Guess who's still thinking about Birdie Oak?

In light of ep. 52, I'm struck by the parallels between Normal and Birdie.

Now Snowglobe, I hear you say, Birdie has zero canon characterization, what are you talking about? Okay, you're not wrong, but she's got a decent bit that can be inferred, so hear me out.

We start with Henry and Sparrow's perspectives on Code Purple. At it's core, it's a disagreement on whether or not protecting your family is worth sacrificing strangers (there are posts that go into this with a lot more nuance and I love those, but I don't want to get sidetracked). I don't think either Sparrow or Henry have the wrong viewpoint here, I think it's pretty much a trolley problem, but the point is we see a Henry that feels that helping those hurt by what he feels are his actions is a higher priority than his family. Heck, we even see this in Season 1 when they go back to Neverwinter and Henry wants to stand trial for what happened with the pyramid at the cost of rescuing their sons. We also know that Henry went on to build his little refugee camp Oakvale on Earth. I don't think it's too much of a jump to suggest that this wasn't a project he would have waited until Mercedes died to start.

HOWEVER, we see through Normal's teen facts that he still sees Mercedes and Henry post-code purple, Henry didn't just pack up the family and move to Earth, so we then get the scenario of Henry bouncing back and forth between the two realms, and in the process, maybe not being around a whole lot while Birdie is growing up. This , logically, gives us a Birdie who would be much closer to Mercedes than Henry, and that isn't a big problem until Mercedes dies.

Even though we don't see Birdie in Oakvale, it is the only logical place she could be, but it's pretty clear from just the description of Henry's hut that they're not close. There's zero indication that he shares that space with anyone else (my personal feeling is he gave her a different hut, since his was already constructed), and he doesn't bring her up to the rest of the teens/Lark and Sparrow while they're there, and would it be weird to the flow of the story if he went and found her to explain what was about to happen while waiting for the ten minutes to be up before the angel eats him? Yeah, but it does seem to indicate that Birdie tends to slip his mind sometimes in the face of everything else.

So where does this leave us? It leaves us with Birdie, losing the parent she was closest to, only to then have to be taken care of by her more distant parent who she has really complicated feelings about.

Okay, so let's look at Normal. It's been mentioned in Teen Talks that he's closer to his mom, and we can see their relationship pretty well in the episodes at their house. Meanwhile, even though hearing that Sparrow isn't proud of him takes him off guard, he mentions when they're in the calzone, that he never got the impression that Sparrow really liked him all that much. Add in the feelings of being left behind while Hero got to go "get ice cream"? Yeah...

So now, with the loss of Rebecca, we have Normal, losing the parent he's closet to, only to then have to be taken care of by his more distant parent who he has really complicated feelings about.

And I know it won't happen in canon, because pulling Birdie out now would be a really odd narrative choice, but...I want Normal and Birdie to talk.

I finally finished reading the fourth volume of svsss in full, and thing is--the first time through I only read the bingqiu content because I was ravenous for more of their happy ending.

Turns out that was a perilous mistake.

Because I started reading the airplane extras. And I swear to god. MXTX is trying to kill me

What do you MEAN demon lord Binghe was sitting on his big fucking throne. All stoic and forbidding. Surrounded by his demon generals who don't know shit about human courtship. Asking them what he should do, fully demoralized by constant rejections from sqq, only to have airplane tell him to act more pathetic and needy. Which is already hysterically funny and insane, UNTIL LBH'S RESPONSE IS THIS, KILLING ME INSTANTLY:

LUO BINGHE. WHY DOES HE SAY IT LIKE: "I already tried that, didn't work--nothing works :/ not mean, not maidenly, not housewife, not spicy, not capable disciple. Is doubling down on clingy really all it will take? What's a born hater with only one love in his life to do????"

