#and while it's still emotionally neglectful and kids there are not alright

[chainsawcorazon]

my favorite thing about about the 90's young justice solos is that they catered towards three distinct audiences, and yet after all these years, the one that would have been LEAST likely to be projected into nowadays is now the MOST woobified out of the three.

tim: a story for white kids, by a white guy who hates poor people, and didn't really take itself OUT of that white-male-projective-state even after all these years. bonus note, now the gays can project into tim cuz timbo's finally out the closet, and chuck dixon wants to kill himself over it, but it's ok bc we like tim even tho we don't like chuck.

bart: a story initially about a time-displaced refugee whose narrative heavily mirrored a refugee's forced assimilation into a new culture WHILE also appealing to the adhd/autism crowd, which the writer was absolutely OK with because bart's story can be accepted by BOTH the refugee narrative enjoyers and the adhd/autism crowds without impinging on his narrative poignancy, plus mark waid actually loved bart and he loves that WE love bart. inshallah he will write his boy again.

kon: a story about teenagers who are being neglected, and so he's acting out every which way and partying it up because he was meant to appeal to the 90's teenage rage and show how easy it is for kids to get caught up with predators like knockout and tana because of the lack of structure and discipline in their lives, but when geoff decided to ignore nearly ten years of creator-run canon, we had to deal with his timkonnie dreams, and now geoff's leaving, so now we gotta deal with the yja nonsense and some lady's self-insert dreams going into a character whose writer is not only still alive, but actively on the bi!kon train but from the 90's crackhead era perspective. and HE'S the one most woobified.

it's absolutely facinating cuz you'd think kon would be the most hated out of the three bc of his issues with consent and the unhealthy ways he frames relationships, but instead it's BART who people hate the most! bart's being infantalized and discounted and used at a third-man-ship-prop, while tim's being rewarded for being an emotionally strugglesome white man who just came out of the closet, and it's not nearly as bad as how bart's getting his ass beat in the fandumb, but poor tim can't even date his high school homie in peace without someone crying about how he 'deserved' kon instead.

to think that the character with that many issues would be the MOST woobified character in the yj cast is insane, bc what are you even woobifying? his depersonalization? his lack of boundaries with women? his inability to read a room? the fact that nobody loves nor cares about him enough to protect him from the horrors of the world? the fact that he was a stellar example of a CSA survivor who didn't even KNOW he was a victim of CSA, and thus wasn't really able to understand the ramifications of his inappropriate behavior until years later when he forced himself into a masculine fold so he didn't fall into the trap of being like 'the old him' again?

kon's story was a story of self-hatred come to life in the most fantastical ways. he thinks it's ok to publicly date a grown woman other people are judging for dating a dumbass minor. he didn't know what a mother's love was, and had to witness it first hand with nanaue's mother. he thinks an emotionally unavailable and distant clone handler is his dad bc he doesn't KNOW anyone else who can fit into that mold. he thinks roxy's his sister but still has no problem sexualizing her in his head bc he thinks it's ok to find your older sister hot.

kon was the DEFINITION of the kids are not alright, nope, not at all, hell to the fuck no. geoff was the single biggest driver in stripping all the nuance from his character post-graduation day, but he not even here no more... what's the excuse in continuing to strip away at what makes kon, kon? i know dc's afraid to admit lois and clark looked the other way when a teenaged clone was dating an adult woman, but you woulda thought he woulda been a turnoff to the fandumb as well. he aint tho, so he suffers for it accordingly.

i can only hope karl kesel lands another contract after these new movies flop, so we can finally get a REAL follow-up to the 1994 solo. you could never make me hate that man's insane writing. justice for 1994 kon. if dc still had good writers, we coulda had a multi-year healing arc exposing how horrifying superheroing really is for people, and why clones deserve something to the equivalent of human rights. instead, he's doin fuckall and kissin m'gann. no shade to m'gann, she absolutely deserves more than the current caricature.

[hunter-sylvester]

I know you do character analysis, would you be alright elaborating about Hunter and his relationship with his parents? Everyone says he has mommy issues, but it looks like it could be a mixture of daddy issues as well.

I would fucking love to, Anon.

(Ao3 Character Analysis Series about Hunter)

I do think it’s very clear that he has mommy issues. From the small handful of references there are to her, it’s obvious. While he has clear on-screen issues with his father, he still keeps a picture of him and his dad on his bookshelf. His mother- however, is violently ripped from it. Something that can easily be read as a visual metaphor for how he feels about her absence from his life. Although I personally tend to write her as having been directly abusive which creates a slightly different whirlwind of issues, in either case she abandoned him. And we clearly see him display a fear of abandonment around Kevin. There’s a clear cause and effect there.

But I entirely agree that he also has daddy issues. It’s a noxious cocktail of neither parent being someone that understands him or knows how to make him feel at home. And it’s precisely that cocktail of issues that makes Hunter make so much sense to me as a character.

It’s not exactly my style to give fathers a lot of sympathy, but even without doing so, it's easy to see that everything Alan Sylvester does in canon shows he just has no idea what to do with Hunter. (Most notably when he literally gives up on parenting him in favor of dumping him in rehab).

He completely fumbles any weak attempts he does make at connecting with/parenting him and they all end in screaming matches.

“Sorry you’re just a little late with the whole ‘parenting’ thing” (when I tell you I feel that line)

Growing up with a parent (partially more, since his mother was around until 7th grade) present without anyone actually bothering to parent you, you end up growing crooked.

Can’t go any other way. Even if his parents were never mentioned, we’d know they were shitty parents based purely on Hunter’s issues.

In my mind, they’re both obviously neglectful. Evident both from the aforementioned quote as well as just the way that Hunter acts.

Each in their respective ways. His mother by literally removing herself from his life. His father by neglecting him emotionally, not hugging him, etc. (I'm assuming he never hugs Hunter based on the deeply awkward shoulder tap during the last scene of the film.) Also, this is a bit of a stretch based on vibes alone. But can you picture Alan cooking for Hunter? Can you picture them having dinner together? I can’t. It’s a bit of a headcanon but I personally believe Hunter has been making his own food for years. (note: this does not necessarily imply that he is a good cook)

Let’s also not forget that Hunter is just a seventeen year old boy. He is still a child (in canon). And a fucking troubled one at that.

One that likely grew up with nobody telling him it was ok to be him. No-one telling him he belonged. No-one showing him how to healthily handle his emotions. (This is one I blame heavily on the father.)

He had to figure everything out for himself. Reinvent the wheel at every step. Of course he’s gonna fuck up along the way. He’s just a kid.

Of course he freaks out when he thinks he’s losing Kevin, he’s already been shown that he can be discarded- and by one of the primary people that are supposed to be there for him.

Of course he’s a bit of a bitch about alcohol when he watches his father drink all the time and he would probably rather die than turn out like him.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Alan also contributed to Hunter’s inability to accept his sexuality. At the very lightest he’d be homophobic in that casual way dads are. The “I don’t care what they do behind closed doors” followed by the most homophobic ‘joke’ you can think of twenty minutes, if not seconds, later. But I wouldn't rule out more blatant queerphobia.

In any case, it’s a clear & constant signal that being queer is not something that’s acceptable for a Sylvester. And as much as Hunter fights his father, as much as I think he dreads being like him, he’s the only parent he has left at this point.

He still wants to be loved. He’s a kid. He needs a loving parent. Even if he, realistically, doesn’t really have one that’s worth appeasing.

Consciously, he’ll rebel. Subconsciously, he still looks up at his father and wants to be told he did well. He wants someone to be proud of him, he wants to be enough.

Call me a pessimist but I think at this point, even if Alan tried, the relationship is so laden with barbed wire that nothing is possibly getting through.

Anything would be too little & too fucking late.

Sorry that got a little fucking bleak...it's me, it's what happens lol Thank you for asking, Anon 🤘

[somer-writes]

The Heart of Hyrule Modern AU pt 1

Alright AU dump let's goooo

Let's get some character stuff down for the 3 grown ups (not including Malon)

Time

He's a retired adventurer/hero. He's actually been knighted by the crown but he only agreed as a favor to his old childhood friend, the crown princess Zelda. He's pretty well known as more myth than man for his monster slaying escapades.

Mysterious origins abound. No one except for Malon knows how old Time is and where he's *actually* from. He is in fact from the Kokiri Forest which is a common fairytale. His mother left him there while fleeing the civil war which ended a few years after his birth.

Able to sense magic. Uses it sometimes.

He's married to Malon. When Talon passed, Malon inherited Lon-Lon Ranch. Everything is in her name. He has a coffee mug that says 'Princess' on it as a joke. They also joke he married her for the horses. Lon-Lon Ranch is small, mostly managed by the two of them and Twilight.

Time's pretty reclusive. He doesn't like to go into town. There's rumors about him bc of it, but Malon throws hands for him.

Time and Malon "hired" Twilight as a ranch hand when he showed up on their doorstep with an old ad in the paper from when Talon still ran things. They couldn't just let a kid like him out of their sight and have essentially adopted him.

They also look after the others. Their home is a safe place for the younger ones to go when they need it. Also they pay them to help out with chores (esp during the summer).

Time has issues with chronic pain which is part of why he stopped going on royal errands. His back and knees are pretty rough.

He keeps out hummingbird feeders for both birds and fairies.

Caffeine addict. Always has a cup of coffee within 5 feet of his person. Malon buys his coffee mugs. They are all jokes at his expense.

His favorite food is milk. The colder the better.

Not a strong reader. Malon taught him how to read.

Warriors

Next oldest. He's 22, just slightly older than Twi.

He's a city boy. He left his family's primary home there to live in their summer house in town. It's a big manor and he lives there alone. He doesn't really like it much but he doesn't know what else to do with himself

Heir to a weapons development company that got its foothold in the war. wealthy upbringing. His dad's been married three times so Wars has a large amount of step and half siblings he's not close to. He himself is an "only" child. He does not get along with his father and doesn't know the rest of his family well.

He was in school for architecture but is taking a break bc it got to be too much for him. He works part time at the city office as a clerk.

Doesn't make friends easily, is used to getting picked on.

Emotionally neglected/abused as a child. Struggles with being too clingy when he makes a genuine bond with someone. Lots of feelings of insufficiency

Prolific dater for a while in high school. Cheated on his partners. Had one extremely toxic ex as a teenager (theres cw worthy stuff here so i wont mention it in this post) and has been put off on ever having any real relationships with anyone ever again.

Touch aversion bc of the aforementioned. Doesn't mind if it's Wind or Twi tho. Slowly warming up to the others.

He struggles to relate or says very ignorant things sometimes just bc of his privileged upbringing but he's doing his best to learn better.

Came up in private school. Had nannies until he was 14. Nowhere's ever really felt like home to him

Writes poetry and paints. Greatly enjoys romcoms.

Twilight

Next oldest at 21. He's from Ordon which is an occupied territory of Hyrule

High school dropout/teenage runaway. Has his GED.

Orphaned, found by Rusl when Rusl was out on a monster hunt. Raised by Rusl and Uli.

Ran away at 16 after fucking around with dark magic and finding out. Saw Some Shit. Still has nightmares. He's still in contact with Rusl and Uli and they know he's safe but he's doing some "soul searching" and so hasn't gone home.

The dark magic let him go to the spirit realm. He can turn into the wolf as a result (and has to bc he gets grouchy if he's Hylian for too long). Some of his keen hearing/smelling carries over. Can see spirits. Nobody knows yet.

Tried to make a living at first as a freelance monster hunter. Got his ass handed to him a few times. Eventually blew into town as a very hungry/sick 17-yo and wound up at Lon-Lon looking for work

He doesn't feel like he deserves Time and Malon's love but they care for him like he's their own kid. He's always working extra hard to try and make up for it.

Missing his left arm from the shoulder down. Lost it to the monster that attacked his village shortly before Rusl found him.

Does not like when people offer their help when it comes to his arm. He will let them know when he needs a hand (kek).

Extremely fond of and good with animals. Also really strong once he got healthy again. Very capable on horseback, adores cats.

When he can't be found at the creek or stables, he can be found sleeping in various places around the farm. Always has cats on/following him.

Reads a lot, draws too. Fishes often. Works on his truck with Malon and Four.

Looks up to Time, best bros forever with Wars, very close with Wild

pescatarian (only fish hes caught tho, never bought)

[iliketoydinosaurs]

Essay on Sam and Dean’s childhood

Heyyy here’s my essay on Sam and Dean’s childhood and how it affects the show. I wrote it for English class so it’s a little tedious. Edited for tumblr.

Sam never saw his childhood the way Dean did. In “Just My Imagination”(11x08), it’s shown that Sam had an imaginary friend because he was so alone all the time. In that episode we see the lines,

SAM. I was kind of a lonely kid, Dean. 

DEAN. You weren’t lonely, you had me!

This shows that while Dean had thought he had taken care of Sam, Sam never really saw it that way. This largely comes from the fact that though Dean physically took care of Sam, Sam was still emotionally neglected. In this episode we also see that both John and Dean are away on a hunt, so he was being physically neglected at times as well. Sam was Dean’s responsibility from a very young age, something John enforced heavily. Dean’s whole life was centered around his family and taking care of Sam, but Sam saw their family, particularly their father, as what it was: neglectful and abusive. Dean was too young to have the emotional tools to truly take care of another child, especially considering he was emotionally neglected himself. Though Sam liked Dean significantly more than their father, Sam’s neglect still caused him to resent Dean. When he grows up he understands more how his brother was also just a kid.

In “Dark Side of the Moon”(05x16) Dean gets mad at Sam because all of Sam’s memories are when Sam was away from John, Dean, and hunting. We see one of Dean’s memories with their mother, Mary, from when he was four. In the memory Mary and John had gotten in a fight, and Dean tells Mary that John loves her, and he loves her. When Sam sees this he says, “I just didn’t realize how long you’d been cleaning up Dad’s messes.” One of Dean’s most treasured memories is consoling his mother, and Sam sees it and instantly takes it as Dean’s first instance of apologizing for his dad’s behavior. It’s obvious why they view this memory so differently when you consider that Dean has been explaining away his father’s behavior his whole life, but Sam never had to. Sam grew up with a less rose-colored-glasses view of his family, that Dean never had the luxury of. Whether it was between Mary and John, Sam and John, John and himself, Dean had to be the peacekeeper. This was only exacerbated when Mary died, John telling Dean he had to protect Sam no matter what, living on the road with little contact outside of his father, and the isolation that comes from being on the run and having to keep something like monsters a secret. Dean had to adapt to be like his father, this is often shown by characters calling him “daddy’s blunt little instrument.” These two episodes showcase how differently they view their childhoods; Dean with nostalgia(even in situations he maybe shouldn’t), and Sam with hurt and cynicism. 

What’s interesting is that when John dies, they flip opinions on him. For the first time in his whole life, Dean can safely assess how he feels about his father. And he’s pissed. Sam on the other hand, ever the optimist, begins to regret fighting with their dad so much. 

Dean and Sam’s unhealthy relationship is also largely influenced by their childhood. Because of their upbringing, Dean is overly attached to his brother. And with John constantly telling Dean that his one job was to protect Sam, Dean quickly came to the conclusion that Sam’s life was more important than his own. While Dean is overly attached to Sam, Sam is never quite as clingy. This disconnect greatly affects the show and causes many fights. When Dean gets back from purgatory in season 8, he’s upset that Sam never looked for him. In season 9, Sam is about to die. Dean makes a deal with Gadreel/Ezekial to possess Sam and heal him. This inevitably goes sideways. In the episode “The Purge”(09x13) Sam shouts at Dean that Dean should’ve just let him die and we see,

DEAN. Alright, you want to be honest, if the situation was reversed, and I was dying, you’d do the same thing.

SAM. No Dean, I wouldn’t. Same circumstances, I wouldn’t. I’m heading to bed.

Not only does Sam directly tell Dean that he’s done with constantly bringing each other back from the dead, he’s dismissive and he leaves. 

This is a perfect example of their attachment styles, and how they differ. Dean has a fearful-avoidant attachment style, resulting in his massive fear of abandonment. Dean is terrified of getting close to people, especially non-hunters, as he fears it will end in death or pain, but Dean wants nothing more than to be loved. When monsters are trying to upset Dean, the first thing they do is use Sam (and others) to say Dean is a burden. This is also shown by how Dean processes emotions, by refusing to talk about it, until he has an angry outburst. After Castiel’s season 12 death, Dean says nothing about Cas’s death, but punches a door until his knuckles bleed when alone. This contrasts—and conflicts— with Sam’s avoidant attachment style. Sam withholds a lot of information from Dean, like in “After School Special”(04x13), it’s shown that in high school Sam was bullied and got into a fight, something he never told Dean or his dad. Sam has very few emotionally close relationships and he’s independent to a fault. Sam is more aware of this though, and more determined to have a normal life, so he tries many times to stop this behavior by getting in relationships, but his partners all die, betray him, or he leaves them, so by the end of the show he’s largely given up on normalcy. This is one of the reasons their relationship gets more unstable and codependent as the show goes on. Sam also has a tendency to bury his own feelings (especially when Cas dies) and deflects by trying to make Dean talk about his, which largely just ends in fights. Dean’s attachment style was shaped by not connecting to anyone outside his family. Sam’s was mostly shaped by not being cared for as a child.

