#tl;dr: I wish I could take as much amusement from this as I want to but I can’t because shit like this is just so fucking normal

[indefiniteavatar]

So basically, in a case about him shoving money at someone so they shut up about him. . .he can’t shut the fuck up himself. I would say something clever and funny here, except the sad part is that this is just so normal in current politics that it’s just. . .not hilariously absurd behavior anymore? Not to say that it’s not absurd - it is beyond such, but it is just. . . predictable, I suppose.

I guess this is how I feel about politics lately? Either I get mad at everything or I try to laugh at everything and normally that works because politicians usually aren’t so tragically stupid so very often, but now I just kinda have to chuckle at the particularly eyeroll worthy things like this, and try to ignore everything else or my brain will explode.

[noraqrosa]

TL;DR: in this post, i wax on about the abandoned concept album/multimedia project Lifehouse by Pete Townshend/The Who in the context of algorithms and artworks

people on Twitter aren't understanding that this is an ad for a scifi novel. it sounds interesting, to a degree.

the first sentence reminds me of [The Who's] Pete Townshend's Lifehouse, still one of the most fascinating musical experiments i've ever read about.

i wish i knew about all that back when the Lifehouse Method website was a thing. for those unaware, it was a site created by Pete in conjunction with composer Lawrence Ball and software developer Dave Snowdon in which someone could input their personal data and generate "authentic musical 'portraits,'" pieces of music customized via algorithms that work based on whatever data you input. if you know anything about The Who, you'll probably recognize this as a facet of what would eventually become the album Who's Next, Lifehouse, a huge multimedia project involving a rock opera album, live performances with audience participation and complex tech on stage, a movie, who knows what else.

https://archive.is/8tYoM

i've always wished i could do one of these "musical portraits." i remember when I first heard about algorithmic (i refuse to call it AI because it isn't true AI) music generators, this was the first thing i thought of. back when they were in a rudimentary state, i played around with one for my own amusement (not for my own music, all that comes from my own head unfortunately for you), and while it was fascinating, it didn't go far enough in the direction i hoped. thinking of OpenAI's MuseNet, it takes a few notes worth of MIDI data & a style suggestion and then kinda randomly guesses what would be a good fit after those notes.

<image sourced from https://gigazine.net/gsc_news/en/20190426-muse-net>

and y'know, it makes for some fun meme videos:

<shoutout to the papaya>

but you can also see it only goes so far, and still requires musical input. it isn't quite on the level of being usable for much. and it really isn't quite the same. it's using inputted data, but not, say, biometric or biographical data. it's musical parameters that are being input as the data.

i really want to one day see a true realization of Lifehouse. one of my wildest goals is to be the one to do that. admittedly, i feel like in the current artistic climate the art world might no longer be ready for it; people would see it, instantly think "AI ART EW," and back away. but in this case, i don't feel like that's a fair assessment of what the concept is. the idea was to find each person's unique signature melody via these musical portraits. it isn't meant for anything really beyond personal identification, when it comes down to it. it fascinates me from a musical standpoint, and as a person who holds a psychology degree. imagine what someone can learn about oneself via this process! would your musical portrait be different at different points in your life? what could you tell about your personality from a single melody, or about your life history, or your beliefs and values? how would all of that reflect in your music? what genre is your soul? could a musical portrait truly capture any of that? with sufficiently advanced tech, sure, but idk if we're there yet.

heck imagine the therapeutic implications! imagine this tech being used in an art/music therapy setting, in which you work with a therapist to input your data, get a melody, and then use that melody with whatever form of musical expression you prefer (e.g. if you prefer to play the piano, guitar, a DAW, etc). what would you and your therapist be able to learn about you?

i truly do believe that, when it comes down to it, everyone has their own musical identification, "a song in their heart" if you will. i wish to expose people's hearts to get that music out, so that people may hopefully understand themselves better.

we might actually be at the level of tech necessary to truly realize a project like Lifehouse, but the tech isn't being used in this way. our current tech relies on predictive algorithms that kinda mostly draw on established musical forms, tradition, and there are only so many notes in the musical alphabet and only so many combinations and permutations thereof. a true realization of this tech would work, say, maybe in a similar way to how Pokémon speedrunners essentially break the game and essentially reprogram it to do what they want via a series of unexpected inputs. arbitrary code execution is what that's called, and i bet a similar function might help greatly in creating a uniquely generated musical portrait. because, when it comes down to it, are we not all Glitch Pokémon who cannot be contained by the boundaries of our programming?

anyway that was a long ramble. feel free to gimme feedback like you're a guitar held up to an amp or feedback like an echo chamber, whichever you prefer. this post idk if it'll make both pro & anti AI people mad or not, but that's what happens when your position on a thing is more complicated than a simple binary.

currently homeless still, so please help me if you can:

My partner's donate links are here: https://linktr.ee/IzukuLeeYoung. that's the best place you can send us money to keep us in our current hotel room and off the street.

https://odiohi.me/pages/product-categories - if you wanna help me by buying my wares (including my music)

To support me directly:

https://ko-fi.com/NoraQRosa

https://cash.app/NoraQRosa

https://patreon.com/NoraQRosa

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

What’s your opinion for Leo’s reaction to finding out the mc was immortal as well- not necessarily a vampire, maybe they’re some other type of supernatural. I’m really curious because Leo seems like he’s mainly in love with the mc bec they are human.

Hi lovely!!! Always wonderful to see you, hope you’re well! 💛💛💛💛💛

Tbh I think my opinion remains the same about something like this? I'm going to link to an ask I wrote up a while ago, only because it's v pertinent to the subject matter and good background for what I’m going to expand on here.

That being said, I'm happy to kind of tl;dr/expand on what I talked about there. Basically I had the feeling that Leonardo choosing MC as a lover was more circumstantial--regarding the state of his life in the moment, regarding his general feelings about vampires and vampire society, and regarding his unresolved trauma as a young kid.

I guess my answer to that question--and forgive me if it seems like a cop out--is that it really depends, I feel? I think his attraction has a lot more to do with the kind of person somebody is, their sensibility, more than it has to do with mortal vs immortal. If it was an immortal MC that showed ridiculous fortitude and self-control, measured patience and maturity, I really don’t see him not noticing that? I think he would be wary at first (assuming it’s all a front) but with time would likely feel a great deal of love if they were interested in a life together. If they were able to see and understand what he needs and answered those needs, I guess I just really doubt his ability to say no. It’s all he’s really looking for, and the fact that he hasn’t found it after so long really speaks to his frightened evasiveness and the rare nature of that kind of unshakeable strength.

I also think a lot of his hinging away from purebloods (true immortals, in other words) is that he 100% does not want his familia having any involvement in his meaningful relationships. Which might be why he shows more acceptance towards turned vampires, or potentially different supernatural beings.

But I also don’t like giving a vague answer without some kind of explanation as to how I got, to that conclusion, so a boatload of analysis follows below the content warning.

Spoilers for Leonardo’s route and a few mentions of JPN ver content:

I think he has less of an obsession with the idea of mortality, and more like a constant association of goodness and freedom and maturity with humanity. And while it's understandable, there are signs that--when he has the proper time and space to heal--his views seem to soften from those extremes. I mean his decision to live with Comte is pretty much his first step in that direction; it was him acknowledging for the first time that vampires aren't inherently loathsome or incapable of normal living. (On a revealing note, I think it says a lot that he agrees with MC that she is living in a “wolves’ den” but also feels the need to clarify the men are basically the domesticated equivalent. They don’t pose the same threat other vampires typically do to humans because of their lifestyle and sire.) Additionally, his tsun-like behavior towards Comte also seems to solidify this concept for me: Leonardo’s trying to come to terms with something he's sworn to reject since he was young, but also can't entirely deny that Comte is as chill and mature as purebloods come lmao

[There was also an event in the JPN ver–which seems to be approaching the ENG version rapidly, though only the first part is here right now–in which Leonardo fully offers to turn her. MC is essentially on her death bed, and Leonardo doesn’t want to lose her after so little time together; it’s MC that rejects the future as a vampire out of sheer principle. Even more noteworthy is that, when a reincarnation of MC is reunited with Leonardo in modern times, he is revealed to be exceptionally shaken by that loss. There are suggestions he can’t take losing her again, which could mean succumbing to the desire to bite her.]

Two things I feel are necessary to hit home:

The first being that, at least within the storyline so far, the most mature and human-like vampires we’ve seen are Leonardo and Comte. They seek to emulate the maturity they see reflected in the human beings they’ve known all their lives. Given how vampire society and their hierarchies work, I get the feeling humans are nothing more than amusing tools to them--a way to survive and creatures to exercise control over. There’s an objectification and delusion that comes with what I’ve seen, and I think it’s important in this discussion? If the vast majority of vampires behave this way (because I’m ngl, Leonardo and Comte don’t seem very keen on remaining in touch with other vampires all that much) then it only makes sense they prefer the company of humans who can at least share this sensibility of “been there, done that--stop hurting people bc you’re bored/repressed, grow up.”

One event story where this was exceedingly evident was actually Leonardo’s proposal story. If y’all remember, an old pal/acquaintance of Leonardo’s finds out he’s gunning for a human woman and basically goes “lmao not on my watch.” His name was Adam iirc, and he felt he had every liberty to try and pressure Leonardo into turning MC. Failing that, he insisted they should break up and not be together anymore. Now, on the one hand, it’s fair to say that he was looking out for Leonardo in a way–he didn’t want him to end up miserable and alone when she was gone. But at the same time I feel that Adam’s behavior is deeply revealing of vampire society as well lmao. He doesn’t really try to understand the situation, just immediately assumes it’s the only appropriate outcome. It does insinuate a lowkey cultural disdain for humanity: they are imperfect, they do not last or cannot have real value without preservation. If Adam was really Leonardo’s friend, wouldn’t he realize that Leonardo considers vampirism nothing more than a burden that he would wish on no one, much less his future wife? Additionally, wouldn’t he also keep in mind that Leonardo considers human beings beautiful just as they are? Since he fails these basic requirements to understand Leonardo, my impression is that he is influenced by the larger vampire culture to some extent. Furthermore, it underscores just how thoroughly Leonardo has been trained to keep his cards close to his chest for fear of ridicule/violent reprisal: no vampires know his true feelings on the matter because he would be vehemently rejected outright.

[One can also offer that maybe Adam wasn’t being malicious, maybe vampires find human women they fall in love with all the time and turn them (or any other permutation of companionship that occurs), so he doesn’t understand why Leonardo wouldn’t. But even then, to try to force them to break up if she doesn’t turn? A bit overkill imo but also revealing--Leonardo’s will is being ignored for the sake of upholding a kind of ill-founded superiority complex lmao]

While Leonardo does have a somewhat overbearing need to control the pacing of his relationship and who sacrifices what, I don’t think it’s wrong to be cautious--to want to think things through. I think it’s fair to be afraid that the person you’re with can’t handle what you’ve seen/known. But that also leads me to a core issue I have with MC: she doesn’t inspire much confidence that she can handle the life he’s lived, and that’s a problem of both incapacity and incompatibility. I have to wonder how he reacts when he’s with somebody at the same maturity level, or at the very least somebody with whom he can see her strength with time. When MC’s life was dying out he was desperate enough to accept biting her because he didn’t want to lose her–human or not. It’s MC that rejects this solution, which leads me to further believe that he just doesn’t care about the divide when it comes down to it; it has more to do with his difficulty with being vulnerable and fully trusting someone to care about him. (Assuming they also have the fortitude to stay hopeful and relatively strong over the course of a very long life.)

In line with that, the second thing I think it’s important to acknowledge is how deeply hurt Leonardo is as a result of his family treating him like a fool/black sheep. He outright says and heavily insinuates that his family would write her off as worthless, that they’d never accept her--that's his first thought:

Leonardo: “My familia would call you frail. I think you’re strong and beautiful. You do more with your time than we try to do with ours.”

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

MC: “And those letters were from your familia?”

Leonardo: “Yeah. I don’t talk to them or see them anymore. We don’t agree...on a lot of things.”

[Brief intermission here. But lmao. Who does that sound like? If any of you guessed Isaac, that’s exactly what I’m alluding to. Isaac says in his own route smth along the lines of “Why bother trying to get through to people when no amount of talking does any good or gets you any closer to being understood?” Which also explains the way they get along to uncanny degrees: they find comfort in making things/researching because it means being able to avoid the distress that comes with being blatantly misunderstood by others. Their pain simply comes in different dimensions; for Leo it’s about loss and hiding who he is out of fear of rejection, for Isaac it’s about betrayal and people turning on him--ultimately abandonment for both. But I digress, back to the main argument.]

Leonardo: “Once they discovered my location, they began hounding me with letters again. They don’t want me to be with just anyone...They want more purebloods. I’m no more than one half of an equation for them.”

There is a clear implication that his desire to choose somebody that truly makes him happy means jack shit to them. They keep talking over him and trying to wear him down to force him into what they want. It’s no wonder--imo--that he has such a hard time just saying what he wants in his life, to feel like he has the freedom to wish and pursue anything freely. It’s no wonder he just expects MC to spit on everything that’s important to him. It appears as though only other human beings in general and Comte have ever come close to understanding him.

At some point MC realizes that his insistence on being compagni provvisori was originally just another act of sacrifice, and that he was fine with giving up his time and a little privacy if it meant she would be safe. The thing she doesn’t seem to realize in the course of this--and he struggles to say it until later on--is that it stopped being blind generosity. He really did start to fall in love with her, and that’s the whole reason things became even more messy; because he didn’t anticipate not being able to let go on top of the vulnerability. And it’s a big part of why he’s hesitating to speak. He feels he has no right to those feelings, and that he’s imposing on her--not that he’ll be welcome.

And when she did finally admit those feelings were welcome, it was compounded by the parroted views of his family and larger vampire society as a whole. Saying that she herself wasn’t enough, that she had to become a vampire to make him happy. Imo that sounds very potentially retraumatizing given his experiences (people trying to force him into marriages with other vampires who didn’t remotely understand or care about him because it was “the right way of things”). It’s no wonder he freaks out and does something incredibly stupid and insensitive–which is pretty insanely ooc for him.

Leonardo: “...It shocked them. Quieted them down a bit. Hard to get peace when your familia is immortal. Grazie, cara mia.”

Leonardo: “You’re strong, and you’re kind. So probably you won’t cry while I’m here to see it. But when I’m not looking, you’ll cry. If I had done that to you (bitten her, in other words), you’d still be crying when I wasn’t watching... Maybe it’s selfish of me, after what I did, but I just wanted to make you happy. You always look pretty, cara mia, but your smile takes my breath away...It’s not your destiny to love someone who will only make you cry.”

This man literally cannot handle anyone deeply sad or in despair. He’s always going to try to cheer people up and care about them, but general tragedy/emotional discord affects him very powerfully--and it’s likely a reflection of what I’ve mentioned before. He can’t bear to see people feeling helpless or miserable because he’s just been there too many times to be able to cope. He wants to help and heal (even if he’s suffering from prolonged compassion fatigue), but he knows that his powers are limited--even if he is a pureblood.

And the thing is? While it’s misguided to believe she would cry alone when it comes to the context of healthy romantic love (bc the idea would be that you lean on each other when something upsetting happens) he has zero reference point. He was not born as a result of authentic love (his parents never married, he was the result of a procreative arrangement), his family talks over every wish and belief he has and they still claim it’s done out of love/honest concern for him. One can only imagine the serpentine and obnoxious lengths to which his family has deceived or tried to force him into reconnecting with them. Every person that ever did know him/care about him in a real way is gone. Love, for him, has only been a series of losses that left his heart hollowed out; I don’t really blame him for expecting further disappointment and isolation and exhaustion. 

He’s also not wrong in the sense that he partially saw MC do what he outlined, and it’s a big part about what he loves about her. When she was feeling alone and lost–powerless–all she did was shrug and move forward. That doesn’t make it hurt any less, but focusing on what you can do instead of what you can’t do is healthier. And they both have the tendency to hide when they’re in pain or feeling lost, all because they don’t want to trouble anyone. Remember that when he says this, it’s a reflection of himself too: because even if he was heartbroken beyond measure, all he would do is hide it every second; he would never expect anyone to see right through him or care.

I mean I tend think of that one post I saw that talked about how people often see themselves as a social burden when most of their life has just been a series of neglect and loss. They don’t really have a concept of “you’re not heavy because I want to stay with you. It’s my choice to care about you.” How do you feel worthwhile an existence when four hundred years later your family still won’t treat you with basic dignity. The men in the mansion also all look to him for guidance and soothing because of the kind of person he is–he’s either silent in the periphery or helping. He never betrays so much as an inkling of insecurity or distress. 

I mean the whole reason Leonardo comes to the mansion is because he has absolutely no issue helping Comte in a pivotal time of need without seeking much of anything in return. Remember that Comte explains how Leonardo came to the mansion in response to Comte’s distress about the future. This makes sense considering Comte was rapidly trying to stop Vlad by beating him to the punch, and had only enough time to plan the basics. He had no certainty things would work out, much less that his boys would thrive. But Comte, unlike the boys, has become acutely aware of how much Leonardo is hiding his fatigue and despair in the course of being helped. As such, he wants to return the favor--and tries to be a good friend to him as much as he can (handles his insane familia, keeps things light and silly time between them, takes him seriously as a person, doesn’t pry beyond what’s fair.)

[I also think of that psychology concept of “the good enough mother.” It’s not always about being perfect every second of your life. It’s about paying attention and acting where it really counts. I feel like people who grow up under an enormous burden of neglect or parental/mentor abuse have a hard time coming to terms with the idea. This notion that just trying is enough for a lot of people, that showing them they’re not alone is enough to make  difficult memories bearable. Because it’s the oppressive silence and apathy that tends to kills people, imo--not people who mean well. But Leonardo doesn’t really understand any kind of reciprocal or non-self-emptying model because the concept is beyond him. He has no experience with it beyond Comte and a select few humans he’s befriended.]

