#this is badly cropped. whoops

[ethoslab-collection]

#etho :) #a slab of the mindcrack variety #bonus zisteau #<- barely #this is badly cropped. whoops

[callmearcturus]

how real was the Burj thing, I assumed that was greenscreen

sorry for late reply, just got off work.

and oh buddy. the entire Burj sequence was 100% real. also great timing, I was just telling Punct the details of this scene last night, so!

/RUBS HANDS TOGETHER

Everyone watch this 9 minute clip. Unless you are scared of heights, then DO NOT watch this 9 minute clip.

The Burj Khalifa sequence is the start of the New Era of Mission Impossible, and it is a tremendous Fuck You to Paramount specifically.

For context: The reason Jeremy Renner is in this movie is, like with the Bourne movies, he was being set up to be the New Protagonist taking over for Cruise. Paramount didn't want Cruise anymore and the original plan for the script was for Ethan to badly break his leg in the carpark fight sequence, and he'd retire as the head of the IMF.

The Burj's entire point is going "Actually, go fuck yourself, I will prove to you that no one else can do what I fucking do," and Ghost Protocol goes on to make almost 700 million dollars, the largest take of the series to date by a lot.

SO, how was it done?

The Burj Khalifa stunt was done for real around floor 147 (higher than stated in the movie). The stunt was considered so dangerous Cruise fired the movie insurer because they refused to insure the movie with the stunt. So they were replaced, which is an event that... defies precedent and I don't know if it's ever happened before or since.

In the pre-visualization process, the plan was for the CGI team to make their own version of the scene with a digital Cruise in case the practical didn't work out, which is pretty reasonable given the stunt. When Cruise found out, though, he told them to scrap it. "There is no digital Tom, i'm doing the stunt, I'm doing all of it"

To prepare for the stunt, they made a fake Burj facade on a studio lot. It would have been relatively easy to use the facade for the actual filming and then add the real footage later buuuuut nope! Cruise practiced for weeks leading up to the practical shoot.

They even put hot lamps on the facade to ensure the metal and glass were hot so they were more similar to the real conditions he'd be dealing with.

okay that's all the pre-pro on it. the actual reality:

The crew had to renovate I think two floors of the Burj to bring them up to code, mostly by raising the ceiling height. They also had to remove about 35 windows because not only did Cruise have to go out through the actual window to start his climb, but they needed to be able to maneuver cameras and equipment outside the building.

"Redboxes" were put on the floors, literally boxes made of red tape, and anyone standing within those areas needed extra safety training and to be in a harness at all times. With so many windows open at such a height, if someone was blown out a window, they needed to be strapped in to prevent falling.

Cruise himself was in a harness too! But he was supported by a single wire that was so thin, in many of the shots they didn't even need to remove the wire because it was too thin to be picked up on camera.

Cruise's harness was a problem in of itself. The combination of the harness and how he was climbing meant the major arteries in his legs were cut off, and there was only time to do about two shots before he would lose feeling in his legs and plummet to his death.

To deal with the circulation situation, between takes, while the crew was resetting or on breaks, Cruise would run along the outside of the building. Whooping and yelling was involved.

It's all practical. It's all practical. Even the moment when Ethan runs along the building and then leaps and swings on the cable to launch himself into the window actually happened. It's practical.

Exclusively in IMAX, the film was cropped to be slightly smaller than the full breadth of the IMAX screen for the entire first act of the movie, until Ethan steps out of the window to begin the climb, then the ratio expanded to fill the screen. Sadly this edit is not maintained in any of the DVD/Blurays. In this way, Mission Impossible is like Homestuck.

Brad Bird, the director who was formerly from Pixar, said that if they tried the sequence in CGI it would not have worked for a lot of little reasons like having the animate such complicated reflections in the distance and the small details like how the glass buckles under Ethan's hands as he moves.

The shot where Ethan sees the sandstorm in the glass reflection and then the camera pulls around to show the actual sandstorm over his shoulder? Also real; as the camera spins around, they removed the glass in its way to give it the needed range of motion.

AND THAT'S THE BURJ STUNT! /dusts hands

also if you wanna know the moment i find the most stressful of the entire fucking sequence, it's this one

#Anonymous #mission impossible #i'm sorry i know everything about these movies now #cw tom cruise #cruise is willing to die in the name of preserving cinema i'm telling you #mission impossible fun facts

[decepti-thots]

Hello! Your latest posts about Rodimus were great! But I have a question that has been bothering me for quite a while and I really want to read your opinion because I think that your understanding of these characters is really good and you are as unbiased as one can be (and it helps that you don’t latch on to James Roberts’ or artists’ twits!). Do you think Ratchet is being disrespectful and abusive during his belief debates with Drift? It’s silly, but lately I saw people who share this opinion.

Ahhh, this old... argument. By which I mean ship war. Is that really cropping up again?

This discussion obviously involves a discussion of at least the abstract invocation of abuse in discussions of shipping, so just to be safe, I will cut it.

Well in case the above didn't give it away: no, I do not think Ratchet is being 'abusive' during their pre-relationship spats. I will in fact plant my flag in the sand here: I think any reading of their interactions which attempts to invoke the very real, very serious concept of domestic abuse is offensive in its insistence on exploiting serious topics for the sake of what is very much silly ship war nonsense. It's a part of the tendency of some parts of fandom to not be able to simply say 'this ship does not appeal to me' or 'I feel this ship was badly executed and so did not enjoy it', because that would make their dislike of a pairing too subjective and they need it to be objectively bad and wrong, so a bad-faith reading is used to make the matter a morally weighted one. A relationship didn't just lack chemistry or come across as insincere or seem too sudden for characters who previously butted heads; no, it's abusive. Relatedly, you are bad for shipping it, and you should come ship this thing I just so happen to prefer. To call this tactic in poor taste would be underselling it, I think.

Disrespectful, well, that's very different. I think Ratchet is absolutely disrespectful towards Drift at the start. That is a major foundational point in how the comic sets up their history; Ratchet acts like he is angry at Drift because he dislikes Drift's kooky religious views, but in reality he is angry at Drift because he sees what Drift went on to do after Ratchet saved his life as. Well. Unworthy of respect. The annual makes this pretty clear; their arguments aren't just about Drift believing in crystal healing or whatever, the discussion they are having underneath is about Ratchet feeling responsible for the atrocities Drift committed as Deadlock.

Which I think is where the milder version of this comes in- the idea that Ratchet is disrespectful of Drift's religious views and that Drift shouldn't give the time of day to someone who treats his deeply held views so flippantly, so the relationship sucks because ew, Ratchet is a Bad Boyfriend. Which... I can see how you might come to this conclusion, the indications that a) this is not what they are really fighting about and b) that Drift is in fact playing up part of it on purpose and it's not wholly sincere, are not unambiguous, nor are they super obvious. I disagree, personally. But it's up for interpretation, and you can absolutely read the comic as saying that yeah, Drift is super religious and Ratchet thinks he's dumb for it, that's all just real and there.

In which case, well, that's an absolutely fine reason to not like the ship, obviously! Some folks are not into the 'we started off antagonistically and slowly came to begrudgingly respect each other and whoops now we caught feeeeeelings' dynamic- because watching people not like each other is not fun to them even if it is temporary, or it reminds them of shitty exes they've had, or like. Whatever reason. That's fine. But it's not some sort of 'gotcha' that 'proves' people are wrong to enjoy that stuff. So someone doesn't like relationships that start out, pre-romance, where people are mean to each other over disagreements. Cool! Lots of folks don't, and I think folks that don't are likely to bounce off dratchet. But that's an assessment of personal taste rather than quality or, in the most hyperbolic versions of The Diskhorse, morality.

In short: nah, that's overwhelmingly folks who just don't like a ship and think if they moralise hard enough they can like. guilt people out of shipping it. tbqh. i mean less the 'disrespectful' part, but certainly folks out here insisting ratchet is an abuser are being disingenuous.

[deconstructiveflea]

hey look! im not dead i’ve just been stuck on the same piece for several months be proud of me

#my art #watercolor #watercolor and ink #traditional art #zen doodle #I'm going just a little bit insane whoops #this is badly cropped sorry #fleadoesart

[erikxavier]

(x)

#mcavoyedit #useralex #jakegyllenhaals #uservilu #james mcavoy #glass press has been a blessing #badly cropped whoops #gifs by kya #mine

[snarkyowl]

The Devil Smiles

This is pretty bad, but honestly it’s not getting any better. Inspo for it just curled up and died. Used a song just didn’t put in the lyrics.

Chase isn’t quite sure how and when it all began, his rise to power. He remembers forming a plan as the fans continued to wonder how innocent he was, plotting as some fans made him ruthless despite the many that were convinced he was just a gentle soul.

He took them all by surprise, he’ll tell you. No one expected him of all egos to grab control in such a way. No one expected him to grab control at all, and yet here he was at the head of them all.

Smirking to himself, Chase leans back in his chair. Yes, he likes the sound of that.

Chase had been quick to establish those whom he knew would defend him as his meat shield. With them standing between him and those that may want to harm him, Chase had a play at power. He was stronger than them already because of the fans.

He’d have to thank them.

He’d taken to calling the fans “his people.” It was an affectionate thing, if not a little twisted. They were his little sheep, following along with everything he did perfectly. So predictable, the fans were, but without them he knew he’d be nothing.

He owed them, but he’d ignore that for now.

He has no real crown, but he might as well. He runs the egos, all of them, and he has the fans in the palm of his hand. Eating every lie he feeds them, every pity play, every nagging voice that tells Jack to just like this theory to give them a hint.

Their worshipping, almost endless it would seem, was something Chase relished in. He was a dinosaur, but he wouldn’t be going extinct.

He grimaces as that line crosses his mind, shaking his head a bit. Perhaps that’s overdramatic, still.

He’s more powerful than any of them could ever have imagined. He has to laugh.

Chase is a powerful man that doesn’t take well to being undermined, and any disobedience is met with swift punishment. His cruel actions spread like wildfire, and soon he’s not being opposed at all. That makes him happier than anything, watching them squirm with fear and unsaid responses to his demands.

His eyes always glint with a certain kind of madness as he raises his hand to bring it down on flesh. Sometimes they forget their place, and he has to remind them.

On the days they forget, he finds himself growing antsy. But there are other ways to handle that.

“Olivier?” Chase drawls over lunch, drawing the attention of his beloved queen.

The android lifts his head, and Chase smirks at the bruises on synthetic skin that he spots along Olivier’s neck. The cut on his lip.

He put those there.

“Get on your hands and knees.” Chase demands, and Olivier frowns.

He opens his mouth, and Chase knows what’s going to come next.

“Forget about eating, best to keep me pleased darling. I’ll make it good for you too, I promise.”

Chase says it so sincerely, with eyes that make Olivier’s heart melt.

He’ll come to regret it later, he always does, but for the moment he finds himself nodding dumbly along.

“Always time to kill with a quick fuck.” Chase says with an odd laugh.

Olivier wonders if the Chase he loved is left in there at all. As Chase grips onto his hair too tightly, he knows the chances are small.

Later, Chase will kiss him on the cheek and ask him to leave. “I’ve had my fun. I’m bored of you.” Chase will say.

Olivier will demand to know if this is a permanent change, and Chase will only give him a cryptic smirk.

Olivier will storm out humiliated, heartbroken, and furious.

Chase has shown that he won’t hesitate to carry out a murder. He’d shot down Wilford almost twenty times before the pink haired ego had finally given up on killing him. Dark had been shot a grand total of fifty times before he had quieted down to a level Chase was pleased with.

Chase was so accurate, so precise, in his aim that no one dared to upset him when he had his gun in hand. It was a surefire way to get yourself killed.

“I’ve made your misery my goal.” Chase says one day to Dark, and Dark wants to sit at him.

Instead he glowers in silence as Chase laughs.

“If you want survival, Darkie, you better start kneeling when I arrive.” Chase coos, and Dark’s aura flares.

That’s an absurd request, but all he can afford to do is nod mutely. Brody will pay for this, but for now he’s stuck like this.

Chase is unstoppable until someone can find a weakness in his guard dogs. Anti, the fiercest of those guard dogs, is never far from Chase. He gets the most affection and praise, and Chase is rumored to have only snapped on him once.

Once.

No one can stop Chase for the moment. He’s invincible.

Until they find his weakness, he’ll continue to be invincible. Until that day comes, he’ll revel in being the ruler of them all.

#chase brody #google blue #this is fucked up #but badly written whoops who's shocked i'm not #snarky writes #barely #this is so shitty but everything before it was shittier so here you go #cream of the rotted crop

[awanderingdeal]

Summer Camp AU - Chapter 3 - Leo

Sorry about the wait on this one! Our darling Leo will be taking us through this chapter. 

CW: mentions of injury (minor)

Fic Rating: T

Please message me if you feel that any content warnings need to be added or the rating is not appropriate. 

Thank you to my wonderful betas @bkfstclubmember and @fleetingpieces. 

The characters in this fic belong to @lumosinlove and you should definitely go and check out her fics!

For previous and future chapters please see my masterlist

Leo had only been to summer camp once as a kid, and that had been back in middle school. It had escaped his memory how draining it was to meet so many new people, learn the layout of the site, and to keep track of all the rules he needed to remember. Between that, and the bruises littering his body from the evening of Dodgeball and Capture the Flag, Leo was exhausted. Happy, but exhausted. 

Regulus hadn’t crept back into their cabin until the early hours of the morning and had declined coming to breakfast in favour of more sleep. It meant that Leo was alone when he set his breakfast tray down at an empty table. He was only able to savour the quiet for a couple of minutes though, before the chaos of camp caught up with him. 

