#he can only have PLAIN WHITE BREAD for a while

[the-tiniest-demigod]

Could you imagine the amount of stimulation that would come with kinito coming out of the computer for the first time. do you think he could handle it

one second he's not feeling anything then next it's EVERYTHING. he can hear everything, sounds the computer microphone couldnt pick up before. he can see everything, pixels smaller than he could ever imagine. he can feel everything, the light breeze. the sun. the humidity. every breath going in and out of his gills. the sweat on his face and the tears welling in his eyes. The complete panic and fear as he goes into fight or flight do you understand

someone get this thang some noise canceling headphones

[hey-august]

Putting Buggy in my favorite tired old romcom trope and imagining him trying to set up a „perfect“ date where he tries his best to come across as a well mannered, bright, conventionally handsome gentleman, because he thinks that’s what YOU would want him to be. He knows he scored this date out of pity, but once he’s done with this evening, you’ll see him as more than a joke of a man, he can do it!

Cue slapstick scenarios en masse, causing him to loose his temper at least once, trying to impress you with a fact that YOU correct him on and that’s just so obviously wrong and an accident that leaves him with only half an eyebrow, singed tips and the wax nose (ESSENTIAL TO HIS PLAN! If he could get rid of that eyesore in the middle of his face he may have had at least a snowball chance in hell with you) to finally abandon ship and melt right of his face.

And you’re enjoying yourself tremendously. You had your doubts when Buggy came in looking so unlike himself, trying to be something he’s not, but now? After all that chaos and one candle accident later? Now that you’re sharing the bottle of wine he snagged before hauling out of the fancy place he tried to wine and dine you at, sitting on the beach laughing about everything and nothing? Perfect date. Would do again. You absolutely love that clown shit.

ADORABLE. PRECIOUS. LOVELY.

LET'S EXPLORE THIS CONCEPT SOME MORE, ANON.

WC: ~800 Warnings: buggy x GN!reader, some profanity, drinking, that's about it

Of course it’s a pity date - that’s the only reason you agreed so readily. It’s definitely not because Buggy blurted out the question before you had a chance to ask him on a date. And the way you choked on your drink? That had to be because you thought it was a joke. Not because you were surprised and excited.

Let’s not talk about everything leading up to the date itself. Like how all his “good” shirts were dirty or wrinkled. One smelled like old hot dogs. So he had to borrow a shirt and it was fine. Kind of plain, though. Not flashy. Plain white cotton, but at least it fit.

And his hair. A low ponytail would suit the occasion. Hopefully you wouldn’t notice his greasy roots. Buggy ran out of time to wash his hair because of everything else he was working on. Mainly the nose. He sculpted it out of wax and it looked… It would probably look alright during a candlelit dinner.

Buggy just needed to get through the dinner, prove himself as a decent guy, score a second date, maybe a kiss or two, and that’s all. Not too much to ask for, right?

Well…he forgot to bring you flowers. He showed up empty handed (except for the sweat collecting in his palms). You didn’t say anything, but he’s certain you noticed and were adding it to The List of Failures. And that’s only the start of his panicking.

Next, Buggy demanded a table. That table. Yeah, the one that is already occupied. Fine, okay, this table is alright. He wanted the darker corner since it was more intimate (not so he could hide his nose or the sweat stains in his pits), but whatever. 

Then he demanded the good wine. The real shit, not that cheap boxed shit. And he can tell the difference! Which is true, Buggy is a boxed wine connoisseur. Well…here’s the thing. Smell and taste are tied together, and that wax nose was more decorational than practical. Some words were had over the wine, before the sommelier brought over a dusty unopened bottle for Buggy to inspect and give gruff approval for.

You tried to interrupt and say the other wine was just as good (and far less expensive), but Buggy was too eager to please and too nervous to back down. 

The rest happened in a blur. Buggy doesn’t remember much. He might have talked over the waiter explaining the day’s specials. He definitely kicked the table a few times while trying to sit comfortably. Maybe he laughed a little too loudly and another table told him to be quiet. And maybe he threw a bread roll at that table.

Buggy definitely remembers knocking over your glass of water, though. It was an accident. He was reaching for your hand for some dumb reason and your drink got in the way. Of course he wanted to help, so he leapt out of his chair, kicking the table yet again, and pretty much threw his napkin at you.

And in this chaos, he must have leaned over the table too long. Over the tealight. Even though it was a small candle, and it was only a few seconds, his glob of wax was ready to make a grand exit. It was already barely clinging to his sweaty oily skin, and this was the right time to just -PLOP- right into a puddle of water on the table.

But here’s the thing that you’ll take to your grave. Seeing Buggy hunched over the messed up tablescape, hands over his face, and looking downright mortified and murderous - well, it made your heart pitter-patter.

Buggy looked like himself, for the first time that night. That “nose” was not really your preference, so hiding the middle of his face from view reminded you of how much you were crushing on the cute clown.

Dinner was over at this point. Staff was walking over, the table with an extra roll was also shouting for Buggy to be ejected, there was broken glass on the table. It was time to go.

Ending the night on the seashore was a much better way to spend your first date with Buggy. He had pulled out his red nose from a pocket so he could actually enjoy the wine. Surprise, surprise, it didn’t taste any better and he lamented not throwing it at the sommelier before leaving.

You’re glad he didn’t though. Because then you wouldn’t get to watch him drink from the bottle under the moonlight. His adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. Drops of liquid escaping from the corners of his lips and starting a journey down. That white shirt was now unbuttoned (so his armpits to dry out) and rolled at the sleeves. 

And, well - damn.

Buggy was definitely getting a second date and a few kisses. Maybe something a little extra for dessert.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

My brain is back on its ukrcan bullshit. Katya has been fighting for her life her entire life. The greatest and often worst warrior cultures Europe ever produced populated her rivers from the west, the greatest horsemen her plains from the east. Great is not good, not here. Her blood is her soil. She rests on the bones of millions. She is where empire's die, she waters her growth with their blood. Russians, Vikings, Pechenegs, Germans, Ottomans, Magyars and Mongols. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust and she rises like the stalk of a sunflower from it all.

And here is a boy before her, with a soul made of the same black earth as her own. Different, but still built upon the bones of those before and below. He has the capacity for the great acts of evil. His siblings and even his parents recoil in horror at what blood he can draw when he must. Katya does not. She recognizes it, the need for the skill, and the need to water one's own life with blood. She does not recoil.

But at the end of the first great war she plucks the blade from his hand. She commands his sister and his uncle, if they love him, to drum him and his gas seared lungs out of the army and send him home. Do not let him join the Polar Bear Expedition. She knows the whites have lost before another civil war has erupted from the violence of this first great war. Perhaps she writes to his brother, who did not come of age in the Great Game against her brother. Perhaps she harnesses his idealism in her favor, appeals to the zealot in him and tells him to save his brother's soul. Take him home. Keep his soul safe. Perhaps she is in the West, to command her case for independence as short lived as it is. Or perhaps she only writes after he has blooded her brother in the far north, dropping his rail guns and feeding her again on the blood of bolsheviks he turns to mist and gore. Perhaps he gets south, perhaps within reach of her. Perhaps he's strapped to the chair of a prisoner of war in a Kyiv prison like his countrymen when she says hello, I love you, good bye, survive.

In her hand on paper, his face in her hands, in his dreams, or maybe only in her prayers she wills him to let the soft in him survive. That she does not care what he does, the softness in him must live.

The boy who asked her to live with him with a loaf of bread in his hands, the ones her people use for weddings. The one who could braid her hair while she slept next to him in the light of dawn just because he thought it beautiful. She pinned those braids into the marriage style peeking out from under the scarf that will change his people's sense of themselves forever. The boy who put her first wherever he could and asked for nothing but her affection, if he had earned it.

She has blood enough of her own, steel enough of her own. She does not need his.

She needs his hands without the blood on them. He must go home, hammer his sword into the scythe. Reap not souls but the wheat from the black earth soil he learned to love as he loves her, as she learned to love him. He must hang lace curtains in his windows and pull bread from the earthen oven and love her. Be as the queen of Ithaca, as the Greeks who once rested on her Black Sea ports spoke of. He does not weave and unweave a shroud, because she cannot be killed anymore than the Gods who meddle in the affairs of man could. Perhaps instead of a Greek's shroud it is the embroidery is burned into him as obvious as the veins in his winter pale wrists. But he sings her songs, un-sings them, re-sings them in a thousand riffs in her languages, in his, in all of them. And perhaps, where the Queen of Ithaca took her signs from Poseidon, they take theirs from each other. Maybe her language has soaked into him like the blood or the hard driving rains of the steppe and the prairies into that black soil soul and when he prays it isn't to a God he doesn't believe in but to her. Maybe those words flow across oceans and ideology and he can hold her hand for a moment in their dreams while they wait, wait, and wait for better days. A reminder of a softer dawn that may yet bring forth a brilliant blue day to paint her hair and her wheat as gold and endless as the horizon.