And, of course, they were both shaped by John’s abuse. It would be pretty hard to dispute that John emotionally abused and neglected the both of them. And there’s many implications that he physically abused Dean (I will also point out that from my memory it’s never really implied that Sam was physically abused, so take that as you will. I could be missing something though). To name a few:

DEAN. Well, you don’t remember, do you? You ran away on my watch. I looked everywhere for you. I thought you were dead. And when Dad came home… (05x16)

DEAN. He'd be furious. That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn’t be proud of me, he’d tear me a new one. You’re not my dad. (01x22)

Anyways I could go on but I think I’m done for now. 

[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

Alright so apparently you all haven't heard of the magical tale that is "Unlikely Friends, Unlikely Fate" so buckle up

Before Sun, Moon, Bentley and Paxton, there was a FNaC AU Maddy made that is INSANELY canon divergent but here me out it's great

Draw the curtains, hoist the spotlight:

It's sometime supposedly around the nineties, and there's this kid named Roderick. Roderick is lonely. He is also a douche bag. But he has a brother named Vinnie that he loves very much.

Vinnie is a ray of sunshine that loves literally anything and everyone. He is the light of Roderick's life.

Roderick, however, has to raise Vinnie on his own as his actual father is out trying to get the ladies after his wife died (note: I THINK it was due to giving birth to Vinnie, but it's been a while so I can't remember.)

Overtime, Vincella and Roodbark encounter a cast of lovable characters:

Carl, a super extroverted, funny little guy who is the highlight of every conversation and also an idiot most days.

Cindy, a shy but sweet baker who is the twin sister of Carl.

Chester, an awkward but affable tall fella who loves the banjo.

Pedro, the very definition of Napoleon syndrome that also loves to cook and is super close friends with Chester (albeit, not at first).

Kate, probably Roderick's first actual friend who wasn't his brother, a good leader who tries her best.

Chris, a very blunt introvert who's highly focused on work and affectionately by Maddy's Discord friends called "Maddy's bitch".

And Brett, a very bulky, fit dude who has a close bond with Roderick and is important for his arc.

The most notable part about this story besides Freddy's and Candy's is that their arcs revolve around different types of abuse.

Cindy and Carl have a good blend of it, I don't exactly remember how are why but I THINK it had to do with the foster care system.

Chester was severely emotionally abused by his stepmother, who is in-turn one of the most unlikable pieces of garbage and I'm sure you'd all love her.

Pedro was physically abused by his drunk father.

Kate and Brett aren't necessarily TORMENTED per se, more or less Kate has overbearing parents and Brett has over controlling parents. Obviously still terrible but quite tame in comparison.

Chris was horribly neglected by two arguing parents.

And Roderick, as previously mentioned, is victim to a lesser known type of abuse called "parentification"; in which a child has to raise their sibling/parent. Of course, this means Vinnie doesn't really suffer from too bad of a childhood, although the two brothers DO get bullied rather harshly at Freddy's.

Now you may be wondering: Cool, but what's the climax?

Obviously, with all the mentions of "Freddy's" and "Candy's", you can see where this is going.

I don't think Maddy wants me to spoil the Freddy's incident, but it might be swell to know that the cast all slowly dies one by one from a certain SOMEONE who also happens to be my favorite character, and each possess the animatronics most similar to their name (Kate = CAT, Roderick = RAT, Pedro = Penguin, Carl = Candy, Chester = (you'll never guess this one) Chester).

There's also more to the story in the sense that there are Monster animatronics (which have AWESOME designs btw), and my favorite rage-inducing group, the New animatronics (Mouse is the only thing that would get me to punt a child).

But this is just a summary so you understand Maddy's "Unlikely Friends" characters. I will take my bow now and leave the man of the hour in charge.

[expired-bat]

Any one number of your choosing for Milo and each of those fuck ass rabid-infested lil kids for the Personal Oc Asks please😁

5. What's their relationship like with their parents?

Milo

milo is such a mama's girl. bless mama diana. she gets her vampire-ness from her and a huge mentor for her life. she's taught her everything she's needed in life and she can't live without her.

surprise surprise, milo hates her dad, a fat bastard named jorge. a useless puny human whose gave her mom and siblings hell throughout the years. she's cut contact from him since she was 18 and has zero regrets about it ever since. if she ever sees him again??????????? watch the fuck out.

Meilin

meimei hates both of her parents with passion. robert because he inflicted any kind of abuse on her and her little sister, and ophelia because she was emotionally absent and later abandoned her and lulu. she always says that she doesn't need a parent in her life (bffr)

Chris

another parent hater weewoooooo. religious trauma is huge factor for this, as well as lack of mental health support and just them telling him that he's making all of these hallucinations up for attention, telling him he's r-slur, etc. fuck minyeong and fuck gunwoo.

Jayu

ilsung and eunseo were great raising two sons the best they can under a repressive regime. too bad he witnessed his dad starve to death in a camp and his mom taken away from soldiers while entering the south korean border. he misses his parents and kwangdae-hyeung so much.

Ryan

congrats to fujio yoshida for being dad of the year! ryan's old man is supportive of how his son is, though is extremely critical for him doing the nasty. he just wants his son to settle down with someone and live the rest of his life comfortably.

Tony

his parents had an on-and-off relationship, so he gets to see one of them every other week if possible. his mom was super harsh but... a loving harsh??? jasmine aint no one to play with i tell you. she was alright up until her homophobia showed up and disowned her son. darius, however, is pretty problematic. he often neglected his son to the point where granni had to take care of little tony most of the time. he's also openly homophobic and just problematic in general. he did not take well when he found out his son was gay.

June

their relationship with their parents was strained from the start.

richard is responsible for naming his "son," juniper. never allow dads naming their children gang. he expected june to inherit his entrepreneur business in the future.

amy was a bit more "parental" (???) than her ex-husband, but she was still emotionally absent. she's an example of a tiger mom, fueling june's expectations on their educations and extracurriculars. she only gives june affection if they do something she accepts.

poor june-bug goes dark whenever someone asks them about their parents and shuts themselves off.

Eddie

eddie had a good relationship with his parents when he was little, up until philip died of an over dose. irene blamed her own son for the death of his father and her life later went downhill. his grandparents, russell and mary, had to take him in due to the intense neglect his mother was giving him. he thinks his grandparents more of his parents and loves them to death. he hasn't heard of his mom for years and does not care about her whereabouts.

[itsagrimm]

The Tale of the Girl and the Night Dragon

Thrawn tells Che'ri a fairy tale. Yes, he does the voices.

CN: Che’ri mentions her isolated childhood and previous (emotionally neglectful?) caretakers. Also, this is based on the german original fairy tale of red riding hood and that story has themes of murder and sexual assault in it. obviously most kids don't read it that way but if it comes across to you as an adult that's no coincidence and the source material is peaking through. you are herby warned.

2,7 k words

Che’ri starred out of the viewport of the ship.

Stars, planets, moons… It was all the same to her. As long as she could remember she had seen the lights of space. All of her momishes had claimed that space was beautiful, that the abyss was terrifying, that it was a spectacular sight she should appreciate and cherish every chance she got.

The girl yawned, unimpressed by the panorama.

It had been weeks since she and Thrawn had gotten here. Senior Captain Thrawn had asked her to go on a mission to lesser space. And she had been terrified and excited to go on a real mission without a warship.

But now all it turned out to be a lot of sitting and waiting. Where was her promised mission? Where was the action? The only thing she had gotten so far were reading tasks, flight lessons and a new set of color markers to draw with.

She leaned back in the pilot's chair, her feet dangling from the height. It was Che’ri’s task to watch the cockpit while the senior captain worked out. It was supposed to teach her something like patience. But it felt like a pointless chore considering that they just could use the autopilot. A very adult chore. A very boring chore.

The door to the little room hissed open and senior Captain Thrawn strode in.

“Good evening, navigator Che’ri.”, he greeted formally as if they hadn’t constantly seen each other the past weeks.

“Hello” she called back.

“Thank you for doing guard duty and allowing me to attend to my other duties.” Thrawn continued as he sat down in the co-pilot's seat.

“It’s okay.”, Che’ri said, “I don’t mind. It’s no difference if I sit here or somewhere else on the ship.”

The senior captain eyed her thoughtfully. It was one of those gazes most adults used on her before saying something like ‘go to bed’ or ‘sit up straight’ or ‘watch your tongue, young navigator’. But the senior captain just looked at her as if he needed to solve a particularly hard math question before opening his mouth.

“You are bored.”

She shrugged and turned to the viewport again. Boredom was a constant. She was used to it.

“Would you like to hear a story to pass the time, navigator Che’ri?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t want any more reading exercises. I already did mine for today.”

“Pardon, I misspoke ” The captain continued “I mean would you like to be told a story? I liked to listen to stories when I was a youngling. Maybe that would elevate your boredom?”

Che’ri’s head whipped around in surprise.

A story?

The momishes hardly ever read her tales and even Thalias was so busy that she only managed once to sit down for a bedtime story.

Her head spun at the prospect of getting entertained by the senior captain like that. And it downright spiraled at the thought of a past senior captain Thrawn youngling. Che’ri could not imagine the adult man before her being a child at all.

But she could imagine him as a storyteller.

Enthusiastically she nodded.

“Alright, navigator. Grab yourself some light cocoa and wait for me in the lounge. Let me just check the instruments and engage the autopilot beforehand.”

Che’ri jumped off the seat and fought the urge to run through the ship.

“That’s not proper behavior for a navigator” she remembered one of the especially preachy momishes. A strange instruction now that Che’ri considered it. She wouldn’t be a navigator forever and yet she hardly saw any of the adults and not-navigators run on ship. Still, better to stick with that instead of compromising the chance of getting the promised story.

In the kitchen she pushed one of the magnetized stools to the cabinet to climb up and get the powdered cocoa for kids. The senior captain had packed the treat just for her. It was a lighter sweeter version of the bitter cocoa leaves the adults used for their drinks. The colorful package with birds on it and lot’s of kids smiling at her as if inviting her to play with them. She would never do such a thing. Not unless she stopped being a navigator.

The thought both terrified and pleased her.

Quickly, she climbed back down, got herself a cup, stirred the powder in - a bit more than necessary to make it extra sweet - and got hot water from the dispenser machine before strolling to the lounge.

Thrawn was already there. Sitting on one of the couches. No questis in hand. How was he supposed to read the story out to her?

Unsure she took a seat.

Was this another lesson instead? Not a tale?

“Are you sitting comfortably?”, the captain asked.

She shuffled a bit around and placed the hot drink on the table before her and nodded.

“Alright, let me tell you my favorite story when I was a child.”

“You were a child once?”, Che’ri asked, surprised by her own boldness. That’s it, she had lost her chance to get a story for being so audacious.

Thrawn’s eyes twinkled with humor instead of anger for her interruption like most of the adults had done.

“Yes. I was a child once too”, he replied.

“When was that?”

“Not as long ago as you might think”, The unspoken laughter resonating in his words, “For me those childhood memories on Naporar are but a blink away even if that was decades ago. It might not make sense to you right now but one day you might think about this moment and understand. Shall we continue?”

“Yes.” Che’ri said, not understanding what the old man ment but eased by Thrawn's reaction.

"Alright. Interrupt me about anything you don’t understand. Until then lean back and close your eyes if you want. Let’s see…” Thrawn's voice became the only thing she thought about as she closed her eyes. He really was about to tell her a story! By himself! 

“There once was a little girl who lived with her blood family in a forest. She-”

“What’s a forest, captain?”, Che’ri squeaked, unhappy about having to interrupt so soon.

He paused.

“Do you know what a tree is?”

“Yes. I have seen one in the atmosphere chamber of the springhawk. It’s a small little thing with a hard stem and lilac soft things growing on its top.”

“Yes, now imagine this tree tall like the ship.”

She tried.

“And now imagine many more of those tall trees growing together in one area, spanning over your head with their branches and moving with the wind. Animals live there too. Like the ones described in your reading exercise. Birds live up in the branches and build their nests there. Ground lions dig little hollows to sleep between the tree's roots. And night dragons stalk prey through the thick lush leaves and stems.”

Che’ri tried to see it all before her like she saw with third eye. It sounded magical, beautiful and terrifying. Like space.

“Our story is about a girl like you, living in a forest like that.” Thrawn continued, “One day she is asked to bring her elder some fresh black cheese bites and a bottle of cromas nectar. She packs her bag and leaves the house to walk through the forest to the elders house.”

“On her own?”, Che’ri wonders out loud. She could not remember being alone anywhere outside. Everytime she had been, it was just short stops on military fields or space ports with a momish or officer around.

“Yes, on her own.” Thrawn assures. “Remember, she is a girl like you capable of going on missions. She is careful and clever. Her family trusts her with the task.”

Thrawn pauses before continuing.

“So the girl takes her bag with the foodstuff, grabs her velvet coat against the cold - the forest is cold and soon the first snows will fall - and leaves the house.”

Che’ri nodds. She knows of snow, she has seen snow covered Csilla from space.

“As she walks the road through the forest, she sees flowers and leaves the road to pick them for her elder. Her caretakers had told her not to leave the road to stay safe. But the girl forgot. And those pretty flowers are so distracting. So she walks off the road.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes, Che’ri. As the little girl walks off the road, deep into the forest to collect her flowers, a night dragon appears.”

She gasped. She had seen pictures of night dragons. Terrifying big creatures with claws, teeth and dark furr to stalk for prey through the cold csilla night.

“The night dragon spotts the girl and thinks to itself ‘what a delicious little girl I could eat. But she has a bag with food with her. I can smell it. Maybe she can lead me to more prey.’ And so he steps out of the shadows of the trees and calls out to the girl ‘hey, girl where are you going to?’”

“Night dragons can talk?”, Che’ri inquires. Maybe she hadn’t read the right text yet to know about that.

“Only in stories.” Thrawn explains. “So the night dragon asks her where she goes and the girl answers him for she had never any reason not to trust anyone ‘To my elder deep in the forest right next to the 3 big trees just a click away from here to bring her black cheese bites and cromas nectar. The elder is sick and I’m bringing her treats so she can get well soon again’.”

“Why is she telling the night dragon about that? That’s dangerous!”, Che'ri cries out while unconsciously grabbing a pillow to hold onto. She opens her eyes and looks at Thrawn. “This is a scary story! My momishes never told me that one.”

The captain smiles mysteriously.

“Don’t worry, Che’ri. The girl is a girl like you. I would never allow you or a girl like you to be hurt. Not even in my stories. Patience.”

Che’ri squeezed the pillow in her arms before leaning back again and closing her eyes.

“Go on.” she ordered impatiently before adding a more appropriate, “Please, captain.”

“The night dragon is very happy about the news. ‘Perfect. A helpless elder AND a little girl I can eat’, he thinks to himself, ‘I will have the elder first and then finish with the sweet meat of the girl later’. And so he leaves the little girl and runs to the house of the elder. There, he knocks at the door and enters the house where he finds the sick elder and devours the sick elder in one piece.”

Thrawn pauses as if expecting Che’ri to object before continuing with a deep and dramatic voice. She squeezed her pillow expectantly, holding her breath.

“Meanwhile the little girl had collected all the flowers she needed and made her way to the house of the elder. There, she found the door open. She called into the house for her elder and a strange voice answered her. Confused, the girl stepped into the house and found her elder in the sickbed. But it was a strange sight. ‘Elder, dear elder,’ the trustful girl cried, ‘It’s good to see you. But tell me elder, why do you have such big ears?’”

Che’ri squeezed her pillow.

“‘It’s so I can hear better, young one.’”

Che’ri opened her eyes and sat up expectantly.

“‘Elder, dear elder, why do you have such big eyes?”

Che’ri opened her mouth in protest only to keep silent.

“‘So I can see you better, young one.’”

Che’ri narrowed her eyes at Thrawn.

“‘Elder, dear elder, Why do you have such big teeth?’”

Thrawn’s voice rose to the growl of the night dragon: “‘It’s so I can eat-”

“NOOOOOO!”

