#this could be a portrait for when you talk to him in a very stylish point-and-click adventure game

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I'm sorry but i'm addicted to our boy Spamton- I have a little unique request here. So this takes place where Spamton just moves in the Queen's mansion, he meets the reader and immediately falls for their kind words and gestures. Weeks pass, and he goes to see them, but catches them talking and hanging out with Swatch.. He gets really jealous to the point of changing his style to match Swatch's

"Oh [y/n]! Have You Met Our Newest Guest?"

"Uh, I don't believe-"

"He's An Interesting Addison Who Made A Big Name For Himself! Ohohoho!" Queen laughed joyously, pausing to sip her glass of battery acid. "I Wonder How He Got So Rich...No Matter. As My Peon, I Order You Greet Him......Whenever It's Convenient For You."

"Sure thing. I'll go now." With a respectful nod, you set off to the mansion's guest chambers to meet this newcomer. You've lived here for a long time--and somewhat reluctantly since Queen decided to make you one of her peons one day. But life was actually pretty good.

It wasn't like you had anything better to do, so if she needed someone to help her with plans that..didn't seem all-that urgent, you'll offer your assistance. She let you stay in the mansion for free and never made you do anything if you weren't feeling up to it.

For a tyrannical ruler she was rather kind.

Yet you didn't wanna take advantage of her hospitality, so you'd just listen to whatever she says. And if she wants you to meet this celebrity as part of her endless lists of requests, then you'll happily oblige. But you were eager too since you've seen his face on TV a lot. It felt like an honor.

After wandering the corridors of deactivated puzzles, Mona Lisa-esque portraits, and meticulously-placed pottery, you finally arrived at the guest rooms. You hummed a small tune as you passed by each one, stopping when you noticed one door was open.

Peeking inside, you saw the Addison still setting up things. A phone was tucked between his shoulder and ear as he moved a box whilst rambling to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Yea! I promise I won't let you down, okay? Soon I'll be bigger than ever before! I know I'm already a big shot but....haha, yeah, I shouldn't get carried away. Okay. Right..we'll discuss more of this tomorrow. Thanks!"

After hanging up the phone and returning it to the receiver, he finally noticed you and smiled. "Hey, hey! Haven't seen your face around here yet. But surely you know mine, right?"

"Yeah." You smiled, not wanting to shy away from talking with him. "Spamton, right?"

"Everybody's favorite number-one rated salesman!!" He laughed. "It's good you know me..'cuz soon ALL of Cyber World will know my name! It's a pleasure to meet you...?"

"[Y/n]. I'm one of Queen's peons." You shook his hand politely. The energy that radiated from him was so bright. Just as much as his pearly smile was.

Stepping inside, you glanced around at the luxurious furniture. He definitely got the higher-class rooms, with the addition of a large window that showed the neon green meridians that stretched across the night sky. It was certainly a beautiful view to fall asleep to. "Need help unpacking?"

"Oh--sure!!" At first Spamton seemed surprised by your offer, but he nodded. "If you want, be my guest. And while we unpack, I gotta ask you..how's it being Queen's peon?"

............

Weeks passed, and you've gotten to know Spamton more and more. You realized he was actually a sweet down-to-earth guy all around. Although he was on the phone a lot, he'd make time to hang out with you, so you two became fast friends.

He was truly living the best life. Posters of his car advertisements were littered all over the city, and the Swatchlings attended to his every need. Though one thing was hard to admit, even when it seemed like he had it all:

You were his only friend now that everyone else is intimidated by his status--as they would shy away from conversing with him--and the Addisons, well, abandoned him out of jealousy.

Obviously that made him worry about driving you away, especially when he's on the phone nonstop. But...the fact you've been so kind to him in every word and gesture, treating him like a regular person and not some untouchable celebrity, was quite endearing. Most admired him for his products, not his personality.

Your kindness made him fall for you hard and fast, ever since day one. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea; to let it get in the way of his business.

But what the hell? He was a big shot! He can afford to go a bit bigger and take more risks. Living in this mansion with someone who loved him would be the perfect dream.

There was a much bigger dream that his valued caller insisted he focused on, but that can come later.

So this morning, Spamton set out to find you to address these feelings once and for all. Yet he was rather nervous. Addisons were most confident in selling products, not so much...everything else. But he didn't wanna back down. He kept smiling no matter what.

As he checked inside the color café that he usually frequented, he saw you eating at the table. He noticed you weren't alone but with Swatch, talking and...

Laughing with them?

And just like that, his smile faded much like his hope.

Of course, the head butler had their ways to swoon people. He tried not to think of it as anything more than just their personality. It's just their way to entice returning customers.

That's all...right?

Spamton ducked behind one of the displays, listening in on your conversation to determine if he should proceed or not.

"By the way, we've known each other for a while and..I've always wanted to ask you something.."

"Yes? What is your inquiry?"

He held his breath. This is exactly what he feared. Knowing that you've been here longer, it's obvious you'd be closer to that damn bird-

"Your outfit."

Then he exhaled shakily, relieved. 'What are you getting so worked up for, idiot?' He thought in the back of his mind, but he continued eavesdropping.

"Did the Queen make it or give it to you? It's very stylish and really makes you stand out from the other Swatchlings."

"Ah, in fact I decided this look for myself." Swatch chuckled softly, raising a wing to adjust their glasses. "The tailor did marvelous work with my vision: black suit, tinted glasses. Very fashionable, is it not?"

"It is. I like it a lot."

"Why thank you. I see why our Lady Grace admires you. Just for that compliment, I'll give you a discount on any of our products in the gift shop."

"Should be every day if you ask me." You joked, earning another chuckle from them.

Seeing all of this and the way you two spoke like close friends was a jab in Spamton's heart-shaped object. 'So [y/n] likes people who stand out? Well I can stand out, too..' He thought bitterly as he stormed out of the shop without either of you knowing he was there.

Why should he settle with being a blank-slate Addison like the rest of them? He didn't consider himself one anymore.

Today, he told his valued caller, he was gonna be a whole new person.

It would help him get closer to both of his dreams, but there was only one on his mind now.

............

Later that night as you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You huffed in annoyance, assuming Queen needed you for something.

She had a knack for disturbing you at ungodly hours. But knowing better than to ignore her, you went to answer the door anyways-

To some strange black-haired guy in a black suit and white turtleneck sweater.

"Hi, um...can I help you?"

"[Y/n]? It's me."

"....wait....Spamton?"

"Yeah!" The salesman laughed, throwing his arms out and making a pose. "Whatdya think of me now?"

Perplexed, you looked him up and down. He ditched the lime-green pants, instead wearing white trousers. And his hair was slicked back. But what was most peculiar about him were his glasses, tinted with pink and yellow lenses.

Had you not known any better, you would've thought Swatch suddenly shrunk and became robotized.

"Cool but..you kinda look like Swatch a little bit. Was that on purpose?" You mused.

"...haha....yeah uh..funny story. Um.." He dropped the act, losing his trademark grin as he wondered how to explain himself and this sudden transformation. You could tell he wanted to talk inside the room, so you let him in and shut the door.

"I don't recall Queen mentioning any costume contest-"

"It's not a costume." He muttered, uncomfortably rubbing his hands together as he looked at you with sadness. "This is who I am now. The new me."

"..huh? You serious?" When he nodded, you frowned slightly. "I'm confused. You don't look like an Addison anymore-"

"That's the point...! I...I don't wanna be associated with them anymore. I decided to stand out, y'know? If you're gonna be a big shot, ya gotta stand out from the crowd!" He forced a laugh that sounded rather glitchy.

You didn't buy it. It wasn't like him to do this out of the blue.

"Spamton, why imitate Swatch of all people? And why out of the blue like this? I mean..I don't mind if you like their style. But I didn't even recognize you until you spoke."

Try as he might, he couldn't make any better excuses. So seeing that he was cornered made him finally admit his jealousy, overhearing your conversation with Swatch while he was browsing--when he really wasn't, but he didn't wanna come off as creepy.

His voice glitched further due to stress, accidentally blurting out some kind of...flirtatious term as he explained how much you meant to him since day one.

You weren't sure if he meant to say "hot single" on purpose. Though you were flattered that such a famous guy like him...actually had a crush on you, an ordinary Darkner who just fetched the Queen's stick wherever she threw it.

You found it hard to believe he thought of you that way..so you kept your own feelings buried. So to see that it's mutual was a relief, and it made you smile.

Spamton, on the other hand, was stressing the hell out. So much so he didn't even see your smile. He just saw himself being stupid the more he rambled on.

It was such a stupid, stupid reason to get insecure--to the point of changing his entire appearance without warning. All because you were friends with a butler who was doing their job???

How selfish can he get when he already had everything he wanted and more?

When he did acknowledge your small smile, he thought you were holding yourself back from laughing. But you had every right to laugh and call him a joke for thinking this will get your attention.

As he finished talking, he could see your smile fade and huffed. He waited for you to tell him how stupid he looks and to go back to being the plain old Addison you met.

Instead of ridiculing him you...hugged him?

At this point you were sitting on the bed together. Of course yours wasn't as massive as his was, but it was big enough for you two to share.

"Spammy, I'm flattered you like me in that way but...you didn't have to do all of this to get my attention. I promise there's nothing going on between Swatch and I. We're just friends. They're not replacing you or anything."

"I know, it's just.." Taking off the glasses, he set them aside before hugging you tightly, head buried in your chest. "I don't wanna lose the only person in this damn place who makes me feel like myself. Who loves me for me, not my success. And...I-I felt like I had to change something about myself to make sure of that."

"Well..you don't need to change anymore. I love you no matter what you look like."

He blinked, his face turning as red as his cheeks.

You could sense his embarrassment from the way he tensed up in your arms and chuckled, patting his hair softly. "Just..don't feel pressured to change for me..or anybody for that matter, okay? Or at least let me know if you're gonna change things up again."

"You don't think..I look stupid or creepy like this?"

"No. Honestly you look pretty handsome. Black hair suits you well."

Hearing those words made him breathe a small sigh of relief. He nodded and hugged you tighter.

His new looks were staying for good.

[kingwuko]

Wuko in the Comics: Ruins of the Empire: Book 1, Part 1

Welcome to my second post on Wuko in the comics. In this post I’ll be discussing the first half of Ruins of the Empire: Book 1. Wu is a prominent character in this comic trilogy, and there is lots of character development and exploration for him. There are also a lot of scenes with Wu and Mako together, and what’s more, there are a handful of visual parallels to Korrasami!

Ruins of the Empire

Book 1 of RotE was released in May 2019. The art style is different from Turf Wars- the colors are very vibrant and it almost looks like stills of the animated series. It takes place 3 months after the conclusion of the animated series, and there is lots of continuity following the events of Turf wars. Some major plot points that carry from Turf Wars include: Wu has been governing the Earth Kingdom, Korra and Asami are in a firmly established relationship, and Zhu Li is President of the United Nations.

Plot Summary

The first half of Book 1 of RotE highlights the transition of the Earth Kingdom into a democracy by focusing on the first state to hold its elections, Gaoling. Gaoling’s election is at risk of being disrupted by Earth Empire general, Guan, who didn’t surrender when the rest of the empire did. The Krew decides to accompany King Wu to Gaoling to ensure the election proceeds without interference.

Major plot points in the first half of Book 1

We start out with a flashback that sets the timeline for the rest of the comic. In Gaoling, Commander Guan is running an earth empire “reeducation camp” and has just gotten word that Kuvira surrendered, but isn’t planning to give up so easily. He insists that his “experiments” and the Earth Empire will go on, with or without Kuvira as the Earth Emperor…. Then we jump ahead 3 months to Republic City, City Hall. We start out with an excellent frame, the first of many Wuko Korrasami parallels! Get excited, there are SO many!

Bolin is working for President Zhu Li Moon now, because, why not? He just quit his job working with Mako on the police force, and now he’s Zhu Li’s administrative assistant or something. Zhu Li is going to be introducing King Wu for a “big speech” to the citizens of Republic City. Korra gives Wu a friendly elbow nudge and asks if he’s ready. (the first of many wholesome friendship moments between the two of them)

Wu is not ready, he’s nervous. He asks Mako to read his speech for him, and Mako says no way- but then he reassures Wu that he’ll do great. “Just be yourself” Wu is immediately comforted and says that Mako always knows the right thing to say and that must be why he keeps Mako around! (I can think of a couple other reasons...) Mako’s expressions are very stoic and closed off. He’s got his arms crossed and looks grumpy (I feel like I’m always saying Mako looks grumpy. But that’s the best adjective I can come up with).

Wu begins his speech where he announces that it’s almost time for the Earth Kingdom states to begin holding elections, starting in the state of Gaoling. Grandma Yin and cousin Tu are in the audience and Yin is booing Wu, and also yelling “Long live the monarchy” while holding framed portraits of Wu and Hou-Ting.

Asami, Korra, Mako and Varric are standing behind Wu, applauding along with the crowd (well, the crowd minus Yin). Korra and Mako casually compliment Wu, saying that he's doing great and almost looks like a real leader! Wu says that within a year there will be a peaceful transition to democracy. He gets bombarded by questions and panics and starts singing. He tosses his stylish hat into the crowd, which Yin catches and says “you’ll always be my king!” Mako covers his face with his hands, Korra says ”well you did tell him to be himself” and Mako says “this is NOT what I meant”. Sorry Mako. You know Wu better than anyone so you should have known a song was coming. Zhu Li takes the podium and Wu dramatically faints/collapses into Mako’s arms. I presume on purpose.

We cut to a scene of Kuvira’s trial. Kuvira, after being read the charges against her, pleads not guilty (because every thing she did was for the “greater good”), Suyin confronts her and Kuvira apologizes but Suyin isn’t having it and forcefully tells her that apologies aren’t enough, she has to take responsibility.

We move on to President Moon’s office, where Wu is sitting on a sofa and Bolin welcomes Asami, Mako and Korra in. Mako lampshades Bolin’s many career changes. Bolin makes a comment to Mako that just because Mako has “found” himself it doesn’t mean the rest of them have. I, for the life of me, can’t figure out exactly what Bolin is trying to say here. Is he referring to the fact that Mako has “found” his career as a detective? Or something else, like his true feelings for Wu? Probably the first thing but us Wuko shippers will happily apply it to the other thing.

Once everyone is settled in, Wu asks them to come with him to Gaoling for the upcoming elections! Mako is actually not thrilled, and tells Wu that they aren’t going to be there for him to show off as his entourage. Wu is like No, that’s not it! Well, yes, kinda. He wants their help dealing with the Earth Empire loyalists being led by Guan. The Earth Kingdom army is understaffed and Wu is worried the Guan will try to prevent the elections from happening. The Krew agrees that it could be a problem, especially since it could cause other states to back out of holding elections and allow the earth empire to rise again.

So the Krew plans to come to Gaoling to show support for the elections, hopefully deter Guan from interfering, and Mako says they will keep Wu safe. Zhu Li encourages Bolin to go as well. Wu is very excited to team up with Mako again! After they leave the President's office, Korra suggests going to go speak to Kuvira to try to gather intel on Guan- Asami is not thrilled and doesn’t want to go with her because Kuvira was responsible for her father’s death. Korra is understanding and supportive and they share a lovely little kiss before Korra heads off.

Korra arrives at Kuvira’s prison with Naga. We catch a quick glimpse into Kuvira’s mind as she remembers a moment from her childhood when she ran away from her parents-after her parents accused her of breaking a vase, the take away her toys and lock her in her room “for her own good”, and she uses her earth bending to break the wall and escape. This and other flashbacks attempt to make us more sympathetic to Kuvira so we can accept her redemption arc in the remainder of the comics. After her little flashback, Korra and Kuvira discuss Guan. Kuvira says she didn’t know Guan hadn’t surrendered, and that Korra should consider him a major threat because he is cunning and strategic. Then Kuvira tells Korra if she wants to stop Guan, she should bring Kuvira along to reason with him and convince him to stand down and surrender. Korra is not convinced, but Kuvira tells her to take time to think about it, and she’ll be there to help when Korra asks.

Meanwhile, Guan is rallying his troops. He’s got a sizable regiment of soldiers along with tanks, and is giving them a big speech about taking back the empire and rising from the ruins of defeat. He and his troops head out of their fortress, presumably to do exactly what everyone is worried about and stop Gaoling’s election.

Mako and Wu Scenes

Mako and Wu are featured in many scenes of these comics, together more often than not!

The very first scene with Wu, he is standing right next to Mako, in the same frame as Korra and Asami. I realize “standing next to each other” might not actually be ground breaking evidence for Wuko, but it feels like a parallel to Korrasami, and most importantly creates kind of an establishing shot, planting Wu at the center along with Korra. This is kind of amazing considering he was in only one season of the show and he was largely a comic relief character that I don’t think the writers meant for us to take seriously. There is a pattern of parallels in RotE with Korrasami and Wuko, and we don’t really need to reach for them. They are right there, visually.

We also get to see some lovely moments of Korra’s and Wu’s friendship. She elbows him good-naturedly. She’s kind and supportive. She compliments him. He does seem a little awkward but overall it seems he really fits in with the Krew now, and I find it really sweet. His characterization feels very different from the show. He isn’t obnoxiously flirting with every 'dame' he lays eyes on. He isn’t bratty, or materialistic. He’s still goofy and lands some comic relief joke moments, but overall he is treated like an actual character with substantial development and plot-advancing roles.

During Wu’s speech, Mako is staring like, way too intently at him while casually complementing how he almost looks like a real leader. (Well, up until Wu starts singing, and then his second-hand embarrassment seems more intense than the others, who mostly just seem a little stunned, while Mako has his face buried in his hands). Also, the running gag of Grandma Yin being obsessed with royalty has it’s funny moments during his speech, but I really like it because the fact that Mako’s grandma is reverent, affectionate, AND outspoken with Wu would probably create an interesting in-law dynamic, right? Also, during his song, the tosses his hat out to the crowd which Yin catches like a single lady catching the bridal bouquet, and says “You’ll always be my King!” I like to imagine that she now wears his hat everywhere, along with Mako’s scarf. I know I’m reaching but Yin wearing both their accessories is another Wuko moment in my mind.

Let’s also talk about Wu fainting. After his panic-singing, Zhu Li quickly takes over and Wu steps back and dramatically faints, saying “Wu down”- right into Mako’s arms. Why into Mako’s arms? Did he step back and strategically aim himself at Mako? Technically the closest person to him was Varrick. So he had to stagger back diagonally and fall back toward Mako on purpose. Did Mako catch him with lightning-fast reflexes? Korra was also right there and she’s the Avatar, you’d think she’d react quicker than Mako. Nope. The best explanation is that Wu for sure was intentionally falling into Mako’s arms, and Mako’s ‘protect Wu’ instincts kicked in faster than anyone else's because.. Well. You ship Wuko. You know what I'm saying. <3

During the conversation in Zhu Li’s office, once again, visually Mako and Wu are parallel to Korra and Asami. They are sitting next to each other on a couch opposite Korra and Asami. However, there is this one moment where Mako is NOT HAVING IT with Wu. When Wu asks the Krew to join him, Mako is like, why? For show? No way. He says “We’re not your entourage, Wu.” Honestly that was kinda mean of him to say. I’m not sure what to make of it other than Mako is suddenly grumpy because his brother (who was visibly offended by Mako lamp-shading his career-hopping) snatched away a tray of cupcakes a moment before. Still, Wu is quick to reassure him that it’s not like that at all, and delivers the news of Guan and quickly makes a case that it’s the practical thing to do considering the political climate. Mako immediately agrees after that, and quickly flips his script to “we’ll keep you safe”. And Wu’s triple “yes” response with an excited fist in the air is enough of a Wuko moment for me.

When they leave Zhu Li’s office, yet another visual Korrasami/Wuko parallel. Korra and Asami are in the back holding hands, and Mako and Wu are in the front with Wu’s arm draped around Mako’s shoulders. Wu is very happy that Mako is coming along. Says they should get a smoothie to celebrate, and it’ll be just like old times! I’m sure Wu missed Mako. Mako doesn’t seem quite as thrilled but at this point it's really just Mako’s face. He just always looks like that. Who knows what he’s thinking inside.

What this means for Wuko

So if you are writing some fanfic or just coming up with headcanons with the comics in mind, there is a lot of material to work with right away. They are in close proximity for most of their scenes. Wu is accepted by the Krew, and he is buddy-buddy enough with Korra to presume he’s probably been talking to her outside of the scenes depicted in the comics. So there’s some potential for wingman or matchmaker Korra, or at the very least she will be happy and supportive of them getting together since she has warmed up to Wu a lot. Both Mako and Wu have matured enough that a healthy relationship is within reach. Wu clearly has affection toward Mako, and Mako still has that protective instinct toward Wu, even if he looks like he’s not having a great time (But like I said, he looks like that all the time, so I'm pretty sure he just has resting bitch face).

So that is about the halfway point of book 1. The next post I will talk about the second half of book 1. Some things to look forward to: a sauna scene, Mako, Bolin and Wu giving Kuvira the Bitchiest collective look ever, and Wu casually telling Mako that he loves him.

Wuko in Turf War

Wuko in RotE part 2

[lassieposting]

ghasdug for couple questions if you like feeding me

1. Who said I love you first?

Ghastly. Mid-orgasm. The first time they slept together. He. Is. Mortified.

2. Who laughs and kisses their partner on the cheek while their partner isn’t happy about something trivial to try and make them feel better?

Skug. Ghastly has some inadequacy issues during their first century or so, mostly about being ugly and poor - he knows skug could do better. He's attractive, he's funny, he can be very sweet when he wants to be - he could make an excellent match with someone as landed and titled and wealthy as he is.

