and unraveling of these natives will be because of their craving for escape from being the middle man between the astral and physical planes. this escape typically comes in the form of addiction to drugs. drugs give these natives the false illusion of breaking the cosmic cycle and finding expansion in imprisonment. prince was addicted to percocets; michael jackson (shatabisha lagna) was addicted to opioids; johnny cash was addicted to cocaine; elvis presley was addicted to opiates and codeine; even the first men to have written about the scientific usages of cocaine, amerigo vespucci had shatabhisha ketu and karl koller had shatabhisha surya and shukra. the most famous drug lord billionaire pablo escobar had shatabhisha lagna. you will also find the primary reasoning for shatabhisha’s death is drug-related. this correlates to the meaning of ouroboros.

✨samantha robinson: shatabhisha chandra

🐍 the insatiable head of rahu and the cyclical expanse of the cosmic circle itself is reminiscent of ouroboros. ouroboros is an ancient symbol depicting a serpent or dragon eating it’s own tail. this symbol originated in ancient egyptian iconography, the ouroboros entered western tradition by greek traditions and became a prominent symbol for gnosticism, alchemy, and hermeticism. the term ouroboros derives from the greek term οὐροβόρος, οὐρά means 'tail' and βορός means'-eating'. it is a symbol often interpreted as the eternal cyclic renewal or the cycle of life, death, and rebirth (themes of shatabhisha). it’s symbolism has been used to describe the kundalini. the yoga-kundalini upanishad, defines this correlation as “the divine power, kundalini, shines like the stem of a young lotus; like a snake, coiled round upon herself she holds her tail in her mouth and lies resting half asleep as the base of the body”. the shedding of a snake’s skin also symbolizes the renewal of self, the snake biting its own tail is a fertility symbol in some religions, and the tail of the snake is a phallic symbol, the mouth is a yonic or womb-like symbol. which correlates to rahu being symbolized by the mouth; shatabhisha being of the most feminine and expansive yoni: the horse yoni; and rahu’s mahavidya, chinnamasta.

✨samara weaving: shatabhisha chandra

🩸 according to the panchatantra grantha, once parvati went with her friends, dakini and varnini, to take a bath in the mandakini river. parvati was elated and enveloped with love, causing her complexion to darken. her friends became hungry and asked parvati to give them some food. parvati asked them to wait and said that she would feed them soon and began walking. soon, her friends once again asked her for food and told her that she was the mother of the universe and the children. they used this reasoning to demand that their hunger be satiated immediately. the lovely parvati laughed and with her fingernail slit her own head. the blood immediately spurted into three directions. her two friends drank the blood from two of the directions and parvati herself drank the blood from the third direction. because parvati cut off her own head, she is known as the tantric mahavidya chinnamasta. chinnamasta is said to symbolize the courageous efforts needed to make the most inconceivable sacrifice for those you love. parvati’s severed head symbolizes the liberation of shatabhisha. as a person’s individual identity is a state of conditioning or limitation, dependent on qualities, think of shatabhisha natives’ susceptibility to illusions and narcotics. the action of decapitation reveals the true maternal being of the feminine yoni that is shatabhisha. which is unconditioned, infinite, and boundlessly free. this symbolism of freedom is reinforced by the aquarius rashi (the natural eleventh house of limitless gains) and chinnamasta’s nudity. her nudity symbolizes that she cannot be covered or contained by any garment, due to her finding abundance in infinity and self-government. to chinnamasta’s left, dakini is black and, to her right, varnini is red. chinnamasta herself is white. these three colors, black, red, and white, represent the three gunas. all three gunas belong to prakriti, the principle of materiality of all nature itself. it denotes that nothing exists or is birthed without the mother (parvati). it is she who is responsible for the limitless abundance of earth and satiates her children with her warm blood, like the milk of a mother or prana.

✨winona ryder: shatabhisha chandra

*i understand that many of you do not follow me on twitter so i want to include a revised thread on shatabhisha i made recently*

🌌 shatabhisha is the nakshatra of limitless possibilities. it is symbolized by the empty circle and a thousand stars/flowers. the deity of shatabhisha is varuna, the deity of the cosmic and terrestrial water, the sky and earth. he is the mystical healer and the lord of maya (illusion). shatabhisha is the final vimshottari nakshatra of rahu. it is here, rahu is calmed by shani, as shatabhisha lies in the aquarius rashi. aquarius is the natural auspicious eleventh house of the zodiac, the house of gains and strong income. it is the house of one’s aspirations and desires. indastro says the the eleventh house is the 5th from the 7th house, which represents our desires, thus, it refers to the fulfillment or the defiance of desires, which is why it is called the house of gains. the eleventh house is also representative of your social environment. this is why shatabishas, which lies in the heart of aquarius, naturally are aware of the desires of others and help you realize what you wish to do in your lifetime. friendship is important to them and likely comes easy to them, almost to the point of obsession.

