#one of the most pleasurable experiences of this arc

[lucy-moderatz]

[novafire-is-thinking]

Medic, Maverick, Maniac, Murderer: Understanding Pharma

First thing’s first: I love Pharma, dearly.

In all the time I’ve spent evaluating his character, I’ve mainly focused on what can be worked out about who he is as an individual: his core sense of self, psychological drives, subjective worldview, etc.

When all else is stripped away, who is Pharma?

This treatise is the product of obsessing over Pharma, analyzing canon (and extras), and reading as many different perspectives on his character from fans across the fandom. The post is long, so for those of you who balk at the thought of reading a shortfic’s worth of Pharma thoughts, feel free to read the TL;DR (Conclusion) at the end and then decide if the full read is worth your time. Also, a premium reading experience is available in the form of the original Google Doc version.

As you read, keep in mind that this is primarily a mix of psychoanalysis, evidence-based examination, and speculation—not moral, ethical, or sociological commentary. The goal is to examine Pharma’s psychological drives and core values, and each of his appearances in the context of those. All other types of evaluation are up to readers.

Now, take your victim blaming-allergy meds (just in case); remove your black-and-white thinking caps; and leave your personal morality lenses at the door.

Psychological Drives & Core Values

Why does Pharma act the way he does? What gives him a reason to keep living? What are his personal priorities?

At the beginning of the Delphi arc, First Aid establishes Pharma as a “control freak” and someone who “thinks he’s an expert on everything.”

Now, First Aid has a habit of complaining about his bosses, but on both points, there’s canon evidence to back them both.

Expertise and Intellect

Throughout the Delphi and Luna 1 arcs, it’s established that Pharma is a skilled and brilliant doctor.

He once performed a 4-way fuel pump transplant, donating his own fuel pump in the process. (see above panel)

Later, he invented a soundbomb that left an echo laced with a virus and invented an antidote to that virus:

And on Luna 1, he was on the edge of finding a cure for Cybercrosis, based on the fact that Swerve was able to formulate a cure from his notes.

More than being a doctor, Pharma lives for intellectual and scientific achievement as a physician scientist. He feels most alive when he’s able to solve complex medical problems, and when his achievements are recognized by those whose opinion he considers important.

This is Pharma’s 'why.'

And even though he’s arrogant and enjoys praise, it’s not his primary motivation. He doesn’t need it in order to set his mind to whatever he’s interested in, although he’ll seek it from those he values most (i.e. Ratchet).

Pharma sees himself as less of a doctor, and more as a scientific innovator or medical maverick. The practice of medicine is primarily a catalyst for his creativity and intellect; it’s not an end in and of itself like it is for someone like Ratchet or First Aid.

First Aid’s observation of Pharma can be better phrased as, “[Pharma] thinks he’s an expert on everything medical”—because he’s not so driven by achievement and admiration that he’ll grovel at the feet of strangers and get good at something he doesn’t personally find interesting. The only time we see him express a desire for praise is when he’s around Ratchet—someone he holds in high regard for both personal and professional reasons. This makes sense since Ratchet is one of the only people who can give Pharma any kind of competition within what he considers to be his area of expertise.

“Each day we go to our work in the hope of discovering—in the hope that some one, no matter who, may find a solution of one of the pending great problems—and each succeeding day we return to our task with renewed ardor; and even if we are unsuccessful, our work has not been in vain, for in these strivings, in these efforts, we have found hours of untold pleasure, and we have directed our energies to the benefit of mankind.” —Nikola Tesla

Ego

Without question, Pharma has an inflated ego, but having an inflated sense of self doesn’t automatically mean a person is a full-blown narcissist or that they are totally uncaring.

Every personality trait exists on a spectrum. Yes, Pharma is arrogant, but the presence of arrogance doesn’t automatically and completely cancel out all “positive” traits. (For fun, check out studies on Dark Tetrad and Light Triad personality traits.)

People are complex. Arrogance can coexist with genuine kindness, ruthlessness can coexist with deep compassion, etc.

Whether Pharma exhibits genuine kindness is up to each reader’s interpretation of what little canon material exists, but the point is: Pharma’s arrogance doesn’t automatically rule out the possibility of authentic “positive” traits.

Controlling Tendencies

Pharma is comfortable pulling the power card and using it to dump what he sees as uninteresting parts of medical practice on those below him:

“So Fisitron’s writing about the Wreckers’ elbows now, is he?” said Delphi’s Chief Medical Officer. “Come on, First Aid - get to it. You’ve got a Fader in Row 2 downstairs.” He squeezed the air with his finger and thumb. “He’s about this far from shutdown.” —from Bullets by James Roberts

However, there’s nothing in canon indicating he’s power-hungry in a megalomaniacal sense. He’s not Starscream or Megatron; he doesn’t seek political or social power. In fact, he seems perfectly happy hiding away in a lab or medibay by himself so he can direct all his energy to solving issues and achieving the so-called ‘impossible’ within the field of medicine:

The ways in which Pharma exercises power and control are through his expertise, and his administrative/management skills. That’s it.

Self-confidence

Pharma’s arrogance and controlling tendencies don’t seem to be a mask—like he’s trying to compensate for some sense of lack (in those areas). Yes, he fears failure, and yes, he displays some insecurity when Ratchet questions his competence. But at every other point and in every other way, Pharma is unapologetically self-confident. He’s fully self-assured of his intellectual prowess and problem-solving capabilities; he knows what he knows, and he also knows what he doesn’t know.

Pharma’s arrogance and desire for control don’t stem from a hidden lack of confidence or a hunger for power on its own. They stem from the fact that he genuinely sees himself as the best person for the work he does. He trusts himself above anyone else to solve problems that come his way—medical or otherwise (within limits).

Elitism vs. Superiority

I’ve always read Pharma as having an elitist attitude, but not in the social stratification sense:

elitist (adj.) relating to or supporting the view that a society or system should be led by an elite.

There’s no evidence that Pharma believes an elite class of people should hold the most power. Instead, Pharma’s “elitism” is actually an individualistic sense of superiority. It’s centered on him alone, and is tied to his capabilities as a physician scientist and surgeon.

Pharma sees himself as the best of the best and makes sure everyone knows it—sometimes through his words, but mostly by his conduct in the field of medicine. This, paired with Pharma’s natural temperament, doesn’t exactly make him socially popular—inside or outside of medicine:

One could argue that the “personality” Lockdown is referring to was a result of all Pharma had suffered at Delphi and Luna 1, but just as easily, one could argue he was always a bit difficult to get along with, and that his traumatic experiences merely magnified his already-present psychological patterns. Personally, I like the latter interpretation because it’s a flaw that makes Pharma a more interesting character no matter his mental state.

Everyone reacts differently to real and perceived social rejection. Some are so concerned about it that they’ll try anything to belong; others genuinely don’t care, and they continue as usual; and still others cope by shifting their mindset and developing a sense of pride in being an outsider.

There’s no evidence for this in canon, but I believe it’s within reasonable characterization boundaries to headcanon Pharma as being in the second or third category.

With either of those two mindsets, a sense of superiority can develop, or even be an inciting factor. Either someone sees themselves as genuinely superior to the majority and doesn’t mind when this alienates them from people, or they convince themselves they’re superior because the pain of accepting they were rejected for who they are is too much to handle.

Whatever the case, the point is, having an “elitist” attitude isn’t necessarily rooted in a sociological or ideological belief. Sometimes, individuals just see something in themselves that—to them—justifies a sense of personal superiority. A quick glance at Pharma’s canon appearances makes it clear he holds such a view of himself, at least to some degree.

Morality and Compassion

When Pharma first shows up in canon, he’s working at the New Institute. A lot of questionable things took place there on a regular basis—things Pharma would have been aware of, to some degree. However, his presence at the Institute doesn’t automatically mean he agreed with everything happening. Depending on how strongly someone feels about something, some people are content to disagree in silence. Not everyone who seeks employment considers it a priority that the establishment they work for aligns perfectly with their moral values. After all, there are other reasons to take a job: financial benefits, exclusive educational and career opportunities, pure convenience, etc.

I’m not here to say either way whether Pharma’s willingness to turn a blind eye to the events at the New Institute was wrong or right; that’s up to each reader to decide for themselves. However, Pharma’s choice to remain employed at the Institute for some time can say something about him as a character: his priority as a doctor and person is not to take care of everyone he encounters, or to act as some kind of moral or ethical authority.

This isn’t to say Pharma won’t ever stand up for something he regards as right or push back against something he sees as wrong, “off screen.” It’s just that everything in canon points more to a tendency to choose his battles instead of acting immediately on any moral sense the way someone like Optimus or Ratchet might.

This also isn’t to say Pharma doesn’t care about saving lives, but from what little is shown of him before Delphi, it’s hard to say how much he cared. Ratchet confirms later that Pharma was an excellent doctor for most of his life, but all that tells us is he was an excellent doctor; it says nothing about his internal attitude toward his work or patients.

However, inferences can be made based on doctors in our own world:

Being a doctor—especially one in trauma care—is far from easy. It takes a lot out of a person, and there are very few people who last in the profession for a long time. Most medical professionals fall into one of the following categories:

People possessing a strong will that’s coupled with an unwavering passion for taking care of others (the public’s favorite)

People who naturally have, or develop, an ability to switch their empathy off and on at will, or build walls around it—also possessing a strong will (the ideal)

People who naturally have a limited capacity for empathy (the one the public hates to acknowledge)

People with a strong social and professional support system (the necessary, but underutilized and underappreciated factor)

Of course, even if a person has one or more of the above, burnout can and does still happen, but individuals who have at least one have the best chances of surviving and thriving amidst the demands of the majority of medical professions.

As far as is shown in canon, Pharma never had a strong support system—either circumstantially or by choice—so something else was keeping him in medicine.

Pharma shows concern for both Tumbler (Chromedome) and Hubcap:

But even though he obviously cared enough to step in, neither instance makes a strong case for a capacity for empathy beyond the “average” or “norm.” Performing a job well is a lot different from being personally invested in the work.

Based on everything up to this point, and this later comment from Pharma, about Ratchet…

…Pharma has probably never shared the same I-care-about-everything-and-everyone view of the world. Instead, it’s more likely that Pharma holds a more rational view of his work and patients.

One of the first things learned in medicine, especially in trauma medicine, is that you can’t help or save everyone, and to hold yourself to that standard can destroy you quickly if you have a certain temperament or lack healthy boundaries for your empathy.

“There are times when it may seem as though I view sick or injured people not as living, breathing humans with feelings and emotions and people who love them, but simply as cases, as problems to be solved. And that is absolutely true. It's not that I don't have empathy, but the hard fact is that as a doctor, and especially as a trauma surgeon, too much empathy can get in the way of your job and cause you to make decisions based not on sound medical judgment but on your own emotions. Sure, I've seen things that even years later can still make me choke up when I think of them: a little girl shot and killed, a shattered young Marine who shouldn't have died but did. But you can't choke up in the ER or the operating room. To be effective as a trauma surgeon, you have to put a layer of Kevlar around your heart.” —Dr. Peter Rhee, Trauma Red: The Making of a Surgeon in War and in America’s Cities*

Pharma may have learned this difficult truth earlier than Ratchet and developed a practical way of managing his empathy that comes across as “cold.” He may have always had an ability to put up walls around his spark. Or, he may have always had little to no capacity for empathy.

The fact that the morality lock on Tyrest’s portal prevented Pharma from passing through proves he felt guilty for what he’d done, and JRO confirmed this. Therefore, it’s safe to assume Pharma had some level of empathy for his former patients, suffering moral injury when he felt he had no other option but to start killing them.

Still, looking at Pharma’s psychological drives and his behavior throughout canon, it’s clear compassionate care and morality are subordinate to his other values and interests.

*I highly recommend this book, and learning about Dr. Rhee in general. He’s a huge inspiration of mine, and one of my main sources of inspiration when writing Pharma. Level-headed and capable, strong-willed, selectively empathetic, an excellent scientist, etc. He lives for the thrill of practicing medicine both on the floor and as an expert in his field who pushes trauma medicine to new heights through his research. He also takes great pride in his hands. Seriously—the man spent an entire paragraph and a half talking about his “good hands” and how they were one of two reasons he decided to go into trauma surgery. The other reason was that he “liked action and excitement, liked the feeling of being able to walk into a tough situation and take control.” (Sounds familiar…)

Delphi

First thing’s first: we don’t know how much Pharma did or didn’t know about the DJD before agreeing to take the Delphi assignment.

That far into the war, he would have known something about the DJD and their ways of terrorizing traitors and Autobots, but for whatever reason, he took the assignment anyway. Perhaps Prowl assured him the situation on Messatine would be monitored and that the security team would be enough. Perhaps he underestimated the DJD’s capabilities, or scale of territory, and thought he would be able to handle things on his own. Perhaps Prowl gave him no choice. Maybe it was all of these and more.

Whatever the case, according to JRO, Pharma didn’t hate Delphi before the incident with the DJD.

Word of god remains a touchy subject in fandom, but in this case, it’s important because it says two things:

The DJD left the Delphi medical team alone for some time.

Being on the edges of DJD territory didn’t automatically mean isolation and harassment by their hand.

On the second point, First Aid was free to come and go from Messatine as he pleased, seeing as he attended a medical conference at Kimia five years into his assignment at Delphi:

Five years ago [mid-Delphi assignment], the leader of the Wreckers had cornered him at a medical conference at Kimia, the space station that doubled as a weapons research facility. —from Bullets

And five years after that, he was able to not only contact Springer without delay about one of Agent 113’s bullets he’d discovered in an Autobot badge…

He raced upstairs to his computer terminal and typed in a certain frequency code for the second time in his life. A face appeared on the screen and grinned. “It’s me,” said First Aid. “And you're never gonna guess what I’ve got for you..!”

…but he was also able to meet up with Springer to hand off the bullet:

“Your friend has a funny way of making contact,” First Aid had said when he’d got in touch three days earlier, and he was right.

It’s not known if this handoff happened on or off world, but either way, the DJD didn’t interfere.

At some point, Tarn set his sights on Pharma and the Delphi team. Knowing the DJD, one can only imagine what Tarn used to show off his team’s capabilities and convince Pharma the best option was to cooperate.

In striking a deal with Tarn to keep the DJD away from Delphi, Pharma established his territory and ensured his continued security and the safety of his staff. As long as Tarn got his T-cogs, Pharma could continue on in relative peace. He could work his magic on bots that ended up at Delphi, carry out his management duties, and work on whatever projects or research he may have been conducting in his free time.

For whatever reason, after he first came into contact with Tarn, Pharma didn’t call for help. Communications were still operational, as Pharma wouldn’t have suggested contacting High Command about the Duobots if the team was aware of any comm malfunctions:

Also, First Aid later confirms that communications were fine until the Big Bang (soundbomb detonation):

It’s always possible the DJD was monitoring the radio waves, but secure subspace frequencies exist, such as the Datalog Network First Aid used to send the datalog containing the death statistics:

Speaking of which, assuming First Aid sent the datalog with the statistics right when things started to get ‘weird,’ and before the Big Bang shut down comms, it only took—at most—a few days for them to reach Ratchet and Swerve on the Lost Light:

But back to Pharma not calling for help: for all of Prowl’s intel, contingency planning, and fretting over the security of Autobot territories, I find it hard to believe he would have stuck an Autobot medical team on the fringes of DJD territory without giving them some means of securely contacting the outside in case of issues.

