#theo’s complementary >>>

[lov3notts]

theo’s 9-5 is humbling cedric anyway he can😭

Bfs enemy Theo is looking for EVERY opportunity to make fun of Cedric for his slip ups 😩 agitating him on purpose

Bf's Enemy!Theo; ;more

Poor Cedric, it takes him one tiny mistake—barely even a mistake. A dropped quill. A missed step. A stutter in his spell. And there was Theo watching him like an owl.

& It happens all the time. In the corridors, during class, even at Hogsmeade.

Cedric shows you a flower he picked? Theo says it’s “sweet… in a second-year sort of way.”

Cedric forgets one tiny detail about something you said last week? Theo’s there before you even blink. “Don’t worry, she’ll repeat it—she’s patient with the slow learners.”

Cedric slightly trips on the way to the dueling circle during their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson? There he is pointing it out. “Oh no, better be careful Diggory. Hate for you to fall before the match starts”

You rolled your eyes. “He just stumbled.”

Theo smiled. “I know. It was adorable.”

And sometimes, you hate how much you hear it. How much the things he says stick.

Because Cedric is wonderful. Kind. Charming. But Theo? Theo sees every flaw. And he wants you to see them, too.

[carelessmirel]

Cover art for "Complementary"!

Complementary...

My first ever NottPott fic, actually. I still love that fic, absolutely adore. So I made cover art! Yes, after like... a month? Don't know, don't care!

[kwillow]

The fucked up dynamic between Hyden and Ambroys is kind of sexy ngl. You've said you're not a shipping person so not trying to push an agenda here or anything, just gotta say thanks on behalf of the freak likers. I also feel this way about a certain rat and Hyden. You guys are so good at characters and making these awful and compelling dynamics.

Hahaha well obviously I think their dynamic is great fun to play with too. Whether it be their full-on enemyship in Amaranthine or them bonding over being rich cads in other settings, they're tons of fun in their complementary awfulness.

Same with Hyden and Theo. I think their dynamic, built on childish fantasies, misplaced loyalty and manipulation, is also delightfully fucked up and headed for disaster, which is the best course for any fictional relationship.

I find it a little funny that I seem to have garnered a bit of a rep as a shipping-hater. It's not so much that I see no appeal, but to me it is an occasional insubstantial treat, one that I dip into every so often but find unfulfilling as my main artistic output. When I see or hear others talk about how much they love shipping and don't read anything but romance, it sounds like someone saying they eat cookies and candy corn for every meal. I don't know how a person would be satisfied with that. :P

[attempted--eloquence]

Hi hi!! I'm the person whos been leaving heinously long comments on ao3 lately- heh

I honestly just wanted to hear what first drew you to theo and liam as a ship. I always felt like they had such a push-pull dynamic in the show (almost noxious chemistry) but i feel like my view of them has evovled so much since while reading Handle With Care. Also, thiam aside, what drew you to Theo as a character on his own? My friend and I have always (lovingly lol) fought over him because she hates his guts and ive always felt this strange pull to him. Like is he a bad human being? Yes. Is he so much more than that though? Also yes. You're takes on him are always fascinating to me.

Sorry for such a big question! I'm always so wordy 🤭

Omg HI!!!!!!! 💗 Also there is no such thing as heinously long comments I would rejoice over a dissertation in my inbox I stg!!!

Okay, regarding Liam and Theo: you show me two characters who communicate like they hate each other but all their actions scream the opposite, I will be LOOKING👀 Make those two characters also have incredibly complex emotional backgrounds and an ugly history together and I am done for. I’m gonna get really ramble-y here so more under the cut!!

You’re so right, there is such a push-pull between them not only literally in their interactions but also in their personality traits!! Something complementary about them that I think borders on clashing. A sort of heart vs brain thing. Open book vs brick wall.

Theo seems to treat emotion as a tool at best and a weakness at worst (boy always had the waterworks ON TAP in s5 whenever he needed to manipulate someone lmao), so for him to be sooo mindful of Liam’s emotional state in s6—even if he’s provoking him, it’s for a reason—and also weirdly encouraging toward him is such a pleasant change of pace. Obsessed with the way their relationship started under the guise of responsibility and was held together by the threat of Theo being sent back, became a sort of begrudged alliance, became trust??? Kinship??? I’m like foaming at the mouth.

Theo is like at the center of Liam’s guilt over stuff that happened in s5: missing Hayden’s death + trying to kill Scott. I think there’s something to be said about Liam bringing Theo back not only giving Theo a chance to “redeem” himself (heavy on the air-quotes, I have convoluted thoughts about Theo and the idea of redemption, but I digress) but also that it could’ve facilitated Liam forgiving himself for s5. (Cough cough, “Scott will never forgive you,” Liam says to Theo in the middle of a scene that revolves around Liam’s anger and his inability to stop himself from hurting people when he’s having an outburst. In the locker room, as they’re STANDING IN FRONT OF A MIRROR. The idea that Liam is projecting his own guilt and concerns about Scott’s forgiveness onto Theo here is positively yummy.)

From “you’re going to help us or you’re going back [in the ground]” to Theo voluntarily showing up to save Liam’s ass and Liam saying “I will fight with you�� just…nghhh I dunno to me it feels like now being able to look at the past and accept it, even if it’s ugly. Not being wounded by it anymore. For both of them.

Okay, so regarding what drew me to Theo…..he is just so…[dreamy sigh] fucked up. What can I say, he lured me in with his sociopathic swagger in s5 and won me over with his kicked dog demeanor in s6💘 also I think he’s a fucking freak (affectionate). I wish I could better articulate what made me obsessed with him but I’m past the point of no return with my fixation on him that I can’t remember my brain being normal anymore. There is simple B.T. and A.T. (Before Theo and After Theo).

Like…he shows up in s5 with this story about Scott helping him through an asthma attack tucked beneath his tongue and all these speeches at the ready for why he showed up to join Scott’s pack and I can’t help but wonder how long he planned for that. How long he practiced those lines and his delivery and the inflection and the facial expressions. He spent part of his childhood being raised by such inhuman unfeeling robotic beings and yet he can tap into this emotional expressiveness like no other; he smiles, he plays coy, he feigns concern, he gives hugs, he constantly offers help, he cries, and it’s all an act. But I feel like the most honest thing about him in s5 is whenever he has to interact with the Dread Doctors—it’s like he can’t stop being a scared kid. He’s all false bravado, a paper tiger.

And beyond trying to take Scott’s power to become an alpha (and sever the tie between him and the DDs by being a real werewolf), I feel like Theo was also kind of trying to assert his flawed existence in front of a creator that can’t see him as anything but a failed experiment. A sort of, I am like this because you made me like this. To think that The Surgeon came into the whole chimera/beast project kind of out of…love? (A desire to bring back your closest friend that drives you to the point of abandoning all humanity for a centuries-long scientific pursuit is a beautifully insane form of love to me lmfao). And there’s some kind of devotion between a scientist and its experiment, something like love in the act of surgery, and yet they regard Theo with such indifference because he’s not successful in the right way. The failure was the Dread Doctors’ but Theo wore it like his own. Dude’s fucked.

((Not to mention The Beast gets resurrected and fucking kills them. There it is!!! Theres the success! There’s the love! What they wanted was this creature that would kill them instead of acquiesce. They wanted a monster but they raised a kid.))

I also think part of what’s appealing about Theo from a writing perspective is that his backstory is vague enough that there’s room to creatively fill in some blanks, but also the parts of his life that we do know about—and the parts we can infer from everyone else’s interactions with the DDs—are pretty bleak. He’s also really easy to project onto for that reason. Fear of imperfection and/or failure? Check! Inferiority complex? Check! Childhood upended by trauma? Check! Alienated from your own body? Check! Feeling inherently different than everyone around you? Check! Isolated and unable to authentically connect with other people? Check and check.

This is totally a headcanon bc obviously we don’t know if the Dread Doctors kept Theo in BH the whole time, but lately I’ve been fixated on the idea of him potentially growing up in the tunnels — and, like, those run underground all over Beacon Hills, right? The idea of him having this life that runs parallel to Scott and Stiles, but beneath their feet the whole time, makes me crazy. Stiles said that he used to skateboard in the tunnels and I’m bashing my head against a wall at the thought of Theo watching him from afar. Of Theo watching from afar every time the pack members go in the tunnels over the course of the show pre-s5. Of him living adjacent to the pack but not a part of it. Dude wants to be part of something soooo bad he wants to be accepted as he is soooo bad (gonna lose it over him being in the tunnels with Mason and saying “maybe I want to be in the pack”).