💐 in the netflix show “baby”, shatabhisha surya native alice pagani plays an underage pr*stitute who ends up befriending an “innocent” and seemingly kind girl (chiara). alice lives a life of not caring about the consequences of her actions, failing school, drinking alcohol, and being an esc*rt. chiara lives a life of craving perfection, great grades, and promise. alice’s character exposes chiara to her world of sugaring. although reluctant to the lifestyle at first, chiara begins to become obsessed with the sugar lifestyle and it becomes the only thing she wants. alice’s character starts to slowly feel trapped by that lifestyle and no longer wants to participate in those behaviors. in the movie “une fille facile”, sofia (played by shatabisha surya native zahia dehar) plays an esc*rt who stays with her innocent cousin in the summer. sofia is promiscuous, care-free, and marches to the beat of her own drum. whereas, her cousin is depicted as a nervous, intelligent, and “pure” person. sofia enjoys taunting older men and enjoying the luxuries of sugaring. her cousin idolizes her lifestyle and wants to be exactly like her, copying her style and even getting her exact same tattoo. chiara and alice pagani’s characters get matching tattoos as well (more on rahu’s tattoo symbolism below). sofia’s cousin becomes obsessed with sofia and, due to amounting circumstances, sofia can no longer take her wanton lifestyle and up and leaves her cousin.

⛓ in “baby”, we saw shatabhisha native alice exposing her friend to the world of sugaring. in “une fille facile”, sofia, another underage esc*rt, exposes her innocent cousin to the world of sugaring. in both storylines, the innocent friend becomes entrenched by the enamoring powers of such a dangerous and expansive lifestyle of shatabhisha and becomes obsessed with both them and their lifestyle. whereas, the shatabhisha natives eventually wake up and realize that the life they are living is what they no longer want. however, their friends are now completely obsessed with their newfound taste of freedom and take issue with leaving their the shatabhisha old friend’s lifestyle. the shatabhisha native ends up feeling trapped and reaches a breaking point and leaves. this is because rahu is the planet of obsession and desires. he is quickly fueled by the magnetic popularity he receives in the eleventh house, but these natives quickly feel trapped and restricted by what they once regarded as their friends.

🪞see, varuna reminds me of the esoteric meaning of the mirror, i know the mirror is said to be inherently venusian, but there is power in the vibrations of your reflection. mirrors are directly linked to the astral plane and are a neutral, but illusionary, device as well. it is all about the vibrations you put into the mirror, because you will receive it directly back. the obsession of one’s appearance and outer reflection is here in shatabhisha. until, eventually, they either embrace the ouroboros and kundalini powers of maya or snap. the limitless expansion within themselves creates this unnerving attraction and causes many individuals to crave to see the shatabhisha native they so wholeheartedly desire staring back at themselves in their reflection. it is like the expansive nature of shatabhisha causes those around them to become consumed and reborn by the shatabhisha native’s ether. it is literally like they give life (whether it is positive or negative) to people. people will resent their unbelievable beauty and carefree nature and people will then walk all over them for it. how the shatabhisha native reacts to this is entirely up to them.

🔪 some other examples of this is are shatabhisha chandra native alice silverstone as ‘cher’ in “clueless” (as suggested by @/vanillemercure on twitter). cher is depicted as a popular and upbeat teenager who has a special penchant for fashion. cher decides to makeover the new girl in school: tai. she tries to make tai into a popular, more fashionable girl. tai was originally quite impressionable and looked up to the opinions of cher. once she was made over, people began to notice her more and fawn over her beauty. this eventually goes over her head and causes her to start to neglect cher and not care about her. due to cher and tai’s fight over a boy, cher reaches a breaking point and realizes the life she truly wants to live and the love she longs for. in “cruel intentions”, shatabhisha chandra sarah michelle-gellar plays kathryn. kathryn seems like your stereotypical shallow rich girl with dark tendencies. she does not care for following the rules and lives as she pleases. she makes a seductive deal with her frenemie sebastian to see if he can take the v*rginity of the new headmaster’s daughter. only, once sebastian starts to get to the know the headmaster’s daughter, he realizes the cruelty of their wager. kathryn is outted for her terrible and harsh past and habits. her reputation (illusion/maya) is completely shattered and destroyed. winona ryder (shatabisha chandra) played ‘veronica’ in the film “heathers”. veronica is a part of the most popular clique at her high school, but she disapproves of the other girls' cruel behavior. when veronica and her new boyfriend, j.d., confront the leader of the popular clique and accidentally poison her, they make it appear a suicide. veronica realizes that j.d. is intentionally killing students he does not like. eventually, she too reaches a breaking point, after stopping j.d. from killing the whole school. she stops trying to fit in with popular clique and realizes life truly has both none and infinite meanings. the same applies to her character in the movie “girl, interrupted”. shatabisha chandra samara weaving plays ‘grace’ in “ready or not”. grace could not be happier after she marries the man of her dreams at his family's luxurious estate. however, she must hide from midnight until dawn while her new in-laws hunt her down with guns, crossbows and other weapons. grace desperately tries to survive the night and continuous comes up with clever ways to save her life. once grace survives the night, her in-laws still continue to try to kill her. however, they are unsuccessful and all attempts are ceased when they start to blow up in front of her. she laughs at their attempts, while she is covered in their blood. she has broken free from her in-laws heinous acts (the cyclical force) against her and embodied the devil himself (prying the veil between the physical and astral plane). shatabhisha is all about you reap what you sow. they are the expansive reality of maya. they are fully aware of the presence of the divine collective and the power of consciousness. they do not care about what is inherently evil or divine, as they know that life is essentially both. it transcends the need for labels. shatabhisha is rebirth and renewal. it’s obsession and transcendence. once they pass the defining stage of their life, they realize that most of the people in this world are just hollow shells bending to the will of the divine collective.