But even if Prowl didn’t give Pharma a secure way to contact him or anyone else, and even if Pharma was convinced the DJD was monitoring regular communications, there were other ways he could have reached out for help. After all, the team wasn’t alone on Messatine. Like Pharma said, Prowl continued to send bots to defend the nucleon mines:

The Autobots had been mining nucleon for millions of years at this point, so I doubt the mined nucleon was just sitting in storage on Messatine; shipments of the stuff would have been sent off-world to wherever the Autobots needed it. Why not send a message for Prowl with someone leaving with one of those shipments? A message meant only to be sent over a call when absolutely certain they were out of range of the DJD’s potential monitoring.

Or, why not order in off-world medical supplies and send a message back with the delivery bot(s)?

There are two possible answers to this. One takes into account JRO’s word on the subject; the other is more intricate and speculative on my part, but it leads to the same place. So whatever your stance is on the validity of word of god, there’s an answer for you.

Answer one (word of god)

Simple as that. Pharma was aware of the scope of the DJD’s capabilities and relentlessness, and determined he was trapped prey.

Answer two (no word of god)

There are a few possible reasons Pharma didn’t call for help right away:

He was convinced all his other options would take too long and/or would still lead to him being put under suspicion. After all, being found to have harvested even a single T-cog from an already-dead patient for the DJD could have raised concerns that would lead to Pharma being investigated and/or having a mark put on his record.

He underestimated the severity of Tarn’s addiction, and was certain he could keep up with the T-cog demand without resorting to other means of harvesting, not realizing Tarn’s quota would increase later on.

He was already paranoid as a result of whatever mind games Tarn had set in motion at their first meeting, making Pharma think escape was futile.

Word of god or no word of god, there are clear reasons as to why Pharma ended up trapped. Most likely, it was a mix of all of the above.

Whatever was going on in Pharma’s mind before, he ended up in deeper trouble. Tarn increased his demand for T-cogs, and Pharma couldn’t keep up. By the time this happened, even if he had wanted to call for help, it was too late to do so without implicating himself. He reasoned his only option was to start killing patients to harvest their T-cogs.

Soon, Pharma was so consumed with fretting over whether he’d be able to meet Tarn’s next demand that he didn’t have time or freedom to do anything else except worry and feel guilty. His whole life revolved around Tarn’s addiction; he was no longer in control, and could no longer enjoy whatever it was about Delphi he’d previously enjoyed. Perhaps the facility itself enabled Pharma to research cures and perform scientific miracles of medicine.

Being at the mercy of Tarn—convinced the DJD would find him no matter what—would have been pure psychological torture on its own, but also knowing that any small chance he did have of getting help would end in him losing everything would have added to his suffering. Pharma became desperate to reclaim control over his life and began planning an escape.

Now, JRO has said that Pharma didn’t originally plan to use the rust plague on the DJD…but canon says otherwise:

Of course, Pharma could have been lying to make himself look better in Ratchet’s view, but based on everything he’d been through up to this point with Tarn, it’s more likely he was telling the truth and had tried to eliminate the source of his suffering first. After all, wiping out the DJD would have been the simpler, cleaner option.

When the Duobots refused to detonate the soundbomb near the DJD, Pharma’s objectives shifted. He had to get Delphi shut down in a way that would:

Convince the DJD the shutdown was legitimate.

Pharma knew chances of escaping the DJD at all were slim to none, but he was desperate. Getting Delphi shut down would cut off Tarn’s supply of T-cogs and allow Pharma to escape Tarn’s immediate control, but the shutdown had to be “legitimate” to prevent Tarn from retaliating and hunting him down later. Leaving Tarn even the slightest chance of regaining control was too risky, so Pharma had to make sure his plan was as airtight as possible. 

Cover up the patient murders.

If the truth got out about Pharma killing patients, he’d lose his medical license and most likely be put away for life. Being cut off from the practice of medicine and his intellectually stimulating work as a doctor would mean losing more than a job and a reputation. It would mean losing everything in which he’d anchored his sense of identity and life’s meaning. His refusal to consider any other options wasn’t just about ego and preserving his image as an excellent doctor; it was about preserving any kind of meaningful future he saw for himself.

Pharma needed a plan that would fulfill all of the above. Turning the engineered virus on the medical facility was the most effective and efficient solution. Anything else would have made him suspicious in the view of either Autobot High Command or the DJD, and neither of those would have ended well for him.

Because of his goal to preserve his reputation and future in medicine, he couldn’t even risk revealing anything to First Aid or Ambulon, who would have seen to his ruin. They became nothing more than loose ends that had to be tied up, and based on the fact that Pharma only prepared one vial of the vaccine, his original plan involved him being the only survivor:

He probably would have had no problem making more of the vaccine for anyone else who survived, but he wasn’t counting on it. He wanted a totally clean slate; in letting his staff die with most of his patients, he would be getting rid of any and all evidence and reminders of his failures. He may have cared about First Aid and Ambulon before things got bad, but somewhere along the way, he decided either it wasn’t worth it to go through the trouble of finding a way to save them without raising suspicion, or he didn’t want to risk them putting together the pieces later on.

Of course, when Ratchet showed up, plans changed.

Ratchet

Ratchet is not the kind of person who seeks first to understand or be understanding. He’s inclined to trust what’s in front of him over anything abstract, and tends to look at the results of someone’s actions over trying to find any kind of ‘why’ behind them. Also, unlike Pharma, he operates from a strong moral sense, and reacts quickly and strongly when something or someone goes against that internal moral sense.

Ratchet’s reaction to finding out what Pharma did may seem hasty and harsh, but it makes perfect sense on a human level. There is no such thing as unconditional love; everyone has personal and moral lines (boundaries), and they’re different for each individual. When the most rigid of lines is crossed, that’s it; walls go up and the offender is cut off, no matter how strong the relationship may have been.

Ratchet obviously knew Pharma well enough to think he could try talking some sense into him, but then Pharma revealed that he’d crossed one of Ratchet’s lines: murdering patients. Any willingness Ratchet may have had to try to understand vanished. By the time Pharma started trying to provide a ‘why’ for his actions, Ratchet’s moral judgment had already shut down any chance of understanding what could have possibly led Pharma to kill patients. It didn’t help that Pharma seemed totally unapologetic and outright proud of his plan. For Ratchet, the ‘why’ didn’t matter anymore. What he saw was what he trusted, and what he saw was a friend who’d become his idea of a monster.

Now, Ratchet and Pharma’s relationship is one of the most confusing IDW relationships I’ve had the pleasure and pain of dissecting.

It is notoriously difficult to determine the depth and strength of a relationship from the outside. However, I’ve decided to go ahead and address it anyway because it has the potential to provide insight into Pharma as an individual.

If I were to sum up Pharma and Ratchet’s relationship in a single word, I would use “ambivalent.” The first time I read MTMTE, the thing that stood out to me most about their relationship was the drastic differences between how they each perceived the relationship.

In one sense, there’s the idea of Pharma basically being Ratchet’s crazy stalker ex, which is tossed around in fandom a lot. While I personally dislike seeing it regardless of context (yes, even as a joke), I do see how JRO’s writing choices set things up in a way that makes it easy to superimpose that trope.

In another sense, there’s the idea that Pharma and Ratchet were always close friends, and that what happened at the end of the Delphi story was a betrayal of both sides that came out of nowhere and whose consequences were taken too far.

I disagree with both. Personally, what I see at the end of the Delphi story isn’t an obsessed ex gone mad, a sudden betrayal, or a badly executed backstabbing. What I see is a breakdown of an already-complicated and poorly-maintained relationship: true feelings being revealed, long-repressed bitterness being forced to the surface, carefully-hidden cracks being split wide open.

Most people don’t have an accurate understanding of how much or how little they truly know the people in their lives, often overestimating how well they know a person until something surfaces and blindsides them.

According to JRO, Ratchet was oblivious to Pharma’s romantic interest, and throughout canon, it’s easy to see Pharma was more invested in the relationship than Ratchet ever was.

The question is, did Ratchet ever care about Pharma at all? And if so, to what degree?

Yes, Ratchet calls Pharma “buddy” and “friend,” but the former was sarcastic, and the latter means something different to each person. Also, in light of the circumstances, Ratchet could have just been saying “friend” in response to Pharma saying it—an emotional appeal more than anything.

However, Pharma must have been aware of Ratchet’s lack of relational investment because during the confrontation at Delphi, Pharma’s first reaction wasn’t to appeal to their friendship (ex: “But you know me!”). Instead, he appealed to their shared profession:

Then there’s the exchange of insults: 

This is what I meant earlier by “true feelings being revealed.” Ratchet may have just been trying to match Pharma’s insult, but it’s unlikely it was merely reciprocal because while Ratchet is snarky at times, he’s sincere in that snark. There’s almost always some truth in his verbal jabs no matter how unserious they seem, and he’s never cruel for cruelty’s sake.

So, if Pharma saw Ratchet as an inferior doctor, and Ratchet saw Pharma as an inferior Autobot…it’s reasonable to assume there was always some deep-rooted competition and conflict preventing them from being super close.

Possible suspicion surrounding Pharma’s conduct as an Autobot paired with a tendency to misjudge the nuances of relationships could explain why Ratchet was so quick to decide Pharma was a lost cause. Maybe Pharma’s actions at Delphi confirmed something from the past that Ratchet had brushed off for whatever reason.

In any case, Ratchet seems to have been largely unaffected by the Pharma he found at Delphi. While leaving Messatine, he emphasizes that he’ll miss Pharma’s talent.

Not “who he used to be.”

Not “what we used to have.”

Just…“his talent.”

Later, on Luna 1, Pharma mentions that he and Ratchet were inseparable, but that could mean a few different things:

Best case scenario: Pharma and Ratchet sought each other out on equal terms.

Worst case scenario: Pharma followed Ratchet around.

Somewhere in the middle: the job forced Pharma and Ratchet to work in close proximity most of the time, and while Pharma intentionally ran into Ratchet more often than necessary, Ratchet also sought out Pharma every now and then.

Whatever the case, working with someone every day doesn’t tell you anything about who they are as a person, and the amount of time spent with someone doesn’t automatically correlate to how deep the relationship is or how well the people know each other. It’s not like either Pharma or Ratchet are shown to be good at expressing their personal feelings outside of extreme circumstances. 

Ratchet does bring up late-night conversations of the past:

But while this indicates there was something deeper between him and Pharma, because neither of them were ever shown to be super open with their true feelings, it’s unlikely the conversations were full of touchy-feely talk. In all likelihood, the conversations were mostly medicine and war-related, with the rare spark-to-spark talk sprinkled in. Also, considering everything up to this point, one has to wonder if those talks ever meant anything to Ratchet, or if he was just digging for something that might stall Pharma’s torture.

Maybe those late-night conversations did mean something to Ratchet, but whatever the case, Pharma didn’t take the bait. He knew Ratchet was trying to stall by making an emotional appeal, and perhaps he was convinced the conversations hadn’t meant that much to Ratchet.

Looking at all of this, it’s hard to believe Ratchet ever cared about Pharma as more than an interesting work friend. But even if he had cared more than he let on, it wasn’t enough to overcome the doubts he had about Pharma’s character.

As for whether Pharma truly cared about Ratchet, I’m convinced he did, but in a mostly unhealthy way, and with a strong undercurrent of one-sided rivalry. At some point, Ratchet had been an equal and a source of challenge, and he probably listened to Pharma pretty often. It’s reasonable to assume Ratchet was one of the only people—if not the only person—able to handle Pharma’s intense temperament and challenge him in a meaningful way, providing some semblance of friendship for Pharma.

However, one last thing that stands out is that, when telling Ratchet why he’s torturing him, Pharma didn’t say anything like, “Because you hurt me” or “Because you turned against me—your friend.” Instead, he said it was for “ruining things at Delphi” and because “you declared war on my body.”

Either Pharma wasn’t being entirely honest, or Ratchet’s friendship didn’t mean as much in the first place as he’d previously implied. It’s possible the ‘Because you hurt me’ was implied in “for ruining things back at Delphi,” but why not say it outright? Perhaps it was a fear of vulnerability and admitting there was ever a relational need at all.

At the end of the day, it’s difficult to say for certain how close Pharma and Ratchet were, but it’s clear they were never on the same page and there were always barriers between them.

Luna 1

Revisiting the matter of Pharma’s morality taking a backseat to other priorities, his time on Luna 1 further underscores this. Again, Pharma chooses his battles and is unwilling to put himself at great risk for the sake of others, but a closer look at the situation with Tyrest reveals there wasn’t really anything he could have done for the Cold Construct population even if he had wanted to. It would have been him against Tyrest, an army of Legislators, and a bunch of Decepticons. Pharma knew his limits, and seeing as his goal was self-preservation, it was perfectly rational for him to go along with Tyrest’s grand scheme.

Besides, it doesn’t look like he was given much of a choice:

Although, knowing Pharma, he still would have demanded to know beforehand what he would get in return for the pain, and evidently, Tyrest held up his end of the deal since Pharma had access to the Luna 1 tech collection.

As for Tyrest’s plan to wipe out the Cold Construct population, there’s nothing indicating Pharma’s decision to turn a blind eye to it was rooted in malevolence or bigotry—just rational apathy: ‘I can’t stop Tyrest, so why concern myself with the outcome?’

Again, you can’t save everyone; Pharma had all he could do to save himself.

But it wasn’t all horrible. I would even go so far as to say Pharma found some happiness on Luna 1. Tyrest didn’t care about him, but he didn’t need Tyrest to care. Everyone else there hated him, but he didn’t need to feel like he belonged or was admired. At this point, Pharma’s only interest was Tyrest’s Luna 1 tech collection, and that meant playing nice so he could keep his reward. Back at Delphi, he probably assumed he’d never again practice medicine the way he’d loved; being brought to Luna 1 was an unexpected, yet welcome, second chance.

Even so, Pharma had his moments of cruelty. Back at Delphi, he had easily-identifiable reasons to kill patients—both the ones whose T-cogs he harvested and the 20 more he tried to kill when he shot the life support machine. But on Luna 1, he had no reason to be cruel, yet he chose to be. By this point, he’d mastered the ability to almost completely ignore or subdue his conscience.

In the case of Ratchet’s torment, one could argue Pharma only drew it out for retaliation purposes; it was personal for him.

As for cutting Ambulon in half, it was obviously meant to be as gruesome as possible, yet also quick. But personally, I don’t think it was about Ambulon; it was more about hurting Ratchet. Due to the fact that Ratchet’s identity is wrapped up in his compassion and his ability to be helpful as a doctor, one of the most effective acts of revenge would be to do something that makes him feel utterly helpless.

Also I wonder if, subconsciously or consciously, Pharma was attempting to recreate the sense of helplessness he felt back at Delphi under Tarn’s watch: “Do you see, Ratchet? Do you now understand how it feels to have control ripped out of your hands? To be totally helpless?”

Next, for some reason, Pharma was invested in the promised execution of Getaway and Skids:

He had no personal connection to either of them that would give him a reason to be interested, so maybe Tyrest told him he could perform the execution and/or have the corpses for medical experimentation. Either way, Pharma would have had a chance to use some of the tech in Tyrest’s tech collection, possibly explaining his excitement.

Of course, any chance of an execution disappeared when the final showdown went wrong.

