#hostile architecture? i know that's not what that means but

[beaft]

i would love for an architect or interior designer to explain to me why certain houses just Feel Bad. i was browsing homes on rightmove (sometimes it's fun to pretend you might be able to afford a home one day!) and i came across this one house that made me feel what i can only describe as instinctive dread. like it was a perfectly nice house, good lighting, big rooms, well-kept, but something about it just instilled me with this sense of "nope, no, absolutely fucking not" and i cannot for the life of me put my finger on it.

[alpaca-clouds]

How to make a "world" more accessible

Let's talk a bit about accessible worldbuilding. I am thinking here first about Solarpunk worlds, but also about other scifi and fantasy worlds, that often do not think about this at all. Again, there is this nasty tendency to just assume that there are no disabilities in those worlds - and it leaves disabled people often feeling left out.

One of the most basic accessibility features one would expect to see in a world would be some sorts of ramps. And don't get me started with "oh, in my world wheelchairs fly!", which is something that actually not all folks reliant on wheelchairs want - as the actual hand-moved wheelchair often gives them a certain control.

It should also be noted that ramps help not only wheelchair users, but also people with baby strollers, and folks who might use other mobility aids like rollators. Heck, in my life ramps have also helped me, when I was travelling with a large trunk. Really, ramps make life easier for a lot of folks! Heck, if we think about a solarpunk world, where hopefully a lot of folks would get around by bike, ramps would help as well.

Of course, in some cases (if feasible in the technology level) there might also be a need for some sort of elevator. Again, not only wheelchair users will make use of that.

Another thing that should help, would be a wider usage of stuff like orientation systems for blind people. Currently those things are fairly spotty. Like some places have them, other places don't. And even where they are implemented, a lot of folks do not know what they are and will walk over it and park their cars on it. Stuff like that, which will once again make stuff more dangerous and inaccessible for blind people.

Then there should more accessibility accomondations for people who are deaf or hard of hearing. Those could mean to install visual signals for warning systems, which often currently are mainly auditory. It could also mean a wider usage of stuff like subtitles if possible in the world. And it also could mean that in the world people are more encouraged to learn sign language.

But those are the obvious disabilities. The stuff folks think off first when they hear "disability".

But there are other disabilities. Personally, for example, I do have some issues with my bowels. So what would be important to me is easy access to toilets whereever I move around. Which also is to say: Yes, dear public transport. Not having a single accessible toilet in your fucking train is an accessibility issue and ableistic.

Or the one accessibility aspect that has slowly been taken away recently due to hostile architecture: Benches and other places in public to sit down on. Because a lot of folks just cannot stand/walk for a long while. This is true for old people, and recently increasingly too for folks disabled through COVID.

There is also the need for shaded areas. As there are several disabilities that do not deal well with direct sunlight. Be it people who react allergic against sunlight, be it people whose eyes cannot deal with too much light, or be it people who might just struggle with their circulation when in the direct sun for too long.

And then there is allergic people. Which is also a big chunk - and in some cases can be quite debilitating. And I might remind people: In a fantasy or scifi world there might be people allergic to some of the worldbuilding stuff. Like in the Witcher Triss is allergic against magic, and in the nice sapphic webcomic Always Human one of the two main characters is allergic against bio-implants. Hence, ideally in an accessible fantasy/scifi world it would be easy to access what kinda stuff is in a potion and what not, to allow folks to be safe.

Lastly, of course, there are neurodivergent folks and... about that I am going to talk tomorrow.

Oh, and by the way: If you are disabled and have ideas of how the world could be more accessible for you... Please feel free to add!

[mikerickson]

8/29/2024 - 9/6/2024

If I had a nickel for every time I took a vacation in a small European naval power that historically punched above its weight in global affairs I'd have two nickels, which... ah, you know the rest.

Just got back from a trip to the Netherlands and Belgium that was basically: Amsterdam -> Apeldoorn -> Utrecht -> Den Haag -> Brussels -> Ghent -> Amsterdam. I will now proceed to talk to myself about the highlights below the cut.

Still can't sleep on planes. I even took a sleeping pill and bought a fancy new neck pillow thing to help, but instead I was just exhausted and strangling myself. My dinner also didn't sit well with me, so every time I was about to fall asleep, my gag reflex would trigger and I felt like I was gonna throw up. Seven hours of this was not very relaxing.

Landed at ass o'clock in the morning local time and had 6 hours to kill before hotel check in. I've always read that spending time outdoors in natural sunlight helps regulate your circadian rhythm and can fight jet lag, so I took us to look at some windmills. This was kind of a blur and I'm not certain it made much of a difference because I did end up crashing and taking a nap in the afternoon anyway.

Acknowledging that I am biased about this because I am 1) American and 2) literally a traffic engineer by trade, I simply cannot describe the Netherlands as anything other than "car-hostile". I felt actively unsafe driving around each city we visited because there are so many people on bicycles everywhere, who have right of way. Hell, even as a pedestrian I didn't feel safe because they come at you from every direction and you gotta keep your head on a swivel at all times. In The Hague I watched a woman get knocked into by a cyclist who just shouted over her shoulder "Let op voor fietsen!" ("Watch out for bikes!") and carried on.

Amsterdam ended up being more interesting than I was expecting and now I kinda wish I had dedicated one more day for it in the itinerary. Convenient and easy mass-transit system, some of the best bookstores I've ever been in, and beautiful canals everywhere you look.

Were I forced to describe the geography of the Netherlands, I would have to call it "suspiciously flat." I also got to continue my tradition of traveling to foreign countries, seeing literal hundreds of spinning wind turbines all over the place, and seething with jealousy.

Utrecht was a neat, smaller city with a central canal that I wish I had set aside more time for. Felt like a place where you'd actually want to live more than a touristy city.

The Mauritshuis in The Hague is where Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring is located, and you know that before you even get to that room because she's plastered on 99% of everything for sale in the gift shop right at the entrance.

When we drove over the Netherlands-Belgium border, it started getting overcast. These gray skies hung around for four days, and dissipated as soon as we traveled back north on the final day. All of my memories of this country will now have a gray/de-saturated filter on them.

I know Brussels has a reputation of being a run-down or dangerous city among Europeans, but it just felt like a regular American city to me (specifically like the architecture/street layout of Boston with the political importance of Washington DC). Like, I don't know what to tell you, sometimes cities have visible homeless people, unsightly graffiti, and ethnic minority neighborhoods? It's gonna be okay, I promise. Amsterdam felt like Weenie Hut Jr. by comparison.

Going through the European Parliament building was very cool and very well laid-out and informative. Definitely a personal highlight of the trip for me.

The Belgian War Museum kinda just felt like some rich guy's personal collection of artifacts the public shouldn't have had access to? Not a lot of labels explaining what you're looking at in any language.

Belgian chocolate is fine. Not bad, but I mean it's chocolate, that's hard to screw up, you know?

During my research before this trip I kept seeing a general consensus that Bruges is super touristy and sanitized and feels fake and that Ghent was better for a more "authentically" preserved medieval center. I'm glad I opted to go there instead because it exceeded my expectations. Awesome architecture everywhere you turn, way fewer crowds than I expected, and it still felt lived in by modern people rather than a giant open-air museum.

Literally did not see a single physical Euro at all on this trip. Both of these countries are entirely cashless societies, and everyone (both tourists and locals) used chip readers and contactless payment for damn near every interaction. If anything, I saw tons of "Card Only/No Cash" signs and none of the opposite.

[ursula-legun]

really going insane in my plant class over the Sociale Dynamiques......vent below the cut

the class program coordinator is an ex-navy officer, lots of the parks and rec boys we're working with are vets, as is at least one prominent student in the class.....and most of the students are like. retiree age white women who own land and want to learn how to improve it. so it's a fairly conservative crowd, sprinkled with a handful of younger idealistic envirohippywhatever types.

but the class is like. "Fairly Progressive," in a seattle-area standard sort of way. everybody's asked for their pronouns regularly, there's like....clear expectations being set around accessibility, people are encouraged to take breaks and not take anything too seriously, lots of discussion about the history of colonial devastation on US environments, etc. we average two land acknowledgements a day.

and i know that none of that means anything, but it's still so disgustingly dissonant with the actual material goals. as repayment for the training, we're being asked to work on this project that is, like...40% developing hostile architecture in two prominent parks. and while we were out there the other day, the program coordinator (+ "friendly" tiny 75yo ecologist auditing the program to report to the supervisory org) called the cops on somebody for being too close to that area of the park while having two backpacks. with half the class actively laughing + making jokes about it the whole while through.

none of this is surprising or unusual, but the hypocrisy of it is really getting to me. the program coordinator did refer to the whole trespassing/eviction/citation/harassment process as "engaging a community member" and i'm really taken aback by like. how angry i am that this guy is pretending to be respectful of homeless people, even in a normalized/thoughtless way?

idk. obviously i'm not going to be engaging with the stated goals of preventing people from camping on public land - unless i can find a way to make the land more camp friendly - but i'm so livid about like. the way that this is playing out as a process. i'm also honestly just genuinely confused, like....how are these literal actual ecologists able to, with a straight face, blame the damage to local plants on homeless people trying to fucking sleep, and not like....the whole fucking process of urbanization that led to this point. like. girl. we're planting on an old airstrip, in the middle of a burgeoning urban core, that's downstream of what used to be a creosote factory.

but that's too big for you to get mad at, so you're just going to cave in and kick out the handful of people trying to find somewhere to be left the fuck alone? it's disgusting and terrifying to see people swerve around things, mentally, like this.

[citrous241]

1.21 is looking fire, but 1.22 has got to be an End update.

Minecraft has always had really good lore and story-telling, but does anyone else feel like the End is just missing something?

It's to be expected, it hasn't been updated for the last 7 years and the last update added more questions than answers. I feel like it's just on the cusp of being as clear as the rest of the game.

It's a dimension that's supposed to feel off, and uncanny. Literally the only track that plays is 15 minutes of warped mash-ups of Overworld tracks. End stone is just inverted Cobblestone.. etc. But even then it's still wrong.

I just have to know, Minecraft lore is built off of head canons but I'm just unable to form one that makes sense regarding the End. Endermen make sense, I believe they're warped and "evolved" humans. Eating only chorus makes them teleport, their long arms and bodies to reach the high snaking chorus plants, their larger eyes to see in perpetual darkness, etc. Their aversion to water is a wrench in that but I'm not perfect and my head canon isn't right. Endermen could have nothing to do with humans.

Shulkers and End Cities are what confounds me. Are Shulkers natural living organisms? The Dragon and Ender-men both have black skin and dark purple eyes but this thing has yellow skin and an almost magenta shell. I think they're some sort of automatons, but built by who? The ancient builders, the ones who evolved into Endermen? But the spiral staircases in the End Cities don't seem designed for humans (or maybe I just suck at climbing them) and the ceilings aren't really high enough for Endermen. Maybe Shulkers are another protector mob of their area. But protecting what? Protecting the means of personal flight maybe, but that looks nothing like the rest of the end - its literally made from the wings of the Phantoms of the Overworld.

End Cities themselves do kind of make sense to me, their architecture mimics the branches of a chorus plant. But whilst chorus seems to be the only natural thing in the End, the cities very much aren't. There's no way that structure would work under normal gravity. But surely the End just has weak gravity? Nope, it's the same as the Overworld.

Everything in the End just feels so artificial. The central island; with Obsidian pillars punching through the whole thing, a material that can only be made using 2 fluids that don't exist in the End, topped with a crystal made partially from the tears of a creature in another dimension and some sort of Eye which we can only make by killing an Enderman and fusing it's remains with the ground up remains of another creature from said other dimension. Also, it is so far away from the rest of the End, as if someone destroyed or moved these other islands away. The Dragon itself to, she works like no other mob. People say that she's a machine which I don't agree with, her erratic behaviour is because she is the only mob of her type and hasn't been updated like ever. I don't think she's native to the End though; Endermen, the only other creature in existence that looks like her, can be hostile to her.

Trying to piece this together as I'm writing this is making me think of a new head canon: The End is just a melting pot of travellers who got lost and stuck. Think of something like the Void from the Loki show. I think the End was initially just a mass of floating islands with the chorus fruit, in the Void between dimensions. Then the ancient builders arrived, constructing the obsidian pillars and the bedrock portal frame. I think they found something, maybe it could be whatever made the End Cities. But regardless, something dangerous. Something that made them separate the only way out of the dimension by several kilometres of Void, that made them create a Dragon to guard said way out. Something that made them sacrifice themselves by sealing themselves into the End.

There are a few holes in this. Maybe the ancient builders did build the End Cities before/after becoming Endermen. Maybe the danger was the Dragon, but why would it guard the exit portal? And I've kind of ignored the fact that Endstone is inverted Cobblestone, maybe the whole dimension if artificial? Built by the ancient builders entirely? Or maybe the End was spawned from ancient humanities collective mind, like a sort of yin to their yang.

I would love an End update to add a few things. I don't like most popular ideas or mods for an End update, as they often stray too far from what the End is. I would like to be able to find whatever gravity-defying sentient race built the End Cities, maybe they could also be warped into Endermen like the ancient builders were - but could still have a sense of self and humanity, or maybe they're some sort of Phantom People. I would like to find this danger that caused the ancient builders to sacrifice themselves, a new huge boss at the edge of the End would be awesome. I would also like, if they made them less annoying that is, for Phantoms to spawn in the End just normally. They feed on Insomnia right? What's more insomniac then an entire dimension where it's always night and nothing can sleep?

I would also like purple chorus wood lol.

[reblog-house]

Willing To Try

Characters: Etho, Scar

Wc: 720

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 245, “You Never Cared”

Ao3: Here!

“Hey, Scar.”

“Etho.”

“So… what are you doing?” Etho said and tilted his body to look past Scar. 

Scar didn’t turn to see him, he had no way to know what Etho was trying to do, and yet he moved to completely obscure his view of the desk.

Etho looked away, trying to appear unaffected. He didn’t sigh, though he wanted to.

“Why do you ask?”

“Can’t a father trying to reconnect with his son ask what his son is doing?”

Finally, Scar turned to face him. “I know what I said last time.” He waved his hand dismissively as he continued. “You��re welcome to be here and all, Bdubs clearly needs it—” He stopped his movements and his eyes bore into his. “—but that doesn’t mean I want to forgive you.”

“Yet?” 

Etho hoped he didn’t sound as pathetic as he felt.

“Depends on how you act, mister. Now, as I was doing before you so rudely interrupted…”

“I just asked what you were doing. I wouldn’t consider that rude.”

Scar pinned him with a glare. “Oh, you don’t get to decide what is or isn’t rude, I’ll have you know! Not while you’re in this household.”

“Okay…” Etho backed up, hands in the air. He felt that the aggression was unwarranted, but he wasn’t going to say anything about it. Not when Scar was looking at him that way. He had no idea what had happened from the last time they’d held a conversation with each other to now. 

He’d seen him from time to time when picking Bdubs up and waved in his direction. Nothing hostile about it, so… what changed?

“I… maybe it’s not the best time, but—”

“If it’s not the best time, then don’t speak! Easy! If you make me move the ruler and lose the line, I won’t be as forgiving.”

“Oh, are you drawing?” Etho perked up. He remembered Scar’s artistic tendencies back when he was a child, but he didn’t know whatever happened to them. Knowing they still existed made him smile.

“What about it?”

“Nothing, I didn’t know you still did art.”

Etho wasn’t the best at reading people, but even he could see something in Scar’s expression break. His son tried to cover it up. His mouth turned into a straight line, but he couldn’t hide the way his eyes still showed betrayal.

“Etho.” He paused. “... I’m studying architecture.”

Etho’s brain short-circuited. He… what? How did he not know? Why did nobody tell him?

Apparently, he phrased the question out-loud, or his face said it all, because Scar looked at him in silence.

“You never cared enough to ask.” Scar’s voice wobbled and new lights reflected from his eyes.

What was he supposed to do? He’d never comforted someone about to cry before. He didn’t know how to comfort his children. He never had to before. There was always Cleo to—

He stopped in his tracks and went still.

Oh.

Right.

“I… I see that. Scar, I’m sorry.”

Scar wiped at his eyes with one hand and mocked him in a childish voice. “Ohhh I’m so sorry.” He glared again. “Get lost. You’ll make me ruin my project.”

Etho didn’t have anything else to say. 

And so, Etho turned around.

“Where’s Bdubs, anyway.” Scar added bitterly, looking down at his project. “Can’t imagine he’s happy with you making him wait so long.”

Etho’s mouth ran dry. He considered not saying anything and just leaving, like Scar had told him to, but a part of him knew that would just make things worse.

“He’s out,” he said, tentatively. “With Cleo. Something about an activity. I came to see you.” He paused briefly. “I hope that’s alright.”

Scar’s body went still for a few moments, and with a single word, he said everything Etho needed to know.

“Oh.”

Etho watched Scar’s shoulders loosen, and he hoped he’d made the right choice.

“Let me… finish this up.” Scar said, slowly, hesitant. “Close the door when you leave.” With confidence, he then added, “You better not make me regret this.”

That’s what Etho hoped too.

As he was told, he left and closed Scar’s door.

All he had to do was spare some of his time and wait.

He was never good at doing that, but for once, he was willing to try. 

[liketwoswansinbalance]

How do you think the twins (like all of them in SGE) would act in real life?

I'm not sure if I'm interpreting your question correctly, so you can correct me if I'm wrong! I will take the ask to mean that you'd like to know how I think they would they adjust to our modern world, not necessarily them in a Modern AU. (Also, would you like me to include Castor and Pollux? I'm not sure if I'd have an immediate response for them, but I'll try to think of something, if you'd like me to.)

Sophie and Rise Rhian would probably embrace modern conveniences, and Rhian would likely exhibit more fear than Sophie would, in response to them, or he'd conceptualize things like electricity, for instance, as a just another form of sorcery. They would both appreciate modern cosmetics and technology, and Sophie would probably never want to return to old, backward ways when the future is so pristine and sanitary. Rhian, however, would mourn the great architectural feats of our past and our obsession with pragmatism and designs purely focused on utility. Unfortunately, I could see them being prone to believing absurd, medical/political conspiracy theories, and their germophobia becoming worse.