🌠 recall that the aforementioned characters are known for their independence, exactly like chinnamasta. people look to these natives and wish for them to behave as parvati, the cosmic mother. they want these shatabhisha natives to pour their essence into them to feed their uncontrollable longings. like dakini and varnini, their friends and the masses will continuously remind them of their needs and wants (recalling the eleventh house) and feel as if the shatabhisha native owes them happiness and fulfillment.

✨sarah michelle-geller: shatabhisha chandra

💉 rahu is also associated with tattoos, especially the ardra nakshatra. as ardra is the planetary intermingling of the energies of rahu and buddha. buddha, who is also known for bestowing a love for tattoos, is a friend of rahu. rahu is illusionary in nature so the natives of rahu pay great attention to their appearance. in ardra, we see the use of tattoos to simply express who they are. like ardra native margot robbie who has stated many times she enjoys tattooing smiley faces on the toes of her friends. in swati, we see them using tattoos to help reinforce their image. think of swati native adriana lima who has a curved, sharp tattoo on her left ankle. she reportedly got this tattoo during her “rebellious” years and wanted something to commemorate it. in shatabhisha, we see these natives want to adorn themselves with something that is unique and conveys who they truly are. think of erykah badu (shatabhisha surya) who infamously got “allah” tattooed in arabic on her bare shoulders. rihanna (shatabhisha surya) who got the egyptian goddess isis under her breasts to pay tribute to her grandmother and matching star tattoos on the back of her neck to match her ex. this matching tattoo phenomena is a theme of shatabhisha. remember the matching tattoos in “baby” and “une fille facile”. victoria beckham (shatabhisha shukra and brihaspati) and david beckham got the same quote tattooed for their sixth anniversary. sophie turner (shatabhisha surya and mars) and joe jonas have several matching tattoos. macaulay caulkin (shatabhisha chandra) and paris jackson (shatabhisha brihaspati) got matching spoon tattoos. this all correlates to aquarius being the house of great friendship and rahu’s inclination for foreign bodily adornment and niche subcultures, birthing a significant need for finding themselves in hidden meanings (like tattoos, ouroboros, or other occultic topics).

✨drew barrymore: shatabhisha surya

👁 in shatabhisha, you either free yourself from the demands of others and the cyclical nature of life (chinnamasta) or drown in illusion (varuna). i want to close with exploring more of the meanings of ouroboros. in norse mythology, the ouroboros appears as the serpent, named jörmungandr, one of the three children of loki and angrboda. jörmungdar grew so large that it could encircle the world and grasp its tail in its teeth. according to the legends of ragnar lodbrok, the geatish king herraud offers a small lindworm as a gift to his daughter, рora town-hart, the lindworm grows into a large serpent which encircles his daughter’s bedroom and bites itself in the tail. the serpent is then slain by ragnar lodbrok who marries the daughter. ragnar later has a son with another woman named kráka. his son is born with the image of a white snake in one eye. the snake encircled his iris and bit itself in the tail, and, thus, the son was named sigurd snake-in-the-eye. amongst the indigenous people of south america, they believe that the waters at the edge of the disc-shaped world are encircled by a snake, particularly an anaconda, biting its own tail. even in the book of leviathan, the leviathan is a singular creature with no mating partners, whose “tail is placed in its mouth". the phenomena of ouroboros even goes back as far as the poems of kalir (a hebrew poet who wrote classical verses) in the 6th-7th centuries CE. the indigenous people of south america’s emphasis of the circulation of an anaconda around the earth is reminiscent of varuna (the deity of shatabhisha). varuna is the god of the oceans like the anaconda snake who theoretically encapsulates the ocean. varuna’s vehicle is the makara (the crocodile) like the movie “lake placid vs. anaconda”, starring yancy butler (shatabhisha ketu). it is a cheesy film about a town sheriff who has to find a way to kill a gigantic crocodile and anaconda before they kill and destroy the whole town. this is the essence of the uncontrollable nature of varuna. he is a deity that believes in the equilibrium harmony between the “good” and “bad”. these descriptive adjectives do not even exist to varuna, as he is the fluidic being of ether and water. he will allow you to reach your fullest potential and guide you through your earthly desires. hence, sigurd snake-in-the-eye who was born of the earthly desire of his father to move onto another woman. the child received a snake in his eye, both symbolizing the circulatory nature of shatabhisha and rahu’s bestowment of mesmerizing and maya-like (illusionary) eyes. this is due to the eyes being reportedly a “window to the soul”. the more captivating and mesmerizing your eyes are, the more intoxicating and beautiful your soul may seem.

✨cindy crawford: shatabhisha surya

as always, i am open to any constructive criticism! i tried to touch on the appearances, manifestations, and symbolism of shatabhisha and i hope i did these hypnotizing natives justice! shatabhisha is genuinely such an expansive, captivating, and transcendental nakshatra ⭕️🐍 these natives seem to always give off a completely otherworldly presence via their exotic features and them being the cosmic veil. if you are looking for more information about shatabhisha, get to know the overrulers and supreme deities of saturn, yama (god of death) and prajapati (the creator) and rahu, durga (the goddess of power) and the serpent god. also—and i cannot stress this enough—familiarize yourself with the deity of this nakshatra: varuna. if any of my placements or information are incorrect please feel free to let me know! also, i am fully aware of the origins of vedic astrology and if i was in anyway disrespectful to hindu culture, i will take down this post immediately xx

**all of these placements were found using astrotheme/.com and/or astro-charts/.com. it is important to note that some chandra (moon) placements may be off by up to 6 degrees and lagnas (risings) as well, due to the fact that many websites do not have 100% accurate birth times for the given celebrities.