When Pharma tried to escape to Cyberutopia and discovered he couldn’t pass through the spacebridge forcefield, he gave up. He’d been caught; he would no longer have access to Tyrest’s tech collection; Ratchet and every other self-righteous Autobot would never forgive him; and the morality lock prevented him from escaping. By all appearances, he would never again be able to engage in that which gave him a sense of meaning. He had shrunken his world down to his obsessive interest in a specialized field and one significant, yet unrequited relationship. With both of these lost, his world collapsed. 

Yes, guilt played a part in Pharma’s despondency, but because he seems to have been in denial of said guilt, it’s more likely his despair was primarily due to the fact that he saw no future for himself. He had nothing left to live for.

In light of this, Pharma’s flippant comments to First Aid make sense. He wasn’t being insensitive as much as he was goading First Aid. Pharma’s not stupid. First Aid had a massive rotary cannon on him, and Pharma knew exactly which emotional buttons to push to get him to pull the trigger.

Pharma wanted to die.

Adaptus

First, let me emphasize that Adaptus did not take possession of Pharma’s body. Instead, Pharma was the unwelcome guest:

How Pharma ended up in Adaptus’ new body is a mystery, but whatever the case, Pharma didn’t pass on to the Allspark. Whether or not he had a choice can only be speculated.

First Aid had blasted Pharma’s head clean off, so whatever happened must have been related to the spark. Perhaps some residual spark energy was trapped in a body part that Adaptus repurposed, leaving Pharma tethered to the new body unwillingly.

Still, Pharma managed to assert his will and override Adaptus for a brief moment. Considering Adaptus was basically a god, this is impressive.

Based on Adaptus’ surprise at being interrupted, it seems he didn’t know Pharma was there. Why Pharma hadn’t tried to assert himself sooner is a mystery. Maybe Adaptus’ scheme was entertaining; maybe Pharma actually liked the company; or maybe he’d been waiting for an opportunity to get revenge on Tyrest for everything done to him back at Luna 1.

Sure enough, just like with Ratchet back on Luna 1, Pharma’s vengeful streak came out as soon as there was an opportunity.

Unfortunately for him, this left him vulnerable, and Tyrest took advantage of the confusion:

Conclusion

When someone reduces their world to narrow personal interests and one or a few very special people, their grip tightens around what little they have. They often become obsessive and possessive of the few things that make them feel alive, and their view of the world becomes increasingly more subjective and detached from the outside world. Pharma seems to have fallen into this trap.

Even so, in the context of the circumstances, several of the decisions he made were rational—even if coldly so. Oftentimes, “extreme” rationality and self-preservation are villainized in fiction, and characters like Pharma who don’t automatically put themselves at great risk for anyone and everyone are villainized, or at least looked down on. Their choices are often regarded as less human, but rationality and self-preservation are just as human as compassion and self-sacrifice.

Ultimately, Pharma was trapped and pushed over the edge into “insanity” by Tarn’s cruelty, but his own choices made from a place of pride determined how he fell, and how far he fell. It was a perfect storm of Tarn’s mind games and Pharma’s intellectual arrogance, excessive self-confidence, obsessive nature, and stubborn grip on the kind of future he wanted for himself.

Pharma is yet another Icarus who flew too close to the sun and paid dearly for it, and while JRO/the narrative could have given this Icarus better wings, that doesn’t change the fact that he chose to fly so high.

***

Many thanks to anyone who made it to the end of this monster of a post.

-tosses a Rodimus Star at you-

[thesiltverses]

It feels like there are a ton of trans characters in The Silt Verses and I just wanted to say it is pretty rad there are so many whose entire character arcs and personality don’t solely revolve around being trans and they are fully fleshed out characters just like any cis character. LGBT representation in mainstream media is so boring and most of the time, it’s like people think the only facet there is to a queer character is being queer, especially with trans characters. So thanks for making everyone a fully developed character and not just having them there specifically for a “coming out arc” and then being wallpaper the rest of the show.

Hey, and thank you so much for the very kind and generous words!

Your point about LGBTQ+ and particularly trans characters often being portrayed as single-issue personalities in mainstream media is a really interesting one - although I wouldn't feel comfortable agreeing with the idea that TSV does a better job. (Ultimately, I'm a cis man and while I'm very proud of the work we've done, I know my writing carries the limitations and blind spots inherent to my experience, and I know there are trade-offs and downsides to the choices we've made around how queerness is portrayed in the show.)

I'd also want to say that one of the great joys and pleasures of The Silt Verses and my life to date has been working with so many absurdly talented queer and trans actors in such a wide variety of roles, and I don't think I can overstate just how much of the well-rounded humanity and personality that you mention is entirely down to their performances and their emotional range.

(Also, if you're up for something grim and gross, Gretchen Felker-Martin's Manhunt and Alison Rumfitt's Tell Me I'm Worthless are both very good horror novels I've devoured in the past year that are by trans authors and centred around trans characters, and with - I thought! - multi-faceted and roundly-developed protagonists.

There's also another fantastically talented queer author I can recommend who knows how to write a compelling character, and their name is...wait, B. Narr? What the hell?!)

[prettyboykatsuki]

you make me want Rin so bad….. I’m so unwell about him shut up PLEASE for the sake of my sanity….. (don’t actually tho….) he gets all shy afterwards??? really???? 😣 any time you say “peace and love on planet earth” on a post it is the craziest most diabolical shit. absolutely not peace and love it is chaos and torment in horny hell

i really want to study him in a lab so i cant help but write for him in the horniest of ways

HE DOES GET ALL SHY AFTERWARDS. THE NERVE OF HIM LMAO

i dont think he ever truly gets over that feeling though over the course of your relationship though later on he can be the teensiest bit smug.

to me rin sees sex as solely intimacy and not an instinct driven thing so its both very seperate from his sense of egoism and very much related. a lot of rins character arc is about learning how to not only hone his intuition but to really sharpen his instinct and "lose" himself in the feeling od playing soccer.

his whole metaphor about destruction is more appropriately about letting himself be enraptured and possessed by the spirit of the game. if you watch hq its similar to tsukis arc and it's also why sae is such a dick to him about using sae as his reason for soccer.

essentially, rin is very prideful about appearances when he plays soccer. thats his ego. but he can't become a good player if he's not willing to show the worst of him to the sport.

I SAY ALL OF THAT TO SAY: sex, for rin, is separate from his sense of egoism. it's a form of intimacy, a way of companionship - and one of the only separating lines from friend to partner.

so sex for rin is all about instinct. it's why he can't fully be domineering though he makes a great submissive, because while he can feel self-conscious, he loses himself in the pleasure and euphoria of connecting with you so wholly. the experience is almost religious.

the reason he gets so SHY after fucking your brains out is because you have basically seen him at his most raw and sincere. him holding you, fucking you, letting himself indulge in something so physical it borders on caveman is the most vulnerable he's ever been in his life.

and you don't particularly know that. you don't understand because how could you? that part of rin is an enigma even to himself. but rin knows it more, knows that by agreeing to fuck you he's letting you meet a part of him he rarely shows anyway

of course he's a little shy about that. it might always be marriage. it's why he doesn't lay a hand on you and feels embarrassed when he gets those inclinations towards.

yes yes he's horny and finds you hot but most importantly, he wants you to look at him and feel good. he wants to feel good with. there's nothing so sacred yk

once again tho... peace and love on planet earth

[andythelemon]

Life update 2024

Hey everyone! It’s been a while since I last wrote anything of substance here. How time flies! Happy new year, happy year of the dragon! I hope this one is kind and auspicious for you all.

I'll admit to falling off the art train terribly for most of 2023. I barely drew; a lot of things I posted were older pieces for projects I couldn't share at the time. I think I speak for most of us when I say it's not been a great time for art collectively; growing frustrations with social media and despair at the state of current global affairs leaves little room for creative inspiration. I know many artist friends of mine are in the same boat. There's little one can do except plod on and hope for better times ahead, I guess? I'll do my best regardless!

Having said that, I did have a major touch-grass-normie arc offline, and as wild as it was, I'm glad I invested time and energy into that area of my life. After the lockdown years of terminal-onlineness, it felt great to do things that were not related to fandom at all, to have new experiences, to make new friends, reconnect with old ones, see new things. It was funny and terrifying all at once. I truly felt like a shonen and shojo protagonist (we will not go into details of the love triangle situation, IYKYK!). There were ups and downs, sadness and laughter, but that's part of life. I'm grateful for all that's happened and am a better, wiser, more mature person because of it. This past year taught me it's not about categorizing life's happenings into a basic good/bad dichotomy, but more learning from each experience and acknowledging we are wiser and grateful for having weathered what's thrown our way. Character development!

The universe has a way of working things out... so at the end of 2023, I had the opportunity to travel for 3 months. After hopping around the East Coast, Milan, various bits of Japan and a beach break in sunny Egypt, I've returned home with a renewed vigor for living my best life again. It was a joy to hang out with various artist friends in person and meet some of you at ANYC. I'll cherish every second of my travels and hope we can meet again soon!

I did fall off the nerd bandwagon for a while, so I gotta get back into the various anime on air! I've been watching Magi in my own time... such a guilty pleasure, but so many things await, including catching up on JJK S2, BSD, and everything else. Just goes to show my deep love for adventure, friendship-fuelled stories keeps me going. No promises on what this year holds art wise, but I'll continue trying hard and sharing what I can, as well as the usual self-indulgent group projects.

Thanks as always for the kind support and for sticking around. This blog is 12 this year... crazy, huh? See you on the other side!

[atinylittlepain]

Hayloft - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x dancer!reader

series masterlist

Joel thought they were joking, really. But when his patrol partners lead him through the back of the Tipsy Bison and slip down a dim flight of stairs, he realizes rather quickly that The Hayloft is no joke.

warnings | 18+ smut (duh), angst, joel being a ding dong

a/n | thanks must be given to @pedgeitopascal for letting me take on this idea <3

songs of this chapter:

I can't quit you babe - Led Zeppelin

Queen of boredness - Kinny

Do I move you? - Nina Simone

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

Joel pulls on a faint memory at the periphery of his mind. A summer day in Austin, he and Tommy sitting on the curb outside their childhood home with their knees up to their ears, sweating in the stifling warmth of the afternoon. Barely-dropped voices murmuring back and forth as Joel flipped through the magazine held between them. He had been trying to act cool, like his first year of middle school had manned him up compared to his younger brother. But he remembers that thick heat creeping up his throat, and a flush that couldn’t just be chalked up to the Texas sun as their eyes roamed over bare bodies, spread legs, and faces contorted in what they supposed was pleasure. They had found the old Playboy tucked under their parents’ mattress, bored out of their melting minds and stewing in the AC. It was the first time he could remember feeling like that, somewhere between curious and uncomfortable, excited and ashamed. 

He thinks about it now as he experiences that same feeling, forty years and change later, sitting in the basement of the Tipsy Bison.

“Where the fuck did they get those shoes?”

“There’s a mall, 15 miles south.” “They didn’t sell shoes like that at malls, man.” Joel is inclined to agree with the man making the observation on that point, wearily eyeing the dizzying struts of heels on the stage in front of him. He only lets his eyes wander upward briefly, spanning bare legs, catching a glance of scrappy lace, before turning his face back down to the swirling whiskey in his glass.

Honestly, when one of the men on his patrol team mentioned this place, Joel thought it was a joke, muttering a gruff “yeah, sure” when they invited him along for a night at The Hayloft. But he realized he was sorely mistaken when the group of men guided him into the Tipsy Bison, promptly walking through the door to the back where they kept all their kegs and slipping down a flight of dimly lit steps.

He recognized a few people immediately in the glowing red light, other men he had been on patrol with, playing pool and smoking in the back of the room. But most of them were seated, eyes glued to the raised platform in the center of what was clearly a bar, beneath a bar. It took a second for his brain to catch up to a sight so completely unexpected. 

Swaying hips, curving spines, flicking hair, wandering hands, and dipping legs. Women, looking like something straight out of a porn film. 

Now listen, Joel Miller was raised by a mother who taught him to be a gentleman, and as such, he had never once been in an establishment like this place, not before, and certainly not after the world fell apart. But, he is a man, afterall, and he can’t exactly help the way his eyes keep darting to one particular figure shimmying around on the stage. So, as he sits amongst his patrol partners, taking zinging sips of liquor, he feels that familiar heat creeping up his throat, making him stiffen up in more ways than one.

The music changes all of a sudden, a man’s rasped shout and a dragging guitar riff laid over a slumped drumbeat. He recognizes it, though he can’t quite place it in the haze. There’s four women up on the stage, and while three of them step down, slinking amongst the seated men, the other one, the one Joel has been watching, crooks her arm around the pole he had thought was only for decoration. 

He no longer tries to hide his stare, watching the arc of her hips as she dips and snaps her hair out of her face, the thin fabric of what could only be described as panties pulling taut across the curve of her ass. She moves like liquid, curling around the pole and lifting up into the air, neck stretched long as she arches back in a perfect spin. 

“She’s good, right?” Joel glances at Harris, his patrol partner who just spoke, grunting something noncommittal at the man’s broad grin, not wanting to miss a second of her performance. And a performance it most certainly is. She’s perfect, glowing in the faint red lights of the bar, every outstretched leg, every twist and bend, radiant and divine. Suspended in air, one arm elongated, before tracing a line of desire with her palm dragging down her bare torso, hips swerving obscenely up into the flicker of her fingertips. And then, with the next staggering string of guitar chords, she drops, catching herself at just the last moment. A delicate heel is lowered, followed by the other as the room resounds in applause, Joel only now realizing that he needs to pick his jaw up off the table. 

The track changes, a stilted rhythm that she starts to bob her head side to side to as she steps down off the stage. Even her walk is like a dance, hips swaying, hands grazing the sides of her bare thighs as she moves, and Joel realizes too late that she’s coming directly toward their table.

“Harris, who’s your friend?” 

“Cherry, this is Joel Miller. He’s new in town. Joel, this is Cherry.” She tilts her head at him, a simpering smile crinkling her eyes as she leans forward, breasts all but spilling out of the cups of her bra. Joel stutters into motion when it clicks in his brain that she’s holding out her hand for him to shake, his palm sliding against hers in a firm squeeze.

“Nice to meet you, Joel Miller. What’d you think of the show?” He has to clear his throat a few times before he speaks, an icy heat prickling the back of his neck all the while.

“I, um– you’re something else.” Jesus fucking christ, that’s the best you could do? She, however, seems to like his answer, smile broadening into a grin.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me–” Her eyes glance down and back up to Joel, twice, and he only figures out that it’s because he’s still holding her hand when she gives his palm another squeeze. He’s quick to let go of her hand, though he wishes he hadn’t. But his dismay dissolves with the sight of her walking away, and the way her ass shakes with each sublime step. He cranes his neck, only catching a glimpse of her slipping through a door in the back of the bar. 

“Easy, Miller. You can look, but you can’t touch.”

“Where’s that door go?” Harris laughs, shaking his head.

“Look, man, don’t worry about that. Everyone falls in love with Cherry when they first see her. But it’ll pass. She’s off-limits.”

“Why?” Harris shrugs.

“She just is. They all are. Keeps things civil, y’know?” Joel has no interest in being civil, not right now. He hasn’t wanted something this bad in a long time, and even though Harris tries to call him back, he doesn’t so much as tilt his head in acknowledgement as he wades through the simmering haze of the bar toward the door he saw her go through. 

