#two characters asks

Oh gosh. Oh god. This is really hard.

You have given me my 2 favorite non-musical theater characters possibly ever. AND they’re super similar.

It’s hard to compare them because Catra gets a redemption arc and Azula never does, so Catra is much easier to relate to and sympathize with by the end. She also has less time of being a straight-up villain than Azula.

But god, all that being said, I guess I have to say Azula, at least right now. I know she’s evil, I know she’s done some bad things, but she has so many layers, and she’s badass and makes the show so much better but she’s also heartbreaking and her arc is so well done.

I mean, she’s my icon. I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t choose her.

20: Cookies [Xavier/Gaspard]

Oatmeal. Chocolate. Ginger spice.

It starts in their college days, probably, when they end up neighbours with their doors facing each other’s in their dorm. Gaspard appears to have a wilder personality than the very first impression indicated and Xavier doesn’t know what to think of him during the first week or two, at once fascinated but a little disgusted also with his partying habits (spitting beer - ugh!). But soon enough, studies begin to settle them down, and their particular dorm reverts to the sort of self-absorbed hush demanded of them by academia; better suited to Xavier’s domain, in other words, and then he can come out and spend long hours in the kitchen, nursing coffee mugs and chatting to all who come by and the scent of cinnamon and butter forever soaked into his clothes.

Later it turns out that there’s no better scent to get Gaspard’s attention.Xavier isn’t asking for it at this point in time, but Gaspard gives it to him anyway. Something about working late and sugar cravings and Xavier smelling far too good in the middle of the night. They get talking during a midnight baking session, and by four in the morning, they are very reluctant to stop, not to mention that Xavier’s tempted him over to his side with an extra large hazelnut and chocolate chip. 

They become friends after that. And what’s more - reciprocity is in the cards.Christmas comes and Xavier bakes up five trays of sugar cookies to distribute, pleased with the taste but fussing about the aesthetics of it. Gaspard rolls up his sleeves, fetches the food colouring, and over the course of three hours makes such artwork out of them that Xavier has to be cajoled with tears and begging just to persuade him to give them away as originally intended. Xavier might be the better baker, yes, but nobody can ice like Gaspard. They don’t just share in fond things, they are complimentary, two sides of one coin.

Xavier thinks he might be in love.

Over the years to come, they share in more things beside cookies. They’re in a different dorm building for their second year, becoming next-door neighbours that time, and then in the years to come they move off campus and learn to manage being on different floors. Hardly a day goes by when they aren’t over at each other’s places, exchanging music and notes (for the couple of classes they do share) and art and knowing glances and some more of those delectable baked goods they’ve developed a taste for. Whether it’s a full-on dinner invite or Xavier turning up barefoot with cookies still loose on the baking tray - here, guess who wound up with too many, Gaspard, just take them off me already ‘cause it’s freezing out here - they feed each other with such gladness that word starts to get around. It makes them blush, but it doesn’t stop the exchanges, nor does it stop whatever they get up to in their respective love lives.Xavier’s sometime girlfriend loves to cook the same things as he does. Gaspard’s girlfriend isn’t into cooking but is very well-versed in the art of drink. They all learn to make do. But at the heart of it is still the exchange between Xavier and Gaspard, who by that point have improved beyond simple chocolate chip or sugar cookies to fancier recipes - because, whether they know it or not, they are now cooking to impress.

And impressed they are. It takes some trial and error because for all the things they share, they are not very verbal people, and more than once they misinterpret who the other one is trying to flatter. But eventually they get it, and come graduation time they walk arm in arm with each other with certificates rolled up in one hand and the aroma of celebratory Siena-spice cookies already driving them to pleasure. 

And who could blame them? - Ah, tasting each other’s wares for so long have made them curious for the taste of each other. “Needs more vanilla.” Gaspard comments quietly the morning after, mulling over the taste of the batter on his tongue, before drawing Xavier’s bare finger further between his lips. “But let me... mmh... make absolutely sure, just in case.”“Gaspard,” Xavier breathes, already heaved upon the kitchen table, a sugar-dusted apron the only thing covering his body. It is swiftly untied and pushed to the floor as Gaspard moves over him, licking all over, before claiming his sugared body as his own at last. “ahh.”

(They never manage to bake that batch. It’s too thin by the time they’re done. “You’re a darling,” Xavier says nonetheless, pressing a kiss to Gaspard’s throat. “I mean, we have sweeter things to think about, yeah?”)