[incorrectklavekatz]

What are your favorite Kurt moments?? (Movies, comics, cartoons- doesn't matter) ((I'm just trying to find out more about the silly since I've only recently got into x-men and wanna know more))

Also do you have any Kurt Headcanons???

Favourite Kurt moments!!! + some head canons at the end

-“somebody so beautiful should not be so angry” from X2, I’m just a sucker for Kuroro and their dynamic is 10x better than whatever Logan and Jean had going on!

-any interaction he has with kids in the comics, he’s so good with them and he’s often not given the chance because the other xmen think he’ll scare them, but oftentimes they’re more fascinated by his appearance than anything

-when he jumps on Logan because he gets a fright and refuses to get down until he knows it’s safe (comics)

-using his image inducer to look like Errol Flynn (his pirate idol)

-jumping in the river after Raven ten minutes after he found out she was his mother only to immediately start drowning and get fished out by rogue holding him by the scruff of the neck in the original cartoon

-that comic cover of him just?? Standing there naked while Logan watches him???

-any panel of him and storm ever

-him and Angel’s fight scenes in Apocalypse

-him falling asleep while everybody else is fighting for their lives, also in Apocalypse

-“no mein friend, nine”

-his entire fight scene in the White House at the beginning of X2

Kurt HCs!!

-he has a lot of cat like traits - eg napping in the sun, purring, expressing how he’s feeling through body language

-him letting somebody help him groom his fur is an EXTREMELY personal thing, he only lets people help if he really trusts them

-incredibly fancy handwriting

-has ARFID - main safe food is plain hamburgers or bread

-sees in ultraviolet, also incredible vision up to 20ft and beyond that he can’t see for shit

-personally a fan of Kurt with bird like feet and claws rather than the long nails, but that’s a style choice!

-he can move his ears independently and they often pin back if he’s scared or uncomfortable

-he wraps his tail around his leg as a nervous habit

-he experiences withdrawals if he’s given sedatives or pain medication after an injury due to the drugging he received in the circus

Thank you for the ask!!! I have focused predominantly on more upbeat stuff - but if you’d like more of the angsty stuff let me know!

[chvnnie]

Hannie thoughts 🩷

He pursued you so sweetly and now you're expecting a sweet slow courtship. But now that he realizes just how into him you are, he takes full advantage. Rough in the bedroom confident Jisung. 😍 Y/n overwhelmed but secretly loves it.

“courtship” gave me royal vibes. soooOoOOOo

also idk why this is so long!!! im sorry!!! this concept got the best of me!!!

tell me you love royal aus without telling me 🫠

SMUT — MINORS DNI

The kingdom is lucky to have Jisung on their throne. Crowned as a mere teenager, nobody expected the Young King to thrive. What could he possibly know about ruling a kingdom? In three years time, they’ll lose all credibility, and he his head. Just watch; a boy cannot be King.

Within a year, all ill words spoken about the King were silenced. Charismatic, yet shy, he found his footing in royal life with ease. Leading council meetings, carefully listening and fairly judging every case brought to the court. Age is deceiving; the people haven’t had a leader of this quality in many, many years.

It wouldn’t be fair to say Jisung is just a good King. Even though ten years have passed since his coronation, he can still be found dressed in plain clothes without jewels or his crown, riding into town on his precious golden mare. She is cared for by his Hand, and best friend, as he walks the market.

Not a single stall is passed by him, even if the products are the same as the day before. Carefully, he will look over each and every item while making small talk.

“Alright this morning, Sir?”

“Is this a new recipe? The bread is sweeter than usual — it’s wonderful!”

“Oh my, your craft has improved greatly! I am impressed, keep at it!”

And then the King hands them exactly three gold coins even if he has no intention of buying anything. They’ll offer him something; a small item, or a piece of food, but he always denies it. A gift for them. Encouragement. Proof that he sees their skills and what they bring to the kingdom and is appreciative of it. It also reminds them that he truly cares about them as people. Without them, this city wouldn’t flourish the way it does.

Occasionally, he’ll buy something from the baker. He’s particularly fond of the blueberry poppy bread she makes. She’s a good woman; her husband fought hard and loyally for his father, and for that Jisung is eternally grateful for. Some weekends, he’ll visit her in her cottage. Have tea with her, listen to stories of her late beloved and all the great things he did in life.

She always gets five coins. But shush, don’t tell anybody.

At the end of the market is the only stall he’ll buy from everyday. Brown paper, pink twine, white daisies. The same thing, everyday. The florist always gives him a warm smile.

“How is she?”

And it brings a smile to The King’s face. The genuine care in their tones — because he genuinely cares.

“Well.” He digs in his coin purse, always pulling out too many coins. Just speaking about his love tinges his cheeks a dark pink. “As always.”

An exchange — coins, flowers. “When will you wed?”

“Shortly after my celebration day.” He denies the return of extra coins, as usual. “The autumn weather is her favorite.”

“Wish her well for me.”

“Of course.”

Jisung is a man of routine. Personal goodbyes to each and every merchant before he’s back on his horse. The sky is still pink when he’s back at the castle. The Hand takes his horse so the King can walk through the cool halls. Take the winding stairs up to the top level, where the royal family sleeps.

It used to just be him in this hall. Echoey, empty, reminding him of what price has to be paid for him to take the throne.

Not now, though. The room at the opposite end of the hall is now filled, well loved and used.

Taking a right from the staircase brings him to the door. Kindly dismissing the guard, the King knocks three times. A code; announcing himself without having to.

“Come in!”

The curtains are pushed open, fresh sunlight spilling in from the many windows. Yesterday’s daisies are in a crystal vase, sat on the table in the sitting area. Beautifully bloomed, the floral scent filling the golden room.

You’re by the biggest window, sat on the ledge. The glass is pushed open just slightly, letting the spring breeze cool your body. The dress you’re wearing is one of Jisung’s favorites; off the shoulder, a lavender color with little flowers stitched into the neckline with white thread.

The most beautiful soon-to-be Queen the land has ever seen.

“Good morning, petal.” The nickname rolls off his tongue. “Rest well?”

Closing the book, you nod. “And you, my dear?”

“All right.” Only a few steps away, he takes the bouquet out from behind his back and presents it to you. “For you. As always.”

Oh, the bright smile you give him. It’s like he’s falling in love with you all over again. Gracefully, you rise from your seat and take the fresh flowers, bringing to your nose to sniff.

“They’re lovely, Jisung. Thank you.”

Everyday, a peck to his cheek. Quick — you’re far too shy to linger. The King has a routine. So he turns his head just slightly, left side of his face presented to you. Ready to receive your gratitude.

The routine breaks. Swiftly, you walk past your fiancé, taking the flowers to the vase. Leaving him stunned.

Strange.

“I was wondering if today we might ride to the sea?” You don’t look to him as you speak — actually, it looks like you’re trying to hide behind the white flowers. “I’ve been a tad homesick.”

The steps he takes are cautious. “Of course.” Hesitance is laced in his tone. This isn’t your ordinary behavior. “What’s on your mind, darling?”

It’s like you’ve seen a ghost, blood running from your face and eyes widen. But in a snap, the expression is gone. “Oh, nothing. I want to write about the sea, you know how my brother loves it.”

Carefully, Jisung takes a seat on your velvet sofa. “Ah, yes. How is Seungmin?”

“His letters say he is well. The ocean is treating him nicely, though I wish he wouldn’t have chosen that path.”

Son and daughter of a prestigious family. One to be Queen, the other a runaway pirate.

“There’s always room for him in our kingdom. He would do well with us.”

You swallow dryly. What is happening? “The gracious and merciful Young King, what would this world be without you?”

Jisung can’t take this anymore. What has gotten into his beloved? Where is your head at? Grabbing your wrist, he pulls you away from the vase. Making you stand in front of him.

“Speak your worries.”

“I have none, Your Grace—“

“Though merciful, you know I hate to be made a fool.” His eyes narrow, but expression stays soft. “Love, let me help.”

You can’t meet his gaze, staring at the slit in your dress as you speak. “I’m afraid my thoughts are…doubtful.”

“Of?”

Finally, your eyes meet.

“Oh.”

