#In all honesty i actually really liked those scenes

[drag0nalias0]

Me at the beginning of reading Dungeon Meshi: Wow they'll eat anything in this dungeon haha :)

Me after finishing all current chapters of Dungeon Meshi: .....wow....they'll really eat *anything* in this dungeon won't they.....huh........

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Constantine Is Having Fae Problems

Not as in 'problems with the fae', but as in 'the Batfam don't understand shit about fae and it is somehow Constantine's problem'

"Thank you."

Whatever thoughts Constantine had before come to a screeching halt. He slowly turns around, praying he's misheard, but, unfortunately, no. He heard that right.

The black-haired kid - he looks like a kid, but, really, he is not, and he is not even human to begin with - is smiling at Nightwing, who just laughs and ruffles the boy's hair.

"Don't worry about it, it's nothing," the moronic eldest batkid says, like it's not a big deal, and Constantine just... can't. He is not dealing with this right now. He needs a drink.

And then it happens again. Not with the Nightwing, though. This time, it's Black Bat. Now, in all honesty, Constantine is not so sure about her being human either, what with her appearing out of goddamn aether and being silent as a ghost, but the point still stands. The new addition to Bat's menagerie of children, the fae boy, the changeling who insists he is Robin's brother, thanks her.

It's quick and easy, just like a human would say it, and Black Bat just nods back at him, but Constantine knows what it means. He knows the weight of fae gratitude.

The big question is, do the Bats know it?

He promises himself to address this issue later with the Big Bat himself. But every time he encounters the man, he just forgets to bring it up. Constantine strongly suspects it's not his bad memory at fault here, but a certain fae. Not that he is going to outright go and blame the damned creature, of course, Constantine values his life, mind, and consciousness. Also, he is very aware of the consequences of talking to the fae, unlike the furry brigade.

Alas, he can't forget something if he witnesses with his own eyes. So the next time he is in the Batcave, he makes it a point to wait until the same thing eventually happens. And, score for Constantine, it does.

"Thank you," the kid - again, not a kid, not a human, but whatever - tells Red Robin, and Constantine immediately snaps his head to him, pointing a finger at the smiling fae.

"I mean no disrespect, but what are you doing?"

The kid - Danny, as he insists to be called, although Constantine knows better than to call a fae by any name - tilts his head to the side. He looks confused, but there's a sly glint to his blue eyes. Oh, the fucker knows exactly what he means. He just doesn't want to admit to it.

"What do you mean?" It's not him, but Red Robin asking, and Constantine turns to look him in the eyes. Mask. Whatever.

"He is thanking-" a terrible thought crosses Constantine's mind, and he stares at Red Robin with horror, "Oh, don't tell me you were all thanking him and apologizing to him like he is a human being."

"I don't see how this is your business," Red Robin scolds, and his eyes narrow. Constantine can't see his actual eyes through the mask, but he knows the Bats well enough to know the kid looks as deadpan as he can.

"You can't do that!" He reaches down to the pocket where he keeps his cigarettes, but stops halfway. Right, no smoking in the Batcave. Wait, he never obeyed that rule! Constantine turns to glare at the fae boy. Danny appears as innocent as a newborn baby. Little bastard.

"Quit making a scene," comes another voice, and this one John recognizes, turning to look at little Robin. Now that he thinks about it, the demonic child claimed the fae as his brother, and he definitely should know how to talk to fae!

"Why didn't you tell them about the rules?!" He asks Robin, and the kid doesn't even bat an eye at him.

"You will not accuse me of incompetence in front of my brother," Robin huffs, not stepping closer and keeping one hand on his hip, "I did."

"You-"

"Okay, how about you calm down?" Danny interjects, and John is positive this is the first time he's heard the boy say anything other than 'thank you'. He turns to the fae, facing him, and, oh, Jesus, those are not human eyes. Or teeth. Or face. Holy fuck how do Bats live with this, it's like uncanny valley but hundreds times worse.

"If I tell you I use it for easier access, will you leave it be?" The fae tilts his head again, and this time it is not in confusion, but in the eerie manner of how all very much not human beings do it. Constantine swallows, but doesn't back down.

"Access to what, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Transportation," Danny provides. This does not explain shit and he knows it. Red Robin groans and rolls his eyes.

"We use it to summon Danny if we need him. It's faster than calling or texting."

Constantine freezes.

These fucking kids. Are using the fae debts. To summon him. Because they don't like texting.

Do they know that they can literally ask a fae to destroy a small country to fulfill a debt like that? It's not just a small favor, it's a gratitude. Fae take their gratitude very seriously. They value it. A lot.

Actually, you know what, no. John is not going to be explaining that part to them because God knows the batkids are all batshit crazy and this is an opportunity he is not willing to give them.

So he just nods stiffly, turns around, and heads to the zeta tube.

"Thank you for caring about my family," he hears a voice behind him, full of mischief and joy. Constantine feels the weight of the newly acquired debt, or better call it a favor, bind itself to his soul, and, great, he now has the power to part the sea like Moses, but only once.

He needs a drink. No, correction, he needs a whole bar to himself.

Wait, that's an idea.

"Get me a bottle of good bourbon, and we're even," he throws around his shoulder, stepping into a zeta tube.

When he steps out of it, there's an unlabeled bottle in his hand. John sighs and opens it, foregoing the glass or cup and drinking straight from the neck.

...It's good bourbon.

Inspired by @blackfoxsposts

| <-prev | next-> |

[ellecdc]

thank you, McLaggen

inspired by the TikTok audio of Phil Dunphy saying "if you ever say anything disrespectful about my wife again, I'll kill you. Sorry, I don't know why that sounded like a joke; I will actually kill you."

James Potter x fem!reader who was apparently 'too much' for McLaggen

CW: they're at a party, readers last relationship left her feeling small, but she loves James and is all good now

It took a bit of unlearning when you found yourself in a relationship with James Potter. 

He sensed your hangups immediately; as if you were a duffle bag containing paraphernalia and he was a well-trained drug dog.

He noticed the way you seemed to fold in on yourself when you were excited, the way you cut yourself off when you began rambling, and the way you seemed to make yourself smaller as if that was what was required for the people around you to feel comfortable.

“Why do you keep snuffing out your own light, lovie? I miss your spark.” He’d said to you one night.

In all honesty, you hadn’t been aware you were even doing such a thing.

But you certainly knew why. 

Though your mother always told you to never look back on life with regrets, you’d spent about a year in what you now consider to be a rather unfortunate relationship with Tiberius McLaggen. 

And though you hadn’t noticed he’d been doing it; by the time your relationship ended, you realised you were perhaps a mere shadow of the person you used to be.

He’d ended the relationship after suggesting you were ‘too much’.

The irony of it was you were the smallest you’d ever been at that point; the ‘least’ you that you could possibly be. How could you be ‘too much’ and diminished at the same time?

You spent a lot of time reflecting after that, but it seemed that when you and James started your relationship, those old habits and qualities made their way back into your subconscious and it took James pointing it out for you to even notice.

You were glad he had, though. He was lovely, and he was caring, and he loved you. He loved your energy, he loved your passion, he loved your excitement, and better yet, he loved sharing those qualities with you.

All of the traits that your ex had deemed unseemly or unflattering were the traits you loved most about James, and in turn what he most loved about you.

And why would you deny such a lovely person of anything they wanted?

You just couldn’t.

So the two of you had been dating for nearly five months already, and you felt more comfortable in yourself than you ever had before.

You thought perhaps that this was just the effect James had on people; you found it almost impossible for any of his friends to be anything but their best selves when they were in his presence. 

You loved him immensely for it. 

You were getting a first hand look at exactly that from your spot on the arm of the sofa as you watched Peter throw his head back in boisterous laughter not usually seen from the typically soft spoken marauder. James didn’t even spend any time being smug about eliciting such a laugh from the cushion below you before he was complimenting Remus on his jumper, knowing very well that Sirius was the one who picked it out for him - and also knowing Sirius would absolutely take full responsibility for the compliment - only to coo about how sweet they were together and leaving both boys blushing messes. 

You had almost forgotten you were sitting in the middle of a Gryffindor party when someone sidled up beside you.

“Lookin’ good, Y/N.” McLaggen commented as he looked you up and down.

You fought the urge to grimace as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Tiberius.” 

“Didn’t think I’d see you here; not really your scene, is it?” He commented with an air of casualty you knew was entirely for show. “I’m here with my new bird; she’s in Gryffindor.” He carried on without waiting for you to respond.

You hummed in acknowledgement as you looked around the room. “It doesn’t look like you’re here with anyone, McLaggen, seeing as you’re standing here talking to me.” 

“Come now, can’t old friends catch up?” He said salaciously. 

“We’re not friends, Tiberius.” You retorted forcefully.

He held his hands up in mock surrender as he chuckled at you. “Down girl, no need to get all jumpy now. You always were a bit of a handful, weren’t you?” 

You didn’t even have a chance to tell McLaggen where to shove it before James was standing up from his place hidden behind you as McLaggen’s face fell. 

“Ah, if it isn’t Tiberius McLaggen; kicked off the Ravenclaw quidditch team, failing Astronomy, received a mere acceptable in Herbology last term, and totally shit the bed with the most beautiful girl in Hogwarts. I’ve heard so much about you!” James recounted with faux cheer as he stuck his hand out to McLaggen, forcing the bloke to give him an awkward handshake as James stared at him hard.

James Potter was still flashing his (what should be award winning) smile, but it never met his eyes which were no longer their warm hazel. 

“Sounds like you’re the one I have to thank.” James carried on as he dropped McLaggen’s hand, wiped his own hand off on his trousers and threw his other arm protectively, possessively, affectionately over your shoulder. “Turns out if you hadn’t been such an absolute fucking tosser and fumbled the best thing to have ever happened to you, I wouldn’t have my sweet, gorgeous girl here. Congrats on losing the most lovely little thing to have ever looked your way; now sod off before I decide to do something that might just be worth making her frown over.”

You were unsuccessful in hiding your snort of amusement as you hid your face in James’ shoulder and listened to McLaggen scoff and stalk away. 

“Merlin’s tits, Prongsie! Did anyone else know James could be mean!?” Sirius cackled as the two of you turned back towards the group. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen James end a conversation without at least wishing someone a good day.” Peter carried on.

“Did you actually threaten the sod?” Marlene continued.

“No, I didn’t threaten him.” James muttered somewhat petulantly. “I promised him pain if he ever spoke to my girl like that again.”

The group cheered as you felt a shy yet pleased heat spread across your face and you shoved your face back into James’ shoulder.

James, for his part, accepted you eagerly and rubbed his hand up and down your arm as he pressed a kiss into your hair. 

“I’ll never let anyone make you feel small ever again.” He promised quietly; whether he was promising himself, or you, or McLaggen, you weren’t entirely sure.

What you were entirely sure of was that it was a promise he intended to keep.

[covid-safer-hotties]

To My Unmasked Friend in the Fifth Year of COVID - By: Anna Holmes - Published Aug 17, 2024

I’m going to be honest with you, because I love you, and you deserve nothing but honesty. I’m going to try really hard not to be angry while I do it, but it’s probably going to slip out every now and again. But I need you to hear me out, all right?

By now, we’ve talked about my reality. My personal struggle with long COVID, the isolation I live in, why I am so angry all the time.

But let’s talk about you. You just went to a big convention overseas. You got on a plane, got a little gussied up, talked shop with some insiders, geeked out over awards and merch, ate, drank, were merry, left with your social cup and your heart full.

You’re a good person. We wouldn’t be friends otherwise! You’d never dream of tripping a person with a red and white cane, using the r-word, excluding a disabled person from an event because of something they can’t help.

You might even acknowledge that the COVID response from governments and organizations has been ableist and inadequate.

But you didn’t wear a mask.

For whatever reason — you wanted to show off your makeup, it makes you itchy, you believed the messaging that COVID is endemic (what does that actually mean?), you just don’t think about it anymore — you made a choice that actively excludes people like me from participating not only in an event like a convention, but society at large. And yes, it is a choice. Every time you step out into the world without a mask on your face, you have made a decision that your very good reason, whatever it is, supersedes the right of disabled and at-risk people to exist safely in your orbit.

Well, hold on, you say. It’s not any one individual’s fault, it’s the inadequate public health messaging. Isn’t that what you’ve been saying?