**i take absolutely no credit for the invention of vedic astrology-based appearance profiles. please watch claire nakti on youtube or look into @/cn0bles, @/lovejustlied, @/dh4nishta, and @/vanillemercure on twitter for more in-depth analysis on vedic astrology xx

[potatosapien5]

So, what's going on with Kulindadromeus's tail?

If you know about the debate of how/when feathers originated in dinosaurs, you’ve likely heard of Kulindadromeus zabaikalicus, an early neornithischian dinosaur. 

(Source: Wikipedia)

Now, the interesting thing about Kulindadromeus is the fact that it has feather-like filaments covering most of its body. 

(Source: Wikipedia)

This is one of only a few ornithischian dinosaurs preserved with feather-like structures, and it does provide a lot in favor of feather-like structures being, at the very least, ancestral to Dinosauria, or even possibly Ornithodira. 

There has been some doubt cast on whether the filaments of Kulindadromeus are actually homologous to feathers/protofeathers, or just a case of convergent evolution, but in my opinion, it makes the most sense for them to be homologous. The new research coming out with pterosaurs having colorful “fur”, and the increasing number of dinosaurs found with dino fuzz just leads me to feel it would be more surprising if evidence shows up that proves protofeathers aren’t ancestral to Ornithodira. 

But my unprofessional opinion isn’t actually what I’m focusing on today. I’m actually focusing on something completely different, something everybody seems to have overlooked, despite it being glaringly obvious. 

What in the world is going on with Kulindadromeus’s tail? 

Its integument wasn’t actually covering its whole body. Unsurprisingly, it had scaly hands and feet, but in addition, it had a “hairless” tail covered in rectangular scales. 

(Source: Wikipedia)

A fully scaly tail. On a very fuzzy animal. 

For some reason, I haven’t seen anyone bring this up yet. Maybe somewhere in the depths of Reddit comments would you find a few asking about it, but there haven’t been any in depth discussions of why Kulindadromeus’s tail was bald, and what it was used for. I guess that means I’ll have to take a shot at it. 

Be warned: this is simply the speculative ramblings of an amatuer paleoartist. None of this is scientific fact, and a lot of it might even be very easily proven wrong. But someone had to do this. 

So, the first thing I noticed about this guy was that its tail looked pretty similar to a rat’s. And the more I looked into it, the more similar it seemed. 

So rats have interesting tails. A rat tail actually has a few key roles. The first one is actually thermoregulation. 

Rat tails have no fur, along with a large surface to volume ratio, meaning they can shed heat quite well through a system of blood vessels. This can help cool a rat down when it gets too hot. 

(Source: Rat Tails)

Rats also do this thing with their tails called degloving. When they are being attacked or feel threatened, they can shed the skin on their tails, leaving the skin behind, and having the remaining tail heal over. This has several problems, the first being that shedding their skin leaves the underlying tissue open to the elements, and, of course, harmful pathogens. It can be easy for the tail to get infected, causing even more problems. 

… 

No, I’m not gonna show you a picture. Go look it up if you want, but I wouldn’t recommend you to. Just imagine what it looks like when you pull a nail off, but ten times worse, and on a tail, and you’ve basically got the picture. 

But somehow, despite the whole degloving thing being way more trouble than it’s worth, rats and their relatives continued on with this fun, painful defense mechanism. Great. 

The third use is for keeping balance. There’s not much to say here, rats use their tails to stay stable on whatever they’re climbing on. I suppose you could say dinosaurs do something similar? It’s been hypothesized that they use their tails as rudders when running or jumping, especially with dromaeosaurs. And one of the big reasons they had such long, stiff tails was to help balance the weight of their front half, since they only had two legs. Actually, that could be why animals such as derived sauropods and ceratopsians had such reduced tails; they were well adapted quadrupeds, they didn’t need long, heavy tails anymore. (Ignoring birds and some maniraptorans, as they had shifted their center of mass somewhat, and the same rules didn’t quite apply to them.)

(Source: Rat Tails)

Now in terms of Kulindadromeus, there are a couple hypotheses I want to make. 

The first is probably pretty simple, and a little less speculative: Kulindadromeus could have used its bare tail for thermoregulation, helping it stay cool. This isn’t too out there, as many modern, avian dinosaurs have bare patches of skin to aid in thermoregulation. Some non-avian dinosaurs have been hypothesized to have thermoregulatory structures, such as the stegosaurs(plates), sauropods(hollow skull, neck/spines), Spinosaurus(sail), and even theropods such as T. rex have been suggested to have lost their feathers as they evolved to be bigger in warmer environments, just like elephants did. 

But this idea is gonna be weird, and probably wrong, but it’s really fun to think about. 

Kulindadromeus could have shed its scales to escape predators, using the same degloving behavior rats use today. 

There are a few problems I ran into with this idea. At first, I briefly toyed around with the idea of the animal losing the whole tail, like a lizard might. But the lizards that do this have very specialized anatomy to make sure their tails detach cleanly/can grow back, and even then the tails rarely grow back well. They’re wonky looking, and mostly exist only to distract any predators from their much more vital heads. 