What good is a crown? What good is a throne? What good is this kingdom if you are not by his side? Emotions tear at him, making his lip tremble despite his best efforts.

“Not of that kind.” You quickly reassure, catching the hurt on his face. “You are my love, Jisung. I would never want a life without you.”

“Good, good.” He won’t deny his worry. That isn’t fair to you. “Then what is it?”

Jisung thinks you’re precious. You still get so shy around him, even after years together. Especially when you want to express your feelings or ask for something.

Reassuringly, he rubs his thumb over the top of your hand, still caught in his. “You don’t have to—“

“I don’t want to wait any longer.”

The way you said it, so firm and confident. As if you’ve been pondering this, an opinion you’ve held for a while and are now sure of. The King is taken aback briefly, trying to figure out what your words mean.

“For the wedding?” It’s all he can come up with, but even he doesn’t sound too sure in it. “I’m sure we could plan it for the upcoming solstice, my love, if that’s what you desire.”

You shake your head quickly, and he can tell you’re starting to second guess saying it. “No, no. I want to wed in autumn. I don’t want to wait for you.”

What ever could you mean? Wait for him? Why, he’s right here. Touching you, speaking to you. Are you feeling ill? Those words make no—

Oh.

Oh, how he made himself the fool.

Suddenly, he’s in dire need of wine. Mouth dry, tongue heavy. Though he’s had many, many dreams of you in such a way, never would he push it on you. You felt as if your body was sacred, and he respected that. The King wants nothing but for you to feel comfortable and safe around him. If you were waiting for him, he would be waiting for you as well.

Sometimes the dresses you wear do drive him mad. Form fitting and hugging your curves, or with a lower neckline that he can see down at the right angle. Those have made it hard, and only starved him more. Like dangling bread in front of the hungry.

“Are you certain?” Jisung finally speaks, tone dropping several octaves.

You nod, softly wrapping your other hand around the one he has grasped. It’s so delicate, how you drop to your knees in front of him. Starry eyes blinking at him.

“More than, my King.” You bring the hands to your lips, soft kisses across his knuckles. “My patience is dry. I no longer want to wait for your love.”

“Rise.”

“What?”

“Your King gave you a command.” His demeanor changes like a switch, the feral need he’s drowned for so long rising to the surface. “Rise. No Queen of mine will ever kneel, even for me.”

Your eyes never leave his, standing up fully in front of him. He follows, using your hand as a guide up and into your body. A hand on the left side of your neck, fingers creeping into your perfectly combed hair. It’s used to bring your lips to his, properly kissing you.

Many kisses have been shared between you, but none like this. It’s intense, every pent up and buried feeling finding new life with the movement of your lips. It’s more addictive than the blueberry poppy bread from the baker, tongues desperate for the taste to linger. For the feelings to stay.

Loving you is a greater honor than the crown, the King is sure of it.

He curses your corset, making you giggle when he spins you gracefully to get a better look at it. The tugs on it are rough, eager to get the fabric off your body. Heavens, Jisung knows he loves this dress but does it have to be so dreadful to remove?

It’s too much. Your desires tangle with his own, sparking brighter than the jewels on the crown. Than the gold of coins. The energy it deepens the King’s decent — the hole you’re tumbling into doesn’t have a bottom.

Your nails rip his shirt, accidentally tangling the strings of his pants in your rush. There’s no grace in the first moments. Ready to see each other’s bodies, to touch, to taste. To be one.

The King tries his best to be gentle with you. To give you the sweetest kisses, careful touches. He’s heard stories, knows that it can be too much. The last thing he wants is for you to not find pleasure in this.

But, it can only last for so long. The breaking comes with he accidentally takes your breath away — truly, he didn’t mean to place his hand there. Apologies are ready to fumble out when he sees it.

The look you give him. Shocked, a little frightened. But excited.

Jisung never considered his ego very large, but he’s open to self reflection.

“Oh, petal, is this what you like?” He squeezes your throat, tips of his fingers digging into your soft skin. Though you nod, there’s no real need for an answer. He can feel it in the clench around his cock, the legs hooked around his waist pulling him closer. With a dry laugh, he picks up the pace of his hips. Fucking you hard enough the bed is becoming unstable. “I have to admit my surprise. The shy, gentle Queen likes to be fucked like a common whore.”

As soon as the words leave, he feels a tinge of regret. What harsh words to say to someone he loves—

Do his eyes deceive him? You’re whimpering, nodding your head. Unable to speak from the lack of air, but in full agreement.

Heavens. The King is done for.

“I’m sure they’d be glad to have you at the brothel.” Control is lost, the wooden frame starting to crack under the King’s intense movements. “Let the people have a taste of the King’s favorite cunt.”

“N-no.” You seem to speak. “Only y-you—“

“Aw, don’t be selfish, petal.” He pinches your cheek, finding joy in the tears painting your face. “You know I am a generous ruler.”

Jisung enjoys riling you up like this. Enjoys the tears, the cries, the way you’re twitching and squirming underneath him. Not to escape. No, from the force of something world shattering.

“Are you going to cum?” He teases you. “From those awful threats?”

You cannot help yourself, nodding quickly. Little, soft begs falling from your lips.

Maybe Jisung is power hungry. Maybe the crown has gone to his head. Maybe that’s why he laughs, stopping to leave you right on the edge. You’re so distraught, wide eyed and frantically begging for him to finish.

“Oh, but petal. I never said I would be generous to you.”

[joltai-showa]

This post is a reply to these two posts, so if you wanna see me go insane over how Kishimoto completely managed to fail at writing Obito aka the villain that was the main threat for the majority of Naruto and Rin, do check them out first.

So PSA before continuing reading this: I will be replying to both posts consequetevely, which means that there's likely gonna be a bunch of stuff repeated. I don't like to sound like a broken record, but so many of my issues with Obito, Rin and Obirin crash into certain stuff that it's important to bring it up whenever it is needed.

And yes, I really dislike Obirin. On a good day for me this ship brings me as much excitement as drinking plain room-temperature water and chewing on some stale soggy white bread. It's a ship of the worst variety to me - it's simply boring, a good awkward boy and a good nice girl who's entire life seems to revolve about being emotional support pillow for said boy. And that's on a good day, because the manga aka canon generally isn't having a good day when it comes to the writing of these two, so these characters and their ship as it stands in canon requires the reader to switch between ignoring approximately 90% of what Obito does and approximately 50% of Rin does to get to the perception of cutesy doomed love that Kishimoto desperately wants to peddle. If the reader does not follow what Kishimoto wants to tell them (but isn't capable of showing at all), then what actually ends up happening is two psychotic bipolar little maniacs blabbering about some senseless bullshit that results in about a hundreds of thousands of people dead for ABSOLUTELY no reason.

(and yes if you have never come across my posts previously, I am prone to swearing, it is not some sort of agression against you or anything, this is simply how I am used to writing my own analysis posts)

so let's start with @innovativestruggles points:

I have always been an avid obirin shipper, and as a feminist, people may question the contradictory nature of this.

I'll be completely honest with you, the fact that you were attempting to defend anything female character related in Naruto is already brave enough, considering that Kishimoto can not write a female character for his life. Almost all of them end up being entirely depended on male character's goals and desires, almost all of them end up following in the "designated important male character's" steps, they pretty much have no interests or goals of their own, just their guy. Rin is even worse than that, because she is not even a proper character, again, on a good day she is just a placeholder thing for a female character, and in general in the manga she is nothing more than a plot device, a function that takes actual characters like Obito and Kakashi and produces some sort of results with them while she acts as the supposed reason for their actions. I specifically say supposed, because Kishimoto wouldn't be himself if he did not write Obito in such a horrible manner that all three of Obito's bullshit mantras that he is producing after his reveal did not clash with his MANY MANY horrific actions.

Obito is in an incredibly complex character and alas, there is a reason why I absolutely love him. He is my favourite, has always been and will always be (also, he’s a villain and he’s hot). Though there are parallels between Obito and Naruto, it’s important to distinguish the nuances. Both characters had no family growing up (I am not going to count Obito’s grandma as she is an anime only character and not technically canon), had it tough at the Academy, disliked by a lot of people and technically an outlier.