And I have. In the past, I have talked about how it is unconscionable that health authorities have thrown their hands up and rescinded guidance that would have saved hundreds of thousands of lives and prolonged a pandemic that, to hear them tell it, has been bested. It hasn’t. Worst of all, the financial motivation that we all know is driving this premature victory lap isn’t even being fulfilled. Long COVID and other post-COVID complications are costing the global economy one trillion a year. Meanwhile, article after article handwrings about nobody wanting to work anymore, about the sagging college application scene, about declines in military enlistment, and the strain on our healthcare systems.

All of this is very much the fault of our leaders, who have decided the political ramifications of “normalcy” are more important than the health and lives of the 400 million people living with long COVID across the globe, the immunocompromised folks who are increasingly being shut out of every conceivable public space, and the disabled community which has been screaming into the wind about our marginalization since before the virus even hit US soil.

But I want to be very clear. You are helping them do this.

The reality is that we have been living in this deeply flawed landscape of “personal choice”, and you’ve made yours. You’ve opted not to look into how densely clustered cases are. You’ve stopped listening to your friends who have informed themselves. You’ve given yourself permission to put COVID on the back burner. You’ve earned it, right? Four and a half years of trauma?

COVID doesn’t care if you’re tired of being scared or careful or considerate. COVID is not something you can personally overcome by being smart or virtuous or brave. It is a virus which only seeks to infect and replicate, and it is getting very good at those things. While you’ve looked away, my community has been scrambling to avoid variants that skirt immunity and don’t show up on rapid tests until day five-seven. The constant battle has changed since you were last in it. It’s not sufficient anymore to get your shots and test before a big event. You could well be asymptomatic and infectious, or have symptoms and convinced yourself it can’t be COVID because that second line hasn’t popped up.

You have come to the conclusion sometime between 2022 and now that you just have to decide what level of risk you’re comfortable with and live with it. The problem with that is scale. It’s you and everybody else doing that, and a lot of people have decided they are comfortable with a high level of risk. Despite what you’ve been told, you’re not just making that decision for yourself. You are making it for every person you come in contact with.

Think back to the early tense days of 2020. We were told to select a “bubble.” Those people would be our social lifelines, and through those, we could control our exposure.

My bubble is quite small. It includes my husband, my sister, and two friends I see relatively frequently.

My husband goes to work via the bus, and to the grocery store. Every person he comes in contact with there has the potential to infect him, and then he has the potential to pass it along to me. He mitigates this by wearing a well-fitted respirator at all times.

My sister goes to work at a busy public place. She masks when public facing and takes it off in the back office. She goes to restaurants, bars, concerts, hangs out with friends and her own partner unmasked. About 75% of her interactions have the heightened potential to infect her, which she might then bring into my house when she visits me.

My friends do not mask anywhere except my house when asked. They attend concerts, shows, cons, bars.

Obviously, I am in control of whether I wear a mask around these people. And as we approach one million new cases a day, I will be around everyone but my husband. But science is clear: reciprocal masking is more effective at infection control than a single person masking — especially when that single person is trying to protect themselves, not others.

This is settled science. We’ve known this since 2020. It says clearly that the choice you make is not personal- it has implications for everyone you come in contact with.

And being clear — if I could, I’d make everyone wear a mask for their own health. I don’t want people suffering with what I have. But you’ve been told this lie that you can take your risks for yourself, so you feel comfortable going out without a mask. You’ve been told this lie that it’s possible to completely recover from a COVID infection, so you assume that even if you do catch it, that’s what’ll happen to you, despite evidence showing that every body is indelibly changed by an infection, and that risk only grows with each subsequent infection.

And the greatest lie of all — that only the sick or elderly have anything to fear from COVID — has given you unfounded confidence in your own “good” genes or immune system or fitness. You can get long COVID even if you’re in peak form — in fact, may even be more likely to be hit hard.

So you have decided, individually and collectively, that only the sick or elderly should have to take precautions, and you freewheel through life, only to get surprised and dismayed when you bump into COVID in the wild. It’s back, people declare every summer or winter, as though it ever left.

But I want you to really think about the implications of your choice. Besides yourself. Because let’s be honest here, that’s who you’ve been thinking about, right? Your risk. Your comfort. Never mind your bubble, never mind the bubble of everyone you come into contact with, never mind the people like me who are literally hiding from people like you.

You’re not masking at the doctor’s office. You’re not masking at the airport. You’re not masking at the giant superspreader you just attended, and you’re not masking in the bars and restaurants where we know the virus flourishes. And then you’re bringing that exposure back to your family and friends. Back to the grocery store, where you run across people like my husband, shopping for someone who is unsafe to leave the house, or your elderly neighbors, or an immunocompromised employee.

You’re a good person, or you like to think of yourself that way. That’s why when you’re asked to mask, you dismiss it out of hand — because that changed behavior implies that you’ve been doing something wrong.

And my friend, I’m telling this because I love you: you have been. You might have been doing that on faulty information, but be honest with yourself and with me — you’ve heard me begging people to take this seriously. You’ve seen the information I’ve been sharing. You have had the opportunity to seek out the correct information all along, and you have chosen not to.

It isn’t too late to change your view of the risk you’re imposing on the people around you. It’s not too late to push public health to become more effective. It’s not too late to act in solidarity and be the inclusive person you think you are. It’s not too late to take care of yourself.

Ultimately, that’s what I have been screaming myself hoarse about. I don’t want you to end up with what I have. I don’t want you to inadvertently impose that on someone else. And yes, I’ve been angry, because you’ve been advertising your absolute lack of concern with group shots of your naked faces on social media. It doesn’t seem to bother you that I am stuck at home like it’s 2020, except for doctors’ appointments that I literally have to risk my life to go to. You’ve told yourself that it’s not your problem, because only the sick and elderly have to take precautions.

You know better. You can do better. For your community, yourself, and me, do better.

Please. I love you.

Anna

PS. If you’re feeling upset and embarrassed right now, the best thing you can do is take action. Get yourself good masks (the surgicals and cloth ones don’t cut it anymore), donate to mask blocs so others can access good masks, write to your representatives and the President, comment on upcoming CDC guidance, schedule yourself a booster, and talk to your loved ones about doing better, too. The only way we get out of this is with community care. So care.

[florawrites-blog]

"You are always right" - enhypen

-you got a little bit of a attitude there

highkey ineed of a jay and sunghoon

Lee heeseung - 이희승

You stood there, arms crossed, your voice laced with irritation as you continued to throw shaded comments Heeseung’s way. It was like you couldn’t help it lately. Everything he said or did seemed to set you off, and today was no different. “Maybe if you actually listened for once instead of just—”

But before you could finish, Heeseung, who had been leaning against the counter with an exasperated expression, moved towards you slowly, almost deliberately. His eyes locked with yours, but instead of the argument you were bracing yourself for, he reached out and gently pulled you by the waist.

"Yes, yes, whatever you say, beautiful," he said, his tone dripping with exhaustion, but there was something more behind his words—something final, as if he’d had enough.

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, soft but insistent, stealing the rest of your sentence and whatever argument you thought you had. The intensity of the kiss made you stumble, choking on your own words as your frustration melted into confusion. The heat of the moment overwhelmed you, and all those biting remarks you had prepared fell apart in your mind like ash.

Heeseung deepened the kiss, his hands holding you firmly by the waist as if to keep you grounded, his lips silencing everything you had been ready to throw at him. When he finally pulled away, you stood there, breathless, your mind completely blank. His gaze met yours again, calm but edged with a silent warning.

“Are you done now?” he asked, his voice lower than before, making it clear he wasn’t interested in playing into your attitude any longer. You blinked, still struggling to gather your thoughts, realizing just how ridiculous your words had sounded to him moments ago.

Park jongseong - 박종성

The argument with your brother had been one of those pointless sibling spats where no one was really right or wrong. It started over something trivial, but as usual, it escalated into snarky comments and stubborn attitudes. You were standing your ground, even though deep down, you knew you were on the wrong side of things. Jay stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the whole scene unfold. He didn’t say much, but you could tell he wasn’t pleased.

Still, as the argument dragged on, Jay took your side. Every time your brother threw something at you, Jay would chime in with a subtle remark or a nod in your favor, backing you up completely. You felt a surge of confidence, knowing Jay was there with you.

But once the argument fizzled out and your brother left the room, you could feel Jay’s energy shift. As you started walking away, thinking the situation had been handled, Jay gently caught your arm, pulling you to the side.

“We need to talk,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with disappointment.

You turned to face him, already sensing where this was going. Jay’s eyes met yours, his expression serious. “You were wrong, you know that, right?” he said softly, but firmly. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of your brother, but the way you handled that… it wasn’t like you.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but the look in his eyes stopped you. He wasn’t angry, just… disappointed. You could feel the truth in his words settling in. Jay wasn’t the type to sugarcoat things, and he wasn’t afraid to call you out when you needed it.

“You’re better than that,” he added, his hand still resting gently on your arm. “I’m on your side, always, but you need to own up to it when you’re wrong.”

His words lingered in the air between you two, and as much as you hated to admit it, he was right. You sighed, looking away for a moment before nodding, feeling a mix of guilt and gratitude for his honesty. “I’ll make it right,” you said quietly, knowing that Jay had your back, even when you weren’t at your best.

Sim jaeyun - 심재윤

You had been in one of those moods again—the kind that hits out of nowhere for no real reason. It wasn’t because of your period, stress, or anything you could put your finger on. You were just… irritable. And Jake, being Jake, had been nothing but patient with you, though you could tell he was starting to lose that patience.

For the past few days, he’d been gently asking you to sit down and talk, to figure out what was really going on. But you’d refused, brushing him off with snarky comments or changing the subject. It was like you wanted to push his buttons without even meaning to.

“Sit,” Jake said calmly, patting the empty space on the couch next to him, clearly trying again.

“I’m not a dog for you to order me, Jake,” you shot back, your tone sharp and full of attitude. The irritation in your voice surprised even you, but you couldn’t help it.

Jake sighed, but instead of getting frustrated, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Ah, yes, of course not,” he started, his voice filled with exaggerated sweetness. “Love, baby, light of my life, my coffin—" he added, a bit dramatically, "please, would you do me the honor of sitting next to me? Please?"

You couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at your lips at his words. Despite yourself, you rolled your eyes and sighed, finally sitting down next to him. Jake knew how to break through your attitude like no one else, and as soon as you sat, he gently rested his hand on yours.

“Now, tell me,” he said softly, his tone much more serious, “what’s really going on? You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Something about the way he said it—so calm, so sincere—made the irritation that had been building up inside you start to fade. You hadn’t even realized how much you needed to just sit down and talk until that moment.

Park sunghoon - 박성훈

You stood at the kitchen sink, your mind replaying the argument that had just happened at the dinner table. It wasn’t even a big deal, but somehow, you’d turned it into one. The tension between you and Sunghoon had escalated, and before you could calm yourself down, you got up to avoid him. You didn’t want to deal with it, not in that moment, so you distanced yourself. The sound of water running didn’t do much to drown out the thoughts swirling in your head.

But then, you felt it—his presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know Sunghoon had gotten up, following you, his energy calm yet determined. He was close, and you could feel the warmth of him at your back.

“Y/n,” he called softly, but you didn’t want to face him. You felt the walls you’d put up rising even higher.

“Leave me alone,” you muttered, barely loud enough for him to hear. But he wasn’t going anywhere, not this time.

Instead of stepping back, Sunghoon moved closer. His hand gently reached out, fingers brushing against your chin as he tilted your head towards him, forcing you to meet his eyes. His touch was soft, yet firm, his presence grounding.

"Look at me and say it," he whispered, his voice low but steady. "Then I’ll know you really want me to leave. But for now, I need you to hear me. Got it?"

His words were like a lifeline, cutting through the stubbornness that had built up inside you. His fingers lingered on your chin, grazing your neck as his gaze softened, searching your eyes for something you hadn’t yet admitted to yourself. You could feel your defenses starting to waver under the intensity of his gaze, his whisper leaving no room for escape.

You couldn’t say it. Not when he was looking at you like that, not when his touch made you feel like he was the only one who could reach you in that moment.

[miley1442111]

treatment plan (part 2)- a.hotchner

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summary: aaron oversteps and it starts a fight.

pairing: aaron hotchner x insomnia! reader

warnings: angst, discussions of insomnia and feeling 'different' because of it, mental health, crying, happy ending, aaron is insecure, fighting, suggestive at the end

part of this au:

insomniac

treatment plan (part 1)

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

You walked into work the next day, exhausted and rather irritated. Aaron was a tyrant as he shouted and screamed about anything small anyone did wrong, even when Derek made a dumb joke on the plane. The case was tough, three girls gone missing with nothing to connect them, apart from their clothing. You had nothing to go off of, and on top of it, it was a dead of winter in fucking Maine. Freezing didn't even begin to cover it. 