Skug does try to reassure him, but between his tactlessness and his tendency to not take anything seriously, he kind of sucks at it. Ghastly feels like his being "less than" is a big hurdle, while skug sees it as a trivial difference - he's much happier living with ghastly's family in their cramped farmhouse than he ever was at his parents' vast estate. So he tries to turn it into a joke - "good thing I'm handsome enough for both of us, then," - while completely missing the point that ghastly wants forever with him, and he's worried he's going to spend the rest of forever getting looked down on and whispered about because skulduggery could've done better.

3. Who cuddles up to the other after a long day at work, and this soon escalates to a playful pillow fight?

Ghastly is the cuddler. It escalates because skug is adhd as hell and cannot just lie still and snuggle for long without getting bored. He needs constant stimulation. He'll sit on the counter while ghastly works and chat for hours though, swinging his legs and passing over tools when ghastly needs them

4. What is something that they gave one another that has a lot of meaning?

Ghastly makes all skug's clothes, including his armour, because he doesn't trust anyone else to keep skug safe in battle.

Ghastly has skug's signet ring, which he found in the burned down-ruins of the pleasant family home after skug was killed. For decades, it's the only thing he had left of skug - the clothes ghastly made, the scarf wifey made, and the locket with wifey and skugbab's portraits inside were all cut away and burned, and the house was razed to the ground. Skug knows he has it, but he's never asked for it back.

5. How would one another describe their partner?

Skug would either deliberately misread the question ("What, haven't you seen him? How could you miss ghastly? He's...he's this high and built like a wall.") or come out with something explicit to deter follow-up questions.

Ghastly mostly talks about how annoying skug is, but it's? Endearing to him. At this stage of their lives, he is the only person who's actually happy to listen to like, an eight hour infodump with no breaks. Skug is. A Lot to handle and society does not have the terminology for him yet.

6. Who wraps their arms around their partner as they look them in the eyes and compliments them with a goofy smile?

Ghastly. Skug, under all the vanity and egocentrism, has critically low self-esteem and very little self-worth. He's the Family Scapegoat, and got the lion's share of the abuse before he ran away, so he absolutely melts for compliments. The boy has praise kink up the wazoo. Ghastly will happily feed his ego to watch him get the smile and the sparkly eyes and puff up like a proud peacock.

7. Who loves saying ‘my wife’ or ‘my husband’ or ‘my spouse’?

They don't really have this tbh? Not only is the vocabulary of the period insufficient, they see the relationship differently.

Skug is like. Anxious-avoidant attachment personified. He doesn't like to get too close. He falls in love with ghastly a long time before he's able to admit it to himself, let alone anyone else. He essentially treats their relationship like a fuckbuddies kind of deal, and he feels safe like that, because he can't be hurt by someone he doesn't care about. He can't be let down or abandoned by someone who has no commitment to him in the first place. Admitting he loves ghastly leaves him vulnerable, and if he's learned anything in his childhood, its that vulnerable people are the ones who get hurt.

Ghastly on the other hand considers skug his boyfriend, and there's no equivalent term from the 1500s. "Gentleman caller" hardly applies when you live under the same roof and share a room (and, more often than not, a bed), so nobody is calling on anyone. Privately, he thinks of skug as his lover, but he knows skug is allergic to intimacy, so he keeps that to himself for the most part.

So ghastly usually introduces skug as "this is my - this is skulduggery pleasant" and skug usually introduces ghastly as "this is my dear friend, ghastly".

8. Who always talks about how amazing their partner is when their partner isn’t there and they just light up with genuine love and happiness?

Ghastly. Skug is his first love, and he's completely lost in it. He's had crushes before, on pretty girls who only ever spoke to him to enquire after his "handsome brother", and strapping young men at market who avoided looking at him to speak to his father, but he's never felt anything like this before. He lives with skug. He sees him first thing in the morning and last thing at night, he sees him happy and depressed and drunk and furious, he kisses him and fights with him and fucks him and defends him and laughs with him and cries with him and for years and years, they're inseparable. He's? Completely unprepared for how hard he falls for skug.

9. Who loves it when their partner kisses them good morning?

Ghastly. Drowsy morning skug is snuggliest skug. He doesn't get as many snuggles as he'd like, tbh, because skug is active and easily distracted and doesn't like staying still for too long, but in the early morning is when he's most likely to be warm and cuddly and relaxed, and when he's least concerned about keeping ghastly at arms length. He'll pull skug back against his chest and he'll wiggle round to press a sleepy kiss to the corner of ghastly's mouth and tuck his head under ghastly's chin, and he'll doze off again with his hand stroking idly up and down skug's spine.

10. Who shows the other how to balance a spoon on their nose?

Ghastly.

11. Who loves to pull pranks on the other? What type of pranks do they pull and do they pull their pranks off?

Skug likes to pick up the absolute ugliest thing he can find while shopping and pretend he loves it while ghastly cringes and swears blind that he will not be seen with you while you're wearing that thing, skulduggery, so help him god. What usually happens is that skug pulls his new purchase to pieces as soon as they get home, and then gets ghastly to make it up better.

12. What is something small that they would randomly pick up for one another?

Skug taught ghastly to read, so he'd bring home books for him while he was learning and get ghastly to read to him, lying with his head in ghastly's lap and lazily correcting his pronunciation or reminding him how to sound out the words.

Ghastly doesn't have the sort of disposable income skug does, so he makes him things instead, like stylish hats with feathers in them, even though he personally hates that fashion and is delighted when it dies.

13. Who is the one who can’t stop laughing when trying to tell a joke?

Skug. Ghastly loves watching him laugh till he chokes though. He adores seeing skug happy.

14. Who would plan the other a surprise birthday party?

Ghastly. Skug is an attention whore, he loves that kind of thing. An entire event all for him? Hell yes, baby

Ghastly himself, on the other hand, is painfully insecure and selfconscious at this stage of his life, and he'd be mortified at being the centre of attention like that. Skug is a vain, arrogant dick, but he's not cruel. He wouldn't make ghastly feel bad for funsies.

15. Who picks the other person up when hugging their partner?

Ghastly picks skug up. There's not much of a height difference between them, just two inches, but teenage skug is a lanky little twink and ghastly could benchpress him, which skug is rabidly horny over. Because, you know, muscles.

Once they join the army and skug fills out and gets all lean and fit and strong, ghastly can still pick him up, but he absolutely complains that he weighs a ton now.

Adult skug can lift/mostly carry ghastly in an emergency, like if he's injured and needs to be helped back to camp or carried off a battlefield. But it's difficult, and ghastly is really too heavy for him, so picking him up isn't something he'd do for fun. Teenage skug can't pick ghastly up at all.

[a-gromova]

Berlin long-post

Guys, this will be a very long post. VERY. Perhaps it will be something like an essay.

For the first time in many years, I can clearly say what level I like in the game (I can just as clearly name my favorite location only in the first season). Yes, I want to talk about Berlin (are there people who were left indifferent to the level?). I just want to express my thoughts, which came to my mind during the walkthrough. This is partly an attempt to piece together a puzzle of information about the characters (47, Grey, Olivia, Diana), which is diluted with screenshots. I would be glad if you read it and express your opinion. Maybe you will correct me or, on the contrary, supplement my words, because the stream of thoughts can take me completely in the wrong place.

Spoiler territory begins, so be careful. Well, in general, everything is the same as always: if you are too lazy to read, you can look at dicks pics, they are pretty good (I think).

For me, Berlin is Hieronymus Bosch in its purest form. The level is disgusting inside and out (and I say this in a positive way). This include the oppressive atmosphere of emptiness, the behavior of agents, dialogues, the very environment of the club. It's all so nauseous, so... unnecessary. But it attracts. Bosch. Bosch in its purest form. This captivates me. This is the dirt you want to plunge into.

We begin the level in a ringing void, in which the beating of the heart is heard like a bell. I still haven't decided for myself whether it's a heart beating of 47 or not, but MY heart seemed to be beating in unison with it. And as soon as the club appears on the horizon, the beat of the heart flows into a musical beat. It's great. I don't know about you, but I'm delighted.

During the first walkthrough I immediately wondered: who killed this poor fellow? And now it seems to me that it was Olivia. Especially when you consider that the corpse is close to the gas station and in the phone conversation she, shivering, reports that she SEEMS to have killed one of the agents. Why ''SEEMS''? Because, obviously, the injury was non-lethal. We can ''read'' it on the corpse: the knife is stuck in the left shoulder. Sloppy, as if in a rush /chase. The injury is not lethal, but the guy had a hard time. Perhaps he died of blood loss much later.

I was obsessed with an idea that we need to find targets ourselves. Previously Diana did it for us, but "she can't help us now". First, I was confused. But later my mood was like ''HOW COOL IT IS''. I don't know why some ppl consider ICA agents as not remarkable. Guys, c'mon, I didn't even immediately realize that there are more than 5 of them, and they are all different! Each has its own position, undercover role, manner of speech. The agents are amazingly described, and for me they stand in the same rate with Tamara Vidal now (an insanely smart and interesting woman).

Have you ever seen Montgomery??? It's just FDIFSDJFKJFDKFLDKFLJSL. Such a DICK. Too bad 47 just kicked the table. It could be a way better if 47 low the table on agent's head and jump on the top of it. Smth like a control shot jump. Such a disgusting character... I hope that he just compensates his small penis with his speeches, because I just wanted to break his face for what he'd say.

I think you've already understand what exactly pissed me off in his speech. Yeah, the mention of Grey.

Aaaaand let's smoothly move on to this. Now I want to step back a little from the discussion of Berlin itself and say something to everyone who had a hard time going through the scene after Dartmoor. Yes, Lucas was my light, my sunshine and my motivation to play over the past years. Yes, his death was a shock (such a shock that I said "fuck" and turned off the game after 47 appears near the gas station). But I do not like being sad for a long time. Like... SAD.

Listen. Listen. It would be bad if after death the character disappeared from everywhere forever. THAT would be crap. It would be bad if there was not a single mention of him in the game after his death. But... Berlin, Mendoza, that fcking train. We learn A LOT of information about Grey here, which complements his portrait. C'mon! Chechnya, guard's and agent's whispering. Yes, damn it, they are afraid of him. If 47 is a legend, almost a myth, then Grey seems to be the real incarnation of the devil for them. I repeat, they are afraid of him. Otherwise I don’t know why a huge well-armed group was send to capture him (which walks on the train in sapper armor). I just listened to all these dialogues with a malicious smile and was like hehehe dats mah boiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

After all, the character is still in the fandom, the fandom has no end, everyone in it is alive and happy. So, Lucas, lie down, do not twitch, and I will bring hydrogen peroxide and a first aid kit.

If you don't call me the best psychologist after that, just don't talk to me ever again.There is so much shit in life, no need to be sad in such a good fandom. Just DON'T.

Let's return to Berlin. Or rather to Rolf, the owner of the club. From the dialogues we understand that he knew Grey for a long time. At first I even thought that it was Rolf who gave 47 and Grey motorcycles. These ones:

But then I quickly realized that I had problems with geography, and there was simply no point in bringing bikes from Germany to England. By the way, an interesting point: in my mind bike doesn't fit 47. Any expensive and stylish car - yes. Lucas is the opposite. The bike fits him, but the car is not.

I don't know what kind of "business" they had there. But if you consider that Grey already had experience working with the Delgado's drug cartel (and Rolf, for a moment, has a cocaine warehouse in a club), this "business" could be is somewhat similar to a mutually beneficial partnership with Rico.

And the very dialogue between Montgomery and Rolf hints us what could have happened if the one man didn't die, you know. And that's cool too. "To help him and two friends out to... well, slip away". As I understand it, this is about the so-called "Team Grey" (Lucas, 47, Olivia). And after Dartmoor everyone was supposed to meet in the safehouse in Berlin. It was an ideal plan, if the Constant hadn't found Diana and Grey. The only question is what would they do next. Planning to capture Edwards again, based on the dossier we've took from Carlisle?

Hell, I love IO because they leave a huge part of the plot just in the dialogues, which makes the game extremely replayable. And every time you pass a level you just oh. OH! This allows players make their own guesses and put the puzzle together. Not to mention the little things that are just scattered around the location. At first I THOUGHT I saw Florida Man. Then I realized that it is not my imagination. This guy is generally the best flexer:

I will end the essay with a comparison of 47 and the club logo. 

I love that the mission is called "Apex Predator" and the bikers' emblem bears Fenrir, an alpha predator from north myths that devours the sun. It is he who begins Ragnarok - the end of the world. It seems to me that this is a direct allegory to 47. It is in Berlin that his bloody procession begins, which puts an end to this story. But damn it, how nice to watch this end of the world.

That's it, I've already said a lot. Let me summarize briefly: 47 - alpha predator Lucas - lie down and don't move, I'm already going with a first aid kit Olivia - keep it up Diana - queen Montgomery - dick

[raitrolling]

Present Day, Present Time

[Easy Reading Version on Toyhou.se]

-- alluringMisdirection [AM] began trolling autonomousMachinations [AM] --

AM: Oh shlt slnce when was lt your bday??

AM: All g tho, l got a place ln mlnd ;)

AM: Obvlously lt’s gonna be a secret, so don’t even bother asklng! Surprlse partles are the best partles, y’know. And lt’s gotta be good for the blg 1-0!

AM: So you better get hype- or, as hype as whatever’s posslble for you 8)

-- alluringMisdirection [AM] ceased trolling autonomousMachinations [AM] --

Callan stood in the homewares section of one of Block 136’s many low-end department stores, hands on his hips and tapping his foot in mild irritation. Predictably, he’d be caught off-guard by Gerrel’s mentioning of his wriggling day coming up. He didn’t forget, of course, he just- Wait, did Gerrel ever mention it before? They’ve known each other for a while and Callan had definitely made him put his wriggling day into his stupidly busy schedule, but he legitimately cannot recall if the redblood had brought up his own before. Huh. Well, whatever, Callan’s going to say that’s Gerrel’s problem to work out, because right now he’s got his own problem. What the hell kind of present does someone with no hobbies want? Most of the time when it comes to presents, Callan would simply grab whatever silly novelty he could find in the clearance sections - A hat with a funny saying on it, some desktop USB gadget, all those stocking stuffer toys made specifically for office 12th Perigees party gifts, the impulse buy bottle openers and fidget spinners at the registers, - it didn’t matter what the gift was, if it was a gift from him then clearly it was the most important! But this time it’s different. It’s not just a gift for someone’s 10th wriggling day, but the wriggling day of someone who it wouldn’t be inaccurate to call Callan’s best friend (who would’ve thought? Of all people!). A real pro at gift-giving too, the photo book he gave last Quadrants’ Day had touched Callan’s heart far greater than any novelty chocolate or humorous greeting card ever could. So now he’s obligated to be thoughtful. Ugh, thinking.

He acknowledges that the logical gift would be something practical, Gerrel does seem to like things that are useful and would make him more productive. With how much he goes on about ‘healthy eating’ and ‘cooking your own meals’, he’d probably be over the moon if he unwrapped one of those air fryer things people keep talking about. But as Callan stared the boxes of kitchen appliances down, he couldn’t help but think one thing...

An air fryer is fucking boring.

Yes, sure, it’s the perfect gift for someone like him. He’d appreciate it! He’d appreciate it a lot more than the corner store chocolates he received from the greenblood for Quadrants’ Day, or the reindeer antler hat from 12th Perigees. He’d probably get a lot of use out of it too, if what the recipe books conveniently placed next to the display says is true. You can cook chicken, vegetables, brownies and muffins, fish and chips, mozzarella sticks… But, it may be a gift from Callan, but it’s not a gift from Callan. There’s no pizzaz, no style, nothing that screams “This is a gift from the one and only Callan Ranpoe, the best troll you’ve ever known! Accept no substitutes!''. It’s a gift someone would buy for a hivewarming party, or something his rich boss would slip in with the weekly wages just to remind everyone of how much money he has. Not a gift from someone known for their sense of humour and great taste in, well, everything.

Callan’s train of thought is interrupted by an employee asking if he needs a hand. Some tired-looking brownblood who knows that if they don’t ask every customer who has spent more than thirty seconds standing on one spot this question their boss will have them thrown out on the streets. He dismisses the employee with a wave of his hand, who only responds by parroting that the tea towels and oven mitts have a two-for-one deal tonight only.

Two-for-one… That’s it! Cheap and more fun than some boring appliance!

Not wanting to make it seem like he was inspired by the employee’s suggestion, Callan continues to mull about the appliances section pretending to be interested in the breadmakers and slow cookers before stealthily slipping over to the kitchen accessories section. Sure enough, the tea towels and oven mitts are already looking more to the greenblood’s liking. There’s the towels with funny cooking-related puns (Haha, “Let’s give them something to taco ‘bout”! It’s funny because it’s got tacos on it!), towels covered in cute animal prints (and a very un-cute one covered in horses. Sorry Gerrel, but you truly have the worst lusus), and towels covered in sayings one would find on a Facebook Minions group (which unfortunately, would probably appeal to the redblood’s sense of humour more than anything else…). There’s oven mitts shaped like crab claws and dinosaur heads, some pop culture-themed mitts with references that’d definitely fly over his head, and one that just says the word ‘butter’ repeated on every inch of the fabric. Callan starts picking a couple off the rack, already congratulating himself on his head about how genius this gift is.

But… As he stares down at the dinosaur oven mitt and the tea towels with food puns, the gift still didn’t feel right. There should probably be something… More? To this? If the last present idea was thoughtful but lacks ‘Callan vibes’, then this idea is more Him but less thoughtful or really, wanted. Who wants tea towels for their wriggling day? That’s like giving someone socks and underwear. Callan sighs, dumping the chosen items onto the shelf below instead of hanging them back onto the rack. Putting in the effort for a perfect gift sucks.

Why is this so important? Why does a gift need to be thoughtful, personal, and most importantly, something that would make him think of Callan every time? Maybe it’s to make every moment as memorable as possible to combat the reality that all of Callan’s relationships are fleeting at best. Gerrel seems to be able to recognise him through his psiionics, most likely because altering one’s voice, speech patterns, and quirks in their posture and body language are difficult without specific training that Callan doesn’t have. But a friendship cannot be perpetuated on vaguely familiar quirks alone. What if one night Callan decides he wants to cut his hair? Change the way he dresses- hell, just happens to wear a waistcoat with his symbol printed on the opposite side? Doesn’t tie the bow around his neck correctly? Gerrel would fail to recognise him, and they’d be back at square one. And that’s not to mention the major elephant in the room being Callan’s stints as the prolific Phantom Thief. That wouldn’t be something he could just shrug off and accept, especially when his boss has been one of the thief’s major targets. He doesn’t come across as someone who would be angry to find out about this secret, but… He’s very honest and loyal. It would make sense for him to dob Callan into his boss, someone who values working as much as he does would definitely put his own job over anything else.

But then again… He’s selfless, in that way that makes Callan almost feel bad at letting him take over all the chores in his hive when he probably could do them himself if he could be bothered. Almost. Thank god he doesn’t have to wash dishes any more, and the food Gerrel cooks is way better than anything he could ever make even if he put his mind to it. So maybe he wouldn’t do that. Of course he wouldn’t do that! Even if it doesn’t last, he’s Callan’s friend now. And maybe they might continue to be friends, and- If the greenblood’s ego allows it- Gerrel could learn the truth of his psiionics, and try to work with it. Just as he works with every other eccentricity that makes up Callan’s personality.

… Nothing in this long moment of introspection has given him any more ideas for the perfect 10th wriggling day gift. Goddammit. 

The brownblood continues floating around the aisles, keeping an eye on Callan in the way one would monitor a known shoplifter or rowdy group of teenagers. Now’s probably the best chance to get that advice they’re paid to give out.

“Hey,” Callan addresses the employee with a nod, “Got any ideas for a 10th wriggling day gift? I need one for a guy who’s into like, cooking and shit. Practical, but fun, y’know?”

The brownblood silently casts their eyes over to the appliances, and settles on the most expensive item they can spot.

“Air fryer.”

Of course.

Once again, we’re back to square one. This is going to take more than an hour’s worth of thinking, which is well more than Callan has ever done in his life. But, that’s fine. He’s got time, and it’s for someone worth spending time on. And there’s still the entirety of the department store to meander about like what everyone else does at this time of night. Maybe he could look into finding some outfits so Gerrel can be at least half as stylish as him, maybe some instructional books on building projects that would normally bore Callan to death because they lack funny pictures, maybe some crafts to make something (he can paint a mean self-portrait, so a portrait of someone else wouldn’t be that much more difficult)...

Now, if only Gerrel didn’t steal his other non-kitchen appliance idea of putting together a photo book already, that could’ve been perfect. Who wouldn’t want their own collection of Official Callan selfies?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took another couple hours and some trips to a few nearby shops, but finally the search for the perfect present was over. Callan stood at the kitchen table, putting together the finishing touches on the now-wrapped gift’s presentation. The homewares idea was thrown out the window in favour of something just as practical, but in a way that feels more personal. A blazer sits folded on the table (Callan made sure to not unfold it after the cashier slipped it into the shopping bag, there’s no way he’d ever be able to get it right), in a similar style to the one usually worn by Gerrel albeit with gold buttons and a green trim on the collar and cuffs. A voucher to get his symbol printed on the jacket has also been slipped into the breast pocket. It felt right to give something with his hue, it’s a common sign of friendship between a higherblood and a lowblood. He may not have a particularly intimidating shade of blue or purple, but it’s still an indication of protecting a friend. And, it’s something picked out by Callan himself so clearly it’s peak fashion.

There was an attempt at tying up the gift in a bow - one of the spare green neckties identical to the one he wore, to be precise - but there was certainly little effort into making it look perfect. The bow was uneven and sat nowhere close to the centre, and Callan couldn’t figure out how to do that fancy criss-cross tie most presents are wrapped in. Not that the presentation mattered to him, and he’s sure that’s the level of effort Gerrel would expect from him. He probably doesn’t expect much from the greenblood, honestly, so perhaps this modicum of effort will make this gift even more special. 