Obito as a concept desperately wants to be a complex character, but Kishimoto needed him to go through a shitty redemption arc real quick, thus Obito ended up being reduced to a 1.5 dimensional character that has exactly three types of arguments:

endless boring yapping about Rin (which feels like 80% of what he speaks about. ever.) about 5 of same frames shoved into the reader's throat every time this happens. real fascinating stuff, especially when this is what happens for 30 chapters straight (I am not kidding, I reread Naruto from 599 to about 660s, my eye is twitching)

woah look the world is such a hell (*insert three pages of nihilistic bullshit*). seems to be a critique of the shinobi world, but when you look into it - no, this is just this 30 year old man throwing a temper tantrum against not the system itself, but something like "friends dying", "friends betraying", "just death in general". Nothing of actual value that would make him the supposed destroyer of the system and savior of humanity, no, he is acting like an absolutely delusional child. the fact that this particular character does this is riduculous and a fucking insult to the reader's intelligence, because this guy has NO FUCKING reason to be this swallow and, I would even say, idiotic. this man has commited way too many war crimes and is responsible for far too many deaths, directly or indirecly, to ever have the fucking right to have the same stupid rhethoric that Naruto has. I can only say FUCK YOU to Kishimoto whenever he pulls this thing out of his ass in an attempt to make any of Obito's actions seem justified. Obito literally never manages to pinpoint anything correct of the system's faults (AND GOD IS THE SYSTEM FAULTY)

actual abuser ramblings. I feel like I am about to become Joker whener this shit happens. Obito kills someone, or someone who worked under Obito kills someone de-facto on Obito's orders, something happens as a result of Obito's actions - AND OBITO, GRABBING RANDOM SHINOBI #1314146 LIKE AN ABUSIVE HUSBAND WOULD GRAB HIS WIFE, STARTS SCREAMING INTO THEIR FACES, ALL SATISFIED AND HAPPY "LOOK! LOOK! SEE WHAT A TERRIBLE THING HAPPENED! ARE YOU FEELING DESPAIR OF THIS WORLD? GOSH THIS WORLD IS TERRIBLE! BUT DON'T WORRY, I'LL FIX THIS. JUST STOP RESISTING ME AND ALL WILL BE FINE." and NO ONE in the manga EVER bothers calling out this bullshit, because that would make Kishimoto admit that Obito is not a poow liwwle baby boi🥺🥺🥺🥺that just lost hiw way🥺🥺🥺🥺and aktually onli wanted to be with his fwiends and become the Hokawe🥺🥺🥺🥺but an absolutely batshit insane piece of shit that has no hill to die on

And you think I am being overly dramatic with the whole "abuser talk", here's some lovely stuff from chapter 646

For context, Obito activates the Divine Tree that kills a bunch of shinobi after instantly sucking away their chakra. And then he has the audacity to say that shit while everyone's watching how Mr. Genocide turns their comrades into husks. And if you think that, well, this is just some randos, they are here to raise the stakes of this endless battle, but no, Shikamaru also almost gets sent into the afterlife while Obito is preaching "if you stop fighting, I won't kill you". Just what an awesome guy.

But I got off track, back to the reply. Post 599 Kishimoto goes fucking ham on the parallels between Naruto and Obito... especially the ones that weren't even there. Because he is perfectly aware that even with the whole delulu savior shit that Naruto gets by using talk-no-jutsu, if things are left as they were pre-599 (which pretty much includes only Kakashi Gaiden aka 239-244), Naruto HAS ZERO REASON not to cave Obito's skull in and drop this asshole's corpse somewhere in the nearest ditch. Kishimoto, starting with Obito's reveal, adds more and more shit for Naruto to latch on, because otherwise what we have is a protagonist who pretty much doesn't have any companions who didn't get their lives completely fucked over by Obito, not too mention that 99% of Naruto's suffering comes DIRECTLY from Obito's actions.

So let's look at these GREAT parallels, which, thankfully, Kishimoto decided to put out in one monologue of Naruto's in chapter 653

neither knew their parents

correct, but a very simple a short question from me🥰so who is the reason for Naruto never knowing who his parents were? Who was such a meanie to take away Naruto's family? Who put fucking bombs on him 5 minutes after his birth?

(chapter 501)

Oh, right. The poow liwwle baby boi who only had Rin as his light and just dreamed about becoming Hokage.

I will go off track again, because the manga itself brings it up, but it's another important thing that Kishimoto wishes his readers to lobotomize themselves about: the timeline

The murder of Kushina, the resulting death of Minato and the destruction of Konohagakure all happened 16 years before the events of Shippuden. For the sake of simplicity, Shippuden will be set in year 80 (after Konoha's foundation), so the attack took place in year 64.

Obito is 30 (I have seen that he is sometimes supposed to be 31, but 30 is easier on the shaky lore of Naruto) in Shippuden. The Kannabi bridge mission was supposed to be around the same age that team 7 had in OG Naruto - 12-13. So Kannabi happened in year 62-63. Meaning, that IN BEST CASE SCENARIO between Obito waking up at Madara's and

1) murder of his teacher's wife 2) battle to death with his teacher 3) murder of his classmate's mother (the woman that Obito kills before taking Naruto? Sarutobi Biwako, Hiruzen's wife. And Hiruzen is Asuma's father) 4) large-scale destruction of the village he, supposedly, wanted to become a Hokage of

is at best A YEAR, if not just a few months. Because, again, Obito was recovering for some time, then the whole Rin's death scene, and then Madara trained him and explained him the plan. According to Obito's flashback in 600s, Madara kills himself by plugging himself off the Hashirama life support, and only after that Obito starts the whole grooming Nagato for the plan and attacks Konoha.

I point this out because I have seen numerous times how the defenders of poow liwwle boi Obito try to deflect the blame for Obito's actions by claiming that Madara made him do this. Madara WAS DEAD during all of this shitshow. Moreover, as you will see later in this post, Obito repeatedly does things that are NOT aligned with the whole ideal world creation and salvation for everyone, moreover, they oftentimes CONFLICT with this plan, and just outright scream I AM A PSYCHO WHO WANTS TO COMMIT MASS MURDER FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES

First of all, yes, let's admire how righteous and totally not maniacal Obito looks at the moment. "Do you know how long I have waited for this" MY ASS SHUT UP you're a cringe 14 year old. Secondly, let's hear out his wonderful plan, which is "gonna extract Nine-Tails, gotta crush Konoha". And while the first point does correlate with Eye of the Moon - they need the Tailed Beasts, after all - but then in Obito's flashbacks we learn THAT NAGATO WAS NOT ON HIS SIDE YET. THE GUY WHO CAN CONTROL GEDO MAZO AND STORE THE TAILED BEASTS IS STILL NOT WORKING WITH THEM. WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ATTEMPTING TO STEAL NINE-TAILS THEN?? WHERE ARE YOU GOING TO PUT HIM??? Oh, maybe Obito kept a close eye on Kushina and realized that she was soon gonna give birth, which would be the primary opportunity to yoink Kurama? WRONG. OBITO BY SOME SHEER COINCIDENCE OVERHEARS KAKASHI TALKING ABOUT THIS OVER RIN'S GRAVE. HE THEN PROCEEDED TO KNOCK OVER THE FLOWERS ON HER GRAVE AND THEN ATTACKS KONOHA. HOW THE FUCK IS IT HELPING WITH THE PLAN???? YOU'RE JUST GIVING THEM 29847238 OPPORTUNITIES TO RECAPTURE THE THING????? YOU'RE ATTRACTING THE WORLD'S ATTENTION TO THE FACT THAT SOMEONE'S OUT THERE TRYING TO GET THEIR HANDS ON THE TAILED BEASTS??????

So, obviously, there is zero rationale for Nine-Tails' attack from the plan perspective. Well, maybe it alings with Obito's ideals, whatever the fuck they are? Obviously, glasses Obito would never do anything like WIPING OFF HIS AND HIS FRIENDS' HOMES OFF THE MAP and kill his dear sensei's FAMILY. MOREOVER, Rin fucking DIES trying to prevent Isobu from being unleashed on Konoha and decimating it, so what does our poow liwwle lover boi does? That's right, he pulls out Kurama and decimates the village only a some months after Rin died trying to protect it from the very same thing happening. Oh, wait, Kishi, so did she see that while in Pure Lands or not? Or does she have selective vision?

