#keep in mind they might not even like each other. i have basically no evidence for this other than they hang out a lot

[everysongineverykey]

the thing is my entire life i've never really been interested in like. yandere plots or stories about killing the person your crush likes or whatever cause i could never relate. but right now because of this maybe-crush i'm like. nods silently oh i get it now. i get it.

[atlabeth]

too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 2.4k

warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff

Hotch can’t focus. 

Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem. 

You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.

You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you. 

And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.

Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now. 

It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon. 

Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them. 

But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention. 

Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once. 

Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in. 

But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did. 

You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive. 

It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake. 

But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher. 

Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it. 

Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder. 

Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking. 

But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night. 

It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce. 

“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time. 

“What?” 

“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips. 

“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.” 

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.” 

“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.” 

Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—” 

“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.” 

“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.” 

“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.” 

“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.” 

Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.” 

Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you. 

“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you? 

“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.” 

“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.” 

JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.” 

Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.” 

“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.  

“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.” 

Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief. 

“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl. 

“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?” 

“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.” 

Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?” 

“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.” 

“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.” 

“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs. 

He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination. 

“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.” 

“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind. 

“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.” 

“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.” 

Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes. 

“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 

Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”

“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.” 

He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did. 

“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.” 

“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to? 

You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.” 

Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk. 

His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything. 

Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol. 

He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say. 

He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.” 

“How do you feel about tequila?” 

You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.” 

“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.” 

Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.” 

“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.” 

“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.” 

“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.” 

“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles. 

“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.

And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows. 

“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.” 

Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be. 

[hearts4renaa]

HE IS IN LOVE.

summary: things the bsd men do that show how in love with you he is. featuring atsushi, akutagawa, dazai, chuuya, ranpo, and kunikida

contains: fluff, gender neutral reader. based off of “you are in love” by taylor swift

a/n: ahhh bsd they could never make me forget about you. reblogs are always appreciated <3

you can hear it in the silence. you can feel it on the way home. you can see it with the lights out. you are in love. true love.

—

he says “look up”, and your shoulders brush.

ATSUSHI points out anything and everything that is even slightly related to your relationship. you could be walking down the streets together and he’d suddenly point at a restaurant sign while talking excitedly, “remember how we had our first date there?!” or he’d point at a mannequin in a window and go “the color of the shirt is like those shoes you wore at ___!!” he loves you so evidently that you seep into everything he sees. for him, the world has never been so colorful.

—

no proof, one touch. but you felt enough.

AKUTAGAWA squeezes your hand three times to tell you he loves you. he’s fully aware it’s cliche as hell, but that’s never deterred him. he squeezes your hand at the most random times too. talking to a cashier? i love you. watching a film at your place? i love you. cooking in your kitchen? i love you. he may not always tell you with words, but akutagawa never fails to remind you that he loves you. you are always his favorite thing to think about.

—

morning, his place. burnt toast, sunday.

DAZAI wakes you up with three things: a kiss, a coffee, and an attempt at breakfast. keyword: attempt. bro cannot cook for shit, and he knows it, so he ends up just making you toast. it’s either barely toasted or it’s burnt, no in between. but, your coffee is always exactly how you like it, and he makes sure to write you a cheesy little note no matter what. the giggles you have at the sight of his toast makes up for the tiny bit of embarrassment he feels for still not having the toast method down. he loves you, and he knows you’ll always love him, no matter how shitty his cooking is.

—

you keep his shirt. he keeps his word.

CHUUYA swears to you before every mission that he’ll come back home to you. and he never fails. you are always on his mind, no matter how much danger he is in. he makes sure to fight long and hard if it means that at the end of the day, he gets to be in your arms. it even works for simpler things, like if he was too lazy to fill out his reports. all he has to do is remember that you’re at home waiting for him, and that gives him all the motivation he needs. they say home is where the heart is, and his heart belongs to you.

—

you two are dancing in a snow-globe round and round.

RANPO spontaneously dances with you whenever he thinks the atmosphere is pretty. when the first snowfall hit, he brought you out to dance. when there was a soft shower of summer rain, he brought you out to dance. when the sun shone through the clouds, he brought you out to dance. he doesn’t care about the lack of music or coordination. you could step on each other’s feet a thousand times, but he’d still wear the same joyous smile. no matter the weather, no matter how bad his feet might hurt after. he always thinks you’re the most beautiful when you’re dancing with him.

—

and he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown.

KUNIKIDA has a little corner on his desk in the agency’s office basically dedicated to you. he has little trinkets you’ve given to him all laid out nicely, along with his favorite picture of you all framed. dazai teases him every time he walks by. kunikida tells him off each time, but he never removes anything off his desk. he glances at your picture every time he feels a little burnt out or tired. you keep him grounded, in a sense. you remind him about the reason why he’s doing all of this in the first place. there is good in the world. he knows that the world can be good because you were good to him. and he can only hope he’s been as good to you.

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

Addressing The Tinhatters: A Statement in Solidarity With @dtmsrpfcringe And Others

I've been active in this fandom for a little over a year, and in my time here I've kept my slate pretty clean. I try not to involve myself in drama and discourse, and when I see something I don't agree with online, most of the time I keep it to myself. I've been aware of the blogs I refer to in this post basically from the onset, but I've stayed quiet, partially to not come across as disrespecting others' opinions and preferences and partially to protect my peace and my own life as a creator. But what started as mostly harmless, if a bit unhinged and delusional, behavior, has turned on some fronts into unimaginable cruelty the likes of which I never imagined this fandom to be capable of. As someone who it seems people in this fandom have come to respect, I think it would be unfair and selfish for me to stay neutral any longer.

Fanfiction has been a genuinely transformative force in my life. It has helped me discover so much about my own relationships to love and desire, and I would never want to tell anyone that it is wrong for any ship to be that source of inspiration for them, including RPF. Nor do I think, as I've said, that it's inherently wrong to have speculative thoughts about David and Michael's sexualities. As someone who has been lucky enough to interact with David several times now, and probably will again, I choose not to do so myself in a public forum out of respect, but curiosity doesn't have to be invasive, and David and Michael being in loving partnerships with women certainly doesn't mean they can't be attracted to other genders too. There's nothing wrong with liking the idea of a relationship between David Tennant and Michael Sheen, or even, really, with believing they might have feelings for each other. If that's all you're doing, this post isn't about you. What I absolutely cannot excuse is the proliferation of hypocritical, nonsensical, and nasty rumors about the women in their lives.

Nothing Georgia Tennant or Anna Lundberg seems to do is ever good enough. Every expression of positivity is curated and phony, anything that could be perceived as negative vile and mean. I see these women attacked on a daily basis as partners, as mothers, as actresses. Georgia is simultaneously presenting a false ideal of a perfect, happy family for her own gains, while somehow at the same time being too irresponsible and incompetent to be a proper parent. Anna, a still young and up and coming actress herself, is expected to perform the ideal of an affectionate partner on social media, is perceived as unsupportive of Michael when she doesn't, when in reality she may simply be trying to make a name for herself in the industry without people solely associating her with the man she loves. Both of these women share in David and Michael's advocacy for marginalized communities, sometimes in different, more or less obvious ways. David and Michael are always brave and sincere, while Anna and Georgia's actions are always self serving and performative, though no evidence is ever given to indicate that the things they post or charities they support are any sort of cover or deflection. Nor are there ever any reasons given for their perceived lack of onscreen talent, other than that they're "boring" or don't have as many jobs as their husbands- never mind that both of them are in an extremely competitive industry and get perfectly respectable amounts of work, especially for mothers of young children. Worst of all, I've seen them accused of things as awful as child abuse and rape, all for the crime of simply being married to the wrong men. It's all so horribly gendered too, David and Michael often referred to as the "men" while Georgia and Anna are reduced to negative stereotypes of nagging, shallow gold diggers. As a fandom populated with so many queer people, many of whom, myself included, have found freedom from gender roles with Michael and David's characters' help, I thought we knew better.

I've been lucky enough to meet both David and Georgia now, and have witnessed firsthand the easy, joyful affection they have for each other when no one of consequence is watching, the way they giddily hold hands on the street and make each other laugh while tenderly looking into each other's eyes even and especially after sixteen years together. Georgia when I met her was incredibly kind, down to earth, and approachable, and my partner, who's met her several times more than I have, gushes about her constantly- how funny, authentic, and intelligent she is, and of course, how much she and David love each other, how they look out for each other and adore each other's flaws and quirks. David of course still gushes about Georgia every chance he gets in speeches and interviews, her strength and brilliance as well as her beauty, and Georgia, while maybe not always as effusive, shows her love for David in plenty of ways, the beautiful candid photos she takes of him, for instance. There's such a soft, painterly tenderness and fondness in them, for the man, not just the dazzling star everyone else gets to see. Her David, gentle, devoted, goofy, aging, melancholy, imperfectly perfect David. Where would we be without Georgia giving us these little glimpses of him? I suspect the same people who deride Georgia's social media presence as try-hard, cringeworthy, artificial, would feel a bit differently if one day they stopped coming.

I can't speak as clearly on behalf of Anna and Michael, but the accounts I've gotten of her and Michael's relationship from eyewitnesses have presented it as no less loving than David and Georgia's, albeit in slightly different ways. Even then, why should I have to? She doesn't owe me anything. I doubt anyone who's made the posts accusing Anna and Georgia of being nasty baby trappers has ever had children. There's no such thing as a perfect mother, and even one child is a massive task. It's normal to not be a shining ray of affection all the time, and Georgia I know more than makes up for it with her fierce love and support for her children in all of their endeavors. Georgia is also a diagnosed neurodivergent woman, and so many of the remarks I see directed at her are clearly discriminatory and often directed at women with her diagnoses. Everyone coos over how charming David is when he shows signs of being AuDHD, but the second his wife does too, she's careless and cold. And don't even get me started on when photos of Michael and David looking anything less than beatifically happy get interpreted as them being miserable due to their wives treating them so poorly. THEY'RE HUMAN BEINGS!!! NEUTRAL FACIAL EXPRESSIONS EXIST!!! WOULD YOU BE A SPARKLING RAY OF SUNSHINE IF YOUR DISNEYLAND RIDE GOT STUCK!!!

