#//Just spitballing as this point as I watch my brother play.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 11 - Map

@jegulus-microfic February 11 Word count 924

Previous part First part

“I have a proposition for you,” Dumbledore said, his voice still quiet. Regulus knew whatever it was, he wasn’t going to like it, but it would probably be preferable to Azkaban. 

“What do you want me to do?”

“You will turn spy for the Order. Whatever information you gather will be sent directly to us. It will, of course, be highly dangerous. I do hope your occlumency skills are well practised.” Regulus felt his blood run cold. In the back of his mind, he knew this was what would be asked of him. 

He looked into Dumbledore’s steady eyes and knew he was just another piece to be used to win this giant game of chess the old wizard and Voldemort were playing. What Regulus needed to figure out was if he was a pawn or a piece of higher value. 

“If you want me dead, Dumbledore, why not let your dog finish me off?” He pointed his chin in the direction of Moody. 

“Because Mr Black, alive, you are useful.”

And that’s where he found himself, a spy for the order. He was no longer confined to the cellar, but he was still confined to the house while they came up with a plan. 

“We could glamour him with bruises. That way, it’ll look like he escaped,” Sirius suggested. 

“No, they’ll see right through that. The second he walks back through the door, they’ll finite him, and he’ll go back to normal.” 

James and Sirius had been spitballing for hours about how to get Regulus back into Voldemort’s inner circle with the least amount of fuss. 

“They need to be real. I’ll punch him if you want?” Remus put in, winking at Regulus. 

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” Sirius nodded thoughtfully. Regulus had had enough. 

“Oh, yeah, Sirius. Get your boyfriend to beat your brother up. That’s real nice.” James put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Remus is strong and good at hitting just right. You’ll be well bruised, but he won’t waste a blow. You’d only need about three for enough bad bruising.  Someone else that could give you ten and hardly leave a bruise.” Regulus mulled this over. 

“Can you really do that?” He asked Remus. “Make it look good with that few strikes?” Remus shrugged. 

“I’m good with my hands.” 

“Yeah, he is.” Sirius felt the need to add his eyebrows wiggling to get the point across. Regulus, James and Remus all groaned at him.

“What? It’s true.” Sirius said innocently. “You’re the ones who took it the wrong way.”

“Only because you made sure we did.” Regulus and Sirius bickered back and forth until Remus stepped in. 

“Right, so we’ve got his appearance down. We still have your robes, and they are ripped to shit where Mad-Eye got them. So, nothing to do there.” They all nodded along as Remus continued. “We need to sort out if Regulus makes a miraculous escape or if we set it up so he’s rescued. But if we go down the escape path. We could possibly use Sirius in this. You know, helping your brother escape. Or—” Regulus could see the quick calculations zipping behind Remus’s eyes. “Or, I do it. We use it as an in for me as well. They know I’m a werewolf, and they’ve been trying to get me for years. Greyback would welcome me with open arms. And then there would be two of us instead of just Regulus.” All excitement and joy left Sirius’s face, and Regulus watched his brother crumple before him in a way even Walburga had never managed to do. 

“No,” His voice was hoarse. “No. I won’t let you. They’ll destroy you, Remus. I won’t let you.” Sirius grabbed Remus’s shoulders and shook him. “They’ll swallow you up, Remus. I can’t lose you.” Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius and slowly walked him out of the kitchen, leaving Regulus alone with James. 

They stood silently for a while, waiting to see if Sirius and Remus were coming back. But when they heard Sirius’s motorbike fire up, they knew they wouldn’t be back for a while at least. 

“Shall we finish going over those maps then?” James asked, breaking the silence. Regulus let out a sigh but pulled a map he’d been drawing towards himself. 

There were three. Grimmauld Place, Malfoy Manor and Castle Lestrange. Regulus had spent hours walking around those houses in his youth, and since he’d left Hogwarts, waiting for others or on instructions. Sirius had helped where he could, mainly with Grimmauld Place, but Regulus knew more about the others, such as one of the many secret passages in Malfoy Manor that led from the library to the servant’s quarters. Even Mad-Eye had been impressed. The maps were going to be used to stage rescues and raids when Voldemort attacked the Ministry. Apparently, they had enough people to pull it off. They’d had to include Grimmauld Place, as that was a major meeting place for Voldemort supporters. 

Sirius and Remus didn’t reappear until they were ordered to a few days later. Regulus had a feeling Sirius had been keeping Remus away to stop any more talk of him getting in with the werewolves and turning spy for the Order. 

They sat around the kitchen table. Regulus, James, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, Mad-Eye and Frank. 

“So,” Dumbledore started the meeting. “Have you come up with a plan?” The four young men looked between themselves. Regulus looked up and met Dumbledore’s pale eyes, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. 

“Yes.”      

Next part

[duhragonball]

Who is your favorite non-Sayian, non-villain character in the Dragonball series? I really like Piccolo and Tien for instance. Or do you only have room for the major players?

Probably Bulma, Piccolo, or Krillin, depending on my mood. If I show greater appreciation for Saiyans and villains, it's only because they have a greater presence in the show, so there's more for me to talk about.

Even so, I still enjoy minor characters, or even obscure ones. To give you an idea, or just because I need to get it out of my head, I'll say a few words about my latest fixation, Ivy from Where on Earth is Carmen Sandiego?

I just woke up today and somehow got reminded of this cartoon, which was promoted heavily on Fox back in 1994 while I was trying to watch Batman: The Animated Series. Carmen Sandiego is the thief from the old computer games, and the cartoon introduced a pair of detective characters to chase her, a brother-and-sister team named Zack and Ivy.

Zack is pretty easy to read. He's a computer whiz, voiced by the same guy who plays Robin in the Teen Titans cartoons, and he's basically this adolescent sidekick type. Ivy, on the other hand, I could never quite figure out. And the show is unwatchable, so that didn't help much.

Like, okay, in 1994 I was 17, and I kind of had the hots for Ivy. She kind of looks like a prototype Kim Possible, so I guess that gives younger people an idea of what I'm talking about. I think I just assumed she was also 17, but sometimes the show plays her off like she's an adult. I mean, she's a professional detective, and she seems pretty experienced, and from what I've read she has a "history with Carmen" according to the show. The implication is that she's been working this job for several years, so maybe she started when she was Zack's age and she's about 24 now. I'm just spitballing.

On the other hand, that's kind of dumb. It's a kids show, and Zack's a kid, so why wouldn't Ivy also be a kid? You see her in the same scene with Carmen and it seems obvious. She's older than Zack, but not by that much.

On the other hand, the two detectives are in contact with a live-action character known as the "Player", which sort of suggests that the entire cartoon is taking place inside a computer game, and Ivy doesn't actually exist. That would explain why no one can find a woman in a bright red trenchcoat, and why Zack is considered the second most qualified person to catch her. So Ivy could be any age, or no age at all. She's not a character so much as an avatar for the faceless Player.

Anyway, I only got this far because I looked up information on the show over the course of the day, because I had completely forgotten the character's whole deal. I just remembered the red hair and the bomber jacket. But while I was looking it up, I found out they made a whole other Carmen Sandiego show in 2019, and in that one, Zack and Ivy are Carmen's accomplices, which kind of blew my mind. Apparently Carmivy is a popular ship in that fandom, so I feel less silly for crushing on Ivy in 1994.

I guess the point I'm trying to make here is that I always admired the Ivy design, even if the character concept was frustratingly vague and inconsistent. And this is just the example that I've been thinking about today. I find myself latching onto all sorts of obscure characters, wanting to find out more about them, and then getting frustrated when I learn there's not much to be had.

And this is my roundabout way of saying that of course I like the supporting cast of Dragon Ball. Characters like Tien and 17 and Zarbon are what make the whole thing come together, and a lot of them have lore that's much more satisfying than Ivy's.

[jimothystu]

this has been in my draft for uhhh too long lmao here are my thoughts on the sens season end medias. I was going to finish it by adding my thoughts on the goalies and then coaching media sessions but that did not happen so. incomplete and it's mostly me yelling about the vibes of this team

dmen

chabby, timmy, and brady all saying this year was the most fun they've ever had??

sandy getting to be besties with hammer and holden???

i am yet again shocked at how chych sounds. he just. does not look like he sounds like that. but more importantly. the first roadie with the sens, they had dinner and then all ended up back in his room?????? three guys on the bed, two on the couch, g and brass on the floor all of them just hanging out watching a show????? this team is just. so close. "I just love the group so much." OKAY YEAH CRYING NOW.

extend branny for fucking ever he's a gem.

hammer is so well-spoken. every time he has an interview i'm just. in awe at how in-depth and how like, genuine his answers are and not just generic ones. "My thoughts on Jake, how much time we got?" SO PROUD LIKE A BIG BROTHER. "All-star level player" "Should win the Calder" "Norris-level". holden also helping out a lot of the young dmen in the room and having a huge impact on jake's game :') SO eager and willing to come back and play more years with the sens. having the funnest time to the point where his mom and wife commented how happy he looked this year on the ice!!!

holden also so proud of jake!! but not coming back :/

forwards

captain brady!!!!!! being brutally honest about everything. the way he talks about g 🥹 the hopeful one two punch of timmy and josh!! proud of piner!!!! the PRIDE brady has in his entire team!!!!!!! mentioning the wedding 😭😭😭 praising dj and how amazing he’s been for the young players and (i think) wants him to keep being their coach! MORE PRIDEFUL COMMENTS ABOUT THE TEAM!!! HIS LOVE FOR AND BELIEF IN THE TEAM!!!!!! saying how much they felt the support of the fans this year 🥹

g and timmy playing pickle-ball 😭 g mentioning again how fun it is playing with the sens!! saying timmy’s great with gavin “they love playing with each other” “makes you feel like a family” SOBBING.

“special group in there” timmy also reiterating how amazing the vibes of the team are! his maturity about how it isn’t always about points, it isn’t always about how many shots you had - it’s about the team win. timmy and g being so competitive with games! timmy hating losing!!! SORE LOSER TIMMY! but also saying how important g is! how much of an influence he is and how much he helps brady leadership wise!! also talking about the importance of taking things game by game - again, his maturity and understanding of it all! praising piner! also commenting on how good dj is for the players. GIGGLING ABOUT BRADY CALLING HIM OUTRAGEOUS!!!! “he always took care of me” WE KNOW HE SPOILS YOU ROTTEN. “he wasn’t that funny before” TIMMY.

“they’re my good buds” shane 🥺 HE USED TO DRAFT G ON HIS FANTASY TEAM WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER XIWNDUANDIANK

the amount of “uuuumm”s brinksy uses— open to a long term contract! mentions how everyone spitballs ideas and how the coaches are open to what the players feel and think - good vibes!!

bathy gave pretty generic answers, but still seems as driven and eager as the other guys to do better and play well next year. G was his favourite player growing up!!!!! so many of the younger guys just adore him

“good, everything’s good. weather’s good” josh djwnduandjansk. being able to get back on the ice in a monthish!!!!!!!! god i hope he stays healthy next season. says how supportive everyone was and how it’s a “good group here”! THE VIBES OF THIS TEAM. “he’s (timmy) a special kid” 🥹 he bought a fucking keyboard “it’s not going too good” jdnshxnsjxn. he’s just. jdnwjdnajsn “other than that (almost losing forsy’s dog) not much” “i wouldn’t recommend you giving me your dog” “it was like a movie” JOSH. I LOVE YOU.

watty makes me happy. he gives fun uncle vibes. but had a broken foot for a MONTH but kept playing????? maybe not coming back, but would be open to it! i hope he stays. i appreciate how open and transparent about that and how jarring it was to move to ottawa in 2020. thinks g is one of the best players he’s ever played with 😭

[calliopethornton-watt]

Besties // self-para

The tracking spell worked better than she imagined. Calliope sensed a fit of deja vu as she nudged open the door of the apartment, previously utilizing the lessons her father taught about properly picking a lock and determining the spatial presence of occupants. Where Wilburn made up for his supernatural instincts, she lacked in the hearing gifted to those who were either vampires, or werewolves, in the case of her dear old pops. Magic is magic, however, and Gideon always had explained to the girl using her senses became vital as well as recognizing when other witches are in the vicinity.

The apartment’s interior appeared completely lived in, ordinary, and other than what Calliope noticed were patched up plaster along one of the walls, this wasn’t the lair of a dark witch capable of ruining so many lives to his very whim. Finding the place was easy, asking questions pointed the redhead in the correct direction and after containing her shock Alec was living with a hybrid, of course he was one of the first people she sought after her and Griffin’s arrival. None of it made sense, really.  The twins were catapulted into the fresh beginnings of a war waged by the council and then they were transported to a realm they did not recognize instantly. The full moon of the vision she and Griff shared, as Calli understood, came to pass.

Calli circled the couch with a curious nature, a hand running along the back of the furniture as her attention was directed to a framed picture set on a side table. Alec taking the photo as he stood next to a brunette woman, the pair of them looking somewhat tense, but still smiling. Calliope’s finger traced the brown wooden frame before eyes boring into the back of her neck sent the witch’s head slowly lifting. “I know you’re there.”

With his back pressed against the wall and one foot crossed over the other casually, Alec spent the last minute and a half unnoticed watching the young girl play explorer in his apartment’s living room. It hadn’t been long since the real him made his return after the spell Gideon and Ravenna performed went awry, enough to cause a mountain of problems. “Figured it’s only a matter of time before I saw you again, sweetheart.” In the flesh, and nowhere in a swirling black void holding him prisoner. They existed within the same physical plane, two witches, meeting by happenstance and connected by destiny. That is, at least for Alec, the way he saw it. “Bet your little visions didn’t prepare you for this one, huh?”

“Actually, it sort of did. I just didn’t realize what it meant.” Calliope set down the picture and turned around, pressing her hands to the table’s edge and leaning back slightly, “I still don’t really understand how this happened, how my brother and I are here. Killgrove looks the same, but there’s an unsettling vibe I can’t shake. To be fair, that’s nothing new even where I came from.” Her gaze scanned the room with wariness, shoulder lifting in a small shrug, “No one else but me can really sense it the way I do. Like us being here is ripping a hole in the fabric of reality. You...for example,” She paused, “You’re supposed to be dead.”