The dichotomy of him sitting there like 'how can I reach the unfathomable depths of shizun's heart?' A HEART HE'S ALREADY WON OVER, MIND and then in the Holy Mausoleum solving the puzzle without blinking and being like 'oh yeah you just have to hit the acupoints, no sweat.' Literally the comedy writes itself I'm so--

How am I supposed to be normal about this. MXTX understands the juicy quintessential queer joy of a person with the world's power at their fingertips wishing only for love. Willing to do anything to earn that love, when unbeknownst to them it's already been freely given. Totally not screaming and yelling and clawing at the walls

And that's not even touching airplane's uproarious account of events. The way he's like 'lol what's next, lbh and sqq are best friends now? smfh' only to see lbh TACKLE SQQ LOVINGLY. FOR SQQ TO BE BASHFUL ABOUT IT BUT SO SO FOND OF THE LITTLE SCAMP. This when we've been experiencing sqq's constant inner monologue of 'I'm so cool and so dignified about my role, truly the epitome of propriety and poser-level fortitude.' Meanwhile, in their universe:

Airplane constantly flaming???? Sqq and lbh in his observations????? His absolute bewilderment and confusion????? Legendary. No notes every single second of this shit was hilarious.

Airplane's comment that sqq + older adolescent lbh traveling together was just watching a couple in their honeymoon phase. OR the fact that lbh is exceedingly petty and refuses to share their food in the wake of airplane's interruption of their time together, until sqq relents sheepishly and insists airplane eat what's left (ONLY AFTER PLACATING LBH WITH MORE FOOD FROM HIS PLATE, SOBBING)

Watching airplane salivate over Mobei-Jun and acting like that's totally normal behavior. Finding out mbj and airplane got together first. Finding out sqq encouraged airplane. LIKE THIS. WHILE HE IS STILL IN DENIAL ABOUT HIS OWN FEELINGS:

Mobei-jun clearly thinking their arrangement is a forever thing, heartbroken his human abandoned him with all the hapless fury of a scorned wife swept away by false promises of fidelity. Airplane writing demons to be the type to beat up their crush lovingly and still unable to connect the dots about mbj's feelings. Mbj letting him go and respecting his wishes, only relenting when there's indication airplane was poorly processing his own feelings and didn't actually want to leave. Mbj caring for him and listening to him as soon as airplane voices what he needs directly and with clarity. None of these gays are functional and it's everything to me

Unrelated, but I physically can't hold this information in anymore:

I'm still reeling from younger lbh having his sexual awakening from the image of sqq wrapped in the immortal binding cables. Condemn me as you like he was so, so real for that.

And no I will not be taking any comments about how luo bingge couldn't bear to see luo binghe cherished in ways he never got to have and all the haunting implications of that. I will also not be taking any comments about luo binghe's instinct to look for sqq in that alternate universe, only to be shaken to the very core to be unable to find his shizun anywhere. The unspeakable and latent horror of his relentless mind likely piecing together what happened, but unable to say it; to suspect what is true, and live with the harrowing confusion of his double's actions. To blame himself, to assume that he had let his anger get the better of him in that world and result in unspeakable folly...

I also refuse to talk about how heartrending it is to hear Tianlang-jun weakly say "In the end, I really can't bring myself to hate humans." The implication that the foolishness of that hope and bright-eyed fondness--the very thing that put him through such unspeakable agony--couldn't be beaten out of him entirely. To discover that his faith in Su Xiyan hadn't been misplaced, to the contrary: his beloved hadn't scorned him at all, but rather fought to the miserable end to protect the fruition of their genuine feelings of love when she couldn't protect tlj or herself.

How MXTX has sqq deliberately draw parallels between their situation and that of ygy+sj and tlj+sx; desperately wishing it might not be too late for them. The concept of breaking cycles of abuse and harm pervasive throughout the newly devised story, how it evolves for the better only when love takes the place of power, pride, and domination. How the moment sqq chooses vulnerability instead of saving face, the genre shifts to the so-called "cringe" girly genre where most if not every character is more fulfilled, more true to themselves. How the "male-oriented" former genre was aimlessly sensationalized and sexualized, how it was a sustained performance of aspirational toxic masculinity. How men objectify other men without end. All of the unspoken gendered implications that come with that.

Anyways. Going to go put my head in a sandbox and try to process everything I just witnessed because even a second reading is not enough to find a modicum of closure.

was thinking about that voice hcs post & it really struck me that i have never once read anyone besides james as remotely british. whenever barty arrives in the fanfiction like "bloke" my eyes black out for a second... you can't be talking like that croatian baby

pitched battle inside my brain between the part of me that's desperately shaking myself by the shoulders going "YOU HAVE GOT TO ACTUALLY LIVE THE KIND OF LIFE YOU IMAGINE INSTEAD OF JUST SITTING AROUND IMAGINING IT UNTIL YOU DIE!!" and the part of me that's clutching my face going "is this allowed? is this allowed?? is this allowed???"