“Leo!” a boy said, startling Leo into looking up from his eggs. He recognised him from the game of dodgeball; he’d hit Leo square in the chest. Besides, it would have been difficult to forget that face. Cropped curls, a chiseled jawline and deep brown eyes. He’d cut his camp t-shirt into a low tank top. Leo noticed the scars, a slightly paler brown than the rest of his skin, peeking out through the oversized arm holes. He’d never seen anybody wear them so proudly before and it made him want to smile. Not only for the other boy, but for himself. Because if 13 year old Leo, heck if 17 year old Leo, had been told that one day he’d be in a place that would allow him to be authentically himself, and he’d be surrounded by others who understood what it was to be different, he never would have believed it. 

“Morning,” Leo had to glance at the boy's badge; he was awful with names. “Thomas,” he said with a smile. He’d only said two words to the boy yesterday, but Thomas seemed like the type who would be friends with anybody that was willing. 

“Call me Talker,” Thomas said, reaching out a hand for Leo to shake. “Please.” 

“Morning, Talker,” Leo repeated with a laugh, shaking the hand before shovelling more eggs into his mouth. 

Soon the table was full, and Leo found himself in a heated conversation about whether kindles were better than books. Somehow, that led to him lapping up James’ stories of previous camp disasters until Lily shoved her boyfriend and told him to stop scaring the rookie. 

The chatter was interrupted by the static of a microphone. Everybody, including Leo, turned towards the source of the noise. A flustered looking young man stood over by the buffet table, clutching his hands around the microphone so hard that his knuckles were white. James cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered, “Go Loops!”

The man smiled and gave a nervous cough, but the encouragement seemed to work. “Hi everybody, I’m Remus Lupin. Most people just call me Loops though. My pronouns are he/him and I’ve been coming to this camp for the last two years. Clearly I didn’t suck too much, because they hired me as a medic this year,” he paused, his eyes searching the crowd. They landed on the man that Leo had met as Regulus’ brother the day before, and his smile grew wider. “I’m going to be leading the first aid training this morning, so if you could all be out at the pavilion in 15 minutes that would be fantastic...thanks.” 

The room fell silent as Remus set the microphone back in its stand and walked off, receiving a pat on the shoulder from Dumo as he passed. The hall soon erupted with noise again as people finished up their food and made to follow the instructions they had been given.

“Alright! Let’s go save some lives,” Thomas boomed, downing the last of his glass of milk and grabbing his tray. He’d only taken two steps before he turned back around and flashed a grin at Leo. “Nutty! I forgot to say. Dumo asked us to film some promo TikToks and your beautiful face would be great in it. You in?” 

Leo had no idea who ‘us’ was, but he’d promised himself to take every opportunity that this camp threw at him so he nodded, and gave a small, “Sure, why not?”

“Great, I’ll see you after dinner then,” Thomas said, walking off with a bounce in his step.

When Leo made his way to the pavilion, he was given a card with the number 1 on it by Remus. He didn’t know what it was for, but clutched it in his hand as he looked around for Regulus, hoping they had managed to wake up on time. He was relieved to set his eyes on them talking to June, a girl that Leo had met yesterday. She had been a bit intimidating, leaning against a tree, dressed in biker boots and a leather jacket that he later learnt had a bisexual flag stiched into back. However, she’d turned out to be extremely friendly and Leo relaxed knowing Regulus was in good hands. 

“Okay! Listen up, folks,” Remus called out. “Each of you has been given a card with a number on it. There is one other person with the same number as you. Please find them, they are going to be your partner for today’s training session.”

Different people seemed to have different strategies for finding their partner. Some decided to stay where they were and just shout their numbers. Others darted around asking each individual what their number was. Leo didn’t need to use either to find his. With his first glance across the crowd, he settled his eyes on a person holding a card with the number one on it. With a triumphant smile, he weaved through the other counselors quickly so as not to lose sight of his partner.   

“Hey, I’m Leo. I think you’re mine,” Leo introduced himself, glancing quickly at the nametag on Logan’s chest before looking up at his face again. The action had become almost habitual already. 

Logan peered from under the brim of his hat. He had deep green eyes that Leo swore were looking into his soul as they swept over the length of his body.  “Yeah, I suppose you are,” the boy said eventually. “My name’s Logan, but I guess you already know that. Pleased to meet you.” 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Leo mumbled quietly under his breath. He had promised himself that he wasn’t going to do the cliched ‘summer camp romance’ thing. After all, he’d just gotten over the ‘closeted jock’ situation and that hadn’t been fun, to say the least. He wanted to be done with men for a very long time, but it didn’t hurt to look, right?

Before Logan could respond, Remus had gathered their attention again and they got swept away with learning how to recognise and assist the injuries and ailments that they were most likely to see over the coming weeks.

“Merde!” Logan gasped, pulling Leo from his thoughts. He figured that he had wound the bandage too tight around Logan’s arm.

“Sorry! Sorry,” he apologised, trying to remove it as quickly as he could. “Are you okay?”

Logan frowned for a second, “I am fine. Why would you ask that?”

“Was it not too tight?” Leo asked, gesturing to Logan’s arm, a little confused. 

Logan’s features knitted into a tighter frown before he seemed to have a realisation. “Oh, non. That was fine. Perfect. I will never bleed to death with you around,” he said, gesturing for Leo to do the bandage again so that Remus could inspect his work. 

“Okay…” Leo hesitated, “Why did you swear then?”

“You’re the angel,” Logan grinned, and Leo just grew more confused. Logan huffed out a laugh. “I believe you met my boyfriend yesterday. Tall...although, not as tall as you. Red hair. Bit of an idiot.”

“You mean Finn,” Leo smiled, remembering the boy from yesterday. “Wait. Did you say boyfriend?” 

Leo had been one of the people allocated to defend his team's flag. His back was to it, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blue, white and pink stripes. Dumo had taken the opportunity to educate the counsellors on the flags of different identities before letting each team choose which would be theirs for the game. A timid looking blonde girl had whooped so loudly before her pale cheeks had turned crimson that it had been a unanimous decision for their team to take the trans flag. 

It had been eerily quiet for a while when three people came crashing out of the trees. Leo recognised two of them; a Russian boy who had insisted everybody called him Kuny instead of butchering his name, and Jackson Nadeau. They were both on his team.The person they were chasing was not. Leo glanced to his right, checking that there was nobody coming from that direction before he tried to intercept the intruder. Leo had thought he was fast, but they had easily whipped past him and Leo was left watching them run. He didn’t have time to call out between seeing the rock and watching them fall flat on their face.  

“Are you okay?” Leo shouted, forgetting the game as he ran over to check they hadn’t hurt themselves too badly. He was worried that they weren’t moving, but just as Leo kneeled down, they groaned and rolled onto their back. 

“Shit,” Leo said, taking in the blood dripping down the pale skin. “Hey, I’m Leo. Can you tell me your name?” Leo asked, already knowing it was Finn from the name tag, but he wanted to check that the boy knew himself. 

“Fi-Fish,” the red haired boy slurred, blinking rapidly. “Am I in heaven?”  he asked, reaching up to cup Leo’s face.

“No, you’re at Camp Gryffindor. Not quite heaven, but pretty close,” Leo gave a nervous laugh. “Just stay still. We’re going to get somebody to help you.”

“You look like an angel to me,” Finn whispered, making Leo blush. He gave a little cough before looking up at Kuny and Jackson, who had joined him at Finn’s side. “Can one of you go and grab a medic, please?”

Leo had been meaning to check up on Finn. Both because he had been worried about him, but also because he hadn’t been able to get that red hair and those freckles out of mind all night. Finn was beautiful, of course he had a boyfriend. 

“Yeah,” Logan nodded, his smile widening a second. “My boyfriend who apparently met an angel last night. He’s not wrong.”

Leo scratched at the back of his neck before continuing to wrap the bandage around Logan’s arm. “How is he?” 

“He’s fine. He’ll have a headache for a few days, but Lupin fixed him up,” Logan reassured. He hummed and pulled at the grass with his unoccupied hand. “Wouldn’t shut up about the blue-eyed angel called Leo though. I tried to make him stay in bed today, but he insisted you were real. Seems you are.” 

Leo thought his face was going to permanently take on its new shade of pink with the amount of blushing he was doing. “Isn’t it weird for you? Your boyfriend calling me an angel?” 

Logan shrugged, “Non, he didn’t lose his eyesight just because we got into a relationship. Besides, I trust him.”

Thankfully, Remus chose that moment to join them, praising Leo’s work and making a few comments on how it could be made a little better. Once he had gone, Logan began to tell him about his life growing up in Canada as if the previous conversation had never happened. Leo wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or frustrated. 

In return, Leo told Logan about the cooking classes that had led him to applying to work in the camp kitchens that summer. He found that Logan was actually a good listener, and nearly ended up spilling the details of the drama that led him to taking those classes as a replacement for the hockey games he was due to be playing. Another time maybe. Leo wasn’t going to think about how much he hoped there would be another time. 

The rest of the morning session seemed to fly by after that, and soon Leo found himself saying goodbye to Logan in order to find Regulus for lunch. 

“I’ll see you around,” Leo smiled.

“Sure thing, mon ange,” Logan said easily, and Leo tried not to read too much into that.

#sweater weather #lumosinlove #logan tremblay #leo knut #finn o'hara #natalie darcy #pascal dumais #celeste dumais #Sergei Ivanov #sirius black #remus lupin #noelle tremblay #thomas walker #alex o'hara #kasey winter #James Potter #lily evans #Dima Krupin #regulus black #Rating: M #minor inury

[intheseautumnhands]

More Sorting Hat Chats

All right, I have had Daughter stuck in my head all day, and I want to talk about Abigail Hobbs.

(I basically always want to talk about Abigail Hobbs, she is my favorite television character and would make a good running for my singular favorite character ever if I could ever pick one.  If you are considering if this is an invitation, please take it as one. But, I digress.)

As I can tell, there’s been discussion of Will and Hannibal’s sortings, and nobody else in the show. I’d love to dig in and do the whole rest of the show, but I don’t feel like I’ve rewatched recently enough to do everybody. I can always talk about Abigail, though!

As I continue to be exceedingly wordy as I do these things (whoops. I tried...), under a cut it goes again.

Let’s start on the Primary. We know pretty clearly that a lot of what Abigail has done has been focused on survival above all. We know for a fact that her darkest actions were: we see her kill Boyle in self-defense, and when she’s discussing helping her father, she says outright, “I knew it was them or me.” That... doesn’t actually help narrow it down, of course, because none of the houses have a claim on survival, and you could come at that feeling from any start point. But what it points to for me is that whatever her Primary is, it’s Burnt, and probably pretty badly. She hasn’t had the ability to come at decisions from a standpoint of what’s right, or what’s good for anyone else, or hell, even what’s good for her -- it’s all about what will get me through this alive.

When she does talk about what she’s done, it all feels very instinctive: “I’m a monster.” “Some places are stained now. Some people too. I know I am.” Even this: “I thought there was something wrong with me because I didn’t feel ugly when I killed Nick Boyle. I felt good. That’s why it was so easy to lie about it.” There doesn’t seem to be any weighing or rationalizing behind it, and every time she does try to come off as doing things from a rational place, it feels extremely put on -- that first scene after she wakes up, when she talks to Alana, for example, and Alana immediately sees through her.

So, not a Bird. She could be a Lion, instinctively knowing that what she’s done for her own safety is wrong and trying to fight that feelings -- it would fit with her judgements of herself, and with how she talks to Will about killing, trying to find someone else to rationalize it for her. But: I’m going to argue that’s she’s an extremely Burned Badger Primary.

First: why Badger, not Snake, when she’s shut herself down until she’s the only person she’s looking out for and that’s basically the original definition of a Petrified Snake? Because Abigail isn’t shutting herself off from connections in general. As soon as Hannibal reaches out, Abigail doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t try to back away from that connection; she leans into it, tells him about her nightmares and trusts him when he asks her. She pushes Will away -- until she’s reassured that he’ll accept enough of what she’s done that she doesn’t have to, and then she’s so quick to accept him and talk to him about it that she almost reveals her other secret in the very next conversation we see them have. She even opens up a little to Freddie, despite the fact that she has to know that’s a bad idea.

That conversation is also one of the reasons I’m going to call Badger, not Lion -- specifically, her view on Nick Boyle sounds so hard like either depersonalizing him to make herself feel better, or trying and failing to depersonalize him to make herself feel better. “I blame Nick Boyle for Nick Boyle’s death. He killed Marissa, he got what was coming to him.” We the audience already know this isn’t true to some extent -- we’ve seen Boyle crop up in Abigail’s dream, among the girls she clearly still feels guilty about, but it doesn’t feel like something she’s saying entirely for Freddie’s benefit either. It’s so emphatic, and it’s not a lie that will necessarily make her look better -- it makes so much more sense if it’s what she wants to believe.

And then Freddie blows it up, reframes it all and makes the guilt flood back in. And it could be either Lion or Badger -- he’s no longer such a bad guy, so having killed him is no longer something she can even try to frame as okay. But, even if Boyle wasn’t a killer, it was still self-defense. Reframing who he was doesn’t necessarily reframe what happened, and the fact that it still changes her feelings on it so thoroughly is part of what makes me go to Badger instead.

She doesn’t react to Hannibal the way I imagine a Lion with all that guilt would, either. Even after she knows for certain that he’s a killer, in the 3x09 flashbacks -- even when she’s outright saying that she’s not sure it’s smart to trust or accept him, she’s not really that guarded with him. If she’s a Lion, her talk with Freddie about Boyle and her guilt for the part she played under duress in her father’s killings speaks to some pretty intense gut feelings about killing and people who have done it. I see absolutely none of that in how she talks to Hannibal immediately after he confesses to killing more people than her father.

(There is some debate about how accurate the 3x09 flashbacks are, I believe, whether they’re closer to Will’s hallucinations of Abigail than actual memories; I do think some of the details may be embellished or changed by Hannibal’s memories, but I’m going to assume they’re more accurate than not to make this easier on myself.)