Alec considered this for a paused beat, looking his fellow witch over with the same curiosity he possessed when they first met, and raised his shoulders in a shrug, “And you’re at the center of it.” Dead, well, that was new and nonetheless unsurprising. Entertaining the possibility of alternate timelines fit himself as the crazy person, yet, was he not at his core? Psychotic? “You could potentially hold the power to break the universe, Calliope, in more ways than just one.” A spitball of a theory and accurate by witchy standards. “On any given Sunday, I wouldn’t hesitate making you a little more...agreeable and stealing that power for myself, but we’re besties, right? We’re bonded.”

“I cannot deny the accuracy even if you are a bigger drama queen than my brother. Real besties.” Calliope shot forward the retort, nonetheless cognizant of how crucial she became in the grander scheme. Maybe the twins’ appearance rattled reality, causing others to branch from the straight and narrow destiny wove carefully by design. “Seems like I’m already breaking the universe, Alec.” She lifted her hands slowly, gaze dropping to the lines etched on her palms as the young witch examined them, “Griffin and I all but obliterated the timeline we came from barely skated by toeing the line on the council’s shit list. Now I’m left standing here and feeling like the monster.”

Alec folded his arms across his chest and rose an inquisitive eyebrow. A monster? He hunted humans for blood sport and she calls herself a monster for unintentionally splitting the world from which she resided in perfectly even halves? No wonder why Calliope and Valentina would become fast friends almost instantly when both women shared the same monster complex brought upon by their growing abilities. “Okay, I’m going to regret this, but,”  His eyes flickered to the ceiling briefly before he released a mock defeated sigh, “What happened after you left me?”

“Like you actually give a shit.” Calli nearly winced at the bite of her tone, feeling as if the phrase was more in line with Griffin’s personality while also establishing the slight distrust of Alec that nearly everyone warned her about in the first place. Her twin urged a cautious air after she first stumbled upon the imprisoned witch, Gideon questioned the validity of Alec’s appearance, never needing to explain what a master manipulator his former coven member was. The warnings weren’t enough.

“Despite what literally every single person here thinks, I can, in fact...give a shit. A rare sighting, but only gifted to the select few.” Who and what he cared about was his choice, the aforementioned select few consisting of Valentina nowadays. Gaining his memory shrank his previous inner circle, as nonexistent as it was before, and now included a party of one. One person, that’s all he could trust. “Calliope, look at me.” Alec rubbed his hands together and offered a shrug, “I caused a rife for you and you for me. What happened?”

Calli shook her head in hesitation, scrambling for the explanation she did not owe him. Swallow it down and forget, sage advice her father would be proud to adhere. Wilburn could write the instruction manual on avoiding the emotional weight of personal trauma, which wasn't entirely healthy for anyone least of all his children, but she can't take that route. “I knew the risks with the spell. Someone prone to losing control over her powers should've been accompanied by a chaperone. Someone like Ravenna or my mom, or Gideon." The girl paused, gaze landing on Alec who she could just tell resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I wanted to find you again. You knew how my visions worked better than anyone, Alec, but it felt like every person in my family thought you either weren't real or playing some sick mind game."

Alec nodded once with complete agreement, "The manipulative asshole, an accurate assessment. You stumbled into a boundless void with a known psychopath capable of burning down cities on an average Saturday. Which," He hummed after a curt pause, "I realize is helping their case. Continue."

"I'm well aware. Do you know what happened instead, though?" Calliope rhetorically asked the question as she wrapped the leather cord containing the amulet allowing the twins to share their abilities around her index finger anxiously. "My migraines were growing worse and Griffin being the sacrificial brother decided he couldn't watch me suffer. He went looking for you with Ravenna's assistance and found Malcolm Winslow instead. My brother beat him to a pulp, but weird thing is," Calli pressed her lips together in perplexed thought, "Rav told me it looked like someone already got to him first."

"Wait," Alec's hand suddenly raised, recklessly interrupting the story's continuing path as the realization dawned on him. "Tell me...what are the chances your brother came upon Winslow after I happen to slip from my prison and used his body as a sledgehammer to wreck the shit out of his office? I mean, that'd be totally crazy and ruthless, right?" The man released a sarcastic snort. "That explains why Malcolm ranted like a fucking lunatic to our favorite little Chastain about encountering that twinsie of yours." Hilarious how the pieces clicked together in a sensible package with a neat bow adorning its top. Perhaps, Rav or Cassie would have believed the Alpha douche lost all sense after his head's been slammed around one too many times, yet it wasn't simple chalking up the coincidence to missing sanity when Alec corroborated the story with his Calliope sighting.

"Great, it's exactly what I knew would happen if we did that spell again. A bizarro jump to screw up the timelines." Calli pinched the bridge of her nose with frustration, mentally passing the reminder she kickstarted the trend. Finding Alec wasn't the intention when the spell began, but honestly, what else did she expect to find along her journey? A straight-forward answer? "Shit hit the fan when Griff arrived home. Apparently, justification to murder the sicko who attacked your mother makes you seen as the monster. And rather than my father thinking before he spoke, he lost his temper." The shame within her spread in waves and reverberated across the room toward the other witch, "I lost mine. There was a point where I wasn't certain if my anger mixed with Griffin's or I just...couldn't stand by in observation while he fell under such harsh scrutiny any longer, maybe both."

"We tried playing this perfect Brady Bunch family." Calliope continued as her dark eyes settled on Alec, who she has learned quickly didn't carry easily discernable body language. He wasn't looking bored by the interaction nor spinning its subject matter into a colossal joke. "All smiles, follow the rules, no larger spells that will place you on the council's radar, become the role model coven or suffer extermination. Griffin and I were both struggling under the expectations, but his abilities automatically pegged him an uncontrollable abomination according to public purview. I watched it destroy Griffin in every way a person could be destroyed. Now, they're gone." The statement passed her lips as a melancholic whisper while the day's past events came flooding back, sending the numbness away. "My brother and I singlehandedly killed our family."

In the rare instances the good Alec lost control of the reins, he would be the last to admit Valentina's influence already coursed through his soul and formed a new person nobody can recognize. There were developing soft spots where there weren't before, an ability to make a deep connection and actually, god forbid...sympathize. Alec's head slowly canted to the side as he listened, placing two and two together that the council held a stronger authority than what he knew from his own timeline. "You think you're the reason they came after you?" He asked after a moment, "Okay, look, sweetheart, and this is coming from someone who's killed a lot of people," Alec crossed the expanse of the living room to close their distance with a sigh, "You're not responsible for their deaths. I know this sounds counterintuitive, but I think the council were always gunning for putting an end to your family. They just," How can he put this? "Needed the excuse."

Calliope could appreciate the effort the older witch placed forward in an attempt to make her feel better, she did, but she wouldn't admit he initiated a perfectly valid argument. The Thornton coven's power ran blood deep spanning countless generations and none were stronger than the power of twins. Calli understood how unstable she and Griffin's abilities are alone, but together? They're unstoppable, dangerous, even, dangerous enough that the siblings could eradicate the council if they desired. "Now you're in the business of giving advice? That's new."

"Honestly, it's kind of draining." Alec sarcastically quipped without missing so much as a beat. "Be as that may, Callikins, every council member's worst nightmare is fear. Their so-called laws written into the fabric of your Killgrove were there to keep you subdued. If I know anything about your coven whether it be from my timeline or yours," The sentence in itself bewildering and fascinating at once, "You cannot tell me you wouldn't have snatched the opportunity to burn them all for your freedom. Any witch playing the involuntary submissive role would, but a dark one like you and me? It calls to us." Alec's lips twitched on the cusp of a smirk, the trademark mischievous glint in his eye triumphantly returning, "And I'll tell you why, love. There is absolutely nothing that would stop us from protecting the ones we care about, even if it meant torching the earth our enemies walk on."

Is she hallucinating or was he trying to manipulate her? Or was there a seed of truth to his preconceived notions as if Alec knew the redheaded witch like the back of his hand? "For the record," Calli pointed her index finger at him, "I'm not the type of person who wishes ill will towards someone. Maybe we're alike in certain aspects, but don't fool yourself into believing I would stoop to your level of treachery because I am most definitely my mother's daughter. However..." The sentence trailed as she folded her arms across her chest, "If anyone makes a move against my family, one hair out of place or even breathes in their direction, I will strike them down in any amount of suffering torment my magic allows. So, yes, perhaps that darkness you speak of does call to me, I mean, it's what we do to keep our blind spots close." Calliope nudged her head in the photo frame's direction, a slow smile touching her lips, "Like the woman. Your hybrid."

Alec couldn't exactly take what the girl said at proper face value, she was so quick to deny how similar the two witches were, but it was for argument's sake that he allowed her wallowing denial. If Calliope was as much as her mother's daughter as she claims, he could have easily pointed out the fact Cassie slaughtered her coven for what they did to her twin sister. Push came to shove and the little witch lost her twin brother Griffin, she would find herself succumbing to dark magic completely. Even in his now morally gray state, he couldn't contain satisfaction if he held that mirror in front of the redhead's face and became the reason she indulged her darker impulses. It seemed Calliope's mind shifted from depressing chat to a light-hearted conversation, however, mentioning Tina walked a very fine line into mushy territory. "Valentina. My hybrid." Alec scoffed at the accurate name. His, indeed. "Oh, sweetheart, you are such a tease."

"I'm the tease now?" Calliope released a hum and reached around behind her, retrieving the photo frame from the table and gripping both sides of it as she tilted the object left to right in front of Alec's face in a playful fashion, "I'm not the one who's all sprung over for his itty bitty baby crush, mister steal-your-girl."

"Hey." Alec shot out a hand and plucked the photo from her grasp, stealing a singular glance at his goody two shoes self and Valentina that had been taken before his release. He could still feel him somewhere, merged together with the previously imprisoned half. "Who says I'm sprung over? Maybe I'm the one who has her wrapped around my finger."

"Or maybe she's the one who has you wrapped around hers." Calliope raised her index finger the moment she sensed the man was seconds from opening his mouth and objecting. A tense silence settled between them, Alec shooting the younger girl a narrow glare and Calli's brows raising in a dare it appeared he wasn't inclined to steal. "You cannot tell me I'm wrong, Romeo." Calliope gently poked him in the stomach and moved around the couch before taking a seat, making herself quite at home for something told her this isn't the only time she would be within these walls. "What's the story?"

Alec pressed a palm to his abdomen and childishly grumbled his annoyance at her insistence. Someone like Calliope should be running away from him, why wasn't she cowering? Instead, he was now permanently chained to a tiny ginger who suddenly became an expert in all the methods to push his buttons. Well...you sink swimming against the tidal current. "From the details I can piece together, the other guy met her after I was imprisoned. They really became the bestest friendy-wends when she was turned, playing house, being their own little family, which I didn't think he could grow more nauseating." He wretched at the notion, bringing the frame still in his hand with him as he planted himself in a chair across from Calliope. "The little shit was starting to catch the feelings and my brief appearances weren't making things easier for both of us. One of my escapes happened around Tina. Shocking, but I pissed her off and she literally beat my mysterious life story out of me. We...connected." Oh, they connected on more than that singular event. "Malcolm tormented her on a level even I can appreciate had it been anyone else but her, we both had something similar in common."

His eyes shifted on the photo, his finger tracing Valentina's outline. "Good boy Alec confessing his feelings crossed some wires, blurred the lines. I escaped again and didn't hesitate starting a war with Malcolm. Anything that other side felt for Valentina was...wrapping its dark tendrils around me during the mind prison stint. So, the more I spent thinking about her," He placed the picture on the side table, "the more I wanted her."

Calliope settled in for the story, merely guessing that the answer to her question wasn't uncomplicated. Alec didn't correspond and ally himself with someone very easily, much less a former werewolf from the Winslow pack if the horror stories from her timeline were any indication. The Alpha tormented his members viciously, dolling out the abuse from every direction and spreading the fear of god into those who might have gathered a whisper of courage to oppose him. Alec found a kindred spirit with Tina through shared years' worth of torment and suffering. Was she wrong in the assumption the witch's good side developing feelings transferred to the supposed bad part when the cage shattered? "You love her."

Alec was swift to protest the contrary, absolute determination marring his features, "Listen, I don't-"

"Alec." Calliope silenced any argumentative denial he would have offered to block out the harsh reality with a warning note to her tone. "I know you present yourself as this big bad villain who's too evil to ever possess something somebody once forced you to believe is a weakness, but you essentially admitted it seconds ago." The young woman slowly leaned forward, "The line between you and the other guy blurred. You took on an alpha as a way of protecting her, somewhat easy to do as a witch if my brother's time with Malcolm proved anything, but you chose to do it in a selfless act for someone else." Calli released a sigh, "Listen, I know it's difficult to admit when you feel like you've been burned by even showing a scrap of emotion, but it's not weakness."

Alec pushed himself to his feet with an agitated groan, wanting nothing but to remove his presence from this entire conversation and forget about the complicated relationship with Calliope completely. She saw right through him, no matter the amount of teasing she endured at his hands, the girl ignored all of the stories she has heard about him and shattered every single barrier he spent centuries building. Just as Valentina accomplished. "It is weakness. If the Malcolm's and the council's of the world knew how close I held her, what stops any of them from punishing me for the crimes I commit when my execution's far overdue, huh? Hit where it really fucking hurts?" He ground out the response. "I don't deserve her."

"Is that what you really believe?" Calliope could give him the credit for his stoicism, but his façade was beginning to crack, she didn't require abilities to see what was in the man's soul. "This is only the second time we've met, Alec, but I feel like I know you better than I respectfully should. It's never been about what you do or don't deserve. Even I understand relationships aren't simple. Love," Calli threaded her fingers together and sighed softly, "isn't simple. The fact you care for her and she cares for you is."

"No, we're not doing this." Alec turned around and widened the space between him and Calliope, feeling the loss of his patience growing stronger. "You don't get to come here, sweetheart, preaching the same song and dance spiel I've had to endure from the former weakling intruder who took my body for a fucking joyride. My emotions, how sparse they might be, aren't wished into existence for you to analyze."

