#my brother has a really bad habit of doing it and being really self destructive whenever he wrongs someone

[todayisafridaynight]

hi its "almost died as an infant" aoki stan anon again. im still thinkin about what to say medical wise BUT U GUYS HIT THE NAIL ON THE HEAD ABT HIS DEATH like im already frustrated with the "redemption by honorable death" thing that the game keeps doing (east asia has such high suicide rates i dont think its a very responsible narrative to continue telling in general tbh) but especially for a disabled character who had every right to feel vulnerable and betrayed and get a little evil. hes not Right but hes very Understandable and relatable. but then he still chose to live on and face the consequences (ARGUABLY HARDER AND MORE RESPONSIBLE. A GOOD EXAMPLE AND EXPECTATION TO SET especially for a POLITICIAN) and then they kill him anyway with some fuckin BULLSHIT EXCUSE and i feel like its partially because nobody can be bothered to put the effort into continuing a compelling and morally grey disabled narrative and it. hurts to be cast aside like that. especially after they made such a big deal about ichiban being a NEW protagonist/saga with a NEW identity and then. you still just gave me nishiki 2.0. you retold me the exact same story and used a blatant asspull to FORCE it to be the same story and give ichiban a dead brother figure to lament over for the next 5 games???? rgg i thought you wanted him to be different from kiryu???? sigh. it better be a fakeout and he resurfaces perfectly fine in a few games like kashiwagi or else i'm going to start scaling the walls of the rgg office and dismantling it piece by piece

hey howdy. can we call you MAS (medical aoki stan) ima call you mas cause i'd like to hear *mas from you haha gottem

BUT YEAH NO YOU'RE RIGHT. like i joke that ichi and aoki were kiryu and nishiki 2.0 but at least with nishiki, his death was like. .2% more valid while aoki's it's like..... rage. anger. death. i hate it here. this was so fucking stupid there was literally no need for this other than to fill a quota and try to make a "ichi really is the heir to kiryu's legacy" statement. LIKE ICHI IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE NEW FACE, GIVE HIM SOMETHING DIFFERENT- LET HIM KEEP HIS BROTHER SO THEY CAN PURSUE THE FUTURE TOGETHER THIS TIME

it's especially more upsetting regarding aoki as "being cast aside" because we can discern that was a huge thing for him and was a big reason why he turned out the way he did- being seen as useless or something that could easily be disposed off, so for the narrative to do just that right at the very end when it looked as though it was promising him a better future is just so...... rgg you're always so close but not close enough im going to strangle you

[nyanashima]

The Brothers with an MC who has OCD

INCREDIBLY self-indulgent as I haven't seen many OCD MC posts, and I needed some blorbo comfort.

Since OCD is often misrepresented in media, feel free to write in with other obsessions/etc if you feel so inclined. I'll try my best to write about them in another post :)

Content warnings: contamination triggers, symmetry/perfection obsessions, self-destructive compulsions. Stay safe y'all <3

Please let me know if I missed any triggers in the tags!

Lucifer

He already knows.

Lucifer read up on you before you came. He knows what you struggle with and how it affects you, at least to some degree. He has to do Diavolo proud, and that includes staying on top of the exchange student’s wellbeing.

It's through living with you that really helps Lucifer get a better understanding of your triggers. After all, you can only get so much from reading the DSM-5

He sees you erase and rewrite your notes in class, over and over, until you’re completely behind on the lecture. He hovers silently in the doorway to the kitchen, watching you arrange the dishes symmetrically in the cupboard

He notices your hands, dry and cracked and sometimes bleeding from washing and sanitizing. He sees your midnight laundry runs after Mammon makes himself at home in your room, and how the bleach wipes disappear much faster than they did before. Lucifer watches your breathing quicken for all the wrong reasons when Asmo hangs off your arm.

He feels bad. It’s not like he can comfort you, with him being emotionally constipated and all. So he does the next best thing: problem solve.

Lucifer calls you to his study one night. You poke your head in, anticipating some sort of punishment— instead, he invites you to sit down for an honest conversation.

He doesn’t pry. As a private person, he understands keeping your emotions guarded. He does, however, make it clear he sees the toll they're taking on you.

He offers treatment— if you’re unmedicated, would you like to see someone for the anxiety? Would you benefit from therapy? He’d be happy to accompany you to the human world for your appointments, if that’s what you need.

Of course, lecturing his brothers about their behaviour is always on the table.

If none of those sound right, he finds himself staring at his gloves. He offers to update your wardrobe to something that better suits your needs— your jacket buttoning in the middle rather than off to one side, gloves to avoid direct touch, you name it. It’s yours.

“I want to help you, MC. Not out of pity, I simply don’t want to see a loved one in pain. Tell me what you need, and you’ll get it— you have my word.”

Mammon

Hoo boy.

Yeah, you’re gonna have to tell him, or ask Lucifer to tell him for you.

He’s a tactile guy. He’s always dragging you by the arm, yanking your jacket, ruffling your hair, and Devil knows what else.

Once you tell him, you’re probably gonna have to explain it a bit. It’s been a while since he’s paid attention to human emotions lol.

After that, he’s fantastic– well, he tries. Old habits die hard.

He recoils like he just touched a hot stove the second his fingers brush your skin. He always follows it up with a “Shit– sorry.”

If you’re particular about how you keep your room, again, he tries not to touch anything impulse control strikes again.

He will get it eventually, but for the first little while it’s probably best to hang out in his room.

If you don’t want the others to know, he’ll be even more protective than before when they get touchy. It’s hard to bite his tongue, but he’ll play it off like his usual possessiveness. He’s surprisingly good at keeping it a secret.

If you’re fine with them knowing, he will NOT hesitate to give them an earful. You’re his human, and nobody touches you unless you say it’s okay!

Doesn’t really understand the symmetry or perfection stuff, but hey, everyone’s different. He’ll wait for you if you have to bump your other shoulder against the doorframe until it’s even.

Overall very supportive. A little confused, but he’s got the spirit.

“…Huh. Well, as yer first, it’s still my job to take care of ya. That means this, too– so don’t think The Great Mammon’s gonna let it bother ya again, y’hear?”

Leviathan

Picks up on it a little, but doesn’t quite connect the dots

Not super familiar with human mental illnesses… He’d notice some of your unusual behaviours, but assume they’re just quirks.

Somehow fails to realize some of his quirks are because he’s neurodivergent too (it’s okay buddy we’ve all been there)

TOTALLY understands when you tell him. Well, kind of. At first he thinks you just don’t want him touching you, but after you explain it he’ll rant with you for hours. It’s not the same as the existential dread that comes from lending someone a pencil, but he gets being particular and nervous about your stuff.

He’ll get a special blanket for you to sit on while gaming in his room, only for your ass and therefore your germs. Will get you your own controller for the same reason (and maybe a matching one for himself teehee). No one else is allowed to touch your stuff, not even him— he’ll pick them up with gloves or a Kleenex if he needs to move them, even when you’re not around.

I don’t really have much more to say about him? Just tell him what you need him to do and he’ll do it without hesitation. Super respectful and understanding.

“Y’know… You don’t have to feel bad about it, okay? You’ll always be my Henry, so as long as we can still play games and stuff, I’m happy. And even if we can’t! I’ll do what I can to make you more comfortable, so you can always hide out in here if outside becomes too much… AARAARRUGHGHHUG DSJVNALVBSLKJN WHAT AM I SAYING that was so cringe forget I said anything ok bye”

Satan

Surprisingly, he doesn’t diagnose you the second you fall through the portal.

Instead, he watches you go about your day, and notices something’s off. Then he researches.

And then he does tests.

Not exactly the most empathetic guy, considering the fact that he, y’know, tortured people. So at first he’s not opposed to giving you a spit wash. He wants to see how you’ll react, and how much you can take.

Once you get closer, he catches on and starts acting according to what he thinks you need.

He’ll set cutlery aside for you when he does the dishes, he’ll leave your laundry alone when you forget it in the dryer (but nag you to come get it so he can swap out his clothes), et cetera.

If you open up to him about it, his curious nature takes hold. Hope you’re ready for an interrogation interview, because he’s got LOTS of questions.

Lets you vent to him and will bitch in return. He’s neurodivergent as fuck so likelihood is he gets irked by the same stuff

“MC, I’ve lived with my brothers for millennia. If you think some odd habits are going to bother me, you’re sorely mistaken. All that matters is that you’re happy. If you ever need anything, please come to me first. I’ll do everything in my power to help.”

Asmodeus

Doesn’t really get it, but he’ll go along and be respectful.

He’ll have a hard time not getting touchy at first, but like Mammon, he jerks away and apologizes once he catches himself.

Kicks himself every time because consent is suuuuper important to him (same with the other bros but. Y’know). Learns to keep his hands to himself pretty quick

Gives you tons of lotions, salves, and moisturizers to keep your hands in good shape if they get dry from washing

Will modify your spa days to make them more comfortable for you

Interrogates you about your clothing needs.

What textures work best for you?

Are there any patterns or cuts you can’t wear, or any you prefer?

Tell him everything. He’ll keep it in mind when dressing you up

Will not hesitate to tear someone to shreds if they say anything rude to you. He can pinpoint someone’s biggest insecurities in two seconds flat, and he will.

He might not understand, but that doesn’t stop him from loving and protecting you fiercely and unconditionally.

“Oh, hon, why didn’t you say so before! I’ll try to keep my hands to myself from now on. It’ll be hard, though, considering just how cute you are~!”

Beelzebub

This boy…

He loves his family. We know this.

Beel’s devoted quite a bit of time to learning about how his brothers’ brains work. He’s probably one of the most prepared and mindful of the bunch.

When you tell him, he accepts it without question.

He’ll prod for more information, if you’re willing to share, but gets it if you don’t wanna talk about it. If you do, he’ll listen for hours.

Loves to learn about you, period. OCD can be such a complex and significant piece of someone’s feelings and behaviour, so while he doesn’t like the parts that upset you, he’ll take in any information you give. He remembers every single word and puts it all to use. Just wants you to feel more at ease

Examples of things I think he’d do:

Put the dishes away symmetrically when it’s his turn to wash them, and push them into place if he notices they’ve shifted

Put takeout onto a clean plate for you so you don’t have to touch the container

If he sees any of your things laying about the house, he’ll use the dog poop maneuver to pick it up with a plastic bag and stick it in your room so no one else touches it

He’s just. Really thoughtful. And he loves you so much

“Alright, I think I get it. That must be hard. I’m here if you need to talk, okay?”

Belphegor

Doesn’t really notice lol. Unless you’re recoiling every time he goes to touch you, he’s clueless

Familiar with human mental illness, but may need a refresher. It’s been a while since he’s seen a human, or, y’know, been allowed outside

Will IMMEDIATELY stop touching you as soon as you set your boundaries. Belphie is very good at breaking habits and doesn’t really rely on one specific way of showing affection, so it is what it is

He’s bummed if you can’t nap with him, of course. It doesn’t take him long to find a workaround, though— he gives you two stuffed animals. You cuddle one until it smells like you, then give it to him and take the other one. He snuggles the first until it loses its “MC smell,” washes it, and gives it back to you. You give him the second one, and the cycle continues

Can’t really empathize, but he can offer a shoulder to cry on and a “that sucks” when you need it. Great listener until he falls asleep lmao

Belphie isn’t considerate in the way Beel is, but he’s still considerate. The difference is energy, really— he can’t really put in much effort, but he does remember what your triggers are and to be respectful. So while he won’t reorganize any shelves for you, he’ll remind his brothers of little things to make your life easier.

“Damn that’s crazy. Anyway”

“Oh, okay. That kind of makes sense. Is there… anything you want me to do?”

[theradicalkanji]

I have a bad habit of making my DND character's (at least ones in longer campaigns and not just one shots) have tragic backstories. I've mentioned my sparkbug's tragic backstory but not my centaur's.

When Vaun entered the campaign he was introduced as the twin brother of the centaur chieftain's heir. The title of chieftain isn't a patrilineal thing, but Diarmud (Vaun's bro) is absolutely being groomed for the mantle. He's the biggest, baddest, strongest warrior in the tribe. He's got the respect of the clan and everyone expects him to take over.

Vaun meanwhile has been focused on doing everything in his power to help his brother succeed to the point that he hasn't done anything for himself and really hasn't gotten any acknowledgement or respect from his tribe or his peers.

Both physically and personality wise, Vaun is Diarmud's opposite. Diarmud is huge and strong. He's massive and muscular. His horse half is an enormous Clydesdale. Vaun is much smaller and sleeker. His horse half is more of a thoroughbred. He's also very quiet and soft spoken.

Even color wise they are incredibly different. Diarmud has black hair and a dark coat of fur. Meanwhile Vaun has long, flowing pink hair with a light chest it brown coat.

It's understandable that people don't think they're twins ... Because they're not.

Vaun is from a neighboring tribe. Diarmud's tribe, the faolan, is from the mountains and thrive in the harsh, rocky environment. Vaun's tribe was from the Highlands at the base of the mountain. The large, rolling grasslands are perfect for herding and his tribe were known for their skill with raising cattle and sheep.

They were nearly completely wiped out by raiders. The faolan, self appointed protectors of the Highlands, arrived and quickly slaughtered the raiders, but it was too late to save the tribe. There were only a handful of survivors, one of which was Vaun. The chieftain had a son that was much the same age as Vaun, and so he took Vaun in and adopted Vaun into his family.

Vaun has no real memories of his tribe. He just has the stories that others have told him and so he finds himself daydreaming about what his life would have been like if he had been free to grow up on the plains, and has created maybe a romanticized ideal of what his tribe used to be. He's got a natural talent for farming and a love of animals as well as an uncanny ability to tame even the most unruly beasts. His talents would be perfect for a plains centaur, but his father doesn't see these skills. He holds Vaun up to the standards of the faolan which value strength of arms above all else.

Vaun wishes he could earn his father's respect, but it's hard when everything he's good at is seen as pointless by the warlike faolan. To make matters worse, Vaun's brother is the pinnacle of martial prowess.

The destruction of the plains tribe is also a sore point for the chieftain. He sees it as one of his biggest failures both as a warrior and as a leader. Whether or not the chieftain projects any of this onto Vaun is irrelevant because Vaun projects it onto himself. Vaun knows that he is a walking reminder of failure.

Vaun has nothing but love and respect for the man who saved him and raised him but doesn't feel he'll ever be worthy of him. This leaves Vaun stuck between feeling like he'll never be good enough for his new family and feeling like he's missing the life he should have had if his tribe hasn't been massacred.

It's funny and fitting that the other players at the table have made Vaun the de facto party leader since Vaun would never believe that his skills would be something anyone would want in a leader. A powerful healer and a shrewd tactician, he's focused on making sure everyone of his teammates get home safely.

Also his busted high animal handling stat has saved the day a hilariously high number of times.

[tenrose]

You know before university I was never a big TV shows kind of person (with some exceptions). Then I was here and at the same time ignoring my student duty and I got into a lot of TV shows at the same time. Then a few years ago, like around 2016 I think, a big shift happened and I gradually watched less and less TV shows. Then of course work, and given the fact that my work requires starring intensely at a screen for hours despite my eyesight, I admit that I don't really want to stare more at a screen when I'm home (well except my phone is right now calling me a hypocrite but unfortunately it's a bad addiction) and also I have no time. Add to the fact that a lot of TV shows are reboot, massive capitalist money maker with absolutely no substance just milking a big franchise to the last dry vein, adaptation of books because nobody who has an original idea can be a screenwriter anymore, and really you can understand why I slowly lost interest. I'm just tired to the chore. It's sad that capitalism exhaust literally every aspect of my life including hobbies. So anyway in the meantime I have been addicted to uninteresting shit on my phone (yeah it's a screen) and compulsed to keep doing this self destructive behaviour (not including Tumblr I'm fine here, it's not destructive for me since I'm way less present than before) and having no hobbies. Sometimes tried to watch some TV shows but my attention span seemed to be dead outside of work. And I was a bit frustrated to not be able to feel the addiction thing.

And of course reading. Because, unlike TV shows I have been a reader since childhood. Wasn't allowed to watch that much TV (it changed so much for my third brother...), so I only had books. But then a few years back, I read less and less to the point in the last years I wasn't able to read and this shit hurt me so much more than being unable to watch a show. Not being able to read is like losing myself. But finally after months of exercise I'm here, I read, I forget to do things cause I'm reading, I still have this bad habit to go to bed way too late for alarm the next morning but not because of my phone! And the best part is that I managed to go back to reading different things that I was used to before, and damn I feel so much more happier than before. I don't feel frustrated anymore. I don't care anymore about not watching TV shows. I didn't care before, I don't care now. Books are so much better anyway. I prefer the images from my brain over any images on a screen anyday (I'm only low-key sad that I have never been able to draw lmao). Plus, the universe of reading is so vast, way beyond american stories. I don't care anymore about not being in a conversation about the latest trending TV show, but I care about not being able to talk about I loved or not a book for hours. In conclusion I need a book club/discord whatever. But I need to be sociable... And also even though I'm happy to read now, I feel a bit ashamed to be beyond everyone else I could discuss with because of my "traversée du désert". Anyway regardless I'm happy to read now. I love books ❤️

[alltheotherfairies]

bylergiftexchange2022 - plain text version

Hiiii @hiddenbarinapocketdimension sorry this is a day late, my dinky little chromebook's motherboard literally broke in the middle of making it + I could only get to the library and use the computers there today but, hey, at least the date's pretty perfect, happy vol. 2 release day! I slightly altered the 'Mike and Will rebuild Castle Byers together' prompt, adding some of my own headcanons. I hope you enjoy! (also, I listened to the glee soundtrack while writing some parts of it, so that's officially my excuse if it's bad lmao)

This has been super fun & a great challenge, and I'm really glad I chose to participate in this exchange. Thanks @robins-schmuck for being such a great coordinator, please let me know if you ever do another one!

tw/ very long, crying, loneliness, childhood, laboratory mentions, gore, organs, panic & panic attacks, blood, brief mentions of crime scenes, a heart stopping (no one dies, it's just a very elaborate metaphor), death mentions, shame, swearing, f slur, the word stupid, poison mentions (again, metaphorical), bullet/gun mentions (metaphorical), lying mentions, mentions of ugliness, mentions of killers/murder (metaphorical, I'm beginning to think I have too many metaphors), destruction (I mean, it's heavily centric around the "It's not my fault you don't like girls!"/Castle Byers destruction scenes, so if you couldn't handle those, for which I do not blame you, you might want to sit this one out), rain, baseball bats, not being able to breathe (see: panic attacks), homophobia, internalized homophobia

Will Byers constantly feels alone. Will has days where he feels as if he's lost his entire childhood. Like it just passed him by. He realizes this isn't true, at least not entirely—three years isn't a full childhood, and yet. He, forever weeping in a monstrous place, be it an alternate dimension, blindingly white laboratory, or even what he had previously considered to be the ultimate safe space crafted by his and his brother’s shaking hands; had no adventures, no privilege of seeing it all from afar, no new friends or bonding experiences, no typical conversations at family dinners, no shot at normalcy, no dependability, no shoulders, within the monstrosities, to weep on besides his own.