He only briefly wonders at just how big this basement is when he shoulders through the door and into a dimly lit hallway.

“Nat, is that you? Did your set finish already?” Her voice is coming from behind a cracked door further down the hallway, which Joel follows with little thought to it. 

“What the fuck?” It’s a blurry string of events. He catches the quickest glimpse of her when he sidesteps through the door, seeing her standing in front of a mirror, her bra loose and unfastened, hanging on her shoulders. But it becomes apparent pretty fast that this was possibly the stupidest (and creepiest) way he could have tried to get her attention when she catches sight of him in the periphery of the mirror, whipping around and startling a few feet back before hurling something small at him that still hurts like hell when it makes contact with his forehead.

“Jesus– shit!” He instinctively curls over himself, one hand on his thigh and the other pressing into the spot just above his eyebrow that seems to be bleeding from what he now sees was a hairbrush.

“What the hell is your problem, man? You thought you could get an extra look? You think you’re special, huh? Is that it?” His head is reeling, and it’s all he can do to straighten back up, still applying pressure to his well-deserved wound. In the time it’s taken him to collect himself, she’s slipped a robe on, tied close and tight around her waist.

“N-no, no. That isn’t– I just– wanted to talk, um, to you.” He feels like he’s got cotton in his mouth, gumming up his words and drying out his throat until it all comes out garbled and wrong. She lets out a bitter laugh, brushing past him and opening the door wider, fixing him with a hard look.

“Yeah, nice try, buddy. But I’ve heard that one before, and lemme tell you, that’s not how this works. Now get out.” She doesn’t have to tell him twice, Joel shuffling through the door, though he stops for a moment to say something.

“I’m– I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t know what I was thinking. But I swear, this ain’t how I am, normally. Fuck– I’m just– I’m sorry.” He doesn’t wait around for a response from her, hurrying back down the hall and out into the bar, not even looking for Harris as he makes a beeline for the stairs, taking them two at a time and getting the fuck out of the Hayloft and the Tipsy Bison.

The fresh night air is something of a relief, though Joel is still mortified, thick and heavy guilt settling in his bones as he stumbles home. He realizes now that he had been a fucking fool, thinking that she had, what? Been flirting with him? He scoffs to himself, knowing that it had just been a part of her act, her performance. And Joel bought it, hook, line, and sinker. 

When he gets home, he takes a shower, scrubbing harshly at his skin, trying to clean away the sickening shame settled just beneath the surface. He knew better, he was raised better, and he’s horrified with himself that even at his age, he wound up thinking with his dick rather than his mind. Looking in the mirror, he sees the sizable cut, just over his left eyebrow, what will serve as a reminder to him to not get distracted by pretty, shiny things. 

He doesn’t sleep well, tossing and turning in his sheets. The only real conclusion he reaches is that he’ll never set foot in the Tipsy Bison, or the Hayloft, again.

…

Joel is not having a good morning. Normally he’d feel at least a twinge of contentment in working at the stables, but today, the only thing he can focus on is his pounding headache and the embarrassing memory of last night. 

He had only barely escaped Ellie’s questioning earlier this morning when she came downstairs and into the kitchen, telling him that he “seemed pissier than usual” before asking him where he got “that dinky little cut.” 

Luckily, working the stables usually means he doesn’t have to talk to anyone except for the horses, the quiet tasks helping somewhat to ease his mind. His relief is short-lived, however, when he hears a newly familiar voice nearing the stables. Sure enough, when he peers out of the stables, he sees her, leading one of the new colts around the pen. While she looks a lot different than how she did last night, blue jeans and a ratty work coat hiding her figure, Joel would recognize that smile anywhere. Before he can return to hauling sacks of feed around, her eyes catch his, and she clearly does a double take, squinting at him in the morning sun. 

“Hey.” A single word, a jerk of her chin, and then she’s walking over to him, and Joel suddenly has no clue what to do with his hands, shoving them deep in the front pockets of his jeans.

“I wanted to talk to you.” She crosses her arms over her chest, head tilted as she stands before him. Joel has enough sense this morning not to come off like a total fool.

“Again, I’m real sorry about last night. I wasn’t thinking, at all. It won’t happen again, I promise.” She sighs, toeing her boot into the dirt before glancing back up at him.

“Thank you for your apology. It’s fine, really. You weren’t the first, and lord knows you won’t be the last. I guess it kinda comes with the territory.” The laugh she lets out is clipped, clearly trying to hide the sore tinge to her words.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever been called ma’am before.” It’s unexpected, the wry crook of her smile as she says it, and Joel has to huff out a laugh, rocking a bit on his heels. But his laugh fizzles out when she brushes her fingers over his forehead, leaning up and tracing his cut.

“That hairbrush did a little number on you, huh? Sorry about that.” Her touch is gone as quick as it had been there, but the warmth creeping across his face remains.

“S’alright. Reckon I deserved it anyways.” That earns him another smile and a light laugh.

“Yeah, I guess you did.” Her words come out airy, the quirk of her grin telling him that she means it as much as she’s joking about it, and it emboldens him just enough to say something else.

“Can I ask you something?” She purses her lips, squinting up at him.

“You can ask, and maybe I’ll answer.” 

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?”

“You’re new, right? It may be a small town, but everyone works. I’ve been here for years and there’s probably still folks I don’t know just because we’re on different work schedules.” 

“And is that– what you do at the bar– is that work?” She hums at his question, all smiles when she answers.

“Did that look like work to you?” His mind darts back to last night, her performance, and he has to swallow hard around the memory. She huffs out a laugh when he remains silent.

“No, that’s not work. Just a little fun, an escape, y’know? Forget about everything going on up above ground for a while.” He nods, certainly being able to understand the desire to forget the world, even for a few hours. They stand in silence, a hiccup of time, just looking at each other, which she breaks with a sigh.

“Well, I better get back to work. But, are we good?” 

“Think that’s for you to decide, ma’am.” The laugh that coaxes out of her is different, fuller, as she tosses her head back, eyes crinkling up when she does look at him again.

“Hmm, yeah, I’d say we’re good. See you around, Joel.” With that, she turns on her heel, heading back out to the horsepen. But Joel still has another question for her.

“Wait– that’s not your real name, is it? Cherry?” She grins over her shoulder at him, shrugging a little.

“Why don’t you come see another show sometime? Maybe I’ll answer your question then.” 

…

He recognizes the music immediately. Nina Simone, something his mother liked to spin on the old record player in the living room, snapping and popping with the drawl of the needle. But his mother is the last thing he’d like to think about right now. 

He went alone this time, ducking down the stairs and sitting on a stool at the bar, using a glass of whiskey in his hand as an anchor as his eyes scanned the murky room. He feels his heart sink when he doesn’t see her up on the stage, nor in the crowd, but his disappointment fades when someone taps him on the shoulder, making him turn around in his seat. 

“Hey, you came.” She’s in those same damn, mile-high shoes, that same little black set. But Joel has resolved himself this time to be a gentleman, and as such he keeps his eyes upward, as best he can. 

“I was looking for you– wasn’t sure if I came on the wrong night.” Her smile is tinged red by the lights of the bar, eyes glimmering in the haze.

“Well, you actually just missed my set.” He feels his shoulders slump at that, only a little embarrassed by his clear display of discontent and the way that she catches it with a laugh.

“But, if you’d like, I could show you what you missed.” He doesn’t think he heard her right, his head ducking a bit, eyes squinting at her easy grin. She brings a hand to his bicep, fingers trailing down until they’re tangling with his and she starts walking backwards. It’s all Joel can do to shuffle along to her gentle tug, his brain short-circuiting all over again. 

She pulls him through the backdoor, and then through the same door he had so witlessly stepped through the last time. He actually gets a good look at the room this time, what appears to be a makeshift dressing room, a few mirrors propped against one wall, clothes slung on a coat rack, and a ratty couch pushed into the corner. She drags him inside, Joel all but stumbling over his feet as she gives him a light shove down onto the couch, taking a few steps back and resting her hands on her hips. The music is only a faint throb through the walls now, quiet enough that he can hear his heartbeat kicking and quickening, blood rushing.

Her hips already have a little sway in them, the ghost of a smile as she keeps her eyes on him, and Joel muses to himself that whatever this is, it’s all going to be on her terms, always. 

“Since I don’t have the pole, I’ll have to improvise a little bit, that ok with you?” Worried that his voice would betray him, he just nods, the sound of her laugh relaxing his shoulders from where they had been pinned up by his ears. 

“Besides, I don't think those men out there really care about the moves, so long as my ass and tits are out. But I’m an artist, y’know? I care.” As if to emphasize her point, she steps one foot out, arcing her hips in a circle, and arching her back, her ass on perfect display as she grins over her shoulder at him. All Joel can think is that this must be a dream, that there’s no way this is actually happening. But seeing her dance up close, there’s no denying how real she is. He can see the sheen of sweat across her sternum, the little pull of her brows as she moves, the curved crease where her ass meets her thigh, and it all only makes him want her more. 

“Hmm, I have to admit, I prefer dancing with a prop. Do you mind?” Though he’s not entirely sure what he’s not minding, Joel shakes his head no. He reckons that he wouldn’t even mind if she asked to stab him in the thigh, not at this point. She’s got that smile again, like she knows a secret she’s never going to tell him, as she saunters toward him, one knee and then the other coming to rest against the outsides of his thighs. The last sane part of his mind tells him that he still needs to be a gentleman, so he keeps his hands balled in fists on the couch cushions. He can see the intricacy of the thin lace detailing over her bra, her chest is so close to his face as she rests her forearms over his shoulders. He clears his throat, trying to focus on her face instead of her hips dipping and hovering over him.

“Did you, uh– did you do this for work before?” 

“Mmhmm, made good money too. Was putting myself through college with it and everything.” She giggles at the raise of his eyebrows, tilting her head at him as she continues to sway in his lap. 

“What? Does that surprise you?” 

“Maybe a little, though to be honest, I’m starting to get used to you surprising me.” 

“You can touch me, y’know.” He freezes at that, any ease he had slipping away under the prickling heat of her gaze.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.” He can tell that she finds his response amusing, her smile slanting and eyes squinting at him.

“And why not?” 

“I’d rather not get another hairbrush thrown at me.” He tries not to, he really does, but he can’t help the way his eyes dart down to the swell of her breasts lightly bouncing with her laugh. It’s a quick little thing, the kiss she presses to the cut above his eyebrow, but it’s enough to melt his resolve down into a dripping puddle.

“I promise I won’t throw anything else at you. But why do I get the feeling that’s not the only reason you’re hesitating?” He lets out a sigh, and she stills on top of him.

“Oh god– did I completely read this wrong? I’m so–”

“N-no! That ain’t it. It’s just– I barely know you and I– you gotta know that I don’t usually do stuff like this.” “Stuff like what?” 

“Like whatever you’ve got planned in that pretty head of yours.” She huffs out a laugh at that.

“Why don’t I tell you my real name? Then you’ll know me a little better than barely.”  She leans in, lips grazing his ear, her name coming out on a whisper that Joel thinks will spin in his mind for the rest of his life. At the same time, her hands slip down his arms, uncurling his fists and guiding his palms to splay over her hips. Joel takes it from there, hands dragging down over the tops of her thighs before roaming up the span of her back.

“There, was that so hard?” Her smug look makes him grumble, hands dipping down to cup her ass and give an experimental squeeze that makes her gasp.

“Got another question for you, darlin.” She crooks a brow at him, waiting.

“Why me, huh? Could have any one of those guys out there. And I didn’t exactly make a good first impression.” Her smile screws up, eyes narrowing like she’s really considering what he said.

“Because you look like someone who’d like to forget for a while, same as me. And I like it when you call me ma’am.”

Things go downhill fast from there. It’s been a long time since Joel has kissed a woman, but he’s quick on the uptake, his lips molding with hers, tongues twisting up between little sighs and the clicks of spit. His hands firm up on her hips, pulling her down to grind against his aching hardness, reveling in the whimper that breaks in her throat when he does. 

He just needed a little certainty from her, and now that he has it, he moves with confidence beneath her, dragging his lips down her chest, mouthing at the fabric of her bra, pulling away only briefly when she shrugs the garment off before dipping back down to take one of her peaked nipples into his mouth. She says his name like a plea, breathless and pitchy and he’d like to replay the sound on an infinite loop in his mind. 

“No teasing– not this time. One of the girls could– fuck– could come in any minute.” His heart flips in his chest when she says this time, the promise of this happening again making him lightheaded as she fumbles with his belt buckle. He rests his forehead on her sternum, batting her hands away to finish the job of unbuttoning his jeans and shucking them down with his boxers, just enough for his cock to bounce out, pre-cum smearing over the bottom of his shirt. She works with deft hands, reaching between them to thumb over his leaking slit, rubbing the slickness down his shaft  as he hisses at her delicate touch while at the same time, she’s pulling her panties to the side and moving to hover over his throbbing tip.

His eyes roll back when she slides down on him in one languid move, his fingers gripping harshly into the plush of her ass. It’s almost too much, the fluttering heat of her wrapping him up as she sighs on top of him, lips dragging across his in a broken kiss. And then she starts to move, and Joel thinks this might just be how he dies. It starts with a few tentative swirls, just like the ones he saw her do up on that stage the first time, but that quickly morphs into sweet little bounces that he guides with his hands cupping her ass.

Neither of them speak, only letting out little gasps of pleasure, her uh uh uhs driving him crazy with each bounce. He firms his feet up on the ground, starting to meet her hips with his own thrusts, her back arching at the sensation and a silent cry stretching across her lips. More than anything, he wants to feel her come and he sets his mind on it singularly, bringing one of his hands around to draw sloppy circles over her clit, groaning at the way she spasms around him in response. He brings his other hand up to hold her by the back of the neck, pulling her closer until he can smear his lips across her ear in a hot whisper, low murmurings of how bad he wants it, how good she feels, how he’s dying to see her come for him.

And she does, with a harsh yelp of his name, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades through the fabric of his t-shirt. She slumps in his grip, and it takes all of Joel’s willpower to pull her off of him, finishing himself off with a few frantic strokes of his hand before his spend is smudging across her tensing belly. 

They hold onto each other hard, trying to find stillness after their heady spin of pleasure. Beneath their breathless pants, the dull thrum of music still seeps into the walls from the bar, a reminder of what actually just happened, and how fucked he truly is now that he’s gotten a taste of her. 

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

taglist (lmk if you want added or dropped): @littlelou22 @mydailyhyperfixations @harriedandharassed @amanitacowboy @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beskarandblasters @ariiiloves @swiftispunk @cutesyscreenname @brittmb115 @funnygirlthatgab

[kyriefae]

The Flux/Series 13 was a super fun series. (fair warning; spoilers ahead)

Am I a fan of the fact we were starved for content for so long just to get 6 episodes and a few specials in like what 3 years? No. But the episodes we DID get were so great!

I could feel the intent to inspire wonder in the world-building of the Whoniverse again. I heard lines purposively written to punch out a few cheap laughs while moving the plot forward. These are things that are inherent to the legacy of Doctor Who. Whimsy, coy humor, and satire.

Where certain plot points had fallen short of expectation, it was clear Chibs had taken at least some of that feedback and applied it to making the 13th series a memorable one.

Also:

Karvanista! Who's a good boy?! 🤗 Wait, hold on, maybe that's too presumptuous. Who am I to judge anyone's moral status on appearance alone? 🤭

Such a fun character with a classic Doctor Who "secret backstory". On a deeper fan appreciation perspective, this series was and still very much is a sandbox for creative innovation.