"I'm not trying to analyze you. I'm trying to help you like a good friend does." Calli was quick to point out. "You're running from something, aren't you?"

"Calliope, don't." The simmering wrath lacing his voice practically screamed at the girl to leave well enough alone.

Calli knew when to keep her mouth closed, hold her tongue, refrain from poking the bear, as her mother instructed since an early age. The council had disapproved of rocking the boat and free expression, but she was no longer in her timeline, and her parents...dead. So, she stole a page from her father's book and sought the answers with unrelenting perseverance. "What are you so afraid of?"

"Alright, fine, you want me to say it?" Alec spun on his heel and released the maddening thunderstorm swirling above their heads. Two dark witches standing in the eye of a hurricane he created. He couldn't handle it anymore. "I love her." The confession left the man raw, exhausted, confused as he was absolute. "Are you fucking happy?"

"Are you?" The statement tumbled past her lips and caught them both by surprise at the candor. There was a painfully awkward pause, Alec grappling his stunned silence and Calliope with her contemplative one. It was the latter who finally shattered it. "I don't think you've been happy for a very long time, Alec."

He chuckled sans the humor and playful mischievousness injected within his demeanor. No, he never has been happy. Wouldn't that be nice? "You should go, Callikins." Alec spoke after a minute. "Before your brother shows up here and lights my ass on fire."

"Right. I'm certain he'll have worse planned." With a curt nod of her head in agreement, Calliope rose from the couch and passed the older man before reaching the door. This day hadn't gone as anticipated the same way the conversation didn't, the twins were still thrust in a new scenario they would face together, and people who were dead from where she heralded were alive and kicking. New allies, new territory, a brand new Killgrove.

Any optimism Calliope adopted from the time spent with Alec imploded the second her hand wrapped around the doorknob. A piercing migraine squeezed the girl's head maliciously as the tell-tale sign of a vision clouded her gaze. She couldn't understand what she was peering at in the beginning, a horrifying sight, bodies strewn everywhere. Blood splattered the walls of what appeared to be a bar of some kind. A murder spree, a vicious game played by a psychopath relishing the kill. The images suddenly shifted into focus long enough for Calli's mind to latch on two faces quite familiar for her. Alec Merriman and her brother Griffin, both drenched in the same scarlet red liquid covering the heart in Alec's hand. Two were playing this game, a competition, an activity to pass the time. Griff's expression read boredom, as if uninterested by his best friend's dramatics. Best friends.

The vision's end sent Calliope's hand flying to the doorframe as she pressed her weight against it from the sheer force, her head snapping in Alec's direction with a fear coating her facial features that the other knew had not been there before. A fear of him. She watched the confusion furrow his brow as soon as their gazes locked and then...recognition. Alec knew she saw something that painted him in a gruesome light. He even sensed it, her uncertainty and uneasiness, neither knew if what Calli witnessed would happen in their future or another timeline. Maybe it would not happen at all.

Or perhaps, as Calliope finally made her willing exit, nothing was for certain. Every vision paved a road by choices, every vision came true one way or another.

She hasn't been wrong so far.

[throne-anguis]

Me, watching Across the Spiderverse: Welp. I'm changed forever and I'm going to use several scenes.

Anyways if you haven't watched the movie then please do if not for the animation then just the scenes that can happen.

Mainly because I keep on watching "Right To Remain Silent" scene and oops I keep on putting that with Ritsu and Hikari and all I can see Hikari saying is "I need you to stop being a cop and instead be my friend!" when they meet again.

Then I go and think about the implications about Hikari being a major player for the Moonshade Order's Plans and another way Arcanette can get him out of the playing field and stop him from being a threat to her. And that's through possibly notifying Temenos' organization about him being apart of the Moonshade Order and the reason why Temenos was on Radio Silence is because she found out that he took care of him, when in reality Temenos' messages has been intercepted and he's busy trying to figure out how to take down the Sacred Guard and much much more.

The best course of action would technically be, in Mindt's opinion, is to apprehend Hikari and isolate him so that he won't be able to summon Vide again.

Taking a lot from the Spider Man Chase Scene. Nothing like getting framed twice in the year and a half and being told that he isn't supposed to be here and that he's the reason why the Moonshade Order is quenching all the flames. Don't worry at that point I think he's just tired and refuses to let that stop him from getting to his friends and trying to help.

Idk i'm just spitballing I have many thoughts after watching that movie.

Oh shit. Wild ideas for Arcannette to go go off and become the villain. Ohh and the idea of that dynamic between Ritsu and Hikari tightening... Maybe after setting his brother back against him she directly gets involved and tries to help Ritsu get a hold of him and apprehend him to get him isolated as you said. Many ideas.

[english-mace]

another serpentcast episode we’d definitely never actually do, even were we still airing

so I watched the movie The Last Duel the other night, and it’s a very well done movie (and Jodie Comer is spectacular in it), which I could tell because oof, that one hurt.

it’s a movie about a rape.

I mean, no, it isn’t - which is sort of the point. it’s a movie about the relationship between two men - their friendship on a medieval battlefield, the bitter turn it takes via jealousy over one man’s success, & then the final, irrevocable titular ‘last duel’ which concludes this story in blood - whose catalyst just happens to be the rape of one man’s wife by his former brother-in-arms.

its structure is like The Handmaid. we start from one person’s (extremely unreliable) viewpoint and follow the story through almost ‘til the end, then swap back to the other, and it’s all very Arthurian derring-do, knights stabbing each other and gathering rent from peasants and liege lords debauching other people’s wives etc etc BUT THEN. then the movie unravels itself and says: okay, now it’s her turn.

and by that point, you almost want to ask ‘her? her who?’ because in the mens’ tales Marguerite is a trophy, she’s pretty and dutiful or brilliant and stifled, depending, but not a person. the movie is very explicit that it’s her version that’s the truth, her building relationships with other women that the men never notice, her finding out from her hated mother-in-law that she was raped, too, and never did anything about it, because that’s what’s expected, of a good noble wife. it’s Marguerite saying to her husband, in the aftermath: “I will not be silent,” but also: “I have no legal standing without your support.”

Because rape is a property crime. Against him.

And that made me think of the movie Promising Young Woman. (For which: spoilers.)

In Promising Young Woman, we know from the absolute start that assault is not a crime. Cassie spends her nights tricking and terrorising men who cross the line - who grope her when she’s playing blackout drunk, who try to force sex from her - because threatening and scaring them might be an effective deterrent against doing the same thing to another young woman who isn’t just pretending. whereas reporting them - to the police, or anyone else - won’t. these men, like the men who assaulted her friend and traumatised her so badly she killed herself, would face no real consequences under the law, or any daylight system of justice.

the way the movie ends, then, answers the question Cassie’s been screaming the whole film long: how far would they need to go, for it to matter to someone? for it to be irrevocable?

it takes her death. and man, is that a bitter fucking victory.

but of course, in this fictional Be The Serpent episode I’m definitely not spitballing on my own here, we need a third tentpole. and after watching The Last Duel, a title was rattling around in my head, though I couldn’t remember where from. Theft of Assets; Destruction of Property.

it’s a Helenish fic, turns out. Draco/Neville. (I’d thought it was a livejournal-era media-fandom piece - SGA, Due South, something like that - when I was half-remembering why it was so linked in my mind. right era, wrong fandom.) it’s an arranged-marriage fic, with up-and-coming-auror Neville and fragile-upper-class Draco.

the ‘assets’ and ‘property’ of the title? Draco. or more specifically, Draco’s virginity. which was supposed to be Lucius’s to parcel out; he intended to do so, to a war-time acquaintance with a nasty ritual planned, only to get a bit of a surprise about Draco’s eligibility.

it’s a shockingly feminised role, really. narratively speaking. I’m not sure I can think of anywhere I’d expect to see it land on a man other than fanfic. and it is, like Promising Young Woman, and somewhat The Last Duel, an exploration of the aftermath of trauma when one has no agency to seek recompense. (to be explicitly clear: there is no actual rape in Theft of Assets.)

I think that’s what I keep circling around, when I’m thinking about the ways narratives use rape (in a non-trivialised way, that is - GoT can fuck right off). the impotence. the ways trauma becomes a stone you bite down around; the things we choose to traumatise mostly-women with, that render them either shattered or, if filled with rage, unable to achieve restitution. loss makes men noble; in The Last Duel, the ‘loss’ of his exclusive access to his wife is something Jean de Carrouges can force an answer to at sword-point. whereas his mother Nicole de Carrouges rape can only be endured, and metastasized, until the only thing she can say to her daughter-in-law Marguerite’s protestations that she truly was raped?

“The truth doesn’t matter.”

I tried to think more about how one traumatises men, in fiction, other than the loss of a partner or a child; war, I think. the loss of companions, the things one must remember for the rest of one’s life, the bodily trauma. but too often, I think, we don’t? traumatise them, that is. or at least we don’t sit down in the narrative and give that trauma an arc, we pretend that suffering is only ennobling, because what Arthurian knight has PTSD, after all.

the agency to seek recompense oneself, or to at minimum have the arrogance to believe recompense is possible, isn’t just gendered - it cuts across entrenched power differentials wherever they exist. but I think the expectation of emotional arc here is strongly gendered, and is a way fanfiction transgresses, to allow this to men at all.

...and even I have turned around my own post on media’s fascination with sexual coercion and its effects on women... to think about the impact on men. argh. where was I.

the first time we see the rape of Marguerite de Carrouges - because we do see it. twice - it’s from the point of view of her rapist. it’s choreographed, and even scripted, to directly reference an earlier consensual sexual encounter with a different woman. to Jacques le Gris, this is a story of forbidden love. the only sin here is adultery.

Marguerite’s own portrayal of the attack shreds that to pieces.

Promising Young Woman grabs you by the throat and says: this is bad. this thing which happened, which keeps happening, is fucked up and wrong, even if verdicts like Brock Turner keep coming down the way we knew they would, even if tapes describing sexual assault can’t prevent a man being elected President, even as we each go about our lives with that co-worker or neighbour or brother-of-a-friend who thinks it’s just so hard for men to live scared of being accused, these days.

Theft of Assets says: your own sexual agency matters. Your parents don’t own you, but neither do your partners.

And maybe that’s why I keep reading about, or watching films about, rape: when done well, they feel like an antidote to the gaslighting.

But boy, do I wish we didn’t need it.

[poisonousneedlekitty]

Some not so great theories emerging out of chapter 2 in Deltarune.

Okay so this theory is really sad but there is room to make it better.

So darkners right? Things left behind or pieces of childhood embedded with enough of a spark or soul, based off their usefulness. Ralsei tells us ( and all the villains) as much every major fight. We are now collecting up these leftovers things and combining them together to be ruled in basically a Neverland where they cant be hurt or forgotten. (The fact that they get to be ruled under a likeness of Kris' most cherished person is only a nail in the coffin imo.)

So then where are we headed? Well at the end of this episode we see the TV which had been gathering dust and was even unplugged is now back in use. Kris activated the fountain so nostalgic cartoons and movies is probably next, after all what kids wasnt down to watch cartoons with their siblings at the very least on a saturday morning on ritual . Thanks to Alphys and Undyne being here we may even get some Anime!

(I am spitballing that jockington and probably our resident goth cat whose his best bud, and the amount of sports trophies that Asriel had in his room leaves old sporting equipment, scooters, jump-rope, any nostalgic equipment, as a possible chapter as well if we do keep using classmates.)

The 'titans' as referenced in this chapter are just 'grown ups' tossing out old memories and stuff they have outgrown, that is where the main point of my theory comes in. We can possibly assume that one such titan would be Noelle's mother the very practical, busy, and no nonsense madam mayor. I have a big feeling that we will get to play as our lovely deerling again soon to deal with that, as it was made obvious by Queen that she's really an at risk character. To be fair it's a very possible Susie's absentee/ busy parent will be another but I dont feel confident with that particular one yet. It would make for a lovely found family though and push these two cuties closer.

Now finally dear Kris, our shell of a protagonist. Kris is very clearly suffering from abandonment issues ( similar to the darkners they are interacting with) We do have confirmation after this chapter that they have created at least one fountain. Can we assume this is just an 'evil act' not by a long shot. You see that's where the saddest part comes in. All these heroic acts, all the friends we are making, that's us, piloting the shell of a child, that all our classmates and adults even agreed are not acting like,"themselves." They are not, they are just a kid left behind (the only real human in this town of monsters, left by their closest friend and brother when they went off to school and probably before that too as Asriel got older) They are desperate and we keep shoving a determination based soul in their chest and squashing down how they get to feel and act. The scariest part is when they put us back. They are scared of being alone so much they'll let us puppet them to keep their new friends so they wont be so lonely. I kind of hope I am wrong but I have the feeling I'm not that far off.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 19, part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Chilling in Yiling

We start off with Wei Wuxian hanging out in a busy area of Yiling, which is a really dumb place to pick for a fugitive rendezvous.  

He's wearing a fashionably distressed brown robe, and a woven disguise hat, that makes him invisible to his enemies until the moment he takes it off, kinda like the mask he wears in his second life. Unfortunately he is a polite boi so he takes off the disguise hat when he goes indoors to get a bite to eat, and promptly gets smacked down by Wen Zhuliu. 

Xiao Zhan's stunt double is really good at this wire-pull+table-smash move; this is the second time Wei Wuxian goes crashing through a table (the first one being when Yu Ziyuan was beating him). This time he clutches his now core-less abdomen, in a move we're going to be seeing a lot of, going forward. Abdominal surgery is a bitch. OP can personally attest to this.

Wen Zhuliu provides some comic relief by looking at his hand in puzzlement; he clearly can tell Wei Wuxian has no golden core, but he isn't going to bother telling Wen Chao that.

Wen Chao gloats and steps on Wei Wuxian's hand while Wei Wuxian stares at his shoe and OP wonders, not for the first time, how they make rubberized zig-zag treads in Ancient Fantasy China.