I will learn about new media exclusive through a mutual that is hyperspeed reblogging their newest obsession and I think that is how the internet should work.

till death do us part

day 2 : wedding

credits:

goroella: lumialle, necroalx, ATLUS

raoulkira: necroalx, apricothere, gasptheenemy, lumialle, ATLUS

church: yuyu

ray-mmd 1.5.2 (rui) kirakira (beamman, chestnutscoop) ikdiffusion (ikeno)

I keep thinking abt Zoruru and Taruru's potential as a comedic duo. Yall don't understand how funny but also potentially emotionally investing I think they are. Like on one hand we got this kid fresh out of training with hopes and dreams to achieve, already at a good point in his career because hey, he got accepted into one of the most elite platoons their army has to offer! What more could a guy like him possibly ask for? And on the other we have an old man who at this point is completely disillusioned with the Keron Army, never wanted to find anything worthwhile there to begin with -- he only joined to go after his true objective. He's not moved by ambition, but rather revenge.

Their personalities are the polar opposite of each other which you'd think would cause them to clash. There's teasing, playful banter (from Taruru) and half hearted threats (from Zoruru), but in spite of that they get along surprisingly well. That's because they have one thing in common: neither wants to be put aside. They both want to make something of themselves. They want to be recognised; Zoruru, by those who wronged him, and Taruru, by... everyone. He might be not exactly sure, but he wants people to recognise his worth. In that process, they both train hard to work towards that goal. Maybe together, maybe separately, but the idea is that they both end up doing exactly that: they acknowledge the other's abilities. And later, each other. As people.

They both get exactly what they need out of this unlikely bond. Taruru finds someone who recognises him as being apart from the crowd ("not a background character", as he put it in the GRR platoon arc), and Zoruru finds what he's always looked for, even though he might have forgotten it along the way: a genuine friend. Taruru gets the older keronian to loosen up, if minimally, while Zoruru reminds the younger one to not place his trust in a single life path.

They're not just great comrades, they're genuinely good for each other.

as much as i joke about them like bullying eachother as a fun little activity between them and like ripping eachother open in a homoerotic way they literally love eachother so much . they always go out of their way to make the other happy no matter the cost theyre always ok as long as the other is with them they always manage to find and help eachother even in times of cosmic level disaster THEY LOVE EACHOTHER SO MUCH !!!!!!!! THROWS OBJECTS ACROSS ROOM TELEKINETICALLY

JAMES LANCE interviewed for Creators Faire

He's holding an oreo but for a sec I thought it was a ring box.

Oreo... Ring... House asking to live the rest of their lives together. But Wilson needs to give them (his life, his treatment) a chance first.

You know I actually never realized this before-- so you remember how tri. retconned Original Chosen fighting and defeating Apocalymon into them fighting the Dark Masters instead? (To be fair it is possible they could've ALSO fought Apocalymon afterwards but that isn't the Epic Final Showdown tri. decided to depict so it's borderline a retcon)

If the Original 5 Chosen fought and defeated the Dark Masters once in the distant past, doesn't that mean that

A) They survived and hid for just a few thousand years until they came back for a Round 2 at conquering the world

B) They died, were reborn, and THEN went for the Round 2

You know I've just DYING with curiosity, desperately wanting to know if any of the villians in Adventure would ever be reborn after Adventure, right. Because according to the lore they should, right (unless their data was like somehow absorbed by Apocalymon and destroyed along with him (though that would still leave Piemon as an exception (and Vamdemon but we all know what happened to him) and the sole survivor))

And what tri. has essentially done is confirm that most of them should, in fact, be reborn sooner or later

But that just raises the question of if Apocalymon was lowkey driving the Dark Masters nuts (as suggested by the novels), and if tri. was kind of about destroying the last remnants of Apocalymon's data (within Meicoomon), if they were reborn this time would they be free of Apocalymon's influence