And mask Obito can be rationalized to do this by saying "oh, he's just showing the people the DeSpAIr", but again, this contradicts the manga with Obito saying "I don't care about this world yada yada", there is nobody who exactly would become targets for this campaign (Obito's endless speeches in 599 onwards are aimed at Kakashi/Naruto/etc) because we just see Obito interacting with Minato and Kushina, which would become despaired off the simple fact that Kushina is getting murdered by someone extracting the Tailed Beast, the village being crushed is just something on top that literally endangers his little precious plan more than it achieves anything. Is Obito ever shown to regret this as a stupid stunt or as act of terrorism against the village he supposedly love? NAHHHH WE CAN THROW IN OUR 20TH RIN FLASHBACK

Oh, and the timeline thing is important for another reason: poow liwwle boi defenders like to say that Obito went through so much and had witnessed the DarKneSS of the shinobi system, which is the reasoning for him going crazy and attacking Konoha. Obviously, this is bullshit, because the poow liwwle baby boi had no time to see anything about the grander shinobi system, he had been with Madara for several months with Madara being mildly ominous in the background and saying the most vague evil shit imaginable (before Obito runs off for Rin and Kakashi, he is still believer in the power of friendship and such, and the manga shows them having a whole wooping 1 conversation), then he witnessed Rin die, instantly became evil and commited a massacre (so much for cutie patootie liwwle boi), and then goes off to learn the plan from Madara and train to become as powerful as he is during Obito vs Minato. Even if I ignore the shitty writing that is supposed to suggest that Obito HAS ALL OF THESE IMPORTANT REALIZATIONS outside of the main plot, the timeline simply affords no place for him to comprehend the evils of the shinobi system. So yes, Obito is literally going off his anger over Rin dying and something something Minato being on another mission something something Kakashi (because there is two versions of the things Kakashi did that Obito is supposed to see, but Kishimoto conviniently shoves that little problem under the rug, god forbid we have any actual emotional interaction from Obito's character that doesn't involve the whole lazy Rin bullshit).

So, we are just on our first simularity between Obito and Naruto, and we already see that Obito's poow traumatized baby boi narrative falls apart when we decide not to go for the lobotomy Kishimoto wants, but instead realize that a) Naruto should punch Obito's skull open for ever mentioning his parents b) Obito is a mass murdering maniac with zero excuses and zero remorse

so let's continue with the parallels, shall we?

had it tough at the Academy

Now you're simply projecting Naruto's issues onto Obito. We have exactly two pages of Obito in the Academy years, and they are from chapter 599

And the thing that you are claiming as "him having it tough in the Academy" is.... him arriving late at the entrace ceremony in the Academy, Kakashi sighing at him, others kids just going back home, and Rin bringing him his entrance papers. Sorry, who is giving him a tough time here? Kakashi sighing? Kids who likely meet him for the first time not interacting with him? The Academy not waiting with finishing the ceremony because one kid is late?

Yes, this scene does show Rin being nice to him, but nothing more than that. I am not sure how old exactly the kids are in this scene, but considering Kakashi would graduate at 5, I would say that it's about 4 years old? Obito would go on to graduate at 9. A five whole wooping years that are completely not covered by this first scene.

(chapter 1)

And coming back to Naruto's issues at the Academy - Naruto was a delinquent that drew poop on the Hokages' faces AND he failed the graduation exam two times already, meaning that by 12 years old he got held back quiet a bit. He also has this little problem called being a jinchuriki, of which most parents are aware, and explicitly tell their children to stay away from him.

Obito graduates at normal time (9 years), similarly to Rin, Kurenai and Asuma. The only outliers would be Kakashi and Gai, both of whom would become two of the strongest ninja in their entire generation. Obito didn't cause trouble, in fact, it's repeatedly said that he helped the elderly around (and according to his own words even KNEW all of old people in Konoha when he meets Madara). Nobody in the village is ever stated to have anything against Obito, he's just an orphan from the Uchiha clan.

Literally nothing suggests that Obito had it tough in the Academy

disliked by a lot of people

Again, there is little confirmation of that in the manga.

Does his clan hate him? If so, why? There is no confirmation of this, moreover, Kishimoto keeps Obito's plot line and Uchiha's so apart it's actually absurd, but nothing in the story suggests that they should hate him or even simply not care for him. This is again in contrast to Naruto's own parents, because his Namikaze lineage was hidden (regardless if there were even relatives who could have taken care of him) and Uzumaki clan was decimated some time during the Third Shinobi World War, scattering the small amount of remaining members across the globe.

Do the villagers hate him? If so, why? There's also no evidence of that, on contrary, he was very friendly and helpful to the elderly around the village, so it would not be strange if a few of them were looking out for Obito. Obito has an annoying habit of coming late and being a bit of crybaby, but that wouldn't be enough to make the villagers dislike him. Unlike Naruto who is the vessel of the nuke that ravaged the village just 12 years before he learned of the reasons behind his mistreatment by the village.

Do his classmates hate him? Again, nothing is known about his Academy years except for one singular scene where he just meets them, but 599 also shows us some more interactions between him and the other kids in his generation... during the chunin exam

Do I even need to comment on how this is not anyone disliking him? This is just how competition goes.

Oh, and there's also a bunch of other minor things in this chapter, but I think it's a good time as any to introduce them😇

This. scene. right. here. It pisses me off to no end. You wanna know why?

Because this is the FIRST time we get Obito's Hokage's bullshit.

That's right, you aren't mistaken. The original Obito introduced to us in Kakashi Gaiden (239-244) NEVER EVER states that he dreams about becoming Hokage. He says stuff about how shinobi should act, he says how he's gonna become strong and tough once he awakens his Sharingan, he says how he is gonna protect Rin and others, he says how he is gonna see the future with the eye he gave Kakashi, etc etc. BUT NOT A SINGULAR MENTION OF HOKAGE BULLSHIT.

Kishimoto, for some mysterious reason, never introduced this CORE part of Obito's character (to the point Naruto literally yaps about JUST IT when he enters Obito's inner world thanks to the power of plot) when writing the original Obito, but the moment he needed to do the whole reveal thing and the shitty redemption arc in 30 or so chapters for a guy who's been our main villain for almost 300 chapters - oh hell yeah in 599 Obito gets the same fucking dream as Naruto, because otherwise Naruto has 0.0000001 reasons not to beat up this piece of shit. So, again, FUCK YOU, Kishimoto.

Right, what I was on about? Ah, Obito's classmates. So there's a bunch of other scene where Obito - HOLY FUCKING SHIT - is seen with someone other than Rin, Kakashi and Minato (very deep character, am I right)

And it's literally Obito being focused on Rin cheering Kakashi on (you know, THEIR TEAMMATE), so no interaction between the gang and him, and then later when we see them all planning gifts for Kakashi (who became a jonin at 13, A BIG FUCKING THING) while Obito is flustered because he was planning on confessing to Rin at that moment.

So, literally, the only person amongst his classmates who openly disliked him was Kakashi, who had a damn stick up his ass and wasn't really friendly to anyone (which we can see with how pretty cold to Rin and Gai he was at the time). And, of course, because we are dealing with Kishimoto, 239-244 Kakashi is a much bigger asshole than kid Kakashi in flashbacks post 599. Like, the OG Kakashi actually bullied Obito for his weakness, while the later one was mildly irritated at Obito's habits and carefree attitude.

So, in total: nothing suggests Obito was disliked by his family, by his village or by his classmates, except for Kakashi, who was just an asshole at the time, and his assholery varies depending on what Kishimoto needs for the plot to be.

Oh, and since we are on the topic of classmates: another magical lobotomy that Kishimoto expects the readers to have is for everyone to magically assume that never ever in his entire life Obito had friends EXCEPT for Rin. And I guess Kakashi for those 2 minutes before Kakko dropped that cave on their heads. Which, again, HAS NO BASIS in what Kishimoto actually shows us. Yes, Rin was the first person to support him, but he has known other classmates for almost 10 years before Kannabi happened, yet the plot acts like there were 0 interactions between him and others, which is... not how children fucking work? I can understand Obito feeling lonely because his parents are gone, yes, but then Kishimoto slam dunks on the readers' heads that UHM AKTUALLY NO ONE FROM HIS EXTENDED FAMILY CARED FOR HIM AND UHM AKTUALLY HE HAD NO FRIENDS EXCEPT FOR THOSE IN HIS GOVERNMENT ASSIGNED TEAM AND NO ONE FROM THE VILLAGE LOVED HIM which is a lot of stuff to shove down people's throats without giving a proper reason for this. People knew that Naruto was a jinchuriki, so they stayed away from him, Sasuke was extremely traumatized by the Uchiha massacre, yet we are magically supposed to believe that Obito falls into the same category????