I say all this now not even because I think I have any hope of stopping the people in question, but because one of the main fighters on the front of the opposition, @dtmsrpfcringe, has been both a wonderful online friend to me and dealt with even worse abuse than that which gets hurled at Anna and Georgia on the daily. When my blog was briefly overrun by TERFs in light of the Tennant/Badenoch/Sunak drama, Tori was the first person to stand up for me, and as she recieves more vitriol in one day than I've ever experienced in my entire life online, I think I've taken far too long to do the same for her. This woman has dealt with doxing threats, attacks on her character, and most horrific of all, wishes of death upon her and her baby. No one would blame her for stopping, but she has remained steadfast in her mission to call bs where she sees it, and she shouldn't have to do it alone. Tori, I think you are so brave, and I am proud to stand in solidarity with you against the misinformation, meanness, and misogyny that threaten to corrupt this fandom we call home.

Even after all we've been through over the past couple of months, I still believe the Good Omens fandom and David and Michael's individual fandoms to be places of kindness, empathy, and inclusivity. Which is why such cruel behavior (because there's no other word for it) is utterly disappointing and baffling to me. You should be utterly ashamed of yourselves. You're the exact kinds of people David and Michael speak out against on a weekly basis, and I guarantee that if you engage in the kinds of behavior I've highlighted here, they would be disgusted with you. Or maybe they'd simply pity you, because your lives are so empty that you've decided the only way to fill them is to sacrifice the reputations and peace of innocent women on the altar of a relationship that in all likelihood takes place solely in your own heads.

And if you read all this and find you still ship David and Michael, which even I do sometimes, well, there's always polyamory.

I'm sleepy! good night and kindly fuck off! - Lauren

[avelera]

What if Louis/Armand in AMC IWTV is meant to be torture... for Lestat?

Basically... what if the whole relationship between Louis and Armand, going back to when Armand first encountered him, is a deliberate "fuck you" to Lestat by Armand, and that is his chief motive for having the relationship at all? For keeping Louis in a gilded prison, for making Louis his love at all, for allowing the interview, and for little things like telling Lestat that Louis was injured, but not telling him where or how to help or passing on the "I love you" to Louis, and perhaps effectively keeping Louis away from Lestat ever since in a game of keep-away, as the most effective way to torture Lestat that Armand has in his possession.

I want to preface this theory by saying it's probably a bridge too far. That's a lot of premeditated malice to ascribe to Armand. I do think there was and is love there between Armand and Louis as seen in the show.

But at the same time... this might surprise some show watchers, but book Armand is an ancient creature of malice who uses his boyish looks to appear soft and gentle when he is anything but. He's over 500 years old and he spent 200 of those years running the Paris Children of Darkness, a Satanic organization that gave his life meaning and purpose during those years.

And even with show Armand, we've seen him capable of playing the long game, pretending to be someone else in Season 1 as he played Fake Rashid, with motives for doing so that are still inscrutable.

We've already seen as of ep 2.6 that Lestat broke up Armand's Paris Coven, the Children of Darkness. But I want to get into why Armand might have been lying about how he was fine with it, that he saw it coming for years, that Lestat was just the instrument of his own desire to move on from that squalid situation.

What if he wasn't fine with it? What if he still isn't fine with it? What if the long game, ever since, is to take everything away from Lestat that Armand can get his hands on, including Claudia, but especially Louis?

Well, to give my evidence for this I'll have to delve into the books a bit, so proceed at your own risk for spoilers.

Here's an excerpt from The Vampire Lestat, with Armand speaking to Lestat after the events in Paris, when he forced Lestat to testify in the trial against Louis and Claudia, because it was always Armand's plan to put Claudia on trial so he could get rid of her and have Louis for himself. For Louis to be buried alive in punishment so that Armand could save him and they could depart together:

"[Armand] leaned forward, and his face transformed itself as it had done years and years ago, as if his rage were melting it from within. 

“You, who destroyed all of us, you who took everything. Whatever made you think that I would help you!” He came closer, the face all but collapsed upon itself. “You who put us on the lurid posters in the boulevard du Temple, you who made us the subject of cheap stories and drawing room talk!” ...

...“We had our Eden under that ancient cemetery,” he hissed. “We had our faith and our purpose. And it was you who drove us out of it with a flaming sword. What do we have now! Answer me! Nothing but the love of each other and what can that mean to creatures like us!”"

Armand plays the long game. Armand is a creature of spite and malice, at least through Lestat's eyes in his own autobiography.

Armand was not fine with the Paris Coven being dispelled. He was not fine with Lestat's generosity or the new purpose given to him by Lestat by establishing the Theatre des Vampires. He loathed it.

And after this above exchange with Lestat, Armand picked up Lestat and flew him up high above Paris and dropped him. Armand did that to Lestat in the books, it wasn't Lestat to Louis (though that could simply be a change for the show, or perhaps even reinvented as a deliberate act of revenge on Louis' behalf for what Lestat did to him, and not some sort of mind alteration by Armand but... we'll see.)

It would be a hell of a twist to end the season on. Arguably, a twist akin to the reveal of Rashid-is-actually-Armand at the end of the first season. That this has all, all of it, since the 1940s been one long revenge play against Lestat.

Again, I think it's probably a bridge too far, too cartoonishly evil, but...man, there is that but lingering in my mind. Because this is the sort of thing Armand would do. He's done it before in the books with the trial of Louis and Claudia being one elaborate pantomime to punish Lestat and Claudia and get Louis to himself.

And it's been bothering me ever since the reveal at the end of S1 that we're in an AU where Louis/Armand stayed together instead of breaking up right after Paris like they did in the book. And if I was writing this canon divergence AU, it would be a hell of a thing to make the pivot point be, "No, Louis and Armand didn't break up because Armand wouldn't let Louis go because all of this has been one long elaborate fuck you to Lestat for destroying the Children of Darkness and robbing Armand of the purpose he'd had in life for over 200 years." 70 years of revenge by comparison? That's nothing.

[dufferpuffer]

In continuation of the 'pillow prince/ss/' topic.. Snape sex hcs? I remember you said it's basically impossible to drag him into bed but I'D TRY.

You're just spoiling me, aren'tcha? First Remus now Sev... Severus Snape is devoted to duty. Its the only thing holding him together. How often does he even go to bed…? A full-time teacher, a spy, a death eater, Dumbledore's dark little knight - He probably considers the time he spends marking 'rest enough'.

His self-esteem is dead. So dead he has come to terms with its corpse and uses it as protection. He's been teased his entire life for his looks. By his parents, by his schoolmates, by his teachers, by his cult, by his students... He's proud of how it has hardened him. It's become part of his ego: He's heard it all before - and now the words run off his oily feathers like raindrops.

Having someone say they think him anything less than hideous? Baffling. But while Remus would become a flustered mess... I think Severus would stages-of-grief it. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression… Because his romantic, affectionate side is also a corpse. It died alongside his best friend and he's spent the last decade-and-a-half making sure it stays buried.

To bring it back? That will take a stubborn dedication that rivals his. It takes grit and damn near necromancy. He will fight back, too - because to raise it from the dead is to raise Lily along with it. That is the greatest hurdle: Best friend or love of his life - either way she was the only person he has been affectionate with. He will need to digest that. He hasn't worked through his grief yet, because it is a difficult thing to work through alone. …but he CAN reach Acceptance.

One step, one stage at a time - peeling down each layer of his onion, like an ogre... Things move slowly with Severus - and in the opposite order you might expect. I guess I will go through what a relationship would be like with Severus, in a sorta dot-point fanfic format:

First note: He is allergic to showing weakness - and what he considers a weakness can be... strange. Indulgence. Emotions, affection, touch, company - he has no time for that garbage. He is in control of himself, of his body, of his feelings, of his life. Meticulous, complete control. This man 'tops' exclusively**

He is ashamed of masturbation. It means he has lost control of his emotions - and it grinds against his ego like sandpaper. He almost never does it. Thinking about anyone in particular when doing it is an insult to them - and he hates feeling guilty. He keeps it simple and almost self-harmingly dry. He has more important things to be doing with his time than engaging with this weakness…

You make your interest in him clear. He goes through everything - he belittles and denies your feelings, he gets angry with you for bothering him, he asks you to stop saying such nonsense... and he gets frustrated that even when you've finally shut up, he is STILL dwelling on it. He spends so long just tossing things up, sorting through his grief, imagining it... so, SO sick of jerking off… …when the dam bursts - he fucks. If he is going to be spending all this time obsessing over these stupid feelings he may as well get something out of it. Only sex, though. Sex he is in control of. Clothes on, greedy, not pretty, not nice. 'Thats what you wanted from me, yes? Well you've gotten it. Happy?!?' ((He does not expect the answer to be 'yes'.))

He thinks one time was too many, and did it only to take it off his mind - and to stop having you bother him about it. But it is easier for you to get him to do it a second time. And then a third... fourth... The more times it happens - and nothing embarrassing or bad follows... well, if he has done it once, he may as well do it more, right…? You are evidently trustworthy. '…You may come to my chambers IF I call - at no other times. I am too busy to play silly games.' A casual physical relationship - to solve a problem of distraction and concentration. That's all.

He does start to call. Occasionally at first - and every time he almost shows surprise that you actually turn up. But he gets less and less surprised... and starts getting more and more needy. 'You're late. I sent for you half an hour ago. Do you think I am made of time?!' He doesn't even realize how needy he sounds, because this activity is now ingrained in his routine. He is used to it. And because he is used to it: He touches more. More clothes come off. But never his own. He has gone from 'hands-on-waist' fucking to caressing your naked body - slow rolls of his hips, making his own breathe shudder, enjoying every sensation.

One day his summons aren't replied to. At first he angry. How dare you. How DARE you waste his time!? The next time they are alone he snaps at you bitterly. 'Finally tired of me? Got your fill? Met a better man?' When the response is more along the lines of 'I was a bit ill' or 'I was out'... he realizes he has shown far too much of his hand. How embarrassing. He is speechless at his own foolishness. He showed an inch of vulnerability and expects to be raked through the coals for it. ...What he doesn't expect is acceptance, tenderness and respect.

He had forgotten that he wasn't the one to initiate this arrangement - that he was wanted. Desired. In his mind he had taken control: Everything happened when he wanted, where he wanted and in whichever way he wished. To be touched in a friendly way? To he apologized to - for being made to worry? To have make-up sex offered…? '…Yes. Alright.' Its the next layer peeled off. He starts listening to offers, enjoying being asked instead of being answered. It's still a casual affair - and yet seeing them talk to other people no longer makes his hackles raise in concern for his secrets. Running into them in the morning no longer makes his skin crawl with shame and embarrassment for the night before. He feels excited when they pay a visit in the midday, offering an impromptu meeting. It is oddly... comfortable.