If so, would their third (?) lives then turn out different? Would they still try to take over the world all over again for funsies (this time just without Apocalymon giving them power etc), or were they just the same as Ken was in Zero Two? I mean Apocalymon was supposed to be a spawn of Milleniummon and Ken was infected with Mille's malice directly, so while it may have been a bit filtered it was still the same source of malice and corruption, right

And like regardless of how their next lives would turn out, shouldn't the kids (OR AT THE VERY FUCKING LEAST GENNAI) like realize that this is going to happen eventually and like. Go and see if they can find them (either as their pre-Ultimate forms or even when they're still in their Eggs) and try to figure out what to do BEFORE shit hits the fan

I JUST

yeah i made him a fish lookin thang whatcha gonna do about it

I wanted to write today, but then @revenantghost came along with this and a scene haunted me. Something, something, modern au, where plants and humans were separated, but are now integrating. Vash is a vet tech, Wolfwood is a former cop trainee that went to social work instead and Nai is a high-earning manager of a company called Plant Bee (either something for contraception because the less humans the better or something with bees... I like both ideas). Nai is an arsehole, but at least not evil? Edit: Now with part 2 more sillies

It was a joke gift, really. Vash should have known that Wolfwood would love it and wear it. There are some regrets, but they pale besides Wolfwood’s broad, proud smile when people take a double look. It is a white shirt. The kind of shirt on which you see the bad quality of the fabric just by how it falls. “Eat plantussy. It’s vegan <3,” is written in big, green letters - in Comic Sans, of course. Wolfwood doesn’t wear it for work, fortunately. The teens know Wolfwood supports plant rights and the kids do not need to know that he does more with Vash than holding hands and sharing kisses. Wolfwood knows how to dress adequately being around different kinds of company. Though, somehow, Wolfwood always wears it when they encounter Nai. 

At first, it was an accident, when they were lounging in the shared flat, then it became cruel with intent. The first time, Nai stared at the letters in obvious disbelief. His mouth hung open. His eyes even bulged a little. The utter shock was too immense. And Wolfwood beamed like Vash’s little joke gift was a gift that would keep on giving… And it has kept on giving. Wolfwood and Nai get along like cats and dogs. Nai being full of very polite and distant, but backhanded compliments and comments and Wolfwood countering by showing his roots. The shirt was just another layer added to Wolfwood showing his nasty side. Nai’s office party? Wolfwood has worn it. Celebration dinner with Wolfwood as his plus one? Wolfwood has worn it, under his suit jacket. Nai knew and was foaming, politely. And today, at Vash’s award? Wolfwood has repeated it.

Nai has even tried to appease the demon Vash has awoken in Wolfwood. He has gifted him high quality, silken shirts, a fitting suit jacket, he even used real compliments when he made Wolfwood try the clothes on. But to Nai’s dismay Wolfwood loves his worn-out clothes. Being a somewhat unkempt, gritty former streetrat makes the kid's trust come more readily and Wolfwood fosters that trust to the best of his ability. He'll never know if and which positive interaction reaches them, that's why any interaction counts.

“You will not take a step into my flat with that on,” Nai’s tone is low, growling. His patience has finally snapped in this very staircase. Vash sighs, trying to shimmy between them. ‘It’s our flat. I live there, too,’ Vash wants to say, but Wolfwood wraps his arm around his waist and moves him aside. God have mercy, please. 

Wolfwood tilts his head in his best delinquent manner, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Huh? What did ya say?”

“This,” Nai pokes his finger against Wolfwood’s chest on the white shirt. “This is nasty.”

Vash wails internally. Wolfwood grins like he has just received the biggest compliment. “Well, yer brother loves it.” In one fell swoop his suit jacket is in Vash’s arms and his shirt is off and offered to Nai.

Nai recoils as if he has just touched something slimy in the dirty dish water. “I mean what is written there! It is objectifying! And purely factually wrong!”

“Why?”

Nai just shoots a glare at Wolfwood, who trots behind him into the flat. “Because!”

“Aw, widdle Nini can’t give a reason why he’s pouty.”

“I can and I will elaborate!”