(also let's also mention who is responsible for Naruto's and Sasuke's loneliness... ah right, Nine-Tails crush and the Uchiha massacre, both of which were fully or partially Obito's doing🥰)

Which is why this

(chapter 616)

scene is SO fucking funny even without the whole "Obito goes full angwy babyman and starts stomping his feet and screaming YEAH LOOK AT ME LOOOOOK I AM MAD AND ANGRY AND DEPRESSED BECAUSE I HAD FRIENDS SO YOU SHOULD BE MAD ANGRY AND DEPRESSED TOO while the rest of the Alliance is scrambling to survive and grandpa Madara is chilling in the background" because no you had NO connections??? Kishimoto is desperate to peddle us that bullshit about "Rin was the only person in Obito's life (for reasons I will not be explaining because I NEED this shitty redeption arc to kick off)" and regularly manages to forget that "Connections" imply number more than one, and Obito as he is given in canon at best has TWO, 1 for Rin who is a plot device and 0.5 for Kakashi and Minato respectively. And he is insistent on "Rin was my only light yada yada"... until Kishimoto suddenly no longer needs it

(chapter 651)

As a writer I am honestly amazed at sheer bullshitery and audacity of this scene. Kishimoto literally makes the plot gaslight Obito into "Hokage comrades Konoha good Hokage comrades Konoha good Hokage comrades Konoha good". Mind you, the Hokage thing was introduced literally during the masked man reveal, Obito had NO connections to speak of with his classmates because Kishimoto was SHOVING the idea of Rin being super special to him THAT HARD, he didn't give shit about any of these people for 16 FUCKING YEARS (!), Asuma is DEAD because of the merry band of terrorist that OBITO CONTROLLED (and that's after murdering his mother), Kurenai is raising Asuma's child ALONE, and IRUKA LITERALLY DOESN'T EVEN FUCKING BELONG IN THE SAME GENERATION AS THEM???? HE BECOMES GENIN IN THE SAME YEAR NINE-TAILS ATTACKS KONOHA???? OH YEAH, OBITO ALSO MURDER IRUKA'S PARENTS WITH THE NINE-TAILS INCIDENT????? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK KISHIMOTO? WHAT IS IRUKA DOING HERE IN THIS BASTARD'S BULLSHIT FANTASY??????? ALSO IRUKA GETS THE SCAR DURING THE NINE-TAILS INCIDENT???????????? WHAT THE FUCK???????????????

Okay, I am taking deep breaths because I am feeling like I am about to lose my damn mind. But hopefully my argument about "Obito very much wants to be a complex character, but the plot has him be 1.5 dimensional one by ignoring 90% of what Obito did and does in the manga" becomes clearer. Obito's connections come and go as Kishimoto wants them, not because they organically come from the plot, and lack of said connections is never explained, which is why I honestly don't blame people for calling Obito obsessed with Rin, because Kishimoto does desperately tells us that no, Obito didn't pull these 16 years of mass murders because of Rin, there was a higher cause... but then fails to show us anything coherent outside of endless repetition of Rin, Rin, Rin

technically an outlier

And I fully agree with this, because at least that is directly stated in the manga

(chapter 240)

The only thing I think I might add to this is, I believe, during Sasuke's first flashbacks to his family, he and Itachi actually discussed the age of awakening the Sharingan, and I think they mention that 8 is about the time most people should have it? Which would indeed place Obito quite behind as he awakens it at 13, but considering the fact that it requries the user to get traumatized, is it really a bad thing? Lmao, I guess it's just teenage boys' dreams that I don't get

However, Obito never had an older mentor growing up, whereas Naruto did (that would be Iruka)

That really depends on what you consider "growing up". I can't say with exact certanty at what point Iruka became actively invested in Naruto's life (because Kishimoto kept rewriting things + this stuff is pretty vague at where I am looking for it, meaning chapter 1, Iruka is interested in Naruto's fate because both of them are orphans, so no exact indication when did it start. but. huh. I wonder who's fault for the two of them being orphans is that), but we do know that Obito graduated from the Academy at 9, meaning about 4 years he had a mentor in Minato, so his early teenage years are covered. Nothing exactly certain about the period before that, but yeah, sure, let's agree that implicitly the plot suggest a lack of mentor for Obito's childhood.

But another thing that, I believe, should be brought up, is the start of the Third Shinobi World War. I don't wanna repeat the lecture about establishing this date, but basically the beginning of it would be right around when Obito was 8, so yes, the general political situation had significantly worsened, and Obito would have probably started feeling the effects of the war enveloping the world, but Obito soon gains an older guiding figure.

Because neither of them had their families, Naruto was lucky that he had Iruka. Iruka provided that big brother figure, the mentor and in some ways a caring environment for Naruto, despite the hardships. Obito, however, did not receive any of this. 

Naruto still lived alone in the state-provided flat with mountains of trash and ate ramen with expired milk, something to this extent. This is not to mention the villagers actively shunning him for being the vessel for Nine-Tails. Obito, meanwhile, is not confirmed to have these hardships in the plot, moreover, as I have explained, a lot of the things you mentioned are assumptions that clash with what is seen in canon. Unless, of course, we are putting Obito's perspective above all, and Rin and the others cheering Kakashi and Gai fighting while ignoring Obito is literally the worst thing ever, but this is straight up offensive to Naruto's experiences.

And also while we are on this topic let's return to Naruto's talk-no-jutsu here, yeah, the same one he had after the plot magically had Naruto learn Obito's memories, specifically the ones pre-Nagato grooming, pre-Konoha destruction, pre-Kushina murder, pre-overtaking Akatsuki, pre-overtaking Kirigakure, pre-Uchiha massacre, pre-Akatsuki jinchuriki hunt, pre-Sasuke grooming, pre-Konan's murder. Which. Wow. How convenient, Kishimoto.

So Naruto here explicitly says that OMG U R JUST LIKE ME FR when it comes to the Hokage dream (that Obito gains upon the masked man reveal as far as the narrative is concerned)... only he is literally pulling this out of his ass, because, again, if Naruto was not introduced to some new memories the readers didn't see, there is nothing suggesting Naruto's claim. This entire thing hinges on readers taking the lobotomy pill and ignoring the giant extended family Obito had + the elderly in the village and not asking for an explanation as to why Obito would feel this extreme loneliness that would require latching onto Rin that strongly. I can agree with "lonely because parents gone", but beyond that this is just Naruto using the power of plot to fix Obito's worldviews.

What Obito did have, was Rin. The two have been childhood friends for a very long time. Rin gave Obito that sense of security and attachment, despite them being the same age.

This is all very lovely and dandy, but you would need to find me a scene showing them being childhood friends. For this post I have reread all chapters starting from 599 and to about 660(?) where I gave up because the conversation between defeated Obito, Kakashi and Minato was causing me to overdose on cringe. And during this entire period the only memory that anyone had of the two of them being children is that Academy arrival scene. THAT'S IT.

Then we have the team Minato introduction scene, but it's obviously after they become genins, so 9 years old. There's also this scene:

But if you check the earlier screenshots, you will actually realize that Rin is wearing the kimono that she has during the chunin exam + she has Konoha's headband, so they are already about 10 years old (at 9 they graduated the Academy, at 11 they became chunins, but Obito didn't pass this particular exam). So the kids you are claiming to be such good childhood friends with Rin being the sole pillar of emotional support for Obito have a giant 5 YEAR LONG GAP, and with Rin only living to 14 THAT IS A LOT OF TIME MISSING.

And in the other scenes Rin is already wearing her chunin get-up, so they are both 11+ years by that point. Meaning that as far as canon shows, Rin was nice to him that one time during the Academy entrance ceremony when they were, like, 4, then we HAVE NOTHING until they become team Minato, and then we have an array of very similar scenes where Obito speaks about how he's gonna become Hokage and Rin looks pretty and nods along (an incredible show of personality, Kishimoto). And then we get to Kannabi where Rin seems as about as upset as Kakashi is, even if Obito, her supposedly best friend, GOT CRUSHED ALIVE and is begging her to get his eye out of his eye socket and shove it into Kakashi's still untreated wound. And Kakashi, as we know, didn't get along really well with Obito until like 15 minutes ago.

But then Rin does the single most psychotic thing imaginable: Obito gets finally crushed, her supposed best friend's body turns into tomato paste that they can't even pick up and will have to leave him behind on the enemy territory, and as Kakashi explains how Obito loved Rin and died for her, the girl opens her MOUTH AND STARTS CONFESSING TO KAKASHI.

DARLING CAN YOU WAIT LITERALLY LIKE 5 MINUTES BEFORE ANNOUNCING THAT? ZETSUS DRAGGING AWAY OBITO'S HALF-DEAD BODY CAN PROBABLY HEAR YOU THROUGH THE ROCKS. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, HE JUST DIED!

And, I understand, in Kishimoto's mind this is all probably very romantic and tragic, but to me this is just another example of Rin's character flipfloping between the cutesy innocent girl in team Minato and the single biggest psychopath known to Konoha in her generation and this is only because Obito's turn to dark side happened outside of Konoha.