(more after the cut)

This is all happening in the Yiling Wine house where Wei Wuxian will later share the most important meal of his life, the one in which A-Yuan lays claim to Lan Wangji, ultimately giving LWJ a reason to live long enough for Wei Wuxian to be resurrected. If that doesn’t deserve a good Yelp review, nothing does. 

Dream a Little Dream of Me

While Wei Wuxian gets ready for his big whump scene, Jiang Cheng is dreaming, and looking absolutely breathtaking in this deceptively simple robe, that's made of a really complex fabric, that catches the light all over its surface.  The lighting here is warm and romantic, giving everything a nostalgic glow.

He looks around the courtyard in his dream, and sees Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian come running in the gate carrying kites. 

A child fetching a kite was the first casualty of the Wen attack on Lotus Pier, so this image may already be a little fraught for Jiang Cheng. In this initial image of his family, Jiang Cheng isn't present as a child, but then his junior self comes running up, to be warmly greeted by his mother.

Jiang Cheng's reaction to the scene playing out in front of him is not a simple one. We've seen him externally expressing his trauma at the fate of Lotus Pier and his family - his anger and his despair - and this dream shows us his private, interior trauma. 

His body has been repaired by Wei Wuxian and the Wens, but his psyche has not.

This family interaction can't possibly be one that ever happened. It's too lively, too affectionate, too comfortable. The family he was part of as a young adult was cold, angry, cracked.  Families don't change that much in 10 years, unless there's a major trauma that alters things in a fundamental way.

Even the glimpses we got of his childhood contradict this image. This warm group is not the family of "I sent your dogs away" or "wait in the cold until Jiang Cheng lets you in" or "I won't tell Clan Leader Jiang what happened" or "I'm only 11 but I'm in charge of soup and bedtime already"

Jiang Cheng smiles at the affection he sees enacted in front of him, but quickly moves to grief. When a toxic person dies, you don't just lose the relationship you had with them; you lose the hope for a better relationship. Perhaps Jiang Cheng has always imagined this version of his family; now nothing like it can ever come to be.

The pleasant scene vanishes into nightmare, as his mother starts bleeding from her eyes, ew. This is like Nie Mingjue when he qi deviates, but dream Yu Ziyuan is perfectly chill about it. 

Jiang Cheng is not perfectly chill about it. 

He turns around to see Lotus Pier burning. When he turns back, his family has been replaced with Wen Zhuliu, who is particularly gleeful as he reaches into Jiang Cheng's chest and melts his core.

Jiang Cheng wakes up on the mountain, alone (as far as he knows), and quickly stands and boots up his new golden core.

It's purple, because of course it is. King. The nightmare is gone and he smiles, maybe for the first time since the attack on the pier.

In a moment that is probably going to feel really embarrassing in hindsight, he kneels and bows toward the mountaintops to thank Baoshan Sanren, who is totally not there. 

Wen Ning, on the other hand, is there, although we only see a little bit of his belt and robe as Jiang Cheng walks off to Yiling to meet his brother.  This entire plotline walks a very weird line in which the audience is told just enough about what’s really happening to be confused, but not surprised.

Do the Whumpty Whump

After some initial roughing up, Wen Chao has his dudes stand Wei Wuxian up so he can question him without actually getting any information out of him at all. They take turns calling each other dogs, with Wei Wuxian saying that when Wen Chao talks he just hears a dog barking. (Of course if he really heard a dog barking he'd be terrified) 

Then he says "isn't that right" to Wang Lingjiao, and Wen Chao gets super pissed; don't disrespect me to my woman. 

He has his minions do a Nancy Kerrigan to Wei Wuxian's knee and then kick him for a while.

Then they kick the shit out of the camera operator.

Wen Chao is really not about fighting his own fights.  He also keeps threatening to have Wen Zhuliu melt Wei Wuxian's core, and Wen Zhuliu keeps popping up his hand and then putting it back when Wen Chao changes his mind, which gets more hilarious every time I watch it. Feng Mingjing’s physical embodiment of Wen Zhuliu is endlessly entertaining, even in scenes where he has literally no lines. 

I Ain’t Afraid of No Ghost

Wei Wuxian continues to goad Wen Chao, telling him that more torture is good because then he'll die with loads of resentment. He says that after he dies, he will come back as a ferocious ghost, which is...almost exactly what happens, except he stays alive for the ferocious part. 

They go back and forth about the feasibility of this whole haunting plan. Wang Lingjiao is the voice of reason, for once, arguing the "ghosts aren't real and anyway fuck this guy" position.

Wen Chao thinks that he can’t haunt them because of cultivator security hardening procedures soul-calming rituals, but Wei Wuxian wasn't born into a gentry family so didn't have the anti-fierce-ghost treatment that other cultivators get.

This is the only time in the whole of the show when Wei Wuxian says, himself, that he's the son of a servant. He's using his reputation as a commoner to bolster his threats. 

Wei Wuxian is working hard to put on a scary-guy persona, which works pretty well on Wang Lingjiao but not as much on the rest of the group. Three months from this time, however, he will have become the scary, vengeful creature he's currently spitballing about.  He will also become way, way better at torture than the people who are currently mistreating him. 

Wang Lingjiao and Wen Chao go through a whole sequence of ideas about what to do with him. For whatever reason Wang Lingjiao doesn't insist on chopping his arm off even though she's been craving it for ages. 

She does gleefully burn his burn some more, causing it to bleed directly into the giant obvious bag he has hanging from his belt leaking resentful energy. Which the Wens do not take away or search.

Wen Chao, incidentally, starts calling him Wei Ying during this encounter, which is rude of him. Tch.  Finally Wen Chao decides on a plan, which involves sword-flying effects so terrible that no soul can survive them.

Jiang Cheng is looking for Wei Wuxian in town, wearing a woven hat like Wei Wuxian’s.  This...is not a disguise. If you want to be inconspicuous, maybe take that giant piece of silver off of your head.

He hears random people talking about the Wens being in town, and then he apparently looks up at the sky and sees the Wen dudes flying on their swords with Wei Wuxian, but it looks so ridiculous that Jiang Cheng's mind cannot process what he is seeing.

While they "fly," Wen Chao delivers a massive brick of exposition about the burial mounds, while Wei Wuxian looks genuinely frightened. The VFX of random, undifferentiated mountaintops and clouds do nothing to sell this menace, but the exposition is actually pretty good, creating a real sense of disturbance and threat.

Then they toss him in, and we go from the terrible VFX of sword flying to a visual effect that they mercifully did really well throughout the show - the black resentment smoke. This time it catches Wei Wuxian and holds him for a few moments, before dropping him the rest of the way to the ground. It also apparently pulls the turtle sword out of his belt bag, but we don't see that part.

They Say That Every Man Must Fall

Having seen Wei Wuxian at his lowest point (so far) and dream Jiang Cheng also in deep distress, we go to the Dafan Wen sibs, who have also reached a breaking point. Because they helped Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, they are traitors to their clan - unquestionably so - and are being punished for it, with Wen Ning having been tortured in addition to being locked up.

I see my light come shining From the west down to the east Any day now, any day now I shall be released

You know how Lan Xichen successfully argued for Wen-Clan-Member Meng Yao's life and status, because Meng Yao betrayed Wen Ruohan to help them? Even though Meng Yao killed a bunch of Nie guys? Wen Ning and Wen Qing also betrayed Wen Ruohan and helped the Sunshot Campaign, without killing a bunch of guys. They should have been treated as allies by the four other clans, but they got diddly.  

I’ve Been Dead Once

We return to Wei Wuxian in the burial grounds, where he's lying on the ground surrounded by resentful energy and by strained, desperate voices calling his name. This whole sequence is remarkable, since it effectively communicates the horror he's experiencing, through little more than Xiao Zhan's face and good sound design.

I hang around dying to be tortured  You'll never be alone in the bone orchard

The voices call four versions of his name. A variety of voices call him Wei Wuxian, Wei Gongzi, and Shixiong, which (I think) is what the young Jiang disciples would have called him. And in the midst of those voices, Lan Wangji's voice, low and calm, saying "Wei Ying." Upon hearing that Wei Wuxian starts to drag himself up.

For a show with definitely no zombies in it, they sure do use the visual language of zombie films for Wei Wuxian's first motions after hitting the ground. Starting with twitching fingers, then gradually pulling himself halfway up and crawling, lurching across the ground. Wei Wuxian comes slowly back to life, the very first member of his army of the dead.

He makes his way across the ground toward the floating turtle sword. Along the way he accidentally grabs the world's most bowlegged thigh bone; the lack of sunshine in the burial mounds puts the skeletons at risk for rickets.  All of the skeletons in the show are exactly what you would expect from the practical effects team that made the demon hand and the animatronic dog.

The turtle sword is roiling with resentful energy, and is talking to Wei Wuxian as he crawls toward it, asking if he wants revenge. And what a coincidence, he DOES want revenge. 

He grabs the sword and plunges it into the ground in an explosion of resentful energy. (Ground: why you gotta take it out on me?)

The sequence ends with the most compelling, ominous shot of Wei Wuxian's face...a new man. 

Soundtrack: 1. I Shall Be Released by Bob Dylan 2. Beyond Belief by Elvis Costello  

Writing Prompt: The Day Wei Wuxian arrived, from the POV of a Burial Mounds ghost. 

[sokkas-honour]

Black sheep: prologue -mako x reader

pairing: mako x fem!reader 

summary (rlly need to work on this):  they met working for the triads but sadly, leaving the criminal life behind isnt as easy as the brothers or their closest friend thought.

w.c: 1.2k

note: it’s my first time writing in a while so there might be a bunch of mistakes so feel free to point them out! also request for any atla/lok/tdp ship and character are open!! also massive thanks to @biqherosix for helping me out and listening to be spitballing :)

tw: mention of a gang (triad), slight mention of parents death but no details

taglist (always open): @biqherosix @draqondance (hopefully you dont mind)

prologue - part 1 

—————

“Ah y/n, there you are. Did you get the message to Viper?” Lightning Bolt Zolt asked you as you entered their hideout. You nodded, you’d been recruited by the triad a couple of days after the incident that resulted in your parents death which had been at least a year ago. They were surprisingly welcoming and the leader had taken a small liking to you but he’d never say that out loud. You had sworn your allegiance to the Triple Threats meaning you got full protection from the triad, a place to live and even bending instructors. 

The current hideout where you lived was situated under an earth kingdom inspired bar and was dimly lit by a couple of lamps hanging from the ceiling that shone a light in a small circle. The rest of the room was lit by candles that firebenders turned on and off. One of the black lamps sat right on top of a table where elder members gambled and played cards, it illuminated the table just enough for the people that played but barely affected the younger members around who were oh so desperately trying to see what was going on.

Near the back of the room that you first saw as you came down the stairs was a small bar counter where the majority of the alcohol and food sat. Lightning Bolt Zolt also had a velvet seat in front of said counter where he had a clear view of the entire common room. A lamp also hung above the bar counter but he had a couple of candles lit around him in order to seem more menacing.

Once you came down the stairs from the staff room of the bar, a couple of steps into the common room, there was a corridor that lead to a few rooms that only the higher ranked members could use but they had given you the smallest one in order to keep you safe as well as keep an eye on you. The senior members weren’t always there, they sometimes switched from hideout to hideout or lived in their own houses but always had a room in the basement in case they needed to hide from the cops or lay low for a while. Someone in the higher ranks was always on thin ice with the law so you usually had someone like Zolt, Zhen or even Shady Shin sleeping in a room across from you.

“Wanna take a go at firebending?” The leader asked before you exited the room. They were aware of your bending abilities but had noticed that you seemed very reluctant to even use your gift. They usually had a strict bending only policy but they made an exception for you as you were great at relaying messages between members, deep down though, they hoped you’d start firebending again because you showed so much promise in your hand to hand combat training.Occasionally puffs of fire would come out when you really got into your sparring sessions but refused to make anymore than that.

Much to Zolt’s dismay you shook your head. With a sigh, Zolt grabbed an apple that had been freshly bought that sat on the bar counter and extended it to you with a small smile. “No problem, remember Zhen is always available for more hand to hand combat. Isn't that right Zhen?” Zolt turned his head to make eye contact with the older member who nodded slightly before returning to his card game.

You shook your head but gladly took the apple out of his hand, only realising then that you hadn’t eaten since that small bowl of rice you had for breakfast. He excused you with a curt nod. You took that as your cue to leave the room infested with the criminals that had served as your family for the past year and head to the privacy of your room. Your room was quite small, just big enough for a bed and a small sort of hopper widow that gave you a small view of the bustling streets of Republic city. Thousands of people walked by you and the bar everyday and had no idea that the eldest triad were hidden there. You adored people watching even though you could barely see people’s feet. Next to your bed was a small bedside table with a candle that had been turned on by some firebender while you were gone. You only had a select choice of clothing notably three pairs of red pants to honour your fire nation heritage, two plain shirts, a white tank top and a beautiful blue dress that Shady Shin had gotten for your birthday not too long ago so you’d have something fancy in case you ever needed one. A few female members had promised to take you on shopping sprees when you got older so you’d blend in better as you grew. 

You also had a small stack of books that meant the world to you near your bed. They were your parent’s and one of them was your favorite book of Fire Nation legends and you reread whenever you missed them. You had no idea what you’d do if you lost it and you could never buy it again as your mother had even written little notes in it and doodled in it, she had even included a family picture. She had planned on keeping the book when you grew out of it so she could give it to you as a 16th birthday present but unfortunately, that’ll never happen.

An hour or so after you had finished your apple, Zolt called for you. His voice carried all the way to your room so you jumped up and quickly made your way to the common room. You noticed that the majority of the newer members had left and only select senior members like Zhen were still gambling. You made it to the leader’s side when you finally noticed that Shady Shin stood in front of the lightning bender with two boys next to him. One looked to be around your age, you would’ve guessed 14 at the most. He had jet black unkempt hair and sharp tangerine eyes, making you believe that he must’ve had some sort of fire nation heritage. The boy next to him was shorter and looked 10, maybe 11 and looked way too innocent to be anywhere near a triad but then again, so did you. The younger one had similar black hair but instead had green puppy eyes.

