#anyway this actually happened (bells aside) and it was so precious i had to draw it

[plaguethewaters]

rewatching lmanburg vods is something so dear to me

[elizabeatrice]

Episode 12 - The Little Mermaid

Let’s Talk About JSHK Anime #3

Warning: Manga spoilers for The Little Mermaid arc, The Clock Keeper arc, and chapter 64!!! (just a bit, skip point no. 5, 6, and 10 if you don’t want to get spoiled) Also … this ended up way longer than I intended.

Well that was one heck of a feels trip. It’s probably my new favorite episode, just because everyone is here being wholesome lmao.

This is mostly hananene meta I ain’t even gonna lie.

Before we begin, shout out to Black Canyon, our newest anime cutie pie. Just look at him, folks. Just chilling with his sunflower seed.

He has no idea the kind of life his owner leads.

I said before that the best part of episode 12 is how it made Daydream worse, so now I’m gonna ramble about it.

“Maybe different species can’t understand each other after all.”

“Maybe it would be better if I were an apparition too.”

This is my favorite part of the episode. And no, not in the sense that I want Nene to die just so that she and Hanako can be together. But because of how Lerche actually explored deeper what was said only once in the manga.

Well, both in the manga and anime Nene ended up accepting the mermaid’s blood because of her desire to be popular, but the anime decided to revisit what she said earlier in the episode.

Not only did that make her decision kinda less selfish, it’s also just … sad. Thinking that your friend, someone you really cared about, doesn’t trust you enough to tell you things about themselves, to the point where you’re willing to go to such lengths as turning into an apparition just to understand them.

And if you think about it, isn’t this part of her true wish? To have her feelings be reciprocated? Man I just realized that as I wrote this and I am mindblown.

She thought she finally got her wish with Hanako. I mean, he said it himself in the first ep (”You wanted someone, anyone, to return your feelings, right? And as far as you’re concerned, sharing a bond with someone is the same thing, right?”). So it must’ve hit her really hard when she thought he didn’t trust her. Especially with all the wrong ideas the fishes were feeding her mind.

Then we got this little flashback. At first I was like, “Girl, you really be thinking that he doesn’t care about you while recalling the moment he apologized to you and hugged you? Are you insane?”

But after some thinking of my own, it occurred to me. Maybe she was too used to having her feelings not reciprocated, she couldn’t believe it when someone finally did. Not to mention Hanako did kinda trick her with his fake confession a while back (heh, he’s not the only one with trust issues, eh?). And that just made the entire thing even sadder.

So when Nene said, “But I thought, if I were an apparition like you, I could get closer to you. Then, maybe I’d be able to understand you, Hanako-kun. Although I know I probably don’t mean anything to you.”

That was a harsh wake up call for Hanako.

(Btw even more full circle, Hanako brought up Nene’s wish to become human again in the first episode. Nice.)

So. We got one daikon girl who’s afraid of not having her feelings reciprocated, and one ghost boy who’s afraid that daikon girl wouldn’t be his friend anymore if she knew about his past.

While in actuality, said daikon girl already decided she wanted to and would be his friend no matter what, and ghost boy had grown to care about her more than he thought he would.

He heard what she said to Tsuchigomori. He knew all about regret, too.  I mean, honestly, I think if she had said no, he’d let her walk away right then and there, no questions asked. But she didn’t.

Nene’s wish finally came true here. And the best part? It wasn’t the work of magic or curses. Just Hanako finally shoving his fear aside, offering himself as he was, and letting her decide.

And she still chose to be with him.

Heh. Lemme just. Sob for a bit.

Is my hananene trash brain reading too much into this? Idk. Maybe.

So props to the production team for managing to add even more weight to this arc. Which, they had to, since it’s the season finale and all. But I love what they did!

Onto my commentaries!

1. The KouNene

Good shit. She was worried about him but he didn’t want her to worry so he just smiled it off? These two are precious. Thought they were gonna interact. Sadly not. Buuuut! (see point 12)

2. Hanako’s classroom visit

He. Is. So. Adorable. Someone please take his babey license away he’s too dangerous.

Hanako’s classroom visit is like my absolute favorite clingy Hanako moment, so I’m really happy I get to see it this season. Ugh. My kokoro. Hugging her from behind, that semi confession vibe … Smooth mf.

The Mokke brushing Nene’s hair!!! The radish hairdo tho lmao.

On a sidenote, as a history nerd I appreciate that they’re actually putting lessons in the background. And the teacher talked about Apollo 11 again??? While my boy was in the room? That ish both hurt and pleased me.

3. The Clock Keeper rumor drop

Heeeeeehhhhh? What’s thiiiiiissss?

4. This freaking thing

*flips table* Darn production team been knew I’m hananene trash how dare they do this to me.

And lookie here there’s Kodama chilling.

5. Fishies! (!!!manga spoiler for The Little Mermaid arc!!!)

Pufferfish didn’t die. Well, good for him. Also I can’t believe they just call the other fish ‘yeah yeah’ lmao what the freak. Has it always been like that in the manga?

6. AOI AND AKANE (!!!spoilers for chapter 64!!!)

I swear I did not intend this numbering coincidence.

*claps* Boi. Nene asking Aoi about cutting ties with someone she’s interested in? And then Akane just swooped in and say he’d rather cut his head off than cut ties with Aoi? What about getting impaled, huh, boy? Would that do?

The not-so-subtle call out to these two pairs’ parallel? BOI.

7. Nene and Yako

These two just chilling together having girl talk, and Yako let Nene pet her? That’s some adorable shit right there. Admit it Yako you like her.

Yako also be really hitting home with what she said. It was extra heavy coming from her, considering what happened to her and Misaki. Boiiiiii.

8. Tsuchigomori

Oh my God, his laughter. Just … oh my God.

Tsuchigomori in dad mode is always one of the highlights of the episode/chapter.

By the way, in this scene according to the sub, Nene asked Tsuchigomori who Tsukasa is. But she knew who he is already. Is it possible that the sub misinterpreted it? ‘Cause I think what she actually meant was, “What happened to him and Tsukasa-kun in the past?”

If someone who speaks Japanese could share their wisdom, please do!

9. The 5 pm bell and twilight

Look how pretty they are!!!

Lo and behold, another important hananene interaction while the 5 pm bell plays in the background. Also, twilight? Y’all giving me Kimi no Na wa flashbacks.

“Twilight, when it’s neither day or night. When the world blurs and one might encounter something not human.”

Huh … kinda fits the ‘boundary’ concept but it still hurt.

Anyway they still had Hanako tell her what she already knew. And I did say in my ‘Walking Blind’ post that it’d be redundant. But since the episode kinda emphasized Nene’s desire to understand Hanako, having him actually tell her himself, even though she already knew it, was a big deal. It’s not about what she knows, it’s about him opening up to her. So I’m super cool with it.