“This is a shithole,” you sighed as you walked into your hotel room. You knew Aaron was behind you, you knew he was going to try to talk to you, and in all honesty, you didn’t give a shit. You had absolutely no time for him. He’d called you selfish. When you did everything he asked of you, and more. Pathetic. He was the selfish one. 

“We’re in a remote town, what were you expecting,” his calm, yet cutting voice drove the wedge further between you, and suddenly the room became much colder. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “A Four Season’s?”

He scoffed. “Maybe then you’d actually sleep.”

He noticed how your face fell, and he really noticed when you locked yourself in the bathroom, taking a very long time to shower. He sighed as he sat on the bed, his pyjamas on, but he wasn’t tired. He was just… upset? Annoyed? Guilty? He wasn’t sure. What he did know was that he was sorry. He wanted you to come back home, come back to him. He wanted to hold you as you slept soundly under him, when you weren’t plagued with your anxieties and stress of the day. Those peaceful moments where you wouldn’t look back at him, because when you did he felt himself open. He felt like a raw, open wound when you looked at him. He often felt stupid because of it. Were you as affected by him as he was you? Was your world constantly flipped on its head every time he walked into the room like his was when you did?  

No, because Aaron Hotchner, boring, logical, unemotive, shy, Aaron Hotchner was nowhere near your excellence or beauty. Nowhere near your humour and tantalising smile. Nowhere near you emotional expressions and unwilling intelligence. 

Aaron knew he had no chance with you from the get-go, and he had been shocked when you’d asked him out, after months of pining after you. As he watched you with Jack, with the team, he saw himself slowly falling into your orbit, and falling in love. 

And he fucked it up, all because he was worried, and far too logical for love to work. 

He turned off his light and turned over. He didn’t turn around and comfort you when he heard your soft sobs, and he only let himself cry when he was sure you were asleep. God, why couldn’t you two just talk?

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

You woke up before Aaron, a rare thing, so you took full advantage. You left the hotel before him, got to the precinct first, and kept going with the case, Spencer and Emily by your side. When Aaron came in thirty minutes later, you were already on your way out to interview the families with Jj, so he couldn’t talk to you. 

You two were called back after another body had been found later that day, the sky already dark as you two pulled up to the scene. Aaron was waiting. 

“I’ll take Agent Y/l/n, you can go back to the precinct Jj, thanks.”

And there was no room for arguing.  

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

You and Aaron walked onto another crime scene, the dark sky and minimal light making the small path difficult to see. You didn’t even want to be around Aaron, let alone around him in a professional setting. Everyone on the team knew what was going on because Penelope cannot keep things to herself. You stepped, squinting to see the tiny dirt path through the trees and bam, you were sliding down a mud hill. 

“Fuck!” you shouted, finally stopping at the bottom. You were covered in mud, you were exhausted, and you were upset. Not a good mix. You felt the tears of frustration well up in your eyes, but swallowed them down when Aaron came to your rescue.

“Are you hurt?” he asked frantically, checking your body for cuts and bruises. “Y/n!”

“I’m fine Aaron, I just slipped,” you sigh, getting up with his help. “I’ll head back to the hotel and shower, I’ll see you in the morning-”

“Let me come with you, please,” he pleaded. You reluctantly agreed and off you two went, back to the hotel. 

You stood in the lobby, muddy and cold as Aaron got the room keys. 

He stared at you as you waited for the elevator.

“Let’s go Aaron,” you sighed. You walked in silence to your room, and when you went into the bathroom, locking the door behind you, Aaron sat on the bed and sighed. What the fuck was he going to do? 

He’d fucked up before, but not like this. He knew he was pushing you when he said what he said, but he was just so scared, so worried, so… uncontrolled. He didn’t know what to do, a new feeling for him. 

“Y/n,” he called from the other side of the bathroom. “I’m sorry.” 

He heard you mumble something. “Can I come in?” He asked. Suddenly the door was unlocked and he was let in. 

“What do you want?” You asked, washing your hair in the bath. Aaron gulped, god you were gorgeous. 

“I’m sorry about the fight,” he admitted, trying to keep his thoughts off your body. “I know I should’ve respected your decision, but I’m really fucking scared. I’m really, really scared. I’ve never had to think about this, and with all the awful facts Reid keeps telling me-”

“You need to stop listening to him,” you chuckled. “And I understand. It can be a lot, even for me.”

While you were annoyed at him, you understood where he was coming from. This was scary. The statistics were scary. The diagnosis was scary. He was just trying to look out for you, like he always does, and maybe a part of what he was saying was right. Maybe you should keep trying, it just gets hard when you are constantly told that you’re untreatable. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Can we start talking to each other again?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, and I’m sorry I ran away.” 

“I deserved it,” he chuckled. “So…?”

“So… I will go back to looking for treatment,” you said and his face lit up. “But if it gets too much for me I will stop again. And I’m not selfish for doing that.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry I ever said that, you’re the most selfless person I've ever met.”

“And also,” you added. “I love you, but you cannot keep taking your frustrations out on me and expect me to be alright. That’s not fair.”

“I promise,” he nodded. 

“Then, I think we’re back to normal,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his hand. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” he smirked, allowing his mind to focus on other things…

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

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[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 425: New Normal

Previously on BnHA: Everyone was all “and with that we conclude our final battle for better or worse!! We will now commence our slow return to the new normal, beginning with our protagonist and deuteragonist who are miraculously more or less intact, albeit exhausted and mildly traumatized. Also the words ‘more or less’ are kind of doing a lot of heavy lifting there.”

Today on BnHA: The Big 3 and Aoyama are OUT. Shinsou is IN. The Tododrama is PENDING, and the mysterious figure in the shadows is UNIDENTIFIED. Also class 1-A finally becomes class 2-A and it only took them 425 chapters and TEN LONG YEARS. Can you imagine if this series had actually run throughout their high school experience like people once expected. “THE YEAR IS 2044 AND MY HERO ACADEMIA IS FINALLY WINDING TO A CLOSE.” There’s an alternate universe somewhere where this actually happened and we were all so very, very tired.

This is once again a shorter than usual reaction summary post, as opposed to my typical page-by-page liveblog. Not gonna have time to do those for a while yet most likely, but like hell am I gonna miss out on the last days of the series, so here we are.

Once again basing this off of @pikahlua’s spoiler translation summary here!

watching the eighteen inch tall Rat Principal standing at a podium overseeing this graduation ceremony is surreal in the most wonderful way. it’s like receiving your diploma from a sentient Funko Pop

I love how they established that Mic sitting there screaming at the top of his lungs is also a beloved U.A. graduation tradition, and that the senpais just roll with it while everyone else is in varying stages of trying to decide if it’s too late to transfer to another school

ngl sometimes I forget that Ochako and Toga were actually the second canonical f/f ship in this series. shoutout to Hadou and her adorable girlfriend whose name I absolutely cannot recall

absolutely wild that Horikoshi gives credit to Rat Principal for coordinating the entire disaster recovery nationwide. are you serious. the “world-famous” Principal Nezu?? you’re telling me this little capybara is effectively the secret president of Japan now or something. when does he even sleep

“the principal made great contributions to quirk morality education” is also a VERY interesting tidbit that I really want to know more about. “hey guys what if we did a better job at teaching people not to be dicks with their quirks” AND JUST LIKE THAT JAPAN WAS SAVED huzzah

“we lost many things, but we gained nothing” is both HILARIOUS and soundly depressing, but I can see what he’s trying to get at. still an odd choice for a graduation speech though. “our job is all about harm reduction, and we couldn’t even do that this time around, but in the future we hope to balance things out and maybe even get some net positive impact going!” lmao. again it’s all true, and in all honesty it’s spectacular that they managed as well as they did, all things considered. and I guess it would have been disingenuous to just ignore the reality of everything this particular school body has been through and pretend like everything is great right now. but I still can’t help feeling like there was probably a more inspiring way to get this message across lol

regardless of what he says, Aizawa 100% either bribed or threatened Rat Principal behind the scenes in order to stay with his class. and will do so again next year. he can and will keep getting away with it. he is never leaving these kids

and the sheer relief from all of them upon hearing it is all the justification he needs. these kids have four thousand nine hundred and seventeen accumulated traumas among them. they don’t need a four thousand nine hundred and eighteenth. this man is their father ffs. MINA WAS CRYING AND EVERYTHING

Kacchan watched that YouTube video about a dozen times until he managed to tie his tie all on his own with the one hand. and he did an amazing job. he’s such a model citizen now

also it looks to me like he has his right arm hidden in a sling underneath his shirt, which is interesting. if I’m not mistaken (and I very well could be, since it’s been a hot minute since I did any BnHA timeline math), the final battle took place sometime in early May, so this chapter is taking place roughly one month later. the hospital chapter took place about a week after the battle, so it’s been about 3-4 weeks since then. I really want to know what kind of shape Kacchan’s arm is in, but I guess Horikoshi will get to it when he gets to it

also, “we all gotta be together today” was a real wakeup call to me in that it gave me just an absolutely ridiculous amount of feels. just a totally unreasonable amount. and it’s like. listen, self. Kacchan has completed his character growth arc. he’s a team player and a leader who loves all his friends and they all love him in return. we’ve known this for years now. it’s an established fact. you can’t keep bursting into tears or whatever every time he shows it. this is no way to live your life. I need an intervention

anyways later this evening class 2-A is gonna have a celebratory movie night in the common room, and Kacchan is gonna fall asleep two minutes in peacefully surrounded by all his classmates, and they’re all gonna nudge each other and smile fondly and cover him with a blanket and stay up until 2am and Aizawa will have no mercy on them the following morning. it’s gonna be so wholesome you guys

(ETA: I decided to go back and have some more feels about this one tiny Kacchan panel, because apparently the four paragraphs I already wrote about it weren't enough. so the thing is, Sero's wonderment at Katsuki being out of the hospital initially read to me as half bemused awe, and half "oh boy, time to get back into our usual rhythm of antagonizing Kacchan!" but my second time around, I can't help remembering that all of Kacchan's classmates got to watch this kid getting tortured and strangled and stabbed through the heart in 4K. like, even if they were busy with their own fights at the time, there's no way they didn't see the footage later on afterwards.

and that had to have been traumatic for them. their friend literally died and was just lying there so still for so long afterwards. and him getting better and going back to his usual asskicking self later on doesn't just erase those memories, you know? especially with him having lasting, permanent damage afterward. not just his arm, even! like who even knows if his heart is going to be okay long term. when people get organ transplants they have to go on immunosuppressants afterwards because otherwise their body will try to attack the replacement organ. so I wonder how exactly it works when it's still your heart, but it's being held together by various bits and pieces of a spindly little floss man. idk, but I bet you it's still pretty rough.

anyway so long story short, I'm now reading this as one-third bemused awe, one-third joking antagonism, and one-third genuine "no seriously, is it okay for you to be here, please don't do anything to put your health at risk because we seriously cannot handle you dying on us again." and Kacchan's not even disagreeing with him lol, which has to be the most concerning thing of all. "they said it's okay if I rest." even he knows he's pushing it, but it was too important of an occasion to miss. anyway please take it easy kiddo.)