Let’s continue on this point of MC crying where he can’t see her, shall we? The reason this scares him so much is not because he doesn’t care, or doesn’t want to make the effort. It’s precisely that he cares to the point of madness. It’s that he is legitimately convinced nothing he has to say, nothing that he can do, no part of him is enough to ease what she will have to trade away to stay with him. The core issue is not one of disregard or objectification, I find it to be more about his belief that he just isn’t enough. He doesn’t trust that anyone can love him to the point where just the sight of him or time with him can heal. And while there is a foolishness to this belief, it’s understandable when you consider where he’s coming from. You can call it selfishness, but it just feels involuntary--he has a lot of fear when it comes to love.

I mean Comte even says it himself? His words here always strike me: “I want you to understand, it’s because he cherishes you just as you are--more than he cares about his future or his well-being.”

Comte is openly identifying the way that Leonardo has a tendency to give more than is healthy. That Leonardo isn’t hesitating because his feelings are lacking, he’s doing it because he knows it’s going to hurt like a bitch trying to love her and never ask beyond what feels reasonable. (Spoilers: no request is reasonable. That’s the problem here. He’s convinced he deserves nothing.) Therefore turning her into a vampire to stay with him is--consequently, to Leonardo--out of the question. This is the literal hingepoint at which Comte and Leonardo divide; Comte simply tells MC he’ll take full responsibility for asking so much of her. He intends to make her happy with every single resource and skill he has at his disposal. Even if he doubts his ability or fears losing her to vampire rhetoric madness, he’d rather try than live with the regret and immediate loss. Leonardo is more resistant because of his dour outlook, that her fear of immortality is never going to be something that either of them can overcome. And/or he’s likely afraid she’s only going to regret being together after so long, and might succumb to the ridiculous sort of power/greed complexes vampires seem so attracted to by nature.

I think Leonardo is still coming to terms with the idea that he isn't alone in the world in a lot of ways, and I think he's also coming to terms with the idea that immortality does not equate to evil. Sure, human beings on average are probably more open to flexible modes of thinking and living compared to vampires--their maturity is in some ways guaranteed due to the instances they're forced to adapt to survive. However, just one look at the ruling class and oligarchies of all kinds (even just stubborn human beings) reveals how they are not immune to the same sort of megalomania, arrogance, and thoughtless violence purebloods/vampires are capable of.

So I guess I hesitate when it comes to the thought that he only loves her because she's human. If anything, I think he loves her for the fact that she's very rooted in reality--not quite so bound by the extremes that trouble him. It's one of the many reasons I believe Leonardo needs a lot of maturity and patience; the ability to differentiate between his panicked/overwhelmed/hurt reactions versus his calm is a skill in and of itself considering his capacity for concealment. To say nothing of getting him to slow down when this happens, too.

I suppose I think about it in a way that’s similar to how Napoleon’s main story narrative is framed. While Leonardo’s route doesn’t focus on the grandeur of being a former emperor, there is a clear insinuation here that he also craves normalcy? Just a little life, with a person he loves dearly, where he can rest and be himself for once. I think because he gives off such an appearance of steadiness, people fail to see that he is barely holding on--not to mention the kind of experiences he’s been deprived of (the exact security and understanding he so expertly emulates).

Closer to your question, it’s worth mentioning that Leonardo’s life goal for a while was the creation of an immortal human being--in that he fully recognized human beings could not offer what he needed as they were.

He loves humans because of their adaptability, their frequent desire to keep seeking out hope and making the best of the broken pieces they have. But then again, it has more to do with the nature of how frequently that sensibility occurs in humans vs vampires (and immortality in general): mortality does demand some level of necessity to change and grow. Which is one of the largest trauma points for him; the vampires around him just refused to grow up, always demanding at him like children and obsessed with their power complexes.

Thing is I also don't know enough about vampire society to know how correct this perceived ratio is. However, given Comte's similar avoidance of other vampires and general inability to live with them (he and Vlad were literal childhood best friends and Comte can't stand him anymore lmao) I think Leonardo may have more validity here than people give him credit for. Which begs the question--why did he quit trying to make a human immortal? What was it that stopped him? Was it the horror of what needed to be done to achieve it? Or would a potential companion start to fall more in love with the idea of immortality than they do with life itself/him? I think it’s a worthwhile question to ask, given the disdain he seems to aim at Shakespeare in particular--once human, but now emulates all of the violence and insatiability marked by vampirism.

This is where the transition from human to vampire/immortal contains another hingepoint: is Leonardo so incapable of finding a middle ground because he feels like any choice he makes will be a wrong one? Marry a human, deprive them of a normal love where they can grow old together. Marry a human and turn them, what if they are reborn with immortal wounds/psychological harm? What if time proves they get bored of him or hateful, what if they begin to act like the predatory purebloods he hates so much? Marry a pureblood/immortal, and be hounded by his family for heirs--risk being with somebody who will never love him or their children, and only inspire more misery in the world.

Does it make sense how this can really start to become an anxious downspiral for someone like him? How the personal insecurity and life history comes together to just compound stress endlessly?

That's the thing that's important here, I think. Leonardo just needs somebody who is open-minded, firm, and not easily deceived. If one takes a look at Leonardo's main story route, the whole reason everything goes to shit so disastrously is because MC stops listening at a critical point. Granted Leonardo could have been more forthcoming for sure, but when she started assuming Shakespeare was right instead of seeing how Leonardo was feeling/reacting, she responded in ways Leonardo wasn't prepared for. He never wanted to shake her faith or insinuate whatever she is is not good enough for him, and tbh I think Leonardo downspiraled because it was just the same thing all over again. What he is--a vampire and immortal--keeps ruining everything he wants with his life. 

[quinintheclouds]

YES YES YES YES YES

Spoilers for RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 6

THAT WAS SO MUCH MORE THAN I HAD EVEN LET MYSELF HOPE FOR

It really looks like this is the Volume the writers realized how many answers we’ve needed for years and years, and is answering them now. I wish it’d come sooner, of course, but since they can’t go back and fix the pacing or writing, I’m really impressed and optimistic about how Volume 8 is going!

BUT MORE SPECIFICALLY

I would like to GUSH about how they handled the Oscar and Ozpin scenes. We have needed, nay, BEGGED for this sort of development, and it’s finally here. There’s too much I want to rave about so bullet point time! 

[Note: I love the farmboy so this wound up longer than expected -- have a read more for your scrolling convenience -- TL;DR at the end]

We got confirmation that Ozpin has been pleading with Oscar to let him take over so he can burden the pain and torture instead. Oscar is the one refusing, choosing to take it himself because he knows Salem and Hazel will be much harsher on Oz. I thought that was the case, but I’m so glad they addressed it because otherwise we’d be wondering why Oz hasn’t offered. It does make me wonder, is Oz still able to take control without asking? Oscar was able to fight it in vol 6, and he’s come a long way.

Hazel is holding back -- at least, Oscar says he can tell that he is. This would keep in line with the battle at Haven, when Hazel was suspiciously playing defense and stalling by letting Ozpin monologue, then letting Oscar give a little protagonist speech... I mean, it sure doesn’t LOOK like he’s holding back. Look at this kid:

moving on before I cry,

Ozpin suggests he take over and try to escape.

Oscar says no, he has a better idea. “This is our chance.”

Oz: “Hm. Maybe you’ve taken one too many hits.” I like this for two reasons: one, because it gives us a taste of the ol’ lighthearted Ozpin humor we’ve missed since he’s been gone, and two, because it shows that he and Oscar think differently. They have different thought processes, ideas, etc. Oz didn’t immediately know what Oscar was planning.

Oscar explains that Salem can’t take on everyone at once, and thus has been sending people to infiltrate all of remnant first, to attack from within. 

I LOVE that they had Oscar come up with this, because it is so in line with his character development in Volume 7. Not to mention how in volume 6 he was the one to figure out how to defeat Cordovin’s mecha. It’s cool to see him as a strategist, because while he’s a sweet kid from the middle of nowhere, he’s proven to be really smart and quick.

Plus, this gives him agency. People wanted Ozpin to return and save Oscar, but this is so, so much better. Oscar’s idea, Oscar’s choice, and Oz gets right on board. They’re agreeing to work together, despite their unresolved conflict. “Ozma learned the importance of living with the souls with which he’d been paired.”

AND THEN, A MOMENT I CANNOT THANK RT ENOUGH FOR:

The captions don’t show it, but Oscar AND Ozpin said this in unison. Now, this and the few seconds that follow were a rollercoaster of emotions. Let’s break it down:

When they said this together, I was positively GIDDY with excitement: they’re leaning into the “like-minded souls” thing and calling attention to the situation! Surely this must be a sign that Oscar and Ozpin will indeed both exist when their souls are one, as they are both equally parts of the combination of lives that is Ozma. Well, maybe not equally (yet?). 

Then, my elation was replaced with dread. What if this was actually an indication of them “merging” in the way some of the FNDM interpret it will go, rather than how I think it does? Or what if that’s not what RT is doing, but what if the FNDM takes it as a sign Ozpin is taking over?? I can’t last the whole break without knowing!

AND THEN!!! Ugh, this made me so relieved. Ozpin says, in a slightly amused tone of voice with a trace of a laugh, “We certainly are similar, you and I.” YESSSSS more references to them being like-minded souls!! But still having differences!! 

“Maybe we have been presented with an opportunity.” I’m really glad they went the route where Oscar is changing Ozpin’s mind on things. Oz no longer thinks he knows best, and is allowing Oscar to come into his own. Now he’s seeing how far Oscar’s come and the person he is.

Related note: The commentary for the vol 7 finale said that it was Oscar’s speeches to Ironwood about fear and trust that made Oz realize he’s been keeping secrets and hiding out of fear, and inspired him to come back. This is so promising for Oscar’s character going forward.

[Side note: Would love more info on what Oscar meant in volume 7 when he said “these memories... you’re back, aren’t you?” because? Is he just referring to the scenes with things like how he talked about Atlas’ history as if he were there, or does he have access to Oz’s memories now? 2 chapters ago we saw that he doesn’t yet know the location of the Beacon Relic. So unless he was lying really well, he doesn’t have ALL the memories yet. So which ones does he have? RT EXPLAIN]

Next,

I would like to call attention to the fact that Oscar smiled here. After Ozpin said they were similar, I was worried Oscar would react the way he has in the past: sad and conflicted about his identity, worried he’s becoming less of himself. But no. Like we saw in Volume 7, THIS is who Oscar Pine is. His development was his own, and we get to see that when Ozpin returned because Oscar had made him rethink his choices. Oscar Pine is more himself now than he’s been at any other point in the series. 

It’s really brilliant how the writers have used these last 2 volumes to show that Penny, the robot, is one of the most human characters on the show; and Oscar, the boy cursed to death and rebirth with a soul that was not his own, is one of the most individualistic ones. It’s just really cool how they’re playing with our expectations of the characters. (They’re doing great with Salem, too!)

[Side note: Penny’s soul/aura was given to her by Pietro, and they still have distinct personalities and identities. It’s possible that’s a parallel to Oscar’s situation, but I do feel the merge’s completion will result in one remaining soul/identity - just not a “taking over” situation]

Okay, that’s the last of that rollercoaster I mentioned. 

Time to get on a new one!

At long last, this episode finally gave us something we haven’t had since chapter 4 of volume SIX*:

*(I am not counting the one second of "Oscar." *glowy eyes* *Oscar blinks and is back in control* in the vol 7 finale)

OZPIN IS BACK!!!!

First, HELL YES I WANTED THIS TO HAPPEN!!!

Second, wow, they can change really quickly now. At first it took effort and was super visible, then just shook Oscar up a bit with the glowy eyes, and now it seems almost effortless, seamless. The eyes glow and the transition is smooth. I like it.

We didn’t get to hear Oscar’s thoughts after Oz said “Oscar, please,” begging him again to let him take control. So we don’t know whether Oscar allowed it out of pain, exhaustion, their plan, or a decision to trust Oz and work together here. Alternatively, Ozpin may have simply taken over of his own accord. I wish the writers would give us more insight to Oscar’s thoughts, because those scenes already have him talking inside/to his own head, so leaving some of his thoughts out can seem intentional and open-ended, which could mean more dragging out answers, but I think this was fine. Not the worst case of this by far lol

WHEN! HE! SPOKE!

I was hoping for this with all my heart. Over the course of volume 7 in particular, we saw Oscar’s voice, mannerisms, and speech patters start to resemble Ozpin’s. However, he still sounds and feels like Oscar. Going back to Volume 5, heck, even Volume 6 (which is when we last saw Ozpin in control), the voice of Ozpin speaking through Oscar is similar, but distinctly different from how Oscar’s speaking now. So I’ve been theorizing and hoping, and it CAME TRUE! Ozpin sounds more like Oscar now, while still managing to clearly be Ozpin.

Right from the first “Hello,” it was noticeable. It sounded almost like Oscar. I know it’s the same voice actor when one of them is in control (same body, same vocal cords), but that just makes it even more impressive. This is the first time we’ve heard Ozpin’s voice speaking through Oscar since QRWBY yelled at him in the snow in vol 6. And I was NOT disappointed.

“Why do you follow her?” I’ll keep saying it, but he sounds so much like Oscar confronting Ironwood. 

“I know how you see me. But her? Look at what she does, how is she the answer, why not stop her??” This gives me serious deja vu to Oscar’s speech towards Hazel in the Battle of Haven (and his speech towards Ironwood in v7′s finale). That speech had given Hazel pause then, and this one does as well, now. Ozpin sounds angrier, though, more aware of just how far gone these people are, but knowing they can change.

Hazel calls Ozpin out for the same thing the FNDM has been, and honestly, it’s been a long time coming. Hazel’s motivations are extremely misguided, Oscar was right to stand up for Oz/Gretchen at Haven, and the show really needed to reinforce the Ozpin-isn’t-bad-actually thing. Now it’s all out in the open. But it’s Ozpin’s response to this that elevated this scene even more:

That’s it. Ozma has spent countless lives fighting a war that may be impossible to win. But if no one tries, no one will survive. The gods will destroy all of Remnant. Still, every single lifetime, he chooses to try. Like Oscar said in volume 5 (about Hazel’s sister but writing-wise also kinda about Pyrrha), “She made a choice! A choice to put others before herself. So do I.” Like-minded souls.

AND THIS!!! Good gods I’m glad he said this. The show went way too long before anyone even questioned the “You can’t” answer from Jinn. Nora mentioned it in passing earlier, which I liked a lot (though this really should’ve been discussed in volume 6, but better late than never). But here? We see that Oz never gave up, never planned on losing, not sending people to a battle he “knows they can’t win.” While Salem is immortal, she is not infallible. Not even the gods were. Salem can be fought. Even Hazel has a moment of hesitation, perhaps even realization, before Salem enters.

Salem manipulates Cinder, offering her the maiden powers she wants so badly, and Ozpin interjects. “You’ll only be helping her bring about the end, for all of you!”

I just wanted to show these shots because again, just as we’ve seen Oscar’s mannerisms become increasingly similar to Ozpin’s, now that he’s back, we get to see the other way around. Look at the surprise and fear on his face. Look at how he widens his eyes and raises his eyebrows instead of narrowing/furrowing them now. Listen to the sounds he makes when tortured or thrown about. Listen to the desperation and earnest passion held in his pleas. He’s no longer hiding -- he’s being honest with the people who scare him most, and truly trying to help them see the light. 

[Side note: Cinder is not showing remorse in this scene, but I wonder how she’d react to Oscar, not Ozpin, being tortured. In the same episode, we have Cinder being tortured with a shock collar, AND we have Oscar decide to try to appeal to the humanity left in these villains. Last time we saw Oscar, Salem was torturing him with intense, almost electric magic. She might not care, but I wonder...]

ANYWAY I’m done for now. Have a TL;DR that wound up being long too

TL;DR: 

Basically, I’m super happy with the writers for the detail put into these scenes: 

they confirmed Oz has been begging to take over and bear the torture instead

had Oscar come up with an idea himself instead of getting rescued or immediately escaping

had Oscar view his dire situation as an opportunity, reminding us of his optimism and capabilities as a strategist

had Ozpin not know what Oscar’s plan was before he explained it (this might change as the souls become one, but it at least shows they think differently)

Oscar’s plan to appeal to the villains’ humanity and infiltrate Salem’s forces from within lining up with his volume 7 character development

had Oz trust Oscar and put his faith in him, which is progress for Oz

Oz and Oscar speaking in unison and agreeing to work together

Ozpin’s comment about them being similar, not the same

had Ozpin take control to speak to Hazel

Ozpin’s speech to Hazel and Cinder as parallels to Oscar’s speeches to Hazel and Ironwood, which CRWBY said were the reason Oz realized his secrecy is out of fear of trust, and Oscar’s points are what inspired him to come back.

Ozpin sounding and acting more like Oscar just like we’ve seen happen the other way around (though with Oscar, he’s holding true to his own ideas/morals, with Oz meeting him there)

established hope for some of our villains to defect, setting it in motion.

[thevalleyisjolly]

Semi-crack theory, but based on 1) the setting; 2) my love of the British murder mystery subgenre; and 3) wishful thinking, I’m convinced that the staff banded together and did it:

The means:

Who would be better placed to figure out the secret passageways and trick features of the house than the servants?  Historically, British aristocracy preferred to see as little of their servants as possible, there are whole hidden stairwells and passages built into those big houses just so that the lords and ladies never have to come across servants doing their business.