He knows his childhood was not absorbed by his anguish, but, if that were to be the case, he would have no explanation for why he would cry sometimes. How he would try, in vain, to cling to old hobbies, old habits, old feelings, try to cling to, go back to, his childhood. How he would, as if gasping for air after having one’s head pressed below the sea, come to the realization that he could not go back, that it was gone. How he would cry then, violently, whimpers soon turning into wails. He had no answer. It was easier to blame it on all that had happened, rather than looking inward. Sometimes scents will take him back to his youth. There will be certain friends he cannot bring himself to talk to anymore, for so long that phone calls will have to become reunions. His mom's runny mashed potatoes, the nostalgia of them, will retroactively become the best food he's ever tasted. How he would cry then, violently, whimpers soon turning into wails. He had no answer. It was easier to blame it on all that had happened, rather than looking inward. 

Will's heart nearly bursts out of his body in panic, blood spraying all over the walls like a crime scene, the vital organ sputtering to pulsating nothingness on his bedroom floor, when Jonathan, his brother and the single person he trusts more than anyone in the universe not to hurt him, emerges behind him to mess up his hair or give him a reassuring pat him on the shoulder, comforting actions that result in burst and bloody chests. He wants to turn back the clock, he wants to go down to Mike's (sort of musty, he wasn’t going to lie) basement and spend fourteen straight hours playing D&D. He wishes to revert to his childhood self. To be safe. Or, at the very least, to not be aware of possible unsafety. Now, he interacts with the world not as himself, but as an echo of who he once was, what he could be before he learned what it was like to die.

The minutes rolled away. The days had been so much interchangeable, he stopped noticing the months pass. And, all throughout that time, he has remained largely alone. He feels socially unacceptable among even his friends, among especially his friends. He does not tell them this. He always has felt shameful while being seen in the gesture of wanting anything and everything he could not have.

And, he realizes, maybe he was wrong. He can go back to the past, can go whenever he wants. But there is no one there anymore.

He longs for his friends.

Most significantly, he longs for, misses the days when Mike wasn’t being such a complete douche.

“It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”

Will feels as if he's been hit over the head. It easily could have been something Troy said to Will when they were kids, when he taunted him about his faggotry. Said faggotry was a truth he had confided in Jonathan, one that only alone knew. Sure, others had suspicions, but Jonathan was the only one who knew for sure.

“I’m not trying to be a jerk, okay?” Mike, for what it's worth, appears to be genuinely apologetic. “But we’re not kids anymore.”

And Will wishes he could tell him that he would like to be. How he never got to have truly been. That he lost it all and he needs to go back, and oh god,  please, let him go back.

“I mean, what did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?”

Will has so many things to say. After all that had gone wrong, he figured Mike would understand why he couldn't bear solitude. That he trusted his friends to be around for him. That D&D, that Mike, is really the only way he is going to get out of the foolish inferno he's landed himself in. But his eye sockets are starting to boil up with blood-hot tears, but if there's anything Mike no longer gets to have, it's to indulge his savior complex, to see him cry.

“Yeah,” he spits out, intended venom only coming out as whimpers. He got his wish after all, at least vocally - he sounds like a helpless, heartbroken, little kid. “I guess I did. I really did.”

Will seems unconcerned that the storm is brewing more intensely than before. He runs to his bicycle, between the raindrops - he can be insensible, too - and races out of the driveway, barely being able to see the luxury car on the path in front of him. It makes no difference. All he needs to do now is go home. Distance from his shitty friends. Distance from fucking Mike, stupid Mike, who is trying to speak from behind him.

“Will. Will! Will, come on!”

Fuck you. He thinks, the very thought dripping with poison, and he is revolted by it, terrified of himself for thinking it. So he thinks it again. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck Mike.  Fuck you, Mike Wheeler.

He thought it would help. That he would feel better.

It does not help.

He does not feel better.

“Et tu, Brute?” He remembered that one from history class, set in golden amber to remain in his memory courtesy of the paper Mike had written on the tale. "There would have to be trust before there could be treachery."

And now the person that he would always take a literal bullet for was the one behind the metaphorical gun.

Mike's heart was beating with the feeling that he’d done something completely and utterly wrong. It felt like when he got in trouble with his parents for lying to them or breaking one of his mom's good dishes, and he wished that he could take it back so he wouldn't have to feel bad about it anymore (and so he wouldn't be grounded). But the feeling of wrongdoing he had now was a thousand times worse, because the most important friendship of his life was at stake. If only he hadn't opened his stupid mouth, and said all those stupid things.

Stupid. So stupid.

What possessed him to say such a thing? Will had never consulted him that he liked... well, not girls, but he had started to notice things that made him wonder over the years. The Karate Kid, which he'd recently become preoccupied with, immediately comes to mind. When the party was trying to decide on a movie to watch, Max would always offer it, and Will would always agree, claiming that it was just a really good movie, despite the fact that it didn't fit the party's favored genre. Mike realized it wasn't proof in and of itself, but he'd also never had a girlfriend or displayed any interest in women. And the truth of the matter that Will had reacted to the statement with silence pretty much fortified any speculations in Mike's head.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Will's journey home is ugly. His tires' tread is wearing thin, and every so often he gets into a swerve that almost takes him down. He's drenched to the bone, his hair is adhered to his cheeks, and everything in his rucksack has been most likely decimated. He avoids his house in favor of Castle Byers because his blood flows sour around Mirkwood, as it usually does.

Will parks his bike in front of the house, turns on the lamp, and comes crashing down on the mattress. It's frigid and leaking, and his heart is still burdened with deceit and anguish. He looks at the myriad comic books in the space that is getting smaller as he grows. He analyzes the sketches on the wall, which show Will the Wise and all of their campaign's characters. He even has photographs of them all together, from trick-or-treating and years beforehand and just then Will feels fucking stupid. He couldn't hold back the tears he'd been holding back at Mike's house. He understands that they won't be children forever. But he had hoped, if only for a day, that they could play along. They might just act as though everything were the same as they were before. He could pretend to be happy and fearless, to be loved and to matter in the same way that he used to.

Things have changed since then, and there's no going back. It’s time to grow up.

Mike is right.

They’re not kids anymore.

“It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”

Will makes a concerted effort to concentrate on the pages of the comic book, but Mike's voice continues repeating the same lines in his head. He turns the page, but the story still doesn't pique his interest, so he hurls it onto the ground of Castle Byers, annoyed.

“Stupid….stupid…” muttering to himself, Will shreds the picture in his hands, the one he hadn't even realized he picked up, before moving to everything on the walls, ripping drawings and photographs down with fervor. As he rips off the other pictures and drawings stapled to the wobbly walls, he repeats it again and again, crying. “So stupid. Stupid.”

He gets to his knees and crawls out of the fort, seizing the bat hanging against one of the walls. He pauses for a while, taking in the sight of the spot in which he's felt most secure for so long. He swings.

And Castle Byers collapses piece by piece, exactly as it was constructed. He never knew his killer would come from within.

Although the stronghold isn't completely waterproof, the majority of the items inside have remained unscathed throughout time. Will, on the other hand, feels suffocated when he considers all of the memories. He picks up a photo of the group from Halloween last year, and seeing the happiness and innocence, the pure youthful joy, causes him to crumble. He wants to be himself again. He wants to be ten. He does not want to know all that he knows now.

As he pounds the bat time after time, his head hurts from how hard he's crying, his shouts drowned out by the rain. He doesn't allow himself to feel bad about it, but the ache of realizing that things are now irreversibly messed up weighs heavily on his shoulders. As he smashes the bat to the earth, snagging the planks that form the entryway and ripping it completely off the structure, it feeds his rage. He feels a sickly delight in causing himself so much decay.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

This was something he needed to fix. He needed to make sure Will was alright because the guilty ache in his heart would never want to go away if he didn't. Mike dashed back inside to collect Lucas, and the pair of them leapt on their bikes, unconcerned about the downpour as they rode towards the Byers' house.

As he pedaled away, Mike thought to himself, "Please let him be okay."

When they finally got to Will’s, it was pouring more than ever before, rain saturating their coats and weighing them down like they had lead in their pockets. They beat their fists upon the front door and called out to him with desperation, but there was no answer.

Over the sound of rain pounding the metal roof like gunfire, Lucas yelled, “He's not here!”

Mike's first reaction was that he hadn't made it, that Will had been injured in some kind of bizarre accident. The prospect of life without his best friend made his stomach plummet. But then it occurred to him that he knew exactly where he was.

“I'm going to go look for him! Stay here in case he comes back!” Mike yelled over to Lucas, already taking off.

“Okay!” And that was the end of it. He should have realized this was where the will was from the start. He would have six months ago. He was still a good friend at the time. He wished he had never allowed himself to drift so far away from him, from what they used to be. But it was so simple to spend all of his time with El, and it was so intoxicating to feel like a regular teenager again, rather than the dorky frogface child who was constantly pushed around. Whatever it was, he just prayed it wasn't too late to make things right with Will, because if it wasn't, he wasn't sure what he'd do.

When Mike arrived at Castle Byers, he was jolted out of his reverie. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Mike recognized how severely he had screwed up when he saw Will with a bat in his shaky hands demolishing his safe haven. The weight in his chest grew heavier than he had anticipated.

"Will, please stop!" He screamed, his face flushed with the sound of thin tree branches cracking. Will didn't recognize his presence at all. "Please, Will!" Stop! You have no idea what you're doing!"

“Will! Will, what are you doing?"

Before he can identify Mike's words, arms squeeze him from behind and drag him away from the fractured shards of his boyhood.

"Leave me alone!" Will screams, attempting to break free from the grip around him but failing; the arms around his chest keep him immobile.

"What's the matter, Will?" Mike's voice, which is practically next to his ear, asks. Will acknowledges absently that he seems afraid.

"Mike, get out of here!" Will cried weakly in between sobs, his gaze remaining fixed on the other boy. It sounded like something someone said when they couldn't think of anything else to say. Mike's eyes welled up with tears as he realized how much his friend was suffering.

"Let me go!" Will screamed as he struggled to free himself from Mike's grip, dropping his bat in the attempt.

Mike apologized, "I'm sorry." "Is this some kind of episode?"

“No! Please, just let me go!" Will grunts as he finally breaks free from their grip and staggers away.

"Let go," Will pleaded softly this time as he sank to his knees, all his remaining fight draining from him. Mike clung to him as he fell to the ground, never letting go. Will continued to cry in his arms, and he felt his friend's agony as if it were his own, as if Will's happiness and well-being were somehow inextricably related to his own. That was how it had always been, and it still was, even though they'd just drifted away. Mike couldn't fathom a time when it wouldn't be the case. Mike put his head on Will's shoulder and wrapped his arms around him, attempting to reassure him that he wasn't alone. That he was and would always be here.

Mike murmured, trying to justify, "I didn't mean what I said." He quickly identified this was the wrong course of action because it infuriated Will all the more.

“Like hell you didn’t! We both know you meant every damn word, Mike, so don't try to pretend you didn't," Will cried as he twisted away from the larger boy. "You can't go back!"

Mike couldn't react since he didn't know how. Will spoke again before he could think of anything to add.

When Mike looks down and sees Will's hands trembling, he is instantly reminded of another time when they were sitting side by side, Mike trying to do precisely what he was trying to do now, what he had always tried to do: comfort his closest, best friend. He suddenly reached across and clasped his hand over Will's.

“Will?” Mike inquires, his voice practically drowned out by the rain. "How did this happen?"

“What does it look like?” Will spits, allowing his rage to conceal the sadness and pain that he wants to express.

"It looks like you were attacked and this place was messed up!" Mike adds, "I can't believe it," as he points to the rubbish heap that's all that's left of Castle Byers. "Are you okay, Will?" His eyes are big and anxious as he asks. Another wave of rage washes over Will.

"I'm fine. I just didn't need it anymore. Will says, childishly kicking a log and grunting as agony runs up his leg.

“What?” Mike asks, shakily and perplexed, "You did this?" Will ignores his troubled expression.

“Yeah. "I mean, it was about time," Will adds, trying as hard as he can to persuade himself as much as Mike. "I did it when I was a scared little kid. But we’re not kids anymore, huh?”

As he delivers that final part, he doesn't notice Mike's flinch. Mike extends his hand out in front of him.

"Will, I didn't mean that."

“Uh yeah, it was! You can't go back now! It's fine, I know what you meant. I think I deserved a wake-up call," Will says, stepping over a log and moving further away from his friend.

"Will, no, I said something stupid. We're just fourteen, and you're totally right about us spending too much time with our girlfriends. And we shouldn't quit doing something just because we're doing something else now. Like, we have the entire summer to do whatever we want."

Will stands there watching Mike waffle, seeming annoyed as if he's having trouble getting his point over.

"You don't have to say all this to make me feel better," Will grumbles, glancing down at the shambles around his feet. He's working hard to avoid losing it in front of Mike once more.

Mike knew they still had a lot to speak about, but he also understood that holding hands on the muddy ground in the rain wasn't the place to do it.

“Will? Let me get you home, okay?" Mike pleaded as the other boy looked across at him. Will returned his gaze to Castle Byers and then nodded slowly, taking a deep breath.

Mike placed a cautious arm across Will's shoulders as they went back slowly, unsure how receptive he was of the contact at this time. Will, on the other hand, didn't push him away; instead, he let out a trembling breath. Mike remembered all the times he'd done the same thing. The casual touches and talks where one of them, typically Mike, would ramble on and on about some new thread for about as long as the other one would give them their whole attention used to be so much simpler. But that was no longer the case. Every encounter they had these days was difficult, and Mike understood it was his fault.

He had to do something about it.

Lucas was full of questions as soon as the two boys came onto the Byers' porch.

"Are you alright? Where were you?" he asked, referring to Will, though Mike answered for him before he could respond.

"I think you should go home. I've got him." he asserted.

"But shouldn't we talk about—" Lucas began, but Mike interrupted him.

“I said I got him. Look, it's all right. We'll talk again tomorrow." Lucas appeared unsure of himself and glanced at Will for confirmation.

"I'm fine," Will assured him, "but it's late, so you both should go home. It's been a long day."

Mike didn't think of leaving even for a second. Will should not have to be alone in this situation. After all, he still needed to make amends with them. He didn't feel like he could do anything else till he knew he felt better.

Mike and Will sat side by side on the couch fifteen minutes later, finally in dry clothes for what seemed like the first time in hours, even though it hadn't been that long since Will stormed out of the Wheeler household, and even less time when Mike discovered him trashing Castle Byers.

The lamplights appear to be overly dim. Except for Will's living room area television, which goes on and off, everything is quiet. Lucas snores as he flops onto his back on the couch. Mike sits down next to Will on the floor and takes a long look at him. Will was given a heavier, fleece blanket by him earlier, and it now drapes over his naked, pale shoulders. Will's top, as well as his coral-colored cargo shorts, were saturated.

He pulls the blanket up over Will's shoulders and adjusts it. Will's lack of acknowledgement seems disturbing. He should glare.  Flinch. Scream at him for being such a jackass.

"Are you all right?" Mike says, his fingers cupped over Will's brow and his sweat-damp bangs pushed up. He half-expects Will to yank his arm away, but he could have caught a cold in the downpour. "You're still a little warm..."

Will hums, his hazel-green eyes narrowing, "Mm." A deep, pleasant tone.

Mike's cheeks are red and swollen. "Please accept my apology, Will.”

He mumbles, reflexively pulling away from Mike's contact, "Forget it."

"What were you thinking when you wrecked it?" He inquired, despite the fact that he was very certain he already knew. Will was the one he wanted to hear it from.

"You were right." After a brief pause, Will stated, "We're not kids. I don't need a stupid castle.”

“It’s really not stupid.”

"I'm stupid, then," Will murmured, as if he actually meant it, and Mike's chest ached all over again. He was desperate for the other boy to realize it wasn't true.

"Will, please stop. You're not stupid."  Mike continued, "I'm stupid," because he was. He'd made such a mistake by allowing his best friend to drift so far away.

"Okay, we were both stupid," Will remarked, the side of his lips twisting up into what Mike thought was his first smile in a long time.

"Stupid together," Mike said after a brief pause, recalling a previous encounter. Will sighed, and he knew he was thinking about the same thing.

"Y’know, you were right, too. I am wrecking the party," Mike remarked. Will merely stared up at him, saying nothing. Mike could see he'd had enough of comforting him that the truth wasn't what it seemed, because nothing seemed to be okay.

"I know you're upset," Will replied, looking down but afterwards offering a sorrowful grin to his friend, "but it's not entirely your fault. When it's me who's so... different, I can't really blame you for all of it."

"Will, it's not your fault; it was me who-"

"No, Mike, don't you get it?" Mike had tears welling up in the creases of his eyes. "If I were like you, if I could have a girlfriend, or even wanted one," he waved between them, "this wouldn't be so hard," he said.

"But I'm not there yet. To date... somebody or to quit D&D, since playing games all day in your basement is a lot easier than facing, well, all of it. I don't want to worry about all that comes with just being me."