Che’ri jumped up from her seat, nearly knocking over the cup in front of her.

“NO!”, she repeated, “It’s the night dragon and it’s about to eat her! She is supposed to be cleverer than this!”

Thrawn grinned at her as if he had asked her a trick question she had failed to recognize it.

“As the night dragon rose from the sickbed of the elder, dressed in the elders clothes and costumed like a chiss, the clever girl threw her bag at the night dragon right into his face and ran out of the house. She had seen through the night dragons schemes”, the captain finished with a triumphant voice.

“What?!”

“Of course the girl recognized the camouflaged enemy. What did you think would happen to her?”

“Oh.”

Che’ri sat down on the couch again, all the tension leaving her body, before grabbing her cup and sipping at her drink.

“Alright, captain. But that can’t be the end of the story, right?”

“Right. Are you ready for me to continue?”

Che’ri grimaced before putting her cup down again and leaning back while grabbing her pillow to hold.

“The girl escaped the terrifying night dragon”, Thrawn’s voice was now light and excited as if he too ran down the forest road, “‘Oh no, I trusted a stranger and told the night dragon about the elder and now I need to find a way to save her.’ the girl thought to herself as she ran through the forest.”

“The girl shouldn’t have told the night dragon about the vulnerable elder from the beginning.”, Che’ri judged bitterly.

“Yes, she made a mistake but those things can happen. It’s fine. And she never had reason to question someone's motives before. Most people are kind.”

Che’ri huffed but stayed silent.

“The girl ran and ran in the hopes of finding help for her elder. And help she found. A hunter crossed paths with her. Quickly she told him about the night dragon who ate her elder and the hunter agreed to help. Together the girl and the hunter traveled to the house of the elder in the hopes of finding the night dragon there.”

“The night dragon would be an idiot to stay on scene after the girl escaped.”, commented Che’ri drily.

“The night dragon was deep asleep and snoring with his full belly in the elders bed”, Thrawn continued.

“The night dragon isn’t too clever either.”

Thrawn paused. “You will make a fine tactician one day, Che’ri. Those were my thoughts as a kid too. Anyway-”

Che’ri didn’t dare to answer. It was too big of a thought to consider she could be someone like Thrawn one day. Someone as clever who could command a ship and know so many things like forest and fairy tales. Silently, she listened as the captain finished.

“-the girl and the hunter find the night dragon in deep slumber. They decide to cut open the night dragon to rescue the elder from the beast's belly as the night dragon swallowed the elder in one bite. Quickly, the hunter takes a scissor to cut the dragon and the elder emerges from the beast's guts. To teach the night dragon a lesson the little girl grabs a few stones from the outside, places them in the night dragon’s belly before sewing the beast back together. Then the hunter, the elder and the girl wait and as the night dragon wakes up from its digestive sleep. Scared from the hunter it tries to run away from the armed hunter. But the stones in the beast's belly slow the dragon down and so finally the night dragon is killed and punished for its crimes. The end.”

Che’ri sits up and puts away her pillow.

“Did they really tell you that as a kid?”

“They did.”, the captain’s voice sounds surprised. As if he had told her the most normal thing and she had refused to believe it.

For a moment they sat in silence. Che’ri listened to the humming of the ship's machines and sipped her now mildly warm cup of sweetened cocoa, thinking about the story.

“Was it too scary?”, the captain broke the quiet with a carefully inquiring voice.

She considered it. It was the bloodiest, weirdest story she had ever been told. But she hadn’t felt scared. Outraged maybe by the confusing actions of the well-meaning girl and the hungry night dragon. But Thrawn had assured her that in his stories little girls were fine and safe. And he listened to all her questions and comments without getting annoyed. So no, she hadn’t been scared. And she wanted more stories like that. She wanted the captain to keep telling her about things she didn’t know of yet.

“No”, she answered, “Can I have another one please?”

Thrawn smiled.

“Of course. Are you comfortable? Good. Let me tell you the story of a pair of siblings who got lost in the wilderness and found a house made out of meat-stripped fruit squares.”

[thegeminisage]

wait go on i unironically want your thoughts on john calling the car vs dean saying "she"

okay.

firstly, we are discussing the tags on this post

secondly, i want everybody to know that this meta is the reason i ended up cracking open john winchester’s journal last night and became patient zero for this whole damn website spiraling about dean killing dead gay nuns. it’s all because of this! this is why we’re here today! stupid car pronoun meta!

anyway.

this is jumping off the idea that the car is not just an extension of dean’s soul but his body and hhhhholy fuck when did that get that many notes. alright! anyway to recap: the car is an extension of dean - he lashes out at her in his moment of ultimate self-loathing (2.01), she becomes dirty and neglected when dean is in emotional turmoil (1.21, 13.01), she’s damaged when he’s hurt (in 2.01, in 5.22, just to name a couple of the most iconic examples), she was kept under a tarp (shroud!) during the year dean was emotionally dead (season 5/6 timeskip) and after dean ACTUALLY died for good in the accursed finale (she even showed up in heaven because obviously she’d go wherever he did), he is able to kill monsters with her, making her body a weapon just like his is (11.04), she and dean even get stolen/kidnapped at the same time (also 11.04). she’s full of personalization and personal items - sam and dean carved their initials into her, the legos and the toy soldier in the ashtray - this is akin to dean wearing sam’s amulet and his father’s jacket. he’s picky about who drives her (because there are a very limited number of people he trusts with his physical safety), he knows her inside and out the way one knows themselves, etc. 

dean also frequently refers to the car as both his only worldly possession and his home - she gives him a place to sleep, eat, and fuck when there’s nowhere else available. she gives him shelter in a world where there is none, privacy in a life that affords very little personal space.

dean, for the above reasons and more, treats the car like a person. he refers to her as “she” (almost exclusively - he used “it” when convincing a young john to buy her during 4.03, and there might be some early season examples i’m forgetting, but for the most part his pronoun usage is solid), he takes care of her better than he takes care of himself, devoting the kind of time and effort to her upkeep that he only devotes to family. she’s the woman of the family, so to speak, kind of the way dean is - they’re both acting as the stand-in for the missing mary, and he cherishes and values her. (the way a healthy individual might value themselves and their own physical well-being, if they didn’t have dean’s self-loathing attached.)

john, on the other hand, calls the car “it.” which isn’t really that weird by itself because most people use it pronouns for cars (sam calls the car an it too, it’s not necessarily an indicator of anything malevolent), except for the fact that john is a mechanic. much like a sailor is more likely to call a boat “she,” you’d think a mechanic would be similarly inclined to humanizing cars. considering that john was the one who TAUGHT dean how to care for a car, you’d think dean’s usage of “she” was yet another learned behavior, along with dean’s jacket and music and hypermasculinity. 

but john never refers to the car as “she,” only “it.” john may place some emotional value on the car, just the way he places some emotional value on dean, but NOTHING comes before his quest to avenge mary. (if you were wondering, this is what sam was doing while dean was killing dead gay nuns.)

the car is important, but her biggest importance lies not in her being part of the family, but in her being part of the hunt. she’s a tool, a blunt instrument, just like dean. john uses her to get places and cart his kids around the country and sleep when he has nowhere else to go. 

a good example of how john only sorta-kinda values the car can be found in his journal entry for dean’s 18th birthday:

john wanted to give dean SOMETHING, and while he was reluctant to part with the car (“i’ll still be driving it”), but when push came to shove and he couldn’t find anything else, she did just fine in a pinch. 

could you imagine dean EVER giving away his car? every time he has, it’s been prior to his own death, or what he thought would be his death. and aside from the times when no family was around (2.10 comes to mind), she was always given to a member of his family, blood or otherwise - usually sam, who dean knows best and trusts above all others.

since the car is dean’s body, you can pretty directly compare this to john holding dean’s own physical freedom and autonomy over his head well after he reaches the age of traditional adulthood. that john only truly let dean be in charge or the car and keep it for himself once john ABANDONED him speaks more to john’s interest in controlling his tools than it does to him wanting to do something kind for dean.

the car is dean, and dean is the car. for dean, this means she is the only way he is able to take care of and love himself, even if in a very roundabout way. for john, that means caring a little - but not caring about anything more than mary. in the end, everything, even dean’s own humanity, comes second to revenge. no matter how perfect and powerful your tools and weapons are, no matter how much you may care about them, they’re made to be used - and, when they’ve outlived their usefulness, to be discarded.

[spn masterpost]

[nataliaphantomhivesblog]

In the end of it all, Monaca Towa was still a child.

To start this off, this isn't my usual Black Butler posts but ive been meaning to talk about Danganronpa for a hot minute, so please bear with me! Second, this is solely my opinion and before anyone wants to attack me please read thoroughly first. Thank you:)

(Spoiler warning for Danganronpa: Ultra Despair Girls and Danganronpa 3)

Also, before we dive in I'm going to list some trigger warnings:

Physcological abuse

Physical abuse

Manipulation

P*dophillia

Suicide attempt

Violence (?)

Childhood trauma

Please take care and read at your own risk<3

Hello there Danganronpa fandom! Today I will be talking about Monaca Towa (as stated in the title) and how people often minimize her trauma and sometimes forget the fact that shes still a child who got heavily manipulated by Junko too.

Monaca is seemingly very amiable and caring, because of her charming personality, all of the Warriors of Hope love her and try their best to keep her happy and go along with what she wants. However, it's slowly revealed that she is actually manipulative and cunning behind her friendly facade.

Monoca is a character that is cruel, manipulative, and extremly unhinged. Many of her actions cannot be excused or justified, but you can understand where she's coming from.

Monaca's Backstory:

She was born an unwanted child by both her father and her mother. Monaca's mother was supposed to take care of her but instead abandoned the child soon after her birth. Because of all her actions, Monaca saw her mother as a completely selfish and pathetic person. Monaca's father thought of giving her to an orphanage but instead took her into his family.

However, Monaca was always unwanted and everyone else felt uncomfortable around her. Every time Monaca smiled or joked, the others looked at her coldly, as if she didn't deserve to laugh. Every time she spoke, the others turned silent. His older-half brother thought of her as an alien, not part of the family.

She was also physically abused to the point that she pretended to be seriously wounded for them to stop as a result.

Monaca also attended Hope's Peak Elementary School and was part of the "trouble-makers class" along with Nagisa, Masaru, Jataro, and Kotoko.

Along with her fellow abused classmates, she planned a group suicide; however, Monaca never had any plans to commit suicide in the first place and was planning to let the others die as a prank.

The group suicide was stopped by Junko, who took the kids in and manipulated them by treating them with kindness and love.

Monaca then helped Junko mass produce Monokumas for the Tragedy by using her position as a representative of the Towa Group.

She lied to her father and the other adults in order to produce the Monokumas, telling them that she wanted to create futuristic robots that could be domestic helpers and emergency aid workers.

Due to her separation from the family and her genius, her family decided to give her leg room to do what she wanted as long as she brought in profits to the company, and didn't delve too deeply into her plans.

Things to keep in mind about Monoca's backstory:

She was emotionally and physically abused from a very young age.

She started to pretend to be paraplegic because she was finally treated with some kindness and she could have more control over people.

She convinced Nagisa, Jataro, Kotoko and Masaru to commit suicide.

Out of all the Warriros of Hope, Junko took the most intrest in Monoca due to her position, meaning that she was the one who got used and manipulated the most.

How Monoca's mindset works:

The moment she got physically abused to the point that she had to fake her injuries to make her family feel bad was the moment she learned that through sympathy from others comes power. Due to her families neglection and abuse, she started to quickly pick up on things in which benefited her yet hurt others.

She started to use manipulative tactics on her family to gain control over them. She then started implicating these tactics with the Warriors of Hope.

When Junko got into the picture, everything changed for the worst. Junko was the only person in Monaca's life who showed her affection. Even though deep down Monaca knew Junko only cared for her as a means to use her robotics genius for the Tragedy, Monaca didn't care, and happily helped out Junko with her plans if it meant being loved and appreciated in return. At the heart of it, despite all her horrific acts, that's a very child-like thing to do, right? So when Junko dies, Monaca's entire reason for living basically disappears.

AI Junko via Kurokuma may have planted the idea of a successor in her head, but in Monaca's mind it's a way to get her big sis back, and very specifically chooses to mold Komaru into becoming Junko's successor. That's for a big reason, Monaca doesn't want to become Junko, I'd say she actually just wanted her big sister back who would love and appreciate her again, and hence tried to make someone else take on that role initially. Once again, that's the mindset of a child.

Monaca's relationship with the Warriors of Hope:

The Warriors of Hope are a group of children who are extremely resentful and hateful of adults, regardless of whether or not they were involved in their rough paths. 

We all know that the Warriros of Hope are extememly tramutized kids. Masaru had alcoholic parents who physically abused him, Jataro was physcologically abused to the point he bealived he was so ugly that if anyone saw his "repulsive" face they would die, Kotoko was r*ped multiple times by disgusting p*dophilic men (not to mention, Monaca's brother was attracted to her), and last but not least we have Nagisa who had pressuring parents who wanted to raise him as the child prodigy and expirimented on him constantly.

Monaca used the Warriros of Hope's trauma against them, manipulating them to the point were they had to do her bidding completly.

As much as I hate to say it, Monaca truly saw them as pawns. Although there are some instances where she openly declares her care for the Warriors of Hope, it's likely she does that as a form of emotional manipulation.

If anything, she probably did see them as equal in the beginning but then when she started to gain control over her own family, she started to do the same with the Warriors of Hope as a way to protect herself from getting hurt, then again this is my baseless assumption.

Her dynamic with Nagito:

Monaca was amused by Nagito's strange behavior and contradicting beliefs and appeared to be somewhat annoyed with him at the times. However, the two appeared to at least seemingly respect each other in some way, as they treated each other somewhat formally as allies.

Her dynamic with Nagito is one of the most intresting ones. Obviously I think that her being rasied by Nagito was potentially a dangerous thing, considering Nagito's goal was for Monaca to become Enoshima's successor. Monaca seemed to agree with this goal, but Nagito's constant rambling about hope and despair made Monaca bored and feel embarrassed about the whole thing.

She claims he made her an adult in a way, as she grew up in the mental sense and became more cynical and apathetic, not really caring about anything.

In the end, Monaca found Nagito creepy and annoying, but she also appeared to get closer to him during their time together, while originally calling him just "Mister Servant" in UDG, she later refers to him as "Big Bro" in Danganronpa 3. I do think their dynamic was sort of soft and I would've loved to have seen more of it. Honestly the concept of Nagito being a soft brother to Monaca warms my heart, and the wasted potential will forever anger me.

(If any Danganronpa fanfic writer or any writer in general is reading this post: if u could be so kind and do a PLATONIC Nagito and Monaca prompt and tag me in it, I would love you forever!!)

My opinion on Monaca:

I think that Monaca was a very well-written character who deserved more than what she got in the end of Danganronpa 3. She was abused, mistreated and belittled by her family. If anything, I see her as a completely misguided little girl. If she actually had a positive authoritative influence in her life, she wouldn't have turned astray.

A lot of people disregard Monaca's trauma and forget that at the end of the day, Monaca was a child who the moment she was born, the people who were supposed to love her were unwelcoming.

Don't get me wrong though, there is no way in hell I will ever justify or condone the things Monaca has done. If anything, I just think that she alongside the rest of the Warriors of Hope should've been properly taken care of.

Also, if you dislike/hate Monaca thats 100% valid! She did a lot of inexcusable things and its alright to hate on her. I personally love her character but I know she is not everyones cup of tea.

If you read all the way, I'm actually surprised! Thank you and I hope you enjoyed<333

[electroniccollectiondonut]

Turns out when I said "later post" in the tags of my last post in meant immediately. SO here are my unabridged, unorganized thoughts on the Thelyss bros. Under the cut because I have so much to say about these two and it's a crime that their relationship is portrayed so little in fanfic.

First of all I think they're very close in age. like Irish twins close (Irish twins is when two siblings are born within 12 months or less of each other), or at least the elvish equivalent. Basically Verin was an accident baby while Essek was still in a cradle.

Verin is a paladin of the Luxon for several reasons. Reason 1: Echo Knight is a cool af class but I already know the details for paladin. Reason 2: I think it's funny to imagine Essek offering to teach him this cool new spell he invented and Verin is just like nah I already got this. Reason 3: I'm in love with the idea of the juxtaposition between Essek, who thinks the Luxon as a religion is absolute bullshit, and Verin, who has faith enough to draw his magic from it.

Actually a lot of what gets me about these two is the differences between them. They're different in almost every way but they still care about each other over just about anyone else.

Specifically Verin's paladin oath is the Oath of the Watcher. I think he also has some levels in Horizon Walker ranger because those two subcalsses are perfect for the commander of Bazzoxan.