Likewise, who else is better placed to set up all this wiring than the servants themselves?  Tell the Squire that they need to get an electrician in because the lights are on the blink, use that as a cover for putting the wiring in place.  Theoretically the lord and/or lady of the house is supposed to be going over weekly accounts with the housekeeper...but they also don’t want to be bothered with mundane things.  If a trusted longtime servant tells them they need a repairperson in, are they really going to question it that much?

Alternatively, Squire Brockhollow himself set up the wiring for his own purposes, the servants just piggybacked on top of what he was doing.

I’m also thinking that if it weren’t for the murder victim (presumed to be the Squire) trying to gouge the shrapnel out of his chest, a death by electric current would resemble a sudden heart attack.  It’s only because the victim had Buckster’s knife on hand that there was such a bloody injury, unfortunately making the death look instantly suspicious.  If there hadn’t been a knife, a cursory look at the scene might conclude it was some kind of heart condition.  And if someone had looked closer and found the wiring, they’d hardly suspect someone like Mrs. Molesly to have set the whole thing up.

Objectively, Mrs. Molesly is the best person you want in the room when the murder happens.  She’s getting on years, is not very physically strong, has impaired vision and a medical condition, and character-wise is just such a sweetheart that you really wouldn’t suspect her of anything.  The only reason anyone did suspect her was because of the wound and her being the only person in the room.  If there hadn’t been a wound and she’d claimed it was a heart attack, you’d hardly suspect her of lying.  At most, even if foul play was suspected, people would just think she misinterpreted what she saw.

The police!  Gilfoyle claims to have called them after the Squire’s murder, and it takes them 12 hours to get here?  Even Mrs. McCabbage gets here before they do!  And then they arrive almost immediately after the second murder, the very incriminating murder that directly puts a non-staff member of the house in the frame, just in time to arrest him.

Also, wasn’t it Harding who gave Gangie all the instructions?  Sure, the Squire might have his own reasons for wanting the bodies, but who’s to say Harding couldn’t slip Gangie a few extra instructions of his own?

Mrs. Molesly is an absolutely sweetie, but she’s far too calm about finding out that Gangie’s a criminal.  I mean, good for her, end the stigma around people having criminal records, but everyone else in the house reacts so suspiciously to Gangie’s presence, especially after a murder, and Mrs. Molesly’s just chill?  Unless she already knows quite a few criminals in the staff, and does not consider it an issue (good for her!)

Also, everyone always ignores the staff in murder mysteries, mostly because the upper classes don’t even consider them important, and given that Brennan has to have some critique of capitalism and the class system somewhere, it seems thematically appropriate.

The motive:

If we take away Fletcher Cottonbottom and the ghosts and the smoke and mirrors, what do we really have here?  We have a dead badger who may or may not be the Squire, but who is certainly presumed to be.  We have another dead badger and a dead magpie, who may or may not be Lady Constance and her husband, but who are certainly presumed to be.  Three fairly competent members of the Brockhollow clan, possibly the most competent members of the Brockhollow family.  Lady Lucretia is distracted, Jeremy is shaky and certainly not the badger his father was.

Squire Brockhollow was certainly a cantankerous fellow who was up to something.  And he was willing to let Mrs. Molesly go just like that after so many years of service.  If the Squire treats his longtime housekeeper like that, who’s to say how he treats the rest of his staff normally?  Whose employment is really so secure with someone like Squire in charge?  With the Squire out of the way, and perhaps with Lady Constance and Dr. Magpie out of the way as well, Loam Hall is left with Lucretia and Jeremy, neither of whom are exactly the imposing figures that the Squire and Constance were.  Who really runs the house then?  The staff.

The red herrings:

Like a typical British murder mystery, there are multiple agents and motivations at work here.

Cottonbottom is definitely alive!  But he didn’t do the murder, he’s just taking advantage of the confusion to get one over Sylvester.

Honestly, would not be surprised if Cottonbottom arrived a while ago, figured out what was going on, was incredibly amused, and then realized the opportunity he had here to frame Sylvester.  After all, Sylvester has deduced and foiled every plot that he’s ever come up with...but what if he’s not the one coming up with the plot?  Sylvester can outwit a mastermind if he suspects there’s one present, but that also means he’s more likely to miss the forest for the trees.  Can’t see the bigger picture if you’re scrutinizing all the little details.

Squire Brockhollow definitely has some kind of plan going on as well.  Perhaps it’s even those plans which made him a target.  He could probably keep a secret from his family, but how much can he keep hidden from the servants that he relies on to keep everything in his life running smoothly?

Anyways, the Squire definitely had plans, and Hawkins was probably in on some of them.

Why kill the Squire at a big party with lots of guests?  Well, it widens the suspect pool.  If the Squire suddenly keeled over on any old day when it was just the servants and the family in the house, an investigator might focus more closely on each of them.  But at a party full of known enemies?  Who’s going to look at the butler or the maid, except to give them orders?

I’m just thinking about so many Agatha Christie novels where the killer arranges for a detective or specialist to be in a certain place at a certain time just so that they can witness something the killer wants them to or give the killer an alibi.  

The victim trying to remove the shrapnel made the death look instantly suspicious, but there’s always the possibility that someone would have investigated anyways, especially if the Squire didn’t have a history of bad health.  But a famous detective like Sylvester could probably figure out the wired desk, and wouldn’t that surely put the staff to the back of the suspect queue?  After all, who would suspect the servants of having any great electrical knowledge?  And of course, if Sylvester gets too close to the truth, they can always frame him.  After all, Sylvester is certainly not on good terms with the Squire.

TL;DR The staff (who’ve been here ~the whole time~) unionized to overthrow their employers.  *Sam Reich on Game Changer voice* Con-gratulations players, you’ve ~UNIONIZED~!

[nomazee]

Komorebi (2)

komorebi, p.2

synopsis: Tsukishima dislikes the amount of parallels there are with you and Hinata. He dislikes the way you’re so energetic and exuberant when you want to be, and the way you can get along so well with people. He dislikes the way that people are naturally drawn to you, and the way you’re so willing to put time into your dumb gifts and snacks and treats for a team of boys you barely know.

But Tsukishima does not dislike you. And he supposes that’s part of the problem.

series content: developing relationship, (sort of) ooc tsukishima, strangers to (sort of) friends to lovers, angst, fluff, slow burn

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

(alright!! here’s p2 of this whole mess!! i’m sorry for taking so long to get this out, the week’s been a bit stressful what with school coming up soon. 

this chapter is short, and so was my last one and every other chapter i post is probably gonna be as short as this—i mainly want this whole story to be written in these short snippets that contain specific scenes between characters that push how the story progresses, so in a way it’s sort of a collection of thoughts/scenes?? but very....concept/plot-driven. that doesn’t make any sense i’m just spewing words here LMAOA

but tl;dr chapters are gonna be short but for a reason!!! writer individuality or something like that !!! 

i hope you guys like this!! thank you for all the support, and happy reading <3)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

Against Tsukishima’s wordless wishes, you become an annoying constant in his day-to-day life. 

While you don’t show up to every practice that the volleyball team has, you make a valiant effort to make an appearance at as many practices possible. You never stay for long, twenty minutes at most, and make sure to stay out of everyone’s way if need be. (Though, Tsukishima would argue that that’s still not enough and it’d be best for you to stay out of the gym entirely.) 

On the days that you don’t come to practice, in the morning or afternoon, Tsukishima still catches glimpses of you throughout his day despite not being in the same class as you. You’re friends with Hinata—he knows this already—and it seems that you two are loud enough to catch his eye whenever he walks in the hallway. 

He makes it a subconscious habit to scoff under his breath and roll his eyes at the sight of you interacting—you know, as friends do—and he doesn’t miss the knowing looks Yamaguchi sends him when he does so. Tsukishima wonders what Yamaguchi knows that he doesn’t know, himself. There’s not much information that fits in that category, to be honest.

Not only do you bake, he learns, but you like making gifts in other forms. It’s annoying how persistent you are with giving these things out—friendship bracelets in painfully bright colors, little canvases of suspiciously similar-looking landscapes that you cover in glitter varnish to make it “prettier” (your words, not his), and even scarves—yes, plural—that you’ve managed to knit neatly and hand out to multiple members of the team (not all of them, as that would be difficult to manage with the yarn that’s in stock at your local craft store and the amount of time that you have on your hands. But Tsukishima is slowly starting to wonder if you’re able to alter the concept of time in an attempt to make as many useless crafts as possible). 

He knows that you’re not directly bothering him—which is probably intentional, and influenced by Hinata mindlessly chattering about the tall middle blocker and telling you all about his emotionless disposition—but he still can’t help but be annoyed at all the attention you manage to grab from the team, during practice, no less. He doesn’t care about the sport, he assures himself, but he cares about maintaining some kind of order in an already order-less team of boys. 

Tsukishima finds that your presence lingers with all the gifts you decide to give out—he catches colorful bands around the wrists of many of his teammates, which couldn’t not be yours, necklaces around some of the first years’ necks that have been tucked snugly into their uniforms, glittery earrings that Yachi and even Kiyoko have decided to wear with an odd sort of pride. 

At the sight of a navy and orange chevron bracelet tied tightly around Yamaguchi’s wrist as they walk home, Tsukishima scoffs habitually. His friend glances up from beside him, brows furrowed in curiosity. Before the boy could ask anything himself, Tsukishima took the initiative to make a snarky comment. 

“You’re really wearing that dumb thing she made? Really?” He pauses to avert his eyes from Yamaguchi’s slowly growing smile of amusement, then, “She makes so many childish gifts all the time. It’s getting annoying.” 

Yamaguchi hums, smile still persistent on his face. “Maybe you’re just upset that she hasn’t given you anything personal yet.” 

The blonde wants to scoff at that, but feels like he’s been doing too much of that so he rolls his eyes instead. “Yeah, sure. Very accurate, Yamaguchi.” 

“I’m serious!” His friend responds, the knowing look in his expression returning. “Think about it. Everyone has gotten a gift except you. Maybe you’re just getting angry about that.” 

“I’m not a child.” 

“I mean, you’re fifteen. I think that’s still a child, technically.” 

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.” 

“Sorry, Tsukki.” 

The two walk in silence for a minute, which Tsukishima thoroughly enjoys until the quiet is once again breached by Yamaguchi’s comments. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” he starts, “she asked me what your favorite color is. I think she’s making you a scarf now.” 

Tsukishima lets out a sigh of mild aggravation. “Great. Now I know to keep my trash can empty so it’ll fit in there.” 

Yamaguchi returns his friend’s previous sigh, a tone of resignation hidden in the exhale. The rest of the walk was quiet, save for the loud music playing from Tsukishima’s headphones in an attempt to block out any other potential comments. 

———

Within a week, Yamaguchi’s guess about your upcoming gift is proven correct. You catch them both right before they enter the gym for practice, shouting their names in glee as you sprint towards them, a sky blue bundle in your hands. 

Tsukishima forces himself to turn around and face you, seeing as Yamaguchi does so. The shorter boy greets you with a smile and a wave, while the blonde stubbornly remains silent. 

You look up, the upturn of your lips remaining even when faced with Tsukishima’s disdainful mien. You extend the object in your hand, tassels and all, and Tsukishima thinks, ‘Oh, God. It really is a scarf.’

“I made this for you!” You exclaim, followed by a stupid giggle that tightens the strings in Tsukishima’s lungs for some reason he’d rather not get into. "It’s your favorite color— or, at least, according to Yamaguchi. I hope he wouldn’t lie to me…?” You send a playfully suspicious look at said boy, and he laughs along with you before your attention is drawn back to the still-silent blonde in front of you. 

He hasn’t made a move to take it yet, but you’re steadfast in your resolve and pester him again. “Here! You can take it. I used this super soft yarn for this, it was a bit more pricey, but I think it was worth it. My mom helped me pick it out. You know, I almost dropped a few stitches by accident, but I’m thankful it didn’t unravel completely! I think I would’ve cried if it did.” 

You ramble on and on about this stupid blue scarf for minutes and Tsukishima wonders why he hasn’t tuned out your voice yet. It rings steadily in his ears, and while he wants to compare it to the annoying chime of an American school bell, he can’t seem to make that connection without feeling as if it’s off. 

He interrupts you in the middle of a rant about stockinette stitches. “It’s spring,” his tone is dry and blunt, and he doesn’t look in your eyes as he speaks. “I don’t need this.” 

Your smile wavers. Tsukishima is the slightest bit shocked at that—at the falter in your ever-positive demeanor, but doesn’t say anything as you give a laugh (stiffer than before, he notes dizzily) and thrust the scarf at him yet again. 

“Yeah, well, it’s for the future! Never too early to start stocking up for winter, you know?” 

His eyes finally flit up to meet yours, and for a moment he regrets it. The sun is high, and casts gold glitter in your irises that moves like shimmering fabric with each slight movement of your eyes. You blink up at him owlishly as you wait for a response, whether verbal or in action, and he’s snapped back to the present as soon as your brow furrows. 

“That’s stupid,” he says, but a hand hesitantly reaches out to take the scarf from you regardless. He hears Yamaguchi take in a sharp breath of air, and your expression falls completely. 

Your eyes fall to the side, a little ways away where a lone white flower sits among a patch of grass. “Right. Sorry.” 

Tsukishima doesn’t find any pleasure in seeing your attitude change so quickly. He thinks it’s because he wasn’t expecting a change at all—at least, not in this way. You’re just like Hinata, he keeps telling himself, and Hinata doesn’t get upset over his comments, not sad. He gets annoyed, which is what makes his reaction so funny in the first place. 

Why aren’t you getting annoyed? Why aren’t you saying anything back? 

“I’ll see you later, Yamaguchi!” You walk off before he can say anything else. Yamaguchi gives you a hesitant wave as you turn around and leave, and only then is Tsukishima aware of the fact that you hadn’t bothered to say bye to him. 

Whatever, he tells himself. Doesn’t matter that much. Practice starts soon, he should be getting dressed already. He relays this to Yamaguchi, who gives him a look that borders on concern before letting out a sigh and shaking his head at his blonde friend. 

A voice in the back of Tsukishima’s head tells him to apologize the next time he sees you. His conscious mind argues that there’s nothing to apologize for, and he forgets about the entire conflict by the time practice begins.

[joyrose-fandomer]

Music club AU Chap4 (Sanders sides Human AU)

TL;DR: Remember when the twins mom hoped that Virgil was emotionaly strong ? He’s not. But at least he have an ally now !

POV : Virgil

Relationship: Creativitwins, Prinxiety, Logicality parent to Virgil, Dukceit

TW: Little panic attaque, thaughts of getting hurt or bullied, avoiding somone (You know, the Virgil set, but really it’s ok)

<<Previous

Virgil wished a meteor fell from the sky and flattened him like a pancake.

This was the only thought he had when he saw the twins arguing about god-know-what at the school's entrance the next day.

He immediately stopped and looked for any possible way of reaching his classroom without getting through them.

So he followed the gate all around the school until he reached the back entrance which was, of course, closed. The anxious high school boy checked around to be sure he was alone before taking a few steps back. 

He then ran to the gate and with momentum, he managed to climb and jump to the other side.

"Wow."

Virgil felt himself jump out of his skin. A boy looking a year older than him was starring at him in amazement. He was wearing a bright yellow scarf, had heterochromia brown/yellow, and was wearing a f-ing fedora. HOW did Virgil not notice him? Where was he hiding?

"Did you forget your passe?"

The boy visibly forced a smirk through shock.

He didn't forget his passe but Virgil didn't feel like explaining the situation and nodded.

Something unreadable when through the eyes of fedora boy whose smirk widen.

"You know there's a camera here?"

Virgil, when pale and slowly turned around to look at where the boy was pointing, no doubt, this was a camera.

Oh no, he was in big trouble. He was going to be called by the director. He was going to have detention. They will call his dads and they will be so disappointed in him and-

"Hey, calm down, I was just joking. The camera doesn't work."

Virgil's breathing was very fast and the other teen was looking at him worryingly.

He looked at the older boy with eyes that that meant 'tell me it's true, and you're not messing with me again. I beg of you.'

Apparently, he got the message because he apologized and insisted he was telling the truth. He then sank to Virgil's level and took a long breath to silently prompt Virgil into doing the same thing.

Once the anxious teens breathing evened fedora boy stood back up.

"Want me to accompany you to class? My class is still in an hour but I'm guessing your's is starting soon?"

Virgil nodded and they walked together to his classroom.

He was still on edge but whenever his breathing started to pick up a hand fell on his shoulder to ground him. It reminded him of the way his father calm him when he felt bad and it was comforting.

Until a familiar voice yelled from behind.

"JAY!"

There was a flash of green in the corner of his vision and in the next second fedora-boy got tackle-hug by a very excited Remus in a green dress, both of them almost falling to the ground.

A gasp came up from behind Virgil.

"Emo Knightmare!"

Roman shouted, bouncing around like he just saw Santa Claus. Remus immediately picked up on it dragged Virgil into the hug.

"We waited 2 hours for you to get past the gate emo boy how did you even get in? No, both of you! I didn't see you either J!" Remus complained to the older boy.

Instead of answering, Jay smiled and kissed Remus's forehead, living the chaotic twin to mumble happily against his chest.

He then looked at Virgil, understanding clear in his eyes, and winked at him.

"Aren't you three late to class?"

"Do we have to?"

Remus complained and reluctantly let go of J getting a chuckle and a kiss on the top of his head in exchange.

"Yes, you have to. Now get to class both of you. I will accompany your friend to his own class"

Remus grumbles and dragged his brother to their classroom, who was complaining that he couldn't talk to Virgil and digging his heels in the ground ineffectively.

Once there were gone a hand fell back on his shoulder.

"They're a handful at first but they will grow on you eventually, you'll see."

With one last squeeze on his shoulder, Jay walked toward Virgil's classroom, forcing Virgil to run to catch up.