10. The Broadcasting Club (!!!spoilers for The Clock Keeper arc!!!)

I love how Natsuhiko and Sakura are actually decent people. When he told Mitsuba that he was free to choose to stay with them or not? That’s solid, man. Though, of course, Tsukasa might not be as kind.

Speaking of, I know it couldn’t be anything else, but I’m still not sure if Tsukasa’s drawing was confirmation for season 2. Don’t wanna get my hopes up. Imma just enjoy what I currently have.

Kinda curious, though. Because Clock Keeper wasn’t Tsukasa’s doing. Maybe he was the one who released Mirai? But tbh I’d prefer if it wasn’t so. Because having more cases of supernaturals going loco without it being one of Tsukasa’s games is interesting, and kinda underlines the need of The Seven Wonders to keep supernaturals in check.

11. Kodama just chilling

12. The Adventures of Minamoto and the Summer Vegetables

You go, Kou! I’m rooting for you oh my God you’re so precious.

And look at that ikemen smile! Him supporting Kou is just top notch sweet y’all I can’t-

Ngl this was the biggest surprise of the episode. Teru finding out that summer vegetables = Nene? Broooooo. Interesting. I don’t think this little addition warrants any changes to their future interaction, so it should be safe. Clever replacement, too, those veggies.

It’s so sweet that Nene delivered those veggies to Kou! Just imagine the Minamoto family having veggies for dinner. Awww.

(Also, Nene wrote her name in hiragana instead of kanji. Is that a reference to how bad Kou is with kanji? Lol, so sweet)

13. The Coda!!!

Look at him. Just look at him. Look how lovesick he is y’all I can’t-

THEY’RE SO ADORABLE.

All in all, I love this episode. Sorry for how long this post is. I’m just dealing with so many feels right now. Gaaahhhhh.

[xomarauders]

hello everyone,

it has been far too long since i have posted anything on here and for that i apologize, but i have been working on some of my own writing as well as just dealing with personal stuff so please forgive me. 

i also might be changing this blog up a bit and start posting more than just marauders fanfiction (such as some of my own writing perhaps). i’m still not sure about this idea because i don’t really want to change my user name or anything and i do want to contiue writing fics so we’ll see! 

anyway, without further ado, here is my latest fic for yall :) hope you enjoy! (p.s. there is a second part coming!!!)

tw: internalized homophobia, implied child abuse, depictions of a panic attack

--

The cold December air was harsh against Marlene’s skin as she stood outside the small record shop she had been frequenting since she was fourteen. It was tucked away in the side of a building in London, offering solace to those who did not seem to fit in with the more fast-paced, business-like folk you so often saw among the sidewalks. The cigarette in her hand was offering little warmth but seemed to be calming her nerves, so she stayed outside to finish smoking it. It was winter break from Hogwarts and Marlene was relieved to be away from school for the time being as well as away from her friends. She couldn’t face them at the moment. Not after what she did.

Marlene rolled her eyes at herself for thinking of things she’d rather forget and tossed the butt of her cigarette to the ground before crushing it with the toe of her combat boot. With one last glance toward the busy street, she retreated into the record shop which greeted her immediately with the chime of a bell and rock music playing throughout the speakers of the store.

A man at the register with short, dirty blonde hair and rings through his eyebrows glanced up at her entrance, a smile appearing on his face.

“Marlene! Haven’t seen you in a while.” He commented, swinging his legs over the counter and making his way toward her. Marlene gave a non-committal shrug but returned the high-five he offered her with semi frozen fingers.

“How has business been, Curtis?” She asked, glancing around the nearly empty shop. There was no one else in there aside from the two of them and Marlene felt her heart break just a little bit. This was one of her favorite places to be, a place she and her friends would escape to during the summer to be with one another. She wondered if their absence was the reason for her melancholic mood.

“It hasn’t been bad. Just caught me on a slow day.” Curtis replied, seeming to notice Marlene’s shift in behavior. “Lily was in here the other day, actually. Got herself a few new albums.”

Marlene looked up at the mention of Lily and felt her cheeks burn slightly. She wondered if Lily had mentioned anything about the incident to Curtis. Judging by the passive look on his face, she assumed not and tried to school her own expression into a neutral one.

“Yeah? What albums?”

After Curtis introduced her to the new music Lily had gotten, Marlene picked up a few albums of her own to purchase before leaving the shop to get back home. She would have stayed to visit with Curtis longer, but she didn’t want to linger in a space that reminded her so much of her friends at the moment and she especially didn’t want to run into them anytime soon.

It was a bit of a walk to the closest floo station and the London streets were bustling with people walking home from work or coming out for the night. Marlene kept her head down, staring at the pavement in front of her and wrapping her jacket tightly around herself, blocking out the bitter cold as best she could. Suddenly, a body collided against her and she fell backwards, dropping her records in the process.

“What the fu—?” Marlene was cut off by the commotion of being pulled off the sidewalk and dragged into a nearby alley way.

She looked up, ready to scream insults at her attacker, but stopped at the sight of Sirius Black’s face. His hair was tied up in a bun, though most of it seemed to have fallen out, and there was a wide look of panic in his eyes that matched the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He was trembling finely and looked ready to pass out as he glanced behind him in a paranoid manner. It seemed as though he was running from something. Or someone.

“Sirius?” Marlene asked, keeping her voice low. She turned to look in the direction where Sirius was peering and spotted two men seemingly searching the crowd. Her eyebrows raised. There was something off about the two men…they did not fit in with the rest of the crowd, the clothes they wore were different, not really matching and the confused, disgusted looks on their faces made them stick out like sore thumbs. Realization hit her like a ton of bricks—they were wizards trying to blend in with a muggle crowd. Purebloods, to be exact.

She whirled around to look at Sirius once more. “Sirius, who are those men?” She hissed, desperate to know what kind of danger they could possibly be in. Rumors about dark wizards had begun circulating around Hogwarts for months now. Followers of Voldemort that had begun to call themselves “Death Eaters” were threatening the lives of muggleborns, though Marlene had never actually seen any such wizard. Until now, she supposed.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” Sirius said, completely ignoring her question. He looked down towards the other end of the alley to see a chain link fence and cursed. They were trapped it seemed and Marlene felt herself begin to panic.

“Sirius,” She said, her voice urgent, though she wasn’t sure what she was pleading for.

He turned to her once more, gripping her shoulders tightly and staring at her intently. “I have an idea, but you have to promise me that you won’t breathe a word of this to anybody, do you understand?”

Marlene nodded and then watched with complete shock and awe as Sirius disappeared, a large, black dog appearing in his place. Animagus, she realized with a jolt. The dog turned away, walking back down the alley before turning and barking at Marlene, as if motioning for her to follow. She blinked a few times, still shocked at the sudden change of events, before following him back into the streets. He stopped where she had dropped her records and Marlene bent down to pick them up, a slight frown playing on her lips at the sight of the bent corners of the packaging. She was just about to scold Sirius when a rough voice behind her cleared their throat. She looked up, just as Sirius growled, to see the two men from earlier standing there.