Of course it can't always be sex in the midday. It is too much effort, takes too much time, energy and clean-up. It suits him fine when you jump on the chance to put him in your mouth. At first he is a little taken-aback - but it feels nice. He says nothing other than contented hums, but as you get better he groans and arcs his back a little. He doesn't care what happens when he finishes - swallow or not, as long as it is not a mess for him to clean up. …Well, he tries to be that callous about it… but it doesn't last long. There is a tenderness to the act he can't deny. It isn't the mutual-benefit fucking. This is a gift for him to enjoy. That realization settles and festers in him. It creates a soft feeling he doesn't recognize... and a desire not to owe you anything.

So, without much fanfare: he reciprocates. He gets you on his seat, or on his desk, and gets down on his knees... He is a little nervous about it - when was the last time he did this, if ever…? - But he has no need to be. He is a god with his mouth. It's his attention to detail. His devotion to getting things done thoroughly and properly - even this. What starts as an embarrassing action from the weakness of his heart turns into a strong pleasure for him. He LOVES oral. It isn't him losing control: it's him gaining it. Even when his hair is gripped and yanked, even if he is pulled close and suffocated a little on you - HE is making that happen. HE is making you do that. He never expected this to make him so happy, so hot. He never expected to undo the buttons of his high collar so his neck could move more easily, to unbutton and fold up his right sleeve so he could get his hands messy... To have enough fun to start saying some truly dirty things… 'That good, is it~?' 'My-! How delicate you are today!' 'Stop squirming. Too sensitive…? Just grit your teeth and bear it.' ...and he didn't expect to not be laughed at for such things.

He certainly didn't expect to get so into it that he kissed you to shut you up as you came. A shock to both of you… another wall crumbled. Turns out he likes that too. He starts initiating sexual activity with a kiss. He prefers kissing to talking. It is succinct and expressive. Walk into his office: as soon as the door is shut your back is pressed against it, wrists in his hands, his mouth against yours. If he starts losing control of the kiss he gently bites your lip, dragging his teeth along it teasingly. Your tongue invades his mouth before he has a chance to do it first: he just about shoves your hands into his robes, tearing into your clothes... This man lives for kissing now.

But he still doesn't realize this is more than casual, that this is something he needs… Until you chat. Its a quiet moment. You comment on the parchments rolled at the edge of his desk. 'Oh - that is just my own research into the effects of aconite. I had to work with it extensively a few years ago.' You take an interest, and he starts regaling deeper and deeper into his studies: how poorly documented others' research is; how it reacts to other ingredients; how modern brewing processes can draw so much more out of it - 'you know, the plant is often just passed off as toxic when even basic purification charms are enough to-' ...He is blabbering. On and on about a dull topic nobody cares about… yet you are listening. His jaw drops a little. He realizes that, for the first time in two decades, someone cares. Someone truly cares. About HIM. His thoughts, his interests... He never thought he could have this again. He didn't think that for the sex, either - but sex, compared to this, was easy to procure. He wants to kiss you again. But not for lust this time.

Suddenly it doesn't feel so embarrassing to allow his eyes to become wet, to draw a shuddering breathe as he builds the courage - of which he has masses of - to say something important: '…I am afraid I have come to love you.' It is a terrifying thing to say, but he has never once shied away from saying what is important, even if it results in pain. And yet this time, for once… he feels like he can trust that it wont.

** Many times later, he is laying down as his shirt gets unbuttoned, his collarbone kissed... He doesn't feel ashamed, even as he gently strokes his own dick, encouraging it to harden. He pulls his arms from his shirt sleeves, fearless of his dark mark being exposed. For once work is at the back of his mind as he allows himself to be pushed back down to into the pillows, chuckling as he is told: 'Shh… just lay still darling… I'll take care of you tonight…' ...And he does. Control well out of his hands and a smile on his face.

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Crosshair and Omega's dynamic

Spoilers for episode 4

Out of all of Omega's relationships with the Batch, I have to say my favorite is the one with Crosshair (and it's not because I'm biased towards him). Even though they only had like two full episodes to work off each other, they do it so well. It's peak sibling relationship. But why I think it works so well is because of how they work off each other. In my eyes, Omega and Cross see each other as equals or at least on similar levels. This is evident with how they guide each other when fleeing from the Empire. There's no clear leader between them, the pair listen to each other depending on the situation.

Crosshair's skills are basically fighting and playing lookout. Both are very handy to have. Whenever a fight breaks out, Omega lets Crosshair take the lead and he works to protect her and himself. That's not to say Omega can't hold her own, but when the going gets tough, the tough get going (credit Lion King 2 for that cheesy line). Cross also takes a natural protective stance around her. While she does the technical stuff, he keeps watch. He might say it isn't part of his skill set, but believe me, it is.

Then, we have Omega. She's much better at hustling and seeking alternative ways to get things done. It's true that blaster fire will draw more attention to one's self. Thus, Crosshair lets her guide him in situations where they need to be more low-profile. Omega is also better with social situations imo. She's a smart kid who learned a lot from her other brothers and Cid. I love that the show gives both characters to exercise their unique skill set while not undermining the other.

The other reason why I love their relationship so much is because of how it's changed Crosshair. In the months that he and Omega have been imprisoned, he's truly grown to care for and respect her. First off, he uses her name. The only other people he does that with is Hunter and Wrecker. Secondly, he follows her lead with almost no question. He does complain and make comments. BUT, he still follows her. Crosshair in season 1 mocked Hunter for listening to Omega. Little did he know that he would follow her over 6 months later (yes, I did the math).

And then there's the emotional piece of it. Crosshair is so open with Omega in his body language, facial expressions, and words. She brings out the best side of him and I am here for it. Compare that to when we first meet him in Clone Wars. He's quiet, hangs back, and usually wears a stern look on his face. Now look at him with Omega. He's much more talkative. His face emits so much emotion from being fed up to genuine concern. There is no doubt in my mind that he loves Omega. He encourages her and openly voices his concerns. I myself struggle with opening up to others about certain except for a few people. Seeing Crosshair opening to someone who he feels comfortable with is truly beautiful and heartwarming. Between Mayday and Omega, you can see just how much Crosshair has changed.

Finally, the imperial officer casually calling Crosshair Omega's dad and her not saying anything proves that Crossdad is real. It's so on the nose, but it's so obvious that Crosshair cares for her and is good at keeping her safe.

[puppetwoman17]

So I have this weird headcanon. And it’s definitely not true. And it’s got almost no merit to it. And I still like to think it’s real.

Basically, one or two apparitions show up to every location where there’s been a family tragedy, or if in that tragedy, a mystery hasn’t been solved. One of them is a man in a hat and trenchcoat, shrouded in shadows. The other is a woman in 1940s housewife garb, dress, gloves, and all. She’s always humming, but the song isn’t something anyone could recognize if they heard it. Very rarely will they both be there.

I think you can guess who they are.

They aren’t invisible to regular eyes. People see them. The truly hidden truth is WHY they’re there. Billy and Mary are the only people who know that reason. So whenever they see one or both of their parents in a seemingly normal place, their alarm bells go off. It comes to a point where they disregard all prior evidence and ignore how happy and normal everything looks, because if mom and/or dad is here, something is definitely wrong.

It doesn’t have to be just places on Earth too. Kal sees the shadow man in a picture he finds of past-Krypton, and doesn’t think anything of it. Months later, him and Kara reunite.

Bruce finds old camera footage of THAT alley. The one his parents died in. There’s a woman walking down it, paying no mind to how creepy it really looks. Anyone else would be running to get out, or being as quiet as a mouse, but doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. A year later, Bruce finds the identity of his parents’ killer.

They don’t see the signs. They dont think back on the oddness of these two people because how could they? They don’t know what to look for.

But Billy and Mary know. And they know why. Secrets and lies kept their family apart. It led to CC and Marilyn dying far away from each other. It led to Mary getting amnesia and knowing she had a family, but never knowing how to find them, or if they were even real. It led to Billy living the way he did and suffering through it all.

CC and Marilyn don’t want that to happen to anyone else, so that’s what they do. Places where mysteries aren’t solved and the dead can’t rest until something has been uncovered. They take it upon themselves to make that known, and they trust their children to recognize the signs. It took so long for Clark to find Kara and Bruce to find Joe Chill because they didn’t know.

The Justice League is more than curious about why Billy and Mary always manage to look past all the signs and think there’s something they’re missing. Billy being Billy, he keeps his mouth shut. The twins have never spoken about their parents out loud, afraid they might disappear if they do.

At some point, Batman being Batman, he puts the pieces together. Finds coincidences, the fact that the man in the trenchcoat always comes when a thievery involves magic(CC’s father found the Scorpion trinket, and like his dad, he sees protecting these objects like his responsibility).

Bruce makes the mistake of running at him. Of capturing his hand. Of not letting go.

And he sees it all. The pain of a man’s body being buried beneath soil and earth. Far away from his wife. Not knowing if she’s okay. Scared for his daughter’s life. Praying to every god there is that Billy is safe with his uncle.

The pain is excruciating. He knows he’s dying. He wants so desperately to feel his family in his arms, but they’re all so far away.

There are faces. A kind, lovely woman. A boy. A girl. The woman is on the ground and covered in her own blood. The girl is drugged and kicking and screaming in the backseat of a truck. A boy is kicking and screaming in the backseat of a police car. They are both kicking and screaming and you can hear them and you can’t help.

There’s the feeling where you’re trapped underground. You’re screaming. Your holding in your fear. You’re crying. There’s blood in your mouth. You don’t know where she is is she okay? Are they okay—

Bruce pulls back and his lungs fill with air. The man is gone. He’s never felt so shaken. And he lives in Gotham.

But he recognizes the boy’s face. The face of his coworker.

The next day, Billy passed by him after a meeting.

“You never touch them. That’s the rule.”

I guess I just wanted to dip my toes into the more darker aspect of Captain Marvel. Magic itself has a darker side anyway, so this kinda lines up in my opinion.

[travalerray]

please tell me about your chengxian timetravel au

[The Grandmaster of Accidental Time Travel]

Omg, thank you for the ask!!

Okay so. Basically, the AU starts from Jin Guangyao's stab being very fatal and Jiang Cheng dying and returning to when he was ten years old.

Most of his concentration is focused on a) stopping Wei Wuxian b) stopping Wei Wuxian c) stopping Wei Wuxian— you get the idea. Except we all have read the novel and know that Wei Wuxian is real bad at listening to Jiang Cheng. Or anyone really.

