#had brainrot so i wrote this

[starry-bi-sky]

tick tock

Highkey dedicating this to @watercolour-carnations bc they sent me an ask about my 'danny is thomas wayne' au and singlehandedly revitalized my brainrot for it. Apparently the quickest way to a starry's heart is through their ask box

Now posted on ao3 under the name 'dniwer eht kcolc'!

In hindsight, hosting a science exhibit was probably not the best idea that Bruce has ever. This wasn't even one of Bruce's galas and, yet he was still attending because it gave him the opportunity to scope out any potential rogues (or henchmen).

Damian was by his side, and Tim was on the other side of the room, inspecting some of the other inventions under the prospect of gaining new hires for R&D at WE. Something that was not entirely false. Bruce could always use new, bright minds working to make Gotham a better place.

He was, particularly, eyeing up one moderately-sized invention that a woman with cutting blue eyes and stark white hair had covered with a white sheet. An interesting choice when everyone else had already revealed their own inventions. Drifting closer with Damian, he smiles charmingly at the scientist when they lock eyes.

"And what is this interesting contraption?" He asks, looking over the sheet as if it was the invention itself and not what was underneath.

The woman curled purple-painted fingers around the sheet, yanking it down to reveal a machine that looks like a mix of a jukebox and a grandfather clock. A long wire was attached to it, and a strange, blinking, circlet-like device connected on the other end.

Bruce's brows rose considerably, and he could sense Damian's eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"This is my Holographic Memory Machine -- the name is still a work in progress -- it's a memory machine meant to allow anyone to relive their memories right in front of them, even the ones they don't remember." The woman says with a smile, her name card reads 'Dr. Casey W. Kairos'. He's never heard of her before. An out-of-townie, perhaps?

"Interesting." Bruce's hands fold behind his back and he looks down at his disinterested son, and then back up to Dr. Kairos. It sounded harmless, but even a pencil could be harmless until enough force was put into it. "How does that work?"

Dr. Kairos walks over and holds up the strange circlet device, "The user wears this headband. It scans their brainwaves and then plays a memory of their choice right in front of them like a hologram, including any voices that came with it." She explains, showing it off to Bruce and Damian. "Would either of you like to try it? The HMM has been tested and it is completely safe."

Damian scoffs and turns to him, "This is a waste of time, father," He says, "let's move on."

"Oh, don't be like that, Dames." Bruce smiles genially, placing a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezing it. It reminds him of when his father used to do the exact same thing, and he turns to Dr. Kairos. "I can try it, Doctor."

Kairos smiles widely, looking incredibly pleased. "Come stand here then, Mr. Wayne. I can get the HMM up and working." She gestures to a spot on the floor within the circlet's range, and Bruce goes and does as told.

"Standing around and looking pretty is my specialty, Doctor Kairos." He jokes as she gets the device situated on his head. It sits on his forehead snugly, and tucks behind his ears. Kairos snorts and turns to get the machine activated.

"Father." Damian says, indignant and scowling. His arms crossed over his chest petulantly. Bruce chuckles at him.

"The Doctor said it was perfectly safe, Damian." He admonishes lightly, wagging a finger at him. "I trust the good lady to know what she's doing." Not really, but he'd rather test it out on himself if it was unsafe.

Thirty seconds passed with Dr. Kairos working on flicking on the HMM, and when it came alive it came with a low hum and a distinct, ticking like noise. "Ah, there we go." She hums, stepping away. "It's up and working, Mister Wayne. Just think of a memory and let the HMM do the rest."

"Thank you, Doctor." Bruce nods at her, and then tries to think of what to let the machine show. Nothing that would give away his identity as Batman, of course not. Nothing incriminating.

He looks to Damian, who still looked very unhappy with him. Perhaps a memory of one of his boys in the manor? Or a Brucie Wayne moment that everyone's seen. His brows furrow in thought. One of his speeches?

...No. No, he has an idea.

Immediately, the HMM begins to hum louder, the ticking drowned out by the sound of its fans kicking in. It starts drawing the attention of the other ongoers, and Damian steps to Bruce's side as a crowd begins to form.

"What is that thing?"

"What's it doing?"

"Is it safe?"

Hushed whispers scatter around them as more and more people abandon the other stalls in favor of seeing whatever spectacle was happening. Tim appears as well, pushing his way through the crowd and situating himself by Damian and Bruce.

"What's going on?" He whispers with a frown, looking between Bruce and Damian.

Damian hmphs, "Father is trying out this woman's 'Memory Machine'."

Just when Bruce is starting to think the machine doesn't work, he hears a sound that silences the spectators. A piano note. A singular note, followed by another, and another. Right before Bruce's eyes, the air shimmers, and a projection of his father sitting at the grand piano appears before him.

His breath hitches in his throat. He remembers this. He remembers this piece. It was father's favorite.

Damian and Tim are stiff at his side, and Bruce hears the crowd gasp.

There, sitting on the floor at the bench, is Bruce himself at six years old. He's resting his arms on it, and leaning his head on his arms with a look of pure adoration -- did he really look like that? -- aimed at his father.

There's no talking between them, a content silence as Thomas Wayne fills the air with his piano playing. That is-- until he stops midway through the piece, fingers stopping the keys with a abrupt jerk.

Thomas laughs, quiet and full of love, and little Bruce picks his head up with an affronted frown. "Why'd you stop? I like listening to you play."

"I know you do." Thomas says, his voice is as soothing as Bruce remembers it to be. The memory twists to look at little Bruce with a blinding smile, as if he was looking at his whole world. It's the first time in decades that Bruce has seen his father smiling like-- like that. His eyes involuntarily sting.

"But how can you hear so well when you're all the way down there?" Thomas shifts, and pats an open space on the bench. "Come sit up here, Boo. I can teach you to play."

(Thomas Wayne was always fond of pet names, he had plenty of them for Bruce, and he used them at every opportunity.)

Little Bruce perks up, "Really?" He grins, and then clambers into the bench. His father's arms wrap around him.

The voices fade as the memory slowly begins to collapse, and Bruce feels a spike of panic in his heart before the memory is replaced by another one.

He's younger, probably four years old, being sprayed down by a hose by his father. Little Bruce is squealing with laughter, trying to swat the water away like a fly, and his clothes are drenched.

Thomas is laughing as well, wearing a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looks like he just came home from a business meeting. Bruce always thought he was old when he was little. But at four years old, Thomas Wayne is only a little over twenty. Barely an adult. He is twenty-four when he dies. He was so young.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Little Bruce squeals, trying to run out of the line of fire, but Thomas Wayne has a sharp eye, and the hose in his hands follow Bruce no matter where he goes.

Until finally Thomas drops the hose and runs towards Bruce, who is trying to recover from being sprayed down with ice cold water. Thomas reaches him before he has time to move, and scoops him up in his arms.

He is laughing loudly and boisterously, spinning them both around as Bruce clings to him for dear life, laughing with him. The memory fades away, and Bruce feels like there are hands around his throat trying to choke him.

A new one shows up, one he doesn't remember at all. His father is younger than before, a teenager, and he's holding a tiny bundle in his arms. He looks like he's on the verge of tears, hunched over it like a shield.

Someone, a girl with gothic attire, peers over his shoulder. "Gosh, Tom, a baby? That's a lot of responsibility." She says, dark-lipstick lips painted downwards in a frown. "And right after you've disowned your parents too?"

Another boy looks around Thomas with a similar frown and an uncertain look, "Yeah man, I'm with Sam on this one -- for once. You don't even have anywhere to live."

Thomas doesn't look like he's even paying attention, utterly smitten with the baby -- its himself, Bruce realizes -- he's cradling. "Look at him though, guys," he breathes, "he's so tiny. Have you seen his little watercolor eyes?"

(Watercolor eyes. Bruce had long since forgotten about that nickname his father gave him. hearing him say it is like a punch to his stomach.)

"You named him Bruce?"

Bruce huffs to himself, an involuntary smile twitching at his mouth as the memory dips again and cycles through another memory he recognizes.

The memories it shows are sporadic, with no chronological order to them other than each and every one is a happy one.

Bruce playing piano with his father.

Bruce stargazing with his father.

Bruce being carried on his father's shoulders.

Bruce getting ready for a gala with his father.

Bruce in the kitchen helping his dad make breakfast (there's pancake flour smeared on his cheek).

Bruce making a snowman with his father.

An apology between Bruce and his father in the form of a piano duet.

There are even a few memories he doesn't remember. Some of them are when he's old enough to, but many are when he's a baby. Some are before his father was adopted by the Waynes, when the only thing on their backs was a raggedy backpack and an oversized sweatshirt, and Bruce's baby blanket. And some are after, where he's sitting in an antique rocking chair bottle feeding Bruce with a look of sheer adoration on his face.

That look never seems to go away, ever, in any of the memories.

Finally, the HMM settles on a final memory, one that makes Bruce's blood run cold and snaps him out of his nostalgic revelry. His father is getting ready in his room, and Bruce comes barreling in with his own suit-and-tie.

"Dad! Dad! Dad!" He chants, running to Thomas, who whirls around and picks him up seamlessly. They spin twice before Thomas settles in front of the mirror, Bruce on his hip as he adjusts his tie with one hand.

"Yes, boo?" Thomas grins, wide-splitting with his shock-blue eyes looking at Bruce in the reflection. He and Bruce have the same eyes. It's shocking how much they look like each other, now that Bruce was older.

Little Bruce makes a dramatic face, a look that only lasts a few seconds before he remembers his excitement. He wiggles in Thomas' arms, "You gotta hurry up! Or we'll be late to the movie!"

Bruce's fingers dig into his palm, and he can vaguely feel his sons' looking at him. There's a feeling of impending doom square in the center of his lungs, and he forces himself to look on.

Thomas laughs, and nuzzles Bruce's cheek. "The movie isn't going anywhere, chum, I promise." He says, before setting him down. Little Bruce pouts, his lower lip sticking out. "I know how much you've been looking forward to this."

"Can you help me with my tie then?" Bruce asks, and looks at his own, sloppily done tie around his neck. "I can never get it right."

And, of course, Thomas Wayne kneels down to redo it. He always did everything Bruce asked or wanted. He measures it, loops it, and then knots the tie perfectly.

"There." He says, and smoothes out Bruce's little jacket, smiling in adoration. "Now go play, I'll call you when it's time to go."

And Bruce does just that, running out of the room with a yell of, "You better promise!"

"I promise!" Thomas yells back, laughing at his son as he turns back to the mirror.

The memory shimmers, and changes to as they're leaving. And then and there does Bruce call it quits. His eyes are glistening, his tears nearly blinding him with the swelling, overwhelming grief in his heart. He looks away, and tries to find Doctor Kairos.