The men did not seem to pay attention to the dog, focusing their gaze solely on Marlene instead. She tried to keep her face neutral, raising a single eyebrow in their direction. “Can I help you?”

“Have you seen a boy run through here?” The shorter of the two men asked, his lip curling in disgust. The other man eyed Marlene warily, taking in her muggle attire and turning his nose up at the mere sight. Marlene tried not to roll her eyes.

“No.” She replied, sounding calmer than she felt.

The two men shared a look, as if trying to decide whether or not she was telling the truth, before nodding their understanding and moving past her without another word. Marlene felt as Sirius curled around her legs, watching as they disappeared around the corner before letting out a victorious bark. She looked down at him, shaking her head.

“I suppose you need somewhere to hide for a while?”

Another yelp and wag of his tale gave Marlene all the answers she needed.

****

“Well, this is home.” Marlene said with a sigh, dropping her records onto her bed with a soft thud. Sirius—still in his canine form—sniffed around before cocking his head in her direction and allowing his tongue to roll out of his mouth. Marlene wrinkled her nose at the slobber. “I think you are safe to go back to your usual…form. Unless you’re stuck that is.”

Again, Marlene watched in amazement as Sirius came back to himself, a shiver running through his body as he grinned at her. “Nice room you’ve got, McKinnon. Am I the first boy you’ve brought home?”

“Care to explain what just happened?” She asked, not caring for the way he seemed to avoid explaining himself.

Sirius shrugged, moving toward the desk in the corner of the room and running his fingers down the various artwork Marlene had spread out there. A look of wonder shined in his eyes as he delicately examined the paintings and drawings as if they were some sort of precious treasure. He stopped at a particular piece of a woman’s face done with charcoal pencil and Marlene felt herself blush at the way he traced the strokes that molded her lips.

“These are wonderful. Who did them?”

“I did.”

Sirius turned, his eyebrows raised with surprise and admiration. “Really? I didn’t know you were an artist.”

She stood up, marching over to where he stood, and removed the drawing from his grasp, shoving it beneath the rest of the art, effectively obscuring it from his wandering eyes, before turning to face him once more.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Black.”

She did not miss the way he seemed to flinch away from her before shaking it off and plastering another smirk across his face. “Touché.” He spoke quietly.  

Marlene felt a jolt of guilt in her gut, feeling bad for snapping at him. He was merely admiring her work. He did not understand the context of her drawing and likely wouldn’t make the connection. Afterall, he did not live in her mind where all the confusing thoughts and doubts resided. He could not possibly know her dirty little secret.

“Just…tell me what happened back there. Do I need to be afraid that someone might follow you here?” She asked, changing the topic.

“Those were the Lestrange brothers. Rabastan and Rodolphus. Purebloods. Family friends.”

“Why were they looking for you?”

“Because I may have said something rather…deplorable at my dear cousin’s engagement party.” Sirius said it with a grin, but Marlene noticed the flicker of fear in his eyes.

Marlene vaguely knew about the Black family and the way they presented themselves. Most of her ideas about them came from the mere reactions Sirius had whenever someone brought the prestigious bloodline. He was always loud about it, shouting about how stuck up they were in the Gryffindor common room and how grateful he was that he had not followed in their footsteps and ended up in Slytherin. She also knew that they were blood purists, believing that muggles were beneath them.

From what she had gathered, she was not a fan of them.

“Is there any way they can find you here?” Marlene asked, unwilling to allow her family to become endangered for hiding a self-proclaimed fugitive. Sirius just laughed, shaking his head so that his hair flung about. Marlene would have found it amusing how much it reminded her of a dog if it were under difference circumstances.

“I doubt they would. Going into muggle London was bad enough for them, they’re not going to continue their search in a muggle neighborhood.”

Marlene did not get the chance to ask what Sirius planned to do next due to the sound of the front door opening and her family announcing their presence.

“Marls!” Her father shouted up the steps. “We’re home!”

“Come down and tell us how your trip to London was. Your brother has been pestering me all afternoon about not letting him go with you.” Her mother spoke with a laugh and Marlene heard her brother scoff indignantly.

Marlene turned to Sirius, pointing a finger at him and giving him the best glare that she could. “Be on your best behavior. Go along with everything I say, are we clear?” Sirius just nodded, unwilling to cross her and with a final nod Marlene turned to exit the room with Sirius following closely behind. As they entered the living area, Marlene watched as her brother’s eyes went wide at the sight of Sirius.  

“Mum! Marlene’s brought a friend home!” He announced. The McKinnon’s turned, a look of surprise on each of their faces at the sight of the young man standing in their home. Marlene’s mother turned to her and offered a hesitant smile.

“Marlene, who’s your friend?”

“Mum, dad, this is Sirius. He goes to school with me.”

Her father instantly lit up, clasping her hands together as he plopped down on the sofa. “Another wizard! How nice to meet you, young man. I’m Grant McKinnon, but you can just call me Grant.” He offered Sirius a hand and Marlene tried her best not to smirk as Sirius suddenly stood up a bit straighter and shook her fathers’ hand as if he were meeting the Queen.

“A pleasure to meet you, sir. Lovely home you have here.”

“What a gentleman.” Her mother laughed lightly. “I’m Lottie.”

This time, Marlene had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing as she watched Sirius gently kiss her mother’s hand. Merlin, he really was a posh bastard.

“I’m Freddie.” Her brother greeted, not wanting to be left out, and Sirius’s eyes lit up.

“Like Freddie Mercury?”

“Exactly!” Freddie exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

Just as Marlene was about to interrupt to give an explanation as to why Sirius was there in the first place, her family initiated a game of twenty questions directed toward the poor boy.

“So, you go to Hogwarts then?” Lottie asked, an easy smile playing on her lips. She moved to sit by her husband, smoothing out her yellow sun dress as she did so. Sirius nodded, a proud smile appearing on his face.

“Yes. Sorted into Gryffindor, just like Marlene.”

Grant leaned forward; an eyebrow raised. “That’s the one with the lion, right?”

Marlene rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Dad, you know it is.”

Her father merely laughed, raising his hands in defense as he leaned back once more. “I just want to make sure! I never went to Hogwarts now did I?”

“Oh, did you go to Beaubaxtons?” Sirius asked and Marlene cringed.

“Oxford, actually.” Her father answered easily, and Sirius glanced at Marlene with clear confusion on his face. Grant didn’t seem to mind though, catching on to what Sirius wasn’t fully understanding. “I don’t have magic, son.”

Sirius’s eyes went wide for the hundredth time that day it seemed, and he grinned wickedly. “You’re a muggle.” He stated as if he had just made a new discovery. Marlene got the impression that Sirius had never really spoken to a muggle before now.

“You’re pureblood then, Sirius?” Marlene’s mother asked, quickly connecting the dots of Sirius’s curiosity.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah I am.” Sirius shifted a bit uncomfortably and Lottie frowned at the sudden change in behavior.