[carewyncromwell]

Vhat’s this? Some canon content?? GASP. (Don’t worry, the next part of the POTC AU is in the works, I promise, I just have to finish writing out all the text XD;;;)

But uh, yeah! This is Duncan Ashe with my MC Carewyn Cromwell, though Care-Bear really doesn’t look like herself right now. That’s because this is directly post-Redacted.

After what happened in the Portrait Vault, Carewyn made the decision that she would not follow Rakepick’s example anymore by taking the entire burden of the Cursed Vaults completely on her shoulders and -- by extension -- lying to all of her friends that she was no longer interested in the Vaults so as to make sure none of them would try to help or stop her. This way (she thought) she could ensure that none of them would get hurt because of her again, like Merula did.

Unfortunately her friends really didn’t cooperate with this plan. Soon enough they started to get suspicious about how much Carewyn was hiding from them -- Charlie in particular got into a very heated argument with Carewyn after hearing about the “wizard in white” who was supposedly after her and Merula that Carewyn refused to tell them about, which ended up getting worse when Ben tried to “defend” Carewyn by attacking Charlie with Langlock and the two Gryffindors got into a huge physical confrontation that Carewyn had to break up. Ben, of course, refused to let Carewyn do anything on her own and so when he and Merula caught wind she was going to the Forest alone, they collided with her en route and refused to let her go without them. This, of course, led to the “Redacted” event where Rakepick killed Rowan.

As soon as it happened, Carewyn lost her mind. For long, horrible, stretching minutes all she could do was scream and grab onto Rowan, even physically and verbally lashing out at Ben and Merula with pure, undiluted spite and pain if they tried to get close. Then, by the time they reached the castle, Carewyn went completely silent. In the days and weeks that followed, Carewyn became a shadow of her former self.

To quote a previous post:

“This girl who is usually known for being an eternally composed, strong, witty, brave fashionista Mama Bear will, quite simply, disappear. No more stylish hair – no more polished make-up – no more pretty outfits…and worst of all, she will glide the halls like a ghost, unable to eat or say a word to anyone, and disappearing for long periods of time. The silence will be deafening. She cannot comfort others. She cannot reassure, encourage, nurture, or counsel her friends. She cannot sing. She cannot answer any of her friends’ or teachers’ questions or address their concerns. She cannot even cry. Her eyes are broken, empty, and devoid of light or hope.

“This goes on for weeks, with Carewyn disappearing more and more often…until one day, she is gone for a full 24 hours. Her friends panic, thinking that she might have run away or otherwise hurt herself, and tear the whole school apart looking for her. Bill will even put his most recent Cursebreaking assignment on hold to come back to Hogwarts to look for his friend. It’s when he arrives that Bill asks Duncan Ashe to help them look for Carewyn – and it is Duncan that finds Carewyn, huddled up alone in a dark closet inside the Astronomy Tower.

“Duncan tries to shake Carewyn back to her senses, but nothing he says gets through to her. Nothing he says can make her speak to him. Nothing he says can bring any life to her eyes. It’s so bad that Duncan – after what feels like an eternity of scolding, yelling, and appealing to Carewyn – falls apart and bursts into tears.”

This is what’s pictured here -- Duncan finally breaking down.

“What do I have to do, Carewyn!? Do you want me to grovel, is that it?! You want me to beg?! You heartless feck, TALK to me, damn it! Say something! Anything! Insult me, scream at me, curse me to Hell -- tell me to go away, if you want, I don’t care, just ANSWER ME! Just show me that you -- that you’re -- ”

Duncan’s voice seemed to get stuck in his throat. He choked -- he felt the clutching of his chest and noticed the blurring of his vision that came with crying, and yet he never felt the bubbling tears streaming from his eyes down his translucent face. He tried to blink them away, tried to look for any shred of awareness or consciousness in Carewyn’s face -- but she still never raised her head. Her cheeks were sickly, ghostly pale. Her dark, hollowed, bag-trimmed eyes were devoid of light.

Duncan recognized the emotion, or lack thereof -- and it scared him more than anything ever had. 

“Carewyn -- don’t -- don’t you dare! You...can’t...”

His head seemed to shake back and forth of its own accord. He reached out, wanting to comfort -- but he knew it was no use. Even if he could focus enough to not pass right through her, he couldn’t actually hold her hand, even if he wanted to.

Duncan had always wondered if he was really right to think that Jacob didn’t care that he was dead. Part of him always thought that he’d projected that lack of caring on Jacob all those years, simply because he hadn’t ever returned to Hogwarts, or Duncan hadn’t ever heard about how much he grieved...or...perhaps because Duncan himself thought he didn’t deserve being grieved, in the first place...

But this...if Jacob had been like this -- like his sister now -- devoid of light or hope...or even self-preservation...

Jacob’s sister wanted to die. The thing Jacob cherished more than his own life, that he spoke of with pure love in his face, that he always held up as his reason to keep fighting when things were their scariest -- the girl who Duncan himself had grown to care about, after she’d taken so much of her own time to make sure he didn’t feel all alone and to make some of his days just that little bit better...to make him feel, at least once in a while, that someone did mourn the fact he was no longer alive --

She wanted to die.

Duncan felt his heart breaking as he stared at Carewyn, unable to hold back his sobs.

“...Please...please...”

To continue the quoted summary,

“It’s only then that Carewyn finally opens her mouth and speaks. She puts her hand down inside Duncan’s own translucent hand as if trying to hold it and asks if he can feel anything. Duncan cries even harder, yelling furiously – even after everything that had happened and everything he’d said, all Carewyn can do was worry about everyone else! And it’s then that the truth finally comes out – Carewyn doesn’t see herself as someone worthy of love and caring. She’s vanished because she doesn’t see her life as something worth protecting, or her pain worth healing. She doesn’t deserve her friends’ or the staff’s concern. She doesn’t deserve their comfort or sympathy. She ‘deserves’ to be alone, and in pain, and hated, for what happened to Rowan. She ‘knows’ it would be better for everyone if she simply…vanished.

“Eventually, however, Duncan smashes through Carewyn’s self-loathing and suicidal thoughts. Maybe she doesn’t think she deserves to be loved…but she is loved all the same…by choices made by the people around her. They are the ones who can determine how they see Carewyn – not her. They’re the ones who are owed a choice in whether or not they accept Carewyn for everything she is.

“At last, Carewyn comes down from the Astronomy Tower. She collides with Bill, Charlie, Ben and Merula at the bottom of the stairs. The three Gryffindor boys all dash forward, throwing their arms around Carewyn and latching onto her like they’re never going to let her go again. There is an intense exchange – but when Carewyn finally breaks down into tears and admits that she needs help, her friends decide to stand by her, even despite the many mistakes she’s made. And from there…very slowly…the healing begins.”

[addictedtoeddie]

The full Esquire Spain interview translated from Spanish:  

Eddie Redmayne trial: guilty of being the most talented (and stylish) actor of his generation

The Oscar winner talks about what it means to premiere a film with Aaron Sorkin (The Chicago 7th Trial on Netflix) and filming the new part of the most famous saga of all time under the watchful eye of its author, J.K. Rowling.

By Alba Díaz (text) / JUANKR (photos and video) / Álvaro de Juan (styling) 10/23/2020  

At the Kettle’s Yard Gallery in Cambridge, stands alone and leaning on a piano Prometheus, a marble head made by Constantin Brâncusi, and the only piece of art that Eddie Redmayne (London, 1982) would save from possible massive destruction. He tells me about it as he leaves the filming set of the third installment of Fantastic Beasts in the early days of an autumn that, we suspect, we will never forget. It begins to get dark as the actor nods seriously: "I promise to do my best in this interview."

Eddie Redmayne made himself in the theater despite some voices warning him that he could not survive in it. "Many people were in charge to tell me that it would never work, that only extraordinary cases make it and that I would not be able to live from this professionally." Even his father came home one day with a list of statistics on unemployed young actors. Redmayne, who is extremely modest, polite and funny, adds: “But I enjoyed theater so much that I got to the point of thinking that if I could only do one play a year for the rest of my life… I would do it. And that would fill me completely.

Spoiler: since then until today he has participated in many more. He set his first foot in the industry when he debuted at the Shakespeare’s Globe Theater and won over critics and audiences. He then landed his first major role in My Week with Marilyn opposite Michelle Williams. And then came one of the roles of his life, the character he wanted to become an actor for, Marius. With him he sang, led a revolution and broke Cosette's heart in Les Miserables. “I found out about the Les Misérables auditions when I was shooting a movie in Illinois. Dressed like a cowboy. I picked up the iPhone and videotaped myself singing the Marius song. I always wanted to be him ”.

Now Redmayne is an Oscar winner - thanks to his portrayal of Stephen Hawking in The Theory of Everything - and the protagonist of one of the most important sagas in history, Fantastic Beasts. He plays the magizoologist Newt Scamander in it. When I ask him what it means to him to be the protagonist of a magical world that is so important to millions of people, Eddie sighs and takes a few seconds to answer. “I have always loved the Harry Potter universe. Some people like The Lord of the Rings or Star Wars ... But, for me, the idea that there is a magical world that happens right in front of you, that happens without going any further on the streets of London, that. .. That exploded my imagination in another way.

During the quarantine, J. K. Rowling, who has been in charge of the script of the film, sparked a controversy through a series of tweets about transgender women. Redmayne assures that he does not agree with these statements but that it does not approve of the attacks of some people through social networks. The actor was one of the first to position himself against Rowling alongside Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson and other protagonists of her films. "Trans women are women, trans men are men, and non-binary identities are valid."

After having spent a while talking, Redmayne confesses to me that he has never been a big dreamer not to maintain certain aspirations that ended up disappointing him. So he has always kept a handful of dreams to himself. One of them was fulfilled just a few weeks ago with the premiere of The Trial of the Chicago 7, a film written and directed by Aaron Sorkin that can already be seen on Netflix and in some - few - cinemas. “I was on vacation with my wife in Morocco and the script arrived. I think I called my agent before I even read it and said yes, I would. She probably thought the obvious, that I'm stupid. After that, of course I read the script, which is about a specific moment in history that I knew very little about. I found it exciting and a very relevant drama in today's times. "

And it is that having a script by Aaron Sorkin in your hands is no small thing. Eddie Redmayne has been a fan of his work ever since he saw The West Wing of the White House. “His scripts have delicious language and dialogue. As an actor, it's fun to play characters that are much smarter than you are in real life. That virtuosity is hard to come by. I really hope that audiences enjoy this movie and feel that there is always hope. " He remembers that since he released The Theory of Everything he has recorded, to a large extent, English period dramas, “and although the new Aaron Sorkin is not strictly contemporary,” says Redmayne, “to be able to wear jeans and shirts and sweaters instead of so much tweed is great ”.

Besides acting, art was the only thing the actor was interested in, so he ended up studying Art History at Cambridge University. “My parents are quite traditional and when I told them I wanted to act they gave me free rein but on the condition that I study a career. And I'm very grateful for that because ... Look, beyond that, when I play a real character I usually go to the National Portrait Gallery in London quite often. There I lock myself up. Now, for Sorkin's film, I went through a lot of photographs and videotapes. Art helps me to be more creative, to get into paper ”. If he were not an actor, he would be, he says decidedly, a historian or perhaps a curator. "Although I think he would be a very bad art curator."

Against all logic, Eddie Redmayne is color blind. But there is a color that you can distinguish anywhere and on any surface: klein blue. He wrote his thesis on the French artist Yves Klein and the only shade of blue he used in his works. He wrote up to 30,000 words talking about that color with which he became obsessed. “It is surprising that a color can be so emotional. One can only hope to achieve that intensity in acting. "

Like his taste for art, which encompasses the refined and compact, Redmayne seems to be in the same balance when it comes to the roles he chooses. When I ask him what aspects a character he wants to play should have, he takes a few seconds again before answering: “I wish I had a more ingenious answer but I will tell you that I know when my belly hurts. It's that feeling that I trust. In my mind I transport him to imagine myself playing that character. When I read a script I have to really enjoy it. You never fully regret those instincts. It's like when you connect with something emotionally. "

So we come to the conclusion that all his characters have some traits in common. "You know what? I never look back, and this is something personal, but I do believe that there is a parallel between Marius in Les Misérables trying to be a revolutionary, someone who is quite prone to being distracted by love but at the same time is willing to die for his cause, and Tom Hayden from The Chicago Trial of the 7 who was a man who had integrity and was passionate and fought for the things he believed in. So I suppose there may also be similarities between a young Stephen Hawking and Newt Scamander. There are traits in common in all of them that I don't really know where they come from ”.

When we talk about the year we are living in, in which it is increasingly difficult to find hope, we both let out a nervous laugh. "There must be," Redmayne says. “There is something very nice that Tom Hayden, the character I play in Sorkin's film, said to his former wife, actress Jane Fonda, just the day before she passed away. He told her that watching people die for their beliefs changed his life forever. In that sense, I also think about what Kennedy Jr. wrote about how democracy is messy, tough and never easy ... As is believing in something to fight for. I look at history and how they were willing to live their lives with that integrity to change the world and I realize that somehow that spirit still remains with us. " We fell silent thinking about it. "There must be hope."

I tell him about my love for Nick Cave's blog, The Red Hand, and one of the posts that I have liked the most in recent weeks. In it, the singer affirms that his response to a crisis has always been to create, an impulse that has saved him many times. For Redmayne there are two activities that can silence noise: drawing and playing the piano. “When you play the piano your concentration is so consumed by trying to hit that note that you can't think of anything else. Similarly, when you draw something, the focus is between the paper and what you are trying to recreate ... There I try to calm my mind.

Before saying goodbye, I drop a question that I thought I knew the answer to, but failed. What work of art would you save from mass destruction? "How difficult! I could name my favorite artists but still couldn't choose a work. Only one piece? Let me think. I am very obsessed with Yves Klein, but I would stick with a work by Brancusi. There is a sculpture of him, a small head called Prometheus, in Cambridge's Kettle’s Yard, on a dark mahogany piano. The truth is that I find it very ... beautiful ”.

Before leaving, he confesses to me - with a childish and slow voice - that he would like to direct something one day. We said goodbye, saying that we will talk about his next project. Next, the first thing I do is open the Google search engine. "P-r-o-m-e-t-h-e-u-s". Although Eddie Redmayne has trouble distinguishing violet from blue, he doesn't have them when choosing a good piece. He's right, that work deserves to be saved.

* This article appears in the November 2020 issue of Esquire magazine

Source: esquire.com/es/actualidad/cine/a34434114/eddie-redmayne-juicio-7-chicago-netflix-entrevista/

[recentanimenews]

OPINION: WandaVision, SSSS.Gridman, and the Beautiful Prison of Nostalgia

  Just to warn folks: this article contains spoilers for WandaVision and SSSS.Gridman. 

  In 2021, in the middle of a pandemic and floundering movie theaters, the most discussed show of the year so far is Marvel's WandaVision. Fans and culture writers have been busy diving deep into what the show is about. Is WandaVision a successful portrait of the process of grief? Does it successfully humanize Wanda, a character who’s so far evaded the spotlight given to characters like Iron Man or Captain America? Is “what is grief but love persevering” a good or a bad line? Where was Mephisto in all this? Most difficult of all: in allowing Wanda some relief and kind words after she brainwashes an entire town into doing exactly what she says, does the show let her off the hook? 

  Listening to my friends and coworkers argue over this show over the past few weeks reminded me of one of my favorite anime of the past few years — a series that tackled themes of grief, nostalgia, and whether a monster can be redeemed. A series that predates WandaVision by three years and has a sequel coming out next month. That’s right, I’m talking about SSSS.Gridman!

    Like WandaVision, SSSS.Gridman is a show about a girl (Akane) who escapes to a bubble world when life becomes too much for her to bear. She uses special technology to manipulate people’s awareness, and through the power of a mysterious entity known as Alexis Kerib, summons giant monsters (kaiju) to murder those she doesn’t like. Our heroes, a trio of her classmates who join forces with the space cop Gridman to defeat the kaiju endangering their friends, eventually turn their attention to saving Akane, the “god” of their world, from herself. They do this over the course of 12 episodes and many exciting, well-choreographed battles.

  While Yuta (Gridman’s friend and partner) is technically the protagonist, Akane quickly steals the show as the most developed and layered character in the series. She’s capable of astonishing violence in the pursuit of her own happiness, but just as easily bruised when her plans fail and her creations turn against her. We see the moments when she regrets her actions, but also the moments where she makes terrible decisions despite knowing their costs. Just like Takeshi, the villain of SSSS.Gridman’s live-action predecessor, Akane is defined by weakness as much as strength. Even when her actions put other people at risk, they are driven as much by anxiety and fear as they are by hate.

    Just like with WandaVision, there was plenty of discussion as Gridman aired about whether or not Akane could be redeemed. Like Wanda, Akane has hurt and even killed many people. At times she even attempts to manipulate them. Yet at the end of the series, when she “opens the door” to Yuta and her friends and escapes Alexis Kerib’s influence, I was overjoyed. How could this be?

  Here’s my guess. Like WandaVision, Gridman isn’t just a show that attempts to humanize a villain. It is a show about nostalgia. As each episode of WandaVision is an obsessively detailed homage to American sitcoms, Gridman is a 12-episode love letter to live-action dramas and giant robot shows. Obscure alternate universe Transformers tie-ins, past episodes of Ultraman, Gridman scripts and guidebooks that were never produced — it’s all there, packed in not just by the dedicated staff but presumably through scriptwriter Keichi Hasegawa, himself a legendary Ultraman writer.

    Unlike Takeshi, Akane is a cool, stylish teenage girl. But deep down, she’s as much a geek as Takashi was, fiendishly dedicated to kaiju and robot shows. The kaiju she creates aren’t just a means by which she exerts control over the world, but an expression of her love. When Gridman destroys these kaiju to protect Yuta’s friends, Akane can’t help but take those losses personally. It’s not just the desecration of her favorite hobby. The failure of her creations is a consequence of her own lack of imagination. She can’t imagine any other way to manage her problems than to create a bubble world where everyone loves her.

  The trick of SSSS.Gridman is that while Yuta and his friends are the heroes, Akane is the true audience surrogate. How many of us also feel as though we are ostracized nerds with low self-esteem? How many use our favorite shows or games as an escape? In WandaVision, we see how Wanda watches sitcoms as a child as a way to cope with daily uncertainty. There’s nothing wrong with sitcoms; the creators of WandaVision clearly love them, having built such an elaborate homage to them. But if you spend the time watching sitcoms that you could be using to sleep or to eat (or, say, turning a town of people into a sitcom to avoid dealing with the death of your lover) then something will inevitably give.

  In Episode 9 of Gridman, Akane traps Yuta and his friends within their dreams in a last-ditch effort to turn them to her side. Each rejects her, choosing their responsibility to their friends rather than their god. At the end of the episode, we see that Akane, herself, is trapped in a dream. Despite holding unlimited power, all she can do is retreat further and further into a shell that she has built out of her own self-loathing. It is a shell that not even a superhero like Gridman can break. In the end, at the very last moment and with the help of her friends, Akane breaks it on her own.

    You could point at other similarities between WandaVision and what SSSS.Gridman did back in 2018, if you really wanted to. For instance, the way that both series (through Vision and Anti) approach the question of personhood and what it means to be a “monster” or a “robot.” You could parallel the efforts of Yuta, Rikka, and their friends to pull Akane out of her hole with the way Monica Rambeau becomes an empowered hero surrogate in WandaVision. If I would point at one way in which Gridman differs from WandaVision, it is how Gridman’s embrace of live-action superhero shows and giant robots better lends itself to a finale where human evil is punched into submission. By comparison, by the time Wanda starts throwing energy balls around in WandaVision, it jars with the sitcom homage and character study of earlier episodes.

  All things said, at the end of the day I prefer Ultraman and giant robots punching each other to Cheers and Marvel films. That’s not to say the latter is worse; it’s more a matter of personal taste. Either way, I’m glad that art continues to be made that grapples with the messy contradictions of human behavior. Though I’ll suggest: if you’re looking for genuinely challenging, ahead-of-its-time source material for a Marvel adaptation, X-Statix is right there!

  Did you watch WandaVision as it aired? Are you looking forward to SSSS DYNAZENON? Will we ever see an animated adaptation of Transformers: More Than Meets The Eye? Let us know in the comments!

    Adam W is a Features Writer at Crunchyroll. When he is not loudly shouting the praises of John Allison and Max Sarin's Giant Days, he sporadically contributes with a loose coalition of friends to a blog called Isn't it Electrifying? You can find him on Twitter at: @wendeego

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a feature, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: Adam Wescott

[darkestwolfx]

The Man From TB5 - Re-Review #46

Definitely another strong favourite today!

Let me take you back to one of Lady Penelope’s main episodes from TOS - ‘The Man From MI5′. Nice play on the title here. But, when we might have expected this to be a job for Gordon, it’s actually one for er- John?

P.S. Did you know O’Hagan and Aisling made a Thunderbirds Picture Storybook edition?

So yes, after all the asking, it’s John, and she is sticking with John. Gordon really must be gutted. This scene was absolutely golden as well.

“Did I hear party? Do you need a date? I could be there in no time! (Scott, let me borrow Thunderbird One).”

“Thank you Gordon, but I already have a date.”

“John?”

“No way! You actually got him to leave Thunderbird Five.”

“Mmmm...”

“He wanted it kept quiet.”

“But I’m the obvious choice! John hates social... anything. Besides, whose gonna’ do space monitor duty?”

“Funny you should mention that.”

“I had to ask.”

“Walked into that one!”

“And who do you think’s taking him up there?”

“Uhh... Ohhh.”

Also, I like the fact that Lady Penelope has a wildlife preserve.

Yes, the date is none other than John. Not a second of doubt that he can handle a ‘little’ social situation.