Agatha, Rafal, TCY Rhian, and Japeth would be more skeptical about modernity, at first, I think. Agatha would probably grow used to it, but continue to live by her old ways and values, in many cases. She might get into environmentalism, humanitarian causes, or antiwar efforts, etc. If either Rafal, Rhian, or Japeth saw a use or benefit to modern technology and ways of life, they would likely adapt, especially if it could get them something they desperately wanted. Rhian would probably use some form of broadcasting or social media frequently—and eventually get cancelled. I could also see Rafal or Japeth trying to radically change or impact the modern world if it provoked them. Japeth could go down the activism route (if it's in regards to his being gay), but I can't see him being that selfless about others' rights, others who have nothing to do with him, and I can't come up with any modern objects or activities that might appeal to him. Maybe, he'd even disavow modern technology, if it proved it weren't a means to getting Aric back. In addition, I could also see Rafal being incredibly rude in commanding voice-operated devices, and refusing to entertain the trivial, human-like gestures machines are programmed to recite, like greetings, and he would rarely use "please" and "thank you" in his commands. He'd have no patience for small talk or manufactured, repetitive, pleasantness because it's just a machine, and he'd be damned if a machine expected more respect from him than any human subordinate ever would! And, he'd get irrationally offended by certain output before he realized why things did what they were preprogrammed to do, such as give simple-minded answers that could appear to be an insult to his intelligence and common sense, as, a machine couldn't know his identity. After all, machines aren't capable of being hostile like Adela Sader was. So, eventually, he'd learn. Also, getting automated or human directions from the bodiless voices of intercom systems, at self-checkout lines, or on public transportation would probably infuriate him because he's so used to being the greatest authority at all times. Why abide the law when you can keep above it?

[the-letterbox-archives]

Hello the-letterbox-archives! 👋✨

From your tag games (Badly Summarized WIP and Ask Box), TITANSPINE caught my eye. Can you tell me a little more about it? Who are the main characters? How does the police and justice system play into this world? Or, anything you wish to share about it~ ✨

Thank you again for your posts! 💛💫✨

I FORGOT TO ANSWER THIS SORRY GOLDEN!!!

anyway, thank you for the ask! TITANSPINE sure is an interesting one, let's get into it!

the characters

this one is gonna be hard to navigate, because there aren't too many named characters so far (heck, there's only one!), so i'll talk about lance, whilst trying to be as spoiler free as possible!

lance dexter is the mc of TITANSPINE! he's 16, and has a habit of bouncing from place to place amongst the lower levels of the city (and by lower levels, i mean geographically and socioeconomically) due to his lack of familial ties. he has a family, but they're uh... not with him at this time of the story. he has other social ties in criminal contexts, however, so he's got more relationships (those will become more apparent very quickly). he does own a car, and when he isn't with one of the aforementioned people he knows, that's his house.

personality wise, lance is very confrontational of authority. he's incredibly worldly and understands how his world works - i like to believe he is a character who has more control than he's expected to have (however, being beaten to near-death in an alleyway doesn't create that feeling). i relate to him a lot, actually; a scared kid coming into his own, and while it isn't pretty, and he's still suffering quite a bit, he's growing! and i love him for it (sorry for nearly killing you buddy).

the police + the TITANSPINE

this one's pretty important. the police and the government have a chokehold on lunaris; the goal of these forces is to create a society they can control, without the rabble of poor, revolutionary streets. it's a very classist world, and the government uses the incredibly brutish and high profile police force to exercise that control, especially on 'lower class' citizens.

that bleeds well into the next topic. the TITANSPINE (the acronym, not the story title (blue colour indicates the title, blank indicates the in-world principle)) is a new police initiative that is currently trying to be implemented when the story begins. it is not introduced in the story just yet, and the details are largely obscured, since lunaris is full of misinformation, and since lance is technically the narrator of this story (except in certain situations, but i'm not sure of that yet haha), he has only heard remnants of the TITANSPINE policy, enough to know it is dangerous for him.

"but letters!" you say, "what is the TITANSPINE?" great question! simply put, the TITANSPINE is a 'vigilant policing' initiative that aims to target the lower class and other 'misfortunate' individuals. it is presented to those it will not affect as a way to 'cleanse' and 'protect' society by regulating the 'undesirables,' but those who the policy will target understand it for what it is - a violent approach to remove poor people from lunaris society to better control the masses and design a world without 'problems.' basically a fucked up and violent way to bring about a perceived utopia for the upper class. the TITANSPINE initially focuses on jail time, fines, and smaller warnings, wearing away the public's confidence of revolution until bigger punishments can be implemented.

(as i'm typing this, i'm likening it to the american war on drugs, mostly the approach taken by the government and police during the event, but i am not all that educated in it so take that with a grain of salt. one i can make a decent comparison to is hostile architecture, the kind used by cities to lessen homeless people's places to sleep outside. imagine that but with more jail and bigger scale. and less about architecture and more society.)

sorry for the big post, think of it as an apology for waiting so long to reply! thank you again for asking!!

[inventedfangirling]

Episode 7 Pat : To lose or not to win that is the question

Okay I saw a post talking about how episode 7 pat "loses the bet everyday" and how in this rooftop scene...

Pat raises the stakes (asking pran to confess in public) to keep Pran from saying the words just then (knowing he won't take that option) is making me feel and think a lot of things and now my brain is all over the place and i might as well just all note it down here or i won't have peace of mind.

At the outset i want to confess that eventhough i know that the bet has been for pran's sake i still viewed at as a legitimate competition that both pat and pran were trying to win, but i'm realising more and more how (for a large part of the bet) that just wasn't the case at all.

Pat came all the way from Bangkok to the hostile architecture trip alone only and only for Pran. Pat wants to be with him. Pran knows that and Pat knows that Pran knows that. He hasn't tried to hide it at all.

Pat knows that Pran has feelings for him, Pran knows that Pat knows that. But he also isn't ready to admit what it would entail and the familiarity of competition between them allows him to explore that.

"Whoever falls in love first loses" - when both of them know that they have feelings for each other, is hilaaaarious on first watch, but once you've rewatched it countless times and reached a whole new level of brain rot where your blood cells have p cells embedded within p cells in them then it isn't funny, it isn't funny at all * screams into a pillow *

Coming back to the bet, and what it actually means which is that whoever admits it(their feelings) first, loses. And all of us including pat and pran know that pat has already lost. Him coming to the trip just to get Pran to talk and his confession that he actually didn't like Ink 'like that' is all pointing to just one very obvious thing.

So Pat has already lost and yet they're both entering into the bet as if on equal ground. Pat could (and is very much willing to) keep losing over and over again, he very clearly wants to be with Pran but he would keep the charade of the bet up if it meant Pran wasn't ready.

Which means that the entire time that they were teasing and flirting with each other, all throughout episode 7, pat keeps on losing just for Pran's sake.

Do you realise how absolutely insanely madly crazy (mature) in love Pat is???? This might be a childish bet to YEW but to him its a space for Pran (and him) to explore their feelings without the responsibility of a relationship on them, it's actually revolutionary.

Kinda like killing with kindness, which basically sums up the kinda guy Pat is when he's with Pran.

"Don't force me to" he says in response to Pran's "You're just not brave to" (confess) when all of us know Pat is very well brave enough to do that and that is exactly what Pat is reiterating here. He's saying "you very well know why i'm partaking in this charade don't act like you don't i could kiss your competitive ass right now but im not doing it cos i want you to (admit that you) want it".

The man is basically losing (coming over to play and then offering to clean pran's face cos he looked upset screams somebody who wants to win real bad right hahahah NOT *argh pat can you not be so unreally sweet people have to go back to their real lives with real men to be disappointed by*) over and over again asking Pran to "just let me love you, you dork".

Here Pat is literally doing the confession, the very thing they started the bet stating, "i'll make you beg on your knees for me", well he's almost doing the next best thing, and he's doing it willingly, in front of people, with the most genuine smile on his face.

And when he raises the stakes on the rooftop and he does it entirely for Pran again. As much as he wants to be with Pran he equally wants it to be when Pran is ready for it. Not for it to be a decision he is forced or boxed into. He doesn't want to beat Pran he wants Pran to walk into the loss like he himself did, over and over again, because that's just the kinda guy he is.

Boy basically said if me winning the bet means you losing your chance to make that choice for yourself then i don't want that kinda win.

Which is why he's been willingly giving up all the chances to win throughout the episode, but continuing to put up the charade of the bet cos 1. yeah ofc its loads of fun teasing pran and he is so grateful he gets to be close to him again but more importantly 2. he can't (but he is fully willing to) wait for Pran to mentally be ready to get into a relationship.

"As for me, when i have a lover, I always let my lover win" - And truer truths haven't been told. Man has been losing since the very beginning. And that too happily. He is only doing it to give Pran the time that he deserves to process the whole thing and accept his love.

See even here he isn't expecting Pran to confess his love and sweep the whole bet thing away.

Look at Pat pausing trying to figure out what Pran is doing here. I can almost hear the cogs in his brain turn, until the very moment that Pran extends his hand to wipe the stray piece of rice away and then gives him that look. The look that says, "I love you, i'm done making you wait, thankyou, i love you".

So to conclude, Pat like the simp he is entered the bet (and kept willfully losing) only to make Pran comfortable. And literally the first moment that he completely feels comfortable, Pran gives in.

This whole post is borne out of my thoughts after i read what was said in here.

For more of my bet era patpran brainrot :

[breezybangtanbebe]

🐍Chapter Two🐍

✨masterlist✨

While most parts or Luminasia wouldnt be considered the safest, they paled in comparison to Mamba District. The central parts of the neon city were basically an amusement park versus the concentrated grit and shadows that made up the reptilian beings' territory with a crime rate so high, local authorities didn't even flag citizens for speeding through it.

Despite its unsavory reputation, there was always much entertainment to find there. Night clubs, illegal gambling spots, *ahem* nightly solicitors, drugs, cheap liqour, debauchery...

Aaaaand Trouble. Never a shortage of that.

Megan hadnt made it her business to spend much time around these parts in years, finding her fair share of all of those things and more. In the time that she did , however, she obtained a decent lay of the land. Which was useful to her when needing a stealthy way in and out on missions like this.

Her bike purred quietly as it came to a full stop in the grime-coated backstreet alley, and her view of the warehouse was centered several feet ahead of her.

Black and brown bricks soaked in the evening rain, the gaping windows and crumbling architecture gave the abandoned area it's ominous appeal. At some point, the building may have been used for mass manufacturing or packaging. But now it stood as a hiding place for the forsaken or rebellious teens looking for a spot to get high or do who knows what else. An extremely peculiar place for something as valuable as a synstone to be hiding.

"Ok Phor." Megan whispers, nudging the kickstand out before swinging her leg over the bike.

The moment her heels touch the moist pavement, a wave of panic rolls over her, sending goosebumps all over her body. Something about this place had that effect on her, whether it be for good or bad reasons. She doesnt show it in her agile stride though, walking with confidence while keeping to the shadows of the alley until she reached its end.

"Im here. What's it looking like?" She speaks lowly to her trusty pup in the chair, who was already working on scoping the scene.

"Uh give me a sec. Im hacking a PD drone with some infared as we speak."

Seconds later, a buzzing drone zips over Megan's head and she watches as it hovered over the baren warehouse. As it scanned it, greenscale images of the building's interior fill Phor's screens. He types quickly, shifting the filters until he manages to get an unobscured high-resolution view of several hulking figures surround one in the middle of the vast room.

"Oh shit." the canine utters. Megan's eyes widen cautiously.

"Whatchu mean, Oh shit? Who in there?" she whispered harshly. All the while, Phor's toe beans tap frantically.

"Oh just your favorite kind of distant planet natives. Most that were so hostile that the mayor of Lumin gave them their own little hidey hold of hell in the ugliest part of the city...hehehe.." Phor chuckles nervously, zooming in on the exact location where the synstone's signature was the strongest.

"I know aint shit funny over there, Pho. Show me what you see.."

Phor obediently sent a live feed view of what he was seeing to Megan's watch. It blinked with the notification and she lifts her wrist just as the hologram rectangular screen materialized.

"Oh shit..." Megan shared Phor's grim sentiment the moment sees what he's looking at.

A grainy image of the cleared space is pulled into view. Large dangling industial lights hum overhead ans in the center one of their beams was a huddle of tall, slender reptilian figures in dark tailored, their massive tails whipping against the dusted concrete floors.

The Vortarians were a unique group of individuals that made up most of Mamba's population. They were a nasty race that had humanoid bodies covered in thick, mosaic green scales that could shift to blend in with their environments. Their sharp-clawed hands and feet could easily gut a man with one swipe, and they had black beady eyes with gold pupils used for tracking their prey in any light. Not to mention their pharyngeal jaws that opened their mouths wide enough to engulf just about anything  in a bite riddled of razor-sharp fangs that leaked acidic flesh-melting venom.

They were quite intimidating to say the least.

But their presence wasn't even the main cause for Megan's shock. She actually expected some Vortarians to be there since this was their neck of the woods. By her count, there were at least 8 of them. Barrelling through them wouldnt be an issue with what she was packing.

It was was the man that seemed to be in their custody, seated at a table with his hands bound and his lips quirked up in an unphased smirk , that had her second guessing the entire mission.

"Of course its him." she grumbles, followed by Phor's hum of agreement.

"Mmhmm..I knew I detected a Bangtanian signature when I was tracking the stone but I had no clue it would be THEE Bangtanian himself. Sheesh. No wonder theres so many Vorts on him."

Megan was vaguely attuned to Phor's assessment, but her gaze fixed heavily on the dragon-eyed leader of one of the most elite squadrons to come from the Intergalactic Hybe Force, straight out of the mystical planet of Purpura's capital city of Bora.

Who he was to the world was slightly different from who he was to her, however.

And knowing he was most likely after the same synstone that she was, made everything a million times more complicated.

[veryimportantsparkles]

"I really like her!" whispers Bitey with a smile. "I think we're going to be vampire sisters!" "I thought you wanted to hunt vampires now, not adopt them," Onmund whispered back sternly. He was wary of this girl. He had given up on pleading with his headstrong wife to stop raiding Nordic tombs, and now she's finally unleashed an undead terror she can't put back. "You know it's not so simple, honey!" the Orc giggles, "This is the first vampire I've met who wasn't rude! And anyways," she strokes his hair like a pet, "I kill disgusting ugly stupid Nords all the time but I keep you around. It's the same thing." "Y-yes dear," he looks at his feet and tries to look polite, all the way to Solitude.

At long last, Bitey got all the special missions and new merchants in the Thieves Guild, and her final reward was to be named Guildmaster. But uh, she kind of thought she already was the Guildmaster? After all the nonsense she's put up with, only now do they recognize her as the boss? What, does Guildmaster just mean 'best errand boy' or something? She was trudging all over the country for these idiots. The ceremony didn't even have a cake.

Anyways, Bitey has become restless and ran off into the wilds once more. There's a cave near Riften that she hadn't found the time to peek into yet, so she headed out east and stumbled into...the main Dawnguard questline.

Bitey was enamored with the architecture of Fort Dawnguard and, despite being a cured vampire herself, has no problem killing other vampires. In fact, killing vampires is how she became a vampire in the first place. Every single vampire she's ever met has been hostile, except maybe one, and even she was rude.

And then Bitey opened up Dimhollow Crypt and met Serana. She wasn't super friendly, but she didn't attack, and sometimes that's enough. Bitey's spent her whole life retaliating for one cruelty after another, so even the slightest ounce of peaceful behavior makes her enamored. That's how she got entangled with the College of Winterhold, how she became so attached to Onmund, that's even how the guys in the Thieves' Guild have managed to stay alive. You don't even really have to be nice to her. There are about a hundred random caves and ruins in the forsaken country of Skyrim where you get shot at just for looking at a guy. But Serana just wanted to go home, and Bitey didn't really have a reason to refuse.

Out of character, I had planned out that I was going to re-infect Bitey with vampirism, but once I got in and was looking around, I wasn't sure I wanted to pick the Volkihar faction over the Dawnguard faction. I read up on the questline, and if you refuse to join them at the beginning of the story you can still get turned into a vampire lord later on. So I figured I would leave it up to Bitey to decide. When we got to Serana's home, her dad didn't seem very loving, and Bitey picked up on that a little. But it wasn't until she saw the vampire lord transformation animation that she made her decision. Because the red fleshy texture on the transformation is fucking gross, Bitey noped out of there. Dawnguard it is!

[myriadparacosm]

CHARMED AU - 1. Something Wicca This Way Comes

Read on AO3

Sirius isn’t sure anymore. Grimmauld Place hasn’t changed, not one bit, which shouldn’t scare him off but he has left this place with the hope that it would have crumbled down. The bricks are clean and shiny despite their dark colours. It shouldn’t be a contrast with the rest of the Borough of Islington and London’s architecture but the house still stands out - as if to scream that it's better than any other. It wouldn’t be a complete surprise that somehow Grimmauld Place inherited their family’s big ego.

He sighs and checks on his parked bike before taking off his helmet. It’s hopefully not too late to come. With his heavy backpack in hand, he climbs the steps he hoped he would never have to ever again. The silver knocker in the shape of a twisted serpent greets him with an infuriating clean glint. Sirius roughly hits it against the door.

With a sigh, he prepares himself with a practised smile and a last look at his motorbike. The trip has been pleasing especially with the company of the full moon always following him, no matter the clouds passing by, and it somehow softened the cold as he drove. It’s not every day that you can see a full moon this beautiful.

“Yes?”

That’s not Regulus. Sirius frowns at the tanned, quite dark, man with perfect bright blond hair as he slowly pieces together a far off memory of a child a bit similar.

“Aren’t you— the Rosier boy?” He asks.