Okay I’m so sorry I don’t even think I scratched the surface of my thoughts on Theo here yet I’m rambling past the point of meaning right now😭 so, in summary…I just think he’s neat.

[galleryofart]

Roses

Artist: Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853-1890)

Date: 1890

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC, United States

Description

Roses was painted shortly before Van Gogh's release from the asylum at Saint–Rémy. He felt he was coming to terms with his illness - and himself. In this healing process, painting was all - important. During those final three weeks of his recovery, he wrote his brother Theo, he had "worked as in a frenzy. Great bunches of flowers, violet irises, big bouquets of roses…"

This is one of two rose paintings Van Gogh made at that time. It is among his largest and most beautiful still lifes, with an exuberant bouquet in the glory of full bloom. Although he sometimes assigned certain meanings to flowers, Van Gogh did not make a specific association for roses. It is clear, though, that he saw all blossoming plants as celebrations of birth and renewal - as full of life. That sense is underscored here by the fresh spring green of the background. The undulating ribbons of paint, applied in diagonal strokes, animate the canvas and play off the furled forms of flowers and leaves.

Originally, the roses were pink - the color has faded - and would have created a contrast of complementary colors with the green. Such combinations of complements fascinated Van Gogh. The paint is very thick - so thick that both rose paintings were left behind when Van Gogh left Saint–Rémy on May 16, 1890. As he explained to Theo, "these canvases will take a whole month to dry, but the attendant here will undertake to send them off after my departure." They arrived in Auvers by June 24.

[graphx]

Sorryyyyyy I’ve been listening to the TPN S2 OST

I’m not even that much of a sound design enthusiast in general but I’m reading the goldy pond arc and I’m in absolute MOURNING just thinking about what we could have had (DO YOU KNOW HOW BADLY I WANTED TO SEE AN 11 YEAR OLD PUNCH HER FUTURE FATHER FIGURE IN THE BALLS???!?!????!)

Muijika’s theme fits her so perfectly I’m thinking about the other characters having their own

Would Yuugo’s be discordant at the beginning? Would that part play during his mental breakdown and fade out when he passes out? Would it get more orchestral and similar to Emma’s as it goes on? Would it be victorious and notable before you ever see the camera pan up to a smoking rooftop after he breaks leuvis’ds mask? Would it synchronize with Ray because he’s on the rooftop with him??

 Would his theme reference tea parties? Would it get more hopeful by the time it gets back to the bunker?? Symbolising that he accepts his new family??? WOULD IT BE IN TUNE WITH NAT’S COOL KING BALLAD?? WOULD IT PLAY WHEN EMMA WAKES UP FROM HER COMA??

Would it be complementary Lucas’s??Would they harmonize when they finally see each other again???

Would Oliver’s theme be similar to Emma’s to symbolize being leaders of their respective groups? Would it mirror Ray’s when he asks to be left behind???

Would the techno themes be more present whenever minerva is mentioned to foreshadow their technology being more advanced than anything they have had before (like in the testing rooms?)

WOULD THE MUSIC THAT PLAYS WHEN GOLDY POND IS PREPARING MIRROR THE TRAINING MUSIC THAT PLAYED FOR THE GRACE FIELD KIDS???

When Emma throws the axe at Luce would you be able to hear it slice through the air? The billow of Leuvis’s ridiculously dramatic cape? Could you hear the children breathing heavily as they run away? Would you only be able to hear jake, monica and theo’s running because violet and emma are used to hiding their footsteps????

Would Emma and Ray’s footsteps in the forest get softer and softer the more they learn and watch from yuugo?? WOULD THEIR FEET NOT CLICK ON THE CONCRETE??

Would Nous talk in an overlap with Nouma’s voice after he eats her? Would Nous’s scream of outrage be good enough voice acting to rival emma’s iconic scream from the first episode?? Would it sound so viscerally human for a moment you feel bad for them??

Would you hear rustles in the trees despite nous and noma aren’t moving to foreshadow paula and violet getting into sniping position??

Would the snap of the wires they set up for traps sound different when they spring them depending on how dangerous they are?

WOULD THE MUSIC THAT PLAYS WHEN THE MONSTERS ARE COMING BE LIKE SIRENS OR A DISTORTED/EERIE CHEERFUL VIBE??

Would the guns nigel specifically engineered have a different sound compared to regular bullets? Would Emma’s flash bullet have a shrill sound that freezes everything as the bullet hits leuvis in slow motion?

DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE ROTATING CAMERA ANGLES I WANTED TO SEE!!! UTILIZING THE POV SHOTS FROM THE FIRST SEASON ONLY THIS TIME ITS THE DEMONS BEING WATCHED!!?!??!

Would the scene when Emma gets stabbed and goes into an underwater dream state have more muffled music (maybe a mix of her own theme, Norman’s and Isabella’s lullaby) that gets louder and clearer the more she regains conciousness?

These are all incredibly specific and unrealistic expectations but I think I deserve to be a little delusional when it comes to this show

I’d love to hear any sounds you also would have loved to hear in tpn Season 2 (done right)!!!!

[blueiscoool]

Van Gogh’s Little-Known Fixation With The Roulin Family

Van Gogh Museum senior curator Nienke Bakker lets us in on some little-known history.

This is such a happy, colorful painting—a vividly painted, fresh, expressive portrait of a young boy, Camille Roulin. I’m currently preparing an exhibition about Van Gogh’s portraits of the Roulin family in Arles, and so I’ve been spending a lot of time studying this work.

Van Gogh painted it in the first half of December 1888: a fascinating time, when Gauguin was staying with him in Arles, just before the difficult last phase of his life that started at the end of December.

Monsieur Roulin worked at the post office at the railway station; Van Gogh probably met him at one of the cafes where he was always hanging out, but he would also have gotten to know him at the station when he was sending paintings to his brother Theo in Paris, or collecting painting materials sent by Theo. They quickly became friends (and drinking buddies).

here are 20 portraits of the family—including the postman, Madame Roulin, and their three children—and Van Gogh would paint two or even three versions of each, so he could give one to the sitter. After Van Gogh’s mental breakdown, Roulin went to see him in the hospital, and kept Theo and Van Gogh’s sister Willemien in the Netherlands informed of how Vincent was doing. It’s a beautiful story of friendship.

The painting of Camille is especially interesting because of the strong, complementary colours: the green coat and its bright, red button; the blue cap against the yellow background. In painting the face, Van Gogh has used so many colors—greens, oranges, yellows—to render the flesh tones, and the light that’s falling. The large, simple shapes that make up the composition are reminiscent of Japanese prints – but he’s added his own distinctive brushwork, with parallel lines creating rhythm, lending expressiveness.

Van Gogh’s ambition was to make a contribution to modern portraiture, by expressing the character of the sitter through the play of strong colors. But I also like to wonder what Camille would have made of this portrait. You can imagine an 11-year-old boy sighing, “Oh, why do I have a yellow face?”

—Van Gogh Museum senior curator Nienke Bakker, as told to Samuel Reilly.

[wonder-worker]

"Scholars have re-evaluated the patronage role of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine. Examining surviving works from the Plantagenet court, specific evidence of their commissioning is limited. Especially in the case of literary production in Anglo-Norman, Karen Broadhurst has shown that, of the various texts generally held up as part of the cultural production patronised by Henry II, only two were unequivocally commissioned by him: Wace’s Roman de Rou (1160–1170) and Benoît de Saint Maure’s Chronique des Ducs de Normandie (1170–1180), while the other texts can instead be seen as indicating authors’ presumptions about the king’s interests. As far as Eleanor is concerned, there is no evidence directly linking her to systematic advocacy of literature in French, and her influence on the writing of courtly romances cannot be demonstrated. Further developing Karen Broadhurst’s studies on French literature, John Gillingham has reviewed historians’ enthusiastic view of Henry II’s interest in history. Of the various historical works in Latin, the only text that seems to have been directly commissioned by Henry II turns out to be De Majoratu et Senescalcia Franciae, composed in 1158 by Hugh de Claye. Moreover, during the reign of Henry II, many authors—including Richard fitzNigel, Peter of Blois, John of Marmoutier, Gerald of Wales, and Robert of Torigni—proposed historical works to the court but received little atten tion from the king. Gillingham’s analysis recognises that the production of historical works was the expression of the court’s tastes rather than indicating the influence of royal patronage.