“Speaking of amazing how do you like that custom tuxedo I designed? Didn’t you notice all the cool hidden functions? Like the radio in your collar.”

“This isn’t a spy mission, Brains.”

I don’t know, John, you are with the UK’s top spy.

“It’s just a quiet, little charity auction.”

“I may haveunderstand the quiet part, a bit.”

“hAnd the little.”

Yeah, thanks for that Parker! So the only part she actually told him about correctly was that it’s a charity auction. Thankful for that radio now, John?

“John, are you alright?”

“I thought there’d be less this. People. Talking. In person. I mean communications is my job, I talk to people from all over the world, I’d just rather do it from space.”

I think John could be socially autistic.

Look at Sherbet though, sitting so happily on Penelope’s arm.

“Place like this his ha ‘ot-bed for pick pockets. hIn my day, this would ‘ave been ha gold mine.”

“No one will be picking anyone’s pockets tonight.”

“Not while hI’m hon watch duty, M’Lady.”

Definitely famous last words. Wait for it.

I love how one minute Lady Penelope is pulling John away from people and telling him who to talk to, and then the next just walks off and leaves him to fend for himself.

“Did I mention the cufflinks?”

“Will they make me invisible to crowds?”

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

Because you are not John who is currently very desperate to disappear from the face of the Earth.

Also, I love how Scott has a laptop. Obviously he’s doing Tracy Industry work today.

“What exactly do you do, Dear boy?”

And could you be any more patronising? I mean, go on, give it a try.

Did I see Kat in crowd as well?

And the focus on the food? It was spot on really. It’s the little things that help to make episodes like this. This episode had a great balance of humour and tense moments, with a brilliant rescue, a great appearance by The Hood and a very nice view of a different side to John.

With some absolutely brilliant moments by Parker. Only he and Sherbet could end up in a fight with kitchen staff in a Chateau kitchen at a party whilst he’s meant to be looking out for pick pockets.

“Wonderful party isn’t it?”

“’ey? ‘e’s cheered hup. No kitchen staff? Goood grief, hit’s-”

“You weren’t supposed to see that!”

“hIndeed. Now, drop that weapon, hor hI’ll be hobliged to serve you ha Parker ‘aymaker.”

And they actually showed more of the ‘fight’ than I expected them to. I mean, hitting someone’s head with multiple saucepans..? Because that’s PG.

“Welcome everyone, and- *Clatters* - And, they’re obviously preparing our very delicious desert.”

It’s a good thing she can talk her way out of almost anything.

“One million.”

Just throw and smash your glass... yes, that’s exactly what I would do at a formal charity auction. As I’m sure we all would.

“And how does he expected to pay for it? By robbing us?”

“That’s exactly right.”

“The Hood...”

“Pick pockets!”

Yes, Parker, they made it past you. Just.

“What makes you think I’ll willingly give you any of my money, hey?”

“I placed laser cutters on the cables, that hold up this Chateau. Would you like a demonstation?”

Why did you even say anything man?

“This one doesn’t show up on the system.”

“Who exactly are you?”

“Me? I uh...”

I did find it hard to believe that The Hood wouldn’t recognise John though. I mean, he’s even been to Tracy Island, he’s seen their portraits. I know John looks a little different in a suit, but still. I mean, it does look like The Hood is considering him, but I still think there would have been recognition there.

“If I could get outside, I could try and disable them.”

“You’ll need a distraction. Parker?”

“Right ‘away, M’Lady. hOi! hIf you’re gonna rob hus, hat least ‘ave the decency to serve proper canapes!”

Now chair throwing! This is perfect! Exactly my type of party.

Oh Bottomsly really is an idiot. I mean the name did hint.. A candlelabra? Great choice of weapon. TAG really risked their Universal rating on this one.

“Fool! You’ve activated the laser cutters!”

For once, and only once, I agree with The Hood. Bottomsly, you are a fool.

“This place is doomed!”

“And so are you!”

Well... nearly. When have we ever known The Hood not to have some kind of escape plan at the ready? I mean, he did in ‘Legacy’ and he really should have been done for then.

Nice of him to give us a little bow as well.

Now to go off topic for two seconds and see if I can give anyone a laugh for today;

You know what, I will give you the two images that popped into my head during this scene, particularily from the above photo.

1. Titanic. Iconic moment that I need not say more on. I will advise though that I’m not really a fan of this film, so I don’t quite know why it came to me.

2. Richard III (Ian McKellen’s version) - where, defeated Richard III falls into the fire below, arms wide and smiling. I never really understood this version of the film. It’s set in Nazi Germany... I will say no more.

“Hairstyle not recognised. And not very stylish.”

“We speak of this to no one.”

“To the rocket!”

Oh my gosh, the humour with this pair and EOS (finally someone wrote an episode with EOS)! This was so so needed in this episode and had me in fits.

“I’d like to see the reports for myself.”

“I’m not sure you’d understand them. But I’ve found a wonderful puppet show you might find entertaining.”

Best thing is - I reckon Gordon would have really liked that puppet show.

“Gordon to John. You’re AI is being evil again.”

I wouldn’t quite say this counts as evil, Gordon, more like mean, but your choice of words.

“EOS?”

“It’s not me this time!”

“This time?”

Oopps, nearly gave it away.

“I mean... How can I assist?”

See, there you go! Bond over your love for John. Probably the only thing (besides humour) that these two have in common. It was also really nice to see Gordon in Thunderbird Five. He never made it up there in TOS.

“I’d still take this over the crowds.”

John really does have a better head for heights than I do then.

“Scott, we need you now!”

Yep... like overdue need you that should have been.

“John, I’m on my way.”

“Pursue The Hood.”

“FAB.”

Yeah, because Kayo does the Bad Guy Chasing not the Rescuing.

“You expect me to slide down that wire? What, in a dining chair?

“No, Bottomsly, I expect you to help the others first. And if you’re lucky, you’ll get to leave before this whole place falls down on your head like a rock!”

Maybe a little harsher than it needed to be said like, but it did need saying. I love how Sherbet gets to go first!

“All I need is money!”

Don’t we all at the moment, Hood. Care to share?

“Surely you have something up your sleeve?”

“Actually I do. Brains said something about cufflinks.”

And probably should have finished explaining about them.

“He put a laser up my sleeve!”

That could have gone very wrong.

“Hang tight, I’m coming to get ya’.”

Did Scott forget to say that he meant that literally?

“John! No!”

“I got you, party boy.”

Kind of you to save your brother from possible death.

“Thanks, Scott. Just put me down anywhere. Anywhere but here!”

I love how John was desperate enough to try and climb away! That was a little mean of Scott to try it though.

“Much happreciation for fishing FAB hOne hout hof the sea.”

I love Parker’s priorities! In fact, there might be a fanfiction coming based of this. Stay tuned.

“I’ve been sent dozens of messages inviting the mysterious hero to parties everywhere. Shall I forward them?”

To Gordon, maybe?

“It’s a chance to see the world.”

“Thanks, but the world looks just fine from Thunderbird Five.”

Couldn’t agree more. I’d love to hace that view.

[justhereforseverus]

A Rose by any Other Name Would Smell as Sweet

Miserable_toad

Chapter 15: A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury.Summary:

You and Severus spent an intimate night together and he seems to open up to you more and more. The morning comes with a rude awakening and you can't hide your frustration with Dumbledore anymore.

Notes:

This took AGES. I’m so so sorry. Partly, because life is.. strange. Also due to my complete inability to write anything smut related. Sorry for the cringe in advance. There’s also fluff in there. And angst. Basically, a full package.

As always, thank you so much for reading, for your kudos and comments! :3 Comments are always appreciated.

Chapter Text:

We went through the empty hallways, down the staircases to the dungeons. When we stepped into his office, he locked the door behind us and led me to the fire. I sat on the couch after I had hung my jacket to a nearby hanger and put off my high heels. I could see that Severus carefully removed the handkerchief with the lily, looked at in thought for some moments and then put it on a small table near the couch, before going to the kitchen to get some tea. He came back, offered me a cup and then sat beside me. He was still smiling while putting his arm around me. I felt so warm and glowing with love and happiness. I sighed happily and put my hand on his knee. I asked him: “That handkerchief is pretty. Why a lily though? I know they are flowers of purity and virtue but seems very specific.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he drew in a long breath before saying: “…I bought it on a wimp many years ago. As a reminder.”

“Of what?” Wait, maybe I shouldn’t pry into this….I quickly added: ”You don’t have to tell me further. Just...”

He interjected: “No, it’s fine. Remus didn’t tell you anything about Lily Evans then?” I shook my head. “She was.. IS James Potter’s wife and I’m sure you’ve heard that name before.” – he said with a rather dismissive undertone.

“Yes, I think I’ve seen a picture of him in the Daily Prophet at some point because he was promoted or something? He was the guy who defeated Voldemort. I think Remus and Sirius are also friends of him. He lives in the US, doesn’t he?”

Severus nodded weakly: “I think so, yes. Lily and I.. We’ve been childhood friends, neighbours in a way. Went to Hogwarts together. I… liked her… a lot. She broke contact at some point. She was justified in doing that. I was an idiot but it still hurts.”

I think I’ve started to understand..in the end I commented “We all were idiots when we were young.”

“Maybe but I called her a terrible slur and I shouldn’t. Especially, because she was trying to help me when her precious future husband and a certain Mr. Black had me hanging from my ankles in the air.”

Oh Sirius… what an idiotic bully you’ve been. I only replied: “Ouch….you didn’t deserve that.”

“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t but it’s not like anyone but her cared. It doesn’t matter now. I know I did wrong. I know I was at fault. She never spoke another word to me after that and it’s fine. It’s long over now. I bought it to remind me of not doing that mistake again. But I don’t think I need that reminder anymore. At least, I hope so.”

“What.. slur was it?”

“You know.. mudblood, which in retrospective was pretty stupid. Thinking about the fact that I’m a half-blood myself.” - he said with a tired smile.

I gasped: “The head of Slytherin a half-blood?! Wow Salazar must turn in his grave.” I chuckled. “The person obsessed with pure-blood ideology has someone so brilliant and beautiful as a leader, who isn’t fulfilling his first requirement of ‘good’ wizards.” I kissed him on the cheek.

He smiled again,“That’s a secret though. Don’t tell my students.”

“But you’re the change they might need. So never tell me you’re useless again. And we’ve all said things that in retrospect were… shit. Like really shitty. We regret and learn from them. Some people forgive us and see our growth.. others don’t. In the end she married a bully so I guess she changed together with him, too. It’s sad she didn’t give you another chance though.”

Sadness cloudes his features: “I think I was always difficult to handle, especially back in those days. It was difficult to fit in a house that was full of rich and arrogant purebloods. But yes, you’re right. We’ve all changed, I hope. That’s the difference. In the end, it’s ok.. I think. I don’t look for her anymore, haven’t for years.” He exhaled and pulled me closer to me before adding cheekily: “I have to disagree with one point though, I don’t think Salazar would be particularly interested in the looks of his followers.”

I puffed: “Hello?! Have you seen his portrait?! He was certainly obsessed with his own looks. That cloak is extremely fancy and his pose so over the top.”

Severus laughed and I was relieved to see him happy again. Though, I had the desire to be closer to him now, to do more. With an unexpected rush of bravery, I saddled him on the couch. His eyes widened with surprised. I started to kiss him, softly at first but then more passionately. I could feel his hands wandering over my knees and thighs up to my back. I also wandered with my kisses to his neck until I could feel his hands tightening on my dress and an ever so quite moan escape from his lips. I liked hearing the ever so tight and controlled professor in a weaker position. But before I could expand on this new experience, he flipped me on my back in a swift movement and positioned himself between my legs regaining control. Unfortunately, the couch was a bit too short for that and we had to take care not to fall to the floor. He laughed and smiled, his face over mine, his long black hair falling softly around me. He said: “I think, we should continue this in a more comfortable environment.” I nodded, and to my surprise he carried me up in his arms like a bride to the bedroom. He cautiously laid me on the bed, continued his position from before and started kissing me passionately. I was completely lost. He smelled so nice and I loved feeling his weight on me, his hips on mine, his hands that slowly wandered down my sides. At some point my dress really started to bother me though. I couldn’t reach the zipper on the back like this nor was my wand in close proximity. So, I whispered: “My dress... Could you..”

“I understand.” He said and got to the side. I sat up and he helped me out of the dress by pulling the zipper down. I rather awkwardly moved out of it and he started kissing me on my neck and shoulders and I melted. He put his arms around me and tightly pulled me to his chest. “Oh, Severus – what are you doing with me?” I said softly with a shaking voice. He replied by whispering in my ears: “Let me worship you, darling.” And his hands wandered down to my bra, unlocking it, while getting rid of his shirt and pants. He leaned over me and I took a good look at him. He was mesmerising. I could see some scars on his hips and chest and made a mental note of asking him about them later but for the moment… I was enchanted and just drowned in his eyes. He looked like he felt the same before diving into another series of deep kisses. I could feel his hands on my chest, exploring, sending shivers to my core. His kisses wandering down and down, until he kissed the inside of my thighs, looking at me for consent. I nodded and he made me truly feel worshipped with his tongue and fingers until I fell apart. But I wanted more. He moved up to my mouth again to kiss me, removed his underpants and mine before lying on me. He gave a last questioning look before I confirmed again and then pushed deep. I could hear him panting, moaning quietly, a deep and holy sound in my ear, while he moved inside of me and my mind went blank with passion. Everything was just feeling, a fire moving between us until we both reached the peak.

Sweating and panting we laid in the darkness. I put my head on his naked chest and he ran his fingers through my hair before saying: “I…. sorry.. I feel like I can’t speak properly right now but.. shower maybe?” I answered with a heartily yes.

His bathroom was painted green and black and the walls were windows looking unto the Hogwarts lake. It felt like being under water as fish and other creatures swam by. Severus explained to me that the walls are not see through from the other side. He admitted, it’s weird at the beginning to get used to it. It was kinda cool though. Like showering in the sea. We went under the shower and the warm water felt fantastic. He pulled me close to him again and kissed me caringly.

When we went back to bed we just cuddled and I laid my head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat while he ran his fingers through my hair. After he sighed contentedly, he whispered: “I’ve never had such a pleasant Yule Ball night. Usually I leave the ball room early, punish some student couples who hide outside to do their frivolous activities and then go to bed early.”

“Oh, these nasty students” I laughed: “But yes, I agree. Thank you for the wonderful evening.” He kissed me again and after we talked for a little bit further we both fell into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning, I felt myself rather reluctant to do anything. In the end, most staff and students would probably sleep out their hangover, so this Saturday was intentionally left without events. Severus seemed to feel the same. He woke up earlier than I did but brought the breakfast on a big dinner tray to bed. He was very cute, sitting in his pyjamas with legs crossed on his bed, eating a croissant carefully over his plate. I took a sip from my orange juice and said: “I somehow didn't see you as the type to eat breakfast in bed.”

He smirked and scoffed: “Oh, what should I do then? Sitting on the fully set table, smoking a pipe and reading the newspaper every morning?”

“Would be very stylish indeed.”

“No. As reserved as I am, I rather don’t have breakfast at all or like that really. My family didn’t have a breakfast tradition anyway. I was glad to get a slice of toast on the way out on some days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that… though I often don’t have breakfast, too. I’m very bad in getting out of bed. It was different during my childhood though. My parents insisted on the morning ritual. I’m sorry to hear you that you didn't Is that the reason why you don’t talk much about your family?”

His expression dulled while he replied: “My parents were poor, my father was an incompetent and very angry fool. My mother suffered much. There is not much to say. It’s a boring story.” He shrugged. I told him that, independent of that, it’s part of him and I wanted to know if he wants to share. He told me afterwards that they died a couple of years ago and I said my condolences. He replied sharply: “Don’t be. It was probably the best for both of them. Though I’d wished I could have told my father what an asshole he is. I’ll never forget what he did to my mother in his rage.” I didn’t want to press further but it was certainly good to see him opening up bit after bit. He looked thoughtfully towards the ceiling.

A bell rang and disrupted our peace. Severus went to the door and told me to stay in the bedroom. He put on a morning gown and left. I could hear Filch speaking through the door: “I can’t find her. Her room is destroyed and Dumbledore sent me to you. Do you know where she is?”

Severus replied cold and distant:“...I do. Go to Dumbledore, we all meet up in his office.”

Severus explained to me that there was another break in. This time not in my classroom but my office. They were unable to break the spell protecting my private quarters but my office was turned upside down. Books destroyed, desk in half.. it was a sight. When I was standing in the middle of my destroyed office surrounded by Filch, Albus, Minerva, Sprout and Flitwick, I couldn’t hold in my anger anymore: “How did they even come here?! I thought Hogwarts was so protected?! You promised me that it wouldn’t happen again?!” I yelled in anger. I was frustrated and unreasonable and frankly, I didn’t care.

Dumbledore said in an overly calming tone, which kinda annoyed me: “They must have help from the Ravenclaw house” – here Flitwick looked to the floor ashamed – “The portrait hasn’t reported anyone not being a student of her house coming in but there are ways to conceal oneself. At least the protection on your private quarters worked. Of course, there is also a possibility that they didn’t want to go that far just to intimidate someone.” The headmaster got closer to me, grapped my shoulders in a comforting gesture before saying: “I’m sorry that happened. I truly am. I promise you we’ll find a solution and a punishment for the perpetrators. But if they were only students. they must have some help from someone who knows how to get around these spells. This isn’t taught at Hogwarts.”

I was devastated: “So, what?! It doesn’t matter! We knew who it was that did this to my classroom. What will you do now, headmaster? This has to end!”

“I know” – he said. “I’ll do my best. I’ll talk to him personally. To son and father. I’m sorry.” – he said sadly and turned away from me. That wasn’t as satisfying for me as it should be. I was disappointed and still angry. Minerva interjected before I could say more: “I don’t feel good with you returning to your quarters, darling. Maybe you should stay somewhere else for the time being. I wouldn’t feel safe knowing that someone was so close to my bed. Albus, you really have to consider that this was a direct attack on all of us. Please.” She petted my shoulders and looked at me with a pleading half-smile. I couldn’t be mad at her and she was right. I’d feel unsafe sleeping here for the time being.

“She stays with me.” – Severus interrupted sharply. Everyone looked at him and didn’t dare to challenge him on that proposition.

“Very well, Severus” – Dumbledore replied before adding “Under the proposition that Professor [y/n] wants that, too.” I nodded “yes, that’s fine with me. Thank you, Severus. I’m sure they won’t dare to break into your office.”

“And if they do, they’ll see what messing with me really means this time”, Severus said while looking closely at Dumbledore.

[clrecrossing]

Art Contest

Setting up a big art contest for everyone in New Hope hasn’t been easy. Isabelle thankfully has lots of experience organizing events, and the community immediately started working together to figure out how we would run it. I, Isabelle, Digby, Blathers, and Tom Nook would work together to judge the pieces submitted. We posted announcements all over town so people would have time to prepare their pieces, and then on the 10th we cleared out the plaza and set up displays for everyone to put up their art.

Everyone was really excited. Merengue was shy about displaying her own art. O’Hare was more than happy to show off his own and brag about it to everyone who came by. Eventually everyone who entered the contest had put their piece up, and then they were free to roam and look at what everyone had done.

Everyone loved it. They talked with each other about the various pieces of art done. Merengue, Canberra, and Hazel had actually joined up to make treats for everyone to snack on as they looked around. The event was so lively. Everyone loved making the art and getting together to have fun together. Puddles’ idea was a huge success.

Eventually it came time for the judges to look around at the individual pieces.

First we came around to Rodeo and his display.

His drawing of a rocket heading to the moon on the surface of an unknown planet was beautiful. Rodeo shyly mumbled that he’d thought a lot about what would be good to enter. He loved space, and he thought that maybe something that captured the fantasy of a trip through it would be good. I agree that looking at it captures the feel of looking out on an alien world and setting out to explore.

Puddles had done an amazing painting of the sun rising over the ocean. Puddles said it wasn’t much. Looking at it though I have to say that it’s absolutely gorgeous, and beyond anything that I could create myself. It’s clear that this is where her passion really lies. She’s got a lot of talent. Isabelle asked her how she did it, and Puddles said she’d just seen it one morning and known that’s what she wanted to do for the contest.

Fang’s own submission was very simplistic. Looking at it gave me a rather odd feeling. What was it supposed to be? A portrait of some sort? But the inner drawing was simplistic as well, to the point of not seeming to be anything in particular. Fang explained to all of us that he’d wanted to capture the focus of looking at someone. I wonder if this drawing really does capture what he feels when he’s looking at someone else. If the portrait is supposed to be a stand in for almost anyone, the more simplistic inner drawing does make sense.

Merengue was very bashful about her own offering. It was a design she’d come up with for a cake. She admitted that sometimes she just sketched out designs for her pastries later, and hoped that we didn’t think too badly of her submission for being more of a sketch of a plan than actual art. We all assured her that it was fine. Tom Nook joked that a bribe of an actual slice of cake would be acceptable as well.

Hans’s own submission was as stylish and detailed as his own passion. He had picked a clock that he had picked up some time ago and decided to do a drawing of it. Hans admitted that he wasn’t very satisfied with it, as the drawing couldn’t capture the depth of the history of the clock. Blathers said he thought the detailing was rather fine.

Blather’s little sister Celeste was the next contestant. She was almost hopping with excitement to talk with the judges and show what she had created.

She had wanted to do a picture of the night sky with her favorite constellation. She loved Gemini and liked the idea of doing a piece of the twin constellation. Digby joked asking if she was trying to appeal to him and Isabelle with that. Celeste flustered some and admitted that she’d actually been thinking of herself and her brother, despite them not being twins. Blathers gave her a huge hug.

Pancetti revealed that she had come up with a design for a dress. It wasn’t something that was actually finished of course, as making such things wasn’t for someone like her. She did think that it rather fit the quaint rustic feel of New Hope. I have to agree that the design is rather nice, even if I don’t like how Pancetti worded her ideas for it.