“Evan,” he says, glancing at him up and down. “Sirius, right?”

Frankly it’s obvious who he is but Sirius is more concerned about what he is doing here. He crosses his arms and tries to take a look inside.

“Of course that’s me. What are you doing here? Where is Regulus?”

Rosier purses his lips and hesitates to look behind him although he closes the door a bit more. “Hum-”

“Alright, let me in,” he huffs out before he can be locked out.

“Did you tell Reg’ that you would drop by?” He asks and pushes the door when Sirius tries to open it by force. “Stop that!”

“Look, I don’t know who you are but that’s-”

“What are you doing here?”

Sirius lets go of the door, turning around to spot his little brother at the bottom of the steps. Regulus almost glares at Sirius’ innocent motorbike before focusing on him.

“Reggie,” he greets with a genuine smile but his brother gets only more hostile by the clench of his jaw and furious scowls. “I’m— I’m home.”

Regulus loudly scoffs and angrily stomps up the stairs. He hasn’t grown much from a year ago and Sirius is relieved by it. It means that he hasn’t missed a lot.

“Home?” He repeats. “Home? This hasn’t been your home since you left 10 years ago,” he hisses out.

“Hey, I came back-”

Regulus faces him with a scathing glare and his hands curled into fists. “You came back for Alphard’s funeral! You didn’t even show up when he was sick and you knew.”

“It was complicated!”

“Because of course it’s always the worst for Sirius, isn’t it?” He spits back. “Did you think I was having fun?!”

“Re-”

“You wanted to leave this house and family, Sirius!” He exclaims. “That was your choice and you never came back on that, not even when I was alone here did you try to not be as egoist as you have always been!”

“Hey! You two twats!” Evan shouts before giving a pointed look at their surroundings. “You’re making a scene.”

“That’s what he has always loved to do,” Regulus spits out, roughly pushing Sirius out of his way to walk in the house.

“Reggie, we’re not done!” Sirius storms in too even if Evan clearly tries to close the door. “Look I’m here and you out of everyone should know why it was so difficult-”

“Because it wasn’t difficult for me?!” Regulus snaps, throwing his bag on the couch as Sirius follows him in the living room. “I warned you that Alphard was sick but you waited at the last moment to show up! Mother died when I was barely six and then Father just after you ran away. Alphard is the only reason why I didn’t end up homeless!”

“I was fifteen! And I didn’t know about Orion until two years later!”

“Yes and you didn’t try to come back or even talk to me, did you?” He hisses. “Makes you wonder if you weren’t actually running away from me.”

“From you?! Are you mad?”

“Oh, we have a guest?”

Sirius turns to spot a woman, a stark reflection of Evan but with longer hair and a kinder if not pure angelic look, walking down the stairs with a smile. Regulus sighs as Evan glances at her.

“Not the moment Panda,” he says.

“Who is that?”

“Hi, Sirius! I'm Pandora.”

“Reggie, who are they?” Sirius asks.

“They are my friends,” he replies with that annoying tone of his, “you know people who care about me.”

“You know perfectly that I care about you!”

“We live with Regulus.”

“Pandora!”

“What? It’s the truth and Sirius should know if he wants to stay here.”

“He isn’t staying.”

“I am!” Sirius argues and quickly steps around to face his brother who tries to escape through the living room connected to the dinning one. “Wait, did you change the place?”

“Alphard did. Not that you care.”

“Reggie, I’m trying here!”

“I don’t want to listen to you!” Regulus shouts. “And you get out of here before I call the police!”

Sirius freezes in surprise. “What? Re-”

“No,” he growls. “You aren’t going to waltz back in here like you did nothing. You left me and when I asked your help for Alphard-”

“I wrote to him,” Sirius blurts out. “Almost every week, we wrote to each other.”

Regulus shakes his head, slightly surprised. “What?”

The other two supposed roommates of his brother are clearly eavesdropping but Sirius feels like he is hanging off a thin rope - one that he doesn’t want to break in fear that it fully destroys what he wants to salvage with his brother.

“Since I ran away, we wrote to each other,” he explains. “I didn’t… I didn’t always have the money to write back. And somehow he always bloody knew where I was because I always got them without a hitch. I thought that you knew since he told me— everything about you.”

Regulus glares at him dubiously before his face ticks with a fleeting softness. He squints at the floor. It doesn’t completely break the tension but at least his brother doesn’t look up with eyes full of hell’s fire.

“Did you ask about me?”

“I did. All the time.”

His sigh is febrile and his brother straightens up, wetting his lips. “What are you doing here exactly?”

“To… move back in,” Sirius says. “I want to be around. And we both know there is enough space in this enormous house. Even with your houseguests.”

“Roommates,” Evan corrects. “We have been living here for almost a year.”

Sirius frowns at him and gets a slight pissed look in response. “Aren’t you the Rosiers? Why-”

“Sirius,” Regulus cuts. “Why do you suddenly come back? You barely stayed for Alphard’s funeral so why the sudden change? What are you hiding?”

He sighs, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, and lets his bag slip down from his shoulder. “I’m hiding nothing. I didn’t come back before because I still had stuff to do,” he explains. “Now feels like the right time for me.”

Regulus shakes his head with a dry snort. “Right time? Well isn’t that great.”

“Reggie, I’m really serious about this. I’m not coming here on a whim,” he insists. “Just give me a chance.”

Sirius hopes that his long trip hasn’t made him look like a monster but he feels his tired muscles pulling at him to just drop. His mind has been heavy ever since Alphard died - not many people showed up to his funeral and that’s why he hesitated to even stay there because he couldn’t truly hide in a thin crowd. Regulus outweighs his fears and disgust and Sirius really wants to act like a better brother and be here for him. He has wondered how Regulus managed to still live here, in this house, but Alphard has been a great influence on him. Better than Sirius.

“Well, you haven’t even joked about your stupid name so this probably means that you grew up a bit, ” Regulus almost chuckles. “I can’t kick you out because the house also belongs to you, per Alphard’s will. Just clean after yourself.”

Sirius looks at Regulus a bit speechless and even takes a few steps ahead, offering a hug but his brother just shakes his head.

“Oh, that’s great! The more, the merrier,” Pandora cheers.

At the refusal, Sirius clears his throat and turns to look at Pandora and her twin. He vaguely remembers them from their old family meetings but he didn’t know that they were this close with Regulus. Still, at least Regulus wasn’t completely alone because it doesn’t seem that he changed much. Still a bit prickly and unapproachable.

“Well, thank you for the welcome.”

“Good. I’m going to take a shower,” Regulus announces.

“Do you want me to give you a tour, Sirius?” Pandora offers. “We haven’t touched your room, like Regulus asked, but we did clean and change some things around.”

Sirius hasn’t changed much. His hair got longer and he has a bit of a stumble which Regulus hopes he will shave before he starts looking like a sexual predator. Pandora leads him out of the dining room, probably to start to explain all the changes they have made from the entry. Regulus exhales through his nose to try to keep his emotions under control.

“Alright there?”

“Great,” he sarcastically replies. “Just the best day of my life. Isn’t it clear on my face?”

Evan snorts and leans back to probably catch the sight of his sister with Sirius before stepping closer. “Hey if you don’t want him here then maybe-”

“No. Sirius probably won’t stay for long anyway,” he says and tries to keep his tone as neutral as possible. “I don’t know what’s going through his head and frankly I wish I don’t have to deal with it.”

“Long day too,” Evan recognizes and nods before crossing his arms. “Just go rest, I will start on dinner while you relax a bit.”

“Thanks.”

Regulus has barely seen Sirius over the last 10 years and he only saw him passing at their uncle's funeral like a mirage, an after-thought made to torture him. It could have been different if Regulus had actually followed Sirius that fateful night where he suddenly piled all his belongings into a bag and announced to Regulus that he was going to run away. Sirius opened the idea to him but Regulus had been a coward; better stay with the pain and misery he is familiar with rather than the unknown. Sirius seems to have managed fine despite everything. Although the motorbike doesn’t truly scream ‘stable and ready to stay’.

His brother coming back to Grimmauld Place is the last thing he ever expected. Regulus has enough with his part-time job and he has all the company he wants with Evan and Pandora. Perhaps she will tell their story herself while she shows Sirius the rest of the house - as if he wasn’t born here - but Alphard really tried to live up the place when he inherited it after Orion died. Their uncle was the only person from their family still around, outside from their cousins but he doubts that they are any different from their parents. Alphard was the exception, somehow. It gave Regulus a little bit of hope.

A creak halts his steps. Regulus knows every nook of this house, which means every groan and shift in the wood is known by heart— except this one. He is about to take his well-deserved shower but this calls his curiosity. The more time he has away from his brother and the upcoming talks or emotions, the better.

He climbs up the rest of the stairs before stopping at the last ones. The door of the attic is slightly opened and it leaves him puzzled as he has never managed to budge the door. Alphard also told him that it’s not worth the effort to open it and that he has given up on that; even if Regulus has seen him coming down from it several times but his uncle always said that it was to check on the door.

“Evan?” Regulus calls from the top of the stairs.

“Yes?”

Regulus glances down to see him on the ground floor, leaning to frown up at him at the second highest floor of their house.

“Did you or Panda go into the attic?”

“Er, no,” he says. “I didn’t even know we had one.”

Is the door broken? There could be an animal in there that scratched at it, probably a bat or even a cat. Regulus has seen a white one lurking around their houses and meowing at their windows. He has given the cat a bit of food or water but the white animal always tries to slip in. In any other place he wouldn't have minded a pet but Grimmauld Place is huge and he is worried that the cat might have stuck itself somewhere no one goes to. 

“Do you want me to ask her?” Evan asks.

“No,” Regulus says. “No, it’s fine. Just curious.”

He could have easily walked away, to start on his warm shower, but instead he cautiously pushes the door completely open. It’s dusty and full of furniture that Regulus wouldn’t even know where to start to list them. The large round window also wears cobwebs but the moon hits it in the right spot to freshen it up, illuminating a path for Regulus to slalom through this mess. The night is clear with a full moon which is a rare occurrence for these two to happen together. Regulus feels like nothing can surprise him more than his brother wanting to reconnect for some obscure reason.

“Hello?” He whispers, hoping to hear some signs of the possible wild animals hiding here.

His steps lead him to a curious spot where his feet bob a bit on one large plank of wood. The moonlight falls right on it, just beside a wooden lectern. It takes a bit of strength but it’s clear that something is hidden under the floor. He manages to move the plank out of the way to find a large, really massive, book. Despite its hidden spot, it’s still covered by dust but it seems perfectly intact.

Regulus is surprised by the weight of it but he manages to pull it out. There aren’t many books that large and filled with so many pages. He cleans the cover page with a hand, expecting a title but he only sees a three-pointed symbol crossing a circle on a leather green front cover. He recognizes it from Alphard’s tattoo and some furniture in the house wears it too except that sometimes it was reversed. His uncle called it a Triquetra, a symbol of unity between three elements that might vary.

This could be Alphard’s book, maybe even grimoire by the mysterious look of it, though this would mean that his uncle had access to the attic and only wanted to scare Regulus off. He isn’t sure if he is lucky or not that he managed to get up there.

It doesn’t fully satisfy his curiosity. Regulus opens the book to the front page, ignoring the two ribbon markers, and faces a page that seems to have been hand-written and hand-drawn.

“The Book of Shadows?” Regulus reads. “That’s quite the invention, Alphard…”

His uncle was unemployed, comfortably with how large his inheritance was. He must have had enough time to come up with something like that. Regulus is probably not the one fit to enjoy this kind of joke though, unlike Pandora. There doesn’t seem to be a title although on the drawn scepter, crowned by a Triquetra, with a thin flag-like there is written Dominus Trinus.

“Latin?” Regulus scowls, remembering all the classes they had as if it’s not a dead language. “Dominus Trinus— Master Three? What kind of hobby is that?”

Frankly, and in the nicest way possible, it doesn’t surprise him that his uncle had this kind of fun. Pandora is also quite ecstatic about witchcraft and he is sure she would love to see that. The rest of the page is in English and his eyes quickly drift over the text before reading out loud. The words flutter over him as he stays comfortably crouched under the moonlight.

“Hear now the words of the witches, The secrets we hid in the night. The oldest of Gods are invoked here. The great work of Magic is sought.”

Regulus frowns a bit, amused.

“In this night and in this hour, I call upon the Ancient Power. Bring your powers to we sisters three. We want the power. Give us the power.”

The lecter shakes beside him but he quickly grabs it before it can properly fall. Another second flies where everything shakes, tingles before stopping. Regulus stares at the open page and hesitates turning it before scoffing with a laugh.

“Well, not a sister anymore,” he jokes, closing the book. “I hope you’re laughing from where you are, Alphard…”

“Hum, Reg’?” He startles at Evan’s voice before spotting him at the door of the attic, looking curiously around. “Damn, that’s a huge attic.”

“Yeah… I never went there until now,” he admits and puts the book down on the lectern. “Are you sure Panda never came here before?”

“I can ask her but I don’t think so,” Evan says. “Hey, did you feel that just now?”

“What?”

“Sort of a earth-quake…”

“Oh that. A truck probably drove by. This house is old after all.”

“Huh, well, Pandora would have loved this place so I doubt she wouldn’t have mentioned it to you or me.”

“You’re right. Better show that to her tomorrow, it’s already late,” Regulus decides as he stands up, brushing his knees with a hand. “Is everything alright? Is Sirius—”

“Still here. I just came up to ask you what you want for dinner,” he explains. “Your brother offered to pick up some take-outs for dinner. I don’t know if this qualifies as bribery but still, better take advantage of it. He is waiting on our orders.”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Well at least we get something out of this. What kind of take-outs?”

“We voted for indian. Pandora has already requested two menus.”

Evan does not have many memories about Sirius Black but he has heard enough to picture his character. Their families were somewhat close, at least enough to share the kind of prideful dinners rich and powerful families prepared. That’s where Evan met Regulus and Sirius the first time, playing with them despite their slight age difference. Every year, Sirius Black got more troublesome whilst Regulus stayed quiet and amenable. Evan and Pandora liked them, the only relief from these endless dinners, though Regulus lost his vitality once Sirius left their home.

Pandora has always been rebellious in a way, though not quite like Sirius who would tug on his formal clothes like they are chains and be as insolent as possible. Thankfully his twin only had peculiar interests rather than fighting authority which saved Pandora from any rough punishment from their father. Evan doesn’t know much outside of what their father asked them to do and learn compared to her.

It’s rare but it happened that Regulus talked about Sirius, but nothing like the rumors or hatred from the adults. It mostly came out when he was sentimental and clearly missing his brother; Evan has probably only seen these glimpses because his twin and him got rather close over the years, especially since they moved in to help Regulus after Alphard’s death.

Regulus has told him that Sirius can be aggressive and obnoxious but that’s his shield - the only way he seems to know how to act since their parents never listened, that’s why his big brother only got louder each time. They still never listened. Regulus affirms that Sirius is actually soft and sincere but rarely ever showed his side outside from when they were by themselves. Though Evan can remember how nice Sirius was when they played, up until an adult stepped too close or called for them. There was always a chilling shift there.

The fondest memory Regulus seems to have is when he started to realise that he is more a boy than a girl and how Sirius has never questioned it and took it in stride, even protecting Regulus from their parents when they caught on his attempts to dress up more like a boy and even taking the fall when Regulus cut his hair.

It’s obvious that Regulus still cares about Sirius even if he is upset that his brother left him alone. Evan can see why Sirius ran away as he recently left his father’s side with Pandora because of how controlling and unsafe it has always been. He finds it rather brave of Sirius to run away so young but he also can’t imagine how he would have felt if Pandora ran away without him. Evan had always been worried that Pandora might be sent off marrying someone just for some business deal but surprisingly his father never appeared to try to separate them even for money. It’s probably the same thing for the Blacks, a weird feeling that they are still centuries back where what only matters is money and power.

Not that Evan really complains about the money. Regulus has Alphard’s inheritance, enough for them three he said, since Evan isn’t sure what to do now that his father isn’t spitting orders at him. Pandora always seemed to know what she was meant to do and rarely, if ever, showed any hesitation. They have covered their tracks but the fear that their father might show up is still here.

Despite their surprised guest, the night goes well. Sirius goes a bit overboard with the take-outs but at least they will have food for perhaps a day or even two for all of them. Pandora is the perfect host and Evan tries to participate, whilst Regulus stays mostly quiet as he observes his brother telling what he did ever since he ran away.

He has scrambled around, worked illegally because no one wanted to hire a teenager with no paper and more than often stayed in abandoned spots before finally landing at a tattoo shop where he managed to become an apprentice. He has finished it only recently which is why he didn’t come back earlier, though he doesn’t say if he plans to open shop here, before showing some of his tattoos to Pandora at her request.

“This is amazing,” she compliments, curiously touching the tattoos on his fingers. “Have you ever made a Triquetra before?”

“A what?”

Regulus frowns at Pandora before glancing at Sirius. “That’s the three-pointed symbol, even Alphard used it.”

“Oh, that one,” he recalls. “I have one actually, on my hip. I didn’t know where it came from but it was always on my mind so I did one.”

“You want a tattoo now?” Evan asks her.

She smiles. “Why not?”

Regulus’ eyes stay a bit on Pandora before he slightly shakes his head slightly, focusing on his food. Evan puts that on Pandora’s usual scheming even if she smiles wildly at him and snuggles to his side, which often means that she is planning something that might concern his twin. He knows her by heart and while she has always enjoyed physical contact, even something as small as holding pinkies, this is a clear sign that her brain is working overtime.

They both go upstairs after storing the rest of the food in the fridge to give Regulus some personal time with his brother. Evan can’t help but watch them a bit. They are slightly uncomfortable, with Sirius on the couch playing with his rings watching Regulus who doesn’t meet his eyes but still stays put. It’s probably a good sign. As long as they don’t start screaming at each other during the night.

“Don’t worry Evan,” Pandora whispers just before she walks in her room. “They both love each other. A bit of time and talking will help them.”

