#...and you KNOW that this isn't their fault and you tell them that but it's still rough...

[tiyoin]

I LOVE ANGST AND UR TWISTED ANXIETY SERIES PLS. What do u think of like erhmm Yuu and reader get on an argument (SOMEHOW LIKE READER TRIES TO TALK TO U AND HOW THEY FEEL AND STUFF and maybe yuus in a lot of stress so it isn't their fault either) and then it goes to the breaking point where yuus like maybe u are a leech!! 🤬👨‍🍼AND THEN INSTANTLY READER SHUTS UP AND LEAVES IDK THE DORM but yuus like they'll come back they don't have a place to sleep in so it's fine!! But for dramatic effect it was like night time and then it rains and reader goes like damn.. Even the sky hates me THEN BOO chenya appears suddenly I'm guessing he's like there to mess w riddle but got caught in the rain and they have a conversation then chenya kidnaps them into RSA WHERE THEY FEEL MORE ACCEPTED. I wanna know how Yuu feels and the other chars abt it. IDK WHAT I'M YAPPING ABT BUT PLEASEEE 😭

YOU🫵

you're evil and I LOVE YOU

YES YES YES YES YESY YES YES

maybe its after an overblot to make things worse, or maybe things are finally getting good for our little mc and mc is SO excited to tell yuu about everything that's been happening behind the scenes. only for yuu to snap.

orz maybe

mc is in an especially bad rut and they're looking for comfort (yuu) but mc overhears yuu and a few characters talking about mc and yuu defends them at first but then out of no where is like 'you're right. they're always around me- I know they have... problems but I have a life too ya know?'

and maybe mc off ahdnedly mentions this the next time yuu tries talking to them and they get into a fight where yuu says things they HEAVILY regret and use things mc has told them in confidence against them

to make things WORSE (😈) it could be in front of mc's new friends, in front of the first years, in front of house wardens, or teachers. idk but this is a PUBLIC FIGHT and mc is abosultly humiliated and runs deep into the forest surrounding the school.

or maybe its at an unbirthday party they were invited to (via trey or cater) and maybe cater or one of the first years play a prank and mc gets blamed for it and that's how the explosive fight happens?

but all I know is that chen'ya was in the right place right time and swept mc away with comforting words and promises of a safe place.

and afterwards? yuu feels absolute horrible as yuu and grim wait tensely on the porch of ramshackle. its already been hours and the sun is setting. yells of mc's name echo through out the school as their friends search high and low for them- a day or two passes and it becomes a school wide issue. missing students at arc are...common. but this is a magic less human girl with 'powerful friends' AND a vice house warden.

but mc is... fine. better than fine. she has found a supportive system at nrc, is treated like glass and is actually seen at this school. the professors are accommodating and the principal has given her her own room! he understand mc's position completely and his priority is making sure that she is mentally sound and physically safe... and if he has to keep a secret from the rival school, then so be it.

maybe months pass and there's a notable tension in the air at nrc. yuu looks horrible, grim has LOST WEIGHT. and mc's friends are tired, snippy. the teachers and stricter and no one's heard from the ghost in the forest...

until a multi school competition is held, or a multi school field trip and there's a bell ringing- no, it almost sounds like mc...

and can you IMAGINE the pain and resentment the nrc cast feels seeing you healthy, HAPPY AND CONFIDENT with those preppy pretentious rsa students??

they'll 100% think that mc got abducted and is being held hostage until they see how you CLINGY to a tall pink hair cat beastman.. didn't you hate people touching you?....

will some of them be relieved you're okay? or are they all shunning you.. but you look so.. free.. you never looked like that once at nrc... and your face was fuller... you we're actually eating..

eyes brighter and... sevens you never looked so beautiful in white

IM GOING CRAZY RAHHH

[captainmera]

Am I crazy or were you the person who made that hc of Philip and Caleb being half brothers? I've been looking for it forever but I can't find it- thought I might ask in case it was another artist! :"0

I headcanon them as half-brothers, yes! Different fathers. I like playing with the social stigmas of the time, and being a bastard carried a much heavier burden back in the days. :)

Why do you ask? :0 /lighthearted/curious

More rambles under cut.

It also gives a layer of pressure between the brothers, since Caleb knows and Philip doesn't. Caleb pretends they're full-blooded brothers, to spare Philip the shame and stigma.

But it also adds some flavour to the drama - since it means Philip’s father isn't dead, and thus not an absolute orphan (if his father would accept a bastard son, concieved in those circumstances, that is.)

Meaning that IF his father wants him, Caleb has kept that from him. And if he doesn't, the rejection might scar him irreversibly.

Caleb is doing a lot for Philip that Pip is clueless about. As often is the case when you protect people you care about.

He doesnt know if this is something Philip wants to know about himself or not. So he's waiting for a day it is either unavoidable to converse about, or when he feels Philip is mature enough to handle it.

Caleb often dangles Philips youth over him. Telling him he's too little to participate in things he's doing. It's worked to do that, but now that tactic has developed into a complex, where Philip wants to prove himself as an equal. That he's both smart and mature enough to do what Caleb does.

So Philip doesn't want to play, he wants to study, and he's acting aloof and like he doesn't care about "silly childish things" because he wants to be respected as an adult - he's not an adult. He's a teenager acting like he's older than he is. He uses big smart words and inserts himself in hopes to blend in.

This, of course, is just a foundation to who he becomes as Philip when Luz meets him. Someone who is goal oriented and only sees social interaction as a means to get ahead, not make friends.

Caleb is someone who makes friends because he knows it's always good to have allies, but also because he's painfully lonesome and worries for Philip. Philip sees Caleb making friends and getting favours, without a cost. He doesn't see the depth of Caleb's interactions or build up. He just hears the compliments and charms, and mimics him on a surface level.