The side characters we met in these 6 episodes felt so well established and grounded in the narrative. Eustacius Jericho facing his death in a poignantly heroic way, Vinder & Bel's love story, Dan's earnest appreciation of Liverpool (and most importantly history), heck even Claire was worth her salt as someone to revolve the story around.

Was she captivating? Well, we're talking about narrative structure here so *clearing throat; failing to hide obvious blushing* no? I mean, no. She's really just a vessel for the Weeping Angels to have a voice which makes for an interesting plot device but it also sidelines her own independent will in the story. Still, when that's a "weak point", you're doing well!

Also, Yaz was incredible and I felt like we were finally able to grasp at her individual companion status. Prior to the departure of "the fam", she was the prototypical companion choice but we were splitting time with Graham & Ryan. A common fear people had before the series came out was the inclusion of Dan Lewis being an obnoxious and obvious replacement for Graham... but I don't believe his presence in the story had that lasting effect.

In fact, I think of the scenes we had with Yaz, Eustacius, and Dan as being a time for Yaz to shine in particular as a leader. Clever, calm, and concerted in her efforts. Yaz's demeanor is the only reason that facet of the journey was successful. Her relationship with the Doctor was empowering in that way we impact others through positive experiences. She pushed herself to become more motivated as our time with her moved along and we were rewarded with a meaningful degree of success in her arc through this story.

Plus her love for the Doctor felt so real; so fated to be one-sided.

Rose's romantic attachment to 9/10 had the advantage of an entire plot built around her; elevating her importance to the Doctor as a being we came to know, for a time, as Bad Wolf.

With Yaz, she is, in fact, an ordinary human who doesn't get to have some immense cosmically significant role with a title that gets plastered across the whole of the universe for the Doctor to piece together like a puzzle. She is an incredibly smart and capable person; she is also mortal.

Say what have you about Yaz + 13 (and I have my opinions too of them never kissing) but the Doctor keeping a distance from Yaz while acknowledging her feelings was still rather intentional and thematically moving.

You learn you're this being known as "The Timeless Child" and you've lost innumerable lifetimes of memories while beings you encounter ON THE REGULAR are persistently trying to tear the universe like a chew toy for their pleasure? Sorry, love. Maybe attachment to a human isn't a wise choice after all...

It's a decision made in a moment and a moment is all Yaz & the Doctor have. It adds levels to the tragedy of a romance with such a being that can travel all of time and space.

"All of time and space but no room for me?"

-a line I may have written for Yaz before it was all over

🥹

Maybe I'll write some fan fiction one day around The Flux. Around 13 & Yaz. Maybe something with Karvanista & a version of the Doctor forgotten to time.

Anywho, I love this show. I love it for all it's many eras. I love it for many different reasons. I truly believe value can be had in finding those aspects of enjoyment even when one Doctor or one era speaks more to us individually because what does the opposite hold? What does boundless criticism of "the writing" ever truly amount to?

The internet is teeming with "expert opinions" on how Doctor Who should have been made after every new season but gods is it the rarest thing to find people who choose to love it for everything it has already been and everything it can always continue to be...

That's all from me for now, my lovelies. 💞 Take care, get a shift on, and snack on something that brings you a little joy. 🍪 Kisses.

[percheduphere]

So...Thoughts on the whole people thinking Sylvie is Aro-Ace? I can kinda see her being Aromantic, but with her mentioning she's more "hedonistic" than Loki and silently hinting that she's Bi too, can't really see her as Asexual. But what do you think?

LET'S TALK ABOUT SYLVIE'S SEXUALITY, HER RELATIONSHIPS WITH LOKI AND MOBIUS, & HER CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE SERIES NARRATIVE

Before I answer this, I think it's important to acknowledge that fictional characters exist for people's comfort and pleasure. I write original fiction, and I would hope that most artists believe in the right of the audience to interpret character to meet their personal needs. To me, canon is a sandbox. Everyone should play with it as they please and not hate on each other. There are more important things in life to worry about. Therefore, if Sylvie reads as Aro-Ace to you and that reading brings you joy, then she is.

This question inherently requires the need to talk about Sylki in this post. I predominantly analyze Lokius, so please, no hate! My number one rule is never yucking someone's yum. Furthermore, Sylvie plays a critical role in Loki's development and the philosophical thrust of the series, of which Mobius also contributes to as the other half of Loki's character arc equation (selflessness and sparing life [Mobius] + free will and revolution [Sylvie]). It would be biased and disingenuous to not acknowledge her contributions to the overarching narrative.

ARO-ACE INTERPRETATION

All right, your question! I can definitely can see Sylvie as being aro-ace. That's a legitimate interpretation based on how she responds to Loki's flirtation and romantic advances. It is also possible that she's an aromantic bisexual. This second possibility is more likely based on the text the audience is given.

THE CANON TEXT

Having said that, I think you're curious about what the source material is trying to say about Sylvie's character and how that influences her sexuality. I believe it's important to remember that external behavior doesn't dictate how someone defines themselves. Closeting and disengagement from intimacy because of trauma are prime examples of this.

The train scene in S1E4 reads as earnest. Loki and Sylvie are both very lonely characters. In this moment, both are trying to connect with someone who finally understands them because they are the same. It's actually a lovely nod to the queer experience.

The dialogue, lighting, and costuming (blue, purple, pink) in this scene communicates they are both queer, specifically bisexual. The lighting and costuming combining to represent the bisexual pride flag is an example of queer subtext in film. The dialogue, while direct, is also written in such a way that it avoids explicitly stating "men and women." Sylvie later comments that the brief flings she indulges in during apocalypses helped her "keep going". She even specifies that apocalypses make people desperate. This suggests that Sylvie likely didn't need to do much wooing or charming like Loki would to obtain a sexual partner. Finally, the way Tom and Sophie play this scene is vulnerable. I therefore believe we can take this on-screen admission at face value.

So the question becomes, why does Sylvie respond to Loki's flirtations the way she does?

SYLVIE'S BACKGROUND

Sylvie was orphaned and forced to run all her life from a very young age. Her backstory is deeply tragic. To live in such a way means that she never had the opportunity to experience adolescence.

NOTE: This is honestly my favorite gif of Sylvie. She's so sweet and cute when she's happy. I can't get over the 5 stars on her employee badge. "Sylvie, can you refill the straws?" "Already did it!" The sweetheart.

Sylvie working at McDonald's accomplishes two things: it allows Disney to fulfill their advertising sponsorship agreement for the fast-food franchise, and it subtly alludes to Sylvie's need to live the adolescence she didn't get to. The TVA forced her into arrested development. She never had the chance to make friends and safely socialize on her own terms. The centuries of trauma have made trust, let alone romance, completely foreign to her.

Which is why, when Loki and Sylvie have romantic scenes, she is often awkward or, if not unreceptive, wary. Her previous flings, as she agrees with Loki, were "never real". Physical intimacy without emotional intimacy is a familiar dynamic for both characters. Their relationship with one another is their first experience of emotional intimacy (or at least attempt at it) outside of their families. The pursuit of this emotional intimacy feels safe to them because they are the same entity and thus they know each other's base nature (versus nurture!) to some degree.

The difference between them is that Sylvie has not experienced social rejection in the way Loki has (nurture!). She recognizes the wrongness with which the TVA has treated her. She knows the absolute atrocities the TVA has committed. She is determined to destroy them to free herself and all timelines. Sylvie is consequently more self-assured, more confident in what she wants and believes in, than Loki. In S2, Sylvie's clarity on desire is what allows her to help Loki articulate what he wants: his friends back, most especially Mobius.

In S1E1, Loki, still posturing before Mobius, describes himself as a "liberator". At this point in the story, we know that isn't true, but it will become true by the finale. This line of dialogue foreshadows Loki's trajectory as well as Sylvie's revealed motivation in S1E4: to liberate.

THE NEXUS EVENT

There are a variety of ways for viewers to interpret what exactly the Nexus Event was. The canon, within the text of Mobius's dialogue and verbal confirmation from the creators, is that Loki and Sylvie fell in love. Now, I'm not going to spend time arguing over other interpretations here, but I will say that regardless of whatever pairing or OT3 a viewer ships, the Nexus Event was ALSO definitively this: two Lokis in the same place, at the same time, not feeling lonely together.

And Sylvie, who had confessed to Loki she has no friends and has never really experienced joy, answers Renslayer with the number of positive memories she has:

Sylvie doesn't state it outright, but the subtext is clear that her one positive memory was her time with Loki on Lamentis. Indeed, moments later, Sylvie prunes herself in an effort to find and rescue him.

SYLVIE & MOBIUS

But being the harshly pragmatic individual she is, upon arrival and encountering Alioth, Sylvie assumes Loki didn't make it. I don't think Sylvie means what she says in a cruel way. I think she believes this because she is accustomed to disappointment and accordingly guards herself with cynicism. Sylvie's traumas, her difficulty with trust, her inexperience with intimate relationships, and her cynicism all combine to create an individual who may appear aro-ace when that may not necessarily be the case. Please note, however, that Sylvie being aro-ace or aro-bisexual may still be a possibility. My analysis here is based on what the text and subtext seem to be telling us about her character.

Notably, it is Mobius who is more optimistic about Loki's survival, wondering if Sylvie truly believes that Loki is dead.

This moment is brief, but it is significant because Mobius's optimism implies that not only does he believe in Loki, he also wants Loki to be alive. Sylvie is intelligent. She can read between the lines. We can also assume an off-screen conversation took place between them that confirmed for Sylvie Mobius's genuine care for Loki. When Sylvie informs Loki of this fact, I believe we get this:

Mobius was conservative in how Loki might interpret their relationship, extending a handshake before their goodbyes. Loki, on the heels of his conversation with Sylvie, chooses to hug him instead. The result: Mobius is delighted!

I've long pondered on why Mobius would say, "You're my favorite" to Sylvie. I believe this is why: she helped along their friendship and opened the gates for physical affection between them. This demonstrates that Sylvie cares enough for Loki to ensure he is secure in his bond with Mobius. It likely helped that Mobius did not deny the TVA's evil when she pointed it out to him, and that he did not hesitate to apologize to her for it.

Ironically, it is Mobius's optimism, especially in the potential of broken things to become something better (whether it is Loki himself or the TVA), that creates the fraught philosophical divide between Sylvie and Mobius (and Loki) with regards to the TVA in S2.

THE S1 FINALE

The S2 finale is where the narrative between Loki and Sylvie turns, and the plot pivots to the deepening relationship between Loki and Mobius. Triggering this event is Loki's desire to slow down and think about the consequences of killing HWR in the Citadel at The End of Time.

This may seem out-of-character at first glance. S1E1-E4 have demonstrated that Loki's decision making is sometimes chaotic by virtue of impulse. What was the last impulsive decision he made with heavy consequences?

He ran off after Sylvie. A good decision ultimately, as Loki learns the truth about the TVA through Sylvie, but only by luck. This decision very nearly cost Loki a friendship, one he didn't even realize he had until Mobius called him a "bad friend."

Despite the fallout, Mobius recovers relatively quickly once he confirms Loki's claims and views Ravonna's recording of C-20. He reestablishes trust with Loki as soon as possible to help Loki be with the one he loves. Why? Because Mobius is ultimately selfless and wants Loki's happiness regardless of his own feelings of jealousy.

Which circles us back to the theme of trust and Sylvie's challenges with it.

Loki and Sylvie's relationship falls apart not because of lack of mutual interest, but because Sylvie loses trust in Loki and with good reason: HWR (and thus the TVA) is the cause of all her suffering.

It is not Sylvie's fault she is this way. She hasn't had enough time to develop meaningful relationships, and the one relationship that was meaningful to her (Loki's) became, in her eyes, a profound betrayal. This experience only adds to the other traumas Sylvie carries with her, making encounters with Loki in S2 emotionally difficult if not triggering.

The relationships of Loki & Sylvie and Loki & Mobius are intentionally set side-by-side for 3 critical reasons:

1.) To demonstrate Loki's growth by developing trust and thus emotional intimacy with others.

2.) To create the Plot B emotional source of conflict in S2.

3.) To set-up Mobius and Sylvie's individual beliefs and values (selflessness and sparing life [Mobius] + free will and revolution [Sylvie]), which Loki combines into his own system of beliefs and values. This combination gives Loki the strength and wisdom to ascend the throne and become the God of Stories (and Time).

THE S2 FINALE

Loki comes to his final decision after speaking with the two halves of his character arc equation. Loki first seeks out Mobius, who shares with him the distinction between himself and Ravonna. Now, this is brainwashed Mobius. Brainwashed Mobius believed Ravonna could do the impossible while he couldn't. But Loki knows Ravonna's corruption.

Beneath Mobius's wisdom that "most purpose is more burden than glory" is also Mobius's heart: he could not prune children and that instinct was the right decision. His "failure" was not a failure of duty but rather his humanity succeeding despite the brainwashing. It's this same intrinsic compassion that drove Mobius to convince Ravonna to spare Loki. Loki articulates this to Don as such. He therefore takes the message of selflessness and sparing life from Mobius to Sylvie.

Sylvie, in turn, challenges Loki, stating they should have the freedom and right to fight whatever comes on their own terms.

She also stresses that it is all right to destroy things. Upon hearing this, Loki comes to the conclusion that what is destroyed must be replaced with something better. What needs to be destroyed? Not the TVA and the people in it (not Mobius, Verity, OB, and Casey), but the Loom.

Loki sacrificed himself (selflessness + sparing life [Mobius]) in order to save all timelines (free will + revolution [Sylvie]). Loki sparing Sylvie's life is a direct consequence of Mobius having fought to spare his.

Through this sacrifice, Loki gifts Sylvie the chance to get the type of positive experiences she wants and needs, which includes future romance, if she so chooses. That is canon and is a genuinely romantic gesture regardless of anyone's interpretation of mutual reciprocation or lack thereof.

It is also canon that Loki loves Mobius and Mobius loves Loki. Their actions for one another across both seasons demonstrate this to be true. Is it also romantic? Absolutely. Is it sexual? On screen, no, and it doesn't have to be. Romance does not require sex, let alone physical contact, to exist.

Loki loves them both.

[anlian-aishang]

Kinktober Day 11: Virgin!Levi + Fellatio

Tags: levi x reader, smut, oral sex (levi receiving), virgin!levi, gn!reader Word count: 1400

Levi had dreamt of this so many times - but it would be many more until he gained the confidence to tell you that. Your head between his legs, your mouth dwindling at his tip, eyelashes batted over your sultry yet innocent gaze: when it came to the filthiest acts, your intentions were pure. 

“Don’t worry,” I won’t bite, “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Though this was your first time together, you were confident in your ability to achieve that goal. Having imagined this for so long, having practiced in ways you were ashamed to admit, now that you had finally made your way to Levi Ackerman’s lap, you knew to make the most of the setting that countless others would kill for. 

Exhilarated exhales descended on his length as you awaited his consent, they were what enticed him to it. The sensation they spurred was addictive, a satisfying current on his skin. They communicated a shared sentiment: as Levi handed you his pleasure and as you took his body in your hands, you were just as nervous yet just as excited as he was. His arm staggered on his way to pet your head. Cupping you in his palm, he dared to pull you closer, wordlessly welcoming you to traverse that last distance. 