“I’m not worrying,” he argues because it’s always a bit annoying that his twin can read him like that when he can’t.

She chuckles and kisses his cheek with a last hug. “Sleep well. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

In his bedroom, he needs to pull the curtains close because the full moon targets his room like a lighthouse. Thankfully the night is peaceful, he fell asleep before even hearing Sirius or Regulus coming up to their rooms. Their bedrooms mirror each other.

Evan is amongst the last ones to wake up and finds himself rather cold so he puts a small wool vest over his pajamas to walk downstairs for breakfast. Pandora is in the garden, gathering flowers and preparing it for the winter despite the rain. She likes to explain what she does and Evan indulges her but more than often it drifts to witchcraft and what not. Evan likes to lean toward logic and numbers so he is a bit troubled when he can’t properly find what to say to her with all that knowledge; even if she promises that she is just happy that he listens to her.

“Hey, slept well?” He asks when Regulus finishes his coffee.

It’s always better to wait until he has drunk his daily cup to expect a good morning instead of a curse.

“Fine,” Regulus replies and brushes his hair with his hand.

“What about Sirius?”

He shrugs, putting a bit of water in his empty cup before letting it sit in their sink. “We talked. He wants to walk me to my shift as if I’m a bloody child.”

Evan watches him prepare a sandwich before trying to hear if Sirius is still upstairs but it’s quiet. “Is he staying here then? Have you two— made up?”

“I don’t know. Sirius hasn’t changed so I won’t hold my breath,” he answers before facing him with a slight frown. “Do you mind?”

“What? No. I’m happy if you are. Sirius seems to be a good guy, from what I have seen and what you told me before.”

Regulus’ lips tick but are pursed before they can smile. “Yes…” He clears his throat as he picks a part of the takeouts to put it in his bag for work. “Anyway, I already have to deal with Snape at work so I need all my strength to not end up dead or in prison so I’m going to leave before Sirius can follow me.”

“Please torture Snape, better go with a bang than nothing.”

Regulus chuckles and pours hot tea in his thermos. He has been working part-time beside his studies to have a bit of money since he wants to avoid touching Alphard’ inheritance unless it’s really needed. He has this one annoying coworker - Severus Snape - that always leaves Regulus in a foul mood.

“I will keep that in mind. I don’t know what’s Sirius is going to do today beside wandering around but tell him to fuck off if he starts to be annoying.”

He quickly leaves the house with a goodbye to him and Pandora. Evan finishes his tea as he wonders what he could busy himself with today. Perhaps he can offer Sirius some help if he has more stuff of his to move here; he has only come with one big backpack but there could be more. Pandora looks rather busy and wouldn’t mind another pair of hands, especially considering the downpour still going but she seems happy with her umbrella as she works in the garden.

“Did Reggie leave already?”

Evan turns to see Sirius walking in the kitchen, grabbing the empty cup beside the coffee maker. His hair is disheveled and he isn’t wearing a shirt. Evan isn’t that surprised that he is shameless and he looks curiously at all the tattoos. It’s an intricate mix of norse runes and alchemy symbols but it works perfectly as a whole.

“You just missed him,” he replies.

Sirius sighs. “Well I should leave him alone for a while. Probably.”

Evan isn’t sure what he should say. “What do you usually eat for breakfast?”

He shrugs and sits beside him. “Whatever there is. I don’t mind take-outs.”

“I was planning to make myself some toasts and eggs.”

He smiles. “Would love that.”

Cooking is still a bit of an experiment for Evan but he enjoys it. It’s rather satisfying that he can make something good for his twin, Regulus and now Sirius who compliments on his plate with a smile. They quietly eat as Sirius wanders through the kitchen, plate in hand, munching on the food while observing the kitchen. He is probably comparing the kitchen with his childhood’s memories.

“Do you like witchcraft?”

Sirius turns to him with a surprised tilt of his head. “What?”

Evan gestures to his tattooed chest. “Panda is really into it so I know a bit from what she explained to me. You have a lot of runes and alchemy patterns so I figured you must be into that too.”

“Oh, well not really?” He replies and puts his last fork in his mouth, quickly swallowing. “I looked into their meanings before doing anything but I just really like them. They called me sometimes.”

“Called you?”

“Yeah. You never had that before?”

Evan considers it as his eyes fall on the symbol Pandora asked about yesterday. It’s a bit familiar and the more he looks at Sirius’ Triquetra on his hip, the more appealing it seems. Still, Evan is unemployed and doesn’t really have the money to indulge into that hobby. Better leave that to Pandora.

“I mean I have read books and had Halloweens but outside of that, not really.”

“Hum… I don’t know if I believe in everything but it’s nice to think that magic exists.”

Evan snorts as he heads toward the sink to start washing the dirty dishes. “Really? Magic?”

“Yeah, don’t you think it would be great if we were wizards, witches or something like that?”

“I don’t know, if it made life less complicated then maybe yes.”

Sirius laughs before stepping closer to the sink. “Do you need help? I can do it if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. There isn’t a lot to do anyway.”

“See? If we had magic then you wouldn’t have to wash the dishes,” he comments with a proud smirk.

“In that case that would be great,” he drawls out with an amused smile. “Do you have plans today? If you need help to move or tidy your room I’m free. Panda’ too but she is organizing the garden this morning since winter is starting.”

“Thanks but I only had my bag,” Sirius explains. “I didn’t have a lot. Since I planned to come back to see Reggie, maybe stay with him too, I never really— had a lot of things on me. To travel light, you know?”

“Oh I see.” Sirius sometimes sounds like he was homeless for a while and never truly found a safe place to live but Evan keeps his questions to himself. “Hum I have some clothes if you want that I don’t mind sharing with you if you need. Reg’ is a bit smaller than you, though you probably will manage to find something of your size, but I’m not sure he will be happy if we go through his closet.”

Sirius looks surprised and blinks a few times before slowly smiling, an expression more tender, surprising Evan.

“Thanks… That’s nice,” he articulates and quickly clears his throat, a bit embarrassed. “I should have enough but thank you for the offer. I actually saved a bit of money so I might try some thrift shops today and dig through the house to see if there is still some of my old stuff that Orion didn’t throw away.”

“Maybe in the attic.”

“Attic? We have an attic?” Sirius asks, surprised.

“Hum yes? Regulus went there last night but maybe he didn’t lock it. I didn’t know about it either.”

“Huh… I will check it out. Thanks for the tip.”

Evan doesn’t try more small talk even if he wants to hear about him. Today he could try to clean the attic but he is worried about overstepping since Regulus hasn’t talked about what he wants to do with it. It’s also Pandora’s day off from the animal centre so he could go out with her if she wants to. He is curious about Sirius though but he figures that if he gets to know Sirius, maybe get along with him, then it might be easier for Regulus too. The whole Black family has always sounded like a mess to his ears. Regulus is not a complete mess, just human, so he hopes it’s the same for his brother. Hopefully Sirius is really trying to salvage what he can with him rather than messing around.

“I will see you later,” Sirius says, dropping by the kitchen, dressed up for the day with his black leather jacket.

Evan frowns. “Wait, do you have the key?”

“Yup, still remember where it was usually hidden. No worries, I will make a spare one today and put this one back.”

“Oh, alright,” he says and supposes that he cleared that with Regulus.

It’s not like Sirius tried to sneak in last night, he knocked on the front door. Plus Regulus is clearly happy even if he tries to hide it - Evan can spot the signs even if he has only complained about Sirius; if Regulus was really angry he would harass his brother like a clingy parasite and torment him with innocent looks. 

Something catches his attention on the back of his Sirius’ leather jacket. Evan shakes the water his hands as he quickly walks to him.

 “Sirius, wait.”

“What?” He stops at the threshold of the kitchen, turning around with his heavy boots.

Evan frowns and reaches out for the small lint. “You have some du-”

His stomach churns when he touches his jacket. Evan sees Sirius thrown against a wall with a hand around his throat. Whoever is choking him furiously is no one he recognizes but Sirius fights back the best he can before falling slack.

“Evan?”

He gasps, startling when he sees Sirius frowning worryingly at him in front of him. He takes a quick step back.

“W-what?”

They are back in the kitchen. No one’s hand is around Sirius’ throat and he looks perfectly alive. Whatever wall was slammed into him isn’t near them— it was darker.

“Are you… alright?” Sirius asks, glancing down at Evan’s fingers with the lint he picked up from his jacket. “You sort of went off for a second there.”

Evan swallows as he tries to understand what he just saw. It feels like he got slapped with a short movie in his face. “I what?”

“Did you get shocked?” He wonders, touching the sleeve of his jacket with a curious look. “It looked like it. Your face is all scrunched up.”

“Hum, maybe,” Evan blurts out. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry.”

Sirius isn’t convinced and his hands hover around him with a frown. “Perhaps you should sit down– you really look shaken up.”

“No, no, I’m fine.”

“Okay…”

Evan forces a smile. “I’m good. Maybe I just need to eat a bit of sugar or something,” he quickly explains and turns to the teapot, checking if he needs to make more.

That was really weird. It felt a bit too real but Evan tries to convince himself that he really just needs a cup of tea to wake up. Maybe he overslept and that’s why his brain is a bit messy.

What was even that scenario? Sirius was choked, probably to death, by a man he has never seen - he can still see the profile of that person as clear as the pot he puts on to boil fresh water. Perhaps he has seen this man before but forgot. He has read somewhere that all the faces you see in dreams are one you have seen once even if you don’t notice it.

“Evan?”

He shouldn’t have been surprised but his heart still jumps like a jack-in-the-box. Sirius smiles carefully at him when he turns to meet his eyes.

“Yes?”

“I need to ask— are you and Reggie..?”

Evan’s eyes widen and shakes his head. “What? No. No!”

“I just had to ask.”

“Reg’ is like a brother to me. And to Panda, really,” he promises. “Just brothers.”

“Alright, alright,” Sirius chuckles. “I’m just happy that Reggie found some people to trust here. That’s why I was curious about you and your twin. He told me the same, that you’re family at this point and that you both needed a place to stay… But I figured that he also wouldn’t share about his private life if he ever had one.”

Evan laughs a bit. “Well, that’s true.”

He is still reeling from that short weird experiment even after Sirius left. The tea calms his nerves but he still can’t come up with a proper explanation about what happened. This hit him like a flash, a punch to the guts, and he doubts that he actually got somewhat shocked from such a contact. Plus Sirius would have felt it first if his jacket had static electricity since he put it on himself. There is also no shock that could make Evan imagine this whole– scene. Maybe he dreamt it during his sleep and only remembered now.

Pandora notices his mood but he lies, telling her he just got a headache. She burns a candle for him to relax. He can’t focus on something else though but doesn’t want to bother her more. Pandora goes upstairs to order everything that she has gathered from the garden and he considers helping even if it means just drying petals, plants or crushing them. A knock on the front door cuts his momentum and Evan leaves the couch to open it, figuring that a distraction is always welcomed.

“Hello there,” their post-woman greets him with a smile. “It’s a downpour today, uh?”

“It is.” Evan chuckles. “Hope you don’t have too much work Nancy. Only ducks would be happy to work with that weather.”

“Hah, don’t worry about me,” she says. “I’m more than used to it.”

Nancy is perfectly covered with her cap and hood but still, she must have been out under the rain and the cold for at least an hour at this point. Her cheeks are a bit flushed already.

“Do you want a warm drink?” He offers.

“That’s kind of you but I have my thermos so I’m all set to survive this morning,” she chuckles with red cheeks. “Here is your newspaper and there is also this package for you.”

“Oh. That’s new,” he says when he spots the package in one arm as she takes out the newspaper from her coat to place it on top of it.

Regulus or Pandora never mentioned that they are expecting something. Evan takes the package from her hands, brushing one with his, and sucks in a gasp when he feels the same slap as before.

Nancy walks away from him, heading toward the street with a last look at Evan as if to say something before her foot slips on one of the steps. She falls hard, grimacing and shouting in pain.

“Well, gotta go,” Nancy says, looking flustered by how she glances down to her feet, already walking down the first step before Evan even digested what he saw.

Except that just like what blinded him— she shifts on her feet to look at him as she continues to walk down. She is about to speak when her foot lands on the step Evan saw her fall on. He jumps before he realises, the package falls heavily on the floor, and he manages just in time to catch her by her waist. She yelps a bit, surprised, and flushes red before scrambling on her feet.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes!” She exclaims, staring at the stairs as she almost runs off. “Sorry and thank you!”

Evan frowns at her and offers a small wave when she quickly looks back but she only rushes away before realising that she missed her car, running back to it. He looks down at the step where he saw her fall— almost since Evan saved her from that.

“What the hell was that?”

This has felt exactly like what he saw for Sirius and this time it was clearly going to happen if Evan hadn’t moved. Did he see in the future for a second there? Or did he just manage to guess that this step was dangerous for Nancy– no way that’s possible. His hand brushed hers and he was hit by the same sudden force and ringing in his ears, just like when he touched Sirius’ jacket.

“Evan? Is everything alright?”

He turns to see Pandora at the entry of Grimmauld Place, only realising now that he was standing under the rain, before quickly walking back inside.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Just— the headache.”

She chuckles. “Did you think the rain would help with that?”

Evan licks his lips and picks up the package and the newspaper before closing the door. “Maybe.”

Sirius has the worst luck ever. There aren’t many people who will tell you that they went to a thrift shop to find one of their exes, who you haven’t talked to over a whole year, when they have just moved to the capital. Sirius has actually hoped to surprise Marlene, finding her by chance in London since she moved here two years ago, but of course he can’t end up meeting his best friend but instead his ex.

Everything went well before that. He wandered through London, to the spots he was the most familiar with to check what had changed or what might be new and catch his attention. He got lost in his memories and soon lunch came but he opted to look at another thrift shop first; in case he needs to have a comfort meal if he finds nothing. Of course now he won’t get any of that since his ex showed up out of nowhere.

“You look,” Gideon smiles nervously, “you look great Sirius.”

He frowns at him, tapping a finger on his crossed arms. “What are you doing here? I’m perfectly aware that your band isn’t playing any time soon in London.”

“I heard from your boss that you decided to move here.”

“Here are your teas,” the waitress blurts out and puts their cups on the table with a nervous glance at Gideon.

“Thank you.”

He smiles pleasantly at her and Sirius opts to roll his eyes not too hard. Of course one of the members of the Weird Sisters would be recognized in London. Thankfully she doesn’t ask for an autograph or a picture, maybe because Sirius is in a bad mood.

“I sure hope you didn’t follow me here Gideon,” he warns, taking his cup in hand. “We have broken up over a year now.”

“That’s because you said you wanted to focus on your apprenticeship,” he argues.

“And the fact that I didn’t call didn’t ring a bell?” He scoffs back.

Gideon tilts his head with an amused smile. “Come on Sirius. I just want to talk, alright? Plus we had something great going on, didn’t we? I figured that we could continue once you’re free and less stressed about getting a job. Not that you need one.”

It’s true that it was what Sirius had planned. Gideon has always been a great boyfriend even with his busy schedule with the band but— Sirius also completely forgot about him. It’s not even that he was hard-working on becoming a tattoo artist but he also didn’t find the desire to call him again. He has good memories of him but nothing made him think of contacting him ever again.

“Well you could have wrote me a letter instead of being a stalker.”

“Stalker? Sirius, you're overreacting.”

He squints at him. “How did you even know in which shop I would be? Did you also follow me home?”

“I do have your address but I was also shopping for myself, if you haven’t noticed my bag.”

Sirius squints at the bag laying at his feet, half-considering stealing it just for the sake of it since he didn’t want to be followed by Gideon through the shop. At least he gets a free drink from that.

His phone rings. It’s only a text but he decides to act like it’s the most important thing at the moment— praying that it gives him an escape from this messy break-up that is about to happen. It’s not even like he promised Gideon that they would ever go back together.

From 020 XXXX XXXX:

    Hey Sirius, its Evan

    Reg gave me your phone number

Sorry I didnt think of asking you first but I need to call you if you are free at some point?

“I have to take that.”

Gideon frowns. “Is it your brother? Everything alright?”

“Yes,” he retorts. “Just need to call him very quick.”

He smiles, ever so pleased, but Sirius recognizes it as the one he wears around his fan. It would have worked on him before— after all that’s why Sirius sneaked in the backstage to snog him, but he has moved on. Sirius decides to return it with a sharper touch, a fair warning that they aren’t going to play boyfriends anymore.

Evan immediately picks up the phone. “Sirius?”

“Yeah. Is everything alright?”

“You’re free right now?”

Sirius glances at Gideon, still watching him, even when the waitress shyly approaches him now that he is free.

“As a bird.”

Evan sighs out. “Okay, hum… This might sound crazy but just answer me if you can, alright?”

“What? What’s going on?” He frowns.

“Do you know a man with long hair? Like shoulder-length?”

Sirius keeps his frown but tries to not let anything else appear when he glances at Gideon and his hair. He can think of several people if he isn’t honest but his ex-boyfriend is right in front of him.

“Yes..?”

“Is it light? Like not too much. I’m not sure,” Evan mutters. “But it’s a bit curly. A small beard too.”

Sirius leans back in his chair and shifts the phone to whisper. “And a moustache?”

“Yes? Yes!”

“I think I know who you are talking about.”

“Really?” Evan bursts out. “Are you serious?”

“I am always Sirius.”

His joke must have landed because he gets no immediate reply.

“I’m trying to be s— I’m just surprised.”

“What are you on about though?” Sirius asks with a quick look around just in case someone else has followed him.

“I thought I was crazy! Do you have a picture or a name?”

“Er, yes but now I’m a bit… Look, what is that about?”

Evan sighs. “If I told you, you might think I’m insane.”

“About what?”

“Just— if you know them try to avoid them, alright?”

Sirius purses his lips and notices Gideon observing him. He shifts to hide his phone. “Is everything alright?”

“Hopefully yeah,” Evan says, still as cryptic and with his voice going up and down with nerves. “Also you’ve got a package.”