“Cool,” Wolfwood goes to their alcohol cabinet and pours them a glass of whiskey. Nai takes even more offence to Wolfwood drinking his whiskey warm than Wolfwood being topless in their living room. He pointedly goes to the fridge and gets the cooled metal cubes to put in his drink, Vash’s drink and then, while staring Wolfwood down, in Wolfwood’s drink. Wolfwood stares back and empties his glass in one swoop. Nai has to take a deep breath to not scream at Wolfwood for drinking whiskey wrong.

“This shirt mocks women, dehumanises… no, demammals plants and slams down on veganism as a cruelty free form of living. How can you live with yourself?”

“Pretty swell, actually. That said, I heard more than once that a man willing to eat pussy is at least not totally lost in the machismo sauce, because the act focuses on the woman and not on the male pleasure. Feminism is not my expertise, but that is a point to think about. The one who got me that shirt is a plant. He chose the lettering and the writing. He knows a joke and he knows I respect him and both of yer rights and will defend them. Ya know that one, too, buddy.” He pauses and fills his glass again. “I hope.”

 Nai clicks his tongue. “It still mocks vegans.”

Wolfwood deadpans: “Listen, we both know this is not about veganism, plant rights or women’s rights. This is about me eating yer brother out. Daily. Ya have no power here, man. Sucks to be ya, but I will rail yer brother until he sees stars as long as he’ll have me. That can be a week, that can be a year, that can be the rest of my human life,” Wolfwood takes the last swig of his whiskey. Vash lets Wolfwood talk, but the ‘rest of his human life’ has made a big knot appear in his stomach. Wolfwood keeps on talking, but Nai seems to have noticed it with the worried glance that got thrown immediately at Vash. Vash smiles back and waves it off. Completely unaware of the brother’s little, nonverbal talk, Wolfwood points a finger at Nai. “And ya have to deal with it. Yer brother likes sex. And! He somehow got a liking to me. That means, he’ll get it, all of it, any minute I can provide. Ya don’t like sex. And ya despise my existence. But that is on ya and not him. Ya can either accept that one of ya has good taste and the other one tames street rats in his free time, or ya don’t. But ya won’t make me disappear. So how about ya start being a good brother and let yer brother enjoy exploring his sexuality.” Wolfwood thinks for a second and continues: “Because he will do that with or without me and even ya have to agree that I am a somewhat safe partner. Or do ya have someone better in mind? For example, Lega…,” he can’t even end his sentence, because Vash and Nai scream in obvious terror or disgust.

What ships from Naruto do you like, except Kakuhida? I'm asking out of curiosity :)

Also your art makes me want to eat tables!!! RAAH!!!!! (/pos)

This is a surprisingly loaded question because I have so many and some of them span for almost 20 years now.

Also, as usual, disclaimer, since I've seen all the ship wars and holywars, THESE ARE ALL PERSONAL OPINION. PERSONAL OPINION ONLY.

(endless yapping below the cut)

In the past:

My first ship when I was 12 was Pain/Konan, and I think that was the first smut I've ever read like period. I was a big cheerleader of Hinata and Naruto/Hinata because I liked that Hinata just minded her business and stayed in her lane while everyone else was going thru shit (Team 8 had the best work-life balance, I think, they just clocked in and clocked out, no shenanigans). Obviously, Temari/Shikamaru and I loved Neiji/Tenten. I think as a kid these were like really fun dynamics. Once the anime reached the Akatsuki I was all over the Akatsuki LMAO.

But now, as a grown adult, I am almost 99% just KKHD, and Akatsuki ships are like the default absolute truth to me, but recently, I've been obsessed with more Naruto Yuri.

Love Ino/Sakura for that double-income spy who owns a secret flower shop/doctor dynamic; it's just nice. Like I am a firm believer that they could have solved their differences by scissoring or something. Also like, I think their backstory is like an insane missed opportunity (but what's written cannot be unwritten, so whatever) because these pages made me feel like I was reading some kind of josei backstory. Like, go ahead and read these pretending this is not from Naruto, and tell me where do u think this could be from.