Once they were there J knocked at the door, the teacher was already there and looked at the second year confusingly.

"One of your students got lost so I brought him."

He lied casually, pointing at the worried teen behind him. When the teacher allowed Virgil to come in J whispered to him.

"Meet me behind the school at the first break"

And then he was gone.

The classes when too fast for Virgil and he has no idea what half of what the teachers said were. His brain was rolling a 100 km/h and he still had no idea what Jay wanted from him, or Roman and Remus for that matter and he was freaking out.

What if they were actually bullies and he was going to get bit up. A voice in the back of his head sounding suspicious like his father told him that it didn't make any sense and he needed to calm down.

But he couldn't, they were all so random and nothing during the last three days made any sense to him. Why were they even talking to him in the first place!

The bell ran his imminent doom. He couldn't escape it, who knows what they could do.

When he reached the other side of the school Jay was waiting for him. He waved at Virgil with a smile and asked him to follow him. They snicked past a half-closed door held close by a single rusty chain. Into an abandoned room that was probably the old PE reserve. It was arranged to be more comfortable, with old blankets added to the gymnastic mattresses and few candles here and there to have some light.

"Sit wherever you want." The older boy prompted so Virgil sat obediently on the closest mattress.

"I'm used to going to this room when I'm overwhelmed. I'm the only one who knows or at least remembers it's here so no one ever bothers me. Don't tell Roman and Remus about it, I like them but they can be a little much sometimes."

He sunk on the opposite side of the mattress.

"I guess you know about it too now"

Virgil was confused about why he was telling him that. Was it a threat or something?

"You're wondering why I brought you right?" Virgil nodded 

"To talk to you about the twins. 

They tend to do everything too big. They are constantly moving and loud. like, two big toddlers. They are doing a new challenge every day, they basically never stop. 

It's a wonder where they find all this energy."

He laughed lightly at the taught, fiddling with his gloves. He had gloves?

"I'm telling you that because you don't seem like the type to deal well with those. And it's pretty obvious that they had taken a liking to you, they probably already made a challenge out of who befriends you first. 

So you're basically stuck now."

Vigil swallows down the lump growing in his throat.

  "Yeah." Jay acknowledged Virgil's worry and continued. "Getting the attention of only one twin is manageable but with both, you're definitely gonna need a hand."

He smiled at the anxious boy next to him in a comforting gesture but wasn't very effective.

He sighed and sat closer the put his hand on Virgil's shoulder for the third time today.

"It's not so bad once you get used to their hyperactivity. They're the most loyal and sweet guys I got to see in a long time. The first weeks are just going to be, long."

Virgil was still confused about where he was trying to go. Was he trying to comfort him? Because it wasn't working.

"So I'll give you some advice. First of all, stop with the silent treatment. It only gets them more curious. Trust me, I tried."

Virgil sends him a panicked look. He couldn't just start talking with random people just like that, especially not people like the twins. Speaking sucks, what if he stuttered? What if he said something wrong?

He got a squeeze on the shoulder silently asking him to get back on earth.

  "Want to try talking with me first?"

Jay asked.

Virgil thought about it for a moment before nodding.

"Good, let's start simple. What's your name?"

The anxious teen took a deep breath.

"... V-"

His voice lost itself in his throat at the last second.

"It's ok, try again."

Jay prompted

"V-Virgil"

Fedora boy smiled proudly.

"That's a good name. I'm Janus"

The bell rang. Janus stood up, helping Virgil up in the process.

"In what class, are you?"

"...207"

"I'm in 209, want to go together?"

Virgil nodded. Janus frownd.

"Out loud please."

"Y-yes"

The older student smiled and walked out of the room.

"Know that this room is now also yours. If you're ever overwhelmed just come here. But it stays between us ok?"

  "ok."

"And, Virgil? Just so you know. The twins are definitely going to abduct you for lunch. So brace yourself"

Fedora boy smirked wickedly, making his yellow eye shining in amusement.

Oh, no.

***<>===========<>***

Hey, sorry for the wait I sayed it would come soon and it had been 2? 3? month. Sorry. I hope having some snake boy will compensate. (^-^’)

Tag list:

@falsemood

@extraintrovertedalien

[alex51324]

Thomas and the Island of the Gays, excerpt #3

Thomas endeavors to understand the appeal of camping.

(Content note:  Early-20th-century racial attitudes and language.  There’s a whole running theme in this episode about Mr. Braceridge (the former Scoutmaster) being a huge woodcraft nerd, and his husband, Father Timothy, constantly having to rein him in.  Unfortunately, Scouting/woodcraft culture of the time was infused what might best be described as “patronizing admiration” of Indigenous Americans.  He means well, but it is, as they say on Tumblr, problematic.  TL;DR, he talks a lot about “Red Indians,” and it should be understood that he is referring to the Indian of the white imagination.)  

***

The room was even dimmer than the parlor-slash-dining-room, until Richard lit a candle that was stuck in a bracket by the door.  Thomas was relieved to see the promised bunks, two sets stacked atop each other like the berths in a railway sleeping car.  Each berth had a striped tick—stuffed with straw, as Thomas determined when he poked one—and a stack of folded blankets, most in Army khaki.  

Thomas was undecided about whether he wanted an upper berth or a lower one, until Morrow put his pack on one of the lower berths, saying, “Wilberforce can’t climb.”  

Thomas was as fond of dogs as the next person, but he didn’t wish to be joined in the night by a wet and smelly one.  He claimed the berth above Morrow’s.  “No sheets?” he asked Richard, unfolding the blankets.

“Apparently rugged backwoodsmen don’t need them,” said Richard, starting to make up one of the lower bunks for himself.  

“Lovely.”  It could have been much worse—a trench, for example—but Thomas didn’t think he’d ever understand why anyone would subject themselves to primitive living conditions when they didn’t have to.  

When they returned to the main room, the fireplace boasted a candle-sized flame, into which Mr. Braceridge was feeding needled-sized twigs, and Father Timothy was saying, “Well, as you have that under control, I’ll just go and see to things in the cottage, shall I? Perhaps someone could put the kettle on,” he added.

Richard volunteered to do so, and Thomas, lacking any better ideas, went along to help him with the pump. Father Timothy had picked up his and Mr. Braceridge’s packs and was carrying them toward the ramshackle cottage. “They’re staying in there?” he asked. It barely looked habitable.  

Richard, working the stiff pump handle, nodded.  “I had a look inside last time I was here—it’s a bit cozier than it looks. Father Tim figures it was the gamekeeper’s cottage.”  

Thomas wasn’t sure that was much to recommend it, but didn’t argue.  The pump, at last, began to flow, and once the kettle was full, they went back inside and began the process of coaxing the Primus stove into life. Fortunately, Thomas had used something similar in the War, and this one, having been stored out of the damp, was less fiddly than some.

Over a late luncheon or early tea of cold meat and bread, the group discussed what they would do with the rest of the afternoon.  Thomas was a bit alarmed to hear Miles and James express their hopes that the rain would slow down enough to allow a little shooting, and Henry declare that he was going fishing whether the rain slowed down or not.

“Didn’t you say we’d stay inside and play cards if it rained?” Thomas asked Richard, under his breath.

“This lot seems a little keener than the ones that came last time,” Richard whispered back.  

“I’m going to stay here and read,” Morrow declared flatly, and remained firm in the face of Mr. Braceridge’s suggestions that he borrow a fishing rod, or at least walk along with the shooters.  

“John,” said Father Timothy, “he is a grown man; I daresay he can make up his own mind.”  Turning to Morrow, he added, “Only I do hope you won’t find it dull.”

“Thomas and I will stay as well, and keep him company,” Richard said brightly.  

“There, that’s settled,” Father Timothy said.  “What about you, Victor?”

“I think I’ll stick close to General Headquarters as well,” he said, stroking his beard.  “There’s plenty I can sketch from the veranda, without risking spoiling my sketchbooks.”

“In that case,” the vicar said, “I’ll show Henry where the best fishing spots are.  You’ll go with the others, won’t you?” he asked Mr. Braceridge.

“Yes, yes,” he said, then brightened.  “I’ll take my bow and arrow.  You chaps will be interested in this,” he informed Miles and James.  “I learnt the art from an American Scoutmaster, who learnt it from a Red Indian….”

He went on talking about archery and Red Indians at some length, and insisted on Miles and James learning the rudiments of what he said was the sign language used by Red Indian hunters to communicate without alerting the prey to their presence.  

As they got up from the table, Richard volunteered himself and Thomas to do the washing-up.  Once the rugged outdoorsmen had left, he explained, “Mr. Braceridge is quite keen on everyone doing his share of the camp chores. Best to keep ahead of it—lowers your chances of being stuck with something nobody wants to do.”

“I see,” Thomas said, though he privately wondered if the gentlemen in the group would really end up doing any of it.  

As they heated the washing up water, Richard also explained, “They went with the others and left us on our own because four is probably enough not to get up to any hanky-panky, but in an hour or so Father Tim will toddle back on some pretext or another to make sure we haven’t paired off.”

An hour would have been more than enough time with anyone Thomas had ever paired off with, but he only said, “Noted.”

“He isn’t terribly pleased by gambling, either,” Richard added.  “Not there’s much that makes sense to play with only two.  Last time, we had to play for matches.”  

“Those might be valuable property out here,” Thomas noted, with a glance at the fireplace.  

Richard nodded.  “We’d best make sure not to let it go out.”

The washing-up finished, they went over to the parlor area, where Morrow was already ensconced in the most comfortable-looking chair, with his book.  The mantelpiece held a small selection of indoor amusements—a worn deck of cards, a draughts board, a few books, and a fairly dire-looking jigsaw puzzle. After ascertaining that Morrow was not at all interested in playing cards, they opted for draughts, setting up the board on a camp stool.  

As they started the first game—and as Thomas tried to remember what little draughts strategy he had ever bothered to know—Richard said, “Admit it—I was right, wasn’t I?”

“About what?” Thomas asked.

“That it’s rather pretty here.”

Thomas hadn’t really been paying much attention.  “Oh, yes. It’s nice.”

“I’d never done this sort of thing before—unless you count going with my employer to his shooting lodge—but I think I rather like it.”  

“As long as you don’t swear off matches and start wearing a pith helmet,” Thomas said, without thinking.

Fortunately, Richard took it in good spirit.  “No, I won’t get that carried away.”

**  And a bit later **

Their walk took them over to the stream, which ran down the hillside with some speed, tumbling over rocks and making a considerable racket, then slowed down and spread out below the camp-site.  Wilberforce nosed along the bank for a bit, before suddenly scrambling down and entering the water with a sizeable splash.  Thomas glanced at Morrow, who did not look alarmed.  “Can he swim?”

“He’d better,” said Morrow.

Wilberforce paddled over to a rock that stuck out from the middle of the stream, climbed up on it, and assumed a heroic stance, forepaws on the highest bit of rock and water streaming from his fur.  He barked, a single sharp yap, and a moment later the rest of them heard voices coming up the path from the other direction.  

“—bit better up at the loch,” Mr. Braceridge was saying. “Have you got a fly-rod?”

Mr. Braceridge’s voice was the one that carried best, but Thomas made out a few other things, about fly-rods and deer, and another mention of the loch.  

“We’ll have to see what the others think,” said Father Timothy.  “They must be nearby, since we heard little Wilberforce.”

“Over here!” Richard called, and after a few moments of rustling, the rest of the party popped into view, on the other side of the stream.  Wilberforce hopped down from his rock and clambered up the other bank, going from one person to the next and sniffing at their trousers.

“Ah, good,” said Mr. Braceridge.  “There’s an expedition in the works—track the river to its source, what?”

Father Timothy translated, “If the weather’s fine tomorrow, we thought we’d walk up to the lake.”

“Good fishing up there,” Mr. Braceridge amplified.  “And shooting.”

“All right by me,” said Richard, and glanced at Thomas and Morrow, who made noises of vague agreement.

Mr. Braceridge started talking about sorting out stores and oiling rifles, but Father Timothy spoke over him.  “Perhaps you chaps wouldn’t mind popping the kettle on—we’ve got to go around the long way, to get to a place we can cross.”  

Mr. Braceridge took a step closer to the bank, eying the rocks that dotted the stream.  “Could make it here—hop from rock to rock.”

“You’ll fall in and catch your death,” said Father Timothy, tugging him back from the bank.  Mr. Braceridge didn’t look particularly impressed by this argument, until the vicar added, “And if the others were foolish enough to follow you, they’d spoil their guns.”  

With that, Mr. Braceridge assented.  Morrow whistled for Wilberforce, who splashed back through the stream to them, and they started back for the bunkhouse.  

“It’s only supposed to be about an hour’s walk up to the loch,” Richard told them as they walked. “I didn’t see it last time, since it rained the whole time.”

“I don’t mind going,” Thomas said, since it sounded as though Richard wanted to.  

“Is anyone going to ask if I mind?” Morrow asked.  

“You can read there just as well as anywhere else,” Richard pointed out.  “The rest of them will be too busy shooting and fishing to bother you.”

“Oh, all right,” said Morrow, resignedly.

[sunevial]

The Silvertongue annoys the followers.

(The following only exists because this motherfucker exploited the fact that if you throw a character concept at me, I will likely do something with it. TL;DR, get ready for fae shenanigans.)

---

Given the depths of her responsibilities, there were few times Bookkeeper felt as if she could afford a break. The Library could run without its librarian, but she was loath to leave it unguarded for long. Even so, she understood the need and merits of the occasional break, and so she decided to humor Witch’s request to go on a picnic. It had been a long time since the two of them had long stretches of time to talk, and she did appreciate Witch’s cooking.

In her own defense, she should have asked when and where said picnic would be taking place. Had she known it would be a Yule festival, her answer would have been much different.

“Finally got something to drink,” Witch said, pushing her way to their spot under the trees and plopping down. A great silver pitcher rested in her hands, wrought with fine leaves and flowers, delicate in a way that confirmed it was made by fae hands. “All the mulled wine we could ever want and then some.”

“Even if it’s insufferably loud here, I suppose I can’t complain about the food,” Bookkeeper said with a sigh, tipping back her glass of wine and downing the entire contents with a single swig. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, and she knew better than most what that meant. Because it was true, even with all of the revelry taking place around their little corner of the festival, the food was delicious. Roasted meats of all varieties, steaming hot pies with fruit and freshly butchered meats, mulled wine, spiced ciders, all manner of delicacies meant to stave off the cold and the dark of winter. “And this would technically mark the first time I would have properly attended a Yule festival.”

“That’s right, you were in Egypt and Christianity was already kind of a thing,” Witch said, biting into a venison pie. “These things are great if you know who’s running the show. Just don’t piss off the host and have a good time.”

She nodded, eyes flickering around to the fae gathered in the great circular clearing. Their forms were flickering, shifting and hard to grasp, but the biting cold of winter was present in their eyes and in their smiles. The Winter Court, beautiful and cold and cruel, and most important, at the height of their power. “I have no intentions in doing so, especially not as a guest of the Good Neighbors, but how exactly did you get invited to something like this?”

“All those aligned with the courts should attend when the call is given,” a voice said, cold and biting against the wind. A figure stood not two steps from the edge of the tree, skirting the edge of the shadow as if it was a challenge. They were regal, copper-tinged blond hair long and blowing between their musk oxen like horns. Perhaps more reserved in comparison to many of the other powerful fae in attendance, they were draped in a woolen blue dress with white fox fur around the neck and hem. No cloak hung over their shoulders, but magnificent white swan wings sprouted between their back. “Even those who are not fae.”

“Yes, I suppose that would be the case,” Bookkeeper replied, knowing her colleague had many deals with fae of all sorts, kind and unkind, seelie and unseelie, summer and winter. Even so, due to their nature, it wasn’t surprising that Witch would be counted in winter’s cold grasp. “Though I hope you don’t mind an unexpected guest.”

“There is food and drink for all who wish to partake,” they said, eyes twinkling with the same harsh blue that reflects off of snowbanks. “And a friend of the good Witch is a friend of ours.”

Witch cleared her throat a touch, smiling as she did so. “Presenting Silvertongued Words Between Winter Trees, Noble of the Winter Court, or just the Silvertongue,” she said, words much more formal than Bookkeeper was used to hearing out of Witch’s mouth. “They’re a liaison between the shop and the wider courts.”

“The pleasure is mine.” Bookkeeper nodded respectfully, knowing to choose her words carefully from this point forward. “You may call me the Bookkeeper of the Murder God, Admiral of the Scroll, or simply the Bookkeeper.”

The fae regarded her carefully for a moment, nodding slowly as she spoke in such a careful manner. “Wise in the way of dealings, so I see.”

“One has to be in places with unfriendly faces,” she replied, stare equally as hard and uncompromising. “And I am not some mortal who has to be concerned with theft of something not mine to begin with.”

Silvertongue laughed, light and cold but seemingly amused in the moment. “Witch, I am hurt you did not think to introduce us sooner. It has been a long time since I have met someone so well versed in the way of words.”

“Well, of course she is,” Witch said with a beaming smile. “There’s none better in the art of words and paper than our Bookkeeper.”

“You have spoken quite highly of her in the past, and I can see why that would be the case.” They stepped two paces closer, eying them both with carefully narrowed eyes, sparking with the kind of chaotic mischief that can only come of a fae born and bred. “Had I not known of your relationship beforehand, I would assume you two were proud lovers.”

In a remarkable showing of emotional volatility, Witch’s entire face turned redder than the pie in her hands.

Bookeeper, on her part, was glad a hat covered her ears.

“Well, then we will have to be content that your assumption need not be made,” she replied, pouring herself and Witch another glass of wine. “Because we are not, and it is not wise to lie on fae grounds, yes?”