Of course, basically no non-avian dinosaur could realistically do this, especially not Kulindadromeus, as it was a fast biped that relied on its tail to keep itself stable. If it lost its tail, it wouldn’t just be an inconvenience, it would likely cripple its movement. That’s not even mentioning how I don’t know any archosaurs, living or extinct, that have adaptations for this. Maybe there’s some obscure Triassic creature I’m missing, but likely no dinosaurs could.  So I had to move on to something different. 

I thought up a couple different ways it could only lose its skin, not its whole tail. First there was the lizard-like shedding idea, where it would come off just like a snake skin, but this didn’t make much sense, as I’m pretty sure no scaly archosaur does this. Instead at the very least crocodilians shed their scales more like mammals shed skin: slowly, and over time, not in molts. Maybe it’s possible Kulindadromeus could’ve evolved something different, but I’m doubting it. 

The most likely idea is the degloving method that rats use. This way, Kulindadromeus can still shed like a crocodilian/bird, but also have the scales on its tail rip off as a defense. It would be a realistic escape strategy, but wouldn’t just let the poor guy off the hook, it would cause significant pain, and wouldn’t be easy to deal with. But if it only lost a small amount of the tail, and it healed properly, it could go back to its happy Kulindadromeus life, doing whatever it is Kulindadromeus do. 

(Source: Me! And some references featured in this post.)

There’s one remaining problem: I don’t know the biomechanics of archosaur scales. I know birds can shed their tail feathers, but pennaceous feathers are very separated from non-feather derived scales plus primitive feathers. Would the scales be too deeply set to lose? Even if they weren’t osteoderms(as they likely weren’t), did they still function differently from non-archosaur scales? How would this correlate to mammals losing skin? Skin is a very different integument to scales, and I don’t know if the process rats go through would translate very well to dinosaurs. 

If anyone has any answers, feel free to let me know. If anyone has anything to add onto this, once again, feel free! I’d love to get some feedback, and maybe start building some more ideas. 

Resources/credits: 

Kulindadromeus - Wikipedia 

Rat Tails 

Rat - Wikipedia 

Sauropod Dinosaurs Could Have Used Their Long Necks as Radiators 

Degloving Injury – Rat Guide 

Ratropolis: What to Do for a Degloved Tail 

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

Halloween Oreos (Michael Myers x Reader)

Original Ask: How about some snack time with Micheal uwu sharing Halloween oreos with his s/o or someone me whose getting close to him. Perhaps they buy him some huehue

_____________

Haddonfield had become a rather quiet place following the Halloween murders, the following years becoming somewhat grim.

Halloween was no longer the same, or at least it was something that made the residents of Haddonfield tense up. Even after thirteen years, people were sometimes too afraid to speak the Boogeyman’s name. At least, people finally came out of their homes, as if the plague was already over with. After thirteen years, one could have said that the Boogeyman was no more.

October had finally come around, and this year Haddonfield was gifted with a veil of fresh white snow on just the third day of the month.

You grunted as you fixed the plastic bags in your hands, the mittens you wore making it somewhat difficult to properly hold them.Today was the day to go out for groceries, a task you only did every now and then due to your current living condition.

“Need help there?” you heard a voice behind you, prompting you to turn and see the cashier that had rung you up in the grocery store.

“Oh! Ah,” you gave a nervous chuckle as you once again fixed the plastic bags. “I-I can bear, thank you though.”

“I really don’t mind lending a hand, especially in this weather.”

“It’s alright.” you insisted, especially after a chill ran down your back, your eyes glancing around as an uneasy feeling came over you. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I just need to get going right now. Somebody’s waiting for me.”

“Ah, I see.” he nodded, taking a step back as you sighed in relief. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Thank you, have a nice day.” you nodded as well, not bothering to watch him leave as you knew the consequences of such things.

As you headed to your car, you took notice of a news crew that had stationed itself across the road, right at a sidewalk that led to another array of stores. The crew was specifically focused on a hardware store that had its glass windows broken, even the farthest eye could see the bloody handprints that were splattered on the walls inside as well as other blood prints.

You shivered at the thought of what had gone down inside, instead focusing on the trunk of your car before loading everything inside. Not paying much attention to the camera crew, or at least not wanting to do so, you hopped into your car to drive out of town. But not before taking a good look at your surroundings, on edge about the eyes that were possibly watching your every move.

_____________

Home was a rather lengthy ride, no more than an hour’s time thankfully, but the searching for it was what made up for that isolation you required. Considering the situation you lived in, your partially preferred living arrangements lie in the woods outside of town, where things were calm and quiet.

Hopping out of your car, you felt as the snow began to fall once again. This meant that in the morning, the veil would be much thicker and there was no going out, especially as your small home was situated in a deep part of the woods.

Hearing your boots with every step, you unloaded the groceries which would definitely be taking more than one go. You made your way towards the cabin in front of you, coming to stop after walking onto the porch as your eyes caught crimson.

Right on the wood were boot prints, every single one as red as the blood from the hardware store.

Your eyes followed the trail that led to the door itself, and you took notice of it being ajar.