Hans was super proud to show off his art of a bunch of fireworks. He explained in great detail his passion for color and standing out, and that fireworks represented him perfectly. What else could capture his style and flash? The chalk art was nice. I don’t think it was quite as flashy as O’Hare imagined it would end up though.

Croque’s submission was shockingly basic, just the kanji for “oneself”. He seemed quite proud of it and told us that it represented what he thinks everyone should strive for: being centered in one’s self. Its symbolism is nice. I guess I should have expected something simple with a lot of thought in it from Croque. He’s no artist, but he is a deep thinker.

Hazel’s submission was as colorful and crazy as she herself is. It was busy and had so much going on in it it was hard to keep track of. Hazel talked at a mile a minute about how much trouble she’d had trying to settle on one thing, before finally deciding that all of it would be fine to include. The more there was the better after all, right?

Canberra’s submission was a design idea of color she’d been working on. She told us that she’d been playing with shapes and how they interacted, and decided that something showing off colors layering over each other in interesting ways would be a good submission. Blathers Isabelle and Digby all seemed to agree with that at least, pouring over the art with a sharp intensity.

Last of all was Leif’s submission. It was very simple. You could tell that a lot of time and effort had gone into this flower. It wasn’t complex, but what there was had been carefully layered with color to show off. Leif told us that he had wanted to share something that made him happy. I had to give him a hug for that.

Now that we had looked at everything we had to actually judge it. Let me tell you, doing that was hard! Puddles was clearly by far the best artist in the group, but would it really be fair to judge by that standard? Our entire town is so diverse. Not everyone chooses to do art, but everyone has something they shines with. Leif’s love of gardening, Merengue’s treats and pastries, Hazel’s crafts, Hans’ collection of antiques. Tom Nook suggested that we judge by the heart of things instead.

Puddles was rewarded first place. She puts a lot of heart and love into her creations. She was almost in tears over winning and promised us all that she’d never forget us. There was a lot of congratulations and hugs from everyone. Puddles had come back especially for this event, and we knew we likely wouldn’t see her again for a long time.

Hans came in second place. Tom told Hans that he was impressed by his choice in what to create, and Blathers complimented Hans heavily on his detail. I told him he’d have to tell me the story behind the clock after.

Canberra came in third place for her piece. She was shocked by the win, like she’d been expecting someone else to come in and say that it should go to someone else instead. Everyone told her that they loved her colors. Even Pancetti said it, though Pancetti was clearly miffed by the fact that she hadn’t won despite her “clearly superior design”.

We kept things out for the rest of the day for everyone to browse before moving the submissions to a special exhibit in the museum for everyone in New Hope to be able to go to and see the pieces. Hopefully we’ll be able to run another art contest in the future. Everyone had so much fun.

Credit for creating Rodeo and Hazel’s art goes to dderidex from Discord

Credit for Puddles’ sunrise painting to @summerartist​ 

Credit for Merengue’s cake design goes to CatWithHumanHands from Discord

Credit for Hans’ antique clock drawing goes to Cessi from Discord

Credit for Celeste’s constellation art goes to emmy451 from Discord

Credit for Pancetti’s dress design to @gleefully-macabre​

Credit for Leif’s flower to @easydias​

[thaisibir]

La Vie en Rose (Bede and young!Opal time travel fic)

La Vie en Rose (Life in Pink) Rating: T (for character deaths and language) Chapter 2/10 - Meeting Celebi (length: ~3k words) Summary: Bede doesn’t get why that loony old bat Opal wants him to be the next Fairy-type Gym Leader. To help him understand, Opal has Celebi take Bede back to the time of her youth.

(For other chapters, look up the tag “pokemon la vie en rose” or go to my profile)

As Bede carried the photos downstairs, a single burning question pervaded his thoughts: how did Opal’s nose get so long? Did she tell too many lies? Did she look at her feet too much and gravity pulled her nose down? But he thought it better to keep his mouth shut about that.

Once at the kitchen, Opal brewed tea while Obstagoon made salad sandwiches for lunch. Exactly what kind of salad sandwiches changed with each day. Today was egg salad. Opal’s hands were too frail and shaky to handle a knife, so she left that task to Obstagoon.

She had her back to Bede while she prepared the tea, but as she turned to give him his teacup, she said, “I’m sorry for getting upset with you. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“I wasn’t scared,” he quickly insisted. “It’s my fault, anyway. I shouldn’t have poked around where I shouldn’t be.” He ventured a question. “Why did you want to forget those photos?”

She settled into her chair with a shuddering sigh. “When you get to be as old as I am, Bede, you’ll learn that revisiting distant and dusty memories of people you’ve outlived can really hurt. If I was going to pick someone to inherit my Gym Leader mantle, I had to look to the future, not the past. I didn’t want to lose my focus, and I didn’t want to feel the pain. So I locked those memories away, and enough years passed so I couldn’t get up that attic and remember where I last left them.”

Bede didn’t know what to say to that. What could he possibly say to offer comfort or a solution? He set the photos over the dining table, muttering thanks to Obstagoon as the Pokemon offered him a slice of sandwich on a plate. He took that as a forgiving gesture from Obstagoon for upsetting Opal earlier. Typical of women her age, Opal avoided foods that would be hard on her teeth and gums, so it had been a while since Bede chewed on something like crackers and candy. Not that he complained. Obstagoon knew how to make good sandwiches.

“But now you don’t want to put away those photos anymore because of me,” Bede said.

Opal smiled at him. “You’re the chosen one. I’ve completed the hardest part of my task. Now that I can see the future, a future with you in it, I can afford to look back at the past without it hurting so much.” The old woman gazed down at the photos and took a long, thoughtful sip of her tea. “My, it’s been a long time since I’ve looked back at my better days.” She ran a hand through her snow-white hair. “This used to be so dark.” Then she tapped the tip of her long nose. “And this...” She glanced up at Bede with a twinkle in her eyes. “You’re probably wondering how this turned into a broomstick on my face.”

He merely hid his smirk behind the teacup in reply.

Opal tapped at her nose again. “Runs in the family, unfortunately. Got it from my dear old mum. Hers came in even earlier than mine. Ah, speaking of Mum, there she is. My last photo with her.” She pointed with a long painted nail at the two women standing in front of the Ballonlea Gym. Next to a young Opal—who Bede guessed to be in her late teens—was a woman with wild, dark hair down to the middle of her back, with wide eyes that seemed perplexed and distant before the camera. While Opal smiled for the picture and was well-dressed in a stylish blouse and skirt, her mother had a tight-lipped frown and wore a shawl frayed at the edges. “She was quite the character, my mum. Even more kooky than me, if you could believe it.”

“Hard to believe,” Bede admitted.

Opal chuckled at that, then she pointed at another photo. “Mightyena, Obstagoon, take a look. Those Pokemon next to my Roger, they are your great-great-great...great grandfathers.” She had to think and count on her fingers to say that.

Obstagoon peered over Opal’s shoulder, while Mightyena, closer to the ground, had to prop both front paws on the table to look over the table edge. All three smiled for the photo, with Mightyena sitting on one side and Obstagoon standing at the other. Roger had one hand over Mightyena’s head and the other on Obstagoon’s shoulder. The present-day pair of Dark type Pokemon stared down at the photo, pleased and intrigued to see their ancestors for the first time.

“You take after them in every way, if I do say so myself,” Opal remarked. She pulled out another photo and addressed Bede this time. “There’s me on my first day as Gym Leader.”

Bede knew from the League Card that Opal must have eighteen by that time. Framed by the photo, inside the Gym stadium, an eighteen year-old Opal posed with straight-backed pride. From her hands on her hips to the smirk on her face, she radiated confidence. Alongside her were Weezing, Togekiss, Mawile, and Alcremie: the same team of Pokemon she used right up to her retirement. Same kinds of Pokemon, to be exact, but not the very same that had been with her seventy years ago. Those original Pokemon were long gone. Bede wondered how Gym battles were fought back then. Not for the first time since staying with Opal, he was reminded of how long she had been around, roughly five times longer than he’d been alive, and the fact never ceased to amaze him.

Opal picked up the photo that was on the verge of tipping over the tabletop. “Oh, here’s my old man, Sir Lionel Roy. And that’s me with my brothers.”

The family posed before a mansion this time, clearly not in Ballonlea. Opal was a little girl—Bede guessed before ten years old—and she cradled a Togepi egg in her arms. Standing rigidly beside her in suits were two boys, one nearly identical to Opal in height and hairstyle while the other was shorter and younger. The severe-looking man standing over them, their father, had a bristling mustache obscuring the top lip and a tophat tucked in one arm. The male Pyroar sitting beside him looked just as stern. The only one smiling in that solemn, formal family portrait was a Yamper at the feet of the older boy.

“That boy is my twin, Randall. The other one is Kestrel.”

“Your family looks loaded,” Bede remarked.

“Hardly anyone knows that these days,” she replied modestly. “I may have been born in Wynwall, but I spent most of my life here in Ballonlea.”

“Wynwall?”

“Don’t you know your Galar history, my boy? Where do you think that Chairman Rose got the name for the city he built? The land he settled on for his city was called Wynwall for ages.”

At her hint of exasperation, Bede scowled and stuck out his bottom lip. “I skipped lessons at the orphanage. I had crummy teachers who hit the back of your hand with a ruler and put you in timeout with a dunce hat on your head.”

“In that case, my dear, I don’t blame you for skipping them.” Opal patted his hand with sympathy, then resumed her grip on the teacup to drink the last of her tea. “Anyways, that’s my family. The Roy family.”

Bede scanned through the many photos Opal hadn’t mentioned and discussed. Pictures of her with Jasper: exhausted yet beaming as she held her newborn son for the first time, reading a book to him on his bed, caught in mid-laughter when he put a theatrical mask over his face the wrong way. Pictures of her with Roger: posing backstage in period costumes, swept up in the passionate wind of singing a duet on stage, dressed in their best and in each other’s embrace on their wedding day. Even through the sepia tone of old photos, a distant past, Bede could really feel the vibrant color of Opal’s spirit jumping out at him. He took in the portrayals of important people who once populated Opal’s life, then looked up to find a pitiful and lonely sight as she sat alone across from him. “What happened to them?”

She turned wistful eyes to the window. “All sorts of things. I could talk your ear off all day long and my rambling will put you to sleep better than a Pokemon could use Hypnosis, or I could invite someone who will do a much better job of showing you than I ever could.” Opal lowered her teacup to level a serious gaze at him. “Bede, my boy, there’s someone special I want you to meet. But first, we have to wait for the morning of spring equinox, and I have to prepare a special treat for that special someone.”

Bede scrunched up his brow in confusion. “That’s oddly specific.”

“Indeed. Did I already mention that our visitor’s quite special?”

“So who’s coming?”

But she wouldn’t tell him. Spring equinox was a week away, so Bede spent that week passing the time with reading Ruby’s book, training in Glimwood Tangle, keeping Opal’s house clean, and occasionally bugging her with the same question. Each time she would not answer, much to his dismay.

“You should be focusing on your studies,” she would tell him with a wagging finger. “If you don’t study, you’ll fail my quizzes.”

That lady just loved asking questions. She could come up with new ones every day without effort, and Bede had to be ready for any tricky ones she would give. She wanted him to know Fairy type Pokemon inside and out, just like she had.

Late at night before spring equinox, well past his bedtime, Bede watched Opal make a cheri berry pie that made his mouth water. But it looked too small of a serving even for him. Was Opal talking about a tiny child? At the crack of dawn, he followed her out of the cottage and deeper into Ballonlea, away from the human populace and where the mushrooms clustered closer overhead.

Bede glanced back at the house. “You’re not taking Mightyena or Obstagoon with you?”

“Our visitor is very shy and doesn’t take well to Dark type Pokemon. Best if it’s just the two of us coming up.”

Impatience gnawed at him like the jaws of a Mawile. “You’ve got to tell me, Ms. Opal. Just who are we about to see?”

She winked at him. “Someone who can’t resist the aroma of my cheri berry pie.”

That didn’t tell him anything. Bede found the old woman’s habit of withholding information maddening. A frustrated sigh slipped through his lips as he followed Opal through the tangle of moss, mushrooms, and the drooping branches of ancient trees.

“It was easier to crawl through here when I was a little girl,” Opal remarked. She opened up her umbrella to protect herself from the snagging, finger-like twigs above them. She had Bede hold the pie while she led the way through the dense undergrowth. Finally they stopped inside a ring of tiny yellow mushrooms. The tree before them was so large and old that moss hung down from the branches like a thick green curtain.

Opal folded up her umbrella and took the pie from Bede. “I have your favorite pie warm and ready for you,“ she called. “Come on out.”

All was silent and still for several moments. Bede could hear the blood pound through his ears. Then the curtain of moss rustled. A light-green shape darted from behind them. Bede’s eyes could barely track the winged, flitting blur before it stopped just in front of the pie Opal held out.

His jaw dropped. “Is that Celebi? That time-traveling Pokemon from the Johto region?”

Opal lowered the pie to the forest floor and grinned at him. “You know your Legendary Pokemon. Looks like you didn’t skip all your lessons at the orphanage.”

Bede’s cheeks warmed. “The only ones worth sitting through are the ones about Pokemon.” He shook his head in wonder. “Celebi...it really is real.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. He dared not raise it. If he did, he might just send the Pokemon flying back into hiding, he thought.

“Long time no see, Celebi,” Opal said fondly. “You still remember me, don’t you?” She pulled off the pink and black glove on her right hand. Bede noticed a large, jagged scar on her palm, and when she turned her hand over, the same scar appeared on the back of it. It was as if someone had stuck a knife straight through her hand. Celebi gently laid its small, light green hands over Opal’s right palm, then smiled at her with a soft affirmative “Bi.”

“I’m sorry that it’s been a while since I last paid you a visit,” she said. “I’m not getting any younger.”

Celebi touched its forehead against Opal’s and twirled in the air, perhaps to say that it didn’t mind and that it understood.

They watched Celebi eat the pie, then Opal glanced at Bede. “I need to teach you how to cook sometime. The quickest way to a Pokemon’s heart is through the stomach.” She looked back at the little green Pokemon. “You know, I’m lobbying for the scientific community to retype Celebi as a Fairy type.”

Bede raised his eyebrows at her. “How’s that going for you?”

She shrugged and turned up her palms. “Not making much traction, unfortunately. I’ve been trying for the past forty years. Those scientists can be a stubborn bunch, I tell you.” The corners of a smirk made small indents in her cheeks. “I did, however, manage to play a part in convincing other regions to retype many of their Normal types. Professor Magnolia and I collaborated on a thesis to present to the research community. Did you know that Galar was the first region to officially recognize Fairy types? It took a while for the rest of the world to catch on.”

Bede shook his head. “You sure are crazy about Fairy types, Ms. Opal.”

She merely grinned at his comment. “Not crazy. Passionate. You find that passion, something to live for, and that makes life worth living.”

Celebi finished the pie and wiped red stains from its mouth. Opal took the chance to address it again. “Celebi, this is Bede, who I’ve taken under my wing. He needs to understand why I chose him to be next Gym Leader of this town. It’s not an answer I can give shortly and easily. Celebi, darling, I have a big favor to ask you. Please help him understand by taking him back to the time of my youth.”

Celebi considered this for a moment, then smiled and nodded.

Bede took a step back. “W-wait. I’m going back in time? With Celebi? How long am I going to be traveling back?” Suddenly he wished he had spent that past week preparing for the journey ahead. If only that woman had let him know in advance! “Won’t I need to eat, drink, sleep, and...” His ears grew hot. “You know, use the loo?”

Opal waved a hand in dismissal. “Oh, don’t worry about all that. Celebi’s time-travel ability puts a peculiar effect on the human body, so that you leave and come back to find that barely a second had passed in the present day. You won’t be thinking about your usual bodily needs and functions. When Celebi takes you to another time, you’re not really there, in a sense. You’re there to observe only. You’ll have no physical presence and no power to alter the events you’ll see. Things would get quite hairy if that weren’t the case. Disrupts the continuum of time, creates paradoxes, and all that.”

Bede didn’t fully understand, but he nodded. “All right, then. And what about you, Ms. Opal? Are you coming with me?”

She shook her head. “There can’t be more than one self in the same era, which means that there can’t be young me and current me in the same time and place. I have to stay here in the present. So will your Pokemon. You won’t need them where you’ll be going. I’ll take care of them while you’re gone.”

Throughout his life, Bede had been alone and fending for himself. It had always been him against the world. Normally Bede wouldn’t trust his Pokemon with anyone, but he knew from his time with her that he could trust a seasoned and caring Trainer like Opal. He unhooked his belt of Poke balls and handed them over to her.

She hugged the belt to her chest, as if she understood the significance of his willingness and appreciated it. “You’ll be on your own, my boy, while you go see me seventy years ago. But don’t fret—Celebi is an excellent guide. You won’t get lost.”

Celebi danced a figure eight in the air and looked at Bede expectedly.

“It is ready to take you through time,” Opal said. “When it does this, take its hands and don’t let go.”

Bede stepped up to do as she told him. His fingers enveloped and closed over Celebi’s small hands. The time-traveling Pokemon from Johto tilted back its chin, closed its large eyes, and warm light emanated from its form. The light outshone the glowing mushrooms and sent ripples up the trees. Bede squeezed his fingers tighter around Celebi and shut his eyes, but that only made the insides of his eyelids go red.

Before the light engulfed everything, he caught Opal’s faint parting remarks. “Bede, my boy, you’ll find that you and I aren’t so different. You’ll understand what pink means. See you on the other side.”

Notes: Musical inspiration for this chapter was “Departing London” from The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.

When and how did Opal get the scar? Only time-traveling will tell!

I thought it’d be cute to have a naming pattern in Opal’s family, so everyone has a name ending in -al or -el, like Lionel, Randall and Kestrel.

[batskulldrag]

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

chapter thirteen is here. this one contains Romile, and plenty of fluff

Chapter Thirteen: Out of Hell by Skillet      

Virgil fluttered nervously past Roman for the third time. Roman watched as his nephew peered out each window and retreated back to the couch. Virgil drummed his fingers against his laptop and chewed the band aid on his stationary hand.

               “You ok Billie Stylish?” Roman asked, sitting down beside him.

               “Sure. I’m fine.” Virgil didn’t look up.

               “It’s going to be ok.” Roman put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Payton has laughed his last laugh. And he will spend the rest of his days being beaten up in prison.”

               “But what if Payton accuses you guys of being child rapists or something? Then he’s going to win because everyone always believes him, and he’ll have ruined your lives. Or he’ll lose anyway, but still manage to ruin the three of you, and I have to live with the constant guilt that this is all my fault for getting you into this. And Uncle Patton and Uncle Logan are going to be quiet about the whole thing while silent resentment grows, because everything was fine until I showed up. Or worse, they’re not, and they’re just gonna forgive me for bringing this plague down on them.”

               “That’s quite the soliloquy.” Roman patted him on the head. “And that’s not going to happen. Payton can accuse us of whatever he likes, but I know a secret.”

               “You can blackmail him?” Virgil jolted up.

               “No, it’s like this. You remember how the bastard always told you that people always side with the adult?”

               “Yes, that’s why I’m worried.”

               “Well, first of all it’s a fallacy. Secondly, what is true is that people tend to side against the man who is in prison for trying to murder a child.”

               “He wasn’t trying to kill me.” Virgil’s heart audibly sank. “Was he?”

               Roman leaned back in surprise. Payton probably hated Virgil, at the very least he didn’t love him. And the viper had put him in the hospital more than once. Yet, Virgil was still hurt to think that Payton wanted him dead. Why should he care what Payton wanted?

               “I don’t know.” Roman hugged him. “He trapped you in a burning building. If he wasn’t trying to kill you, then it just means he’s not a murderer per say. But at the very least, it means that he didn’t care if you died. And that’s not your fault. That’s on him.”

               “I’m sick of being upset about this.” Virgil made a sound halfway between a scream and a sob. “I know he doesn’t care about me. Why is it still a gut punch? Why do I even still care at all?”

               “Humans feel.” Roman rubbed his back softly. “And feelings never make sense.”

               “I hate it.”

               “Come on, let’s go do something to take your mind off things.” Roman patted him on the shoulders. “It’s about time you got to be a kid.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               Virgil chewed on his hoodie strings as the crowd gathered around the tour guide.

               “Sacred of ghosts, Sweeny toddler?” Roman teased, ruffling his hair.

               “I ain’t afraid of no ghost.” Virgil sneered.

               “No, but I bet they’re terrified of you. We might not even see any with you around.”

               Virgil laughed softly. Two hundred uncle points. Roman put his arm around him and they walked up to the guide.

               “Two spots in your tour please.” Roman said as he produced the fairs with a great flourish.

               “Oh, you again.” The guide exhaled. “And you have a kid with you. Great.”

               The guide took the money and Roman contentedly fell into step with Virgil in tow.

               “He doesn’t like you.” Virgil taunted. “Did you steal his boyfriend?”

               “Virgil, a man does not steal a life partner, nor does he win one. He woos one.”

               “Woo. Woo.” Virgil added with a straight face and a straighter voice.

               “And the tour guide simply doesn’t appreciate me practicing my improv while I’m on his tours.” Roman explained. “Although, he is a very nice fellow. We both work as nude models at the portraiture class. He’s straight, so I had no chances.”

               “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” Virgil mimicked.

               “You’ve been watching a lot of sit-coms?”

               “I can’t sleep some nights, so I just YouTube deep dive. And now I know how to make a life like moose out of old newspaper.”

               “Chamomile tea. Try some before bed, or warm milk.”

               “You make it sound like conspiracy theories aren’t good for me.” Virgil grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Did you know that there was this one lady who made her victims into soap, and she used the soap. But the worst part was she also turned them into cake, and she ate the cake.”