So shenanigans follow. Except due to certain things (Jiang Cheng's knowledge of future events, things getting shifted by a little bit, a shift in attitude and a certain case of fever etc etc), things keep getting shifted. Lan Qiren is called to Qinghe earlier, they discover the skeleton of Qingfeng-jun's teacher, fight the Waterborne Abyss muuuuch earlier and somehow also manage to prevent Wei Wuxian from getting sent back to Yunmeng. How? Well, Jiang Cheng kinda gets in the middle of the fight, because he is trying. A little. To avoid. Jin Zixuan fucking dying. And he may or may not have gotten a horrible reaction from the fight. The reaction also may or may not have been exaggerated due to certain reasons.

The engagement is still dissolved. by a letter. All hail the greatest father of all time, Jiang Fengmian.

Now, in the background what did happen is. Lan Wangji manages to develop an unfortunate one sided crush on Jiang Cheng. Lan Xichen thinks it's hilarious and pairs them up for a night hunt. It goes horribly, important things are revealed and Wei Wuxian finally gets to the gay station without reading the name of the station. Everyone suffers.

the real reason for the time travel is a fuzzy thing I have in mind which involves taking a certain element from 2ha (Three Forbidden Techniques) and fusing it with the ghost path invented by Wei Wuxian. I am thinking more specifically that the creature ZhanCheng do encounter on their unfortunate night hunt could give a nod to the two souls residing in Jiang Cheng's body (while he keeps having strange dreams that shouldn't belong to him. Now, I personally think that the idea of some of Wei Wuxian's tendencies to be transmitted onto Jiang Cheng via golden core exchange fucks heavily but like. What if they literally ate each other. What if I didn't know where I began and you ended. What if separating you from me would kill me. What if you doomed us both. What if—) which would fuck him over more. I mean, there's still Wen Qing left who is also trying to change the past to save her side of people, but that would involve another fiasco. Anyways

Jiang Cheng being an actually good sect leader trying to convince his father (who reportedly is like That™) that a war is coming is going to be horrendous. On top of which, Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Yanli are 100% convinced that the fever knocked Jiang Cheng silly in the head and made him worse with auditory problems, while Jiang Cheng is going, "I am acting like a normal 16 year old. Which is totally a normal and possible thing to want to achieve". Wei Wuxian himself isn't normal but even he thinks Jiang Cheng's habits are a little insane at times. Like. Diving into the lake for five hours at a time (tfw you used to cry in the lake while helping people dig out your family relics but can't tell your still alive family that lest they bring every single doctor in the jianghu to Lotus Pier AGAIN). Or other such things. I do think he might be able to convince Yu Ziyuan faster than Jiang Fengmian if he tried hard enough. But that's after the Qishan Wen Conference and after he finally says fuck it and invents evidence to get Yunmeng Jiang moving and contemplates the best way to alert the Gusu Lan Sect about the burning.

Since this is a slowburn, Chengxian do not kiss properly until like the end of the war preparations (before which Jiang Cheng strangles Meng Yao, panics, runs off, has a breakdown, swallows a whole vat of soup, cries and curses random things). Since this is also a slowburn the POV shifting is funny because it is:

JC: A war is coming. I need to make sure people do not die and Wei Wuxian does not give me a golden core and become a demonic cultivator. That's all I want, really, the fact that he's probably going to end up with some other guy is definitely not heartbreaking—

WWX: *trying hard to be normal* Shidi looks hot when talking about array formations. Did talking to Zewu-jun turn me into a cutsleeve.

anyways.

Since Jiang Cheng had managed to gain the trust of Gusu Lan Sect, the Cloud Recesses is mostly saved, which means Qingfeng-jun leads the war effort this time. Which means that the time travel plot which actually had been resting on the back burner kicks up since his backstory is very much connected to the whole schtick going on. Which also means that we get to see Yu Ziyuan yelling people's ears off as per usual, but this time it's not Wei Wuxian.

I do think about the reveal though. since in the original world, Wei Wuxian is dead for the second time and has given up his soul in trying to bring Jiang Cheng back. When Jiang Cheng figures out the whole situation, things are going to Not Go Well. Because that's exactly what he had been trying to prevent! Why can't they ever be happy without one of them being dead like that! What do you mean happiness can't be found without being writ in blood!

.......Wei Wuxian is going to have a stroke learning this.

[hello-galad]

No one asked for this but here i am shoving my Cid age-related headcanons down y’all’s throat.

This all started because I saw @renegadeem ‘s comment on a post about Valenwind and Cid’s age and the Curious Case of Square Enix Not Giving Us Characters That Are Canonically Over 40 (then you take a look at some of them and you know in your heart they are 62, twice divorced and currently screaming at some kids to get off their lawn).

Alright, buckle up. I’m about to monologue, ladies, gents, non-binary peeps and everybody else in between:

Note: Have in mind I headcanon Shera to be two years younger than Cid and to have also been part of the Shinra Youth Science Program but at different years. Note note: this might change in the future because I’m like a sponge and i absorb hcs.

At 16 years-old Cid Highwind Gets into the Shinra Youth Science Program at Midgar.

I’m sure Shinra has programs like these to catch brilliant minds that help them build their empires (labor force that already know how to do the job you want them to) like most transnational companies do in our world.

There, all students must take military training, they even share some classes with the Cadets for SOLDIER.

On a side note, given his stats in the game and his weapon of choice I say he comes from a family of dragoons and Heidegger takes an interest in him but Cid is focused on becoming an engineer and that is more useful to Shinra.

There is a fic i really love that sorta touches the topic of Cid’s family as dragoons by one of my favorite authors Vinvalen right here (Valenwind: Crusader rain) .

At 20 years-old Cid graduates top of his class as Mechanical engineer. He starts working on building aircraft and flight hardware for Shinra as he starts his career to become an Aerospace Engineer.

At 24 years-old he graduates top of his class as Aerospace Engineer at Shinra.

At 26 years-old Cid gets his pilot’s license with more than 500 hours of flight. Starts the prototype for what he started calling THE SHINRA I. He would later develop the blueprints further to build what will be THE HIGHWIND.

At 28 years of age Cid and Shera present the initiative for the Space Program to Shinra with the initial project and blueprints for a rocket and satellite. The Satellite should have been deployed first and left to circle around The Planet in the upper orbit a year before the rocket launch.

Shinra approves of the project eight months later and Cid Highwind becomes Chief Engineer of it with Shera as Chief scientist and his second in command. The base is settled in a small town outside Midgard that will later be known as Rocket Town.

At 32 years old, Shera (30) and Cid get married. They never really dated, but they spent so much time together that they both decided “why not?”.

Evidently, that goes downhill from there because tHAT IS NOT HOW HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS ARE BUILT.

When Cid is 33 years old, the first satellite gets deployed earlier. The mission is a complete success and Shinra has plans to put a couple more in orbit except instead of using them for research, Scarlet and Heidegger wish to weaponize them with Mako Canons. Cid is against this at first but understands that he can’t really say no to Shinra when they are the ones funding the Space Program.

Him and Shera don’t really talk to each other outside of work, they do fuck occasionally to let out steam but that keeps happening less and less.

When Cid is 36 years old Shera almost dies and Cid stops the launch to save her.

Cid is downgraded from Chief engineer and one year later, Shinra cancels the Space Program taking away every single blueprint and infrastructure project Cid ever created when working for Shinra and they basically try to alienate him when Cid tries to fight back. Shera keeps working for them in charge of space communications. Cid is devastated.

As a side project, Cid starts the blueprint and building of the BRONCO I (Later known as the Tiny Bronco. Later known as a) the plane Cloud almost broke and b) The “ARE WE SERIOUSLY USING MY FUCKIN PLANE AS A BOAT DAMMIT FINE WHATEVER IT TAKES TO FUCK SHINRA OVER”).

When Cid is 37 years old, him and Shera get divorced, the divorce documentation was initiated by Shera. Despite the fact that they haven’t even slept together in the same room in literal years, Cid was willing to live unhappily for her sake. She decides to stop that, but her mental health is still not the best and she has developed an attachment to him so she stays in Rocket Town “Taking care of him” as Cid goes in what Shera is afraid is a sort of self-destructive path.

Cid works on personal projects, flying people and cargo across The Planet and fixing and building things for other people. Shinra sends a Turk sometimes to spy on what he’s doing to make sure that whatever he’s building isn’t something that goes against Shinra. After all, they know he’s capable of building a ship with the right tools and Cid is quite crafty.

At 38 years old Cid is angry at Shinra, Shera, the planet, everyone really, and specially himself. He loathes Rocket Town but can’t bring himself to actually leave. He thinks he has to deal with what he thinks was the failure of his lifetime (“To atone for his sins” in a way *cough cough*). He starts flying people around and killing the Mako infected beasts that attack Rocket Town occasionally. He’s kept himself in shape all this time because habits are hard to break and he’s mildly paranoid of Turks (with good reason) and other shit he knows Shinra has been developing.

In the year he reaches 39 years of age he meets a group of eco-terrorist weirdos that seem to travel with the daughter of Ilfana, a scientist he once had the hots for back at Shinra.

Said group is made of a rogue traumatized SOLDIER, a girl who could kick his ass with her fists, Ilfana’s daughter who is actually a part of a now extinct ancient human race, what appears to be a talking lion, a robot cat that rides a mog, a teenage ninja girl that gets a kick out of calling him old, a mother hen in the shape of a very ripped man with a gun for an arm and a gunslinger vampire.

Then Cid Highwind goes to space, Vincent is next to him on the Rocket, Shera is Chief Mission Control working along with his old team who also decided to say “fuck you” to Shinra and have taken over a building. This is the start of a new chapter for him, finally.

By this point Cid had been telling himself he is not in love with Vincent for almost a year, you know, like a liar. He has never loved anyone like he loves Vincent. He used to love Shera, of course, but not like this. He still cares for her, but when he married Shera they were both 30 and it seemed like the right next thing they had to do. He never bothered to learn about Shera’s favorite books outside the ones related to their work or which desserts would make her close her eyes in delight. They would fuck when they were horny and sleep on the same bed but never did Cid whispered bad poetry against her collarbone and slept better when he could feel her hair against his shoulder.

When Sephiroth is defeated, Meteor is stopped by Holy and everyone goes home for a while to rest, him and Vincent talk and Vincent knows that he wants to stay with Cid but he is still so scared. Years of torture and trauma are slow to heal, sometimes they don’t heal ever, and Cid is okay with that. Whatever Vincent needs, Cid will give him. Vincent loves Cid so much he is willing to try.

Shera and Cid talk and she stays at the house for one more year before she finally decides to go over everything that happened and starts living her own life for herself.