A survey of direct patronage by Henry II confirms the king’s inclination for realpolitik as also applied in the field of literary production. The historiographical works commissioned by Henry II were written in the f irst period of his reign, while he was consolidating the bases of his authority over the vast space he was to rule. The works of Wace and Benoit recount the story of the Anglo-Norman kingdom, justifying why an Angevin such as Henry II would have been crowned king. The choice of Anglo-Norman as the language in which to compose these texts was well suited to pursuing this aim in that it enabled the texts to reach an audience of Anglo-Norman nobility directly rather than remaining solely within ecclesiastical circles. The history written by Hugh de Claye recounts how the king of France Louis VI supposedly gave the Counts of Anjou the title of Seneschal of France, reinforcing the Angevin position in Maine and Normandy before Henry II’s expedition to Brittany.

As noted by Ian Short, although the English king and queen cannot be demonstrated to have directly influenced production as patrons through texts dedicated to them, they can still be seen to have exerted influence if we consider the movement of literati who became involved with their courts. To evaluate the motivations of this flock of authors, we must keep in mind that the texts scholars have held up to argue that Henry II’s court was complementary to the king often date from 1170 onwards as well, and as such they are subsequent to the consolidation of his reign and the beginning of conflict with his sons. For royal courtiers, proclaiming the authority of the king of England was another way to assert their own roles. Each author’s principal concern was his own position just as the king’s main concern was his royal authority, and this explains why their works, although not commissioned by the king, did find a favourable reception. Martin Aurell has provided a comprehensive overview of the cultural production of Henry II’s court as a literary transposition of the policies pursued by the English king, showing that the courtiers who theo rised about royal power in England were the same men who participated in the administrative machine of the kingdom and created the specific Angevin courtly culture and its legitimising narratives. The construction of the political ethic of kingdom administration and the construction of the related ideology was thus carried out by the same men and in the same period, starting from 1170 when Henry II’s rule was first contested and then reinforced by his victories."

— Fabrizio De Falco, Authors, Factions, and Courts in Angevin England: A Literature of Personal Ambition (12th–13th Century)

[soft-stxrlight]

the calling of wolves and vipers, chapter 3

wizengamot meetings and tense admissions

ao3 link: the calling of wolves and vipers

tumblr masterlist: the calling of wolves and vipers

pairing: Draco Malfoy x Theodore Nott x Hermione Granger

description: draco, theo, and hermione navigate growing affections as they fight for werewolf rights. there are forces, however, which will stop at nothing to ensure their efforts are for naught.

word count: 5013

The Wizengamot was not something one would call efficient, more like bewilderingly circuitous. Every minute motion had to be discussed, dissected and then deliberated upon. Despite the straightforwardness of the bill being proposed for aurors to receive paid time off for traumatic missions, the members were bullheaded in their need to advocate for whatever devils filled their pockets. 

Hermione could feel the frustration itching beneath her tight-clad knee, where it bounced with such rapidity that Theo finally reached over and steadied it, giving her a long look and a gentle nod. 

Maybe it wasn’t so much that the Wizengamot was incapable of conducting business–though that was certainly a factor–she knew her nerves were getting the better of her. Theo and Hermione had an iron-clad proposal and many contingencies for any potential roadblocks the Wizengamot constructed. However, she couldn’t shake the feeling that regardless of their extensive research, the concept of werewolf equality was going to be too contentious to pass. 

They couldn’t fail. They simply couldn’t. The Shift-House Act would provide safe harbor for werewolves across Wizarding Europe at least. They’d hammered out the fewest requests they could make with the greatest yield. All they wanted was for the Ministry to approve the construction and maintenance of secure apartment-type buildings for people with the werewolf gene to undergo the shift somewhere safe. 

The Wizengamot seemed to have reached a decision on the request from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on paid leave after traumatic missions. Hermione silently chastised herself for not listening more carefully on the outcome of that one, as Harry had been an advocate for it. 

He’d tell her later, anyway, she mused.

“Can the representatives of the Shift-House Act please come forward from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, a Miss Hermione Granger,” there were some stifled groans from the back of the auditorium. Hermione smiled to herself, if being a thorn in the side of the Wizengamot was a badge of honor, she wore it proudly.

“And a Mister Theodore Nott.” The moderator of the session was a stately woman Hermione had met with before, Erin Whittock. She was a high ranking member of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and she seemed to have a complementary moral compass with Hermione. She received a modest incline of the head from Erin, which she returned. 

Hermione and Theo stood with painstakingly rehearsed poise and professionalism and approached the podium with their notes. She smoothed her blazer, oblivious to the way his eyes trailed along the path of her fingers. As they came to the small set of steps that led up Hermione realized she was in heels and there wasn’t a railing, before she had even lifted her foot she felt his hand gently slip into hers and raise it up to stabilize her. She tilted her head up at him, steeling herself with a deep look square in his supportive eyes and inclined her head in thanks. 

The warmth that burst through her hand hummed up her arm as though it were his hand itself that tipped her chin high and relaxed her shoulder muscles. Hermione nearly groaned when he released her, but the intense blaze of his eyes as her own skittered around the room replaced his physical touch. With his gaze warming the back of her neck, Hermione began.

Theo’s chest swelled with pride at the way his witch stared down the Wizengamot and drew her shoulders back confidently. 

He hurried to shove his baser side down. Hermione was his work partner at the moment, not the woman he’d been slowly falling into orbit of. Getting pulled closer until an inevitable collision. He looked desperately forward to it. 

But her draw was undeniable. As she gathered her notes at the podium he assumed the position behind her to the left, more bodyguard than colleague. He was more than happy to allow her to do all the talking. Although Theo considered himself charismatic–Draco called it dreadfully loquacious–he knew Hermione’s genuine intelligence and knowledge would get them further than his schmoozing.

“We are here to discuss the proposal of Ministry Sanctioned Werewolf Shifting Houses,” a distant scoff became a rushed clearing of a throat, “I will be presenting the logistics of the proposal and Theodore will be discussing the funding.” 

One member of the Wizengamot was shifting in his seat and Hermione’s eyes sliced straight to his as his mouth opened, “We ask that you leave all questions until our proposal is complete, to preserve time and reduce redundancy.” 

Theo had to stifle a snicker at her directness. Hermione was nothing if not a straight shooter. One of many qualities he admired in her. His deliciously courageous witch. His.

The reaction from the member was certainly less welcome, the slightly older man shifted uncomfortably. His eyes though, they roamed Hermione appraisingly. The man seemed to like a challenge, he was intrigued. Theo found himself imagining gripping the man’s throat and forcing him down to his knees, to apologize and grovel at Hermione’s feet. Daydream Hermione would be shocked but would softly tell Theo, ‘enough’. And like the good pet he was, he’d release the man and take up his vigil beside her once more. 

What in Merlin’s name had gotten into him? Focus, Theo, now is decidedly NOT the time. 

“First and foremost, this endeavor has already secured funding by anonymous donors who learned of our efforts. No monetary assistance will be required of the ministry.” Hermione paused to eye the stout financial advisor of the ministry, his beady eyes squinted at her over wire-rimmed glasses. Her direct challenge stirred something low in Theo’s stomach, as well as something lower, baser, within him. Theo chided himself, manage it, you relentless school-boy. 

“We will require assistance in finding a construction company who specializes in werewolves, likely from overseas, considering Wizarding Britain’s-” Hermione cleared her throat pointedly and raised a brow, “-rudimentary efforts to include werewolves in society. We lack the technology and innovators that our contemporary countries have due to our prejudices.”

“We intend to provide accommodations that will not only keep the werewolves safe and contained during transition, but provide comfort and minimize stress. These considerations will be taken into account during construction and are non-negotiable. Theodore and I will manage all staffing of these shifting-houses, though we hope to partner with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to provide aurors on a rotating shift to protect those in shift, as we have seen a rise in attacks on werewolves during the vulnerability of the shift.”

“Should we secure a partnership between our efforts and the DMLE, we would look into compensating the aurors who participate in the rotation with an additional stipend and a training course that we are constructing similar to those in Albania to train aurors on non-lethal de-escalation with shifted werewolves.”

“We are proposing 3 shifting houses to start, a modest offering considering the skyrocketing numbers of afflicted individuals post-the Battle of Hogwarts. Each shifting house will accommodate roughly twenty individuals and we hope to expand our efforts with further locations should they be successful. A board will be assembled to oversee the operations of the shifting houses and ensure that they continue to serve our proposed population of werewolves. At this time Theodore will explain the minutia of funding allocations.”

Hermione stepped back and allowed Theo to replace her in front of the podium. Finally able to rest and relax the tension in her shoulders, she observed Theo as he outlined the financial plans. 

Theo held himself with an air of confidence, as though he were hosting an intimate dinner party in his home, speaking with intimate friends, at all times. It was one of the things that had burrowed deep in her mind and planted seeds, sprouting the idea he could be something more to her than a mere friend or business partner. Competence was paramount to sexuality.