               “Remind me to get you some video games, something less… horrible.”

               “I thought video games cause violence.” Virgil smirked.

               “Sure, and vaccines cause autism. Pencils cause bad handwriting, spoons cause fat people and gays in media cause gay people.”

               “Yeah, I’m gonna murder a bunch of people because I’m playing Pokémon.” Virgil sneered, damn he was good at it. “It has nothing to do with the school system that does nothing to stop bulling, or the extremely abusive dad y’all sent me home to every day. It was the video games, Linda.”

               “What kind of Pokémon did you have?” Roman changed the subject away from Payton.

               “I had a Mew, a Haunter and a Psyduck. And a psychic type Evee.” Virgil sighed. “I went with the mind powered ones and all the ghost types.”

               “That sounds fun.” Roman beamed, finally one nice thing in this little boy’s life.

               “My dad broke my computer, and any other device that had my game on it.” Virgil looked at the ground. “I think they starved to death.”

               Why is it that whenever something good happens you show up to ruin it? You snake in the machine, I hate you. Roman silently scripted a call out letter to Payton.

               “Hey, it’s Dr. Picani.” Virgil derailed his train of thought.

               Roman looked over and spotted the familiar blond-haired doctor now wearing a brown T-shirt that displayed the Scooby Doo gang and khaki cargo shorts. More importantly though was the fact that his now exposed arms showed off an array of tattoos. Roman rubbed his eyes, no way. No way did this man, this doctor have tattoos. No, it was far more likely that he had a twin brother, and that was who they saw now.

               “He’s got ink.” Virgil squeaked in awe. “Let’s go say hi to him.”

               Virgil grabbed his hand and darted towards the doctor. He was alarmingly strong for a kid who only weighed a hundred pounds.

               “Virge, wait.” Roman said in a hushed voice, pulling the emo back. “I’m not sure we should.”

               “Are you a-scared of the doctor?” Virgil laughed.

               “No, he was in my still life class last week…”

               “OOOOOO, you’re embarrassed to talk to a guy who has nudes of you.” He was incorrigible. “Maybe if you ask nice, he’ll give the pictures back. Or are you afraid he’ll post it on social media?”

               “I’m not embarrassed for me, he ended up getting really upset and I consoled him afterwards.” Roman explained. “I’m worried if I talk to him it’ll put him in an awkward position.”

               “SUUUREEEE.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Cause the dude who strips down and poses isn’t the guy in the awkward position.”

               “Why do you suddenly turn into a kid now?”

               “What’s the problem?” Virgil shrugged. “So he got upset, big deal. I cried in front of him a few times and I’m not embarrassed to talk to him. If you refused to talk to anyone who’s seen you naked or who’s gotten frustrated with painting, you’d have to be a hermit. Just like if I avoided everyone who has seen me crying about something, I wouldn’t be able to leave my room.”

               “You’re stunningly sharp.”

               “Hey! Dr. Picani!” Virgil yelled, which Roman didn’t think he could do, as he waved over to the doctor.

               Picani waved back and approached them. His legion of tattoos becoming clearer. Unsurprisingly, if anything about this could be considered unsurprising, most of his tattoos were from cartoons. The one that struck Roman in particular was the image of Lady Rainacorn wrapped around his left arm from shoulder to wrist. His right arm displayed a group portrait of Clifford, Courage, Scooby Doo, Blue, some green dog that looked like a stuffed toy who he didn’t recognize and Goddard.[1]  

               “Hey Virgil.” Emile greeted happily. “Hi Roman.”

               “Awkward indeed.” Virgil looked over at Roman with raised eyebrows.

               “Good evening Emile.” Roman added cordially. “Are you out ghost hunting as well?”

               “Yeah, I figured I should get out. And this sounded like a nifty idea. What brings you to this haunted cul-de-sac?”

               “We live here.” Virgil said smoothly with an air of villainy. “Well, lived here. We’re the ghosts that haunt these streets.”

               “Aren’t you the cutest thing?” Emile ruffled Virgil’s hair. “It’s nice to see you so excited.”

               Virgil scowled at the sidewalk as his face turned red. The tour guide started walking and they followed him in quite precession. Roman rubbed his hands in anticipation of their first stop. Now he had two people to impress.

               “I didn’t know you had ink.” Virgil pressed Emile. “And I really didn’t know you had that much.”

               “Yeah,” Emile looked at his arms. “I’ve got a couple of books worth of it. Lady Rainacorn is new. I think it’s healing up nicely.”

               “Did it hurt?”

               “Not as bad as my first one did.”

               “What was the first one?”

               “It was actually Clifford,” Emile showed them the portrait. “I got it to cover up a dog bite.”

               “Really?” Virgil leaned back in surprise.

               “Yeah, he was old and sore, and I tried to pet him. Still got me good.”

               “That’s awful.” Roman added.  

                “It’s ok.” Emile shrugged. “He was a good boy, he just got old.”

               “Alright our first stop.” The guide had everyone gather around. “This building stands abandoned due to the ghosts that torment anyone who dares try to live in it. The house was built atop an Indian burial ground. The spirits buried here cannot rest because of the desecration to their sacred place.”

               “That is wholly inaccurate.” Roman added loudly. “The tormentors of the building are remnants of the poor souls who died their when it was used as an unlicensed hospital in the eighties. The proprietors mismanaged their facility horridly and would even go so far as to steal supplies from the actual hospital. They would go on to receive more unwelcomed visitors from beyond in the form of men and women who died as a result of their theft. Malpractice insurance really didn’t cover that one.”

               “Really?” The guide looked bored. “Who are you tonight Roman?”

               “Dr. Roman Brown. Paranormal expert.” Roman put his arm around Virgil. “I’m here with my ward.”

               “How’d you get a kid?” The guide expressed genuine confusion and revulsion.

               “I’ve had Virgil for a time now, I caught him trying to pick my pocket. Poor creature lived on the streets.”

               “Really?”

               “Yes really.” Virgil retorted. “I was abandoned as a baby on the steps of a Catholic church. But they believed that I had demon’s blood in my veins and sent me out into the streets to fend for myself when I was four.”

               “You’re half demon?”

               “Maybe.” Virgil shrugged. “Who’s to say? All I know is that there are a lot of things that keep trying to pull me into hell.”

               “Really?” The guide scoffed.

               “Just last month a hand shot up out of the dirt and grabbed my ankle.” Virgil continued flawlessly. “I fought it as it tried to drag me under and broke my foot in the process.”

               Virgil pointed at his walking boot. The crowd murmured in astonishment. Roman’s heart swelled with pride.

               Defeated, the guide took them to the next stop.

               “Virgil, that was beautiful.” Roman said quietly. “The way you flawlessly wove your cast into the narrative as proof was inspired. I’m so proud of you, I may weep.”

               “I got good at lying.” Virgil looked at his feet. “I learned from the best.”

               “Never mind Payton.” Emile patted him on the shoulder. “You can just have fun making up stories tonight. Be a kid.”

               “Are those doctor’s orders?” Virgil looked up at him.

               “They are now.” Emile stood up straight.

               Roman noticed an indent in Emile’s shirt. It looked like a stud in his navel. Did he have piercings as well? Who was this man?

               “Here we have the next stop, it may not look like much, but Kim and Jim’s Bar and Grill was built on top of the remains of the old mortuary and is plagued with strange events to this day.” The guide explained, you could tell he hated this job.

               “Yes,” Emile chimed in. “There was a gruesome series of experiments in the mortuary and now the woods are inhabited with the results. Terrifying amalgamations made of severed limbs. Hands attached to feet, heinous arm-leg monsters and every other combination that doesn’t include a face. Stripped of their identities they roam around helplessly.”

               “And at night, when the drunks go home,” Roman added. “You can hear them crying. They’re in so much pain.”

               The audience and guide looked at them, baffled.

               “Of course.” Virgil suddenly said, gesturing towards Emile. “Dr. Emile Vankmen. Parapsychologist. A true credit to his field.”

               There were many nods. The tourists didn’t really care for a believable story, they wanted a good story. And by the sniped snakes of a gorgon salon, that is what they were going to get.

               They went through the stops, trumping the guide’s every tale with a gruesome murder, demonic happening or cartoon plot line. The crowd was eating it up and Virgil was teaming with energy. He seemed to be absorbing it and converting it into power.

               “Virgil is having fun.” Emile laughed.

               “I know,” Roman beamed. “We uncles know how to let one become a kid.”

               “Are you related to the other two?”

               “No, we’re just especially close.” Roman recalled fondly. “I cheated for Patton for a month while he was dealing with his mother’s death. Of course, without him knowing.”

               “How did you do that?” Emile looked confused and slightly impressed.

               “I wrote a few essays in character as him.” Roman brushed it off as if it were nothing. “I’m always up for a chance to practice my vocation.”

               “Virgil, don’t let him cheat for you.” Emile looked down at where Virgil was.

               Emphasis on was, because he was gone. Roman felt instant panic. He had lost Virgil! He had lost a traumatized child with anxiety! Virgil was probably terrified! What if he was hurt?!

               “Where did he go!!??” Roman yelped. “He was just here? Virgil!?”

               “Ok, ok.” Emile held up a shaking hand. “Maybe he walked to the front of the group.”

               Through their panic they heard Virgil scream, then the tour guide and a few tourists scream.

               The worst had happened! Roman ran to the front of the line and saw Virgil on the ground laughing while the guide stared at him irately.

               “Virgil!” Roman grabbed him. “Don’t do that again! I thought I lost you!”

               “Sorry.” Virgil relented rather easily. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I, I hadn’t considered that you’d notice I was gone.”

               “Well, I did.” Roman walked back to their place in the group, holding Virgil’s hand. “I want you to stay where I can see you. It’s dark and you don’t know the neighborhood, something might have happened to you.”

               Virgil was quiet as he looked at the sidewalk in confusion. He was probably wondering why no one was hitting him. In fact, he was probably wondering why Roman cared what happened to him. Roman sighed, he didn’t know how to un-traumatize a kid, all he really had to go off was how Logan had been after everything came out. And Virgil and Logan were drastically different characters with very different abusers. So, that wasn’t much of a comparison.

               “Virgil.” Roman put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled. But you really scared me, and I don’t want you wandering around where I can’t see you.”

               “You call that yelling?” Virgil looked confused. “It’s fine. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m sorry.”

               “Ok. Let’s continue our tour.” Roman wrapped his arm around him. “But now you have to hold my hand.”

               “Whatever.” Virgil rolled his eyes and smiled.

               “And to this day, no one knows the cause of the building’s collapse.” The guide pointed at a vacant spot where a house had once been.

               “Actually, that one was us.” Emile interrupted, feigning embarrassment. “It was how we found out about Virgil’s powers.”

               “He has powers now?” The guide raised an eyebrow.

               “Yep,” Virgil picked up. “Demonic powers made the whole building implode. I can control them much better now.”

               “He had a nightmare that manifested itself into physical form and started haunting us.” Emile continued. “It picked us off one by one until only Virgil was left. Last thing I remember is just… blackness. No sound, no light. I don’t think I could even feel anything, then next thing I knew, I was just back and there was no more building. Not even rubble, just what you see now, with Virgil standing in the middle of it.”

               “Yes, I remember that night.” Roman joined in. “A hideous creature started roaming the halls. It was six feet tall, completely black and had no face. Well, no face on its head. But it’s chest. Right where men have a navel, it had a mouth. And when it opened that horrid maw a vertical slit went up to its pencil thin neck and showed a ribcage. A ribcage broken down the middle that it used as teeth. A long red tongue cleaned saliva and blood off the jagged ribs as it drooled in anticipation of its next meal.”

               “And the smell.” Virgil added solemnly. “It reeked of decay. Of maggot filled puss and blackened flesh. Not like cooked blackened, more like dead five times over blackened. And he enveloped his prey in darkness like a spider cocooning its next meal.” Virgil gagged, for real. The little one had just made himself sick.

               “And he took the other two.” Virgil looked at the crowd. “I was the only one left, and just when I was sure that I was gonna die alone, with only that, that thing as company, I felt this sensation in my gut. Like a burning. And it went through my whole body and a moment of realization overcame me. This heat was natural, familiar. I realized what I was, who I was. And that thing, well, that thing was gonna pay for what it did. So, I focused my energy, my hatred, my courage on it and the whole building came down around us, and the thing was sucked into the ground, leaving me standing in an empty lot.”  

               “Let’s just move on.” The guide was even more unimpressed with them.

               Virgil made faces behind the guide’s back for the rest of the night. Emile did as well. Roman sent him a few ungentlemanly hand gestures and internally called him a bitch. He had no taste for a good horror story. Heathen. That was an excellent description and a lovely climax.

As the night went on Roman noticed that Virgil was walking differently and always stood on his good foot whenever they stopped. When they were moving, he would either limp very slightly or hop on one foot, which he tried to cover up, but really couldn’t.

               “Is your foot hurting?” Roman asked, fairly aware of the answer and the lie that Virgil would tell.

               “No.”

               “Yes, it is.”

               “That’s a neat trick. Can you tell me if my neck hurts next?”

               “Alright, come on.” Roman picked him up.

               “What are you doing!?”

               “I’m going to carry you.”

               “Like hell you are!”

               “Come on, you really mean to tell me that you don’t want a piggyback ride?”

               “I’m an adult.”

               “You’re a teenager at best.”

               “That’s still too old.”

               “But someday you’re gonna be too big to carry.”

               “Yeah, yesterday.”

               Ignoring him completely, Roman slumped Virgil over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and kept walking.

               “Have you been sleeping better lately?” Emile asked, lagging behind slightly so he could see Virgil’s face.

               “Yeah. I guess.”

               “He,” Roman interrupted. “Has been watching horrific true crime stories on his computer.”

               “Oh, sure. Say nothing about the newspaper moose.” Roman assumed that Virgil was sneering.

               “Well, they proved that you shouldn’t be on your computer before bed.” Emile offered.

               “Uncle Logan told me the same thing.”

               “Wikipedia’s sleep routine doesn’t help him sleep though.” Roman accused.

               “I’m telling him you called him that.”

  ��            “He knows.”

               They apprehensively arrived at their last stop.

               “This cemetery is a hot spot for paranormal activity.” The guide explained. “It is home to The Tunnleberry Vampire, the bipedal dogs and the ghost of many a deranged Civil War general. The most famous of which resides in that mausoleum over there.” He pointed to a large grey building with carved angels out front. “Legend has it that he was betrayed in battle and rose from the grave to exact his revenge on those who betrayed him. His lieutenant who spear headed the mutiny was found suffocated to death inside the general’s empty casket. The general’s body was never found.”

               “I believe the vampire was just the cemetery caretaker in a mask.” Emile interrupted. “He wanted to increase tourism in these parts to drive up the value of this graveyard so they couldn’t sell it.”

               “And those bipedal dogs turned out to be a pair of really hairy dudes banging.” Virgil shuddered. “I think it’s scarred onto my retinas.”

               “But that mausoleum.” Roman said seriously. “There is definitely something about that place. Something that haunts me. Something that despite all my years of ghost hunting still strikes me as the most unnatural event I have ever been unlucky enough to witness with my own eyes.”

                “Of course, there is.” The guide sighed.

               “It was back when I was still trying to get my paranormal business off the ground.” Roman dove into the story. “My then partner, and senior ghost hunter, Luigi Verd, was by my side the entire time. True blue he was, I’ll always remember him. We found ourselves in this graveyard investigating a series of disappearances around town. Mostly just troubled teens, alcoholics, and the homeless. But a life is a life, and a mystery is a mystery indeed. So, we set up.”

               Roman took a pause to let them get sucked in.

               “I was doing most of the lifting, as Luigi was recovering from a head injury. He had healed nicely in the hospital. The only sign of trauma was a stitched-up gash along his forehead. He was excited to have a scar to show off.” Roman looked at the ground sadly. “Or so I thought.”

               He could feel their anticipation.

               “Just as I had set everything up for our séance, we were hoping to ask the dead for a clue about the living. Anyway, just as I had finished these hooded men burst into the tomb. They were clad in floor length, red robes with their hoods pulled up to block out their faces. Before I could even react, two of them had me by each arm and they forced me onto one of the coffins and started tying down. And Luigi, who was like a brother to me, he just watched. They didn’t even go for him, but he just watched them bind me. I called out to him, and in response. He…” Roman took an exaggerated gasp. “He pulled out the stitch on his forehead. And his skin fell limp, but behind it where I expected flesh to be was more skin. And he pulled his face off as if he were removing a mask. And under the mask, under the face of a man I had known my entire life was this… this stranger! This figure who I didn’t know from Payton, slowly pulling the hide of my friend off his face. Wearing Luigi as a mask! The stranger laughed at me! He laughed at the brutal terror that welled up inside me! And he pulled out a long sharp knife…”

               “I was at the cemetery myself that night.” Virgil took up the story. “Following the dudes who were nice enough to not have me arrested for picking their pockets. In my childish mind I had sworn a life debt to them in that moment. But, little did I know that I’d be paying it off that night. Because that was when I heard the screams.”

               Mimicking Roman’s style Virgil paused and took a breath.

               “Being seven, whenever fight or flight came up in my brain I would normally fly. But that night, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why, I chose to fight. I sprinted towards the source of the screams and found the tomb doors closed to the outside. But did that stop me? No, with whatever strength a half-starved kid possesses I threw myself into the door and just kept slamming into it. I was in a frenzy! I just kept bashing into that door with all my weight. Seventy pounds of skin and bones ramming the door like there was no tomorrow.”

               “That’s where I came in.” Emile joined. “I had hit an alligator, literally there was a tiny alligator wrapped around my tire and was trying to fix my tire when I heard both the screaming and the constant thudding. I too ran to the source and saw a small child, bruised and bloody, hammering his fragile body into the concrete doors. The first thing I did was wrestle him away from the door before he killed himself. Then, I forced my tire iron between the crack in the two doors to pry it open like a lever. It budged open an inch, but then the men inside swung it open to see what was going on. I fought them as best as I could, even managing to break one’s arm. But then their leader pulled out this whip, made out of bones, human spinal bones and he snapped my weapon out of my hands while I was still reeling from the shock. Next thing I knew I was being chained to the floor.”

               “They took this distraction in their stride.” Roman shuddered. “And with Virgil and Emile dealt with they turned back to me. The knife wielder tore my shirt off in one swipe and drove his knife into my chest. Just when I thought I was done for I realized that he wasn’t about to stab me to death. Instead he slid the knife down towards my stomach, he was skinning me!”

               “I did the only thing I knew how to do.” Virgil jumped in. “I played dead. And miracle of miracles, they bought it. The one with the whip bent down to check on me, and I bit him. I sank my teeth into his wrist like it was the most delicious prime rib known to man. He fought me with his free hand, but no number of blows was making me spit that fucker’s arm out. I dug in until I hit bone, I ground my teeth to widen the wound, I sunk in until I was certain that he and I were one…”

               “And I took the opportunity to dislocate my thumb.” Emile jumped in on cue. “And slid out of one of my wrist restraints. With my free arm I put Virgil’s new chew toy in a head lock, he didn’t put up too much of a fight, as now he was woozy with blood loss. He collapsed, and Virgil started rooting through his body for the keys. Another robed guy came at me, so I did the worst thing I could think of. I grabbed his groin and I pulled with all my strength. He doubled over and Virgil tossed me the keys.”

               “With this madness going on, the leader had stopped trying to skin me and was now running towards the other two.” Roman took the reins once more. “He flew at Emile with the knife and they engaged in battle. Meanwhile, Virgil freed me, and I took the leader from behind. Emile dodged a stab and the leader fell into his own weapon. I took it from him, and Emile took up his tire iron once more. And.” Roman stopped. “Knowing that we couldn’t go to the police for fear of how deep this madness runs, without any other options. We… we finished them off.”

               “With that done. We sealed the tomb and vowed never to speak of it again.” Emile added. “And then we took Virgil to a hospital.”        

               “I had a collapsed lung.” Virgil added happily.

               The crowd applauded them and even the guide looked impressed. Emile and Virgil were satisfied, but Roman had one more trick left.

               “And,” Roman added, pulling up the hem of his shirt. “Here’s the receipt.”

               He pulled his shirt up to display a long scar that went from his sternum to his navel, well past his navel actually. The scar took the place of the more traditional bellybutton. It was still visible in the evening light. The scar itself was horrid looking. It was jagged, narrow in some places and bore the impression of skin grafts in others. It folded in slightly at his stomach giving a clear picture of how deep it was.

               The crowd gasped. Virgil squeaked in surprise and Emile looked on baffled (and hopefully impressed to be seeing Roman’s physique a second time.) Roman laughed to himself. This had been an excellent improv session and he had managed to both impress his nephew and a rather charming doctor.

               At the end of the tour Roman had done the gentlemanly thing and walked Emile to his car. The three of them laughed about their story telling talents and the tales of terror they wove.

               “Well, this is me.” Emile stopped at his car. “Thanks for walking me to my car. I didn’t want the cult to catch me alone.”

               “Of course not.” Roman agreed.

               “So, stop me if I’m intruding.” Emile started hesitantly. “But how did you get that scar?”

               “It’s far worse than the story.” Roman sighed.

               “Now you have to tell us.” Virgil bopped his shoulder.

               “Ok. I was born a conjoined twin.” Roman sighed. “They had to cut us apart. Remus, that’s my brother, has the same scar. Well, at least a similar one”

               “You both made it? That’s amazing.” Emile looked impressed. “Also, your names are Roman and Remus? Like Romulus and Remus?”

               “I hate it when people get that reference.”

               “Whatever would they have done if you were triplets?” Virgil taunted. “Hey, we all have Italian names.”

               The two adults laughed at Virgil’s observation.

               “Oh.” Emile started. “Would you two like a ride back home? I think Virgil over did it with the walking.”