“I got what?”

“A package arrived from the mail. It’s a bit heavy and it has your name on it.”

Sirius takes a deep breath but he openly glares at Gideon who slowly frowns in confusion. “From who?”

“Er, it says— let me check.”

“Sirius?” Gideon asks. “Everything’s fine?”

“Me? I’m chipper but you on the other hand I’m trying to decide.”

“What?”

“-Crumb!” Pandora shouts over the phone. “It says Gideon Crumb! Sirius, why didn’t you tell me that you are friends with one of the Weird Sisters’ members?”

“That’s him!” Evan exclaims just as Sirius hangs up.

“Gideon,” he growls.

“What? What happened S-”

“Oh don’t try to play the nice guy now!” Sirius hisses, standing up. “Did you bloody lurk around my house, you psycho?!”

The whole cafe falls quiet and the waitress that came over gasps with wide eyes on them. Gideon quickly takes a look around before swallowing and facing Sirius with a calm face.

“Sirius… I don’t know what you’re talking about but I didn’t go anywhere near your old place. I only sent a pack-”

“You sent a package? Whatever for?” He growls, standing up.

“Sirius, please, sit down.”

“No I’m not. Because you’re supposed to be at the other side of the country, where I left, and yet somehow you followed me all the way here! Without asking me first!”

“You’re making a scene-”

“You bet I am when I got a bloody stalker!”

Gideon stands up with a glare. “Stop calling me that! I only wanted to offer you something because you left before I could congratulate-”

“We broke up a year ago! How come you didn’t move on?!”

“You asked me to wait for you!”

Sirius scoffs with a shake of the head. “I never did. I told you I want to focus on getting a job before anything else and that I couldn’t follow you to all your concerts anymore.”

“I didn’t mind that!”

“And then I realised that maybe I didn’t want to get back with you,” Sirius says, ignoring him. “The fact that I didn’t reply to any of your texts or calls over a year didn’t make that clear to you?”

“That’s why I came here,” Gideon points out. “To talk!”

“I don’t want to talk with you,” he argues and glances at his unfinished tea before glaring at him. “Don’t even try to come near me again.”

“What? Sir-”

Gideon is a bit taller than Sirius so he easily leans over the table to grab his arm, which he immediately fights off with a sharp jerk. Sirius puts nowhere to strength to send Gideon flying into the table behind him.

The whole cafe roars in surprise and the waitress rushes to Gideon’s side as the others try to salvage the plate and cups that fell when he landed on the table. His ex is a bit shaken up but probably not as much as Sirius who is pretty sure that he saw Gideon's feet off the ground. He hasn’t even touched him but it’s apparently enough for every eye to turn to him like he is some monster.

Sirius decides that he really has the shittiest luck ever as he quickly runs off the scene. Only he could have a clingy ex, possible stalker because otherwise how could Evan even know what he looks like, and get banned from a cafe on his first day back in London and is now running under the rain like a maniac. If Gideon hadn’t tried to stop him leaving then maybe he wouldn’t have been pushed into this table! Not that Sirius even tried to really humiliate him or anything. He only wanted Gideon away.

Regulus figures that he is hallucinating. Although there aren’t many people rushing through the street without even an umbrella when it’s pouring cats and dogs. There are less people walking around with only a leather jacket on their back and long black hair though. Thankfully Sirius hasn’t stopped by the small bakery Regulus is working at, but it was certainly him rushing like a bullet.

Evan hopefully didn’t ask him for Sirius’ number just to send his brother to pester him at work. Pandora could have come up with that idea and stole his phone for that.

To Evan:

I think I just saw my brother running past my shop You better have not told him about where I work

From Evan:

What? Really?? I swear I didn’t How did he look? Fine?

To Evan:

What do you mean I dont know he was running Evan?

Regulus frowns at his phone when he doesn’t get a reply for a few minutes. Evan is the one who asked out of nowhere for Sirius’ number without specifying what for; it better not be some kind of crush on his brother because Regulus will poison everyone then himself just for that thought. But he figures that it is only because Sirius moved in and they probably need to chat about the house or something like that. Still, it’s starting to worry him considering Evan’s texts.

“Your phone, Regulus.”

His jaw tightens but Regulus exhales the curse climbing up his throat as he glances at Snape glowering at his side.

“There is no customer,” he retorts.

“This doesn’t mean you can be rude.”

Regulus seethes quietly and turns back to the few tables busy in their small bakery. It’s a bit busy, especially with the amount of rain drowning London since this morning, but everyone is served and happy so Snape is just being a pain in the ass.

Evan has commented on how it doesn’t make sense that someone like Snape is working here when he is everything but sweet in a bakery shop; even Pandora doesn’t like him and she can feel sad about the trash forgotten by people: ‘we hate them when they are merely the victims of people lack of love’. Sirius would probably try to punch him the moment Snape opens his mouth and Regulus decides to store that idea for later.

It’s obvious that Snape has a problem with him, though the reason is a mystery, but Regulus wouldn’t be surprised that someone like Snape has a problem with his ‘gender’. Morons, terfs, racists and pigs - of course not the animal - are synonyms for each other after all.

One of their regulars is missing and Regulus is slightly disappointed that he doesn’t show up with the new groups of people. Remus seems to have come to this bakery before Regulus even started working here. He is always asking for a hot chocolate and an espresso on the side plus whatever catches his eyes from the daily fresh pastries or salty snacks. Regulus and him have started a sort of system whenever Snape starts to act up, even though he isn’t Regulus’ superior or anything else, with glances and ticks on their lips. Regulus only knows that Remus lives not far and is a teacher which explains the tons of papers he brings if it’s not his usual books. Usually the weather doesn’t bother him but he supposes that today the rain is too much to venture outside.

Dorcas comes out of the kitchen with a long trail full of small cakes ready to be bought for the afternoon. Regulus helps her as she glares at the trail.

“Snape can’t even bother to help,” she hisses.

“This isn’t new.”

Frankly Snape should have been fired a long time ago. He barely even bakes or has any skills to serve and help customers, at least the decorations around the shop are pretty to look at compared to Snape. Still, somehow he is still sticking around to torment them.

“We better get ready for more people with this weather,” Dorcas says with a squint at the large windows of the shop. “You’re lucky you’re done in a few.”

“And Snape finishes at the same time as me so you will be free from him,” Regulus reminds.

A few people come to the counter to order. Regulus is still worried about his brother and how weird Evan was. He could at least answer to him but thankfully work helps him to focus on something else.

“By the way,” Dorcas says when all clients are satisfied and Snape is still in the back. “We didn’t have the time to talk because of our local pest but what was that about your brother? I didn’t even know you had one.”

Regulus almost wants to say that he also didn’t know considering that Sirius disappeared without a look back. He could have followed him, that’s true. Still, he isn’t sure yet on how to digest the presence of Sirius around.

“Yes… He left a long time ago and he suddenly decided to come back,” he explains. “I’m the first one surprised to be honest.”

“Is it a good or a bad thing?”

Regulus shrugs with a glance at her. “I’m not sure yet. Hopefully it’s good.”

He has missed Sirius over the years. When their mother died and then their father, Regulus had expected that his brother would come back upon the news; there would be no one else to hurt them after all. Sirius never came back though, even at Alphard’s funeral he barely stayed. Regulus had been probably lucky that he spotted him before he disappeared.

A mother and her little boy come in to pick a cake. Regulus handles it while Dorcas cleans some of the tables. Her son is very excited, chattering, almost putting his hand on the glass before his mother quickly stops him and explains to not do it. They pick a cake for her wife’s birthday, one with hues of blues, and Regulus offers to write down her name on it and add a little bit of decorations.

“Mum, mum, look how pretty it is!” Her son cheers, bouncing on his feet as Regulus puts it in a box after showing his work. “Yum!”

His mother chuckles and pets his hair with a smile at Regulus. “Thank you very much. I didn’t think of ordering until now.”

“We always have cakes around for this kind of last-minute emergency,” he assures with a smile because he can’t help but feel proud that they picked his cake. “Hope you will enjoy it.”

“I will!”

“Shush, don’t shout here,” she cautions. “You can carry it home if you promise to be careful.”

“I will, I will,” her son promises with an avid look at the box.

Regulus snorts quietly before putting it in a bag because of the rain and offering it to him. “Keep it flat, alright? Don’t squish it.”

“Yes, sir,” he chirps with a determined look as he slides his hands under the box.

Regulus hears someone chuckling and his eyes can’t help but widen at the literal— Adonis waiting behind the little family; who smiles when he sees that Regulus noticed him, eyes grinning behind his round glasses. There is no way Regulus can handle the sight of a fit, warm-toned lad, when he is reaching the end of his shift with a pestering Snape and with the sudden shock of his brother’s return.

“Car-”

The boy gasps, tripping on his untied shoelaces when he tries to walk away. Regulus immediately focuses back on him as the cake slips out of his grasp. He reaches out, managing to grab it with a relieved sigh. Thankfully, Regulus has stayed near the lower table so he could easily lean on it to have the extra-length.

“Are you…”

He stares at the unnerving silence. The boy is still falling but frozen in the movement. Regulus slowly realises that no one else is breathing beside him.

His eyes wander to all the people, stopping mid-movement as they are about to eat or drink. Dorcas stays still at a table, with a hand reaching for an empty cup but never touching it, but her head is turned toward the counter as she must have seen the catastrophe coming. Regulus slowly exhales through his nose. The rain is still pattering on the windows, not disturbed, by what’s going on.

“Hello?” Regulus articulates.

Even the Adonis is frozen, eyes on Regulus, and the clock has stopped clicking. This could be an elaborate prank but— the boy is falling but frozen in mid-air. No one could ever do that and his mother’s face is petrified with a sudden panic and her hand reaching out empty. Regulus wets his lips and takes another look around. The bag with the cake is in his hands, moving if he shifts it, which would mean that everything beside him suddenly stopped. It’s insane, complete nonsense, but Regulus is scared of doing the wrong thing. 

A car drives by, outside. The bag shifts to only one of his hands before he slowly leans toward the frozen boy. Whose mouth is parted in surprise and his eyes are heavy with surprise but he doesn’t blink or breath. Regulus grabs him by his hood stuck in the hair and the boy restarts falling.

“-eful!”

“Ah!” The boy squeaks, weighing down in Regulus’ hand who holds him from falling on his arse.

His mother catches him by his arms before realising that Regulus grabbed him first. She looks up in surprise as Dorcas quickly runs to their side upon seeing what happened.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes,” the mother says, still in shock but probably nowhere near the one Regulus is still trying to understand. “You are incredibly fast. Thank you.”

“You saved the cake!” Her son cheers before glancing down at his mother's gaze.

Regulus lets go of him since he is back on his feet and glances at the cake before looking at them. “Er, yes. Good reflexes.”

Dorcas observes him before smiling at the family. “Just a small scare.”

“I will carry that,” the mother quickly says, taking the bag off his hands once she checks on her son. “Better be safe than sorry.”

“But mu-”

“I told you to tie your shoes,” she argues with a pointed look at his pout. “Next time you will know better. Now thank them and say goodbye.”

“Thank you mister,” he mumbles out with a bitter look at the cake his mother keeps out of reach. “Goodbye.”

Regulus forces a smile as they walk out. Dorcas frowns at him and quickly steps around to get behind the counter, putting down the dirty dishes she had fetched.

“Reg’? You alright?” She whispers.

He shakes his head before blinking. “I honestly don’t know.”

She looks at him up and down before glancing at the people in the bakery, living and moving like nothing happened.

“You’re done in ten minutes, just go. I can deal with that. You look like you might faint.”

Regulus wets his lips before nodding. “Thanks.”

He stays quiet as he rushes to the locker room to change himself as fast as he can. He can’t help but replay what happened in his head— this couldn’t be a prank. Except that there are also not many options outside of that.

“Leaving already?” Snape asks when Regulus leaves the locker room for the exit in the back.

Regulus ignores him and quickly walks under the rain. Did time actually stop? Why was he the only one moving? Just like the mother, he reached out to catch what he could. But she was as frozen as everyone else.

The rain gets furious but he barely feels it as he hurries back home. It’s not far but his mind is running faster than he can, barely recognizing the turns as his own voice rings in his head: I call upon the Ancient Power.

Regulus pinches himself as if the cold and a raindrop falling right into his eye aren’t enough to make him groan in pain. He is perfectly awake and aware of what’s around him. What happened in the bakery— this looked like magic, which shouldn’t exist and Regulus has grown out of that phase a long time ago. Except that time is often an old, ancient, power isn’t it? That would fit what the book said. But this can’t be real.

Regulus shakes his head and takes out his phone to check his texts. There isn’t anything from Sirius or Evan so he opts to try to call them. His phone coughs like a dying machine into his ear and he quickly needs to take it away from his face because of the buzzing. It doesn’t look dead though as he can still go to his different screens and texts,but there is no connection. Regulus harshly huffs through his nose in frustration.

Grimmauld Place is in his view soon enough, just as a thunderbolt strikes startling him. He quickly walks inside, shutting the door behind him. The light is weak and he frowns at it but his focus is quickly on the cold and the weird smell.

“Evan? Panda? Sirius?”

Pandora walks out from the kitchen, draped with a heavy sweater, and a frown that clears up when she spots him.

“Reggie!” Her cheer quietens abruptly. “Hum… This is maybe a bad time.”

“Bad time? Why?” He asks. “Did you turn off the heat? And are you cooking again? You buy the new pots this time.”

“Er, well. It's not me.” She glances around the house. “We don’t know. It stopped by itself and even the electricity jumped on and off.”

“Is it Reg’?”

“Yes!” She replies to Evan who quickly walks in the dining room to see Regulus taking his shoes off in the foyer.

“Are you alone?”

Regulus frowns and puts his coat on the rack. Evan doesn’t look quite comfortable and it’s not because of the cold. Something is clearly going on and he is hit with another wave of anxiety as he sees again the whole scene of the frozen bakery.

“Yes? Why?”

The white cat in his arms is perfectly white and its grey, silver eyes slowly blink at Regulus; who recognizes it as the one who tried to sneak in many times, meowing and pawing at doors and windows. It looks quite regal and soft but Evan’s face doesn’t seem to take that in account because his face is twisted with a grimace.

“You… You will think that I’m insane.”

“No, you’re not,” Pandora says, stepping closer to her twin.

“What is going on? Don’t tell me that we are adopting this cat now.”

“Wait, that’s one thing,” Evan says as he comes closer to him. “It has a collar.”

“I could have guessed that it belongs to someone already,” Regulus drawls out. “No cat can stay this white in the streets of London.”

The cat meows back and stretches her neck as Pandora reaches for its dark green collar and the medallion on it.

“Look,” she insists. “It’s a Triquetra.”

It is one. This doesn’t help Regulus though— he has this itching in the back of his brain that screams Ancient Power and Give us the power as he recalls the feel of the Book of Shadows in his hands. Logically, this cat could have belonged to Alphard and this would explain why it kept sticking to Grimmauld Place or the choice of the medallion. Except that his uncle would have told him about that cat or at least mentioned to Regulus that he needs to take care of a pet when Alphard had gotten sick.

“And?”

“Something really weird is going on,” Evan insists as he lets the cat jump down. “But there are too many coincidences.”

“Coincidences?” Regulus asks curiously just as the cat rubs itself against his legs and scampers off in the living room. “Is it about Sirius? Or the house apparently falling apart?”

“Yes, maybe. I’m not sure.” Evan groans slightly when he gets a frown and rubs his eyes before he looks up. “Something happened to me. Really weird— which I wouldn’t have considered real if Pandora isn’t convinced that it’s magic.”

“Did you freeze people?”

Pandora gasps at him just as Evan watches him with a stunned face.

“What?”

“Did you stop time?” She asks with wide eyes.

“Time?! What do you mean time?!”

Regulus clears his throat. “Didn’t— that’s not what happened to you?”

“What the hell?” Evan articulates. “I saw into the future or something like that. Nothing as cool as bloody stopping time! How did you do that?!”

“I— I was working and this child almost dropped a cake,” he explains with his voice weakening. “Just everything stopped, people, Dorcas, the clock and the child mid-falling. Literally stuck in the air while everything outside the bakery and I still moved.”

“This is happening,” Pandora whispers with wide eyes.

“You saw into the future?” Regulus realises with wide eyes. “What do— is that why you asked for Sirius’ number?! What’s going on?”

“I saw him getting choked! This morning!”

“Choked?!” He shouts. “What do you mean choked! Why didn’t you tell me this first!”

“Because I didn’t know if it was real or not!” Evan argues with his hands flying around in confusion before he pushes his braided hair back. “Look, I spoke with Nancy when she dropped off the mail and I saw her slipping on one of the steps. I think that’s because I touched her hand. I thought I was going crazy but then it really happened in front of me so I stopped her from getting hurt.”

“You have the premonitions!” Pandora suddenly speaks out, far more loudly than she ever did, before she turns and grabs like a wild tornado Regulus, “and you, you got the freezing power!”

“The what?!”

“This means Sirius has the last one!”

“Panda, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Did Sirius do that to us?” Regulus asks. “Where the hell is he?”

Pandora’s eyes are huge, sparkling in excitement, as she looks at them like they are precious. “I never thought I would be here for that!”

“For what?”

“For the Charmed Ones!” She cheers, bouncing on her toes. “The power of three! All the witches know about it.”

Evan splutters. “The what now?”

Regulus stares at her. “Power of three..?”

“Panda, are you serious? I can get behind some crazy things but I’m not sure I can follow you there.”

“Yes! I am!”

“Wait,” Regulus blurts out. “Are you talking about what I found in this grimoire? It talked about the power of three.”

“A grimoire?!”

“You have one?” Pandora blurts out. “Where is it?”

“You’re not serious,” Evan articulates. “A grimoire? Witches?”

“It all exists!” She insists. “You felt it yourself, didn’t you? You saw into the future! And Reg’— you froze the bakery, right? There is no other explanation than magic.”