So, in total: one interaction as children, numerous interactions in team Minato, but it's literally the same one with them doing the same things, and then the Kannabi bridge. I am sorry, but this is one of the worst executions of childhood friends I have ever seen, if they are supposed to be that way. And on THIS + Rin's flipfloping character that gains and loses cutesy girl characteristics depending on Kishimoto's mood is on what Obito's entire fucking arc hinges. Obito who would be by far the most prolific war criminal in the last 20 or so years of shinobi history😁

One final thing before moving on: it's actually the pictures that you mention later in your post

I don't really care if Obito is here trying to kiss a picture, he's a young boy, he does silly things. What I wanna point out is the pictures that Obito has, because to me they are VERY telling.

Kishimoto shows us 0 photos of Rin and Obito together, you know, the supposed childhood friends. The picture that he is trying to kiss is the one that they took as team Minato at 9 years old. He has a picture of his parents (thank god for Obito's mama cuz dad is giving 0 pretty genes lol), and then he has a bunch of Rin pictures, but the angle on them all is just off, like he is sneaking photos of her from far away, or when she doesn't expect that, or as if he is sitting in the bushes. All of them indicate very little closeness, like they haven't been, you know, childhood friends for years and did things together. Kishimoto gives them practically no mementos that would indicate that degree of closeness that the whole "RIN WAS MY SOLE LIGHT" thing is trying to convey, but god does he not save up on the scenes of Rin putting bandages on Obito.

Obito’s love for Rin transcended romance. Of course the romance was the overt part, but his love for her was his sense of security. She was his safe space. When a child grows up without love or care from a parenting figure or a mentor, they will find ways to cope and latch onto the closest thing they can find safety and comfort in. Rin took on this role. So when Rin was killed before him, naturally there would be a sense of deep despair and anger.

I will not be adressing the first half of this, because I believe I have made it very clear that Obito's attachement issues are very overblown with what is given within canon (unless, of course, we go into the whole Uchiha love/hate/curse bullshit, but to me it's Kishimoto's favorite crutch to fall on whenever the plot demands to know why the fuck is everyone tolerating Uchiha #13 yapping and doesn't call them out on their bullshit) and his friendship with Rin is shown very weakly, to the point I would say most of it is left to readers' imagination. That's wonderful that you found a ship that has this sort of transcended love vibe, but what I see is two characters literally strung together by the author for no other reason because mangaka needs that drama, one of these characters barely qualifies for a character and is moreso a plot device, while the other one COMMITS SO many crimes the whole "she was my light" bitching and moaning can go into the trash pile along with the man saying these things, because hundreds of thousands are dead for the delusions of this one guy.

What I do wanna talk about is Rin's death, because GOD this shit drives me mad for numerous reasons.

Firstly, let's insert Kakashi into the conversation, because Kishimoto twists himself into a pretzel just to somehow both justify Obito's turn to the dark side and Kakashi not being an utter piece of shit that kills his friends for the mission (because Kakashi is a fan favorite I guess and making him fully responsible for that murder is a step too far). This pretzel is so lovely that it actually creates TWO versions of events in Obito as a witness and Kishimoto... does absolutely nothing with the change in Obito's perspective. Which is absolute insanity.

So, we turn off our omnipotence as readers, and sit inside Obito's mind as he sets off for Kakashi and Rin surrounded by Kirigakure shinobi in 603 (this is the only information he has). The Zetsus later mention some experiment of Kiri, Minato being on a different mission, etc, etc. Obito doesn't understand the full context, cuz he's running for his life, and at that point he does witness Rin's last moments through Kakashi's eye

(chapter 604)

Huh, what an interesting expression Kishimoto chooses. Something in between betrayal, confusion and fear. Well, it wiil certainly correspond to what is actually going on, right? Right?

So Obito finally runs into the clearing and sees

Rin, standing still, looking scared and betrayed, while Kakashi pierces her heart, crying.

And so, Kishimoto in chapter 604 creates a pretty clear narrative: Kakashi and Rin were surrounded on a mission with Minato away, and, instead of protecting Rin like he promised Obito, Kakashi chose to put the mission above his teammate and killed Rin.

By chapter 605 Obito is already commiting the massacre of Kiri ninjas, who scream something about the importance of Rin's corpse, but ultimately no further context is given, so nothing much changes in Obito had witnessed on that day.

Wow, what a terrible thing to happen! Of course Obito would break and realize how terrible the system and by extention the world is, with Rin being killed for... oh wait, there's more?

And almost 25 FUCKING CHAPTER LATER we suddenly discover THAT THIS IS NOT AT ALL WHAT HAPPENED. And is it Kakashi who tells us his side of story? NO, OF FUCKING COURSE NOT, IT'S OBITO WHO DOES THIS. OBITO WHO'S ENTIRE FUCKING CHARACTER HINGES ON THIS ONE SCENE.

Rin did WHAT and was WHAT?

(I will not go into detail how Isobu being sealed in Rin COMPLETELY fucks over Blood Mist's timeline, that's a whole other separate rant)

So, A MASSIVE CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE FOR OBITO: Rin chose this fate, Kakashi was doing everything in his power to prevent this, Rin somehow managed to gain enough speed and agility to overcome Kakashi's reflexes and THE FUCKING SHARINGAN to throw herself onto Kakashi's arm (yes, the very same girl who got abducted TWICE. I did mention her abilities flipflop depending on Kishimoto's mood), and Rin's death had a very certain meaning - to protect Konoha from being destroyed by a Tailed Beast.

(I also really love how Rin in 629 absolutely can not end up in the same pose she did in 604, thank you Kishimoto for your cheap manipulations)

So... this is a massive thing to happen. So how does Obito react to this upon learning? When does he learn this? How does this happen?

LOL. LMAO. FUCK YOU READER. (c) Kishimoto

Because it's just randomly shoved into the plot and ignored for the rest of the series, regardless of how it completely flips the relationships between team Minato, particularly with Kakashi no longer being an unfeeling traitor but rather someone who ended up in utterly terrible circumstances that he could not prevent and Rin... continuing her psychotic streak of "oh, Obito died? better confess Kakashi right above his still warm body" with "huh, I can't end myself, and I pose a danger to the village... well, I will certainly not entertain the possibility of finding my sensei's wife who knows all the most powerful sealing jutsu to keep the thing inside me in control, so suicide it is, and of course I won't go for any of the armed Kiri guys following us, I will do it using Kakashi, the boy I love. I am sure he will enjoy the image of me bleeding out on his arm for the rest of his life, especially with that promise that he gave to Obito". Another important thing that we learn that Rin REALLY loved her village, to the point of being ready to die for it.

And I will say what I think about this - you can not try to push the "cute innocent baby girl" narrative with SUCH a heavy decision done. This requires a lot a mental fortitude of someone much older and competent than the pure innocent light that Kishimoto tries to later portray her as.

But coming to the second point I wished to discuss and it is how Obito's entire interaction with the whole shinobi system completely crumbles with the change in these events, because the first version does show how messed up it is - Kakashi choosing the mission over a comrade, Rin's life being just a simple burden to the system, etc etc. But the second version of events OFFERS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING in regards to Obito's understanding of how wrong the system they are living is (contrary to LITERALLY any other antagonist in the series). Because Rin's death in the second version is a terrorist attack that Rin herself decides to prevent. You can have the most wonderful and humane system imaginable, with free healthcare, children being allowed to be children until growing into adutls, elections etc etc, and it would still not guarantee that people with nasty intentions from using power to inflict pain on innocents. And anybody could have ended up in Rin's place, if we are under assumption that Kiri simply wants to demolish Konoha with Isobu. The worst that could be extracted from this version of events is that Kakashi and Rin had to end up in this situation at all without adult supervision (which is moreso to Kakashi's part, because Rin in this scenario is just a bystander who got abducted to be used as a living bomb, and anyone from a cat to a granny could have been in her place), and Rin at 14 being able to make the decision to end her life for the sake of the village, but again this is also motivated by the actual danger she presents to the people around her.

All of the above is probably a good explanation as for why throught the entirety of 599 to 660s Obito can not formulate A SINGULAR good argument for the Eye of the Moon that would show the horror of the shinobi system except for "PEOPLE DIE - SAD", "PEOPLE BETRAY ALWAYS - ANGRY" and last but not least "YOU WILL BE JUST LIKE ME, GIVE ME A SECOND TO MURDER ANOTHER DOZEN OF YOUR COMRADES". I shit you not, the guy who was the one behind Blood Mist, witnessed the fate of Amegakure, was part of the Uchiha massacre, collected and personally knew members of Akatsuki, had been this amazing strategist and manipulator for the last 16 years CAN NOT say anything that wouldn't be about him being mad about Rin dying and how everyone's gonna be just like him fr.