They simply nodded in response, glancing up to the frost covered branches for just a moment. Their smile turned sharp. “It is equally not wise to ask questions, good Bookkeeper.”

In a show of strength, she smiled back, sipping at her wine. “Perhaps not, but it has been a pleasure making your acquaintance all the same,” she said, taking a bit of bread and setting it on her plate. “I do hope you enjoy the festivities.”

“As do I,” they replied, curtsying and all but vanishing into the rest of the party.

Bookkeeper sighed, glancing to Witch and giving a knowing stare. “Fae.”

“Fae.”

[mrsrcbinscn]

Wilbur Is Not Amused || The Robinsons

@wilbur-robinson​, @mrrcbinson​

Tl;DR: Franny and Cornelius tell Wilbur about the baby. It does not go well.

Date: August 23rd, 2020

 FRANNY:

 So about telling Cornelius she felt fine...turns out that was a lie. Once she got to her ninth week the morning (and noon, and night) sickness began. It got to the point she made excuses to be out during dinner time because she didn’t want to tell the family she was pregnant yet, but she couldn’t actually keep food down. Water and crackers were all that was on the menu these days. Even the foods she was craving she couldn’t actually enjoy! It was frustrating, but overall she was thrilled. 

 Due to her age and her history of miscarriages her doctor wanted weekly ultrasounds to keep an eye on the baby. Now at eleven weeks pregnant and rapidly approaching the second trimester, everything looked great. The baby had a strong heartbeat according to her doctor and that was all Franny had really hoped for. While eleven weeks wasn’t fully out of the danger zone for the most common window for miscarriage, she realized she couldn’t hide it much longer. They’d almost gotten caught already! 

 When Tallulah offered her a glass of wine at Wilbur’s birthday party — the fake one, the one with the family that they always did — she made up an excuse about being on a drinking hiatus to lose weight. Franny hoped her hands hadn’t instinctively gone to touch her abdomen like her brain had been telling her to do. 

 Eleven weeks with a strong heartbeat was already more than she had expected. It seemed like the right time to tell their family and Cornelius as ever took her lead on this. They told his parents first and Lucille squeezed Franny’s hand and reminded her that by loving their son, she’d already fulfilled all of their wishes for their family, and giving them Wilbur was just a pleasant bonus. Franny of course cried. What else could she do? Lucille was sometimes too ridiculously good to her. 

 Next it was Wilbur, and after Franny had stopped crying courtesy of Lucille being too damn wonderful, they called him into their bedroom to talk. Being on her feet was getting tiring, so talking at the window seat in their bedroom just felt more practical than sitting Wilbur down in his room. It was nap time right after this for the pregnant lady. 

 “Why am I nervous? Are you nervous? Am I freaking out again?” She leaned over to catch Cornelius in a kiss and tangled her fingers with his. 

 CORNELIUS:

 Cornelius was still in shock. He partly couldn’t believe it. Almost didn’t if it weren’t for Franny growing sicker and her weekly doctor appointments. It was weird to imagine that at their age - they might be parents again. Just as Wilbur was on the verge of graduation…

He had been caught up in these thoughts all day. Every time he saw Franny now, actually. But especially today because they were telling everyone. His mother had cried. Actually cried. And then hugged him tight while his father made a science pun about atoms - his mother’s crying in his ears had drowned out the rest, to be honest.

 But the kiss and her touch alone broke him out of his thoughts and he looked to Franny. “Oh! I - more like...well, I don’t know,” He admitted. “I mean, Wilbur’s almost an adult. Legally, at least. I know he can act childish sometimes, but he’s a good kid. I think he’ll be excited. He’ll probably teach them to be like his little sidekick and turn them against us at the age of two.”

 He laughed a little at the joke, honestly believing it to an extent though. But he could get where Franny was coming from. Still, he wasn’t nervous himself. 

 Not until Wilbur came in.

 “Hey, kiddo. Come have a seat, will you?”

 WILBUR:

 Wilbur and his parents didn’t really sit down for important talks often. There were a couple times when he was younger (like when they sat him down to say he might be a big brother, or when they sat him down and said actually no he wouldn’t be and his mum would cry). There were other memorable occasions of course, the last one being a dead relative.

 He started going down a list of relatives that could have kicked the bucket, because there were of course some older ones. But could he play guess who? Or was that entirely inappropriate? Wilbur wandered into his parents room with eyebrows furrowed, debating over whether tact was good or bad in this case?

 Wilbur eyed his mum first and then his dad, debating over who would spill the beans first. Then he shrugged and sat down in one of their chairs. “Okay what’s going on? Who died?”

 FRANNY:

 “What?”

 Franny had a brief spiel loosely prepared but Wilbur’s comment threw her off track. Died, huh? No this was the opposite hopefully. Next week would mark the longest she’d stayed pregnant and her OB/GYN said especially considering her risk factors, her pregnancy was healthy. She couldn’t believe her luck at last after nearly twenty years of marriage. 

 A decade and a half of trying to grow their family, until a few years ago, when Franny’s broken hearts couldn’t take it anymore. Cornelius had always been so good, so understanding, and never once blamed her. She couldn’t say the same for herself. 

 It felt too good to be true and too perfect but yet, here they were. Wilbur was going to (most likely, very likely, it seemed) be a big brother. He’d be so much older than his baby brother or sister but he’d be their superhero and the thought of that made Franny’s eyes prick with tears so she took care not to go there right now. 

 “No, your father and I just have to share some exciting news.” Franny began, tightening just barely her grip on one of Cornelius’s hands. “Wilbur, your father and I found out I’m pregnant. At our age, I know, I thought it was a mistake too but I really am. Twelve weeks; in March you’ll have a little minion to teach to get into trouble. Around your father’s birthday, too...everything looks good this time around. Looks perfect.”

 Franny’s grin almost hopped off her face, it was so wide! She reached for one of Wilbur’s hands and squeezed. “Isn’t that exciting?”

 WILBUR:

 There were a few different things Wilbur would have imagined that they’d have to say. Maybe some Great Uncle bit the dust, or they were planning another trip and they wanted him to give them input. Or maybe they were rethinking his request for a horse. You never knew. Wilbur was willing to be imaginative.

 But then his mum started talking, and Wilbur could feel his heart sink. Not sink, maybe it just fell right out of his body and fell into the sea. The bemused look changed so swiftly, any hint of a smile gone from his face as he paled. He could remember the last time his mum had told him she was pregnant. It was years ago, and Wilbur had just assumed (like an idiot apparently) that they wouldn’t try again.

 Why wasn’t he enough for them anyway?

 Wilbur sucked in a breath and let it out again, forcing himself to try not to blow up. He wanted to. He wanted to so badly, because his parents really didn’t think about him at all did they? Wilbur immediately tugged his hand away from his mother, arms wrapping around himself defensively as he glanced between Franny and Cornelius. He was still waiting for one of them to say ‘just kidding’ but...well his parents wouldn’t pull that kind of a stunt with him.

 Which meant no matter how improbable, no matter how horrible, it must be the truth. “Are you serious? Why would I be excited about this? In what world does ‘my mum could possibly kill herself again trying to have a real baby’ sound exciting?” Okay, maybe he couldn’t contain it.

 CORNELIUS:

 Of all reactions, Cornelius didn’t expect this one from Wilbur. Especially faced with the beaming face of his mother right now. But the moment his face changed, he knew something was wrong. And - 

 Real baby? What did that even…

 “Wilbur, what do you by real baby? You’re our real son,” Cornelius began slowly, his mind trying to process everything. Something that was so exciting and joyous suddenly turned sour and was about to become a fight. One that would not be easily fixed either. “Its….you’re not be replaced, if that’s what you’re getting at. Or forgotten or any of that.”

 Considering both of them were orphans, he could put himself in Wilbur’s mindset in a way. But not much. Because this reaction was just - shocking. Were they being selfish though? Were they bad parents to bring this up at Wilbur’s age? He turned to look at Franny, his brows coming together in concern.

 FRANNY:

 Franny first felt white hot anger at her son’s reaction. It was as if for a brief moment she resented him as much as she’d ever loved him. 

 (And briefly, she was angry at Cornelius for not at least gently chastising him for yelling at his mother, but she reminded herself that Cornelius was a better person than she was. He heard Wilbur’s hurt first, whereas Franny first tuned into the anger. Thank god Cornelius was here. She would have shouted right back if not for him.)

 How dare he, she thought though. Now, she expected her son to make a joke about how old she was. She wasn’t stupid enough to think Wilbur, a happy only child, would be thrilled. She expected, however, a quick ‘oh? Cool. Anyway is that all?’

 What she didn’t expect was such a reaction. 

 How dare he, in one instant, rob her of her joy. Franny’s heart sank as she thought to herself this is a mistake. 

 And as quickly as her anger appeared, it subsided, as it always did when she was angry with Wilbur. His words cut but after feeling the impact of those words it was as if she pressed pause on her hurt to instead focus on Wilbur’s, because that’s what moms are supposed to do. 

 She could cry to Cornelius later or perhaps her mother, but who could Wilbur go to? He usually sought her out for comfort but who now?

 “Wilbur…what are you saying?” Franny said quietly as her face fell, before for once in her obnoxious life, she struggled to find words. “You’re not...it...it was an accident, we didn’t mean—“ wait. Was she about to apologize for being pregnant? She sighed and her hand flinched to reach forward and hold Wilbur’s hand, play with his hair, anything, but he’d batted her hand away not a moment ago. “Wilbur, honey. You are our real baby. There is nothing we love more than you and being your parents. Nothing, honey.”

 WILBUR: 

 Honestly, Wilbur thought it was pretty clear what he meant. He was being replaced. By a younger model that would probably be nicer than Wilbur and more likeable than Wilbur because they wouldn’t be as bratty as he could be. They’d probably “try to get it right” this time, and where would that leave Wilbur? Miserable.

 “Really?” He asked, and he couldn’t help but snort. Of course he’d be forgotten. A baby would demand all their attention, and when Wilbur would need them for college things or anything else, he’d probably get ignored. His whole family would probably coo at the baby and focus on what it wanted and needed and he’d be pushed by the wayside. Wilbur wasn’t stupid. He knew babies needed a ton of attention.

 “Why would you still care about having another baby? That’s what I just don’t get! Mum was always so messed up by this shit, and yet that’s always been it. ‘Why can’t I have a real baby to take care of?’ You didn’t say it in as many words, but the implication is pretty fucking clear.” So what if Wilbur was a bit spoiled? Who were the people that had spoiled him in the first place? Oh yeah, it was them.

 He didn’t look forward to watching the way his mum would try to do things differently so this baby, their actual biological one wouldn’t turn out like him. He hated it. He hated it he hated it. He was going to be sick. “I can’t believe you’d do this now! What, I’m going to go off to college soon so it doesn’t matter what I think? That’s great really. Have fun with your new family.” He stumbled to his feet. He needed to get out of here. He wanted to cry, but he was nothing if not determined to do that in the comfort of his own space, without the people who hurt him around.

 FRANNY:

 “Wilbur!” Franny exclaimed, springing out of her seat but not advancing toward her son. She wouldn’t force him to stay but he wasn’t going to storm out without one final attempt to reach him. 

 And, yeah, maybe she said his name in the ‘I’m gonna kick your ass’ tone but with the way he was speaking to his parents right now did he expect any different? His words were hurtful not only to her as his mother, but as a person in general. Franny kept her composure enough to keep from well and truly yelling at Wilbur but under the far too consistent volume of her voice was boiling anger.

 “What do you mean ‘new family?’ For once would it kill you to not be so over-dramatic. Like I just. I just wanna know. You know damn well, Wilbur, that plenty of families have more than one child in them. We wanted a big family because we just did, okay? We just did. There’s no other explanation. We just wanted that. But your father -” 

 Never slowed down. Never could press pause so we could adopt again so I had to try the old-fashioned way even though my body kept telling me I couldn’t do it.

 “- and I just kind of shelved that for the most part. We stopped tryin’ years ago, I didn’t get pregnant to piss you off. Believe it or not, the world doesn’t revolve around Wilbur Robinson. Sometimes it just happens. What was I supposed to do when I found out I was pregnant, huh? What would have made you happy?”

 A beat, and Franny pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. 

 “Get out. Go to bed. Or don’t, I don’t care, just get out.”

 WILBUR:

 So the world didn’t revolve around Wilbur. He knew that already. His mum made it even more clear that he wasn’t that special. He wasn’t enough for them. He’d never been enough for them. If he had, then his parents wouldn’t have cared about a big or a small family. They would have just let that baby stuff be and loved him. 

 Why did mum think he was overdramatic? It wasn’t overdramatic to realize he was being replaced! It would be different if they’d adopted or had another kid when he was still little, when it was a normal thing to do. This wasn’t normal. He’d never felt so unappreciated in his life, and he’d had his moments of doubt. 

 “Oh I know the world doesn’t revolve around me. And it never will, because that new baby’s just going to replace me and that’s just great. I’m glad you get a do over to have a better kid.” And since he was already in it, and he’d clearly already pissed off his mum too, Wilbur headed out, both middle fingers waving at them as he made his way out. He’d break down once he was alone. He wouldn’t cave until then.

[kisskissbanggang]

OKAY Nothing to see here, this is me sobbing all over and responding to some feedback my darling @starxblossom has snuck into my submissions SO DON’T MIND ME I’M HAVING A MOMENT

tl;dr : you are talented

It’s bizarre how bizarre it is to read this sentiment. Let me set the scene for you: I had an awful end to my day yesterday where I had a forest fire to put out on my desk before I left the office and left a bunch of work behind. I woke up this morning, almost cried over your message in my box, and it helped me feel energized enough to go into the office for the morning when I wasn’t scheduled to do so and finish my leftover work. I had a particularly awful development during this morning where I went to the office and didn’t need to, and I came home feeling like a pile of dirt, cooking in the hot summer sun. So I needed this when I read it again and could read it more in-depth. 

To be perfectly candid, I would really go so far as to say that you’ve played your best cards yet in writing The Sabotage of Simkung House. It’s everything I’ve loved you for, and so, so much more. I mean, complex yet realistic main character? Yes. Interesting and well-fleshed out reality? Yes. Smut scenes that makes me squeeze my legs shut? Yes I mean what, I didn’t say anything. And a delicious collection of characters with such vivid personalities that I, well and truly, understand them as real people? Yes. TSOSH is a masterclass in not only writing an interesting and very original take on the smut genre, but also a thrilling read from start to finish. 

This sentiment by itself floors me. I had meant for TSOSH to be an easy and indulgent thing to crank out with a bit of a complicated plot thrown in to keep me on my toes, but I never meant for it to be deep. I never meant for it to feel either grounded or grand. I hate to think I’m propping myself up here, but this was another thing that was supposed to be dumb. I think that means I found something I like doing, that it feels like something I can just throw myself into and it feels easy.

Between this, Prowl, and those untitled assassins!Stray Kids drabbles series, I’m really excited to see you dive deeper into the thriller genre. You have a real knack for it, for making me nervous, and tense, and sitting at the edge of my seat, screaming at my screen. Perhaps I should have picked up the subtle tendencies towards thrillers in your older works, perhaps even the art of writing smut is a thriller in itself, but you have such a wonderful control over your scenes, especially when it’s right in the action, in the moment. The picture is vivid, breathing life into sentences as the reader falls into the worlds you’ve created. 

This is also hilarious to me in a cosmic way. The scripts I had put down when I truly quit writing were a heist comedy based on my time delivering pizzas, and a sci-fi adventure, both with thick thriller elements. I like exciting movies, I like exciting books, I like exciting music and art, so I suppose it jives with the lore here that I enjoy writing exciting material as well. The pervasive emotion in all my memories is tension. It’s what makes rollercoasters and first kisses fun.

I don’t know if there’s anything I didn’t immediately love with TSOSH. I think the idea itself felt so original that it was hard to analyse it, given that I have nothing to really compare it to. That sounds mean, but I simply mean that I’ve never seen this type of story done before, therefore I don’t know if there’s a right or wrong way to write this kind of plot. My only non-complaint might be that I wished it was longer, if only so we could spend more time with the other characters. I feel like there were characters whom I felt like I knew better than the others, whose stories and motivations were clearer than the other characters; but honestly this is a light complaint, given that the story is meant to be fast-paced, and there were really only two or three characters integral to the story.  

I think this is where I was first convinced this idea was truly dumb and over-indulgent, honestly. It is a funky-ass plot, honestly, and I don’t mean that in a self-aggrandizing way. But I have always been a huge supporter and advocate for sex work, and have been fascinated with more socially repressive cultures when it comes to sex (having been raised Catholic but not Too Catholic by pretty modern Gen X parents.) Sex vlogs and shows have been a growing market in the past twenty or so years, and I think the ethics surrounding that is wacky as hell. I wish it were longer already, too. I keep humoring ideas of a post-mortem or epilogue or even a sequel (I think I set up Too Many threads alluding to this desire) but my number one fear is not letting go of my babies. I had wanted to dig into where all the boys got casted from (which I got to touch on with Jisung and Hyunjin, at least), or get into more Felix antics, or, you know, more of Noesengnam House and how different it is to film both shows, but I couldn’t find space in the pacing. 

I’m honestly so impressed by TSOSH. I was really lost in this world, I was invested in every aspect, in the emotional stakes, in the competition, in the show, in the entire mystery itself. I even skipped the warning tags each time because I didn’t want to spoil anything for myself [which is bad, I know. But I trust your stories. You’ve never thrown anything that I couldn’t handle]. When I tell you that I screamed, I literally screamed; usually into a pillow, so as to no alarm anyone nearby. When I tell you that I threw my laptop out the window - well, okay I didn’t do that one, but I almost did !! I’m rarely ever so sucked into a story as this one, but you really had my heart racing. I even caught myself reading lines out loud while laughing because it amused me so much. 