Aoyama leaving makes me sad but it makes total sense for his character after what he’s been through. he needs time to sort things out and continue down his own personal honor-regaining journey. respect

also glad to hear that it was his own choice and that both Rat Principal and Nao would have supported him if he stayed. I still to this day do not understand Naomasa’s actual level of authority lol. like, he’s supposedly a detective, and yet he seems to be personally in charge of every single important police operation, on like a national level. and he has the authority to make decisions like letting Aoyama go free. he is the law, literally

Aoyama trying to feed Deku some farewell cheese also took me out. like he just walked in there and was all “sorry everyone, I’m leaving, but I’ll still aim for the path of a hero and will one day return, don’t you worry!” and at some point in the midst of this tearful speech he made a beeline directly to Izuku and tried to give him some cheese that he apparently just had in his pocket or something. and Izuku was all “YEAH!” all solemnly but HE DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH THAT POCKET CHEESE. like he loves you and accepts you for who you are Yuuga but COME ON

at this point in the chapter it also became clear to me that Aizawa has his hair up in some sort of loosely assembled messy bun and that’s why it looks so especially flowing and gorgeous today. this is great cinema

and then AT LONG LAST, the admission of Shinsou into class 2-A. they tried everything they could to keep him out, BUT NOT EVEN THE END OF THE WORLD COULD STOP HIM. his rightful place

Ojiro’s scandalized response to hearing Fuwa refer to Aizawa as “Era-sen”, and then Fuwa subsequently revealing all of Aizawa’s secrets and Aizawa getting flustered and kicking her out, was one of the most delightful sequences I’ve read. “nooooo don’t tell them that, what the hell am I gonna threaten them with now”

Izuku has not even attempted to crack a smile since the final battle, aside from when he was frantically trying to reassure Kacchan in the hospital. I’m worried about him but also loving this a little bit, ngl. I am content to wait for you to eventually have a proper breakdown, mister Greatest Hero

also I singled him out on the whole not-smiling thing, but really this is true for just about all of them. my heart aches :(

were there really so many people freaking out over Izuku’s hair that Horikoshi felt compelled to throw in that “HEY DEKU-KUN, YOU SHAVED YOUR HAIR LIKE THAT DUE TO AN INJURY, RIGHT? BUT IT’LL GROW BACK, RIGHT!?” line in there lol. the hilarious thing is that this chapter was already in the books before 424 was released, so it means that Horikoshi anticipated the backlash ahead of time. the man knows his audience

and now for this mysterious little barefoot man randomly emerging from some rubble somewhere. who are you. fandom already thinks you’re everyone from Tenko to Hisashi lol. my personal theory is that he’s just a random citizen who’s hurt and traumatized and needs help. and unlike what happened with baby Tenko once upon a time, this young man actually will be helped by a hero in his moment of need, and it’ll be all hopeful and stuff because SOCIETY IS CHANGING FOR THE BETTER NOW HOORAY

or maybe he really is Tenko, idk. what do I know lol. don’t listen to me

lastly, Shouto out here immediately leaving U.A. after class and ruining my dreams of a class 2-A movie night. FINE THEN. GO AND BE WITH YOUR FAMILY my precious little life preserver. and I’m actually really, really excited to see what their endgame is actually, so yes, Horikoshi, bring it on please and thank you

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Fun Carmy

Fun Carmy is relaxed Carmy, the other one is Logan, his social alter ego.

I was wondering if Carmy ever had a day of fun in whole life because IMO he has always been that anxious lil kid around others, that we saw in Fishes (02X06), I’m sure. He’s better at the tête-à-tête like the one he briefly had with Michelle that evening

OR as part of small close-knit groups, like that scene in the kitchen (Ceres 01x06).

These assumptions, I think, are also completely backed up by his S1 -Emmy Winning- monologue (Braciole 01x08).

And what I ended up realizing is that FUN CARMEN is not the one we might think we haven’t really seen yet, and that fun for him does NOT look like it may look for us or for a more extrovert type of person.

I happen to be listening to Nina as I type this, and she once said:

I think that quote fits Carmy and his "sense of fun" perfectly.

Fun Carmy is relaxed Carmy, and at peace Carmy.

This is fun Carmy

Fun for Carmy doesn't look like this

Fun Carmy is relaxed Carmy

Logan is not "fun", he is actually a source of anxiety for Carmy, and that's why he can't keep him "on" for long. He wasn't lying when he said he wasn't remotely OK at the party (Pop 02x05) because at that point he hadn't turned Logan on yet.

Logan is "The other one", the one most people would label as "fun", because it better fits the social CONSTRUCT of what fun looks like, but Logan Fernello Berzatto is actually his functional alter-ego.

His functional or social alter - ego explained from a behaviorist perspective

We all have functional alter egos, this is related to the PERSONAL constructs concept developed by Psychologist George Kelly. These are formed at a fairly early age, even well within our 20s we are still forming our personalities and constructs or ideas of how the world works and what everything means, and thus how we should interact with and/or react to this world we live in, in other words, how to adapt or not to our environment. Then comes our career that can prolong this formative period even more, for instance, celebs of any age are required to have an alter ego for those occasions on which they have to "turn it on" for the camera or the stage → "the stage persona" that is NEVER the same person as the real one behind the wheel of the "functional alter-ego" and this persona has been formed based on their ideal of what has worked best for them in the past, what their PR team or Managers require of them to get them jobs, etc. They may come across as genuine and relatable but celebs are usually always "on" when we see them even off camera, so they are not, not completely. We all have the "office construct", the "school construct", the "mom chat group construct", etc. That is actually a sign of being well-adjusted to fit in society, and that is why we do not act the exact same way in all those different situations even though we are the same person, because we are not the same "persona" and that's OK. It's not a sign of phoniness, or lack of honesty, although it can definitely turn into that and become dysfunctional when there's an underlying mental health disorder, although it doesn't always turn out like that, thank dog!

In Carmy's case in particular, he can handle Logan and turn him on / off at will, which means he's in that aspect still well-adjusted despite his multiple mental health conditions, probably because none of them is a personality disorder, so it's safe to assume that he somewhat knows what's he's doing, he's choosing it to a certain extent and it's not 100% unconscious, only partially.

His lines are becoming blurry because he let Syd in, whether he admits it or not. And deep down, he knows this but he's not fully willing to go there (yet). That's what S4 is for.

This aligns with the rest of his behavior I already went over in previous posts:

Fun Carmy is the one that California, Copenhagen, and Chicago post-Sydney Adamu brought out in him. He's what most people, not me, would call relaxed, chilled, etc.

Relaxed Carmy, at peace Carmy, coloring Carmy, talking about food and cracking lil jokes under a table Carmy, is FUN CARMY.

We know him already. We've seen him. He just turns him off when he's The Bear or Logan.

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[thefirstlioveyou]

"The Last Lie," as the final variation of "The First Lie," why it would be the perfect title

+ the importance of the the songs

(before anything: yes. i know. "it's literally just a song title." but obviously the song is important to the duffers if they wanted multiple versions to put in each season. this song is insight to what's not always being verbalized. the series of this song contains themes of queerness, romantic love, self-discovery, honesty and acceptance. all of it is meaningful and that includes the title pattern that's going on.)

ok so this is gonna be very much a rambling post.

but i was thinking of all the variations of "the first lie," and how the final one is most definitely gonna be for byler, or related to it in some way.

so far we've got... The First Lie (jancy) // The First I love You (mlvn s3 kiss, robin's coming out) // Being Different (Will's Monologue, 3:20-4:29)// Jopper scene S4

(yes. jopper has their own variation! you can tell by the lack of bass, extra added synths and different build up that it's a different version... i'm just not sure why it wasn't included in the soundtrack.)

i got bored and began thinking what the title would be if it were to be for byler.

i've noticed many people suggest to capitalize the 'L' in 'love' to prove that mike's love for will is something real, where as it wasn't for el.

i guess they could do that.

but... that requires them to say that phrase. and i really don't think mike and will are gonna say that to begin with, nor would i want that.

in the stranger things universe, "i love you" has only been a phrase used platonically or by failed relationships. the show really loves to depict love by actions or with other words. they enforce the theme "actions speak louder than words" with their relationships.

in real life, it's important to hear those words 'i love you.' however this is a fictional story that's crafted with precise choices to send an underlying message to the audience. so going by that this means that in this fictional world, el shouldn't need to hear mike say it. no other couple in the show had this issue other than stancy, and well.. you know how that ended up. bullshit.

mike and el had this issue because they don't love each other that way. the desire to hear it comes from none other than their codependency. they rely on each other to have some form of identity or purpose, slowly destructing who they really are in the process.

so while i understand why some may want mike to say 'i love you,' the point is he shouldn't have to say it. his actions should be enough to prove it, if we're following along the themes this narrative is trying to display.

his actions fall flat, and will continue to. although his actions ARE signs he CARES about her, their relationship has no chemistry and especially compatibility. there is no actual romantic love. just unhealthy attachment.

will feels better about himself, he feels loved as a whole, not just as mike's potential partner. mike makes him feel better for being different... but when has mike ever said anything specifically like that? he's never sat down and said, "hey, it's okay to be different." it's mike's actions that make him feel that way. mike's love for will is already being said without actually saying it, just like the other endgame ships. it's following the active theme.

and yeah it can get confusing.. because we're in the pov of will, who thinks it's unrequited... we lost mike's pov... mike's with el.. but the show is deliberately trying to make the audience (at least the heteronormative-blinded part) MISS it, so it can be a whole twist and all that and continue to enforce the theme they're going for.

and let's say the word 'love' is used, i think it'd be used in the context of a letter (ex: love, mike). i just really don't think they will make them say "i love you" if no other endgame couple has before. it disrupts the theme.

now, if not "The First I Love you," then what would be a good title?

personally, i like the idea of "The Last Lie."

why?

because mike needs to stop fucking lying to himself and denying his homosexual desire for his childhood best friend and stop pretending like that dragon poster isn't gay as fuck

no but, THINK ABOUT IT. (this is about to get severely cheesy and probably cringe inducing and i'm sorry)

imagine it. thee byler kiss scene, or whatever it ends up being (but it has to be related to them in some way). this is the moment in which mike finally confronts his truth and accepts it. he isn't bullshitting who he is anymore - being gay, his interests, his true personality.

the 'normal' boy who he tried so hard being... the 'normal' boy he risked his friendships and the love of his life just to be... the 'normal' boy that doesn't enjoy nerdy games... the 'normal' boy who he masked behind just to live a lie.

whether it's by words or a kiss, he's finally letting that lie of a boy go the moment he shares his love for will. and in those seconds of time, it's almost like a promise to himself that 'normal' boy would be the last lie he'll ever try to live again

i fucking love characters who break their own moral code. that's mike - the character that enforced telling the truth and being honest to those you care about, and still ended up being a liar all along.

and it's not even that mike's relearning "friends don't lie." no. he already gets that. we already get that. you're free to disagree here, but what i personally get from mike's overall character is that there will always be an inability to be truthful to others if you can't be truthful to yourself first. mike must live his live authentically and stay true to who he is and what defines him if he wants happiness. otherwise, the lie he digs himself into will only get bigger and bigger, and inevitably will destroy what's important to him (his relationships in this case) and himself.

all this... it already fits the themes the other song variations have been displayed in:

acceptance of a love and finally letting it in -> jancy/jopper

coming out and speaking your truth -> robin

queerness -> robin, mike, will

self-discovery -> mike

just imagine all of those themes just smashed into one title and scene. that track would carry so much meaningful weight.

Ok

maybe this post was just my secret love letter to those songs. but am i really crazy for caring about them? soundtracks in film/tv deserve more love! that little melody is clearly so important to the story, the way the titles it transitions through and what it tells us. i just think it's genuinely brilliant how they managed to do that with one instrumental. that's storytelling!!

ok i'm done now thank you kyle dixon & michael stein. ur my fave bylers

[crazystargirl]

it's over y/n! i have the high ground! ♥︎

pairing - jack champion x fem!reader

(NOT PROOFREAD)

a/n - this is literally as old as my writing acc- (p.s. this may be one of the last jack/ethan fics i ever post since ong coriolanus snow HAS A CHOKEHOLD ON ME)

"Y/n, my allegiance is to the Republic, to Democracy!"

How did you get here again?

Oh yeah, Jack had dragged you to Disney World a few days early and it was all fun until he dragged you into the gift shop and spent a whole hour there.

You were utterly convinced that your boyfriend was secretly a 10 year old. Like who goes to Disney World and buys 300 dollars worth of lightsabers? Only Jack but you had to admit some of them were actually really cool.

And the minute you guys got home, Jack insisted on recreating a scene from one of the movies. You initially said no since you were exhausted from the day's events but Jack gave you his puppy eyes, knowing you couldn't say no to those. You gave in and he decided he wanted to recreate Anakin and Obi-Wan's iconic fight from Revenge of the Sith.

As much as you wanted to be Obi-Wan for obvious reasons, Jack once again convinced you to let him be Obi-Wan. God you loved him but sometimes it wasn't fair how easily he was able to convince you.

So here you were now and after rereading the script for that scene, you finally got down the lines. 

"If you're not with me, you're my enemy" you manage to say with a straight face despite wanting to laugh because of Jack's overly dramatic shocked face. 