               “That would be lovely.” Roman lit up slightly.

               “Woo.” Virgil said softly to Roman.

               “Now Virgil,” Roman said as he buckled his seat belt. “What would you normally do if a stranger offered you a ride home?”

               “Fight him to the death.” Virgil said plainly.

               “Ok, the correct answer is to say no and run away.” Roman disregarded that comment.

               They pulled into the driveway and saw that Patton and Logan were home already.

               “Thanks for the ride Dr. Picani.” Virgil said quickly as he darted out of the car.

               He was inside in a flash, no doubt to tell his parents everything he had been up to. Good. Roman exited the car with a bit more grace.

               “Thank you very much for the ride back, Emile.” Roman said graciously.

               “PSHSHHSHH.” Emile swatted the topic out of the air. “It was nothing.”

               There was a pause.

               “I had a good time hanging out with you.” Emile said timidly.

               “I had a good time with you too.” Roman felt himself blush.

               “I know there’s still the court case and everything…” Emile blushed as well. “But after that, when there won’t be any conflict of interest… are you single?”

               “Completely.” Roman answered.      

[1] The dogs are Clifford the Big Red Dog, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Scooby Dooby Doo, Blue from Blue’s Clues, Gir from Invader Zim (Hi Marie Pippins, that one’s for you) and Goddard from Jimmy Neutron

[ladynonsense]

Doomed Ship (ARD Alternate Ending)

Remember when I wrote a perfectly nice ending to A Royal Disgrace, where everyone lived happily ever after? Well, by popular request...here’s a different ending entirely. Diverges at chapter 10. The entirety of Perfect Match 1&2 and TRR3 happened between the end of ARD and this fic.

Pairing: Liam x Damien

Rating: M (I guess...fairly suggestive in parts but no smut)

Words: 5854

Damien bounced his phone in his lap anxiously, waiting for permission to turn it back on.

Finally the plane rolled to a stop, and he pushed the power button, still bouncing it nervously as he waited for it to connect to a network and download his messages.

I can’t wait to see you.

I hate that I can’t be there when you land. I’m sending someone to collect you.

You’re going to love Cordonia.

God I’ve missed you. I’ll see you tonight.

He tucked his phone back into his pocket, trying to fight the goofy grin that was determined to take over his face. Visiting the Cordonian royal palace was well outside of his comfort zone, but in a few short hours it was going to be more than worth it.

A familiar face met him at the terminal, holding a sign with “NAZARIO” printed in neat black letters. “Hey, Bastien! Good to see you again.”

Bastien nodded. “Good to see you, Mr. Nazario. I’ve been asked to escort you to the palace.”

He followed him out of the terminal to where his black armoured SUV was waiting. “Can’t say I expected to get the king’s personal bodyguard as my ride.”

Bastien held the door for him before getting into the driver’s seat himself. “Your safety during your visit is of utmost importance to His Majesty.”

He chuckled quietly to himself. This was too weird. He’d been mentally preparing for weeks to walk into Liam’s world, but it still felt surreal to be in a strange country as a guest of the royal family. “So we’re heading straight to the palace?”

“Yes,” Bastien answered. “A room has been prepared for you there.”

“Great.” He pulled out his phone to text Liam.

I’m on my way to the palace.

He stared at the screen nervously waiting for a response.

You’d better be.

Fuck. He bit his lip, ducking down so Bastien wouldn’t see his face in the rearview mirror. His face -- and, for that matter, the rest of him -- couldn’t be trusted not to respond involuntarily when Liam was feeling flirty.

When will I see you?

He saw three little dots appear and then disappear, over and over. Finally…

Soon, Love. I have one more quick meeting and then I’m yours.

His stomach did a little flip. Liam had been calling him that more often lately, and he’d yet to acknowledge it. As much as he cared for him, he couldn’t tell him he loved him, not now. Not when their future...hell, even their present...just seemed impossible.

A “doomed ship,” Kai called it once, when he was being drunk and careless and mean. Damien had to ask Sloane later what that meant. He hated that the words stuck in his brain, coming to mind every time he tried and failed to envision a life with the man he--

Fuck.

He tucked his phone into his pocket, focusing instead on the Cordonian scenery, barely visible through the deeply tinted windows at night. He could see the lights of the palace, now, though. Bathed in warm floodlights, it looked like something out of a fairy tale. For some reason his first thought upon seeing it was to wonder whether he would be able to wear his shoes inside. Were his socks matching today?

Stop being an idiot.

They were met by a porter at the door, who insisted on carrying his one modest carry-on bag to his room for him. The palace corridors were wide and ornately decorated, with oil portraits of past kings and queens adorning the walls. Damien read the names as they walked, none of them ringing any bells until he saw a handsome and stately older man in somewhat more modern dress. King Constantine. Liam’s father, who had been killed in an attack on the palace just a month prior. So many late night conversations, listening quietly as Liam had tried to talk through his feelings, his voice cracking with grief. Trying to fight back the feeling of panic knowing that Liam was the intended target...knowing he was too far away to protect him.

It felt so real now, seeing the portrait here, the date of his death freshly engraved beneath. He could imagine Liam wandering these halls, stopping here to stare, to try to feel a connection to what he lost.

He hoped to see a portrait of Liam next, imagining how regal he would look rendered on canvas like the others. But the next painting he came to was a coastal landscape.

Apparently this hall belonged to the dead kings only.

---------------------------------------------------

Liam sat in his office talking about nothing of any specific importance with the visiting trade minister, focusing all his attention on smiling and making eye contact, keeping up the appearance of a good host.

Internally he chastised himself for not cancelling this meeting outright. Yesterday it had seemed so important to prove to himself that Damien’s visit wouldn’t interfere with his regular schedule. Now it seemed pointless. All he could think about was Damien all alone in his room at the other end of the palace, waiting.

The longer the meeting dragged on, the more his longing morphed into anxiety. Had he made it to his room OK? Had he found something to eat? Was he angry at how long he was having to wait?

“Will you excuse me a minute? I just need to attend to something.” The minister looked on in surprise as Liam stood and left the room, finding Bastien outside the door. “Could you have the kitchen send a meal up to my guest, please? If he hasn’t already requested something himself?”

Bastien nodded. “Anything in particular?”

“Something good. Your favourite. And a bottle of rum.”

“And should I let him know when to expect you?”

Liam glanced down at his watch anxiously. “Soon. I’ll be there before he’s done his meal. In fact, send my meal there as well.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

---------------------------------------------------

Damien was beyond relieved when dinner was delivered to his door. He’d just spent 45 minutes trying to figure out what the food situation at the palace was, finally resigning himself to starvation before two plates of ravioli showed up at his door.

Two...that was odd. He wondered if he should wait for Liam to show up, but he was too hungry to hold onto that idea for long.

He was just finishing his meal when he heard another knock at the door.

Liam’s smile on the other side of the door knocked the wind right out of him.

“Hello, Damien.” He stepped forward tentatively, just barely crossing the threshold.

He looked good. As flawless as ever, really, and wearing a dark grey three-piece suit that made him look even more delicious than the last time he’d seen him. He wore stylish reading glasses that caused some sort of short-circuit in Damien’s brain for reasons he couldn’t entirely explain. “Fff-- fuuuu--”

Liam stepped closer, his brow knit with concern. “Are you OK?”

He realized he must look like he was having a stroke. Death by King Liam in a well-cut suit. No more attempts at words. He pulled Liam into the room by his tie, kicking the door shut after him, and pulled his lips against his own roughly.

When they finally broke apart, Liam chuckled warmly. He took off his glasses and tucked them into his jacket pocket. “You smudged them.”

“And I’m gonna crush them if you leave them in there. Take off your jacket.”

“Yes, sir.” He obliged, hanging it carefully in the closet while Damien waited. Liam glanced at him over his shoulder and smirked before slowly removing his vest, then sat in a wingback chair to remove his shoes.

“Take your time, Your Majesty,” Damien groaned.

Liam smiled brightly. “I will, thank you.” He loosened his tie, slipping it over his head and hanging it on the doorknob before slowly making his way back to where Damien stood next to the bed. “Hey,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around him and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I missed you.”

Damien swallowed hard, melting against him. “I missed you too. So much. You have no idea.”

“I have some idea.” His kiss was gentle and patient and perfect. For the first time in months, Damien felt warm, safe, secure…home. How did he feel so at home in such a strange, foreign place?

He knew how. “Liam,” he sighed, need creeping into his voice. He sat down on the bed, Liam following him, leaning down over him to kiss him again.

He pushed Damien down, settling down against him, straddling his hips. “Damien, I love you.”

Damien frowned, propping himself up on his elbows. “Liam…”

“I know you’re not ready to say it. And we have a lot to talk about. But I can’t have that conversation without you knowing that I love you. It’s…” his voice cracked briefly with emotion, and he cleared his throat. “It’s important. It’s the most important thing.”

He stared up into Liam’s eyes, speechless. God, he was beautiful. And he did…care about him. So much. But… “Can we table this discussion for the moment? Please?”

“Mmm…” he sat back on his heels, unbuttoning his shirt. “...for a moment.”

---------------------------------------------------

“I don’t know about you,” Liam panted, reluctantly pulling away from Damien’s naked body, “but I really need a drink.”

“Good thing somebody sent up a bottle of rum.” Damien sat up against the ornate headboard, pulling the sheet up to his waist.

Liam grabbed the bottle and poured the smooth amber liquid into two crystal tumblers. “Somebody must be very thoughtful. And probably very handsome.”

“And certainly very humble.” Damien accepted the drink gratefully, meeting Liam’s eyes for a long moment as their fingers brushed. He blushed and looked away.

“You weren’t so bashful a few minutes ago.” Liam settled back into the bed, sliding his legs against Damien’s beneath the sheets. He grinned as Damien closed his eyes and shuddered with pleasure.

“It’s hard to forget that you’re a king here. I mean...in your palace. In your country.”

Liam winced, pulling away from him. “Do you need to forget who I am to want to be with me?”

Damien groaned, reaching out for him, but Liam brushed his hand away. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean then. You told me you would never want me to abdicate.”

“And I meant it. This is who you are. I get that.”

“But you don’t like it.” His face felt hot. He knew he shouldn’t be getting emotional but...how could he not? Seeing Damien again was intense. Frighteningly intense, having him here, in his real, everyday life. And if he didn’t like it, couldn’t accept it...that hurt. More than he wanted to admit.

He reached out for him again; Liam didn’t have the strength to deny his affection a second time. Damien wrapped his arm around him, pulling him close. “It’s not that. I guess I just...don’t know how I fit in.” He looked like he had more to say, but he went quiet, staring blankly at the wall while his fingers tapped out a nervous rhythm on Liam’s shoulder.

Liam sighed, not sure what to say. “I guess I should let you get some sleep.”

Damien’s hand on his shoulder tightened. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“That was the idea.”

“I want you to stay. Please.”

It was terribly improper to stay. His guards, at least, would certainly notice. Regina might too. But the thought of just curling up next to Damien and going to sleep was incredibly tempting. “I didn’t bring pyjamas or...anything.”

A wicked grin spread across Damien’s face. “I wasn’t planning on asking you to put clothes on.”

He never was any good at denying Damien what he wanted.

---------------------------------------------------

“Riley?” Damien had been trying to sleep off his jet lag after Liam left in the morning when he was surprised to find his newlywed ex at his door.

“Rise and shine! Were you still sleeping?”

He groaned. “It’s like 3am in New York.”

“Yeah, well.” She threw open the curtains, letting the late morning sunlight stream in. “You’re not in New York; you’re in Cordonia.”

“I noticed.” He pulled his robe tighter around himself. “I’m uh, not dressed.”

“Put some clothes on; I’m taking you to lunch. You’re not going to spend the whole day sulking around waiting for Liam.”

Riley summoned a car for them and took him into the city, dragging him along to various designer boutiques where he gave feedback on all manner of extravagant dresses while avoiding even looking at the menswear that was well beyond his budget.

She eventually got fed up with him and started perusing the menswear herself. “Come on dude, I know you didn’t bring anything nice enough for the ball tonight. Try this on!”

Damien frowned as he took the hangers from her. “I did bring a formal suit, you know. I’ve been to fancy galas before.”

“I guarantee this is nicer than whatever you brought. Liam will love it.”

He ran his thumb over the soft fabric of the shirt she’d picked out. It did look nice. “OK, I’ll try it on.” He went into a change room and looked over the ensemble more closely. A simple black suit, with a black shirt and tie. Nothing too flashy, but...damn. It looked great on him.

Someone knocked on the change room door. “How’s it going in there?” Riley called.

“Great, just...shit.” He looked at the price tag on the suit and nearly fainted. “Riley, there’s no way I can afford this.”

“Shut up and let me see.”

“No, I can’t--”

“It’s my ‘welcome to Cordonia’ present for you, OK? They pay me way too much for this duchess thing anyway.”

Damien sighed, reluctantly stepping out of the change room. “I do love it. You really think it’ll make an impression on Liam? Should I try something...flashier?”

Riley stood back to take him in, grinning. “No...you wearing this will be more than enough to blow him away.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “Do they have a shorter length in the pants? The fit’s a little off.”

“Don’t worry about that one bit,” a man he hadn’t noticed was standing behind him interrupted. “We can take care of any alterations.”

“Oh...great. Thank you.” He stood in front of the mirror as the tailor pinned him in several places he didn’t expect before changing back into the clothes he’d brought.

Riley led him out of the shop and to an open-air cafe selling espresso and gelato. “We’ve got a few hours to kill while they make those alterations. Anything you want to do on your first full day in Cordonia?”

He leaned back in his seat with a contented sigh, enjoying a spoonful of vanilla gelato. “Honestly? A relaxed day with a friend seems perfect.”

She smiled, spooning strawberry sorbet daintily into her mouth. “Sixteen flavours, and you chose vanilla.”

Damien shrugged. “Vanilla’s underrated. It’s delicious.”

“You know, literally the only other person I’ve ever heard say that was Liam.”

Damien didn’t bother trying to hide his wide, goofy grin. “Yeah?”

Riley rolled her eyes. “Yeah. You two are...I don’t know. It’s like you’re soulmates.”

“Can I ask you something serious?” He leaned forward, lowering his voice.

“Yeah...sure.”

“Are you still upset with me for...uh...stealing him?”

Riley let out a sharp bark of laughter but collected herself quickly, giving his hand a squeeze. “No, I’m not upset. I mean...it wasn’t your finest moment, or his. But I was fooling around too, so I can’t exactly stay up on my high horse here.” She fiddled with her wedding band. “I loved Liam, but I think I knew by that point that Drake was the love of my life. I just hope you two can be as happy together as we are.”

Damien gave a small nod, staring at the bottom of his gelato cup. “Right.”

“Do you...not want that?”

He let out a long breath, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess I’m afraid to want something that seems impossible.”

She frowned. “Don’t give up on him.”

---------------------------------------------------

Liam didn’t usually agonize too much over his clothes, but dressing for this particular ball was stressing him out. It was a charity ball, raising money for lung cancer research in honor of his father, so all eyes would be on him even more than usual.

And Damien would be there.

He settled on the royal blue tux, figuring he should stand out without looking too stuffy or superior. Plus, it meant Damien wouldn’t have to fuss with a formal sash when he took it off of him later.

When he got to the ballroom a line of nobles waited in the hall outside to be announced as they entered. He scanned the line quickly, searching for Damien and Riley, but didn’t spot them. Disappointed, he retreated to a corner behind one of his guards and waited to be the last to enter.

“Do you always hide in a dark corner outside your own party?” He looked up to see Damien, standing before him dressed in a beautifully tailored black suit.

“Damien.” He waved his guard off and wrapped his arms around Damien, squeezing him tightly. “Did Riley take good care of you today? I’m sorry I was unavailable. God, you look good.”

He blushed adorably. “Um...thanks. You too. And don’t sweat it; I knew what I was getting into when I came here.” He backed away but gave Liam’s hand a small squeeze before releasing him completely. “Should I stick with her for the rest of the night? I don’t know what to expect in there.”

“Yes. You’ll be seated with her and Drake for the meal. After that, come find me. I want to show you something.”

Damien’s eyebrows shot up.

“That’s not what I want to show you.”

He laughed. “OK, fine. I’ll come find you. I’m going to jump back in line...I’ll see you soon?”

“Absolutely.”

After the speeches, toasts, calls for donations, and finally the meal, Liam started scanning the ballroom for Damien immediately. He found him still seated with Riley and Drake, talking and laughing over drinks. “Mind if I join you?”

“Be our guest, Your Majesty,” Drake said, pulling out a chair for him.

Liam laughed. “What’s with the formality?”

“He’s obsequious when he’s drunk,” Riley answered for him. “And he is most definitely drunk.”

“Guilty as charged,” Drake confirmed with a small hiccup.

Liam laid a hand on his shoulder. “Well, I’m going to take the police officer away before you get yourself into too much trouble, OK?”

Damien rolled his eyes. “I haven’t been a cop in years.”

“Once a narc, always a narc,” Riley teased. “Get out of here.”

Liam led Damien around the edges of the dance floor, disappearing out a side door into the hidden palace courtyard. It was empty other than the guard who followed them out, discreetly turning to face back towards the ballroom.

He pressed Damien up against the wall and kissed him fiercely, letting his hands roam under his jacket and wrap around his back. Months of longing from afar had driven him crazy with lust for this man, and now he had him, finally in his arms.

And then he pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” He panted, still breathless.

Damien looked around nervously. “Shouldn’t we be a little more discreet? After, you know...everything that happened.”

Liam started to close the distance between them, but stopped when he saw Damien’s obvious discomfort. “That was different. I was engaged. You don’t have to be a scandal any more.”

He led him towards the fountain, sitting on the edge. Damien wrung his hands nervously. “What do you mean by that? You want to go public with our relationship? Subject our private lives — my private life — to all that scrutiny?”

Liam felt sick to his stomach. This was not how he wanted the night to go, but this discussion had to happen. “I won’t force you into the spotlight if you’re not comfortable with it. But I can’t stay single forever. I need to start a family for the stability of the crown.”

“Exactly. A family.” The distance between them seemed to keep increasing, like he was slipping away right before his eyes. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved with you, Liam. You could’ve married Riley...she would’ve been your perfect queen and given you lots of perfect little heirs. I ruined all of that for you.”

“I’m not in love with Riley. I’m in love with you.”

“Stop saying that.”

“No.” He reached out to hold Damien’s trembling hand. “Stop trying to tell me what I want. I want you here. With me.”

“That’s...you know...you know how much you mean to me. But this isn’t what you need. Or what’s expected of you. Or...I mean...I’m not here, with you, I mean I am right now, but…”

“So come live here.”

“Fuck, Liam.”

“Is that not what we’re working towards? I can come to New York maybe once a year. That’s not enough for me. Is it enough to you?”

Damien buried his face in his hands. “No. It’s not.”

“So…” Liam spoke slowly, carefully. “Come live here. Be with me.”

Damien wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You’re not...out.”

There it was. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Yes. Don’t act like it’s nothing.”

“I know it’s not nothing, but it’s something I need to do.” He felt shy suddenly, but forced himself to meet Damien’s eyes, which welled up with tears.

“You don’t, though.”

“I...what?”

“Just...don’t, Liam. Just find a nice girl and make her your queen. I’m not worth this. You’re too important, and I’m just…”

“Are you seriously telling me I need to just shut up and pretend to be straight?”

Damien blinked at him, his mouth hanging open in surprise. “Obviously that’s not what I think, but…”

“Yes, it is. You’re the one saying it.”

“I know you should be able to be open about this, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea right now.”

Liam’s head was spinning. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting but...not this. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I’ll be heading back inside now.”

“Liam…” Damien stood as if to follow him, but seemed to freeze in place, staring at his shoes.

Liam left.

---------------------------------------------------

Damien was up all night, the mix of stress and jet lag ensuring he had plenty of time to lie around hating himself.

Coming to Cordonia was a mistake, that much was clear. He’d been weak and stupid, wanting to see Liam so badly he’d barely considered what it actually meant for them.

The doomed ship had always been sinking. Coming here had only sped things up.

And now he’d hurt the kindest man he’d ever known, the one most deserving of...fuck...the one he loved. He felt like he might vomit if he weren’t so completely hollow.

He finally fell asleep well after sunrise, pillow over his head to block out the mocking morning sun.

The knocking began what felt like minutes later, although the clock insisted four hours had passed. He tried to ignore it.

“Let me in, idiot!” Riley’s voice called through the door.

With a groan he pulled himself up out of bed. He wrapped himself in his robe and opened the door.

“Dude, you look terrible.” Riley walked right past him, making herself comfortable on top of his unmade bed. “Rough night, I hear.”

He sat next to her, flopping sideways to let his head rest in her lap. “Rough year.”

She ran her hand over his back a few times before tangling her fingers in his hair to massage his scalp. “I’m taking you to lunch, OK? I have a friend I want you to meet.”

Damien sighed and sat back up, his hair wild from Riley’s hands in it. “Does your friend know about Liam dumping me?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “We all know, yeah. It was a rough night for him too.”

“Is he OK?”

“He’s supported and loved but no, he’s not OK.” She stood up from the bed, smoothing her dress. “Get dressed. I’ll be right outside the door. Don’t take forever.”

They headed into the city again. It was a beautiful spring day, and the streets were bustling with tourists and weekend markets. They left the car and walked through a few narrow pedestrian-only streets to find a cozy little hole-in-the-wall bakery. Riley secured a small beef-filled pastry for him and a bacon sandwich for herself before they settled at an outdoor table to wait for her friend.

“This is delicious,” Damien marvelled, his mouth still full of warm pastry. “Cordonia’s going to make me fat.”

Riley patted her perfectly lovely tummy. “I’ve gained fifteen pounds. Having my own kitchen staff seemed like such a good opportunity to always have healthy home-cooked meals, but in reality I can’t resist the easy access to pasta.”