This is so unbelievably humbling to read. I’m so engrossed in this because I’ve been there, I’ve done those things, I’ve had those reactions myself, but to be on the receiving end of a reaction like that is something I never thought I’d experience. It makes me greedy, wanting to pick apart your top moments or what lines you found yourself reading out loud, but I know just like I write for free, you support for free and I’m just grateful that I have your friendship.

In my humble opinion, this has got to be your best work so far. You are honestly so talented, and you only continue to improve with every new piece you upload. Love you Queen ❤️

You make me want to create more great work. You make me want to one-up myself and that’s an exhilarating feeling. I appreciate you, I treasure you, I adore you because you do make me reflect on my own work as a whole. I love you, Queen. ❤️

[unproduciblesmackdown]

i’m very bemused about the developments (nothing really happened lol) re: riawin this episode..........

like naturally her implying like “oh you’re wholly unattractive to me of course” is. not the most encouraging and natch like, i guess overall my takeaway is to be like “well i guess i should brace myself harder for the intention re: this arc to just be that winston has a hopeless unrequited crush and rian thinks he’s alright but is wholly uninterested b/c why would anyone be interested lol” And Yet i still can’t write it off as [winston is just gonna be the butt of the joke as a cringe loser with a fail one-sided crush] b/c like. it still wasn’t entirely clear-cut??? and it’d be really easy to shoot him down even harder / have her be more obviously repulsed and >:/ about it or whatever

like a) complicating factor that nobody’s sober in this scene, though we can maybe read into it as both of them being a bit more Unfiltered than usual and b) complicating factor that it’s been made clear that rian likes to mess with him and has prior insulted him while not Really making it about dunking on him, i.e. her calling him a douche while arguing for him Not being fired, and here it’s like....his attention can’t be Completely cringe and fail to her, in that she’s like. fine to talk to him, obviously he’s at least not like, getting the [oh god the quant being interested in someone? how awful for them b/c that must be so gross and annoying / frustrating for them] and. at the very least rian seems not antagonized l o l.......not saying the most, but it would be Very plausible for billions to have gone that route of like. the Joke being that someone is dealing with the cringe quant’s fail romantic interest

aaaand again i’m moved Slightly more in the direction of “://// guess i’d better at least Expect it could very well just Stay a one-sided crush” like, keep that 60/40 or whatever lol, And Yet.......you’d think that it’d be 100/0 either way by now? as weird as it is that, if this is something that’s gonna Happen, we’re 3 eps in and nobody’s kissed b/c usually billions gets there in 2 episodes so that’s a hell of a slow burn, on the flip side it’s Also weird that we’re 3 episodes in and winston’s been crushing from the start and he hasn’t had that crush entirely shot down either? like, if billions was doing the “joke” of winston being a loser whose Interest / attention is Obviously unwanted and repulsive to whomever is the would-be recipient, it’s hardly cashing in on that joke very much? and it’s odd that this is being so drawn out lmao like. you’d think it’d have let that be a running joke of winston showing his [i have a crush] hand too much and rian going “ugh god” about it a few times and maybe finally dunking him into “I Am Clearly Completely Uninterested” zone but like......while this was, again, hardly encouraging, it hasn’t been That. aaand i’m not sure what billions would be saving that for?

like, even without the behind the scenes, info, 5x05 pretty clearly establishes Winston Has A Crush, and then their content in 5x06 isn’t very heartwarming but it still continues that, and here we have winston clearly like. seemingly not Not as taken with rian as ever even after that would-be disheartening exchange. sure, it Could just be like, putting the emphasis on being Hopelessly smitten or whatever lmao, but like, why are they continuing to set this up???? i suppose they might just at some point forget about it / drop the thread for no reason l o l but let’s assume they Don’t, billions isn’t the most prone to like. something like this being Built Up and then fading out quietly with no mention. so you know, either Relationship happens or a bit of heartbreak does. or i suppose it could be relevant in some totally coincidental way where like, the quant having Feelings plays into something that would otherwise be unrelated in an unexpected way. if this Isn’t unrequited, it’s taking a while to get there by billions standards for sure, and if it’s doomed, it’s Also taking a while to get there, and you’d think billions would lean harder into the Joke of winston’s crush being wholly unwanted and so cringe & fail of him or whatever

like ultimately this has all sure been Very set up and it’s sure weird we don’t really know where this [the Quants] plotline is going lmao like. made it v clear winston has a crush, and for What? which isn’t rhetorical like, seriously, for what lol. cuz going into this i’d’ve thought a) they’d get around to kissing already or b) winston and/or him having ~feelings~ for rian would not come up at all or c) he’d get fully shut down......and it was weird that it Did come up again but he was once more only kind of shut down but not out and out rejected? like, is this just a really slow burn, where she’s continuing to enjoy messing with him for the moment (we know she Knows he likes her and like, despite the lowered filter, it’s weird to arbitrarily bring up how hot you find something or someone or not l o l ....), or i suppose it’s possible she could like him Better as time goes on, billions doesn’t tend to wanna take its time with this stuff, but who knows, it Is taking its time with this one way or another. b/c otherwise like, this is a little mean of the show towards the character lol if the plan is for this to be a 4ever Unrequited Crush and he’s still pining 3 eps in and who knows how many more after this? not like billions has been too interested in being kind to winston, but s5 Has been better for him in some ways for sure, and again it *is* like. telling us for three episodes in a row “winston has a crush” like. okay and what’s going to come of that!!! if the “point” of dragging this out is just like. haha winston has a crush, what an idiot, then that’s like....mean to him lmao & you’d think if it was the point, billions would be Meaner about it, since like, all of s4 was like “look how Everyone is annoyed by winston and expressing this disdain for him and he doesn’t know how to have any social appeal, let’s dunk on him” lol.........and like, the even worse version of that i guess would be like, rian knows he likes her (which we know is true) and it’s entirely unrequited (which Might be true) and she likes messing with him (which seems to be true) and is just like, having fun using his crush as an avenue to thusly mess with him. which would not be nice. hopefully that’s not the case, b/c it doesn’t seem like rian does have any genuine contempt for winston or anything like that, and b/c i wouldn’t want her to be someone who does actually want to talk to him (which does seem to be true also lol) but whose Amusement with him (which has seemed 2 be harmless so far) is like. Does have a contemptuous streak to it where it’s like, she might not want to openly dunk on him or roll her eyes or tell him his metaphors are stupid or whatever, but it’d be more along the lines of like, the inherent Disrespect of viewing him as more a source of entertainment than as a person you’d want to connect with in any way. that would suck & it’d be mean of the show to be like “here’s someone who doesn’t hate winston from the start!!! but she just fundamentally dislikes him in a way that manifests entirely differently, actually” l o l..........this Worst Route would be so unnecessary in so many ways

anyways but yeah just writing out thoughts here and i’m like, well this episode all could’ve been worse lmao, and it’s just a little perplexing why this is The Third Episode In Which Winston Has A Crush and there just hasn’t been any resolution one way or another? like, what is the plan for this. rian kind of going out of her way to imply he’s wholly unappealing sure means that even if he’s clearly sweeter on her than ever that’s sort of......cancelled out by her first saying something about him Would be hot if it wasn’t him, and then by telling him she knows he likes her but just.....changing the subject lol..........like, why wasn’t he just smacked completely down in this episode. it wasn’t encouraging, i’m moving a step towards “well i guess it’s slightly more likely it’s meant to be Eternally Unrequited rather than a total coin toss” but i still don’t feel like it really tipped the scales either way and i wish it would’ve lmao like. if i *did* really think this was nailing the coffin shut i’d embrace that, would rather be bitter about it but have closure going into an indefinite hiatus than not. but this is still weirdly up in the air and yet they’re clearly like “this is a thing!!! winston having a crush on the rian is a thing!!! for these past three episodes” and that’s a long time in terms of Billions Arcs for us to Essentially be in the same place as the end of 5x05. if winston’s feelings aren’t returned and aren’t going to be at any point, why does his crush still matter? why not just let it be like, winston expresses his crush more clearly, rian more clearly lets him know it’s never gonna happen? if they Are gonna kiss or something, why is rian being quite as negative there lmao and why is it getting such a slowburn. it’s definitely a case where Winston’s Feelings Matter and don’t seem to be a total joke, which i appreciate, but i’d also appreciate some resolution here, is the tl;dr i suppose lmao

[naruhearts]

14x13 First-Watch Thoughts: Dean Winchester, John Winchester and Destiel

Before I write a full proper review this weekend (and I plan to write a separate Sam post) (I’ll be missing other key details for sure) let me SCREAM about:

JOHN WINCHESTER FADING AWAY AT THE END OF THE EPISODE LIKE A GHOST INTO THE ETHER as the Winchesters said goodbye to him --> TPTB visually/narratively textualized his ghostly presence like we’ve seen in S13/S14 -- Ghost-Monster-Yeager-Michael epitomized figure. He loomed over Sam and Dean's lives (especially Dean's) as the core toxic remnant of their past that they internalized and which subsequently influenced them to live out their toxic life courses and crippled their healthy self-processes, yet John Winchester’s narrative cathartic (and redemptive) role was fulfilled during Season Who Am I 14.

DEAN: For the longest time I blamed Dad. I blamed Mom too. I was angry. [...]  But to be honest I don't know who that Dean Winchester is [re: letting ‘some other poor sons of bitches’ take Sam and Dean’s place if they were normal].

DEAN: I'm good with who I am.

x

Dean ACTUALLY used his words and disclosed the sources of his trauma and parental neglect *screams* He self-introspected during the dishwashing scene in the kitchen -- the Heart and Home -- by precisely doing what we expected/hoped for him (and Sam) to do: reflecting on their current lives in response to 2003!John Winchester’s resurrection and determining what really holds true value and worth...what holds more fulfilling love and true heart’s desires than a pearl ever could --> Found Family. DEAN, recalling that life is short, accepted his current respective life with Cas and Jack and stressed the self-fulfilling importance of why their lives turned out as such. What they went through since Mary died in 1983 moulded them into who they are today. HE ACCEPTS WHO HE IS!! Dean accepts who Sam is. Sam and Dean, as grown men, become the optimum versions of themselves where their physical, emotional and mental suffering was, of course, undeserved, but also ultimate self-cathartic blessings in disguise: it contributed to their both their psychological resistance and individual journeys towards self-actualization as they create interpersonal bonds with others outside themselves. THEY LET GO.

JOHN: I'm so proud of you boys. I love you both...so much.

x

THE LONG-WANTED AND LONG-OVERDUE PRIDE AND VERBALIZED LOVE FROM A FATHER WHO ABUSED HIS SONS FOR YEARS. He finally told Sam and Dean that he loved them. He asked for forgiveness, and they freely chose to give it, additionally permitting themselves to embrace cathartic closure. Now THAT is how you transform trauma into your self-motivational strength!! In particular, we knew *points at all the extensive John vs Dean meta* that Dean yearned to hear those direct words from John. He yearned for years. For Dean to hear it spill out of John’s actual lips -- to hear John verbalize how much he loves Dean, how he’s proud of the man he has become -- after everything Dean has done for him -- is sheer meta fulfillment executed in the most emotive way. Instead of watching his son die without fostering altruism e.g. 2x01 In My Time of Dying, we see John watching his son LIVE and grow -- exercising his agency, formulating decisions for himself, and finally discovering SELF-WORTHINESS. SELF-LOVE. SELF-ACCEPTANCE. John also told Dean that he “never meant for this. I guess I hoped that eventually you'll get yourself a normal life. A peaceful life. A family.” Well--

Dean told John he does in fact have a family, topped off with the smile of utter happiness on his face. 

He chose his own timeline in which Cas and Jack exist. He chose his Found Family.

x

It’s intriguing to note that, in the context of John hoping Dean would have “eventually” obtained a “normal life” --  a “family” -- for himself, if we go off SPN’s constantly-reiterated narrative differentiations between familial family (brothers) and intimate family (husbands, boyfriends, girlfriend) aka Love and...Love, the unsaid connotation of ROMANTIC family applies here, as @thetwistedwillow​ and I discussed. Sam is Dean’s family, but John isn’t referring to him.

John is referring to Dean getting himself an Apple Pie Life™ -- one that Dean initially tried with Lisa and Ben Braeden but couldn’t sustain; Dean seeking marital happiness outside The Life™ was NOT personally/characteristically feasible. It entailed burying vital truths about himself -- imprisoning his non-performativity -- as a broken man within a broad illusion of Want vs Need whom Lisa also tried and failed to fix...failed to make whole despite Dean once telling her that she comprised his happiness long ago.

Indeed, the present era of Season Cyclic 14 ushers in truth. 

Dean has a family with “someone who understands The Life™.”

This aforementioned Life™ -- regardless of it being full of pain, horror, and death -- offers Dean joy, security, and new beginnings. 

Cas and Jack, willingly choosing to incorporate themselves into The Life™, are the mirrors of freedom to Lisa and Ben’s jagged misfortunes. 

They accept who Dean is wholeheartedly. They lend him purpose, zeal, and love -- buckets of love. They are aware of his faults. They encourage his strengths. They represent his faith and his hope.

(Cas, more than anyone, is indelibly aware of Dean’s capabilities.)

In terms of communication, Dean told his brother Sam that he loves him in 14x11 [for attempting to find another way re: Michael]. He directly told his mother Mary that he loves her in 12x22. Tonight he finally told his father John that he loves him, too. ALL the emotional honesty and transparency, my friends!!

Who else is left for Dean to say such significant words to? WE JUST DON’T KNOW!

- - - - 

14x13 practically crossed off most of this + my entire SPN300 checklist!!!

- CHOSEN FAMILY VS FOUND FAMILY themes - S14 Dean encountering/hearing about the Castiel of Old—the Angel of the Lord who hasn’t yet built a trustful and ever-complex ten-year relationship with him - Sam finally rectifying and clarifying things with John as a grown man!! TPTB know what 14x13’s premise means for Mary Winchester and TFW’s characteristic arcs aka EMOTIONAL CHARACTER-DRIVEN NARRATIVES. They are facing their pasts and must subsequently introspect and FINALLY act upon their WANTS vs NEEDS. Bros (Dean the Emotional Hero of SPN in particular) may have wished John was alive, but is it worth losing Cas and Jack? - Is it worth losing the real Cas Dean knows? Worth replacing the angel who executed his own choice to Fall, embodied his newfound humanized principles and willingly became part of Dean’s life? - (And here the focal point of the Destiel-adjacent 14x13 narrative comes in) If John didn’t die, Dean’s life course progression towards self-actualization (with Cas as a key aspect of his psychological realizations; Dean and Cas as both each other’s offsets to healthy self-process) wouldn’t have happened. Losing Mary—losing John—ALLOWED Dean to, despite all the unfortunate circumstances, endure necessary pain in order to heal…to: A. release himself from the shackles of predeterminism, Brodependency, parental absenteeism, repression, toxic misemotionality, and trauma + eliminating the old perceptions of himself as a blunt tool: his father’s hammer and society’s hammer and B. embrace his reflection that he sees in the mirror of his identity - Is alive!John truly what Dean WANTS? What he NEEDS? Dean and Sam, confronted by personal ultimatum in terms of their individual relationships with John and the psychological states/growth stages his death left him in, must decide! - TL;DR character development - And, of course, proliferation of endgame Destiel in some way (not a BIG way yet, but building blocks) from this point onwards and subtext moving into its final pre-text phase as I hope/expect Dean to choose his reality with Cas

(I’m expanding on the last point in a bit!!)

I have LOTS of additional thoughts (tbh they’re all an incoherent jumble lol), but as of now I’d like to say that nothing else can surpass the heartwarming satisfaction that bloomed in my chest over the way Dabb and Glynn beautifully interweaved the narrative’s Family/Love/Forgiveness/Self themes into an episode full of amusing callbacks e.g. Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magical Menagerie (there were a LOT of easter eggs I tell you) and heavy-weighing characteristic ones e.g. Goodbye Stranger Destiel redux -- and oh my gosh, the Dean and Cas narrative callbacks we received tonight, where Dean couldn’t believe that OG Cas had NO recollection of him?!

I don’t know about you, but the romantic subtext smacked me in the face; the negative spaces and unsaid verbalizations were glaring. I was, quite frankly, thumping the table in excitement, because alongside the explicit and gorgeously done Lazarus Rising redux scene -- in a PIZZERIA no less *gestures at Cas = Pizza D/C bonding meta and romantic connotations* -- Sam and Dean confronting OG Cas depicted Dean and Cas' current relationship and dual growth reverting to zero in this AU.

It was a painful encapsulation of the unstable past vs healthy present. 

Castiel the Angel of the Lord was non-humanized and never saved Dean from Hell. Emotional detachment and warrior-obedient violence resurfaced as his characteristic markers.

x

Dean, whom Cas --  from the point of first contact in realtime canon -- forged a profound bond with (the bond that proliferated into an intrinsically complex underlying romance narrative which worldwide audiences have been devoutly privy to) was struck by harrowing shock here, and TPTB took intentional liberties to visually fixate on Dean. Sam, on the other hand, reacted via wariness, and he was placed in the periphery -- blurred out to juxtapose their varied emotions of brother and husband; one of these is, as per usual, not like the other.

x

Dean realizes the integral role Cas currently holds in his life -- how far they’ve come together, in that the Goodbye Stranger parallel scene between him and Cas has him begging for Cas to stop -- to no avail -- and my heart lurched awfully when Cas made no move to do so. Dean fails in breaking his personal Naomi bred-reminiscent Soldier coding because we all know this certain iteration of Cas never freely chose Humanity. 

He never Fell, never embodied the human principles of free will/autonomy and self-identity, never found kinship, and never fell in love with Dean. 