Mike saw immediately that Will was terrified. Except there were no creatures, spies, gateways, or darkness hiding in the recesses of his imagination this time. This was a tragically true situation. Mike couldn't blame him for wanting to stay as far away from it as possible. You can't just shout at something like that to go away when you're confronted with it. It's a part of who you are, and while it's not always a bad thing, you still have to deal with it. The gears in Mike's head started whirling as he thought about it more. He remembered Dungeons and Dragons, and how he didn't mind playing it out again and over again. He imagined how he would play it a million times simply to see Will's face light up. He, on the other hand, pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. He wasn't ready to talk about any of that just now. This wasn't about him right now.

Mike wrapped his arms across Will's waist and put his chin on his shoulder.

"I'm not sure what to say. We both know I'm horrible with words at this point," Will sighed, but Mike remained solemn as he continued, "but I swear everything will be fine."

"You can't make that promise."

"Of course I can, because I'll make sure it is. I'm sorry if I've been a dick recently, but I'm going to try harder to... not be. I can't live without you," Mike says, moving his head to look Will in the eyes, his arms tightening as he said the last sentence.

Mike smiled back at Will, and Will smiled back. At that time, it felt like they could finally, at last get back to business as usual. As he sat there hugging a happy Will Byers for maybe the first time in years, Mike realized what he said was true.

They'd make certain it was. Both of them, together. How it should be.

Mike is all alone. And he despises being by himself. Nobody can fill the abyss that exists next to him. Nobody nearby to enjoy his lame remarks. There was nobody to stop the vacancy in his heart. Being alone has that effect on people. at least in Mike's case. His innards appear to have constricted and become as compact as reasonably practicable, making his body appear to have shriveled in size. He feels like he's smothering, like if his windpipe is stuffed with feathers and he can't swallow it regardless of how hard he keeps trying. It appears as though the world is about to become inundated by a dam breaking beneath his eyes. It hurts tremendously.

He has always experienced these feelings at various points in his life. But he could always count on that special someone to step in and lend a hand. Could aid in filling the crater in his heart and patching the dams' concrete walls. Will. Will was always there.

Will, with his delicate gestures and comments. Will with his soft, reassuring touches. Will's capacity to see Mike. To look at him in such a condition and not feel pity for him. To see him and understand how to help. Will was now, however, miles and miles away. And although Mike could call him, he won't. Mike last spoke with Will at the end of August. December has come. Will's favorite season of the year is here, but Mike won't call. Because he is aware that if he does, all of his emotions would surface and he won't be able to control them.

El, for one, has been receiving letters from him. It's a way to communicate with her without needing to make a phone call. Without her asserting "I love you," and him saying "goodbye!" instead. Without her enquiring as to whether he would like to speak with Will or informing him that "Will wants to say hello," This makes the letters simpler. He discusses his family and his school. In regards to how much he misses her and how eagerly he awaits their upcoming spring break reunion. But the truth is that he's terrified of it. He feels his stomach lurch and his heart race at the notion of seeing Will. That, he believes, is unfair to El. That he misses Will more than she realizes, but won't tell her.

Or perhaps it's even worse for Will. It's unjust since all he needs to do is hold Will and try to convince him how much he loves him. to be with him throughout the whole of spring break. Perhaps the most unjust thing is that he has so many undelivered letters addressed to Will stashed under his mattress. These letters have more depth. Much more emotionally charged and informative. Those are authentic and accurate communications. Without addressing it, they openly confess millions of things. And Mike genuinely wants to send these to Will, and yet no matter how much he tries, something, everything, always gets in the way.

Mike takes out his notebook and pen.

Dear Will,

I miss you. It's true, even if I've said it in each and every one of these letters. It hurts that I miss you so much. You have no concept how painful it is to be apart from you. I am aware that neither you nor your mother are to blame, yet it still enrages me. Why can't we be happy after everything we've been through and accomplished? Bullshit, that's what it is. We should be happy. We deserve an award. All of it is so unfair.

I even go to your house more often than not. despite the fact that it is empty. I enter your bedroom and sit quietly, attempting to picture you still there. You're drawing at your desk, every time. You simply appear. It smells like you even though no one has been in there for months. But it's fading. I also occasionally visit Castle Byers. I restored this torn picture that I found for you. That was the least I could do, I reasoned. I'm hoping to see you again soon. You'll have something to look forward to since I have a surprise for you. If you want to return.

I've recently been going through your artwork. I'm not sure if you were aware of this, but I still have a collection of your work. They date back a while, but they're still incredible. In any case, better than I ever could manage. Your talent has always been there. I seriously wish I had a few of your new stuff. I'm sure you've improved throughout our absence.

I miss you. I miss your smiles, laughter, and sometimes even those corny jokes you would make. Hope you still think about me.

I'm sorry for what I said that day.

Love, M.

The taped-up photo of Mike grinning foolishly at Will is tucked in with the folded-up piece of paper as Mike places it in an envelope. He even goes so far as to write Will's contact details on it. He buries it beneath his mattress. He’s still alone.

After Will moves, Mike constantly returns to the now broken Castle Byers, as to indulge his intense feelings of guilt. It’s new for him, this guilt. He’s an arrogant son of a bitch, he knows, who can't admit when he's sorry. He thought he couldn’t live with himself if he managed to hurt Will. But if there’s anything these last few years have taught him, it’s that he would always manage to be surprised by what he could live with.

He comes up with grand plans to rebuild it, but, when he attempts to put said plans into fruition, eventually has to ask for Lucas' help - Mike can't build for shit, he's too weak to pick up the literal and metaphorical broken walls. It's fun, and they laugh sometimes, but mostly they are silent, consumed by their remorse and shared atrocity. Mike likes Lucas, but can't help but think it would be different if he knew. Perhaps his shirt wouldn't be off. Perhaps he would hide himself from Mike's sick, uncontrollable attraction that he presumes must apply to him but never discuss it. He would take off his bandana. They would never watch Karate Kid again.

They manage to finish it in the end.

But it’s not enough to cure his ache. Not with some of Will's best work, of which he was proud of enough to display in the finest gallery he knew, disintegrated into a runny mess of notebook paper clumps, the red and blue ink of the lines rudely interfering with the inks Will chose himself, for embellishment.

Amongst the heaps of barely-paper that only twisted the knife of his guilt, he saw a flag with colorful stripes across it, all the colors of the rainbow.

Mike being Mike, he has no fucking idea what it means (it’s hardly like his parents are willing to replace their beloved American flag in lieu of a pride flag rippling in the wind in their front yard), so he’s just completely oblivious. He’s used to being this way, even if he doesn’t know it. Sometimes, when he was with Will, he could not see himself, only the brunette in front of him.

Oblivion almost serves as a soothing drug, to be honest, at least in this case. Instead of going into a panic, thinking ‘Maybe I have a chance…’ and berating himself for it for god knows how long, all that is on his mind is ‘Oh shit, I need to replace this!!!’.

The second he returns to his house that feels less like a home than the Byers’ empty one, he mercilessly steals Holly’s obscene amount of markers and books it down to the basement before she and her fingernails of knives get their revenge. Putting a poster board that was supposed to be for a school project he found he had no motivation for to use - he figures a normal piece of paper would work, but, instead, he decides to make it as obnoxiously big as he possibly can, because this is Will he's making it for, so, naturally, it's has to be good enough for the Louvre - and starts making a new one in his basement.

The new flag takes its place right in the center wall of Castle Byers, and he honestly cannot remember being this proud of himself for making anything before. To make up for the lost masterpieces, he tapes up some of Will’s drawings from his collection on the walls there too, along with some doodles and chicken scratch of his own that couldn’t hold a candle to their comparatives, but he knew Will would appreciate them all the same.

But he’s not yet done, because phase two of the plan is to apologize. He’s never been good at humility, and yet he knows there’s no way around it: he was an asshole and this might be the only espace for constantly feeling like shit for treating Will like shit and he can’t think of anything that would be more awkward than if Will came to visit and he hasn’t apologized yet.

It's more difficult than he would like to admit. He and Will are opposite ends of a spectrum, in that way. Will’s life is made up of ‘I’m sorry’, whereas his is made up of excuses. Will feels like he has to apologize to people, to things, to life itself, whereas Mike wants to burn all of those things down in his warpath. He spends no less than two hours - it’s undoubtedly more, but his weariness grew as he kept checking the clock, so he eventually gave up on that and chucked it out his window, knowing full well there would be hell to pay for that later - writing up his script for what he'll say, because his nervous heart is eating up his body and he wants it to be nothing short of perfect.

It takes a full week to gather up the courage to dial the Byers' new phone number. After five rings, just as he’s about to bail, none other than William Byers picks up the phone and Mike’s nerves shrivel up, and his brain feels like it’s consumed by nerves, so he just hangs up.

And every time he tries to call, which is many, many, times, he keeps on chickening out, his veins keep filling with poison.

It takes forty-five tries and enough of a phone bill that Mike was grounded for three weeks before he ultimately speaks, and Will, who, by the fifteenth call, finally grew suspicious as to why the fuck were random people just called and hung up, dons a shaky, slow, smile that builds as the surprise sinks in and asks if he's the one doing the aforementioned calling and hanging up.

“Yeah.” He choked out, cringing as his voice cracked, a cold wave of dread washing over him. The embarrassment was something he could feel in his flesh, like a handful of sun-warmed mud clapping on his head, because oh shit, he didn't realize just how weird, just how creepy that is.

In a final act of desperation, he sucks it up and professes his apologeticness to Will, but, even speaking to the person who could calm him with a simple phrase, he was never, never, clam, never for an instant, panicking and rambling so much that ninety percent of what he's saying is just 'um' and 'uh'. Will eventually cuts him off, laughter bordering on giggles, telling him that it's fine, that he forgives him, but if he keeps on going on and on like this, he's going to hang up on him. The feelings they feel upon this confession of understanding, of pardoning, are as if intertwined. And perhaps they were. The feeling of being forgiven by a loved one and forgiving a loved one oneself are perhaps so much alike there's no reason to try to keep them as separate entities.

And as Mike smiles the quintessential Mike Wheeler Smile, predominantly reserved for Will: 

complete with a brightened face, as if glowing, eyes lit up, sparkling and twinkling, and cheeks dimpled, Will swears he could hear it over the landline.

Months pass. The Byers’ return to Hawkins briefly to ensure Will’s fifteenth birthday was not one tainted by loneliness. Mike and Will walk together, languidly, through the garden’s overgrown offerings, with lazy Sunday pacing. The towering March dahlias were caught off guard as they shrugged and exposed their crimson skins towards the spring breeze. Stumbling through the springtime forest their bare feet warmed to the bone, shorts torn by thorns and snagged to rags. Mike was planning to show him the remodeled Castle Byers as his gift to him, but, as usual, he got in the way of his own goals, so excited he just accidentally blurted it out while they were flipping through the illustrated Batman saga, and Will insisted he see it right that instant.

And see it he did. In fact, seeing it was all he seemed able to do. Sitting before a fortress plastered in rainbows, lingering hues of the faintest gray periods of the past. His heart tired, busy worrying that this was a taunt, busy worring how Mike found out that he was gay. Eyes glued. His mother always said not to stare.

And then all he can say, not ‘I love you’, not ‘wow’, not ‘thank you’, is “How did you know?”

Mike's never been so utterly confused. But he doesn’t want to make a wrong choice again, he knows that he really needs Will in his life. The stakes are so high, he doesn’t think he can handle replying at all. “Know what?”

Will looks at him quizzically, wondering if he was really about to make him say it out loud. “...Know that I’m gay?”

To Will’s bemusement and abject horror, Mike's just standing there with the world’s stupidest look on his face. The silence seems to last too long, but Will wishes it lasted longer when Mike blurts out “You’re what?!” Will can’t really blame him, it’s an incredibly well-known fact that Mike never thinks before he talks. But that doesn’t ease the fact that Will feels like his mind is a bee hive that has broken open, and the entire hive of raging bees are swarming and buzzing around his head. Because it turns out that Mike didn't know? He really was a rollercoaster, that Wheeler.

They gape at each other in complete, stifling, quiet, for infinity. It’s the kind of quiet that doesn’t have a face. When, at last, Will can’t stand it anymore, he throws up his hands. “Then why the fuck did you put up a pride flag? It’s a gay symbol."

Mike's face was carefully blank as the realization about how fucking dumb he is washes over him. He felt his neck hairs stand on end. His mind flashed back to all the previous times he had questioned things about both himself and Will, how each time he never listened to himself. He had always denied it...until now. And now he had to come to terms with how badly he had misunderstood the Cool Rainbow Poster. “Oh! That’s cool! I, uh, I like…I like rainbows, too.”

Will gave him a generous smile, one of exasperation, affection, and quite a healthy heaping of amusement. "Mike…"

"On the swings, you were by yourself. The day we met," he goes on to tell him, hoping he’s not setting his newfound asshole-ness in stone in doing so. "I remember you obviously looking at everybody else having fun, but you wouldn’t leave the swings. You didn't go play flag football." Mike can still hear the reverberation of Will's swing's steel rings humming between his molars. "That's because Andy Jones started calling you a queer and the other guys started laughing."

Will smiles with sentimentality tattooed all over his features. "But you didn't," he breathes, his gaze fixed on Mike.

"What?" Mike remarks with a gruff chuckle and gleaming brown irises. "Did you really think you would be the only one at school?" Will's shock serves as confirmation to him. Mike cries out in a trembling, enraged manner while throwing his fingers over his lips. "I like guys, too... how fucked up is that?"

Will firmly asserts, his brows furrowing, "It's just not, is the thing. You don't have anything wrong with you, Mike."

Mike hangs his head and rubs his nose. "I avoided you all summer..."

Will nudges him with his hand, and their fingers entwine. He murmurs drowsily, resting his head on Mike's scalp as they move, Mike's second arm wrapping around Will's neck. It was the kind of intimacy that Mike always thought would leave him in a state of decay - he did not particularly like to touch or be touched, but it was a sort of paradoxical dislike. He abhorred physical touch because he simply craved it too much - like Will in the summer of ‘85. He wanted to be held very tight, and this would prove to be his glue, holding him together so he would not shatter to pieces. It was none of those things. It was comforting. Right. "When this is over... we could go to the playground... like it was before," Will adds.

It will be just like before. Before the horrors and the Upside Down.

[creppersfunpalooza]

☄️ Comet - Who is your most self destructive character? Why are they like that?

🌑 New moon - Who is your most mysterious character? Are they different from what people assume?

☄️ : I had to think about this actually. My initial thought was Koi. I mean, just look at him. He keeps digging himself a deeper hole by indulging in unhealthy habits and has no respect for himself anymore. Yeah, it gets better over time, but he’s a little pathetic at first.

and then I realized that it’s not Koi. It’s never been Koi.

ITS THIS GUY RIGHT HERE!!

quick cw shoehorned in here: quick and brief mentions of addiction, implications of domestic abuse, self destructive tendencies, and that should be it but just be careful going into it yeah OH WAIT SHIT I FORGOT THE BODY HORROR

yes, i know he looks similar to TBR, yes, that is intentional (they’re brothers). This right here is Whitey. Both Whitey and TBR were highly intelligent, with Whitey’s intellect and magical brilliance being apparent from a very young age. He, however, is also a very insecure person. He could even be considered a pushover. He wants to blend in to a crowd. He has aspirations but unlike TBR, he sees them as unrealistic and settles for second best. He becomes a lawyer because he thinks it would keep his mind working, but falls into a spiral of uncertainty and incompleteness. This leads him down a path of unhealthy habits and coping mechanisms (gambling addiction and drinking problems), until it eventually fucks him over so bad that he gets himself into a situation he can’t get out of. Like big time. It’s a little hard to explain since I’m still making rewrites, but he gets into a pretty terrible relationship and gets trapped in it (i promise this isn’t as common of a theme as it seems to be in my stories between him and rosé loll). He loses his will entirely and is slowly driven further to the brink of what he can handle. It gets to a point where he’s trying to think of any possible way to make do with the lifestyle he’s been forced into, going as far as to consider something pretty damn close to lobotomizing himself. And in the end? What does it all come to? He’s killed by one of the few people he felt like he could still trust. At his tipping point where he’s about ready to give up, when his option is to either fight or die, he makes his choice.

and yeah uhm the god of death isn’t too happy about that and pretty much just keeps him in purgatory because she felt a bit petty (she made a bet on his life). it’s a lot to explain and i can do a deeper explanation on it but not right now because i’m not feeling too motivated to talk abt him. still thinking a lot abt some of my other guys.

🌑: Most mysterious? hmmmmmm. It’d either go to Bliss or one of the creations of death. Bliss is from another time and plane. She’s very arrogant and thinks of her (and her vessel) as more important than the people around her due to her once royal status. She is very uncooperative and apathetic towards anyone other than Kate. She has a bit of a god complex herself. While people don’t exactly misjudge her, they don’t realize the full extent of her. She’s seen the world change and warp for at least a century, she’s learned it’s dirty and flawed. Nobody here is perfect, and that’s not what she’s used to. It’s not her standard.