Their childhood was not the best. Based on how much of myself I can see in him in canon and how much of my younger sibling I see in what little we have of Verin, I'm gonna make an educated guess and say Deirta was emotionally and mentally abusive and somewhat neglectful at best and somewhat physically abusive at worst. They are both very aware that she's not a good parent. They love her anyway, and it tears them up inside.

WOW typing that out makes me feel vulnerable as hell don't you love it when you can project onto a character so much that you give them all of your exact mommy issues.

Verin, while canonically the himbo of the family, is only the himbo in a relative sense. He's very athletic, has a high emotional intelligence, is not as smart as the people surrounding him, and has very few ambitions, be they political or otherwise.

However. Not as smart as Essek "23 INT" Thelyss is very very different from being dumb. Verin is a brilliant strategist and he's far from stupid in other respects. If I was making up stats I'd put his INT at 14, which is still above average (average being 10-11).

Now, about that emotional intelligence: we know Essek does great in a political setting but flounders in friendly social interaction. Verin does not have the same problem. He does alright in political situations, but he's amazing with people. He knows all of his soldiers by name and assignment and he knows the important things in his ranking officers' lives and his second-in-command's kids call him uncle.

Essek is good with people too, but in the lying and manipulating them sense moreso than the caring and talking to them sense. (if we're talking stats, Verin's base CHA is at probably an 18 to Essek's 15 but Essek has proficiency in deception and persuasion)

I LIKE TO KNOW CHARACTERS STATS OKAY

Their dad is.... a whole can of worms that they mostly just don't talk about. They're mostly past that at this point. Or at least they pretend to be.

If (aka when) their father gets reborn and finishes anamnesis, they're both going to be extremely fucked up over it.

When Essek got himself reassigned to Eiselcross, Verin did too. He'll be damned if his brother is going to go to a freaky arctic research base by himself. That's why the soldier the M9 talk to in 131 says Essek instead of the Shadowhand.

Speaking of Shadowhand, Verin thinks Essek's job is sketchy as fuck but he's been not saying anything about it for like 20 years and he's not about to start now. Conversely, Essek thinks Verin's job sounds fucking terrifying, but he's not going to say anything either.

Essek came up with the floating partially because Verin got taller than him, except that he didn't expect Verin to keep growing so Verin is still taller. He's a solid five foot ten whereas Essek is five foot six floating and five foot two standing.

They're codependent both because of the traumatic environment they were raised in and because I think codependent sibling headcanons are the shit.

Okay thats.... enough for now I think? I have many more headcanons but I need to go to bed now and if I put this in my drafts I'll forget all about it so

[barbara-gordons-glasses]

Alright, since I can’t sleep and I’m bored, I’m going to list a few things that I hate about Tony Stark/RDJ, and his “fans”. If youre a Tony/RDJ fan pls ignore this.

Tony Stark made weapons for the military and only stopped because he was nearly killed and no

It wasn’t because he “felt bad” for those that were actually being harmed by the weapons. It was for his personal benefit

He constantly flirts with and messes with women while dating pepper

In the first IM movie, he made a transphobic joke and in an interview for his Sherlock movie, made a joke about cross-dressing

In AOU he made a rape joke, saying that if he ends up ruling Asgard, he’d reinstall pre minocta (or however you spell it)

He made Ultron, and before you start with the whole “B-b-but Wanda mind raped him!”

Firstly, wtf is mind rape? Really? For anyone who says mind rape y’all need therapy—maybe more so than Wanda

Anyways, he made Ultron and in civil war, had the A U D A C I T Y to say “we need to be put in place” as if it was the avenger’s fault that he created Ultron.

And him being the Rich white dude he was, he knew the accords wouldn’t effect him. He could still break the law without any consequences.

So he a brought a 15 year old child into battle with professionals, lied about his age, and didn’t even tell him the full reason of why he was fighting

Also? He thinks? Him and Steve? Were friends? Last I checked, they couldn’t stand each other, and had a hard time working together

So when he says “I wAs YoUr FrIeNd ToO” uh no. He’s known Bucky for 100 actual years. You guys have known each other for like 2, with 6 month breaks from working together

Homecoming, he completely neglects Peter and passes him off to happy, who ignores him as well

And then takes away the suit because Peter was trying to do his job.

You could give the excuse—“he sent government agents after the vulture!”

Yes. And toomes overpowered them by a lot so that didn’t do anything

Tony says he doesn’t want to end up like his father, but it just as emotionally distant as him

I cant even begin with that one scene in IW when he HAD THE CHANCE TO CALL STEVE AND ASK FOR HELP TO DEFEAT THANOS, BUT DIDNT. OUT OF PURE STUPIDITY AND HIS MASSIVE EGO

AND THEN WHEN HE AND HIS TEAM LOSES, HE’S??? SURPRISED???

LIKE, YEAH DUDE BECAUSE YOU HAVE PETER QUILL ON YOUR TEAM OBSESSING OVER HIS DEAD GIRLFRIEND smh

The endgame scene where he basically yells at Steve for “not being there” knowing full well that if Steve were to come out of hiding, he would’ve been arrested

Has a child five years later and then suddenly on tumblr, he’s “dad of the year” even tho he got like two scene with his kid...I mean...Stan Scott Lang

Him figuring out time travel makes no sense??

How’d he get pym particles of Hank kept his work secretive??

I’m telling you if Shuri hadn’t been dusted away, they wouldn’t have needed tony I stg

Fast forward and now he’s dead, and lemme tell you—it took EVERYTHING not to laugh at their faces.

Scott, Hank, Janet, Hope, Wanda, and Bucky, to be specific.

I mean

HE ALMOST KILLED BUCKY, KILLED WANDA’S ENTRE FAMILY, AND SCOTT JUST HATES HIM

They didn’t even wanna be there lmao

Ok, now that that’s done with, let’s move onto RDJ

I really never liked him as an actor because he has limited range when it comes to characters

By which I mean all of his characters are cocky, smart, “handsome”, and “funny”

They aren’t, but k

But now that he defended Crisp ratt for being a T*umpet supporter and a homophobe, I hate him even more now

And it’s not even because he’s standing up for ratt

It’s because he never showed this type of compassion when his female and cast mates of color were being attacked for their roles

Brie Larson got rape and death threats for being captain marvel, and only wanting more diversity/better pay for herself

Zendaya got hate because she was the first black MJ

Ratt got hate because he attended a homophobic church that supported conversion therapy

Guess which one RDJ defended?

Yup

And not only that but he’s just a really unfunny person. He’s basically Tony Stark and not in a good way

Though there isn’t a good way to be Tony Stark in the first place

NOW onto my favorite part

RDJ/Tony stocks fan club

Or “defense squad” as they call themselves, as if tonky doesn’t have enough defense already, with his suits and all

His fans ignore every flaw about his character and the actor himself

They constantly say how he’s a father figure to Peter, Shuri, nebula, Harley, when really...no

Peter has a father figure—Ben Parker

Shuri already had a father

Nebula didn’t have a good father, but in no means did they interact more than the beginning of endgame

He literally called Harley a p*say for MOURNING OVER HIS ABSENT FATHER

like haha ok Stark you can’t talk

Just because you have your own sob story doesn’t mean you can project that onto others to silence THEIR trauma

And that’s another thing—

His fans claim to say that he “portrays ptsd” more than any other avenger accurately

A C C U R A T E L Y???

Wanda and Pietro?

Steve?

Natasha?

Bucky?

Peter Parker?

Gamora?

Nebula?

Harley?

Literally anyone else but him???

What angers me the most, however, is that people will go as far as to say that Wanda is a nazi b*tch, but...

Not her brother

And I’m being dead serious—no post about “anti-maximoff” ever mentions pietro

Only wanda, as if she were an only child

Well now she is but that wasn’t the point

Their internal mysoginy hurts me both physically and mentally

I’m sorry I made it so long, but if you’d like proof of any of the points I’ve made, I’ll be happy to provide them (;

[femmedesyeuxnoirs]

I am so fucking fed up with this family. My aunt is the most irresponsible, stupid, racist, rude, annoying, loud, abusive, emotionally immature, hypocritical, deranged person I have ever met in my family. I am literally ashamed to be related to that woman. She lacks so much emotional self awareness its actually unbelievable. Im not exaggerating. Think about that person you know who lacks the most self awareness of anyone youve ever met in your life. Thats her but at least ten times worse. Every day when I hear the garage door open at 5 pm I just think okay. Alright. There goes the peace and quiet. Not only does she yell at her kid, she is as of late always taking her anger out on the dog?? I havent gone a single day in this household where I havent heard screaming. She literally never taught her child how to wipe either. Like just basic life skills. She is one of the worst parents I have ever had the misfortune of observing. So of course this kid is growing up to be just like her. His trash and toys are all over the floor and after leaving used toilet paper all around the toilet he doesnt even wash his hands. Whenever I hear that inevitable flush and then immediate sound of the door opening, I know that it was him that just used the bathroom. I let him use my laptop to play minecraft too and he leaves it turned on the entire night as if I hadnt told him like 3 times to turn it off when hes not using it because it destroys the disk. And every time he gives it back to me its somehow smeared in grease and crumbs on the screen and keyboard. I dont even know how thats possible. LIke not to be hating on a child but I cant fucking stand him. He leaves messes everywhere and no one in this house tells him to clean it up. Like every time he showers he leaves his dirty clothes literally spread out all over the floor, and then leaves the floor and rugs completely wet. Last time I showered after him he had spent like an entire hour in there, and apparently had slathered conditioner or something all over the bathtub. Like why does nobody say anything??? And then my aunt is constantly having to tell him to stop being violent to the dog because he reacts to it the way his mother has always reacted to him. Im gonna be honest once I saw that she got him that dog I knew it was going to end in disaster. When he was younger he used to throw rocks at choco and make our pets angry and harm them for literally no reason. Me and my sister would tell each other that the way he behaves is some future serial killer shit. My imediate family has always had that kind of icky feeling about him. So now that he has this dog he takes his anger out on it daily. I dont even know what my aunt was thinking. I think she probably regrets getting him one because every now and then when they think i cant hear them she tells the kid “one day youre going to kill that dog...” i honestly agree with her for once. Just the other day he was running around carrying chewy lifting him high off the ground and swinging him. And he dropped. The puppy. It wasnt on purpose but that is still extremely fucked up. After that the dog got really quiet and stopped playing. I just hope he didnt cause the thing any permanent damage. Including this, these are the other ways that he mistreats and neglects his dog: he purposefully neglects feeding him, neglects cleaning his area so that hes wallowing in his own waste and urine(though this can be attributed more to my aunt being a lazy irresponsible cunt), he washes his bed and doesnt put it in the dryer so that the dog is forced to sleep in a cold wet bed, he shrieks at him to try to scare him. Like screams at the top of his lungs. It drives me completely fucking insane. He also puts on sound effects of dogs barking and growling on full volume to scare him, and is constantly hitting him while hes trying to play with him. To try to get him mad and get a rise out of him for no reason besides his own amusement. My aunt has to keep reminding him “dont hit him!!!” like several times in a row before he actually listens. This whole puppy for christmas thing is the most irresponsible thing my aunt has done. She knows that her kid is prone to abusing animals and incapable of looking after a living thing and still she gets him this dog. As a poor attempt to try to mend her horrifically broken family which is entirely her fault. I remember the day she got him chewy she recorded his reaction and posted it to facebook, which is like yeah thats what parents usually do. But the entire night you could hear her rewatching the video constantly. And I couldnt help but feel that she was doing it out of a fucked up act of self congratulation to try to convince herself and everyone on the internet that she actually isnt an abusive cunt of a mother. One of these days he is going to cause serious physical harm to this poor dog or even kill him. So you understand how I feel like this is inevitably going to end in tragedy, for the kid and the dog. Its a miracle i havent killed myself during the time ive spent here really. I might actually do it honestly. If my family doesnt forcibly commit me to the mental asylum first

[inkweaver22-blr]

Phew! Here’s chapter 15!

I’m not sure how I feel about this one so let me know what you think!

AO3 Link

<Previous | First | Next>

Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Fifteen: Distressing Encounters

Tang faces a foe more powerful than Lady Bone Demon.

----------

Tang ran his fingers through Xiaotian’s fur as the young monkey slept. He smiled at the content look on the kid’s face.

He didn’t like this timeline.

These quiet moments of safety and peace were becoming increasingly infrequent this cycle. Tang did his best to be a comforting presence for his son, but the threat of their enemy always loomed in the back of everyone’s minds.

Tang looked at the clock and sighed. If he was going to get any work done before the shop opened he would have to get going soon. Tang placed a kiss against Xiaotian’s forehead before standing to leave.

“Baba?”

Xiaotian was looking up at Tang with half open eyes, obviously still more asleep than awake.

“Go back to sleep, Xiaotian,” Tang said as he resumed running his hand through his kid’s fur. “I was just checking on you before I left.”

“Where ya goin’?”

“I need to head to the shop early to do some paperwork. You don’t need to be up yet.”

“M’kay,” Xiaotian slurred, already falling back asleep from the sensation of Tang stroking his head. “Be safe.”

“I will.” Tang leaned over and placed another kiss on Xiaotian’s head. “I love you.”

“Love you.”

Tang’s heart leapt. It was the first time Xiaotian had confessed his feelings to him this cycle. He smiled down at the once more sleeping figure.

He probably wouldn’t remember this conversation later, but Tang was proud of how much progress Xiaotian was making. The amount of emotional trauma he had been subjected to this cycle was immense. That his loving spirit hadn’t been extinguished was a miracle. Tang was going to do his absolute best to nurture that spirit back to full strength no matter what.

Tang left the apartment and made his way to his antique and artifact repair shop. He was Tripitaka once again this cycle and seemed to have developed a knack for tinkering with relics over the years.

Pigsy, in contrast, was a semi-retired mercenary who liked to hang out at the shop when he had nothing else to do. It was an interesting change in dynamics with Tang being the busy one with a shop while Pigsy loitered around distracting him.

Not that he minded seeing his husband for most of the day.

Tang unlocked the shop and made his way to the back to put away his coat. He picked up several sheets of paper and began working on checking his inventory.

If it had only been Pigsy and himself swapped around, Tang might have found this cycle to be enjoyable. Unfortunately for nearly everyone, that wasn’t the case.

Tang frowned as he absently made a note to order more clockwork springs for his personal repair kit.

This timeline was… pretty bad. It seemed that there was some new crisis every week that would leave horrible emotional damage on anyone involved. Worse yet was the demon who was responsible for the majority of the trauma.

The Monkey King.

Tang shuddered as he remembered the first time he saw the cruel expression of the monster that wore the face of a member of his family.

Tang thought the cycles where he was the villain were bad enough, but at least he could choose to be reformed.

The Monkey King was a bloodthirsty and malicious foe that made any evil version of himself seem tame in comparison.

This anomaly in personality was the result of a plan hatched by Wukong and Macaque hundreds of years ago. Early on during the Journey to the West, the two monkeys had swapped places, with no one being the wiser. So while Wukong was off plotting his revenge against Heaven, Macaque was the one who learned humility and love from Tripitaka and the others.

The end result was the Monkey King being sealed under a mountain with his own staff by Macaque with the assistance of Queen Iron Fan and Red Son who wielded the Samadhi Fire.

Not without a steep price, however.

Macaque had lost his right eye. Red Son had almost been consumed by the sacred flames until Guanyin placed a hoop around the boy’s neck, sealing the flames and unfortunately his memories of being a demon as well. His parents were forced to keep him a bit at arms length to prevent the seal from breaking.

Tang clenched his pen as he thought about the more recent events.

Mei, who was being emotionally neglected by her parents, had witnessed Xiaotian’s adoptive father, the Yellow Wind Demon, being freed from his mink form. She had attempted to fight him, only to be blown away. Once she returned with her family’s spear, she managed to force the demon to retreat. Macaque had then proclaimed he would take her on as his student.

But the worst was yet to come.

Yellow Wind Demon tricked Xiaotian into removing the staff that was sealing the Monkey King away. It was then that the horrible truth had been revealed.

Xiaotian was a clone of the Monkey King.

Tang had to stop and take a few breaths as nausea rushed through him. Luckily Xiaotian had become independent enough that the Monkey King couldn’t just dispel him, but that didn’t stop Tang from having nightmares about it.

Mei and Red Son had rushed off to save Xiaotian from Monkey King’s clutches, and Tang had followed after them. The pure hate the demon monkey had sent his way when he had recited the tightening sutra for the first time in all the cycles to rescue the kids would be seared into his memory for years to come.