(He doesn't see her switch something on the side of the machine. There is no noticeable difference in the machine, but on the inside a time rune starts to glow.)

"I think I'm done here, Doctor." He says once he can find his voice without it shaking. He can't hide the full crack and tremble laying beneath it, but at least he doesn't cry. He's almost forgotten that he had a silent audience.

Doctor Kairos nods and steps forward, reaching for the headband. "The memories should cut off once I take this off, Mister Wayne." She says, and fiddles with it for a moment. Behind her, the memory of himself and his father are walking outside. "I hope that wasn't too much for you?"

(The ticking of the machine grows louder, and the memory glitches.)

"No, no." Bruce assures with a smile that wasn't all Brucie Wayne yet. He looks down when he feels Damian's hand curl around his, and his son leans into his side. His smile softens, and he presses Damian closer. His other arm finds itself over Tim's shoulders as well, pressing him to his side.

"It was fine. Actually, it was an honor to be the first to try out your memory machine. I'm sure it will help many people." He tells her. She smiles slyly, and slides the headband off his head.

"That's what I'm hoping for, Mister Wayne." Doctor Kairos places the headband onto the table. The memory hasn't disappeared, Bruce notes with a furrow of his brows. And the audio has muffled slightly.

"I thought you said that the memory would cut off when the headband was off?" He asks. Kairos looks at him, and then behind her at the memory. She frowns.

"It should have--"

Little Bruce suddenly frowns, and looks away from Thomas. "Do you hear that?"

Bruce frowns. "I don't remember this." That wasn't in his memory. They just went straight to Monarch Theater without any issue.

Thomas looks down at his son, "What noise?" He asks, squeezing Bruce's hand. His head cranes, as if trying to hear whatever noise Bruce was hearing.

"That ticking sound." Bruce's frown deepens, "It sounds like your clock, dad."

Thomas' immediately frowns, looking so strikingly like Bruce that he marvels for a moment. He looks around as well. "...You're right. I hear it too." He steps a little closer to Bruce, his hand tightening around his.

A sense of unease fills Bruce's lungs. "What's going on?" He asks, taking a step away from the memory. This was different. This isn't his memory.

"I'm not sure." Doctor Kairos says, and her unsurety sounds so practiced and calm that Bruce's suspicion levels to her immediately. His boys look at her too with the same unease. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

She strides around the memory to the side of the machine just as a gold symbol appears on the ground. It looks like a giant roman clock, and a loud, clunky ticking fills the room.

The memories see it too, and Bruce's heart drops to his feet as he and the rest of the crowd back away from it. "Dad, what is that?!" Little Bruce exclaims, a look of fear morphing across his face as he suddenly clings to his dad's leg.

Thomas looks pale, looking at his feet and gripping little Bruce to him protectively. "I don't-- I don't know, Bruce."

(A memory that Bruce doesn’t have is his father arguing with a man named Clockwork. He does not see the man named Clockwork all but beg Thomas not to go out tonight.)

("Does something happen to Bruce?" His father asks the ghost.)

("No," the man says, "but--")

("But nothing, Clockwork." Thomas, once Danny, says firmly. "My son has been looking forward to this all week. I'm not going to crush his hopes by changing my mind last minute.")

("Thomas, please.")

("Look, if something happens tonight, I will handle it, okay?" Thomas assures him, a hand atop Clockwork's shoulder with a small smile. "I promise.")

(And then he leaves, Clockwork defeated in his wake.)

(Clockwork has seen this boy grow up from the shadows, and now he can do nothing to stop his fate like he once did before.)

The strange, clock-like circle, something intrinsically magic, begins to glow. The minute and hour hands tick faster and faster. Little Bruce holds onto his father like a lifeline, and Thomas Wayne crouches down to hold his son tighter, protectively.

Bruce Wayne turns away just as the light grows blinding, tucking Tim and Damian into his chest like a human shield. There is yelling and screams as the crowd tries to stampede away from it.

Bruce has no idea what this light will do, but he'd rather die than let his sons get hurt.

The light burns his eyelids even when he isn't facing it. And when it dies without even a burn across his back, Bruce slowly unfurls. His hands stay on his sons' shoulders, keeping them close to him, and he peers over his shoulder.

There on his knees, is Thomas Wayne, curled protectively around eight year old Bruce Wayne, much like Bruce had been. Bruce holds his breath, and his sons slowly unfurl themselves as well and peer around him.

Thomas Wayne is frozen in place for one second, two seconds, three. And then he begins to move. First, the tension drains out of his shoulders, and his head jerks, as if surprised that nothing has happened.

He looks up, his eyes open, and he and Bruce make eye contact. Bruce cannot breathe, and he cannot believe the sight before him. It's just the memory machine breaking. (Doctor C.W Kairos is nowhere to be found.)

And then recognition flickers in his father's face as his panting slows and quiets. His head tilts to the side like a fawn's, a familiar wrinkle appearing before his brows.

"Bruce?"

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp crossover #danny fenton is thomas wayne au #dftw au #oh my gfod this is so long #watercolour-carnations how does it feel to have singlehandedly revitalized my brainrot over this au #the fastest way to starry's heart is through their askbox #anyways i was thinking about this the whole time #the memory with clockwork was SUPPOSED to be seen by bruce honestly! #but i couldnt write it in properly #imo at least #io had to check the wordcount on this and this is THREE THOUSAND WORDS #OOPS I ACCIDENTALLY WROTE A 3k WORD ONESHOT #YOU KNOW. AS YOU DO

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

#hellsing #alucard #kouta hirano #translation was found in a comment by u/lazyfoxheart on r/Kurrent #fun fact this is the highest quality version of this image that exists online #i know because i've been looking forever for a version that's clear enough to actually read what hirano wrote under '1443' #but there weren't any so i had to take matters into my own hands #the real image on the back of the guidebook is only 2 inches tall so i had to take this with my smartphone and will my hands not to shake #anyway i'm pretty sure it's supposed to say Eğrigöz (the location vlad was imprisoned) so yeah. thank you hirano very cool #if i might rant for a sec it took me an embarrassingly long time to figure that out because i didn't have the guidebook at first #and in the images i could find online that part was just a blur that looked suspiciously like a person's signature and i was like. who tf #i was thinking matthias corvinus since he issued some political propaganda against vlad iirc but it didn't match his signature on wikipedia #then i thought it might be vlad II dracul's since he probably had to sign an agreement to send his sons over as hostages at some point #but that didnt seem right either so i kept skimming vlad's wiki page #and then i was like goddammit...hirano.....you just misspelled Eğrigöz didn't you.. .... #i maybe should've made a separate post dedicated to this instead of writing a novel in the tags but eh #the hellsing brainrot runs deep #also- i put it in the source link at the bottom of the post but the german inscription is copied off a real woodcut of vlad from 1491 #except instead of depicting him as an adult hirano drew him as a child which gives the inscription a very different feel imo #the one final thing that interests me about this is the fact that hirano published this calendar in 2002 #which is REALLY early in the series. like this was before volume 5 came out?? #i have no idea why he decided to do a massive spoiler drop in a random piece of japan-only merch #sandwiched between a drawing of alucard as john travolta from saturday night fever and integra as a fish no less #it makes me really curious to know what the fan response to this was back then. like did people even know who this was #maybe im just an idiot and everyone back then was like 'ah yes its alucard as a 12 year old. how very informative'

[libras-idol-hours]

Fluff Alphabet - Madara Mikejima

*casually posts a year and a half later* ma help the snakes (enstars) are in the coop (my brain) again. GN reader.

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Ahh, this is a tough one. Madara would answer that he’s happy doing anything with this partner, which is true - outdoor dates, traditional dinners, local festivals and cozy nights are all wonderful ways to spend time together.  Considering both of them have such busy schedules, Madara is grateful for every opportunity to spend time together. 

Madara’s big favorite is either snuggling in the evenings while watching a movie his partner likes, or his partner wanting to show him a place he’s never seen but they love. He could listen to them talk about their interests all day.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

If his partner has a big creative streak, an exceptional passion for their art or interest, it gets the big man feeling fluttery. He loves seeing the fire in his partner’s eyes as they throw themselves into what they love. Adding onto that, determination and passion is something that moves Madara deeply, doubly so if it's done for the sake of others. He’s so weak for a kind heart. 

Madara finds these things more attractive than just looks; but if he had to choose, eyes and laughter capture his attention. He loves a unique laugh, especially if he made it happen or it’s hard-earned. He adores seeing that humor reflected in his s/o’s eyes, too.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Madara will go one of two ways, depending on what his partner needs. Do you want to be encouraged, to smile again, to laugh? He ups his antics and says something truly outrageous to distract you. He’ll keep going, saying all sorts of nonsense while hugging them tight until their cries turn to hiccupping laughs. 

But sometimes that isn’t what’s needed, and Madara is just as good as taking his partner’s hands and listening. They can squeeze his hands as tight as possible, it won’t hurt. Hell, they can hug him too tight or shout and hit, it makes no difference to him. If Madara could take all of that hurt into himself, he would. Madara takes his partner’s happiness very seriously, and is willing to be their punching bag and/or security blanket for as long as they need.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

It creeps up slowly, these thoughts of domestic living. Madara doesn’t turn away from them or feel embarrassed. He turns the pleasant thoughts over in his head, considering all the hopeful what ifs. He wonders if his partner has the same daydreams. It doesn’t have to be the “ white picket fence with kids and a dog”; that doesn’t suit him, anyway. 

He just wants a future where he and his s/o continue to be together and support each other, and he finds himself thinking of simpler, smaller things first - like, if you two moved in together, would you borrow his clothes? Wouldn’t it be nice to have your shoes next to each other at the door? 

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Madara leans dominant, but that doesn’t mean he’s domineering or forceful. Rather, he has a quiet confidence in his feelings and desires, and has no issues being the one taking the lead in dates, affection and intimacy. If his partner would rather take initiative, by all means! Madara is pleasantly surprised to be on the pampered side for once. He’ll also easily give into his partner’s desires, not wanting to deny them anything - but he will be a tease about it. 

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Yes, Madara will forgive easily, even if he wasn’t in the wrong. He doesn’t want to fight with his partner. In fact, he’s willing to tolerate and “lose” a lot of fights for their sake, but he does have a limit. 

If the fight is over something trivial, Madara will give his s/o some space first. He needs to sort out his own thoughts and words, too, then he checks in to see if they’re willing to talk. He wants to keep it calm and make sure both their feelings are heard and understood. 

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Generally, yes, Madara is deeply grateful for his partner and tells them as much! Really, not a day goes by when he isn’t praising them. However, if his partner is more subdued and closed off in their feelings, or does things to help him secretly, Madara is not as aware. He still adores them, but might quietly wonder if he ever bothers them.