“I was the only witch in my family.” Lottie continued, changing the subject. “Was sorted into Ravenclaw at Hogwarts.”

“That’s what I’m going to be.” Freddie piped up, puffing his chest out in perfect eight-year old fashion. Marlene rolled her eyes.

“You still have three more years and there’s no guarantee you’ll follow in mum’s footsteps.”

Freddie narrowed his eyebrows and glared at Marlene. “But I want to be a Ravenclaw.”

“You can be whatever you want to be, mate.” Sirius said solemnly and Marlene found herself surprised at the sincerity in Sirius’s voice. She had never known Sirius to behave in such ways at school, often getting into trouble and shouting about loudly and animatedly. What he said had seemed to be an acceptable answer for Freddie, though, who beamed right back at Sirius.

“Sirius needs a place to stay.” Marlene blurted suddenly, and everyone’s attention turned toward her once more. Her mother gave her a dubious look, waiting patiently for an explanation while her father seemed to not even question the notion.

“For how long?” Grant asked.

“Oh. Uh, you don’t have to do that, sir. I’ll be okay on my own.”

Lottie leaned forward, reaching out for Sirius who instantly flinched in return, causing her to draw her hands back quickly, a stunned look on her face at his reaction. She cleared her throat and fixed him with a serious look. “It’s not problem if you need somewhere to sleep, Sirius. I would just like a reason and an idea of how long you would be staying.”

Sirius glanced at Marlene hesitantly. Clearly, he had not planned on staying here but he also had not planned on going home. Had he assumed that she would kick him to the streets? Perhaps that was what he had intended to do all along. Marlene frowned at the idea of Sirius wandering aimlessly about London, probably in his Animagus form, just to hide away from his family. She wondered how terrible they must be for him to resort to such a thing.

Marlene turned back to her parents, a resolute look on her face. “However long he needs.”

****

Grant quickly set up a cot for Sirius in Freddie’s bedroom—who was far too excited to have a roommate for the time being—and Sirius offered his thanks every five minutes with Grant dismissing it with a wave of his hand stating “it’s just what we do, son.”

Marlene was preparing for bed in her own room when a tentative knock came from the door. “Come in.”

Her mother walked in, shutting the door behind her with a soft click before making herself comfortable on Marlene’s bed. She looked at Marlene with a curious but open expression and Marlene found herself wondering if her mother could see right through her.  

“Is Sirius…someone you fancy?” She asked, and Marlene realized that perhaps her mother couldn’t see her at all.

“No.” She answered honestly, and her mother nodded, accepting the answer without question. Lottie still sat there though, mulling something around in her brain it seemed before letting it out.

“Is he in trouble?”

Marlene considered her mother’s question. The truth was that Marlene really wasn’t sure if Sirius was in trouble or not. It could just be him being his usual dramatic self and getting a kick out of ruining some extravagant family function, but somehow it felt different. The look of pure fear in his eyes when they were in that alley way was burned into her mind.

“I don’t know.” She said finally, her voice sounding more childish than she cared for. Her mother sighed, standing up and opening her arms which Marlene gratefully fell into. She closed her eyes, grateful that her parents were who they were. That they were so accepting and helpful towards everyone. It made her proud to be their daughter. She wondered idly if they would be accepting of everything or if there was some unforeseen limit to which their compassion reached.

Marlene thought about the events that occurred just a few days ago. The firewhiskey her and her friends had indulged in, intent on having one last night of fun before leaving each other for the winter holiday. She thought about the tingly feeling in her stomach as she leaned forward, placing her lips against Lily’s. She thought about the shocked look on Lily’s face and the small sound of surprise that came from Alice’s mouth. She thought about how she ran away before she could even give her friends a chance to ridicule her for her actions.  

It had been eating at her ever since, and now, as her mother held her in her arms, she wondered how she would react to the idea of her daughter liking girls.

“Mum?” Marlene asked, her heart rate picking up speed and hands starting to shake.

“Yes, dear?” Lottie pulled back, a look of concern on her face.

Marlene felt her throat close up, blocking off the words she wanted to confess. I can’t do this. Not now.

“Never mind.” She breathed, looking down at her feet instead of meeting her mother’s gaze. Lottie lingered there a moment, debating whether or not to push the subject. In the end, she just hugged Marlene tighter and smoothed out her hair.

“Okay. But you can always come talk to me whenever you need, okay?” Lottie kissed her daughter’s forehead and went to leave the room, turning in the doorway just before exiting. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, mum.”

As her mother left, Marlene crawled into bed, huddling deeply beneath the blankets and turning to face the wall, finally allowing her tears to fall.

****

Marlene awoke to a frantic knocking on her door. She shot up in bed, immediately reaching for her wand and pointing it towards the doorway. What if it was the Lestranges? What if they had followed Marlene and Sirius straight to her home? What if it were the Blacks themselves, here to take their runaway heir home and punish those who gave him sanctuary?

“Marls! Open the door, it’s Freddie!”

A feeling of relief as well as slight irritation flooded through her. Freddie was tolerable most of the time, but waking her up in the middle of the night was definitely not a way to get on Marlene’s good side.

“What do you want, Mercury?” She asked as she swung the door open. Freddie was standing there, his hands twisted together and his face painted with worry and fear that immediately caused Marlene’s sour attitude toward her brother to vanish. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s Sirius. He won’t stop shaking and, and I thought he was having a nightmare and so I went over to shake him awake and he…he freaked out! He screamed and pushed me away and now he’s huddled in the corner and he won’t stop crying and—”

Marlene pushed past her brother and moved down the hallway towards his bedroom. When she got there, the cot was flipped over and the blankets were in a tangled mess on the floor. Sirius was pressed against the wall, his knees tucked up against his chest and his hands pulling anxiously at his hair. He was muttering something Marlene couldn’t quite make out but whatever it was, he sounded utterly terrified. Marlene turned to Freddie who had followed closely behind her.

“Go get mom.”

Freddie nodded and raced away, seemingly grateful about being given a task. Marlene turned her attention back to Sirius. He hadn’t even noticed the two of them had come into the room, too lost in whatever memory he was reliving. Marlene had heard about this sort of behavior before, when her dad spoke of her grandfather and the effects the war had on him. The panicked breathing and dissociation that blinded a person to their realities were sure signs of post-traumatic stress, she was sure. She was also sure she that she was way out of her depth to properly break Sirius out of it, but she’d be dammed if she didn’t try.

“Sirius,” She spoke slowly, inching towards him before kneeling in front of him. He shook harder, his breath coming out in pants. Merlin, he was going to make himself pass out.

“Hey,” She grabbed his hand and he recoiled with a scream.

“No! No, please! Please don’t, it hurts.” He whimpered. Marlene felt sick and uncomfortable. This was not the Sirius Black she knew. This was a scared and hurt little boy that Marlene could not help.