Xiaotian had turned against his creator and now lived with Tang and Pigsy in their apartment. The trauma of being a copy of that monster was still strong, but Tang intended to smooth it out with endless kindness and love.

Tang pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes as the image of a sinisterly grinning Monkey King filled his head once more.

He had been extremely lucky that he hadn’t been recognized as Tripitaka by the demon. He had no doubt the Monkey King would then stop at nothing to hunt him down for turning Macaque against him. Not that it had been too hard once he and the others had pointed out to Macaque how abusive the Monkey King was in their relationship.

Tang sighed as he tried to focus on his inventory list.

He hated feeling this powerless. The Monkey King was the most terrifying adversary he had faced across the timelines. Worse than even Lady Bone Demon and the Mayor. He was going to get ulcers from how worried he constantly felt.

The bell above the front door chimed, signalling an entering customer. Had he forgotten to keep the sign flipped to closed?

“I’m sorry,” Tang said, not turning from his paperwork. “But the shop is closed at the mome-”

A paw clasped around his mouth and a strong arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him close against someone. Tang dropped his papers as his glasses fell from his face.

“Hello Tripitaka,” a horrifyingly familiar voice said.

Tang turned in terror to see the sneering face of the Monkey King leaning close into his own.

“I missed you so much.”

No no no no no!

How had he found out?!

“Let’s go find Liu Er and the kid and go home now, hmm?”

Tang’s blood ran cold.

Monkey King didn’t want him dead. It was so much worse than that.

He wanted Tang to be a part of his twisted family with Macaque and Xiaotian.

The thought of being used against his old friend and son to make them comply made Tang’s pulse quicken.

He couldn’t let that happen!

Adrenaline rushed through him as previous years of fighting experience kicked in.

Tang shoved his foot back into his captor’s, managing to catch Monkey King by surprise and push him off balance. The strength of the Earth suddenly seemed to flow through him as he grabbed the demon’s arms and managed to throw him over his head into one of the displays on the wall.

Instinctively, Tang raised his hands as another power came forth. He quickly called out the tightening sutra while casting a binding spell simultaneously. The Monkey King snarled in pain as his fillet squeezed his head and ropes of golden-yellow light wrapped around him.

Tang waved his hands and recited another spell, summoning several domed barriers of light around the demon as he knew the ropes wouldn’t hold for long. He would worry about how he was doing this once he was out of danger and not running on autopilot

“You’ll regret that!” The Monkey King bared his fangs at Tang as he strained against the magic ropes, several of them already beginning to snap.

“The only thing I regret, Wukong,” Tang said coldly, his hands glowing golden-yellow as he began to manipulate the Earth beneath the shop, “was not being a good enough teacher to show you the error of your ways.”

The Monkey King snarled in defiance as two enormous slabs of rock burst through the floor and fused together around the barriers holding the demon. Tang rushed forward and placed the strongest seal he knew onto the makeshift prison.

It wouldn’t keep the insanely powerful demon trapped permanently, but it would buy Tang enough time to get to his husband and son and escape to somewhere safe.

Tang picked his glasses up and ran from the shop, placing another seal on the building itself for good measure. A few of the friendlier shopkeepers from the neighboring buildings were standing outside.

“Are you alright Tang?”

“We heard a loud crash coming from your shop.”

“The Monkey King is trapped inside,” Tang said a bit breathlessly. The shopkeepers looked panicked. “He’s after me. I need to get my family to safety. Can you make sure this street is evacuated before he escapes?”

“Holy shit!”

“Y-yeah! We’ll take care of it! Just go get somewhere safe!”

“Thank you. You all might want to stay away for a while as well in case he tries to use you to get to me,” Tang said. They all paled a little at that and quickly left after wishing him good luck.

Tang took off at a sprint towards his apartment. He had left his phone in the back of the shop with his coat. Hopefully it was still early enough that neither Pigsy or Xiaotian had left yet.

The adrenaline was quickly wearing off, and he felt the powers he had used ebb away entirely. Tang would have normally been endlessly fascinated at this new development, but the threat of the Monkey King was still hanging over him. He would have to examine what had just happened later once they were all somewhere safe.

There was an explosion in the distance, followed by an enraged roar.

Tang grit his teeth as he ignored the stitch in his side and ran faster.

He really didn’t like this timeline.

----------

And here we have the second most popular AU by @winterpower98, the absolute angst-fest that is the Swap AU.

The scene where Wukong shows up is directly referencing this comic that got commissioned by @stylishbutdefinitelyillegal.

I’m not sure if I managed to capture Tang’s thoughts on this timeline clearly or if I just managed to give a brief, crappy summary of it instead. :/

And what’s up with those powers from past cycles showing up? That’s certainly never happened before.

Guess we’ll have to wait and see!

Until next time!

[pinkishbee-writes]

Heart of Gold: PreciousMetalShipping

TW: Implied child neglect, emotionally distant parent(s), implied cigarette use

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727744 

The sky was clear, the streets were quiet, and there were visible heat waves coming off the pavement. It was miserably hot.

Unfortunately, Gold had been shoved out of the house by his mother. She was talking on the phone, and absolutely hated the loud antics he got into… like playing the Wii in his room. He wanted more than anything to stay inside and keep playing, but she insisted that he was too loud, and even threw in a comment about how he needed more vitamin D. 

He thought she’d at least let him stay inside on the day, but she must’ve forgotten. Typical.

The least he could do was celebrate it himself.

He grabbed his bike from the porch and took off. Not many people were out, which just increased his irritation with the whole situation. The few people who were out didn't say anything to him. It's not like he could expect them to remember if his own mother didn't, but he didn't care. He was no stranger to holding grudges. In fact, he considered it one of his many talents. 

He stopped at the convenient store that Crystal was working at during summer break, locking his bike to a pole. The store's cold air cooled him off, but he still found himself lingering in the fridge as he grabbed two sodas. He brought them back to the checkout, ignoring Crystal's greeting. He grabbed a bag of chips and party horns. Crystal gave him a weird look when he set them on the counter.

"What are the tooters for?" 

"It's my birthday."

"Oh my God!" She gave him a hug over the counter, knocking over a soda. "Happy birthday! Oh, you should've told me sooner, I would've gotten you something."

He put the soda right side up. "You could start by ringing me up."

"Right, sorry!" She happily rang everything up. "I could pay for it, as a present."

Gold looked around for a second— the coast was clear. "Or you could give me a pack of Marlboros."

She gasped at him, leaning over the counter to whisper. "You know I can't do that! I'd get in serious trouble." 

"C'mon, it's my birthday," he said. "I hooked you up with Red for prom last year. You owe me."

Her face flushed. “That’s different!”

“Is not!”

She looked around and sighed, dropping her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

Of course she wouldn’t. He snatched the bag and started towards the door. 

“I promise I’ll make it up to you!” She called out.

“Whatever.”

He unlocked his bike and tore off down the road. How was that not equal payment? It wasn’t even as hard! At this rate, he couldn’t rely on anyone. He was tempted to just have his birthday all alone, but then the second soda would go to waste. That is, if the kid even accepted it. The temptation to turn around and go home grew stronger, but Gold never backed down from a challenge, even one as depressing as trying not to spend his birthday alone.

He had to cut through someone’s yard to get to the forest. It wasn’t easy to bike through, so he walked his bike through the woods until he found the broken, overgrown fence. He dropped his bike and climbed under, looking around the clearing he was led to. The grass was a bit tall, but nothing he couldn’t handle. All around the clearing were huge oak trees that blended back into the huge forest. That kid should be around somewhere…

Up in the foliage of an oddly shaped oak tree, there was a bit of red hair peeking through the green. Gold could see him lying across a branch, eyes closed. Surely he wasn’t sleeping up there.

“SILVER!”

He jumped and held onto his branch for dear life, looking down at the asshole who yelled for him. Gold smirked at him. “Come down here.”

Silver carefully climbed down the tree. “What are you doing here?” He snapped.

“I wanted to hang out.” He grabbed a soda from the bag and handed it to Silver. “I brought snacks.”

Silver didn’t take the soda, instead just glaring at it for a moment. “Why would I hang out with you?”

“‘Cause it’s my birthday!” 

“And you have nowhere better to be? On your birthday.”

Gold scoffed. “What're you talking about? This is the coolest place I could think of.”

“Right...”

Gold shoved the soda in his hand and led him back to the base of his tree. He sat down, finally relaxing now that he was out of the harsh sunlight. He cracked open his soda and almost started chugging it. It was so refreshing, and he’d been dying to get a sip of it since he left the store. “I fucking love soda.”

“Don’t swear,” Silver scolded.

He just laughed at him, handing him the bag of chips. 

They stayed mostly quiet while they snacked. Gold didn’t really feel the need to say much, and Silver probably didn’t have anything interesting to talk about. He was a weirdo, but Gold still enjoyed his company. It was better than anyone else’s.

After about half an hour, Silver finally spoke up. “Aren’t you bored?”

“Nah.”

A few more minutes passed. “You have other friends, y’know.”

“What do you mean?”

“To spend time with, for your birthday, or whatever.” he answered, picking at the grass. “I know I wasn’t your first choice. That’d be stupid.”

“They’re all busy,” he said. “And it’s not stupid. I’m having fun.”

“What about your mom?”

“Do you want me to leave?” Gold snapped, sitting up straight. “‘Cause I’ll fuckin’ leave if you don’t want me here. Just tell me and I’ll go.”

Silver stared at him. He wasn’t glaring at him, and he wasn’t shocked at his outburst. He looked… indifferent. Somehow that pissed Gold off even more.

“I was just curious,” he mumbled. “I don’t care what you do.”

“Are you bored, princess?”

Silver shoved him. “Calm down, I was just curious! You never hang out with me, so... I’m just confused about it.”

“Well don’t be.”

“Don’t confuse me, then.”

Gold turned and shoved Silver hard, causing him to fall over. He got back up and shoved Gold back, but he wouldn’t fall over as easy. Silver kept pushing on him until Gold started laughing. “Okay, okay, I get it!” He took a moment to catch his breath after Silver stopped. “Whew… I didn’t know you were so weak.”

Silver stood up and kicked Gold in the side, causing him to just burst out laughing again. “Ow, you dick!”

“God, you’re so weird!” Silver yelled, storming off. “Leave me alone!”

“Wait, wait, wait, Sil! Wait, I’m sorry!”

The sun was starting to set, but Gold was still hanging out with Silver. He was dreading going home, but even Silver was starting to get antsy about going home himself. They were on their way out of the forest when Gold offered Silver a ride home.

He simply shook his head. “Maybe another time.”

They crossed through the yard and stopped at the road as Gold got on his bike. He wasn’t entirely ready to leave yet. Silver was surprisingly really nice company. “You sure you don’t want a ride?”

He nodded. 

“Alright. See you later.”

“Wait!” 

Gold turned to see Silver smiling at him. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

[neuvillette]

Francis is perfect for England.

England is self-critical to the point of almost self-hatred in some regards, but he's also unrivaled in his pride. Much of this is a facade, of course, but some of it is actually a genuine expression of his attempts to like himself. Being constantly denigrated/neglected as he was growing up made him much more vocal about his self-praise (even if it's ingenuine praise he doesn’t think he deserves) to make up for the fact that he wasn't really getting it from elsewhere. I think most people around him just see this as arrogance (which it is sometimes, to be fair, especially during his adventuring days). His incredibly opinionated nature means that he comes of as aggressive to others, which he is when he believes he’s being more logical or correct (which is often). He loves physical labour, walks, anything to stay active, but a good mental challenge is incredibly fulfilling to him as well. He also has a strong tendency to overwork himself, he is prone to melancholy, and dwells too much on how and why he's alone, often to the point that he overlooks the smaller ways he makes others happy. He doesn’t really realise that he has much, if any, positive impact on others, which leads him to believe that he’s a worse person than he is. He is incredibly stubborn, but his sense of duty often makes him cave in to doing things he would prefer not to, which generally is work or war. He is almost defined by this strong pull of duty, of being a gentleman, of Englishness to a harsh degree. This impossible standard also makes him ashamed when he obviously can't live up to it, and this shame is something he believes others feel about him as well. To him, when he cannot fulfill an expectation, it's not only himself that feels regret, it's that everyone is looking down on him. This also makes his responses to other people less than friendly, often incredibly defensive (which for him looks like outright vitriol to others sometimes) which isn't doing him any favours when he's trying to not push people away. He's a hard nut to crack, so it's understandable why some people just choose not to even attempt to deal with it at all. He is, however, irredeemably sentimental deep down, and such a softie that he's actually quite ashamed of himself over it. He’ll buy sweeties for kids that can’t afford it, help people across the street, spend time he should be working on paperwork helping out anyone in need (which occasionally gets him scolded for being late, only leading to more self-doubt as to how good he actually is). He’s a quite masculine person, being a drinker and pub-frequenter. While he does hobbies traditionally considered “feminine”, he tries not to think about how this “brings him down” in other people’s eyes, though he does have layers of toxic masculinity to him. This often is worsened by his “stiff upper lip” mentality. No whinging about anything, from physical pain to emotional anguish, a lot of which he considers pathetic if he does it, but natural if someone else does. His double standard for behavior and tolerance of pain is something really clear in his relationship to other people, especially kids, the elderly, and strangers in general. If he caught a kid, or anyone else, spouting the mentality he enforces on himself, he’d instantly rebuke it! Sentimentality is a very, very difficult layer to find within him, though, and it usually only surfaces when he's in massive amounts of emotional anguish. That's when he gets quite retaliatory, like with Alfred when he was breaking away. A lot of this also has to deal with his absolute emotional ineptitude. If he's writing alone, or talking to someone he's not especially close to, how eloquent he is! His poetry is almost unrivaled and he's decently good at reading the room, so to speak. He also can be quite the flirt (though never in a real romantic sense)! Old women love him over that, they think he’s the sweetest young lad they know. This demeanor goes out the door the moment he feels "attacked" in any way, though, which most often is when he's feeling insecure. If that's the case, watch him try to struggle to get a compliment out, or to say anything other than a nasty insult meant to express an entirely different (often more favourable) message to the recipient. What he means to say as “you’re looking nice today” often comes out as “you don’t look as crap as usual”. The reverse is true too, when he means to say “I’m glad you’re spending time with me”, what comes out is “Wow, you’re wasting your time talking to me?” What a mess...

That's just why Francis is perfect, though. His stubbornness is most certainly a match for England's in most regards, and in some cases even trumps it, generally with things like his determination to weasel England's genuine emotions out of him. Francis is self-confident, too, and why wouldn't he be? Harsh comments can effect him, of course, and he is also sentimental, but the fact that he's much more open and honest about his emotions makes him generally easy to talk to and communicate with, as well as more impervious to critique. Unlike England, he's not ashamed of who he is or how he feels in practically every regard. He's unabashedly himself. He takes no shit because he knows what he wants and deserves, so if his bosses or anyone else tries to overwork him? Nope. He wants a coffee break because that's what's good for him, so he's going to do it. This makes him distressed when people he cares about aren't as rigorous with their own self-care, appreciation, and praise. This doesn't come up too often with Gilbert or Antonio, though Gilbert is quite similar to England in many regards, but boy does he have a field day with England. Often times he gets frustrated with him, though, since he just doesn't understand why he let's himself get pushed around, ignored, etc, and this only gets worse when England responds with "well maybe you should work harder?" Francis usually throws back a "You wouldn't expect others to do this, why do you do it to yourself?" The answer is obvious and Francis knows it. Many people can't see past the rough exterior, and Francis has had his fair share of "fuck it, I'm done with you" moments too, which are entirely understandable. But then he remembers the little kid crying over being abandoned again, and he understands how that's led to how England reacts to things now, and he wants to show him that the world isn’t out to get him and that the viewpoint on life of his that has been reinforced is a lie. Francis is just emotionally fluent, and that means for basically everyone. A lot of it is just intuition, or just some weird ability of his, but since he holds real love for everything in his heart, he also has an odd and immediate understanding of things on a level England can't feel immediately. This means basically every tactic England generally uses to evade other people, their judgement, or even his own feelings, is completely transparent to France. Other people think England is honestly boasting and degrading others after someone else does a good job? Francis finds it kind of sad how hard England is trying to hide his own embarrassment or feelings of ineptitude. England is leaving meetings early and says he has better company to look forward to, and everyone thinks he's haughty? Francis is surprised England feels so left out and alone that he has to pretend to have better friends. This goes the other way as well! When England feels snubbed by someone, Francis is there to reassure him that it’s a misunderstanding. Alfred’s being himself again? It’s alright, that’s just his way of expressing himself, he’s not trying to be hurtful. Francis is good with interpreting between England’s emotions and other people’s, which is something England REALLY needs. Is this intuition of his always functioning, however? Nope! Francis can be quite the drama queen, and that primarily shows up when England genuinely rebukes his earnest attempts to make him feel better, or when other people are really caught up in whatever (admittedly) idiotic thing England's done most recently. This has gotten the pair into a history of misunderstandings that even a language barrier can't hope to achieve! Still, once he's able to have a one-on-one again when their both in a better frame of mind, it's not difficult for him to sort things out again. England hasn't felt heard most of his life, and Francis is a great listener and a master at emotional intelligence. Francis doesn't really hold much shame about himself or shame others (unless their clothing is just TOO atrocious), so he's a natural at working through those problems with England. From England's perspective, though, he's just... fascinating. He finds Francis arrogant, not because he thinks Francis doesn't live up to the standards Francis espouses, but because he DOES find Francis that great for the most part and thinks it rude to show off so much! He thinks Francis is too blunt about things to the point of rudeness (in a VERY distinct way from America since Alfred typically does this without the tact Francis has), but that bluntness makes Francis open and accessible to him in ways that others aren't. He can be far too silly and frivolous, but England needs that so he’s not such a hardass, which Francis often reminds him of. Francis is also impeccably charming and is one of the only people who give England the precise praise that makes him feel so unequivocally good and appreciated...But he sees France be just as kind to everyone else and he feels like he's been used. The thing is, though, that they both get under each other's skin. That makes them so quick to bicker, of course, but England needs someone he can be quick and witty and his own Austen-like figure with that can stand up to the challenge. He goes easy (or what he thinks of as easy) with people he cares about, but that's often still too much for most people, but not for Francis. Francis is as quick as a whip, too, and he's not one to shy away from many challenges, even if he is still a bit of a scardey-cat with some things.