“Wait a second-”

“It all coincides perfectly! You said it yourself Evan,” she exclaims, “it’s too many coincidences. The house, the cat, what happened to the both of you– Sirius came back yesterday, this must have triggered the magic!”

“The attic opened up,” Regulus realises. “It never did before until now…”

“And you found a grimoire there?” Evan asks with a dubious frown. “Witchcraft?”

“You saw it yourself, Evan,” Pandora argues. “You got visions!”

“I read the first page,” Regulus recalls. “There was a bloody spell or something! I thought it was a joke.”

“Wait, I still don’t get it,” Evan says as he turns to Pandora. “Panda, I know you believe in these things but why aren’t you the one with powers then?”

She shrugs but her smile doesn’t diminish. “I don’t know. What I heard is that the Power of Three, to be Charmed Ones, is a prophecy about three sisters from the most powerful bloodline of witches.”

“Sisters? We’re men!”

Regulus frowns at Evan. “And we aren’t related by blood. Panda, are you sure-”

“I am!” She promises with a fierce look. “Listen, you have all the powers they are rumoured to have! One has premonitions, the strongest defensive magic, another can freeze and the other can move things with their minds!”

“Why the hell didn’t I get the moving thing?”

Regulus shakes his head. “I’m sorry I just can’t believe it-”

“Believe in yourself,” Pandora says and takes his hand. “You went into the attic for the first time yesterday, right? Where you found the grimoire, just when Sirius came back! Why would you read the incantation if you weren’t called to it?”

Evan stares at them in disbelief but Regulus can, just like him, only slowly swallows all of this information. The attic never ever opened up until now. Regulus could have easily closed the door last night. He had enough on his plate with Sirius’ return and his decision to stay with him. Except that Pandora is right. Regulus has been compelled to visit the attic and find that one plank of wood hiding the grimoire away.

“How do you know all of that?” He whispers. “You never spoke about that before, the Charmed Ones and all.”

Pandora shakes her head with an excited squealing. “Because I thought it was a legend unlike fairies or werewolves! Everyone believes in the Charmed Ones but they apparently have never existed yet or at least that’s what is said. I would have never thought that this would be you three!”

“Woah woah, wait a second,” Evan exclaims. “Fairies?! Werewolves?! Panda, are you seriously a witch?!”

She scoffs at him. “Of course I am. Though I don’t have powers like you or maybe I will get one now! If you have witch blood then so do I!”

“I’m going to faint.”

Regulus glances at him. “Wait— didn’t you say that Sirius gets choked?! When?!”

“I don’t know!”

“Well bloody know!”

Pandora shushes them. “Alright, take a deep breath. Premonitions aren’t always happening right away.”

“What about the postwoman?!” Regulus shrieks. “Didn’t that happen just after you saw it?”

Evan croaks mutedly with a small grimace. “I-”

“When did you see it?”

He sighs. “This morning when Sirius left. I touched his jacket and bam.”

“This morning?!” He shouts in horror and quickly steps back as he takes out his phone. “He isn’t answering me and— bloody hell it’s already mid-afternoon!”

“Sirius knows who is the guy I saw in that– thing in my head,” Evan points out. “That’s why I asked for his number!”

“Did you tell Sirius that he would get choked?”

“Are you mad? I didn’t think any of that was serious but better be safe than sorry,” he admits. “But Sirius knew him and this man even sent Sirius a package!”

“A what now?” He asks, quickly texting Sirius.

Pandora nods. “We opened it, just to be safe, but it’s only clothes - new and when I looked the name up well it’s actually a member of the Weird Sisters!”

“The band?”

“Yeah, Gideon Crumb. That’s him who I saw  and I checked with pictures.”

“This doesn’t answer my question if he already choked Sirius or not!” Regulus barks out and tries to call Sirius. “He could have been running away from him when I saw him! And my phone just doesn’t work!”

“But did you see someone after him?”

“I don’t think so…” Regulus worries his lips as the call cuts by itself. “Why is this phone not working?!”

“I think it’s because the whole house is wonky. Ours stopped working too.”

Evan glances at Pandora. “What? Is that your power?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Evan can’t you see if Sirius is alive or something?” Regulus asks. “Do your magic— or whatever!”

“I have no idea,” he admits with a sorry look. “I don’t even know how to make it happen.”

“I think we would know about Sirius in danger,” Pandora says. “Plus he has his power too so he must be able to protect himself. Evan also warned him about Gideon which means that perhaps it hasn’t happened because of that!”

“This is too many ifs,” Regulus shouts in frustration and grabs his coat. “I’m going to look for him!”

“Reg-”

“If this twat just came back to die the next day and forces me to do his bloody funeral then I will kill him myself!” The door stays as still as a fortification even when he tugs it with all his wrath. He turns around to look at Pandora and Evan. “What is wrong with it?!”

“Weird things have been happening all day,” Evan says with a nervous glance around. “Maybe it’s because of what you read?”

“How could I know that this grimoire was real?!”

“We should go check it,” Pandora cuts with a determined nod. “There must be spells and potions to help us and Sirius. Reg’, I’m sure that Sirius is fine.”

“Yeah and he has this big power of moving things around, doesn’t he? If we have– two of them and Panda doesn’t then Sirius is the last option,” Evan points. “That sounds more useful than mine.”

Regulus’ jaw tenses before letting go of the door’s handle. “Why is the door not moving?”

Pandora shrugs. “I suppose the house must be saying something? If your whole bloodline was witches then the house must have developed with some magic too. Perhaps we need to stay here.”

“Okay, this doesn’t explain why I’m somehow getting a power when it’s supposed to be for three sisters.”

“Bloody hell,” Regulus spits out and walks up to them with a rude gesture to the stairs. “Then let’s go look at this grimoire before I lose it!”

“How did you not know that your family are witches?” Evan asks as he follows him.

“What about you, uh?”

“It’s in our blood one way or another,” Pandora explains. “But it’s true that it’s strange that you didn’t have your powers until now… Or you Evan.”

“Well if it’s the power of three or whatever then maybe that’s because Sirius only came back now?”

Regulus sighs. “Somehow Sirius always manages to make it about hims-”

Pandora bumps into him when he stops in the middle of the second row of stairs with a small gasp. Regulus can feel Evan slowly tugging him back but he almost misses the step since his eyes are stuck on his mother.

Walburga Black stands in front of her portrait, in the exact same stance, but her eyes are stabbing right into him. She is paler and her clothes have the same strange hue as the rest of her but transparency doesn’t stop her aura to slowly dig her nails into his heart.

“[     ],” she hisses and all the windows ring in pain, “still playing as a boy.”

“Holy crap,” Evan gasps out.

“Reg’”, Pandora whispers.

“Mother?”

Her whole body suddenly jumps ahead as a sudden wind pushes itself in his body. Regulus almost slips down the stairs but he is held up.

“Everyone betrayed me!” Walburga shouts. “But I will get the powers that are mine!!”

“We need to ru-”

“Shut up you little bastard!” She shrieks.

Pandora is the first one who is thrown down, breaking a part of the stair’s balustrades, as Evan tries to catch her before he is hit himself in a wall and tumbles down the steps. Regulus stares at his mother, hovering in front of him with a horrid grimace, terrified. He is stricken when she sharply jerks her hand.

His head rings loudly against the wall, barely feeling his body as he plummets down the stairs. Windows shatter around them, covering the furious rain, and a panicked hiss rushes by. Regulus covers his head when he feels something falling on him.

“Regulus! We need to run!” Pandora shouts, pushing him up on his feet, before shrieking in surprise when another portrait explodes above them. “Evan! Evan, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he croaks out, standing up at the bottom of the stairs and his eyes widen when he spots them. “Get down!”

Regulus slips down a step as he and Pandora throw themselves down to avoid the myriad shards of glass flying into the wall beside them. He looks up to see a cabinet and broken pieces of wood, balustrades and a whole window spinning around his shrieking mother.

“The kitchen,” Pandora blurts out. “We need to get to the kitchen.”

He helps her stand up and quickly runs down the stairs as Evan rushes off when he becomes the target.

“Blasted children!” Walburga shrieks. “You are the bane of my existence! You don’t deserve my gifts, my powers!”

“Bloody stop her!” Evan shouts from his hiding spot in the living room. “Freeze her!”

Regulus reaches the ground floor with Pandora when he remembers it. He looks at Walburga, moving her hands around like whips and with a full cabinet thrown at them. Pandora shouts in surprise just as Regulus gestures at it with both hands.

“Holy shit,” he blurts out when the cabinet stays still in the air just like everything storming around his mother. “This is real.”

“That’s mine!” Walburga screams.

Pandora throws herself at Regulus just in time as the cabinet explodes in pieces along with the wall behind them because of a striding burst of wind. He gasps out as everything restarts around them.

“Wait— she didn’t freeze?”

“The kitchen!” Pandora screams.

The cat loudly hisses toward Walburga, following them as they scramble to the kitchen. Pandora opens a cupboard as more things seem to be cracked or shattered in Grimmauld Place.

“If Orion hadn’t killed me everything would have been perfect!” She screams like a dying whistle. “This bastard couldn’t do anything by himself and then begged me when I came back to kill him!”

Regulus crouches down when all the electronics explode in the kitchen. Evan joins him with his eyes wide on Pandora who keeps throwing all the cupboards open as the white cat walks back and forth anxiously under the table.

“Did your mother just say-” He trails off with a panicked look at Regulus. “That your father killed her and then she killed him?”

Regulus shrugs with a crazy chuckle because he is definitely losing his mind here. “How would I bloody know that?!”

Evan pushes him suddenly and jumps back on his arse, just before the buffet behind them crashes down to where they were. Regulus is as shocked as him.

“I found it!” Pandora exclaims and rushes to them with the jar of salt.

“Did you see that too?” He asks and Evan shakes his head, pale.

“Just a feeling.”

“You think you can hide from me?!” Walburga screams and all the windows explode in pieces. “I made you and I can destroy you if you don’t give me what is mine!”

The cat hisses and jumps at the highest point of view when his mother flies in the room with a look madder than it ever was, leaving the kitchen’s door shattered. Pandora throws salt in Walburga’s face before she barrels too close to them. She screams in pain, face literally in flames as she fights blindly drifting back.

“How did you do that?!”

“Salt works against ghosts,” she explains, shocked. “At least that’s what I heard.”

“Then make her disappear!” Regulus shouts.

“It only holds them back! We need a spell or a potion to stop her!”

“Try to freeze her again! Quickly!”

Regulus swears and throws his hands open toward his mother but she keeps moving. He tries several times before looking around to see that the cat is frozen mid-hiss.

“It doesn’t work on her.”

“Maybe because it’s a ghost,” Pandora breathes out.

“That’s such crap!”

Walburga fusses, staring at them with her eyes still flaming. Her whole body flickers with energy as her face grows more and more difform.

“How dare you attack me? Me! Your mother! Without me you would be nothing!”

“Take some salt,” Pandora says, “quickly and we run to the attic for the grimoire! We don’t have a ch-”

Regulus holds his breath when he hears the backdoor clicking open. Grimmauld Place’s back street is not well-known and he can’t even remember if he ever showed it to Evan and Pandora. He watches the door opening with hesitation and Sirius walks in with a frown at his phone.

“Urgh, you won’t belie-”

“Get down!”

Sirius doesn’t understand Regulus’ scream right away, even if he crouches a bit, but his eyes almost jump out when he sees their mother hovering like a storm in the kitchen before the kitchen table is thrown at him.

“Sirius!”

He shouts, jerking away, just as the table is sent back to Walburga who is unfazed. It breaks when it hits the wall, bringing down a painting.

“What the hell?!” Sirius screams, stepping back terrified with his eyes glued on the ghost. “Walburga?!”

“Sir-”

Regulus jumps on his feet with a handful of salt in hand to throw it on their mother, cutting her hissing. Sirius is speechless but Regulus doesn’t let him breathe and rushes to him.

“Snap out of it before she kills us!”

Sirius’ breath is shakingly exhaled and he quickly glances with red, fragile, eyes between him and Walburga - who screams harder behind them. Regulus quickly glances to see Pandora and Evan throwing more salt at her before he turns to his brother.

“Hurry!” Pandora shouts, hand in the pot. “We don’t have a lot!”

“What the hell is going on?” Sirius gasps out.

Regulus grabs him by his arms. “Sirius. No time to explain but you can throw stuff around, like the table-”

“What?! That was me?!”

“Yes! Now we need to get to the attic alive to find this bloody grimoire and send her to hell or whatever!”

Sirius shakes his head speechless just as Evan rushes to them.

“Can we go before she manages to kill us?!” He exclaims. “Try to freeze her or-or move her whatever!”

“Freeze her?” Sirius repeats, paling. “What’s happening?! Is that really Walburga?!”

“Who cares about that!”

“We need to run now!” Pandora warns, throwing the pot at Walburga but it only goes through her.

Regulus doesn’t give him the chance to ask anything more, dragging Sirius by his arm as they run out of the kitchen with the cat meowing after them distressed. His brother quickly catches on the run though.

“I need to know a little bit more!” He shouts.

“You’re the Charmed Ones!” Pandora cheers.

“Not the time!” Evan argues. “We need a bloody grimoire to kill or chase her off!”

“A what?!”

“We’re witches!” Regulus explains. “Maybe!”

“What’s happened to London?!”

The amount of salt seems to have slowed Walburga down enough because they are left at peace even when they reach the stairs.

“Wait, the front door!” Evan shouts, stopping at the first step. “That’s him!”

“Gideon?!” Sirius exclaims.

Regulus leans down to see a man looking around their destroyed foyer and the rest of the corridor before he quickly hurries when he catches their sight.

“I just wanted to check on you but then I heard all these noises– are you alright? What is going on? Why is everything broken?”

“Get the bloody hell out!” Sirius shouts.

“Get out!” Pandora agrees.

“Get him out,” Regulus hisses. “Throw him out or whatever!”

The front door slams closed. Gideon spins around with a small scream. Grimmauld Place shakes and heavy furnitures fall as the cat panics and twists around their feet to bound downstairs.

Walburga shoots through the air like a bullet, hitting straight on Gideon who is thrown unnaturally against the floor with a horrifying scream. Pandora gasps out and Regulus takes in her wide eyes when she weakly shakes him. The scream dies in a snap.

“Gideon?” Sirius whispers out.

“We need to go,” Pandora says with a nervous shake of her head. “She is in him.”

“What?”

“Sirius, let’s go,” Regulus says and grabs him but he stays put. “Sirius!”

“You.”

He freezes at the clear voice of their mother. It’s not an odd apparition anymore - he is back to his childhood where he neared the walls and made sure that he never breathed too loudly. Gideon raises but his face is twisted, a scream of murder and an awaiting wrath that will be unleashed.

“She is possessing him?” Evan realises in horror.

“You have always been my biggest mistake Sirius,” Walburga hisses as Gideon’s skin seems to jump as his body moves like a wild chained animal. “If I had known that Caradoc would have given me two children then I would have killed you at your birth!”

Regulus’ eyes widen, taking in his paralysed brother and the stunned faces of Evan and Pandora. “Isn’t Caradoc your father?”

Evan swallows and nods. Walburga finally gets on her feet, on Gideon’s feet, stumbling before a sound of bones crack echoing.

“I only needed three of you. But all these blasted men tried to fool me,” she darkly articulates with a twitching snicker. “I will get the powers that I created and then get rid of everyone who tried to cross me!”

She grabs a broken part of wood before rushing to them. Regulus startles with his hands out.

“Putain,” he blurts out when she is frozen. “It worked!”

He turns to them, relieved to see them still breathing but still stunned. Pandora shakes herself out of it after a second and quickly glances at Regulus before grabbing Evan and Sirius.

“The attic!”

They make the right move even if the first steps are clumsy before they dart upstairs because Walburga restarts moving, slowly, before screaming in abject horror before they even pass the first floor.

“Are you sure about it?!” Evan shouts.

“The book should have something!”

“We don’t have a choice-” Pandora shouts in surprise as the balustrade bends toward her, almost trapping her against the wall. “She still has powers!”

Regulus freezes his mother’s ascension but she fights through it, only stopping a second before slowly taking up her natural speed.

“Sirius, throw her down the stairs!”

“What?! I can’t!” He screams back after they barely avoided flying shards of glass. “That’s– she is inside Gideon?!”

“Just do what you did with the table!”

Sirius shakes his head distraught. Regulus swears under his breath and freezes Walburga again before running up the last stairs.

They manage to get in the attic with the cat running after them. Evan quickly closes the door and hesitates to stay next to it but quickly follows Regulus who darts to where he left the grimoire: on the lecter.

“What do we do?”

“There should be something against ghosts,” Pandora explains but doesn’t touch it. “I hope it’s a spell because I don’t know if we can do a potion.”

“Tell me Gideon is alive,” Sirius says.

She grimaces, lips croaking emptily before she purses her lips. “I– I don’t-”

They are thrown back, sliding violently against the opposite wall of the attic, just below the round window. The lecter topples and a large of the furnitures are blown away, leaving a direct path for Walburga who threw the door open.

“You’re fighting your own mother?” She spits out. “I know what’s best for you all foolish children. [    ], you were the one that could have made it work but Sirius poisoned you, made you a runt just like him with a sick, sick brain-”

“Shut up!” Sirius snaps, standing up with a glare before throwing his arm out.

Walburga is sent against the left wall, crashing down on dusty furniture.

“She only needed a real body,” Regulus realises.

“Can we get her out?” Sirius asks with a glance at them.

“Panda?”

She shakes her head, glancing at the grimoire laying not far from them. “I’m– I’m not sure!”

Evan groans out in pain as he throws himself to reach out for the heavy book. “I don’t bloody care.”

“Sirius!”

Walburga jumps on Sirius, tackling him against the wall before starting to choke him. He wheezes, fighting with his hands but her body doesn’t even stop. Regulus quickly tries to freeze her again before rushing to them when it doesn’t work. Walburga isn’t bothered by their scratching or the punches. A whistle cuts the Sirius’ gagging who has started to sob with the pain.