“Right? That pasta at the palace was unreal. Liam must be a man of incredible restraint to still look like he does with unlimited access to food like that.”

“Well, he has other vices.”

They both went quiet, the mood suddenly turning awkward. Damien was just finishing up his pastry when a tall figure showed up seemingly out of nowhere, casting a shadow over him. He looked up to see a stern redhead glaring at him with her hands on his hips.

“So what’s so great about this one?” She said, looking only at Riley.

Riley smiled. “Damien, meet Olivia. Olivia, Damien.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Olivia insisted.

“I’m not great,” Damien answered. “I’m just trying to make a graceful exit and I’ll get out of Liam’s life for good, OK? Is that what you want to hear?”

Olivia grabbed a chair from another table and pulled it over, grabbing the half-eaten sandwich out of Riley’s hand as she sat down. “No. Try again.”

“Excuse me?”

“Olivia is one of Liam’s oldest and closest friends,” Riley explained, looking mournfully after her sandwich as Olivia started to devour it. “She’s a little protective.”

She held up a finger while swallowing the last of Riley’s sandwich, then continued. “This one already broke his heart…” Riley blushed a little, hiding her face, “And now I see him all fucked up over another American...what is it with him and Americans? Anyway, the way he was last night…” She slammed her first down on the flimsy metal table, making everyone on the street stop and look at them. “You need to fix it. Today.”

Damien stared at her in shock. “I...um…”

“Damien,” Riley interjected, her voice soft and gentle. “Liam is the most beloved person in this entire country. We’re all…” she gestured at the crowds of people milling about on the streets, “all rooting for him. You say you’ve had a rough year...imagine what it’s been like for him. The responsibility that was thrust on him. All the attempts on his life. Losing his father.” She took a deep breath and let out a sad sigh. “Having the woman he loved leave him for his best friend. These past two months he’s been so strong, and I know it’s because he was leaning on you the whole time. I guess we’re struggling to understand why you held him up for so long only to come here and break his heart.”

“I didn’t...what did he tell you guys? He broke up with me.”

Olivia crossed her arms over her chest, staring him down. He tried to stare back confidently, but she was truly terrifying. “Well, he told us that you resisted any talk of a future together and told him to deny his sexuality and ‘just find a nice girl’.”

“OK well when you say it like that…”

“It sounds fucking terrible?” Riley offered. “If you don’t want to be with him that’s your prerogative, but you don’t get to tell Liam how to live his life.”

“The rules are different for him…” Damien said weakly, “...right?”

Olivia stood up again, looming over him. “He makes the rules. The rest of Cordonia follows his lead. If he wants to stand up and say he’s bisexual and that the rules of succession are going to have to accommodate that fact then, well, that’s a rather personal issue for me and I would be thankful to him for it. How about you?”

“Of course,” he whispered, his face hot with shame. “Of course I want that.”

“Damien,” Riley laid her hand on his arm, her eyes searching his face, “Do you love him?”

He swallowed hard. “So much.”

“Then fix it.”

---------------------------------------------------

Liam was struggling.

He’d hardly slept, spending most of the night surrounded by his friends, drinking scotch but not as much as he wanted to. All day he’d felt like he was sleepwalking through his work, going into meetings with red swollen eyes, being asked countless times if he was feeling OK.

He was most definitely not feeling OK.

Now dinner had arrived, and he was eating alone in his office as usual. But he had no appetite. He pushed the food around on his plate for several minutes before giving up and scraping it into the trash.

Damien was here for two more days, but he might as well be gone already. He made it clear he thought their relationship was a mistake. If he’d known that it would all end so fast, he wouldn’t have spent a second of the past two days away from him. Was that why Damien thought they couldn't be together? Because he’d been too busy with work? He should’ve made more time for him. Stupid. Stupid.

A knock came at his door and he dabbed at his moist eyes with a handkerchief, trying to pull it together before the steward came in to remove his dinner dishes. “Come in!” he called, trying to keep his voice steady.

All the oxygen in the room seemed to disappear as Damien walked into the study. “Hey, Liam.”

“Oh...hi, Damien.” He stood and walked around to the front of his desk. “I didn’t expect you.”

“Yeah...we need to talk.”

“I’m so sorry,” Liam blurted out. “I’m sorry if I came on too strong...I shouldn’t have pushed you harder than you were ready for, and I should’ve made for time for you, and I should’ve visited you, and…”

“Liam, stop.” Damien took a tentative step towards him, reaching out to brush his tear-streaked cheek. “Please don’t apologize.”

“I’m so bad at this,” he stammered. “I don’t know how to date.”

Damien took both of his hands. “I don’t care. I’m in love with you.”

Did he hear that right? “You...what?”

And then Damien’s arms were wrapped tight around him, pulling their bodies flush together as his kiss swallowed Liam’s surprised moan. He brought his hands to Damien’s waist, holding him lightly, afraid to move in case he scared him off somehow. After a long moment Damien broke the kiss, nuzzling his face into Liam’s neck as he caught his breath. “I love you so much, Liam. I don’t want to lose you.”

He was so relieved he was afraid to respond. But… “I don’t want to continue like this. I want to be together for real.”

Damien nodded, leaning back to look him in the eye. “I’ll need some time to wrap up my business at home, but I can come here. I can set up shop here…”

“You can’t. I mean...you can’t be a private investigator here; you’ll be too much of a public figure. I need you to understand that. But I’m sure your skills will be useful to the guard, or the police, or intelligence...we’ll find something, if you want to work. And you can live here, if that’s OK with you. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“OK. We can figure all that out.”

“Yeah?”

He kissed some softly, lovingly. “Yeah.”

“Damien...I want to marry you.”

“Was that a proposal?”

“No. I can do better.”

He kissed him again, each one somehow more perfect than the last. “I can’t imagine anything better than this moment.”

Liam backed him up until his knees hit the back of the couch. “I can.”

---------------------------------------------------

Damien sat snuggled against Liam on the couch in his study, the two of them wrapped up in a blanket that he’d produced from a cabinet. “You spend the night here often?”

Liam nodded, pulling Damien’s face in to rest against his naked chest. “My chambers are a little depressing. Half the time I don’t bother going home.”

“Mmm, I get that. I’ve been known to sleep at the office too.”

“Things are going to be different when you move here.”

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of Liam’s heart beating. “Are you nervous?”

He hesitated for a moment. “A little. I’m not entirely sure how people will react.”

“Your friends all seem to know about us already.”

“Yes. My step-mother and the other nobles might not be as open-minded, though.”

“Mmm.” He wrapped his arms tightly around Liam’s waist. “I came out to my family in high school.”

Liam stroked his hair. “How’d that go?”

“Could’ve been worse. My mom said she loved and supported me...and that she was fine with me ‘experimenting’ but hoped that I would marry a woman someday.”

“Ah. So, basically what you said to me last night.”

“I’m so sorry, Liam.”

Liam kissed the top of his head. “I know. And I’m sorry she didn’t entirely get it. Do you think she’ll be disappointed in you now?”

“Oh, no, she’s going to love you.” He hesitated, unsure if he should go on. “I had a really bad time a few years back. I...went through something really traumatic. Left my job. Lost my girlfriend, who I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. It was rough. And my mother...I couldn’t face her after that relationship ended. I felt like she was going to be so disappointed in me.”

“I’m sorry, Damien.”

“No, it’s...it was just me, letting my own insecurity put up walls. Kai pushed me to reconnect with her recently. I told her about you. I mean, I didn’t tell her who you were, but I told her I’d met somebody. She was happy for me.”

“I can’t wait to meet her.” Liam nudged him to sit up, reaching for his own clothes. “And in that vein...I have an idea how to spend the rest of our day, if you’re up for it.”

Damien reluctantly started to dress himself. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Want to go see the look on your future mother-in-law’s face when I tell her about my boyfriend?”

He chuckled, pulling Liam back in for a quick kiss. “Absolutely.”

Tags: @hustacks @hopefulmoonobject @brightpinkpeppercorn @choiceslife @perriewinklenerdie @pixieferry @nazariobae @zaffrenotes @ritachacha @h3llostrang3r @blackcoffee85 @wannabemc2 @sleepwalkingelite @debramcg1106 @furiousherringoperatortoad @bobasheebaby @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @jlouise88

[crazynekochan]

(Omegaverse) So What Will the couples (Tenmiko, Soudam, Saimoto, Komahina, Toukomaru, Naegami, Kiibouma, Sonkiri) child Personality, Looks, Name, and Dynamic be?

I’ve been thinking about this for about 2 ½ hours now and since this is so hard to answer like this, I decided to answer this ask by talking about my LoveChildren OCs that I designed for my An Idiot in Love AU, instead of making new characters from scratch which would be quite a lot of work and take even more time

I know that this is probably not what you meant, but I take very long with planing characters since I always go a lot into detail with them ^^” And frankly I’m too lazy to make another bunch of Lovechildren for the same characters

Tenmiko: I didn’t finish the design for their child yet. Only thing I can say for now is that their child is tiny as Himiko. I’m very torn between making the child a cute omega girl or an alpha boy, or maybe even bothHowever what is decided on is that their child will be the Ultimate Circus Performer

Soudam: These are the only two where I have their portraits actually drawn, so if you want to see them, feel free to ask

They have twins, a beta girl named Noriko Tanaka [儀(nori) “ceremony,rites”, 子(ko)“child”] and a omega boy called Noriyuki Tanaka [儀(nori)“ceremony, rites”, 由(yu)“reason, cause”, 貴(ki)“valuable”]. The girl is the Ultimate Motorcyclist and the boy the Ultimate Spiritual Medium

Noriko has Gundham’s grey eyes and Kazuichi’s natural black hair and also his skin tone. She also wears glasses. Her hair is kept short and goes a bit over her one eye. It’s also as smooth as Gundham’s hairNoriyuki has the opposite colour pallet, which Kazuichi catlike brown eyes, and Gundham’s hair and skin tone. He also has Kaz’s wild hair, which he later on has as a sidecut with longer bangs. He also has slightly sharper teeth (again pictures are available for them if you want) 

Noriko is a quiet person, however she is highly adventures and has no problems with breaking rules sometimes. She looks like a sweet angel and the “good” twin, but she tends to get into trouble a lot. But she’s very loyal and loves her friends. A bit more of an introvert. She also owns a pet birdNoriyuki is very cheerful and positive of a person. However he is very clumsy and a bit too carefree. He often hurts himself by doing something that just screams dangerous, but then continues like nothing happened. He is surprisingly outgoing and tends to make a lot of friends. He also has a pet turtle, however he originally wanted a pet crocodile but Kaz intervened in the last moment before Gundham could actually get one. But he loves his turtle and calls it his assistantThe twins are also very close and are inseparable. Noriko will also protect her baby brother with her life, even if he is only a few minutes younger

I could go way more into detail for these two, since they are the first ones I made, but I will stop at this point to not make the post too long

Saimota: For them I didn’t start an OC yet at all, because when I began the planing of my OCs I hadn’t decided yet with whom I would pair Shuichi in the fic. And at the moment I can’t think up a good character because as I mentioned I tend to go very much into detail with OCs ^^”The only thing I have until now is that they will probably be the Ultimate Spy

Komahina: They have a alpha son by the name Kazuki Komaeda [和(kazu)“harmony, peace”, 希(ki) “hope”]. He does however not have a talent

Kazuki has Hajime’s skin colour and also his eyes. However he has very light brown hair (I hc that Nagito originally had light brown hair, like the tips of his hair) which is slightly more fluffy

Kazuki is a very well-behaved and level-headed person. He is also quite studious and diligent, which he got from Hajime. Unlike his parents he doesn’t really care much for talents, making him a bit of an odd one out. He is also Noriyuki’s best friend

Naegami: I in fact gave them three children. The oldest is Hideyoshi Togami [秀(hide)“excellent, outstanding”, 吉(yoshi)“good luck”] and he is an alpha boy. The second oldest is a beta boy named Haruka Togami [春(haru)“spring”. 香(ka)“fragrance”]. The youngest is an omega girl named Mayu Togami [真(ma) “real,genuine”, 優(yu)“excellence, superiority, gentleness”]Only Hideyoshi has an SHSL title and is the new Ultimate Affluent Progeny. Haruka is only 15 and Mayu only 3, so they don’t have a title yet

Hideyoshi looks a lot like Makoto. He is quite small, has Makoto’s brown hair and also his skin colour. He does however have Byakuya’s blue eyes and wears glasses. He also dresses a lot in suits, but they are always messy looking with the shirt not tucked in or the jacket not fully buttoned upHaruka is the opposite colour pallet as his older brother and is also quite tall. He has Togami’s light skin and blond hair, but Makoto’s brown eyes. He also has slightly longer hair that goes to his shoulders, which he always ties up in a bun. He’s quite stylish with his clothingMayu comes a lot after Byakuya, with light skin, blond hair and blue eyes. However she has Makoto’s face

Hideyoshi is highly intelligent and overall skilled person. He is also very well behaved and very quiet of a person. However he is a huge scatterbrain. He is constantly working on something in his head and then fails the most basic things, like dressing himself properly or remembering that he has food on the stove. He is also good friends with Songiri’s childHaruka is very unlike his parents. He is a very charming person and a bit flirty in a harmless way (he likes making people feel good about themselves). He is also very interested in fashion. He helps his brother a lot and makes sure that he doesn’t kill himself by accident ^^”. (He is also still in planing)Mayu doesn’t have much of a character yet due to being a baby. She is just as cheerful as Makoto is and a very curious and well-behaved child. However she has no sense of danger at all

Kiibouma: Still in planning, but here are a few things that are decided on

They have a son, however no dynamic decided on yet. Same with his name. I’m also deciding if they should be a human conceived through a donor or if Ibadashi build them a robot child like Kiibo is. Or I might even do both and make more than one child.Talent wise I’m either using Ultimate Trickster or Ultimate Hacker

He has Kokichi’s dark purple hair and his skin colour. However no matter if human or not, he has light blue eyes in a similar colour to Kiibo (he was originally a robot, thus the similar colour). He also wears makeup on his eyes that look like two green lines going from his eyebrow to his cheek, like a jester. He also always wears white and a cape, slightly inspired by DICE

His personality is still in planing

Songiri: They have an alpha daughter named Hitomi Nevermind Kirigiri [史(hito)“history”, 美(mi)“beautiful”]. Due to being an alpha her talent is the Ultimate Prince, and not Princess

Hitomi looks like a mini version of Kyoko, thus comes fully after her with face, hair and eyes. She even has the same neutral expression and smirk (Sonia tends to squeal about the fact that her daughter and her wife look so alike) She usually has part of her hair in a ponytail tied with a bow, while the rest falls. The length is a bit past her shoulders

Hitomi is very well-behaved like expected from royalty and also highly intelligent. She is however very quiet and hardly talks and mainly listens to people. This and the fact that she tries to stay nice to everyone including people she doesn’t like, makes it hard to tell what she is thinking about people. While she decided on becoming the future ruler instead of becoming a detective, she often helps Kyoko with her cases by giving her input. Hideyoshi is her best friend

(I tried to keep the answer as short as I can and not ramble too much about my OCs. I have in fact a few more Lovechildren for LeoSaya, Ishimondo, Kuzupeko and for Chihiro with a nameless character, while more are planed. So if you are interested, feel free to ask)

[ghostflowerdreams]

What Is The Time Period In The Devil May Cry Series?

From what I’ve gathered the Devil May Cry series takes place in a Retro Universe -- basically where retro, vintage or antiquated technology, styles and aesthetics are still used, but which otherwise is or at least resembles The Present Day. Often cultural styles from different time periods are mixed and matched, usually with those that date no later than The '60s or so.

This makes sense as the technology in the series varies. For example, in Dante’s office he has a rotary phone, a boombox, a jukebox and a old color TV (in the anime). Later on in the series Nero shows up with some modernized-looking cordless headphones. This makes it hard to pin point the time period with just the few pieces of technology we’ve seen in the series. There’s also the possibility that Dante is just too poor to upgrade (or he doesn’t bother with it because his stuff keep getting broken every time). But that doesn’t explain why the rest of the DMC world isn’t up-to-date with modern inventions either. 

In Devil May Cry 5 each of the characters used telephone booths to make their calls. But when Nero was at the fancy-looking hotel, he made his call with a rotary phone. However, with Nico in order to receive those calls from him, she used what looked like one of those first ever mobile phone (which probably took hours to charge, lasted 35 minutes or so, and cost a lot too). Or it could have been a satellite phone? At that point, it was clear that the DMC world isn’t modeled after a particular time period and it’s not going for realism either. 

After all, modern cell phones would have been a thing for them by now and even computers. Instead, it borrow things from different time periods to create a retro and aesthetic pleasing game for us to enjoy. With a bit of digging around I also found out that Hiroyuki Kobayashi (the producer of DMC1, DMC4 and the DMC:TAS) once stated in an interview that the DMC world is very much like ours and it has phones -- just not cellphones. I can’t find the original article, but there was another old article that had a similar discussion with him about it...

Hiroyuki Kobayashi: In Devil May Cry [series character Dante's] office, they do have a phone, but it's a black analog kind of phone. That feeling of what the world is like is something that we really want to protect, so even though it does have phones, we don't want it to be a world where there is a cell phone and you can immediately talk to anyone in the world.

Having said that, it is a world where they do have motorbikes, so creating this mix between high-tech and analog technology -- a world where some things have advanced and some things haven't advanced -- is pretty difficult.

For example, there's a jukebox in Dante's office, but it plays old vinyl records. Some parts of technology have advanced, and some haven't advanced. Keeping that true throughout the series and the game is difficult, and we need to have all the core members on the same page. That is certainly one of the challenges in making the game. Having said that, it is a lot of fun to be able to create this kind of unique world of our own design.

After a little more digging I found more information on this subject and it’s actually a lot more recent too. On the Polygon website, Editor Matt Leone was at Capcom’s San Francisco office during this year’s Game Developers Conference. He met with Devil May Cry 5 director Hideaki Itsuno, senior producer Michiteru Okabe, and producer Matt Walker to discuss DMC5. Source: Devil May Cry 5: The post-mortem interview

Matt Leone [Interviewer]: To a certain degree, the game — and Devil May Cry in general — feels like a kitchen sink of different ideas; a lot of things could fit in the Devil May Cry world. Can you think of any things that have come up that felt too out of bounds for that universe?

Hideaki Itsuno: It’s interesting. I know this isn’t quite the direction you’re going for with that question, but there are things that technically don’t fit in a Devil May Cry, and it generally falls around the sense of style that we have. For instance, it’s not as cool for someone to take out a cell phone and say, “Devil May Cry” [with a normal voice]. But when you have a big landline phone on a desk, you can pick it up and say “Devil May Cry” [with a deep voice]. And that really comes down to the fact that we grew up in a certain era. We grew up in the ’70s and ’80s, before there was technology like this. That sense of style is something that’s been ingrained into us from having grown up in that period. There’s a lot of stuff in the game where they don’t use the latest technology, because from our point of view, this is what’s cool.

Eventually, if we ever have a director on a new Devil May Cry game who is in their 20s or something, they’ll have grown up with completely different stuff. So then the sense of style might change, and you might have stuff where in the game they’re watching YouTube or whatever.

But there’s also kind of that element of, what’s stylish? What we know to be cool is really based on our experiences in the ’70s and ’80s, but then also we have the cool dark hero element. Like with Dante, sure, he doesn’t really do terrible things — he doesn’t kill humans, that kind of thing — but there are dark aspects to him, or to the heroes in these games. Yet really, they’re pure, proper heroes that are very all about justice and protecting.

What got me thinking about all this was because when I was going over my old fanfiction I noticed something, well, more like the lack of something. I was wondering why I was making my original character go to the library to research books for information on the occult when she could’ve just google’d it (or use an equivalent of the search engine). 

But then I realized that it felt out of place if I did that because not once had I ever seen or heard any mention of computers in DMC series (especially in DMC3 as that was the game my fanfiction was focused on). Maybe they do exist, but it was still in the early stages of creation? Or that it wasn’t available for the public and only scientist, military, government or whatnot were the ones using it? I do not know, but books are a valuable source of information and will always be around. So I figured I couldn’t go wrong with having my character do some old-fashion research. 

It also makes sense that when Devil May Cry was first released it was in 2001, so of course that had some influence. At the time of writing this post it’s been 18 years since then and technology has made many advancements and will keep on advancing. But even before that in 1998, after the completion of Resident Evil 3, DMC originally started off as a part of the Resident Evil franchise, under the name "Team Little Devil". Early research and development work included a trip to Spain to examine various castles as a basis for the game's environments. So, of course, that also helped to shape DMC into what it is today. 

I get the feeling that DMC4 to DMC5 is kinda like when the 90s meet 2000s. In which those who live in the era know what it was like to see cassettes and VHS tapes turn into CD-ROMs. Floppy disk to USB flash drives, Walkman/Discman to mp3 or ipods and so on. 

Now, what about cameras? Hm, I do wonder which version of it is fitting for the DMC series. There’s a painted portrait of the whole family in Dante’s childhood home, but on his desk there is a photo of his mother. It might be one of those hand-coloring photograph? I figured because of the clothing they’re wearing looks old-fashion, it may suggest that photography might not have been that common during that time. Paintings were probably popular, but Eva’s photo on Dante’s desk is in color. Maybe it is an actual photo from a camera (the kind that’s not black & white -- film camera possibly)? Unless it’s a small hand-painted portrait of her? 

I’ll research this later. Anyway, these were just my musings that spawn from my old DMC fanfiction. Obviously, I don’t have to be canonically correct but I personally like to do my best in sticking with the source material. That usually means I have to do a bit of research to properly understand whatever peaks my interest and then figured how what I want to do with that information. Sometimes it helps me to better build up the DMC universe in my stories from. I also find that it even helps to make it feel very immersive for my readers.