Not to mention that England finds Francis so dumbfoundingly attractive and is his best partner in bed as well... England's feelings of inferiority means he needs reinforcement, but not so much that he feels he's being pitied or looked down upon, and Francis does this naturally. England often feels he no longer has control of the direction of his life, that he's not as strong, as dutiful, as capable as he once was. I feel like that's why he'd not really ever bottom in bed, he already feels that he doesn't have that power in his day to day life and he wants a place to find it during sex, and that fits perfectly into what Francis needs as well. It's also a trust thing, I think, where when England is able to take charge, he's given real trust from Francis that he can't really find anywhere else. When England needs to feel like a powerful king, Francis gets gratification from helping him fulfill it. On the rare occasion that England just wants something caring, a place to feel that he's in control and can express love and tenderness for someone, Francis makes sure he's in charge and comfortable with how he does it it, which is key to him not being ashamed. They both also have equally ravenous libidos so that's a plus, too. Also Francis has a phat ass and his moans are really hot in bed.

Check out this link for a look at Francis, and why England is Francis's perfect match as well!

[hollenka99]

The Futility of Talking

Summary: Ghostbur decides Soulbur needs people to talk to.

Warnings: implied suicidal ideation, referenced parental neglect, referenced animal death, nearly drowning (accident unrelated to the first tw)

Masterlist

It takes days of wandering in the woods for Ghostbur to gradually decide he's had enough. It's isolating out here in the open. This isn't helped by the fact Soulbur seems hellbent on avoiding him whenever he is bestowed the privilege of catching a glimpse. Did he do something wrong? If he made Soulbur upset somehow, he'd really love to apologise and work through it.