Like "pussy from a girl who treats you like a small stupid animal (good until psychic damage hits)"

Like, I would be like, this is either a shoujo manga, or the next page is older Sakura crying in the kitchen with a photo of Ino or something, and then by the end of the story, they, like fuck in the field or something while Sakura is like "I can't believe my toxic female friend from school has 4 fingers up my pussy!", but this could just be projecting, but I still like the ship. On a serious note, Sakura being a crybaby who was picked on would have been a fun opportunity to play with her character and create more empathy for Naruto within her, but her role was more like tying the two characters together, which worked well, but lots of people were salty, but it pushed people to support her character more so it evens out.

Tsunade/Shizune is like my next super fave, especially after rewatching the Tsunade arc. Tsunade's character is just so well done when it comes to how people cope with grief by doing destructive things, I loved it; Kishimoto is fantastic at mature story beats like this weaved between magical ninja fights. But yeah I loved their dynamic like Shizune is essentially her attendant/pet girl/assistant who is extremely loyal to her, but also nagging in a way and also Shizune is just very animated and kinda dorky while Tsunade is a calm mommy- sorry a mature rich woman of status who needs to be taken care of (nearly blacked out writing this). Their back and forth is just chef kiss, too. Honestly, I think that's my favourite Naruto arc; the first part of Naruto is great when it comes to mundane details that I now have more appreciation for.

Their auntie banter!

GODDDDD THAT WAS SO LIKE IT HURTS SEEING OTHERS LIVING THE LIFE YOU DREAM OF

And obviously still love Temari/Shikamaru! I loved that Shikamaru was always very tsundere and going on about how much he hates girls, but deep down is actually like, "Me when a bad bitch tells me to do anything." it's a satisfying way to play with his "character flaw". Seeing him go soft on Temari was like a mini character arc within his already happening character arc during Sasuke's pursuit, like we saw him grow up twice, great stuff!

The entire chapter 235 is just an amazing growth for Shikamaru in elevating the like "men/women" way of thinking to like "what makes a person who they are" way of thinking I really love that. The character is also a great reminder for those afraid of failing btw.

Kakashi/Iruka is my fave, 50% from a historical standpoint; the fact that you can find Kakairu fanfic on Geocities from 2001, and I have some doujins in my collection that are more than 20 years old now is fascinating to me. Love how incredibly loyal the Japanese fans are to Iruka; these guys were holding onto hope for so many years till the Pain arc and then, boom, Studio Pierrot's final Naruto arc!!! It's just incredible fandom history. I love that kinda stuff, love the ship itself too, it's very homey to me, some of the legendary fic they had was fantastic, like entire book's length, incredibly loyal fans.

Have you ever gotten such violent catharsis over a show that you almost foam at the mouth

That's the election arc of Hunter x Hunter.

um. i let myself go and wrote 2,120 words of enchanted!au piarles instead of being a normal person tonight .

Pierre finds him, like always, sitting by himself at a bench under a streetlamp. He’s hunched over, cooing at one of the pigeons walking by—which is a rather amusing sight, considering he’s still dressed head-to-toe in the medieval royalty clothing Pierre had found him in a few weeks ago. Of all the places for this to happen, he figures at least here in Manhattan there will be far fewer people raising their eyebrows at his odd behavior, if they even bothering to look at all.

Charles is rather handsome, though. They’re all missing out, Pierre supposes as he strides over, a comforting sense of familiarity washing over him at this habit of theirs that’s started to become a routine. “Charles,” he calls once he’s close enough. Night has long fallen, although there are still people milling about because—because it’s the middle of summer, of course people are going to be lounging out in Central Park on a Thursday night like this—but Charles turns towards the sound of his voice and lights up so immediately that Pierre thinks he could probably out-shine the sun. He’s illuminated the night here, anyway.

“Pierrot!” Charles exclaims, whirling up to his feet like he’s a fairytale character. And, well, the more he claims to be one, the more Pierre wants to believe him, because he all but waltzes to meet Pierre under the lamp, eyes glittering handsomely. He even looks like a storybook prince. “I’m sorry, I know you told me I should not wander, but the world is so—” he grabs Pierre’s hand tightly and uses his other to gesture to the rest of the park, which looks...normal. “It is so full of magic, Pierrot, it reminds me so much of my home.” There’s a smile on his face, big but with a hint of sadness hiding just behind it. “Maranello felt like this, you know. Every day. All the time.” He sighs wistfully. “I wish you could see it.”