Keeping the above in mind, when the real Cas comes back to the bunker after the ever-palpable and necessary self-catharsis that occurred during his absence, TPTB’s narrative brings the episode’s thematic premise of WANT vs NEED full circle as Mary, Sam, and Dean witness his entrance.

Sam and Mary are awed after the temporal fracture ordeal they just experienced, but there lies, once again, a certain cinematographic focus on (12x19-reminiscent) Dean.

x

x

We observe Dean’s onscreen expression of raw appreciation and self-conviction in that he has realized, amongst the throes of meta-laden cathartic self-acceptance, that everything he encountered since childhood -- the good, bad, in-between -- was worth it. This current canon reality is his heart’s deepest desire. He accepts it. He WANTS it.

For Dean Winchester, a life without Cas is no life at all.

RATING: 10/10

[divinerot]

i   think   that   might   be   lysithea   avery   ;   last   time   i   saw   her   was   in   the   slytherin   common   room   .   i   heard   she   works   as   an   unspeakable   in   the   death   chamber   now   .   the   twenty   -   one   year   old   pure   -   blood   apparently   looks   a   lot   like   courtney   eaton   ,   though   i   have   no   idea   who   that   is   .   some   say   she   can   be   compelling   and   shrewd   .   although   ,   i   have   heard   she   can   also   be   haughty   and   impious   .   i   have   no   idea   what   side   she’s   on   ,   but   if   i   had   to   guess   ,   i   would   say   death   eaters   .

hi   i’m   bailey   &   a   lot   of   this   is   kind   of   open   -   ended   bc   i   don’t   wanna   lock   myself   in   too   much   /   i   am   also   just   a   forgetful   dumb   of   ass   ,   bt   !!   jhgfndjdjnhf   i   .   i   tried   .   it’s   3am   ,   i’m   tired   .   ..   i   started   drafting   some   replies   &   such   ,   bt   unfortunately   i   don’t   think   i’m   gonna   get   to   them   until   later   on   simply   bc   my   eyes   are   fighting   me   to   stay   open   .

TW  :   death   mention   .

CHARACTER   TROPES   .

light   is   not   good   ,   badass   bookworm   ,   dark   action   girl   ,   family   honor   ,   the   proud   elite   ,   it   amused   me   ,   sadist   ,   mad   scientist   ,   putting   on   my   thinking   cap   ,   kids   are   cruel   /   teens   are   monsters   .

QUICK   BACKGROUND   .

one   of   the   prestigious   sacred   twenty   -   eight   ,   the   avery’s   have   been   renowned   for   many   generations   .   the   current   head   of   family   ,   claudien   ,   is   a   potioneer   ,   but   most   notably   spent   his   own   school   days   at   hogwarts   following   around   tom   riddle   —   correction   :   the   dark   lord   ,   voldemort   —   as   ‘   inner   circle   ’   ,   later   becoming   one   of   the   first   knights   of   walpurgis   /   future   death   eaters   .

born   the   thirtieth   of   april   ,   lysithea’s   father   was   disappointed   she   was   not   his   long   awaited   heir   .   and   unfortunately   ,   the   delivery   was   so   much   strain   for   her   mother’s   body   that   she   ended   up   passing   .   despite   being   initially   unwanted   by   her   remaining   parent   ,   lysithea   grew   up   well   enough   ;   treated   like   any   other   child   in   their   society   ,   spoiled   and   rotten   .   eventually   claudien   remarried   a   few   years   after   –   he   had   high   hopes   his   second   wife   would   bear   him   sons   .   however   those   wishes   fell   flat   as   three   more   daughters   cried   out   year   after   year   ,   forcing   themselves   into   the   world   ,   into   this   family   .

no   one   quite   knows   when   the   shift   in   ideology   happened   ,   but   claudien   decided   if   he   could   not   have   what   he   wanted   in   a   son   ,   he   would   forge   and   make   up   for   in   a   daughter   .   being   the   eldest   ,   lysithea   became   his   target   .

perhaps   she   couldn’t   traditionally   carry   on   the   family   name   ,   but   she   could   prove   a   useful   tool   .   a   baby-face   smeared   with   blood   ,   the   false   purity   of   her   white   dresses   contrasted   against   the   black   everyone   else   wore   .   with   her   signature   silk   ribbons   ,   lysithea   became   a   terror   ;   undoubtedly   a   sight   to   tremble   before   .   under   rosy   cheeks   and   coy   grins   ,   a   vicious   and   unyielding   nature   bloomed   .   cruelty   came   eerily   natural   to   her   ,   so   much   it   even   unnerved   her   step   -   mother   ,   creating   dichotomy   between   her   and   her   half   -   sisters   .   it   was   a   chaos   born   from   boredom   and   a   grandiose   sense   of   self   -   entitlement   .   all   because   she   could   .   all   because   her   father   nurtured   her   to   flash   sharp   teeth   after   luring   victims   into   a   sense   of   security   .   she   was   raised   in   his   image   ,   a   nightmarish   testament   to   all   his   iniquity   .

perfection   ,   superiority   ,   consistency   :   three   main   points   to   her   father’s   philosophy   .   ones   she   memorized   as   she   watched   him   intently   in   his   private   potions   lab   ,   impressionable   dark   eyes   following   his   every   move   .   when   lysithea   turned   eight   ,   claudien   took   a   deeper   interest   in   guiding   her   to   what   it   really   meant   to   be   part   of   the   family   :   dark   arts   .   she   was   excited   ,   quickly   becoming   eager   for   more   to   learn   .   and   ,   all   things   considered   ,   it   could   have   been   worse   .   never   once   did   claudien   raise   his   wand   to   his   daughter   ,   as   he   didn’t   need   to   .   lysithea   was   always   so   willing   ,   so   wanting   –   ready   to   do   as   instructed   ,   no   matter   the   cost   .   from   a   young   age   ,   she   wanted   his   approval   and   praise   ,   but   most   of   all   she   wanted   his   knowledge   .

TIME   AT   HOGWARTS   IN   A   GLANCE   .

slytherin   !   within   moments   of   touching   her   wicked   little   head   ,   the   hat   bellowed   out   her   sorting   .   there   was   no   surprise   ,   most   of   her   family   had   been   clad   green   and   silver   as   well   .   only   a   momentary   falter   to   consider   ravenclaw   for   the   young   avery   ,   but   it   was   unmatched   how   she   would   thrive   with   the   serpents   .

she   was   either   too   exuberant   ,   her   harsh   laughter   directed   at   another’s   misfortune   ,   or   she   was   too   silent   ,   not   speaking   to   anyone   for   days   at   a   time   .   however   pranks   and   jokes   turned   more   severe   ,   and   her   casual   cruelty   was   something   that   placed   many   on   edge   .   some   might’ve   said   it   was   a   blessing   when   she   withdrew   herself   ,   others   would’ve   said   it   didn’t   matter   .

although   horrid   personality   coupled   with   a   pretty   face   aside   ,   she   was   an   excellent   student   .   not   even   the   staff   who   disliked   her   the   most   could   deny   that   .   she   did   above   and   beyond   work   in   many   subjects   .   a   downfall   ,   however   ,   would   sheepishly   be   her   disdain   of   written   work   .   she   could   talk   about   it   flawlessly   and   she   could   execute   it   perfectly   ,   showing   a   spell   or   potion   in   full   action   .   but   on   parchment   ,   she   certainly   left   something   to   be   desired   —   much   to   her   biting   chagrin   .   while   written   tests   ,   quizzes   ,   and   exams   were   not   her   friend   ,   she   refused   to   give   up   .   she   would   just   need   to   get   better   .

lysithea   often   turned   towards   one   of   her   favorite   subjects   for   chaos   inducing   entertainment   :   potions   .   they’re   only   semi   -   poisonous   ,   she’d   say   with   a   scoff   ,   like   being   nonlethal   canceled   it   out   .   it’s   only   putting   them   to   sleep   ,   she’d   say   with   a   shrug   ,   as   if   it   makes   it   justifiable   .   there   was   an   empty   classroom   in   the   dungeons   ,   presumably   an   older   potion   -   mixing   room   .   if   her   roommates   became   too   bothersome   ,   she   would   find   herself   there   to   brew   in   secret   .   between   advanced   potions   and   alchemy   studies   ,   lysithea   picked   up   an   interest   in   creating   new   things   —   but   they   were   selfishly   made   for   her   sole   benefit   to   torment   her   peers   .   some   habits   die   hard   ,   some   habits   don’t   die   at   all   .   she   was   merely   following   in   her   father’s   footsteps   with   unethical   experimentation   ,   only   on   a   more   junior   scale   unbeknownst   to   her   .   she   wouldn’t   know   the   full   extent   of   anything   until   after   her   graduation   .   one   could   have   also   found   her   searching   the   forbidden   forest   if   they   were   fast   enough   ;   unofficial   ingredients   for   unofficial   brews   came   at   some   risk   after   all   .

OTHER   TIDBITS   /   INFORMATION   .

really   this   whole   thing   has   been   tl;dr   she’s   really   just   a   sadistic   gremlin   thanks   to   her   father   ig   ,   but   truthfully   she   would’ve   turned   out   awful   even   without   his   influence   .

upon   graduation   she   received   a   dark   mark   ,   much   to   the   pride   of   claudien   .

works   as   an   unspeakable   in   the   death   chamber   ,   although   often   helps   her   father   with   potions   on   off   days   /   when   it   comes   to   experimentation   for   lord   voldemort   .

her   wand   is   blackthorn   wood   ,   wyvern   skin   core   ,   hard   ,   9.5   inches   ;   a   family   heirloom   of   sorts   ,   tracing   all   the   way   back   to   her   great   -   great   -   great   -   great   grandfather   .   she’s   the   first   witch   out   of   a   long   line   of   wizards   to   use   it   .

in   her   seventh   year   at   hogwarts   ,   her   class   list   was   :   advanced   potions   ,   charms   ,   transfiguration   ,   dada   ,   alchemy   ,   and   ghoul   studies   .   she   was   also   a   participant   in   slug   club   and   potions   club   since   fourth   /   fifth   year   .

her   patronus   is   nonexistent   ,   as   her   true   dark   affiliation   prevents   her   from   casting   the   spell   .   however   if   she   was   able   ,   it   would   take   shape   of   a   fox   .

her   astrology   core   four   are   as   follows   :   taurus   sun   ,   capricorn   moon   ,   gemini   ascendant   ,   aquarius   midheaven   .

due   to   her   mother   passing   during   /   after   childbirth   ,   lysithea   could   see   thestrals   before   any   activities   ,   illicit   or   otherwise   ,   had   her   bear   witness   to   death   .

prefers   tea   to   coffee   and   has   a   secret   sweet   tooth   .

moral   alignment   is   somewhere   between   chaotic   neutral   and   neutral   evil   .

[rezares]

a watercolor sky || war & peace

@spindlesandrosethorns​

tl;dr: The one where they are simultaneously worse than, and not as bad as, Ross and Rachel

Word Count: 4112

Date: March 9th, 2020

AURORA

You know when you have a cup of coffee that is far too hot to drink, but you keep taking sips anyways? Even though it burns your mouth? It just tastes too good to stop.

‘Sex with Reza’ had apparently become Aurora’s cup of too-hot coffee.

In her defense, she had never thought it would continue. Sure they’d had sex in Tunisia (a… few times, actually), but that had been comfort sex! Borne of desperation and near-death encounters and all sorts of weird moral dilemmas and nearly two years of pent up sexual desire. But when they had boarded the plane back to Swynlake, Aurora expected that to be the end and was ready and willing to go back to being just friends.

Yeaaah, that didn’t happen.

Aurora snuggled closer to Reza’s chest, keeping her eyes closed and her breathing even so she could fake sleep just a little while longer. She was getting horribly spoiled, waking up next to Reza at least once a week. She was still naked and a little sweaty under the blanket, doubtlessly sporting a few new bruises, and felt completely content with this moment in the universe. Soon, they’d have to get up and pretend this had never happened - at least around Sabiha, Fadela and Lamia both looked too smug to not know - but for this little slice of morning, Aurora got him all to herself.

REZA

Reza was not bothering to fake sleep. He just didn’t mind laying there, playing with Aurora’s hair, trying his best not to think too hard on the confusing, unfamiliar feelings slowly forming in his chest. It wasn’t that he was against them. Hardly! He wouldn’t have had sex with Aurora the first time, let alone for the past couple months if he didn’t hope to feel those feelings for her one day.

Rory was, in all honesty, the first person he wanted to feel this warmth in his chest for. But he knew from secondhand accounts how infatuation could often disguise itself as love, and as he was someone who always believed himself to be incapable of love, he didn’t want to hurt Rory again. How cruel would it be to tell her ‘I think I’m in love with you’ only to retract that statement once the infatuation wore off?

No, no, he had to make sure it stuck.

Except, this warmth hadn’t left his chest since November. It was March. Was that...not...more than just infatuation?

AURORA

Aurora finally gave up the ghost and leaned into his hand as it played with her curls, humming softly as she tried to open her heavy eyes. Well, she got halfway there.

"Mmm, you're thinking too loud," she teased in a sleepy mumble, accent thick and soft like it always was first thing in the morning. Her hand reached up to smooth out the thoughtful furrow of his brow and then trailed down to his chest as she pressed a soft kiss to his pec. "No worrying before 10 or I'll kick you out."

She would never really. It was winter and Reza was warm. Also she loved the jerk, though that thought was quickly dashed away before her magic could give her away.

(The slowly fading bruise on her chest gave a little throb. The amethyst pendant pressed against her clavicle did as well: although no one noticed.)

REZA

“Am not,” Reza grumbled, very much not ready to be proper awake. “How does someone think too loud when they’re not saying anything? I’m not awake enough to find you funny. Try again in ten minutes.”

The bitching quickly gave way to a soft, tried chuckle. God, she was cute. 

“Go ahead, you can explain to my sisters why you’re coming out of my bedroom at—” he squinted to try reading the clock but gave up “— early o’clock in the morning.”

AURORA

She was hilarious, excuse you. Aurora flicked his chin just enough to sting for a second before pushing herself up the bed so their faces were closer together.

"One, it's an expression, you ass," she murmured with a sleepy grin. "Your face gets scrunchy when you think. Two, bold of you to assume they haven't already figured it out. I'm surprised Lamia hasn't shown up at my flat yet with a 'Congrats on the sex' cake. And three…"

Aurora leaned in, kissing his jaw softly where it was the closest and tucking some of his hair back from his face in the process. "Morning," she whispered, laying her head back on his shoulder with a content little smile. Her leg slid against his as she made herself comfortable, and she giggled under her breath as his hair tickled her thigh.

REZA

God, she’s adorable…

...is what Reza would say to himself if he wasn’t still wishing he was asleep. Instead he just smiled as he closed his eyes, which was a clear sign he was amused. Rory knew him well enough by now to know she was slowly chipping away at the grumpy morning goblin that possessed him before noon.

“Yes, but do you really want to deal with their teasing and-” the kiss shut him up, and he gave a tired laugh. “It’s morning, I’ll give you that.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the shuffling of feet outside of the door, followed by a muffled ‘Sabiha, wait!’ glued his mouth shut and made him wide-ass awake. Shit.

The door handle jiggled, but stopped, as someone certainly had pulled her back.

“But I hear Amma ‘Rora!”

AURORA

Just as Aurora was starting to break through Reza’s grumpy morning layer, there was a commotion outside the door that made Aurora freeze completely solid. Oh fuck.

“Oh my god,” Aurora whispered, wanting nothing more than to sink under the sheets. But no, now was not the time to hide! Or, it was, but certainly not naked in bed with a man she Was Not Dating while his daughter stood outside.

Once Aurora was certain her body hadn’t locked up and frozen from the sudden panic, she sat up to look at the door then back down at her very naked self and her very naked coconspirator. She made panicked eyes at Reza, gesturing silently at the door. Sabiha had already heard her! Should she hide anyways!? Go out and pretend like sex hadn’t happened (several times) the night before?? Shit!

REZA

“Shit.” Reza whispered. 

They weren’t telling Sabiha yet! It was too soon, he wanted to wait a while longer, he wanted to be sure- but there she was, on the other side of the door. He grabbed his jeans off the floor and shimmied into them.

“One second Sabiha, Baba’s gotta-” and as he said this, he threw the blankets over Rory and put a pillow on top of her for good measure.

He went to the door and cracked it open just enough to talk to her.

“Baba, I heard Amma ‘Rora!” Sabiha said, standing up on her tippy toes to try to see.

“What are you talking about, crazy?”

“But I-”

“No, silly. What d’you think she did, climb through the window?” He laughed, ruffling her hair. “Do you want to see ‘Rora today, is that why you’re hearing things?”

Sabiha huffed and folded her arms over her chest. She was right! She knew she was right! But...yes. Yes, she did want to see her Auntie Rory today, thank you.

“Let me finish sleeping, okay, baba? Hey, actually - why don’t you and Lamia go into the workshop and grab a bottle of wake-up potion so I can wake up faster. Then we can go see Rory.”

Sabiha eyed her father but eventually went “...fine.”

Reza made sure to lock the door behind her and waited until he heard her pad down the stairs to address Aurora. “It’s safe.”

He wandered to his closet and threw on a clean shirt, opened his top dresser drawer to grab a dress Rory’d left in his bedroom a couple weeks ago, and brought it to her. 

AURORA

Aurora felt a bit like a child again; hiding under the blankets like the world - read, her aunties - wouldn’t be able to see her if she couldn’t see it. This wasn’t as much fun as that had been; in fact, this was mortifying. Aurora kinda hoped she’d melt into the bed never to be seen again.

