#i wonder why it’s unclear!!! i can’t imagine!!!!!!

[clowningcrows]

lol just saw a lesbian nsft blog that has “men dni” on every single post and yet their pinned post says, “this doesnt include trans men, since that isn’t clear for some reason” like hello????

[n1ghteeea]

Allaboutrgb here, I’ve got Cabinet of Calamari in the mind so I might as well pick that for my ask subject.

Any thoughts on Egon carrying a hair pin around? Or why Ray might be able to pick a lock? (Unclear if he actually can or not.)

And not really a question but I wonder what the keys on Peter’s key ring go to, the firehouse I assume but what else. 🤔

Never wanna leave Winston out so we should marvel at how flexible he is, he had to really contort to escape those swords.

Ty for the ask!!

Egon carrying a hairpin is ridiculous, I remember my first thought was that his stupid hairstyle requires them to hold, but I think he might just have everything on him at all times, because he randomly has matches in some episode too. Maybe his motto is “you must always come prepared!!”

Picking locks seems to be a common ability for them, bc Peter does it in “You Can’t Take It With You,” Winston does it in some later season ep (and says his dad taught him) and guess Ray can do it too!! Maybe he learned it as a kid in school, I imagine smalltown boys don’t have much to do with their free time, so they try absolutely everything for fun.

And yeah, Peter’s keys are comical, the only thing I can come up with is that they are from different rooms of the Firehouse, though it doesn’t seem like they close them that often, if at all, so who knows! He’s a weird guy!! Maybe it’s all the same key and he has like 20 backups in case he loses it!!

And oh man, love that scene, Egon finds it hilarious but it’s actually very impressive!! Winston is so cool - both strong AND flexible, like what can’t you do??

[suzukiblu]

Krypton lives and the one where kons soulmark is fake for wip wednesday?

Krypton lives and Kara did not sign up for this:

The boys share a glance, then both leave their bags at the foot of a different bed. They pause, just for a moment, and then turn back to her. She wonders what the pause was about, but doesn’t want to hear another six point five answer right now and so just heads back into the hall instead of asking. She’ll ask later, if it happens again. 

She takes them to the kitchen and cracks open the cupboards, trying to figure out what to feed them. She doesn’t know what Earthlings prefer, flavor-wise. Kal told her they’re omnivores, same as Kryptonians, and the medical scans said neither of them should have any dietary restrictions, but Earthlings apparently prefer larger portions and much more meat and dairy than Kryptonians do, and usually their informal meals are served all on one plate, with the main and sides delivered simultaneously and usually including meat and vegetables and sometimes something he’d called “bread”. He hadn’t explained “bread” very well. Something involving wheat, but ground up and baked . . . ? 

So livestock feed, apparently. Kara has no idea how that’s supposed to be appetizing, but she’s not an Earthling. 

She’d just ordered extra rice and just assumed it’d be close enough. 

A lot of extra rice.

the one where Kon's soulmark is fake:

“That’s so lame!” Bart gripes. Tim looks exasperated, Cissie looks dubious, Cassie looks disappointed, Suzie looks confused, and Kon is just praying that none of them are going to ask him any follow-up questions. Like. Ever. Just ever. 

“Listen, you do you, man, it’s just not my thing,” he lies with a shrug, leaning back in his seat and making a show of looking at the movie again. “Also, I can’t imagine why you’d wanna screw me or Rob anyway, some of us need our refractory periods.” 

His refractory period is actually about thirty seconds max and he can definitely come more times than a baseline AMAB human can, but in Bart-time that’s an eternity anyway, he figures. So like, same difference.

“He didn’t say anything about doing anything with either of us,” Robin says, his tone going a little odd. Kon immediately mentally kicks himself, because not even considering that would’ve bought him more leeway here, he’s pretty sure.

“No, I definitely meant we should all make time,” Bart says. “Was that unclear? I didn’t think that was unclear. What’s a refractory period?” 

“In speedster time? A myth, I’m betting,” Kon says wryly, trying to force his heartbeat to calm down again. It’s . . . not going great, to be honest.

[she-karev]

The Announcement (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister Wedding Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy                                                                   

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 17 Episode 17

AN: Happy Holidays guys I Just finished the wedding arc and I am ready to post. The next two chapters will be released daily so watch out for continuations of the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Like and reblog below and let me know what you think.

Summary: DeLuca and Amber announce their engagement to their family and friends who are surprised to hear they decided to elope in city hall.

Words: 1866

December 25th, 2020

“Any idea why they insisted we all be here?” Maya Bishop asks Alex Karev.

“No clue.” Alex replies with Jo right next to him as they sit at the dining room table of their house with their guests Maya Bishop and her wife Carina DeLuca. The reason for this meeting is unclear to them as they received a message from their respective siblings Andrew DeLuca and Amber Karev saying they needed to have an emergency meeting.

Jackson Avery and his partner, April Kepner, enter the dining room with Jackson carrying milk and sugar and April carrying a tray with 6 mugs of coffee. They all grab a mug and stir in their concoctions.

“Maybe they got us all gifts.” April says hopefully with Jo scoffing in disbelief.

“She’s a third-year resident and he’s a first year attending working during a pandemic.” Jo reminds her friend, “As much as I would like them to, they can’t afford gifts for all of us especially since they bought a house.”

“She’s got a point babe.” Jackson stirs the crème in his coffee, “Knowing Amber she probably has news or a new relationship dilemma that requires all of our wisdom. Maybe DeLuca’s getting deported.”

Carina rolls her eyes, “Oh stop it, he’s not leaving the country.”

“So you know why we’re all here then?” Alex asks the sister of the man dating his sister.

“I have no idea, nessuna.”

“What she said.” Maya supports sipping her coffee before the door opens and the couple they are waiting for greets them all with hello’s and smiles. The group looks confused by this happy display that is expected from Andrew but from Amber it is a surprise.

“Okay, we are all here.” Jackson states wanting to get answers, “You told us to be here because you have an announcement so what is it? I need to celebrate Christmas with my child and mother before I head back to Boston tomorrow.”

Amber smiles and turns to her fiancé who has a grin on his face, “Do you want to tell them?”

“Nope this is all you bella.”

“Are you sure?”

“Guys! What is it?” Alex asks in slight frustration.

“Okay I’ll do it. Here it goes.” Amber inhales deeply with a grin before lifting her hand up showing the engagement ring on her wedding finger in full view, “Andrew proposed to me this morning and I said yes, were getting married!”

Alex and Jackson look astonished and wide eyed before the women smile and congratulate the couple standing up. Carina laughs in joy hugging her brother while Jo hugs Amber and gasps at the sight of the ring with April and Maya by her sides looking at the diamond in wonder as well.

“Wow Andrew knows how to pick his rock.” Maya comments with a smile before looking at her future sister-in-law, “Congratulations, welcome to the family.”

Maya hugs Amber who grins, “Thank you.” Amber turns the men who all stand up and approach her with grins on their faces happy for them as well. Alex approaches her with a smile before giving her a bear hug and stepping back still smiling.

“It feels like only yesterday you were telling me you were gonna marry Alf from that stupid sitcom you were obsessed with when you were 10.” Alex says in nostalgia with Amber chuckling remembering that as well, “And now you getting married to an actual human, one who is a little bit good enough for you.”

Andrew grins knowing Alex is saying this as a protective older brother, “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”

Amber holds his hand with a smile, “Keep in mind this guy is about to be your brother-in-law so if you want to pull out now the car is right out front.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Andrew responds without hesitation.

Amber grins cradling her lover’s cheek and giving him a peck on the lips, “You really do love me.” Andrew grins back at his fiancé.

April furrows her eyebrows in confusion, “Wait wasn’t Alf an alien with brown fur and a long trunk for a nose?”

Amber turns to the group with a shrug, “Yeah, I was a really weird kid.”

“Was?” Jackson teases with a chuckle that causes Amber to grin at him sarcastically before he hugs Amber too, “Anyway congratulations you two. I say this as a good friend when I say you two are made for each other.”

Amber smiles at her friend pulling back from the hug before he looks directly at DeLuca with a threatening face, “And I say this to you as a person who loves Amber about as much as Alex. DeLuca if you hurt her, I’ll be on the first plane out of Boston and destroy you along with her.”

“Please refrain from scaring him until after I get him to say I do.” Amber warns her best friend before April steps in with a wide smile.

“Speaking of which, have you two set a date yet?” April asks excited to have a wedding to attend to after the year they have all had, “Next spring? Next summer? Next fall?”

“Tomorrow at 7” Andrew tells them.

The women exclaim in shock at that short time with April leading the panic, “That is not enough time to plan a bridal shower, a bachelorette party, a very tasty cake with your initials on it. I already have your wedding invitations laid out in my head.”

“We’re not gonna do a big wedding.” Amber explains, “we’ve made an appointment for city hall tomorrow. And invitations are not necessary. I hate big crowds and the six of you there are all the people we and the cautious court system need. Weddings are just for the guests anyway.”

“And we agreed to leave an actual wedding with her whole family and mine for after this pandemic ends.” Andrew explains holding Amber’s hand, “The only condition is we don’t put all of our crazy relatives in one table. Me and Carina learned that when our mom stabbed our father at our cousins wedding.”

Carina nods with a grin, “Yes the DeLuca’s don’t have a great track record with weddings.”

“Funny neither do the Karev’s.” Jo recounts with a chuckle remembering her and Alex’s disastrous wedding.

“Yeah, whatever disaster strikes at your wedding kid it’s not gonna top ours trust me.” Alex says amused.

“Why do you think we’re doing a speedy courthouse ceremony?” Amber points out knowing her’s and her fiancé’s chaotic family wedding history. She turns to Maya to confirm her brother’s statement, “Trust me nothing can beat the catastrophe that was the Jolex wedding of June 9th, 2018.”

“Oh really?” Maya asked feeling competitive as usual, “I got demoted at my wedding because of my best friend’s power-hungry drug addict husband and a douche who thinks handlebar mustaches are still trending.”

“Childs play.” Alex dismisses with an eye roll, “My wife got us locked in a shed with a corpse while our wedding planner almost died of an allergy attack.”

“It’s true.” Carina confirms to her wife, “I know, I was there when it happened.”

“I kicked down the shed door.” Andrew recaps.

“I was there when he did it.” Amber supports.

“And I criked the wedding planner with a pinwheel.” April recaps her side of that day with a prideful grin.

“And I helped her.” Jackson states lastly wrapping his arm around April leaving Maya stumped for a moment before responding.

“Okay you win.” Carina chuckles kissing her wife’s cheek before Jackson goes back to the subject.

“So, you’re gonna elope? I highly recommend it as someone else who hates planning.” Jackson sees the glare April gives him for supporting them in their hasty wedding, “What? We got married at a spur of the moment too and we ended up great…after a very messy divorce but still.”

“Are you guys sure about this?” Alex asks out of concern, “I mean we have no problem waiting for a real wedding when things start to calm down. Operation Warp Speed is in the final stages and vaccines are out next month. What’s the rush?”

“Hmm let me think.” Amber starts sarcastically, “There’s immigration problems that basically deported my future sister-in-law, a worldwide pandemic that is affecting all of us, wildfires that could reach here, murder hornets, PTSD and let’s not forget the time my fiancé was almost murdered trying to stop a human trafficker. Do any of those answer your question brother?”

The group look awkward at that dark recap with Alex pursing his lips feeling like a fool before retracting his question, “City Hall is nice this time of year, just make sure you mail in the license.”

Jo chuckles remembering when she and Alex forgot to do that before their wedding, “Yes that is very important trust me as someone who had a Halloween courthouse wedding to rectify it.”