Which also is what makes Philip (when he meets Luz) as the sort of person who just says things (to Lilith and Luz) because he knows it'll make them trust him.

Philip observes his brother in his role as an adult, guardian, older brother, etc.. and uses that as a template to strive for.

If he's the same way, Caleb must think of him as an equal after all.

It's just the two of them. The Wittebane brothers are only a family of two. As far as Philip is concerned, Caleb is his only family and his best friend. He admires his brother. he's both his hero and life mentor. Caleb is the only one who gets him, stands up for him, tutors him in life.

Caleb wants Philip to go play, have fun, Philip doesn't want to. He resents all the playfulness and doesn't see it forvwhat it is.

Adding to why he, as Belos, doesn't let the grimwalkers play around or make friends either. Why he's fine with letting a child like Hunter have an adult role as a golden guard.

And ultimately also why he goes to "save" Caleb. Saving him from a witch would not only prove himself to his brother, it'd prove to himself too.

He's stuck in the idea of his brother. Much of which is half-of Caleb's fault for keeping so many things to himself. But also, like, it's not necessarily a bad thing to have done.

When Philip kills Caleb, he chooses to remain in his ideas.

I think belos as a character is supposed to represent someone who cannot let go, chooses to remain in his escapism world,to never face the pain and loss he's caused/experienced.

Luz being told she's "just like him", I always felt was an odd line for him to say. Based on what?

Thematically, it makes more sense, as Luz is also running away into escapism to avoid the grief, loss and pain shes dealing with. She latched onto the Azura books to escape and feel understood.

Just like Philip latched on witch hunting to feel part of his town, and his brother, and ny extension - understood.

And both are willing to sacrifice everything even themselves to save the people they love.

The difference is that Belos cannot let go. He remains stuck in fantasy because that's what he understands.

Caleb was the only one who understood him, and he's dead. He made no new friends, he didn't move on, he made grimwalkers to be understood by and they betray him - forever the victim. Never to blame. He hides behind moral righteousness and thinks he's above it.

Him mockingly saying things like "sure, I'll play." Clues me into that he's always kind of seen it as a bad thing. He and Caleb played, but then Caleb most likely had to stop; asking Pip to play with other children and make friends.

And it probably didn't go so well. Philip is probably like Luz, holding up snake skin and dramatically re-enacting the death of a witch.

And gave up all together. Because puritan society is a bitbrougher in their rejection than modern society. And Caleb most likely had a long talk with him about covering that up (like Camila sending Luz to camp).

And what he and Caleb played were witch hunter and witch. And listened to Calebs amazing tales of heroes, and how that must've given Philip (later Belos) a moral code to be a hero (like Luz) because it's the good and righteous thing to be.

But yes, anyway....

Half brothers.

Caleb doesn't think it makes them less family, even if society and culture would think that. He loves Philip. What is tightfully his, to him, is also rightfully Philip’s.

He's kept it quiet because not only would people treat him very differently, his opportunities in life would be halven. He wouldn't be eligible for some legal things, either, or be considered a good match as a husband one day. People would be expecting him to be fundamentally "off."

One day, Philip will find out. And think that's why he doesn't fit in. That it's why he's unlike other kids and teens. And realise that Caleb has always known, and seem them as equal in blood. Given him his father's surname, claiming him.

That sort of grace and love is, in that era, pretty bold and mighty.

Caleb had no obligation to keep and raise his mother's bastard son. Or share his name with him. Cloth and feed and love him; even be expected to abandon him.

He did it anyway. Caleb gave up his dreams and life and childhood for him.

To feel indebt is an understatement. To feel even further from truly being seen as his equal, is also an understatement. Now he has more to prove.

And then Caleb was taken to the demon realm.

And the tale goes as you know it. :,)

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: Five different perspectives on Nanami Kento.

Tags: Angst, humour, mystery, character study.

Warnings: canon-typical violence.

"I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.

Whatever I see I swallow immediately

Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.

I am not cruel, only truthful‚

The eye of a little god, four-cornered."

~ The Mirror, Sylvia Plath

Yoshinari remembers that day well. Even now, decades later, his team leader's near-panicked expression stands out with harsh clarity in his mind. Yoshinari had just mentioned that he hadn't finished the analysis due that afternoon because he'd been struck down with a bad bout of flu. Whirling on his heel, the team lead had really let fly with his irritation.

"But we had an agreement! You were to complete the analysis the day before yesterday! There'll be no excuse at all for us walking into that meeting unprepared!"

"But sir ... I had a lot to catch up on that evening. And I - "

"I'm done with this conversation! Come up with something, or explain to the chief why you couldn't finish your basic tasks on time."

Left standing in the empty hallway, Yoshinari had let frustration, anger, self-pity and helplessness wash over him, bitter as a brackish tide. Nobody ever listened to him. Nobody ever understood how the demands of this job couldn't be humanly met unless he practically lived at the office. Nobody cared what his state of health was. Nobody -

"Are you all right?"

Hastily wiping off the corner of his eye, he turned to see none other than Nanami Kento standing in the doorway leading from the hallway to the main office floor. Nanami, whose reports were always turned in on time. Nanami, whose suits were never rumpled, whose clients never complain, whose presentations were always meticulous, who never spilled a drop or wasted a crumb when he ate -

Tamping down the rising envy and resentment for the tall man standing before him, Yoshinari sighed and embraced the inevitable. It isn't Nanami's fault. Nanami is simply doing the job, like the rest of them. He just happened to be a lot more competent at it than most. 

"I'm a bit ... under the weather, that's all. There's a meeting this afternoon. I won't be prepared because I haven't had time to get the quarterly analysis done."

Nanami watched him in silence. Yoshinari continued, chest feeling slightly less heavy as he vented to his quiet companion.