The creations of death (unofficially titled as martha, that one fucking tree, the significantly cooler tree that’s not really a tree and probably won’t be a tree in the revamp, and the only one who can fucking move) have been in the wonderrealm since close to its beginning. They are it’s original inhabitants. Martha is a hivemind, expanding off of collecting the souls of the lost. It grants them with a home and community. They still have their free will and thoughts inside of the mind, but work as a singular entity outside. They’re unified by Martha. Martha also provides those in close proximity to it with wealth and joy, creating a lure for newcomers. Martha itself cannot think the same way the people who are part of it think. Martha is abstract and conceptual. It cannot be comprehended. “Martha” is just a nickname given from the people inside of the mind, but Martha seems to like it. That One Fucking Tree is a much more malicious entity. It feeds off of the cruelty of others in exchange for youth and beauty. Like Martha, it wishes to grow influence. It requires patrons. The patron, fueled by vanity, will deliver it regular sacrifices in order to keep their youth. The sacrifices in question will be fused into its biomass, oftentimes unwillingly, but subdued by its presence. i hate this tree. i hate it a lot. i might scrap it because i do not like this tree. but it is technically important to the world building. also it sounds very similar to a character i cannot and will not discuss here from a separate thing (theorists do not see this this is not for your eyes). Then you have the cooler tree. This tree which is likely not going to be a tree is a little entity who lives in the catacombs of the old diamond palace. it’s a living creature that provides safety and sanctuary to those who read to it. that’s it. it’s very harmless and just wants more knowledge. maybe the tree wants to take over the world, but for now it is but a sapling. Finally, we have the only one with legs. Lady Luck. She has a significantly different form, with it being more mobile and humanoid, but still distinctly different than a normal person. She’s revered as a goddess by many in the Wonderrealm. She could never be in the same place for very long, but it’s said that any who gave her a golden coin or a marble or something shiny would be gifted eternal luck. While it’s not apparent whether or not these stories were true, her existence is undeniable… Or was. Nobody’s seen her for years. again i’ll probably get around to doing a deep dive on more of these characters but for now i’m feeding you bits and pieces.

so dig in :3

[lady-of-lyon]

So, I made one post a while back about how awesomely feminist the show Wild Kratts was, with how its two main female characters were women of color in engineering and deserving roles of power, female villains who weren’t motivated by spite or quest for youth, etc, but today I wanted to talk about something slightly different, that I’ve wanted to cover for a while now, because I also think it’s very good - and that’s how the show portrays masculinity, in a way that’s really positive!

First, we have our two main characters, Chris and Martin Kratt. Keep in mind these two are basically self-inserts - and there are plenty of creators, especially males, who have used self-insert characters in really scummy ways - all I have to say is Powerpuff Girls reboot and you know exactly what I’m talking about. Even if they weren’t literal self-inserts, male characters, superheroes especially, oftentimes serve the male power fantasy, being just the strong, stoic, all-powerful person so many boys are told they’re supposed to be. I could get into a whole discussion about how the male power fantasy is present even when males are not (ever look through a fashion magazine and wonder why there are so few men? Sure, part of it is that the industry thrives off exploiting women’s insecurities, and men aren’t as concerned for their appearance, but another part of it is so that the guy, looking through it, can feel like he has no competition for these women - there’s a reason so many comedians have jokes about fashion magazines being their sexual awakening as kids. It’s really scummy) but that’s not what this is about. So, the bros had every opportunity to do just that - make themselves these traditional heroes who aren’t actually really good role models, like batman or what have you. It’s certainly not uncommon for celebrity cartoons to do stuff like that. But Martin and Chris chose a different approach. They’re pretty strong standouts for positive masculinity. They’re openly affectionate - both with eachother as brothers, and with their friends. They cry, sometimes over little things - most of the time when big superheroes cry, it’s ‘cause they lost the girl they loved or their mentor or something like that, only in the big, most agonizing moments do they shed a tear. But here, Chris or Martin will cry just because they’ve had a bad day, or because they’re overwhelmed and overjoyed that someone named a mantis after them! In a lot of shows or movies when a guy cries over something little, it’s usually played for laughs, or to emasculate him, but here it’s casual without being unreasonable or overdone. The brothers cry just ad much, maybe even more (haven’t gone back and counted or anything) as the girls do. Not to mention, it’s a very nice depiction of a loving, healthy sibling relationship. As the youngest sibling myself, it’s refreshing to see a pair who don’t abuse eachother with noogies or cruel and snarky remarks. When they do fight, it’s never a screaming match, and also because they had a conflict of interest or disagreed over a fact, not because, say, one of them stole the other’s shirt or is neglecting the other’s feelings. Kids, being very impressionable, get exposed to a lot of abusive sibling relationships played as normal in media, and start thinking this is how siblings are and should act. For instance, my sister (who is now my best friend and has gotten over all these bad habits over time) when she was younger watched a lot of Kim Possible, a show that is great, but has a bad family dynamic with Kim and her little siblings. The “tweebs” as she calls them are always irresponsible, destructive, and making Kim annoyed to no end. My older brother was one of the most polite, reserved, kind little kids, but she still treated him like he was a brat and a nuisance, because that’s what shows like Kim Possible taught her little brothers were. Additionally, I was always treated like a spoiled crybaby who just wanted attention and got away with everything - I was not any of those things, ever, but that’s what shows teach you little sisters are. Sure, Wild Kratts has a smidge of that, with Chris seemingly being the stereotype of the know-it-all little sibling, but instead of being constantly looked town upon for being too “perfect” like with Hailey Long in American Dragon, Martin often praises his brother for his abilities. Sure, Martin gets annoyed when Chris tries to correct him on things, like in the episode Wolf Hawks, but everyone else does too, so it feels more like a take-down of mansplaining than a sibling spat.

I talked too in the feminist post about how refreshing it is that Chris and Martin more or less willingly put themselves under the authority of Koki and Aviva, two women of color. I don’t think it’s possible to say any one character is the “leader,” they all work as a evenly balanced team, but it’s safe to say that Koki and Aviva make the more responsible decisions. The bros try to get out of their calls a few times, but the show plays it more like they’re being irresponsible, and less like they’re renegade cool dudes who don’t take nothing from nobody, especially not two girls. They are pretty much always punished via karma for their reckless choices, most especially in To Touch a Hummingbird, where their arrogant attitudes blow up in their faces rather spectacularly. We also never see the narrative most present in sitcoms, where the male leads mess up and go out of their way to cover it up and ultimately gets away with it - after all, you have to root for them, right, because sure they messed up and had no consequences, but aren’t they just so lovable? No, here Martin and Chris always have to fix their wrongdoing, and it’s always deserved when they get comeuppance. Another aspect of the show I like is that, many times, when the bros get captured or are in peril, they are saved by the women - and most refreshing of all, there’s never a moment of “wink wink nudge nudge wow I can’t believe I had to be rescued by a GIRL” or even “wow you saved me you’re pretty good honey guess I shouldn’t have underestimated you, you go girl!” No, when the girls save them, it’s just - you know, relief? Because they were saved? It’s never a scenario played as an exception, or any more dire than when the bros need to rescue eachother. The bros are genuinely happy to have them as teammates. The show even did the standard “boys vs girls” episode in the form of When Fish Fly - but instead of being actually girls vs. boys, it’s engineers vs. adventurers. There’s nothing really gendered about it - the girls happen to be engineers, and the boys happen to be adventurers. And the episode doesn’t end with the boys being “wow gosh darn I shouldn’t have doubted you girls are better at everything,” it’s a mutual agreement that both parties have hard jobs. Basically, the bros are very naturally respectful of women. That plays more into their feminist narrative too, but either way, it’s refreshing.

Then, we have Jimmy! Jimmy, the lovable gamerboy pizza man. At first glance Jimmy seems like the stereotypical cowardly, pathetic, emasculated loser. He’s frightened of most things, as of yet has no power suit, and he BAKES for crying out loud! But none of these things are framed as terribly bad traits. Sure, we laugh when he screams and runs from an animal, but though it happens over and over, the crew doesn’t get sick of it. They don’t berate him or belittle him because he’s so gosh darn cowardly. There’s a great scene in Rattlesnake Crystal where Jimmy has to deliver something to the bros alone, in the middle of a spooky desert. He is terrified the whole time, sprinting off after he delivers the goods. When Martin and Chris run into him, they don’t laugh at him for being spooked, they just greet and then bid fair well to their friend. To them, this is just Jimmy, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Jimmy isn’t coddled, but he is reassured many times that he’s a valuable member of the team. I love that little message, that you’re just as important of a person even if you can’t do as much or have greater limits. When his friends do try to get him over his fears, it’s not because they have to, that the day will somehow be ruined by Jimmy’s incompetence p, but because they’re his friends, and want him to experience fun and wonderful things that he would otherwise miss out on. But what Jimmy CAN do is just as important! Jimmy is a gamer, which in a lot of shows, is portrayed as a lazy, useless, mindless hobby. But here, because he plays video games, it makes him essential for piloting the ship and teleporting important items. There’s always the joke that video games improves your hand/eye coordination, but recent studies have shown it has much better effects. It can make you much better at keeping track of multiple moving objects and processing technical but variable information- two traits which, fittingly enough, are really really important for air traffic controllers and airplane pilots! He also demonstrates a lot more courage behind the wheel of the Tortuga, which makes sense - in an impersonal setting, he would have more sense of calm and control and courage, because it’s so similar to a video game world. It’s not all too different with how I feel more emboldened to pick fights with people on the internet, but get crazy anxious if a real person so much as looks at me. So Jimmy’s love of video games isn’t because he’s irresponsible, it has real benefits. A quick last point - Jimmy also eats a lot, but they thankfully don’t make him fat or greedy or anything like that. He never takes food from people, he actually bakes, and shares it with others! Having the baker be a boy is a lovely touch.

I might do another post about the toxic masculinity of the two villains, (or four villains, I guess, if I wanna discuss the minions) but I’ve got other work to do, and this post is long enough already, so I’ll get around to it later. I’ll sum it up with this - Wild Kratts is a show that teaches boys it’s not only ok to be kind, but essential. The brothers protect defenseless animals, advocate for things “icky” and “weird,” like bugs or snakes or worms - not because they’re boys, and boys like icky things, but because they genuinely see the beauty in all life, and are encouraging us to slow down and do the same. The Wild Kratts are heroes who save the world not by being the strongest or smartest or coolest, but by looking after those who are exploited and vulnerable, who are essential to the world, even if they can’t always do everything. In Wild Kratts the only weaknesses a man can have isn’t what he can’t do, but what he does do that he shouldn’t have. Sure, it’s a cute show about two funny guys who have cool powers, but it’s also a show about accountability, compassion, respect and trust. The show says “boys will be boys” in all the right ways - Martin is a lovable goof with a heart of gold, but he still has to get his act together when he messes up, and he’s still creative and smart and openly sensitive. Chris is a bit of a know-it-all show-off, but he can also mess up as much as his brother, and is still bold, brave, adventurous, and can put his money where his mouth is. Jimmy is a cowardly, napping, eating machine video-gamer, but he’s still a valued member of the team, has incredible skills and talents, and will always help his friends, even if he is really, really scared. It is so important to have role models like these, in a world dominated by unhealthy machismo. The Wild Kratts are heroes who save the world - both animated, and real.

All they need now is a canon queer character, and I’ll stan them forever! My money’s on Aviva!!

[shadowqueen1220]

Analysis on C! Tubbo's Emotional State

Disclaimer: I am in no means a professional and I am heavily basing this off of my own experiences and general observations. (Please let me know if my wording is bad)

This is all about the roleplay characters if it wasn't clear

Warning: self harm, self sacrifice, self destructive behavior and talk of mental health and canon typical violence

Tubbo has always been a self sacrificial character. He always helps his friends at the expense of his own safety (ie disc war and L'manburg). He is a bit of an overachiever and that has gotten worse when combined with tendencies of paranoia. (all og members of L'manburg have paranoia issues, stemming from the final control room)

After the Independance War, Tubbo was involved with the elections. He made a secret bunker, saying "hope for the best plan for the worse" in case the electrons went wrong. He was proven right and then had to endure a harsh dictatorship.

Spy Tubbo was constantly under stress. He not only was secretly slipping information to Pogtopia but had his role of Security of State as well. At the Elections, Schlatt verbally abused Tubbo and scared him into following his orders. Most of the things Schlatt had told Tubbo to have shaped him into the Tubbo that internalizes and represses all his emotions. (ie don't complain, don't cry, don't talk back, agree with everything I say). Tubbo, who already naturally liked to help his friends, was forced to become a yes man in order to stay safe.

The Festival was a disaster and a huge blow to Tubbo's self esteem. The famous line here is "Wilbur said he wasn't going to hurt me" and Tubbo wholeheartedly believed that he could trust Wilbur, his former president and older brother figure. However, all he got was the fact that he was now expendable to Wilbur. His death was brushed aside and it seemed like the only person who cared was Tommy. Even Tubbo quickly became desensitized to the fact that his own pain did not matter in the chaos of the situation.

His life becomes even more chaotic when he is thrust into the role of President and his self sacrificing nature kicked in when no one else would take the presidency. And then in the first 10 minutes into his presidency, he is shot and his nation is blown up.

Tubbo takes this all in stride, repressing everything in order to rebuilt but his cabinet does not listen to him and constantly talks over him. When his vice president and best friend gets into trouble, Tubbo learns that he must be louder in order to be heard.

Tubbo felt betrayed by Tommy's actions during the exile negotiations. He felt as if Tommy didn't respect his power and the pressure of living up to President Wilbur, the threat of becoming like President Schlatt and the expectations of the entire nation all depended on him.

Tubbo once again choose sacrifice but this time, he was not only sacrificing himself but harmed Tommy in his decision as well. Immediately Tubbo regretted his decision and regressed into his yes man habits to cope with the situation.

From here on out, this may be a bit of a stretch but I love putting lore goggles on to every scene for analysis purposes and with a character like Tubbo who is rarely played, we can get some character depth from seemingly "silly" bits.

Tubbo after exiling Tommy shifted from being self sacrificial to self destructive. Both presidents before him had died and the odds were not looking good for Tubbo, already he had made an awful decision that he immediately regretted. Yet he couldn't reverse it and didn't feel worthy enough to see Tommy.

Tubbo never built himself a home in L'manburg. No stuff, no place to sleep, no roots. He told Ranboo that the presidency was all his when the elections came around. He didn't want to be president anymore. He's worryingly self depreciating.

I don't quite remember the timing of this stream but Tubbo and Ranboo once went nether exploring. Ranboo panicked as Tubbo was extremely reckless during this adventure, jumping into lava without fire res, speed bridging with few blocks and jumping off of tall places without checking his health. In addition, Tubbo went through a series of projects as a President, always doing something new and often involving things that could hurt him (ie Ravenger teleportation, tnt jumping). We can see Tubbo become subtly self destructive during this time.

(sidenote: tubbo has a habit to jump off of high things and expecting the person at the bottom to water bucket. Tommy usually is the person to "catch him" and I find it interesting that they both had self destructive tendencies while the other was gone. I'll come back to this point soon)

We never get Tubbo's opinion on the Butcher Army. He heavily opposed the idea at the beginning of the presidency but agreed to take part in it despite Techno killing him being a traumatizing event.

And then Logsteadshire. The guilt of exiling his best friend and being the cause to his death is too much for his mind to handle and he passes out. We never learn how Tubbo got back to L'manburg and the next time we see him, he is back to throwing himself into project after project.

The next time we really see Tubbo is when Tommy and Technoblade take Connor hostage. Ranboo says that Tubbo is just staring at a grass block and when Tommy appears, Tubbo is severely shaken. He is glad that his best friend is alive and upset that he's teamed with his murder but has to all shove it aside to fulfill his role as president. Tubbo takes Tommy yelling at him and Techno's accusations with no protest and once again, represses everything to move on.

Already the Green Festival reminded Tubbo of familiar events but at this time he was in control or so he thought. He had already failed an execution so he was determined to make this word so L'manburg could be safer. He had failed Tommy so he might as well try to make the server a better place by killing Dream. Yet Tubbo had doubts about it.

Dream was manipulating Tubbo during his entire presidency. Tubbo truly believed that Dream was his friend and thought that Dream supported him as a president. His self esteem was so low that he searched for validation anywhere (ie "rate my kidnapping", "phil tell me I'm doing good pls") and Dream willingly gave him companionship.

But then Dream started screaming at him and calling him and awful president, Tubbo agreed with Dream. Tubbo saw himself as weak and stupid and no one came to his defense so it had to be true.

His fight with Tommy was very impactful and led Tubbo to believe that the discs mattered more than him but we'll get back to that soon. Most of the things said during this fight were forgiven by both parties so I hope it doesn't affect him much.

Sidenote: when Quackity suggests to execute Ranboo, Tubbo chooses forgiveness for Ranboo having been in that position before and snaps at Quackity. Here we get a glimpse of Tubbo's inner emotions and we can see clearly that the events of the festival have hurt him.

Doomsday is further proof to Tubbo that he is the worst President that L'manburg had. He stares at the destruction in mute disbelief and even throws himself into tnt and in front of a firework for Tommy. By the end of the experience, Tubbo is so drained that he has given up on government, the fight beaten out of him and he lets L'manburg go, thinking it was his fault it fell.

Tubbo has suffered the most from government yet strives to make a community. Snowchester was supposed to be his healing. However, Tubbo's paranoia from all the violence and the lessons that he has learned from the others, caused him to built a way to defend himself. He doesn't even make a bed for himself in his new house.

Then his life gets shaken up by the Disc War Finale. He refuses to talk about his feelings on the odds, accepts defeat instantly as they were "doomed from the beginning" and doesn't seem to mind the fact that he might die.

In fact, he says "It was about time anyway"

Tubbo thinks he is living on borrowed time. All of the presidents before him are dead and he is in a seemingly impossible situation. Death seems to be the only option and he has accepted it before hand so he is fine with it. Even Tommy seems shaken by this as Tubbo was so positive about the situation before. But Tubbo had been hiding that all for Tommy's sake as he is very self sacrificial.

When everything seems to return to "normal" Tubbo tests his nukes and later tells Ranboo that be had expected everything to go horribly wrong. He is trying to heal and does a decent job at it, starting a family and building Snowchester.

But then he gets the memo that Tommy has been trapped in prison with Dream. He checks out the prison, being a inconvenience to the guards and is hardly fazed when Sam threatens to kill him. He leaves feeling disappointed that he cannot help but that is what it is and Tubbo thinks that Tommy is the strongest person he knows.

So that's why Tommy can't be dead. Tubbo denies Sam's words and when they finally register, begins an investigation to find out who's to blame. He becomes self destructive again, wearing Dream's armor and building a familiar panic room to research the crime.

He is once again extremely reckless when investigating. With Ranboo's help, they go and investigate the egg and Tubbo shows his lack of care for his own safety. He tries to break open the egg, challenges Bad and Ant to a pvp and suggests to continue investigating. But at this point, Ranboo has noticed this recklessness and gently reminds Tubbo of Michael.