When Cid is 41 years of age, him and Shera create HIGHWIND Corp as co-owners with Shera as CEO and Cid as Chief engineer. They work alongside the WRO to rebuilt the planet using sustainable energy and building sustainable hardware and software. Cid knows Shinra is involved, with Rufus re-building Shinra with an eco-perspective now. This time though, HIGHWIND Corp is negotiating through the WRO and Cid and Shera are not afraid to say “fuck you, no”.

Vincent comes and goes from Rocket Town. Cid buys some land almost in the middle of nowhere and stablishes his house, hangar and workshop there, Vincent follows. He has his own room at the house even if Cid and him sleep in the same bed most of the time and Vincent spends a lot of time perched somewhere on a crate looming over Cid at the workshop, usually reading and listening to Cid work.

Yuffie is also a common guest and she has her own room there as well.

Vincent receives a call from Reeve, there’s been a couple of disappearances and an organization that calls itself “the underground” seem to be responsible. Cid flies Vincent around on his mission to destroy the underground and happily blows some shit up.

After literal decades, Vincent finally faces the fact that he was a victim, that Lucretia was just as guilty as Hojo. He discovers what happened to Grimoire, visits his mother’s grave and is finally on the path to believing that he was not responsible for the awful things done to him.

Turns out that Vincent’s past demons are worst than his actual very real demons. He gets into common ground with them and they recognize him not only as their host but as their link to the Planet and are willing to fight for him.

Chaos decides to go against their nature as a demigod of death and destruction and they defeat Omega.

Chaos doesn’t go back to the planet, he stays with Vincent, although their relationship changes from “I was trapped inside in this vessel against my will and I’m angry” to “you are my host and we take care of the host, thank you for being our link to The Planet”.

The others agree. Vincent receives them not because he has to, but because he wants to.

[Vincent goes to Lucretia’s cave after that and he tells her about what he found in her and Hojo’s archives, tells her that he’s sorry he couldn’t protect her and that he knows and remembers what she did to him. For the first time he is not seeing her as perfect, just as she was: a scientist who wanted results, a human who was moved by the power of knowledge, imperfect, responsible for some of the scars on his body and his mind. She was not responsible for the perfect imagine of her he made up in his head. For his own unresolved trauma that lead him to believe he had to love her and she could have loved him.

Vincent tells her that Grimoire’s death was not her fault. He tells her what he knows now of Chaos, how they are more than just a creature, more than just rare materia.

Then, Vincent tells Lucretia about Cid. About how he loves him and the way he loudly snores. About how Cid loves going star-watching. About how he’s been painting, The Planet and Vincent being his favorite subjects.

Vincent tells her about how he was so scared of falling in love again but then in those moments after defeating Omega and realizing he might die for real this time, he was more scared of Cid not knowing he loved him.

He tells her about how, when he fell to the ground, Chaos in distress inside of him, Vincent too tired, too many bones broken and internal bleeding to move, the realization that he was not healing settling in; he thought about his life, about his parents and Veld, about his new friends and Aerith, who he knew was watching over them from the livestream, about the letter Tifa would carry with her everywhere, the beautiful strokes of Aerith’s handwriting unmistakeable, even when a couple of years ago, tears had soaked the paper. About Cloud crying every night after he managed to remember who he was before he was experimented on by Hojo, about him carefully cradling the dog tags Tseng gave him after Meteor was gone, the same name on them that Cloud used to whisper on those long nights when he thought everyone in the party was already asleep: “Zack”.

He thought about Sephiroth believing Jenova was his mother instead of knowing of Lucretia, of having his own father treat him like an experiment. He thought of that young SOLDIER, Genesis, half broken and willing to sleep forever, just like Vincent once did, until he was reminded there’s more to live for.

He thought of Marlene and a distressed Barret wondering if his daughter was still alive, of Nanaki, still young and a guardian now. He thought of Shera and her husband and how their daughter liked frogs and helping Uncle Cid build rockets made of cardboard.

Thought of her, Lucretia, and how Vincent’s love for her sprouted out of a promise to Grimoire to keep her safe before he disappeared mixed with the guilt that he couldn’t keep his promise. Thought of dumbapple pie from the dumbapple tree that randomly started growing in Cid’s land, about spring and Cid and Vincent building their garden.

He thought about home.

Finally in what would become the moment Vincent begins to let go he thanks her, forgives her. Then, the Planet finally lets Lucretia go, the cristal she was trapped in atoning for her own sins breaks and she finally joins the Lifestream. ]

When Cid turns 43 years old, AVALANCHE celebrates at the Seventh Heaven, there are old and new faces alike, almost all of them familiar. Shera and her husband and kid are there along with an older man with a scar on his face that Vincent calls “partner”. The Turks had the nerve to turn up but Cid stops giving them the evil eye when Tseng walks straight to Vincent’s “Partner”, eyes red and upper lip trembling and hugs him. All this in seconds before the Turk is back to his serene almost stoic face.

Rufus Shinra sends a present with them, of fucking course. Reeve takes it from Cid’s hands before he rips it apart. Funnily enough, its a bottle of his favorite whiskey and an actual damn letter reading “My gift to you is not having to see my face for the whole day, you are welcome. No, the whiskey is not poisoned. Stop being so paranoid Captain Highwind” in it. “Yah, I’ll stop being paranoid of damn Shinra when that fuckin’ brat stops wearin’ suits with more belts than the ones that’re supposed to keep yer pants up and yer gun in place, dammit!”

When Cid is 50 years of age, him and Vincent attend Yuffie’s wedding (they are like her parents. She didnt imprint on them, they imprinted on her. Vincent still calls her to reminds her to eat enough vegetables every week even when she’s over 30, Cid still calls her ‘mah kid’).

Vincent wears a suit, Cerberus rests in its holster on his right thigh and if he appears behind Cid with an actual shovel, eyes glowing Mako red and Chaos golden as Cid’s having a “friendly talk” with the groom…thats between him, Cid and the poor bastard. Cid wears his Captain uniform. Both look hot as hell. Both rail each other after the reception. Life is good.

(Check out @mamoru-chiba-ua ‘s art for the reference of Cid and Vincent at Yuffie’s wedding)

[crossdressingdeath]

After reading that bit during the Tartarus flashback where (in classic Riordanverse fashion) they forgot the timeline and had Nico thinking about Jason as a close friend even though canonically they were only vaguely acquainted at that point I've been thinking... why weren't they friends before Nico's first trip to Tartarus?

I mean, both of them have very good reason to want to be on the other's good side: as praetor Jason would logically want to be on good terms with the direct ambassador of a god, and Nico would logically want to be on good terms with the leaders of the group he's lowkey spying on. And we know from canon that once they start actually interacting they get on super well! And it would help explain why Nico could just show up at camp with Hazel like "Hey so this is my sister don't mind how she has no records and acts like she's from the '30s she's one of you now 'kay bye" and that was just accepted if he was close to the praetors instead of canon's impression of him being vaguely tolerated in New Rome at most and only respected at all because fucking with Pluto's ambassador would be... unwise. It would just in general make more sense for them to be at least friendly acquaintances, and given Nico's canon relationships with both Jason and Reyna "friendly acquaintances" would absolutely quickly transition into full friendship.

And honestly Jason and Nico being friends pre-TLH would make the bit in MoA where the Seven argue about whether or not Nico can be trusted so much more interesting and so much less infuriating. As it is in canon it just feels super unfair, because the only evidence any of them give for him being untrustworthy is "Well he knew about both camps" when all the gods and Chiron and Lupa also knew about both camps and also said nothing despite them being at a much lower risk of being smote for blabbing than Nico would be, and it's confirmed that Chiron at least swore to keep the secret and there's no evidence that Nico didn't. The only character who actually has the right to feel at all betrayed on a personal level is Hazel, and she doesn't because she loves and trusts her brother and also seems to grasp that the secret wasn't actually Nico's to share; even with Percy (and Annabeth, although unless I'm forgetting something she never really comments on it), Nico's never actually willingly confided in him even about minor things so I don't see why he's getting so butthurt about Nico not telling him one of the biggest known secrets of the modern age that the gods have. Percy and Nico aren't actually friends, they're friendly acquaintances at best, I don't see why Percy gets so pissy that Nico didn't break what is clearly a pretty major rule (given even the gods follow it without any fuss until it becomes obvious that the secret's going to come out anyway) for him. But if Nico and Jason were friends that would open up a much more interesting angle for the argument than just "How dare he keep this secret that literally everyone else who knew about it has kept for over a century"! "I thought he was my friend and he was lying to me about who he was the whole time" is a much more understandable and interesting reason to question someone than just him not telling everyone something that he wasn't even supposed to know! Hazel knew that there was something up with Nico from the start and Percy and Annabeth at least knew he was a son of Hades rather than Pluto (and again were not his friends and so shouldn't have expected him to confide in them anyway), but if Nico had actual friends in Camp Jupiter who really did think he was an ambassador from Pluto they would have every right to feel at least a little betrayed and question what else he might have been hiding from them. Jason absolutely wanting to save Nico but also feeling betrayed that his close friend had been lying about who he was the entire time they'd known each other would be much stronger and more compelling than canon's "He did this thing that basically every immortal we're on speaking terms with also did but he is uniquely untrustworthy because of it".

Also it would open up some fun possibilities for scenes. For example, I love the idea of one of the Greek cast mentioning Nico after Jason regains his memories and Jason just going "Wait you mean Nico like our Nico?" and everyone else going "What do you mean your Nico?" It would also give Nico friends and a place where he felt reasonably welcome, which would be nice and could've been used as evidence for the "You pushed away people who wanted to be your friend" angle Rick went with from BoO onwards, since him having people who cared about him (who he initially was friendly with primarily because he kind of had to be, which would justify what made Jason and Reyna different from everyone else he interacts with) would show that yeah, Nico had proof people wanted to be around him which he very much does not in canon. Plus it would be an opportunity to get into what Nico was thinking and feeling re knowing this huge secret that he couldn't tell anyone and having to keep it from people he cared about and didn't want to lie to (side note, I am now wondering if Rick didn't go into that because there was really no way to interrogate a traumatized fourteen year old in terms of "Why didn't you share this huge secret that not even the gods breathed a word of in over a century" that would make the interrogators look good and none of the Seven show any interest in the matter outside of those terms).

...Also. y'know. a Jasico fic featuring them dating prior to TLH and Hera wiping Jason's memories of having a boyfriend and still giving Piper and Leo false memories of Piper and Jason dating would both be very fun and angsty as a concept and would play very nicely into the themes of comphet in Jason and Piper's relationship. And would fit the way Hera very openly thinks that Nico isn't part of "her family" in BotL! So there's that also.