“I’m a control freak by nature so that won’t be an issue.” Amber states before laying out the plan, “Our appointment with Judge Carmichael is at 7 so that gives us enough time tomorrow to get a tux and a wedding dress. Just because I hate big weddings doesn’t mean I’m gonna slum it in a white slip or blouse. Mama is gonna feel like a princess for once.”

“You are a very contradicting woman you know that?” April asks feeling like she will never fully figure our Amber.

“Why do you think I’m marrying her?” Andrew asks with a grin before turning to the men, “You guys have done this before, twice for you Alex. Can you come with me to pick out a tux tomorrow?”

“Why not?” Alex shrugs, “My daughter is still in the hospital and regular holiday parties are discouraged so I’m free. Avery?”

“Well it’s either join you or spend the day with my mother before I leave for Boston.” Jackson contemplates his choices for a second, “Tux shopping it is.”

“Great.” Amber claps her hands with a smile turning to Jo, April, Maya and Carina, “I have three rules when we go shopping. I will not wear a veil on my head, tiaras are for the Royal family and cosplayers, and I will not be seen with a bow on my ass.”

“Huh not even a day and she’s going full bridezilla.” Jo says amused.

“I grew up with three sisters, this is nothing trust me.” April informs the women before turning to Jackson, “I’ll handle your mother in case she badgers us, I’ll tell her our good friends needed to get married after the hellish year they have had.”

“You are the best.” Jackson kisses her cheek, “Speaking of which we should probably head back over there, Harriet is excited for the gingerbread making contest.”

“Oh yeah we gotta go she really wants to beat Grandpa Richard.” April and Jackson move to leave before turning to the couple, “Text us where to meet you, congratulations again.”

“Congratulations, can’t wait for the big day.” Jackson follows April out the door leaving the others to mingle with Amber and Andrew smiling in anticipation for their big day.

[dyns33]

The God of Nightmares

A little Dark Morpheus x Reader. Not proud of this one, but still posting it. 

Her parents had never been very clear about why Y/N couldn't go out.

Yes, they had told her about the "monster", the God of dreams, with whom they had had a "problem", and who wanted to kill them all and take her, but it wasn't really very clear at the end.

When she was a child, she hadn't asked questions.

Y/N had seen the tall, dark figure through the windows, she had heard the whispers in the dark, she had had strange dreams, and it had all scared her.

There had been the time when she had been sleepwalking, approaching the front door, and it was her father who had grabbed her before she opened it. Since that incident, they locked her in her bedroom when she was going to sleep.

It wasn't easy for her, being locked in the house all day, and in her bedroom at night.

But it was for her own good, the good of the family, the good of the whole world.

When she was ten years old, her mother had taken her hands and tried to be a little clearer about their situation. Especially because Y/N kept having a lot of questions, not understanding why she was the only one who wasn't allowed to go outside.

           "A long time ago, your grandfather's grandfather made a mistake. He met the master of nightmares who ordered him to give him the first daughter born in the family, otherwise the whole universe would fall in a eternal sleep. Frightened, the man accepted, but only had boys, who in turn only had boys, and that until you were born. But it had been centuries, and we didn't want to lose you, so we asked a powerful witch for help. The house is protected, and he can't come in without permission. As you can imagine, it didn't please the King of Dreams, who swore to kill us all as soon as he gets you. Then you mustn't go out, ever."

           "... But he could hurt you too when you go outside."

           "No, he's not allowed to. He needs to have you first."

           "I don't understand anything. And I thought I had no right to imagine things."

           "Indeed, why do you say… Oh, yes, I told you to imagine. Forgive me dear, you're right."

           "He and I are not allowed to do many things. But why did he ask my grandfather's grandfather for his daughter ?"

           "It's late, you should go to sleep. Dreamless sleep, promise me."

Y/N didn't answer, just going to her room, followed by her parents who locked the door as soon as she was inside.

It was all really unclear, and the few dreams she had weren't helping. Because even if the figure in the street was frightening, surrounded by ravens and his shining eyes staring at the house, there was nothing terrifying in hers dreams.

This rarely happened, no doubt because of the protection of the witch, and the prohibition of her parents to develop her imagination, but it happened that Y/N heard stories, stole a book, hid behind the sofa to listen the television, and then she couldn't help dreaming of another life, outside, where she would be free and happy.

This was what she continued to dream of during the night, finding herself near a lake, or in a garden, near a huge palace, where several creatures greeted her with a friendly smile, saying that they were glad to meet her.

Y/N did not see the King of Dreams for several years however, not until she became an adult. He had left her with calm and peaceful nights, only showing up at the door of her house. But he seemed to be losing patience after all this time.

           "My love, why do you let them treat you like this ?" he asked her one night, meeting her in a wonderful forest.

           "You. Don't come any closer !"

           "You can run but it would be useless, we are in my kingdom and I will find you everywhere. I am not trying to scare you though. I just want to talk to you."

           "You want to take me and kill my parents."

           "Oh, I certainly don't have any affection for your family after what they did to me, but if you ask me, I won't kill them."

           "... Really ?"

           "Really, my love. They have a debt to pay, and the rules are the rules. I can't leave until this story is over, and it won't be over until you let me in."

           "Why are you calling me that ?"

The Master of nightmares didn't answer her, just smiling at her, a sweet and sincere smile.

The next day, Y/N dared to ask her parents if there was a way to convince the terrible God to spare them. Maybe he would listen and be lenient. He could probably understand that people who hadn't asked for anything didn't want to abandon their daughter.

The question enraged them, her mother asking her if she had lost her mind, while her father grabbed her to shake her, yelling at her not to think such things, before ordering her to go to her room, where she was locked up all day.

Her only companion was a little raven who stayed at the window as she cried, but unable to get in, since she couldn't open it either.

There was another dream, during which the king asked her again why she let her family treat her so cruelly.

           "They cut you off from the dream world, my love, but they also cut you off from the waking world. It's not healthy, it's not normal. I see how unhappy you are. I regret having you put in such a situation. My brother had sworn to me that if I asked a companion to the man who offered me a pact, I would be happy, but he seems to have been wrong, for the first time."

           "The man who offered you a pact ?"

           "Don't you know, my love ? Of course not. They lied about that too, so you would distrust me. I can imagine what they told you. One of your ancestors found me when I was in a delicate situation, and he offered to help me. In exchange for his help, I offered him good luck. But he asked for more, he wanted the certainty that he and his descendants would lack for nothing, so in exchange for my favours and my protection, I asked for the hand of the first daughter of his family. When I had my betrothed, my benefits would no longer be assured, although they would continue to be lucky. He agreed on the terms, but the day you were born, your parents thought they didn't want to lose everything, so they locked you away from me. I now want to take you, make you my queen, but also to punish them, for not having respected our pact, but especially for all that they did to you."

Not knowing if she could believe him, Y/N asked him to leave her alone, which he did, bowing to her.

For several nights, she had no dreams, until she called him. Then the king of dreams ran to her, smiling enchantingly, and answering all her questions without the slightest embarrassment.

No, the world had nothing to fear from him. No, they wouldn't kill her parents if that was her wish. No, he wouldn't force her to stay with him if she preferred to leave, he just wanted her to be free, and to be able to see her sing, dance and smile in the middle of a meadow, lit by the sun.

And he was not a God. He was an Endless, Dream of the Endless. Morpheus.

Again, there remained the possibility that he was a liar. Her parents had always told her that he was a liar, that he was dangerous, and that he would do anything to get her out or let him in.

But from the beginning he had been the only one to treat her with respect and kindness. To worry about her happiness, to ask her what she wanted, to say that this situation was not normal.

The only one who apologized.

Y/N therefore found the courage to talk to her family again, in order to find a suitable solution.

           "I think it would be really possible to talk to him, and in exchange he won't hurt anyone."

           "You still say stupid things." growled her father.

           "No. Morpheus may not be as monstrous as you think, he'll let you go, he'll even let me go, this can all have a good ending, we can all..."

           "How... How did you call him ?" her mother asked in a shaky voice. "You talked to him. You listened to him. You let him hex you, and now you want to kill us all ! Do you think he'll leave us ?! Either you're crazy or you're stupid !"

           "We won't let you ruin everything ! You won't come out, you hear ?! You won't come out, even if we have to force you to."

Frightened by her parents' fury, Y/N took refuge in the cellar, in a dark corner where no one could find her. There, she had some time to think.

There had been something in her father's and mother's eyes, something dangerous, dark, and she had understood that they weren't necessarily talking about locking her in her room again to prevent her from going out.

If she died, they wouldn't have a problem.

A part of her refused to believe that they could commit such a crime, and yet they had lied to her since birth, only to keep the blessings Morpheus had granted them. Even though he had agreed to give them a little luck, which would be enough to have a good life.

She had to get out of this house, quickly.

Making as little noise as possible, she went back into the kitchen, hearing her parents who were still looking for her upstairs, and she slipped to the front door. The key had been left on a piece of furniture, no one imagining that she would think to open it, and no one fearing that the Master of dreams could enter, thanks to the magical protection.

As soon as the door was opened, Y/N found herself face to face with Morpheus, who seemed to know perfectly well what had happened.

           "Will you let me in to punish them ? Or do you still wish to spare them, just to come with me ?"

           "I... I don't know."

           "Matthew saw everything. He heard them, plotting against you, talking about hiding your body. Let me in, my love. Even if I don't kill them, I have to punish them for what they did."

           "Who is Matthew ?"

           "My raven. He always stayed close, to tell me if you were safe."

           "I don't care what you do, but I would love a hug."

Morpheus only had to take a step and open his cloak that contained the universe to take her in his arms. It was the first time someone had hugged her, and Y/N closed her eyes, hugging him back, as her parents arrived, screaming in terror at the sight of the scene.

They screamed again, as Morpheus waved a hand in their direction, but Y/N paid no attention, feeling at last where she belonged, surrounded by love and warmth. A kiss placed on her forehead, she then found herself in front of a castle, where several creatures greeted her as their queen.

           "I'm dreaming ?" she asked shyly.

           "Yes and no, my love. You are in my kingdom. Our kingdom. Come."

           "I thought I could go and be free if I asked to ?"

           "Come." he repeated simply taking her hand, leading her to the throne.

And then Y/N wondered if she was dreaming, or if she was having a nightmare.

[sarsaparilla-springs]

New Idea: Wild Kratts X Severance AU

!SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR THE TV SHOW SEVERANCE!

I’ve been thinking about this for a while now…but a Wild Kratts x Severance AU. I recently watched Severance with my brother awhile ago.

If you’re not familiar, it’s a fantastic Sci-Fi Thriller series about a company that inserts a chip into one’s brain that allows you to separate your memories into two different versions of yourself depending on whether you’re outside of work (called your ‘outie’) or whether you’re inside of work (your ‘innie’). You’re the same person, but both versions have no memories of the other, and to both it feels like a blink when you’re suddenly back to work again or back at home.

I thought it may be interesting to apply to WK with the ‘What If?’ Moment where they jump into the animation?

Imagine…

Chris Kratt just waking up as usual one morning, just as he’s always known with his brother Martin and the Tortuga Crew

They’ve been adventuring together for what seems like years gone by in seconds, but it’s been some good years with the crew!

He can’t actually recall how he gets here, how he met everyone other than Martin and Zach. Him and Martin are self aware to the fact that they’re teaching the importance of animal conservation and learning about animals to the younger generation in his world and the real world even though they’ve only experienced their current existence, but it’s unclear to him exactly what the Tortuga team’s ultimate goal is after awhile—haven’t the power suits been tested enough?

It’s not until the crew starts bringing up about the ‘other place’ that he and Martin seem to disappear to after missions—not that Chris knows where that is either, but shouldn’t he know if he goes there everyday…?