There was a soft humming in the auditorium, as Wizengamot members jotted scattered notes on parchment, some huffed in annoyance, but ultimately the request to withhold questions until the end of the presentation was upheld. 

Theo drew his presentation to a close and glanced back over his shoulder. He caught Hermione’s whiskey honeyed eyes already on him. His searched her for just a moment before a lazy smile spread his pillowy lips. He gestured for her to come join him at the podium once more. He felt her warmth return to his side and the sensation nearly drew a throaty moan from him, but he swallowed it down.  

“That will conclude our presentation on the Shift House Act and we will accept questions at this time. Thank you for your patience and consideration.” Theo announced and to Hermione’s dismay about fifteen wands illuminated, indicating questions to be answered. 

The questions ranged from all manner of concerns. Valid queries about timelines and research to inane complaints that the act was unneeded in itself. Hermione chewed her bottom lip until warm iron filled her mouth. This act could positively impact so many lives. It would be a step toward inclusion and protection, therefore it needed to pass. 

Her heart panged in her chest wildly as she glanced at the handsome werewolf beside her. If you asked Theo about whether the transition had been difficult he would easily laugh and supply a goofy anecdote. But Hermione had seen him return from shifting leave. She’d seen the bruised chasms beneath his eyes, and his hollow unseeing gaze. The shift was hard on the mind and body, and she would be damned if she allowed people like Theo to suffer any more than they had. 

Erin Whittock had excused them once all questions had been answered and announced it was time for deliberation and voting. Theo, for all his nonchalance, was practically vibrating with apprehension. Hermione stretched her pinky beside her until it wrapped around his, the best reassurance she could provide while still appearing professional.

Theo’s breath sighed out at the touch, deflating his shoulders and tightened his pinkie solidly around hers. 

“Witches and wizards of the Wizengamot, have you come to a decision on the proposed Shift House Act?” Erin’s alto tone rang through the room, amplified by her wand poised gently at her neck. 

An elderly witch with plum covered velvety robes rose from her seat and amplified her voice, “We have. The Shift House Act will pass with the condition that a member of the Wizengamot, chosen by Miss Granger and Mister Nott be provided a seat on the board, are you content with these conditions?” She asked as she turned toward Theo and Hermione where they stood frozen on the spot.

Hermione’s heart leapt in her chest, “We gladly accept those conditions. Thank you all for your time and consideration.” Her voice was sure and complimentary but Hermione swore she could’ve cast a forty foot otter patronus on the spot in utter joy. 

The meeting ended shortly thereafter with Theo offered Hermione his arm as he led her out of the auditorium. 

Wide eyes turned on Hermione, “We did it! You did it.” Theo paused once they’d turned the corner and stood off to the side in the hallway. He gripped her hands in his and leaned forward until his forehead softly touched hers, “Thank you for caring about us,” he whispered, warm breath slipping against her lips. Hermione leaned forward and was about to chase his lips but stopped herself before they connected, blushing furiously, remembering their setting. 

“Let’s celebrate,” Theo’s eyes glinted mischievously and Hermione’s stomach clenched in anticipation. 

“What do you have in mind?” Hermione easily slid her hand into his and intertwined their fingers.

“Not sure yet, let’s go find out.” 

They descended upon Diagon Alley with a wicked sense of joy and a lightness of heart neither could recall feeling since early childhood. Threads of contentment and comfort wove between them, palpable in the bright night air. 

Though blind to it themselves, those who took in the budding couple that evening would be able to observe the way a shimmering glow encased them. An elderly couple would observe them as they rushed into a shop buzzing with private laughter. The kind of private that wasn’t to keep others out, but because they were within a world of their own making. 

⭑⭑⭑

“Hermione, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Ginny dipped her head and looked at her with big doe eyes before stooping over and putting her hand on her hip dramatically, “the baby is insisting upon Fortescue’s Ice Cream, and if it doesn’t get it, I fear my body may succumb.” 

Before, Hermione would’ve playfully punched Ginny in the shoulder and rolled her eyes, but ever since she got pregnant, Hermione found it near-painful to deny things from her. 

“I would never withhold something from my darling little niece or nephew,” Hermione’s voice rose an octave as she grinned and fussed at Ginny’s still flat stomach. Ginny stormed through the doors and forged ahead, ordering a black raspberry chunk ice cream. Hermione barely had her order of dulce de leche out of her mouth before a blunt obsidian bob caught her eye shimmering in the sun.

“Pansy?” Hermione called out, eyes widening as she considered the possibility she was shouting at a stranger. The bob swished, causing a miniature galaxy to dance on her tresses, and Hermione saw a signature plum colored smirk turn toward her. 

“Lioness? How good to see you’ve ventured beyond the pride.” Hermione may have taken umbrage with the way emerald eyes appraised her from head to toe, but a demure grin brightened Pansy’s face as she was tugged into a hug. Pansy and Ginny pretended to have a heated stare-off before finally chuckling and planting kisses on each other’s cheeks. 

“Parks, it’s been much too long. Harry is raring to defend his title. Tell Blaise to schedule the next scrimmage,” Ginny angled an elbow playfully into Pansy’s ribs. Pansy adeptly slid back, it was notoriously hard to catch the woman off guard. It was as though behaving in an undignified way was impossible for her. 

“Tell him yourself,” Pansy gestured her chin behind her and Hermione glanced around Ginny to see Blaise dodging the midday crowd and waving as he caught up to them. 

“Bloody shoppers. This is why I prefer to order things via owl.” Blaise whined, a non-threatening growl escaping his throat. Pansy rolled her eyes and examined her nails. He leaned in and hugged Hermione and Ginny warmly. Blaise and Pansy were turned as well during Greyback’s rampage. They had the poor fortune of inhabiting the Malfoy manor right before the final battle. 

“Potter wants another showdown,” she informed him, before looping her arm through his own. This information did nothing to improve her paramour’s mood.

“Pompous Chosen One. He’s on. This time I’ll convince Draco to come. Then you lions are nothing but an oversized meal.” His words were confident but his expensive black shoes continued to tap the pavement in annoyance. 

Hermione enjoyed this exchange greatly. None of them were plagued by house prejudices besides some light-hearted joking. It bothered her, in hindsight, how Hogwarts employed the house system. Though more innocuous than blood purity prejudice, it sought to further denote and divide students based on perceived “differences”. 

“Why don’t the two of you join us?” Hermione suggested to the couple, Ginny nodded enthusiastically around a mouthful of ice cream. Blaise didn’t bother responding, only headed straight to the counter to order his own. He was a simple man driven by the pleasures in life, Hermione had learned over their budding friendship. Always the first to gather a drink, a sweet, or indulge in his woman.

“We just ate, but you know Blaise,” Pansy faux-complained as she glanced toward the cashier with a contented sigh. She pulled up a seat beside Ginny. “I heard a rumor that Ms. Hermione and our Theodore had a magical date.” Pansy arched a manicured brow and fixed her determined gaze on Hermione who squirmed. 

Ginny grinned conspiratorially, “Oh, she was like a school girl in the days after. ‘Ginny he was so handsome,’ ‘He made the whole picnic himself,’ ‘Even the faeries seemed to agree’.”

Hermione scoffed at Ginny, feeling the warm rush of blood to her cheeks, but did nothing to deny the claims. Pansy laughed with her, but gently placed a hand over Hermione’s own, “Don’t worry. He was quite the same. Though, I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Draco seemed positively strained when he congratulated Theo.”

Hermione straightened and Pansy’s eyes narrowed. Ginny was blissfully unaware, thank Merlin, but Blaise’s lips quirked in a knowing smile as he settled in beside them. 

“I’m not sure why he would have been bothered,” Hermione muttered, prodding her ice cream with her spoon. Blaise’s answering scoff earned him a hard stare from Pansy, who softened as her eyes flicked back to Hermione. 

“Not sure bothered is quite the word I’d use.” Pansy emphasized the word rather breathily. Hermione suddenly felt positively scorching. Surely her face would sustain second degree burns the way they had her blushing. 

Pansy and Blaise had a tendency for poking and prodding at sensitive subjects, though they knew when to pull back. Feeling her uncertainty, they dove into a conversation with Ginny about all the baby preparations since she’d made the announcement while Hermione withdrew into her mind. 

Theo admitted he had been courting Hermione for months, using dated pureblood traditions that flew directly over Hermione’s head. They had agreed they both wanted more than dates, a relationship, but she was worried she was probably already in love. She was well and truly fucked.