Pierre chuckles softly despite himself. It’s late, and they need to get back to the apartment because Odette is definitely going to be upset that she didn’t get to come along for tonight’s Where’s Waldo search for this prince of theirs. But he can’t bring himself to release Charles’ hand, which is still grasping his tightly, so lost in his own whimsy he doesn’t even seem to be aware of his own strength. (Pierre doesn’t mind at all.) “Central Park is something else in the summertime,” he concedes. “I’ve lived here for years and I’m still not used to it sometimes.”

Charles squeezes his hand and turns fully to face him, his beautiful green eyes so wide with delight that Pierre feels laughter bubbling up from somewhere deep inside him. “See!” he exclaims, tugging Pierre closer. “That is what I mean! That is what magic is, Pierre, how can you not believe.” The fondness on his face is so genuine that Pierre really doesn’t have the heart to argue the point like they always seem to do. “A place so wonderous as this could never get old, not ever.”

Pierre will give him that. “This park is hundreds of years old, Charles,” he hums. “Thousands of people see it for the first time every day, you know. Tourists must find this place magical all the time.” Right on cue, a small group of people—they look like college students, bright-eyed and backpacked and babbling softly to one another—passes by, gazing up into the trees and laughing amongst themselves. It does feel a little like magic, even though that does not mean Pierre thinks magic exists. He’s not six anymore. He knows how the world works. He sees how the world works in the courtroom every damn day. But…it’s a nice fantasy. Charles believes, and Pierre won’t take that away from him yet. Not now.

Not as he’s gazing up at the glittering lights of the buildings around them, looking exactly like a tourist. “What was it like when you first arrived here, Pierre?” Charles squeezes his hand, once, soft, then tugs him even closer than before, their shoulders pressed together, now. “You must have felt the magic then, too.” He tilts his head back down to earth and smiles, still looking starry-eyed.

Pierre shrugs, although the warmth in his chest seems to just keep billowing outwards. “I was a kid,” he answers after a beat. “Twenty-one, fresh out of school. I’d been crammed in a plane and then a taxi for so many hours, so I was not exactly myself.” The memory of it feels so faint, so long-ago. He’s been here for over ten years, now—the young man he’d been back then is almost a figment of his imagination now. “My apartment was so tiny I think it probably could have been a closet. So I went for a walk on my very first night, just to breathe air that was not trapped in there with me, and…” And he’d ended up here. “It was a night just like this, you know.”

Charles looks dazzled. “Every summer night must feel like this, then.” He’s still so wide-eyed, so focused on Pierre it would make him self-conscious if it were anyone else. Somehow, though, Charles doesn’t seem to fall under the category of anyone else. He’s special.

“Not all of them,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “When it storms, this place is—” he shakes his head. “Not the point, not the point. I guess when I first saw this place, it did feel like a different world.”

Charles presses even closer. “So you did believe once upon a time.” His features twist up into a giggle, genuine and without any hint of the sadness Pierre had clocked before, as he realizes what he’s said. “Once upon a time. Like I am writing a fairytale!”

“You’re like a walking fairytale, Charles,” Pierre hums, bumping shoulders with him teasingly. “This should not be a surprise to you at all. How you can wander off to Central Park and see it like it’s out of a book…” he trails off, unsure of what he’s really trying to say. Maybe nothing at all. There’s something about Charles that seems to do that to him—draw the words out even if there’s nothing to say, like all Pierre wants to do is talk to him even though he’s from an entirely different life. He’s never felt like this with anyone—not even with Kat, and she’s the mother of his daughter. It feels like he’s caught in some spell.

Magic could be real if it’s what makes Charles so enchanting all the time.

Charles, who gives him a slow look up and down, a knowing expression crossing his face and sullying the unbridled joy that had just been there moments before. “Oh, Pierrot, you are still—you came right from work to find me, didn’t you?” His face starts to crumple. “I should have listened to you, I know this…this Man Hat Land is so vast I could be lost in a moment, I just—I didn’t even think—”

“Charles,” Pierre interrupts, squeezing their clutched-together hands again. “Charles, it’s okay. You miss being home, and this is the closest thing Manhattan can really offer in place of Maranello.” He shakes his head slowly, trying to soothe him like he might a stray kitten. “You weren’t in the apartment when I got home, and Odette said that you weren’t there when she got home from school, and I just…” Now this feels like a confession. He’s hot under the collar, suddenly, the warm summer breeze doing nothing to alleviate the way he’s burning up under Charles’ unrelenting green gaze. “I knew I had to find you. Make sure you were safe, even though I think I knew you would be here this whole time.”