(That’s until a little birdie tells him all these things his s/o did or said for him - then he rushes straight to them to heap tons of affection!!)

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Well .. …. Yes, there are secrets. His reasons for not divulging them range anywhere from it really doesn’t matter to it’s something I have to do on my own. His partner likely isn’t aware of even half of what Madara was and is involved in, and as long as it doesn’t directly affect them, he plans to keep it that way. He can be tempted to confide in them … and maybe someday, in a very roundabout way, he will. 

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

It could easily work out both ways; Madara is so used to doing things for others, he falls naturally into that “fixer” role when his partner is troubled. If they denied him that role, and tried to help him - well, that’d be one hell of a surprise. Around the right partner, Madara would be more relaxed, less stressed, more assured of himself. Those who don’t know him well wouldn’t see a difference, but those who do would pick up on his improved energy.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

First of all, Madara is fully aware of how childish his jealousy is and how quickly it can spring up. He’s good at suppressing it, especially when it’s over something foolish. Yes, his partner is popular and has lots of affectionate friends, and yes, sometimes he feels an itch of jealousy when said male friends are clinging on his s/o. It used to be worse when they weren’t dating, Madara would feel compelled to wedge himself between them with a smile and joke. 

Now that they’re dating, Madara is much more patient (usually) and understands he can’t always be the center of attention. If his s/o ever notices this jealousy in him, Madara’s a bit embarrassed … but then just cheekily asks them for attention.

After dating for a while, his partner might notice that sometimes his jealousy flares up the worst around strangers or business acquaintances. Madara will outright place himself right behind or beside his partner, giving a menacing aura and faux-cheery words. His partner isn’t totally sure why their boyfriend dislikes certain men so strongly, but at least they feel protected.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He certainly is, even without lots of experience before his partner … but now he has them to experiment on practice with! The jerk will figure out veeeery quickly what his partner likes best, how they react to this or that, which spots make them sigh and which makes them startle. Madara is relentless in his offensive kiss attacks, especially if he was already feeling snuggly. No escape! 

His first kiss with his partner was something he'd been wanting to do for a while. That's not to say he planned it, but Madara had certainly thought about it, so when it happened he eagerly cupped their face in his hand and led a slow, sweet kiss. He was actually being pretty serious, too ... up until he teases them for their cute expression.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Madara would wait, even if he was sure his crush liked him back. He wants to tease and goad them until they’re red-faced and sputtering. He can be patient and stubborn about this! He wants to hear them say it! 

There are two exceptions, though - if his crush is someone who is far too shy and nervous, Madara will take the initiative once he’s sure of their feelings.

The second exception is the fact he often finds himself in dangerous situations - before or even after, Madara might seek you out or call you and just confess right there. It sounds desperate, more of a plea for your affection than a confession of his own. Again, he wants to hear the confirmation.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Yes he would, but not because he’s a traditionalist or anything. Madara is perfectly fine with a non-typical wedding or no ceremony at all, he’s just beyond happy and grateful that his partner is in it for the long haul. This is especially true for idols, who have to be so careful about their personal lives. It feels like his partner is “choosing” him over that, which makes him feel very special. 

And yes, the wedding clothes and ceremony and party are all wonderful things, but he’d be just as happy with a dramatic elopement or private ceremony.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Where to begin? He has dozens of names ready, ranging from sickeningly sweet pet names to endless variations on his partner’s name … oh, and he probably was calling them by half of these before the dating started. He doesn’t mind receiving sappy nicknames, and even encourages it. Something like Mā-chan or Mikemin; so overly cutesy, but it delights him anyway.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

To people who don’t know Madara well, it seems like he’s acting his usual self around you. Those closer or more savvy will pick up how he hovers just slightly closer, how he’s more eager to give hugs and praise, how he seems to soak up his crush’s attention and watches very closely if someone else is taking up all their attention. He and his crush will already seem like a couple, and he’s obviously delighted by anyone making that mistake.

For them, he gives a lot of himself. His time, his advice, his affection, his trust. Madara will do it instinctively, not thinking about himself, wanting to focus on his (future) s/o singularly. Maybe there’s a little possessiveness in there, too … A little hope that you’ll depend on him more than others.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Yes. If it wasn’t obvious by how he dotes on them and showers them in affection and praise, Madara loves talking about his partner. He’ll bring them up anytime something reminds him of them, which is a lot. Even before he was dating his s/o, he was very clear about his affections.

There’s could be a problem with PDA, though. Madara would love nothing more than to constantly hold and touch and cling to his partner, but as idols, they need to maintain a certain distance in public. In the private offices of ES - where everyone knows about it anyway - Madara and his partner can be more open (they’re still told to get a room, lol). Madara really resents having to hold himself back for the sake of an “image”, doubly so if it also troubles his partner. That just means he’s extra affectionate and clingy once they’re in private again.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Madara has lots of skills, and many translate well to helping his partner out. First there's his experience in the idol business and less savory things but let's not worry about that, he's excellent at reading their moods, and he's calm and composed under pressure. His language skills are great during travel, he's big and strong and protective ... Okay, There are many benefits to dating Madara Mikejima. How can their partner pick one?

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Mama has the range! He can be anywhere from silly to painfully sentimental to very sensual. It’s half what he’s feeling in the moment, half what flusters his partner best! That’s the best part! But no matter what, he makes his affection and love for his partner clear. It’s obvious in his words, physical affection and things he does for them - not to mention the little dates and time spent together. Madara might not call himself a romantic, but his partner would certainly think it. 

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Oh yes, Madara is willing to go quite far to assist his adorable, beloved partner; especially if they have a great dream in life. It can be simple, considerate support - making them meals, hearing their ideas out, giving feedback - this is especially true if his partner is involved in the idol business, as that's his wheelhouse. Mama will always tell them how much he believes in them and supports them ... and, well, if there's some kind of person obstacle that upsets them or seriously hinders them and he could take care of it ... Madara probably will? He'll seriously consider it, at least.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Sort of both. Madara has an adventurous and daring spirit, so he meshes well with a partner whose similar and will tease and challenge him. But if his partner is more easygoing and predictable, he can adapt well to that … still expect the teasing, though, and he might suggest more than a few things to them. Madara is always considerate of their comfort level, though.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Madara's already excellent at reading others, not to mention information he can dig up. Presumably, he knew his partner well before dating - he kind of has to before he's willing to open himself up to a relationship. Madara was always good at reading their intentions and moods, and now that they're dating, he's even better. One might say he's a little too perceptive ...

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Very important; and perhaps if his s/o knew him very well before they dated, they'd understand this well. Madara has lost much in his life and those who have become this close to him are something precious. He places a great deal of worth on his partner; probably more than what's healthy, honestly. The longer he and his partner are together, the more this worth grows and solidifies in his mind.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He will melt if his partner plays with his hair, or wants to brush and style it. Madara didn't think it was something he liked until they began running their fingers through his hair, then they wanted to mess with it ... and he gladly lets them. His messy hair was originally because he was unsure how to style it (and didn't always have the energy), but it became something of a trademark, so he didn't worry. Madara's hair is nice and soft, and when his partner starts playing with it, he immediately stops whatever he was doing to enjoy the attention.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I mean, we know who we’re talking about, right?

There is no escape from Mama’s hugs to begin with, but his partner? The hugs and cuddles and pick-ups and princess carries and kisses are doubly inescapable!! You already knew he was going to be an affectionate guy going into this relationship, but wow it's up to eleven. Other idols (or you!) have scolded Madara for being so free with his affection in public, or even amongst friends - he just can't help himself.

... Well, he can, if his partner wasn't crazy about the PDA or the relationship was secret. Madara can control himself, you know. It just means his partner will get pounced the second they're alone. Madara likes receiving all kinds of touches in return, but especially if his partner likes to kiss or play with his hair.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Biiiiiig sighs… just so someone can ask and Madara can go on about how much he adores and misses his s/o. If they're gone for just a few days, he might up his antics just for fun. Cue Kohaku texting them to hurry up and come home already. 

On a more serious note, for long trips Madara is great with communication. He’s familiar with time zone differences, so he will wake up at 3am just to give his s/o a call (and!) encouraging text when they're just finishing work or waking up. It’s rough if his partner is an idol too and also has a schedule full of touring and events; but he understands it can’t be helped and does his best to stay in contact so they don’t feel so lonely. He’s delighted by their own enthusiastic texts and voice notes, and saves them for a time when he’s feeling down.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of? Absolutely. If someone’s captured Madara’s heart, he’ll go to the ends of the earth for them. He’s willing to cross many, many lines for their sake … so let’s uh, hope it doesn’t come to that. When it comes to simpler, easier things than murder/extortion/manipulation, he's wonderful at making his partner feel loved, thinking up fun things for them to do, appreciating and adoring them, and so on. They'll surely notice the things he does for their sake, but trying to tell him to hold back or relax is a bit of a losing battle. Mama loves his s/o too much to not give them his all !

#finally i wrote something after like almost a month of frustration LOL #ty idol boys very cool #madara mikejima x reader #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #i havent finished all his stories so mayhaps later i will edit this #but i had to get the brainrot OUT

[jamieedlund]

Thesis wip 📝and a bunch of September doodle dump. I've been very sick lately so my thesis work got delayed quite a lot 😢 Happy late mid-autumn! 🍂🎃🧡

#I wrote in the images so click on it if you wanna read more #there's the alt button #my art #tdp #aaravos #callum #the dragon prince #doodle #tdp callum #tdp aaravos #soren #idk if i should tag him #he only showed up in 1 brainrot lol #in the thesis wip #because my line art is very indecisive #i accidentally made it looked like aaravos is breathing #i thought it was cool #um yea that's all #I'm slowly recovering from being sick #hope you all had a nice september

[dirtytransmasc]

Modern Aocorro high school au: what if Spider was a harpist in his high school orchestra and Ao'nung was down bad about it.

Spider was already your classic high school heart throb. He was popular, buff, handsome, a little rough around the edges, yet still a total sweetheart.

For Eywa's sake, he carpooled his siblings to school or rode his skateboard to school, volunteered around town 24/7, used reusable straws, he'd hand his pocket change to anyone in need, and was known for getting into fights with bullies in the parking lot.

Not to mention that he had the prettiest golden curls and brown eyes anyone had ever seen (at least in Ao'nung's opinion).

So to say Ao'nung was crushing, hard, was probably the understatement of the century, and could you even blame him? The guy was perfect, an angel, and it was driving him insane.

He'd catch himself staring during gym practice, marveling at his muscles, cheeks flushing, or in the locker room when he took his shirt off to change, his heart pounding away in his chest.

he thought he couldn't be even more down bad for that boy than he already was, his confident personality rendered null and void when he was around, his tongue caught in the back of his throat, unable to do so much as squeak at him… until the day he caught him in the orchestra room, practicing.