From this point, Tubbo seems to be healing again. And then to make things better, Tommy is back and they are going to kill Dream but that's okay because it hasn't really settled yet. Tubbo is once again shaken by Tommy's return and follows him in silence to make sure he is really there. He is so worried about Tommy, he reaches out to MIA Ghostbur to help him.

Tubbo is still self destructive but less so after this. He still jumps off high places but does so more out of trust. He finally gets a bed in Snowchester and things seem to be looking up.

But then Tommy's words about Dream settle in. Dying is no longer permanent and Tubbo has things he wants to protect. To do this he recommissions the nukes but is panicked when one is stolen.

We have no idea where it is going to go from here, but I can already see some problems with Tubbo's increasing paranoia.

In addition, the details about the nukes and their suicide button and Tubbo's willingness to sacrifice himself for the greater good does not bode well.

Overall, Tubbo is a complex character and I greatly enjoy how he is played.

Thank you for reading and let me know if you have any comments!

[otakusheep15]

SFW Alphabet - Solomon

This is for my best friend/mother as she is the biggest Solomon simp I’ve ever seen lol. Also, this is gonna be angsty cause I love writing angsty Solomon

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He pretends to not like affection, but he’s a softie and we all know it. Really, all he needs is a hug and he’ll just melt on the spot. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

One word: chaos. You two as best friends cause untold destruction and cause Lucifer several migraines per day. Being besties with him also means being besties with Asmo, so be prepared for that as well.  

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He loves cuddles. Maybe it’s just the fact that he hasn’t had much physical contact in who knows how long, but he loves any form of contact. His favorite ways to cuddle is him on his back with you either laying on top of him, or on the side of him with your head on his chest. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I can’t see him as the type to settle down, be he’d consider it depending on the person. And while he’s a terrible cook, he’s not half bad at cleaning and other household chores. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d be super blunt about it. Honestly, he’s scared to get with anyone to begin with since, ya know, immortality and all, so it’s been a while since he’s actually had to break it off. His main goal when breaking up with someone is to get them away from him, so he wants to make sure the way he breaks up with them will make them want to stay away. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Afraid of commitment. I imagine the last time he tried to commit to someone was before he became immortal, so having to watch them die made him vow to never get that close to anyone again. Then he met you, and all of that has been thrown out the window. He might try and rush things a bit, but he just wants as much time with you as possible. So, while he is afraid to commit, he’ll do it for you. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s bad at human interaction, so he might not know if he accidentally hurts you, but he’ll be quick to apologize once he realizes. Honestly, he’s better at being physically gentle since he can control that better than emotions.  

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Loves hugs. They’re one of his favorite things ever. He just finds such comfort in them, and they’re great for stress relief. His hugs are a bit on the aggressive side, but they’re still very enjoyable. 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He’d say it on accident. And then he’d try to play it off to hide how embarrassed he is. It is pretty early on, but he does mean it with all his heart. Please say it back, he hasn’t heard it in a while. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He gets extremely jealous. Like, you spend so much time with the brothers and he can’t stand that. Of course, he would never admit it, but he would try everything he can think of to get you away from them. Once, he almost resorted to food poisoning out of sheer desperation. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses differ depending on his mood, but they’re usually soft and full of passion. His favorite place to kiss you is your neck because it gets a nice reaction out of you. His favorite place to be kissed is the top of his head cause he’s secretly a big softy who wants to be babied.  

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s not the most fond of kids, but he’ll tolerate them. They’re are fun to tease though, especially Luke. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

he’s either waking you up at the crack of dawn to work on some new potion, or he’s sleeping in until past noon and refuses to get up. Regardless, you are not leaving his side. If he gets up, he’ll drag you up with him. If he wants to stay in, he’ll hold you there until he’s satisfied. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He’ll usually be up late working on something or other, but he’s never up for too long. He jins you in bed when he’s done, and he’ll cuddle the crap out of you an an apology for keeping you waiting. He’s also fond of talking to you about random stuff that happened throughout the day until one or both of you fall asleep. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

This man is one of the most secretive people to ever exist. He wants to open up to you, honestly he does, but he just can’t. he’s so worried that all of his emotional baggage will drive you away, and he couldn’t stand losing another person he cares about. So, he keeps everything hidden. With time, he’ll start opening up if you push enough buttons. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s really good at pretending he’s patient. On the outside he’s his same-old self, but on the inside he’s fuming. His patience tends to wear especially thin around the brothers (except Asmo). It’s a mixture of jealousy for how much time they spend with you, and anger that they refuse to make a pact with him. But he keeps it all under wraps. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He does remember a good bit of information, but he sucks at remembering small details. For example, he may know what month your birthday is in, but he cannot remember the actual date. Or, he would remember your favorite movie genre, but not your favorite movie in said genre. He tries his best though. 

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He loves this one time where you tried to help him cook something. You were tired of dealing with the mess that is his cooking skills, and you wanted him to make something that wouldn’t kill you. Everything started out fine until you accidentally get some flour on him. It wasn’t much, but still. He just turns to you without saying anything before launching some flour right back at you. And then the casual baking session turns into an all-out food war. The kitchen is a mess and you two end up getting scolded by Simeon later, but it was totally worth it.  

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Oh he’s very protective. I mean, you’re a defenseless human surrounded by powerful demons who want to eat you, of course he’d be protective. He would never mean to over-bearing, but he can come off that way sometimes. He used to protect those he cared about before he became immortal, so the habit comes back with you now. He doesn’t need protecting for obvious reasons, so it’s all the more reason to focus on protecting you. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Surprisingly, he prefers more lowkey dates. Maybe it’s because he rarely gets any alone time with you, but he loves just chilling out together practicing magic. if you did want to go out, he would take you somewhere in the Human World to get away from all the chaos of the Devildom. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Obviously, his cooking could kill a man, but we’re gonna move past that since it’s low hanging fruit. Besides that, he has a tendency to by pretty cunning and he’s always planning some kind of prank. He also has a tendency to get jealous of the brothers a lot, and that can make him salty when you guys can finally hang out. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He used to be pretty concerned with his looks, but he’s gotten over it. He still tries to look decent since he is in the presence of some powerful demons, but it isn’t at the forefront of his mind. Although, since becoming besties with Asmo, his vanity has started picking up again.  

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Maybe yes, maybe no. He’s had to deal with loss several times over, so he could probably learn to deal with it like he did before, but you could be different. It really just depends on what kind of impact you have on him during your time together. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

We all know that it’s basically canon that he and Asmo have hooked up before lol. But I also lowkey think he’s hooked up with both Barb and Satan. I have no real reason as to why I think this, but I do and I’m sticking to it. I don't even ship it that much, I just think he would do something like that. 

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He actually doesn’t like someone he knows he’d get attached to. He doesn't want to go through that pain again, so he wants to remain distant. Also, he doesn’t like someone who doesn’t understand or accept what he’s been through and what he’ll continue going through. He wants someone who understands and who he can talk to about it. 

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He gets very clingy in his sleep. If he’s sleeping with someone, they can expect to be trapped in his arms until he wakes up. And if you try to escape, he just hugs you even tighter. 

[jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav]

so since you're gonna do the avatar!mc au with the entities you think each brother would fear the most (SO excited for that btw, my friend can attest to the fact that i've basically been rambling about tma x om nonstop since the first post you made that put the two together), i'd love to hear your thoughts on which entity each brother would *be* an avatar of, if you're cool with sharing! personally i love the ideas of specifically vast!levi and dark!belphie but i'd love to hear your takes on the concept! <3

So because of how time works, despite receiving this ask on July 12, by the time you see this it’ll be August! So the entire Avatar!MC series should be out by now, which I hope you will/have enjoy/ed. I wholeheartedly agree with the concept of Vast! Levi, which I’ve talked about before (as you know ;) ), but I will happily ramble about it again!

These aren’t gonna be short fics though bc I do Yearn to save that energy for The Longfic, which is still in the planning stages because a) I can’t pick a timeline, and b) trying to match up the timelines of Obey Me and TMA is hard, especially when I tend to have a violent disrespect for actually paying attention to the timing of plot events in both. I already fucked up a part of the plotting because I forgot the order we get pacts with the brothers lmao

Content warnings: Mentions/allusions to tma-typical Spookies, yet another installation of my Cursed Crossover idea, lengthy debates about what makes someone choose to become an avatar of fear, spoilers for Lesson 16+ of Obey Me and S5 of TMA

What Entity Do I Think The Brothers Would Serve? (Cursed TMA x Obey Me Crossover)

Lucifer

So I put him as falling victim to the Eye/Beholding bc of his whole thing about Secrets and Pride being about wanting control over your own image

And he does have a creepy tendency in canon to always know when his brothers are up to some Dumb Shit

BUT! You know what we see in Lucifer’s character that we see in a certain Entity?

A simultaneous manipulation of others and submission to being manipulated by a higher power

That’s right, I think Luci would be a Web avatar

But Winter, Lucifer wouldn’t wanna take marching orders from someone/thing else! He’s too proud for that— You’re right! He doesn’t want to. But he will.

He willingly submitted himself and his family to Diavolo for eternity to get what he wanted (saving Lilith)

And from how much we see him work, it’s safe to say that he’s a pretty damn essential part of running the Devildom

If he really wanted to, he could probably successfully pull a coup on Diavolo

But he doesn’t, because he’s trapped himself by his own honour code

Thus, the sexual tension bromance we all know and love/insist is Deeply Problematic and blacklist (depending on how much you like/hate dialuci lol)

10/10, would fill with spiders again

Mammon

I put Mammon as falling victim to the Buried for pretty obvious reasons

But admittedly picking a fear he’d serve is trickier

I had to get a bit abstract with it, but I think the Hunt might suit him

Not necessarily the primal *cough* and police brutality *cough* parts of the Hunt tho

More like how Basira was considered an avatar of the Hunt in the fearpocalypse because of her mission/promise to Daisy

See, Greed can stem from fear

Fear of losing what you have, of no longer being able to support yourself, of being preyed upon by others

So people become greedy as a defense mechanism, to protect what they have

If they’re on the offensive, they won’t be targeted

Also, if you’re constantly pursuing more more more, there’s no time to think about anything else

Like consequences, or guilt, or Feelings

If Mammon let his little tough guy act go too far for too long, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to say he could start heading down the path to avatarhood

After all, people pay big money for hitmen and bounty hunters…

Leviathan

As I said last time, I can see why people would associate Levi with the Lonely first: he’s a shut in, he acts like he wants nothing to do with people/would rather be alone, and I get it

BUT! All of that actually stems from the fact that Levi has terrible self-esteem and thinks he deserves to be this gross shut in loser

While envy can make you want to bring others down to your level, so to speak, Levi tends to just shun “normies”, not actively conspire to sabotage them

He actually does crave understanding and to have people in his life, he just doesn’t know how to go about it

Boy’s got Mega Social Anxiety is what I’m saying (funny how both the Lonely and the Eye can be real bad for that, huh)

But the Vast? Nihilism? Takes all the pressure off

If everyone is a small, insignificant speck in the face of an uncaring, unfathomably large cosmos, who cares what you do? Who cares what people think of you?

Yeah, you’d be kinda weird too if you stared into the infinite abyss of the ocean and realized it was just the maw of a gargantuan sea monster too, Karen, lay off

Plus aesthetically, the great Awful Deep most people fear in the ocean is a comfort to Levi

And again, THE VAST IS MORE THAN JUST THE SKY

I WENT ON A BOAT ONCE

LIKE REAL FAR OUT, SO I COULDN’T SEE LAND FOR DAYS

IT WAS JUST ENDLESS B L U E

AND I WAS ON A CRUISE IN THE CARIBBEAN

I SAW A FRACTION OF THE OCEAN’S S U R F A C E AND IT WAS I M M E N S E

Did you know we’ve only explored like 5% or whatever of our oceans? Think about that! Every Single Thing we know about what’s in there is just the tip of the iceberg!!! GOD KNOWS WHAT’S DOWN THERE!!! PROBABLY FUCKED UP FISH IS WHAT

*ahem* anyway, fishee

Satan

Another tricky boi

I marked him down as fearing the Desolation, as a reflection of what he fears most in himself

I probably could have also gone with Slaughter, but I’d say that’s more baby/early-Satan

Desolation is also about destruction of potential, and Satan has very carefully built himself into a non-rage-monster person

So tearing that all away from him is :)))

But what would Satan give himself over to?

Ceaseless Watcher, I want that twink OBLITERATED—

Satan clings to knowledge and erudition to distance himself from the rage he was born as

“Watch and learn” is literally how he became a person

I find it deeply funny that it could also easily be how he becomes a monster once again

Also if you think the avatar of Wrath wouldn’t have a use for supernatural blackmail you’re just straight up incorrect

Couple that with Satan’s various connections and he’d be a Force to Reckon With

Asmodeus

I put him as a victim of the Corruption bc I found it extremely fitting considering the duality of his romanticized image vs the “dirty” fluid-filled nature of Lust.

Lust can be really nasty, but as licentious as Asmo’s supposed to be, he’s surprisingly coy

(now part of that comes from the fact that Obey Me isn’t strictly 18+/full-on porn, but still)

There’s a lot of Interesting Ideas to unpack there with attitudes towards sex vs sensuality and idealisation vs reality

Now as for an avatar… I debated this for a very long time, tossing around Eye, Stranger, Spiral, even Web for like one second

But I think I’ve got it

Slaughter!

Specifically the musical/random outbursts of violence side (not so much the war side)

Why? Well for one, Biblical Asmodeus is said to “"transport men into fits of madness and desire [...] with the result that they commit sin, and fall into murderous deeds (Testament of Solomon, verse 23).”

But also, Obey Me Asmo’s affair with that portrait chick from the earlier lessons started a whole ass war

Like it or not, the boy is very good at instilling manic violence in people

They don’t call it bloodlust for nothing

Beelzebub

I paired Beel with an End avatar MC bc the boy fears losing his loved ones like he lost Lilith

You could argue that Desolation would fit there too but I liked how it fit Satan better

Now as for a Vibe…

I’m tied between Flesh and Corruption tbh

Though corruption is mostly bc buge :)

So I’ll talk about the Flesh

So uh, mass consumerism, meat is meat, cannibalism… see where I’m going?

Ignoring the Hans because that was super racist, the two Flesh avatars I remember best are Jared Hopworth and The Guy Who Stuck His Arm in a Spooky Meat Grinder To Feed His Buds

I think of Jared in relation to Beel not because of the gym thing, but because his very chill/apathetic attitude towards his patron is similar to how I’d picture Beel’s approach to all this

Like “well, guess I’m here now”

I love Beel as much as everyone else, but he’s not exactly apologetic about his… habits

Not to the degree that he’d actually try and change them anyway

So if he got started on the path to Flesh avatarhood, he’d be pretty fucked

Belphegor

I put Web for him as a fear almost entirely because of the concept of Uno Reverse Card, ngl

It does technically tie into his whole thing about being trapped in the attic, since he’d denied all agency and freedom in there, but… Uno Reverse

Dark!Belphie is an interesting concept, and MAG86 “Tucked In” is iconic, but tbh I don’t really… Get the Dark

Don’t get me wrong, put me in a dark place and I will be scared, I don’t like not seeing things, but I have a hard time wrapping my head around why one would become an avatar of the Dark

It’s not a very “primary” fear imo? Like, I’m scared of the dark bc I can’t see what’s there, ie. a threat could be there and I wouldn’t know, but intellectually I know it’s just the absence of light. That’s not really spooky on its own.

I guess what I’m saying is I can attribute spookier things related to the Dark better to other Entities, so I’m not sure what its draw is specifically

According to the Entity Sexiness Survey I did a while back, there’s apparently some Catholic stuff going on with the Dark so maybe that’s why i don’t get it lmao

Anyway I’d put Belphie down for Spiral

“What lies behind a smile” indeed cowboy

Apparently it’s getting choked

Is it because MC’s entire relationship with him is originally founded on a lie?

Is it because the Spiral deals with distortions in your perception, gaslighting gatekeeping girlbossing, as well as foggy liminal mental spaces like between sleep and consciousness, death and life?

Is it because I think Belphie would absolutely delight in driving someone bananas by fucking with their dreams until it bleeds into their waking life?

Is it because being a person or consistent being at all is too much effort, consistent internal geography is hard, fuck it, just be an endless twisting series of hallways?

Yes :)

[cleololax]

Lotto | A | Chapter One

MafiaBoss! UndergroundCriminal! Yoongi x Strugglingwaitress! Y/N

Word Count - 3,210

Yoongles has his silver hair in this one 👌🏼. Smut will be in future chapters. Enjoy !

The smell of grease and bacon has your brain pounding in your skull. A normally pleasant smell can get old after an 8-hour work shift, 5 days a week. Dave rings the bell once again and you zig-zag between the tables trying to get there, refilling empty coffee mugs and fetching missing condiments on the way. Another day, another measly dollar.

By noon, your feet need a rest and you need a break. The sneakers squeeze your feet so much it feels like they might bring you down a size permanently. Marla comes from the back, chewing that cheap gum that’s bought wholesale. You hand over the paper tab and fill her in before heading into the back room. Lunch is spent eating a stale sandwich with stale lettuce and softening tomatoes that can leave an unpleasant aftertaste. Mentally, there’s a reminder set to see what they have at the food pantry this week.

Hopefully, your brother ate his lunch. It’s not like he likes it anyways and you can't blame him for it. Anxious thoughts are interrupted when Mina opens the door in all of her cheerfulness.

“Y/N, someone is asking for you.” She must see your furrow brows cause she continues.

“Says he needs to see you, it’s been a while. Is he a bad ex? Should I get rid of him?” Her worry makes you inwardly smile and you head to the sink. “No, it’s ok. I’ll be right there.” She leaves with a nod. The smile drops the minute she does. What could he possibly want now? Something uneasy stirs in your stomach. It could be the food just devoured, but there is something more pressing at the moment. The dim hallway is empty and you carefully walk out, counting the black and white tiles. With your head held high, you walk towards the booths.