“I’ll be right back,” Hermione excused herself. She sought her way to the bathroom and promptly shut herself in. After using the bathroom and taking some deep stabilizing breaths, she felt ready to return to the table. Hopefully nonchalant enough to convince her companions the comments about her partner and his best friend didn’t cause a full meltdown in her mind. 

It could never be that easy though, as when she stepped out, she walked directly into Cormac McLaggen who was leaning just beyond the door frame. 

“Hermione Granger,” he steadied her and then ran a hand up her arm in a move much more familiar than they were. His grin was predatory as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “How good to see you.”

“Step back McLaggen. She’s not interested,” Pansy’s signature hiss was accentuated by a low growl rattling deep in her chest. Cormac had the good sense to jump a few steps back from Hermione. Not far enough, the moon wouldn’t be far enough.

“I was only steadying her Parkinson. No need to white knight,” his response was sour as Pansy shifted around him until she was between the werewolf and Hermione. 

Straightening her back Pansy said, “Scamper along, now. Play time is over.” It was not a request from the woman, but a command. 

Turning on his heel, he stormed by them. Once Cormac was past the threshold of Fortescue’s, Pansy turned to Hermione, all her malice replaced with her pleasant smile. “Ginny was talking about the auror time off bill, apparently it passed. I thought you may want to hear the details?” 

Hermione was grateful for Pansy’s graceful tact in this moment. Pansy slid her arm through Hermione’s and guided her back through the shop to their little table nestled in the corner. She couldn’t help the nagging feeling that Pansy’s intervention wasn’t purely accidental. It reminded her of the day in her office when Draco and Theo were nearly feral at the smell of her mild fear. 

“Thank you,” Hermione said discreetly. She saw Pansy return a small nod.

⭑⭑⭑

Draco leaned back against the chaise that Theo lounged sideways on. Draco allowed his vision to blur along the artful beams in the oak ceiling. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” Theo groaned. Draco cocked his head back to see his beta more clearly. He didn’t bother asking what he meant, only lifted one brow questioningly.

“I can’t even think straight! My instincts are constantly focused on her. Every thought is consumed by her. Every time I hold back on marking her, it’s physically painful.” Theo’s voice was softer than usual. Draco huffed a sigh as he rose, and paced to the bar for another firewhisky. He walked to the matching chair in the study, sinking into it and wrangling his many conflicting thoughts. 

He knew what Theo meant better than his friend believed. Ever since the change, any time he was in the vicinity of Hermione Granger, it was as though she flooded his every sense. He’d become intoxicated at a whiff of her perfume, causing him to freeze in his tracks just to consume every trace of her greedily. She could be in the crowded ministry atrium, but Draco’s ears would catch any shuffle of her feet, or the subtle rustling as she rooted for paperwork in her beaded purse. A muted grin spread his lips at the thought of her illegal bag with its extension charm, his clever little witch. She never did much care for rules that didn’t suit her. 

“Remind your wolf, she’s yours. I can’t imagine the swot would take well to being marked without an exhaustive analysis of the pros and cons of such an action.” Draco’s words were hardly past his lips before a deafening growl ripped up through Theo’s throat. Draco turned a bored look on him until Theo’s upper lip stopped curling over bared teeth. 

“I would never force her into a bond,” Theo passionately asserted. There was no room to argue his resolute tone, as his hands gripped the chaise so tightly his knuckles strained white over bone. His eyes were a stormy rainforest. Draco’s alpha was deeply satisfied with his beta’s response to his provocative words.

“I know. Besides, I’d have to kill you if you had,” Draco casually shrugged, but the words held a dark edge he instantly regretted. He needed to get a handle on this possessive urge that followed any mention of Granger. Theo didn’t deserve to be postured at. He respected and supported Draco, not only as an alpha, but as his closest friend. 

“You’d better,” Theo whispered as a shadow of horror drew over his face. Theo was hyper-sensitive to Hermione. The mere thought of anyone, even himself, taking away her autonomy and acting without consent was enough to send him into a full emotional tailspin. 

He barely registered Draco’s concerned expression across from him. He was too wrapped up in imagined horrific scenes of Granger’s warm olive skin with blood mixing among her light smattering of freckles. A look of horror widening her mahogany eyes as tears gathered and fell. Merlin, fuck. 

Theo shuddered and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs and dropping his head into his hands. 

A sudden whine strangled its way out of Draco’s throat that shook Theo out of his macabre daydream, whipping his head to glance at Draco.. They stared at each other for a moment in surprise before Draco cleared his throat and apprised Theo, eyes searching.

“I could sense your distress… my alpha, he’s very protective of his beta,” Draco softly explained. 

The excuse was thin and they both knew it. They could never quite could define their relationship ever since they’d been changed. The wolves within brought heightened emotions, but also perplexing behaviors out of them. Each of them had despised any woman the other had taken out on dates, or to their beds. 

There was a tension now whenever they spoke about romantic partners that caused the other to become agitated. They’d nearly fought over it enough times already. Their chests heaving with rumbling breaths and fists balled at their sides. Seething with anger for reasons they couldn’t acknowledge. They never lashed out physically, neither had that urge. It was something else. Something more. Though, neither was willing to evaluate this yet.

Strangely, though, with Hermione Granger, that was not the issue that arose. Each was desperate for her, but it didn’t divide them. 

No, it was common ground. Ground they both wanted to explore. Expand. 

A shared devotion, their goddess to protect and exalt. Though Draco felt a tinge of jealousy that Theo actually got to worship her. It wasn’t truly envy, just the wish that he too could hold and protect her. Seek her out when the world was too dark and bask in her glowing light. 

⭑⭑⭑

Hermione helped Harry clean up the plates from dinner in comfortable silence, only the clinking of the plates and Ginny’s occasional overfull groan from the couch cutting through. Hermione had been in her head since Fortescue’s Ice Cream. The way Hermione retreated into her mind didn’t escape Ginny’s notice. 

Her comfort zone was deep within her own psyche, dissecting and unfurling her thoughts and emotions until she could intellectualize every moment of feeling. Break things down into baser parts and analyze them at all angles. Run each moment repeatedly through her mind’s eye until she was sure she interpreted everything thoroughly.

It wasn’t productive to do such a thing, she knew this deep down. But the comfort of receding into her intelligence was familiar and safe. It protected her from the reminder that control is just an illusion.

Post-war, Hermione realized she may have a bit of a control problem. It wasn’t like it cropped up out of nowhere, however. A decade of life-threatening events and battles during her formative teenage years left damage that couldn’t be healed with a simple charm and some dittany. Panic attacks gripped her at night, while nightmares kept her from resting peacefully, and eventually she began seeing a mind healer. 

The road to recovery was long, and Hermione was only just beginning. A necessary journey.

Theo threw a wrench in everything. She was working on herself, and she was improving, day after grueling day. And so, she began living her life again, instead of walking through memories and nightmares in a barely conscious haze. And of course, this handsome, curly haired, gentle, newly-turned werewolf just had to treat her like a goddess of old. He made her feel more than just present, he made her feel alive!

But that brought its own cauldron of issues. 

Her neatly tucked away and examined feelings were suddenly vibrant and teeming. Hermione wasn’t sure she knew how to do this part. Without a potentially world-changing war and villains bent on her extermination, how did one date without a sense of impending doom?

“I can hear the cogs grinding even under your mass of wild hair,” Harry complained jokingly. His eyes, however, betrayed his concern. He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and ignored the rest of the cleanup. Hermione sighed and joined him. 

“I’m… confused,” she admitted. Harry nodded solemnly, attention fully on her. He may not understand the way her complex brain worked, but out of everyone on this planet, Harry Potter knew Hermione Granger best, and she him. 

“Are you confused? Or afraid? I’ve never known you not to understand what is going on in your own mind.” His statement was matter of fact, but not unkind. Hermione scrubbed a hand over her face and felt her shoulders droop. He was right, she was afraid. If she was honest with herself, she felt feelings were deeper than she had ever had for Theo, and some nagging feeling in her gut told her that this was a tragedy. It was only a matter of time until it was all brutally taken from her. 

“Harry, I think I’m falling in love,” Hermione’s admission was less lovestruck and more in line with someone in a zombie apocalypse, who has to admit they were bit in their last scuffle with the undead. 

Harry cocked his head in confusion as his brows knit together, “This is a bad thing?” 

A deranged giggle bubbled out of Hermione’s chest, “I guess not, but I think… I’m in love with Theo and I’m so frustrated, Harry. After everything we’ve been through, all this normalcy is terrifying! How am I supposed to tell him ‘oh I’m falling for you, but it’s sending me into a tailspin because I don’t know how to just be happy?’” The words tumbled out of her like lightning seeking the ground. 