Now, he had heard Spider was in orchestra and had even seen him rolling around some large black case around the school before, but he'd never actually caught what he played.

But walking past that half-opened door was how he found out the love of his life wasn't only a sweet handsome hunk of a guy, but he played the harp, the instrument of an angel.

The sheer audacity of this boy was getting out of hand, he swore to Eywa, he was gonna kill him one of these days with his impossibly hot antics.

He stands and watches as Spider presses up against his harp, eyes focused on his sheet music, hair tied up in a messy bun but a single golden curl hangs he keeps blowing out of his face, and his fingers strum along the strings, working the muscles throughout his hands and arms.

The sound of gentle music flowed from the gap in the door, and it sounded just as pretty as Spider looked, soft and sweet, but still robust, still full of base and bravado. It was so fitting.

Watching Spider's face quirk with focus and frustration and pride as he worked through the song made the other's heart swoon, he swore it must be palpating or maybe skipping beats. He just knows it wasn't beating right, especially as he rubs his hand over his chest and feels how heavy it beats against his ribs.

And thats when Spider just so happens to turn to see who was gawking at him from the hallway, and instead of telling him to stop staring or throwing a pissed-off glance like Ao'nung is sure most other's would do if they caught someone staring like he had been, Spider just smiled.

"Like what you hear?" he quipped, leaning forward to turn the page of his music binder.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, you're... amazing," he choked out an answer, coughing into his fist to try and cover up the stammer in his voice and the blush on his cheeks.

"You flatter me," he replied, sitting back and looking Ao'nung right in the eye before he looked away with an even brighter smile, and it was like his skin was set on fire by just that single glance. "Are you gonna come in or are you gonna keep standing out their like some weirdo?"

"Oh, I-I wouldn't want to bother, I was j-just passing by,"

"It's free period, it's why I'm in here all by my lonesome," he puts on a fake pout and bats his lashes in his direction for show, "keep my company yeah? I'm sure you've got nothing to do if you've already spent so much time staring."

He moved his bag off the chair next to him before patting it.

"Sit," his tone was warm and inviting and his eyes were soft and almost pleading, so he did, with a deep breath, he sat next to the other boy.

He managed to be even prettier up close, and Ao'nung had to tear his eyes away so he didn't make a fool of himself. He decided to turn his attention to the harp. It was beautiful, made of a soft, warm-toned wood, intricately carved and painted with the image of flowers he couldn't name off the top of his head.

"She's a beauty isn't she?" Spider asked

he only nodded at first, before feeling the urge to touch, his hand moving before he could think better of it, but he managed to stop himself before he made contact with he wood.

"Can I?" he asked, quite pitifully, finally making his own eye contact with the blonde. Eywa save him, he was too pretty, it was unfair. He felt butterflies tickling his stomach and his head getting fuzzy. Why didn't he run when he had the chance?

"Go ahead," he answered with a huff of laughter.

He tried to steady himself as he stroked a hand down the curved wood that he saw resting against Spider's chest earlier when he was playing, feeling the warmth from the other boy's skin still clinging to the wood.

His fingers sought out the strings Spider's rested on moments ago, the metal threading bit into his flesh ever so slightly when he ran his fingers down them.

"I catch you staring all the time y'know, you're not very good at hiding it."

Ao'nung feels his heart drop through the floor and into the stone-cold basement beneath them. Fuck. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad, Spider must think he's a freak-

"It's cute."

"What?" he didn't mean to ask that out loud, but when he did, he said it far too loud.

Spider just laughs at him, gently and without malice, his eyes crinkling into almost nothing, his cheeks going a little red, his nose scrunching a little. Ao'nung feels his heart swell.

"Oh, it's never subtle, especially since you turn bright red, and the second you realize I'm looking back, you turn tail and run away like you have the devil on your heels," he pauses to wipe the tears from his eyes, "It's just cute, adorable even. I kinda like having a not so secret admirer."

"You don't think I'm some total freak?"

"Nah dude.... who's to say I'm not staring back?" he said nonchalantly.

Ao'nung was sure his brain was melting, cause he just found out his crush might like him back? Potentially. And that was just simply mind-boggling, cause, he wasn't gonna sell himself short, but he never thought he could be on Spider's radar.

They hung out with different people, and he used to be an ass to his siblings before he transferred to be here, and sure he apologized and made up with them, he always seemed to hold a bit of a grudge.

"You are?" he had to ask.

"Mmmmmm, maybe a little," he replied with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. "I will admit, at first it was because I was trying to make sure you weren't being an ass, but, things might be changing."

Ao'nung nodded to himself, clearing his throat, trying to decipher what that could even mean. Was Spider saying he was starting to like him too? did he have a shot with him?

"Listen, the bells about to ring, so why don't I give you this," he pulled a pen from the spine of his binder, tearing the corner off of one of his sheet music, which felt oddly intimate, and wrote something down on it, before handing it to him.

It was his number. Spider just gave him his number.

"Text me? we can start gettign to actually know each other, and maybe you could start joining me in here during free period, I could give you some lessons on the harp if you'd like?" now Spider sounded a little sheepish.

Which somehow made Ao'nung feel a bit more confident, so for the first time in seemingly forever, he answered Spider with some level of confidence.

"Yeah, I'd like that, I'd like that a lot."

"Good, good, I'd like that too."

They were both smiling now. The bell rang. They both hesitated to break eye contact.

"I'll text you, promise." Eywa, he was making promises. Already. He really was a hopeless sap. But it felt right when Spider huffed a laugh at it, a hand coming up to cover his smile a little. He was flattered.

"You better, stalker," Spider laughed, finally starting to pack up his stuff.

"Rude," he faked a gasped, lingering in the door, knowing he had to get to class, and he needed to let Spider pack up so he wouldn't be late himself, but wanting to let the moment last just a little longer.

"I think staring is rude, but I think I'll give you a pass, so long as you stop running away when I catch you, deal?"

"Deal."

"And you have to meet me here tomorrow."

"I will, it's a date," the words slipped out of his mouth without thinking about how it could be interpreted, "oh, not like-"

"It's a date" Spider repeated.

Ao'nung found he could only nod. It's a date. Even if it wasn't like that, it was still nice to think about. a date with an angel.

"Now go, before you're late, wouldn't want you to get in any trouble." Spider crossed his arms and jutted out his hip like he was some disappointed mom or something.

"Right, bye Spider."

He waved goodbye. It was corny and childish, but he waved. Spider waved back. He had his number clutched tightly in his other palm. Spider had his phone clutched in his hands as if he couldn't wait for the message to come any longer.

"Bye Stalker."

He has a feeling he's gonna have to get used to that nickname, but as he rounds the corner, his chest still feeling warm and full of butterflies, he doesn't think he minds all that much.

#this was so random #but I loved the harp back when I was in highschool orchestra and fought to play it myself but failed to get the funding for it #(harps are so expensive oh my god) #and I really think it's an instrument so fitting for Spider so I projected it onto him #and I have aocorro brainrot at the moment. so I wrote this. #when Spider called Ao' dude. he really meant “future boyfriend” #writing romance is not my strong suite so I don't know how good this is #and Ao'nung is surprisingly hard to write #so idk how I feel about this #ending this felt impossible #it wouldn't just come to an end #even when there was nothing else to write #Spider was making a move. this kid had been staring at him for weeks and acting a damn fool. he was putting an end to it #and how to pop that conversation on a guy other than to wait till his guard was down and he was moments away from a heart attack #they're just silly #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #spider socorro #miles spider socorro #miles socorro #ao'nung #aonung #aocorro #tigerseal #seamonkey

[jemmo]

ive had this ramble bubbling under the surface since watching the first 2 eps of t8s, but talking to @heesulovebot and @bengiyo ‘s posts have finally managed to organise my thoughts, about why this feels so queer and un-bl, and i think it’s because, even though unspoken, the characters recognise this as queer too. i can think of so many countless bl’s where things don’t start out gay, be it enemies to lovers or friends to lovers or characters not knowing what their feelings are or ignoring them or rejecting them, no matter what it is, it’s like the gayness is slowly eeked out. but this show, in the simplest way, makes it gay from the start, by showing us the beginnings of a relationship, a meeting and a first introduction and a getting to know each other, that is really very basic. one of the things i hear a lot when people dismiss same sex chemistry in shows unless it’s stated, like when people are arguing for the inferred same sex relationship, is “if this was a man and a woman, would you think it’s romantic?”, and so often an answer is yes bc we’re still stuck in this mindset of seeing opposite sex interactions as inherently romantic, while same sex interactions as inherently friendly. you can take any number of jihyun’s and jaewon’s interactions, their first exchange outside the bar, exchanging names, jaewon wanting to go to the restaurant to see jihyun, jihyun joining the club to get closer to jaewon, the sharing earbuds, the buying food, the keeping him out the smoke, the list goes on of big to tiny details that if it were a man and a woman, anyone would read it as romantic, and yet no one in the show yet recognises it as that or voices it. and that’s what is so good and so queer about this story. bc queerness can often hide in plain sight, as long as the two at the center of it recognise it as what it is. they know this isn’t just friendly, and yet they can use this veil of male friendship to disguise all the blatant flirting they do. THAT. IS SO. QUEER. heck, how many times are queer relationships referred to as some take on a ‘special friendship’. its how we hide in plain sight. it’s how we can brush hands and shower together and sit together round a camp fire at night with music being sung and look fondly into each other’s eyes and yet no one else in that circle is none the wiser. its how we, as an audience, know this is queer, not bc of the label put on the show, but bc of how our characters act. whether they know how they feel or not at this point, the way they act, and how those actions portray those feelings, let’s us in. queer media is kind of like a secret language like that, a whole thing you have to know how to speak so that you can understand the intricacies of what’s being said. and untangling and decoding the meaning of the word friend is one of those things specific to the queer experience, which makes the use of it here absolute genius.