The blue hair peeks out from the top of the divider. He always sits in the left corner of the room, drinking a lemonade. Always at the same time. Always on time. You walk towards the table and sit down. Taehyung offers a small nod of his head in acknowledgment. Or at least that’s what he says his name is. The first time he had waltzed in, he turned heads. A beautiful man in a crisp Armani suit isn’t exactly discreet. You came out to greet him and asked if you knew each other when he uttered one word. Your father's name. From then on you knew whatever came of this interaction, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. That bastard had ruined your family and still, it's not enough. He continues to cause destruction, long after he’s been gone.

Taehyung's tan skin and blue hair are a striking match. Chocolate eyes study the way you clench your hands together on the table, steadying shaky fingers. Pretending to hold it all together.

“Hello, Y/N.” He asked for your name the first time and you refused to give it. Years of watching sketchy people walk in and out of your apartment teach you to be wary. By the next meeting, he had it on his tongue in greeting. Perhaps a show of how much they really knew and were able to find out what they wanted.

“I have a note for you from Mr. Min. It’s appropriate to now set up a formal meeting. Tonight.” The previous suspicion is proved correct. This elusive Min wants to meet and it has your heart sinking.

“I have my brother to pick up from school.” Demons may thrive and bath in the night, but the rest of us don’t have that luxury to choose.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to make arrangements. We could send one of our men to do it... if you want.” Absolutely fucking not. You may be bad at surviving, but stupid is not in your nature.

“I’ll work it out.” It's the first time you keep eye contact with him since he arrived. While he notices the sudden determination, you notice the prominent mole on his nose. He’s handsome in a catalog type of way. they must have to be, to make the jobs easier. His tan skin glows, even in the gloomy shadow that the grey skies cast into the room.

“There will be a car parked outside your residence to pick you up.” Being in a car with these people doesn’t seem like such a good idea, either. The next words are painful to say.

“It’s ok, I’ll walk.” He quirks a brow and looks sideways at the droplets sliding down the window.

“It’s going to be raining heavy tonight, though.” His deep voice fills you with dread. Especially because there is an underlying tone of sympathy in it. On cue, lightning roars from somewhere above the popcorn ceiling. Hopefully, it’s enough to distract him from the fidgeting.

He gets up to leave but not before looking down at your slumped form, trying to ignore how tired and pitiful you look. Deliver and leave. That’s the job as a messenger. All of the five times he has come here have made him wonder who you are. What put you in the sights of a man like his employer. You are young, but there is so much sadness already. Ironically, he knows how you must feel. Against his better judgment, he fixes his collar and is gone as quickly as he came. Don’t ask, don’t get involved with the debtors. It’s easier that way. All you can do is place your head on the table and zone out for a little. It’s the go-to self-care these days. Just to pretend that you don’t exist in this form in time, that you can blend in with the background and disappear. Not for the first time, you curse your luck, family ties. What have I been roped into?

When the sun sets, your legs are already carrying you down the street before Lina can change her mind. Thankfully, it isn’t pouring down yet. Closing the diner is normally your job and it is a dreaded task. Anything can happen in that timespan and it keeps the adrenaline constantly flowing. A girl alone in a diner with a cash register is a golden opportunity. It’s hard to feel like beyond the windows there aren’t eyes, waiting in dark street corners. After a couple of blocks, the old orange apartment building comes into view. At one time it must have been nicer and that's hard to picture. Mr. Shihan is playing cards with another older man on the sidewalk when you come up to the gate. Their concentration is fully on the game and he doesn’t give his normal greeting. He’s a sweet man with a terrible habit. The courtyard is empty. There are barks and kitchen sinks running, loud televisions that have no consideration. Unfortunately, there are no stairs and after long days, it’s hard not to just want to sit down on the dirty, concrete floor and fall asleep. Before you reach the 5th floor, you wait at the entrance to the hall on the 4th. It’s taken time for you to stop caring what others think of your situation, the disapproving comments, and glances from the teachers at your brother's school and almost anywhere you go. Too young, give him up to the state. Can’t take care of him, look how skinny he is, look how tired. People who look from the outside and have the luxury to judge. You are old enough to take care of him and he belongs with you. You’re the only family you two have left.

It’s only when you need help that it kills you to see Mrs. Litska. She’s an old woman who was able to babysit your brother while you are at work. With one knock, the door opens and you are met with a frown on her crinkled face. You don’t have time to say much, you just give her the envelope of this month’s pay and step inside. Your brother is asleep on the brightly foiled couch in the dim living room that smells of baked bread. The sound of Vivaldi comes through the ancient radio on the side table. His little fingers hold tightly onto the Spider-Man plushie picked out at the thrift store a while ago. It’s seen better days, but they are insuperable. Placing the stuffed item to the side, one arm loops around his shoulders to him up to place his head on your shoulder. The kid could sleep through anything.

The both of you head upstairs into your own living quarters. The lights don’t turn on when the flip is switched and you sigh as you try your best to remain close to the wall.it proves to be hard with your body ready to give out, but you ultimately make it to the room and place your brother into the squeaky bed. The candles are pulled from the drawer and each one settles into every corner of the space nicely.

Finally, you take off your partially wet clothes and put them into a pile by the tub. At least the water is warm as your body slowly leans down into it. Suddenly, the room is quiet and it’s hard to let yourself float away. It’s eerie and not comforting at all. It never is. There is no next destination besides a dreaded one, no way to work yourself towards, hanging on through the blissfully hard distractions that take up your life. They allow you to not stop, to not think about where you could be. Staying busy saves you from reaching into yourself too much.

Minutes tick by, a full half-hour before your skin is soggy and the water is cold. Still, it's better to be here than think that in another hour you could be trafficked and the little boy in the other room sleeping peacefully would have no one left. Mother dead, father gone, sister missing. It brings a chill to the room and it’s suffocating. Once you’re dressed casually, you check in on your brother who is still tucked in, his breathing mellowed out. Here’s to hoping he stays asleep and doesn’t wander through the place at three in the morning to an empty apartment. You kiss his forehead and bring his plushies within reach. They crowd the space around him, cocooning him in.

With one last safety check and blowing out the candles, you lock the door from the outside and move along the hallway down to the stairs.

Your neighborhood is wet and dark at this hour. Thankfully, you are prepared with a switchblade and pepper spray bought last week. It’s three blocks to the main streets where more people walk with umbrellas. Men in suits getting home and families hurrying to their cars. The shop lights flash, shop windows showcasing fried chicken and ice cream. Your stomach automatically grumbles.

Your umbrella holds up for the most part until the lights start to separate and the streets once again turn dim and dirty. The sudden gusts of wind fold it in and it snaps. Soda cans and bags of junk food litter the edges of cement. Shops on this side are all closed, bars and steel curtains drawn. Every little sound has the back of your neck standing up. A tabby cat pops up from under a beat-up truck and it has your heart momentarily stop. Hopefully, it’s around the corner. Your hands shakily open the worn piece of paper to try and locate the street. Luckily, it’s one street down. Once you turn the corner, you head right into a narrow alley. The pepper spray is held onto tightly with clammy hands.

The situation is starting to look sketchier as you go on. Once you reach the dead end, something to the left catches your peripheral vision. Off to the side is another narrow path, much shorter than the one you just went through. It leads directly to a steel door with a neon sign right above. The letters that read Welcome bathe the entrance in blue and red. When you come closer, you notice a little plant to the side. As if it can hide the strangeness of it all when all it does is highlight. Still, the harshness of the surroundings doesn't reach this corner. For a while, you stand there as the rain continues to patter. The sign buzzes and flickers. Your clothes get more soaked but you refuse to move forward. I’m a bad bitch, I’m a bad bitch. I got this. There is vibration coming from the floor beneath your feet. The door opens and a big muscular man gestures for you to come in. This is how it starts. A cliche buff bouncer opening the rope to the gates of hell. He stares and steps aside, gesturing again. Maybe you could have made a run for it before he appeared. Not now. It would be useless. They will come looking. These people always collect. You’ve seen it before. Ultimately, the decision has been made by someone else. There's more to lose if you don't and with a tug of your bag, you trudge forward.

What you had been imagining this past week was apparently absurd compared to the vision that lay in front of you now. There was no blood, no people begging for you to help them escape. No blindfold, just plenty of men and women holding down handles at the slot machines that showed them all the wrong symbols. You walked through the desperation into another area of green felt tables and cards being dealt. The air is stuffy and it smells of smoke and alcohol. Apparently, no one else is bothered. Ahead of you, a tall man is pressing on something in his ear with a meaty hand. Darting your eyes around, you take in more. Before confusion settles in on where to go you find the answer. From the second floor, Taehyung holds onto the railing, looking around. Your eyes meet and it’s strangely intimate. Too intimate. It must not be hard to be found when your clothes are wetting the floor beneath you.

He walks towards you with a small smile. His cobalt blue suit stands out and there’s a dangly earring hanging from one ear. His appearance is much flashier than it was the last time you saw him. With one look behind you, he leads you both up the stairs. On the way, you internally chide yourself for wearing what you are now. The wet clothes make you feel like a little sewer rat. You feel like ratatouille and the confidence that brought you here is dwindling. Instead of a shoddy warehouse that was expected, you are venturing deeper into a maze of halls with red carpeting and gold-rimmed mirrors. Eyes remain forward, but your mind tries to remember every sharp turn, every step that takes you further away from an exit. It is not hard to conjure up terrible, gruesome images and they flash a mile a second. There is only silence and you do not expect anything else. Finally, Taehyung comes to a halt and you almost bump into his back. The door is red and for some reason, it hits you know what big of a mistake you have made. You feel like you’ve been personally delivered to hell’s gates. No one knows where you went tonight. They could get rid of your body and no one would look. It would be easy. Just a poor, young person who could have been tossed or thrown into the river. Another cold case, another victim. He knocks on the door in a pattern of sound and pauses. Must be a code of some sort. Loud noises and laughter get closer until the door opens abruptly and an older gentleman with peppered gray hair greets the man next to you.

“Tae, my boy. Yoongi was about to cheat again.” Tae? Yoongi? This stranger’s excitement has you even more on edge. Your palms are now sore from clenching and cutting at them with overgrown nails. Taehyung moves forward and he smiles as an arm is put around his shoulder. There’s conversation but you don’t hear any of it. Somehow you get yourself inside the room and the door shuts right after. There’s even more smoke and laughter and a champagne bottle being popped somewhere. It all whizzes by. On the outside, your face must seem neutral but the inside is ringing with alarms and warnings. It feels like there’s a hole in the pit of your stomach. Somewhere along the way, the older gentleman named Lee went off to talk to some people on a chase couch against the wall.

There is a long gambling table at the end of this well-sized room and it seems to be the destination. When you get closer, there are about eight people around it. Mostly men with frowns. It must be the small number of chips in front of them. That doesn’t matter a second later though. Not when you catch the sight of the man sitting at the head of it. There’s a force that seems to be pulling everything in space to him, everybody. Bluish Silver hair catches the lighting of the small chandelier above as he gets up with a flute in between pale hands. His fingers grab a couple of chips from his pile which is no doubt the biggest of them all. They twirl in his ring-clad fingers. The veins line them and it’s hard to not stare. The robe that hangs off his lean figure looks decadent and expensive, so much so that it would stop the question of why he is wearing it entirely. There’s so much to take in. His face is gorgeous. His gummy smile numbs the feeling of panic that set in before. He gets closer, or perhaps you do. The two of you walk up to him. Realization dawns in then. Fuck My life.

“Mr.Min, this is miss Y/N.”

[itsnothingofinterest]

A recent topic of discussion I’m seeing lately is whether or not Endeavor will or should die before series end. And surprisingly, even from people who don’t really like him & are willing to rightly call him out are saying he should live. For a variety of reasons too; such as death being the easy way out of consequences for him, that he’d become a martyr if he dies, it’s better if he lives to make things up for his family with his actions, and other such points. So I just wanted to get my own complicated thoughts on the matter out there.

Because I happen to agree with all of those points.

But I also still think Endeavor should die.

And to be clear, that’s not because I think he’s a bad person (although I do; he’s a type of horrible equal yet opposite to the League really). Actually, when I think about it, I find I don’t much care for if he deserves to live or die or what it would mean for his character; I only really care about what it would mean for the people around him and their relationship with him. Really, my view on the matter is Fuyumi’s in reverse; which is to say I think him dying would take his family members in a good (or at least more interesting) direction.

Mainly Shoto & Touya, although it’s not like I don’t think the rest of the Todorokis lives wouldn’t be improved by a severe long term reduction of Endeavor in their lives. There’s just, y’know, more to talk about with those two.

Shoto

For Shoto, I’ve mentioned this before, but he’s in a really weird place with Endeavor, with obstacles of various natures in the way of really addressing his issues with him or reaching the conclusion it seems he’s supposed to reach with him (and also his character's conclusion in general). Obstacles that I think Endeavor dying would help remove.

For one, Shoto’s not really thought about his own feelings on his father for the longest time; always putting that on the back-burner in favour of how Endeavor is useful to him in one way or another. Whether that be as a good mentor & networking connection, or as a tool to mend his family’s hurt, or most recently as someone who can bring him to Touya or Touya to him. And I’m not exactly sure that’s healthy.

And that’s why I think Endeavor dying might actually be good for Shoto; it would force Shoto to stop thinking of his father in terms of his utility and finally address his own feelings towards the man. All that stuff he’s put aside because they’d interfere with more pressing matters, won’t interfere anymore. He might finally be able to actually resolve his conflict with him. I mean, he’d have to if Endeavor were dead; you kind of get the final word in that scenario.

It would also make ‘forgiving’ his father, something he’s foreshadowed to do eventually & to some extent, easier and more palatable for him. See, to forgive someone who’s still alive and active is, in part, ceasing to hold what the forgiven did against them and no longer look to hold them accountable. Which would be somewhat off-putting with Endeavor, who hasn’t really made up for what he did, or done much to apologize to Shoto at all. If they’re dead though, then the act becomes a lot more about letting go of your own anger for your own benefit. Which I am into, because I am far more interested in what is for Shoto’s benefit than Endeavor’s.

Additionally, I kind of just think Endeavor being gone for good would be good for the structure of Shoto’s story arcs. See, Endeavor has this horrible habit of making his family’s story lines all about himself; and Shoto, a supposed major character, suffers from this more than anyone else. The Todoroki story line, which is meant to be his story line, has stared Endeavor for so long now. Even Shoto’s basically let him take the lead. It feels like Endeavor being permanently removed from the picture one way or another is the only real way to make Shoto the star of his own arc again.

Dabi

Dabi is also a character that’s made to revolve around Endeavor, just in more obviously unhealthy and downright destructive ways. His only goal in life seems to be ruining Endeavor and all he stands for, happily destroying himself and whatever else must be sacrificed along the way; in fact I’m not unconvinced he’s planning a murder-suicide with his abuser, he’s so single-mindedly and self-destructively focused on ruining Endeavor.

And so one day I had a thought. “What would he do, if Endeavor died, and he was still alive?”

It’s a question I’ve thought about a lot, because he does in fact have things going for him outside his dad. He’s got a found family that supports and cares about him, he’s got a cushy job (if his underlings get broken out of jail anyway), and he’s got plans for the future. He just doesn’t expect to be there for it or take any direct part in building it. But he might if he inadvertently has no choice.

This is why the idea interests me so much: if Endeavor were dead, what would Dabi do? Would he finally start working with his fellow villains in earnest and open up to them? Would he be able to find new purpose, maybe taking direct action towards bringing about the future he wants? If so, how would he do that? I mean I doubt it would all be good & healthy, because if it was then Shoto wouldn’t really need to intervene to close out the Todoroki plot line; but it would all be forward progress for a guy who’s been stuck in the past since he was a kid, and that’d be an intriguing development.

(Also, just to throw out an idea to consider in this idea we’re considering: If Endeavor were to die saving Touya, whether from an external threat or by making sure he survives his murder-suicide attempt, that could have a further interesting effect on him. Like, I don’t think it’d mean Touya would forgive him by any means, but it would likely leave him very confused and unsure of things, and maybe Shoto could make use of that in saving his brother.)

In short, I think Endeavor should die for both his sons’ character arcs. His, preferably permanent, absence from their lives feels like it may be a necessary ingredient in their growth, independence, and reconciliation. And if a character I don’t particularly really like has to die for that; a more than fair trade I say.

[yoursecretmuse]

My Perception On No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai

🥀 This year has brought me many joys, that have left me with melancholy victories. I have been venturing out of my usual book genres and I've found a selection of well to do books that I simply cannot live without. How I've existed this far without them, I will never know. There are many different types of literature out there and of course I only focus on English and European Literature. Not because I'm bias  in some way. But I've always found American and European culture very interesting. Despite ignoring my very own culture. It had never occurred to me, that until now, I have never heard of Asian Literature. It's like an unknown phenomenon that no one speaks of. When I think back of my studies in school, I've never even heard of my teachers mentioning Asian writers at all. It was like they didn't exist or people found Asian culture not important enough to read about. Which is odd because in Asian countries they have liberties filled with European novel and American novels. Is it safe to say that Asian people find European and American culture interesting, though we do not share the same feelings toward them. Nevertheless, I stumbled upon Osamu Dazai after reading a mutual friends post about Vincent Van Gogh. It was a silly meme that consisted of Van Gogh and Osamu talking over their depression. Which is not something to joke about but I must confess I found it humorous. Through that humor, I decided to research Osamu and the rest is history. So, here is my thoughts on the exceptional book, No Longer Human. I want to give an in-depth review without giving the book away too much (if at all). But I must warn you that spoilers may become a possibility. No Longer Human is broken into three parts, including an introduction in the beginning by Donald Keene, as well as a Prologue & Epilogue by Osamu Dazai himself. So, to make things easier to understand, I'm going to review each part individually.

The Introduction Normally, I would skip this part of the book because at times it can be very boring and bland. But after reading The Sorrows of Young Werther by Johaan Wolfgang Von Goethe, I found it important to read book introductions because they can have valuable information about the writer. In this section, Donald Keene noted how under appreciated Asian writer are in literature. For some odd reason, American & Europeans cultures specifically seem to feel like we cannot learn anything from Asian culture. Perhaps it has something to do with our history with going to battle with certain Asian countries. Yet, that did not stop countries like Japan and China from filling their liberties with American & European literature. Which upsets me. Had it not been for Van Gogh, I would have missed out on an extremely talented writer. I'm not sure who is to blame for this but I find the idea of not representing Asian writers outside of manga is shameful and sad. There is more to their culture than just that. However, as a whole our world only views Asian people in a small and certain light, that barely gives them any kind of positive recognition outside of the obvious stereotypes. In short, I really urge everyone to take time and read the introduction and share your thoughts on Keene's and my views. What do you think and why is Asian literature so lost and underrepresented? Why do Asian writers rather be on the bottom of American top writing lists, than the top of Asian writer lists? It is very interesting.