And so their student days come to an end, all the caffeine-haze days of busy schoolwork and complimentary baked goods passed out on the floor. All the people they’ve known move on to elsewhere, but as the years go by Xavier and Gaspard remain together, never once forgetting what brought them together. What began as a way of soothing the spirit, then bruised by academia, has evolved into a method of purely and simply charming others: forget Pedro’s raclette parties, what the two of them bring to the table together never fails to bring the house down. That’s either food or music, and in all honesty, there’s probably not that much of a difference between the two categories at this point.

What is it that ties them together? Why, pleasure, of course. Call it sophistication or growing up or whatever you’d like. Only when Xavier and Gaspard learnt to see beyond the physical exchange of goods were they able to flourish; yes, pleasure is the essence, the warmth of the soul that comes with sharing and understanding and simply existing together, bettering themselves day by day. Becoming champion bakers has proved to be more of a side effect - but well, who wouldn’t want to be? Blessed is their life together.

50: Breaking the Rules [Xavier/Gaspard]

Here is a thought to consider.

The translation of the Old and New Testaments into the vernacular is to be considered groundbreaking regardless of whenever and wherever it happened. Now God speaks to us in all languages, and in turn, we are encouraged to speak of his glory in whatever tongue suits us best - but we must never forget that it wasn’t always so, especially not in the Catholic tradition. Jerome it was, with his cave and his book, who first made Latin holy; and so holy his book stayed until the year of our Lord 1979, the Vulgate only then revised short of the second millennium. There were nearly fifteen hundred years in between. One must never forget that such a level of dedication exists in the Church, if not admire it outright. 

It follows, then, that the followers of that Church are often similarly dedicated. 1979 was not such a long time ago, after all. And now, with that thought in mind, Xavier de Rosnay must stand with his Bible in hand and regard his best-beloved pass by, the one with dark curls and a grave countenance and a laudate Dominum de caelis still stubborn on his lips. For years, while everyone else bowed their head and murmured in their native French, Xavier’s friend kept his back straight and answered the liturgy in the sacred language; well, given that he has been newly-ordained, his faith has paid off, that’s for sure. He and the Nova Vulgate are cradle-mates and he took to the latter with great enthusiasm, to a degree that still makes Xavier jealous, despite knowing how ridiculous it is. 

Laudent nomen Domini quoniam ipse mandavit et creata sunt,statuit ea in saeculum et in saeculum, praeceptum dedit et non praeteribit.

They meet eyes. Gaspard acknowledges him with a nod, but no smile. Xavier can’t say he’s enchanted, but even when Gaspard does smile at him, it’s never the kind reserved for the wonder of their Lord, anyhow. It drives Xavier half mad with desire just as much as frustration. How he loves Gaspard, this man of faith, this fundamental contradiction. As much as he tries to hide it, Xavier knows the truth too well: Gaspard’s insistence on the Latin liturgy is no sign of obedience, and it never was. It was in the sixties that the current French liturgy was permitted. Neither of them were alive to see it first implemented, but they were not so far behind that there weren’t a lot of approving stares from the elders in their direction when they heard the ancient language. Xavier remembers finding this excruciating on a weekly basis, but Gaspard simply had to do what was right. It was not until Xavier got older that he realized that being right has nothing to do with adhering to rules, especially not that of human beings. Using Latin is just as arbitrary a rule as the other, surely, it just happens to be an older tradition - and that’s not even getting into the fact that the French liturgy is just as blessed by the Church as the Vulgate was. And if Gaspard is willing to kick certain rules to the curb for his faith, who knows what else he’s willing to cast aside for his own gain?

Iuvenes et virgines, senes cum iunioribus: laudent nomen Domini.

Gaspard hasn’t thought that through, or if he has, he’s trying to deny it.Xavier never confronted him with that knowledge, as it would have been cruel. Under the right circumstances, however, it would be liberating. Gaspard is at the front of the church now, hands pressed together in silent prayer. His eyes, closed; his mouth, soft; the lean stretch of his body, wholly pure.Xavier watches with hooded eyes and intoxicated smiles. Yes, he’s waiting for the right moment to tell Gaspard, he has been for a long time; ever since he was first young and fruited he was waiting, dreaming of the day he would kiss the veil from his friend’s eyes. There is nothing else beyond the body, Gaspard, he would whisper, and at first he might wince and plead Xavier to recant - but ah, it won’t be long before he sees, before he learns to contemplate Xavier at a closer distance, golden bodies and wine-drenched lips and their ecstasy made holy. 

Confessio eius super caelum et terram, et exaltabit cornu populi sui.

He can’t wait. But for now, he too closes his eyes and prays.He knows to believe, after all. Rules or no rules, that is yet another truth.