“Meet your new teammates, they’ll be living on and off around here but we’ll mostly help you with messages and accounting.” Zolt introduced them, extending a hand to show the two brothers. “Now y/n darling, why don't you give them a small tour of the place while I talk with Shady Shin over here.”

You nodded and indicated the brothers to follow you down a hallway opposite to the stairs as opposed to the rooms that lay adjacent to them.

‘I’m y/n, what about you two?” You asked as soon as Shady Shin and Zolt were out of ear shot. Whenever Zolt asked you to not listen to a conversation you obeyed, he was still after all a powerful and dangerous man. The taller boy spoke for the both of them.

“I’m Mako and this is my brother Bolin.”

[tomurakii]

Okay so I already did my freak out meme post about this spoiler scan, now it’s time for analysis!!!

So immediately, the first thing that comes to my mind is the white hair. I’ve always thought Touya had white hair and I prefer him with white hair in art/fics, because I feel like it makes more sense with the specifics of his quirk than the red does. That’s just personal opinion though.

Secondly, is the inevitable fact that it seems pretty clear that Touya is dead. In the spoiler chapter translations I’ve seen, this panel shows up when Enji himself goes to their alter and says something about a dream he’d been having (one where his family is happy but he isn’t there) and he says that he wants to know what he can do to fix it, and that he wishes Touya was there. This, coupled with the recent panels of Fuyumi praying, makes it seem pretty clear that they think he’s dead.

Now, when it was just Fuyumi, I’m sure we all thought that maybe Enji just covered up his escape/his life in general and that Touya went on to be Dabi, or perhaps Geten. (I do not like the Geten theory at all, I mean if Touya had had both quirks like people claim in that theory then none of the other children would exist, Enji would’ve stopped at the perfect creation.)

But now that we know that Endeavor seems to legitimately believe his son is dead—he was alone in this scene, there wouldn’t be anyone to pretend for—I cannot for the life of me think of some kind of situation that would allow Touya to be alive. If he’d escaped the hospital, Enji would know. If he was still alive in the hospital, people would visit him instead of praying to a picture that seems nearly 20 years old (depending on Touya’s current age, though I like to think he and Fuyumi are twins) in their house.

Based on recent panels, I’m legitimately concerned that Touya is just dead, that Dabi is just a random angry black-haired dude who has some similarities to a deceased Todoroki, and that Geten is just some equally angry ice bitch with similar ideals to the current number 1 Hero.

Finally, is this really the best picture they have of him? Around 5 or so years old, not smiling, how old was Touya when he “died?” We can assume that he’s around until at least Shouto’s burn scar since he’s there playing soccer and falling over, but past that I don’t believe we get an appearance, since the ages of the kids in this:

panel aren’t confirmed. We know Touya is meant to be the oldest sibling, but if we take into account the twins possibility then he would currently be 23 at minimum, and probably 27 at maximum, since Enji wouldn’t wait very long past quirk manifestation to pump out the next child. That makes him at least 8 years older than Shouto, or at minimum 13 years old at our last confirmed time in the Todoroki household.

So again, why is this the picture they’re using? Surely when praying to your deceased son/brother, you’d want the most recent picture you could get, right? Well, I have a potential answer to that: Touya didn’t look very good past the time this picture was taken.

Touya’s health is an issue that’s kind of skirted around, we never find out for sure exactly how sick he was, or exactly what his cause of death ended up being. Of course, there’s his quirk, his stunted growth, he seems extra skinny too, but other than that we don’t get info as to why. Most people assume he “died” in the fire that caused his burns, but there’s always the possibility that those burns came earlier. I mean, looking at this panel, he seemed pretty healthy and unscarred at this point, catching up to his sister in height, he looks okay.

Except we don’t see his face. We’ve never gotten to see his face until now, perhaps the reason they use this photo at the alter is because upon the manifestation of Touya’s quirk, the scarring from his training was so bad that they stopped taking photos, or perhaps the more recent photos are simply too painful to look at. Maybe it went exactly like that, quirk manifestation, burns, sickness, “death.” Maybe he died in a ball of rage-fueled fire in the Todoroki household like so many people seem to like to say, maybe they all watched him pass slowly in a hospital bed. The situation he was in would be mentally and physically taxing for a regular person, imagine the strain on a person who’s already injured and weak.

I’m honestly just spitballing here, but this one scene brings up a lot of theory fodder for Touya. I’m honestly a little terrified because it really seems that Touya died, but we’ll have to hold out for the next little bit of info.

[jmeelee]

The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Stiles and Derek’s Cat

Sterek Week 2019 • Mystery

Rating: T (for swearing and lite innuendo)

Word Count: 2.1 K

***********

Derek flips on his blinker, and the taxi driver riding his ass swerves around the Camaro, rolling down a window and shouting something indecipherable while Derek pulls into the fire lane in front of the airport. His sister walks through the automatic doors as he climbs out and pops the trunk, a parting blast of air conditioning blowing her dark shoulder-length hair around her head like a demonic halo. She’s dressed in an old band t-shirt with a black blazer layered over top, and ripped skinny jeans, one hand gripping the handle of her rolling luggage, the other pressing a ratty book to her chest.

“It seems stupid for a werewolf to be superstitious,” Cora greets, handing Derek the leather-bound album, “but I didn’t want to take the chance of it getting lost in the mail.”

He pulls her close in a one-armed hug; Cora was never the overly affectionate type, but distance and pseudo-death make the heart grow fonder. “I appreciate you lugging it all this way. Stiles has been asking me a lot of family questions since he started emissary training, and I wanted to put some faces to the names he’s been hearing.” Pictures that aren't attached to obituaries, he silently adds.

She tosses her suitcase into the trunk, dusty wheels leaving a streak of dirt across the upholstery, and slams it closed, climbing in through the passenger door Derek holds open. “Alpha Varela had a decent amount, and Alpha Ogden gave me a half-dozen,” she supplies as he slides behind the wheel and pulls out into traffic, “but they only fill up a quarter of the pages. It’s pretty pathetic.”

She reaches out a hand, lovingly runs fingers over the brown cover embossed with a triskelion.

“It is,” Derek concedes, “but it’s better than nothing.” His fingers itch to flip through the meager pages immediately, pour over the pictures like Cora’s been able to do, and bring his long-dead family back to life, but it will have to wait through rush hour traffic and a trip to the pet store. They’re out of cat food, and Agnes Nutter—the stray orange tabby Stiles fell in love with when he started spending so much time with Deaton at the vet clinic, and proceeded to drag home—has been known to take claws to the curtains, leather couches and freshly painted walls when dinner isn’t served on time.

“We’re back!” Derek calls through the front door an hour later, pulling his key out of the lock.

Cora drops two five-pound bags of dry food to the entry-way floor. “How much does this damn cat eat?” She laughs. Derek shrugs, wet food cans clanking in the bags hanging from his hands. The album is tucked securely under his armpit.

“I’m in the family room!” Comes Stiles’ disembodied voice. Derek detours to the kitchen to stock the cat food in the walk-in pantry and Cora heads to the back of the house to greet her brother-in-law. He’s only moments behind her, but when he finally rounds the corner into the family room, his little sister’s face is shifted, snarls twisting out of her throat through elongated teeth, and Stiles is sitting on the couch, eyes wide, laptop in one hand and the other raised, palm out, sparks sizzling along his fingertips. Acrid ozone spikes the air.

“What. The. Hell.”

“I don’t know, dude!” Stiles’ voice trills and Derek doesn’t have the time to admonish his husband for calling him dude. “She rolled in here and didn’t even say hello! Just went all grrrr-” his nose does the scrunchy little thing Derek secretly loves, top teeth bared like an adorably angry hamster- “and scared the shit out of me.”

“It’s that...thing,” Cora rasps, pointing a claw-tipped finger at Agnes Nutter, calmly lording over the room from Stiles’ blanketed lap, like a ginger queen on a throne.

Stiles drops his laptop to the couch cushion, wrapping his now free arm around Agnes, who’s yellow eyes squint in annoyance at the vigorous display of affectionate protection. “What’s your problem with my cat? Does the lupine-feline rivalry actually run that deep?”

“Really, Stiles? Dog jokes? Now?” Derek rubs at a tension headache brewing over his left eyebrow.

“Stiles,” Cora commands through sharp white teeth, “get away from it. It’s a demon.”

Agnes answers the accusation with a charming little “meow,” and rubs a paw over her docked left ear.

“Put your teeth away. She’s my pet!” Stiles shrieks.

“Derek. Get the photo album,” Cora orders.

Derek glances back toward the kitchen. He can see the book sitting on the granite countertop, but is loathe to leave the room. “Is this really the best time for a Hale family history lesson?”

“You bet your hairy ass it is. Go get those pictures. Now.”

Derek’s never been more grateful for supernatural speed. “Here.” He hands the album to his sister, who flips open to the second page, turns the book around and hands it back to him.

At first, Derek’s baffled. What do his unearthed family photos have to do with a c—

An orange and white striped cat that’s sitting on his grandmother’s lap, when she was roughly thirty years old. A cat that twists around his mother’s ankles as she stands on tip-toe to kiss his father on the cheek, while toddler Laura plays in the background. A cat that lingers behind his great-grandfather as he cuts the ribbon at the dedication ceremony for the Beacon Hills preserve. The last photo is in black and white, but this cat, like the others, has a docked left ear.

“Stiles…” Derek looks up at his husband. Agnes stares at him with slanted eyes. He does the math in his head. At least fifty years…

Stiles groans, head lolling on the back of the couch. “Don’t tell me she’s a Flerkin. I knew I should have named her Goose.”

“Not a Flerkin,” Cora says. “But definitely something.”

Agnes jumps off Stiles’ lap and calmly pads over to her empty food dish, flops down next to it, and lets out a loud, piercing howl.

“Get the cat carrier,” Derek says. “We’re going to Deaton’s.”

———-

“Why did you let me adopt a time-traveling cat?!”

Deaton, as usual, says nothing in face of Stiles’ hysterics. Agnes dangles from Stiles’ outstretched arms, held at a forty-five-degree angle like a domesticated lion king. She blinks, whiskers twitching. Derek feels her pain; the overlapping scents of animal, iodine and industrial-grade disinfectant makes him want to hurl.

“I was surprised you even got a cat,” Scott chimes in from the waiting room chair. Having a pet who turns out to be old enough to collect social security merits calling your alpha right away. “I didn’t think you liked them. Remember my old Maine Coon, Louis? You used to pelt him in the ass with spitballs.”

Everyone’s mouths drop collectively, and Stiles reels Agnes back to his chest, hiding part of his blushing cheek in her soft orange fur. “I was seven, Scott! And in my defense, Louis used to bite my toes through my sleeping bag.”

“Well, thank goodness it was in retaliation,” Derek deadpans. “I wouldn’t want to be married to an animal abuser.”

A war plays out on Stiles’ flushed face; narrowed eyes shooting daggers at Derek, while the corner of his generous mouth cocks up. “I didn’t hear any complaints from you the other night.”

“Gross,” Cora bemoans. “Get a room.”

“Already did.” Tucking Agnes under his arm like a football, Stiles holds up his free hand and wiggles his fingers, white-gold wedding band flashing under the fluorescent lights. “Made it legal and everything.”

“Did you bring the photos?” Deaton inquires, enigmatic face as placid as the surface of the little pond in the preserve. Cora hands them over, and everyone watches Deaton slowly flip through the pages, eyes skimming over each picture. “Hum,” he says, laying the album on top of the reception desk, open to the picture of Derek’s parents with Agnes at their feet.

“Hum? That’s all you have to say?” Stiles scoffs.

“I’m surprised at you, Stiles,” Deaton says softly, crossing arms over his lab coat. “I thought you knew what Agnes was when you took her home.”

“Obviously not,” Stiles grumbles. “I’m supposed to be learning from you, aren’t I? One would assume the teacher would tell the student if the class pet was an immortal demon waiting to eat their face off when they fell asleep.”

Derek feels a hysterical giggle crawl up his throat and clamps his lips closed.

Deaton spins the album around to face the waiting room, and Scott extricates his butt from the chair to creep closer. Deaton taps the top right corner of the Hale’s photograph. “I took this picture in nineteen-eighty-eight. Derek,” he says, glancing up into his face, “your parents had just gotten the news they were pregnant with you.”

The giggle threatens to turn into a sob.

“Talia and Sebation celebrated their good fortune with a pack dinner. As you well know-” Deaton turns toward Scott- “emissaries are invited to important pack events.” He turns back to the room at large. “I came that evening, and Agnes, as you are fond of calling her, came with me.” He flips to the picture of Derek’s great-grandfather. “Emissaries protect their alpha’s, so I assume the former Hale pack emissary was somewhere in the crowd during this ceremony.” Deaton blinks, letting the pregnant pause come to full gestation. “Familiars tend to follow witches wherever they go.”

“So…” Cora trails off, tilting her head to the side and pursing her lips while she studies Agnes. “She’s a familiar? Familiars are demons, right?”

“Fantastic,” Stiles sighs, shoulders slumping. “We all know my track record with demons.” His face is carefully blank, except for the bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“No concrete evidence exists to say familiars are demons,” Deaton lectures. “In fact, that tends to be an antiquated belief held over from the witch trials. Some believe they are fae, or goblins, sent to assist fledgling witches in the practice of magic. Others believe they’re guardian angels.”

“Ha!” Stiles crows, sticking his tongue out at Cora. “She’s not a demon after all. She’s an angel. Take that!”

“Hey!” Scott helpfully adds. “You could change her name to Aziraphale!” Stiles looks like he’s considering it.

“I’m not trying to rain on the parade,” Derek cuts in, ignoring Stiles’ mumbled Sourwolf, “but you’re saying Agnes is here to help Stiles? She mostly just eats, craps, coughs up hairballs in my shoes and knocks shit off the counters. Like that time she broke the vial of ground-up Mucuna pruriens, and we all broke out in that horrible rash.” Derek’s butt itches just thinking about it.

Scott snaps his fingers, goofy smile stretching across his face. “Yeah! And then Stiles used it to make those smoke bombs we attacked the hunter’s compound with the following month. It’s like she knew exactly what he needed to use.”