"Only a sith lord deals in absolutes, i will do what i must"

"You will try…"

You both ignite your lightsabers and Jack immediately advances over to you, clashing his lightsaber with yours. Since he is taller and stronger you stumbled back a few times, but were able to get back on your feet and return his hits with the same energy.

After fighting for what felt like hours, you guys had made a huge mess of all the pillows in the hotel room but you could care less. 

Eventually you're standing on the couch and Jack is standing on the bed, which in all honesty makes him more intimidating than before since he's so tall. His head is also about to hit the ceiling but you're not about to mention that to him. 

"I have failed you y/n. I was never able to teach you how to think"

You suppress a smile as you say your next line.

"I should've known the jedi were plotting to take over…"

"From the sith point of view, y/n my love, chancellor palpatine is evil"

You giggle so much at his words that you almost fall off the couch

"From the jedi point of view! Jack, from my point of view the jedi are evil"

"Well than you are lost!"

"This is the end for you my love! I wish it were otherwise"

You jump on the bed and start fighting with Jack until you end up on the couch again.

"It’s over y/n, I have the high ground!"

"You underestimate my power jack!"

"Don't try it baby"

You start to jump on the bed and Jack hits you in the knee with the light saber. You let out a scream and Jack freezes, actually thinking he hurt you. You use this to your advantage and get on the bed, forgetting about what actually happened in the movie. 

After fighting for 5 minutes, Jack gets you on the ground and pins you there with his body weight

"Jack get off of me! You're so fucking heavy!" 

"Noooo you have to surrender first!"

He starts peppering kisses on your face as you struggle from under him.

"Ok Jack, i actually surrender, i'm gonna actually suffocate from under you."

He got up and wrapped himself around you. You wrapped yourself around him too and you guys just stayed like that for a while. Eventually you started squirming to let him know you guys needed to get up. He got the hint and untangled himself from you.

"Well that was fun but we're leaving tomorrow and we need to clean up the mess we made…"

Jack gets up and looks around. He stands there for a bit and thinks.

"Why don't we just go get some food first?"

"Jack…we have to clean up and then we can get food."

He turns back to you and throws you over his shoulder. He starts walking to the door of the hotel room.

"I think we can go get food and then we can clean up…or play again" He says with a smirk.

You sigh and stop trying to escape from his grasp. Your boyfriend is truly something else

@xyzstar, @gwenlore, @dizscreams, @urmomcomsiimiamour, @nonniesworld, @chemtr4ilz, @phsychobanana

© crazystargirl 2023 || do NOT copy or repost my work without my permission

[theredofoctober]

MANNA- CHAPTER TEN: RABBIT

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, Daddy kink, implied child abuse, self harm, fatphobia, body dysmorphia

This is chronologically the tenth chapter in the series.

Read beneath the cut...

Napalm is the slow fire of waking from a terrible dream, blind, gasping, burnt. The pain, though delusive, is made actual by the action of nerves.

Only a hand at your shoulder, vigorous in its attentions, hauls you up from the putrescence of slumber into the light-dark of four in the morning. You find Hannibal's shape through lashes gummed with sleep's adhesive.

His face is as impassive as a star, but his hair, ever coiffed, is displaced from the friction of his pillow.

“You were screaming,” he says, as you sit, stunned, in his arms. “What were you dreaming about? Do you remember?”

“No,” you say, although the scenes remain briefly in your vision, doubling like silk screen prints upon the walls.

Hannibal fills up a glass with fresh water and bids you to drink, his eyes pensive, unconvinced.

Only the notion that he may suggest you share his bed or else intrude upon yours impels you to honesty.

“I dreamt that I was trapped in one of the Silicone Lover’s dolls. That he was trying to squeeze me inside, and I wouldn’t fit. He said, ‘You’ve gotten so big since I last saw you. I’d better do something about that.’

“Then he started cutting me up with kitchen scissors, and I couldn’t stop him.”

You pause, choking on a breath, a verbal stagger.

Dr Lecter offers you the water again, which you take in both hands and drain to its end.

“Take your time,” says Hannibal. “When you’re ready, go on.”

Lying will fail you before the all-seeing eye, so it is with a flat honesty that you say, “It wasn’t what the Lover did in my dream that scared me. It was what he said to me. Because he was right.”

You reach down to pull the quilt up across your stomach, which Hannibal, with a subtle gesture, prevents.

“To agree with such a statement there must be some basis of comparison for you,” he says. “You knew the person standing in as the Lover in your dream. Can you name him?”

Hannibal could guess it, from the little you’ve told him of your unclean past, but if memory conjures the name from the gully of silence he does not say so.

Instead, he comments, “I think it’s unwise for you to sleep again until your mind is settled. Perhaps we may take advantage of the hour to continue your therapy, in an informal fashion.”

He sits in a chair by your bed, producing a notepad and pen from a pocket of his dressing gown.

You see that he will not move.

"What if I don’t talk?” you ask, softly. “What if I say I'd rather take the punishment?"

Hannibal's slender lips upturn.

"I wouldn't be inclined to take such a claim seriously.”

In sullen defeat you flounce back against the pillows.

Dr Lecter takes his cue.

“I’m curious about the friendships you’ve formed throughout your life. Have there been any notable examples?”

“Not many,” you answer, looking at the raw edges of your fingernails. “I was kind of the weird kid. It was like looking through a dusty museum window at everybody passing by, not really knowing how to get out there and talk to people. Like I was too old and too young at the same time.

“I got bullied, kind of. Nothing worth talking about. Just dumb kid stuff.”

“Even persecution of a childish nature bears painful resonance in later life,” Hannibal comments. “Moreover, isolation from one's peers may disrupt development in those vital years.”

You think of dolorous hours patrolling a fallow playground alone, three hundred children staring through you with adult hostility.

“I did make one friend,” you say. “First year of high school. Amy Glass. She was a weird kid, too.”

Hannibal scratches deftly on his notepad.

"Describe how you met."

Closing your eyes, you find your way back through the forests of the past to a corridor whose tiled floor squeaks under your shoes. You smell textbook paper and saccharine body spray. The sweat of young bodies, and the stale cafeteria fare you’d never tasted throughout your time there.

“Between classes Amy would sit in a window listening to music, or reading,” you say. “Stephen King, usually. Sometimes Anne Rice. She seemed to be up there all the time. I don’t think she was getting shit from the other kids or anything; she just preferred hanging out on her own.

“I wished I was like that, not caring. I wished I was her, period.”

“In what way?” asks Dr Lecter, and in the hallway of your mind a slender figure appears, brown of skin and eyes, blue hair cut roughly to the chin, its roots seeping in atop it like a stain.

Amy.

“A lot of ways,” you say. “Before I really knew her, it was about how she looked. She had piercings— ears, lip, nose, eyebrow. Teachers would tell her to take them out, then the second she was out of their eye-line she’d put them right back in. And even back then she had these awful stick and poke tattoos of bats and crosses she covered up with band aids for classes.

“She did all of them herself with a safety pin. God knows how she didn’t get an infection or anything.

“Then there was the fact I knew we liked some of the same music because of the patches on her bag, and her t-shirts and stuff. Nothing you’d approve of,” you add, as interest touches the face of your listener. “Jesus, I can’t even imagine playing stuff like that in this house. Anyway, I didn’t want to just be like, ‘hey, you like that band, too’. It would have been too weird. Stalkery, maybe?”

“Music isn’t such a terrible way to form a connection,” says Hannibal, amused. “I was once approached in friendship through a shared taste in cheese.”

Picturing his restrained derision you cannot help but laugh.

“Oh, god,” you say. “What were they thinking?”

“It was a naive assumption of commonalities. Besides, my commitment to professionalism would never have allowed us to be as close as he would have hoped.”

You give a little start of affront.

“You’ve made friends with other clients.”

Dr Lecter’s smile remains.

“Only with those whom I feel my presence benefits.”

“Benefits you, you mean,” you say, pettishly. “Whoever it was, you just didn’t like him that much. That’s why you turned him down. Or maybe he was too like you.”

Without appearing offended, Hannibal turns a page in his notebook.

“I'm unconcerned with debating my personal relationships, little one. Let’s return to Amy. Who initiated the friendship between you?”

“Amy,” you say. “It was after this councillor was trying to get something out of me, and I didn’t want to talk. I walked out that room feeling so... heavy, and grimy, and embarrassed. Then there was Amy, heading to the same office I just walked out of. She looked at me, scrunched her face up, and said, ‘Wish me luck.’ Next time I saw her I made the same face back and asked, ‘how was it?’

“‘The worst, just like always,’ she said. ‘Where’d she get her certificate, anyway? Clown school?’

“I burst out laughing. ‘She’s so bad, right?’

“And that was it. Friends. We went everywhere together. Amy really liked me. I don’t know why. I think maybe she thought I was sort of mysterious and interesting rather than just depressed, probably because I didn’t want to talk about what was going on with me.

“She told me everything about her. How her dad didn’t believe in mental health issues even though he was just like she was, and how her mom just ignored everything, hoping it’d just... go away. But I didn’t tell Amy even one little thing about me, really. Not one.”

Guilt you’ve never truly confronted falls like a petal from a late summer bloom, cloying the dark with its flavour.

“Did Amy ever indicate that she’d recognised your particular illness?” prompts Hannibal, and you shrug glumly.

“A couple of times. I ignored every hint. Changed the subject. Acted like it wasn’t a thing when it obviously was. I knew that she knew. That was the dynamic. She was softer, around me. She got it. She got me.”

Suddenly your breath feels very high in your chest, catching on a rib.

“I can’t help but notice your use of the past tense,” says Dr Lecter. “Might I assume that you are no longer friends?”

“We grew apart after school,” you mutter. “I think she would have liked it if I stayed in touch, but then sometimes I wonder if that’s just wishful thinking, and maybe she didn’t care all that much when we drifted apart and stopping talking.

“I have her on Facebook. That’s all, really. She was never a social media person anyway, but still. I could have tried harder. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

Hannibal allows the silence between you to ferment before he speaks again.

“Looking back, what do you think prevented you from maintaining contact?”

“I felt like after school was over she’d find other friends, and I’d just end up being left behind. So I got out of there before I had to see it happen.”

"You abandoned a friendship on the basis of a prophecy that might never have come to fruition."

"It would have,” you insist. “All my life I've had senses about things. Like, if I get a feeling something will or won't happen, I'm always right. Like I was right about you."

Swanlike, Dr Lecter’s hands move across his notebook, tactfully punctuating a note.

"It's common for sufferers of complex post-traumatic stress disorder to misinterpret their hypervigilance as psychic premonition. A heightened awareness of your surroundings and the behaviours of people in your vicinity develops in order to predict danger before it occurs. Pattern recognition is more mathematical than clairvoyant."

"What about my dreams?" you ask, sharply. “Are they math, too?”

"You've had other nightmares?” asks Hannibal, and leans forward, poised to digest you answer.

Canny, you hoard the matter like a serpent its glittering lair.

Hannibal accepts his defeat with grace.

Gathering up his notebook and the empty glass, he says, "That's enough therapy for now, particularly so early in the morning. I'll make you some tea, and you may return to sleep. Peacefully, this time, I hope."

*

Later, there is a meal that sits, sinking in a bath of bronze on Dr Lecter’s dining table, so much of it that you’re gorged merely from the arithmetic of its makeup.

“Arroz de Cabidela,” says Hannibal, as he pulls out his own chair. “A Portuguese dish made with rice, chicken, or rabbit cooked in its own blood. Today I’ve chosen rabbit. Have you ever eaten it before?”

It occurs to you that he expects you to be disturbed by the notion, but you are not. Meat is meat, all of it equally cruel. That life must end for the furthering of your existence has driven you to veganism many a time.

Little chance of sustaining such a diet now that you sleep in the devil’s slaughterhouse.

“No,” you say. “I’ve never tried rabbit. I heard it’s really... gamey.”

Your palate is scarcely educated enough to comprehend the statement. Still, it is apparently accurate, for Hannibal makes a low hum of agreement.

“It has similarities to poultry, in flavour, though it’s rather lean and dry. The blood stew adds a richness you’ll find complimentary, however.”

The scent is certainly inviting, but you are so committed to rejecting whatever is served to you that you feel lightheaded, succumbing to the altitude of starving heights.

“Couldn’t you have given me a smaller portion?” you ask, piteously. “I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s so... much.”

Hannibal glances from your plate to his own, his visage neutral.

“I’ve served you a great deal less than I’ve given myself,” he says. “That said, I’m sure we can settle our differences. I’m not unyielding, if I can see some effort is being made.”