“Mione,” Ginny called softly from the doorway. Hermione whipped her head around as she realized that not only had she spilled her teeming thoughts, but Ginny had heard as well. “You’re allowed to be happy, and to feel at peace. It’s going to be extremely uncomfortable sometimes because you’ll have to be open and vulnerable, but no one is braver than you.” Ginny slowly came up to her and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. 

“We’re always here for you,” Ginny sighed before kissing the top of her head and then caressing her cheek. She moved to her husband who stood, kissing her sweetly, “I for one, am going to take a bath and then knock out, this mini Potter is sucking all my energy dry.” She caressed her stomach lovingly and made her exit with a wave over her shoulder. 

Hermione turned back to Harry who was gazing longingly at the space his wife had just left, “What if it all just goes wrong?”

“I don’t think love can be wrong,” he answered honestly, “besides, if anyone deserves an excess of affection, I can’t imagine anyone more deserving than you.” He reached over to grasp her hand. 

Harry had a proclivity for making profoundly meaningful statements seem clear as day and matter-of-fact. It was one of the things that made them so compatible. He had the ability to extinguish her overthinking, while she made sure his wild schemes didn’t get them killed. 

She launched herself at him and was caught with a chuckle as she hugged him tightly.

“Besides, you always have me,” Harry muttered into her wild curls. 

________________________

hope y'all are enjoying, things are heating up heheh

[miamigrandprix]

💌

first of all obsessed with the complementary theo pic, ty

meghan!!! you are so so kind and i am always touched that you think of me and reach out and ask about my day 🥹 ty for always supporting me ily 💖💖💖

[lowkeyclueless5137]

Doodles dump! Digital edition >:3c

Bcs on the sketchbook I did references for my current comic and thus I won't spoil u yet :3

This time is a lot of Jade for sum reason :v

We starting with the new au i didn't explain: the fight club au

The premise is basically MK meets Streetfighter, meets twst, meets real world. With Epel trying to get around New York and attending the prestigious NRC school for mages. He uncovers a secret fight club and gets recruited by a misterious fighter in order to uncover a secret drug ring.

The magical girl au :D

This was more of silly doodle time, but there are a few hints of the au's plot :P

Lowkey I didn't know how Ace was gonna look like at first, but now I know EXACTLY why he turned out like this. Parkour I guess :'3

This is from the lettler exchange p5 x twst au :v

Noting how I confirmed that the velvet room attendees are siblings, I HAD to make a few shenaningans in between them :3

Lavenza and Floyd are the ones who get a new fusion method, thus Igor(the deemed parent), Had to instruct Floyd first so he could tell Lavenza as well. I really like how the uniforms turned out tbh.

And yes, this implies that all the attendees are mers. Lavenza, Theo and Elizabeth are eels, while Margret and Azul are octopuses. Might draw those one day :v

For context, it's this spuerhero au. :'3

Ace is the funny lil guy that has and absolute TRAINWRECK of a backstory. And Riddle as well, but I wanted to practice a bit on backs and side profiles, but I also wanted to add sum context ;3

TWO :D

I tried to get around model references, because GODDAMN some of those peeps look like sum bones are in the wrong place :v

also colored vgs, bcs I saw some using those and I do enjoy sum complementary color sumtimes :'3

And what better au than jjba au? The first one is ur hint at the main plot idea of this au, while the latter is a ref for Azul and his stand: Dark Side Of The Moon. I tried to also see how realistically his stand would resist against things, seeing how it is made out of bulletproof glass, also a lot of Drag inspo for his stand tbh. :'3

You know it, I know it, WE AIN'T ESCAPING THE MLB MILD AU<3

It's a sort of tease of what happens during the mlb specials, which all happen post the main 4 seasons ya'll read and saw me losing my shit abt. :'3

YES, THERE WAS A REASON I TEASED MALLEUS'S FAM DRAMA!

Think that NY and Shangai Specials happen at the same time, but each of the our main 2 heroes go through sum self discovery post all that chaos with Madame Moth. Riddle with accepting the flaws of himself and coming in terms with his new family dynamic, while Malleus comes in terms with the tesnsion and the chaos around himself and the fact that he cannot ignore changes he doesn't like anymore.

And the other miraculous au, this time the maleidiazu hard au version.

Since Jade got the butterfly miraculous, I thought that the twins would be ABSOLUTE MENACES to Azul.

For Jade's design, I saw those very pretty butterfly decorations photos and I fixated on Gabe's butterfly tending hat. I also wanted to allude to his eel form, so I imagined a long, sleek, trein, reminescent of a cocoon, that can flare up and reveal it's true shape of a half wing, the top vest part acting as the 2nd part of the wing. He looks pretty aloof, the kind of person you'd assume would be nice, but the veil is like your warning sign, with the butterflies always sitting on the outside, all alert. I really liked how he turned out and probably is one of my favorite designs in this au tbh.

And again, Jade for the last one: the Jjk mild au. damn, I can't find the post

I knew right off the batch that I wanted this mf to get some inspo from Nobara's uniform, just because I think Floyd-pre curse era would have a more yuji insp uniform and since in cannon jjk these 2 were like besties and up to shenaningans at first, I thought it would be a fun and subtle reference. :3

The reason that yellow overall is shown, is bcs underneath the jacket, Jade has a top of a similar shape, mostly to accomodate his brother.

It's fun to think that Jade's so reserved and acts humble, but in here there's literally the truth. He's thrown in this world with 0 knowledge, trying to gather up the disaster that was left behind his brother and just fix things that he isn't responsible for in the first place, all for his own selfish reasons. It's fun :D

and that would be all for now :3

[bibliomars]

'Vincent: A Graphic Biography' by Simon Elliott

This Vincent van Gogh biography is far from comprehensive, but it is still a wonderful place to start when learning about this artist. It is narrated by his sister-in-law, Jo van Gogh-Bonger, who is the reason he is celebrated so extensively today. The book takes the reader through van Gogh’s life from birth until death, exploring both the good and bad moments. While the end does get quite detailed, I wish the beginning of his career had been more thoroughly explored. Another critical part of his life that could have been examined in more depth was his stay in Arles with Paul Gauguin. These nine weeks were crucial to how we perceive the post-impressionism movement today, as neither van Gogh’s nor Gauguin’s art would be what we know without that period. A really good complementary read for this part of van Gogh’s life is Martin Gayford’s The Yellow House.

One thing worth congratulating the author for, in particular, is the final section of the book. The prose is incredibly well-written, allowing the reader to gain insight into how and why we know van Gogh’s work in the way we do today. This is all thanks to the aforementioned Jo van Gogh-Bonger, who preserved Theo van Gogh’s legacy and promoted Vincent’s work worldwide.

Regarding the graphic nature of the novel, I felt the reading order of the prose could have been clearer, as at times I didn’t know where to continue reading. The illustrations seemed rather lacklustre in the beginning, but Elliott’s style really develops and shines when depicting van Gogh’s paintings, which deserves applause. It feels like a perfect communion of both artists' styles.

Overall, it is an enjoyable read, definitely targeted towards people unfamiliar with or just beginning to explore the life of this legendary painter, though it may leave more seasoned art history lovers wanting more.

Thank you, Quarto Publishing Group – White Lion, for providing an ARC for review via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.

[shelbeewrites]

Chapter One | In the Beginning

-> story masterpost

-> ao3 link

“They hurt people, Cassandra! They hurt you.” Tears had started to form in his eyes as he shouted. “How can you even think of supporting people who cause violence and chaos with every step they take? You have the power to change things, to speak up–”

“What happens if that's all you can do? Hm? What if you have talked so much you can speak no longer?” She felt tears growing, stinging the inner corners of her eyes, and fought them back. “What if you’ve done everything right, but it’s all led you to nothing?”

The word echoed around the chamber. Terran braced himself on the nearest tabletop, not daring to make eye contact with her.

“Change doesn't come easy.” His voice had dropped into its scary low register, but it cracked under the weight of his tears.

She shifted slightly. “And sometimes drastic measures need to be taken.”

His hands tensed, clenching and unclenching, and his eyes remained on the contents of the table. Cassandra could barely see the tears dripping off of the end of his nose, but his silence said enough. This conversation was over.

The sun had barely risen above the mountain-lined horizon, the sky a blend of tangerine, gold, chartreuse, and lobelia blue. The warm morning light illuminated the fields of grass and rock, the smell of dew permeating the air just as the ground sparkled under the sun’s rays. The silence accompanying the early morning was only broken by the occasional tweeting of birds and the hoofsteps of the horses they rode upon.