Dropping the bags onto the porch, you placed a hand on the door to cautiously take a step inside. The creak of the door was enough to have you jump back the slightest bit, especially as your eyes continued to examine the trail of blood that led into the kitchen.

Now, you knew not to act like a girl in a horror movie but…

“Hello?” you called out into the emptiness of your home, holding your keys close to either fight with them or immediately flee to the car. “Is that you-”

Soon enough your scream pierced the air as you jumped off the ground, this due to feeling a rough hand clasp onto your shoulder from behind.

Once you had turned around, you groaned at the sight of an older man that stared down at you with dead eyes.

“Michael!” you yelled at him, then fixing your jacket which had slightly crumpled up at the shoulder where you had been grabbed. “I thought you were someone else.”

The man before you in no way flinched, not even bothering to blink as he continued to watch your every move.

“You leave in the middle of the night without a word and leave me alone all day.” you mentioned before passing by him, knowing that he turned his entire body to always be facing you. “Well now that you’re done with scaring the hell out of me, I’m done with the groceries. Won’t need to go out until January I think. I hope so, since it’s starting to get pretty cold out.”

Michael Myers, the Shape or Boogeyman of Haddonfield, stood right at your door with not a care in the world. If anything, your door to your house, was his door to his house. It had been this way for quite awhile now.

A few years actually.

It was surprising that he was not wearing his mask, his blue and clouded eye completely fixated on your figure as you grabbed the bags right at the entrance.

Once you had grabbed the bags at the door and then the remaining ones in the car, you shut and locked the door before being followed by Michael into the kitchen.

After he had spared you years back, Michael had come to act like a cat. Always with his nose on the lookout for what it is you would be feeding him. Hilariously, that was just how Michael reluctantly came into your life.

“I haven’t prepared anything since I’ve been out most of the day.” you admitted, ever so quietly laughing at the soft groan that rumble in Michael’s throat. “I did find some sweet goodies at the market though. Especially at WalMart.”

Michael didn’t always understand the things you talked about, but he was always listening. Always watching. Learning.

“They have these new cookies for the season. The orange looks kind of funny, but I’m pretty sure they taste the same as the originals.” you mentioned as you set the groceries on the counter, looking through the bags as you began to put everything in its place. “I also got you some stuff to shave off that scruff.”

Michael’s eyes darted down in an attempt to look at his chin, instead seeing you hand placed under it as you softly rubbed your thumb on it.

“Though I have to admit that it’s starting to grow on me.” you smiled before making your way back to the groceries. “Just like the greys in your hair.”

It really had been a few years since you had met Michael, a relationship forming after a pretty good while. He was in his mid-twenties, practically a middle-aged man now who hadn’t been found by the authorities this entire time thanks to you.

As you began to prepare a hot beverage for yourself, and Michael who you knew would ignore it but drink it behind your back, you knew that Michael was watching you intently. His eyes were glued on your hands that grabbed a pumpkin you had purchased. Somehow, he had not even realized the large vegetable as you brought it in.

“Found a recipe you might like, especially for the cold.” you spoke before grabbing a kitchen knife, one that piqued Michale’s interest but was not enough to have him snatching it away due to its size. “Especially with all the pumpkins that are out now.”

To his dissatisfaction, you set the knife down besides the pumpkin on the counter before facing him.

“But before I make that, I’m gonna go change. These clothes are starting to make me feel stuffy.” you removed your jacket as you walked around the counter and out the kitchen, for once not being followed by Michael who was now focused on the knife you had left behind.

Knowing that you would be too focused on finding one of his shirts to wear, he approached the counter to take hold of the knife, bringing it to his face to admire how it shone under the kitchen light. He first held it pointing upwards, but changed it so that he was instead gripping it with the blade pointing down. His head craned to the vegetable beside him, and instinct got the best of him.

“I see you got started with the pumpkin.” he heard your voice, turning around after having jabbed the knife down into the pumpkin which had more than a simple wound.

Michael grabbed the knife once again to pull it out, his entire body facing you once again as he tilted his head at your figure.

Your eyes fell to the knife that contained a bit of pumpkin residue, even a seed or two managed to slip out due to Michael’s brute strength. Now your eyes were on his blank features, and you couldn’t help but give him a smirk.

_____________

It wasn’t often that you lit the fireplace as to avoid any attention from outsiders, especially authorities who had honestly given up on the search for Michael despite his former psychiatrist’s demands, but you believed that tonight was just the night for a warm fire.

Despite the cold weather, you only wore one of Michael’s shirts with socks, perhaps a little something on your bottom. You figured that there wasn’t an entire need for covering yourself when Michael was your human blanket, and one that refused to come off you.

With all of the day’s work done, you sat on the couch, or more like Michael’s lap as he sat on the couch. Your legs were crossed as your torso was constricted by Michael’s strong arms, his chin casually laying on top of your head as you ate the last of your pumpkin soup.

Both pairs of eyes stared up ahead, almost next to the fireplace where your TV screen was placed. You were both watching the moving pictures, or at least Michael resumed that when you made comments about the movie.

“That’s so cheesy, no girl would scream and faint on the spot if she saw a monster.” you ever so slightly shook your head, Michael’s chin too heavy to actually complete the motion. “At least, nowadays. However, that looked like that one scene from the latest Child’s Play movie where the guy has a heart attack.”

It was an old monster movie kind of night, your mood demanding it and Michael no doubt being curious. Frankenstein actually seemed to catch his attention.