You look him in the eye, hoping you appear more bold than frightened.

“Dr Lecter, you make me all these courses, and they’re crazy even for a normal person. I feel like you do it on purpose. And afterwards my stomach hurts.”

“That’s normal, after a period of fasting. Your body will adjust. Now, please eat.”

You don’t. The cut on your plate makes you think of the Lover’s dolls, how even at your slightest you wouldn’t have fit into such a shell. How, changed as you must be through Hannibal’s cooking, you would ooze over every edge.

“I could use the feeding tube, if you’re unwilling,” says Dr Lecter, rising from his chair to stand at your back. “It would be relatively easy for me to administer. But I’d hate to sour an otherwise pleasant meal with brute force.”

He cups your throat in his smooth hand, and you envision how lovingly he’d coil about you in restraint, guiding the pipe down through you as you choked and flinched in his grasp.

“I’ll eat a quarter,” you say. “That’s it. Then... then nothing else until tomorrow. I won’t sneak out of bed, and I won’t do anything that breaks the rules. Please, Dr Lecter. Uh... Daddy?”

Your confusion between roles endears you to him, as does your breathless, eager willingness to beg.

“Should I allow you to barter?” Hannibal muses, still caressing the wand of your stiff neck. “It’s a symptom of your illness, after all.”

“Just let me choose how much and I’ll try anything you offer me.”

Dr Lecter releases a small breath of laughter.

“I wouldn’t like you to eat your words, little one.”

Gnashing your teeth, you say, “I won’t. I can do it. Please let me. You’re supposed to dote on me, aren’t you?”

You feel Hannibal’s lips against your hair in a kiss of paternal indulgence.

“Always so spirited,” he says. “Very well. I cannot deny my little beauty her request.”

What beauty does he refer to? You’ve only recognised it in the mine shafts of furthest hunger, mistaking a shadow for some precious stone.

Yet clearly you are not so low quality as you believe if both men have fucked you so freely over other women, whom they could conceivably draw into the net of the house.

Then again, there is no accounting for the tastes of madmen, and mad they both are, even Hannibal in his gelid divinity.

From the topiary of his language and flippant games you are beginning to see that you interest him in your very opposition to his being. Were you to succumb completely you would not be so worthy: all men bow to Hannibal, after all, seduced and deceived until they’d lick his fingers like lambs for the milk of his approval.

You, like Will, resist and evade enough of his passes to set yourself apart from the flock.

You may yet throw a halter over the head of the horned man, if only in as much as he allows himself to be reigned.

Quartering your meal as neatly as you're able, you glance up at Dr Lecter, afraid that, by some caprice, he’ll break his code and force you to eat down to the bare plate. But he merely stands by, retaining his honour, and as you look at him you picture his mild hands breaking the neck of the rabbit to drain as though for a ritual of blood.

*

Frequently through your days with Hannibal he immerses himself in hobbies and work about the house, cultivating a necessary solitude after the long hours of ingesting others’ anxious thoughts.

He reads, or writes music, sketches, telephones his friends and past lovers—of whom there are many—or else sets his pen to journals, having seen you safe to your locked room, where he need not prepare for misdemeanour.

In this way your residence in Hannibal’s home does not impede upon his individual pursuits, but rather compliments them, an accent of his sempiturnal glamour.

You are, after all, but one of his many pastimes. It is indulgence, then, when he insists on attending your evening bath.

As he kneels beside the tub to dampen a washcloth his intentions surface, another infringement upon the flesh.

“I don’t need you to help me,” you mumble, arms taut across your chest. “I’m not your baby.”

“Your inner child wails for the tenderness your illness has long obstructed,” says Hannibal, calmly. “Your independence would have you die like an infant abandoned to the forest. Let me carry you, at least in this small act of service.”

You look at him with eyes as dull as old blades and picture the futility of your struggle, his lithe arms holding you, kicking and airless, beneath the foam.

“Don’t you have your own daughter you can do all this with?” you ask; you’ve not yet needled him on his familial relations, and feel yourself more than entitled to know.

Hannibal begins to work the flannel over your naked form, paying no heed to your twitching affront.

“Abigail would have served the role admirably,” he says. “But it wasn’t to be. As for my own children, I have none.”

The revelation passes you without surprise. It’s only possible to imagine him having elegant, adult offspring, absent of the soiling indignities of rearing an infant.

“So you took me away for you and Will to raise,” you say. “Guessing he doesn’t have kids, either.”

The washcloth folds beneath the water, and you gaze studiously at the opposite wall so as not to think about the hand behind the fabric, how it has touched you in other ways, pleasantly, horridly.

“Will is also childless,” says Dr Lecter. “He has never known family, as you have. His mother left him when he was only an infant, and his father was a distant figure, though present. Now it seems that they’re estranged from one another. One can only imagine the loneliness Will has known in his life. Perhaps, with your assistance, this will change.”

Cloth, skin, hands, touch. Gentle and beguiling their trap, to distract from the permanence of this suggested triptych as fingers play against you underwater.

Unsteadily, you ask, “Is Will your boyfriend?”

Hannibal turns you an indecipherable look.

“Do you perceive our relationship to be romantic?”

A strange question, considering the violation with which you were inducted to their company. But not once did either man kiss or grasp the other— a technicality, certainly, yet one, it seems, that holds weight.

“Yes,” you say. “For you, anyway. I don’t know about Will. I know he thinks highly of you. He just sees me as something that’s in the way.”

You kick a foot testily, splashing water over the rim of the bath.

“What are you in the way of?” asks Hannibal, as he begins to lather your hair.

“Not sure. Your friendship, I guess.”

“Do you believe him when he implies that you're only an obstacle to him?”

Water pours over your head, and you close your eyes, enduring the sensation.

“He told me I’m unwanted,” you say.

“When you attempted to kill him?”

Fear bowls over you with a black suddenness.

“He told you?”

“I came to my own conclusions. You weren't quiet, either of you, that night."

You look at Hannibal, at the stag man of your dreams, and taste something like dirt, something like blood, at the back of your mouth.

“Had you seriously injured him or succeeded in your bid to end his life I would have been forced to conclude our treatment,” he says. “But you did not. I’m thankful to have been provided with a truth I hadn’t yet drawn from you: I know that you are not a killer, at least not at this present moment.”

In a strengthless whisper, you ask, “What do you mean?”

Hannibal draws a comb through your hair, unmoved by the conversation.

“As time changes the continents, people come apart through circumstance into new being. That shift may one day lead to the birth of murder’s country.”

A thought stings you like the cold: Will and Hannibal want you to be capable of killing, if not of them, then someone of lesser consequence, the hereditary illness emerging in the child.

That is the secret under this house, the whisper in the walls, its present haunting.

“I hope that never happens,” you mumble. “Never. No matter what you do.

“And yet the whetting of your blood thirst didn’t begin with Will and I,” says Dr Lecter, mildly. “Until you admit your liking of its flavour you will remain unsatisfied, little one.”

You do not ask how he knows you’ve thought of killing, once before, which you yourself had forgotten; having been in your home, the chill sanctum of your childhood bedroom, he may have learned, of you, a myriad, his interrogation merely a practice in contextualising his findings.

“I’d rather starve,” you say, at last, and sink your chin beneath the water.

Dr Lecter takes a razor from a nearby cabinet and begins to shave you with slow precision. He does not ask if you wish for it, only glides the razor across your underarms, groin, and each leg until you run silken beneath his hands.

That done, Hannibal rises, brushing unseen dust from his knees.

“I’ll bring you some fresh clothes,” he says, and leaves the room, a ghost departing the stage.

You look at the razor, entrapped in its plastic guard on the rim of the bath.

Had you a pair of scissors you might have cut the metal free to make a weapon, or else an escape into realms unknown to the living. Though its edge is still wickedness manifest, it would take a great deal of pressure to pursue death by this angle, though it would not be impossible.

It is not death you want to meet, however, but another, nameless coward.

You take the blade to your arm, and the pain is like eating, a sin that sates the freak of misery.

The bathwater turns like a devil’s baptism, and though they are but shallow cuts you feel suddenly faint. Lying back, you lay your arm against the porcelain, thinking murky thoughts of your mistake.

Hannibal returns carrying a muted lilac dress and pale stockings, stilling at the sight of you, of the water, red as autumn mud.

He sets down the clothing and kneels beside you again.

“Let me see.”

You let him take your arm and touch the crude little gashes softly.

“Shower, quickly. Then I’ll treat your wounds. Fortunately, they aren’t so deep.”

How gentle he is with you, this beast dressed as a man in his pressed shirt and waistcoat, guiding your numb form about with a soothing authority. You’d once yearned to be handled like this, to be absolved and set free of any and all expectation. That it comes from him is like being spit in the eye by the Fates, one after the other.

Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos: what have you done to so offend them?

It’s only after having bandaged your forearm and settled you, dummy-like, upon his bed, that Hannibal speaks again.

“What motivated you to do this?”

“You know.”

“Elaborate.”

You lie, face down, in the pillows. The cotton smells like him.

“To feel better,” you say. “Amy said it helped her, sometimes. Cleared her head.”

The mattress tilts slightly as Dr Lecter sits down beside you.

“You mirror her pain to feel closer to love lost. Has it helped you?”

“No. I feel stupid. I feel—”

Restless, you turn onto your side and feel a tear, compelled by gravity, mark your jaw.

“I feel like a kid,” you say. “It’s humiliating. I hate that I always feel this way. Don’t make me live like this.”

Dr Lecter presses a tissue into your hand, as much to save his bedclothes as to comfort you.

“Fighting the expression of necessary emotions will only stunt them further, little one. Will and I would dearly like to see you flourish. Amy would surely wish that for you, too.”

Cradling your wounded arm to your chest, you flick the used tissue to the floor with the other.

“Screw you,” you say. “Both of you. That’s what Amy would tell me to say to you, Dad.”

Hannibal stares at the tissue, and you sense the inward twitch of his irritation as he bends to pick it up from the ground.

“Your parents called again, this afternoon,” he says, offhandedly. “I informed them that you were struggling with your treatment. I advised that we continue your residence here a month longer than previously agreed.”

He casts you a pitying look, and you’re reminded of the futility of going to war with Hannibal Lecter.

“It seems that I made the prudent choice,” he says. “Don’t you agree?”

[lemotmo]

Another really good one, I like this because we're starting to see a lot of this redemption thing in the BT tags. This was a question about Gerard and his connection to Tommy. And now that we know they're not upset about us sharing their answers I feel okay sending it to you.

A. Happy Friday to you as well! Unfortunately, based on your question, I don't think you're going to like my answer, but I promised you guys my honesty so here goes. Gerard is not here for Tommy. Gerard is not here for a Tommy redemption arc. Mainly because we (the audience) are not meant to see Tommy as needing redemption. Tommy is a general audience character. Meaning everything we're supposed to know or care about where Tommy is concerned is what the show told us in season 7. He is the guy Buck is currently dating and he used to work at the 118 before Bobby took over. That's it. That's all the show needs the audience to care about, at least right now. Fandom people are the only ones who remember his exact history, and no offense to anyone, they didn't bring him in for us. He is there to serve a specific story purpose so his individual history is irrelevant. Gerard is there for Bobby, and increasingly I think, Eddie. The Bobby stuff is obvious, but Ryan has mentioned Gerard now in a couple of interviews so I think he's giving us a clue that Eddie and Gerard will be some kind of story.