Evie sat quietly atop Apollo, petting his dun coat gently as she glanced around at the four knights surrounding her.  She hadn’t really felt like talking the whole journey, instead just silently observing. She was sure that the rest of the survivors were just as quiet out of respect, though respect for what? There were a myriad of answers to that. Sometimes it almost seemed rude to speak, at least to her, so the group rode in virtual silence for days.

Riding in silence wasn’t all bad, of course. Evie got to truly experience the environment around her. The breathtaking mountains, the winding rivers, the chasmic valleys… they all were renewed in her ashen eyes, and the view only continued to grow in beauty. Apollo and the rest of the horses slowed to a stop as the riders reached the top of the nearby hill, and she almost gasped at the sight. 

Below stretched a pine-filled valley, the vast greenery broken up only by a rushing river that cut right between two enormous mountains and led to the heart of the valley. It was there in the center of the cerulean and emerald laid the city of stone with a castle rising above all else. The hill was just close enough to see a faint glimpse of a flag fluttering about at the tallest reaches of the castle’s towers, the violet jutting out from rushing pale blue and the encroaching green.

“My lady,” one of the riders called, “we should continue. Vale Serine is only a half a day’s ride from here.” Evie's gaze drifted from the Vale to the knight, and she simply nodded solemnly.

“You called, Mother?”

Rays of early morning light gently fell through the window and onto the two figures standing in the dining hall of the castle. Standing next to the table was Cassandra's mother, Queen Ginevra, in a regal, deepcut black gown, mulling over a display of fruit with a slender, ivory hand. She didn’t bother to look at her daughter, not even as she monotonously spoke. “Glad you could join us, Cassandra.”

The princess’s jaw tightened as she gave her mother a forced smile and took her place next to Theo, her only ally in the room. She was less out of place standing next to him when he was wearing a shirt and trousers that were so clearly thrown on at the last minute. She actually looked better than Theo at the moment. Cassandra had gotten up earlier than usual in hopes of doing some dagger training, so her tunic and pants were not only complementary but also accessorized with a necklace; however, the summons put a stop to Cassandra's plans for the morning.

Ginevra’s first glance at her daughter resulted in a crinkled nose and a large drink from her cup, the faint scent of berry and alcohol floating through the air. When she set down the cup, she sighed before continuing on. “As you both know, we will be welcoming a new member of the family to the castle. Evangeline will be arriving around noon today, and I expect both of you to be at the official welcoming ceremony–” the queen looked at Theo– “as well as the knights.” Theo nodded silently. “And please, for the love of the kingdom and all that is good, look presentable.”

Ginevra’s gaze landed on her daughter.

“Don’t worry, Mum,” Cassandra said, a giant smile on her face, and picked up a blood red apple, “I’ll wear my best nightgown.”

Theo stifled a laugh and earned himself a glare of death from his queen, and Cassandra took a celebratory bite out of her apple when her mother’s stare returned to her. Ginevra shook her head, muttered something, took another swig from her cup, then proceeded with her speech.

“I expect you both to be kind to her…” There was a slight pause. “I also want you both to spend time with her after the ceremony, at least until dinner tonight.”

Cassandra almost choked on an apple bite, and Theo’s response was an involuntary, “Wait, what?”

“I am not babysitting,” Cassandra replied.

Theo joined in, “And I have incoming trainees, at least a dozen–”

Ginevra held up a lazy hand. “You will do as I say. It’s not even half a day of entertaining her, then you can go back to whatever it is you two do all day.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes and sighed. “I cannot believe you’re making us babysit.”

“Remember that this is your younger cousin who has just lost her parents tragically and suddenly, and she is now being thrown into a new environment with family she barely knows.” Ginevra’s intense glare moved between her daughter and the knight. “You will spend time with her, both of you, and get to know her. Give her a tour, or something, just entertain her until dinner.”

Cassandra pursed her lips, and reluctantly replied, “Fine.”

Theo nodded his head in agreement.

“Good,” the queen smiled. “Now, go and begin preparations for Evangeline’s arrival.”

The knight and the princess exchanged a look as discreetly as possible before bowing their heads to their queen, Cassandra's jaw clenching tighter as her head lowered. There wasn’t a word spoken between the two until the doors had closed behind them as they traipsed through the empty hallways.

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” Cassandra stated, sinking her teeth deeply into the apple.

“Oh, I fully agree,” Theo replied.

“And I cannot believe she played the tragedy card. Fucking guilt tripping us.”

“Here’s the thing,” Theo grabbed her arm and stopped the two’s advance. “I can’t ignore the incoming boys. I can cancel training for the rest, but I have to at least greet the newcomers and get them settled.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Cassandra half-chuckled.

“What?”

“You want me to entertain her by myself.”

“Well… yes.”

“Fantastic. You’re abandoning me in my time of need.”

“I am not!” Theo replied defensively. “I just need a few hours.”

“I’m not listening to this.”

“No, wait!” Theo reached for Cassandra's arm again as she turned to leave. “Hear me out.”

She crossed her arms, waiting silently.

“You entertain her alone while I take care of my new knights, and afterwards I will take her…” Cassandra raised her eyebrows, signaling that she required more for this deal. “...and… I, um…”

Theo stopped, trying to think for a moment.

 Cassandra finished the thought for him. “And I get to join training tomorrow.”

Theo scrunched his nose and furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Well, um, let’s see. I’m bored, and beating the shit out of some new knights will be fun.”

“Och…” Theo shook his head. “Fine. And you can join training tomorrow.”

“You have yourself a deal,” Cassandra grinned and patted Theo on the back.

“You know your mother’s not going to be happy about this,” he said as they continued walking.

“Eh, it’s worth it.”

“Great.”

Theo broke away from her shortly after the conversation ended, and Cassandra made her way to her chambers. Inside the quiet room, Cassandra's maidservant, Genevieve, scurried around completing everyday chores and tasks. Genevieve didn’t bat an eye as her mistress collapsed onto her bed in a half-assed dramatic fit.

“Mother has declared that my current state is unsuitable, and my punishment is becoming the sole entertainer of my younger cousin for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, my,” Genevieve replied casually. “So I’m assuming we must fetch you a new outfit and prepare a list of things to do with your cousin?”

Cassandra smiled and said, “You’re the best.”

Genevieve laughed and flung open Cassandra's wardrobe. “The queen still requires you to be in mourning, yes?”

Cassandra stared up at her ceiling, already too emotionally exhausted to move. “Mm-hm.”

“Then that eliminates basically half your choices.”

“Yes.” Cassandra rolled her head to the side, the view she had catching only a slight glimpse of her maidservant behind the wardrobe door.

“And you need something formal yet comfortable…” Genevieve seemed to be thinking out loud which was not an uncommon occurrence. When Cassandra failed to respond, the maid popped her head around the wardrobe door. “What are you doing?

“Uh, nothing?”

Genevieve sighed and gave the princess an exasperated look. “Get a paper and some ink and start writing ideas down.”

Cassandra pursed her lips, but she did as her maid said and found some spare paper on her desk. The morning light shining through the massive window ahead illuminated the dark wood surface. Cassandra picked up her quill on the corner of the desk to begin her list.

“I think the best course of action is to wear this one,” Genevieve said.

Cassandra looked over at Genevieve who held in her hands one of Cassandra's favorite black gowns.

“Great,” Cassandra replied.

Genevieve smiled, and Cassandra couldn’t stop herself from giving a small grin in return. “Okay, while I get this hung up and pick out some accessories, you start thinking about ideas and writing them down.”

The princess nodded and turned back towards the desk, but her eyes did not immediately turn towards the paper before her. Instead, Cassandra looked out towards the Never Peaks and the large hills before them. The rising sun lit up the grassy mounds just beyond the reaches of the city, and Cassandra thought she saw the blurry outlines of people on those small green patches. Fantastic, she thought to herself as she rolled her eyes a little. 

Every minute took months to pass. Instead of entering Vale Serine from the nearest district, the party had to take a longer route to avoid it. It was a nice distraction for Evie to ponder why a place named Serine’s Hope would be considered the city’s most dangerous district, but the distraction only lasted so long. Soon the guards at the top of the city walls had descended from their posts to personally greet the group at the gate. Evie took a deep breath as she prepared for her first human interaction in weeks— not including the few exchanges between her and the other survivors.

The conversation was exactly as Evie had expected it to be. It didn’t make it any less hard to bear through. The guards gave their deepest condolences, apologized for the actions of the southern rebels, and made several threats of violence and death towards the invaders of her home. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the sentiment, it was that she wasn’t necessarily ecstatic to relive the worst moments of her life for the entire day. Luckily, one of the others handled the situation so Evie wouldn’t have to speak. She just felt so sick to her stomach, and every horrid feeling bubbled violently inside her throat like acid as the gates opened.