“Sirius! Use that!” Evan shouts and tosses the thick grimoire toward them.

Regulus steps back just as Sirius squints at it. The book is suddenly flung at Gideon’s head, properly knocking him off. 

“I didn’t say to use it like that!” Pandora shouts.

“That’s what I bloody saw!”

Sirius falls on his ass, loudly gasping for air with tears trailing down his face. Regulus crouches at his side, heart beating painfully, as he sees the red digging marks on his throat. He startles when Walburga stands up violently but before he can try to freeze her again - Gideon is violently thrown out of the round window. Regulus gapes before noticing Sirius’ raised hand while the other goes at his throat.

“Sirius,” he whispers, shaking. “Are you okay?”

“This fall better kills her,” he hisses out.

Pandora grabs the book before joining their side with Evan. “She is still a ghost so I’m not sure-”

The grimoire jumps out of her hands, pages flipping with no end before stopping on a page.

“The power of three spell?” Evan reads just as Sirius roughly clears his throat and coughs.

“This should work!” Pandora exclaims. “You three need to chant it, this should get rid of her!”

“Chant?”

“You need to– to be together to cast it! The three of you, your three powers, that’s what it means!”

A harsh cold sweeps in, violently blowing goods in one piece or more against the walls of the attic, as Walburga reappears in front of them with her body aberrantly formed. Regulus can’t help but think that it’s not even the worst she has ever been.

“I don’t need a body to remind you of who decides in this house!”

Regulus tightens his jaw and grabs Sirius’ hand and Evan’s as he jerks at the opened page of the Book of Shadows.

“You too Panda.”

Sirius glances at him warily before glaring at Walburga. Evan follows their leads as Pandora shuffles closer, grabbing onto their arms. Their mother shakes in fury as all the dust gather around her like a sand storm with shards and broken furniture.

“The Power of Three we now decree, The Power of Three will set you free, The Power of Three will destroy thee!”

The outcry shakes Evan to his core, still rocking him into an unpleasant lull, even after the ghost of Walburga imploded in front of them. She stared at them with a spiteful authority and wrath that still stink in the air, even when the rain is slowly drowning the attic through the broken window.

Sirius is the first one to move, clumsily getting on his feet as he stumbles to the large hole left in Grimmauld’ Place attic. It’s already night and the clouds smother the moon but there is no mistake of the body laying down at their steps. They all see Gideon sinking under the rain but they don’t say anything even when Sirius walks away at the first exclamations of their neighbours. Soon enough comes the police. 

“This man attacked you in your house?”

Evan glares at the aged policeman. His shiny badge spells out Barty Crouch Sr. and he has asked them many questions before Evan decides to take the lead. He has almost finished a master in law so he figures he can give them a way out of this mess. Gideon is dead, whether it’s from the fall or Walburga is another question, but there is no way they can tell them the truth.

“Listen, we already told you everything. We are as shocked as anyone else of what happened,” Evan says, trying to not give anything out by mistake. “He knew Sirius but we never opened the door. He came inside without asking before falling from our attic.”

Crouch Sr. eyes him, moustache twitching, before glancing up at the broken window. Pandora tightens her grip around his arm and Evan squeezes her shoulder. Sirius is still quiet, behind them, with a grim look and the white cat in his arms as Regulus is still treated by a doctor from the ambulance.

“And you four live together?”

“Yes.”

“Since how long?”

“A year. It’s– a family’s house.”

“Do you want a surveillance team? If you believe someone else might be after you,” he offers.

“No,” Sirius spits out.

The policeman purses his lips but nods and jots down on his notebook. “Well, then we will contact you later once we have a clearer idea of what happened.”

“Yes, thank you,” Evan clips.

He watches them before leaving. It’s a mess of their neighbours and many reporters, especially once the word got out that it’s Gideon Crumb from The Weird Sister. Grimmauld Place is in a rough state and they have to replace all the windows. Evan can spot that Regulus is already looking for someone to do that by how furiously he looks through his phone.

“I don’t like him,” Pandora whispers.

“Who?” Evan asks with the same tone.

She gestures at Crouch Sr. who has joined his men to discuss. He can share the feeling but can’t help but worry more about Walburga. The Book of Shadows hadn’t let them breathe even when they swallowed the shock, pages furiously turning and settling on the one: How to Vanquish the Evil Spirit of a Witch.

“Let’s go,” Regulus says once he is free. “The cab is here.”

“Now?” Evan asks, stumped. “We– do you know how suspicious this will look like if we leave now?”

“We don’t have a choice, do we? She will come back,” he hisses out. “That’s what the grimoire said, right?”

Pandora nods with a sorry look. “If we don’t burn her bones…”

“I will go fetch alcohol,” Sirius roughly says. “And the lighter.”

The cab doesn’t ask them any questions despite the scene of police cars and ambulances but Regulus slips him more money than necessary just in case. They are in rough shape despite the ambulance’s care but his body still aches. Regulus has already contacted his bakery that he will take his sick leave, at least for two days.

“Wait here, please,” Evan requests and the driver nods even if he glances curiously at the cemetery’s entry.

Sirius leads them and Pandora tries to keep his speed, talking quietly, but Evan doesn’t catch what she says or if he even answers. He has briefly said that Gideon was his ex and apparently followed him here in London to ‘get back together’. There is nothing he can think of to help or even say but hopefully Pandora finds the right words. They still have to digest how they are apparently related, now witches and not just random ones. Regulus’ phone rings and he sighs out before taking it.

“Yes?” He huffs out, eyes on Sirius and Pandora heading toward the Black Mausoleum. “What? Who are you again?”

Evan hears ‘James Potter’ and that he is apparently a handyman, who has been contacted by one of the people Regulus tried to call, and ready to come by to figure out what they need. Pandora and Sirius are waiting for them at the door of the mausoleum and Regulus quickly agrees for this Potter to come by tomorrow to fix a list of what needs to be repaired and the cost.

The mausoleum is huge but they easily find the burial of Walburga Black. She is laying in a companion crypt with Orion Black and Evan wonders if he even expected her to kill him; he wouldn’t be surprised that she told the truth after all of that. His and Pandora’s father never spoke about their mother, not even saying if she died or left them at birth, but they have no memories or even a name to look for. They are two years younger than Regulus which would also fit with her own time of death, since Regulus supposes that Orion might have killed her for cheating and carrying other people’s child– they are big on incest in our lineage.

“How do you open that?”

“I can do it,” Sirius says, putting the two bottles of alcohol in Pandora’s arms.

“Wait, you can’t just send it against the wall,” Regulus cuts him. “Just open it a little or something.”

He glares at him but it quickly softens and Evan thinks he might cry before it glares at the crypt. His hand jerks shortly and the seal snaps, sliding the crypt open without falling with its own weight. Evan gags at the smell and steps back but Pandora immediately peeks inside.

“It’s empty.”

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Shell 4.5 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

In silence, we caught the bus at the ferry and got off at the Trainyard, the part of the Docks that sat opposite to the Boardwalk.

There is just something so deliciously absurd about the mental image of supervillains, even teenage ones, just... riding the bus. Granted, they're (presumably) not doing it in costume, but still.

slanted just enough that people wouldn’t be able to comfortably walk or sleep on top of them.

Ah yes, gotta love hostile architecture.

“If you asked me five hours ago, I would’ve said no,” Regent replied.  “I would have told you, sure, she’s a loose cannon, she’s reckless, crazy, she’s easily pissed off and she’ll hospitalize those people who do piss her off… but I’d have said she’s loyal, that even if she doesn’t necessarily like us-”

I mean, trust but verify and all that. No Rachel, no money, it's a safe assumption.

A soft clapping answered her.  It was slow, unenthusiastic to the point of being sarcastic. “Brilliantly deduced,” the same person that had been clapping spoke out.  As Tattletale whipped her head around, I took a few steps back from the storage locker, to get a better look at the two people who stood on the roof.

It's cliche, but I always like the 'character watching the protagonists figure it out and then do the sarcastic clap' trope.

They were standing with one leg higher than the other, to keep from sliding off the angled roof, and both were wearing identical costumes.  The costumes sported blue man-leotards with broad belts cinched around their waists, skintight white sleeve and leggings.  Their hoods were elastic, clinging to their heads so they left only a window for the face, and each sported a single white antenna.  Of all colors, their gloves, boots and the balls at the top of their antennae were bubblegum pink.  Their faces were obscured by oversize goggles with dark lenses.

Which... which video game is this?

“Rest assured, Tattletale, you do,” Über proclaimed.  He was the sort of person who proclaimed, announced, broadcasted and declared.  Just like Grue’s power altered his voice to make him sound haunting and inhuman, Über’s power made him sound like the guy who narrated trailers for action movies or late night commercials.  Overdramatic, intense about everything he said, no matter how mundane.  Like someone overacting the role of a gallant knight in a kid’s movie.

Evocative. I do think Wildbow's willingness to do descriptions like this (helped by using 1st person narrative, which I do think facilitates this sort of thing) whereas a lot of conventional writing wisdom would say to not do this, is a big part of Worm's success, honestly.

Leet frowned and turned to the camera, “Is that really necessary?” “You fucked with us,” I replied, “I fuck with your subscriber base.”

Hit 'em where it hurts.

He didn’t get to finish.  Regent swung his arm out to one side, and Über lost his footing.  I joined the others in stepping back out of the way as he fell face first onto the pavement at the base of the locker.

Regent's abilities would probably let him do well at slapstick improv shows or something. I mean, you don't need to fake a trip and fall with him around. :rofl:

Grue spoke in a low voice that wouldn’t carry to the pair of villains, “They did something to Bitch, they’ve got the money.  If we don’t get a decisive victory here, our reputation is fucked.”

Villain fight!

I wonder if, during her career as a villain, Taylor fights other villains more than heroes. From what I know of Worm, I wouldn't be surprised. But how much more, pound for pound? :thinking_face:

This was the sort of thing I had put on a costume to do.  Sure, the context wasn’t what I would have chosen, but going up against bad guys?

As far as some of Taylor's various rationalization's go, this isn't even a particularly dangerous or slipper one. :thinking_face:

[sabraeal]

Seven Swipes for Shirayuki, Chapter 6

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki Trope Madness 2024, Semifinal #1: Bodyguard Crush

“Yuuta.” Names have never been Shirayuki’s forte; she struggles with Sarah and Sara, crosses her fingers when she comes across a Siobhan or a Ciaran, and now labors to decipher whether this is a ‘u’ sound or an ‘oo’ sound— gosh, it might even be a ‘uu’ situation, which is a whole other disaster entirely—

“Does he have a last name to go with that?” Obi murmurs, just loud enough for her to catch it. Well, so she hopes. “Or maybe you could just ask him for his number. Skip the whole swiping song-and-dance and just get down to—”

“Could you spell that for me?” she asks, a hair louder than necessary, hoping her smile doesn’t flicker under pressure the way old fluorescents do . “The patient’s name, I mean.”

“Oh! The…the patient’s…” Her well-meaning visitor shuffles, pink flaring up right under the spray of small freckles across his cheeks. It really is just like being back at the old B&B again, trying to smother a laugh as the sweet retriever from down the street keeps bringing back the wrong ball. “Right, of course. You need the patient’s…god, sorry, I wasn’t even thinking…”

“Happens all the time.” She bites back a smile as pink blooms into carnelian red. “We don’t tend to see people at their most put-together here.”

“Haah, right, makes sense.” His tanned hand digs into the tousles mass of his hair, sending it wild. It's a charming look, she has to admit. Makes her wish there were Beggin’ Strips for people too— he looks like he could use a treat. “Just feels a little stupid, that’s all. Not like you could look me up. In a patient registry, I mean.”

“You got a Tinder, though?” Obi crosses an knobby ankle over his knee, pant leg riding up enough to show the chili peppers on his socks. “OkCupid? Plenty of Fish?”

"Uh." The man blinks, first at him, then at her, as if she might confirm that this line of questioning is somehow part of the official visitor registration process. It's not. “Y-yes?”

"Ooh?" Obi pitches forward, fingers poised over the app store. “Which—?”

“Obi.”

“What?” Having reached the end of his leash, her wayward hound finally comes to heel. With a tug of his coat, he slouches back, not a hint of contrition lingering in that smirk of his. “I was just wondering.”

She lets her glare do the heavy lifting as she repeats, “What was the name again?”

“Ah, my dad’s? Katsu. Katsu Baudin.” The man coughs, clearing his throat. “And I’m, uh, his son. Yuuta.”

“We know,” Obi chirps helpfully as she puts in her login. It shouldn’t work— IT’s supposed to update the registry at midnight, and she’s been legally off payroll for three days— but the system only takes a long, hard think and rolls over, displaying patient information with the same enthusiasm as a dog wagging its tail. “With two ‘u’s?”

“Uh…”

Her visitor— Yuuta— glances at her, but she’s too busy tallying the number of security and privacy regulations violated to give him much more than, “Katsu Baudin, Room 7760.”

There should be some palpable relief on the air, or at least the barest whiff of gratitude, but instead their wayward visitor shuffles awkwardly behind the counter, not flushed but— strained, maybe. “Um, sorry, I don’t mean to be a pain or anything, but do you think—?”

“Two floors down.” Wistal is hardly as labyrinthine as Wirant— built into a hill, each wing designed to be the magmum opus of architects thirty years apart, resulting in atria so beautiful they graced the covers of Architectural Digests and hallways so nonsensical as to be be hostile to human life, with entrances on every floor between the first and the fourth besides the third— but with each level laid out exactly like the last, it’s easy to get turned around. “If you go straight out from the elevators, take your second right. 7760 should be down that hall on your left.”

“Ahh, right, thanks. That’s…a huge help.” He hesitates, gaze fixed down the hall as if it were a thousand yards instead of five. His fingers fingers drum nervously on the counter top. “I don’t want to— I mean, it’s just—”

He hangs his head, dark eyes huge and pleading as they peer up from under that fluffy flop of hair, as helpless as a dog that’s found a door it can’t nose open. “I suck at directions.”

It takes every last ounce of her self control to keep only the corners of her mouth twitching. “That’s no problem at all. Just let me call down to their desk and give them the heads up that you're coming. Then you can go there and have someone take you right to the room.”

“Oh!” His head snaps up, eyes so wide she can nearly see a waggling tail behind him. “You can do that? Er, I mean…I wouldn’t want to put you out…?”

In Wilant there would have been some grumbling, some pointed questions about just how many times his parents had dropped him on his head as a child if he couldn’t go two floors down and take a turn without getting it all twisted, but here—

Shirayuki glances across the hall, catching a flash of pale hair above a designer button-down, of a profile that has graced more covers of GQ than she’s got fingers on one hand. As exceptional as Izana is, she doubts that’s even the most impressive statistics on the floor. There’s a husband just around the corner she’s pretty sure has a collection of Super Bowl rings. Recent ones, considering all the rubbernecking outside their door.

“They’re used to worse,” Obi offers, so helpful as he scrolls. “A little hand holding isn’t going to break the scale.”

Yuuta blinks down at him. “Er, all right. If you’re sure.”

“Please,” he scoffs, slouching further into the ergonomic plastic. “Unless you’re bringing your mistress to watch your wife go through labor, no one's even going to—”

“Just a minute!” Shirayuki smiles as she picks up the phone, refusing to acknowledge anything over her shoulder. “Let me see what I can do.”

*

There may be no phone trees or music on internal lines, but there’s still plenty of waiting, especially with no voicemail for stale calls to be shunted to. Still, it’s only a few minutes before someone picks up— a nurse fresh from shift change, happy to take of ‘that old charmer’s baby.’ Watching Yuuta’s back disappear into the elevator makes a nice ending to an unplanned long night, and Shirayuki—

“What, you aren’t going to go with him?” Obi leans back in his chair, straining the ergonomic claims of those cushions. “Make sure the prodigal son makes it back home? Maybe hold his hand a little?”

“I think he’ll manage just fine.” She blows out her cheeks as she sits, letting her mouth settle into her sternest frown. “Now, I trust you deleted that thing?”

“Me? No. I’ve swiped right on three real studs already. And let me just say” —he presses a hand to his chest, the silk of his tie rumpling under the pressure— “I chose better for you than you choose for yourself.”

“Obi!” It’s a strangled noise, one she just barely keeps to quiet-hours guidelines. “I told you that I wasn’t interested in—!”

“Trust me, Miss,” he soothes, entirely too smug. “You’ll be interested in these guys. Or at least their traps.”

“I thought we agreed that—”

“We didn’t agree on anything.” His eyebrows may twitch up to angelic heights, but his attempts at innocence are ruined by the downright sly curl his mouth takes. “You said I should, and I declined to take your advice.”

All at once, the fight seeps out of her, leaving only the weariest sigh in its wake. “Obi…”

“Aww, come on, now, Miss. No need to go borrowing trouble yet. It's not like you've matched.” His lips twitch. “Yet. But let’s be real, who could say no to a knock-out like y—?”

“You are going to delete that,” she informs him with all the authority of a limp dish rag. “Right now. While I can watch.”

“Aw, Miss,” he whines, using only the most pitiful pitches. “I’m just helping.”

Shirayuki stares. “You think this is helping?”

“Of course.” His shoulders twitch, halfway between a shrug and a shield. “What better way to recover from a bad break up then having someone blow out your—?”

“Ah, no!” Her hand flies up, the flimsiest barrier between them. “Don’t— don’t finish that thought.”

“But, Miss—”

“I appreciate your…consideration,” she informs him, gracious. “Really, I do. But I think that maybe you and I process this sort of thing differently. Very…very differently.”

“I didn’t say you had to jump right into bed.” Though he sounds dubious on that order of operations. “But you could let someone take you out, treat you right. And then maybe on date three, you—”

“Three?” It’d taken almost six months for her to even kiss Zen, let alone even think about the sort of activities that might require the removal of clothes. And by then, it took them three months of planning to even get them in the same room. “Do people really…?”