Everyone stares at Agnes, baffled and impressed.

“Legends say familiars most often take small animal forms,” Deaton continues, “but some are human-like, or can shape-shift. One was a horse.”

“No,” Derek says to both his husband and Agnes, on the off chance any ideas are forming in their heads. “No horses in the house. We don’t have the room.”

“So, you’ve told us what legends say, and what other people think about familiars.” Stiles bounces on his toes, jostling Agnes. She yowls, and he plops her onto the reception desk next to her portraits. “You’ve been an emissary for years. What do you believe?”

Deaton inhales deeply through his nose, exhales through his mouth. “I believe they’re an extension of our souls.”

Stiles smiles, scritching Agnes behind her mangled ear. “You’re the Pantalaimon to my Lyra. The Salem to my Sabrina. The—” Agnes hoists one leg straight into the air and starts licking her butt.

“Yup.” Cora smirks. “That makes total sense.”

“In conclusion, Stiles, your pet is not a demon who’s waiting to eat your face off. Now, can I please go home for the evening?”

It takes half a bag of treats to coax Agnes back into the cat carrier, and Deaton locks the doors to the clinic on their way out.

“I thought she was a stray,” Stiles says as they all head out into the moonlit night, voice a little wobbly. “I didn’t realize she was... Do you want her back?”

Deaton’s smile is as mystifying as ever. “She’s yours now, Stiles.”

Derek notes that, unsurprisingly, Deaton didn’t actually answer the question.

“One more thing,” Derek says, loading Agnes into the backseat of the Camaro. He’s strangely curious, even though he’s heard what curiosity did to the proverbial cat. “If she was yours for years, you must have given her a name. What was it?” Even arcane Dr. Deaton must be human enough to name his cat. Right?

“Some things,” Deaton answers before he slams his car door, “will have to remain a mystery.”

[sdpafanblogofsupremefunk]

Season 1, Episode 1: A Different Place

Where better to begin talking about a show than the beginning? Like most shows, Sítio do Picapau Amarelo has a pilot episode.

...Okay, in this case, “pilot episode” is just a fancy way of saying “first episode”. Much like Rick & Morty and DT17, SDPA doesn’t really have a pilot episode that isn’t just the first episode (unless you count Doc and Mharti as R&M’s pilot, which I’d rather not), so to begin the series, we kinda have to jump right into the mess of things.

It’s like A Quiet Place, but not stupid.

As the episode begins, we are introduced to a two men on a horse-drawn cart. The man in the red box is a book salesman who’s a little down on his luck in terms of profits.

A little.

This guy isn’t really given a name, and I don’t want to call him “The Salesman” the whole time because that’s stupid. So I’m going to give him a name. Mr. Simmons will do nicely.

Anyways, Mr. Simmons falls out of the cart when it hits a patch in the road, and when he picks himself up, he sees a quaint little house on a farm, with an old woman knitting on the porch.

Here, we are introduced to the first of our main cast, Dona Benta, a kind elderly lady who owns this little patch of heaven known as the Yellow Woodpecker Farm. Yeah, didn’t take us long to get there, huh?

So Mr. Simmons sees this old woman in the middle of (what he believes to be) nowhere, and decides it’s the perfect opportunity to make a quick buck believing that:

Which, I dunno, man, she seems pretty comfortable just sitting in her rocking chair, knitting. Like, even as an outsider who doesn’t know a lick of what goes on in this farm, I’d say she’s content as she is, but anything to make some cold hard cash, I guess.

Also, I would not ever call this place a desert, even for the sake of exaggeration. There’s grass everywhere, bushes, trees, flowers, the works. If this where anything like a desert, I do not think this woman would be here, to put it simply. But, I digress. And I hydraulic press, but we won’t be seeing that.

So, Mrs. Benta goes inside to call for the kids, and here we meet 3 of our other actors:

Here, we see Pedrinho (or Little Pete, the boy in the blue overalls) and Narizinho (or Lúcia “Little Nose”, the girl in the red dress), cousins and Mrs. Benta’s grandchildren. They’re playing tag, I think, but they’re stopped in their tracks with their Grandma in the way, and-

Hang on, I feel like we’re forgetting something.

Oh, right. I almost forgot Emilia. She’s basically the reason I watch this show, no biggie.

Anyway, she’s in a race with the kids, when they’re blocked by Grandma. Emilia makes the smart move and cuts right under Mrs. Benta. It looks like this:

Another reason I like this show so much, it’s rife with smears, which I feel like any good cartoon should have. Like here, where Emilia friggin’ nyooms right under Mrs. Benta like a comet.

Emilia reaches the finish line at the bookshelf, where we see the Viscount of Sabugosa, a puppet made out of an ear of corn who’s very smart and polite. (His name is a pun, “sabugo” means corncob in Portuguese, and it’s a parody of the Count of Sabugosa, of which there were 9, the first being Vasco Fernandes César de Meneses in 1729- but everybody calls him Viscount and so will I because blah)

In this show, the Viscount is the actual size of an ear of corn, which makes sense, he is, after all, a puppet made out of one. I think it’s really funny that the cartoon is slightly more realistic than the live-action show it’s based on in this regard, because in the 2001 series, for whatever reason, the Viscount towers over everyone:

And he has a sick mustache.

Like, I don’t get it, out of all the characters, you made the guy made out of corn the tallest one in the cast? I get that the technology to make him actually small probably wasn’t all there yet, Grandpa in My Pocket was still 8 years off, but you really couldn’t find a guy that wasn’t the same height as Shaq?

Yeesh, only 2 minutes in and I’m getting sidetracked this often. Well, I guess it’s better than having nothing to talk about.

Anyway, Emilia wins the race, but the other two kids run into her, smooshing her against the bookshelf-

-and pwning her so hard she briefly grows fingers on her hand (and turning it into a left hand apparently, because the thumb is on the wrong side)

Mrs. Benta explains that Emilia and the other mystical beings must hide from the impending salesman.

Oh brother, I was wondering when we’d get to this guy. This is Marquis of Rabicó (Portuguese for Short-tail). Literally the first thing you read about him on the show’s Wikipedia is that he’s fat (which you think would be a given cuz he’s a pig), and his part of the Characters section isn’t much better, stating that he’s a “gluttonous, selfish, cowardly and lazy pig” and most of his episodes involve him getting himself and/or others into trouble by being a gluttonous, selfish, cowardly and lazy pig. He’s only ever onscreen to cause problems, either directly or by proxy. If I were to sum him up in one meme, it would be this:

Now, I don’t hate Rabicó, I’m actually quite indifferent towards him, but he does bring down a lot of the episodes that he’s a major part of. Thankfully, there aren’t too many episodes featuring him in the first 2 seasons, but from what I hear, Season 3 goes ham with that shit (pun intended) and it brings down the quality of the season as a whole, so it’s a good thing that’s as far off from now as it is. I want to enjoy the lack-of-pig while it lasts.

But hey, at least he doesn’t look like this:

Don’t do drugs, kids.

Rant over, Mrs. Benta explains that she wants things to look normal because the Yellow Woodpecker Farm is a very peculiar place, where all kinds of weird and wacky stuff goes on, and if word gets out about it, the place will be filled with tourists wanting to get a peek of the action.

Something that Mrs. Benta probably didn’t consider is that there’s a bigger threat to being exposed than just filthy tourism. That’s right, I’m talking about the GOVERNMENT.

I mean, think about it. How many movies have you seen where the government tries to hunt down an unnatural being? E.T., the Sonic Movie, a third one I can’t think of right now, etc. (Lilo & Stitch does not count) Now, I can’t speak for Brazil’s government compared to the U.S., but I know there’s gotta be a division dedicated to dealing with unnatural things that would no doubt arrest Emilia, Rabicó, Viscount, etc. and run experiments on them. Then again, maybe this cartoon takes place in a world where the government doesn’t even exist. I mean, we never really see any urban settings in the show (aside from a brief mention of “the city” in the finale), so for all I know, the world of Sítio do Picapau Amarelo is run by Vermin Supreme.

Real talk, you should all be ashamed of yourselves for not voting for this guy back in 2016.

Initially, Emilia won’t go into her box, but then she gives in and is dragged there by Aunt Nastácia, the housemaid of the farm with a knack for making dolls (so she’s essentially Emilia’s mom). She doesn’t really do much in this episode, but the Fat Bastard does even less, and I still mentioned him.

So Mrs. Benta lets Mr. Simmons into the house and he does this whole spiel about how great the books are, how they can take you to worlds you never imagined, fantasy and action, yadda yadda.

Meanwhile, the kids are off to the side and they’re all like “Well, we met the actual Hercules, get on our level scrub”. And of course, Emilia is watching with them, instead of in her box.

As Simmons keeps on rambling, Emilia is being a little peeping tom, not realizing that one turned head could lead to her being dissected like a high school frog.

Apparently, Emilia thinks she’s a regular Bart Simpson, with shit like spitballs and pulling out the man’s leg hairs. She’s really pushing her luck here, and for little reason. Sure, Simmons called the place boring, but that’s how it’s supposed to be to him.

Of course, Pedrinho and Narizinho are nice enough kids that they bail her out on this one and pretend it was them.

And before Simmons can ask what the hell is going on, Mrs. Benta gives him the money for the books and sends him out the door. And once he’s out...

I’ll give you a hint: it rhymes with go.

Of course, they’re not out of the woods yet, cuz Simmons is getting a little suspicious.

Busted. The truth is revealed, all laid out for Simmons to see. A talking rag-doll? Inconceivable! And yet, there it is.

Come on, Viscount. I would expect you of all people to uphold what Mrs. Benta said and stay hidden. You’re smart enough, you should already know what’s at stake, or at least that something is at stake. I mean, I understand that the cat is already out of the bag, but you’re not helping.

Also, you’re thumb is clipping into your bowtie, you should get that checked out.

Rabicó, I hope you get turned into salami. Not out of spite or anything, but just because I like salami.

Naturally, Simmons believes he’s struck gold and found the ultimate tourist trap. But when Emilia points out that if he tells anyone, he’ll sound like a crazy person-

-he straight up Villager Neutral B’s her,

hails a horse, and books it.

Wow, Viscount. Dick move mangling Mrs. Benta’s glasses like that. And all for an impromptu magnifying glass, which is pointless-

-because we can see the horse tracks perfectly fine without them.

(The Viscount isn’t this much of a jerk in the rest of the series, I swear.)

So, the gang follow the tracks until there are no more, which leads them to a corn store.

Wait, a... corn store? As in, a store that mainly, if not exclusively, sells maize and maize accessories? Compared to vegetables in general, that’s quite a niche market, I can’t possibly imagine finding a success in building an entire business around one type of vegetable. Corn is simply not as versatile as something like chocolate or cheese.

Oh no, wait, it’s just a bar. I guess this cartoon takes place in the middle of Prohibition 2: Return of Jafar, and the whole “corn store” thing is just a set up for a speakeasy. (I mean, you could also argue that it’s a diner, but I’mma go with bar because it’s funnier.)

And I’m guessing Simmons expects the place to put all of the meals on his tab, considering he’s going to get the money later with all the tourism. But then, why doesn’t he just pay with the money he got from selling Mrs. Benta those books? So he pulls Emilia out of his bag to show everyone that he has a talking doll and...

Hm. Probably should have put some air holes in that bag.

Anyway, the gang comes in, and Mrs. Benta asks for the doll back, with Narizinho hamming up her Oscar-worthy performance:

So everybody’s giving Mr. Simmons a mean glare:

Including this gentleman who looks like someone just insulted his favorite MHA character (it’s probably Tsuyu):

So Mr. Simmons desperately tries to convince everyone that the doll indeed does talk, and that she comes from a wacky place, but Aunt Nastácia intervenes and says that it’s just a normal doll.

She just straight up roasts Emilia, who (big surprise) does not take it very well. To the point that she is very visibly angry, which you think the barflies would notice.

I mean, look at that and tell me that you wouldn’t notice anything weird.

But anyways, they get the doll back and we get this cute group hug.

D’awww.

So they leave with Emilia-

as Mr. Simmons is beaten to death offscreen for stealing from a little girl.

As the gang walks home, Viscount bends Ms. Benta’s glasses back to normal. Took you long enough, ya jerk.

Not even close, my dear. This is only the beginning.

Well, that was a very good first episode. It introduces the world and many of the main characters very well. And while there were a few issues I had with it, they’re really just nitpicks that don’t detract from the episode as a whole. Overall, a good effort, 8/10.

So, yeah, that’s the first episode down. Join me next time when we watch episode 2, and meet a very vile villain.

Very vile indeed.

[v0n-butch]

william-hargroves here! 5 facts or headcannons for punch-drunk love 🥰

a/n: masterlist is in my bio if anyone wants to know what this comes from. I don’t even know how to do tiny headcanons I’m way too extra for them but I freaking LOVE you dude!!!!!! still working on the sequel for this too. anyone can send me a fic of mine they’d like more scenes from in my ask !

5 extra scenes to punch-drunk love:

1.) When The Breakfast Club first came out his senior year, Billy got dragged to the theatre by his little sister to go see it. The little redhead was beaming with excitement over her crush on Andrew Clark and the fact that it was a John Hughes masterpiece.

Her brother, however, complained the entire drive AND trailers about how pointless and typical teen movies are. They’re far from his preference. If there wasn’t a sex scene with a hot girl or gore and violence then he just wasn’t interested, plain and simple.

But as the movie progressed, the characters started to get to know eachother in their little circle, smoking pot and bonding over how much they hate themselves and their lives; he couldn’t deny he was thinking of all the good times you two shared in detention or Saturday school too. He totally pictured you being the Molly Ringwald to his Bender. Kissing and adoring you before graduating when the days spent in solitary were over. Maybe you’d even give him one of your shiny dainty earrings just like Molly did. Then afterwards he’d dramatically throw his fist in the air in triumph like Bender.

He keeps the tears that welled up away from Max so she couldn’t see by the end credits. He didn’t ever admit it but he went to see Breakfast Club at least another four times by himself.