The Tommy stuff depends on whatever reason the show decides to give for his breakup with Buck. And yes, I do genuinely believe that is what's coming. If he's meant to be the one responsible for Buck figuring out his feelings for Eddie then I don't think his history with Gerard will be brought up except maybe as a scene or two in passing (if it's not necessary for the breakup, it probably won't be mentioned at all). If Buck is the one they want to end things, and have him figure out his Eddie feelings another way, then I think Tommy's past with Gerard will play a bigger role in their breakup. Especially if he tells Buck to deal with him by just keeping his mouth shut, and his head down and ignoring him. We all know Buck won't do that, especially if Gerard makes Eddie a target. So it depends entirely on the reason for their breakup. They don't need Tommy in a ton of scenes to accomplish either scenario, which is good because I do think he will also be filming SWAT and his availability won't be great. If he's supposed to figure out the Buck and Eddie thing, and point it out to Buck, we will need his reaction to at least some Buck and Eddie moments, (or at least his reaction to Buck's reaction to some of those moments), so they might need him for a few more scenes if they go that route for the breakup. Either way I don't see him lasting past the winter finale. Whatever the plan for Buck, I think he'll be ready for Eddie by the break, maybe even before. I think the second half of the season will be getting Eddie ready and then building up to Buddie. I don't see them dragging the Buddie thing out all season but I do think it will be the latter part of the back half of the season. Depending on Lou's availability he may be done sooner than the winter finale. We just don't know yet. But as someone who has watched the show from the beginning I don't know what other direction the Eddie storyline could be going. It's he's queer, or they're writing him as never going to be in love again because he was that in love with Shannon (which would be god awful television), or he becomes a devout Catholic (absolutely not). Those are kind of the only outcomes they've given themselves. And I'm sorry you don't like them, but Buck and Eddie learning to navigate an actual relationship, given Eddie's intimacy issues, inability to communicate his feelings, and his family/upbringing, as well as Buck's abandonment issues and need to fix everything is interesting storyline after interesting storyline. No one will force you to watch. And you're correct that lots of people will be pissed off, but many more would love it. They're very well liked by the general audience, people have got to stop trying to convince themselves otherwise because it's simply untrue. They're popular, people like them and most people would be interested in watching that storyline play out. It feels earned. Earned by Buck and Eddie and the audience. I know this answer has probably upset you and many others, and that is never my intention, but I also don't believe in telling people what they want to hear when the canon events seem to be leading in a different direction.

*chef's kiss* love it love it love it

Hi Nonny, thank you for sending in this really interesting message from the ‘anonymous blog I love’.

For those of you who have missed it, the OP of these very interesting posts on BT and Buddie has contacted me yesterday. They are a BT shipper that also like Buddie and they are okay with me posting their messages. They do however, wish to remain anonymous because they don’t want to attract any more negative attention. Their inbox is probably already a minefield, so let’s not add to their stress and respect their wishes. Thank you.

If you are interested in the OP’s posts, you can find all of their posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

Now, let’s talk about this answer:

The answer above is very interesting to me. They talk about Tommy’s role in the whole Gerrard saga and I fully agree on most of it. They point out again that Tommy is there to serve a purpose in Buck’s story, so essentially he is there as a plot device in Buck’s narrative.

As for Tommy’s role in Buck’s story, I am of the belief that Tommy will be the one to tell Buck to just ‘Keep your head down, your mouth shut and pretend it isn't there.’ as he complains to him about Gerrard and how he treats his friends on the 118. This is something Buck could never do. He isn’t like Tommy, he can’t just accept and tolerate his friends being bullied by their new captain.

I agree with OP that Tommy will probably be gone by the end of 8a. His arc will be finished and the queer Eddie/Buddie arc will be in full swing by then. This arc won’t find its satisfying ending until well into 8b though. There needs to be drama first. And I do believe that there will be a lot of drama before we actually get the payoff of the Buddie storyline.

The fact that Eddie’s arc is most likely to go into the direction of him realising he’s queer seems unavoidable. It’s like OP said: It’s either queer Eddie with eventual Buddie or ‘never again in love’ Eddie. Two options and we all know which one will bring along the most press and a whole gaggle of new viewers. 😉

Now, as a treat, I have a second post from the OP for you today. This was sent to my mutual and friend @buddiebeginz and she has kindly allowed me to use her post on my blog in order to centralise all the posts from the OP. Thank you Justine!

For context I’d like to relay to you why this post was sent to Justine. She received an ask earlier which she replied to here. I urge all of you to read her reply as well, as it was very insightful and I do agree with most of it.

Anyway, someone else sent her an anon ask later on as a response to the post she made. This anon had found a reply from the OP as to why they thought that Tommy is ‘good’ for Buck ‘right now’ and why they enjoy the character’s role in Buck’s story for as long as it will last.

Keep reading under the cut. I didn't want to clog anyone's dash with too long of a post.

Here is that ask with OP’s answer:

I admit I really like this answer. The way they break down Tommy’s role in Buck’s story as Buck having a ‘fun and light’ first experience as a newly out bisexual, before the more ‘heavy’ Eddie and Buddie story will start. I understand it and I can see how that could be some valuable life experience for Buck, so he is strong enough to tackle the next part of the Buddie journey. I can logically 'perceive' that this is what the writers originally intended for the BT storyline.

Does this mean that I suddenly like Tommy and the BT arc? No. Definitely not. And I think the problem can be found in the way that Tommy and BT was written. He wasn't written as a very appealing character. I don’t see the chemistry between him and Buck and I think they don’t fit well together. Their ‘energies’ just don't match. I don't see enough proof of him truly caring about Buck in any of the episodes. So, I admit I can't see the 'light and fun' experience OP talks about. To me Tommy is just weighing Buck down with too much negativity.

And let's not forget about how we were all introduced to Tommy in season 2 and the way he treated Hen and Chimney. The man was never meant to be a 'nice and likeable' character with a questionable background like that. They tried to redeem him somewhat with the helicopter cruise ship rescue storyline, but to me it fell kind of flat.

And yes, of course there is also the ‘Eddie factor’. I have been shipping Buddie for years now, so whether I like it or not, I am biased towards Buddie. I am also not a multi-shipper. I just don’t have that in me. Once I latch onto a ship I never let go. 😊

So yeah, ultimately… different opinions make for more interesting conversations, right? And I love reading about OP’s opinions. Sometimes they match my own and sometimes they don’t, but I still respect them and value their view on 911. That’s what fandom should be about: sharing opinions, respectfully agreeing or disagreeing with each other, listening and learning from each other. It’s so much more enjoyable than sending anonymous hatred to someone’s inbox.

Anyway, once again I ask everyone to not post any hate towards the OP in the comments or reblogs. I do highly encourage a civil conversation about the topics discussed in this post. 😊

[celaenaeiln]

What's the deal with fanon Tim bc I read some comics with Tim and I've seen him in cartoons but all I see people talk about is "haha coffee addicted nerd who doesn't sleep!" and that just seems weird and wrong. Like my view of Tim has always been "he's a nice and extremely smart guy who sometimes pushes things a bit too far and maybe a bit set in his own ways/Batman's ways" but now I'm not even sure of that because I really haven't read THAT much (mostly seen him in other series) lol

No you're right!! Anon you're so right!!!

What the heck is up with fanon Tim Drake??

The thing about him not sleeping is actually true though

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #937

Batman: Contagion Issue #11

(I agree with Catwoman, Tim is so cute)

So I understand where the coffee addiction in fanon comes from but Tim's not actually addicted to coffee in the comics. I actually don't recall him mentioning coffee at all. At some point he might have but if he did, then those instances are so little in the grand scheme of things it might as well be called negligible if it's trying to be called an addiction.

But more importantly, Tim is so much more than that!! My favorite Tim Drake aspect of him is how sassy and sarcastic he is, it makes him so endearing!!

UGH NO ONE APPRECIATES HOW MUCH OF A LITTLE SHIT HE IS!!

Robin (1993) Issue #58

CMON CMON CMON LETS TALK MORE ABOUT THIS!!

Tim, you little shit, you know exactly what they say - cause you did it!!

HIS SELF-SATISFIED SMILE!!!

In all honesty I find Tim the funniest of the entire batfamily to read because he's so-he's so wholesomely quirky in a mean way. That's such as awkward way to describe it but reading his comics, you just can't get enough of them because he's just too funny!

At one point he has a massive fever and stuck underground with a bunch of weird kids and one of the girls is just like "please get better, please get some rest!" as she's wiping away his sweat and Tim has like no breath or energy at this point. But with the last remains of will power, he uses his breath to push one last question between lips.

Robin (1993) Issue #70

And as the audience waits in baited anticipation we get this-

Robin (1993) Issue #70

It's actually a very valid question and shows his detective thinking and yada yada yada but THE COMEDIC GOLD OF HIS TIMING!!

Like his situation and his question there's a massive gap that's almost incomprehensible about it all which is why it's so fantastic!!

The way he sasses batman is top 5 fav moments with him.

Azrael: Agent of the Bat Issue #91

Thanks @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 for finding it again <33

But Tim overall is just like a normal kid. He's what authors tried to do with Stephanie but failed. They were able to make him relatable to the audience because the way he acts, it's so quirky but funny. Yes, he's a boy detective genius but he likes messing with people, he likes solving crime, he likes hanging out with his big brother, he asks for relationship advice, he can get insecure, he can get upset without acting cold, he gets tired, he gets anxious, he's determined, and he's super dorky.

Robin (1993) Issue #25

Like really dorky.

But what I think really defines him is this panel

Robin (1993) Issue #48

This scene is probably what explains him best. Tim is someone who ponders a lot. He thinks constantly all the time whether it's about cases or his personal life, he just goes over the choices he makes constantly because he's just soul-searching alot.

He always means well even if he's awkward about it and he's just a diverse personality overall. The fanon interpretation of his character doesn't really do him any justice because it doesn't address how funny he is or confused or just a likeable, real person in general.

[sirenizer]

The Warm Embrace

[part 1] [part3]

As you made your way through the dense forest, the thrill of exploring for treasure filled your mind. You were so focused on the adventure ahead that the small dangers of the wilderness barely crossed your mind. That is, until something cold and many-legged crawled up your leg. Your body froze for a moment, and then, without a second thought, you let out a scream loud enough to send birds scattering from the trees.

Back on the ship, the crew’s conversations halted as your scream echoed over the water. Whitebeard let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. The older crew members exchanged knowing looks; they recognized that scream all too well. Grace might be one of the toughest people on the crew, but everyone knew there was one thing that could get that kind of reaction from her—centipedes.

“That had to be Grace,” Haruto said with a grin, glancing in the direction of the island.

Marco chuckled, shaking his head. “Probably another centipede. She doesn’t hold back with those things.” He looked over to Ace, who had a slightly bewildered expression, clearly unfamiliar with the situation. “Hey, Ace, mind checking on her?”

But before Marco even finished speaking, he noticed that Ace had already bolted, racing toward the forest.

Tartch smirked, watching Ace disappear into the trees. “Didn’t even know what was happening. He just took off the second he heard her scream.”

Meanwhile, deep in the forest, Ace was dashing through the trees, concern etched on his face. His mind raced through possibilities—maybe she’d encountered some dangerous animal or enemy. He pushed forward, brushing aside branches, leaping over rocks, and following the sound of your scream.

When he finally reached you, he found you frantically shaking your leg, your eyes wide and filled with panic as the centipede crawled higher. You didn’t even notice Ace at first, too focused on trying to get the insect off without actually touching it.

“A centipede?” Ace’s voice broke through, half-relieved and half-amused, as he took in the scene.

You didn’t care about his reaction; your only focus was on getting rid of the creature. “Yes, and it’s disgusting!” you said, practically hopping on one foot as you tried to shake it off, a trace of genuine fear in your voice. “Just get it off me!”

Ace tried to hold back a laugh as he stepped forward, brushing the centipede off your leg with a quick flick of his hand. He shook his head, amused at the sight of you so calmly demanding help despite the scream that had led him to think something terrible had happened.

"Really?” he said, grinning. “All that noise for a bug?”

You raised an eyebrow, meeting his teasing grin with a serious look. “If it’s got more than four legs, it’s got no business near me,” you replied flatly. “And I don’t care who hears it.”

Ace laughed, thoroughly entertained and a bit impressed by your honesty. “Alright, noted. I’ll be on centipede duty from now on,” he said, smirking.

You rolled your eyes, brushing off your leg. “Better be prepared,” you said with a smirk of your own. You continued down the path, glancing at the ground to make sure there were no other unwelcome creatures in sight, while Ace followed, still chuckling to himself.

As you and Ace ventured deeper into the lush island, the thick foliage gradually gave way to a stunning clearing bathed in golden sunlight. Before you stood the ruins of an ancient civilization, their stone structures looming majestically against the vibrant greenery, draped in vines and moss. Intricate carvings adorned the walls, depicting scenes of bravery, adventure, and mythical creatures.

Ace’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he strode toward the archway leading inside.

“Look at this place, Grace!” he called, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Bet we’ll find something incredible in here!”

You gave him a wary smile, unable to deny his infectious energy, though your instincts urged caution. “Just remember, ancient places like this often come with traps.”

But before you could say more, Ace dashed forward with a grin, disappearing inside. You sighed, quickening your pace to follow him. It felt nice being by his side, even if it was a little intimidating. In those moments together, especially after sharing watermelon and laughter under the stars, something within you had started to shift. You couldn’t ignore the spark that ignited whenever you were close to him, the way his presence warmed you from the inside out.