Friend turns his head at a slight rustle coming from the trees. Ghostbur's face lights up when he follows the sheep's gaze and his eyes land on a calico lazing around on a branch. He commands Friend to stay there. Climbing the tree isn't that difficult so it doesn't take him long to perch on an adjacent branch, hand outstretched to gain the cat's trust. "Hi, I'm Ghostbur. Do you like chin scratches? I know she did." He sits by the steam, pole in hand. He's done for the morning with the trading he set out to the village for. There seems to be more than enough fish to spare here so today is getting more successful by the hour. A squid found itself on the end of his line earlier too. He'll have to work out how to prepare it. He's sure Phil demonstrated once but that was likely years ago. Phil himself has gone off for a short trip and was due to return by this evening. If Wilbur can keep the squid fresh enough, he'll ask him for advice so they can have some tomorrow night. A stray cat has warily made her way towards him. No sudden movements, he remembers. Strays tend to be skittish (this one evidently no exception) and need patience shown to them if you wish to pet one. He slowly offers the cat a chunk of one of the fish. She loves it and it is clear she is requesting more. So he gives in to her incessant mewling. What he hadn't considered during this interaction was how quickly a stray could begin viewing you with affection if you gave them the time of day. Having hung around him while he fished, she inevitably follows him after he packs up to go home. At first, he'd chuckled in a 'ha look at this cat attach itself to me' way. Then she leapt into his little boat and it suddenly grew more serious. Uh, yeah, you might not want to go all the way home with him, little kitty, it'll be a hell of a hike home otherwise. She looks to him expectantly. Ha, okay I know I gave you some fish today but you can't have any more because I need some left to eat myself so it's best if you hop out of- Oh alright you're going to clamber onto my lap, huh? Fine, fine, I'll let you hang out at my house for a little while. Prepare yourself for Tommy though, that kid can be a fairly boisterous at times. Tommy is quicker to greet her than help his brother with the bloody shopping or today's catch. He fusses over her as if she was already their pet. "Oh nice, have we got ourselves a cat then?" "No, they're-" Yes. Yes, they were absolutely going to take in this stray, weren't they? God damn it. "They're going to need a name before we do that." The two of them bounce names off of each other. In the mix are the likes of Pumpkin, Carrot, Rose, Apricot and Amber. Wilbur jokingly suggests 'Basilina' in reference to something which unfortunately leaves Tommy's face blank. Whatever gets suggested, none of the options come across as the right one. "Why do people call orange red?" Tommy asks out of nowhere. "Oh, it's because you're never going to get an animal with fur that's actually red but orange is close enough so you get people saying orange fur is red. Something like that. It's the same way someone might look at a cat and call their fur blue when actually it's more grey with blue tones." "That's dumb." Tommy scoffs. "Hey, apples are red." "...They are, yes." "I want to call her Apple." "I thought you liked Pumpkin a minute ago." "She can be both." "Like a first name-last name kind of deal? Well... I think Appleby might be an actual surname that exists so what do you think about Pumpkin Appleby?" The small boy bursts into giggles. "That's the stupidest name I have ever heard." "Oh really? Well if you're so great at coming up with names on the fly, you do better." He teases. Tommy frowns with concentration as he deliberates on the perfect identity for this ginger cat who has wandered into their lives until he comes up with "Apple Pumpkinson." "Sure." He laughs. "Sure, we'll call her Apple Pumpkinson, I guess. As good a name as any." He crafts the name tag that very afternoon. With the cat clearly not interested in social interaction right now, Ghostbur leaps to the ground. A familiar animal comes into existence. Apple gets a fair amount of attention before complying with his offer of being carried. It's been so long since he had her against his chest. It feels good. "Come on, let's find Soulbur. I'm sure he'll want to meet you." --- There is a voice drifting in the wind from somewhere nearby. Close enough to hear, far enough to not be able to discern more details about its origins. He knows it is most likely Ghostbur trying to chat with him despite all his effort to evade his company. Forgive him for hardly having 'talking through our last interaction' on his hypothetical 'stuff I'd prefer to do today' list. But then again, it could not be. Someone could have somehow breached the boundaries of his private world. Is that possible? He... thinks so. To be fair, he can leave so there must be exploitable fault lines somewhere. Perhaps he should defend himself. Obviously, a threat to his safety can only go so far given that he can't permanently sustain injuries, let alone die again. And fuck knows he never gave much of a shit about physically protecting himself in those last several weeks of life. But look at him waste valuable time deliberating. Shit like that could easily get you killed. Whoever is approaching, they're getting closer. Maybe Ghostbur. Maybe someone who doesn't wish him well. Does he risk trusting the most likely option? Or does he risk coming across as a paranoid weirdo who overthinks the slightest things too often? He's in an open space with no-one else around, in a sectioned off part of the void that no-one visits. Ha, someone could take him out and Ghostbur likely wouldn't find him until tomorrow or whatever. But wants to believe this will have the best outcome as a result of heavily misinterpreting his senses. God, there he goes again, decreasing his chances of properly defending himself from a potential threat in time. Listen, it's probably Ghostbur so don't manifest a weapon, it's probably Ghostbur so don't manifest a weapon, it's probably Ghostbur so don't manifest a weapon. He draws a sword as he whips around. If the pursuer is far away, he has time to switch to something long range like a bow and arrow. Otherwise, he won't have the chance to correct what could be a fatal mistake. "Hi, Soulbur!" The smile drops in shock. "O-Oh." See? Just Ghostbur with Friend tagging along close behind. Honestly, who else would it be? "Ghostbur." Shoulders sag in what could be interpreted as relief or some sort of exhaustion. The sword drops from his loosened grip, vanishing as if it never existed in the first place. He makes no further comment when he notices there's a ginger cat in the ghost's arms. Not just any feline with orange fur either. There is no doubt in his mind who this is. He wants to be flooded with recollections of petting sessions, moments spent unable to leave the spot he was sitting due to a napping lump and times he'd laughed while getting yelled at. Yet no matter how hard he tries, only two associated memories reveal themselves to be prominent. The first revolves around sitting on the large bed, one arm occupied with Fundy while the other drew Tommy closer without causing his brother's hand to slip away from the fur it was emerged in. The other featured the sweltering heat of the Nether and knowing it was possibly the very last place he wished to be at that very moment. "Do you remember her?" "Y-Yeah, I think so." He attempts to crouch but, thanks to still coming down from hyperactive thoughts, he miscalculates his balance and ends up sitting within seconds. Allowed back on the ground, Apple cautiously approaches Soulbur's offered backhand. "Oh." He exhales. "Hi, Aps." His eyes can fuck off. There is no way in hell he's letting himself cry over something that happened years ago. Especially not with Ghostbur present. Instead he focuses on gently kneading the spots behind her ears. "I am so sorry. It's my fault for not monitoring you more closely." "I'm guessing she stayed with Phil after Tommy, Fundy and Alivebur left." "You think we would have left her at home? No, no, no. She's been gone for years. It was back when Fundy was tiny. Tommy was watching him while we made dinner but called us over for something. We could have sworn we covered those mushrooms but Tommy made it sound urgent and we..." Soulbur's gaze redirects itself with a soft sigh. She glances back at him. "Why the hell did you have to go snooping around and nibbling on things you're not supposed to, huh missy?" "I don't know why but Tommy got it into his head it would be cool if we buried her in the Nether. Pretty sure we were too emotionally drained to say anything other than 'fuck it, why not'. There was a warped forest not far from where the nearest portal landed us so we left her under one of the trees. Did you like that? I know it was a bit warmer than you'd expect it to be." 'Tell me more about her', he wants to say. 'I know I'll forget pretty much as soon as you finish but could you spare a story?', he nearly asks. 'Let's practise futility together', he is seconds away from offering. "Thank you." He instead says. "So... are we letting bygones be bygones then?" "Did something happen? I'm trying to think but nothing is coming up." "Uh, yeah." He frowns. "We-" Oh. Of fucking course. Stupid him for stressing about a potential confrontation between them where they'd need to discuss their argument. All this time and Ghostbur didn't even bloody recall any of it. Well done, Soulbur, for wasting your goddamn week. His only consolation was that at least several days meant nothing when compared to near-infinity. "Never mind. It wasn't important anyway." "I'm sorry if I did something bad. I'm really trying to remember." "Sure. Whatever. Doesn't matter so don't worry about it. Either way, I'm sorry too." All across their world, out of their view, every fungal species goes extinct in an instant. Mostly because he refuses to let history to repeat itself, partially because he needs to say fuck you to something. --- Ghostbur is delighted to see Soulbur when he makes a surprise visit. It's completely unexpected but somehow, it makes the interruption to his day all the better. His counterpart encourages him to follow along. Apparently, there is something Soulbur would like to show him. He asks after Apple as they travel. She's doing alright and is back at Soulbur's hideout. Across a hill is an entire valley of flowers, populated by a variety of colourful plants. There were daisies over there, a rainbow's worth of tulips scattered in most directions and oh look, patches of bare grass. Friend will love that. At the centre of the flowery ocean is a dark blue pool of the flower he's been struggling to find up until now. From the edge where they are standing, there is pleasant line of birch trees acting as a border. Looking further, he spots a lake of the other side. "This whole thing is yours." "Everything?" "Yep. Knock yourself out." "But why?" "Because I can?" He shrugs. "You got me Apple and I'm not such a huge twat that I wouldn't at least attempt to return the gesture." "Thank you!" Ghostbur throws his arms open, spontaneously moving towards the other half of Alivebur. The momentum doesn't lead to his body affectionately colliding with Soulbur's. Instead, it causes his hands to impact with the ground, the only things preventing his face from joining them. Glancing up, he catches wide eyes staring back at him and the twitch of an arm that, in another set of circumstances, might not have been 'corrected' before the command to complete the intended action was fulfilled. Then the sight vanishes as Soulbur's expression morphs into something more akin to a fed up frown. "Yeah, don't mention it. No need to make a big fuss. In fact, I think I'm done here. Just um... maybe you could set your base here. I don't think you ever got around to actually building a house, right? You could clear some wood from these trees and put it around about here." With that, he sets off. Like... he always does. Looking out over it once more, there is no doubt that this place really was gorgeous. He's grateful that Soulbur thought to make something like this for him, he truly is. However, he can't fully appreciate it because Soulbur always seemed to end up mad whenever Ghostbur was around. He's even materialised a pearl to make his escape faster. Oh, hang on, what if it's simply him that's the issue? You can't expect somebody to like everyone they know. Perhaps the solution is to provide him with more people to talk to. He'd only had Schlatt (their lifetime hatred had transferred over) and Mexican Dream (while their relationship was better, it was hardly like they were close, as far as Ghostbur could tell). Now that this line of thought has occurred to him, he could also benefit from speaking to expanding his social circle while here. He sighs. But first, he should find Friend. He's sure his loyal companion of a sheep will love the grassy parts of this gift as much as Ghostbur does. --- Tucked in the cliff face, Soulbur was perfectly content with spending time with his cat. He'd half forgotten how it felt to have weight pressing on the side of his face or across his chest, if he's going to be honest. He knows his company is not the most entertaining but he appreciates that Apple seems not to outwardly mind. One day he might actually fish or hunt again for her instead of simply causing her food to appear from thin air. He's sure she'll like that. Either way, all of this is to say that no, Ghostbur, he would rather not get dragged to your field for some activity you haven't even explained clearly. All he'd managed to surmise was that it entailed speaking to someone. Had Schlatt or Mexican Dream discovered a way to come here? He hopes not since this was supposed to his private piece of the void. Although, now he thought about it, he's pretty sure he's unintentionally missed the last couple times he and Mexican Dream had tried to schedule a Spanish lesson. Damn it. Yeah, Mexican Dream likely wasn't super pleased about being left hanging. Next card session, he'd apologise. Had someone they'd known died and found their way here somehow? No, he's sure Ghostbur would have mentioned their name by now if that had been the case. Even when they reach their destination, nothing gains any clarity. "Alright, we're here. What do you want from me?" "I was thinking about how we can make people show up because, well, I already made Apple appear. Anyway, it might be good for you to have more friends here because before me, you were very lonely." "I'm not... lonely." He huffs. "Besides, when it comes to a lot of our 'friends', we didn't part on the best of terms. Lots of uh, animosity, I suppose you could say." "Then you get that anger out. You're very good at that." Yep, that's him, the guy who was always angry. Not like anger or its cousin frustration weren't simply the easiest to settle into. He's played the asshole villain once before, he can keep doing it for the sake of maintaining his reputation. He supposes he should be glad that Ghostbur has never caught any moments where his face hadn't been as dry whenever the ghost has approached his cave. Or when he's recovering from a rough nap. So yeah, Mr Angry, that's who he is. But god is it tiring to maintain a single emotion. Must be great for Ghostbur to get a wider range. "So who do you want first?" Deliberation. Then a stubborn sigh. "Phil. I guess." Within a minute, a replica of Phil is standing before them. He's a pretty decent copy of the real man, although he swears those wings should be darker and he's certain Phil's missing the handful of grey hairs his 40s have provided him. Close enough though. Not to mention this is literally only an illusion. Anything Soulbur might want to say to him doesn't matter because Phil's not actually going to hear it. Neither of them can predict how he'll genuinely react to wherever a potential conversation may lead. He comments as much to Ghostbur who comes across as unfazed by this issue. Well, screw it, might as well get it out of the gate. "Kind of a shitty thing you did. And I know that we apparently asked for it but... you didn't have to actually do it." "Go on, don't hold back." The ghost encourages. "I mean, where the hell do you want me to start? Him killing us, the frequent trips away that turned into fucking off indefinitely, the fact I didn't feel like-?" "Not me, him." A groan. "Fine. You agreed to let Tommy stay so he should have been your responsibility more than mine. In my teens, I should have been more preoccupied with dumb things like wanting to have a bunch of friends or catching a girl's attention. Not deciding whether I needed to leave Tommy home alone so we could still eat because you weren't back from another sodding trip yet. You probably know by now but surprise! Fundy was never just some rapidly aging kid I seemed to always be babysitting. Not that you were ever there long enough to press me on that by that point. You know, I didn't realise being a parent had a time limit. By that logic, I should have told Fundy to get on with being an independent adult as soon as he turned 5. Maybe it's a good thing Tommy pretty much chose to live on his own at 16, god forbid I had to spend another 2 or so years frequently looking out for him. I might not have known what I was doing and honestly, could have done with some tips, but at least you already taught me what not to do. God knows why I bothered to offer you a chance to start over with those letters." "I'm sorry." The fake Phil says. "You don't get to choose if he'd actually apologise." "Isn't that what you want?" "It's what you want." Ghostbur's brow furrow with genuine confusion. "And you don't?" "You want some perfect world where things can be fixed with a single conversation so no, I don't want that. Not realisitic." "What do you want from him then?" He takes a long, scrutinising look at the imitation of his pseudo-father before him. Objectively, he is vaguely aware there were many moments of affection that grew sparser the older he got and the more often Phil would go adventuring with Technoblade. He was... loved and he used to love back. Or that is his best guess. He was becoming very close friends with Techno back when they were in their teens too. There's a reason he was never able to fully trust the piglin hybrid during their time in Pogtopia. It was Phil's fault for entrusting him with responsibilities always a little bit too early. But it was Techno's fault for not bringing it up despite the amount of times they left without the other two when Wilbur made it as blatantly clear as he could that he wasn't happy about it. He didn't always shut the door more firmly than he should whenever they bid farewell. And he is sure that, once upon a time, being surrounded by one of Phil's wings was among his favourite places to be. Not anymore. "Guess." He answers. --- It's a week after he talks to 'Phil' that Ghostbur suggests they try the exercise once more. Soulbur begrudgingly accepts. "Oh, I know. How about Tommy? He and I used to hang out. We even went on holiday together." "A holiday?" "Mhmm," Ghostbur nods enthusiastically. "Dream took us on a boat and I did my best not to touch the water even though I like teasing Phil by sticking my hand out when it rains." Faintly, from an intangible distance he can't perceive the length of, alarm bells toll. Dream wasn't the type of guy to randomly send a teenager and his brother's ghost on a holiday abroad. He wouldn't be surprised if there were ulterior motives at play. After all, Dream had practically enabled Wilbur with the TNT stock increase so... he doesn't know what to make of it. One way or another, something didn't add up. However, he is lacking in context and if it's as dubious as he suspects, Soulbur doubts Ghostbur can recall the necessary background intel to complete the full picture. Ghostbur seems like he has more to say on the matter in his ramble but Soulbur jumps in with "Doesn't rain burn you though?" "Well yes but when it's tiny like drizzle, it's all tingly instead. It only really hurts when I touch a lot of it." "Like for example... the ocean." "Yes." He giggles. "But I wasn't going to actually do it. It would have been fun if I could. Phil always makes this face when I try to touch rain. It's like when Alivebur used to sneak a few more berries in his mouth than he was supposed to or when he got his clothes wet by jumping into rivers." "Right. Anyway, let's get Tommy over with." 'Tommy' is, again, a good copy. His hair has grown out which Soulbur suspects may have been something that occurred in his absence. He's not used to this length since Tommy always kept his hair in a flux of 'short and kind of tidy' to 'too annoying and shit'. You know what? This length lowkey suits him. If Soulbur, or more to the point Wilbur, were still alive, he'd say so to the real Tommy's face. But instead, he supposes he has to vent for the sake of the activity. It takes a minute but he is able to think of something. "You shouldn't have acted as my right hand in exile. You did decently during the war and did your part to help with the election. But when it came to exile? You kept opposing the TNT idea but didn't really offer any potential alternative solutions to deal with L'Manburg instead. At one point I think you even came close to unintentionally helping Schlatt with his plans for the sake of a distraction. And shit, Tubbo might have ended up being a bit of a yes man but at least I knew not to fully trust his motives and actions. You were supposed to stick by my side or tell me to get fucked. You did both and neither. You might not be an adult yet but you're certainly not a little boy anymore. If you are going to take a stand, you can't just let yourself be a dissenting bystander. I might have even listened to you if you came up with a viable enough plan to rid our country of tyranny without destroying it for good. But well... too late for that now." Tommy appears dejected. Immediately, Soulbur really wishes his ghostly twin would stop giving these clones feelings when the point of all this was to do it without the actual person they represented knowing what his thoughts were. They would have to sort it out. --- The sun is warm in his field and it's nearly enough to negate the slight universal chill he's slowly begun growing accustomed to. With Soulbur laying near him, Friend grazing somewhere off in the distance and Apple enjoying the sun in the gap between the humans, it's a rare moment but lovely all the same. "Do you ever think about how it was supposed to be over, how we were supposed to be done with everything?" Soulbur speaks up. "No? What do you mean?" "I mean the button. We kept telling Tommy we wouldn't die in the explosion, that the people who'd die were those unfortunate enough to be in L'Man- Manberg when we set it aflame. Never us, no no no. Us, in our little button room? Nah, why would you ever think that? People lied to us, we lied to them back. Nobody's fucking trustworthy. Eret dumped potatoes on us like 'Oh we're the best of friends now and everything's all great between us'. Fuck off, if you think I'd let my guard down around you, especially you, you have another thing coming. Probably wanted to hurt Tommy and I again for the hell of it. And maybe we weren't that far gone by October, maybe we were being honest about not intending to die with our nation. But on the day, we fucked up. I don't know what it was, I think... I think it was the combination of Tubbo being targeted for supposedly having loyalty towards Pogtopia, Schlatt being a prick as usual and everything seeming to happen at once. Whatever happened, we freaked out and couldn't focus enough to realise we needed to take maybe like... five steps forward to find where the entrance to the room was hidden. So we lost our great chance and had to wait for the next one. All that time telling ourselves we just had to get to the 16th and then we'd get what we wanted, all of it for nothing. I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky that it was only an extra month to get worse. When we set a date for war, it gave us a target to aim for. So yeah, we got worse and threw ourself into making sure that this time we would not fail under any circumstance. Who cares about basic things like staying safe and healthy when we knew the when and where of our death? We were like... we were like those people that are terminally ill and their body just loses its appetite the sicker they get. Either way, we got what we wanted and then realised this wasn't what we expected it to be. Screw us for hoping to catch a fucking break, right?" Ghostbur begins questioning why exactly he was going on a rant like this but Soulbur barrels on regardless. "Whenever people speculate about what the afterlife is like, a lot of them imagine it as this great time where you reunite with those you knew who went before you. You all sit in a circle and hold hands and enjoy each other's company, forever. You do that shit forever. Seeing people you cared about sounds nice in theory but in practice? There's a reason you don't stay in the presence of even your favourite person ever 24/7. It's tiring. Fuck that, you know? I don't know whether humans were made to be social for eternity. It's like 'Oh hey Grandma, fancy seeing you here for the trillionth time since I died'. Not for me, thanks. Not for a bunch of people either, I'm sure of it." "You said it was January when you left?" "Yes." "And you're sure about that?" "Yes." "Well that's only two months. And trust me, I might not know how long I've been here but I know it's been far longer than two months. Which means, Ghostbur, which means that time moves faster here. I don't know how much faster, there's no way of working it out, but one thing is for sure, we're going to get more days here than down there. Because... because here's the thing, Ghostbur, here's the thing, it doesn't matter how hard you try to keep count of the days in little notebooks or whatever, because it will get to a point where you don't care if the index number- that's what the little number in the top right corner is called, right? Nobody cares if the number is 8 or 9 by the time you've been here long enough to be counting that high. Who cares if you've been here for 2 times 10 to the power of 6 or- or 5 times 10 to the power of 300 days? One way or another, you'll have been dead for a long, long time. By that point, who gives a shit. The main problem is that it seems the dead are stuck with a longer infinity than the living." "Sometimes- Okay, I'm only admitting this out loud because technically we're the same person and I mean, who are you going to tell, other than Schlatt or Mexican Dream- Friend might also count, I don't know... Same difference. But fuck it, you're not going to tell anyone who actively gives a shit about trying to play the bigger person with the intent of stopping me." He catches his breath. "Sometimes, Ghostbur, sometimes I wonder if I were to collapse this pretend world and leave myself with no protection from the Void, whether that would cause me to lose consciousness. Wouldn't that be interesting? Never having to regain consciousness, just... lights out and then a nap that lasts long enough to see the universe end. Death as it should be." He glances over at Soulbur silently. Speechlessly even because what on earth is he supposed to say after all that? His other half is thoughtfully playing with a poppy still connected to the ground. He is seemingly none the wiser to Ghostbur's lost gaze. "I guess these flowers aren't too bad. Shame I'll get incredibly bored of them eventually." "...I think you need some blue. Let me find you some from my collection." "Believe me, I don't think blue will help in the slightest." "Try it anyway. It helps me." "Well, infinite time to gather infinite resources... I doubt you wasting some on me will make a difference in the long run." He stumbles as he rises. Blue, just focus on making blue. He's laughter and encouragement and an open pair of comforting arms when necessary. He was not made to contemplate the universe or its mysteries. So he'll deliver blue to those who need it. Maybe he'll spare some blue for himself. But Soulbur first, definitely. --- The next week, amongst the suggestions he throws at Soulbur regarding who he should speak to this time, Niki's name gets mentioned. The more volatile half of Alivebur outright refuses to even