#i finally wrote a thing #I’ve been waiting for the brainrot to boil over #and tonight is the tipping point apparently #I am just so stuck on this show it’s ridiculous #like I had to write this to stop myself from watching those 2 eps for the 6th time bc I’m that insane #and I don’t think my rambles can even do justice to the wonderful way this show is crafted #and I honestly can’t even figure out how they create and communicate this vibe that’s so identifyibly queer and yet nothing is screaming at #you in the face hey this is queer #like I’m just shook #the eighth sense

[normal-thoughts-official]

That post I made earlier today got me Thinking™ about Mr Yusuf al-Kaysani and the way he uses humor, and turns out that I find that a really interesting trait of his character, so I'm giving it its own analysis

Like. Listen. Joe is funny. We know this and he knows this. It comes naturally to him and it's part of who he is. However, the more I think about the times he made deliberate jokes in the movie, the more I realize that they were almost always made in times of distress or to diffuse a tense situation

When we get the first scene of the immortal family, Joe shows that he is fun and carefree (the way that he spins Andy and makes her laugh nearly instantly), but he's also pretty laid back. He's happy to sit back and laugh as the moon when he's lost in darkness gets his ass handed to him in a bet, and generally takes a backseat in the interactions while the others do their respective clown routines. He isn't really trying to be funny, at that point; the ones making jokes are the others

The first time we see Joe have an "I am fucking hilarious" moment is when they're in the helicopter and he hits Nicky with his Fuckboy Grin™, and that is a mood diffuser if I've ever seen one. The other three are all tense, armed and getting ready for battle, and we get several slightly-uncomfortable long shots of them sitting still and getting into their Soldier Headspaces, and then it pans directly from Nicky's longsword to Joe's open mouthed grin. It makes Nicky smile, and it also gives some relief to the tension that had been building up

And sure, part of that is that it's how Joe is, he's the carefree one, but part of it also seems like a very intentional way of lightening the mood - and it works, too, both for Nicky and the audience

Then, the first joke he tells in the movie is the one about the shoes Copley planted in South Sudan, which. I hesitate to even call it a joke because it falls so flat, but that just solidifies the point that Joe is using humor on purpose to try and diffuse the tension in the group. It is clearly an attempt at a joke, he even gives a little chuckle at the end, but he's obviously hurt and it doesn't quite land. Still, he tries, because everyone is tense, and upset. And humor is the best way he has to try and pull them back from that state, if only for a moment

Then, over the rest of the movie, we- okay, to be fair they are in stressful situations the entire rest of the movie, but most of his deliberate jokes come as direct responses to Moments of Duress™ - "he thinks you're a mouse, Nicky" comes when Merrick is threatening them, "bedhead?" when they are strapped to their tables, "faster than the elevator" when the fight with Merrick is over and they're all catching up with their tiredness and tension, and so on. Similarly, his silliest moments come when they are in tense situations (the wink and other funny faces and laughing when they are in the dinner with Nile, which is obviously tense as hell for all of them). The fact that he's using humor deliberately to try and lighten the mood during hard times becomes pretty obvious when you put all of his jokes together

Which isn't unusual, plenty of people use humor as a coping mechanism. Hell, I'm from Latin America, "laughing so we don't cry" is a common saying where I live. But the thing that gets me is that Joe is not using humor as a coping mechanism, because it's not supposed to help him

He doesn't make a joke when he sees the shoes, despite the fact that they clearly get to him. He makes it when the others are rattled by the fact that they've been set up. When Nile dreams of Quỳnh, Joe is so visibly devastated, but he doesn't try to lighten the mood once. When he is in the van, chained and desperate to see if Nicky will wake up, he doesn't make a joke. When he finds out that Booker has betrayed them, which obviously hurts him, maybe more than any other of them, he doesn't make jokes (he is cutting, yes, and I'll admit that "no man left behind" "well there's always a first time" is one of the funniest lines in the movie to me, but I don't think he intends it as a joke; he means it, because he's angry, and the humorous effect of the response is cut by the "he's nothing but a traitor" at the end. But, again, Joe is just naturally witty so it comes across as funny without that being, necessarily, his intention). In the moments when Joe is in the most distress, his humor is nowhere to be found. When his family isn't there to hear/see his response, he is just as tense as the rest of them are

Which brings me to my main point - Joe isn't using humor as a coping mechanism, because he isn't using it for himself. He uses it for his family's sake. Every time he makes a deliberate joke, or is goofy, it's for an audience, it is directed at the rest of the family, it is functional. He is trying to make them feel better, not himself

And that makes sense, because after Quỳnh was gone and before Nile joined? Joe was the only one who was really light in their group. Andy and Booker were obviously doing their Depression and Self Destruction Tour at nearly all times, and Nicky is a rational person. When confronted with problems, he thinks of solutions. When Andy is mad at Copley, his response is to say "we did it right, for the right reasons" - which doesn't work, because Andy doesn't want to hear it, but it's the way Nicky thinks. He has no regrets as long as his heart is in the right place, and when in a tight situation, he's going to try and get out of it. He's not the kind of guy who lightens the mood when things get tough; he is the kind of guy who takes everything deeply seriously, and takes it upon himself to find a way out of bad situations

Which is not to say that Nicky is a closed-off cold weirdo who doesn't know how to have fun, because if the baklava bet proved anything it's that Nicky also knows how to try and make his family happy. I know we all love to roast him for being shit at bets, but let's be real for a moment here - after a millennium of knowing Andy, there's no way he doesn't know that he will never fucking win at this. When he loses, he puts his hands over his face, but we can see that he is smiling about it, and I think he covers his face to hide that fact. I'm pretty sure Nicky was genuinely trying to outsmart Andy when this started, but at this point I'm also completely sure he just keeps doing it because it makes everyone laugh when he inevitably loses

(I think Joe knows that, too, because the smile he gives Nicky when he proposes the bet is too knowing and too fond)

But Nicky's moments of lightness come when they are already at ease; once the mood darkens, Nicky immerses himself in the seriousness of the situation. He is a soldier, and that's the headspace he immediately goes into. Which has its role in the group, but the fact remains - without Joe, the three of them would let themselves be swept up by the tension in their lives and never come back. They need Joe, because they need someone who can bring levity and soul into their lives

Which is a role Joe fulfills naturally, of course, because that is who he is - he is the artist, the one who's in love with life, the one with the easygoing personality and sense of humor. But it is also a role he fulfills consciously, and deliberately, because Joe also cares deeply, and so he knows that they need him to bring them back in the moments of darkness, and he is still trying, desperately, to keep his family together emotionally

And I just wonder how much of a toll that takes on him sometimes. Because after Quỳnh and before Nile, there was no one to do it for him, no one to pull him from his own darkness. And whenever there is tension in the group, Joe needs to step up and try to take care of everyone. And I'm not saying they don't take care of him as well, obviously, but this does mean that Joe is frequently choosing to put his own fears in the backseat in order to help his family. And the thing about using humor as a coping mechanism is that it's an easy way to make your own feelings ignored, both by yourself and others

Now, obviously Joe also allows himself his feelings - part of his whole thing is that he feels so openly and so intensely - and him and Nicky are clearly constantly playing taking-care-of-each-other chess trying to outprotect the other at all times, and Andy also tries to care for them all despite her own pain. But there is this particular thing that he also needs and that no one else is really well-equipped to provide, and that kind of forces him to put his own feelings aside on a regular basis so he can help the others. And it's gotta be pretty lonely and alienating, sometimes, to be the one to always take the lead in these moments and be the only source of lightness when things get heavy

(I'd also like to take this moment to praise TOG for making it so that Joe takes this role without making him a Comic Relief Character™ and also giving him the depth and complexity he deserves. God, I love this movie)

So, in conclusion, I believe that Joe being the only one who is able to diffuse the tension in the group a lot of the time is one of the ways in which he suffers from their isolation. It makes him uniquely lonely and challenged by their immortality situation, as they all are. It is also one of the small ways in which he takes care of everyone else, and an important role he plays in the group, particularly after Quỳnh is gone and before Nile comes*

*by which I don't mean that Nile is the New Comic Relief, although she is also pretty funny. What I mean is that her arrival changes a lot in their dynamics, particularly because it makes Andy visibly lighter, so the situation changes considerably once she's in the picture

TLDR: Joe uses humor to try to support the rest of his family emotionally, and it's an interesting trait of his character

#i wrote this whole post on my phone #which had 10% battery and no signal #on a shitty public WiFi while my phone lagged and bugged every five minutes #so you know the joe brainrot is real #mr al kaysani please release my brain #tog #the old guard #meta #yusuf al kaysani #joe the old guard #joe tog #tog meta #long post #eventual italics #has tldr #immortal family

[skitskatdacat63]

Boy King AU | Vettonso + Martian | 1.3k

There's something about putting the future emperor of the Holy Realm on his knees like this. About how easily he goes, how willingly, how obediently. What would his adoring public think if they could see him now. If they saw their beloved king pressed down like this, in the cramped space between Fernando's legs. When they realized their little boy king took it like he was a little concubine instead. 

Fernando's bitterness is lifted away in moments like these, like taking off a heavy cloak on a winter's day. It was hard to feel humiliated about his own situation when watching Sebastian debase himself like this. 

He always gives himself up so easily. When Fernando threaded his fingers through his thick curls. When he pulled them, and then when he pressed his face down further down into the vee of his legs.  Sebastian rubbed his cheek into the coarse fabric of Fernando's breeches and blinked up at him. Fernando had to smother an embarrassing sound; he was just like a little cat!

Sebastian quirked his lips up into an odd little smile and slightly rose up on his knees, "What's funny?" Fernando swallowed lightly and schooled his face back into being impassive, "Nothing. As you were." Sebastian simply smirked at him and let himself be pushed back down by the fist clenched in his hair. 

Fernando scoffed internally, there was only so much pleasure in putting the other man in his place when he instead acted like this, this degrading action, was his birthright. He took to ruling and indulging in carnal pleasures as if they were of equal gravity. To be privileged to hold such high station and also let himself be taken apart like this…Fernando felt embarrassed for him.

He is dragged away from his musings when Sebastian moved to settle his hands in Fernando's lap, clutching his hips over the fabric and slightly squeezing; Fernando fought against the urge to shiver. Sebastian pushed up the skirt of Fernando's waistcoat and smoothed his hands over the opening flap of his breeches.

His eyes darted up at Fernando again, a daft smile on his face. Fernando scowled at him, "What?" Seb's grin sharpened, "You could stand to be a little more gracious. This is your future emperor, and future husband might I add, kneeling for you on this dirty, depraved, derelict- ah–" Fernando tugged on his hair again and hissed, "Well then, why don't you show me how eager you are to perform your marital duties?" 

Seb licked his lips, completely unconcerned by Fernando's annoyance, and unbuttoned one side of the closure to Fernando's breeches and moved to open the other–

The door to the carriage flew open, arrival announcement dying on a wheezing breath as the servant took in the image the two kings made. One splayed across the seat, exuding power, the other kneeled, debauched, between the former's legs. 

One would be hard pressed to determine which was higher on the totem of power and titles. 

There was something gratifying about this to Fernando, about being caught. He had been humiliated enough throughout the entire courtship, what was one more thing? And, certainly, what was one more thing if he could drag Sebastian down into the dirt with him. 

"Oh Mark, don't act so abashed! It's nothing you haven't seen before, in fact, we have been in this very position not even a fortnight ago!"