Evie didn’t know what she had expected, but Vale Serine seemed so different from her home. The buildings didn’t even look relatively similar. Being in this city felt wrong… it was just so foreign. Evie glanced around at the wandering citizens going about their usual days, trying to ignore the way she wanted to throw up. 

Then she saw the face of a young boy about her age who stopped and looked as she approached. Evie's breath hitched as they locked eyes. It was as if her soul was bared to this boy, and somehow she knew he understood her pain without any words being exchanged. It was jarring as the boy broke the connection as he bowed his head, and Evie was forced to return to the city around her.

What she saw made her heart flutter. It had taken only mere moments for the citizens of Vale Serine to stop what they were doing and line the road. Parents clutched their children tightly, people removed their hats, and some placed hands over their hearts… but everyone followed suit. They all bowed their heads. Evie felt the hot sting of tears in the corners of her eyes, and she looked down towards her right. There, just as unsettling as before, was the boy staring back, the dead silence that befell the city echoing loudly.

Then there was a single voice. A deep one. Singing. It was faint and in the distance but easily recognizable. Someone had begun singing the kingdom’s anthem. The melody swept through the hordes of people like a plague until the silence was drowned out, and tears began pouring down Evie's face as a small smile grew on her lips. These people did not know her— most had probably never seen her— yet they lined the streets and paid respects in such a way that these people would never understand how grateful she was.

-> next chapter

[adnvietgen]

Vai Trò Của Enzim ADN Polimeraza Trong Quá Trình Nhân Đôi ADN

Enzim ADN Polimeraza đóng vai trò vô cùng quan trọng trong quá trình nhân đôi ADN, đảm bảo sự sao chép chính xác thông tin di truyền từ thế hệ này sang thế hệ khác. Bài viết này sẽ giúp bạn hiểu rõ hơn về chức năng, cấu tạo và hoạt động của enzim này trong quá trình nhân đôi ADN.

Chức năng

Enzim ADN Polimeraza xúc tác quá trình tổng hợp mạch ADN mới dựa trên mạch khuôn ADN mẹ. Enzim bổ sung các nucleotit tự do theo nguyên tắc bổ sung A-T, G-X để tạo ra mạch ADN mới complementary với mạch khuôn. Enzim sửa lỗi trong quá trình nhân đôi ADN, đảm bảo tính chính xác cho thông tin di truyền.

Cấu tạo

Enzim ADN Polimeraza là một protein phức tạp với nhiều cấu trúc:

Lõi enzyme: có chức năng xúc tác tổng hợp mạch ADN mới. Vùng liên kết DNA: giúp enzyme bám vào mạch khuôn ADN. Vùng liên kết nucleotit: giúp enzyme nhận biết và gắn nucleotit tự do vào mạch mới. Vùng sửa lỗi: giúp enzyme sửa chữa các sai sót trong quá trình nhân đôi ADN.

Hoạt động

Enzim ADN Polimeraza hoạt động theo 3 bước chính:

Bước 1: Khởi đầu: Enzim bám vào chỗ khởi đầu trên mạch khuôn ADN và bắt đầu tổng hợp mạch mới.

Bước 2: Elongation: Enzim di chuyển dọc theo mạch khuôn, bổ sung các nucleotit tự do theo nguyên tắc bổ sung A-T, G-X để tạo ra mạch ADN mới.

Bước 3: Kết thúc: Enzim hoàn thành tổng hợp mạch ADN mới khi đến chỗ kết thúc.

Các loại enzim ADN Polimeraza

Có 5 loại enzim ADN Polimeraza chính tham gia vào quá trình nhân đôi ADN, mỗi loại có chức năng riêng biệt:

Pol I: có chức năng tổng hợp mạch mới và sửa lỗi. Pol II: có chức năng tổng hợp mạch dẫn (primer) để khởi đầu quá trình nhân đôi ADN. Pol III: có chức năng tổng hợp mạch mới liên tục trên mạch khuôn 5' → 3'. Pol IV: có chức năng sửa chữa các sai sót trong quá trình nhân đôi ADN. Pol V: có chức năng tổng hợp mạch mới trên mạch khuôn 3' → 5'.

Enzim ADN Polimeraza đóng vai trò quan trọng trong quá trình nhân đôi ADN, đảm bảo sự truyền đạt thông tin di truyền một cách chính xác từ thế hệ này sang thế hệ khác. Enzim này cũng góp phần vào sự phân chia tế bào và phát triển của cơ thể.

Enzim ADN Polimeraza là một enzim quan trọng trong quá trình nhân đôi ADN, đảm bảo sự sao chép chính xác thông tin di truyền. Bài viết này đã cung cấp cho bạn những thông tin cơ bản về chức năng, cấu tạo và hoạt động của enzim này.

[saintcarlyon]

Nothing meaningful but it occurs to me that the dynamic between a father and their child is central to so many storylines in Rings of Power. Thoughts about each of the relationships I noticed under the cut. Spoilers abound!!

Fathers and their relationships with children are a strong theme in TROP, Bronwyn and Nori’s mom have influence but the dynamics of fathers are more prominent:

Elrond & Eärendil

Father is absent from the show but is continually referred to, sometimes by others as a prompt to Elrond toward an action they desire. Elrond respects yet seems daunted by his father’s legacy at times. Almost like he must live up to his father’s deeds.

The show does not address their parting aside from Elrond’s longing to see him again.

Mother was mortal?

Durin & Durin

Loving yet they are at odds as with their goals and beliefs. Durin the Younger wants the Dwarves to move forward though the issue in the show is helping the Elves. Durin the Elder is proud of his son and while he is right to be wary of mithril his decisions seem influenced by disdain for the Elves.

They part on bad terms when Durin the Elder disowns the younger.

Mother is absent, possibly dead?

Elendil & Isildur

At odds with the father frustrated at his son’s longing for Middle-Earth and inability to commit to a path. 

Ultimately encouraging of Isildur and strives to understand him.

They part on good terms but in dire circumstances.

Mother is dead.

Arondir (as a stand-in) & Theo

Arondir is distant but does what he can to guide and protect Theo.

Forgiveness is prominent (up there with the Brandyfoots) but understanding is somewhat strained.

Mother is alive and has a strong influence yet separate from Arondir’s.

Bronwyn’s husband (absent) & Theo

Not addressed, even by Theo when Rowan references his disappearance.

Largo Brandyfoot & Nori

Largo is protective and nurturing, overlooking Nori’s desire for exploration.

Values tradition but is accepting of Nori’s desire for exploration.

They part but on good terms.

(Step-)Mother has an influence matched and complementary to her husband. 

Tar-Palantir & Tar-Miriel

Distant due to duty and political ideologies and the declining health of Tar-Palantir.

Tar-Palantir is rarely cognizant of her, but it seems he loves her and respects her decisions.

They part on uncertain terms.

Adar & orcs

Adar is a figurative father to the orcs and claims responsibility for them.

Just as sadistic as the others but more controlled in those impulses. 

One of the more self-sacrificing and active father figures (Eärendil obviously but he’s not present and Arondir is active but balances his sacrifice with pragmatism).

Revered if not loved by the orcs.

The dismissed cadet’s father

Unseen but it is indicated that his expectations for his son’s naval career will damage their relationship.

Ontamo’s future father-in-law

Minor, but it’s mentioned that his betrothed’s father is proud of him and has an expectation of a military hero.

Ar-Pharazon & Kemen

Ar-Pharazon seems dismissive of Kemen, even as a potential political tool.

They do not part yet are on uncertain terms with each other.

[theonlytwoalive]

Theo was relieved when the Italian restaurant not only had a table, but gave them complementary drinks after he told them it was Saskia's birthday. The dinner went as perfectly as it could and now the two of them were on their way home, slightly buzzed.

Opening up the door, Theo was a giggling mess as they tried to take their shoes off. They felt like a teenager sneaking back home late and trying to be as quiet as possible.

"Come hereeee, wanna take that pretty dress off of you," Theo mumbled out as he moved over to Saskia. Wrapping his arms around her, he leaned over and pressed a needy kiss to her lips. "Let's finish your birthday off with a bang, baby!"

Saskia smiled softly as she saw Theo blush, still so happy she still had that affect on him. She appreciated everything they were doing for her birthday, making it special just for her. And she made a mental note that when his birthday came around, she was do everything she could to make it just as special.

Giving his lips another kiss, she smiled before pulling away and moving away to walk into their bedroom. "I'll go hop in the shower so let me know if I need to put on some sexy underwear or steal some of your clothes again."