Your fingertips shook in their hold of his thighs, crescent divots pricked his skin in the places you pressed. Gradually, you traced your touch inward and inward, simultaneous on each side, aiming to offer predictability to an experience unpredictable for your virgin. As you crept inch by inch, you admired his precum spilled proportionately over. Glistening in his own arousal, and you hadn’t even gotten there yet. 

When you did, you made sure to move slowly, but even then - Levi’s heart rate accelerated quickly. Heels ground into the floor, legs shaking, you thought to grant him a break, but that was the last thing on his mind. Levi reached over your bare shoulders and anchored his nails to your nape. It would leave marks in the morning, but neither of you cared, grateful for them actually, as they roped you to what you both desired. Left hand pinned his hip in place as your right hand began to work him. He was still not used to another’s touch, but he clenched his teeth to subdue the evidence of that. Adorably obvious, though, was when you finally gave him your mouth. At the first swipe of your tongue, his jaw fell open, near shrieks escaping. Pressing your lips to his shaft drew harsh panting accented by mewls and whines. As you circled your lips around him, summoning even more shameful sounds, you could not help but snicker: Yeah, this is your first time.

Levi did not mind your smirk. In fact, it sparked a welcome sensation. You supposed that the most erotic contexts could be like the most platonic ones: all the mistakes you made, throughout tonight and your greater relationship, Levi had come to adore them. When you gagged on him, he relished the tightness of your throat. When you choked, he recognized your devotion and commitment: how intensely you would sacrifice oxygen for one more ounce of his pleasure. Taking breaks for air exposed him to the outside, reminders of how much better the inside of your mouth felt, helping him to enjoy it that much more. 

Between bobs, you winked one eye open and allowed yourself a selfish sight. The arc of his cock was steep, coated generously in your saliva. Veins of his V risen as blood rushed to the area of the hour. Along that journey, his nerves had summited mountains of abdominal muscles, their morning dew made in his sweat. Toes curled, chest heaving. Head thrown back, hands trembling. He was strung out from top to bottom, but in between, you noticed one area neglected. Below the base of his solidity was his most sensitive spot: a bundle of nerves you could knead in one hand. Knuckles dipped into the mattress, granting you the space to sneak your hand beneath and hold him.

Not only displaying his most vulnerable self, but letting you play with it - his head spun to understand how it brought him so much pleasure. Relinquishing control, for the man who so perpetually clung to it, somehow brought him more serotonin than ever. Ringing in his ears threatened to drown out the sounds of your love, along with all former doubts, Levi shook his head in an attempt to shoo it away. 

You mistook that motion: his strife to indulge more, you interpreted as a plea to halt. Instantly, you snapped your hand away from his middle. Immediately after, you popped him out of your mouth and apologized, panicked, “Sorry.” 

“N’No,” Levi stuttered. Briefly, he managed to see through his squint, just enough to find your hand and bring it back between his legs. “It’s just…” Levi grit his teeth in strain, “I haven’t…”

Done this before? You knew that already - all his firsts having been with you. 

His confession was different, though, and even more satiating. Levi whined, “Felt this good -” a deep sigh from his diaphragm, “- in a long time…”

Your eyes widened, shocked by the admission of his pleasure, nearly in disbelief that you had blissed him out to this end, but his body provided irrefutable proof. Calm was a typical look on Levi - a man difficult to shake, but this was the first time he had donned this level of serenity: eyes rolled back and fluttered shut, lips parted, shoulders loosened and untensed. In a world that he found so endlessly irritating, with you, in your mouth, all seemed to feel right. With his tip on your tongue, his salt on your tastebuds, even as his length threatened your airway, you agreed: this was your version of heaven on earth. By your mouth around his member, you were edging him towards his. 

Fingernails scraped your scalp in a crude massage. Not calm music, but swears and gasps its background noise. You felt him rise to the roof of your mouth, arousal overflowed and pooling. “Sh’Shit, (Y/N)...” Levi moaned. Toes pointed to the floor as he attempted to ground his speech, “You’re… You’re too good at this…”

Too good that he could not withstand it. Too good that he could not hold out any longer. You thought of those words differently: too good for the wrong reasons? You had not done this many times before, but of course your virgin would have found your oral remarkable. Mouth traded roles with your hand. Pumping him, you gazed up and smiled assuredly, “Just for you, Levi.”

“Fuck!” How that did it for him. Floodgates rose, hips thrust forward in preparation. As his first nerves began to pulse, his thoughts grew incoherent - his speech even more so, only one priority shining through:

“P’Please… your… your mouth…!”

You were a professional at reading his mind. It was what had brought you here. Even in the climax of it all, your literacy remained, understanding what he was so adorably trying to get out. Answering his plea, your smile deliberately morphed back to envelop his erection. Brows knit in determination, speed rapid with purpose. Base of your hand met the small of his back, forcing him to depths he was too compassionate to reach on his own. As his head slid down your throat, your tongue slid beneath his shaft. Bringing your head back and forth, you did the fucking for him. Lie back. Relax. Cum down my fucking throat.

“F-uck!! Oh, fuck!! (Y/N)!!” His screams and your sucking made a stark, audible imbalance to the night otherwise so sensual. With the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through his veins and the white-hot strands that warmed your insides, neither of you found fault in that symphony. His taste was too immaculate, his volume so enlightening, you swallowed everything but your swelling pride: he had been saving himself for you. Your thirst was so desperate, your body so eager, Levi groaned in fulfillment: you loved him - all of him. 

That love was left unspoken, yet wholly understood. Perhaps you two neat freaks had your own crass way - how you slowly licked and savored the messy drops off your lips, how he hoisted you atop his sweaty body and spoke against your sex, “Up for another first?”

Levi had dreamt of this so many times - but it would be many more until he gained the confidence to tell you that. Your head between his legs, your mouth dwindling at his tip, eyelashes batted over your sultry yet innocent gaze: when it came to the filthiest acts, your intentions were pure. 

“Don’t worry,” I won’t bite, “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Though this was your first time together, you were confident in your ability to achieve that goal. Having imagined this for so long, having practiced in ways you were ashamed to admit, now that you had finally made your way to Levi Ackerman’s lap, you knew to make the most of the setting that countless others would kill for. 

Exhilarated exhales descended on his length as you awaited his consent, they were what enticed him to it. The sensation they spurred was addictive, a satisfying current on his skin. They communicated a shared sentiment: as Levi handed you his pleasure and as you took his body in your hands, you were just as nervous yet just as excited as he was. His arm staggered on his way to pet your head. Cupping you in his palm, he dared to pull you closer, wordlessly welcoming you to traverse that last distance. 

Your fingertips shook in their hold of his thighs, crescent divots pricked his skin in the places you pressed. Gradually, you traced your touch inward and inward, simultaneous on each side, aiming to offer predictability to an experience unpredictable for your virgin. As you crept inch by inch, you admired his precum spilled proportionately over. Glistening in his own arousal, and you hadn’t even gotten there yet. 

When you did, you made sure to move slowly, but even then - Levi’s heart rate accelerated quickly. Heels ground into the floor, legs shaking, you thought to grant him a break, but that was the last thing on his mind. Levi reached over your bare shoulders and anchored his nails to your nape. It would leave marks in the morning, but neither of you cared, grateful for them actually, as they roped you to what you both desired. Left hand pinned his hip in place as your right hand began to work him. He was still not used to another’s touch, but he clenched his teeth to subdue the evidence of that. Adorably obvious, though, was when you finally gave him your mouth. At the first swipe of your tongue, his jaw fell open, near shrieks escaping. Pressing your lips to his shaft drew harsh panting accented by mewls and whines. As you circled your lips around him, summoning even more shameful sounds, you could not help but snicker: Yeah, this is your first time.

Levi did not mind your smirk. In fact, it sparked a welcome sensation. You supposed that the most erotic contexts could be like the most platonic ones: all the mistakes you made, throughout tonight and your greater relationship, Levi had come to adore them. When you gagged on him, he relished the tightness of your throat. When you choked, he recognized your devotion and commitment: how intensely you would sacrifice oxygen for one more ounce of his pleasure. Taking breaks for air exposed him to the outside, reminders of how much better the inside of your mouth felt, helping him to enjoy it that much more. 

Between bobs, you winked one eye open and allowed yourself a selfish sight. The arc of his cock was steep, coated generously in your saliva. Veins of his V risen as blood rushed to the area of the hour. Along that journey, his nerves had summited mountains of abdominal muscles, their morning dew made in his sweat. Toes curled, chest heaving. Head thrown back, hands trembling. He was strung out from top to bottom, but in between, you noticed one area neglected. Below the base of his solidity was his most sensitive spot: a bundle of nerves you could knead in one hand. Knuckles dipped into the mattress, granting you the space to sneak your hand beneath and hold him.

Not only displaying his most vulnerable self, but letting you play with it - his head spun to understand how it brought him so much pleasure. Relinquishing control, for the man who so perpetually clung to it, somehow brought him more serotonin than ever. Ringing in his ears threatened to drown out the sounds of your love, along with all former doubts, Levi shook his head in an attempt to shoo it away. 

You mistook that motion: his strife to indulge more, you interpreted as a plea to halt. Instantly, you snapped your hand away from his middle. Immediately after, you popped him out of your mouth and apologized, panicked, “Sorry.” 

“N’No,” Levi stuttered. Briefly, he managed to see through his squint, just enough to find your hand and bring it back between his legs. “It’s just…” Levi grit his teeth in strain, “I haven’t…”

Done this before? You knew that already - all his firsts having been with you. 

His confession was different, though, and even more satiating. Levi whined, “Felt this good -” a deep sigh from his diaphragm, “- in a long time…”

Your eyes widened, shocked by the admission of his pleasure, nearly in disbelief that you had blissed him out to this end, but his body provided irrefutable proof. Calm was a typical look on Levi - a man difficult to shake, but this was the first time he had donned this level of serenity: eyes rolled back and fluttered shut, lips parted, shoulders loosened and untensed. In a world that he found so endlessly irritating, with you, in your mouth, all seemed to feel right. With his tip on your tongue, his salt on your tastebuds, even as his length threatened your airway, you agreed: this was your version of heaven on earth. By your mouth around his member, you were edging him towards his. 

Fingernails scraped your scalp in a crude massage. Not calm music, but swears and gasps its background noise. You felt him rise to the roof of your mouth, arousal overflowed and pooling. “Sh’Shit, (Y/N)...” Levi moaned. Toes pointed to the ground as he attempted to ground his speech, “You’re… You’re too good at this…”

Too good that he could not withstand it. Too good that he could not hold out any longer. You thought of those words differently: too good for the wrong reasons? You had not done this many times before, but of course your virgin would have found your oral remarkable. Mouth traded roles with your hand. Pumping him, you gazed up and smiled assuredly, “Just for you, Levi.”

“Fuck!” How that did it for him. Floodgates rose, hips thrust forward in preparation. As his first nerves began to pulse, his thoughts grew incoherent - his speech even more so, only one priority shining through:

“P’Please… your… your mouth…!”

You were a professional at reading his mind. It was what had brought you here. Even in the climax of it all, your literacy remained, understanding what he was so adorably trying to get out. Answering his plea, your smile deliberately morphed back to envelop his erection. Brows knit in determination, speed rapid with purpose. Base of your hand met the small of his back, forcing him to depths he was too compassionate to reach on his own. As his head slid down your throat, your tongue slid beneath his shaft. Bringing your head back and forth, you did the fucking for him. Lie back. Relax. Cum down my fucking throat.

“F-uck!! Oh, fuck!! (Y/N)!!” His screams and your sucking made a stark, audible imbalance to the night otherwise so sensual. With the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through his veins and the white-hot strands that warmed your insides, neither of you found fault in that symphony. His taste was too immaculate, his volume so enlightening, you swallowed everything but your swelling pride: he had been saving himself for you. Your thirst was so desperate, your body so eager, Levi groaned in fulfillment: you loved him - all of him. 

That love was left unspoken, yet wholly understood. Perhaps you two neat freaks had your own crass way - how you slowly licked and savored the messy drops off your lips, how he hoisted you atop his sweaty body and spoke against your sex, “Up for another first?”

Kinktober Year 3 Masterlist

[diegowife]

Guts ( Millennium Falcon / Fantasia Arc)

Guts As Your Boyfriend SCENARIO

A Bit Yandere ¿

Contains MANGA SPOILERS

( REMINDER! ) This is NOT connected with the Golden Age Arc ( Part 1 ).

Part 1 : Pre-Eclipse

• During the relationship, Guts displayed a noticeable lack of enthusiasm and was not particularly talkative. Moreover, he struggled with maintaining lasting romantic connections and admitted to being less than proficient in this domain. His discomfort with ongoing intimate interaction was evident.

• You remain the most significant individual in Guts' life despite the tranquility he experienced while being in your presence.

• Demonstrating his dedication to you, physical contact emerges as the foremost and conspicuous means. Whether through gentle caresses on the head, tousling of your hair, or embracing you from behind, he conveys his affection.

• Despite this fact, when you suddenly embrace him, he may become somewhat bewildered. This could be attributed to the limited experience he had in receiving hugs or displays of affection during his childhood.

• When it comes to processing his emotions or receiving honest declarations of love, he tends to struggle and demonstrate rather unfavorable behavior.

• A favored and swift gesture of Guts is to place tender kisses upon your forehead. Whether in departure or amid a battle with an apostle, this affectionate act brings him joy. The sensation of his lips lightly caressing your warm forehead is also cherished by him.

• Despite being somewhat lacking in terms of kissing skills, he thoroughly enjoys receiving hugs. He finds them particularly necessary, especially during instances when he is actively experiencing a terrifying nightmare or being persistently pursued by a relentless entity within his dreams.

• Insecurity often plagues Guts due to the loss of his right eye and left arm. He is unable to fully perceive your majestic presence with both his eyes, nor can he embrace or cuddle you effectively without his left arm.

• “Never would I be able to cease gazing upon you if my right eye still remained with me...”

• “If there's a way where I could restore my left arm, I would gladly hug you ceaselessly throughout the day, causing you to struggle for breath.”

• In return, the way you indulging him as the little spoon brings him great delight, with little regard for his characteristics or the absence of other features.

• Furthermore, Guts took great pleasure in observing you as you compared your tiny hands to his own. He playfully mocked your stature and expressed his hopes for you to surpass him in height.

• “What a midget. Can you at least grow an inch taller than me?”

• Guts' sleep patterns are usually limited to daytime hours. His neck bore the scars of brands, haunting him with nightmares and causing him to experience PTSD, thus preventing him from obtaining decent rest at night.

• In one of his nightmares, the idea of you abandoning him fills him with revulsion. It seems as though you continuously eluded him or attempted to break free from his clutches, further intensifying his aversion.

• In the same way, his greatest fear resides in the idea of you betraying him, much like his closest companions once did. The notion of placing excessive trust in you fills him with dread, as he is haunted by the possibility of another act of betrayal.

• In his affection, he will always perceive and observe you without any apprehension towards his own well-being. Hence, he continues to regard you as reliable and unproblematic.

• “In this vast world, where thousands of humans and apostles reside, you stand out as an exception. Can I assume that you won't follow the same path as everyone else, will you?”

• When the moment arrived to present a gift, he would frequently seek Schierke and Farnese for suggestions.

• Subsequently, an inventive notion would emerge from their minds, wherein Guts would grant you a mystical stone conjured by the magical abilities of Schierke.