2.) It was kinda but kinda not a secret that you were a sly troublemaker. Billy asked the day he got to talking with you why you were even in here, weirdly a lot like how inmates in prison talk about their sentences. You’d been coy when he asked, but he knew you were guilty at least of drawing dicks on the desks and sticking a thumbtack upside down on Kaminsky’s swivel chair before he sat down. He ended up taking a week off to heal his ass that had been stabbed. Billy totally gave you a high five after that one.

3.) Sometimes Kaminsky would take naps while “watching” over you both, and it was his fault for being foolish enough to make himself so vulnerable in front of two delinquents that loved creating chaos just for the sake of chaos. Billy would share contests with you on who got to fuck with him the most before he wakes up. You’d always win that trophy of course. You even got away with plugging his nose while he snored with his head back and feet propped up to the cluttered desk. Mastered the art of batting your eyes and looking all innocently pretty, getting away with much more than Billy ever could.

4.) Billy would blow spitballs at you with a laugh while you’d flip him off and try dodging his attacks. Sometimes you two would also take turns drawing each other pictures to waste time. He drew you his best Picasso-esque illustration of boobs and skulls. You’d giggle at the dirty joke before it was your turn. Playing hangman or patty cake in sheer boredom too. One time he even let you paint his nails black. Billy couldn’t lie and say it didn’t look badass, and he got better at it the more you taught him how to stay in the lines of his fingernails. He asked for your pink colored polish one time and didn’t give a fuck about any of the weird side-eyed looks he got from his dad or superficial friends. Because you said so yourself that it was hot if a guy was in touch with his feminine side and the courage it took to break the norms of being masculine, he didn’t stop.

5.) Billy always gets fucked up and does shit he regrets at every get together with Tommy’s place being their playground. Deliriously partying on a usual Friday and fiercely losing track of how many he’d had that night, he saw you sipping punch in the corner hiding from the rest of the crowd.

Billy approached you with what he thought to be smooth, irresistible seduction, which, to be frank without any drunk goggles on... was a sloppy slurring mess. His opening line was even “what’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this” before hiccuping. You’d been stunned by him even noticing you outside of detention, raising a brow while taking small careful sips from the red solo cup.

He spouted more nonsense about you, the pranks you always pulled, and Molly Ringwald. Confused yet still entertained, you noticed his eyes at one point resting a second too long to be considered a blink and his speech slowing down even more. So you took him to the couch and tucked him in with a mountain of blankets smothering every inch of him. The drunk disaster that was hardly making sense anymore had whined when you wouldn’t cuddle with him. He just pouted to himself before snatching a nearby pillow and drooling on it in a drunken sleep. You didn’t know you’d ever hear him say the things he said while that fucked in the head with booze, but you were wrong when the phone rang one particular night a few months later.

—

super carried away and lost in this, but SEND MORE OF MY FICS YOU WANT EXTRA SCENES OF ! I WEIRDLY LOVED DOING THIS

[bombshellsandbluebells]

Hey @wolfheartgirl! responding to you here because boy that post is getting LONG

Thanks for joining the conversation! Always good to have more opinions! I’ll admit I also don’t agree with your points completely and I just in general have a different view of the characters and relationships I think. Also, being 110% honest here - I didn’t finish season 6 so I might be iffy on all the details and how they play out. At some point I just really could not bring myself to keep watching, not just because of what was happening but because of how bad the execution of the writing and the acting was. Let’s face it - no matter what ships or characters we like or what side of the fandom we’re on, we ALL deserved better than what we got execution wise. And that’s disappointing. :(

Anyways, onto some body-snatched Bellamy discussion!

1. The Monty Thing - completely fair points! I did forget that they reached out to Wells’ actor first and he was unavailable, which is a shame. But that’s a good reminder that sometimes writing gets dictated on television because of things like that the writers can’t control. I do think you’re correct here, and I was wrong when I said it didn’t make sense for it to be Monty. Monty appearing to Clarke was much more about his legacy and what he had asked them to do than it was about his relationship with Clarke. On second thought, yes he was the only one who really fit there.

What I WILL still argue is, even if it works with Clarke, it still WOULD have had more weight and emotion behind it if it was Bellamy. So basically, it’s fine as is in canon, might have worked BETTER if it was Bellamy.

2. Honesty hour. I don’t know....what Octavia did in season 6. I really don’t. I tried to follow. There was some quicksand and some time travel and I was just really lost and disinterested at that point and I stopped watching and I STILL don’t know what she did in the finale.

Octavia’s redemption is......iffy. As is. I love Octavia. I don’t always love Octavia’s writing. I really don’t like anything I saw of Octavia’s writing in s6 aside from getting paired with Diyoza, though even THAT fell flat for me. And I really don’t understand what role she played in this season at all.

So maybe she would have crossed lines trying to save Bellamy, but I also do think there is a possibility to do something fun with switching the dynamic to being “my brother, my responsibility” and her trying to make up for hurting him last season. Again, don’t know WHAT she did last season, so being part of the Save Bellamy Squad would have at least pulled her into the action a little more. (I know that Octavia’s time travelling quicksand adventures are supposed to help set up the whole s7 thing but honestly.....it’s way too confusing and disconnected from the rest of the season and would probably be better cut.)

3. Inside Man Murphy. Fair! Completely far! Murphy 100% would not have helped them he is ride or die for his family ESPECIALLY after last season. And true, his anger and growing indifference did lead to him helping Josephine! (I didn’t get to 6x11 lmao, but I am kind of glad to hear it was about Abby, not Clarke. That makes A LOT more sense for his character.) And I don’t think CLARKE saying she was proud was OOC - I more meant that in my opinion it doesn’t make a lot of sense for that to hold much weight with Murphy considering he DOESN’T care about Clarke or her opinion of him.

What I will say about this is that not every detail of how the season was written is going to work with Bellamy as the bodysnatched because it wasn’t written for Bellamy. It was written for Clarke to be bodysnatched and so all the details of that storyline are going to support that. The idea behind switching it was an attempt to try to fix some of the main character and relationship arc issues last season with one simple fix, though the entire execution of the plot would then have to be adjusted to fit Bellamy and not Clarke. So yeah, Murphy’s storyline as a WHOLE would probably have to be adjusted - if not completely changed - to make sense with his character.

I was thinking about this actually and I think in general most of Murphy’s storyline needs to change. For instance, why did his near death experience THEN suddenly spark this fear when he nearly died in the finale of s5. It wasn’t necessary to have him nearly die AGAIN just to convince us that Murphy is scared of dying. He always has been. That’s a core part of his character. It’s kind of redundant.

But I was thinking that the main arc Murphy goes on in s5 is that he feels worthless and that triggers his fears of being unloved and abandoned. This is a pretty core part of Murphy too so it makes a lot of sense. I didn’t think the resolution of this arc was the best, but Murphy choosing to save his family and being instrumental in doing so and then Monty and Bellamy risking their lives and the lives of everyone in the finale do a lot to prove to Murphy that he’s not worthless or expendable.

Rather than switching to a completely new arc for him in s6, it’d be nice to keep expanding on this idea. That might mean removing him from his current canon storyline completely (which, although I did like it and it IS in character, doesn’t add much more to his character since he’s already gone though many similar arcs)

What if instead he took on more of a leadership role in saving Bellamy? That’d be something new from him we haven’t seen before. It would echo back to moments in s5 when Bellamy asked for his opinion or he was the one to make a decision for the others. It would be a really exciting new adventure to take his character on and it’d just be new for him. Maybe then he could work closely with Clarke and we’d get an interesting new dynamic there. It’d also let Murphy continue his journey of realizing that he is not worthless, which is nice.

Just spitballing here. I do agree his current arc doesn’t at all work with bodysnatched Bellamy, so it would definitely have to change.

4/5. Ok, here’s where we won’t agree, haha. I’m not a Bellarke shipper at all. I don’t disagree that s6 was very centered on Bellarke. It was, absolutely. My issue is that that is directly at odds with s5. s5 set up Becho in the beginning, forced them through struggles and separated them for most of the season, but then reunited and reenforced their relationship at the end of s5. The clear takeaway seemed to be that Becho was here to stay and strong. Bellamy and Clarke’s dynamic was certainly important, but it wasn’t framed as romantic in s5 and wasn’t, to me, framed to be more important to Bellamy than Echo.

s6 then goes and completely flip-flops that with no development to get there. Becho goes from ending the season strong to finding over nonsense and then Bellamy being completely focused on Clarke. s6 absolutely frames Bellarke as more important, but it’s frustrating that it is so at odds with the season that came before it. If they wanted to switch from Becho to Bellarke - which I’ll admit, I’ll never be happy with - it at least needs to have more development. Because the last we’ve seen, Becho is happy and Bellamy and Clarke are not on the same page and dont’ have the same priorities. If they did want to change that, there just needs to be more growth between Bellamy and Clarke that isn’ reliant on what happened between them several seasons ago. 

So frankly, I don’t think with EITHER of them bodysnatched that can happen. They don’t have the time to get to know each other again (remember, in canon, they haven’t seen each other in six years! you can absolutely re-fall in love with someone you knew, but it isn’t instant) which NEEDS to happen to sell that relationship. It isn’t good enough to me to rely on the development of early seasons when both characters have changed SO MUCH and been separated for so long.

I’m not going to argue whether the writers intend for Bellarke to be canonically romantic because honestly they have been so back and forth about it and unclear in the writing that I’m going to need some outright “I love you”s before I buy it. I do think they’re important to each other, I’m just going to need more recent development before I buy it, espeically after last season ended with Becho going strong.

6. Scrap the sheidheda storyline. Just scrap it. I really dislike it and it adds clutter to an already busy season. I don’t believe it really added anything of importance and just distracted from the other plotlines going on. You’re right it probably wouldn’t work with bodysnatched Bell but like.....I’m all for just getting rid of it. There’s more interesting ways to use Madi than whatever that nonsense was.

7. True! I actually talked to someone else about this. As it is currently written, the nightblood is a problem. However, like I said this plot and all it’s details was written to fit Clarke and it can easily be adjusted and re-written to fit Bellamy. Since bodysnatching and Sanctum was totally new this season, it doesn’t contradict anything previously established to just cut the nightblood thing out. A lot of other random details probably don’t fit for it to be Bellamy either because it just wasn’t written that way.

So yeah! Those are my thoughts :) Whew that was long.

I would also just really love to see everyone saving BELLAMY this time around since he’s always saving everyone else.

[missjosie27]

Year 1 Part 7- Nighttime Excursion

Hey, guys! It’s been a little while since I updated the story but I figured it’s long overdue for a new chapter. So for those of you still interested I hope you enjoy! 

To say that David Grant went from popular to legend after the incident with Fenrir Greyback would have been a major understatement.

As he was quickly learning, news of any kind of drama or exploits traveled fast around Hogwarts and the effects were immediate. David thought Angelica was about to kiss him when she found out he had won one hundred points in a single night, which not only put Gryffindor ahead in the House Cup standings, but gave something for everyone to brag around. Far from being the social, half mad pariah, David Grant was now on the fast track to becoming the young star of Gryffindor. Bill Weasley was one of the first to point this out, to his slight embarrassment.

“I’m telling you Dave, everyone thinks your brilliant. Even the Slytherins are impressed,” he told him two days after the feast one day at dinner.

“How do you know?”

“They may not admit it out loud, but you can tell,” he responded with a shifty grin. “In any case, the fact that you took on Fenrir Greyback and won has you on the fast track.”

“To what?” David laughed ironically. “Come off it, Bill. You’re way more popular than me. And why does it matter anyway?”

“If I am, you’re giving me a run for my money,” the eldest Weasley said. “And I’m with you, Dave, personal popularity is usually rubbish. But not this time. People are going to remember this forever.”

Indeed, the story was quickly becoming a favorite retelling among the student body, of course with some with minor alterations and exaggerations. For one, some were saying he personally killed two werewolves. Others insisted he overpowered Greyback himself. The only reason he did not object or try to correct them was for the sake Chiara. Dumbledore had told the four witnesses after the feast to refrain from mentioning her name at all, which they gladly obliged. There was no need for anyone else to know she was a werewolf, something for which Chiara was extremely grateful.

“Honestly, I’m about to tell the whole damn school it was your idea if people don’t stop coming up to me and reenact the whole thing,” he joked to her one day when they had a private moment in Herbology.

“Oh, lighten up,” she teased him. “Why not just play the hero for once?”

“Because I don’t want to. It wasn’t about playing the ‘hero’ or any of that tripe. You know the reason I was there fighting by your side.”

“I do,” she said as she quietly fertilized her plant. “And I never got the chance to say a proper thank you.”

“You don’t need to.”

“But I must,” Chiara insisted. “That’s why I knew I could trust you with my secret Dave. When I told you, you didn’t react harshly or start to act weird around me. You were shocked, as most people are when they find out. The difference is, you didn’t treat me any differently than you did before. Being what I am always comes with the risk that people will outcast me. That’s the root of why Greyback is the way he is. But I refuse to let that discourage me or turn me into a monster. And because of that, I know I have people like you I can count on.”

David smiled in appreciation.

“And what about, Penny? How’s she doing with all of this?”

“We’ve actually become a lot closer believe it or not,” she said positively. “I think facing her fear really allowed her to overcome it, or at least see that I wasn’t like Greyback.”

“That’s good. Speaking of, is he due for trial yet in the Wizengamot?”

That brought a look of disappointment from Chiara as she set the fertilizer down.

“Apparently the Werewolf Capture Unit is adequate at finding werewolves but notoriously poor at keeping them locked up. Greyback escaped as he was being taken to the Ministry.”

“I wish I could say that surprises me,” David said rolling his eyes. “Especially with the genius of Cecil Lee.”

“What’s important is that a good chunk of his followers are now in jail. Including the two you fought and took down.”

David nodded as he lightly watered his plant.

“You know in reality, I’m the one who should be thanking you. I’d have been infected or turned into dinner if you hadn’t protected all of us.”

“That’s what werewolf friends are for, Dave,” she said happily, her kindly features beaming at him. “Greyback claims I’ll learn someday what it truly means to have lycanthropy. But in reality, I’ve already figured it out for myself. I don’t deny what I am, but it doesn’t have mean becoming lonely, cut off, and bitter at the world. Maybe someday, I can help others in my situation and we won’t need to hide anymore.”