Martin seems contented and only throws in an occasional playful reference to what they must be doing in another time and place, but doesn’t push it further since he doesn’t worry about it too much. Chris however…

He can’t stop thinking about it. It’s in his mind more and more as he wonders about the unknown side of him that’s just living his life and Chris has no idea. The outer Chris could be living a totally different life…maybe he had a wife and family? Maybe the outer Chris was completely different than who he was?

That’s the in-universe reason why he knows some basic things about his existence (his brother Martin, where he was born, his love of animals, about Wild Kratts being a TV show for a place far different than here) but he has no clue in-universe about any wife and kids, that his outer self writes the story of his very life—his memories are totally separated from the Real Chris’s memories except for a few basic things.

Suddenly creature adventuring starts to be insufficient to satisfy Chris’s curiosity—He tries desperately to remember what goes on after they finish a mission, but he only remembers waking back up in his sleeping bag in the Tortuga the next morning…

Until finally he enlists Aviva to assist him to be conscious of himself going back to the ‘real world’ as crazy as it sounds…maybe he’ll finally know the kind of life the Chris on the outside lives, to be more than what the Outer Chris planned for him to be

I imagine Aviva, Koki, Jimmy Z and the villains don’t know about this—the only two people that know about this Inner/Outer thing is Chris and Martin.

The Outer Chris and Martin in the real world know the storyboards and scripts of Wild Kratts but not the actual feelings of seeking identity like Inner Chris would feel. Same person, different memories, different reaction based off of Chris’s curiosity to know more that would drive him to try and be sentient in the outer world

No brain surgery like the TV show, just an interesting idea to explain the jump between reality and animation

[savagewildnerness]

Very split opinion at the moment! Please note I am *only* talking about the meeting at the end of IWTV here. I am not taking about every detail of it (for example I can’t see a world in which Lestat was capable of making fledglings at this time! But that was surely only an assumption on Louis’ part anyway! Lestat himself did say young vampires would sometimes seek him out! And Louis is always a massive assumer, for example assuming he knows other’s thoughts & motivations when they haven’t told him what they’re actually thinking or feeling & so Louis - therefore you don’t *know*!!)

I mean Armand (as he would!) is literally giving Lestat visions at this time. I’m just particularly curious about this moment as most moments in the books it’s pretty clear the general vibe of how things truly were.

However I’d say this visit from Louis to Lestat is not clear if it happened at all, or, if it happened how similar it was to how Louis describes it. And certainly (as this poll attests to!) not all readers agree on the matter! Which makes me wonder what Rolin & everyone think about the truth of it!!?! Which makes me wonder what will be on TV!!?! ?! What do the writers think about this? What do Sam & Jacob think?!

Either way, I don’t fully understand why *this* is the moment Lestat is bothered about in the future! And to be noted he *isn’t* bothered about specifically & overtly discrediting it in the first book he writes.

Louis often paints Lestat as an awful caricature of himself in IWTV for literally hundreds of pages, not seeing or at least not conveying if he felt something of them any of the true thoughts or feelings in Lestat’s mind.

Yet it’s this moment where Louis actually humanises Lestat, yet also makes him pitiable & vulnerable Lestat takes objection to? What is it Lestat hates so? It can’t be his vulnerability as he describes himself this exact same vulnerable way in this time with Armand EXCEPT that in Lestat’s version he never begs Armand. In Lestat’s version he’d never beg anyone for any thing.

But we know from his self-descriptions that Lestat does have a deep desperation within him. He often feels utterly lost. He often feels utterly alone. He (with good reason) fears abandonment & feels abandoned & indeed he often is abandoned or at least emotionally abandoned. He describes this terrifying need & loneliness within himself even as a mortal child. So it’s NO stretch at all to imagine Lestat begging Louis as Louis describes it.

I personally don’t think the meeting having happened takes anything away from the later Loustat reunion. It only adds poignancy to me. I think it’s much stranger if Louis does indeed go to New Orleans but doesn’t see Lestat & I’d have to ask how on Earth that could happen!?!

And definitely the most strange scenario would be how Lestat describes it - that Louis sees him through a window & that’s all, but Armand visits him over & over such that he’s unclear how often it was…!!?!?!?! That’s way odder & also would be way colder of Louis in my opinion!!?!

The only way I can wrangle Louis being in New Orleans but never seeing Lestat at all in my mind is by something like Armand using his powers to not let Louis find Lestat. Which could absolutely be the case on TV. But I feel it’d be more explicit were that the case in the books…??? At least it would be alluded to some way, when it isn’t.

A final note: On Louis saying he’s never seen Lestat weep. If Lestat isn’t weeping over some thing every 5 minutes (as Lestat uses supposedly to discredit Louis), what on Earth can we believe of Lestat’s words! No! I believe Lestat *is* emotional, is always weeping (metaphorically sometimes, but often also literally!) I think the TOTBT argument is just a petty little spat in which Louis is trying to stop Lestat from doing something really stupid rather than being about them delving into the Absolute Truth of this past moment & I believe that encounter happened & I believe Lestat doesn’t like it being told because it makes him so pitiable AND I believe he doesn’t like it being told because it’s totally triggering that Louis, his love, abandoned him in this moment of Lestat’s desperation, just like everyone else in his life. In Lestat’s mind, Louis is a perfect: beautiful version of himself. For all their struggles, Louis is a Romanticised ideal Lestat could at any time return home to (Lestat Romanticised Nicki in a similar way once upon a time. But Louis is that times a million - Lestat’s Romantic Totem to All Eternity!)

If Louis visited a broken Lestat as he describes in IWTV & abandoned him, it shatters the Romantic ideal of Louis, Lestat needs. Usually if there’s drama, Lestat can (with full reason 😂) blame himself 😂🤣😅🤣… or he can blame someone else (not that he’s one for blaming others for any thing), but if Louis just left Lestat here, it’s Louis abandoning Lestat’s gaping, dying heart & that pain is surely too much for Lestat?

As I see it, there’s way more reason for Lestat to block the idea this ever happened from his mind (and Lestat wasn’t in his right mind for certain at that time on top of this! So it’s easy to imagine his memory being not entirely accurate too) than there is for Louis to have invented the literal resolution of his book…?? And to have somehow invented this resolution that never happened while simultaneously actually describing Lestat completely accurately according to how Lestat describes he was in this time too!!?! If it never happened, how does Louis know!?! He wouldn’t imagine Lestat this way from how he’s described him in the rest of his recollection..!

[lilian-draconia]

!!Twst Incorrect quotes!! Except I throw mine and @simping-myjob's yuusona in the mix (warning: long post) ☁☁☁ Lilian: Sora... How do I begin to explain Sora? Lilia: Sora is flawless Malleus: I hear her hair's insured for 10 000 thaumarks. Silver: I hear he does blastcycle commercials... In the scalding sands. Sebek: One time they punched me in the face... It was awesome. ☁☁☁ Sebek: Nothing is free. Lilian: Love is free! Lilia: Adventure is free. Malleus: Knowledge is free. Sora: Everything is free if you take it without paying. ☁☁☁ Silver: What does 'take out' mean? Lilia: Food. Lilian: Dating Sora: Murder. Sebek: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD!! ☁☁☁ Malleus: Goodbye, Child of a Man. Goodbye, Sora. Goodbye, Lilia. Goodbye, Silver. Goodbye, Child of a Man. Lilia: You said 'Goobye, Child of a Man' twice. Malleus: I like Child of a Man. ☁☁☁ *When Lilian arrives to Twisted wonderland for the first time* Lilian: Well, aren't you all a rag-tag group of adventurers with unclear goals and good hearts! Oh, let me guess: you're out to save the world! Sora: Well, actually, that sounds like a pretty fair assessment. Ace: more or less, i guess kalim:that sounds awesome! let's do that! Jack: I'm new here, but I am open to the concept. Deuce: I thought that's what we were doing, guys, come on! ☁☁☁ *Lilian walks into the ramshackle.* Lilian: Hello, people who do not live here. Sebek: hey Silver: hi Malleus: Hello Lilia: Hey! Lilian: I gave you the key for emergencies only! Sora: They were out of doritoes. ☁☁☁ Lilian: what's something you guys are better than Malleus at? Sora: Mario kart Lilia: video games, yeah Silver: emotional vulnerability. ☁☁☁ Silver: Good responses to getting stabbed with a knife? Lilian: Rude Sora: that's fair Lilia: not again. Malleus: are you going to want this back? ☁☁☁ Lilian: You wanna see how hardcore I am? Lilian: *punches wall* Lilian: ... Lilian: take me to the hospital ☁☁☁ Lilian: Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety so... ☁☁☁ Sora: Okay okay, stop asking me if i'm straight, gay, bi, whatever. I identify as a THREAT. ☁☁☁ Silver: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later. ☁☁☁ Silver: physically, yes, i could fight a bird. But emotionally? imagine the toll. ☁☁☁ Lilian: goodnight moon Lilian: goodnight tree Lilian: *looks at the mouse silhouette in the mirror* goodnight ghost that only I can see ☁☁☁ Lilian: I've already sent good vibes your way... they're coming. there's nothing you can do to stop them. Sora: this is the most threatening way i've been cheered up. ☁☁☁ Sora: I have so much energy, I want to run a marathon or commit a crime... which should I do? Lilian: Please don’t get arrested. Sora: No promises! <3 Lilia: Why not both? Get creative! Sora: Wonderful suggestion, thank you. Lilian: Please don’t encourage them. ☁☁☁ Lilian: Please, Sora, after everything we’ve been through together. You can’t do this. Sora: I’m sorry Lilian. Lilian: I’m begging you. Don’t do it. Sora: It has to be done. Lilian: Sora: Lilian: Sora: *Places +4* Uno. ☁☁☁ Sora, wearing shades: Rule one of destroying the world. Sora: *does finger guns* You gotta look good while doing it. ☁☁☁ Malleus: What's the scariest horror movie you've ever watched? Lilia: IT. Sora: Annabelle. Silver: Paranormal Activity. Lilian: High School Musical. All throughout high school I was scared that everyone was gonna randomly get up and start singing and dancing, and I would be the only one who doesn't know the words. ☁☁☁

[oohnotvery]

Wherever Is Your Heart (Chapter 3)

A breakfast of toast and coffee helps soothe her stomach some, and an aspirin does the trick for her headache, but nothing can stop the anxious pounding of her heart.

She debates calling Mulder. Her brain tries to come up with a million reasons why it’s not as bad as it seems. Maybe he was drunk too and doesn’t remember much of it. Maybe she didn’t say or do all of the things she thinks she said and did. Maybe it was all just a horrendous nightmare, and she cabbed home by herself and then had a very vivid dream about trying to seduce Mulder.

Mulder.

Oh . . . god. Her one and only friend, her partner, her family. All of that, ruined in one terrible, mortifying stretch of evening.

Simply put, he told her no. Whether that was because she was drunk or because he simply didn’t want her, she fears she’ll never truly know.

For the millionth time since Melissa’s death, Scully wishes she could talk to her sister. To ask her what to do about this heartbreak, this humiliation, this rejection, this mortification.

How can she and Mulder possibly continue on after this? Every time he looks at her from now on, she’ll see his pity, his rejection, his secondhand embarrassment for her. Things will never be the same.

All morning, she debates calling him and apologizing. Really, that needs to be her first step. She acted out of line and if she wants any chance at salvaging the relationship, a properly worded phone call will do the trick.

But she can’t bring herself to dial his number. She raises the receiver three times and slams it down three more times, unsure how to do this. How does one even begin to apologize for sexually harassing one’s coworker?

She’s standing by the phone debating her next move when it rings. She has the receiver to her ear before she can psych herself out of not answering.

“Scully,” she answers, digging her nails into her palm nervously.

But it’s not him. It’s her mother, triple-checking that they’re still on for Christmas Day. The tears that spring across her eyelashes at her mother’s voice surprise her.

“Dana?” her mother asks after a period of silence. “Is everything alright?”