[archaeren]

just an informal list of reasons to love Tanakamigi Chui

this is not my full essay but it's a quick list of reasons off the top of my head from someone who asked me on reddit

canonically the most “honest and straightforward” character in the game (Neji’s words, and they do hold true) I can’t stand being lied to, even about small things, and I don’t want Kisa to be lied to either. Chui does never and will never lie to her. He’ll straight up tell Kisa things that he’s definitely supposed to be keeping secret. He’s so honest, it’s actively uncomfortable for other people. He’s not trying to be mean, he’s not trying to be ‘brutally honest’, he’s just awkwardly honest and it’s cute and good and I love him for it. Man who doesn’t lie? So hot.

this is a man who will admit when he’s wrong. UNPROMPTED. do you all realize how rare this actually is? Nobody is expecting him to do this. It doesn't benefit him to do it. He just does it because he thinks it's the right thing to do. I feel like everybody expects him to be such a huge egotistical douche (especially after his little speech about how he feels nothing from Quartz's performances--and then it turns out that wasn't him being a dick, he apparently just sincerely feels that way) and then he will repeatedly UNPROMPTED come up to the members of Quartz to be like, “hey so I was wrong about x thing and I really learned a lot from watching you guys” and honestly this is so rare and not a thing guys tend to do in real life that this alone was enough to capture my heart. Seriously, first time I saw his reaction after the fall performance, I was like, "oh no it's over for me" A man who admits when he’s wrong!! Oh my god, he and Kisa would have such a healthy relationship between that and the not-lying thing. No mind games from this guy. Fuckin love to see it.

comes out swinging when it comes to defending Kisa There aren’t many scenes in the game where we have the opportunity to see how he reacts when he feels like Kisa is being insulted because it just doesn’t happen in front of him that often, but WHEN IT DOES oh man, he employs a few well-chosen words of COMPLETE AND UTTER OBLITERATION. You ain’t gonna insult the transparent vessel like that in front of Tanakamigi Chui, hell no! Even when it’s only that he feels like Amber’s win against Quartz wasn’t justified (try getting second place in the fall performance sometime lol, it's EXTREMELY worth it imo), he completely eviscerates his underclassmen over it. That's how you know he really cares about making sure the record is kept straight, because apparently there are only two things that matter to Tanakamigi Chui: Art, and Truth.

drinks his respect Kisa juice (post-winter play spoilers) it’s a consistent behavior for him across routes that he pursues Kisa pretty doggedly and seems like he won’t take ‘no’ for an answer—until you realize that he’ll only take Kisa’s ‘no’ for an answer. Anyone else tells him to back off, he’ll be like, “mmm nah, you don’t know what you’re talking about” but the moment Kisa tells him no or that he sees evidence that she’s not interested, he immediately backs off. He also continues to show respect for her after this, as a performer and rival, his respect is not conditional on her potential as a stage partner. (He also knows her secret after a certain point, but instead of using it against her to strong-arm her into getting his way like you might expect an antagonist to do, he’s basically like, “wow you really risked it all for the stage, that’s SO FUCKING BADASS and exactly what I’m looking for in a stage partner, please team up with me”) It’s really telling that his way of asking her to be his partner is always to offer her his hand, which is a recurring theme with them.

Chui and Kisa are straight-up soulmate-coded (Kisa route spoilers) this might be unintentional, but for some reason the game REALLY goes out of its way to drive home the point that they’re the only true equals for each other, that they’re the only ones who can fully bring out each other’s talent, that they’re so talent-compatible that it’s a little spooky, that Chui is desperately lonely without Kisa, that they can sense each other’s presence, that they’re both willing to give everything for the stage, and that they’re both hiding who they really are. (Chui is, in fact, the only one at Univeil who could actually personally understand Kisa's dilemma of hiding her identity to prevent expulsion--he's in a similar position for political reasons.) How else are we supposed to interpret all of that except that they’re meant to be together? (So why CAN’T they be??)

Chui would do more for Kisa than Chuza will (Kisa route spoilers) This is getting very much into Kisa route spoiler territory but Chui directly states that he doesn’t give a damn about Kisa’s gender, he just wants to perform with her. We can extrapolate from his behavior in Fumi’s route that he’s willing to go pretty far to ensure that can happen. In the power struggle between Chui and Chuza, I think it’s safe to assume that Chui would actually be WAY more ready to embrace relaxing the boys-only rule than Chuza is, just because all Chui actually cares about is getting the best talent, not in traditions or playing power games. Honestly I haven't the fainest idea why the game thinks we should support Chuza over Chui, and that's not even my Chui bias talking--in my experience, that's a pretty common sentiment in the fandom. XD

lbr, he’s damn fine that VOICE. those HANDS. his huge pretty eyes and long eyelashes. he’s so TALL and BENDY and AWKWARD and a DORK and I love it. he’s so GREY and his haircut is so STUPID and I just want to allow him to snuggle a soft pink creature (aka Kisa)

ahem. anyway.

[midnightstargazer]

why I, as a Regulus stan, don't ship Jegulus

With the disclaimer upfront that I'm not saying nobody should. I know I have mutuals who do. Y'all are cool. We can ship and let ship. But I don't ship them, and here's why.

I don't care for how Regulus is usually characterized in the context of Jegulus. I prefer him redeemable, but morally gray; someone who was influenced by family and peer pressure but ultimately made his own bad choices and later changed his mind, not someone who was forced into every bad thing he ever did. I'm sure there are Jegulus fics out there where he is more morally gray. But from what I've seen, he's often a bit too sanitized for my taste.

I don't care for how James is usually characterized, either. Sunshine boy who wants to believe the best of everyone? I don't see it. In canon he's very loyal and caring towards his friends, but there's no evidence he would have a nuanced point of view towards someone like Regulus, particularly during their late teenage years when Regulus is actively espousing blood supremacist ideology and working for the Death Eaters.

(Which doesn't mean I think Regulus is unworthy of love. I just don't think it's likely James, specifically, would have liked him very much during the time period when they would have known each other in canon)

Because of this, I can only imagine Jegulus in a context very far removed from canon: either a Muggle AU, a no Voldemort AU, an AU where Regulus runs away with Sirius, etc. None of those are very interesting to me. It could also work if Regulus survives and ends up in the Order, which is a favorite trope of mine, but I'd just as soon see that with a different ship or no ship for Regulus and keep Jily together.

I ship Jily. Which isn't necessarily an obstacle, because I'm willing to multi-ship basically anybody except Tedromeda. I can totally get on board with the idea that one or both of them had another relationship before they got together, or that in a canon divergence story where one of them survives, they might eventually move on with someone else. But because I do ship Jily, I'm not really looking for someone else to ship with James.

Who Regulus ends up with romantically, if anybody, is the least interesting thing about him imo. I'll read fics where he's paired up romantically, and I've written a few of them - although I also have a long ongoing series where he's aro-ace. Having a romance arc for Regulus at all is 100% optional as far as I'm concerned.

The "best friend's brother" thing - I think it mischaracterizes Sirius's relationships with both of them to assume he would be overprotective of Regulus and suspicious of James if they were to get together. I love fics where the Black brothers reconcile, but still, I doubt they'd ever have such a stereotypically normal sibling relationship. And that's not even getting started on how it undermines Sirius's friendship with James.

Its sheer overwhelming popularity annoys me. No offense intended to anyone who likes it. Your personal preference is valid. It's the expectation for everyone to share that preference that I don't love. A lot of the time in the Marauders fandom the pairing is simply taken for granted as the default. So that does make me dig my heels in a bit.

[felixcloud6288]

Fullmetal Alchemist: Wrath

Over the course of my reread, I've spoken a fair deal about my thoughts on Wrath and I never got all my thoughts out on him.

When I began this series, I didn't think I'd become so invested in him. In fact, I had no opinions on Wrath until I started taking an analytical approach to this series.

My basic thesis is Wrath is nihilistic. He does not believe in ideals, beliefs, gods, emotions, or even his own purpose.

Back when he was a regular human, he was simply Presidential Candidate #12. He and the other candidates were trained in all matters related to physical prowess, military knowledge, etc. all to build the perfect leader.

Perhaps at the time, he thought the President would be whoever was deemed the most exemplar of them all. The crown would go to the hardest worker and the best suited for the role.

But when the next phase of the program began, it wasn't skill or knowledge that made him the chosen candidate; it was luck. He just so happened to be the first candidate to survive being injected with a Stone. If he hadn't, his body would have been thrown away like the 11 candidates before him. And if one of them had become Wrath, he would have lived the rest of his life as a mindless soldier serving the Doctor.

The process of becoming Wrath depleted his Stone to the point there is only a single soul within it. I would argue that soul is #12's original soul. Greed doesn't have any of Lin's memories but Wrath has memories from before he became Wrath. And the body and soul are bound by the spirit. When the link is severed, the body dies. We know the soul can be forcibly extracted and stored as a Stone even after the body is destroyed, but there's no evidence suggesting the body can exist in a living state without the soul.

So Wrath's body still working leads me to believe that his soul still exists. Maybe we could argue that some other soul is using #12's body, but they should ultimately reject each other. Barry's body was rotting because of the animal soul placed into it. Why wouldn't #12's body start to fall apart after decades with some other soul.

When Greed's Stone was put into Lin Yao, Lin accepted Greed and the two ultimately became symbiotic due to their shared avarice and insatiable desires.

What if #12 happened to have a similar relation to whatever essence made up Wrath? What if at the moment Wrath was inserted into him, #12 was filled with so much anger and hatred for what he's gone through that he and Wrath ultimately came to an agreement with each other? #12 got to keep his body and Wrath's powers, but Wrath's essence would influence him for the rest of his life.

Somewhere in his life, he concluded that nothing has any meaning and ideals are pointless. Maybe it's just an aspect of Father's wrath. Maybe he came to that conclusion after spending his life following Father's designs. Wrath gained power, fame, and success and it ultimately means nothing to him because he never earned it. It was all given to him as part of Father's plans. And it only went to him because he was lucky enough to become Wrath.

Wrath does not believe in god. He called god a human invention, a fantasy for the weak-minded, and an idol created by those too weak to take responsibility for their own fates. That last one is a bit hypocritical since Wrath has never taken responsibility for his own fate. He lives his life according to to the will and purpose handed to him, much like how a religious zealot might claim their actions are the will of god.

Father's goal is to seal god within himself, thus freeing himself from god's rule and becoming a perfect being. Father ultimately treats god as the cause to all his problems, meaning he treats god the same way Wrath described.