"I just wish ... that we were given more value, you know? We're not robots. We're people. And sometimes, we ... I can't get all my tasks done. I just wanted ... some understanding. That's all."

Yoshinari realized just how petulant he sounded the more he spoke. His voice trailed off, and he avoided the other man's gaze. What must Nanami think of someone like him? Did he pity him? Was he annoyed by him and his complaining? Was he indifferent, like everyone else? It was hard to tell.

Nanami never lost his composure, never expressed strong emotion, never seemed anything other than cool and detached. He must think that someone like Yoshinari was worthy of pity and contempt. Nothing more.

Without waiting for Nanami's reply, Yoshinari turned and made his way to the elevators, trying to focus on the client briefing lined up (and not the humiliation and reprimands he'd have to endure later.)

The humiliation never came, though. Walking into the meeting that afternoon, Yoshinari was met with the huffy, slightly startled demeanor of the team leader when he was complimented on his 'sterling work', handed a steaming cup of coffee and patted on the back. He sat through the rest of the meeting in a daze, mind still struggling to grapple with what had occurred.

When he got a chance, he snuck a look at the analysis that supposedly came from him. There, in the phrasing, the layout, the orderly sequences of figures and the in-depth breakdown of each element, he recognises the hand of Nanami Kento.

When the meeting was over, he tried to find Nanami, to thank him for that unexpected favour. A part of him was beginning to take the assistance with a pinch of salt; what did Nanami expect in return for this?

When he eventually spied Nanami, he paused, the report crumpling slightly in his hand. Coat draped over his chair, tie cast over one shoulder, sleeves rolled up and chair reclining, Nanami's hollowed eyes and sharply-defined cheekbones were covered with a white handkerchief, the marks of exhaustion clear in his bearing.

Many years later, watching his grandchildren chase each other around the darkened trunk of a plum tree, a soft, secret smile finds its home on Yoshinari's face as he remembers that day. He glances up at the delicate blossoms, pushing their heads insistently into the fresh bite of a new spring day and wonders if Nanami ever had grandchildren of his own.

Warmth. Kinship. Command.

When Master calls me out, I recognise the tug and relentless pull into another place. This place. This world of scent and colour and sound, where I am given form.

My Master's hands smell of paper, freshly cut apples and grass. They are firm and familiar as their fingers run through my fur. Sometimes, Master brings us out of the other place without urgency, simply to keep us at his side.

Megumi.

That is my Master's given name. He is dark in spirit, light of foot, and his mouth seldom curves, like the other humans. But when we are all together, pack, bodies curled up and sharing warmth, Master's eyes are like a distant lamp, flickering softly.

The white-veined one names my Master as Megumi. He is the one with power like a great summer storm, sweeping with acrid sharpness across the senses and scorching the unseen world in his wake. His hair is white too, his spirit leaping from one focus to the next, lightning and laughter.

The white-veined one is trustworthy. He is pack, but even though Master trusts him completely, he makes others nervous.

And then, there is the Blademaster. This one is almost familiar. He is like Master in many ways. He smells of good food, old leather and the sharp tang of polished metal. His power is an underground river, swift and subtle, rising to a well-controlled roar when he calls upon it.

The Blademaster avoids pack. He likes to sit alone on the benches at sunset, sometimes, with his food in an oval box at his side. He stares a lot into the sky. Only he knows what he sees there.

The sky doesn't hold much interest for me, but the smells from the Blademaster's box always call for attention. He has meat in there. And cheese. Sometimes, if I press my nose into his hand, he shares his food. It is good food. It tastes better when he offers it out of his own palm.

The Blademaster's hand is bigger, rougher around the fingers than Master's. He is an experienced warrior, and he has been in many fights. The scent of it is on him, in ways that cannot be disguised. He carries the smell of old wounds, of battles that etched away at the parts of him than leave no visible scars. 

Sometimes, his pain is great. Those times, he needs pack, even if he doesn't know it. I find him, at his bench. Even though he has no food, I sit with him. His fingers in my fur are different, but warm, like Master's.

We watch the sky together.

It's the bustle of the lunch rush that brings him suddenly into her mind; tall, broad-shouldered, imposing in his dark, pinstripe suit. She's seen many, many salarymen enter her establishment over the years, but none quite like him.

He'd seemed hard, humourless, exacting, a man of substance and character, whittled away bit by bit by the hundred inconveniences and troubles of everyday life. Her attempts to cheer him up always fell flat. Her jokes landed like stale bread on a food critic's plate.

"Hey, Nanami! Good to see you! Decided to loaf around on your lunch break again?"

"How am I loafing?"

"Ah, that was just a pun. You know. Because you come here to buy sandwiches."

"Do you charge extra for the puns? Because I'm not paying for that."

"Wow. So cold ... "

And on another occasion:

"Hey Nanami! Knock knock."

" ... "

"You're supposed to say 'who's there?'"

"Who's there."

"As a question, not a statement!"

"Does it matter?"

"Fine. It's doughnut."

"Doughnut who?"

"Dough nut enter the shop without checking out the specials!"

"Please just give me the sandwich."

Ah, those were good times. Maybe he did appreciate her silly attempts at humour on some level. She'd never know.

Sometimes, she wonders if she shouldn't have asked him for help. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut about that pesky stiffness and pain in her shoulder joint. There was no way she could have known what would happen next.

She recalls, with perfect clarity, the sudden change in his demeanour. The subtle straightening of his posture, the focus of that intense honey-brown stare, the way he'd looked at and past her, as if glancing through some secret window into an unknown she could never fathom. And then, he'd raised his arm, swung it in that swift, decisive motion, and her pain disappeared in a matter of seconds.

She still wonders how exactly he'd accomplished that. Was he a spiritual healer of some kind? She couldn't think of an occupation less suited to someone like him. All the same, she was thankful. She'd even packed a free almond croissant and coffee with his sandwich the next day, kept aside for the lunch rush.