Scully sniffs discreetly and wipes at her tears. “Everything is fine,” she promises as cheerfully as she can manage. She clears her throat. “I have a bit of a cold.”

She cringes at the lie, sinking deeper into the unenviable realm of self-hatred. It’s unclear whether Maggie Scully buys the fib or not, and they spend another few minutes on the phone hashing out the details of who’s supplying which pie.

Towards the end of their call, there’s another long pause that makes Scully grow fidgety.

“You know Dana,” her mother begins gently, “you can always talk to me if something’s bothering you. I know after Melissa died, you not only lost a sister, but a confidante.” Both women fall silent, and Scully imagines her mom wiping away tears of her own. Her mother’s voice is raspier when she speaks again. “But you can always talk to me.”

“Thanks, mom,” she manages to reply, her voice pitching higher with emotion.

After that, Scully takes a break from waiting by the phone. She tidies up her apartment, fixes herself a second coffee, and flips through a few magazines. But her mind keeps wandering.

Maybe Mulder will call to ask how she’s doing. Maybe he’ll call and broach the subject first, telling her it’s all forgotten, all okay. We never have to mention it again, he’ll say cheerfully after a few below-the-belt jokes.

In the end, the phone doesn’t ring again. She starts to wonder when exactly he left. Was it right after she threw up? Or did he wait til morning? And when did it get too much for him that he needed to physically remove himself from her space?

Her heart cracks open at the thought of their partnership floundering under this new embarrassment. She does not think she can carry on, not like this. It’s one thing to drunkenly ask someone for a romp in the hay. It’s another thing altogether to say I love you. That’s the part that hurts the most, the baring of her naked soul.

She tries to put herself in Mulder’s shoes. What would she do if he had gotten drunk, tried to seduce her, and told her he loved her? Well, it would be a very welcome change of pace, that’s for certain. If Mulder put his feelings out in the world so blatantly, she wouldn’t have left his apartment in the middle of the night. No, she would have stayed there so that in the morning, she could reassure him of her love.

But he hasn’t even called or checked in. He hasn’t even bothered trying to tell her that all is well. The cold, hard facts to which she so faithfully clings are a painful pill to swallow: he’s trying to distance himself from her.

Sunday passes in a blur of headaches, stomachaches, and reeling thoughts. She stays up half the night nervously wondering how Monday will be. She practices her speech. She will apologize, because that must come first. She will then ask him to please forget it ever happened.

But every time she gets to that part of her speech, a part of her starts to fantasize that he stops her in her tracks. “It was embarrassing, yeah,” he will admit with a slightly goofy smile, “but I actually feel the same way.” A very secret, very private part of her starts to hope that this will all turn out for the best in the end. And maybe this was just the first horrifying, awkward step in their realizing their feelings for each other.

It is on that wing and a prayer that she enters the office on Monday. Mulder is already at his desk spinning a pen between his fingers. With hope and bravery twin companions in her heart, she walks up to him and clears her throat. He swivels expectantly and she watches his face closely for a sign. But he just looks at her the way he always does—kind interest, open expression.

“Hey, Scully,” he greets her, and it’s so normal she almost falters.

She swipes at her upper lip as her cheeks turn pink under his gaze. “Can we talk?”

He sucks in his cheeks for a minute and then stands, nodding. She turns and shuts the door quietly behind her. The room is suddenly too constricting.

He leans hipshot against his desk and she twists her fingers uncomfortably. “I wanted to apologize,” she starts, the beginning of the rehearsed speech. “For what I did Saturday night. As I hope you know, after almost five years of working together, it was extremely out of character for me. Although there’s no excuse, I was intoxicated and I’d really like to just forget it—”

He nods a little and before she can continue, holds up a hand. “It’s okay, yeah? No harm, no foul.”

He’s playing it really cool, which she partially expected. She holds her breath for a moment, waiting for him to say something else. It wasn’t that your advances were unwanted; I just didn’t want to take advantage of you, he might say.  

“Thank you,” she finally says when it’s clear he’s done speaking.

“Alright,” he says with an eager look, “back to it?”

She is dumbfounded, stunned into silence. That’s it? That’s all they’re going to say about the absolute disaster that was Saturday night? She was half-expecting him to at least make a bad joke. And at the very most, she was hoping he would admit that her feelings were mutual. In stupefaction, she just nods.

They get called out to Washington State later that day and Mulder is booking them next-day flights before she can even wrap her head around the trip. She doesn’t know how to manage close quarters with him after the humiliation of their weekend, and starts to wonder if she should back out of it altogether.

She’s in the breakroom pouring coffee when she sees it. A woman—someone she’s never seen before—pulling Mulder into a private conference room. He sits down in a chair and the woman leans onto the conference table beside him, her hips touching his shoulders. They look comfortable together. Easy. Familiar.

The woman laughs at something he says with a pretty smile and Mulder grins. Her blonde hair swishes across a designer blazer and Scully watches in horror as Mulder taps the woman on the knee. Her bare knee. It’s so intimate that Scully overpours her coffee and curses as scalding liquid burns her hand.

It hits her all at once. Whatever hope she was carrying that maybe things weren’t so bad is now gone. Mulder wasn’t just rejecting her out of gentlemanly concern for her state of mind; he was rejecting her because he has no interest in her like that. She humiliated herself for him. She tried to seduce him and failed. And he rejected her.

Their professional partnership, she slowly realizes as she makes her way over to her desk, isn’t the only thing that matters to her. It’s him. It’s the personal connection with him. And that is being ground to dust before her eyes.

Scully lingers in the break room for a long time, wishing she could hear what they were discussing, wondering who this pretty blonde agent is. When ten minutes have passed, she gives up and heads back down to the basement, feeling defeated and on edge. 

At five p.m., she makes her decision. She will not go on the trip. She sends Mulder a short email, embedding in it a lie that he will or won’t believe—I’m too sick. Go without me. She hasn’t called out sick in years. Not even during her cancer.

The rest of the week passes without Mulder. They barely talk. There’s no reason to communicate across the distance. It feels healthy, almost, without him here. He doesn’t want her in the way she wants him, and the pain of that realization is easier to bear when she’s not face-to-face with his handsome jawline and disarming humor.

When he returns to the office on Friday, as chipper and unbothered as he had seemed on Monday, Scully makes a decision. She will not pine for him; she will not waste time on love unrequited. It’s time to move on.

[8bitsupervillain]

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 7 Minagoroshi pt. 18

Should I refer to these as Watanagashi hijinks, since it’s after midnight and all? Guess that’s the age old question isn’t it, is it actually a new day when twelve midnight rolls around? Or is it only a new day when you go to sleep and wake up?

Considering their plan is literally called Operation Doomsday what really does it matter if the time of death for Miyo Takano doesn’t quite add up? I wonder why the people in charge of the research into Hinamizawa Syndrome decided Tomitake had to die? Was it just a cover so they could pin the suspicion on Irie and the Irie Clinic, or was there some deeper motive to taking him out? Is it really just the rogue element of those in charge of the entire operation, financially and otherwise, just decided they wanted to take out members of the other faction? Such speculation unfortunately will have to remain that way for the foreseeable future, I don’t recall if they ever bring up Tomitake, and the motives behind his death for the remainder of the chapter.

I also don’t know if they really delve into what the eighteen specific classified documents Takano was meant to secure are. I think it’s fair to assume that they’re to do with the research into Hinamizawa Syndrome that she and Irie had compiled in the years they’d been running the institute. But again I’m not sure if they ever really go into specifics in this chapter. I think it’s just the body of research they’d made over the past few years, but I don’t remember specifically at the moment.

Since the Mountain Dogs/Takano are responsible for propagating the myth of Oyashiro I do wonder if this means they are the ones responsible for the disappearance of Satoshi. Also if they’re the ones behind it all, does that mean that they actually killed Tamae Houjou? It stands to reason since Takano at the very least is behind trying to spread the legend of Oyashiro that would explain how Rika’s dad died of a “mysterious disease.” She mentions when she injected Tomitake that there’s a chance at the highest levels of infection with H173 that he could become disabled for life. It doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s a terminal infection that shuts down one or more major organs, but there’s a chance that’s what it could do.

My theory now is that Takano, and the Mountain Dogs, are responsible for at least three of the five years worth of Watanagashi killings/disappearances. There’s proof that the first killing was just a drunken argument that escalated far beyond reasonability. The only year I’m not certain on is the second years sacrifices of Satoko and Satoshi’s parents. It makes sense on paper that they’d be responsible there as well, but I’m just unclear on the motive, or when exactly Takano got control of the Mountain Dogs (due to information read in Chapter Eight: Matsuribayashi I estimate it happened around 1981). Why the Houjous had to goujou makes sense, it’s playing on the long-standing idea that the Houjou family were traitors to Hinamizawa. But again, this is just speculation on my part, I don’t believe it actually gets into the details as yet.

I know that it said Takano wanted to dump the bike along with Tomitake. But I like to imagine she dumped him wherever, drove a bit and got into a comically exaggerated fiasco of getting the bike out of her car before just flinging the damn thing away, going “good enough” and meeting up with her military contacts. Not every thought I have regarding this series is a serious well thought out thing, sometimes I like to imagine the characters having to bumble their way through stupid scenes. Or I’ll have a thought about “which character from another franchise would I imagine stuck in the Hinamizawa time loop?” The only one that really came to mind was Alan Wake, and I can’t really justify why. But at the time I just thought it was hilarious thinking of Alan just waking up being forced to deal with all the goings-on within Hinamizawa and just blasting someone away with his revolver. I should probably finish Alan Wake 2…

I do occasionally wonder if some of these confirmations are only there to make sure everyone is more or less caught up to speed? Based on previous interactions when Ooishi has Irie look at Tomitake’s body, did anyone really believe Irie actually knew nothing? Although, based on Irie’s internal monologue here I can’t help but wonder, when did they make H173? Going off of other information it must have been a relatively recent invention, because up until Takano and Irie started their research on it in earnest it was implied that there wasn’t much to go on in terms of Hinamizawa Syndrome. Just the research journals of Hifumi Takano, and precious little else. I believe they mention it towards the end of the chapter that the Clinic got a hold of the ringleader of the first dam murder, and they were able to do some research on the parasite that way, but I don’t recall them mentioning having a way to weaponize it at that point. So it must have been sometime between 1981 and 82, right? Or maybe I’m just pulling dates and times out of thin air, and I’m entirely off-base.

It’s true, in Meakashi/Watanagashi he does show up and interact more with Shion than he did the others. He also talked with Keiichi a bit, but he tried to get information from Shion after the disappearance of Satoshi Houjou.

I can’t help but wonder, in these timelines when Ooishi suspects Rika, does he actually think Rika did the deed? Or does he think she just ordered someone to carry it out for her? Perhaps maybe she had someone from the Sonozaki group carry it out? Because if it’s the former we all know that alternate universe Tomitake and Takano got away alive because Rika is a terrible assassin.

It sure is a wild coincidence though that Ooishi is instantly overcome with doubt about the situation with Takano and Tomitake. Professional skepticism for the fact that “Takano’s” body was in fact someone who died a day before it was found?

[myriadparacosm]

Enchanté - I. Paint Me in a Portrait Sans the Fig Leaves

James is certain that their decoration is completely based on a lack of imagination and an atrocious need for enormous things. It’s common for Pureblood houses, though James’ own home is drastically different, and he tries to not show his distaste by focusing on the large painted portrait standing above them in the parlour.

It has always bemused him that the painters never put smiles on their faces, despite the clearly fantastic skill, but it’s the main hint that you’re dealing with a Pureblood family. Sometimes the mother smiles but Walburga is somehow more stern than her husband. The painting is only beautiful thanks to the mature teenager sitting between them, gracious and somehow exquisite in the dolent picture. It’s him who caught James’ eyes.