There’s also what she says in the therapy flashback, and yes, it’s clearly led and influence by Hannibal, but it still appears to be her words and her emotions:

He was as good to me as he knew how to be. Hunting with him was the best time I ever had.

And there’s the simple fact that this is the tact Hannibal takes with her, over and over, which I think can be read into. Hannibal is perceptive, very good at reading and manipulating people, and over and over again, when he wants a way to connect to or manipulate Abigail, he puts himself in a position where she can mentally link him with her father and her family. The tea and the dinner in 1x04, the dinner with Freddie and comforting Abigail in the kitchen in 1x09, “You accepted your father. Would it be so difficult to accept me?” -- it’s the tact he takes with Will too, to encourage his desire to bond with Abigail, pushing him to think of the three of them as family. It makes sense if it’s because he can feel both of them looking for that connection, and knows it’ll serve his desires and plans best if they find it with him and each other.

(I don’t want to go into this too long because I’ve already talked a lot, but there’s also something so fascinating about the idea of Abigail, whose trauma is about fathers and family and girls like her, whose downfall is in who she gives her trust to, being a Badger. And that’s not, y’know, a reason to sort her that way -- but it does add a really interesting layer to her if she is one.)

Okay. Let’s see if I can do the Secondary in under a thousand words this time.

Abigail is trying so hard to perform Snake, or maybe a really fast Bird. She’s trying to manipulate, to show everything what they need to see to want to protect or help her, to have a plan, to be one step ahead of everybody else.

And she’s really, really bad at it. Because Abigail has a loud, screaming Lion Secondary that hates every second of what she’s doing. All the decisions that give her any sense of control, all the decisions that seem to come from what she wants to do instead of what she thinks is best -- going back home to confront what happened, unburying Boyle, going back with Will again in 1x12, even, to some extent, agreeing to work with Freddie -- are impulsive, and involve facing the issues instead of trying to bury them. And the biggest one of all, the thing she does to feel like she has control, unburying Boyle -- it’s the worst possible thing she could do, to try and keep herself safe, but not having to wait for it to happen, to be able to confront it head-on, is the part that matters to her.

She’s just really bad at lying in general, too. Every time she’s around somebody she likes or who knows the smallest part of her secret, she says something that hints about what else is going on. Again, the first time we see her talk to Will alone after she’s stopped trying to push him away, she almost gives it all away: “I wish I had killed him. For killing my mom. For killing all those girls, for making me...” Then there’s what she says to Jack while standing over Nick Boyle’s body, her speech about how she survived -- she’s trying to dismiss suspicion, but she can’t help some honesty leaking out even though it does nothing to help her sound innocent. Alana pegs her as trying to manipulate people and trying to be too practical in their very first conversation, that one that seems so far removed from what she’s like in private, with people she does trust to any extent.

It’s also notable that even with all her manipulation and masks being so see-through to everyone around her, she still ends up with some of that reaction she’s looking for anyway, and not just in Will’s crusade to protect her -- Alana says she can’t help but care about her as well. (You could easily argue Freddie seems to have some extent of genuine feeling towards her as well, sympathy if nothing else, though that’s more debatable. Hannibal is entirely debatable as to whether he has genuine feelings for her or not, but if you view their relationship that way, there’s that as well.) Lion Secondary’s accidental inspiration maybe, twisted and warped by that manipulative performance and the situation altogether?

In conclusion: Badly Burnt Badger Primary / Lion Secondary (probably at least somewhat burnt, or at least repressed) with inexpert Snake and Bird Performances layered on top.

#sorting hat chats #sortinghatchats #abigail hobbs #one day i will work out how to do these in a reasonable length i'm sorry #it all feels important! to explain the thought process behind it! #but then they end up so very long

[p-artsypants]

I’ll Handle This (5)

In Which There is an Akuma

Ao3 | FF.net

Plagg was laying on the bed when he returned. “Oh good, you’re back. I was kind of worried about you—“ 

“There’s an Akuma!” Adrien interrupted. 

Plagg’s eyes lit up. “An Akuma, you say? How interesting...” 

“Yeah yeah, just do the thing that sucks me in the ring!” 

“I’ll warn you ahead of time, when I’m in your body like this, the suit becomes factory default. Oh, and you’ll be able to see and hear everything I do.” 

“Great. This whole ‘Invasion of the Bodysnatchers’ episode is getting better and better.” 

“Adrien, Claws out!” 

That was an odd sensation. Now Adrien knew what Taffy felt like. He felt his whole body grow long and thin, before spiraling smaller and smaller. There was every color in the rainbow, flashing in a nauseous wave, and then, he was looking through his eyes again. 

“Ha!” Said Plagg with a little satisfaction. “Feels good to be on the other side.” He walked over to the mirror, where Adrien could finally see what ‘factory default’ meant. 

He looked like a ninja. Not like a Naruto ninja, but like a real Sengoku period, 15th century ninja. An all black, cloth ensemble, with foot wraps and a thick belt. Instead of claws on his fingertips, there were long blades attached to the back of his hand, almost like wolverine. Instead of a mask around his eyes, he wore one over the lower half of his face, and only left his eyes exposed. But his eyes looked different enough. The sclera was a toxic green instead of white, and his pupils were slit. Thick black eyeliner traced the eyes and framed them, making the color pop. His hair was a complete disaster and stood up in every direction. 

Finally, the ears. They were real, genuine cat ears. Complete with fur. 

“Not too shabby, if I say so. Though, the first guys that wore this had black hair, which made the ears less jarring. But I can’t complain. We mustn’t leave our lady waiting!” 

Plagg threw open the window and leapt into the city. 

He rushed over the rooftops, doing impossible feats of parkour and agility. It actually made Adrien dizzy. 

“Oh, one other thing I forgot to mention,” Plagg said aloud. “You know how when you’re in the suit, you can be body slammed into a building and be okay afterwards?” 

Yeah? 

“Well...you’re going to feel all that pain instead. That’s why I’m always so wiped after a fight.” 

What?!

Plagg glanced at his baton, the screen looking more like parchment than the usual LED screen, and found where Ladybug was. 

A hop skip and a jump, he landed next to her. “What are we up against?” 

She didn’t look at him, eyes glued to the akuma. “Stretchy guy. Like Mr. Fantastic. Can’t figure out what ticked him off, but he’s able to reach anything and even shape shift. Might be difficult to fight.” Then she finally looked at him and her eyes bulged. “Chat? What’s with your suit?” 

“Plagg’s having a hard time right now, so I’m factory default.” 

“O...Kay...are you going to be okay fighting like that?” 

“It feels fine, my Lady. Nothing to worry about. In fact, do you mind if I take the lead on this one? Give you a little break?” 

She chuckled. “You know I could always use a break.” 

“Great! We need to lead him over to the construction site over at Notre Dame, where all the scaffolding are.” 

She smiled at him. “I think I know what you’re planning, Kitty. Lead the way.” 

He dropped the bottom part of his mask, and wolf whistled quickly, before Ladybug could place his face. “Hey stretch!” He shouted. “You up for a little race?” 

“Ladybug and Chat Noir! You’ll give me your Miraculous as soon as I reach you!” 

“Good luck with that!” And he vaulted backwards on to the street and darted towards Notre Dame. 

Plagg was fast. Faster than Chat Noir normally was, and Ladybug was surprised at how hard it was to keep up with him. 

“H-Hey Chat! Don’t leave me behind!” 

He only stopped a second to scoop her up into his arms before running off again. Her added weight didn’t even slow him down. 

“Sorry, Bug. The Akuma has long legs, so he’s faster than usual. I can’t slow down, so hang on!” 

She did, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. 

Adrien was going to kill Plagg if he didn’t die from ecstasy first. He could feel Ladybug pressed tightly against him, and he loved every bouncing second of it. 

Soon they reached the construction site, with the Akuma hot on their tail. 

“Split up,” Plagg commanded and Ladybug gave a firm nod, following right along with him. 

While Adrien was basically on autopilot, he noted that this fight felt a lot like being on the jungle gym when he was a kid. He swung on the bars, twisting up levels onto the scaffolding, the akuma chasing after with each turn. 

Except, the akuma was long, and he was starting to get tangled in all the bars. 

“Oh no!” Ladybug feigned a cry. “I’m stuck! He might be able to get my Miraculous!” 

“You’re mine!” Called the akuma, twisting around a pole and darting for her. As he was about to snag her, she dropped and spun on her bent knees away. 

“Whoops, not so stuck after all!”

“I’m going to—“ The akuma reached out their arm, stretching and stretching to grab at her ears. But he never reached her. He was out of length, and hopelessly tangled in the mass of wood and metal. “No! No!” He wriggled, trying to untie himself, but Plagg had already found the akumatized item in the akuma’s back pocket. A roll of measuring tape. 

“Akuma, coming in hot!” He called, as he smashed the tape. 

The black butterfly emerged, and Ladybug caught it and purified it easily. “Bye bye little butterfly!” 

One cure later, the relative damage done to the scaffoldings was repaired, and the akuma victim, a short man, was returned to ground level. 

“Wow! We didn’t even have to use our powers today! Great work, kitty!” She praised as he raised her fist.

He bumped her back with a grin. “Thank you, Bug. Hope you didn’t mind me taking charge. I just figured with you being the guardian and all, having some shared responsibility would really help you out.” 

She exhaled with a breath, her shoulders relaxing. “Ugh, you have no idea. When that akuma alert went off, I was already dreading it. It’s been a long day.” 

Plagg frowned. “A long day?” Even after their shopping spree and awesome lunch? “Do you need to talk about it?”

She ground her toes on the roof of the church. “Are you busy? Plagg said you were doing something…” 

“Oh, I was napping. I have all the time in the world for you, Ladybug.” 

“Want to get some ice cream, then?”

“Only if you let me pay.” 

She dramatically put a hand to her forehead, “oh, if you must!” 

Plagg chuckled with her, and then took off running.

“Hey! I never said it was a race!” She called back. 

“You never said it wasn’t either!” He shouted back.

When she finally located Andre’s ice cream cart, he was already sitting and waiting with her order. “Your ice cream, my lady?”

“You’re so fast! Have you just been holding out on me all this time?!” She huffed, taking the cone from him. 

He shrugged. “Oh, I have a couple of tricks up my sleeves.” 

They enjoyed their ice cream in comfortable silence for a while, before Ladybug asked, “hey, you’re a boy, right?”

“Last I checked.” 

She shook her head at her dumb question. “Right. Um…I have a friend. Guy friend.” 

Plagg crossed his legs. “OoooOOoooo is it him?”

Ladybug blushed. “Yes.” 

“Tell me everything.”

Inside his head, Adrien started to panic. This could only end badly for them!

“Well today…he was acting really weird. Usually, he’s really nice and reserved and polite…I know he can be silly and rambunctious, but…today, he was larger than life. He took us out for an expensive lunch, and then shopping for clothes that would make his dad angry. I think it’s a rebellious streak, but my gal friend said his money has gone to his head…” She scuffed her foot on the floor. “I’m just worried. I don’t want him to change…but I don’t want him to fake being someone he’s not just to make others happy. I guess I’m just confused. What do you think?” 

Plagg finished his cone in one gulp, hiding his face right after. “I think it’s just puberty.” 

She did not think that was amusing. “Yeah right.” 

“Has handsome rich boy ever shown signs of materialistic superiority?”

“No, he wears the same clothes all the time, and never flaunts the things he owns—“ 

“Then I think your gal pal is off base. It probably is rebellion. Just…be a safe place for him, and I’m sure it’ll end up okay.” 

“A safe place? What do you mean?” 

“I’m not sure what this dude is rebelling for. You’d probably know. Is his family…strict?”

“Very.” 

“And controlling?”

“Extremely.” 

“Okay, so if I was in his shoes, I’d want a friend that was trustworthy for me to confide in. Rebelling is liberating and exciting, but also extremely scary, because it’s risky. He needs to have someone to have his back in case things go south.” He massaged her shoulder. “And it would be best if that friend was soft and smelled nice.”

Ladybug smacked his shoulder. “When did you get so wise?”

“I hide a lot of wisdom under my ‘dumbass’ veneer.”

Ladybug cackled loudly, making Plagg smile and Adrien swoon.  

“You can be a dumbass sometimes,” Ladybug admitted. “But you’re my dumbass.” 

“Aww, thanks bug!” He grinned. “So, handsome rich boy is all that’s on your mind? I know identity clues have to be avoided and all, but I like knowing stuff that’s going on in your life. And I think I can manage another golden nugget of advice as well, if needed.” 

Ladybug frowned, obviously something else cropping up in her mind. “Actually…there’s something I haven’t told you that I probably should have.” 

“I’m all ears. I literally have four of them.” He twitched his cat ears.

She reached up and rubbed them, an affectionate look on her face as she felt the fur under her fingertips. “Not too long ago, I was expelled from school.” 

“Ladybug is a bad student in her civilian life?” He joked.

“No! I’m not!” She damn-near cried. “Sorry, I just…ugh. I was framed. There’s this girl in my class that…she lies with every breath. I know she has a crush on my crush, but she’s lying and manipulating to get her way to him. She works with him now too.” 

Plagg knew there was certainly more to the story than that, but he had to play dumb as Chat Noir. “Lying is bad and all, but it’s not really your problem, is it? She’ll get caught in her web eventually.”

“Argh, that’s what Ad—my boy said too. Take the high road. And it made sense, for what he knew about her at the time…but what he didn’t know was that she threatened me. Threatened to take all my friends and him away, just because I told her to stop lying.”

This was a shock to both kwami and holder. “She threatened you?” 

“Yeah. And she went through with it. She got me expelled. Apparently, according to my boy, he sort of convinced her to double lie to get me un-expelled. She’s been quiet ever since, which has been a few weeks, but…she keeps staring at me. It’s unnerving.” 

“I suppose it would be, with her track record.” 

“I didn’t want you to find out about this, but I have to tell you. She’s almost gotten me akumatized, twice.” 

Plagg slapped a hand over his mouth with a gasp. 