Except, he'd never shown up. Not that day, or the next, or the day after that. Nanami simply disappeared from the normal routine of his life altogether.

Of course, she made some enqueries. She was somewhat concerned, considering how sudden his absence had been. What if he'd overworked himself enough to end up in hospital? It wasn't unheard of.

His work colleagues, some of whom also frequented the bakery, told her that he'd suddenly up and left. Handed in his resignation and promptly disappeared.

She'd never heard from him, ever again. It wasn't that she was upset or offended. Customers changed their whims daily. But with him ... something about it concerned her. What would prompt a creature of habit, like Nanami, to suddenly change his routine? There was probably a perfectly sound explanation for it, but it worried her all the same.

After all these years, even now, as manager of her own small dessert shop, not far from the original bakery she'd served at, she'd never taken the casse-croûte off the menu.

It would remain there, for the day he might come through the door once again, and she'd say it, just like she'd rehearsed in her mind so many times. 

"Welcome back, Nanami. The usual?"

Pain. This is all that she thinks, all that she feels. It is all-consuming. It isn't like the time she broke her finger after a particularly bad fall when she was ten years old. Not even like the wound left when her mother died; gaping, raw around the edges, on display for all that looked her way.

This pain was, somehow, even worse than that. Pain that twisted and tore through the fabric of her, agony piled on agony, neverending. It stretched beyond her, into a night of unknown horrors that she had no means of comprehending.

Something was very, very wrong with her body. This much she could tell, even as she wove in and out of consciousness. The sense of change to her own form, of being maimed in some fundamental sense, was so strong that she wondered how she was still alive.

His hands. So cold. Pain beyond imagining. She doesn't want to enter that forbidden entryway in her thoughts. Someone did this to her. Someone made her helpless, controlled her. Turned her into this grotesque travesty of a living thing. She should feel furious, that this had been done to her. But she doesn't have the capacity for anything but pleading, begging for a swift release from this torment.

Something is shifting around her now. She cannot even brace for the agony, because there are no known muscles for her to do so. Her body feels like a shapeless, amorphous mass that changes according to the unknown puppeteer's will.

Now, she feels the brush of fetid air on her flesh, the dank, mossy wall of some subterranean feature, a dizzying sense of being propelled at high speed through a narrow space.

Someone is moving alongside her, dodging, weaving. Not the puppeteer. Another. Their movements are swift, strong, filled with a measured grace that dances around her striking, flailing limbs (if they can still be called such) with dexterity. She tries to fight back against the overpowering will, to stop any harm coming to that person. It is futile.

Another shift, her body stretched in another direction. And - oh! Air! Damp and rank in scent, something like a sewer, but never more welcome. Her senses had been cloaked, due to the current nature of her body, but now, she was aware of eyes, ears, nose, a budding mouth that opened in a soundless cry for help.

He heard her.

He was standing over her, feet braced on her alien form. A man in dark glasses and a suit, a strangely patterned sword at his side. The sensation of the strangely blunt blade cleaving her flesh as she hurtles at him is weighted, some kind of energy behind it.

He can cause damage to her in this form! He can ...

But her mouth doesn't work the way it's supposed to. She can't beg him, can't plead with him to end this abysmal existence that only serves as torture. The terror, anger, frustration and hopelessness have no channel by which to reach the outside world any longer.

No! Please! Help me!

Wrung from dregs of her despair, a single tear forms at the corner of her existing eye, rolling down the distended, distorted skin.

Is this it? Is this all she can summon?

But he sees it. His hand is reaching down, towards where she lies, helpless beneath his feet, helpless to the whim of another. His thumb is warm, so warm, as he strokes beneath her eye, dashing away the trace of the tear.

In the moments that follow, before her consciousness finally descends into blessed, blessed darkness, she memorizes the feel of that touch, the last thing on this earthly plane that she'll ever know.

For all her suffering, let it never be said that she hasn't known true kindness.

Gojo and Namamin. Side by side, they're day and night. Yuuji can see that, and often delights in it. He thinks about it now, as he brushes his teeth, one hand carding absently through the tangles in his hair.

Gojo operated on a certain wavelength Yuuji had been attuned to since the very beginning. Nanamin, less so.

When Yuuji really thinks about it, it reminds him somewhat of the recipes his grandfather taught him. Gramps's house was one run on self-sufficiency. There was never an excuse for slacking off.

Gojo was like the spicy miso ramen he'd learned to make, the one with the specially crafted chilli oil and the perfect ramen egg for topping. A wash of heat, scorching the tongue and throat, a burst of flavour that somehow lingered long after it had rushed past your teeth like a flashflood. It entertained, it sustained, it left you feeling warm and energized.

Nanamin was like bread.

Now, Yuuji wasn't crazy about bread. He was more of a rice-bowl kinda guy. But the baking of bread was something he'd never quite managed to get the hang of, to begin with. His grandfather eyeballed ingredients, kneaded with rapid, dexterous fists, added an extra pinch of salt here, or a splash of milk there, depending on the type and texture of bread he wanted. It was as if Gramps could envision an end product that Yuuji had no concept of at all.

Namamin had been just as difficult to gauge in the mixing bowl of Yuuji's experience. Practical, rule-following, collected and proper. Spontaneity could take a hike, as far as Nanamin was concerned. Not the kind of man to pretend to be dead and then hop out of a box when you least expect it.

Ha. Anyway.

Bread. That's the analogy he was going with, and the one he was finding increasingly appropriate.

Pulling on his uniform jacket, Yuuji felt the familiar tug and rumble of hunger ascend from his stomach. He tied the laces on his signature red sneakers and grabbed his backpack, heading for the Tech cafeteria for breakfast.