“What is it?” Marlene turned. Her mother was standing in the doorway, her father and brother right behind her. She watched as Lottie’s eyes found Sirius and she motioned for Marlene to move away. Marlene obliged, standing, and watching her mother crouch down in her place.

“Sirius, sweetie? It’s Lottie. Marlene’s mom, remember?” He didn’t respond but Lottie didn’t seem deterred.

“Breathe with me, Sirius. I’m going to count and we are going to breathe.”

Marlene watched in awe as her mother calmly coaxed Sirius out of the horrific state he was trapped in. They breathed together, with Sirius attempting to match Lottie the more lucid he became. Eventually, Lottie took his hands in hers, rubbing small circles in his palms with the pads of her thumbs. She spoke softly to him, asking him questions about his surroundings and Sirius muttered back short responses. Slowly, he came back to himself. Marlene stood in the doorway, Freddie beside her still looking quite distressed and her father with an unreadable expression playing on his features.

“Marlene could you come sit here beside Sirius? I’m going to go whip up a potion for him to take. Freddie, Grant, why don’t you come help me? Give Sirius some space.”

Freddie nodded wordlessly and turned to head down the stairs followed by his father. As Marlene passed her mother, Lottie put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t make him talk about it,” She whispered, “just listen if he does.”

Marlene nodded and Lottie gave her a sad smile before leaving the two teens alone. Sirius stared down at his lap, his eyes puffy with tears and his hair a tangly mess. He seemed embarrassed and shifted slightly when Marlene took a seat next to him. She didn’t blame him. She’d be pretty embarrassed too if her whole bravado façade fell apart in front of an audience. It was quiet between them, and Marlene struggled as she thought of something to say. She wanted to ask Sirius what had happened, what kind of nightmare he’d had to cause such a reaction, but she refrained. Still, she thought she could gather a well enough idea.

“I’m thinking of cutting some fringe.” She says instead, reaching up to toy with a strand of her hair. Sirius blinks, glancing toward her and then back at his toes. “I think it’d be a nice change, you know. Eleanor Tippets has fringe and it’s quite nice looking, don’t you think?”

“I’ve never thought about Eleanor Tippets.” Sirius responds. Progress, she thinks.

“Me neither. Not really. Just noticed her hair is all.” Marlene purses her lips. “James has some wild hair, doesn’t he? Does it naturally look like that or does he do it on purpose?”

A ghost of a smile traces Sirius’ lips and Marlene feels her muscles lose a bit of the tension she was unaware she had been holding.

“It’s naturally messy, though he does run his fingers through it often.”

“When he flirts with all the girls?”

“Well, just one girl, really. He still can’t get over Evans.”

Marlene tenses a bit but forces the conversation to continue. “Lily is nice.”

“So is James. She still hasn’t given him a chance.”

Sirius was right, Marlene supposed. James Potter wasn’t exactly the poster boy for good behavior, but he was nice enough. He always helped first years with their homework and encouraged the Gryffindor Quidditch team to win the games and have fun doing it. Lily had talked about James before, to Marlene and Alice, usually to complain about how annoying he was or about what elaborate date he asked her on that week. At the time, Marlene thrilled over the fact that Lily was not into James and perhaps she imagined it was for the same reasons Marlene wasn’t into boys. Now, though, as she looked back on it, she could remember the faint blush gracing her friend’s cheeks each time James smiled at her and the way her lips would twitch upwards just before she told him to get lost.

“My parents hate me.” Sirius said suddenly. Marlene felt her heart stop. Even if she expected it, it was different to hear the words falling so painfully out of Sirius’ mouth. She looked towards him, at the hunch of his shoulders and the pain in his eyes. It was painful to see Sirius this way. He should be jumping on the bed or ranting to Marlene about David Bowie. He shouldn’t be sitting in the corner with trembling hands and a fear of his family. It wasn’t right.

“They shouldn’t hate you.” Marlene knew it was a lame response, but she didn’t know what to say. She had never prepared for a conversation like this, let alone with Sirius Black.

Sirius scoffed. “Oh, I don’t know. I sometimes hate me.”

“Why?”

“We’re not close enough for this conversation, McKinnon.”

“Well, you’re the one who started it.”

Before Sirius could reply, Lottie had stepped back into the room, a cup held in her hand that presumably held the potion she had concocted. Sirius accepted it gratefully, attempting to put his mask of perfect manners back on, though his hands still shook as he drank. Lottie exchanged a look with Marlene, a frown on her face and pity in her eyes. Marlene looked away. She knew Sirius would hate to have any pity directed towards him so it felt wrong to accept such a look.

“You can stay in my room for the rest the night,” Marlene said, “I don’t want you to scare my brother awake with your screams again. He might just wet the bed.”

Lottie opened her mouth to scold Marlene, but Sirius just let out that barking laugh that Marlene had come to enjoy now that she had learned about Sirius’ animagus form. Her parents set the cot up in Marlene’s room quickly and said goodnight once more before shutting the bedroom door. Sirius stood awkwardly next to the cot, his hands clasped together in front of him. Marlene crawled underneath her own blankets, scooting as close to the wall as she could before patting the space next to her. Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Are you inviting me into your bed, McKinnon?”

Marlene rolled her eyes. “Just for sleep, you dog.”

Sirius hesitated, but slid in beside her after a moment of consideration. He was careful not to touch her, whether that was to make her more comfortable or him, Marlene wasn’t sure. She turned on her side so that she was facing him. He stared resolutely at the ceiling, his hands on his chest and eyes wide open.

“You can relax you know. I don’t bite.”

“Biting might be fun.”  

“Sirius—”

“I’m kidding!”

Marlene just shook her head. What a weird day, she thought as she closed her eyes and let her thoughts wander. Spending Christmas break with Sirius Black wasn’t something she had ever planned to do and now here he was, lying in her bed. Marlene wondered what Lily and Alice would say if she told them. She frowned as she thought of her friends. Would they still be her friends when she got back to Hogwarts? Or would they shy away from her, possibly even hate her. She couldn’t bear the sick feeling that washed over her at the idea of that.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Sirius asked. Marlene opened her eyes to see him gazing at her with an uncharacteristic look of empathy on his face. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m thinking about how much sleep you’re costing me.”

Sirius flushed slightly, but persisted, nonetheless. “Oh, come on. Your face was all scrunched up, there’s no way you were thinking of sleep. Enlighten me, McKinnon.”

“No.”

“Is it a boy?”

“No.”

“Good. Then I have no competition.”

“Trust me when I say this, Sirius. You are not my type.”

Sirius hesitated and then, “I’m sorry for messing up your holiday. I can leave tomorrow. Find my way to James’ house. He’s more equipped to deal with this mess.”

Marlene wanted to reassure Sirius that he was no bother, that she was happy to help, but she couldn’t. Because she probably wasn’t as equipped to deal with all of Sirius’ stuff, not compared to James who knew Sirius better than anyone. Marlene suddenly felt a sense of guilt overcome her. She and Sirius had always been friends at school, chatting in the common room on occasion and sitting next to each other in history of magic, but they were never close. She supposed it was because Sirius didn’t let people get too close, no one except for James, Remus, and Peter. Not that she was any better.