• Upon receiving the stone, Guts couldn't suppress his smile of admiration at witnessing your appreciation for the gift he had bestowed upon you.

• The stone's discovery, he would deceive you about it.

• “It seems that you quite enjoyed it, didn't you? I must say I am pleased about it. If only I could accumulate it further and present it to you...”

• Observing him smile is a rare occurrence, but the subtle curvature of his lips, exclusively directed towards you, instantly sparks a sensation of being uniquely valued.

• Puck, the mischievous little companion, often draws attention away from Guts, igniting feelings of envy within him. Guts' emotions are further aggravated as Puck relishes in mocking him.

• In light of Guts persistently taunting and repeatedly demanding Puck's silence, this can be perceived as an act motivated by revenge from Puck.

• “Y/n, don't waste your time talking with that little shit.”

• “Pardon me! What was that name you just referred to me as, Mr. Nuts The Madman!?” Puck raised his voice, crossed his arms, and averted his gaze.

• Guts also possess a great deal of jealousy towards the excessive concern and care that Serpico, Schierke, and Farnese exhibit towards you. They frequently inquire about your well-being and assume responsibility for your welfare during illness.

• Considering that you don't have any abilities and are just a regular human being... that Guts will protect from the bottom of his heart.

• Isidro, in a similar fashion, will express admiration towards you and persistently request Guts for permission to marry you. Consequently, Guts will proceed to discipline Isidro by subjecting him to a time-out, wherein Isidro will be securely bound to a tree and left undisturbed.

• “Guts! Are you kidding me?! Y/n, help me!!!”

• “Tch serves you right, puny little runt.”

• Furthermore, Guts is a person who tends to overanalyze situations. Whenever he witnesses you feeling upset or, in the worst-case scenario, crying, he will instinctively attribute the blame to himself.

• Your tears are a complete turn-off for him, as they evoke memories of his childhood. Essentially, every aspect of your presence resonates with his youthful past.

• Initially, his curiosity will be piqued upon witnessing you have emotionally broken as you steadfastly decline any form of communication or elucidation with him.

• When he saw tears streaming down your face...

• It will constantly trigger him.

• Perpetually shattering is his heart whenever the thought of it crosses his mind; he holds the belief that he is a disappointment to his late father.

• When witnessing his lover's tears, can the blame be placed on him?

• In the depths of his thoughts, there has been no solace bestowed upon him by anyone. Absolutely nobody. He was firmly deserted, bereft of any companionship.

• In what manner should he navigate people's emotions? It has become customary for him to observe civilians experiencing breakdowns due to the apostle's destruction of their villages.

• In due course, hesitantly drawing you nearer, he envelops you with his arms around your waist and rests his chin atop your head. Subsequently, he proceeds to wipe each tear gently and ensures no remnants are remaining.

• Guts remains indifferent to whether or not you wish to explain to him. It is of no importance to him if you choose not to share or release your emotions.

• To ease your mind, Guts will grant you a portion of a gift he presently possesses once you have settled down.

• "Don't be sad. Take a look at this jewelry that was generously bestowed upon me by Farnese. They serve as a token of appreciation for my courageous role as one of her esteemed warriors."

• After the development of the Berserker Armor, Schierke takes extra precautions to prevent Guts from approaching you in any way. Moreover, she emphasizes the importance of keeping a distance.

• In the presence of your company, Guts harbors a fear of relinquishing control over his Berserker Armor. It is a concern that at any given moment, he may impulsively obliterate you without allowing rational thought to guide his actions.

• Ordinarily, Guts would have an intense anger when an apostle approached and attempted to separate you from him. Ultimately, he would slaughter the vile creature with a single blow of his sword.

• With every moment you drift off to sleep, he is fully conscious of observing each contour of your body. Also, with utmost certainty, he would ensure your safety and prevent anyone from causing harm or separating you from his presence.

• Observing your intense shivering, Guts' left eye widened, prompting him to remove his cloak and tenderly envelop you within its comforting fabric.

• Furthermore, he longed to recline beside you and experience the comforting sensation generated by the warmth emanating from your physique.

• In his dreams, he is filled with fear that if he snuggles up to you, apostles will come after him. Consequently, he may inadvertently unleash his Berserker Armor, losing control over it. This poses a risk of unintentionally harming you while you are asleep.

• While you peacefully doze, he exhibits his capability solely in the gentle stroking of your hands.

• Without your knowledge, he will softly utter something inaudible.

• “I love you, although you can't hear my words right now...”

• “I'll be with you... for eternity.”

Thank you so much for reading !

Sorry if there are any terrible grammar mistakes. English is not my first language.

;(

[alexrosekey]

Hermione-centric and HP World Building Expansion edition

A late entry from me. Beware that this list is based on my personal preference. If you don't like the ships, remember the rule - don't like don't read. Ship and let ship!

That being said, it has been a while since the last time I've come up with a rec list. But reccing great fanfics has remained one of my greatest passion. Having decided to fully integrated myself into the Harry Potter fandom again, I'm amazed at how creative and talented the authors of this fandom are. There are a plethora of interesting ideas and premises, with various themes and genres along with inquisitive, thoughtful observation regarding the characters and the world building of Harry Potter.

Without further ado, let's dive in to my submission for today's @hprecfest prompt: fics with over 100k+ words. All the fics below are Hermione-centric (one less than the other two but still), with amazing social commentaries on the HP world and impeccable observation on the magical world, which to me are the best aspect of HP fic.

unsphere the stars by @cocoartistwrites (M, 222,827, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle)

When you can't change time, but you can't go forward, what is left? Hermione learns how to be the protagonist of her own story.

To quote one of the bookmarks: Hermione is more than she ever was. This story is a journey of Hermione to grow, to love and to explore magic and its beauty more than she could ever be. Don't let the pairing deter you, this is no doubt one of the most memorable fanfic reading experience I have in my years of being in fandoms. Hermione and Tom are both portrayed spectacularly and thoughtfully, and the prose are some of the most poetic I've ever seen.

To sum up the whole of my reading experience, I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling for 30 mins after reading the last chapter, completely shell-shocked.

All I could say is, if you want an astounding character arc for Hermione, with in-depth magical system and immersive world building, plus interesting OCs and breathtaking writing, then this fic is definitely for you!

*This fic could also be placed under the prompt of Day 7: A Canon-Compliant Fic.

2. What's Past is Prologue by ABitofWit (E, 244,611, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy)

It's eight years after the war and Hermione Granger has taken a break from her career at the Ministry of Magic to compile an oral history of the conflict. She's interviewed just about everyone she can get her hands on but she wants to be thorough. And that means getting in contact with a very unwilling Lucius Malfoy.

Listen, I know the pairing is weird as fuck. I know, I had my doubt too before reading it. But the raving bookmarks convinced me to give this a chance. And boy, it was one of the best decisions I've ever made.

This fic is more than just a ship fic, it's about love and what we would do for it, the greyness of life and choices, of redemption and finding one's self worth outside of pre-existing, archaic ideas and values. It's about change and how we're never too old to learn. WPIP is everything I've ever wanted in a fic, emotional, sincere, humorous, gorgeous, sexy, steamy and sweet. Full of heart and soul.

Most of all, the development of and between Hermione and Lucius is so natural and makes a lot of sense, without them being OOC. This fic reminds me that Hermione is not at all flawless (the opposite of the usual Mary-Sue, little-miss-perfect trope that Hermione tends to be portrayed in fics), while successfully humanizes and makes Lucius Malfoy one of the most interesting HP characters in my eyes. (Who would have thought that I've spent years not giving a jot about this guy, only to fall in love with such a mess of a man like him??)

Combine with sharp commentaries and observations on the British Wizarding World, Wizarding politics and a not-canon folder supporting cast, this is no doubt one of the best HP fic, and one of the best fanfic I've ever had the pleasure to read.

*This fic could also be placed under the prompt of Day 2: A Comfort Fic and Day 9: A Rare Pair Fic.

3. Six Pomegranate Seeds by Seselt (E, 185,965, no pairing but implied Theodore Nott/Hermione Granger)

At the end, something happened. Hermione clutches at one fraying thread, uncertain whether she is Arachne or Persephone. What she does know is that she will keep fighting to protect her friends even if she must walk a dark path.

Sooo, this is one very weird fic. One of the oddest fics I've ever encoutered, in fact. I've read it twice, one before I read the book series in full, one after I've finished the books. And let me tell you, SPS is a stunning work.

The odd, floating third-person POV, the dry and sharp, straightforward tone of Hermione. Her competency, her compassion despite all the pain and the emotional repression. This is definitely not your usual time travel fix-it fic.

Most of Hermione's work happened in tandem with the 7 books' main storyline. Hermione's soul is put into the body of a young orphan Pureblood heiress. This gives the fic one of the most interesting spin on the Hermione-is-a-pureblood trope.

Through Hermione, we have a closer look into the background and the context of the main events of the books, plus a deeper understanding of the Pureblood society and a much more sympathetic view into the students Slytherin house. All without whitewashing and offsetting the corruption and the effects of the Purebloods and the Slytherins' stuffy, archaic views on not only the young generation of students but also the British Wizarding world.

I lost count of the amount of time I slapped my knees while reading this work the second time whenever I encountered a particularly sharp line of thought/commentary from Hermione in this fic. I'm also amazed at how much work and research the author has put into SPS, particularly in terms of making up tons of new magical theories and the use of exotic and lesser known vocabulary (seriously, if you decide to read this one, prepare a dictionary next to you, or get ready to regularly stop mid reading in order to look up certain words 😆)

*This fic could also be placed under the prompt of Day 7: A Canon-Compliant Fic.

That being said, thank you for checking out my list! Thank the admins of @hprecfest for holding such a fun activity. Feel free to join in yourself. Happy reading 💋

Day 16: A fic that made you laughed

Day 19: Fic with the hottest smut

Day 22: An unfinished fic (hasn't updated in 10 years or the author stated it has been abandoned)

Day 26: A fic with an ending you can't stop thinking about

[meadowlarkx]

Some March fic recs!

For Tolkien Fanfic Reading Month! Limiting myself to stories I read in March (but posted anytime). (header by Anna Zakharova on Unsplash)

picnic by @swanmaids - A bored and reckless Aredhel goes to Vána's orchards seeking adventure and has an experience. This lush and sexy fic feels like a warm summer afternoon. I love how seductive and eerie Vána is here!

Kiss and Marry by @thecoolblackwaves - Have you ever looked at Celegorm and Curufin and thought, "They should be the stars of a romcom"? No? This fic is here to reveal that wonder to you.

弄假成真 by Divano_Messiah - Maglor has been telling people at school that he has a boyfriend. Maedhros is jealous until he learns who it is. (I admit I read this via google translate, you can too...)

Envy by @polutrope - In Tirion, Maglor and Elemmírë struggle to handle each other's reputations with equanimity. The people around them try to respond. This fic is so funny and sweet--I love this take on Elemmírë and Fëanor's guest appearance is hilariously him.

Youthful Regrets by kitkatkaylie - Turgon and Maglor fall in love in Valinor before Turgon's engagement to Elenwë. I really like the personality contrasts of this ship, with Turgon opening up to Maglor, and how this story sketches out their relationship through the whole arc of Silm to its bitter separation.

I risk my life to make my name by @maironsbigboobs - The brave knight Galadriel goes on a journey to meet the Green Woman Melian and her fate, ft. adventures along the way. I love how Tolkien is blended with Arthurian conventions here--it works so well and brings out the myth vibes of Silm that I love so much!

Strange Currencies chapter 12 by @jouissants - This is such a beautifully-crafted tale in every regard, but I want to especially mention this flashback chapter I read in March, covering Maedhros' and Maglor's voyage on the swan ships up to just before Fëanor's death. The horror of the Fëanorian Noldor arriving in the dark with their distrust, inflated ego, and total lack of knowledge of Middle-earth comes through here so, so vividly--this part can be read by itself, go check it out!!

Oubliette by Stramonium - Horrifying and so vividly written scene of Maedhros in Angband, isolation, and monstrosity. Poetic and awful, I can't do it justice in summarizing it.

arrangement for flute and harp by @jouissants - Maedhros is determined to work late, so Maglor and Fingon decide to entertain each other. The Himring atmosphere and incredible character dynamics make this also really sexy smut such a wonderful story.

whatever you would crave by @eight-pointed-star - Sooo sexy ficlet in which Fingon and Maedhros attend to Maglor's Needs. Short but immensely powerful.

scherzo for ink and parchment by @dovewifes - Charming and comedic missives exchanged between Maedhros and Maglor during the Long Peace, ft. romantic endearments and the invention of emojis. Maedhros' so-apparent love for Maglor is something I especially cherish about this fun fic.

Star-kissed by @aipilosse - Celeborn of Doriath rescues recently-of-Gondolin (and silver-haired!) Celebrimbor from a predicament in Nan Dungortheb. Incredibly clever, funny, and hot!

Purification by @zealouswerewolfcollector - Thingol is curious about Maedhros: throne sex ensues. A favorite ship of mine in a flavor I'd never considered. Incredibly intense and super well-written.

Comfort from a Heavy Hand by @undercat-overdog - After the Bragollach, Mablung tends to an injured Beleg, and they seek comfort together. The wreckage and destruction of the battle feels so vivid in this one, and the dynamic of Beleg/Mablung as past teacher and student (and current battle companions) is wonderful.

Thou knowest to-night, and wilt know to-morrow by @welcomingdisaster - A brilliant installment in an ongoing Children of Húrin AU series that has the most beautiful, unsettling, and dreamlike atmosphere. In this fic Maedhros teaches "Cáno" about pleasure in preparation for their marriage bed. Catnip to me personally!!

Proxy by @aipilosse - Celebrimbor comes to reproach Celegorm in Nargothrond after Finrod's departure. They fuck. Gender, tension, messy and complicated emotional dynamics all around. The dirty talk is so so good.

Star of the Nevrast Shore by joanofarcstan - Silmarillion filk of one of my favorite folk songs! What more is there to say!! A sweet tale of Gondolin told from Voronwë's point of view, recounting the love between him, Tuor (the star of the Nevrast shore), Idril, and Maeglin.

A Light Burns in the Forest by fictional_hr_department - Thranduil and Oropher escape Menegroth with child Elwing. The title and art by @lycheesodas give me chills and the atmosphere of the fic as they make their disorienting journey to Sirion really brings to life the terrible aftermath of the second kinslaying.

By Your Side by HiyoriTomioka - fem!Eärendil and Elwing support each other in this ficlet... such a good vision of this ship, and the way Eärendil thinks about Tuor and Idril here with longing uncertainty makes me think of a trans!Eärendil even though that is not explicit.

Something Sleepless in Mirkwood by @imakemywings - Thranduil sickens as the Greenwood does. Elrond tries to heal him, but can't understand at first what's happening. Brilliant and canon-compliant (To Me) wry, proud, and eerie woodland king Thranduil--go give this a read!

A boat, my boat, out upon the River by Tethys_resort - Sméagol is trying to craft his own boat to take fishing. His family keeps getting in the way. This sweet fic paints such an idyllic picture of proto-Hobbit life and made me really feel the tragedy of Gollum.

The Fortress by TheLegendCreator - Brief and haunting fic in which a Dwarf visits the ruins of Himring and they have a conversation. I love the view this offers of Maedhros and the fierce loyalty Himring and its folk had for him.

one whole with my other by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor - Indis' marriage to Finwë is transferred to bind her instead to reembodied Míriel. This turns out to be a good thing. An incredibly touching, beautifully wrought and worldbuilt story. I just love it so much.