Thinking over it further, bread was ... a staple. It was not to everyone's taste. It was simple, filling, a great companion piece for more flavourful ingredients. And hellishly difficult to bake correctly. For Yuuji, at least.

Yeah. Bread. It was a good comparison.

Turning the corner, Yuuji nearly ran right into the current occupant of his thoughts.

"Ah ... Nanamin! You're here early today!"

"Good morning, Yuuji. Please be careful. I have a cup of hot coffee here."

Falling into step beside the stoic sorcerer (uninvited) Yuuji decided to share some of his thoughts, an uncharacteristically serious expression adorning his face.

"Nanamin, there's something I've been thinking about."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. If I had to compare you to a food, it'd be bread."

A silence meets this statement. Nanami takes a sip of his coffee. Undeterred, Yuuji continues.

"Like, I love a good katsudon, but when it's midnight and I've been training hard, and I wake up all tired and my body's all sore ... I just go make a sandwich, ya know? Even when Gramps was in hospital and I used to get back from school, and oh, yeah, I sometimes forgot to buy groceries ... there was still bread. Just a loaf, there on the counter. And it didn't matter if there were no other ingredients to cook with, or anything, because you can't go wrong with a fried egg on some fresh, crispy toast. Ahh, yeah. The best."

Nanami adjusted his glasses slightly.

"Itadori ... is this your way of informing me that you find me reliable?"

"Huh? Oh ... I mean, yeah. But that's not all."

"It isn't?"

"Nah. 'Cos I baked bread with my Gramps, see? And it was hard to get right. But I did, at some point. And it felt ... great. And I never got it wrong again. And Gramps is gone now, I know. But when I miss him, kinda, baking bread helps me remember what it was like having him around."

Having said his piece, Yuuji folded his arms behind his head, marching peaceably alongside Nanami, lightly humming the theme song to the latest show he'd been watching. Nanami was now looking down, into his coffee. He didn't take another sip. His voice, when he spoke, was quieter than usual.

"I like sandwiches. Trying different fillings is something of a hobby of mine."

Yuuji nods, a light grin forming on his face.

"I can tell."

"Having said that ... I'm partial to fried chicken and beer on a Tuesday afternoon. It ... reminds me of when I was younger."

"Whoa. For real?"

"Yes."

"But Nanamin ... isn't fried chicken and beer the kind of thing you share with others?"

"It is."

"Hmmm."

Yuuji appears to give this some serious thought, before slapping his fist into his palm as an epiphany strikes.

"But wait! Let's get it together next time! I won't drink the beer, don't worry. I can get a soda or something."

"What - "

"And we can order the MegaBox deal that also comes with a medium pizza and cheese croquettes!"

"Yuuji - "

"Oooh, I'm so excited! I wonder what their pizza base is like? But hey, Nanamin, I've gotta run ahead. Maki-senpai's training with me today and she'll kick my ass if I'm late. See ya on Tuesday!"

All thoughts of bread firmly shelved for the present, Yuuji trotted further up the corridor and through the sliding doors of the cafeteria, pausing to wave at Nanami as he left his line of vision.

Yuuji doesn't get to see the small smile that temporarily eases the harsh lines of the sorcerer's face. It is fleeting, gentle, an echo of a smile he'd worn for another, long ago.

Dividers by: @sister-lucifer

[miwiheroes]

Mike and El's conflict is not just about him not being able to say 'I love you.'

It's about the fact they just don't understand each other anymore. Even if he was truthful about loving her in the end, it doesn't matter. Their relationship's building blocks are still broken. Here's why:

"I guess I just don't really understand."

"I mean, you've seen it, I've been bullied my entire life."

"I know what it's like."

"I understand"

"Just please don't tell the others okay? They won't understand."

"Eleven would. She always did."

"No. You don't."

"What don't I understand?"

"I am different." "You think I'm a monster too."

I really don't think anyone truly realises what the Mike and El fight in season 4 does to their relationship. Yes, it is basically all about how El tells Mike that he isn't loving her in the way that she needs, and that Mike just thinks of her as his superhero rather than a human being. However, this is a total break down in their relationship as a whole.

Their whole relationship was built in season 1 and 2 on a certain type of shared trauma, attachment to the person who gave you care, fascination and most of all, understanding. Mike was attached to her in season 2 and season 1 and had the first inkling that he might have liked her because he thought, 'finally someone who understands me'.

That understanding is gone. I repeat, it is gone. In this scene, with the broken diorama, it is established that the fundamental building blocks of their relationship too, are broken.

Many people think that by the end of season 4, Milkvan is completely fixed. Because Mike said 'I love you' and y'know what, let's say he meant everything he said! What if he did mean that he loved her? (even though that's not the case but walk with me here).

That still doesn't resolve everything.

Wait. But that was their only problem, right? That was all their argument was about, right?

Wrong. Their argument was also about El not understanding Mike, Mike not understanding El. And this part isn't fixed. Mike still calls her a superhero in his speech even if he is truthful, he still makes her feel like she's not a human being.

But:

"You make [me] feel like [I'm] not a mistake at all. Like [I'm] better for being different. And that gives [me] the courage to fight on."

Mike likes the words that Will says, and if he believes the lies that he's telling him, then that means he also likes having that sense of understanding between him and El. But in reality, it's not there. He feels warmth for feeling like he's being understood/ he understands someone else, but it's not El. It's Will.

"I am different. I do not belong." vs. "You make [me] feel like [I'm] better for being different."

When Mike finds out that it's not El that he makes feel like she's not a mistake, and that it's actually Will, he's gonna have a lot of questioning to do. Because, as Finn said:

"There's probably a mutual understanding and acceptance there, I think." (in relation to someone asking about mike's feelings here)

Mike will find that understanding he craves so much in a relationship. Will already believes that Mike understands him and makes him feel like he's not a mistake. Mike will find that understanding with Will, because it's mutual.