The man’s eyes glanced down at you as he saw your arms stretch out with your empty bowl, attempting to put it on the coffee table in front of the couch. This of course was quite impossible with Michael holding you back, his grip on you only becoming tighter as you were managing to barely escape his grasp.

“Michael!” you groaned, pulling your head forwards until his arms made a ring around your hips after you were able to snake the top part of your body out.

As you reached out to set the bowl down, you felt Michael bury his face right into your back before rubbing himself all over and taking in your scent simultaneously.

“I just want to put the damn bowl down.” you wheezed, eventually releasing a sigh of relief when your glass bowl safely landed on the table. But it made you also pleased to have grabbed the plate you had prepared along with the bowls of soup, making sure it or its contents didn’t slip out of your hands as you adjusted your body to the former position.

Michael gave a grunt as he placed his chin on your head again, this time making sure that you had no way of escaping him.

“You wanna try one, Michael?” you lifted the plate just a bit, having Michael peer down at the plate that contained black little circles that smelled weirdly to him. “They’re the newest Oreos. The cookies I mentioned earlier.”

You placed the plate on your lap, wishing that that was enough to hold them up while you took one of the cookies and offered it up to Michael.

“I don’t have any milk right now because you’re not gonna let me get any, so take it like this.

Michael squinted at the cookie, the orange filling enough to have him blinking at least once. In this state of his, you were able to break free and spin your body in place so that your legs were no longer crossed but instead on either side of Michaels’ waist. The plate of cookies was safely put on the empty space of the couch so that nothing could fall.

Having a mind of their own, Michael’s hands wrapped themselves around you as he once again stared at the cookie.

“It’s just a cookie Michael.” you giggled, lowering it before taking a bite out of it yourself.

Michael’s eyes landed on your lips, watching the way they moved as you chewed the cookie piece. Tiny black crumbs adorned your lips, every now and then shifting the more you chewed.

You watched him as well, finding it how funny his curiosity was. So, you popped in the remainder of your cookie before eating it as well, now feeling one of Michael’s arms leave your waist.

Instead, his fingers brushed against the warmth of your skin as his nails carefully scraped your cheeks. The tips of his fingers now coming close to your lips, his index finger actually on your bottom lip before it pulled it down and open.

“Michael,” you breathed out, knowing that Michael was merely observing the crumbs left on your lips.

Blinking up at Michael, you saw as he brought his face down to yours. His lips now dangerously close to yours as he continued to play with your bottom lip, making your breath hitch as he neared more and more.

Soon enough you closed your eyes when Michael closed the gasp, but not with his lips but his tongue.

Your eyes shot open as you felt his tongue lick the corner of your lip, continuing onto your lips themselves. You placed your hands on his shoulders, gripping onto them as you felt his own twist around the shirt you wore.

Your lips had already been parted from the shock of Michael’s actions, that good enough for Michael to slip in his tongue to get a taste of your mouth.

He didn’t care about your nails digging into his shoulders but in fact enjoyed it, pressing your chest against his as his tongue continued to explore your cavern, tasting every bit he could. But before you could follow along with his treatment, Michael retreated himself and looked down at you with half-lidded eyes that matched yours. Well, his didn’t have as much emotion as yours for he was difficult to faze of course.

“Michael?” you sighed at him, thoughts clouded with what just happened. You were then snapped out of it when Michael let go of you with one hand, reaching to the side where the plate of cookies was.

He had grabbed another one, bringing up in between your faces and leaving it there for just a moment. Soon after, he brought it to your lips, scraping it against them before slowly slipping it in so that you could take a bite.

As you chewed the cookie, Michael took the other piece into his mouth, leaving the two of you with crumbs on each of your lips.

His tongue slid out once again, licking the crumbs off of his lips before you got the memo.

The flush on your cheeks was more than enough to warm you up on this chilly October night.

[digital-dhampirs]

thank you very much for the ask, @kachowwwww !

I did do a covernalysis for Vol 3, which you can read here: [https://digital-dhampirs.tumblr.com/post/168641851375/here-it-is-the-beautiful-twosome-vanitas-no ], but after staring at the cover of the volume for a little while I’ve started to notice some stuff I didn’t see way back in my original post from 2017. So! I will be doing an all new (hopefully improved) covernalysis four years later! oh by the holy glow of the blue moon it’s been four years

this is technically a part 2, but it’s completely separate from the first part! feel free to just read one or the other..!

VnC Volume 3 covernalysis: part 2

Volume 3 is our first cover featuring multiple characters together, and boy is it a fantastic way to start the trend! Vanitas and Noé lie peacefully in a pool of water, a golden frame between them. There is a Lot going on here, so let’s get started with breaking down the frame!

Volume 3’s golden frame is absolutely dripping in Chasseur imagery— the frame is decorated with stacks of skulls similar to those in the catacombs, the design in the frame’s corners is just like the Chasseurs’ six- winged sword symbol, and at the top of the frame we see the high- ranking vampire skull Roland shows our protagonists in chapter 14. Vol 3 contains chapters 11 through 15 of the manga— the time leading up to and the beginning of Vanitas and Noé’s adventures in the catacombs— so these Chasseur designs seem very relevant. We see one of those ever- present butterflies perched on the dead vampire’s skull, a symbol of transformation and rebirth.