The Number One Exercise for Relieving Work-Related Stress (Click to Find Out!) by @imakemywings - Date night in Mirkwood. Maglor (Noldorin princess, ex-kinslayer) adorns herself for the benefit of Thranduil (the Elvenqueen)--or that's her plan, anyway. This story is so sexy, so funny, and honestly so touching. I just adore this ship as a happy ending for Maglor and their relationship is gorgeously fleshed out here.

Cousin, Sister, Lover, Queen by broken_pencils - Lesbian Éowyn discovers desire... through Éomer's betrothed Lothíriel. Lothíriel is a stealth fav for me from the Éomer fics I used to read as a kid and I really enjoyed her here, and the lush atmosphere of this story.

His Return by @danmeiljie - Beautiful, tender scene of Maedhros and Maglor reuniting as per @tari-cua's art. Such lovely descriptions in this one and so cozy.

[ase0ny]

Chainsaw Man Spoilers

I like how the Angel devil is someone who’s meant to parallel so many different characters in csm, he is a representation of both duality and a lot of the major themes throughout csm despite being a side character

Starting off with Reze, who personally I think is the most obvious parallel as they’re both the two main focuses of the bomb girl arc, Angel are Reze both represent the ‘country mouse’ mindset in which they would rather live a life of comfortability and “simple pleasures” in exchange for not getting to experience every luxury the world has to offer. Those two specifically choose the country mouse because of their dislike of the city. Reze is bound to the Soviet Union and is forced to risk her life in order to carry out her missions, while Angel is forced to live a life in public safety with no actual freedom. Reze offering to run away with Denji to away from public safety is later paralleled in chapter 74 when Angel tells Aki he should “run away to the other side of the world”. Angel and Reze represent the desire for freedom and (in my opinion) love, as the actions they take near the end of the arc revolve around who they wish to be with or protect. Reze goes back to the cafe to find Denji, while Angel kills her to protect Aki from having to kill a women. It’s the only time they interact despite being so similar, Angel is forced to choose his own desire to protect someone he cares about over Reze’s freedom with Denji.

Denji and Angel also have a lot of similarities which I believe mainly lie in 1) food and 2) ignorance. Denji is someone who’s been starved his whole life, food is both important and scarce to him, in comparison to Angel who shown to always be eating something like ice cream, or even other devils. I’ve seen many interpretations of food in csm being a representation of basic happiness as well as love. Whenever Denji eats, it’s clear he honors what he’s eating no matter what it is (ie. him always eating power’s vegetables so they won’t go to waste), and him eating Makima at the end of part one is said to be an act of love—he honored her even while destroying her. Angel, despite eating so much, doesn’t seem to have much thought on what he consumes. It’s clear he likes the food he eats considering he makes a comment about how a dead devil looked like it’d taste good while on patrol with Aki, or the copious amounts of ice cream he’s always holding, but he doesn’t care about it as much as Denji. In his first appearance, he only takes one bite out of the zombie before carelessly throwing it off to the side, and if we use the idea that food represents bliss and love, it could be said that Angel eats so much because he’s trying to find to chase a feeling of comfort through food. He doesn’t care about food in the long run, but he still eats because of the idea that it might give him a small dose of contentment or pleasure. If we look at the topic of ignorance, Denji has to ultimately choose between ignorance or awareness, while Angel is forced into a life of ignorance through his memories getting erased. I believe that Angel, similar to Quanxi, represents a possible future for Denji if he chose to be Makima’s dog; he’d forget what made him feel human and content and only be seen as a devil to be used by public safety.

I’m not going to say much about Aki because it’d take forever and a day to go over the whole situation between them, but basically him and Angel parallel each other as people who seek comfort within each other after spending a lifetime of pushing others away for the sake of their motives (Angel basically not wanting to hurt anyone with his powers and Aki neglecting those who care about him to chase after the gun devil).

Himeno and Angel, to me, are two sides of the same coin. Himeno copes with the devil hunter lifestyle through alcohol, cigarettes, and sex; short pleasures that only get her by for a little while and don’t actually help her adjust to the life she’s living. Angel does something similar with food, but he also copes with isolation because a large part of his issues lie in the fact that he believes he is fundamentally evil. The parallels continue with the way they care for Aki, both of them wanting him to run away from public safety. This goes further with how they don’t believe they are worth saving, and that he has a better chance of getting out than them.

Makima and Angel have a dynamic that more so lies in the religious imagery used in csm. Makima is god, while Angel is Lucifer. Angel would probably be considered Makima’s “favorite” devil, mostly because of his unique powers, which is similar to how God favored Lucifer for his beauty and overall loyalty to him. Angel, just like Lucifer, strays away from the control of his superior. Lucifer ended up in hell after trying to overthrow god, while Angel ends up back in hell after trying to kill Makima.

[plutoyoni]

astro observations:

zuko and azula: an analysis into fire and character arcs - part 1:

zuko

(inspired by this tweet):

(disclaimer: i'm not a professional astrologer, these are just insights from a person who is still learning astrology and making connections along the way. thus, please feel free to correct me if necessary, and take my posts with a grain of salt)

aries, as we know is the sign ruler over fire in the zodiac, both literally and symbolically.

so generally it also rules over connotations of fire-related themes such as:

vitality

passion

heat

physical prowess

combat/violence/war

strength

identity

independence

leadership

masculinity

and lastly, funnily enough, physical markings (such scars or tattoos)

zuko's arc is one that begins with fire, quite literally actually, as the act of his father (the central masculine figure in his life at the time) burning his face in punishment for his defiance (which as we know, was zuko considering the lives of the fire nation soldiers that his father saw as disposable) lights the flame that sets him down the path of his character arc.

consequently, zuko making the 'mistake' of showing kindness and subsequently suffering this traumatic event leads to him embracing all of the negative associations of aries energy, as seen in his season one persona.

his determination is ruthless and unyielding, he's quick to anger, regularly throwing temper tantrums and displaying a demanding aggressiveness towards himself and the people working for him. fiercely independent, and refusing any moments of contemplation or rest.

as his character arc progresses, him choosing to sever ties with this version of himself (symbolically shown by him cutting off his topknot) and embarking on a new journey (with a healthier version of masculinity to guide him found in uncle iroh).

this next part of his story is where I'd say libra's polarity with aries comes into play, as in this part of his journey, zuko experiences a calmer, more peaceful existence, shaped by comforts and pleasures such going on a date, working in the teashop, making connections and most importantly, experiencing kindness from others. these interactions I'd say, are crucial in bringing him back into balance.

by 'zuko alone', his decision to wander alone (aries also rules over independence remember !!) into a village and being taken in by a small boy's family unfolds in him having to revisit his wounds around how violence and combat were a central theme of his upbringing, most memorably, him being so accustomed to violence in his upbringing that his idea of a kind gesture is gifting a weapon to a child.

though he's making solid progress, he falls back into old patterns by jumping at the prospect of allowing his father to believe he's k*lled the avatar and regained his honour. though of course, this win is short-lived because its brings him back into his old pattern of anger and self-destruction.

ultimately, his decision to disavow these teachings by finally confronting his father, and criticising his lifelong childhood abuse, he becomes aware of the dangers of perpetuating the circle of violence and how it ultimately leads to repeated suffering (something zuko has personally learned all too well at this point).

in an effort to avoid this, he chooses the path of peace and kindness and subsequently joins the avatar, leading to him finally reaching the developed side of aries in his identity: using his strength, leadership, and determination (aries) as a means of bringing safety, kindness and peace (libra).

(I'd also add that the evolution of his relationship to firebending (literal, physical fire) is also indicative of this - his explosive and aggressive fighting style born of anger and frustration in season one - in comparison to how it transforms after his face-heel-turn leads to his firebending being clearer, stronger and more refined season three.)

thanks for reading!

author's note - thank you so much for 100 followers! this was a bit harder than i was expecting lol but it's done! tumblr's 10 pic limit is k-wording me there were so many more pics i wanted to include😭

part 2 - azula's arc will be up soon!

[breannasfluff]

Quick question, how do you write so much? I fight the words for an hour and have maybe 2 paragraphs of garbage but you pump out really nice work almost every day??? I have so many ideas but I can’t write them for love nor money

I write almost every day, or I take a break and switch it out for drawing. I generally can write a chapter in one go, so usually stock up some backlog to cover days I’m busy. Having multiple stories now means I don’t have that backlog of some, so updates are a bit slower.

As for writing tips:

1. Remove distractions. Shut discord, exit out of tumblr, mute your phone. When you are stuck, don’t go scroll social media. When writing, the only thing I touch the internet for is if I need to check a story item, like a character name, item history, etc. I cannot overstate how important this is. If you are talking to your friends, you won’t have a writing flow.

2. Do not edit as you write. Writing and editing are two different tasks. You switch between creative and critical thinking and it breaks flow. This is a scientific process and you can read more about it here.

Research electroencephalogram (EEG) suggests both heightened electrical brain wave activity and elevated dopamine levels during flow. In other words, your brain experiences both electrical and chemical changes when you’re “in the zone.”

But once you switch to self-editing mode, you move to the critical thinking side of your brain. You halt all of freewriting’s creative electrical impulses and pleasure-sensing dopamine levels. Your mind flips off one switch and turns on another.

3. Set a time, then be done. Give yourself 20 minutes and write as much as you can. Doesn’t matter if it’s garbage. You can edit garbage into something useful or you can chuck it in a bin. Just try to write, then take a break. Staring at a blank document for two hours isn’t going to make words appear and it just stressed out your brain.

4. Have an outline. Sometimes a magical idea just flows when you sit down to write, but generally not. Have an outline of what you want to have happen in your story or chapter. It doesn’t need to be in depth; for most of my oneshots I literally have a sentence or two at the top of the page. The story needs to have a goal. For example: Wild tries to teach Hyrule cooking. It doesn’t go well. Bouncing ideas off friends can be a big help! It’s why you’ve probably seen me post about prompts and suggestions, and sometimes stories are gifted to people. Talking through plot ideas can help you get a better outline or idea of action.

Misc notes:

Hate to say, but some of it is just practice. I’ve been actively writing for a little over a year with some breaks on and off. Making it a habit is a big thing for making it easy. It’s harder to restart after a break.

When I first started writing I tried to pick one aspect to improve for each story. Filter words, pacing, varying sentence starters, story arcs, etc. Fixing multiple things at once was too much work, but one item at a time was doable.

Filter words make such a huge difference in writing; I encourage you to look them up. It’s a PAIN to remove them in post, but it also taught me to cut them out. Now it’s unconscious and while some still show up, I tend to write them out automatically.

You can learn to write quickly, but if you don’t also work on quality you’ll just…write a lot. That said, it’s fanfic. Sometimes it’s just for fun and quality doesn’t matter. I’ve got plenty of stories that will never be posted because they are just for fun.

Some of it could be writing speed, too? I use a bot a lot of times for timing and tracking and generally average 30-35 words/min. Harder story topics are slower to write, like angst and emotional scenes.

I’m actually writing less this year than last, but I don’t put as much time into it. It also keeps it sustainable as a hobby, although I definitely hit periods of frustration. It can get overwhelming.

If you search my blog for the tag #writing advice or #writing tips, you should fine some other things as well.

This was rather frank, but hopefully helpful! Feel free to drop further questions and I’ll do my best to answer 💜

[fatalism-and-villainy]

I was thinking about the multiple contradictory narratives Bedelia spins about herself in s3 part 2 - the way her public story completely excises her agency in collaborating with Hannibal, while the version of events she presents to Will, in which she gloats about having been “beyond the veil” when he has not, also completely excises her ambivalence and fear towards Hannibal. (Like, she confidently presents a narrative to Will in which she shared the perfect understanding with Hannibal that he craves, and wherein she has embraced the violent impulses in a way that his compassion has impeded him from doing. And yet she spends so much of s3 part 1 positively radiating stress and discomfort. And that contrast is fascinating to me in itself.)

And then I started thinking about the bird metaphor.

Bedelia uses the wounded bird example to frame Will as being held back from being a true killer by his compassion and concern for the weak. But in reality, it represents the appeal that violence holds for both of them. Will’s desire to protect the vulnerable is the source of not only his violent urges, but the pleasure he takes in hurting those who hurt others - this is most obvious in the social worker horse plot line, in which his care for Peter ignites his murderous anger towards Clark Ingram, and also comes through in his enjoyment of killing Randall Tier and his fantasies about killing Hannibal. The fundamental tension in his character arc - whether the righteous anger he feels for the vulnerable will overwhelm his compassion, such that the pleasure of violence swallows up its initial motivation - is reflected in the fact that many of the killers he can identify with do feel a kind of twisted compassion for their victims. Garett Jacob Hobbs, for example, his identification with whom Will struggles with considerably, is said to “love” his victims. For Hannibal himself, violence and love are also incredibly bound up.

Bedelia is different. Her desire to crush the bird tends to manifest as a sort of twisted mercy killing, as with Neal Frank and Sogliato. (Interestingly, her and Will’s violent impulses, at least on a surface level, feel like an extreme and twisted reflection of their professions - Will’s job is to bring justice, and hers is to provide medical care). Hannibal knows this about her, and explicitly sets her up to kill Sogliato (“technically, you killed him”). He knew she would flinch at his suffering and need to squelch it out. And while it’s not stated one way or another, it’s entirely possible (perhaps probable) that he purposely set her up with Neal Frank, because he was curious what she would do.

(In Tome-wan, Hannibal tries to push Will to mercy kill Mason Verger in the same way during the “he fed his face to my dogs” scene, possibly working from his experiences with Bedelia - but of course Will’s not built that way.)

The thing with Bedelia’s mercy killing, though, is that despite her being the one to voice the line about compassion being necessary for cruelty, her motivation seems to be nearly devoid of compassion. Rather, my reading is that she operates more from discomfort, and disgust. She’s repelled by weakness and suffering. When she sees a wounded bird, she wants to get rid of it, crush out its suffering so she doesn’t have to look anymore. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t get genuine pleasure from the violence, but the violence we see from her feels reactive.

And that’s possibly the biggest difference between her and Hannibal, and the source of the gulf between them. Because Hannibal relishes vulnerability. See the way he affectionately rubs his head against Miriam Lass’ as he chokes her unconscious, the way he keeps Gideon alive for an extended period of time so he can experience Hannibal’s work, the way he treats Bedelia herself with care despite their both knowing he’s working up towards eating her. It’s not just about the kill for Hannibal - it’s drawing the victim’s reactions out and enjoying the thrill of power he has over them, and it’s a process that in many cases seems to instill a strange, twisted tenderness in him.

This brings me back to Will and the wounded bird, because his desire to “help” the bird doesn’t just extend towards his penchant for violent punitive justice - it’s also the way he comes to see killing itself as a way of honouring the victims by making them into art. He wants to linger with their vulnerability, spool it out and spin it into something beautiful, and it’s through this that he can connect with Hannibal. But can you imagine Bedelia stopping to turn Chiyoh’s prisoner into a sculpture? Of course not. She can’t linger with her victims after their deaths - she panics after killing Neal Frank, and is sickened by Hannibal’s actions in Antipasto. She can’t see the artistry in death the way Will and Hannibal can. Violence compels her, but pain and suffering are ugly to her. To Will and Hannibal, they’re beautiful.