Uh so yeah, this is truly why I think for Mike's arc and El's arc, it makes no sense for them to be endgame, because they simply don't understand each other. But it's not anyone's fault.

[pleasantspark]

What do you think of this potential 4chan leak that Lucifer is the one responsible for the hierarchy and that Sloth, Gluttony and Lust are considered good sins? https://desuarchive.org/co/thread/145383112/#145394767

> Lucifer created the terrible hierarchy of Hell as well as the Deadly Sins. He is described as a moral neutral sin.

Well, neutral is far cutting it, remember he caused nearly everything to happen in Hell. He's described as sexy, when the only sexy thing about him is his depression. No one pointed out that Lucifer was at fault for all the things to begin with, but no people are like "B-B-B-B-BUT, we needed a story to kick off Charlie!" I feel like it's stupid, also, I am a depressed person and whenever a character who is depressed does something bad, they always have to empthize on the "UWU Depressed shit" which is shit you'd see on r/gachalifecringe or r/gachaclubcringe (Which I am a moderator on, and let me tell you, the Gacha side of the Hazbin Fandom is fucked up.). I feel like most don't care because they'd much rather ship RadioApple then point out the absolute fuckery that is Lucifer himself.

>The good sins are Asmodeus, Bee, and Belphegor. The bad sins are Satan, Leviathan, and Mammon. Beelzebub actively hates the hierarchy and how it treats her hellhounds, but there isn't anything she can do about it.

Okay, first off all the sins are bad, they cannot just pick and choose. For FUCKS sake, you know who her favorite is, the funny thing is, I like Mammon, he's cute and his design/accent are great (But nothing comes greater then Jeice), so she failed at making villains scary when all they are is extremely comical people who suck at villianing and suck at life.

> Leviathan is female and a fashion queen. Alot of Envy will be focused on fashion.

Paint me green and call me a fucking pickle, more backlash would be fucking impossible. Remind me what the fuck does Fashion have to do with Envy?

Sure, people can be envious of others looks, but that ISN'T the only thing possible to be envious of.

This is Leviathan from my Universe, he's a victim of abuse from his father. (Who by the way died because of the effect he has on people, later on.)

According to Levi's official description on the Wikia:

Leviathan isn't actually Envious, rather the curse he has causes anyone nearby of him close or not to get envious of him as a person which is the main reason why Agatha is acting out.

This would've been better, but complicated storylines and things pulled from TVTropes isn't what Viz likes. Yes, Leviathan is meant to be Stolas from HB but better, and yes, I DO VOICE LEVI.

So what's the issue with Levi liking fashion? Well, it's obvious that she needs another Diva because at this rate Velvette isn't enough, and most of the fuckers in the Pride Ring seems to be fitted for other rings too.

I feel like she's trying to assign something to these character's to make them unique, but they aren't.

Lucifer is literally the Sin of Pride, and the only thing prideful about him is his fruitiness, so add that to the level of "Bible things that Viv added" he's far from prideful, and that's a fact.

Coming from someone whose gay myself.

Mammon, oh sweet sweet Mammon, is just the Greedlr, but a Fat Nickado Avocado Characters, minus the screaming and fits. And aussie. Because "oooo people with accents arre baad"

Beezlebub, is just, well a Bee, because "HAHAH FUNNI BEE-ZLEBUB" she wanted to relieve her golden years of AMVs and Animation Meme-Esque content, also so she can brush hands with Kesha-Senpai. I swear to fuck, she asskisses alot.

And I am BARELY getting started.

> Stella is a decent mom to Octavia. She doesn't have many powers and isn't summoned to Earth like Stolas is.

If she's such a great Mom, you so claim she is, Viv, then why not show and NOT FUCKING TELL. All we see of her, is the way to make the audience feel bad for a [N word, black POC here. Don't wanna say it.] that ain't shit, Doja Cat was right, he ain't shit.

This is ridiculous, this was seen with Jeffy in SML, he was a hated character, Logan tried every trick in the book to get the audience to feel bad for him (I.E. Giving him an emotional manipulative mom, losing his sister, WITNESSING HIS LITTLE SISTER GETTING MOLESTED, etc etc) but the problem with making an auidence feel bad for the character, it gives a in character excuse to let them continue being pricks without any character development.

In conclusion:

More pointless rep that will be thrown out as soon as it appears

More things to hype up, but ultimately fumble the bag

It sucks

[unhinged-waterlilly]

Hello!

Something about @/demigod-jack-hearth

Something I wanna say about this post (with my reblog on it). I wanna give a side of a story. Mine to be exact.

They were one of the first people I talked to outside of rp. They were a close friend. But that fades.

I DONT WANT THEM TAGGED IN THIS I DONT WANT THEM TO KNOW ABOUT THIS. I HAVE THEM BLOCKED. IF THEY LEARN ABOUT THIS, IT IS BECAUSE SOMEONE SEND THIS TO THEM.

Tw: sa, strong language, I'm a little bitch, please please please read at your own risk

When start this by saying Jack worries me. I've seen so many post, rp or otherwise, where they bring up extremely triggering comments...just randomly. This has happened to me too. I don't get bothered by them I've been lucky enough to not deal with most and be comfortable with what I have dealt with. I think he needs professional help. Or to talk to someone that is an adult. This is difficult for some people. But there are free therapy websites out there. I have seen them. I have participated in them. The people on the other line aren't professionals but they are people willing to listen. And adults.

It started with when I saw an rp they had with camp Sky. I can't give screenshots of that but I do have some of confronting them.

Now all good right? Yeah! I thought so too. Untill an anon confronts em.

Posts here and here

Oh...kay? What's wrong about this?

Yeah...