As you stepped onto the stone floor, a loud crack echoed through the ruin, and the ground beneath you gave way.

“Ace!” you shouted as the stone crumbled under your feet.

Reacting in an instant, Ace whirled around and lunged for you, his hand catching yours as you fell. You gasped as he pulled you close, his arm wrapping securely around your waist as both of you tumbled down into the shadows below.

For a moment, everything was a blur of motion and muffled sounds. But as you came to a stop, you found yourself still in his arms, your faces mere inches apart in the dim light. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, his strong, steady heartbeat beneath your fingertips as his gaze softened, his surprise melting into something more intense.

“You… alright?” Ace asked, his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant as his dark eyes lingered on yours. His face was so close, you could see the flecks of amber in his gaze, feel the heat of his breath.

Absolutely! We can seamlessly weave in the earlier moments from the story, emphasizing the emotional connection and development between Grace and Ace. Here’s how the narrative could flow, connecting the two parts while building on their feelings and experiences:

The ancient ruins loomed ahead, their towering stone structures cloaked in vines and shadows, promising mysteries and long-lost treasures. Ace’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he strode toward the archway leading inside.

“Look at this place, Grace!” he called, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Bet we’ll find something incredible in here!”

You gave him a wary smile, unable to deny his infectious energy, though your instincts urged caution. “Just remember, ancient places like this often come with traps.”

But before you could say more, Ace dashed forward with a grin, disappearing inside. You sighed, quickening your pace to follow him. It felt nice being by his side, even if it was a little intimidating. In those moments together, especially after sharing watermelon and laughter under the stars, something within you had started to shift. You couldn’t ignore the spark that ignited whenever you were close to him, the way his presence warmed you from the inside out.

As you stepped onto the stone floor, a loud crack echoed through the ruin, and the ground beneath you gave way.

“Ace!” you shouted as the stone crumbled under your feet.

Reacting in an instant, Ace whirled around and lunged for you, his hand catching yours as you fell. You gasped as he pulled you close, his arm wrapping securely around your waist as both of you tumbled down into the shadows below.

For a moment, everything was a blur of motion and muffled sounds. But as you came to a stop, you found yourself still in his arms, your faces mere inches apart in the dim light. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, his strong, steady heartbeat beneath your fingertips as his gaze softened, his surprise melting into something more intense.

“You… alright?” Ace asked, his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant as his dark eyes lingered on yours. His face was so close, you could see the flecks of amber in his gaze, feel the heat of his breath.

“Y-Yeah,” you replied, a bit breathless, surprised by how your heart seemed to race at his touch. “Thanks for… catching me.”

He chuckled softly, his usual easy grin returning but not quite hiding the way he, too, seemed caught off guard. “Guess it’s lucky I was close enough,” he said, though there was a new warmth in his voice, his grip around you firm but gentle.

You found yourself momentarily forgetting the ruins, the dark cavern you’d fallen into, as you met his gaze—both of you suddenly aware of the closeness. There was a spark between you, something unspoken but undeniably there. It was fleeting, gone in a heartbeat, but it left a strange, lingering warmth in your chest.

Realizing the moment had stretched longer than usual, you both drew back, slightly awkward as you steadied yourselves. Ace’s cheeks had a faint flush, barely visible in the low light, and he rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle.

“We should… probably figure out where we are,” he said, the usual confidence in his voice softened.

“Yes, right,” you nodded, feeling the heat fade as you regained your focus. Taking in the darkness around you, you noticed that the walls glowed faintly with symbols, giving the place an eerie but beautiful light. “It looks like some sort of hidden passage,” you said, stepping closer to inspect the symbols as your heart settled.

Ace moved to your side, but he seemed unusually quiet, stealing glances at you as if he, too, felt something new between you. He’d always been bold and carefree, yet in that instant, he appeared as uncertain as you, his usual bravado tempered by a new, quiet awareness.

As you both continued down the dark corridor, the silence between you felt different—not awkward, but charged with something unspoken. You brushed it aside, focusing on finding a way out, yet a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

After a while, you both emerged into a massive chamber, your footsteps echoing in the vast space. Tall pillars reached toward the unseen ceiling, adorned with carvings that told ancient stories. The room was silent, a tranquil yet eerie presence filling the air.

“This place is something else,” Ace murmured, his usual grin returning as he took in the sight.

But as you both stepped further inside, a faint rumble reverberated around you, chilling the air. The temperature dropped, sending a shiver down your spine—though this time, it had nothing to do with the centipede.

“Ace,” you whispered, instinctively moving closer to him. “We should stay alert. There’s… something here.”

As you ventured deeper into the ruins, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of your adventure, with treasures and secrets still waiting to be uncovered.

[fullsunised]

ɴᴄᴛ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ¹² : ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴋᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏғ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ sᴄᴇɴᴇs

. ★彡 genre: fluff?

. ★彡 trigger warnings: mentions of sex, kissing, undressing and swear words

. ★彡 requests open

. ★彡 a/n: for this the kdrama I'm imagining is like nevertheless or sm like that, but feel free to imagine any you lot want.

❝ 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒅𝒚𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉, 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒃𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕? ❞

╰─▸ ❝ 愛 . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐋𝐄𝐄 ] ࿐ྂ

bro is stressed. course, you told him the kdrama you will be acting was for mature audiences. but nah nothing would've prepared him for this. you two would be cuddling each other, watching your drama which you were against watching.

he's gonna awkwardly fiddle with his fingers, giggling uncomfortably when a kiss scene pops up, or when the male lead and you are so desperate to get them clothes off.  you'd be sitting there wondering what it would take for you to escape this situation.

After finishing it, he's definitely gonna commend you for the acting skills, and he's gonna make jokes about the mature scenes in the show, because in a way mark is open minded I suppose.

╰─▸ ❝愛 . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐀𝐍𝐆 ] ࿐ྂ

boy is side eyeing you the whole time. you two would be on the couch, watching your latest drama on Netflix, when he'd realise this was the one with the most kiss scenes you've ever done.

he's just looking at you like 'did you for real shoot all this' vibes. definetly let's you forward some scenes like the ones that get extreme just so he doesn't have to think about someone else touching this girl, even if it was just for acting.

honestly dou, he loves the story line a lot and praises you for picking a good drama, and for your acting. although later he's gonna play those scenes you skipped when he's all alone.

╰─▸ ❝愛 . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐄𝐄 ] ࿐ྂ

laughing. he doesn't really mind because he knows it's all acting in the end. he'd ask you stories about behind the scenes, how many times you had to retake a specific scene and all that.

gonna have them 'oo' eyes when there is a subtle sex scene showing up on the screen. would look at you to see your reaction, and chuckle when you are busy hiding your face in your hands.

in all honesty he wouldn't actually mind, although he'd probably later just fuck you or sm like that later, just because he can. definetly commends you for the acting and the skills you put into the show.

╰─▸ ❝愛 . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐄 ] ࿐ྂ

dramatic asf. he probably already stumbled upon a few clips online on twt or sm but when he's actually watching it boy is gonna be so over the top, you'd groan every single time he'd say something stupid.

is probably the type to clean your lips after watching a kiss scene because he wants the main lead's sense of you. boy is gonna be so over the top, like gasping everytime there is a kiss, or even holding his heart when there is like a subtle sex scene.

he'd even forget about the story line, because the only thing clouding his mind rn are the numerous scenes in a single drama. would be whining and shit, asking you to not do dramas like this again.

╰─▸ ❝愛 . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐍𝐀 ] ࿐ྂ

uh..he'd be supportive but whiny as well. latching onto your arm the whole time, just to tell himself you are here not kissing someone else. uh, he's probably just watching your reaction more than the show.

'can't believe you did all this' type of expression all over his face, you're stressed out about all this making him upset but he's understanding. but anyways, it doesn't take him less than a few episodes until he gets invested into the show.

slaps your arm so much, like 'what is happening next', he's so curious he treats it like someone else is the lead actress and not you, but later he's drowning you in kisses cause he's impressed by your acting , and cause he's jealous of them kisses in the show.

╰─▸ ❝ 愛 . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐄 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆] ࿐ྂ

he doesn't even wanna watch it but because of his members who keep sending him reels and tiktoks, bro is stressed. he doesn't wanna point it out and make it seem like he's uptight about it considering how you told him you were gonna act in one.

he's smiling of course everytime someone is talking about how good it is, or when his fans mention it everytime he goes live but boi knows he will never truly watch that show mostly cause he doesn't want to see you kiss someone else.

you would bring it up just to make fun of him, and bro is fuming, not the angry type but the jealous type, hitting your arm for teasing him and stuff. in the end, he decides to give it a try, and truly he loves the story.

╰─▸ ❝ 愛 . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 ] ࿐ྂ

he pretends to be busy, like very just so that he can say he doesn't have time to watch your show, but uh uh he's secretly following the whole show. boy is gonna be overthinking the whole time. he is suffering internally wondering if he should bring it up or no.

gonna give you the cold shoulder for sure. not because he doesn't want you to act, but because he's just jealous about how your fans are shipping you and the main lead. you'd notice it, text his members and then finally confront him.

leave the poor boy alone he has a hard time communicating his feelings, anyways, after you reassure him how all of that is a show and nothing else, you'd start watching the show together.

FULLSUNISED.

[changeling-fae]

You know, thinking about how Raphael and the Emperor fill similar roles but with different methods and how Raphael’s “better the devil you know” takes on a double (triple?) meaning. Raphael straight up tells you what he is and uses that as leverage against the Emperor who deceives you pretty much the whole time.

And for a lot of people it works, people in general prefer honesty up front and while Raphael is absolutely a shady devil, most people would respect his candor over being lied to from the start. Not everyone of course, the Emperor’s tactics still seems to work on a lot of players, given how many never learn he was manipulating them from start to finish.

But I really do like the scene of Raphael laying out all his cards and giving you an opportunity to compare them against the Emperor.

The Emperor could argue he lied about who he was because no one would trust an illithid (which is likely true) but he now has the disadvantage of another shady being persuading his target because said shady being was up front with who he was.

I do vibe way more with Raphael (obviously lol), and I recognize a lot of it is, yeah he was upfront about who he is and his motives. And while arguably headcanon territory, it’s still pretty clear that Raphael has some “affection” (in his own way) for us versus the Emperor who the moment you break through his facade, clearly cannot feel affection.

When he tries to seduce your character and if you turn him down, the narrator actually makes a pretty clear note of planting suspicion about how fast and suspiciously quick the Emperor changed tactics and words despite 5 sec prior talking like he cares about us.

Actually I wouldn’t say it’s that headcanony that Raphael has an attachment to us, all the jokes aside about him having a crush, we get the evidence that he has an attachment from other places aside from Raphael’s mouth.

The diaries and plaque (if you sign the contract) proves it in the sense that in game, Raphael never expected us to see his writings or his vault. And the archivist in the vault says something along the lines about how special we are to Raphael and how Raphael has a “softer spot” for mortals than most, and the archivist says all this to us thinking we’re just some random devil in disguise. Information that wasn’t meant for our ears technically.

Meanwhile you got the Emperor over here who is very good at faking affection and sympathy until you start to examine him more. Then he drops it like a rock, it’s almost scary how quick he can.

Raphael is oddly relatable because he is kinda pathetic in his own way. You can see where and how he got to being who he is. The Emperor is, well, alien. He’s definitely very good at utilizing his old memories of when he was mortal to his advantage, but that mortal is dead and he’s basically just another illithid, just one who happens to be more independent than most.

And while this is all speculation on my part, it’s clear that Raphael both hates but is attached to mortals, likely because of his own existence. He’s half mortal but lives and is bound by the rules of hell like a devil. I think he envies some of the freedom to choose that mortals have, and that’s why he’s so insistent that mortals don’t have choice. He wants that freedom to choose but can’t because of his nature (“hell, hell, hell has its laws”) and he’s trying to convince either himself and/or mortals that they don’t have a choice either, to cover up that envy he feels.

Imagine being the child of one of the big bad archdevils who rules over a layer of hell. There probably is a level or feeling of helplessness that he never had a choice but to be what he is.

And you can contrast that with the Emperor who is no longer mortal and while definitely fighting for his own independence and freedom, is quite content to be what he is.

Considering the whole game has strong themes about choice, fate, and freedom, it’s just fun how even the antagonists shares those struggles same as our characters and the companions.