“We can write him in the morning if that would make you more comfortable.” She mumbled. Sirius nodded.

“That would probably be best.”

“Sirius,” Marlene hesitated. “Sirius, I don’t want to pry or anything but…what happened? Why did you run away?”

A dark look settled over Sirius’ face and Marlene almost recoiled. Whatever happened had been bad, probably worse than Marlene could imagine. She almost regretted asking the question and was about to tell him he didn’t have to answer when he spoke in a breath.

“They tried to kill me.”

Marlene’s blood ran cold. She didn’t want to believe it. She wanted Sirius to crack a teasing smile and claim that he was just being his usual dramatic self and that he was exaggerating the story and that his parents just had some old-fashioned ideas that got him in trouble when he didn’t agree with them. That she could handle. But this…god, she was going to be sick.

“Why?” Her voice sounded childish, laced with curiosity, and horrified awe.

“I…disagreed with them, as usual. But this time it was because of more personal beliefs.”

“Personal beliefs?”

“I told them I was gay.”

There was a stutter in Marlene’s heart, a sudden thrill that she wasn’t alone, such an excitement that she almost screamed “me too!” back at him. But she didn’t. Because right now was about Sirius, not her.  Instead, she reached out and took Sirius’ hand. He flinched at the motion but Marlene did not let go. She could not let go, not now, not when she might be the only person who Sirius might be able to relate to, that he might be the only person who could understand her. She felt the need to cling to this, to remember this moment as Sirius told her this secret with raw vulnerability and tears in his eyes because not only was the world cruel to people like them but his own parents couldn’t see past their own prejudices to just love their son. Instead, they set out to hurt and even kill. Marlene could make this moment matter. She could make this moment a happy moment for him.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Sirius finally met her gaze, surprise evident on his face. She grinned back at him, her own eyes watering.

“I am so fucking proud of you, Sirius. For being strong enough and brave enough to stand up to your parents and be who you are. I really admire that and I am so happy that you shared it with me. Thank you.”

Sirius’ body seemed to lose all the tension he had been holding since bumping into Marlene earlier that day. God, had it only been a day? Marlene felt as though Sirius had been there for weeks, ready to burst at the seams at any moment. And this was that moment. He started crying in earnest, his body shaking and eyes becoming blinded with tears. Marlene inched forward, wrapping her arms around him, and holding him close. Her own face was wet with tears of joy and pain for her friend.

Eventually they fell asleep, wrapped tightly around each other. It was how Lottie found them in the morning.

[imaginaryelle]

Prompt: a day in new sect leader jiang trying to raise jin ling

Thanks for the prompt! This one came in at around 1.5k and can also be read on AO3.

Jin Ling is four the first time he stays overnight at Lotus Pier without a revenue of Jin nurses and servants waiting on his every need. Those people are busy, Jiang Cheng understands, preparing for the new Jin heir, who should be gracing the world with his presence any day now. Jin Guangshan is very proud, he’s sure. Given the stories he’s been hearing lately and the relieved expression on the face of the Jin cultivator who handed the boy off, Jiang Cheng can foresee many, many extended visits to Lotus Pier in Jin Ling’s future.

It shouldn’t make him angry. Hasn’t he spent years visiting Jinlingtai and glaring at their tiny excuse for a lotus pond, itching to show his nephew what his mother’s home really looked like? Hadn’t he hated requesting permission of Jin Guangshan just to hold the child in the first year of his life? But it rankles, that they don’t want him. That the Jin clan hasn’t closed ranks around him in the wake of his parents’ deaths, and that this precious boy of Jiang Cheng’s blood can be so easily replaced by an infant who has yet to take its first breath.

The Jiang Sect is not the Jin Sect. Jiang Cheng doesn’t have enough people to assign Jin Ling a nurse or a servant even if he wanted to, which he doesn’t because Jin Ling is his nephew and the Jiang Clan has never done such things with their own flesh and blood. And it’s not as if the boy is utterly helpless. He can feed himself without spills and dress himself without trouble, and he wears shoes more readily than Wei Wuxian ever—Jiang Cheng pushes the thought aside.

The only thing Jin Ling can’t quite manage for himself in the morning is putting up his hair, but he sits without much fidgeting as Jiang Cheng combs through the tangles and draws up a small topknot; just enough to keep it out of Jin Ling’s face. He is so still, in fact, and so diligent and quiet while working through his morning training alongside the Jiang’s Sect’s older children that Jiang Cheng starts to worry. It’s been a long time since he spent so much time with a child so young, but he doesn’t remember being quite so biddable himself at that age. He’d been expecting tantrums. He’s seen Jin Ling’s tantrums, usually an explosion of tears and wailing shortly before the boy was whisked out of view by someone in a yellow Jin hanfu.

Instead, Jin Ling is clingy—he clings to Jiang Cheng’s clothes and watches him with wide, dark eyes. He follows Jiang Cheng around the grounds, sometimes jogging in his wake with his hanfu clenched in tiny fists. He doesn’t talk, and he doesn’t smile, and he shakes his head and hides behind Jiang Cheng’s leg when one of young disciples asks if he wants to play a game. His face below that bright red dot is a study in careful determination even when he’s drawing on scrap paper while Jiang Cheng answers his correspondence out on the pier. Even as the sun bears down on them in the late afternoon until Jiang Cheng himself is looking longingly at the water.

There’s nothing urgent happening until dinner. A few hours. Plenty of time to dry out. He stands. Jin Ling immediately puts down his brush.

“A-Ling,” Jiang Cheng says, “let’s go swimming.”

This is not met with nearly as much excitement as he hoped. Jin Ling looks around, as if he’s only just realizing they’re surrounded by water. Jiang Cheng starts taking off his own outer layers—no reason to get everything wet—and tries to look encouraging. He can see the sweat on Jin Ling’s face, it’s not as if the kid isn’t over-warm.

“Traditional Jiang Clan way to cool off in summer,” he says. “It’s easier with fewer layers.”

Jin Ling is just staring at the water with his hands clenched around his belt.

“Do you want me to throw you into the lake with all your clothes on?” Jiang Cheng asks, thinking of his father’s laughing threats on especially hot days. Instead of laughing, Jin Ling’s face immediately screws up into tears. He wails, high and miserable.

Jiang Cheng freezes, just for a moment, and then he kneels and tries to gather his sobbing nephew into his arms as if it can help. As if that’ll make the tears stop, instead of just meaning that Jin Ling buries his face in Jiang Cheng’s chest and rubs tears and snot right into the crossed collar of his innermost yi.

He pats his nephew’s shoulder. He’s not good at this. He knows he’s not good at it. This was his sister’s thing. Even—well, not his, anyway. Never his. But he can’t stand doing nothing while the kid cries, so here he is, feeling like a fish that’s flopped up onto the dock and flailing accordingly. Eventually he can just barely make out the words I can’t swim among all the other noise.