Actively calling out anon

Now mind me I thought they had buried this au deep deep into the ground. Wasn't until I opened Circe's blog that I realised they didn't. I was pissed. I had every reason to be. We have so few stories of male victims as it is and this 'au' was blatantly disrespectful to victims of all genders. I felt really fucking disrespected that's for sure.

Unfortunately I don't confront them. But I do vent.

Now I feel bad for this. Maybe this was dirty laundry I shouldn't have aired out. But I was just so angry I couldn't think properly. I didn't mention Jack in this post, but friends figured it out. I won't say who these friends are for obvious reasons. Also, this is a bit wrong. They thought Odysseus cheated with only Circe, and Calyspo was SA. I got that wrong, and I admit it. I only remembered that when I scrolled up our dm to take a screenshot of it.

Now I wanted to leave that convo because I wasn't in the mood for arguing, and I've learned to give people what they want, which makes em and yourself stop. My fault again.

Things happen. It leads to the apology. Now, obviously, I can't tell if an apology is genuine through a screen, and I am most certainly a pessimist. So, like, I don't think it is. Also, I'm almost certain that most was written by whoever the friend was who 'helped' em.

Sure, people can change, but not enough times do they actually. Just look on the Internet. And real life. A person like Jack, well, they've talked to me enough to know it is most likely not the case. If they were so angry at a piece of good criticism, then I don't have much hope.

Am I an angry person ? Yes. Do I think I have the right to be? Yes. Am I also a logical person? I believe so. The people I've asked think so, too. I don't dislike something for no reason. But I do dislike things. What I do like is reasons for my dislikes. With me so far?

Good. Moving on.

After the apology and after I finally got my thoughts in order, I sent them a message because they tagged me. A lot.

This is what I sent. It's emotional, but in my opinion, it also makes sense. I was mad they lied to me. I was mad they twisted the story so. Fucking. Much. Odysseus isn't a rapist and Circe isn't an innocent flower. That is not what an AU is. What was their reaction to this? Nothing. To me at least.

A mutual friend told me they sent the last half of my messages and told them that they were angry I. Didn't. Thank. Them. For. The. Apology. Take that for what you will.

Now they made another post replying to the first anon who criticized them. I've read it. And when I tell you it is so fulled with self-pity-

I haven't collected my thoughts properly about this so this is bad and more emotion than the above. but this is the basic things behind it.

1) never directly addressing what he did and constantly tell em to read the apology. Don't wanna repeat yourself. How much time is it gonna take out of your day exactly?

2) not acknowledging the fact the male sa victim. At all. They don't say anything about it. No 'my condolences'. No 'I'm so sorry that happened to you' . Not acknowledging how terrible of a thing that is. At all.

3)says they aren't gonna defend themself... and defend themselves

4) have yet to tell us who these people are. Which is just bad cuz there are people out there who are okay with this. If they were IRL friends just say that.

5) it felt just fucking dull

Maybe this isn't right. Maybe you disagree with these points. But do not tell me you disagree with the rest.

I wanna end this by saying I am victim of SA. Did I tell him this? No. Maybe I should've. I don't feel comfortable sharing it. Because remembring fucking hurts. Remembering means crying and opening the lights and either sitting or laying down on my back because I can still. Fucking. Feel. It. And I was nine.

I don't want your pity on this. I don't want you to say sorry. The people you should be saying sorry to are the people who are not believed when this happens. Feel sorry for the people who cannot report this stuff because they don't trust the people who are supposed to protect them. Feel sorry for the people who think it was their fault and they actually wanted it when they didn't. 63% of rape are not reported in females. Only 12% of child rapes are reported.

I can't find a clear fucking statistics on males.

Do you know how difficult it is for males to have any representation at all? How many male victims do you see online? Even Odysseus being regonized as one is recent. Fucking. Stop. This is more than a made up story. It means the world to some people. So this actually happen. It might mean everything. This was taken away from them from so many retellings. And a stupid fucking au.

If you want to talk about SA, wanna make a character out of it, learn about it first.

So I'm not going to forgive and I am definitely not going to forget. You can. If you want. I don't care if you do. But I ask you not to forget. Please.

I am tagging Jack's taglist

@zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite @fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son @bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @hispanic-child-of-hermes @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial @reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia @that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass @kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @zoe-aura-of-d3ath @itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena @sleepy-as-a-song @smileyalater @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan @demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes @cloak-of-ares @heraaaaaaaa @unproblematic-hestia @i-was-never-sane

[uncanny-tranny]

Being in pain and anguish can make you a deeply unpleasant person when it starts to grate on you to the core of your soul how unwell you are, and it really can make interacting with others so much harder.

It is hard to be around other people when you're in pain, and the sounds around you quite literally hurt, and you feel the crushing weight of reality settling deep on your chest and throat, and it feels like the world is against you. It's hard to be "pleasant" when everything feels stacked against you.

I hope to be with all of you in a metaphorical way. It's hard to be disabled and to act "normal." It's important to recognize that we can become so entrenched in the horrors of disability and pain that we lash out because when we recognize the cause, we can start finding ways to notice what might help.

Disability can feel like you're turned into a shell of who you thought you "should" be. Give yourself the space to grieve if you need to. I know it's hard. Take it a day at a time.

[worstloki]

sigyn that married loki like ages ago so when it comes out he's jotun she's like. 'well it's a bit late to do anything about that'

[bumblingbabooshka]

One of the best Voyager scenes to indicate Tuvok & Neelix's dynamic and how I think Tuvok is just as if not more 'annoying'(positive) than Neelix is when Neelix pours Tuvok a fresh squeezed glass of a fruit juice blend and Tuvok's like (paraphrased) "I don't want to drink this." and Neelix is like "Can you please try it?" and Tuvok's like "I don't want to, you're really bad at this sort of thing. It's going to taste bad." and Neelix says that Ensign XYZ said she LOVED it, she even had a second glass! And Tuvok says Ensign XYZ could drink poison without a second thought and Neelix is like "Tuvok could you please just TRY it? Just try a little SIP of it PLEASE??" and Tuvok sighs and rolls his eyes and sniffs it before taking a sip and it turns out he loves it. Turns out it tasted good actually. And then after all that Neelix tries to talk to him over eggs (which he's again cooking fresh for him) and Tuvok tells him he doesn't wanna hear "the life history of his breakfast." Absolutely insufferable this man I would have burned his eggs on PURPOSE!!!!