🥀

The Prologue In this section, you learn of how Ōba Yōzō (aka Dazai himself) feels alienated and very much of a misfit. He tells you how all of his life he has worn a mask to hid his true sensitive and self destructive self. He harshly criticizes himself and informs you of how he feels about the nature of "humans" and how he never felt like one, thus making him believe that he is not. I like this part of the novel because I can relate to it in so many ways. Many things he explained and said is how I felt (and still very much feel) about myself. Not only of my appearance and state of being but also without people. We both share the same reflection on our confidence or lack there of as a child. I shared his thoughts on normality being ugly and being bland and not standing out is worse than being ugly or beautiful. He even goes on to explain that death has more of a soul or an expression than him. The ugly/void he felt as a child (as well as his whole life) has manifested into a visible void, that crept from his inner darkness and it carries a bland look. Which to me speaks volumes. 🥀

The First Notebook Unable to cope with the world around him, Ōba begins to become a jokester and class clown, in order to mask away the alienation that he feels. He engages in planned fails and acts as if he has no clue as to what he does. He tells us of his environment at home. His father always being gone on business and his mother he did not mention much. He speaks of his maids/servants mistreating him, but he never reported them because he sees it as pointless. We also learn he views a "human" as someone who is happy and hopeful. Perhaps, attractive in some way and could possibly have a great deal or comfortable amount of money. Which is strange because his family were quite wealthy and well known. He speaks of how he feels his life is a shame and the life of a "human" was not cut out for him. There is much more to be said here but I do not wish to spoil everything. I still want readers to get a wow factor from this book, without knowing every details and topic. 🥀

The Second Notebook A very key factor in this part is that Ōba is caught by another student named Takeichi who suspects and confronts him on faking his fall during "gym" class. This sends Ōba into a manic behavior and he somewhat becomes obsessed with Takeichi and fears that he will expose him for being a fraud. I found this interesting given Takeichi had no intention on exposing Ōba or telling anyone about his opinions on his stunts. Certain things happens and the two become somewhat of friends and Takeichi began to mention things to Ōba that were predicting and in a way life changing for Ōba. Ōba also finds an strong interest in art, which leads him to start painting. Ōba also becomes apart of a communist group and becomes a respectable member. Though, he does not share their same views and is only there because he views them as misfits. In this section, a young man now, Ōba meets someone by the name of Horiki. Horiki is also a college student but exposes Ōba into an unfortunate and dreadful life cycles, that pleasures and destroys him further. He also tries to commit suicide with a woman named Tsuneko, who dies but he does not. This even tears him apart and causes his family to the verge of disowning him. 🥀

The Third Notebook: Part One Ōba begans to have multiple affairs with different women, from different walks of life. He becomes a heavy drinker and is expelled from college. He becomes too focus on self destruction, he was not able to create or focus on his artwork. He tries to quite smoking and drinking. But struggles terribly. He marries a young girl, who tries to encourage him to stop drinking and for awhile it works. And for a moment Ōba is happy. The two both marry and move in together. 🥀

The Third Notebook: Part Two Working as a cartoon and sober, Ōba feels somber toward marriage life. He thinks of his wife as native and innocent. But he falls into bad habits once he is visited by an old friend named Horiki, who (with Ōba) witnesses Ōba's wife being sexually assaulted by an associate friend. Ōba begins to blame himself, as well as his wife and becomes manic and fills himself with alcohol and is committed into a mental hospital. After leaving his wife for another woman. This parts ends with him being brought to a home that his brother purchased for him and given the money he needed for living and personal interest. Ōba is left feeling empty and recounts his choices and views of hisself. 🥀

Epilogue We are then given the prospective of an outsider, who wanted to meet Ōba but fails. He then meets a friend of Ōba and she gives him the three notebooks. The man is intrigued by the notebooks and decides to publish them. We are left with a reflects of Ōba's friend telling us that he was a kind and gentle soul, who made everyone laugh and smile. 🥀

My Final Thoughts I believe this is one of the greatest books that I have read. I love the rawness of this book and I adore how the events were true. I feel that Osamu Dazai was a great writer and his death is very unfortunate. I find the way he told his life very interesting and beautiful and poetic. I wish I was able to meet him and praise him for being an amazing artist and writer. But the result would probably remain the same. There is so much that we can learn from Osamu and his life. His perception on life and people is very interesting and a very rare viewpoint on life. I highly suggest that everyone checkout this novel and spread the works of Asian Literature. Thanks For Listening. -𝓒

[femmeharringrove]

see, it's not like steve's ever been good at coping.

it's bad after starcourt, but instead of dealing with it then steve just puts everything into healing others. he comforts eleven, stays on the phone all night with lucas or dustin, helps will learn not to fear the cold, gives billy a shoulder to cry on and a place to live.

and so billy gets a front-row seat to steve's self-destruction.

he doesn't think it's his place to speak, initially, but he does worry when steve leaves early in the afternoon and comes back wasted, bruises on his throat and traces of powder on his clothes. some weekends he doesn't come home, he goes to indianapolis and shows up late sunday evening with a massive hangover and billy just gets him to eat and drink a little before getting him in bed. steve's not eating enough, he's losing weight and billy worries because this is his best friend, not even heather matches their level. and steve's done so much good for him but he doesn't know how to return the favor - not until steve barrels out of the bathroom one night shaking like a leaf, tears streaming down his face. billy takes one look inside, catches sight of two life-changing sticks, and rushes out after him.

and it's then, when he finds steve out by the quarry in a panic, that he knows how to help.

"i didn't mean to get pregnant," steve sniffles, and the moment billy crouches next to him the brunette is shuffling closer, scared and in need of comfort. and billy's still working on the physical thing, learning it's okay to be affectionate, but he doesn't hesitate to hold steve as close as he can.

"i know," he murmurs. "it's okay. we'll figure it out. you aren't doing this alone, you hear me?" and initially billy thinks he's fucked up because steve starts crying again, but when this round of sobs passes the other boy gives him a shaky smile.

"you promise?"

"cross my heart and all that shit." and that's just it. whatever steve needs, billy's got him.

steve initially doesn't want to go through with it, but decides ultimately it could be a good thing. he's thought about parenthood before, always wondered if he could be a better father than his own. this is a chance to prove it. and billy gives him all the support in the world. nobody messes with the only child of the harrington family, they can't afford the fallout, but he's always gotten dirty looks after coming out and they get worse now that he's pregnant. but billy follows him everywhere now amd anyone who gives him a look has to face the blonde's anger. and sure, he's not where he once was. he's still putting on muscle and learning to use his hands again, but half of what makes billy hargrove scary is the way he presents himself, the glare that suggests he knows people won't mess with him. and they don't, amd they don't mess with steve either for the same reason.

and when billy isn't around to do the protecting, steve's got others. joyce has kicked people out of melvad's before, for harassing a fifteen year-old steve. and five years later she still does it, voice calm and eyes steely. claudia is at every appointment he has, making sure the other nurses and doctors call him by the right name and pronouns. she's there when steve sees the baby's hand for the first time and has a breakdown because he's growing a whole person and doesn't know if he'll really be able to take care of them.

and claudia, she remembers being confused and a little judgemental when steve came out as steve, but that was before she caught him shuffling down the aisles of the library one day, small and clearly anxious about everyone he came across. thirteen year-old steve had lacked the easy confidence he sported now, and it was when she saw him that it sort of clicked. she didn't understand how someone could be a gender other than the one they were born as, but she made a point to greet him as steve any time she saw him and made an effort to accept him. now he's like the older son she never had, dustin's big brother, and when he weeps frantically over the daunting trial of parenthood she takes him by the shoulders and gives him the most serious look she can muster.

"nobody is ever ready for parenthood," she tells him, and one hand comes to wipe his tears away. "but you have exactly the heart for this job. you're going to be the best father in this whole town."

which steve doesn't agree with. the best dad in town is hopper.

hopper, who's been harassing people for harassing steve for years, but is more aggressive about it now because steve really means something to him now. sometimes, eleven calls him her brother, and hop figures, yeah, the kid could use a dad. so he makes a habit of checking up on him, and it gets more frequent now because he's also checking on billy, and with a baby on the way hopper's protectiveness is at an all-time high. nobody wants to fuck with the chief, so no one fucks with steve.

when the harringtons find out, steve's dad is livid, but it's steve's mother who keeps him from lashing out. the couple can't stand the blow to their social life and so it's off to lansing for them, a fresh start or whatever. the house stays under their name, though, and steve and billy make it theirs. the cosy master bedroom becomes steve's, billy finally decorates the guest room downstairs as his own. his mother calls sort of regularly, she's not thrilled about the situation but she's eager for a grandbaby to spoil, and steve counts that as a blessing.

of course, the party freaks out when steve announces his pregnancy. it's not like they didn't know steve could get pregnant, but they've never considered the idea that he would. eleven, max, and will are immediately thrilled, discussing baby names and wanting to pat his belly - especially el, who's never really experienced a pregnancy. mike and lucas are a little weirded out, but mike brings steve a bunch of baby books left over from holly and lucas donates his own old toys, declaring that baby harrington was going to be the coolest baby ever if he got to help look out for the little one. dustin doesn't know how to feel initially, which stresses steve out, but when someone throws a slur at steve three weeks after that dustin flips out, yells himself hoarse at the fucker, and declares himself steve and the baby's most ardent protector. the whole group has already discussed babysitting schedules and, yeah, maybe steve did cry about it, but he's pregnant and it was probably the hormones and not anything else, thank you.

robin gently berates him about sleeping with strangers out of town when she finds out, but after that she takes her position as aunt very seriously. within four weeks she buys three outfits, five stuffed animals, and a french record to help the baby learn the language.

"no such thing as too early," she says as she drops it on the dresser in steve's old room. the new nursery.

it's a labor of love, mostly by billy. woodworking is a big help with his hands so he was all too happy to make a crib himself. again, steve cried, but this time he feels it's justified. billy's put a rocking chair in too, and a record player too - "your taste in music is shit," he'd deadpanned as he brought the thing in. "someone's gotta culture the little snot." amd billy does that all the time, he's called the baby a snot, a turd, a little shit, all that jazz. but his face is softer than it's ever been and that makes steve smile every single time.

steve's labor of love starts five weeks early, much to his horror, and it hurts like a bitch. he gives birth early in the morning after a rainy night. she's a little replica of steve, down to the moles on her cheek, and he doesn't think he's ever known love until he looks at his daughter and feels the almost painful swell in his chest. he cries as he hugs her against his chest and swears on his life he'll do right by this wondrous little girl. her name is nikita - no, not after the elton john song, though later when she asks that's what he tells her, just so she can throw her head back and groan, "daaad!"

no, she's named after his grandmother. and she gets rosaline for a middle name after billy's mother. because, even if they didn't say it, it's clear billy intends to co-parent. he doesn't call it that, he just says he's helping a friend, but he's the one who changes her diaper at night and bounces her to sleep listening to metallica and teaches her to eat spaghetti.

and originally, he's the one she calls dad.

first it's baba, which steve thinks is in reference to the fact that billy bottlefeeds her, and billy thinks it's similar enough to "billy" to not be anything more than that. but she gets older and learns to say billy and steve, and still calls him baba. baba and papa. and to the outside world it makes sense, they're a little family, steve and billy ooze a chemistry anyone else can't deny. but it takes them three extra years to get with the program and become a couple.

to this day, niki claims there aren't more clueless people out than her dads when it comes to love.

[hemera989]

Hot Takes: Yukio Okumura

Aka, 'My Analysis Of Yukio That No One Asked For And Yet I Will Give It Anyways’ asjhdkajshfs also, tw for talk of attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, depression and trauma!

The main reason I felt it necessary to give My Take on Yukio was not entirely because I love him and feel like he’s a lot more immature and human than people like to think though that is a large chunk of the reason. It was rather because recent manga chapters have really gone on to shake up how I view him, and it helps to write things down.

I feel like perhaps it’s best to start chronologically in a way, because there’s no one event that really led to the reveal of Yukio as he is today- depressed, suicidal, and destructive. There is no one reason to point a finger at, or one life event to deconstruct. He’s a product of his personality, childhood, and the overall events that led to his birth. And what better way to start a childhood off, than with bullying?

Considering how traumatic bullying can be, it’s just a little bit surprising to see how much it tends to get glossed over (for both Rin and Yukio). This is where I believe Yukio’s inferiority complex may have developed, or at least started becoming prominent. He was teased and harassed as a child, and unable to defend himself besides relying on Rin to protect him. While Rin was only doing so out of genuine love and care for Yukio, this is likely where his twisted opinion of their relationship began. Rin was good and kind and strong, and defended him out of love, and Yukio was weak and a crybaby, and resented both Rin and himself for how little he was able to protect himself on his own. 

This is where we can see his mindset begin to develop; Rin = good and strong, and Yukio = weak and bad. This even extends to Shiro, which we can see somewhat in what I believe is the Kraken arc.

This also becomes what I believe is the core of Yukio’s character- he does not like himself. Because he hates himself so thoroughly, he doesn’t believe that he deserves to be liked, or even that he genuinely can be liked for who he is. We see this in his conversation with Rin during the Aomori arc, where he remarks to Rin that if Shiemi knew the ‘real’ him, she would hate him. He believes that he is an unlikable person, to both himself and others. 

In a way, this also stems from his relationship with Rin. Rin is in no way at fault for why Yukio is the way that he is, but the friction between their two personalities does deepen their own insecurities. Because Rin is reckless and headstrong, Yukio is forced to be the ‘mean guy’, the one to put his foot down, the one to say ‘no’ because he knows that Rin isn’t often capable of doing so himself. He is forced into responsibilities too intense for him to properly handle both due to Rin’s position as the inheritor of the blue flames, and due to his brother’s personality as the goofy, fun-having teen. (If you’ve ever had siblings, or, hell, even had to be the voice of reason in a situation where people are having reckless fun, you know exactly how this feels.)

When you take how his personality is, you can see exactly how his position as an exorcist has exacerbated this to an almost extreme amount. Though Shiro didn’t do so intentionally, he almost single-handedly createted one of Yukio’s most damaging mindsets- that becoming strong is the only way forward for Yukio. 

(Don’t take this as Shiro slander, I love that man and he tried his best with the complicated history he already has with childhood) Through trying to give Yukio the chance to seize strength for himself, he set off quite a few chain reactions within Yukio’s mindset. First, he associated strength as a person with physical strength. Second, he associated worth as a person with physical strength. Third, he associated Yukio’s strength and worth with Rin, by making exorcism a way to protect Rin from other demons. Foruth, in my opinion, we can see the reduction of Yukio and Shiro’s relationship from a father-son bond to a teacher- student bond. Now, Yukio begins to lose his main support system- his father. Shiro is no longer his dad, but the paladin, a strong man who offered him an unhealthy way forward in life. 

In one decision, we can see how Yukio’s self hatred found an external focus to worsen itself for him. Yukio believes that he is a weak, worthless, and unlikable person. But, now, he does have a purpose, something in life that is worth living for. He begins to develop his entire concept of himself as a person on that of becoming an exorcist, becoming strong, and protecting his brother. He hates himself, but he knows that he can do one thing- protect Rin.

We can also see where his superiority complex begins to develop. Being born human while his brother was born clearly demonic, Yukio has more worth in the eyes of the True Cross. Being the good child, and the smart child with a plan for his future, he has more worth in the eyes of society. He is better than his brother, and he knows it, but he also knows that Rin is (in his eyes) inherently good and kind, and Yukio is not. He is better, but he is also lesser than Rin.

Protecting his brother is also where I believe his relationship with Rin begins to deteriorate to a dramatic extent. Yukio wants strongly to protect him, because that’s where he believes his worth as a person is, but in a way, he resents the burden that’s been placed on him. He has to be the responsible one, the mean one, the assertive one, the negotiator, the one to clean up Rin’s messes, the one to fix everything, the one to give up his entire childhood just for exorcism to protect Rin. Yukio is a child, and one who was denied the chance to be one. He was never allowed the chance to selfishly externalize his emotions (like children should be ALLOWED to do, imo) and so never learned how to process his own emotions.

At this point in his life, he resents Rin for being ‘allowed’ to be selfish and destructive, he resents Rin and the world for having this burden of responsibility put on his shoulders, and he resents himself still for being an unlikable, weak, and worthless person, and for resenting Rin and the world. He is vastly, vastly unhappy and hateful towards himself, and is already suffering in the assortment of circumstances he finds himself in.

And then throw in a murdered dad, because why not?

Now, the burden that was placed on him and shared between himself and Shiro, is now solely on him. On top of having his father suddenly and traumatically killed, he is now responsible (in his mind) for Rin. One could argue Mephisto, but he proved... extremely quickly that he was not interested in the finer details of guardianship LMAO. Yukio now is the sole bearer of Rin’s wellbeing, and he finds very quickly that this is a role he does not (and cannot, as a child himself) succeed in.

Yukio has been thrust abruptly into the world of becoming a parent, in an extremely twisted and awful way. He is a child, in an adult field, surrounded by adults, treated as an adult, and now he essentially is the parent of Rin. This is complicated enough with Rin’s personality, but then you have to add in that Rin is the illegitimate and illegal son of Satan, and his very existence, if revealed, would lead to his certain death. As Rin reveals his powers, gets sentenced to execution, picks fights with Amaimon, uses his powers across Kyoto and in damn near every public space whenever possible, Yukio’s distress and mental state begins to worsen as he realizes that he is failing. 