Lila was a nuisance for Adrien, but she was a problem for Marinette. No, an imminent threat. This changed his attack strategy…though it started to look like Adrien’s three problems were weaved together. The whole situation was a little more delicate than he had considered at first. 

“I’ve beaten both akumas off, but I worry about the future. I’m trying to come up with a contingency plan, but for right now it’s just ‘don’t get upset’.” 

“I’ll try to come up with a plan too. Maybe next time, you could hand your earrings off to Tikki for a little while, if things start to get dicey. She can bring them to me, since she knows who I am.” 

Ladybug gnawed at her lip. “Tikki’s been my greatest ally in fighting them off. If she’s not there…” 

Plagg rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Bug, you’re the practical one here. What happens when you don’t give Tikki your earrings, and you don’t fight it off? When you’re so consumed with pain you don’t even see the Akuma coming? What then?” 

She shook her head. “You’re so right, I hate it.” She sighed. “That happened the last time too…I was only spared because Hawkmoth suddenly stopped his attack. That was the day I got expelled.”

“And I’ll follow the plan too. I haven’t gotten akumatized or anything, but it might only be a matter of time.”  

“Yeah…” It was awful to think about. Having to fight her partner was not something that Marinette wanted to do. But this loose plan was better than no plan. “Hey, it’s getting pretty late. I have a project I have to finish up.” 

“Oh, of course, go on home.” Plagg insisted. 

“Thanks for the Ice Cream, and for lending an ear. You’re the best, Kitty.” 

Plagg smiled at her, though she couldn’t see through his mask. His eyes crinkled in mirth. “I try.” 

“Tell Plagg I still have that cheese danish if he wants it. Night, Chat.” 

“Night, Bug.” 

And she swung off into the distance. 

Plagg took out his baton and made his own way home. He knew Adrien didn’t really want to be transformed any longer than he had to be. 

He landed inside the mansion, and called, “Claws in.” 

Adrien came flying out of the ring, and Plagg caught him carefully in his hands. “How you feeling, kiddo?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” said Adrien, weakly. “You didn’t even use my power, why am I so tired?” 

“How much cheese did you eat today?”

“None.” Adrien scrunched up his nose. “Come to think of it, I didn’t eat anything today.” 

“That would certainly do it.” Plagg said, with a sigh. He took out a wheel of camembert and took out a wedge for Adrien, holding it in front of his face. 

Normally, Adrien couldn’t stand the smell. It was putrid and foul and moldy…but this…this was on a different level. Curse Plagg’s disgusting body! He sat up and helped himself to a nibble of cheese. A nibble turned into a bite, and a bite turned into a full inhale, almost taking off his fingers. 

“Better?” 

Adrien sighed as his energy started to return. “Remind never to complain about your eating habits.” 

Plagg grinned. “Oh it's a deal!” 

Adrien’s phone rang, and Plagg reached to answer. 

“Who is it?” Asked Adrien. 

“It’s Marineeeeeeetteeeee~!” Plagg sang, and connected the call, putting it on speaker for Adrien to hear. 

“Hey Pooh Bear.” 

“H-hey uh, Tigger? No no that was dumb. Sorry, hi Adrien.” 

Plagg and Adrien shared a look of fondness. She was just too cute sometimes. 

“Whats up?” Pried Plagg. 

“Uh, not-not much! I just finished your second shirt! I can do more tomorrow, but for now…” 

“I’ve got an outfit picked out for tomorrow, don’t worry. And you’ll love it.” 

“Will I really? Or will it turn me into a pillar of salt?”

“Have a little faith in me, Mari.”

“I—of course. Did you just call me Mari?”

“Yeah, I thought it was about time I gave you a nickname. Is that okay? Or are you okay with Pooh Bear?”

Marinette’s giggle was adorable, as it was filled with thinly veiled embarrassment. “Call me whatever you like! I don’t mind!” 

“Great! What’s my nickname?”

“I don’t know? Do you want one?”

“Only from you, Pooh Bear!” He sang. 

“Um…I’ll have to think about it. I think I’ve heard Lila and Chloe both call you ‘Adri’, so I’ll try to come up with something else.” 

“I appreciate that.” Plagg said, as Adrien smiled fondly at the phone. It sure was considerate of her to think about that.

“And Adrien?” Her tone conveyed so much. So much more than Adrien could understand. But it brought a warmth to his face. 

“Yes?”

“I’m here for you. You know that, right? Whatever you need. An ear, a h-h-hug. Whatever. I…I care about you.” 

Adrien wiped a paw under his eyes, fully prepared for tears to take him. 

“I care about you too,” Plagg said, not faking the genuine appreciation in his voice. “I appreciate everything you do for me.”

“I-…” She trailed off, and Adrien wondered if she was going to say something else. But instead, she just exhaled and said. “It’s getting kind of late. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course, Pooh Bear!” 

She laughed. “Thanks Adrien, goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.” And he ended the call. 

“She took your advice.” Adrien noted.

“She took Chat Noir’s advice. She trusts him after all.” 

Adrien sat on the desk, still feeling a storm brewing inside of him. He was still upset about Plagg’s behavior with his father…but he was starting to come around. Marinette never called him, and her conversations with him were never so easy. Was this actually working?

“Adrien,” Plagg started, scratching between his ears. “I’m sorry for hurting you. If there was a way to humble your father without hurting you in the process, I’d do it…but right now…”

“I understand, Plagg.” Adrien said with a hopeful smile. “It sucks but…that Chloe-tantrum you threw was really funny.”

Plagg beamed at him. 

“And,” Adrien added. “After hearing the whole truth about Lila, I’m fully on board with whatever you want to do to her.”

“Fully?”

“Absolutely. This bitch needs to go.”

The mansion was nearly silent in the night, so Plagg’s evil cackle echoed and echoed, sending goosebumps down the neighbor’s spines.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #adrienette #adrien and plagg #I'll handle this #fanfiction #ladybug

[gloriousmonsters]

Also Scheherazade?

whoops that's another 2-for-one WIP file, which I only realized when I opened it lol. The first one is the Xue Yang's Absolutely Horrible Lotus Pier Stay fic, where xue yang is captured by jiang cheng and buys more time to live by repeatedly promising he knows ways of summoning wwx. and also having very dubiously consensual ill-advised sex with him where he encourages jiang cheng to think about wwx while doing it and then attacks him emotionally because if xy's having a bad time ain't nobody having a good time

the other one is I think item 3 on the 'ways for xisuyao to happen' list I made, aka the dead dove one set post successful burial mounds 2.0 canon divergence, with lan xichen going quietly mad under house arrest. it's very sexy and upsetting and i keep only adding to it in tiny bits over time because it's hard to hit that particular horny + distressing balance, but I'm happy with what I have so far

so this is just the 'person in confinement copes with it really badly' file

have a snippet of the xisuyao one!

He still writes, of course. Polite letters, even warm at times; light on political detail, but filled with the keen eye for beauty, the swift wit, the crafty attention to small matters that had first won Lan Xichen in the past. He tells anecdotes of the crop of young sect leaders, observations that seem to hold great fondness for the young men and women trying to live up to their parents' short-cut legacies. He assures Lan Xichen that the Gusu Lan is well (as long as you behave, written between the lines) and tells him that out in the fields, the gentians are in bloom. In another letter he writes: The first cold wind of autumn makes me think of you.

(It was on the first chilly night of the new season, back then...)

LanXichen puts the memory aside, and he burns the letter, as he has all the others, so he will not be tempted to read it again. The servants must tell Jin Guangyao what becomes of them, but he keeps writing; once a month, utterly regular, as if he is something that can be relied upon.

#i was going to excerpt the first one because #that's what the file title actually refers to #but the only bits I have of it are (a) hard to break apart #(b) VERY nsft (c) VERY violent #anywho #WIP meme

[derekcasey]

He Knows | Dasey Fic

Derek and Casey haven’t spoken in 7 years, but they meet once again at a bar where Casey’s friends are trying to hook her up with someone.

Read on FF.net 

For Best Formatting Read on Ao3

----

Haley: Casey. Come out with us! It’ll be fun!

Lindz: Not gonna happen Hale. The last time she came out was like… freshman year. And that was only because she was trying to impress us.

Haley: Pleeeeeease Caaaase.

Casey sighs, looking at her phone. She doesn’t want to go out. What’s the point? She’s aware her standards are pretty high. If they weren’t she’d be married already. She just wishes she knew what her standards were. It just seems that every man she meets fails some sort of internalized test that she doesn’t even know the questions to.

But they’re right. It has been a while. Not as long as Linz said, but it had definitely been a few years. And maybe there’s a different crop of men to choose from. So she agrees to go with them. Nearing 30 years old, they aren’t really in the “go out every weekend” stage of their lives. Haley is actually married already and Linz is in a long-term relationship with her girlfriend. So Casey knows that this outing is really just an excuse for them to try to hook her up.

She puts on a tight red dress, curls her hair in loose curls, does her make-up to impress. But her heart isn’t in it. Maybe she’s just meant to die alone, an old spinster with ten cats.

When she hears the horn of Haley’s car sound, she puts on some strappy heels and heads out.

-

“Open yourself up, Casey.”

“What do you mean? I’m open!” She argues.

Haley raises an eyebrow and gestures to Casey’s arms that are crossed over her chest. Casey huffs, letting her arms fall to her side.

Linz comes back to their table with their drinks and hands them out. "Your seltzer m’lady.” She smirks, giving it to Haley.

Haley rolls her eyes, “Did you scope the place out?”

"Yes. A few potentials… there-” Linz flicks her head to the left of them where a group of three guys are huddled at the end of the bar. Casey takes them in, they’re cute… but… missing something. Haley looks at Casey for her reaction. Casey grimaces.

Linz nods, lowering her voice, “Then there’s him.” She tilts her head just slightly to the right and backwards. Casey looks over her shoulder to see a mess of reddish-brown curls. Her heart stops. She could only see the back of his head but it was unmistakably, regrettably him.

Her lack of response seemed to spur the girls on and as some other guy comes up to his right to talk to him, Haley gets a glimpse of his profile.

“Didn’t he go to Queens?”

Casey feels her breath leave her body. This can’t be happening.

Linz turns to take another look at him. “Looks familiar. Maybe.”

“Yeah, I think he was the captain of the Gaels for a couple years.”

And then they’re all looking at him and Casey still hasn’t said a word, but someone scoots past him and he turns around to see and catches Casey’s glance. It’s only for a second, but it feels like an eternity and her cheeks are burning when he looks away.

Linz turns back quickly, laughing. “Shit. Whoops.”

Haley is elbowing her. “You have to go talk to him.”

Casey finally finds her voice, though she clears her throat first, “No- I mean. You said it yourself. Hockey. We’d have nothing in common.”

Linz supplies, "No one’s saying you have to marry the guy.” She pauses, noting the pink of Casey’s cheeks, “Case. You’re blushing, and the dude looked at you all of one millisecond.”

“I am not blushing.” But the blood rushing to her face betrays her even further.

“I’m going over there.” Linz announces before turning on her boot-clad heel and walking over to him.

Casey is mortified. She gets up from her stool and runs after her but it’s too late. Linz taps him on the shoulder and gives a smooth, “Hey there.”

She’s not his type, but he still gives her a once-over and smirks, “Hey to you too.”

“My fri-” Casey clears her throat, garnering the attention of them both.

“Lindsay, hey. I- uh- Haley needs- you at- over at the table.” Casey says, and his smirk grows wider, watching her flounder for words. Linz is confused, but seems to view this as Casey taking it upon herself to start a conversation with him, so she shrugs and walks back to the table.

“Casey.”

And she can’t breathe again. She hasn’t seen him in… who knows how long (she knows, it’s been 6 years, 9 months, and 3 weeks). He looks different but the same. And he looks at her differently but also the same way.

“Derek.”

The eyebrow raise, and the smirk, and she wants to punch him.

“Who’s your friend?”

Yeah, she’s gonna punch him.

“A lesbian.”

Both eyebrows go up at that point. “Hmm. I guess that checks out. Not married at 30, so you decide to switch teams?”

She rolls her eyes. “As fun as this little reunion has been, I’m going to go back to my friends and pretend you don’t exist.” Casey turns to leave.

“You are a pro at that.” She stops in her tracks. He’s baiting her, she knows it. She takes a breath and keeps walking.

“Nonono, you go back there right now!” Haley demands.

“He’s a jerk.” Casey explains, grabbing her drink and taking a large sip.

“Was he a jerk? Or was he just sexually interested in you, Case?” Linz asks. Casey scowls at her. “What?" Sometimes you have trouble deciphering the difference.”

“He did watch you walk away.” Haley points out and okay. That’s… information she didn’t need.

Casey folds her arms on the table and lays face-down onto them. Haley tries, “Come on, Case. You gotta get out there and have some fun.”

“But at what cost?” She whines.

“Hey…” Linz says, softer. Casey lifts her head a bit to look at her. Linz is smiling at her, “Let’s take a shot, and get on that dance floor. You can stun all these fuckers with your rhythm and they’ll be falling all over you.”

And something in her, some primal desire, lifts her from her stool and heads to the bar for the aforementioned shots. The music is pounding and as the alcohol courses through her veins, she feels emboldened. The three of them get lost in the music, the bodies on the dance floor weaving in and out of each other. She’s not drunk, but her inhibitions are definitely falling to the wayside.

After a few songs, a hand snakes around her waist. When her head falls back against the person’s chest, she expects to see Linz or Haley. Instead she sees his familiar brown eyes. It’s not the first time they’ve danced with each other. It’s not even the first time they’ve been this close to one another, but something about it is different.

She tries not to overthink it, just moves with the music. When he breathes, she feels his chest expand. His hand is gripping her waist at just the right pressure. She sees Haley in her peripheral and her wide-eyed glee is almost enough to take her out of the moment but this might be the only time she gets to enjoy this with him. So she shuts her eyes, and leans closer against him, wrapping an arm around his neck, hand nestling in his hair.