[shhh-secret-time]

To be honest, stardew valley has me in such a chokehold. It always has, even before the 1.6.

In such a way that my brain wants to smash my hyperfixation into it. So late at night I'll be awake thinking of this stardew/south park mashup.

Call that bad boy Star Park AU.

But no brain! Bad! We already have too much going on! You have a Secret Soulmate AU. Fantasy AU, A Cowboy AU story staring Kenny that's still in the outline phase, and these one shots!

(Look at the tags to watch me descent into madness)

[found--family]

they couldn't let cesar and jesse return bc they would've taken one look at dean and cas interacting and known they had it bad for each other

[lilypadpanda]

You ever think about how, in KH3D, according to dialogue and the Flick Rush Minigame, Joshua not only brought the main gang to Traverse Town, but several Reapers as well.

And then apparently just...has them do The Reaper’s Game, complete with timers and missions, just because.

[forgotten-daydreamer]

doctors and nurses should be forced to work in retail before being allowed anywhere near patients

[nerice]

Oddly specific q but what is the situation with belle & the tracker in her? Does Faye install it to be able to track her down? Did Jumie install it (into every child) so Belle never gets lost? Can Faye control Belle with it?

Red Hurting Sun & Dream Game sound like such painful but also intense(good) chapters! And Faye seems like the most complex and evil character while also being hurt and having her reasons if that makes sense????? Anyway ily your shadowblogging bye <3

GOOD EVENING ANON DEAREST I CAN FINALLY ANSWER THIS !!!!!!! PRAY THAT MY WRIST HOLDS OUT

uh so. the tracker is important. the tracker is like /the most important/ as far as central plot mechanics are concerned and the last time i did a comprehensive writeup on it this happened.....

(with the other writing linked in that document full length is closer to 35k. rip) SO THIS ANSWER WILL BE ABRIDGED for all our sakes.

the tracker is what pulls every single book together, even if it features in some more prominently (nerice, dream game) than the others. by the time it concerns belle, it has long ceased its original function. the first time it turns up is back on nerice, where eliada helps the warlords build a tracker for reina bc he himself is also sulking that she keeps refusing 2 talk to him. bitch behavior <3 tldr is that the swords of a tracker (the person, that eliada is) are the only thing able to pierce a true ruler's skin (a/s mechanics, dw abt it) and so thru him they're able to engenieer a mechanical dragonfly that upon contact, burrows under the skin of reina's wrist (if you ever wondered where her scar comes from... :^)) this is also what, ultimately, causes her to split her soul in an attempt to get rid of it, which causes the moons to break and kickstarts the entire fucking verse saga. with the end of her world, the tracker becomes inert but reina keeps it for unwise sentimentality reasons (hands u meme abt it) w

in old plot, eliada petitioned to get his hands on it during one of their roa deals (bonus points bc jumie wld be around for that trade, even if eliada n reina only euphemistically talk abt it as 'the dragonfly' and she'd only see a small box change hands) but lately i've been more inclined to move that event into lhnh where reina, from her end, volunteers the tracker to make eliada talk abt the soulless (gray) bc it makes slightly more sense thematically for her to refuse all his trades until then. either way, the tracker is back in eliada's hands by the end of the azra war era.

bc the tracker was not simply tracking reina. eliada's entire quest is abt understanding the precise workings of true rulers, so, given the opportunity, he made the tracker also collect,, not quite her blood? smth more vague and metaphysical, refined through an inner process into something more, something more essential. [true ruler essence] for the sake of meta terminology. he cannot actually do anything with it in his current position but plans on analyzing it and comparing it to true rulers of a/s once he returns home. which is the entire problem bc he is stuck as long as the verse is broken [PLAYED URSELF. <3] which brings us to. him & faye thinking long and hard forever abt how to fix the moons so they can both go home. yippee

which is ofc how we get to belle. how we get to the entire daughter con situation (skipping over many messy timelines that preceded arriving at this final, working solution) which, in tldr terms, is this:

a vessel whose soul is the tracker. whose very existence is linked the essence of reina before the split, before the fall, an essence from before the moon core broke. an artificial child, created for the sole purpose of burning this essence back into the moon core and thereby repair it. so you have belle, who thinks herself a descendant, but really is just a dead dragonfly with true ruler dna walking. faye connects her to the moon core by forcing her to swallow the eternal souls (chess's eyes that gray so generously removed once upon a time. <3 wld say the only good deed he has ever done but this shit was part of what broke the entire machine in the first place, it just happens to conveniently hand faye a way to also put it back together) and really all that is left to do then is set belle on fire via angel theory & fuse her existence into the moon core. make her the conduit through which the entire machinery can begin to work as intended again. just that 7000/10 times belle breaks under the strain, the weight of the universe, leaving faye to do it all over again bc the theory is solid. it's the daughter that's wrong :^)

[benetnvsch]

so wild seeing ppl on my dash reblogging stuff here from ppl on twitter that ik ive blocked for legit reasons like,, ,,,,, im sweating,,,,,

[subternia]

to me a ""film bro"" has always been someone who willfully misinterprets movies like fight club or the matrix as these movies explicitly say something the complete opposite of what they pretend to understand but even then that term is so nebulous that there's much better ways to refer to anti intellectualism when it comes to movies.