Regulus Black has no traces of emotions, following the blind lead of his parents, yet carries a feeling that shouldn’t have been slipped in. His short black hair waves around his face, giving a clear view of the clean-line of his nose and the groomed eyebrows crowning his grey eyes. Several beauty marks break his blemished skin and one tickles the edge of his jaw. He doesn’t look unhappy but the painter must have stroked his brush a single time too much to leave this unclear trace of longing. The grey of his eyes is like a small lighthouse, weakly shining and shy of attention, because James swears they are taking over the whole painting. It’s not a storm, nor some steel or any kind of stone - it calls something else but he can’t look closer. There isn’t any blue but James isn’t an artist and this might flaw his sight. He wonders if the painter hadn’t fallen in love right there to linger their attention so obviously on him. Walburga and Orion Black look like tasteless ghosts that are fighting to have any place in this gigantic painting eaten by Regulus Black.

“It’s imperial to refer to this as an abduction and a corruption,” Walburga declares after the elf-house served the tea and disappeared. “We want all the charges to be as drastic as possible for understandable reasons.”

Her husband drinks his tea, not quite paying them any attention. James quietly clears his throat and politely takes his own cup in hand. Remus hasn’t moved, despite loving tea, and it leaves him with a clear feeling to only fake sipping it rather than drinking it. Lily has caught on as she straightens herself in her seat to meet the head of the house.

“Mrs.Black, you wish to accuse your older son of abducting his brother-”

“Yes,” she openly sneers and Lily’s face almost loses her cool. “Regulus has always been smart and well-mannered which has always tortured Sirius. It’s quite obvious that he is trying to turn our beloved son against us now.”

“Is there a reason why he would do that?” Remus inquires.

Walburga eyes him, almost twitching but her disgust doesn’t slip out. They are all aware of it with how the house feels like it’s trying to swallow them all. James immediately realised that they weren’t happy when they stepped in - even himself, a fellow Pureblood, doesn’t quite satisfy them. The Potters have quickly ignored most Pureblood and Sacred Families’ traditions but they can’t spit them out. They have asked for the best Aurors, probably hinting that they must be Pureblood, and only James somewhat fits these criterias.

The look Lily received, even from the house-elf, could have been an Unforgivable Curse if they hadn’t been around. James doesn’t mind taking the lead, to perhaps flaunt his supposed blood purity, to get them out of this. If they could they might have kicked Remus and Lily out but James announced right away that they are the best team at the Ministry to resolve their troubles.

“Sirius is born mad,” she answers, looking positively sick at addressing them. “Of course, Regulus always understood that but there is a limit to what he must endure. Sirius was sent away because of his lack of– penance.”

“And you believe that he would take this out on his little brother?” Lily interrogates, fingers tapping the side of her quill.

“Obviously.”

James purses his lips at the look they sent to his friend, even if she shows no fear or compliance at the Blacks.

“Do you have any idea what he might do to him?” He asks with the hope to somewhat cool it down.

“I reckon Sirius would like revenge by taking Regulus from us, converting him, or simply disappearing such as now to leave us distraught.”

Lily mouths ‘converting’ but focuses on her notes with a pointed look.

“Where did you send him away? It could help to retrace his steps,” James adds, hesitating to put down his cup of tea still full. “Has he broken in to reach for his brother?”

They have refused to let them search the house. The main reason is probably that they aren’t proper Purebloods and a disgrace in their sacred house of purity but they also assured that there was no break-in despite Regulus disappearing in the middle of the night 3 days ago.

“Sirius, despite being mad, happened to be smart at times,” Walburga stiffly admits. “He might have left himself an opening in the house before we sent him away. We searched the house then and now but found nothing.”

“Do you mind if we take a look?” Remus asks, unwavering even after they sat here for excruciating minutes.

“I do,” she huffs and her teacup rings in the silence when she puts it down. “There is nothing here that could hint about Sirius whereabouts, as I said he hasn’t been here since 12 years ago when we banned him, and Regulus’ room is clean of any traces of magic except our own.”

“Alright,” Lily concedes, smarter than James who wants to pinpoint that it's their job to check on these things. “Any information is helpful, especially about Sirius to consider the best chances to find Regulus. Like a habit or a liking to certain places.”

“Sirius was sent to a boarding school in the south of France for troubled youth and ran away three years after,” she answers with a tilt of her chin when meeting Lily’s eyes. “We didn’t spare another resource for him and left him. What only mattered was that Regulus is free from his filthy influence.”

James can only imagine what is this so-called boarding school and what kind of treatments were offered that Walburga and her husband couldn’t employ to educate them, which aren’t a lot and certainly illegal. Again, he wishes that they could have refused this case because just the name Black gave James enough feeling to understand there is nothing good to find here. It’s not impossible that one of their sons went mad, especially when there is a favourite and the other was probably sent to hell, which might make this case a serious one.

The portrait of Regulus Black seems to look back at him but doesn’t help James to answer any questions he has. He wonders what kind of smile belongs on Regulus’ face.

“Have you received any kind of messages that could refer to a ransom?”

Lily nods at Remus’ comment. “Is there a possibility that Regulus might give Sirius access to your family’s wealth? It’s a plausible motivation.”

“Sirius doesn’t have a vault anymore but Regulus does. There is no access to ours but we have already established to be warned if someone tries to open any of them.”

“Does Regulus have any close friends, perhaps a confidant or a lover, who might know about private information?” Remus asks. “There is a chance that more people are involved or that Regulus noticed something before disappearing.”

“He would have told us.”

He nods amiably after confronting Walburga’s piercing eyes. “My apologies.”

She doesn’t deign to look at him one more second, giving her attention to James who swiftly fakes to drink his tea.

“Er, is there anything else you can recall that could help us suppose where Sirius is hiding or what he is planning?”

Orion Black seems to come back to them. He hasn’t moved from his seat after greeting them at the door and left all the talks to his wife, even during the tense silence before the tea was prepared, but he has been paying attention. His eyes are clear, not as aggressive as Walburga’s, and they lazily wander to all of them. With a blink, he is merciless and takes the lead from his wife.

“If Sirius offers trouble during the arrest, there is no need to forbid your strength.”

James swallows and shakily breathes in through his nose. “You mean–”

“Bringing Regulus is the only matter,” Walburga agrees, “whether Sirius survives from his mad plot isn’t of any importance.”

Orion nods all in simplicity. “We won’t pose a problem to your future if an accident happens.”

“Such a feat might come in handy for a promotion,” she agrees, looking right at James.

They are asking him to kill their son, even going as far as promising him a gratification in exchange - obviously only offered to James.

“Thank you for your time,” Lily cuts and leaves the couch with her eyes drilling into them. Walburga immediately follows as if she might start to run feral. “I believe we have all the information needed and we will keep you updated.”

Remus slightly elbows James to follow her lead, fully conscious of his turmoil and disgust, and stands up without another glance at the tea. Orion observes James before standing up. He takes the time to put the teacup down and to recall his manners to not throw up.

A hand is offered to him and his eyes meet the Master of the house as he musters a somewhat polite smile to shake it. He doesn’t care if he takes it as an agreement of his previous request but James would rather offer them an empty promise before they offer a bounty on their son’s head. They have already taken too long to inform of Regulus’ whereabouts which leaves a door wide open for a myriad of possibilities on why and who else is on this affair.

“Understand that Regulus would have never followed his brother willingly,” Walburga comments, prim and stern from the tip of her hair. “There is a chance that Sirius earns to kill him too.”

“I assure you, your son is our priority.”

“We will start on some lead right away,” Remus deliberately declares with a calculating shine in his eyes.

Walburga’s eyes don’t cover her disgust but his sight is better than Lily’s. She swiftly looks at James.

“We count on you, Mr.Potter.”

A delirious laugh almost escapes at how hard they try to ignore his colleagues. Remus doesn’t care, though he would have said something under different circumstances, and it looks to be amusing Lily by the way she bats her eyes, brewing mischief, at James– if they even had a chosen leader it would probably be her but telling so might send poor Walburga’s heart into the abyss.

He only nods because his words might fail him and he can’t throw all their efforts of standing in this house for nothing. They walk out of the parlour, the house-elf hurrying before them to open the front door to lead them out.

Lily spins with a toothy smile and offers her hand to the Blacks. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. and Mr.Black,” she declares with a sharp edge on her pleasing tone, “we promise you that we will exceed your wishes.”

Remus has stopped on the threshold and his lips almost betray him when they see the violation thrown on Walburga. James coughs and looks outside to not fully lose it but quickly glances back.

Her eyes tick, fingers growing like claws as she keeps them anchored to her waist, and her nostrils flare with many curses.

“Please, do so,” she articulates as Orion gestures for them to walk out.

Lily is satisfied and walks out with James leaning to give her a perfect path to overturn the house if she wants to.

The door is closed, tightly charmed like an unbreakable jar of sour pickles, the moment their coats flutter outside. Remus takes a deep breath without slowing down as James follows with a last look behind and a grin itching his face.

Lily, already at the other side of the road, pauses on her path for them to join her as she shrinks her notes in her pocket. Her green eyes burn with a brimming delirium.

“Will Mr.Potter be able to solve his case with his unbecoming friends?”

Remus snorts and she relishes on it with a beaming laugh.

“Har, har, hilarious.”

“Oh sorry Mr.Pureblood-”

“Merlin, this was awful,” James says to stop her before she makes him more uncomfortable about his blood ties.

“Were you expecting something else?” Remus asks with a raised eyebrow as he stretches his neck.

“Is it insane if I say yes?”

“Yes,” Lily deadpans.

“They are one of the oldest Pureblood families left,” Remus muses, “I’m honestly surprised they have let us in the first place.”

“Can’t even shake my hand– what a powerful family,” she mocks with a derisive shake of her head.

“I’m not saying that I thought they were, er, better. Just hoped they weren’t as mad. It must have been awful for you two.”

Remus shrugs.

“Well it’s fun seeing them act so hard at being racist, though I wish we didn’t have to work for them,” she admits and looks at James. “Do you think they are telling the truth?”

“It’s not because I happen to be a Pureblood that I know all about it. And I’m a traitor to their kind,” he comments but she only raises her eyebrows expectantly. “Well, it’s not uncalled for Pureblood families to banish someone and try to hide them as much as they can.”

“Or have them murdered,” Remus concludes.

James nods. “Whatever is going on might be a vengeance one brother to another, that’s possible. I don’t want to imagine what they did to Sirius but frankly it might be justified.”

“Why not target his parents then? That’s faster.”

“Did you hear that bit about ‘converting’ him?” Lily adds. “Is it about this purity nonsense again?”

“Who knows.” James shrugs. “Perhaps he wants to destroy his family in one go.”

Remus hums pensively before twitching his head toward their left and stops here. James eyes down the street, Grimmauld Place hovering in the distance, as Lily ties her hair. Peter steps out of the darkness, looking skittish, and quickly takes the head of the group to reach the corner of the street.

“Alright there?” She asks.

“If I don’t have to go back in here it will be alright.”

“Really? That bad?”

“You can’t say that the house isn’t creepy!”

“It is,” James agrees. “We didn’t even drink the tea.”

Peter looks at him, surprised. “Why?”

Remus moves his jaw before sighing. “Something didn’t smell right.”

“You think they spiked the tea? The one they served to Aurors?”

“I don’t think they would care if I was the Minister,” Lily drily notes. “We are just filthy blood traitors and all.”

“I’m not sure if they put something in the tea,” Remus confesses. “But it didn’t smell right either. They drank it just fine.”

“You never know,” James agrees with an acute eye brushing over him. No one could disagree with the nose of a werewolf and perhaps it’s a type of tea Remus never tried but he sincerely doubts that’s it. “Anyhow, they weren’t helpful but did you find something?”