She can feel his breath on her neck, and it sends a shiver of delight down her spine. She can’t bring herself to face him, but just for these few minutes, she allows herself to feel him, to be close, to touch, to be touched. When the song shifts, the rhythm is stagnant but the variance brings her to reality. She slows her movements. His grip tightens on her waist. “Case.” He breathes. The music is loud, but his mouth is so close (too close) to her ear that she feels the vibrations of the word, rather than hears it.

She pulls away from him, turning to see the look in his eyes. She can’t read him, which seems impossible. She always can. But it has been seven years (6 years 9 months and 3 weeks). So who is she to say she can read him? She barely knows him, really. She thinks he looks disappointed, but he can’t be, shouldn’t be.

She doesn’t say anything else and neither does he as she walks away. She keeps walking until she’s outside. It only takes Linz and Haley 30 seconds to find their way out as well and get to Casey, who is leaning against the brick of the building, eyes shut tight, hand on her chest.

“You okay, Case?” Haley asks, and Linz rubs Casey’s shoulder soothingly.

“I’m fine. I just- I needed some air.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” Casey asks, because what is there to talk about? They won’t ever understand the scope of how badly she just monumentally screwed up.

“I mean… how seriously into each other you and that dude are?”

“Honestly, I thought I’d have to hose the two of you down.”

“No, I would not like to talk about it. What I would really like is to go back three hours in time, politely decline your offer to go out, put my pajamas on and watch grey’s anatomy for the 20th time like I normally do on a Friday night.”

“You are just a barrel of fun, aren’t you?” And he’s back. Her head falls back against the brick, knocking it just enough to ground her, not enough to hurt.

“Would you just leave me alone?” She whines, and her heart isn’t in it.

“Is that really what you want?” And he already knows the answer.

She looks at him. “Stop it. I don’t know what- what you think is going to happen here, but-”

“Fine.” His jaw is set. Maybe it’s anger…

“Good.”

He looks like he’s going to say something else, but he just turns, shows his stamp to the bouncer and goes back into the bar. She watches the whole thing, and there’s a part of her that wants to follow him, flow with the music again and get lost in him, just for tonight.

Haley must notice the forlorn look on her face, “Let's… let’s get you home, Case.”

-

So… are we gonna talk about last night?

No.

You knew each other, didn’t you?

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t have it in her right now.

-

There’s a knock on her door, she expects Linz. She’s the type to not let things fester. She goes to couples’ therapy with her girlfriend Erin even though they were already the most functional and healthy couple to begin with. She’s always saying “We need to address our feelings as they come up.” and it’s just… exhausting. After running from her feelings for over a decade, she’s thinks she has that whole process under control, thank you very much.

But it’s not Linz.

It’s him.

“Got your address from George.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. She might kill George, and then this whole issue will be moot. Because then they’d no longer be step-siblings. So there’s that.

“Kinda sad, if you think about it, sis."

She takes a deep breath, fire in her eyes. “If I wanted you to know where I live, I would have told you.”

“You’re really gonna keep going with this ‘I hate Derek’ schtick?”

“Oh, it is sincerely not a schtick.”

“Your hips say otherwise, Case.”

And she wants to say her hips are dirty liars. But that’s really lame and Derek would never let her live it down (let’s not forget it’s also, of course, untrue), “Why are you here, Derek?”

“Not even gonna invite me in?”

She sighs but steps aside for him to enter. He looks around her living room. She notices him eyeing her pictures. She has pictures of Nora & George. Lizzie. Marti. Edwin. Of Emily, of Haley and her husband, of Linz and Erin. But none of him.

“You were always quite the decorator. Take after Nora that way.”

“Can you just get to it, Derek?”

He sits on the couch, making himself at home in a ways that makes her furious. “No pleasantries?” He puts a foot on the coffee table. She raises her eyebrow at it and he puts it back down on the floor.

“Okay then. Let’s start with, what the fuck, Casey?” He lets out a laugh but it’s not funny and the laugh seems to know that too. She looks at the floor, hoping that it would open up and swallow her into it.

“I don-”

“Seven fucking years. You sure have gone to a lot of trouble just to cut me out of your life.”

She’s pictured this moment a thousand times. She didn’t know it would hurt this badly.

“What do you want me to say?”

He laughs. “God. You really - you hate me that much? Won’t even give me a proper explanation?”

“Things change. People grow apart.” She lies. He stands up, and they’re close (too close).

“No. What you did was purposeful.” He takes a step toward her, “And I know I can be a piece of shit sometimes, but I thought-” He searches her eyes, for what? She looks away. He’s right, but she can’t admit it.

“We’ve always hated each other, Derek. Why should we put the family through our fighting? It was easier to-”

“Yeah, that’s just it isn’t it. It was easy. Easy for you to just-” He takes a breath, shakes his head. Why is he even this angry? “We don’t fucking hate each other, Casey.” He’s looking at the wall of photos, “I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t hate you either.” It’s small. So small, she hopes he doesn’t hear it, but he does.

He looks at her. Even though he seemingly knows this is true, it looks like her admission just saved his life.

“That’s- that’s why I had to. Do what I did.”

“You’ve avoided me at all costs because you don’t hate me?” He looks confused, but why? He knows already. They’ve both known it. For years. But admitting it… giving it breath and letting it sit out in the open between them… that’s a whole other beast.

“You should go.”

“Fuck that. We’re finally getting somewhere. I haven’t seen you in 7 years and then- then we meet at a club we fucking dance together like that and-”

“I was drunk.”

“Buzzed, maybe. Come on, Case. You were always a terrible liar.”

“We can’t do this.”

“Do what?” And why is he making her say it. He knows what.

“You know what.”

“Say it.”

She doesn’t.

“You should go.” She tries again.

“I’m not leaving until you fucking say it, Casey. Tell me the real reason you want me to leave, and I’ll go, if that’s what you really want.”

She doesn’t know when she started crying. It’s a silent cry. The tears just well up and slide down her cheeks. He’s still close and he’s still staring at her and she can’t take it. She shuts her eyes, tears getting caught in her eyelashes.

He reaches a hand to her face and thumbs away some of the tears.

“I love you.”

It spills from her mouth, and his thumb moves from her cheek to her lips.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks, simply, patiently, and it’s so unlike Derek, but so like him. In his moments of softness, of kindness.

She shakes her head, opening her eyes. He’s staring back at her, eyes her lips momentarily. It’s a question, she knows, and she nods minutely before he leans in and captures her lips with his own.

It’s everything. All of their pent-up aggression and rage towards one another, all of their love, all of their desire. It’s in this kiss. It’s in their hands as they hold each other. Finding balance within one another. They breathe and kiss and bite, and gasp and they move together. And he returns the I love you into her skin.

It ends with them on the floor, like many other times in the past, their bodies tangled together, just with less clothing than normal.

“What do we- what do we tell them?” She asks, when it’s over.

“Casey, they already know.”

#dasey #derek venturi #casey mcdonald #life with derek #tw stepcest

[ryttu3k]

Doing those ship meme questions only it's the new OT3 (Beckett/Sascha/Ilias) because they're my main source of serotonin these days. Occasional appearances from Anatole and Lucita, too.

Not doing all, but there are A Lot.

1. Who's the one who's reckless and always getting into trouble while the other gotta pull em out

Beckett and Sascha actually do have a lot of braincells between them but none of them are in use for 'can sense danger'. Ilias has gained some minor common sense since his 'hey, I'm going to ask our Antediluvian for power to help face its favourite childe oh whoops I am possessed' thing and is usually the one sighing fondly and saving their asses.

2. Who's the one to send the other "I love my gf/bf" memes

Ilias. 100% Ilias. He would go out in public in a shirt saying 'I <3 Sascha' and calling them ‘my flower’ while Sascha is just pleased they can't blush any more.

3. Who's the one who listens to a music genre the other doesn't like and how does the other react

God their music tastes are all over the place. Sascha is over a thousand years old and has seen and heard A Lot. They consider the Romantic period 'modern music'. Beckett is similar albeit with about 350 years of it. Ilias got hurled from 1233 to 2004 and after a period of ??? went, "Oh, Romanian music!" and it was. Dragostea Din Tei. Like can you imagine one moment it’s 1233 and the next moment you are listening to Dragostea Din Tei. Also thanks to the language drift they only caught about a quarter of the words so it was this whole thing where he almost, almost was understanding it but the rest was just, “...what.” And that’s how Ilias discovered modern music.

Anyway yeah they’ve pretty much decided that their collective music tastes are so disparate no one is allowed to comment on them.

4. Which one spoils the other more and do they ever get competitive to show the other more love

Honestly, they all kind of spoil each other, albeit in different ways. Like Ilias will just randomly pop a handmade flower crown on Sascha’s head. Beckett will occasionally find an extremely rare book on his desk and know Sascha found it for him. Beckett always tells Sascha first when he’s found something cool so they can be the first to investigate it. And they absolutely get competitive, yeah.

5. How many years did it take to get married or was it just not for them

Sascha and Ilias have a mutual blood bond, which is more or less the equivalent of thus. Beckett has a mutual bond with Anatole, but he and Sascha have a level-2 bond.

7. Are their friends/family supportive

 Honestly, uh, Sascha and Ilias don’t really have anyone else. Beckett’s companions tend to range from, “They’re terrifying but I trust your judgment :D” (Anatole) to “hahahahahaha if Vykos harms one hair on Beckett’s head I’ll end them” (Lucita) to “WHY” (Aristotle, Okulos, most others tbh).

8. How does one comfort the other when the other is in distress/having a panic attack/crying

Sascha is the one most prone to panic attacks because trauma is a bitch and basically just... Beckett and Ilias both respond by with hugging/gentle restraint (if they’re okay with touch) or by giving them space and doing things like running a hot bath when they’re touch-averse.

9. Which one dissociates

Honestly Sascha spent most of 1234 to 2006 lowkey dissociating, which is fair when there’s literally another essence fused to yours. Post-Dracon, they still get the occasional dissociative episode, but it’s much easier to bring them back to themself.

10. Which one stares at the other's booty like “damn” and how does the other react when catching them

All three tbh. Beckett stares at Sascha, Sascha either gets a bit self-conscious or a bit ;) , depending on mood. Sascha stares at both Beckett and Ilias and gets a bit embarrassed when caught (Beckett will laugh it off, Ilias will basically be ;D). Ilias stares at both and is completely shameless about it because he may no longer be on the Path of Pleasure but he’s absolutely not going to feel ashamed for admiring his gorgeous lovers.

11. When they live together what kinda place do they live in? What does their home look like?

Beckett and Sascha travel too much for one place, honestly, and Ilias accompanies them a lot. They do have a few houses scattered throughout the world, though, including one in the Carpathians (nowhere near Brasov, tyvm). Not really as big as the monastery, it’s mostly like... big library, a few comfortable places to sleep or rest, Ilias likes having a garden these days and grows a lot of flowers.

12. What do their dates look like

Museum heists.

13. How does each act when getting drunk

Ilias gets even more handsy. Actually he can get to be a bit of a pain, but he does listen immediately if one of them tells him to tone it down. Beckett gets very enthusiastic and fired-up and a bit more feral and he’s gonna go find Enoch right now and prove Caine wasn’t real once and for all. Sascha, uh, tends to get a bit emotional and also very talkative, but can literally like. Talk their way into minor breakdowns. Basically less barriers.

14. Which one rolls over in the morning evening to wake up the other one just to kiss them

All three :3

15. Have they saved each other's lives before

Yup!

Ficverse-wise, Sascha did also save Ilias from becoming a bogatyr to the Eldest, although that was also Sascha and Beckett both saving themselves by being emotionally honest. Yeah XD

16. Does one have an interest the other think is weird but wants to listen to it regardless

Ilias’ spirituality conflicts a bit with Beckett’s... atheism, I guess? Like he’s definitely not sure he believes in the spirits that Ilias regularly works with as a Koldun, but he’s willing to keep a relatively open mind. (He’s a bit less open-minded in Sascha’s belief in - and support of - Caine, given that he’s literally based his career around the metaphor theory!)

17. Which one uses cropped hentai as reaction images

Sascha.

They have troll tendencies, okay.

18. Does one of them kinkshame the other

There is absolutely no kinkshaming here. Listen Ilias was a Priest of Jarilo. Sascha was once on the Path of Pleasure too. Beckett seduced Dracula for information then forgot to ask his question. They’re all very open about everything.

There may be teasing about the odd hobby or interest but it’s pretty lighthearted.

19. Is one of them self conscious about their body? If so how does the other comfort them

Beckett occasionally has Moments over his hands and worries about hurting Sascha or something. They basically respond by being like “are you kidding the claws are hot as hell”. On occasion, Beckett will get one of them to Vicissitude them down if he wants to use his hands more, although they’ll regrow and be achey for a night or two afterwards.

20. Say they were cuddling on the bed while listening to record player playing the background. Which song is playing?

Honestly I want to say Third Eye by Florence + the Machine just for fic reasons. When I was writing Mantle I saw it very much as Beckett towards Sascha, but it fits with Ilias towards them as well.

I have no idea how they would have discovered F+tM but anyway.

23. What kinda joyrides do they go on? Relaxing ones or wild ones?

It. I imagine it usually involves police chases. When it doesn’t Beckett will occasionally go wolf so he can stick his head out the car window like :P

Shh don’t tell anyone.

25. Do people ever get annoyed of their pda

God probably. One of the main exceptions is Anatole, who’ll basically go, “Oh! Are we cuddling?” and flop on top of Beckett.

27. Which one’s the red, which one’s the blue

They’re all red. Fear. Ilias is probably closest to blue.

28. Are either of them mentally ill, if so how do they help one another cope

Sascha has both PTSD (from Symeon and Michael, and from the Eldest) and C-PTSD (from being bound to the Dracon for literal centuries). Also depression and anxiety, which are... pretty common with those. See question 8 for some of the coping methods, the rest is just... taking each day as it comes. Like they’ve lived a very long time, but they only got free of the Dracon in 2006, so it’s still a very new thing.