Oh. Yes. That. 

It was hard to be completely pleased when he remembered how Sebastian had already spent years prior to their engagement sampling the palace's ample selection of fellow high-born men. And how all those men seemed to be completely and utterly wrapped around his little finger.

Fernando released his hand from Sebastian's hair as if it had burned him. He did not understand why he felt ashamed with Mark looking in on them like this. Fernando was the one marrying Sebastian, not Mark; Mark was just a lowly courtier who had the esteemed duty of spending practically every waking hour with the brat…something he himself was decidedly not looking forward to. 

Sebastian stayed kneeling, staring impassively up at Mark, still fiddling with the clasp on Fernando's breeches. Fernando gritted his teeth and looked up from where he was watching Sebastian's clever little hands; Mark stared back at him placidly. 

Mark's indifference made the entire situation worse. Fernando now felt as if he was not doing anything unique, not doing anything particularly new. How many other men had Mark caught Seb with in this exact position? Fernando felt like he was just another plaything of the boy king, soon to be boy emperor, except his position was forever, permanent. He was the "Kept King", the king who only kept his throne due to the whims of a boy who doesn't even understand what power is.

Mark coughed, "Well," he says, "Your Majesty, I do believe you have a meeting to attend." Seb pouted at him and whined, "We were just getting to the main course," but still braced himself on Fernando's thighs and got up off the carriage floor. 

Seb pranced down the steps Mark had placed next to the carriage, miming tripping sown the stairs, snickering when his action made Mark reflexively reach out to grab him, and then playfully skipped off the final step. 

Fernando couldn't help but stare as Mark made the weirdest grimace in response, and he inexplicably felt all his mortification seep away from him. Huh. Maybe Mark is-

Seb then turned around and frowned at him, seemingly disappointed, but his eyes are deceivingly sharp, "Fernando, I regret to inform you that I have other duties I must attend to, you will simply have to wait." He then grinned up at Mark next to him and giggled as the other man stiffened when Sebastian looped both of his arms through Mark's. 

He leaned all his weight on the other man, Mark not so much as shifting his weight, "Oh Mark, won't you carry me back to the palace? I'm so very tired after all the horse riding," Seb looked up at him imploringly.

Fernando observed as Mark rolled his eyes and shrugged off the man, though notably not pulling his arm from Seb's grasp, and he got the distinct feeling that this exact scene had been played out countless times before. 

Fernando clenched his jaw as he watched Seb turn and saunter off, Mark trotting alongside him like a loyal dog. Fernando was supposed to be the unaffected one in this partnership, the unflustered one, the unconcerned one. And yet here he stood, in broad daylight, in a foreign kingdom, on the steps of a carriage with his breeches half unbuttoned and his cravat in disarray. 

He heard a cough from beside him, jolted and looked to the side. Sebastian's loyal Horse Master stood there, lounging against the side of the carriage. Fernando had forgotten who had even been driving the carriage in the first place. After Seb has let himself be pushed down, his hair still windswept from their ride together, everything else seemed to fade away. His thoughts were reduced only to how he could mess up the younger man's hair further. 

Jenson grinned at him wolfishly, and casually crossed his legs,  "First time?" he inquired. Fernando glared at him. The other man laughed openly at him, "What? He's a busy man with big prospects. You're not his majesty's only conquest, you know. Now your throne on the other hand…"

Fernando seethed, it was one thing to be humiliated by the future emperor, but to be patronized by the king's horse boy? No. It would simply not do. He closed his eyes in annoyance, pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaled, and prepared a speech about how he was not about to be talked down to by a man who didn't even have a throne to speak of! 

But when he opened his eyes again and opened his mouth to begin his tirade, Jenson was already wandering away to tend to the horses. Dios mío, Fernando was not mentally prepared to spend the rest of his life with all of these impertinent morons. 

#i love how i kept saying to people: no no i shant write any fic for this. only art. #me like two weeks later: hey guys :) #this is just: i was sitting in class and had a drawing idea but then im obv not drawing *this* in class so my brain went into narrative mod #not exactly 'baby's first ficlet!!!' but moreso ive not written in a while so i hope its alright??? #but aaahhh this was actually pretty fun!! idk i think it was bcs i was also being brainrotted by the image of seb kneeling.... #maybe ill draw it. but it felt like something that needed the context of narrative and not just oo here is a drawing! #anyways you can always ask me for a directors cut-(PLEASE PLEAE BEGGING PLEASE) #see this is why im not cut out for writing fic #its not like i dont think it can speak for itself. more that im just an overly reflective person who wants to explain all my thoughts #if i wrote fic itd really be just: chapter 1. chapter 1.5 chapter 2. chapter 2.5 #anyways i think its pretty obvious but this is before their wedding and just like peak bitterness. #well not peak. peak would be the first year- first few months of their marriage #but this is fernando who is only just realizing how naive all his expectations of seb were and getting a glimpse of his future #but mostly: mindgames and power play and: whos actually really winning? #also my god jense is literally the best chara in this au. he is vibing and basically just witnessing ye olde reality tv #mark and fernando are always in a weird powerplay with seb(even if seb isnt even consiously doing so) and jense is just free from it all #hmm now how does one go about tagging fic #vettonso #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #martian #sebmark #also idk why im always so concerned abt tagging when im basically just writing this for my little boy king following i have somehow formed #hahaha! it is art to me!: #catie.art. #boy king au

[thatswhatsushesaid]

the fool 🤝 jin guangyao being easily the most dynamic and compelling characters in their respective canons, likely for reasons that were substantially if not entirely unintentional on the part of their respective authors

#this thought brought to u by a conversation i had earlier today with confusion-and-more about all the different reasons jgy compels us #and remembering exactly how i felt when i first developed beloved brainrot back in the late 90s/early 00s #did robin hobb intend to write such an iconic queer deuteragonist when she first wrote assassin's apprentice? #just based on the panels i've attended while listening to her talk (and she is a very thoughtful and engaging speaker) #i truthfully don't think so since iirc she didn't intend for the fool to become as integral to the six duchies novels as he became #now try to imagine the six duchies books without him as the fulcrum that balances the weight of the whole narrative #now try to imagine mdzs without jin guangyao and his capacity for tremendous visionary change and also his darkness #also quick note don't read this post and think i'm trying to assert that they're similar characters because i am not #beyond the fact that i do not think that what makes them both so compelling to me #is what either author had in mind (at least consciously) while writing them #that said i'm so glad that they did. bless u robin bless u mxtx #thank you for the gift of the fool and jin guangyao #i don't think i'll ever get over the terminal case of brainrot i have about both of them and i'm fine with that #the fool #jin guangyao #he did crimes??? good for him 😌

[caycanteven]

@mothiepixie drug me right into another one and I fuckin' love pirates man...and I didn't even fight it lmfao. Enjoy this fun drabble I wrote up~ Fair warning, I just wrote this for fun; no idea how accurate appearances or any of the like are and I came up with "The Black Fiend" myself cause ships have cool names teehee.

The storm raged outside, but among the drunkard squabble and unrelenting retelling of stories on the seven seas, it was a hushed whisper.

This tavern wasn’t a first for her, but it was definitely one she came to seldom enough. Company wasn’t something she avoided like the plague, but she preferred to be alone when she drank her spirits. Cheers to the tavern mates who were Three Sheets to the Wind, but she wasn’t them.

She learned the hard way what it meant to take her eyes off her surroundings and get too comfortable.

She paid the price.

A minor price, but a price, one that wasn’t paid in silver.

She lifted her tankard to her lips, downing a swig of the rum within. With a lazy brush of her arm, she wiped her mouth of leftover sprits and breathed deep. It burned, but it felt so good. It always felt good.

Out of the corner of her left eye and beneath her hat, she noticed a body place themselves on the stool beside her. She grunted under her breath. Out of all the places in this damn tavern, they chose there to place their ass?

She stilled a moment before drinking once more from her tankard, her brow raised with sudden curiosity and surprise.

A lass? It was unlikely, but who would wear such robes like that around if they weren’t…though even she knew better than to judge first sight. After all, she hid well beneath her own rags just to make’er livin’ on the sea under the interpretation she was male.

Or used to.

She set her tankard down slowly in order not to draw attention to herself. She eyed the company sitting on her left thoroughly. They hadn’t requested anything, though perhaps they were already drunk. She could make out a tuff of orange below their own hat, hair no less. A rather beautiful color, like the embers on hot coals. So perhaps they too, understood the importance of hiding their appearance?

It was all too…odd. She snorted and she returned her attention to her drink. She didn’t need to bother her still sober thoughts with that of a random—

“Ye come ‘round here plenty?”

She stopped twirling her tankard, her lips just barely touching the lip of the cup. She hadn’t expected the body to speak. Why would they? She squinted her eye and she slowly put down her tankard with a heavy thud. She leaned against the counter, elbows pressed against cracked wood.

“Aye,” she muttered and she kept her eyes forward.

“Got a name?”

She glanced over, finally seeing the face of the company beside her. Feminine features, as expected, though their face was peppered in freckles and markings; their eyes were as crystal blue as the sea itself. She had to admit, they were a beauty.

“Aye.”

They seemed to be patiently waiting for more, but when she didn’t reply, they pressed further. “Gonna share it?”

“Lass, don’ ye think that’s a bit far for someone ye neva met?” She tilted her head as she turned to acknowledge them, brow raised in question.

“Isn’t that how you greet someone properly?”

Something about them was different from those she met before, behest unwillingly. Their dialect, their posture and their words…

“Ye ain’t from ‘round here, are ya lass?” She spoke with a chuckle laced in her words. They seemed naive, ignorant—perhaps she could indulge in their conversation.

The blue-eyed beauty huffed and looked away for a moment. “Ye can say that.”

She hummed softly with consideration, before taking a quick swig then placing her tankard back down again, half empty. “Ye trade me yer name, I trade he mine, is that fair lass?”

She watched them process her bargain before nodding once.

“Aye. Motti.”

Motti? Interesting, she thought as she looked this Motti up and down. Holstered to their front was a flintlock no doubt, but it was in poor shape. It made her skin crawl but she resisted the temptation to question its condition. The rest of Motti physically looked healthy, disregarding the cuts and bruises healing on her rather gentle skin.

She snorted softly before turning her body more so to face them, smiling ever so slightly, the corners of her lips curled in a smirk.

“Lexico, pleasure to make ye acquaintance. Ye call me Lex, fer short,” she hummed with a nod. Lex watched the expression on Motti’s face brighten with surprise. So she had not anticipated Lex being a woman perhaps?