The girl’s optimism was so inspiring, the first year Gryffindor had to stop himself from shedding tears right there in the middle of class. He had never met anyone as upbeat and caring as Chiara, and for the first time in quite a while, he felt touched.

“I’m sure you will,” he said with a wide smile.

From then on, he knew he had developed an understanding with the werewolf girl that went beyond a simple friendship. Batting the most terrifying werewolf in Britain would do that to a person.

Yes, it was all well and good to have made new friends and become as sensational a first year in many a year. But something still prodded David constantly in the back of his mind- the conversations he had overheard injected a sense of curiosity not easily quelled. It was clear now that the cursed vaults were real and Jacob’s obsession a reality. He was connected to this whether he wanted to be or not. The real question was what he was prepared to do about it? And Rowan kept reminding of that every time the subject came up.

“Dumbledore, Snape, the professors, they’re all in on this,” he said to him one day at lunch. “They’ve been hiding whatever is going on.”

“Well whatever the cursed vaults contain, it doesn’t seem to be affecting anything,” David shrugged.

“David, I know you better than that,” Rowan said to him, as the other boy continually munched on his sandwich. “I may want to be the youngest professor at Hogwarts, but that pales in comparison to whatever phenomenon this is. You want to find out what’s in these vaults too.”

“It’s not so much that as it is finding out what happened to my brother.”

This was true. Whatever supposed treasure lay within the vaults themselves, it held little interest to David. That was the driving force.

“Fair enough,” Rowan said, draining his pumpkin juice.

“Snape and Filch mentioned it was the 13th floor corridor,” David thought to himself. “Why not investigate it one night after everyone’s gone to bed?”

“It could prove useful in a number of ways,” Rowan agreed. “Perhaps there’s something there others have missed.”

“Why wait? Let’s check it out tonight.”

“Are you sure? You don’t want detention so soon after that duel with Merula.”

“That was a month ago,” David dismissed. “Besides, if I can survive a duel and an encounter with werewolves with just detention, I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be expelled if we’re caught in a corridor after curfew.”

“Speak for yourself, I don’t want detention or ruin my perfect attendance record.”

“Rowan, you’ve only gone to Hogwarts two months.”

“Exactly! So if I ruin it now, I’ll never be able to break the record it later on.”

David tossed part of his sandwich at him playfully.

“Anyone ever told you you’re a huge nerd?”

“All the time,” Rowan grinned. “But you’re my friend, Dave, so if you’re going to investigate these vaults, I’m coming with you.”

It really did pay to have a friend like Rowan sometimes. He was as loyal as a Hufflepuff at times.

“Alright, then. Tonight, it is.”

They clinked their goblets in a show of agreement and comradery.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They didn’t have to wait long to sneak out. Ben and Charlie were asleep, the latter of whom was snoring rather loudly. Jae was conspicuously absence, which only left the other two Gryffindor boys.

“What time is it?” David whispered to his friend from his four poster bed.

“Eleven,” Rowan responded glancing at his watch.

“Excellent. Prefects should be done with their patrols. Teachers should be in their offices. We’re ready to roll.”

Both boys slowly slid off their bunks, grabbed their wands and headed down the steps towards the common room. After double checking that Angelica had indeed gone to bed, they slipped past the Fat Lady portrait and made their way towards the desired corridor.

As luck would have it, they encountered no obstacles along the way. A few idle ghosts, floated above and they heard a racket from inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom that could only have been Peeves the Poltergeist (a notorious little entity well known for making student and Filch miserable alike). A few portraits were awoken or grumbled about “rule breaking first years” but the boys paid them no mind. After only a five minute stroll, they arrived at their destination.

“This is it, the 13th corridor,” David whispered.

“Now that we’re here, I’m not so sure about this,” Rowan whispered back. “Didn’t Snape also order Filch to keep the students away from here. What if he catches us?”

“Then we won’t stay long.”

“I’m just saying, I’ve heard stories about how he likes to punish people. The only reason it isn’t worse is because Dumbledore won’t let use shackles.”

“You worry too much,” David elbowed him gently. “Come on, we’ll search the corridor and be out faster than Peeves shoots a spitball.”

Rowan still looked apprehensive but gave in.

“Alright, I trust you Dave. Besides, I’m way too curious about this corridor to back out now.”

And so, they began their investigation. On the surface it didn’t seem like there was anything abnormal or out of sorts about the corridor. It was like any other in the castle- made of stone and brick, a few portraits here and there, torches giving off the little bit of light necessary to see. There wasn’t much to see or search except for a few benches and a couple of random doors.

But after a few minutes of what seemed like a pointless excursion, David began to notice something. A feeling of creeping, bitter cold that made the hairs on his arms stand up. It waxed and waned depending on where he was standing and after pacing around a few times began to pinpoint it.

“Rowan, do you feel that?”

“You mean that isn’t a draft that keeps blasting in here?”

“I think it’s coming from this door. Check this out.”

They approached a normal, brown, oak door, but as they did so the cold began to become much stronger, causing Rowan to shiver.

“Brrr! That’s intense. My family is from India, Dave we aren’t made for this kind of temperature.”

Wrapping his arms around himself, he narrowed his eyes and adjusted his glasses.

“Check this out, Dave. This brick is different from some of the other ones.”

Indeed, it was. As opposed to being the standard grayish coloration, this one was a light gold and had an inscription on it made up of strange, undecipherable symbols.

“Any idea what this means, Rowan?” David asked, relying on his friends’ bookishness, but he shook his head.

“I’ve seen many ancient languages before in textbooks, but this is definitely not one that’s familiar.”

“Can you decipher it?”

“Maybe but-”

They had no time to discuss it further, as out of nowhere appeared a mangy looking cat with tufty fur and red eyes. It seemed to gaze into their very souls, as though it knew they were severely violating curfew.

“Meow!”

“Oh hell, we have to get out of here!” Rowan. “That’s Filch’s cat.”

“Mrs. Norris,” David breathed.

No one knew why the caretaker had named his cat such a bizarre name but any student at Hogwarts knew that wherever she was, Filch wasn’t far behind. Any rule breaking in front of her was practically asking for detention. Their investigation would have to be put on hold for now.

“Run!” he urged his best friend.

Without wasting another second, both boys sprinted out of the corridor to the staircases and didn’t stop until they had reached the safety of Gryffindor tower.

“Vacuous Porcupine!” David huffed out to the Fat Lady as he and Rowan caught their breath.

She gave them a disapproving stare but nevertheless swung open to allow them inside. It was only after they had settled into their dormitory that they allowed themselves to sigh with relief.

“Oh, you guys are back,” came a lazy tone.

David and Rowan nearly jumped ten in the feet in the air.

“Relax, it’s just me,” Jae assured them, raising an eyebrow. He was sitting on his bed, sorting through a burlap sack of items, some of which looked unfamiliar.

“Where were you guys?”

“Just on a nighttime stroll,” David replied, trying to pass their late activity as casually as he could. “What about you? What have got there?”

“Contraband, ready for prospective customers. Looks like we both avoided detention tonight,” he said slyly.

David didn’t feel like expounding further on the adventure that had just occurred. Jae was friendly enough, but he was also a bit shifty, so to speak. Extremely low profile, he had already run afoul of Filch himself for sneaking in banned items.

He gave Rowan a knowing glance, who responded with, “I suppose it goes without saying it’s time for some serious research?”

It was more than that, and though David was eventually able to get to sleep that night (despite Charlie’s continuous snoring) he knew that the time to be passive was over.

It was time to find this cursed vault.

[ichoreyed]

oct 3.

the light is blinding and he can barely keep your adrenaline from thudding in his chest; hands heralding god, he presses down into the circumference of a carefully organized circle. the light is blinding. so blinding that he has to fight to cover his eyes, gritting his teeth.

and when his eyes open, he knows she’ll be there. mom. “okay, this is it, al!”

he tastes the anticipation on his tongue. “right,” al says next to him, and his own eyes are wide with excitement.

twelve seconds before impact.

years before icarus crashed down to earth, he is happy. his name is edward. he is an eager-eyed boy who wears selfishness as easily as he does his superhero cape. he loves to learn, mother says, and she teases Father-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named “he’s a lot like you!” which earns 'dad’ something of a sad smile. ed doesn’t remember this. he had been too eager to live up to the name of a father who will leave him anyways.

his younger brother is alphonse. who has lived in ed’s shadow. he is smart and curious but has a bleeding heart and ed likes to make fun of him for it. when al accidentally killed the cricket and he cried and cried and cried ed just said “it’s a bug, al! come on!” until al started hiccupping.

al insisted on a funeral for the thing. at that point ed felt bad and so he obliged, dust-stained hands saying good night to the wingless corpse. they’d used a shoebox from their father’s things, emptying all of its contents onto the floor. he was gone all the time, so why did it matter?

mom was not so pleased. “you can’t just use your dad’s things like that!” she chided, hands still lovingly mussing up two blonde heads of hair. then she guided them out of the eternally abandoned study, making sure to close the door behind them. there she wiped her hands against her apron.

“so what?” ed had retorted, sticking out his tongue, “he’s never around!” now he recalls how thin the lines of her lips had pressed together. he regrets not being kinder to her then.

“i miss him,” came the plea from little alphonse.

she just frowned. scooped them both up. in that moment ed felt something in his mom break ----later he would learn he was wrong. nothing broke. her desire to save all of them had simply sharpened. she wanted to provide so that they didn’t hate the man who was always absent.

a fact that would lead to trisha elric’s death.

she had been so excited to pick the tomatoes she’d been growing out front. finally they were getting ripe enough, and it was something of a yearly tradition to cut them open, stuff them with meat, and bake them. ed and al had gone out for the day, to play with winry. they’d come home late, as the sun began to dip behind the horizon. the sunset that day was particularly beautiful.

but that didn’t change the fact that mom was slumped on the ground, tomatoes red harbingers around her.

ed remembers: her hands were limp and cold as he clung to the right one. al sobbed and sobbed and wouldn’t stop and ed slept with his arms tightly locked around his little brother. i will protect you, he promised him amidst his own violent shaking, the back of al’s shirt staining dark with ed’s tears.

the next day ed cried no more. the tears turned to anger. icarus began to craft his wax wings. “hey al…” his tone was reserved, quiet. “we have to get stronger.” and the cogs in his mind began to churn out a sickening horrible idea, the suggestion coalescing on his tongue before he could even think it over.

“isn’t that a taboo?” al asked, eyes wide with shock. “they say that you can’t do that!”

“i don’t care.” ed snapped. “i’m not scared of a taboo. i want mom back. don’t you?”

al had bit his lip so neatly it had almost drawn blood. “shouldn’t we go find dad…?”

“DON’T CALL HIM THAT. he’s the reason mom died! if only he had been here...” the vitriol is perfectly expressed in how ed’s shoulders snap to attention, accusatory finger jabbing towards the ground. pathetic excuse for a father. that’s what he was.

al fell quiet.

the eldest was always right, after all.

after impact.

“it’s the law of equivalent exchange. right, young alchemist?” ringing in his ears, finger scrabble frantically against the bloodied pulp where the rest of ed’s leg had once been. he’s bleeding, fast, the red liquid rushing out of his knee and onto the ground. it soaks into his shorts---why is blood this warm? i’m cold. i’m cold. i’m so cold--

“THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING.”

“somebody help, help,” ed pleads, crumpled form shaking furiously on the ground. his eyes snap upward when he hears a slow hiss of air. MOM. “mom, mom, please--------------,”

it’s not mom. it’s...something. groteseque and horrible and the steamy breath it expunges into the air is disgusting and it smells of death, not of the wildflowers mom loved. its hair is stringy and mottled, wet with an almost oily substance, not brushed and tied back like how mom loved to wear it. and its eyes-------------------its eyes aren’t even human, the way they absorb the shadows on the wall, the inhumane glint to them --- THAT’S NOT MOM.

no. no this is wrong, ed thinks, staring slack-jawed at this horrible monstrosity. why are its limbs bent backward like that? this wasn’t what we wanted!

suddenly: AL’S GONE. he had been ripped apart by the truth or whatever it was, small greedy little hands rendering him to nothingness. “al--------------” it’s the next flash through ed’s mind. “alphonse.” al is gone and i did this to him. then: no. no. you can’t have him. “alphonse-- alphonse, alphonse------ this is all my fault!!!”

he’s acting before he can think, bloodied trail marking ed’s path as he digs his fingernails into the cobblestone and forces himself over to a suit of armor. “NO, damnit, no, you won’t take him too,” weakly, ed tries to topple it by pulling at its shin. the foreboding thing creaks in protest. “GIVE HIM BACK,” ed spits out, shoving his shoulder into its leg. finally the armor gives, crashing down around ed in an unceremonious mess.

the helmet comes undone, empty carcass exposing itself to ed’s intentions. weakly he draws a blood-stained finger into the steel lining, “give him back,” he repeats, fury somehow pushing through all of the pain reverberating up and down his leg it hurts so bad it hurts SO bad but i can’t lose him too , i promised him we’d be ok, “he’s my brother.”

“take my arm, take my leg, take my heart, anything you can have it!” ed spitballs out to Truth, hoping it can hear him from where he’s lying on the ground, his finger pressing the final sigil against dulled suit of armor. the tears are blurring his vision, or maybe it’s the blood loss, but ed screams out to the unforgiving air:

“JUST GIVE HIM BACK, HE’S MY LITTLE BROTHER, HE’S ALL I HAVE LEFT----------!!!”

ed’s arms move. they reach back, a joining of energy burning through his hands. and when he slaps his palms together with only the thoughts of saving the boy he was always meant to protect running through his mind, lightning shatters the floor of the elric household. ed feels delirium overpower him. seeping agony running up and down his arm. the world fades to black and a horrible dreamless sleep.

never forget, he will etch into his state alchemist’s pocket watch when they call him fullmetal. never forget 3 oct . and he will carry that lesson with him.

fullmetal arm.  fullmetal leg.  fullmetal heart.