Ilias has some trauma from some of the things he’s had to do to survive since waking up with the Thirst of Ages, and gets into guilt spirals on occasion. He mostly focuses on Path of Nocturnal Redemption methods to work through it; he’s kind of adverse to anyone seeing him vulnerable like that. He knows Sascha has done some awful shit, but they weren’t themself at the time so Ilias feels it doesn’t count, and Beckett is like, Humanity 6? He just doesn’t get it, so Ilias keeps it to himself.

Beckett has an odd, acquired one - his experiences in Jerusalem left him with the ability (if it could be called an ability!) to occasionally hear the Cobweb (the Malkavian Madness Network). While his connection isn’t nearly as strong as an actual Malkavian’s, he does get odd flashes of Insight; less helpfully, it can occasionally get, uh, loud in his head. This tends to ramp up a bit with proximity to Malkavians, so when he’s around Anatole, Anatole will help him filter the voices and thoughts out by teaching him meditation techniques. (Given that Anatole - correctly - feels responsible for Beckett being afflicted thus, he wants to make sure it doesn’t hit his lover too badly.)

29. Does one have a spot on them where they would melt when the other kisses them there

Give Beckett head scritchies and he’ll turn into a puddle :3

34. Are they a reckless couple or safe

*loud, prolonged laughter*

37. Do they get into fights often? If so what do they fight over and how do they make up?

Sascha and Ilias are usually... very chill; if they argue, it’s over the other’s safety, like Ilias wanting to do something reckless and Sascha being very much ‘please do not’. Sascha and Beckett argue a bit more, although thankfully they have now stopped trying to literally kill each other XD When they do, it’s usually ideological, related to Gehenna, Caine, et cetera. Sascha is still very much a part of the Sabbat, and Beckett is, well, basically an atheist.

40. Who would fight in honor for the other if someone would insult them

All three tbh. Here’s a fun bit from the novel:

Still really dig this bit from BJD, too!

No misgendering on Beckett’s watch!

42. How would one react if the other was to die

Uh.

Poorly.

Like most of Sascha’s sanity slippage was due to the Dracon’s essence being fused to their own and just how the Eldest... did that, but a good part of it was absolutely due to Ilias’ death.

43. Who dies first

...canonically, Ilias XD;;

It’s okay he gets better.

#vampire the masquerade #feral nerd #mx meat crimes #tzinnamon roll #caymanshipping #heartflowershipping #ivoryringshipping

[metellastella]

Mao Mao Pride Week Prompts, Part 3

A continuation of the prompts put out by @maomaosmother Part 1 https://metellastella.tumblr.com/post/621726687992872960/hello-everyone-happy-pride-month-to-all-of-you Part 2 https://metellastella.tumblr.com/post/621834183114932224/mao-mao-pride-week-prompts

7. Marriage

“But first,” Mao’s sister clapped her hands together, “I wanna talk weddings some more!”

“Right on!” the badger agreed. He whooped. 

“Oh good grief,” Mao rolled his eyes. “Fine. You two can chat with the king about the possibility. And I reiterate. Possibility. When you’re ready to make good on your promise, come find me.” 

She clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Fine. Be the usual stick in the mud. Don’t know why I’m surprised.” 

He grabbed a few more things off his plate and left. 

“So,” she sat back down, “I guess if you favor men, the animals here didn’t have to petition for marriage laws to be amended, huh?” 

”Correct.” the lion replied. 

“Though some thought I was … ironically … being ‘biased.’ Oh well. Can’t help that. Royal power is absolute, for better or worse. I’ve traveled to other nations and, during debates, have suggested that they not use the term ‘marriage’ as I have. Law is, at least in some peoples’ opinions, supposed to be ‘secular,’ and not ‘religious,’ anyway, so why cling to a specific term that isn’t? Simply afford all the exact same rights to civil unions or domestic partnerships. Or make up a third designation. Much easier to get it passed that way. Bypasses a whole lot of entrenched resistance. People can hash out in their own communities what to do with the non-legal angles and rituals and what to call it. But for a ‘marriage’ certificate? What, after all, is a rhetorical difference, in the end?” the diplomat and statesman snapped his fingers. “And like that, less angst for absolutely everyone involved. It’s not always that easy to reconcile or find middle ground. I can’t think of practically any other issues where simply altering one single word could have that effect. Despite a couple of decades worth of rhetorical experience under my belt.”

He sat back, and interlaced his paws contentedly. “Some countries insisted they were still going to adjust tax breaks because of the very unlikely event of children. Unless surrogates are involved, and properly registered as such, to try to avoid wrangling over child custody. That’s a whole other kettle of fish to get into, obviously.” 

She nodded. “Well like Mao said, I’m not here to talk politics. Let’s hear your fantasies about the most important day of your life!”

The badger shook his head. “Well it’s not like that for everyone, but don’t get me wrong, I wanna hear, too!” he said excitedly. 

“Erm … “ the lion looked down. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. 

“It’s just … I’m more enthusiastic about the idea than Mao, but I’m still a long way off from that myself. So, I don’t want to insult you by making you think I’m further along, just because I have envisioned a marriage … regardless of who the groom is.”

She frowned a little, thinking. “All right then.”

“But I would love to hear about some of your customs, in that event.”

Her face fell some more. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea.”

“Oh?”

“The homeland, though the majority is plenty accepting of pairing in general, has not approved marriage between men,” she said, “so any customs you applied to each other or one of you … might be seen as disrespectful. For example. Would Mao dress as the woman, since he’s chosen to sub? Not only do I think he would never, ever do that …” she looked at the badger for confirmation.

He shook his head, “Oh most definitely not.” He thought for a second. “Maybe that’s why he got up out of here, for that matter. He thought we were gonna suggest doing that. We’ve been to weddings like that. Again, a little like misgendering, no? Even in the rare cases where he gets a mind for it, he’s not at all like a typical sub.”

The badger paused. 

“He doesn’t really fit in when I would hang out with other subs. One panda I met just could not wrap his mind around Mao. It was kinda funny. Irritating for him, though. I would be totally down for dressing like the female counterpart in a wedding, if it were me. I’ve pictured it both ways. Maybe even a costume change in the middle?” he waggled his eyebrows. “Or whatever my partner wanted? If a polar bear gave me any direction I’d melt under his strong paw,” his gaze unfocused, and he hummed appreciatively. “Tuxedo? Coming right up. What color? What style? White wool tunic and stole, as is customary for you big guy? I’ll match you! Usus? My Ursus. My dear ursine. Coemptio? Confarreati? Gown? Dress? You got it, my bae bear. I’m male, sure, but a lot more loosey-goosey in that way. But. It’s not me.”

He sighed romantically. 

“If I understand Mao,” the lion said slowly, “in general, he’s less sentimental, at the very least in expression, so maybe it’s simply that he doesn’t get as wrapped up in it as you or I would.” 

The badger shrugged. 

“Also, women tend to get more excited about wedding planning. Not a hard and fast rule of course, but I think we’ve established that you and I have a lot more in common with women, so it makes sense we’d be more enamored, even if it didn’t necessarily need to be that way.”

The badger slapped his forehead. “Oh yeah, wow. How could I not think of that!” He put his paw down and gestured towards her. “I mean this whole conversation we've had a vibe and Mao has seemed the odd one out, gender wise, but I didn’t consider that.”

The badger went on, “Even without a wedding on the table, which is usually headed up by women in this part of the world, it’s often awkward in the first place for a typical guy to be in a room with all women and vice versa … so this visit has kinda been like that for him, I think. I mean, Mao’s always eager enough to go to a wedding, excited about hitting on and dancing with some ladies, and all, but that doesn’t mean he’d necessarily enjoy planning one. He might even leave it all up to you even if he was totally ready for it!” 

The three femme animals spent the next few hours discussing flower arrangements, color palettes, the band of tolerant aristocracy he would invite, and who among the clan would approve enough to come. That was hard for the sister to get through, as she thought of those she loved who would refuse to give their blessing and ‘miss all the fun.’

8. Self-Acceptance

Mao threw up his hands in exasperation. “This was different than anything anybody knew of. Other clans’ elders who had wielders hurt badly were brought in to consult. We wielders can be slammed around by dragons, can be thrown into the ground and make craters, and walk away. With lesser wielders, bruises could be shrugged off and healed. But SOMEHOW, the universe had, like a homing pigeon bent on mouse’s blood, found one little chink in our armor. . . . Delicate tails aren’t resistant enough to damage to withstand direct crush force. Some of the visiting canine elders spoke of a time when groups of semi-sapient non-magical hunting dogs had their flowing, floppy ears or long tails surgically cropped to keep them from injuring themselves on hunts. To potentially avoid something like this happening again … by cave-ins, like mine, by boulders hurled by some types of dragons, even just being stepped on by a dragon big enough …  Should all wielder animals, intending to fight these beasts … should every species with long tails start doing this removal with our children, they asked? With consent, of course. Like removing tonsils or primates removing the appendix? Lizards probably couldn’t do it, because their slanted gait was too dependent and their tails too heavy. So maybe just the tips? Surely the thicker parts of their tails withstand something like this? They asked. The elders of felines and canines and rodents and otters … the later they waited to dock tails in a trainee’s life, the more they would have to adjust to the missing counterbalance just as I was. They swarmed me and questioned me about it relentlessly. They were asking among themselves … What age would this terrible offered choice be appropriate?”

His green eyes widened in horror at these questions. As if he needed any more psychological stress after being temporarily crippled, he seemed to have altered the entire course of history with the way clans viewed preparation for wielder heroes.

“Inwardly, I felt like …” he once again tried to force the words out he had started before. “I felt like I was causing an implosion of the whole clan. The tranquil meditation spaces were overrun with visitors. Children still hid from me. Our elders argued over whether they should move me for the duration of my recovery, from the clan’s circle. They argued over what to do about the little ones. But didn’t I deserve to feel safe, too? Of course I was ripping everyone apart! It was what always happened when I was around! When we were all younger, and my sisters occasionally came to my defense from one another or dad, I felt it was somehow my fault they argued, too.”

Even if the elders made these new procedures for children voluntary, he would still be virtually ‘responsible’ for possibly unneeded selective surgical alteration of innocents.

“Blue says that’s common, for bullied children to feel like it’s their fault.”

He looked towards the door, probably thinking of the dog’s unruffled voice of reason.

“I try to listen to him. I try to like myself. B-but I … it seemed l-like my family w-was disintegrating because of m-m-me. And my stupid ‘mistake.’ The whole world of wielders, even! Sometimes it still does, when they visit …! Arguing over father’s treatment of me. Remember when my sister said she wasn’t sure starting arguments over lesser wielders was worth unsettling future heroes? Now imagine what I was thinking when the little ones didn’t feel safe in the circle of the clan because of me. I was drowning in self-blame and the only way I felt I could escape it was to work harder, push myself more, and get away from there.” 

Could Blue even help him out of this? The lion pictured him like a seeing eye dog this time, trying for all the world to lead the black cat out of such darkness. 

Bonus:

From my second story, Outnumbered. Tanya sashayed around the red-caped cat. “Hello Mittens.” “Tanya I swear if you do not stop calling me that, I’m going to use the wrong pronouns for you,” the cat threatened. “Touchy, touchy,” the tanuki tutted teasingly, but her normally chipper attitude got a dent in it. “As if that’s an even trade, anyway.” The masculine magic cat said gruffly, “Maybe not. But I’m tired of you mocking me without consequences. Just because that’s the only thing that ever gets under your skin is no fault of mine. Perky little miss.” She rolled her eyes. “So, you try to make gendering me correctly even sound derogatory. No wonder I broke up with you.” The cat’s fists tightened, but he spoke cooly. “If you can’t handle all this. I’ll just find someone who can.” 

“Like the king you’re serving as a bodyguard to?” the fox-like animal said in a silken tone. “The only kind of lion with no birth mane. Are you a chaser, you dog?” “First off. No. How dare you. Targeting gender non-conforming animals may not be officially dishonorable, but as a concept, it is,” the samurai bristled, “We’re not involved, and we’re never going to be. We’re not attracted to each other, as my nose could clearly tell if he was. Second of all. Since when do you have something against dogs?” “It’s an expression.” “An expression that’s derogatory towards dogs,” the cat sneered. “I can’t imagine the blue therapist dog could be less like that. It’s like ‘sexist pig.’ The yellow pig back in Pure Heart would be crushed if he ever heard someone utter it. Yet outside that nice little paradise, it’s a common saying. King Snugglemagne is having to adjust mightily to the outside world. You may be used to it, steeped in it, but for magic’s sake, stop teasing him about it.” “Oh, a king can’t take a little hardship?” she said lazily. “Of course not, he’s been ensconced in his fancy-pants palace. Now that he has an idea of how it is for everyone else, he crumples at the slightest trouble. Sorry I can’t muster up enough energy to care.” “You should care. Given that he has the same problems you do.” “With pronouns? Puh. Since I’m a roaming outlaw,” the orange animal said flouncily, “I don’t expect either other crooks or enforcers I encounter to respect that my gender doesn’t match my body’s smell. The former doesn’t even respect the law, so why should I take that personally? And the latter are more focused on getting me behind bars. So, no, not my problem. Too much of a bother.” “If you settled down, and got a respectable job,” the cat pointed out, “Established yourself as a constant presence, people would probably collectively accept you.” She laughed derisively. “Oh no, I value my freedom far more than that, Mi-” she swallowed back the nickname. He laughed just as derisively. “I see you do value my word on the matter, though,” he said suggestively. “Are you just not as tough as you make out, or do you still harbor some feelings for me, my sweet little illusionist?” 

She opened her mouth, but then shut it again. 

“You slippery mirage master,” he said “you do, don’t you?”