“I wasn’t sure—“

“Ye’d find another like ye? Aye, don’ really. Not like how yer doin’…” Lex grunted as she swirled her tankard. She chuckled at the bewildered look on her companion’s face. She chuckled and she shook her head. “Ye don’t worry your pretty head ‘bout it. Yer still standin’, so ye good enough to believe yer well off.”

“I suppose yer right,” Motti nodded and turned to face the bar’s surface. “So Lex,” she continued after a moment, “ye happen to know anything about a captain of a ship…named Nightmare by any—“

It had happened far too quickly; a glint of metal in the tavern light, and before a Motti could register, a blade was held at a threatening point.

“Lass, ye be sure to swallow yer words,” Lex warned lowly, but there was tension in her voice. “Ye don’t speak so easily of the Black Fiend ‘round this port.”

Mottie swallowed, though gently placed the tip of her finger against the blade and pushed it away.

Lex narrowed her gaze, then slowly put her knife in her belt. “Ye brave, I’ll say that.”

“Please, Lex…” Motti pleaded quietly, moving closer to speak under breath. “I need to find him.*

Lex hissed softly as she hid her disapproval behind her drink.

She had almost finished it off before she returned a cold but curios gaze to Motti. Her eyes looked the lass over with scrutiny, but eventually relaxed slightly. “Why are ye doin’ that, lass,” Lex muttered and gave her a softer look. “The Black Fiend doesn’t sit still long enough to bring attention ‘bout. The captain more so,” she muttered, but hesitated when there was evident disappointment in her company’s face. “Royal fleet’s been chasin’ him for a long time.”

“Ye wouldn’t understand,” Motti huffed and grumbled curses under her breath, eliciting a chuckle from beside her. “I need to find him. He…”

Lex watched as the blue-eyed lass—no doubt a young pirate herself—beamed at the mention of the captain of a The Black Fiend. Lex knew that look, the glittering behind the eyes.

Lex nearly spit out her rum.

“Ye can’t be serious.”

Motti looked up quickly, the feather of her hat dancing and bobbing. She nodded once, yet hesitantly. “Yes. He’s a lost lover, to say less,” Motti huffed. “I’ve been searching for so long, but only now have I got something to run on.”

Lex nodded slowly, resisting the urge to question how that—the two of them—happened. Once Motti finished their quiet exchange, Lex sighed and pushed her empty tankard away.

“I need a crew for my ship.”

“So ye chose a tavern full of drunkards to look?”

Motti shrugged. “Easier to get them to say yes.”

Lex couldn’t stop herself from actually laughing the more she listened. “Aye, ye keep that tid bit about The Black Fiend to yerself and ye might have it in yer favor.” She sighed, though seeing as Motti was frowning and her eyes were focused on the bar top, Lex couldn’t help feel for her.

She knew what it was like to lose a lover.

She sighed, knowing she’d regret this if this didn’t go to plan. Though, it had been forever since she had a crew to call her own, a ship…a chance to sail those waters again. “Ye chose the right person to ask first,” Lex grunted and she tossed a couple shillings on the bar.

Motti beamed again in surprise and hope. “Ye considerin?”

“Aye. Ye need someone who can handle weaponry,” Lex nodded and gave Motti a smug grin. “I got all ye need to know about it. Not to mention, I got a good shot.”

Motti seemed to be in disbelief. Lex witnessed her eye move slightly to her right, obviously staring at an injury long scarred. “Ye sure?”

Lex chuckled. “Aye…” she smiled and she held out her hand.

“Don’t need two eyes to shoot a man dead. Now how bout ye let me take a look at that ol’ flintlock?”

#utmv au #pirate au #nightmare x motti #pirate lex #pirate lexico #i'm now stuck in TWO AU brainrots and I will suffer happily #i blame mothie #caycanwrite #caydrabbles #motti belong to mothiepixie #lex belongs to me #I wrote this at work #I couldn't fuckin' stop thinking about it #I had so many ideas #now i get to draw ;3 #caysdrabbles

[spaceyflowersart]

CHAINSAW MAN AU FOR LOOKISM; JOHAN AS AKI !!! PLEASE CHECK OUT THE OG IDEA/POST BY HYUSOLK HERE <3 !!!!

#lookism #johan seong #SORRY IM SCREAMING BC IM SUPER PROUD OF HOW THIS CAME OUT!!!!!!!! #SHOUTOUT TO HYUSOLK FR FOR THE OG IDEA #ALSO THANKFUL FOR MYSELF FOR FEELIN LIKE LISTENING TO CSM OPENING AND BRAINROTTING CSM AU FOR LOOKISM #CAUSE ALL THAT LEAD TO THIS AND AAWHHHHHHH AWGGHHHG [EXPLODES] #ok im normal now. sorry. anyways i meant to redraw other panels as lookism charas mimicking csm style but got carried away- #with johan's and now im both exhausted and glad i put in so much effort #also sorry x3 im. still working on requests i just... had to get out the csm au brainrot.. #hm.... wonder if i should make a tag for that in case i drop more art of this #yeah sure why not #lookism csm au #also dont mind the manga tones(?) i have on my johan i had to make do cause sketchbook doesnt have anything like that lol #oh god i just realized i wrote lol twice forgive me for being the guy that cant type a sentence without adding lol or lmao due to the fear- #of sounding unfriendly/too serious ;;;;;;;

[iguessitsjustme]

It’s been a few weeks since I binged The Eighth Sense and I have some thoughts now that I’ve processed the whole show.

I specifically want to talk about this scene and this particular line that Jae Won says to Ji Hyun:

I saw someone point out that is not how depression works and Jae Won can’t make that promise and I wanted to talk about why I think he can (though I don’t think that person was wrong because Jae Won really can’t promise his depression away). Also I know that he doesn't say the word "promise" but it's implied. Keep in mind I don’t speak Korean and I’m not sure of any nuances or anything that could potentially be lost in translation.

But when Jae Won is promising Ji Hyun that he won’t make him sad again, he isn’t promising that he will stop being depressed. Jae Won knows that’s not going to change and so does Ji Hyun. Jae Won is in therapy, he is being prescribed antidepressants. He knows that he isn’t suddenly going to be magically fixed by loving Ji Hyun. Ji Hyun knows that loving Jae Won won’t get rid of his depression. Ji Hyun knows what triggered it to begin with and he knows what caused the most recent depressive episode.

Jae Won’s promise here isn’t to stop being depressed. It’s to stop pushing Ji Hyun away in order to protect him. It’s to stop projecting his doubts and fears that he has for himself onto Ji Hyun. What Jae Won is promising here is that he will communicate. He is promising to try. He doesn’t promise perfection, he doesn’t promise everlasting love, he doesn’t promise happiness. He promises effort. Which is what I love so much about the show. The very last scene captures it so well. They are together, in a car going somewhere and they are talking about trying in the voice over. They say they’re afraid but they will still try. Because they love each other enough to put forth that effort.

Jae Won honestly needed someone like Ji Hyun in his life. He needed someone who would love and support him through the depressive episode. Who would stand by him even when he is pushing them away. Ji Hyun loved Jae Won and didn’t get angry at him for the things he did and said. Ji Hyun was worried about Jae Won and just wished for his happiness. He knew Jae Won wasn’t happy and that’s why he kept showing up. It was a gentle reminder to Jae Won that he was there. That he wasn’t going anywhere. That he loved him through it all and he would be there for Jae Won whenever and however he needed him.

And that’s love. Love is the patience that Ji Hyun showed Jae Won. Love is the effort that Jae Won showed Ji Hyun. Love is patience, love is effort, love is trying. And those two will be okay.

#the eighth sense #the eighth sense the series #honestly wrote this at work and just grabbed the screenshots when i got home #had to tell my mom to stop watching for a second so i can grab the screenshots #i stopped her at a bad spot but oh well #anyway this was my brainrot while doing quite literally nothing at work today

[poopylumpkins]

Chapters: 2/10 Fandom: Cult of the Lamb (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: The Lamb/The One Who Waits | Narinder Characters: The One Who Waits | Narinder, The Lamb (Cult of the Lamb), Shamura (Cult of The Lamb), Heket (Cult of the Lamb), Kallamar (Cult of The Lamb), Ratau (Cult of the Lamb), Aym (Cult of the Lamb), Baal (Cult of the Lamb), Leshy (Cult of the Lamb), Ratoo (Cult of the Lamb), The Red Crown (Cult of the Lamb), ??? | Mystic Seller (Cult of the Lamb) Additional Tags: They/Them Pronouns for The Lamb (Cult of the Lamb), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, the yellow cat - Freeform, leshycat, No Smut, I am an asexual (maybe) lebsin I cannot smut you guys, Canon-Typical Violence, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Fluff and Angst, perhaps, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Title from a Hozier Song, Inspired by a Hozier Song, take a guess as to which lmaoo Summary:

The deposed God of Death finds himself at the mercy of his usurper and their teachings, heresies they'd written in the book of sermons he bound together in his own infant godhood. Every time he found himself stopping right outside their tent, hoping to convene with the new god, his ego would get the better of him. There was something so wretched and broken about this lamb, they who took his crown, his teachings, his vengeance in the redemption of his siblings' souls, his teachings, and all the love in his heart. Something wretched and broken, but something true to the time and the place they'd been given.

#I cooked #cult of the lamb #cotl #narilamb #fanfic #narilambfanfic #narinder x lamb #first fic #yk what #I had an old tumblr account when I was 13 where I wrote pearlmethyst ff #so technically not actually my first ff #but I digress #wip #finals is creeping up on me so Im prepared for a race against time to pump this shit out #cuz I love writing #and I love this so far #And I fear school will interfere with that #I fear #praise the lamb #brainrot #cotl brainrot #theyre all I think about

[vhalesa]

First drawing of the year and ofc it’s them :D

#mayakuro #kuromaya #revue starlight #tendou maya #saijou claudine #revstar #g witch #gundam au #art #wlw #lgbtq #I saw this scene and was like damn i have to draw this #is now the right moment to admit that in the original sketch it was still sulemio? #I dunno what happened #as you can see the new year changed nothing i still have a severe case of mayakuro brainrot #also it's eternally funny to me that I just wrote a fic where Maya gives Kuro an crudely selfmade charm #so ofc I had to redraw them in this particular scene from episode 11

[justlikethefish]

Ilios says the Sun spoke to him, if only once.

Laska spent an entire night with Luna, walking by her side, first as a man on two legs, and later a beast on four.

I have, at times, dedicated myself to the gods. I’ve prayed with the devout, the lapsed, the tried and true, and those who had never known anything but the mealy-mouthed faith of the Immaculates. I’ve offered practical words of comfort and wisdom when there was nothing holy to say, and I’ve made excuses for spirits when I knew damn well that their all-too-mortal venality was the cause of their supplicants’ suffering. 