He frowns. “Of course you can swim. I taught you to swim on your first birthday.”

Jin Ling continues to cry, but quieter. He actually opens his eyes. He hiccups. “You did?”

“I had a fight with your grandfather about it. And Jin Guangyao.” The concept of a pond that is entirely decorative still rankles something deep in his soul.

“I don’t remember,” Jin Ling says, looking like he’s going to start sobbing again.

“You will,” Jiang Cheng assures him, wiping away his tears. “All Jiangs know how to swim.”

“But I’m not a Jiang.” Jin Ling’s lip trembles.

“You have a Jiang Clan spirit bell, don’t you?” Jiang Cheng tugs the bell and tassel loose from Jin Ling’s belt at holds it up for inspection. “That makes you a Jiang. And even if it didn’t, you’d be a Jiang because I say you are.” One of those statements seems to work. Or at least, Jin Ling no longer looks like he intends to continue crying. Instead, he runs his hands through the green silk threads of the tassel and looks out at the water.

“Jiujiu,” he says after a moment, “what if there are alligators?”

“They can’t get past the wards,” Jiang Cheng tells him. It’s a large part of the reason they have wards sunk into the waterways instead of only on docks and buildings.

“But what if they did?” Jin Ling asks, logic and cultivation apparently not enough to satisfy him.

“Then I’ll use Zidian on them.” Jiang Cheng raises his hand so Jin Ling can see the metal snake wrapped around his hand and wrist. “They won’t even get close.”

Jin Ling pokes a small finger at it and traces along the tiny etched scales. His lips press together into something might—just—be called a smile. He nods. “Okay,” he says.

“Okay?” Jiang Cheng confirms. “We can go swimming now?”

“Mn,” Jin Ling agrees with another eager nod.

“Good,” Jiang Cheng says. And then he throws Jin Ling into the water, fully clothed, and jumps in after him.

“Jiujiu!” Jin Ling comes up sputtering and yelling. He waves his arms and nearly kicks Jiang Cheng in the sternum. “Jiujiu! I don’t—”

“You’re fine.” Jiang Cheng slides his hands up under Jin Lings armpits, giving him just enough support that he’ll stop struggling. “You’re floating fine,” he says, which is only a little bit of a lie. It takes a touch of spiritual power to really float in water-soaked layers of silk and linen and cotton, but he can feel that little glow of intent moving under Jin Ling’s skin. His body remembers, even if his brain doesn’t. “See?” he says when Jin Ling has calmed. “What did I tell you?”

Jin Ling leans back in the water. He kicks his feet out and slaps his hands against the surface and watches the ripples fan out and he smiles, and he looks so much like his mother then that Jiang Cheng can hardly breathe for a moment.

“Throw me again,” Jin Ling says.

Jiang Cheng raises a skeptical eyebrow at him. “I think only boys who can float on their own get to be thrown,” he says.

“I can, I can!” Jin Ling squirms away from him and immediately dips lower in the water, but he keeps moving. He keeps his head up. “Again.” He tugs at Jiang Cheng’s sleeve, laughing even as he sputters water. “Again, again!” he demands.

“Just remember you asked for this,” Jiang Cheng says, and heaves him, still laughing, into the air.

[abigailabbyallen]

Hi. Thanks for visiting! I’m abby 🙂 … I dabble in drawing, photography, and various conglomerations of the two. call these things “Art,” call these things pseudo “art-esque” doodlings, call them “art, my-arse” utterly meaningless deductive drivvel. Call it what you will, essentially. But-Whatever sort-of image happens to strikes your soul, your fancy, your heart, your whatever part that most purely resonates-like a bell ringing true deep within you- i think this is real art. And whatever rare, precious image takes you aback, leaves you in awe, or just genuinely makes you feel, anything at all- in a way that stirs some lost, forgotten, or yet-to-be-discovered beauty deep within you to awaken, to be-moved, to arise wide-eyed from the darkling still of our soul’s dimminuendo towards sleep- i think this, too, must be true art. I think it’s a question of who you are and what captivates you- what invokes a sense of connection, awakens a feeling, causing some hardened-part of your heart to crack- just a little…just enough to let a little light shine-on… You crazy diamond, you : ) When an image intuitively resonates with you, in a way that, for a few seconds at least, alters the shape and shifts the light of your inner landscape…making you feel something, or anything more deeply, i call that art. My underlying issue here, is that i could never just proclaim myself to be an “artist.” It’s not really a self-issued title, i don’t think. or a “Hello! I’m ____” fill-in the blank sticky-label. But people do it. A lot… Maybe i need a healthier ego. Or maybe i need to stop quibbling over abstract semantics & direct my squabbling towards greater concerns; it might be nice if, like maybe we could eventually get-around to freeing Tibet…just for example. But i mean, god-forbid no-rush or anything. Just- nevermind. You get my point… again, a big thank-you to everyone (if indeed, there is anyone) which i realize there probably isn’t, and i’m talking (like a mental patient) to myself, and to no one… But! I’d like to hope that somewhere out-there listening is ONE…just ONE, similarly strange, singularly lovely, and utterly extraordinary SOMEbody. YOU ‘Somebody,’ mean more to me than ANYbody, So thanks, buddy 🙂 .abby :.

“…still, what i want in my life- is to be willing to be dazzled. To cast aside the weight of facts, and maybe, perhaps- to float just slightly above this difficult world.” Mary Oliver

hi there, and welcome! kind and curious stranger. i’m abby 🙂

thanks so much for stopping-by. …Here’s some of my artwork : ) and my many, many (indeed, perhaps- TOO many…?) pretty-random thoughts and feelings, …expressed predominantly in Rhyme. Yes. I repeat: i have an unconscious tendency to slip into what i desperately hope can sometimes sound pseudo-poetic, but what i suspect comes-across as more DR. Suess-like rhyme-speak. Now, you might be asking yourself “i beg your pardon?” Or “what on Earth is this girl even talking-about?” or some variant thereof. And trust me, i’m right there with ya. I hear you and i empathize completely. I just wish i could help you-out. I really, really do.