He paused. “Hm. ‘Master,’ maybe I should say ‘Mistress’?” he amended. “There’s . . . really no good choice there,” she chuckled hesitantly. “There are ‘Head Mistresses’ at some schools in Snugglemagne’s kingdom,” the cat pointed out. 

“Yes but . . . still has connotations. I don’t break the law that way,” she said, normally carefree attitude wobbling. “Even I have standards.”

“Hasn't stopped you from dangling the offer to get what you want,” he said. 

She blushed.

“Yeah, word gets around,” he went on blithely as she uncomfortably gripped one of her arms. “Don't know why I should be surprised that playing with hearts isn't beneath you. But more to the point. I know you’re ultimately reasonably principled in that arena, if really flirty. You ever want to get back together, babe, the invitation is open,” he winked. 

“And endure your jealous behavior again? I think not. I’ll file that away with other useless knowledge,” she said icily. 

“Oh that’s not like you,” he said in a low baritone. “You’re sweet to everyone, even if they can’t catch the mocking tone sometimes.” “Not everyone’s as smart as you, cupcake.” He looked caught off guard by the compliment. “She brushed her fingers under his chin. “I guess you’ll just have to miss me.”

She somersaulted away from him, waving goodbye and blowing a kiss.  He said under his breath, “As if I’d ever misgender you. You may play a lot of mind games, love, but you didn’t catch that bluff.”

Comic page: https://metellastella.tumblr.com/post/621837213819437056/mao-maos-specific-trigger-should-not-be First chapter of Piercing the Swordsman https://metellastella.tumblr.com/post/617045879413719040/piercing-the-swordsman-chapter-1

@beesechurguer @king-himbo

#maomaosprideweek2020 #mao mao heroes of pure heart #mao mao snugglemagne #snugglemao #badgerclops #mao mao sisters #fanfiction #LGBT Pride Month #piercingtheswordsman

[silver-lily-louise]

Souls are a Serious Business

She doesn’t have all of her memories back, not yet, but she’s still collecting little fragments every other day; the way light catches in a familiar stained glass window, or the thwack of a bō, or the burn of a particular rune triggering a sudden recollection. But she’s gained something different today, a security that slots into place as some fear inside her is soothed – because now, she’s tied to the Shadow World in a way she wasn’t before.

In which Clary and Izzy become parabatai. 

Read it on AO3, or below!

~oOo~

‘…If aught but death part thee and me,’ Izzy says, her voice strong and clear, her stance tall and proud. ‘If aught but death part thee and me,’ Clary repeats, a little breathless under the weight of commitment, because this is it.

With the final lines spoken, the bond shimmers fully into place, and Brother Zachariah smiles. ‘Isabelle Sophia Lightwood, and Clarissa Adele Fairchild. You are now parabatai. May the Angel watch over you and all those you protect.’

The room erupts into respectful applause (and one whooping cheer that Clary recognises as Simon), and Izzy’s professional composure breaks, her face splitting into a beaming smile as she squeezes the hand still linked with Clary’s own. ‘We did it,’ she says.

Clary laughs, pulling her new parabatai into a quick hug, a little giddy with the sudden doubling of her own happiness, her ribs feeling fuller for the second heartbeat she recognises beneath them now. ‘We did,’ she agrees. Not for the first time, her stomach twists in a strange sort of nostalgia and comfort – because she’s back. She doesn’t have all of her memories back, not yet, but she’s still collecting little fragments every other day; the way light catches in a familiar stained glass window, or the thwack of a bō, or the burn of a particular rune triggering a sudden recollection. But she’s gained something different today, a security that slots into place as some fear inside her is soothed – because now, she’s tied to the Shadow World in a way she wasn’t before. This bond is pretty much a magical guarantee of what Isabelle’s been telling her ever since her memories started to return, and brought with them the fear of losing all of this yet again: If the angels want to take you away from us a second time, they’ll have to get through me first.

With the ceremony over, the congregation start to advance, offering congratulations and well-wishes – and there’s a lot of them, both from within the New York Institute and from certain delegations of the Clave. Izzy’s Head of the Institute, after all – her parabatai ceremony was always going to be something of a political spectacle.

But eventually, the more politically-motivated guests politely take their leave, and their family are the only ones remaining in the ceremonial hall.

Simon is first – vampire speed and all that – and he darts from one side to the other for a moment, seemingly not knowing who to approach first, before apparently coming to a compromise and just pulling both of them in for a hug at the same time. ‘Congrats, you two,’ he says, flashing Clary a bright smile before turning to Izzy and giving her a gentle peck on the lips. ‘See?’ Izzy says, still grinning. ‘Not freaky at all.’ Simon looks back at Clary, his jaw dropped and his eyebrows knitted indignantly together. ‘You told her I said that?’ he asks accusingly. Clary shrugs, stifling a laugh at the look of utter betrayal on Simon’s face. ‘I mean, she’s my parabatai and my boss, Si. There’s not a lot of room for secrets.’

‘I don’t suppose you teach classes on that philosophy, do you?’ Alec asks, slinging an arm around Izzy’s shoulder as he gives a pointed look at the space behind Clary. ‘Hey!’ The offended voice comes from over her shoulder, and she smiles, leaning back as a circle of arms appear around her. ‘I tell you stuff. Eventually.’ She feels herself being turned around, and then she’s face to face with her boyfriend, automatically stretching up onto her tiptoes as she loops her arms around his neck. ‘Congratulations,’ Jace murmurs, his brashness fading as it always does when they’re like this, gazing at each other and letting the rest of the world fall away. Clary’s chest floods with a familiar warmth, and she pulls him down into a kiss.

Several minutes later, Clary and Izzy have almost made the complete rounds of congratulatory family members. Izzy is, apparently, determined to hug each and every one of them. In the spirit of family unity, Clary tries to follow suit, and almost makes it – even managing to secure a one-armed half-embrace from Alec – but then her and Robert’s eyes meet, and they freeze for a moment, before mutually extending their hands instead. There’s awkward, and then there’s awkward, after all. Maybe they’ll cross that particular bridge when she and Jace get married someday.

In any case, the last person Clary gets to – after extricating herself from Luke’s too-tight bear-hug, which possibly cracks one of her ribs but also makes her laugh because it’s so like old times – is Magnus, who was previously engaged catching up with Brother Zachariah when she glanced over. Now, however, his attention rests fully on her, and he gives her a warm smile as she steps into his arms briefly. ‘Well, Biscuit, how does it feel?’ ‘Good,’ she says honestly, returning his smile as she steps back, snaking her left arm around Jace’s waist again. ‘I’m glad we went through with it. Thanks for your advice.’ Magnus waves a hand dismissively. ‘It was nothing.’ He glances down at the spot just above her left hip, where the combo of low-rise pants and crop top leaves the new rune proudly exposed. ‘Left hip again,’ he says thoughtfully. ‘Is it always placed there, then?’ Clary frowns, unsure of the answer – but at that moment Alec appears again, looming out of the crowd on the right and coming to stand beside his husband. ‘Not always,’ he says, gesturing at the rune, ‘but it’s a pretty common placement. It’s fairly accessible, and easily displayed, which has some ceremonial importance because of the nature of the bond. But it’s not as high-priority to reach and reactivate as things like strength or iratze.’

‘…Okay, starting to feel like I should have done some research before today,’ Clary says sheepishly. ‘This could have gone pretty badly, apparently.’ Alec shrugs, but he smiles a little, too. ‘Izzy had you covered, she knows all this stuff. You wouldn’t have ended up with it somewhere ridiculous, like your shoulder blade.’ Despite his airy tone, the comment sounds pointed to Clary’s ears – and a second later, she’s proved right as Jace sighs. ‘More than a decade ago, Alec,’ he says wearily. ‘Let it go.’ Alec raises an eyebrow in a way that suggests he is very much not going to do that, and Clary grins.

‘Well, regardless,’ Magnus says, as Izzy and Simon appear from the left and join their little circle of conversation. ‘It’s… an apt placement.’ His eyes seem to spark a little, and Clary narrows her own in suspicion. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Oh, nothing,’ Magnus says nonchalantly, even having the gall to throw a wink in her direction. ‘You’ll have to forgive an old man his little jokes. It’s not important.’

Clary frowns – but she hums in a grudging semi-agreement, preparing to let it go and change the subject. She’s interrupted, however, by Simon’s sudden laughter. ‘Oh my god,’ he says, and he looks practically gleeful. ‘He means that you’re joined at the hip.’

It takes half a moment to sink in – and then all three siblings seem to react at once. Alec rolls his eyes (though it’s Magnus, so he smiles too, of course), Izzy honest-to-god giggles (apparently, dating Simon is increasing her tolerance for stupid jokes), and Jace groans loudly (‘Come on, seriously?’). Magnus, for his part, shrugs – and then subtly offers Simon a low-five, which is quickly and eagerly accepted.

Clary, meanwhile, just smiles, looking around at her re-found family. These are some of the biggest players in the Shadow World, unbelievably powerful in terms of both magic and politics.

They’re also a bunch of idiots, and she is so, so lucky to have them back.

~oOo~

#shadowhunters #shadowhunters fic #shtv #clary fairchild #isabelle lightwood #shs #mine

[pkmnsdarkqueen]

ASK THE MUSE !

( reply as muse talking )

► NAME ➭  “Karen” ► ARE YOU SINGLE? ➭   “Correct.” ► ARE YOU HAPPY? ➭    “I am, so are my pokemon.” ► ARE YOU ANGRY?  ➭    “....Odd question, no I’m not. I would like to know why you’d ask that.” ► ARE YOUR PARENTS STILL MARRIED? ➭  “Hm, my biological parents no, they divorced when I was a child due to my mother. My father is remarried to a lovely woman though, and she’s been a great step mother.”

EIGHT FACTS !

► ‘BIRTH’ PLACE ➭  “Violet City, I kept to myself though.” ► HAIR COLOR ➭  “Sky blue” ► EYE COLOR ➭   “Light blue, though I’ve heard them described as crystal blue pools which I find oddly specific.” ► BIRTHDAY ➭     “November 3. Please don’t tell anyone, it’s really not terribly important, and people might try to make something of it. ” Scorpio, year of the horse ► MOOD ➭    “A bit stressed, but I’ve had far worse. I simply have alot to do, and I’ve been meeting alot of new faces lately.” ► GENDER ➭  “Female.” ► SUMMER OR WINTER ➭  “Winter by far. I don’t like the cold but I am more accustomed to it than the heat. Everyone thinks the crop tops are for fashion when in all honesty I simply get overheated sometimes. ” ► MORNING OR AFTERNOON ➭  “Since night isn’t an option afternoon. I am awake mot of the time int he mornings, but that is before I’ve fallen asleep.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE !

► ARE YOU IN LOVE?➭   “....I wouldn’t call a crush love.” (also multiship blog) ► DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT? ➭  “Never. that’s such a silly dream, and shallow. I couldn’t imagine judging someone as my soulmate with one glance. People are far too complicated for that to be true.” ► WHO ENDED YOUR LAST RELATIONSHIP? ➭  “Never been in one.” ► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN SOMEONE’S HEART? ➭   “Plenty, mostly those fools who believe in love at first sight or conversation.” ► ARE YOU AFRAID OF COMMITMENTS? ➭   “Depends on the commitment. If I don’t feel ready for a task, yes. Since this is love specific though.....commitment with the wrong person, yes I do fear that.” ► HAVE YOU HUGGED SOMEONE WITHIN THE LAST WEEK?➭  “Will, Koga, Bruno, to wish them good night. Although with Will we cuddle often, he needs physical affection.” ► HAVE YOU EVER HAD A SECRET ADMIRER? ➭   “Again plenty, most of them were creeps though.” ► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN YOUR OWN HEART? ➭  “Some things aren’t other people’s business.”

FIVE CHOICES !

► LOVE OR LUST ➭  “Love, easily.” ► LEMONADE OR ICED TEA ➭   “Iced tea, it’s grown on me especially unsweetened.” ► A FEW BEST FRIENDS OR MANY REGULAR FRIENDS ➭   “A few best friends. It’s what I already have,a dn prefer.” ► WILD NIGHT OUT OR ROMANTIC NIGHT IN ➭   “Depends on who I’m with but wild night outs are what I’m more used to.” ► DAY OR NIGHT  ➭  “Night. The world is quieter then.”

THREE HAVE YOU EVERS !

► BEEN CAUGHT SNEAKING OUT ➭   “A few times by Koga and Lance though they only worry since it’s usually late. Oh except one time when we were still on house arrest Lance got mad, whoops. The only other time I snuck out was when.......actually never mind. I mis remembered.” ► FALLEN DOWN/UP THE STAIRS ➭  “A few times, never been my fault though.” ► WANTED SOMETHING/SOMEONE SO BADLY IT HURT? ➭  “......yes........freedom.”

FOUR PREFERENCES !

► SMILE OR EYES ➭  “Eyes, you can tell so much in them though they are so much prettier when smiling.” ► SHORTER OR TALLER ➭  “Frankly most people are taller than me, so the universe has made most of my options tall. Honestly I’m indifferent.” ► INTELLIGENCE OR ATTRACTION ➭   “Attraction as in my attraction to them or looks? I personally am only attracted to smart people and it is something I prioritize.” ► HOOK-UP OR RELATIONSHIP ➭  “Relationships, hook-ups feel pointless to me.”

FAMILY !

► DO YOU AND YOUR FAMILY GET ALONG ➭  “My current one, yes. My father and step mother, yes. My mother, no.” ► WOULD YOU SAY YOU HAVE A “MESSED UP LIFE” ➭  “.....Unfortunately more than the average person.” ► HAVE YOU EVER RAN AWAY FROM HOME ➭   “Running away is when my life started.” ► HAVE YOU EVER GOTTEN KICKED OUT ➭  “Of many various places yes, but never a family.”

FRIENDS !