It would not surprise me if Wrath despises Father and has nothing but contempt for him. Wrath's fate is shackled to Father's purposes. He can never escape them, and he exists only to achieve some goal that he likely doesn't care about. He is not afraid of divine retribution for what they're doing. He only fears the retaliation of humans.

And Wrath is a perfect foil for Greed. Wrath has everything and values nothing. greed has nothing but values everything. Greed abandoned the other Homunculi because he found no satisfaction with them and refused to be bound by Father's will. I truly believe that Wrath feels the same way, but he's ultimately too jaded to even consider the idea of rebellion.

Father melted Greed in molten metal to extract his stone. He gave a toast to his loyal children and to the Promised Day. But that entire ritual has a second purpose. It warns the rest of the Homunculi the consequences of rebellion. If Wrath had any thoughts of rebellion and making a life for himself, Greed's death would have erased those thoughts. He would just be disposed of like the pawn he is.

After Greed's punishment, Wrath walked home with a furious look to his face, only for it to dispel when his wife and son greeted him. He understands he can never escape his fate to serve Father's purpose, so he would take comfort in times where he could just be with his human family. In particular, he enjoyed being with his wife whom he got to choose for himself.

He hates his purpose and feels he cannot escape it. Maybe he enjoyed seeing Roy and his allies disrupt Father's plans because it gave him some sense of comfort. Everything in his life had been planned out, so it was exciting to experience problems.

In particular, he took an interest in Roy Mustang. From the moment he saw Roy kill Lust, he realized Roy had the qualities to be an ideal sacrifice. And Wrath spent much effort to shackle Roy in place and keep him from further interfering with Father's plans. But no matter what he did, Roy refused to submit to their plans. Even to the very end, when Riza Hawkeye was bleeding to death, Roy refused to be Father's puppet.

Despite his words, Wrath smiled at seeing Roy's defiance. Maybe he admired Roy for having the determination to take control and responsibility for his fate. It's something Wrath never had.

In the end, the closest he ever came to taking control of his own life was when he chose to fight Scar to the death rather than pursue Hawkeye's team. He reveled in having a fight where no ideals, beliefs, or ego was involved; but when he lost, he remarked that the heavens had forsaken him. So at the last moment, he still never took responsibility for his fate.

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 9: Character growth

Säure really is beginning to seem like everyone’s boogeyman. Like, his involvement doesn’t seem like it’s just some educated guess on Chapman’s part nor my own suspicion, but something everyone I know is taking for granted.

It makes me want to find him to see if I can confirm it.

People compare billionaires to dragons all the time, pointing out how they hoard wealth needlessly and to the detriment of the land around them. But so far, hoarding really hasn’t been a big part of my life. Now that I know that my personal belongings are safe in Nathan’s garage for the time being, I feel safe about them and capable of focusing on other things.

If anything, I might be hoarding social connections now. I’m certainly becoming emotionally attached to everyone I talk to. It’s different with humans than it is with dragons, but it’s still an emotional attachment all the same.

I don’t know how the other dragons are doing in regards to hoarding. It just keeps not coming up. We have more important things to talk about, like Säure’s company, Equisetum Wildlife, and Joel and I having been kidnapped.

Still, we spent six hours talking in the arboretum. Six dragons for six hours, just to air our feelings and suspicions about other dragons who might be allied with Säure, and no concrete evidence that it’s happening.

Except Joel.

When I pointed this discrepancy in proof out, Joel yawped and stepped forward, confirming my suspicions about the night of my interview with the Mayor.

Joel had been recruited and then betrayed.

Six hours, and even though we had articulate and well spoken Wentin there, and Astraia and Tannis who weren’t so far behind, we hadn’t gotten anything more concrete than that, unfortunately.

Watching Ian talk for Brenna had been fascinating. He’d even affected a somewhat feminine voice, and her body language seemed to match what he was saying. It was the best act of faking telepathy I can imagine, and at this point I’m sure it wasn’t actually faked.

But we all ended up calling it off, frustrated, slightly suspicious of each other, and agreeing to be careful and to meet again when one of us had something verifiable.

And then I had gone back home to my roof thinking that maybe I had been invited there to stop a five way fight.

I spent the evening growling and trying to talk to myself, pacing my roof. And then went to sleep as it got dark. I barely even noticed the clouds rolling in.

Then my mind had the audacity to continue that whole “discussion” as a dream. Every time I went back to sleep.

So, I’m lying here on my roof a couple hours after Morning Roll Call, extremely grumpy about all that, thinking it might be extremely nice to just stay up here and ignore my tablet all day, and just take the entire Sunday to myself.

The coffee shop is closed, afterall. And Queen Meg needs her fucking alone time. She needs to think. Or stop thinking.

I get up and stretch again.

I’ve found myself stretching more often this morning, as something feels tight. And I think that last night I was rolling around in my sleep. I’d slept longer than usual, but I feel way more worn out than any other morning.

Grumpy, tired, and restless.

A good rock to lean against sounds awfully nice right now, and I find I’m jealous of Joel and his stretch of shoreline.

And there’s an itch, right in the nape of my neck where I can’t bite at it. But fortunately, my wing claws are really good for that spot and…

I see flakes of stuff falling to the rooftop.

There’s a comic from the internet that runs through my head. A two panel affair drawn by someone named pocketss, of a dragon holding up her leg and saying, “OMG Becky feel my leg I just shed”.

And I’d laugh at myself, but I desperately need a big fucking rock. A boulder, or three.

I cast around the rooftop futilely looking for one for several laps before I realize that the brick building itself is basically just one big giant boulder. I just have to find a reasonable place to rub up against it.

The alleyway. There are no windows in there, and I’d be mostly out of everyone’s sight. And if anyone turns in there to take a shortcut or something, I can just say, “Hi.” Which I taught myself how to do last night, along with a couple other useful words I’ve needed lately.

In desperation I leap off the building and flutter down there to find myself strutting up and down the alley, rubbing myself against every open brick and stone surface available, even rolling on the pavement.

And as exhausting as it is, I spend the better part of the day doing that and not much else.

If I don’t get my regular shipment of meat tonight, a couple of seagulls are gonna die, and I might not actually feel remorseful about it this time.

Assuming I’m not preoccupied with actively shedding well into the next day.

When does this stop?

Do I get a break?

What the hell? My whole body is itching.

When I start noticing larger flakes of scale shaped hide lifting off of me here and there, I try to help them get off faster by biting them and pulling. And then I find myself eating them.

Is this like a monthly thing or something? How often am I going to have to do this?

King Gidorah’s Breath, this sucks.

But, I do get to say, “Hi,” a couple times, which is as delightful as I imagined, as distracted as I am.

Someone walks in, and I stop and look at them, and say, “Hi.”

The first person just turns around and walks right out of the alley without breaking stride or saying anything.

The other, a bit later, says, “Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry!” And backs out quickly, with hands up, looking flustered. Just like they’d walked into a bathroom to see a naked woman drying herself off after a shower. I feel weirdly affirmed by this, and briefly wonder if a cop would dare try to arrest me for indecent exposure.

It’s when this child stands there and watches me for a while without saying anything that I find I can’t do the whole, “Hi,” routine. I feel like I shouldn’t interact with them, and I just keep working at getting myself clean of dead skin.

I’m wondering to myself whether this really came on so quickly today, or if I just didn’t notice the initial signs of it for the past few days or so, when the child looks down the street briefly and then steps into the alleyway and asks, “Want some help?”

That’s when I stop and look at them, careful to use only one eye to do so.

I feel like I need to be honest, but also to turn their help down specifically, so I string together a couple of my new words with old ones in hopes it comes across that way.

“Yes. Thanks. Please. No,” I say. I wish I’d taught myself “but” now.

They blink up at me in confusion, but don’t move.

“Thanks. No,” I repeat.

“Really?” they say. “I bet I’d be good at getting the small bits you can’t see.”

And I'm about to say “no” again when it occurs to me that I really do need help with something, because it’s been getting in the way.

I pull my tablet out of my purse, lay it on the ground, turn it on, open up the app, and say, “Actually, purse, please.”

And then I sit up and compose myself to present my purse, which falls into place in front of my chest. Chapman gave me this purse, which looks flame orange to me, and was thoughtful about it. The strap has clasps holding it to the purse.

“Of course!” my new friend exclaims, and eagerly steps forward to assist, undoing the clasps and gingerly removing my purse. “My name is Molly. Want me to hold onto it for you?”

“Thanks. No,” I say. Then use the tablet to add, “Put this in purse. Take purse to coffee shop. Explain.”

“Oh! OK!” Molly agrees, and then does what I ask.

When they come back, I am already working on the spots the purse was preventing me from really getting at.

“How long does it take?” Molly asks.

I have no idea how to respond without my tablet, and I'm really busy. It feels too good to be doing this now. There’s a lot of relief in it at this point.

And I keep at it.

After a while, Molly says, “Oh. You can’t talk much without your screen. OK. Can you say your name?”

I stop enough to say, “Meg.”

“I’ll leave you alone, but I wanted to say. Um. My pronouns are she/her, because I’m a girl. Mostly,” she looks a little uncomfortable about having said this to me for some reason, and she looks a little more antsy and ready to go find her parents again. But then, just before she goes, she says, “That looks like it’s really awful, but I still wish I was like you.”

That brings me up short, and I lift my head to look at her with my left eye again. Then I lower my head down to about level with her midsection and close my eyes most of the way, by way of my usual smile.

I’m halfway down the alley and she’s at the mouth of it. I’m sure it looks like a bow to her, and it is.

Even if I had a larger vocabulary, I’m at a loss for words.

“Thank you for talking to me, Meg,” Molly says. “I have to go now. I hope your shedding feels really good when you’re done.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Goodbye.”

She brightens up, waves, and then skips down the street and out of sight. But I still see a sadness in her eye as she does that.

I get so worked up in my thoughts about Molly and who and what she might be that I forget about my shed for a while, and when Rhoda finds me in the alley I’m still staring up at the sky, my heart hurting.

Why didn’t Molly transform when I did? Was it not safe for her yet? Will there be other waves of dragons? Or was it arbitrary and a one time thing?

She didn’t really look like a girl to me until she said her name, but I didn’t want to make any assumptions even then. Ever since I’ve met Chapman and come out to myself, I’ve been working hard to be good about that.

I think Molly is around 12 years old. Maybe give or take a couple of years. It’s hard to say. Maybe she’s lucky and on hormone blockers. Maybe puberty is being kind to her. Or maybe it’s not, and I’m reading her wrong.