consider it. His reasoning is that he has nothing to say to her, regardless of how much the real Niki likely has to say to him. Ghostbur doesn't get much of a chance to argue they could speak to Niki without having to criticize her. She appears in their void world either way when Soulbur is gone because who says he can't hang out with his friend? He provides all the ingredients. He lets her be in charge of grounding the wheat into flour since she is much better at it than him. Instead, he is in charge of slicing the apples into segments as equally as he can. The slices that won't go in the cake or on it as part of the decoration will become snacks for Friend. They work well as a team, chatting and laughing together as they prepare it all for baking. "Niki, Alivebur didn't do this often, did he?" "No but it's okay, he was a very busy man." "We should do this regularly. We can do that now." "Sure. It'll be fun." The end product is as delicious as it smells. They sample the result of their hard work, leaving a minimum of half to share with a certain someone. The cliff face never reeked of nicotine in life as far as he's aware. Then again, he has no memories of Alivebur ever considering touching a cigarette while living here. He doesn't expect to recall something like that in the first place but... he believes his point still stands. Apple Pumpkinson is probably lingering in the vicinity since he can't see her right now. He does, however, spot a figure with their knees tucked towards their chest and a glowing burning dot. There is a mix of sniffling and coughing coming from them as well. Part of Ghostbur plans to enquire whether that's simply the result of Soulbur's habit or an indication he isn't feeling great at the moment. Despite not truly wanting to, he decides to leave it. He doubts Soulbur would appreciate the intrusion. So he sticks to his original reason for coming here. "Niki and I baked a cake so here's your share of it. It's got a bunch of apples inside and on top. Don't tell anyone," He chuckles. "But I've already had a taste test. It's very, very good but I might be a little biased." Perhaps when he checks in tomorrow, the cake will have been undisturbed. More for him, he jokes internally. He does hope Soulbur will enjoy the gift though. So when he swings by again the next day to leave a new set of flowers (a bunch of oxeye daisies that were as lovely as they were cheery) and discovers there is no evidence of a baked product ever being delivered, Ghostbur is optimistically hopeful. It was a rather large portion which is why he expects Soulbur not have eaten it in one go. He comes to the conclusion it might be good if he does this more often. --- Having suggested people like Niki (nope, no thanks, he doesn't know if he could manage to look any version of her in the eye) and Eret (no chance in hell, for arguably the inverse reasons), Ghostbur has once again dragged him back to the flower field for one of the talks. It's Fundy this time, though he was incredibly reluctant to accept. There's no trace of war or any sort of strife for that matter on his son. He's in a t-shirt and an open black hoodie, slightly younger than he last recalls so perhaps in his late teens. It's dawningly apparent that this is the boy who was yet to sneak off to join his uncle on an adventure to find somewhere cool, far away. It won't do. Soulbur has things he wants to say but not to this kid who is probably only 17 or 18. The war veteran turned spy wearing a dark jacket with their familiar coloured stripes on the side of the partition appears as his replacement. That's better. "You went behind my back. You not only ran against me in the election, with one of my closest friends might I add, but then attempted to win by committing voter fraud. Not to mention you went on to basically side with Schlatt. I don't care if it was supposed to be a ruse. You still did things that benefitted his cause. I'm not going to go into the fucking flag because I don't feel like being here all day. I know full well showing you basic human decency doesn't mean you're in my debt. But the least you could have done was not turn your back on me the minute you decided you didn't need me anymore. Being in your early 20s doesn't mean you suddenly begin to know what the hell you're doing. I should know!" Ghostbur steps between them, arms thrown out wide. "Fundy is a good son. He's never done anything wrong." "Don't try to debate when you don't have all the evidence." "Well, you shouldn't either then." "Tell me, how great was your relationship as Ghostbur? Because I can't imagine he'd welcome the remnants of his dear old dad back with open arms after all the shit that had just gone down while we were exiled." "I visited him in his home. Phil was there sometimes too." He scoffs at the breezy nonchalance. "Bet that went well." He takes another look at his little boy, not quite as little as he once was, and that's all it takes for him to stop acting pissed off. Four months was a short amount of time for so much to happen to Wilbur. But, likewise, practically just as much happened to Fundy and the others once united under the flag of L'Manburg. Doesn't he know it. And that's exactly why he is positive he cannot stay here a minute longer. "You undoubtedly know where to find me." "Soulbur, wait! You don't have to go. We can-" "I'm tired, Ghostbur. I really don't want to keep doing this. Mostly because it's always been pointless but also, how many times do you want me to get purposefully upset at people we used to care about?" Dejectedly, Ghostbur's gaze diverts to the side as he mumbles out "Cliff or trees?" "Cliff, probably. Apple is there." There is a nod in response and that's all the cue he needs to get the hell out of here. "Do you want to stay up tonight?" He asks his cat. "I can feel it will most likely be a festival kind of thing if I close my eyes. A-And I really can't do that if... Fundy's so close to the front of my mind right now." Speaking of festivals, he thinks he knows who he should have a one sided chat with. But this time, he won't be the one doing the talking. --- He wasn't actually seeking out Soulbur this time. It's an accident that he catches the scene but he's glad to see Tubbo in front of him. It's great that Soulbur was in fact willing to give it a go after all. He felt like it might have slightly been an act, the whole reluctance and instances of hesitation to fully commit. He'll leave them be. If Soulbur wants to do this on his own, Ghostbur is hardly going to breach that privacy. Tubbo takes a breath and it goes downhill from there. "You got me killed. Twice. Your incompetence and neglect to see what was going on got us all killed. You should have realised sooner instead of helping to lead us down to a massacre. In fact, your leadership wasn't what won us the war. It was Tommy sacrificing one of his lives and then both his discs that won us our freedom. And when I trusted you to keep me safe while I risked so much to help you out, you let me die. You lied to me and told me Technoblade was on your side. Look how well that turned out. I was scared out of my mind. I thought you'd at least try to think of a way to help me. But no, you stayed on that roof. Even tried to use the chaos following my execution as a distraction while you ran to the fucking button. You know, it's a shame you destroyed L'Manburg because, even at only 16, I would have made a much bet-." Tubbo cuts off suddenly at the sound of sobbing. He'd tried his best to be silent, he really had. He's not sure why he didn't leave like he'd intended to once Tubbo began talking. Oh and there's Soulbur with that scowl on his face again. "The hell are you doing here, Ghostbur?" "Why are you making him say that? Tubbo wouldn't say that to us." Weary exasperation. "None of them are real, they're just manifestations for the sake of having something to focus on and visualise. What, you'd prefer I switch him to a more suitable individual?" Tubbo morphs into a tall man with unkempt brown hair, a trenchcoat and fingerless gloves. His face bears a matching scowl to Soulbur's one from a moment ago while displaying signs of neglecting basic care... the same sort that, again, Soulbur exhibited. Point made, the third Wilbur dissolves into the air. "You really think that Self Loathing Central is going to thrive positively in a mental capacity by saying things aloud? I'm not the one who needs to sort through his feelings when it comes to harsh truths, Ghostbur. The problem is you seem to be literally incapable of that, given your whole side of the amnesia. Can't help it, I know. But you don't know how- god, if only you knew how goddamn frustrating it is." "I'm sorry. I'm really trying." "Yeah. Me too." Soulbur spits back. The frown remains despite his sharp, conceding exhale. "I just struggle to imagine how we make up the same person sometimes." --- Ghostbur's typically calm, even sunny, demeanour changes to a frown. Okay... he questions whether he's gone too far, given that his counterpart's mood has now tipped into frustrated. Well, either way, he pissed people off in life and he's still continuing to piss them off (although now it's technically himself, in this scenario) in death. This isn't really anything new. Shit, he's even managed to push Ghostbur to a fleeting bout of frustrated anger once before. But this isn't fury, not yet. "Okay, why are you so mean? You are always angry or sad or- or bitter. It's like... what's the phrase? It's like talking to a brick wall. I don't like it." "You don't like a lot about me. Your point?" "My point is be more nice. I just want to get along." "So you can betray me again?" "I never betrayed you! I know Alivebur did a lot of bad th-" "Forget Alivebur." Soulbur spits. Okay, he supposes this is getting quite real now. Fuck knows where this will end up but who cares right now. "Never mind what wrong we did while alive. Right now this is about what you did. You specifically." "But we are the same person." "We are two halves of the same person, yes. Unequal halves at that. Which is your fault." "I never did anything." "Oh my god. Are you serious?!" He starts pacing slightly. Fingers make their way through his hair, stopping halfway, then join their respective arms in being thrown to the sky. He almost seems to be addressing the sun with his next words. "Do you hear that? Do you- do you bloody hear that? He never did anything wrong. Sweet, innocent, harmless Ghostbur is absolutely incapable of wrongdoing." Now whipping back to the ghost. "Why do you want to fuse? Be honest." "Well um, people need Alivebur back. I can't be him. So we need to-" "Go back down there? Yeah, sure, we planned to end up here after destroying L'Manburg but we'll just start living again as if the last few months of our life didn't happen. As if we didn't... Fuck." "But we can live again. Just different." "And that's the problem, isn't it, you being the one willing to live? You know what I want from a hypothetical fusion? To be whole. I want to have all our fucking memories in one spot, to remember what it was like to be goddamn happy. But no, can't risk that, especially now I'm sure you'll do the one thing I don't want you to." He can tell Ghostbur is attempting to formulate a counterpoint to this outburst. He doesn't allow him to. Besides, the ghost had been pushing him to vent at various 'friends' and, in Soulbur's opinion, there was one person who could do with targeting more than the others. Funnily enough, they were already standing right in front of him. "Do you know what it's like to be betrayed by someone you considered a friend?" No answer. "No? Well, I do. I know exactly what that's like because we thought Eret was loyal to L'Manburg's cause. If there were any red flags to be caught, we missed them all. People died. Kids died. In that room, I think we might have been one of the last to go, or at least lose consciousness. Being left to bleed out is bad enough. It's worse when you have enough time to realise how young the others were. We were left there with a couple of 16 years old, one of whom was our little brother we practically raised by ourself, and then our very own son. I'm sure you remember what it was like to watch Tommy and Fundy grow up though, don't you?" "Yeah." It leaves Ghostbur's mouth barely above the threshold for human hearing. "I don't, not really. But I do know we loved them. And I also remember seeing them stiller than we should have ever seen them. I'm not sure how exactly Tubbo died but there was certainly a ridiculous amount of blood around him. Fundy, I'm not too sure about either but Tommy, god Tommy. He was trying to escape Dream and fell, hit his head hard enough to die probably instantly. He was just- He was just lying there for a little while before his body registered it still had more lives and began the respawning process. And then the duel... that arrow hit him right in the chest and he simply stumbled back then dropped. More blood than I want to recall. You know what makes it worse? Those two deaths happened on the exact same day." "Do you know what it's like to watch all your friends leave you?" Again, no verbal response. This time though, there is a frown as Ghostbur recognises his twin was here to shame him. "No? Of course not. Listen, I admit that maybe I helped by refusing to fully trust anyone again but all they did was prove my point. You can't fault me for looking out for number one." "That sounds selfish." "It is not selfish to practise self preservation or wanting to make sure you don't repeat mistakes that had fatal consequences." "You're the reason everyone hated Alivebur." "We are both Wilbur. We are both responsible for everything he did or was. The only difference is that I am the one who remembers Pogtopia and you don't." "Why are you acting like it's my fault? I didn't do anything." "Because it is your fault, Ghostbur! You are literally the reason we split, the reason I've been stuck in this hellhole of a limbo with no decent memories to balance out the bad or even traumatic ones. You took that from me. You and only you. I thought I could rid the world of L'Manburg and everything that made it doomed to inevitably fail, myself included, then hopefully find some peace for the first time in who knows how long. But no. No, you had to decide you weren't as done with it all as I was. You took everything I wanted. You... you..." "You're being unfair. Who's to say you weren't the one who caused our split?" "Because I remember it. Unlike you, it seems." Soulbur's fury falters for a moment as this truth becomes apparent. This pause doesn't last long. "Oh, of course you wouldn't remember it. Why should I expect you to remember the most important moment of our post-death?! You are hopeless." "I'm not." Ghostbur's face is half covered in cornflower blue rivers flowing from his eyes. "You are. I would give anything to be whole again without needing to fuse with you. If I knew how to take those good memories back and leave you with as little as you left me, I think I would." "No, you're just lying to make me feel bad. Stop it. Just stop it." "Fucking make me." Ghostbur vigorously wipes his tears away, inevitably smearing the rich colour across his desaturated face. He's snivelling too as he pretends he's not in breaking down into whimpers. In another situation, if he saw Ghostbur like this, he would show sympathy. But at this very moment, with his wrath no longer kept at bay? He's almost inclined to call the sight before him pathetic. "You are a 24 year old man, stop acting like you're 4 and the world's ending because you scraped your knee." "Why are you acting like this?" "Because I want you to take responsibility for the misery you've forced me to endure! I've tried to keep a level head, god knows I have tried not to take it out on you too much, but I don't know how much longer I can keep this act up. You know, I keep seeing the people I cared about dead. If I think about L'Manburg for a few seconds too long, I end up watching the thing that was supposed to symbolise safety from back when I still had faith in it get destroyed over and over again. I can't stop thinking about how everyone turned their back on me, only to end up doing it to myself. For- for you to end up doing that to me." God damn it, why the hell can't his voice stay steady right now? "Do you understand how horrible that was? So grow up and show that you're sorry. Just saying it won't do. You have to prove it." Through the tears that had sprung from his own eyes, he can see the ghost has screwed his eyes shut tight with blocked ears. Oh, this was ridiculous. Soulbur grabs his counterpart's hands in an effort to pry them from the side of his head. "Stop acting like you can simply run from everything." There's more fuel to keep this fight going at his disposal but he doesn't get a chance to continue. Ghostbur tugs forcefully to free his hands. Unfortunately for both of them, it's too late. What's done is done. --- Wilbur wasn't used to having such a gathering. The only people who he could expect to be found in the house somewhere were Tommy and Phil. Technoblade too, as of his arrival in their lives a few months ago. He was technically in his early teens but Wilbur guesses piglin hybrids matured sooner than humans since he appeared to be approximately at the beginning of adulthood. Either way, the three people he lived under the same roof as weren't the only ones here today. He tended to hang out with his friends from the village instead of the other way around. It was far more convenient for him to make the short journey to them than all of them individually visiting him together. Yet here they all were, ready to celebrate today with him. And no, Tommy, he does not have a crush on any of the girls in the group. You even try to insinuate that in front of everyone today and you will find crumbs in the most annoying spots on your bed. Presents are exchanged while Phil dithers in the kitchen, awaiting his cue. He wouldn't say he had a bad go of it this year. He was definitely not expecting the newly forged diamond sword. These arrows are great as well. And oh, was that the cake Phil was bringing out? His arm comes too close to the cake as he goes to blow out the candles, eliciting a "Wil!" from his father. What the hell is he- oh shit. Fuck, his hoodie sleeve is on fire. Not good, not good at all. Shit, shit, shit. Stop staring at it. Do something, idiot. Uh... uh water. Kitchen. Dump it in the sink. Better dump it on the floor and stamp on that soggy piece of shit too for good measure. Remembering himself, he returns his attention to the others. "Um, I think the problem's solved." "You will be the death of me, you know that?" Phil takes a long exhale. There's also a laugh that sounds like someone coming down from stress. Which, he supposes, it is. "Just put it to the side somewhere and come have the cake. Preferably without setting yourself alight again." "Got it." Luckily for everyone, the rest of the cake section of the day goes off without a hitch. Wilbur animatedly chatters with his mates as they eat. He's not entirely sure how they end up at the topic of swimming. "Well, there's the river nearby. We should go there after this. Screw the 60 minute rule." Tommy's head perks up. "Can I come too?" "Obviously." "Guys..." Phil sighs. This weariness is met with a grin. "You only turn 16 once, Phil." Hand gripping his 8 year old brother's one, they sprint towards the water. Wilbur steps back a few paces once they get there so he can do a run up before entering the water in a cannonball position. Hair dripping, he encourages Tommy to do the same. His friends leap in at their own pace. One even pushes a mutual friend in, which only leads to a shriek that gets cut off abruptly then a string of words the youngest member of the party probably shouldn't be hearing. "Oi, Wil!" He turns to one of his friends, only to receive a faceful of water. "Happy birthday." "Oh, you fucker. Hey everyone, gang up on Mark." A war ensues that ends up with all of them getting their faces wet, some even have their heads dunked underwater. By the end of the day, there aren't enough towels to meet the demand. Either way, Wilbur's beaming, even as he deals with his soggy fringe in the middle of saying goodbye to all his guests. Pretty decent birthday, he'd say. --- It's not that Wilbur hasn't been freezing before, because he has, even outside of some dumb tundra. The main difference right now was that it was February and Phil had decided this was the perfect time of year to be in a place like this. He'd moaned and grumbled about it yet his father was having none of it. At least he'd been allowed his fair share of opportunities to pummel Phil with snowballs. There seemed to be an endless supply of ammunition here. Snow was also fun to run across sometimes. It was usually thick enough for him not to slip on the underlying ice too. So that's why, after getting temporarily distracted by a polar bear sighting, he dashes back to Phil's side without a second thought. There is less friction between his feet and the ground here. They really should have considered the ratio of ice to snow before any pounding transferral of body weight had been made. Neither he nor Phil had paid full attention to all of the increased risks until Wilbur was already in the water. He splutters. He kicks. He sinks and manages to drag himself back up again and again. And oh man, is it cold. Worse than cold. He wants to breathe, please let him stay upright long enough to catch a breath. His arms hurt too. They really, really do. It's like they're getting stabbed a bunch by icicles. Everything feels stabby like that, actually. He hates this. His mouth keeps getting hints of freezing salt too which is awful. Where's Phil? He's too busy trying not to bob down again to fully see. There's shouting though. "Wil! Wil, I swear to god, just calm down. Don't let the cold shock mess with you." 'Easy for you to say' is what he would bark back if he wasn't desperately trying his best to keep his head above the surface. "Wilbur, trust me, you're going to become a block of ice at the bottom if you keep reacting to the cold like that. Hang onto the edge and let yourself get used to the cold. That's it." He's still treading water a little too diligently when his body finally stops freaking out about the temperature so much. Phil will likely scold him for wasting energy like this. Not like he wasn't floundering in a panic a minute ago. Yeah no, Phil's totally going to have a go for that too. Wilbur was taught all this stuff when they got here. He should know exactly how to react in a situation like this. What if Phil hadn't been here? What would he do then, huh? Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Good, good. Now do your best to become horizontal." In the water, he forgets how to reposition his body. All his focus is on trying to move his legs accordingly and maintaining a secure enough grip on the ice. Glances towards Phil show that he's laying flat on his stomach as he instructs him. Something, something, surface area or spreading your body weight or whatever, right? When Wilbur has completed this next step, Phil slides a pickaxe over to him. Fumbling frozen fingers nearly allow it to slip under the water, out of reach. His co-ordination is practically non-existent right now but he still manages to position a tip of the pick into the ice. Dragging himself across to Phil is an arduous task but at least he's out of the water. They're on their stomachs until Phil feels absolutely sure they are not at risk of history repeating itself. After that point, he follows the man's lead by standing up with some help. He's barely on his feet when an external force is dragging his body in a direction he wasn't anticipating once more. Yet this time, he's in no real danger. It's just arms keeping him pressed against a heavy coat. Phil's shaking but not for the same reasons as him. "Christ sake, Wil. Try to be more careful next time. Otherwise I'll end up keeling over right here in the middle of nowhere." They reposition after a minute. Wilbur's hand is around Phil's waist while the winged man's grip secures itself to his son's left shoulder. Neither will drift far from each other like this. "You doing relatively alright, at least?" He hums briefly in response. Oh wow, that does not feel good. Vibrations are getting temporarily banned from his throat thanks. "Okay, let's get a move on then." "Okay. Ki- Kinda tired." Nope, nope, nope. "Can't- can't t-talk." He mumbles as they begin walking. "Shiv- shiverin' n' naus- naus-" "Nausea? Shivering and talking makes you feel nauseous?" The overwhelming tremors cause him to nod his head rapidly which is probably the most counterintuitive side effect he's ever experienced. Phil softly chuckles while drawing him in even closer with his arm. "Well, don't talk then, Wil. We'll sort out the shivering soon. After that, you can collapse in a heap on your bedding if you want." "Warn- warning. Just in... case." It's a struggle but he can't not communicate things that may be of importance. "Alright, alright. Thanks for the thought but you really should go easy on yourself, okay? It's not that far." Phil gets the fire going as soon as they return to their base. Wilbur simply sits there, desperately hoping his brain will stop sending signals to his throat and stomach to potentially prepare for a collaboration. His soaked clothes are stripped from him and replaced with blessedly dry ones. Any available blankets are piled on him for good measure. The past hour or so finally registers in full as Phil helps rub his arms through the layers in an effort to warm him up. "Pretty scary, wasn't it?" His father comments in response to the sudden bout of sobbing. "Try not to fall into anymore frozen water next time, alright? Don't think my heart could take another shock like that." "Do m'best." "Good lad." Phil smiles. "That's all I ask." He wipes a scalding tear off the boy's cheek as it comes cascading down. He'll sit with him and help discard of more tears hours from now when Wilbur wakes from visions of unending water or his mind fools him into believing he is caught in trembles that refuse to cease. And when it comes, Phil's decision to leave the tundra couldn't have brought more relief to Wilbur. --- It was odd. Soulbur had retained the part with the fire. He recalled the heat, the instinctual panic he felt upon realising he was in danger. He'd been able to somewhat be aware of when it had happened, that that disastrous moment had occurred during his 16th birthday. Although, that had been the extent of it. There were no birthday cakes or messing around in the water or well meaning banter amongst those he considered friends. He had even been oblivious to the identities of anyone who may have been present. When your safety and wellbeing are jeopardised, the last thing you're concentrating on is useless information like whether or not your father is standing beside you. So this was the kind of moments Ghostbur had hoarded for himself, was it? It feels so good. It's been too long since the last time he laughed. For a second, he can almost recall the feeling of drawing his stomach in as fuels for giggles and the pull of muscles as the corner of lips spread upwards. He waits for the inevitable withdrawal of it from his reach. His brain will go against him by discarding of the anomaly it just registered. Any second now. Maybe? ...No? Clearly, not enough time has elapsed. There is no point in getting his hopes up like an idiot. Except, he wants to. He desperately wishes this is not a fluke due to be rectified the moment he lets his guard down. It... isn't, apparently. And for the first time since he'd been abandoned in death, Soulbur kept a pleasant memory. It's not enough, a greedy part of him decides. No, he thinks Ghostbur needs to learn how to share. Surely there is more stored in the ghost's head than he needs. He won't miss a few more. Besides, why should that traitorous bastard get all the good stuff? Not to mention, they were as much his memories as they were Ghostbur's. They should have equal rights to them. All that seems to be required is a brief bit of skin contact. So that's what he'll do. Soulbur doesn't believe he has ever been the type of person to be all touchy-feely, not that he's particularly had the opportunity to prove otherwise, but for the sake of a few memories? Well, what's an occasional hand on the shoulder or pat on the back in the general scheme of things?