► DO YOU SECRETLY HATE ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS ➭   “I don’t consider enemies friends.” ► DO YOU CONSIDER ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS GOOD FRIENDS ➭  “Naturally, but I trust them to different extents depending on how much I know them.” ► WHO IS YOUR BEST FRIEND ➭  “Will without question. We’ve known each other over two decades now.” ► WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU ➭   “Will, and now he really does know everything.”

———————————————

Tagged by: @harmonicrecord​ Tagging: Anyone who at one point had to learn ‘hot cross buns’ on any musical instrument 

#dash commentary #muse speaks #also steal it if you just want to do it

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 36

Last time: Sloth wished he had a jacket or something, our heroes found the Goth’s illegal mining operation, and M.G. Armstrong was offered immortal soldiers. Onwards!

No intro again, we’re starting with oh it’s Beard. Alright buddy, what are you up to now? Reciting names? While undressing? Who are you talking to

oh um Well this is a thing.

So… after saying a bunch of names, Beard apologized that he had to “use” them, then jammed his fingers into his chest to pour some blood onto the ground, which then swirled around and went into the earth.

Beard’s not the Big Bad, is he? It’s Uncle.

Tephi is currently sniggering at me.

Crazy Theory In Light Of New Scene Time! *deep breath*

So all this time I’ve been ranting at Beard for being the Big Bad, but what I’m guessing now is a Frankenstein situation; Beard got caught up in his research trying to expand Alchemy and create a Homunculi (with the Philosopher’s Stone? Without?), created Uncle who then decided that he was a superior being to mere humans and went on to create the Goths. Beard goes into hiding/on his endless fishing trip, is he trying to stop Uncle or has given it up as a lost cause? He also appears to have the same Philosopher’s Stone blood that Uncle has, experimenting on himself before making Uncle? Who knows! Still don’t forgive him for abandoning his family, even if he has some excuse like “I did it to protect you from the Goths.”, because we can see how well that worked out.

In any case, I think I understand all the blocks of spoiler text now, if he actually is a good guy then I apologiz- no actually I don’t apologize, dude is still sketchy as hell and abandoned his wife and kids. He’s still got a long way to go before he makes a Homura recovery on my List.

Episode 36 - “Family Portrait”

This looks like it’ll be another Beard episode like Interlude Party (which I just went back to re-read my post and I’m cringing at my anti-Beard rants), but with The Reveal I think I’d be ok with getting some more info on this guy. Just as long as we can get back to M.G. Armstrong catfishing Raven soon.

Yup, flashback episode. Baby!Ed and Baby!Al are sleeping, Beard by their bedside. Mama Elric says he can hug them if he wants, but Beard doesn’t want “the monster” to spread. So he already has his Philosopher’s Blood at this point?

[Mama Elric]: “Please. If it could spread that way, don’t you think I would have caught it a long time ago?”

I did not know I needed sassy Mama Elric until I got it but now I have a mighty need

The standard Creepy Tinkly Piano Music starts up as Beard

[Beard]: “Since I got this body-”

?! No no, I can’t stop and rewrite all my theories every other sentence or we’ll be here all night.

Beard is saying that ever since he got this body he’s seen a lot of death, tried to pass it off as the natural flow of the universe. He’s seen a lot of new things flourish over his life, accepted his body and kept on living. But then he met Mama Elric and created two sons oh ok I can see where this is going. Easy to accept death when it happens to Others, but to your Own?

...or not since he just compares himself to his aging sons, calls himself a monster. Damnit man I was giving you a noble backstory stop messing up my theories

Later, Mama Elric summons Beard from his Lair/Lab to surprise him with a photographer! Oh I get it, they’re getting that family picture (title drop-ish) that Beard took with him when he stopped by Resembool. Mama Elric passes Beard Baby!Ed, and good Leto man you’ve been a father for how many years? Not wanting to disturb them while they were sleeping was one thing but you’re acting like someone handed you another child, surely you’ve had some practice and carrying your own sons.

The Elrics pose while the photographer takes oh never mind Mama Elrics giving her “we’re taking this picture for the memories” speech even though he just asked for everyone to stand still. This is an old-timey camera lady, if you keep talking it’ll end up with everyone else ok but you with a great big blur where your mouth is.

[Mama Elric]: “He’s taking it. Smile, dear.” [Beard]: *Complete opposite of a smile*

Aw. Ok, I can understand why they crop out his head in that picture all the time now, that’s just depressing.

Huh. So that’s Beard’s motivation, then. He’s decided that immortality isn’t worth watching his loved ones age and die around him, so he’s of course researching a way to make them immortal as well nope he just wants to reverse his immortality so he can age and die with them. Ehhhhhhh ok whatever we aren’t getting back into the “is immortality good or bad” thing seeing as the only in-universe way is Stupidly Evil, let’s just focus on going back to Plain Old Human.

[Beard]: “That bastard…”

Are you talking about Uncle? Truth? Because I swear if this show goes and pulls out another Big Bad “for real this time you guys” I’m going to scream.

Aw, Beard’s fixing up the tree swing, we get an amusing moment where he falls down that let’s be real is only amusing because it’s A)in an anime so Physical Comedy is the rule, and B)he’s at least a semi-Goth so physical injuries are just a nuisance. Mama Elric comes out to check on him, and he gives the inevitable reveal that he’s going Absent Anime Father. Mama Elric is… surprisingly chill about this.

Beard’s trying to sneak out while the kids are asleep, but we know how that worked out. Mama Elric goes to distract them as Beard frowns (upset that his secret plan to sneak out secretly and avoid Familial Interaction failed?), then sees Baby!Ed looking up at him.

Way back in Episode 12

Flashback! Mama and Papa Elric are standing at the door, Baby!Ed and Baby!Al happened to be up early in the morning. Mama’s of course all over her children, but Papa Elric… just glares down at Ed, that’s the only description I can use for that look. Then he turns without a word, and walks out the door.

Context!

With both of his sons looking at him, Beard’s self-composure wavers ever slightly before he regains his glare and turns away.

Hey, it’s the campfire from the intro! Beard is looking at the family picture, before looking up to the night sky. “Just a little while longer…”

Whoa, all that was just before the intro?!

Oh come on! I was getting invested in more Beard Backstory, it’s almost a letdown to go back to Fort Briggs. Almost.

A bunch of Briggs soldiers are scouting the Goth Tunnel, seems their radio’s dead. Interference by the Military? The CO says they’ll keep going to find where all the rubble got dumped, but his horse shies and the ominous flutes start up. Who else is down there?

Black Shadows! Eyes! Teeth! Impalement!

Run Smith, run! Flee the Gate of Truth never mind he wasn’t fast enough. Sorry dude.

Ed’s listening to Raven’s “immortal soldiers” offer, and M.G. Armstrong’s baaaarely restraining herself from killing this old creep who’s all up in her personal space. She asks if the whole immortality thing would be for all her troops as well as herself, Raven says he can tell her “later”. So now she has to choose between accepting his offer and assisting his plans for Briggs (which could go very badly for the troops she commands), or refusing and getting pushed aside like General Grumman.

Before she can say anything, a mook’s knocking at the door to report that “something” has happened to the underground tunnel team- whoops, Raven overheard and is inviting himself along to go see. The eavesdroppers head out as well, after Ed Transmutes up some rope to “make it look convincing”. Right they’re still prisoners.

Whew, good thing they got the rope, they’ve run into Sideburns showing Kimblee around the fort. Ed recognizes The Crimson Alchemist, and oh yeah they’ve never actually met before, so Kimblee makes the mistake of thinking The Fullmetal Alchemist is the giant suit of armor instead of the pipsqueak everyone’s pointing to.

[irate!Ed]: “If one more person makes that mistake…”

Down in the pipe room, M.G. Armstrong’s getting the report of lost contact, aside from Smith’s horse with what they assume is his arm (man, arms just do not stay on people’s bodies in this show, do they?). M.G. Armstrong orders a rescue tea- nope shut down by Raven who claims the tunnel is too dangerous. Now, about that immortal monster she was talking about earlier?

Wow. General is straight up ordering M.G. Armstrong to grab the monster they put on ice, put him back in the tunnel and seal it up behind him. Obviously the nearby flunky balks at burying any possible survivors in the tunnel, but Raven just paraphrases the Law of the North about obeying strength and power. Now, is M.G. Armstrong going to refuse an order from her superior officer?

Mid-ep pictures of Crazy Grin Raven and steadfast Olivier Mira Armstrong.

Raven’s visiting the Elric Brothers in their cell, happy to see that they’ve been “keeping their mouths shut”. Ed’s just a little annoyed to have his friends held hostage and be locked up, but the ever-helpful General assures them that they can go soon. He then assures the boys that they don’t need to worry about the tunnel, M.G. Armstrong’s being a good little soldier and following orders.

Something that her own troops seem to be having a little trouble with now, the flunky from earlier is arguing with M.G. Armstrong about the lost team until she snaps at him to be quiet and obey. Kimblee’s watching everything from the walkways and snarks that even “The Impregnable Wall Of Briggs” bows to authority. Here’s hoping she proves you wrong soon.

Hey Sloth, how was your nap? Raven tells him to wake up and get back to work, apparently Pride explained it to him already. Now with his orders to get back to, Sloth returns to digging while Raven spouts some drivel about Sloth being a “chimera” working for Central, and since it was a top-secret mission they had to cover the hole and guard it.

[Raven]: “I’m counting on you soldiers! It’s people like you who make this country what it is!”

...wow. Ok, I’m pretty sure that M.G. Armstrong knows that the offer of immortality is intended to be at the cost of her own troops now. Way to eff things up Raven. Now if you had couched it as harvesting Drachmans to empower herself and her troops it might have been different.

Hey Marcoh, hey May! Still going over the notes?... wait, how long have you been at that hut? What have you been eating? Anyways, Marcoh says the important parts of the book are written in Ancient Ishvalan, which he can’t make heads or tails of. If only they had an Ishvalan Monk who could translate. Yeah, where is Scar?

Ooooh shoot. The Briggs snowtroopers have found the girl with the weird cat now, they draw their guns and move in when suddenly Scar! Man, good timing. Meeting up with the Doctor and the Princess, Scar confirms that they have the notes and says it’s time to move NOW HOLD ON. Did you really just take those two soldiers’ uniforms and leave them in the snow? Dude, not cool! At least move them into the hut so they don’t freeze to death.

Uh, timeskip apparently. Raven and M.G. Armstrong are overseeing the sealing of the tunnel, Raven’s confirming that the “weak” will be sacrificed to make the chosen few immortal. Man, Raven just has no redeeming qualities beyond that beard, does he? He’s just cheerfully talking about how the weak will be the foundation for the strong, completely missing the Death Glare that M.G. Armstrong’s leveling at him.

Sideburns is still having to babysit Kimblee, takes a moment to ask how the punk he was threatening in a hospital just a few days ago healed so quickly, let alone how a convicted murderer of officers got to walk free. Kimblee’s not exactly forthcoming.

Raven’s still cheerfully going on about how the country was founded with the plan to Mass Sacrifice its population, and how his generation gets to reap the rewards. He clasps her shoulder and damnit stop being a creeper you traitor-

[M.G. Armstrong]: “Hmph. There’s no need.”

Wait is she HELL YES

Screw you, you old coward! Just stand there with her sword through your arm as you feebly protest about her being a “chosen one”.

[M.G. Armstrong]: “I don’t need a new seat from you. You’re going to lose the one your moldy ass has clung to for too long! Right about now, Raven! You old TRAITOR!”

Oh hey, how convenient that there’s a fresh pool of concrete for that jerk’s corpse to be hidden in.

[Armstrong the Great]: “General, you are among the weak who will become the foundation for this country. Literally.”

Ha. Now we can get to work! Get some gloves free of traitor’s blood, find Sideburns and the other unwanted guest, and get that concrete nice and level.

Oh my Leto shut up Kimblee, stop trying to antagonize Sideburns with taunts about Ishval. Just as he starts to snap back Sideburns is called aside to hear that he doesn’t have to distract Kimblee anymore. He goes back and claims that “nobody can find General Raven”, so Kimblee… uh oh. Kimblee’s got standing orders to act as he sees fit if Raven’s not around, so they probably should give him a car to leave the fort. After all, one disappearance can be put down as bad luck. Both Raven and Kimblee? They can’t show their hand so soon.

Aw, the flunky who argued for the rescue mission is still pleading with Armstrong the Great to check the tunnel before it’s sealed. Ooh, but Ed made a second door earlier! That… may not have been such a good idea, I know that these guys haven’t seen what killed the tunnel team but still.

The mechanic stops by the Elrics’ cell to say Raven’s taking a concrete nap, then walks off. Wait, you’re still leaving those two in jail? Raven’s dead and Kimblee’s leaving, you don’t need to keep up the prisoner facade! Damnit, let the protagonists out to do their job!

Awww, hell. Kimblee’s shown up, wants to talk with the Fullmetal Alchemist. Fine whatever, just… what do you mean, “a visitor”?

CRAP. Winry! Or, is that Envy in disguise? Nah, probably Winry given how she’s yelling about Ed not getting his automail adjusted before going north. Someone from the military contacted her?

...Kimblee get your hands off her shoulders right now.

Damnit. Right as we get Armstrong the Great acting against the Military in defiance of the immortality temptation, we’ve got the Goth’s attack dog reminding them of the hostages. This is-

The end of the episode? Really? Wow, ok then. This one seemed like we got a short story on Beard (that just raised

so many new questions

) and a partial arc with Fort Briggs. What’s gonna happen next?

Wait hold on, this is one of those post-credit scene episodes. Roy’s meeting with one of the bar girls who’s reporting on Kimblee’s rapid recovery after Raven showed up. After paying her for the info a passing flower merchant teases him about just getting a “nice seeing you”... before saying she has a message from Armstrong the Great.

[Roy]: “I’ll take every flower you have in that cart.”

#wmtw #where my twin watches #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 36