“You know how it is, Miss.” Obi’s sprawled across the chair, lounging in a way its ergonomic bullet points were never supposed to accommodate, but there’s nothing casual about the way his eyes settle on her. “People are busy nowadays. Not much time to take it slow.”

“I have time.”

Shirayuki nearly jolts straight out of her chair. “Ryuu?”

*

(Shirayuki’s not given to believe in the supernatural— not ghosts, not ESP, not sixth senses that seem to only work in hindsight— but she’ll give Yuzuri this: her ability to locate her anywhere in this rabbit warren of hallways is downright occult.

“Have I got the goss for you, girl,” she squeals, stealing a baby carrot out of her lunch box as she slips into the empty seat beside her. It’s all empty seats in the break room right now, but Yuzuri rolls even closer, voice pitched low. “Word on the street is that Ryuu’s got something going on with the new intern.”

“In Imaging?” It’s hard to picture her— she’s a shy thing, always disappearing behind a white coat as a cart turns a corner, just a blonde ponytail above pink scrubs. “I guess they’re around the same age.”

“Same age,” Yuzuri scoffs, gnawing on her ill-gotten gains. “Is that what you think people care about? The same age? No, this girl is like…his type.”

That doesn’t sound quite right, not to her ears. “I don’t really think Ryuu has—”

“Of course he does. Everyone has a type, Shirayuki, even you.” Her voice drops to mutter something that sounds suspiciously like, “Even if you don’t realize it.”

“I just mean that Ryuu hasn’t shown much interest in…anything like that.” Romance, she means. But if she says it, Yuzuri will probably counter with something about sex, and quite honestly, she’s not sure if she can handle Ryuu and... and that idea in the same sentence. “I’m not really sure he wants to, either.”

“Yeah, yeah, normally I’d agree with you,” Yuzuri says with a dismissive wave. “But this girl is like, smart. And super cute. Like freckles everywhere! And her laugh— seriously, you have to hear it. He like, smiled and stuff.”

Well, the smile is a start. “Is that what his type is? Smart and cute? Freckles?”

“I mean, basically right?” Her hand flop open into something between a slouch and a shrug. “That’s what you’re like.”

It’s a good thing there’s no silverware involved in eating hummus, otherwise it would have clattered to the floor. It’s sad enough that she’ll have to toss out this baby carrot casualty. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you know how it is,” Yuzuri presses on, as if she didn’t just drop a detail more devastating than an atom bomb. “It’s not about you. It’s just that every guy wants to fuck their mom or whatever. Freudian stuff.”

Shirayuki has opinions on Freud— capital ‘O’ Opinions, as Obi likes to call them, along with, the kind that don’t get us asked back to the country’s finest conferences— but all she can manage is, “I think I’m more like a sister than a mother.”

Yuzuri shrugs. “Same difference.”)

*

“Ryuu.” Her hand slaps to her chest, as if that might keep her heart beneath it better than own her ribcage. Which might be true, from how hard its pounding to get out. Shirayuki can hardly blame it. “What are you…? Ah, I mean, were you…?”

It’s still strange to have to look up to meet his eyes, to see the way his face furrows with the beginnings of annoyance. “It’s now or not until after four. Should I come back?”

“Wha— oh, the ultrasound.” Now that she’s on her feet, she can see the cart at his side, loaded up with one of the mobile units he must have requisitioned from Imaging. “Are you doing it?”

“I said I would.”

There’s no humble shrug to go with his words, no inflection to imply emotion, just a simple recitation of the facts. “Well, yes, but I thought you would have one of the techs on shift come up and—”

“I had time.” His shoulders settle into stern angles as his chin lifts, as imperious as any MD. “Is there a problem with that?”

There’s a half dozen, starting and ending with how he’s the Attending today; someone who has a thousand more pressing responsibilities than doing some investigative ultrasound for her patient. But as much as she might try, the words won’t stick together in her mouth, won’t let her make anything but the most unconvincing sputter. “N-no, it’s only—”

“Aw, come on, big guy.” Obi saunters up to the counter, elbow brushing her shoulder as he furls himself up for a lean. It’s nice; steadying. “You know there’s no one else Miss would trust to do this more than you. But don’t big shots like you have busy schedules? I wouldn’t think you’d have the time to come help little old us.”

A stubborn red that clings to the tips of his ears. “As I said, I do. Is it in that room, there?”

His head bobs toward the door. There’s no one behind the window now, just a straight view from hall to window, blinds strung tight across the glass.

“Yes, 9060.” He’s already wheeling the cart towards it when she adds, “Izana should be with her, too.”

The cart squeals to a stop.

“Oh.” His knuckles blanch so white she can see bone where they grip the handle. “Then maybe I should come back. Later. After…”

He doesn’t finish the thought. Shirayuki frowns. “I don’t see why. Is there something wrong with—?”

“Oh, I get it.” Obi’s smirk stretches long into a leer as he leans toward her, voice pitched to be heard as he whispers, “I think he’s afraid of Her Majesty. Intimidated by laying hands on America’s Sweetheart. Little too famous for his blood, I—”

“I didn’t say that,” Ryuu grumbles, sullen. “I’m not laying hands on her anyway. It’s only the probe that will—”

“So it’s His Majesty then,” Obi amends, so considerate. It’s a struggle to keep her mouth from twitching, giggles straining behind her teeth. “Can’t say I blame you for that one, little guy. That guy makes me break out into a cold sweat.”

“I’m not afraid of Izana Wisteria.” The name snaps between his teeth, cold. “I just thought that if she has a visitor, she might not want to be interrupt—”

“You know, Miss.” It’s hard to call something as languid as Obi’s lounging aggressive, but that’s what it is— weaponized slinkiness, the way a cat weaves through legs at dinnertime. “If Ryuu thinks that this is too rich for his blood, you should really just get someone else to—”

“I’m doing it.” The cart squeals as it angles toward the door, wheels grinding with the same single-minded focus as Ryuu’s teeth. “I— I’m already going!”

He doesn’t so much march as storm over, shoulders hiked like pickets by his ears as he knocks at the door. “Excuse me,” he says, swinging it open. “Name and birth date, please.”

It shuts before she can hear Haki’s answer.

*

“Boo.” Obi doesn’t so much sit as he does slump, a puppet with all his strings cut. “He coulda kept that door open a smidge longer. I've heard that America’s Sweetheart fudged the date on her birth certificate to get that role in Mean Girls.”

“I doubt that.” Shirayuki spares him the flattest stare, fingers striking the keys with a pointed power as she logs out from the system. “Her family’s a big deal, aren’t they? Hollywood Royalty, isn’t that what Yuzuri called it?”

“Miss.” His shoulders shake along with his head. “Only you could ask if the Arleons were a big deal.”

Years ago she might have blushed, might have stammered out excuses about the how cable didn’t run out that far until she was in college, and the combination post office/movie theater in town only ran movies two years out of date, but now— now she simply says, “That proves my point, doesn’t it? There were probably newspaper articles about it. An entertainment Weekly birth announcement? Something. It can’t be much of a mystery.”

“There was also some website that counted down to her eighteenth birthday.” He shrugs, casual, as if that isn’t the most horrifying thing he’s ever heard. Then again, knowing Obi, it probably doesn’t even make the top thirty. “But you know, once you get a thing like that in your head…”

He lets his grin do the rest of the talking. Like all of his outrageous behavior, she simply ignores.

“Thank you for that, by the way.” One of his narrow brows hikes up toward his hairline, and she clarifies, “With Ryuu. You’ve always known how to handle him better than I do.”

“You do just fine.” The seat creaks as he tucks his thigh against its arm, elbow lazily hooking over his knee. “He just needs a little heat to get him into the kitchen sometimes. And you’re not someone who’s comfortable with turning it up. Especially when it comes to Ryuu.”

Shirayuki doubts her interns would agree with that particular assessment, but she simply says, “Thank you anyway. If you hadn’t been here, I think we really would have been waiting until four.”

Obi hums. “Oh, I’m not sure about that, Miss. Seems like you handled it just fine the other day.”

She blinks. “The other day?”

“You know.” His shoulders twitch, the laziest suggestion of a shrug. “Ms. Luteal Cyst?”

*

(The cart wheels catch on the threshold, casters making a nasty ka-crack as they struggle over the metal strip. The noise alone has got her grimacing, but when she sees the close-cropped dark hair, so like Obi’s now that all the curls have been left on the barber shop floor, her mouth pulls thinner still.

“Ryuu.” He’s supposed to be on days this week— at least according to the schedule posted up in the break room— but yet he’s here, wincing as the last wheel wails across the floor. Ah, and he’s gotten the squeaky cart. “I didn’t think you’d be…?”

In, she wants to say, but doing the tech’s job keeps trying to elbow its way out at the same time, and instead the question just hangs, awkward.

“Oh, Shirayuki.” He blinks, first at her, then as he leans out the door, as if—

“This is the right room!” she assures him, a laugh startling out of here. “It’s just a slow shift, so I though I might keep my friend here company while she waited.”

“Oh.” The girl sinks further into her pillows as he stares, withering under the stern furrow of his brows. Shirayuki’s half-tempted to tell her that it’s not personal, that without regular reminders, Ryuu’s face defaults to forbidding. “The gel’s going to be cold.”

“I-I don’t care.” She lifts her chin, defiant; a challenge if he means to make it one. “Anything’s fine as along as my baby’s okay.”

Ryuu shoots her a wary glance across the bed— don’t let this girl have emotions on me, it says, loud and clear— before he turns back to the computer, fingers clacking pointedly across the keys. That leaves her to help the girl lift up her johnny, rearranging blankets and drop cloth so her legs and clothes are covered, terrible mesh underwear and all.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” The words might be for Ryuu, but Shirayuki keeps smiling down at her patient, trying to keep her in the conversation. “Usually we don’t have doctors doing untrasound, but Dr Goldregen sometimes helps out when there’s a bit of a scheduling back up—”

“Or when the tech no-shows.”

Her smile stiffens. “O-or that.”)

*

“Ah…” Shirayuki shakes her head. “That didn’t have anything to do with me. Mihaya was late for shift change—”

“Must be nice to have a wing of a hospital named after your family,” Obi muses, head tilted over the back of the chair. “Then you can just waltz into work at any old time, and everyone just says ‘thank you for your time.’”

“I don’t think anyone says that to him,” she snorts. “And he does a passable job when he’s here, so—”

“So no one can fire him.”

Shirayuki struggles against a smile. “So no one can fire him. Ryuu just got here early for shift change and saw there had been a request pending for over an hour. It had more to do with being efficient than helping me.”

Obi hums, unconvinced. “I think you underestimate just how much that kid likes to please you. Maybe he didn’t know it was your patient or whatever, but I bet he showed off once he knew you were there. Probably had good bedside manner and everything.”

*

(The girl yips at the first touch of gel on her stomach, but Ryuu doesn’t even flinch, already pressing the probe down to spread it around. “It’s cold!”

He sends her a sidelong look. “I did warn you.”)

*

“Not…measurably.” It’s effort to keep her tone even. “Ryuu respects my opinion, but he’s really not the sort of person to give special treatment just because—”

“I’m done.”

“Ryuu!” Zen used to joke about putting a bell on Obi— or at least he did, before Obi sent him an Amazon link to a few human-sized collars— but Shirayuki is beginning to wonder if they might need to find one for Ryuu. Last thing they need is for him to startle someone into coding. “A-already?”

He nods. “One sac.”

Shirayuki frowns. That’s hardly what she expected. “Are you sure? Sometimes it’s tricky to see if—”

“I checked for a posterior placenta too.” His shoulders twitch, the barest shrug. “Sometimes hyperemesis gravidium is just hyperemesis gravidium.”

“I guess.” There’s just something unsatisfying about saying it’s hormones; something that feels dismissive rather than diagnostic. “I just could have sworn…”

“What I said before.” Ryuu clears his throat, looking like he’d rather be anywhere than right here, standing in front of the nurse’s desk. “About not doing it again.”

“I know, I know.” She sighs, waving a hand. “It was already kind of you to do it this time— and personally too. I won’t ask again.”

“No, that’s not…” His lips press tight, a white line cutting across his face. “I mean, I’ll do it, if you really need it.”

She blinks. “Really?”

“In a few weeks,” he tells her, stern, as if she might turn around and tell him to go back in there. “There’s things that might not show up now. Rare things. But…things.”

“That’s really kind of you, Ryuu.” For anyone else, she might reach out— pat their shoulder, shake their hand— but for him, she just smiles. But the way he straightens, it’s enough. “But I’d hate to bother you after—”

“It’s not a bother. If you think something’s wrong, I believe you.” It’s been ages since he was the boy genius, a teenager that trembled when he walked onto the floor. But there’s shades of it now in the way he looks at her, gratitude and trust and affection all tangled up into something that makes it hard to look away from his too-blue eyes. “Garrack always told me that you have good intuition. My own experience agrees. It would be foolish to deny that based on something so subjective as statistics.”

It must be a little too earnest even for him, since he shakes himself, quickly adding, “I have other things to do today. Goodbye.”

He rolls off, squeaky cart wheel wailing, and all she can do is stare at his back.

Obi snorts. “No special treatment, huh?”

She’s not sure how to answer, but she’s saved from having to figure it out when Obi’s phone blings obnoxiously. “What’s that?”

He glances down at the screen, mouth unfurling into a terribly devious grin.

“Why look at that, Miss,” he drawls. “Looks like we got a match.”

[monriatitans]

Finished a Book! Mini-Review

Monday, November 4, 2024

Unmasking Autism: Discovering the New Faces of Neurodiversity by Devon Price, Ph.D.

EVERYONE needs to read this book. Those in power, especially. Reading this book VINDICATED my struggles with communication. Here's a quote:

"If Autistic people are to be fully included in public life, we must vastly expand accessibility requirements to cover the sensory needs of Autistic people and regulate the accessibility of events as well as buildings. It's not just architecture that can be hostile to disabled bodies and minds. As this book has repeatedly shown, many of the ways that disabled people are excluded are far more subtle, and social, than a clear-cut lack of ramps or Braille signage." – pg. 235

For those who don't know, “masking” is hiding our Autistic traits so we're not discriminated against, which can be physically and emotionally draining. Don't believe discrimination would happen if the mask was dropped? Bouncing off the quote, businesses need to be REQUIRED to learn the communication styles of Autistics. “What do you mean?” Autistics NEED direct communication and a clear definition of expectations. We NEED to know what to expect. We NEED you to, instead of getting angry when we don't get the hint, stop hinting. We NEED you to, instead of getting angry at the small talk being done wrong, skip it. Not understanding someone's needs doesn't mean you get to dismiss them. Communication is a two-way street. We Autistics shouldn't have to mask how we naturally communicate to not be shunned by society. 10/10

—

DEVON PRICE, PhD, is a social psychologist, professor, author, and proud Autistic person. His research has appeared in journals such as the Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, and the Journal of Positive Psychology. Devon's writing has appeared in outlets such as the Financial Times, HuffPost, Slate, Jacobin, Business Insider, LitHub, and on PBS and NPR. He lives in Chicago, where he serves as an assistant professor at Loyola University Chicago's School of Continuing and Professional Studies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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—

[natural-harmonia-posting]

what made you realize you saw n as family? Also, how long did it take for drayden to feel the same and did he agree with you to take n in?

Gosh, those are kinda loaded questions. Not that I mind answering, I'd just need to think about it.

I don't think I can say there was a singular moment of realization. Honestly, as soon as I found him after the League takeover, I knew I wanted to help him in some way. No one acts the way N did without having been hurt badly, I knew that much. Black told me some things N shared when she first ran away from Team Plasma.

And I had the displeasure of knowing Ghetsis before everything really happened. That in mind, I knew no one had ever given the kid a chance.

When they started staying at my house, they were quiet and scared, not to mention distrusting. She spent a lot of her time just in the guest bedroom hiding from us, and wouldn't stay in the same area as anyone for more than a few minutes most of the time. It took such a long time for him to start settling down and opening up.. Once he did, though, the difference was like night and day. I always knew she had the capacity to be sweet, but her sheer dedication to treating pokémon with love and kindness was heartwarming to see.

Plus, with that newfound openness, I was able to know more about her. You know, her passion, her interests, what she truly stood for when she wasn't under pressure from Team Plasma. If you give him the chance, he sure can talk! The first time they relaxed a bit and let themself ramble about how much they love architecture, that felt like a pivotal moment. We started doing more things together like gardening, battling, doing jigsaw puzzles, little stuff just to bond.

I guess all that effort we- not just me, but Benga and Iris as well- put into getting N to trust us and open her heart really was what made them feel like family to me. You put so much energy into trying to help someone, you're gonna be invested. I think N is worth that effort. Waking up to see them around the house each day became our normal for two years.

Whew, I already said a lot, and that was only half the question. Sorry about that.

About Drayden.. haha, no, not at all. I didn't even ask him if it was okay to take her in because I already knew he was pissed at N. We argued about it a few times. He didn't trust her, didn't want her around, and didn't see a point to it at all. First week they were here, he made them cry- By accident, of course, he didn't set out to do that, but he was being mean and he's a scary looking man.

I don't entirely blame him for that response, given that N tried to destroy his city and put our granddaughter in danger, but I really thought he should know better than to be so outwardly hostile. He was convinced for awhile that she would try to hurt us when we let our guard down.

I don't know exactly at what point he changed. I think that seeing her cry probably softened him up at the beginning, and slowly, he calmed down when he saw she was genuinely apologetic and afraid. I think it was maybe a few months before they would be in each other's proximity for very long at all, and almost a year before they seemed to genuinely like each other. He was pretty back and forth about it in the early days, since he was both trying to make sure she was taken care of decently while also being cold and suspicious. I did my best to put them in scenarios where they could spend positive time together and get along. Drayden has always had difficulty with familial connections... The dragon clan he belonged to was incredibly bad about that.

He does love him now, though, I'm certain of that. He has a soft spot for troubled ones, which is why he adopted Iris to begin with.