But I recognized that look on her face because I saw it in the mirror for the past fifty years.

And she wants to be like me.

She already is.

“Hey, Meghan,” Rhoda says, holding my purse against her with her right arm, cane steadying her in left hand. “Are you OK?”

“No,” I say. “No.”

“Want to come over to my place to talk?” she asks.

“Yes. Thanks.”

“Ooh, a new word! I like it.”

“Thanks.”

—

I still have shedding to do, but now that I’m not in the middle of it I can ignore the urge for a while. I’m probably going to be spending a lot of the night working on it, still, though.

Rhoda and I have been talking for a while, enjoying her tea. I’m not drinking it, though, because I don’t want to make a mess in her apartment. I’m just tasting the air occasionally to get a whiff of it, mixed in with the other odors and aromas of Rhoda and her home. If I aim my head right, I get mostly tea, and I do love it.

She gets fancy, loose leaf teas from a shop on the edge of my territory, and I decide I need to visit it someday. Just to stick my head in the door, lick the air, and smile at the owner. I’ll even pay for the privilege, if I can.

Anyway, mostly I’ve been filling Rhoda in on the events of the past two days, and she’s been listening and nodding, only occasionally interjecting or asking a question.

It’s such a comfortable relief to me to be able to think about what I want to say and actually say it, and not be rushed by a conversation. It still takes longer than I’d like, but I start to lose track of time and forget about it, falling into my routine of communication.

This.

This is what I want my life to be like. To be myself in a quiet place with someone who is also just there.

I do wonder a little if Rhoda is being herself, or if she’s going out of her way to accommodate me. But the few times I’ve tried to pay her back for all she does for me, or to find out how, she’s told me, “Let me worry about me. I’ll be OK.” There isn’t much good in pushing, then.

However, when I get to talking about Molly, she has a story to share, so I listen.

“Just before my son died, he once told me something,” Rhoda says to me. “His best friend was a trans boy. A teenager just like him. And Jacob just one day says to me out of the blue, like he always did about whatever he was thinking about. He says, ‘Toby told me the first couple years of transition are the hardest.’ And then he went back to doing his homework and didn’t say anything else that night.”

I watch her look up at the corner of the ceiling. I’m sure she’s composing more words, and even if she isn’t she’s not looking for a response from me, yet.

“I always wondered what was going through Jacob’s head when he shared that. The phrase sounded to me like a piece of wisdom passed around from trans person to trans person. Something they told each other to help get through what they need to do. And I don’t see how it couldn’t be,” she continues eventually. “You’re a special case, Meghan, but I imagine it’s going to be similar for you. Things will get easier for you. They have to. But they didn’t for Jacob, and I don’t know why he left. I know that being autistic in this world can be so hard. Especially for a Black boy like him. But after he said that to me, I’ve always got to wonder, you know?”

Then she looks at me. And I still don’t feel like I should say anything.

I don’t smile. I just make sure my eye is pointed at her.

I’m right eye dominant, I think. I keep an eye out for danger with it more often. But it always feels like my left eye is my friendly one, so that’s the one facing her.

“I think,” Rhoda says. “I think, for Molly’s sake, if you are the center of this thing you call the dracomorphosis, you should figure out why and how. I think you know that.”

“Yes,” I say. 

I remember when she first mentioned her son, it sounded like he had died. But I hadn’t asked, and she had offered no indication how or why. I let the thought enter my head, I cataloged it for later, and had focused on what she wanted to talk about after that. She hadn’t even said his name.

So, tonight, to learn his name and that – I’m pretty sure I heard right – that he may have died from suicide. And that she wonders if he was trans, too.

It’s a lot.

“Yes,” I say again.

“Even if you’re an Artist, Meg. I want you to do this. I don’t know how you can. I don’t know if it’s even wise. But if you can give Molly anything that my son Jacob might have missed out on, I want you to do it. Please.”

I look down at my tablet and knuckle out a couple words, “I’ve already vowed to.”

“Good.”

After a little bit more silence, I dare to ask, “Is this why you friend me?”

She just shrugs and shakes her head. Not a tear on her face. And I think she’s trying to will them to come from the looks of it.

—

I’m on my roof again, staring up at the moon.

It’s a noticeable sliver high in the sky. It’s just strong enough to illuminate the high wispy clouds that are coming in and covering the whole sky, creating a cathedral of light and vapor. But it’s not quite as spectacular as I’ve seen it when near full.

This is my favorite kind of nighttime sky. You hardly get to see any stars anymore, especially from the middle of a city. So, moon illuminated clouds will do.

I used to daydream about flying up into the clouds and maybe kissing the moon, as if it was that close.

Now I’m wondering what moon rocks would do for my skin and scales.

And I want to talk to the moon. But I’m doing it in my head.

I remember Kimberly saying something about the neo-pagan belief that on a new moon you should wish for things to come to you, so that the moon will bring them as it waxes to full. And I know I missed that by a few nights.

I wonder if she wished for the ability to be a were-poodle that night. Or if she was joking for some of that, or just trying something on to see if it fit.

Thinking about spirituality, I find myself struck with an idea, a visualization.

If the Earth were a giant dragon, I’d like to think of the moon and the sun as her eyes, put there, up in the sky, to watch over us.

It’s a silly little myth I’ve just made up, but it feels special to me.

So, I ask the Earth, through the moon that is smiling at me, if maybe she could help me figure this all out.

What should I prepare for, if Säure’s people come for us again?

What should I look for to unravel the puzzle of the dracomorphosis?

Why am I supposedly the center of it?

Does that give me some sort of responsibility?

And then my tablet buzzes.

Rhoda has sent me a personal SMS, not in our group. It’s way past her stated bedtime.

“Don’t root out the mole,” she says. “Focus on community. Make it so strong the mole won’t matter. If the mole slips up, don’t acknowledge it. Feed them bullshit instead. But until then, don’t worry at it. Don’t seek them out.”

That seems like counterintuitive advice, until I remember what was done with Alan Turing’s discoveries. So, after a moment's consideration, I reply with, “OK. Thank you.”

“I’ll give you a paper with advice for direct action on it,” Rhoda sends back. “Best practices. Security. That kind of shit.”

“I know tumblr post. Can find myself,” I reply.

“No. Take it from me,” she responds. “It will seem more legit to the others. Caleb will get it, and Tannis’ girlfriend, probably. Maybe a couple of the dragons. But the rest will need that extra push to calm the fuck down.”

“Yes. Got it. Thank you so much.”

“I wish I could help you shed. That looks awful.”

“Please sleep,” I send her, with three different colored heart emojis.

“Meh,” she shoots back. “I will when you do.”

“Going to sleep now,” I reply.

“Good.”

If somehow, by some miracle, I manage to grant Molly her wish, or if the Earth just does it because I asked nicely, what will her parents do?

Another thought occurs to me, because I’m thinking about trans stuff as much as anything.

If I was human and I’d reached out and taken my transition by the horns back in 2015 when it had first occurred to me that I could seriously do it, and gotten my hormones and surgery funded by Medicaid. Would it be like this, too?

Would I hurt so much for my peers who, for one reason or another, didn’t have that chance?

Would I even be able to help them?

How would they be feeling about it all?

[aviculor]

To elaborate on my Katakuri theory, there's a lot of small details. For instance, despite being able to see the future, a jellybean he flicked knocked out the priest before he could shoot Sanji. When he invaded the Sunny, he literally sat down with his arms and legs crossed and just watched Brook and Chopper take his men out. Despite having a den den mushi and witnessing Luffy talk to his crew through a mirror shard, he at no point informs Perospero or any of his other siblings that the Strawhats are still alive. He doesn't even say anything about it to Brulee, Mascarpone, and Joscarpone who are also there in the mirror world. Basically, it would have been incredibly easy for him to kill the Strawhats and be done with it, yet he chose to do nothing simply to see how things would play out. Any time he took initiative, it was neutralizing an active threat to his family such as flicking jellybeans at would-be assassins and providing mochi earplugs during Big Mom's shriek. And, of course, fighting Luffy. Which as I said before, quickly revealed that he respects Luffy and ended with him lowkey making Luffy promise to bring down Big Mom. In short, Katakuri secretly wants his mom to be defeated.

During his backstory, the idea of going to his mom over what happened is never even brought up. No, despite being the princes and princesses of Totto Land, the Charlotte children were completely on their own. No special status. Free to be bullied, free to be assaulted and mutilated. They only had each other to rely on. In fact, when you look at the timeline, Linlin was sailing with the Rocks Pirates during most of her children's childhoods. I'm not even quite sure how she was doing that and also giving birth to at least one child a year for the last 42 solid years. But that's not important right now. What is important is that Charlotte Linlin is a bad mother who is not only negligent, but outright abusive and even willing to kill her children for getting in her way during a tantrum. Katakuri, a man who loves his siblings so dearly that he became a "perfect" cold and calculating killing machine just to keep them safe, has every reason to resent his mother. Additionally, I would imagine it bothers him how he needs to act so stoic and deathly serious to be taken seriously, yet Big Mom can act like a spoiled child and still be treated with the utmost respect and fear. Remember that's not only his mother, that's also his captain. He and Perospero essentially co-lead the Big Mom Pirates whenever Linlin isn't in her right mind, which is...often. Despite Katakuri explicitly being the strongest member of the crew outside of Big Mom herself, it's easy to think of Perospero as the #2 because he is the one at Big Mom's side carrying out her orders and acting in her interest. Katakuri...is not. If you notice, he barely even interacts with Big Mom except during the wedding ceremony. It's also worth noting he conspicuously stayed behind in Totto Land when the Big Mom Pirates sailed into Wano. All evidence suggests he's not actually that loyal to Big Mom, but he cannot openly defy her. Especially not without his beloved family turning on him.

So what happens when a young upstart pirate captain with a reputation for toppling empires named Monkey D. Luffy declares war on Big Mom and basically comes in her home to spit in her face? He personally goes to see if Luffy can put his money where his mouth is. Over the course of a long, long fight, he comes to realize Luffy might actually have what it takes and accepts defeat. He asks Luffy one more time if he still plans on coming back to defeat Big Mom one day. And when informed that Luffy successfully escaped from Totto Land, he smirks.

As for why he bothered getting in the way during Bege's assassination plot, it stands to reason his observation haki future vision told him his siblings would try to avenge her and throw their own lives away. And they would ask why he didn't do anything to stop it. Maybe he foresaw that it wouldn't even work. But much like Luffy wanting to beat up Hody Jones, it just wasn't the right way to do it.