Charles just keeps looking at him. “This does feel a lot like Maranello,” he murmurs after a long beat of silence. “But I do not believe it is the closest thing to home.” With a sigh, he lets go of Pierre’s hand but immediately replaces the touch with his arm, hooking it in Pierre’s elbow. “You must be worried sick about Odette being there alone, Pierre. I’m sorry.”

But Pierre can’t find it in him to be angry that he’s so many blocks away from home when Charles looks the way he does right now—devastatingly beautiful, somehow enhanced by the streetlamp above them. “Odette will be okay, Charles. She was worried sick about you.” He rests a hand against the prince’s wrist, a reassuring touch to keep him from collapsing with the immense emotions he must be wrestling with right now. “You know, I used to sneak out here all the time too, before she came into my life.” Charles makes a soft noise somewhere in his ear, tucked tight against Pierre’s side even though it is so warm and his clothes feel like they’re made of the heaviest velvet imaginable. How he’s not sweating to death, Pierre has no idea. “Back in France, my backyard used to look like this a little.” He pauses. “Green. Full of mystery, at least when I was small.”

“Did it help you?” Pierre raises an eyebrow at the question. “Miss home less?”

There’s probably a correct answer here—say no, try and urge this wandering behavior away, maybe even encourage Charles to try and figure out a way back home so he doesn’t have to miss Maranello the way he seems to so deeply. It’s the responsible thing to do, really.

“In a way, yes,” he says instead. Charles leans into him a little. “But—it was not about missing home less, I don’t think. It was more…learning to build a home here. Making this my home.” He thumbs at Charles’ wrist a little. “And it must have worked, because there is nowhere else in the world I consider to be home more than here. It is Odette, and it is me, and it is New York City.” There’s part of his deeply-delusional brain that wants to add and you to the statement, but Pierre brushes the instinct aside. Charles has a home. Has a life, and a kingdom, apparently, to get back to, even if Maranello is nowhere he's ever heard of. Pierre can’t keep him from that. He’s got no right to.

“I see,” the prince murmurs, still so close to Pierre that he can feel every breath Charles takes. The stretch of silence that follows is amicable, really: but Pierre can’t help but think there is something he could be doing. Charles looks so foreign, here, so out of place standing beside a black metal trash can that looks like the ones he used to kick at in his early days. Pierre wants to take him away. Wants to take him home—where he belongs, among impossibly kind and beautiful and naïve people like himself. Pierre wants to take him home and kiss him in his too-bland kitchen, right up against the island he’d disbelievingly questioned legitimacy of because this does not look like a land mass. Pierre wants to make him happy here.

Charles seems to understand, though, that there are boundaries that can’t be crossed. Instead of allowing Pierre to linger in his own fantasies, he tugs their hooked arms forward towards one of the wrought-iron archways leading back to the paved city. “Well—it is dark, now, Pierrot, and I think beloved Odette is going to worry about the both of us if we remain out here any longer.”

Ah, yes. “You’re probably right,” he hums in reply, lifting off of Charles’ wrist in favor of digging out his phone from where it’s fallen deep in his pants pocket. With one hand, he types off a message to his daughter—found him, safe, on our way back—and then pockets it again. “It’s a beautiful night, your highness,” he murmurs after a moment. “Could I walk you home?” Even with their arms linked, Pierre still mock-bows a little too deeply, drawing a bright laugh that seemingly carries across the entire park. Charles pulls him back upright, beaming with amusement.

“You could use some royal training, Pierre Gasly,” he giggles. “I was better at this when I was twelve, and that was before they started making me balance books on my head.”

Pierre snorts. “You are not going to get me to do that, I can assure you.” But he keeps his arm linked in Charles’ the whole walk home all the same, taking in the amused bursts of chatter at each thing Charles wants to sing about as they slip through the busy night.