“I managed to get in Regulus’ bedroom, completely trashed.”

“Trashed?” Lily startles, stopping near the phonebooth for the Ministry. “Do you think it’s his brother?”

Peter shakes his head, pausing at her side and looking through his pocket. “No. I couldn’t completely look through everything because the house-elf came back to clean but he muttered how Walburga had trashed it another time, not why though.”

“This could explain why they didn’t want to let us in.”

“Do you think she was looking for something?”

“I have no idea. Though I managed to find this letter and a photo. Definitely close friends,” he trails off and looks through his pocket, taking out folden paper before his eyes catch on something behind them and widen, “ah! Not you again!”

James turns to see the cat sitting beside a streetlamp. The light is enough to recognize it even in the night and its black fur. It looks directly at them, blinking with grey pupils before lazily licking a paw.

“Your friend?”

“It tried to eat me before I slipped in, it was roaming around the house,” Peter complains with a huff. “Almost managed to swat me.”

“I’m sure you can have the upper hand on a street cat,” Remus says, almost with a chuckle.

“Of course I am, it just doesn’t make the experience pleasing.”

“Aw Pete, it’s just a cat,” James comments, eyes quickly coming back to observe the cat. It looks well-groomed and the strong light of the streetlamp almost makes its silver eyes shine.

“I would love to see you meet a predator that feast on stags, mate,” he grunts. “Not a funny moment.”

Remus pointedly clears his throat with raised eyebrows and his lips almost ticking in amusement.

James chuckles. “Well I think I would be friends with any of my supposed predators, even best friends.”

“Oh you think you’re so smart, do you?”

He can only laugh and accept Peter’s shove.

“Well, I don’t fancy staying here any longer, I want to finish this day to get home because I deserve a bath. Play with the cat if you want but don’t bring it back to the office,” Lily warns and steps in the phone booth and abruptly disappears.

“Please don’t bring a cat back to the Ministry,” Remus helpfully says and follows her lead.

Peter harumphs and his frown almost softens at James’ grin. “Next time you sneak into the creepy house.”

“How do you want me to do that? I’m not a smart and discreet rat and I wouldn’t even compare to you my dear.”

He clearly enjoys the compliment but he doesn’t completely let go of his pout and casts a look behind him. “Well I did find things so let’s start on a plan now to be home before morning.”

When James looks behind the cat is nowhere to be seen. He still takes a few seconds to stare at the empty street before getting in the phone booth and typing the Ministry combination to be swooped there.

Grey has never caught his attention as much as now, not that James hates it or never noticed it before, but meeting the Black and this cat out of nowhere really brings it forward. The shade of Regulus’ eyes but the painting might have blessed him to open his eyes. Everything feels more raw and he is hit with the contrast of the previous cold air with the somewhat warm one in the Ministry. If he had been the one painting the portrait he would have kept all the details as truthful as possible and he wonders if that’s what the painter did. Regulus hadn’t looked perfect in there but breathtaking, a calm but outer wild force that feels too much for such a simple painting.

The Ministry isn’t completely empty. There are still a few people that he can greet on his way to their shared office, dropping by the break room to see if anyone left something to eat behind. They will only take a look at what Peter’s found and establish a possible plan for tomorrow before going home. Lily is already writing on their blackboard the main words from their meeting with the Blacks - that they insisted on having after dinner.

Remus is sitting beside Peter, looking at a purple paper, with what looks to be a picture beside them.

“What do we have here?” James inquires, taking off his coat and accioing his chair to join them.

“I found these, which seemed personal enough to lead us in a direction or at least find people close to Regulus that aren’t his parents.”

He can’t help but nod. Purebloods are all about family and their ancestry but it often doesn’t lead to a particular closeness or a liking. The Blacks already exiled one of their sons and an uncle if his memory serves right and Regulus might be a part of it.

“That’s good.”

“First,” Lily interrupts, stepping up to them to have a look above Remus, “do we assume Sirius Black really kidnapped his little brother, like their parents claim, or do we go another direction?”

“We can’t really decide yet. There are chances that they are lying but it’s true that Sirius showed up in London barely a week ago,” Remus says. “And it’s a basic scenario that one sibling goes after another out of jealousy because of his parents and all. But the parents are also really suspicious if you consider what they might have done to them.”

“Right,” Lily sighs out, “we can’t really figure it out now. But it will be more complicated to follow two different tracks like that. If Sirius came back to England though, it’s worth checking why.”

James focuses on the picture on the table to have a proper look at the people beside Regulus.

“Hey– wasn’t that one guy at Hogwarts too?” James frowns before focusing on the black girl. “And that’s Dorcas Meadowes, she was in Slytherin and a Keeper at Quidditch - pretty good, she liked to smash anyone coming too close to her goals.”

“Evan Rosier,” Remus confirms, “and all of them actually. They were a year below us. I recognize the blonde girl, Pandora, she was in Ravenclaw.”

“They all were,” Peter confirms. “That’s Barty Crouch Junior, remember how many times he was in detention with us?”

James nods without hiding his surprise that Regulus found himself in such a tight group, even though he seems to try to push them off in the picture, but Rosier is a Pureblood so that’s probably how he got to know them all.

“Regulus never went to Hogwarts but they all look pretty close,” Lily comments. “We should try to talk to some of them.”

“Rosier left England if I remember, something about family business.”

“Our luck might be with Pandora,” Remus says and gestures with the purple paper in his hand.

They mingle around him to have a closer look. Even without a fine nose like Remus you could smell the sweet and breezy fragrance on the colourful letter, one could think it is a love letter, but it only summarises a recollection of a night out and thoughts for the New Year from Pandora. There doesn’t seem to be a secret code that could hint of Regulus and her sharing a secret romance but the possibility isn’t none.

“That’s something,” Lily recognizes. “Doesn’t look like a secret lover but with his parents you never know.”

“His parents probably won’t approve,” Peter agrees. “Even if she is a Pureblood, I don’t remember her belonging to any outstanding family– actually what’s her family name?”

“Think she grew up in an orphanage,” Remus replies and waves his wand to start the boiler along with the teacups quietly settling on their tables. “We didn’t talk much but we often crossed paths in the library. She always came to talk to me after the full-moon just to check on me.”

Lily looks at him. “Do you think she knows?”

He shakes his head and leaves his chair to pick up the tea amongst all the boxes on his desk. “No or at least never hinted at it. Probably only asked because I was in the Hospital Wing for a day or two and was curious about it.”

They share a look while James busies himself but they opt to not comment on this. Remus’ lycanthropy is more than often better to be left quiet until he decides to talk about it - Pandora probably hasn’t caught on or they would have known back then.

At least, it doesn’t seem to put him in a bad mood at the moment, even if Remus is only an Auror because he is a werewolf and there is no means to fight off the Ministry. It’s awful because James is aware that Remus would love for werewolves to have better rights but not at the price of his own freedom - not when the result might never come. Even with him and Peter following him to become Aurors, after Remus broke down from the meeting with the Ministry to explain that he has no choice but to be an Auror if he wants to have a sort of life, it’s not enough to solve his fate.

James is convinced Remus would have been an amazing professor like he wished to be but the Ministry deemed him too dangerous as one. Instead, as an Auror he can put to good use his improved senses from lycanthropy. They keep promising him that it will prove how werewolves can be apt to live and work like any other wizards but he can see that Remus doesn’t believe in it, if he ever did.

“Mh… Well, she could be Regulus’ secret lover since he kept the letter. It could also explain why his parents trashed his room. He might have run away with her but they accuse Sirius so we can arrest him.”

“Maybe he helped them elope,” Peter agrees with her hypothesis.

“But look, they talk about the Chimera,” James points out once he reads the letter again, “that’s like the number one place for queers. And it looks like they are planning to go there again. It’s interesting.”

Lily stares at him a beat too long to promise anything good. He glances back at the letter even though he is sure there is no mistake there since Pandora wrote ‘We had so much fun but we didn’t try all their drinks yet so we need to return to Chimera soon to resolve this drastic lack of knowledge, right Reggie?’.

“What’s interesting about it?” Remus wonders as he brings the teapot over and serves their cups.

“It’s a secret hangout for queer people! You can’t go in otherwise. If Regulus is queer then maybe he isn’t involved with Pandora.”

“Does it matter?”

He blinks before shrugging. “Well it’s better to have the official story.”

“Uh-huh.”

“James, Mary works there,” she dryly replies, weirdly sounding like she is talking like a child. “Of course I know this place when my girlfriend owns it.”

“Uh yeah? We go there plenty often,” he agrees and can see Remus raising his eyebrow at him as he tries to hide a smirk with his teacup and Peter puts sugar in his drink. “What– ouch! Why did you slap me Lily?!”

“Because you don’t fool me. I know you James,” she explains and gives him another soft swat at the back of his head. “We don’t need you drooling after our missing person— not in this case.”

“I’m not!”

“You are. Don’t think I didn’t catch how you looked at this horrendous portrait in their living room.”

He splutters and asks Peter to help but he only shrugs and Remus nods without looking away. “I can’t appreciate great art now?”

“Great art my ass,” Lily refutes. “James, you know I love you, but remember when you shagged the person we were supposed to only escort?”

“Well, you and I both know you wouldn’t have refused.”

“Not during the job, James!”

“Is it my fault if sometimes we meet wonderful people who deserve some kisses?!”

“Merlin,” Peter mutters and busies himself with his tea.

“Why am I the only one getting a lesson about this? As if you lot never found anyone attractive when we worked!”

“I have the prettiest girlfriend James, I don’t need to look at anyone else. And Peter is smart enough to know not to act on impulses like a three-year-old.”

“Thanks?”

“What about Remus? We both know his casanova-”

“Excuse me?”

“Trail hasn’t diminished after we left the Gryffindor Tower! What’s the name of the trainee who always undresses him with his eyes when we cross paths?”

“Ryan.”

“He what?” Remus squeaks, glancing at Peter who grimaces a bit but nods.

“Remus knows how to separate his work life and private life.”

James frowns at Lily but she only goes back to the board to write down all the names of Regulus’ supposed friends. He huffs and takes the picture back to have another look as he chugs down his tea. Their Hogwarts years were eventful but he can vaguely remember their faces, especially Dorcas since she really played well during Quidditch. Regulus looks annoyed in the picture but there is a tiny smile creeping up that he tries to hold back. The magical picture lets it appear for a brief, barely there, beat.

It’s incomparable with the painting but James can’t really choose which is his favourite. In the picture Regulus is far happier, despite the grumpy facade that only makes him cuter and James wants to soothe and kiss his eyebrows, but the painting could have completely stolen Regulus away. His eyes are still mesmerising in the picture but they don’t call James like a siren, trying to get him to reach that forbidden line.

“Do you think someone can be stuck in a painting?”

“Happened to several painters who haven’t mastered the spells yet for that kind of work.”

James only hums and softly brushes a finger over the picture with a nasty desire to make a copy of it just for him. The painting still comes through his mind, taunting and eating at his thoughts, as he tries to think of a way to get it only for himself. It would fit right in his home, perhaps not his bedroom or he might never sleep again because his eyes will never waver away from it - neither his supposed office because that would force him to go in there and work less than before. He only has one for appearances and well to fill the room with something because an empty room is just sad. The painting deserves a place dedicated to him, or at least not be put somewhere just because there is space.

“Do you reckon they would mind if I took their painting? They don’t seem to really care, didn’t even look once at it-”

“James!”

“I’m serious!” He almost whines but a bit of dignity sticks to him at Lily’s horrified and belwidered look. “Have you seen it? The eyes? They were not paying it any attention even though we only talked about Regulus! It deserves better.”

“The… painting?” Remus asks.

“Yes,” he sighs out. “Maybe I could go by their house with the excuse of the case and take it. I’m sure they wouldn’t notice-”

“Er I think they will?” Peter interjects.