And somehow, when the Sun chose me, there was no comforting presence or righteous command, no guiding light or comforting, silent footsteps beside my own. There was only shadows, silence, and the stillness of night. 

#exalted #is this a thing? #should it be a thing? #does it need its own blog? #I've had Exalted brainrot for months now and then I found some stuff I wrote in 2004 and it made me want to curl up and die #but like it did kinda make me want more so I dunno. #I blame Exalted Essence for doing this to me.

[jaegerisim]

PT1

PT2

TW: internalized homophobia, manipulation, panic attacks and mileven making out (sorry y'all, it's for the plot and this the last chapter they'll do it. I pinky promise 😔 we'll get onto the Henderhop the next chapter 😀).

Also the whole diary thing in this chapter I've ripped off of the actual HP lore. 🥲 I also ripped off the whole byler fight from the s3 fight. 😞😞😞

Will was not especially happy to board on the Hogwarts Express unlike his future sister, El, who was bouncing up and down with excitement. Will had gotten to know her over the summer and despite his initial jealousy, he liked her a lot. She was sweet and caring with shoulder-length brown hair and big eyes.

Will really couldn't blame her for being so joyful, she was dating Mike after all, the most loving and perfect human-being ever and as her brother, he was happy for her. Yet, whenever he saw them together or heard them talk over the phone, his guts burnt with jealousy. El was a constant reminder of how Mike would never be his to love.

Normally sitting in a compartment with his friends would make Will happy but lately being with them made him feel alone.

Thus, the train ride had been, in Will's humble opinion, absolutely miserable. With Mike and El, in the seat next to him, not being able to stop kissing for 5 fucking minutes and Mike constantly shoving Will against the window to make room for their gross make-out session. To make matters worse, in the seat in front of him, Max and Lucas were loudly arguing but every 7 insults, they'd began to make-out sloppily.

It was as if both couples were in an intense competition of who could gross Will out more. Mike and El were clearly winning because at least Lucas and Max kiss lovingly while Mike and El just, ew.

Will was growing bored and he he'd brought his wizards chess set on board since it was one of his favorite games. Mike loved it too, and so maybe he wanted to play. Will remembered fondly how the both of them used to play it in Mike's basement. Secretly, Mike's basement felt more like home to Will than the house in which he lived. Since in Mike's basement he felt safe and mostly, loved.

So Will tapped Mike's shoulder in a poor attempt to draw his attention away from El. He was met with Mike huffing annoyed.

"Mike, do you wanna play wizards chess?" Will offered with a small smile.

"But now's not the time" complained Mike, throwing his head back.

"Is it? Is it not the time, Michael?" interrupted Will.

"Well, can I at least kiss El one last time?" giggled Mike.

"Oh, God." Max facepalmed.

Mike kissed El and reluctantly began to play. He constantly rolled his eyes, huffed and complained. Will tried to not feel hurt by his best friend's behavior but when Mike began to mock the game, something inside Will snapped.

"Fine! You win! Congratulations!" Will sneered as he got up from his seat, to leave.

"Will, I was just messing around!" Mike tried to stop Will from leaving but the other boy wasn't taking it. "Let's finish for real!"

"Just forget it Mike" sighed Will packing up the wizards chess.

"But I want to keep playing, ok?"

"I said forget it Mike, okay?" Will exclaimed "I'm going outside"

Mike put himself in between Will and the door.

"Move!" growled Will, pushing Mike and brushing passed him.

"Will, come on! You can't leave!" floundered Mike.

Bet, thought Will with bitterness.

"Listen, I said I was sorry, all right? It's a really cool game! I'm just busy with other stuff right now." Mike was clearly trying to excuse his actions but Will wasn't having it.

"Yeah, Mike, that's the problem: you guys are always busy and you're ruining The Party."

Will was finally getting to say all those things he'd felt over the the last month but hadn't told anyone out of fear. Out of fear of hurting Mike, but now Will couldn't give a fuck about Mike and his stupid feelings.

"That's just not true!" Mike shot defensively.

"Really? Where's Dustin now?" Will asked crossing his arms over his chest.

Mike remained silent as he pursed his lips.

Will asked this fully conscious Mike wouldn't know. Dustin was hanging out with Steve, someone who Dustin had bonded with over the summer. Will knew this because his brother Jonathan was Steve's boyfriend, and had told Will, Dustin tagged along on many of the couple's dates.

"See? You don't even know and you don't even care." Will spat "And obviously he doesn't either and I don't blame him. You're ruining everything and for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?"

Will shouldn't have called El stupid, he knows but in the heat of the moment and with all the bubbling anger he felt, he couldn't care less.

"El's not stupid! It's not my fault you don't like girls!" Mike yelled.

That felt like a blow in the gut, leaving Will breathless and trembling. This meant he was weak and men shouldn't be weak (or so his father had taught him and Jonathan). Still, as much as it hurt, he wouldn't cry. At least not in front of Mike.

Mike must have known he fucked up because his voice became softer and quieter.

"Look, I'm not trying to be a jerk, ok?" Mike whispered but Will scoffed. "But we're not kids anymore, I mean, what did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?''

Something in the way Mike said it sounded almost desperate and pleading.

"Yeah, I guess I did." hissed Will with venom and ironically Mike seemed more heartbroken than the brunet.

Will turned around on his heel and ran away towards the bathroom, trying to swallow the lump of rage he felt in his throat.

He truly was alone, he has no one to go to. He really didn't feel like going to his brother or mother and Robin was probably annoying (read: flirting with) Nancy.

When he opened the door and entered the bathroom, he sat under the sink and curled on himself. His breathing grew heavy as he repeated "Stupid, Stupid, Stupid" over and over like some sick mantra, until someone gently tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up and saw Professor Creel looking at him concerned.

"Will? Are you ok?" the teacher asked sitting down next to Will.

"No, not really, Professor." he answered. He felt comfortable with Professor Creel, he was the head of Will's house, after all.

"Call me Henry." smiled the blond "Not feeling too good, huh? Well, I can't have Slytherin's best Beater not feel good, now can I?"

Will chuckled feeling proud. At least someone seemed to appreciate his Quidditch skills.

"You know when I feel sad I like to write about it in my diary. Here, I'm gonna give you this notebook so that you can use it as a diary, ok?"

Henry handed him a black notebook.

"Um, yeah, ok. Cool" Will took the notebook and held it gingerly.

"Well, I best be off. I was having quite the discussion with Professor Argyle about a muggle herb called cannabis." smiled Henry.

Will didn't care about Mike saying Henry was untrustworthy, Henry was a great person who cared about Will unlike Mike, his former best friend.

Henry got up and left the bathroom leaving Will alone, once again.

Since Will had nothing else to do he decided to go inside the nearest stall, sit down and write something in the diary. So he took out the spare quill and ink he always had on himself. After all, he was an artist.

"Hello, my name is Will Byers." he wrote.

His writing disappeared and instead another message appeared.

Hello Will, I'm 001.

Will stared at the notebook in shock.

"Are you alive?" Will wrote, quickly.

You could say that, yes. I'm a trapped consciousness inside of this diary, more precisely. Still, I once was a Hogwarts student, which I’m guessing you are, right?

“Yes, I’m from the Slytherin house and starting my third year!” he corresponded.

I was a Slytherin too, the best house. If I do say so myself.

Will chuckled, was Slytherin truly the best house? Everyone seemed to despise them. Yeah, there were a couple of assholes in the house, like Billy and Troy, but weren’t there assholes in every house?

Will could name a few ones out of the top of his head: Steve, a Gryffindor, used to be an asshole until Jonathan and him got into a fistfight; Fred Benson, a Ravenclaw, had apparently done some pretty fucked up stuff too; Jason Carver, another Gryffindor, was notorious for being extremely stuck up and throwing wild parties in the boy’s dorm (there were also rumors of him cheating on his girlfriend, poor Chrissy Cunningham, with several girls).

"Well, do you mind if I tell you something? You can’t tell anyone, though.” Will scribbled in his cursive writing.

Sure. Who would I tell anyways?

“Ok, well the thing is that….” Will recounted what happened with Mike and the further in the story, the tighter he gripped his quill. When he finished, he waited to see 001’s response:

That kid sounds like such an ass, not gonna lie. You should really stop considering him your best friend. Best friends don’t treat you like absolute garbage.

Will pondered this, and really, 001 was right.

This “conversation” kept on going for the rest of the train ride and school year. Will avoided The Party, except Max, at all costs and constantly run away to “talk” with 001 (much to Mike’s disgust and jealousy).

The year went by swiftly until the very last week of June, during which, Billy had begun a fire in the Forbidden Forest in a desperate attempt to break up Max and Lucas. Fortunately, neither Lucas or Max had been harmed but Billy died. The fire was known as The Great Fire of ‘85 and it left Max completely devastated. Mostly, because her step-brother had tried to murder her and Lucas for being an interracial couple. This left her with a huge emotional burden she’d only told Will.

Thanks to 001 he’d realized that he didn’t need to be friends that weren’t from his own house. 001 had taught Will new and more powerful spells, he’d also taught Will about how being a Slytherin mean being the best.

Now, Will was determined for Max to meet 001, his other best friend, and for him to teach Max all the things he’d taught Will. So he asked a delighted Professor Creel for another notebook for Max, who reluctantly accepted it. After a day of using it, she admitted to having loved the present.

Max and Will liked to gush about 001’s appearance and while Will imagined him as a handsome man, Max imagine him as a sickly old man. They loved their new friend and thought that 001 was the only friend they needed.

In their innocence, they both believed to have met an angel or even god, when they’d actually made a deal with the devil.

#Yeah I wrote malooban make out session thru Will’s pov just to slander them #Sue me #also pray for madwise cuz my babies be making a big mistake ngl #Madwise moments >>> #I had to include the rain fight ok? #Mike is just a confused teenager ok? #I’m a Mike apologist #he gonna suffer the next chapter m’kay? #I’m warning y’all now #BILLY SLANDER MY BELOVES #IT PHYSICALLY PAINED ME TO NOT WRITE BILLYS DEATH SO INCLUDED IT AND USED IT AS A CONVENIENT PLOT DEVICE #every time I mention Billy’s racism I get +20 years of life back #Also fun fact #i wanted to include a part in which Will mentions that Chrissy cheated on Jason with Robin but then secretly began to date Vickie #In the end it didn’t fit and I cut it out but i wanted y’all to know #byler #will byers #byler brainrot #mike wheeler #byler au #byler fanfic #byler ficlet #byler angst #byler fic #madwise #el hopper #lucas sinclair #STONATHAN AND RONANCE ARE MY BABIES AND I WILL GO DOWN WITH THEM 🔥🔥🔥🔥 #harry potter byler au