So here is my official “fair forewarning” beginning with a disclaimer: sometimes when i write, i start unconsciously rhyming all my sentences. It can get weird sometimes… that’s the worst-of it: you might think “this is weird,” which in-turn might make you feel similarly weird and slightly awkward reading it. At best, it’s mad-genius. At other-times, it is… quirky? devil-may-care whimsical? manic-pixie-esque self-actualized? um… i don’t know, cute? […please mentally insert appropriate adjective of your choosing, here: ____ ] oh, i almost forgot to add the requisite “it isn’t my fault” line. Ha. no but seriously, it’s not. it just seems to happen. its like a nervous tic, or a lisp…a silently typed “typo”-version of an insthurmountable, insthidious insthatiable lisp. Right… so it’s a bit like a lisp. except not at-all… for extremely obvious reasons. most notably: because, instead of having a truly adorable speech impediment due to a massive overbite that is nonetheless doomed to be obliterated by an absurdly expensive onslaught of orthodontic medieval torture at some point during childhood, i have already HAD braces. tra-la-la. But, more importantly, my issue has absolutely nothing to do with lisps or braces but with an insatiable, mostly unconscious, tendency to fall into Dr. Suess style rhyme-scheme whenever i write with some lofty, overarching intention (the irony here has not eluded-me) of attempting to express something i feel deeply and/or passionately about- regarding things i believe, or how i see certain things,or a part of myself that feels somehow inextricably entwined with the roots of something much greater and wiser than i could ever be. So, basically whenever i desperately want to communicate a real and honest feeling to other people- i tiptoe-backwards in time to a memory of some half-whispered song and an oceanic sway, where things felt safe- in that rhythmic to-and-fro place of breath, heartbeats, all in-sync with Kaos and harmonized with some great Symphony. So, here is a final, friendly fair-forewarning: There Will Be Rhymes.

and so, this is probably the reason why, sometimes, i wish words just didn’t exist- that we could rely on some other, silent form of communication. Like… we could converse via full-body dance charades, or we could speak – but only in Middle English, and only vicariously through sock-puppet avatars, or life could be one epic game of meta-pictionary, or, we’d learn to communicate via silent emanations of Soul-Speak; intuitively conjuring symbolic imagery through some combination of creative forces, like whatever maybe happens in a college “Improv 101” class… except we’d learn to cast ciphers in shadows by firelight, on a stage in some surreal dreamlike theatre infamous for its dedication to a single show, something with a strange and alluringly avant-garde title like, “In The Silence of Ciphers: Plato’s Cave of Shadow Puppetry.” But sometimes i just wish i could hear, for a little-while at-least, that truly ancient and long-lost Silence. Before Man came along with language and his constant chatter of words, and seeing-as how divinely complete the whole celestial orchestra seemed to be, the cosmic design of harmonic synchronicity (they had it all-down to a perfect T) we just couldn’t resist. We HAD to ruin-it, with our out-of-sync and off-key lil’ doggerel ditty- our dying cattle, death-rattle-like cry, resounding straight-up to Quintessence and back- in atonal unhindered cacophony:

We just had to shatter that silence.

So there you have it. Sigh… epically. (One must ALWAYS sigh epically.)

anyway, i hope you enjoy my art (and aren’t too terribly irritated by all my silly writing, pseudo-poems and general glossolalia). But i’d love-it if you stayed awhile and took a look around. I hope you leave here in a better mood than when you first entered. I suppose that’s probably a part of what i’m hoping to do here. because sometimes, feeling “better,” or even, sometimes… just trying to stay in the relative-range of “basically okay for the time-being,” are not always so easily grasped. Especially without other peoples’ help. so, i wish you the very best of luck- wherever you are out-there in this wildly bewildering world, wandering the earth with all the rest of us strange, beautiful monsters. again, thanks so much 🙂 – abby *

Note: This is a poem. Hence, the rhyming-thing is entirely intentional. Just in-case you started getting nervous 🙂 We may so often glimpse, but so rarely can we hold these ciphers cast in amber-fire dayglo. shadows perceived as mere hypnagogic echo-light , for insight speaks a language known only by the soul- symbols still-framed in flash-bulb brilliance- like a moth’s dazzled gasp, or a pale-fire ghost, hoping to re-ignite those wide-eyed-fires our hearts ache for the most. those things we had that made us happy, so very long ago, those things we lost somewhere back there, or left behind? cast aside? Did we spare a blink before releasing our hold? were we ever SO young- too young to regret our unscathed hearts yet to start bleeding,

when we were whole, unbearably light, and life felt breathless and beating, and there was a restless beauty awaiting discovery, a sense of grace in all of life’s unknown- but now looking-back, we shoulda coulda woulda really wished we’d known: that there are parts of life you must cherish- certain things you don’t let-go …and the rest of life? These other things are best held lightly- all-things fade, “mono no aware,” “this too shall pass,” so “go with the flow,” read “the art of letting-go,” learn to distinguish the sound of your voice from impostors of ego. but amidst all of this letting, losing, going, flow, there’s one thing our hands must hold, never let Who-You-Are fade-away or slip from your grasp, keep it clasped tight to your chest- because once it’s gone, you can’t get-it back. It’s these precious unspeakables that slip-away so silently, without the slightest “peep,” this moment of our heart’s detachment,

the moment we stop “Seeing” and the soul falls asleep, but some of us get lucky enough to fall- fast and far so finally to break (it has to be hard to re-start the heart and slap-us awake) That’s when we get that second chance- numbness gives way to melancholy, a newfound “dust as quintessence,” kind-of human empathy. an empty ache shaped by the contours of absence. That’s the Happy Ending, anyway. But its the only end i can envision, for some it takes a lifetime, to end at “Happy” once again- ….for others, merely an instant: a disaster, a loss, some miracle or gobbstopping vision, and that’s all it takes for us to fall, to break, to splinter like a singular beam of pure-white light suddenly crashing through a prism- to awaken as from a dream fractured- a kaleidoscopic collision a rainbow awaits at the end of every catastrophe, to glean from the wreckage still-reeling- its the BEAUTIFUL DISASTER reflected in our mirrorball shattered that bewilders and delights and creates us anew blinking-awake with the dazzle of light that seems to illuminate, or even originate- somewhere inside you. in the end, what we deem “True” is at the mercy of hope- a force that is truly unstoppable- for at heart, we’re all visionaries, creators, and dreamers

our imaginations careen beyond logics’ brink to dream the impossible- So-moved are we all by these God-lights colossal, that we can let-go for awhile of our “all-too-human” hold on so-called truths before we turn towards the unbounded numinal- to spin-up and out of ourselves in becoming something Chimerical something weightless, winged and Greater than ourselves overtaken by wildness once-more for a momentary miracle, as brightly-glanced will-o-the-wisps, wild and flying in breathless hope upwards, Up, Out. and Gone- with wild-eyes’ hypnotized in hope and blinding bright-sight of the Luminal.. Boo-ya. i.e. “The End.” And Now . . . More Artwork. By Me. Abby.

Quoth The Raven, ” Why, Hello Lenore.

The Abandoned Planet of Microscopia

  Empathy

” Do not go gentle into that good night, Rage-Rage, Against the Dying of The Light. ”

-Dylan Thomas

“There is no language for our pain…only a moan.” -Jerome k. Jerome

“Mono no Aware”

” this is the root of the root, and the bud of the bud

and the sky of a sky,

of this tree called life- which grows, higher than mind can hide or soul can hold. and this is the wonder that is keeping the stars apart- i carry your heart ( i carry it in my heart) ” – e.e. cummings

Hope…

  Hullabaloo. Hi. Thanks for visiting! I’m abby 🙂 … I dabble in drawing, photography, and various conglomerations of the two.