“I just need to cut it or erase his parents out of it, don’t see the point of them really-”

“James, holy shit,” Lily cuts. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re in love with a painting?”

“Give me that picture before you steal one of our evidence,” Remus requests and frowns at his pout; James surrenders it at last.

“You can’t say you don’t think Regulus isn’t breathtaking!”

“James, it’s a painting. The type these families order to show them as pistrine and flawless as possible– it’s the whole point. They wouldn’t show a bad painting.”

“Did you drink their tea?”

“Oi, I’m alright.”

“Not really if you’re blabbering about someone you haven’t even met,” Peter unhelpfully comments. “And who might have eloped with one of his friends.”

“And they went to Chimera?”

“I’m speechless,” Lily exhales and puts her head in her hands.

“No one disagreed with me about how beautiful Regulus is.”

“James, you realise that he is missing right?” Remus softly recalls. “And his family is… peculiar.”

“I’m not insane. I’m just saying that I know and want to appreciate beauty.”

“Of a blood purist?” Lily says before sighing. “Well if he goes to Chimera and his friends too then perhaps there is hope that he isn’t a complete asshole like his parents.”

“Well-”

“James, no,” she sternly cuts. “I’m too sober to hear about your kinks and how sassy and mean is what gets you going.”

“I need alcohol.”

James laughs and nudges Peter. Remus clears his throat and looks up at the board. 

“Putting aside James' newfound love in art, what do you reckon we should do? Is his brother really the culprit in the first place?”

Lily gives him a thankful look but still warns James with a stern glare before turning to her board. “Well Sirius Black did come to London just a few days ago before Regulus supposedly went missing. He has strong motives to attack his brother to hurt him and his parents. They haven’t really said anything that could imply they treated him well.”

“But what’s the point?” Peter wonders, leaning back and forth with his chair. “If he wants to stop their bloodline, murder is the best way to do it. But if he abducted his brother then he will need to keep him away for a loooong time for this.”

“Maybe he wants the family money.”

“He might also want to do something more public,” Remus agrees. “Killing his brother would have been the obvious way to go for vengeance. Money is also a possibility, but he might have gone through all the trouble to kidnap him to make a public example of some kind. There are tons of events for Purebloods, right? Maybe he wants to bring his brother there.”

Lily nods, deep in her thoughts. James can see all these things happen. They don’t have enough information about Sirius to determine what could be his style. He disappeared in France and it’s only now that Regulus’ parents called for help that the border’s workers noticed Sirius Black coming back to London. His picture is clear and despite the difference of years since he went missing - you can recognize the Black features on him.

“He looks a lot like Regulus,” Peter mumbles.

“You can thank incest for that,” Remus says before James has the time to put his thoughts together.

— He isn’t wrong but James is sure that they are plenty different if you look carefully. The vague image of Sirius’ face leaving the Portkey Agency doesn’t help him to put this guess into words but Regulus seems to be more careful about showing his feelings. Sirius has an edge of mischievous and excitement that would make any Auror looks twice behind them.

“So we contact Regulus’ friends to hopefully have more insight about him and hopefully find something on Sirius there?” He asks.

“I think it’s the best move,” Lily admits though she isn’t sure as she stares at the board. “I really don’t want us to end up on the wrong track in case Regulus is really in danger.”

“Because he might have eloped?”

“Maybe… If Pandora also left London then I suppose that’s a big hint at it. But I was more thinking along the lines of the timing is curious– Sirius really might have his brother but can we really believe what the Blacks said about them?”

“They might not actually hate each other,” James nods.

“Their parents might have also prepared a trick,” Remus muses. “They could be using Sirius showing up here as a way to cover something concerning Regulus. I wouldn’t be surprised if they are forcing him into something or sending him to a place for bad-behaved kids.”

“He is 20,” Peter says but grimaces after a second. “Yeah they would probably do that. Just from what I saw from the blasted bedroom makes it obvious they are really controlling.”

“Well, that gives us nothing,” Lily fakely cheers. “Let’s try to find more information tomorrow or at least establish if Regulus eloped. We will have to hurry though since they put this stupid wanting poster for Sirius’ head.”

It’s on the board too. She cut it out from the newspaper just this morning and it leaves a bad taste. It’s an old picture of Sirius, probably when he was 14 or 15, before he went missing and then the one taken at the Portkey Agency. Wanting posters aren’t truly used anymore and James can’t remember if he even saw one before but he supposes that the Black had threads to pull to manage to pull a death arrest on their own son.

[clothyume]

Astraea's Atelier: Ally of Justice Part Eight

Ally of Justice: Part Eight 

Summer 

Leo: The benefactor in question seems to be doing art themself, and one day showcased his work at the exhibition. 

Chiaki: Ahh, I feel like I’m somehow getting the punchline. 

Leo: Yup. And even though they were Shu’s benefactor, he didn’t take any precautions and criticised the work in a brutal manner, following the style of the exhibition. 

Chiaki: Wah. 

Leo: Don’t think Shu is ungrateful, okay? Giving favours doesn’t matter in the world of art. 

No matter how much you like someone, if the work is bad, you should say so! 

On the other hand, no matter how good the other person’s work is, if you think it's good you should say you like it! 

In reality things don’t go as ideally as that, it’s just a matter of convenience— 

At least, that’s Shu’s idea on the aesthetics of an artist. So he thoroughly criticised the work of his benefactor as he felt. 

That’s fine, but if it was Shu he would've said “what the hell?” And he’d be inspired to make a better piece. 

So, he definitely will have looked back on the people that he criticised at some point. 

I understand because I’m that type of person too, but I usually get really depressed when a piece of work that I’ve poured my heart and soul into is rejected. 

In some cases, I’ll break. 

Chiaki: …

Leo: In fact, it looks like the benefactor in question hasn’t been seen at an exhibition since that day. 

Chiaki: They were probably heartbroken because their favourite artist, Itsuki, rejected them. 

I kinda understand that feeling… 

If Sagami-sensei from Ryusei Rainbow, that I’ve always admired, told me “You’re unfit to be a hero!” I’d probably die. 

Leo: Wahaha, I’d also get depressed if Sena told me “I don’t need you”! 

Woah, no way, I’m shaking just imagining it! So cold…! 

Chiaki: Wanna turn on the heating? 

Leo: It’s okay! When I talk, my body temperature rises! Anyway, the day that Shu’s benefactor disappeared is the day that strange things started turning up in Shu’s atelier! 

Chiaki: Yup. Judging from the situation, I think the benefactor might be the culprit behind this case. 

Leo: I think so too! His work, which was only exhibited once, and the styles of the pieces appearing in this atelier are the same! 

Leo: Shu probably noticed that too. That’s why he’s upset and in a slump… That’s my theory. 

Chiaki: Yup. I think that makes sense. You’re surprisingly smart, Tsukinaga. 

Leo: Oh~? You thought I was stupid? Even though I am stupid! 

Chiaki: I’m not trying to make fun of you. At least, without your information, we wouldn’t have figured out the culprit. 

Leo: That’s obvious! You were on the other side of the ocean! 

Chiaki: Yup… I feel a little bit relieved now the identity of the culprit has been revealed. The culprit isn’t someone dangerous like the mafia, but an artist like Itsuki— Is the highest likelihood. 

The motive is still unclear. I wonder if it is harassment by planting things Itsuki isn’t good with, in order to get revenge for being rejected. 

Leo: Wahaha, if that is the case the effects were immediate! As expected Shu is disturbed and falls into a slump! 

Chiaki: No… I get the sense that it's not that. Kiryu and Itsuki said it during the day, but it's too elaborate to be harassment. 

The culprit’s motive, isn’t it something else? 

Leo: What else could it be? 

I got it! They plan to keep showing Shu pervy things so that it makes him so horny he can’t hold back anymore and pushes them down! 

In other words, the culprit is in love with Shu…! 

Chiaki: That’s one way to say it, but I’m surprised you would come up with such an idea, Tsukinaga. 

Leo: Wahaha! My Naru and I talk about this all the time! We get a lot of requests for love songs! What’s important is the dopamine rush! 

Chiaki: Dopamine.. I don’t know the details, but when it's secreted, you get a feeling of euphoria, right? 

In other words, hmm… Could it be just that? 

Shu: —There’s a theory that excessive secretion of dopamine causes hallucinations and delusions. 

Chiaki: Wagyaaa!? 

Shu: Don’t let out such an annoying scream. Are you trying to tell me that there was no supernatural phenomenon and it was all my imagination? 

Chiaki: I-It’s not that! If it’s a delusion then wouldn’t the rest of us be imagining pervy things… No, it’s strange that we’re seeing them too! 

Shu: True. So what is it, then? You trampled on my kindness, sneaked out of my sleeping quarters, then trespassed in my atelier—

If you tell me there’s no resolution, even a mild-mannered person like me is going to get angry. 

Chiaki: Y-Yup! Well, Itsuki, we just had a thought— 

Shu: …? 

[animebw]

And that’s a wrap on Yuri Kuma Arashi.

I wish I could say the last three episodes really turned things around. But aside from a pretty strong climax (The reveal of Lady Ursaria’s appearance was a really great way to symbolize Kureha’s emotional journey), this show’s final stretch just drove home all the reasons it fell short of its ambitions. The characters are blank mouthpieces for the story’s themes and have no sense of inner life. Most of the twists aren’t very interesting or worth building up so much suspense around. Even the metaphors feel like they’re getting muddied by the end: the way the Homo/Ursa conflict is portrayed starts to feel less like a stand-in for queerness and its depictions in fiction and more like one of those really problematic racism metaphors where the oppressed race of fantasy creatures is actually dangerous and inhuman. Somewhere along the line, this show got so wrapped up in the cocoon of its Big Important Message that it forgot to actually be a compelling story first and foremost.

But perhaps the most damning piece of evidence of all is this:

This right here is Yuri Kuma Arashi wholesale borrowing the single greatest moment in all of Utena. This line and its context in the story’s climax wasn’t just a stunning conclusion to all the story’s twisting themes, it was a moment of pure catharsis that reduced me to a sobbing, blubbering wreck like few moments in fiction have ever even approached. I’d had some issues with Utena throughout its run, but the moment this line appeared and shot me through the heart, none of those issues mattered anymore. It is, without question, one of the single greatest finales in all of anime.

Yuri Kuma Arashi uses that same line, in a very similar context, as the emotional climax to its story.

And I felt nothing.

The simple fact of the matter is, I just did not care about this story. I didn’t care about Kureha, I didn’t care about Ginko, I didn’t care about Lulu, and no matter how many times I tries, I just couldn’t summon up the emotional investment to care about where their paths would take them. It’s kind of the inverse problem that Penguindrum had; whereas that show had a cast of characters I genuinely cared about but left me frustrated by how confusing and unclear its metaphors were, the symbolic message of YKA is crystal clear but delivered through a cast of characters I failed to connect with. So much so that even Ikuhara repurposing one of the most emotionally affecting moments I’ve ever experienced in fiction couldn’t break through the shell of indifference that built up around me over episode upon episode of flat characterization and lifeless relationship building. I can’t think of a better summation of this show’s failures than that.

I have always had a rocky relationship with Ikuhara’s work. Even at his most genius, the way he chooses to tell stories never quite lines up perfectly with my own personal tastes. But for all the complaints I have about Penguindrum, at least it made me care. At least I wanted to try and figure out what was going on for the sake of seeing how this fractured family weathered the storm. And despite me bouncing off some of its rougher edges, Utena has more than earned its status as anime’s art-house masterpiece. Even Sarazanmai, though it doesn’t shoot quite as high, is consistently wonderful all the way through and proves Ikuhara’s still got plenty of imagination left to throw around. But Yuri Kuma Arashi feels like all his best instincts as a creator were left by the wayside, leaving nothing behind but a very good essay on the state of queer media wrapped around an underbaked husk of a show that fails to stand on its own outside that meta context. I fully understand why it’s considered his weakest show by many, and I’m right there in agreement with them. Consider it a 4.5/10, and let’s hope Ikuhara’s next work continues the upward trend Sarazanmai set instead of regressing back to this state.