We can see him begin to externalize his mounting frustrations and anger and fear, through reprimanding Rin harshly, threatening Suguro, threatening Mephisto, and also that scene where he punched the shit out of Rin for being reckless. Yukio needs his brother alive, because Rin is his only family left, and because his worth as a person is tied directly to protecting Rin. It is his only purpose in life, and he is failing at it, and he deeply resents Rin for making it difficult, and himself for failing. His downward spiral begins to become visible around these points, and we can also see the start of his worsening habit of taking his volatile emotions out on others physically.

He is progressively being backed into a corner with no way out, and like a wounded animal, he is lashing out at anyone who dares come close. Yukio’s violent and hurtful behavior towards others is not because he’s an uptight asshole who does it for fun, but because he’s a traumatized, depressed, and suicidal child who is losing the one person he has left and who gives his life worth. He has no substantial guidance from the adults around him, and for all intents and purposes, he is alone. He wants to rely on Rin, but because Rin has a tendency to process negative emotions by shoving them down and away, Yukio can’t rely on him.

This is what I think is the most heartbreaking aspect of Yukio. He is a hurt and lonely child, who is deeply mentally ill, who is losing his brother and lashing out at others because he doesn’t know what else to do. He is acutely aware that he is being cruel and unkind, and he doesn’t want to be. He wants to be good, and kind, and liked, and valued. He doesn’t want to hurt others.

This scene makes this obvious. This is what I believe is the cliff’s edge where Yukio takes the drop that leads him to where he is in the manga now. He is terribly lonely, and hateful, but in a moment where he lashes out emotionally, he managed to do something he feels is well and wholly despicable. Shiemi is the one person he cares for genuinely, healthily, and truly. She wants to help him because she cares for him, and yet he hurts her for daring to mention his largest insecurity- and he knows that.You can see it written across his expression- he’s shocked, and horrified with himself for how he lost control. His hands are shaking.

He managed to do the one thing he feared above all, and that was to let Shiemi see who he ‘truly’ was. He hurt someone who unselfishly cared for him, and this is where he begins to think that he has gone past the point of no return. He is so awful, and terrible, that he hurt someone as kind as Shiemi. He is so worthless that he is failing at the one job that gives his life meaning. He is so evil and cruel that he has shoved everyone away, and now he truly has no one left.

He is worthless, and evil, and terrible- this is how Yukio views himself. Why not kill himself, and then the world would be rid of him?

Except, now another wrench has been thrown in. Yukio finds that, with Satan possessing his eye, he has become worse that worthless and evil and terrible. Now, his life poses a threat to humanity, by allowing Satan a way into Assiah. His life isn’t just worthless now, it’s become an active threat to the world, in his mind. Now, he can rationalize that his death is necessary. He is suicidal, but he has convinced himself that it’s fine, because he needs to die anyways.

This is where I believe he is in the manga, now. He is convinced that he has to die, and says it’s because he wants to save the world from Satan, but it is extremely likely that it’s mostly because he is extremely suicidal. He is hellbent (pardon the pun) on his own death. He will stop at nothing to secure his own death, no matter what it takes. His trauma, his mental illness, his self-hatred- they’re all open and exposed, now. If he’s an evil, unlikable, and cruel person, why not commit to it? Why not make himself the most evil, the most unlikable, the most cruel, if it means someone will finally get tired enough to truly put himself out of his misery?

He’s cast aside his true kindness and gentleness, and has embraced what he believes to be his ‘true’ self. He will die, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens.

That’s my take on him, what I believe his mindset is and how it developed. Yukio is not a hero. He hurt Shiemi, threatened his students, threatened his guardian, and shot Rin multiple times. Whether or not Rin heals from it is irrelevant, Yukio still made the conscious choice to harm Rin, and others. But, he has never done so because he is evil inside. He’s done so because he’s a wounded animal, lashing out, determined to secure his own death. He is a traumatized child who has hurt others. 

He deserves kindness and understanding, but also to be held accountable for his actions. He’s what I believe to be the embodiment of the ugly side of mental illness that many people are resistant to see. His character is uncomfortable to read, because he is startlingly real and three-dimensional. Like many of the characters in aoex, he cannot be classified as good or bad. He is a complex person, with good and bad aspects, like any person in real life.

godDAMN could someone give him a HUG and some THERAPY PLEASE.

[that-random-chaos-entity]

How does your OC display love? What are some habits your OC has picked up?

Forgive me as this is a LONG post, but I felt it would be better to show, rather than tell, this one:

Words could not describe how awkward Perturabo felt being back in the Emperor's palace. It would have been bad enough if it were just his deadbeat father, a half-rotten corpse sitting in an overglorified golden life-support casket, ignoring him as per usual. But it wasn't just his father; so many of his brothers had come for this... ...this Sanguinala... ...in many ways it almost felt like the Heresy had never happened.

Vulcan, Corvus, Fulgrim, ROGAL FUCKING DORN, Magnus.... ...hell, even SANGUINIUS had come back from the dead. Raised by the same mysterious chaos entity that had turned Perturabo's world and soul inside out. Made him live his own life over and over again, through the eyes of the people around him, until he got the point. The people he impacted. The people he used, abused, and destroyed without a second thought. The people he...

...Perturabo shook his head, the physical action somehow dislodging the poisonous psychic tumor from his soul. Even though that parasite was long gone and the Eye of Terror no longer loomed over him, it had been feeding on his twisted spirit for so long that its blasted and withered hide still bled for it. Casting his self-destructive thoughts into the warp. This was a good thing (or so the Lanky Llama said). Though sometimes, when he started to brood and sulk, things would get... ...gummed up. He could shake any errant clots loose himself, but nobody helped the darkness bleed out of him like Nehetari.

And holy shit did he wish she were here right now. When she and her robotic people were around... ...the Lord of Iron actually felt like... ...himself. Or the version of himself that he wanted to be, anyway.

But no, "No xenos allowed at a family gathering," the Emperor had said. Not that it even would have mattered if they were; it was one of those weird weeks where the lanky llama disappeared on him and holed up in her room by herself. Something about a "Necrontyr biological cycle," that would, "likely make her act inappropriately," or "embarrass herself and him," but she would say no more on the matter.

Of course it would happen over the day when he needed--erm could have used her presence the most.

"Aren't you going to open your gifts, brother?"

Perturabo snapped out of his brooding to see Magnus looming beside him. It took him a second to process what he said, but when he did he scowled.

"Gifts Magnus? Really? Do think anyone here would ever give me a gift?"

"Excuse me! What am I, grox manure!?" there was no real irritation in Magnus's voice. He gestured to table in front of Perturabo, where three gifts sat that he could have SWORN were not there before. "And if you must know, you're the only brother here I saw fit to even GET a gift for."

"Aside from Sanguinius."

"Well... ...yeah..." the Crimson King shuffled his wings awkwardly. Both primarchs stole a glance at the MOUNTAIN of gifts that their brother had received. "...b-but he doesn't count."

Perturabo sighed. He didn't feel like feeling jealous of Sanguinius right now. Instead he grabbed the first package; it was obviously Magnus's gift. Whatever was in it was so warp-touched that it levitated a solid three feet off the table and changed size randomly. It turned out to be a small inter-dimensional rift that contained a book of arcane engineering, one that Perturabo had surprisingly not seen before. He thanked his brother; something that drew a surprised look from Magnus and a complimentary hug that Turbo awkwardly returned. The second gift was from Sanguinius, as it turned out, and when he opened the box he saw his own face, reflected in a simple yet elegant mirror. After a moment of wondering if this gift was actually meant for Fulgrim (clone fulgrim), he saw the inscription on the box lid which read, "to my big brother: it brings me joy to see happiness in your eyes now. I hope with this you can see it too."

Perturabo swore under his breath and slammed the box shut, furiously hoping that Magnus hadn't heard him sniffle just a tiny little bit. It was a moving gift to be sure, but after everything that had happened... ...somehow it just made the Lord of Iron feel like garbage. Well... ...more so than usual.

Thankfully, quick-thinking Magnus directed his brother's attention to the third gift. In fact, if he didn't know better, Perturabo would have sworn Magnus seemed even MORE excited for him to open this gift than his own.

"What is... ...is this from...?"

"MHMMM!" Magnus's enthusiasm was all-consuming, his grin audible in his tone. "She asked me come and pick it up from outside her door earlier this morning."

Perturabo's melancholy dissipated into a wave of curiosity. What sat before him was a perfect cube of blackstone, though if he knew anything about Nehetari, he knew that wasn't all there was to it.

Sure enough, when he picked it up, glyphs flashed along its side.

"Is... ...that..."

"Necrontyr," Perturabo murmured in deep concentration. "...and not just any form of Necrontyr; this is Ksakhemet Script."

"What?"

"Think of it as our high gothic. Except it's as if we had a high, HIGH gothic. Only the three Necrontyr kings and their families even knew how to speak this script, let alone how to read and write it. It is ancient, according to Nehetari... ...it's from a time even before the Necrontyr first started their galactic expansion."

Those statements alone were like a different language to Magnus, but his lust for ancient knowledge ignited like a blazing inferno. He would absolutely have to grill both Perturabo AND his xenos companion for more information once she was.... ...*ahem* no longer indesposed.

Perturabo turned the cube over and over in his hands, reading the ornate lettering as best he could. He'd only just started learning how to read Ksakhemet; he couldn't speak it properly because he lacked the extensive Necrontyr vocal range, but the lettering started to make sense the more he plied his fantastic mind.

"It is... ...a puzzle cube. I believe."

"D'AAWWW... How sweet...!"

Perturabo punched his brother in the shoulder, but it phased through his immaterial form.

"Shut your mouth!" He could already feel the heat creeping up his neck and he HATED it. Although he had to admit he was a little touched, if amused, that Nehetari had put together such a... ...thought-out gift.

And well-thought-out it was indeed! It became clear to the Lord of Iron that this wasn't just some slide and lock, physics based puzzle toy for mortal children. It was a custom-made testing tool designed to challenge his understanding of spacial compression, sub-atomic energy transfer, and even Necrontyr cultural theory. Each segment was challenging, unique, and soon he found himself absorbed. Magnus tagged along for the ride of course, and his respect for Nehetari grew each time he heard his brother growl in frustration, or give a small "...Ha! So that's it..."

"She has... ...quite the impressive mind. Especially for a xenos."

Perturabo grunted his affirmation. "...you don't know the half of it. She makes the Hrud look like a bunch of children." With a click the puzzle changed shape in his hands again, "...I would even say she has a mind similar to ours."

"...you don't say..."

"Hmph, she's DEFINITELY smarter than Dorn. I know that for sure."

Magnus chuckled. Of course she was.

The Lord of Iron didn't realize it immediately, but the puzzle cube was meant to serve another function, not just being an intriguing mental exercise. The more he fidgeted with it, the more time passed. Not by some technomantic power or magical means; he was just so absorbed in Nehetari's gift that he didn't notice his brothers packing up their gifts and starting to drift around and away from the throne room. Magnus, realizing he wouldn't be much help with this exercise, had taken notice of the custodes' Captain General (the one they call "kitten") and had begun to chat with him. Sanguinius was now at the Emperor's side, trying to pacify an impatient and belligerent Angron who just wanted to go celebrate Khornnuka with Lotara and Kharn. Corvus had dissapeared to... ...somewhere, and Vulkan was... ....had he somehow jackknifed himself into the psychic fireplace that the Emperor created!? Russ was laughing at him and drinking himself stupid (not that he had many IQ points to lose in the first place), but thankfully nobody was paying any attention to Turbo. Huh, who'd have thought; Perturabo was actually HAPPY that he was being ignored right now.

With a satisfying ding the cube shifted again, and to his surprise, glyphs flashed indicating that this was, in fact, the final challenge.

"Let's have it then. I'm ready..." the Lord of Iron grinned. He flicked the raised pad below the text and the final task scrolled across blackstone. Surprisingly, this time it was in High Gothic.

"...who is... ...my... ...favorite... ...human?"

He stared at the screen, dumbfounded. "Really? After all that, the last puzzle, is 'who's my favorite human?' Really?"

But wait... ...was the answer actually as easy as it appeared? Perturabo wanted to put his own name, but what if he was wrong? What if he wasn't her favorite human? He was hardly even "human" in the first place. Maybe she meant a true, normal human? But if this was supposed to be a present for him, why would she blatantly make him answer that her favorite human WASN'T him. What if...

"Hey nerd, the answer's obviously you."

Perturabo jumped to see Leman Russ passing him.

"What the-! Whe-how did you... ...you can't read!" Perturabo stammered. There was no way Leman just waltzed over here...

The Wolf Lord grinned, "Hey, ye nerds aren't the only ones who know how teh learn things. If I taught meself teh read Fenrisian runes, I can teach meself teh read some wolfin' High Gothic!"

"..."

"...that and I may or may not have used some of meh own psychic powers to read yer mind. You know, teh fill in teh blanks."

Considerably less impressed, Perturabo grumbled as he keyed the letters of his name into the cube. With another ding and a flash of green light, previously invisible cracks along the cube's surface began to glow and the cube began to shift one last time. When it finished, a tiny black tray was left in its place, revealing... ...a letter? And a pict?

"What's all this now?" Leman reached towards the tray.

Perturabo snatched it away, "Fuck off Russ! This is MY gift!"

"Oooh, is this from yer GIRLFRIEND!?"

"SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!!"

"Hey fuck you Leman!" Oh boy, here comes Magnus, "Like you could ever understand the subtlety and genius that went into that puzzle box! Let him enjoy his gift in peace!"

"LeT HiM eNjOy HiS gIfT iN pEaCe!" Leman crooned. "Shut her trap and go back teh yer boyfriend, yeh big red canary."

Magnus puffed up in outrage and looked about ready to turn Leman inside out. When Perturabo noticed Sanguinius inbound, no doubt to dissolve the impending battle, he took his chance to dip out. And by "dip out" I mean grab the tray and its contents, and duck under the table. It would hide him for all of a second, but that would be as long as it would take him to read the letter.

Or it would have, if Leman hadn't, SOMEHOW, been able to reach the tray before him. He snatched up the letter, practically from between Perturabo's fingers, and with utter horror the Lord of Iron watched as his brother brandished the page, cleared his throat, and began to read:

"Perturabo..."

"FUCK YOU LEMAN THAT'S NOT YOURS!!" Magnus howled. Perturabo roared in fury. Both brothers made a mad lunge at the Wolf Lord but he dodged, shit-eating grin on his face as he continued reading.

"...Perturabo,

I'm sorry, but I...."

"....failed you?"

At the mention of the word "failed", Perturabo's onslaught faltered, as did Magnus's. Leman's grin died on his lips as he read the next line, his eyes widening for a moment before they squeezed shut. He then passed the letter back to Perturabo, mumbled a barely audible apology, turned, and without a word walked off.

"That's not what I... ...uh... ...expected?" Magnus muttered. "He looked like a kicked pup. What did that letter..."

Perturabo clutched the paper looking the most feral Magnus had ever seen him.

"...you know what, never mind. That letter's meant for you anyway." He added quickly. "I'll be in the library if you need me, brother."

And just like that, Perturabo was alone. Well, mostly; the Emperor was still there, but he was oddly quiet. Sanguinius was watching him too, but from a discreet distance.

The Lord of Iron backed up into the corner of the room, still riled up but looking a little less crazy. Once he was satisfied that NOBODY ELSE would attempt to confiscate his stuff, he finally began to read what Nehetari wrote for him.

"Perturabo,

I am sorry, but I failed you. You said you wanted your brothers' appreciation for a Sanguinala gift, but of all the ones I interviewed asking for an appreciative memory they have of you, the only ones who gave me a response were your brothers Magnus and Sanguinius. So instead I instigated a situation to make one (please reference the included image). If your brother's expressions are to be believed, then I believe they all enjoyed attacking your snow bunker. I certainly enjoyed helping you defend it.

May you have a somber and pleasant celebration,

The Mehlrose,

Nehetari of the Szarekhan Dynasty.

Heir to the Silent Throne."

...Perturabo couldn't believe it.

He's asked for that as a JOKE. He hadn't actually been serious. When she's approached him, asking what he wanted as a "Sanguinala gift," he'd been in the middle of a complicated programming script and had said that just to get the point across that he didn't want to be bothered.

Slowly, and with a shaking hand, he lifted the pict from the tray and turned it over.

And she was right. This shot must have been taken by one of her tunneling scarabs. Or maybe one of her guard as they were circling the perimeter, hurling snow and distracting Russ. But however it was taken, somehow it was able to get a perfect shot of every primarch, including himself and Nehetari, hurling fucking snow or getting completely dunked on, but every single one of them had varying degrees of stupid fucking grin on their faces. Even Corvus was smiling!

It struck him: had that been her plan all along?

Minutes passed, and finally the Emperor himself spoke up. "My son, you're shaking like a Dark Elder nightclub on a Tuesday."

Perturabo didn't hear him. It took everything he had just to hold the pict in his trembling hands.

Why? Why. Why would she bother. How did she... ...why, why, why WHY? HOW!? When did she even have the TIME to plan this out!? There was no way. And not for him. Why? Why for him? And ALL OF THEM. How could she have known they would ALL come?

"Brother, are you ok?"

Perturabo snapped out of the loop to see the Angel standing beside him with a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't realized just how loudly his two hearts had been thundering, how BADLY his whole body had been shaking, until he felt that steadying touch. Instinctively he tried to regain control over his mind and body, and stowed the pict away in his belt.

Sanguinius asked no questions; he simply nodded.

"I'm going to find her..." Perturabo's voice sounded like sandpaper. He could feel the tears rolling down his neck, but he ignored them. "...I don't care if she FUCKING KILLS me; I am going to find her. She has no right.... ...she had no right to... ...to..."

"...go ahead brother." Sanguinius's smile was warm with understanding.

Salvaging what little dignity he felt he had left, Perturabo straightened up, turned on his heel, and walked shakily out of the throne room. He disappeared into the darkness, leaving his father and his brothers to stare after him in wonder.

(Sorry this is such a long post, but I started writing it and just went to town. I wanted to SHOW, rather than just tell, the kinds of things Nehetari does for the individuals that are important to her)

@gracia-regina @ask-a-scheming-sorcerer @luwupercal