She peeked out from under the pillow Reza had shoved on her face when he gave the all clear, pouting a little. “Was the pillow to the face necessary?” she asked, sitting up fully and accepting the dress. She stumbled a bit as she stood from the bed, though if asked she’d blame the narcolepsy and not way her legs were still kind of numb. “I’m not going to have time to get dressed and out before Sabiha comes back,” she whispered.

Where the hell was her underwear?

 REZA

Reza shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed, briefly reaching down to grab Rory’s underwear. 

“That’s not the plan. We’ll go downstairs and when she gets back ‘wow, look who came over for breakfast, what a convenient surprise!’” He explained. 

“...hey. It’s not that I’m embarrassed. I’m not. I just don’t want Sabiha to know just yet.”

AURORA

Accepting her underwear with a quiet, shy “Thank you”, Aurora began to slip her clothing on and figure out what the hell she was going to do with her hair in the next 5 minutes, but Reza’s words caught her off-guard. Embarrassed? ‘Just yet’?

What the heck did he mean ‘just yet’?

Aurora slipped on the straps of her dress but didn’t bother to do up the zipper, instead coming closer to where Reza sat on the edge. “I didn’t think you were,” she reassured, gently lifting his chin so she knew she had his full attention before letting her hand drop to his shoulder. “I mean, I thought you were embarrassed, but not of me,” Aurora amended with a small smile. Lord knows her cheeks were still going back to their normal color.

“But what do you mean you don’t want Sabiha to know just yet?” she asked innocently. She was operating under the impression that Sabiha was never going to find out about Aurora and Reza having sex, even when she was old and grey.

REZA

See, he expected Aurora to come back with a question. The question, though, was supposed to be ‘yeah, but when?’ He had his answer to that at least twelve percent formulated in his head, which was much better than his response to the question Aurora did ask.

His stared at her slack jawed as he tried to explain it to the imaginary Rory in his head without sounding patronizing. When at least a dozen phrasings were thrown out all at once it became apparent he’d be winging this.

Which. 

Is always the thought before winging something he should absolutely not wing.

“I mean that I want to make sure this-” he gestured between them vaguely. “-is sticking around before Sabiha gets any ideas in her head. She’s nine. She adores you. You know what she’d start thinking the second she catches wind that we’re-”

The words ‘together’ and ‘dating’ didn’t sound right to him. What, then?

“-that I’m- that we- we- that I’m trying to understand what having feelings is like. And I’d like to have them for you.”

AURORA

Aurora was starting to get the sense that somewhere along the way, she and Reza had missed some connection and had been drifting along on entirely different tracks. Here she had been, hopelessly smothering the dreams of her broken heart as Reza continued to lavish attention on her- or, at least, the Reza Version of ‘lavishing’.

When apparently, Reza had thought they were more. Enough ‘more’ that telling his daughter about them was a serious concern. Goodness, they should have talked about this weeks ago.

His final words caught her offguard more than anything, her heart tripping in her chest. Did he…? Was he implying…?

There went her heart, jumping away to conclusions, and she could only smile brightly at Reza’s awkward wording. For the first time in months, little blossoms of golden light curled protectively between strands of her hair. They didn’t stick out much, she had learned that lesson well, but it was more than Aurora had allowed herself in weeks.

She giggled, stepping forward until she could perch herself on his knee, her hands coming up to run through his hair before cradling his jaw gently. “You’ll figure it out,” she nearly teased. “There’s no rush.” 

REZA

Reza was far too embarrassed to address the obvious - that he and Rory, until this minute, were not on the same page. It was clear they were now, so he’d spare himself the embarrassment, thank you.

“I— I am aware that I care about you. A lot. But I need to sit with this unfamiliar feeling a little while longer before I want to name it for you. If that makes sense?” He said slowly. 

“I understand though if you can’t do that. I’ve put you through enough, Rory.” Reza smiled at her and played with her hair as he explained. “I just don’t want to rush into giving it a name just because I really want to.”

He wanted to love her. He wished he knew he was capable of that, but he didn’t know for sure and instead he clung to her like he was starved for affection. 

AURORA

Her smile was probably embarrassingly wide, her cheeks tellingly flushed and her eyes too soft and full of everything she’d been hiding in the deepest parts of her broken heart. Aurora should do something about that.

She ducked her head so she was looking at his chest instead, leaning into his hand a little as she resisted the urge to push him back on the bed and just kiss his dumb face all over. Her hands trailed down his shoulders until they were pressed to his chest, his heart beating steady and strong under her hand. She loved him. So much. Even after everything.

“I can be patient,” she promised, playing with the fabric of his t-shirt. “I don’t mind waiting knowing what might be at the end.” If he decided it wasn’t love? Then she’d just have to accept it. She’d risk shattering her heart again a hundred times for the chance that he might love her back. It felt like a naive, foolish sentiment, and she should know better but… this love? This was hers. 

Her magic may not be, her life may not be, but the warmth and love she felt for Reza and his daughter? That was all Aurora. She wanted to cling to that feeling for as long as she could. It was proof that she was more than a vessel.

“I still…” Aurora started shyly. “You know I…” She laughed, tucking her face against his chest. “God, now I can’t talk,” she said between embarrassed giggles. Around the crown of her head, the little golden buds began to shyly open up; peeking out between pink curls. She pulled her legs up so she was properly curled up in his lap, her arms wrapping around his waist.

REZA

Reza zipped her dress up for her as she sat curled up in his lap, lest he be tempted to coax her into discarding it on the floor, and ran his fingers through her hair as she stumbled over talking. His own thoughts and words were clouded by a layer of sleep, so he could only imagine was it was like for her.

“You don’t have to.” He assured her. “Talk, I mean. I understand. And you don’t have to be patient much longer, I just-”

Should he mention the real, final reason for any hesitation?

AURORA

She wanted to melt into him as his fingers ran carefully through her hair, pressing her cheek closer to his chest. If the constant threat of Sabiha returning at any moment wasn’t keeping her awake, she would have fallen right back asleep happily in his lap. But she was awake, and her curiosity was piqued.

Sitting back so she could finally look back at his eyes, Aurora prompted him to continue his thought with a gentle, “Yes?” 

She didn’t want to push, but she also wanted to make sure they were on the same page. Since apparently they hadn’t been doing a very good job of that, recently.

REZA

“Aurora, it is very different, loving somebody else’s child as the cool aunt, versus…” Reza bit his lip and carded his fingers through Aurora’s hair again, careful to make sure he was touching her and showing her affection as he said this.

It wasn’t harsh words, but they were realistic ones that were a bit of a shock to even his system after he all but admitted he was in love with her.

“I’m a single father, Rory. I don’t want you to feel pressured or obligated to...move toward a certain role just because you think you should. And I worry you’re going to feel pressured, or obligated, or — and you don’t. Sabiha is my responsibility. You are welcome to hangout with her, and I’m glad she adores you, but you don’t owe anything to someone else’s child.” He softened his tone even more here. “So don’t feel like you do.”

A child is the biggest responsibility. And Aurora can say she’s okay with it all she wants but you never really know until that child becomes yours to take care of every single day. 

If she really wanted to do this with him, if they were to continue like this and things were going to go really well down the line...eventually she’d be more involved with his daughter. He didn’t want to put either Rory or Sabiha in a position to feel uncomfortable, pressured, or overwhelmed. 

“Sabiha is my world but she is also a bigger responsibility than you can imagine. And I dot say that to patronize you.” Reza brushed the back of her hand against his cheek and held it between his cheek and his hand. “I mean you just really don’t know until you’re raising a child.”

 And he knew the second Sabiha knew that Baba and Auntie Rora were involved, Sabiha would steamroll over his caution tape and jump right into claiming Aurora as some sort of mother figure. He needed to be sure Rory was ready to deal with that before Sabiha could know. 

AURORA

This conversation was going much better than last time, Aurora thought to herself. Didn't hurt that this time it was a warning, instead of a rejection. Or that he was looking at her and touching her instead of sitting on the opposite side of the couch and the world, drinking like it would make her go away.

She turned her hand in his grasp so she could cup his cheek. "I know," she said. "I mean, I know I don't know. But I want that."

Aurora felt obscenely young all of a sudden considering she was rapidly approaching 30, and it was suddenly the most important thing in the world that he understood. She sighed, informing him as she scooted off his lap and back onto the bed "I'm going to talk about babies and marriage for a second here so don't freak out, but I need you to understand." She curled up against his side and sighed, hands clasped together.

"I've always wanted a family," she told her knees. "It's lame and silly but for as long as I can remember I've dreamed of falling in love and getting married and having half a dozen kids to shower in love. And after Carabosse, I had to put all of my dreams away. I… no one wanted a wife who was broken. The only time I got close was practically arranged and it took me far too long to end it. And now I'm here. None of this is like what I imagined, but it's real and it's a disaster and it's beautiful and I love it. I love her. When we were apart it felt like I was missing a limb. And I have no idea what it's like to be any kind of mom to anyone. But I want to. For her. For you."

She finally glanced up at him with a shy smile. "So it's not a burden. It's just something new I need to learn. If you're willing to teach me."

 REZA

A part of him wanted to, as the kids say, yeet out the room. Aurora didn’t say anything wrong, but she was saying things that made it all the more clear to him that he was in the unique position to truly break Aurora’s heart. If Aurora was talking about how he was someone she wanted to raise children with...god, she was in too deep.

And maybe part of him felt the same way, but maybe it didn’t, and he couldn’t just nod and say ‘yes, I’ll teach you’ if he’s not sure he really truly means it.

Sabiha, also, has already had one woman walk out on being her mother and Rafika was her actual biological mother. Reza wasn’t entirely sure he had a heart to protect, but his daughter was another story. His daughter was what was important here and it was because of Sabiha that he was so careful.

“So you understand why I’m being so careful about what she knows and when she knows it.” Reza said. “Sabiha would never forgive me if I let someone else break her heart like Rafika did. And I just want to examine things another minute longer.”

“I don’t think it would be very fair to you to...say I want to move forward and then make you keep a polite distance from her any longer, if you aren’t exaggerating about how you feel about her. So I- I just need a little more time to be sure it’s right. For me, but mostly for her.”

He and Aurora both knew his answer, he was sure she could physically see the warmth all over his chest, but he still felt waiting just a little bit longer was the right move. What if these feelings were fleeting and it was him who hastily broke things off and broke Sabiha’s - and Aurora’s - heart? No, he’d rather push back the inevitable just another week, another sixteen, seventeen days, just to be sure this was going to stick. 

AURORA

For a moment, Aurora was sure she had said something wrong. She'd seen the flash-in-the-pan panic in his eyes and almost wanted to laugh and say 'psych' just to make it go away. But that would be an insult to both of them, so she just sat quietly and waited. Was it so weird that she'd thought about wanting a family with him? They had been a regular part of each other's lives for two years now, she knew what she was signing up for. Did she want to pressure him, of course not!

But he deserved to know what she was willing to offer before he made any decision.

"I'm not in a rush," she told him softly. "About anything. I know nothing is set in stone. Except for the fact that you are kind of my best friend and stuck with me regardless," she joked. "Think I proved that over the past year if nothing else."

Aurora stood up in front of Reza, petting back his hair with both hands before giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Take your time," she murmured, giving him a smile and a quick peck on the corner of his mouth. "I'm gonna clean up real fast before Lamia runs out of distractions and meet you downstairs, okay?"

REZA

“Yeah, I think one way or another, I’m stuck with you, huh?” He said affectionately as she stood up.

There were worse people to be bound to for life, anyway. Short apprentices with Scottish accents weren’t even near the top fifty worst. Maybe in the top fifty-thousand, only because he barely understood a word that came out of her Terminally Scottish father’s mouth. He was not looking forward to probably permanently being linked to Stefan, but hey, at least he was...nice. He thinks. Again, too Scottish. Can’t understand.

“Mm, I’d better keep her distracted long enough for that. I’ll see you in a bit. If Fadela’s not started breakfast I’ll think of something; take your time up here.”

[aegor-bamfsteel]

Thoughts on Shiera Seastar?

There exist four characters from pre-canon, specifically Blackfyre-era that I’d call Complete Monsters, “the most depraved sort of villain utterly lacking in redeeming qualities”: Aerion Brightflame and Aegon IV the Unworthy (least controversially), Brynden Bloodraven Rivers (controversially for fandom, but after his actions in the Great Spring Sickness I consider him utterly reprehensible), and Shiera Seastar Waters. You might not think this label fits her compared to the other three legitimately cruel murderers, torturers, rapists, and tyrants, especially since we know so little about her, but as I explained in an earlier opinion piece, GRRM indicated she goaded her lovers into committing suicide, which for me puts her at the lowest of the low. I can’t imagine being so cruel as to prey on vulnerable people, make them depend upon me for emotional support, and then withdrawing that comfort when I got bored so these people would hurt themselves. I have severe triggers regarding clinical depression, abusive relationships, and suicide, so to see this character praised for being a “complicated, misunderstood woman” rather than a psychological sadist is utterly loathsome; it is for this reason why I tag my hate for Shiera, because she is a canonical female abuser and I wish people other than myself would realize this. However, I’ve talked enough about my opinion of Shiera as a horrible “person” in the earlier piece, so I might speak about the character’s lack of presence in the plot.

Shiera is a character I’m honestly confused exists, especially for this long (since before 2003). From GRRM’s perspective, the protagonist/most important of the “Great Bastards” is Bl00draven, the powerful and ruthless sorcerer who ruled Westeros for generations with an iron first only to re-emerge as Bran’s mentor come canon era. The actions of the other three revolve around him. Aegor is his magic-less “archenemy” who he has to oppose from taking over the kingdom (or else Aegor will…get rid of his authoritarian police state?). Daemon is the man he killed in battle, leading to his “cursed” reputation as a kinslayer, and the father of the other young men he also killed in his and Aegor’s bloody wars of…vengeance? You may think, as I have, why GRRM thought to split Daemon and Aegor into 2 characters. Surely it would make more sense (and be more historically accurate to the Jacobites, who lost none of their sons to battles with the Hanoverians; it’s also more accurate to the anti-hero GRRM may have based BR on, Elric of Melnibone in Michael Moorcock’s Elric Saga, whose rival was his cousin Yrkoon, the brother of his betrothed Cymoril) to have one rebel character oppose Brynden, lose, flee with his family to his wife’s home, and then emerge to fight another day alongside his sons. That would’ve tightened things up as well as make things more personal, since it would be Daemongor’s own children he was pushing for the throne rather than nephews (also it saves us from having to imagine Aegor/Calla and the trite Brynden/Shiera/Aegor love triangle). Frustratingly, I believe it’s to remove any moral ambiguity from the situation; Aegor can be the bitter, violent, opportunistic vengeance-obsessed rival who supposedly doesn’t care about the children he saw grow up, whereas Daemon can be the charming yet easily manipulated tragic hero dead before his time because of a sacrifice BR had to make. Merging Daemon and Aegor together would’ve made the resulting Daemongor character much too sympathetic and complex for GRRM’s precious antihero (of course, if you ask me, even apart they are loads more interesting and likable than a tyrannical egotist), for whom he constantly makes other characters OOC or less competent to give Bl00draven implausible victories.

As for Shiera, she is centered around Bl00draven to such an extent it’s honestly creepy. She is the only “Great Bastard” we don’t know the birth and death dates for (this is important for her negligible role in the narrative, since she may have been as young as 11 by the start of the Blackfyre Rebellion, making any “romantic” relationship she may’ve had with the 20 year old Bloodraven or 23 year old Aegor a clear case of pedophilia). While despite being supporting characters, Daemon and Aegor have interesting relationships apart from Bl00draven (notably with each other; but with Daena, Aegon IV, Quentyn Ball, Gormon Peake, Rohanne of Tyrosh and her 2 oldest children, Daenerys Targaryen, Da3ron II, Baelor Breakspear, even Eustace Osgrey and Maekar for Daemon; Barba and Bethany Bracken, both Lord Brackens, Lord Shawney, Torwyn Greyjoy, Haegon and Daemon III Blackfyre for Aegor), Shiera’s existence is more-or-less completely wrapped around Bl00draven; it is incredibly telling that Egg refers to her not as “the old king’s bastard daughter” or anything referring to their blood relation, but as “Lord Bl00draven’s paramour”. The only other named character she’s mentioned interacting with is Aegor Rivers (of course, in a romantic context), and the only significant action she took in-story is to “choose” Bl00draven over him (she never married him, though, so I’m honestly unsure what this entails); GRRM might do some window dressing about how beautiful or well-read or “dark” she is, but as it stands Shiera is a shallow Love Interest who, despite never “officially” marrying her lover, is so completely defined by him that even that is made all about his feelings (”it amused her more to make him jealous”). Her existence is made even less significant when Bl00draven reveals in aDwD that he never “loved” her at all according to his definition; that emotion is reserved for his ‘brother’, while he only ‘desired’ a woman who now haunts him, so her most important relationship isn’t even considered as important by the other person. You could merge Daemon and Aegor and still have the plot make sense, but you could take out Shiera entirely and absolutely nothing would be lost except Bl00draven no longer has a girlfriend (and not an average noblewoman; no, she has to be the most beautiful woman in history and an almost princess who is also a sorceress who maybe bathes in human blood because Seven forbid Bl00draven reveal actual depth to his character as someone who Just Wants to Be Normal despite his albinism in a sweet Bran/Meera parallel) and another reason to angst. Sure, Bl00draven has Shiera as a lover while Aegor doesn’t, but there are more political and personal reasons for Aegor’s resentment, and having it be over a love triangle is vastly cliche and a disservice to all three characters, as underdeveloped as one might be.

tl;dr Shiera is the epitome of a Shallow Love Interest and Distaff Counterpart to the Protagonist Bl00draven, which in other cases I’d like to see more developed, but her psychological sadism hits such a personal chord with me that I hate what little personality she has. I’m honestly glad she’s such a nonentity that I receive so few questions about her.