[suzukiblu]

WIP WEDNESDAY GAME

Taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

file names:

Cassie makes a claybaby

we are so pleased with this Match

Amazon Kon

Krypton lives and Kara did not sign up for this

the one where Kon's soulmark is fake

snippet from “Cassie makes a claybaby”:

“This is a disaster,” Cassie says, making a face at the mess of wet, sloppy clay on the table in front of her. 

“You added too much water,” Kon tells her, not looking up from his own much less messy lump. “You need more clay.” 

“How do you even know that?” Cassie asks, eyeing him suspiciously. Them all taking this stupid ceramics class together was Bart’s idea–he’s currently at the table in front of them, busy excitedly arguing with Cissie about why they should make matching bookends–and the teacher was extremely fucking unclear on how much water was “too much”. 

“Mae and Linda used to sculpt,” Kon says with a shrug, using one of the weird wire-topped tools the teacher left out for them to literally peel a few chunks out of his clay. Cassie has never been so baffled by a method of making art. “They showed me a couple of tricks back in the day.” 

“Who?” Cassie asks in bewilderment. Kon’s mouth tightens for a moment in a familiar “someone you apparently forgot” kind of way, and then he just shrugs and peels some more of his clay off. 

“Never mind,” he says. Cassie feels–unsettled, briefly, like she does every time this happens. Every time Kon mentions someone who apparently existed before and doesn’t exist now, or at least not in any way that any of them have noticed or recognized. Things that unhappened are bad enough, but people . . . 

It makes her think of him, cut off from all of them, and wonder how many other people that might’ve happened to. Was Kon the only one? Are “Mae” and “Linda” out there somewhere too, lost and missing them? 

Should she be missing them? 

“I don’t think we’re artistic enough for this,” Tim says from the table behind them. He and Greta seem to have pooled their clay into one weird blocky, amorphous monstrosity. Cassie isn’t gonna ask, mostly because he’d started muttering about Clayface when the whole idea for this class had come up to begin with. Anita comes over with a fresh block of clay and smacks it on top of the other two’s. It looks like the Minecraft idea of a snowman. 

Cassie suspects that perhaps they’re not all taking this class as seriously as they could be and that the only reason the teacher hasn’t thrown them out is because she’s currently distracted with, like, twelve other people. Still, it’s only one day, and they just signed up for it as a fun little hangout thing to go do together, so whatever, it’s not like it matters. 

“What are you making, Kon?” Greta asks curiously. “It looks nice.” 

“Angel,” Kon replies matter-of-factly without looking up from his clay-fiddling, and doesn’t elaborate past that despite the fact Cassie cannot imagine a less religious friend she has, including the declared atheists. Kon’s sculpting does look nice, though, especially compared to everyone else’s. Bart’s clay is all squished into Escher-esque nightmares and Cissie hasn’t even touched her block, and again, Tim and Greta and Anita appear to have just made a Minecraft snowman. But given how seriously Kon seems to be taking this (given that Cassie’s never heard of a “Mae” or a “Linda” in her LIFE), Cassie figures she should at least try, and goes to get some more clay to add to her mess.

She doesn’t even know what she’s gonna make, honestly. 

Fuck it, maybe she’ll pull a Hippolyta and just make herself a kid. That’d be kind of funny. And also be better than just biting Kon’s idea, probably. Like, show more engagement or whatever.

[fierceawakening]

ceanothusspinosus Oh! I did not at all mean to imply that competing access needs are necessarily solvable. They really truly may not be, and when that clash prevents a good relationship, it sucks. It also takes skill and practice to sort out what your own needs _are_ and it sounds like she is… not good at that. Possibly not interested in becoming good at that. Possibly ashamed to look at it too closely and see where she can and can’t compromise. Who knows. At some point it doesn’t matter for your purposes. :/

ceanothusspinosus I think that the existence of ableism provides a lot of context and imposes a lot of constraints on the whole situation. I imagine that in a less ableist world she’d maybe have different expectations of you and tbh of herself. But it’s not ableist to notice that different people have different abilities, and in your situation it makes sense that you’re really sensitive to concepts like expectations around “ability” used without failsafes.

ceanothusspinosus And in ~abusive/very unbalanced situations “ability” and motivation is commonly, idk. Complicated. Unclear. It comes down to “even if the most generous reading is true, I don’t think it’s going to change and I don’t want to live like this.” I’m thinking of you wondering if she’s copying some of your own ND traits/habits - I certainly can’t know from here, that’s definitely not the sort of thing you’re likely to get a straight answer on if so, it _could_ just be her own stuff...

ceanothusspinosus …so where does that leave you? Looking at the situation more carefully while you do your best to be what you consider an ethical person with no obvious answers, unfortunately. :/ And it’s clear you are trying to be careful.

ceanothusspinosus Also btw, thanks for being clear about the kind of answer you wanted.

No problem! I think part of the issue is, like... social justice types of framework, where you taboo certain phrases, really don't port over well when someone is dealing with an abusive situation or a situation that's leaning that way. Like, it's useful when my therapist says something sounds narcissistic not because she can or should diagnose anyone who isn't me (and I don't take her to be doing that), but because we have a somewhat shared understanding of the word. She's telling me she thinks that behavior is unfair, and the sort of unfair that stays that way and you don't fix with a clarifying conversation, because the kind of person who is often unfair in that way is the kind of person who isn't psychologically ready to have that clarifying conversation and is going to lash out.

It's the same way (and the same situation, I think, painted different colors) I eventually decided I felt about gendered slurs. No, I don't technically HAVE to call my abusive ex a bitch, and I actually wouldn't see much use in calling her that now. But at the time, when I was angry and hurt? Trying to police my own ways of thinking about what was happening were what got me stuck in the being abused in the first place. It was only once I could trust that I wasn't revealing some deep evil going "fuck that bitch" that I could get the distance I needed to rethink whether that was a phrase I wanted to use once the experiences were sufficiently behind me.

Which is I think the problem with a lot of those posts, especially online, that exhort people not to use certain terms to analyze the behavior of someone mistreating them. What that comes across like to the person trying to understand what the fuck happened is "you're mean for processing this in your mind, and if you want to do that you need to choose from the approved tools."

Which I think is why those posts got my goat so much. (I hope they wouldn't as much now that I've thought through this, but they might still bug me, I can't promise the berserk button is totally deactivated.) Survivors need space to be mean and aggro and messy, and just because we feel it this second doesn't mean we endorse it forever. People who are injured scream. This does not mean screaming is appropriate behavior most of the time. It means that it's normal when someone is injured.

Like with my ex. Reading books on BPD actually helped a lot! Not because I came out of it thinking "all people who have that are abusive;" I can think of several friends current and former who I don't think are abusive and who I certainly don't think would ever do the things she did that traumatized me. But because a long careful description of behaviors and psychic distortions helped impose some order on what I experienced as a maelstrom of desire and need and rage and hate.

I'm not even sure I'm going to come out of this thinking narcissism is the problem. I might even decide I think she's neurotypical when all is said and done, I don't know. But I need to be able to shut the social justice framing down at least long enough to sort out what I need, why what I have is not that, and whether (as my therapist has also said) the right thing for me is no contact or less contact.

And in order to sort that out, I need to be able to try on ideas like "No one cares that you're disabled. I care that you don't stop, whether that's won't or can't."

I can sort out whether that's too harsh *later*, when I know my own decisions and their results better than now.

Does that make sense?

[iphoneartgirl]

I Have Received 14 Awards in the 2023 Julia Margaret Cameron International Awards for Women Photographers!  The works above will all be on display starting in mid-April at the Fotonostrum Gallery in Barcelona, Spain, along with works from other award winners from around the globe. I was hoping I could figure out a way to attend the opening, but I can’t.

I received word about these awards at the close of 2022. But to say that the news was overwhelming would be putting it mildly. This is why I’ve waited until now to share the news here.

Following the loss of my home, studio, all my tools, my garden and all my work to the Almeda wildfire, I drove a motorhome I bought to live in after the fire 11,000 miles around the United States. I immersed myself in nature, visited old friends, and asked them for help in recovering my mind, my identity, my sanity.

When I returned in June of 2022 and set up camp in my motorhome on a hill in Ashland, Oregon, I was mostly still in a state of shock and bewilderment. Confounded and flabbergasted. I spent the summer walking around Ashland connecting with agencies set up to help wildfire survivors and seeing friends. But it was hot, uncomfortable living in one place in a motorhome, and I was always expecting more fire. I felt in no way grounded. Always afraid. 

By the time it started getting cold again I was still camping. In the cooler days, I began to imagine, however tentatively, that I might one day share some mobile images again. Maybe some from my trip, some of my meditations and deep experiences of both pain and steady transformation. Nevertheless, I still felt so vulnerable. So discombobulated. So tenuous about whoever I had thought I was before the fire. So unclear about who I might become as a senior artist who had lost all evidence of her previous life and her work.

It was in that state of mind that I decided, one November morning, to send some of my mobile images to the International Julia Margaret Cameron Awards competition for women photographers. The entries didn’t cost much - a huge motivator since I’m broke now. Why not? I thought of my entries as a kind of trial balloon, particularly the images I entered from the Almeda Firewalk Series that I’ve been working on since 2021.

I expected nothing and figured that if anything I sent got any kind of attention from the juror, Barbara Davidson (a woman whose courageous photography I have admired for decades), maybe I could reinvest in thinking of myself again as a living photographer and mobile artist. If not, I could just keep on drinking my way from one day to another, wondering when I should just pull the plug on this life.

Getting the news that not one or two - but almost ALL - of the entries I submitted had received awards put a serious dent in my stupor. For a couple of days, I danced around on Facebook and called and told old friends. I couldn’t have felt more delighted or more affirmed in my creativity and I took the awards as evidence that I hadn’t actually lost all my skill even if I didn’t believe that myself. I lost everything else, right?

But the thing about trauma recovery is that it’s anything but linear.  Survivors don’t just go from sad to elated and stay there. We remain afraid. Stunned. Suspicious. Doubtful. And isolation can easily remain our best friend. We know how bad we still feel. And we know how everyone who knows us just wants us to feel good again and go back to where and who we were before the trauma. They’re tired of hearing about the pain. So we stop telling them about it. We get quiet and we hide out.

Hence ... the time it’s taken for me to feel up to making this post here today.

I told my friend, John, this morning that over the last month I am starting to feel  that my mind may actually be healing. A bit. After two-and-a-half years. Yes, I’m still the iPhoneArtGirl. Yes, I still make mobile photographs and mobile art almost every day. And maybe, just maybe, I will one day be able to courageously share more here than an awards announcement.

Tomorrow morning, I’m planning to venture out to a speed-dating event at the Medford Library. I don’t know what’s going to happen there but it’s my hope to have a few minutes of conversation with private foundations and government funders who I can imagine could use the Almeda Wildfire Series to serve their stakeholders. I’ll be looking for partners who might see it in their interests to help me take all the pain and the transformational gifts I’m starting to experience into community conversations with their stakeholders in communities of all sizes around the state.

I know there are people like me all across Oregon who need to re-connect much more substantively with their neighbors so all of us can BELONG TOGETHER AGAIN even if the political trance has people believing we can’t. There are such large climate, environmental, housing, medical care, educational, economical, ethical and spiritual challenges ahead. We cannot meet them in isolation.  

If you read this far, I thank you warmly for your time, your consideration, and your care. Namaste.