We also see daisies growing in one section of the frame, possibly symbolizing innocence, purity, rebirth, fidelity, and/ or new beginnings. Maybe these daisies symbolize the new developments for Vanitas and Noé’s relationship during and after the events in the catacombs? Or maybe they’re a callback to an old Celtic myth in which daisies grew to console parents after the loss of a child? Or maybe something else!

The other plant featured on this frame is ivy— a symbol of attachment, immortality, fidelity, and eternity. Both daisies and ivy have something to do with eternal life and eternal faithfulness, which is very interesting considering Vanitas’s eventual demise. Ivy is a plant that holds on to things and doesn’t let go, which is pretty neat considering the events of chapter 53..!

There’s one last part of the volume 3 frame I want to mention before moving on to the rest of the cover— the skeletal hands adorning it. Two of the hands are holding the inside edges of the frame, reminiscent of the hands on Vanitas’s frame in volume 1, and two more are holding the vampire skull in a manner eerily similar to the way the Teacher’s hands frame Noé’s face on the cover of Volume 2.

The volume 3 frame has a lot of lil details combining aspects of Vanitas and Noé’s frames from the two previous volumes— the rectangular shape of Vani’s frame with the skull at the top, the row of beads and stick bone decoration thingys (if anyone knows what those things are please tell me I’ve been wondering what they are for literal years at this point) from Noé’s frame, the skeleton hands from volume 1 in the Teacher’s position from volume 2… the Volume 3 frame might have a lot of chasseur elements, but it’s also a combination of Vanitas and Noé’s symbolic details, once again indicating the pair’s developing relationship.

And with that I think we’re finally done with the frame! Now it’s time to tackle the main subject of this ask, the boys themselves.

Vanitas, smirking, shows his mark from Luna to the viewer. The Book of Vanitas rests on his stomach, and he has two more marks of possession on display— Jeanne’s mark, which is bright red, and a duller purple mark on the other side of his neck. We don’t know who this third mark is from yet, but just based on the mark’s color palette it seems pretty likely it’s from Noé. Unlike the marks from Luna and Jeanne, though, the purple mark isn’t leaking out onto Vanitas’s clothes— it’s just there, like a bruise, and the only place its color is really echoed is on the Book. I don’t really know what this means and I suspect we won’t find out until Noé drinks Vanitas’s blood in uhm… chapter… 105… but it’s a notable difference nonetheless!

Moving from Vanitas to his partner in crime! Noé is lying above Vanitas, with the chain from the Book of Vanitas wrapped around his arm. He’s wearing the comfortable sleep clothes he wore in chapter 11 and seems to be calmly watching Vani as the latter shows off his mark from Luna. Noé’s right hand is resting on the Book of Vanitas’s chain, but he isn’t trying to remove it or snap it, he’s just touching it.

The chain around Noé’s arm reminds me quite a bit of another piece of official art,

But on the Volume 3 cover, the chain around Noé’s arm is Noé’s classic purple-magenta color, rather than Vanitas’s cobalt blue like it is in the official art. This difference in color (along with the drastically different poses between the cover and the official art) makes the official art look far more aggressive and confrontational, while the cover image looks much more peaceful and relaxed despite the chain.

The chain’s color on the Vol 3 cover makes me think that, unlike in the official art, Noé is in control of what’s going on and is choosing to keep things this way. He could get rid of the chain at any time, but keeps it wrapped around his arm. In a way, it’s tying him and Vanitas together rather than dragging them apart.

So we’ve covered the frame, we’ve talked about our protagonists… all that’s left to talk about from this cover is the background/ whatever’s going on with the water Noé and Vani are lying in! And honestly? This is another one of those things I have no ideas about. Water symbolizes a lot of things— life, purity, the moon, transformation, and a whole lot more. But I don’t quite know why Vanitas and Noé are lying in it beyond ‘it looks very pretty’.

One thing I do know for sure, though, is that there are shards of glass lying in the water with the boys. Where might those shards have come from…? My best guess is that the frame between Vani and Noé was originally a complete mirror or picture frame made out of glass, but at some point it was shattered, and now the boys are able to lie down side by side between it.

The internal walls separating Noé and Vanitas start to crumble with their argument during the ball and conversation on the roof, and fall apart a bit more during their time in the catacombs. It’ll still be a very very long time before they can even approach the idea of fully understanding each other, but at this point in the manga they’re slowly getting closer and learning to walk side by side.

Annnnnd with that, I think this covernalysis is complete! For now. Thank you so much for reading this ridiculously wordy covernalysis, and thanks again for this ask! Thinking over a cover again four years after my initial analysis was a truly unique experience— maybe in 2025 I’ll come back to this cover one more time and cringe at this analysis the same way I’m currently cringing over my 2017 cover breakdown. Hope you enjoyed this meta/ analysis/ confused rambling thing!

Fun Fact

This volume’s inside cover features the lovely Dominique! Domi doesn’t feature too heavily in this volume, but she plays a major role in Chapter 12, and we learn a lot about her true feelings for Noé during the chapters she’s in. The color scheme of this inside cover is particularly notable when compared with the vibrant yellow and magenta of Domi’s volume 8 cover— Domi isn’t exactly colorless here, but she’s definitely quite desaturated compared to her volume 8 appearance. The magenta color reflecting on her hair and bow actually seems quite close to.. that… faded………. purple….