The closest he ever gets to this is soon after Neji's death, remembering this wonderful thing called the cursed seal that the main branch of Hyuga would place on its cadet branch members regardless of their age whenever the current heir of the clan would turn 3, and this seal can also be used to inflict pain on the bearers by the people of the main branch. So essentially Konoha has a literal enslaving practices. Wonderful job, Hashirama. Well, what will our Savior and awesome guy will tell us about this practice?

Ah, he completely missed the point of why enslaving your relatives is bad. AND he is using it as a shitty Twitter-level gotcha that would sound like "LITERALLY 1984!!!1!" without ever bothering to read the book. God canon Obito you're such a loser.

Which is why I really can just barely chuckle whenever I remember that as the apocalypse is unfolding, hundreds of thousands are dead, and Obito gives up on the plan of his life after Naruto talks-no-jutsus him twice, Madara dunks on this entire comedy opera and reveals that HEY IT WAS ACTUALLY ME BEHIND RIN'S DEATH! and most of Obito's post reveal yapping goes completely null because it wasn't the system's evil (the faults of which he is never shown to understand), it wasn't this world's evil, it was Madara's evil that killed Rin😁

And that's overall a good commentary on the final state of the affairs in Fourth Shinobi World War - the majority of people aren't suffering because the system, the majority of people are dying because there's two Uchiha assholes with their convoluted bullshit that are killing people en-masse for their delusions, one of which was dead for the last 16 years, so yeah, Obito ain't running away from the things he commited with "boo hoo Rin was my sole light" which is immediatelly followed by this

WHICH IS THE ONLY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT HE GIVES OF 16 YEARS THAT INVOLVED DEMOLISHING KONOHA THAT KILLED HUNDREDS, THE ENTIRE AKATSUKI THING THAT ENDED UP WITH ALL MEMBERS DEAD AND LIKELY THOUSANDS OF SHINOBI AND CIVILIANS MURDERED WHILE THE ORGANIZATION WAS ACTIVE, THE BLOOD FUCKING MIST THAT HAD KIDDIE MURDER EXAMS, DEATH SQUADS AND EVEN MASSACRES OF WIELDERS OF KEKKAI GENKAI, THE MASS MURDER OF HIS OWN CLAN, AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST THIS ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD WAR WHERE HALF OF THE ALLIANCE IS ALREADY DEAD, SO WE ARE SPEAKING ABOUT 50K CASUALTIES AT LEAST

buuuuuuuuut Riiiiiiiiiin waaaaaaas myyyyyyyy soleeeeeee liiiiight😭😭😭

(also I suppose this is how Kishimoto deals with the whole "so hey at what point does Obito actually see the problems of shinobi system" thing, which is. hilarious. a tiny panel with a moon on the background.)

Okay, rambling over, let's return to the original post

A lot of people would say: “but he had Minato,” “he had Kakashi,” “he had Kushina.”

I find it a bit weird that you chose to exclude Obito's grandmother for being a filler and an anime-original character, but included Kushina here, because I do not remember a single instance of her interacting with Team Minato that happened in the manga and not in anime/video games

but they only came into his life for a short period of time. Their interactions were not on an intense level as it was with he and Rin.

Minato was in Obito's life for 4 years as we previously established, which is a pretty big thing for Obito's total 14 year old lifespan. And I am still not sure of what interactions that Rin and Obito shared that weren't "she held his hand, put a bandage over his cut and said with a serious tone that he shouldn't hide his wounds". Like, it would have been funny and cute if we were talking about 13 year old Obito, but with corpses pilied up, half of the world destroyed and 30 year old Obito? Please give me something better than a placeholder cutscene, I am begging you.

And again, very little indication of their interactions outside of team Minato, so question mark to the whole "long period of time"

Naruto however, had Iruka, who most likely taught him a lot of things about the importance of the village, the importance of camaraderie, friendship

But... Naruto is learning it over the time we witness him in the plot. And it happens while we watch him at 12. So I am not sure where the "Iruka taught him" argument is coming from.

And Obito was certainly aware of the importantce of the village considering HOW MUCH dialogue is spent on him declaring how he is gonna become a Hokage. If he missed that point while having that dream, I can't even say anything. Also, Obito from 8 to 13 was in a militaristic settlement that was in the middle of a World War, I'm pretty sure their education wasn focusing on working up that patriotism in the kids that would soon go to the trenches.

Naruto had his fair share of trauma but he had support that allowed for some resiliency.

Gosh golly I wonder who was responsible for all that trau-- I am sorry, I will stop, you get the point.

And also, no. Kakashi was in his depression arc and didn't interact with Naruto until becoming his sensei, Jiraya was out there somewhere shitfaced and probably collecting intelligence for Konoha, Hiruzen was just creepily watching him through his magic ball without Naruto's knowledge, and with Iruka it's unclear at what point did he start feeding Naruto and chatting with him outside of classroom, and even if that started as soon as supposedly Rin and Obito became friends, Naruto still was being shunned by the majority of village and starts having proper friends only during the plot, so 12 years old and onwards.

(and, again, there is no reason for Obito to be left stranded by the rest of the society, nothing written by Kishimoto ever indicates this)

Psychological intermeshment stems from traumatic upbringing in childhood (lack of nurturance from an adult caregiver, abandonment etc), and then again from losing their sense of security/safety (Rin in this case).

I like your point, and it is kind of something of a new thing to me, but again, the entire scenario of Obito's abandonment and latching onto Rin is hinging on the reader making the decision to remove that part of brain that considers these characters somewhere other than the vacuum. It is plain and simple bad writing. I really wish I could agree with your point, but it would mean ignoring almost everything that Kishimoto showed (and I am sure that he was desperate to tell us something along your lines, but he utterly failed in that regard).

So he did what he could to get that sense of security back, even if what he did was questionable.

EXCUSE ME? QUESTIONABLE? QUESTIONABLE???

Several months after Rin's death, Obito kills hundreds in his own village for no apparent reason because the action brings his plan no benefit. Does that mean getting back the security? Obito also kills the mother of his own classmate, never showing regret for it, before proceeding to put a kunai against a newborns throat and booby trapping him. Was he getting back the security this way? Obito also manipulates the leaders of original Akatsuki into doing his bidding and when the plan doesn't work, gosh golly one of them dies in an internal strife, which seems just so terribly convenient for him. Is being a manipulative and lying bastard part of his security blanket? He then also proceeds to put the Fourth Mizukage under his genjutsu and what followed was one the most brutal regimes shinobi world ever knew. Did he felt safe and happy becoming the reason for an entire village's and likely country's suffering? Said regime also included mandatory battles between children of Academy age, so 8-10 years old, and death squads that would kill anyone attempting to desert said regime, and the only profit that Obito got for his plan from this entire affair was Kisame joining Akatsuki. Well, surely, that seems like a mildly questionable thing to get his sense of security back, hm?

I am not even gonna bothering continuing, but I can make this paragraph twice as large without much trouble. Obito was not simply doing questionable things, he was an absolute genocidal maniac, and very much had a tendency for opportunistic murder, and a lot of the things he did have no explained or apparent reason.

Then you have the complexity of the curse of hatred that intertwines the storyline, which make things even more complicated. But this curse was what pushed the storyline and placed Obito as an antagonist.

As I have already stated, a cheap copout from Kishimoto to not bother himself with writing anything more complicated than a story for first graders

He did not start a war because of a girl. He started a war because he was angry with the way the world functioned. How the countless wars kept ending lives and taking loved ones away from people. He did not want people to go through what he went through.

LMAO. So, obviously, yes, the favorite argument provided with Kishimoto's own heavy-handed writing: "I did not start a war over a girl. I will only mention her fifty times. And think of only her whevener something major will happen to me. Fuck those people that I met over the last 16 years and who ended up dead because of my actions or my plan. They don't matter, only the people I spoke with when I was 13 do. And I will not be able to provide anything of substance whenever an opportunity to talk about the faults of the system will arise. Just general throwing hands in the air and dramatic mumbling about despair."

And rereading the manga, it is actually apparent that he can't produce anything about the shinobi system (because Kishimoto never ended up giving him a moment to understand this, duh), so he consistenly attacks the world for things like people dying in general, which, if you ask me, is the point where any and all discussion with Obito should have ended, because he is clearly absolutely delusional and, similarly to the war that HE started, it is a conflict between the humanity as it is surviving or this guy's delusions entrapping everyone.

How the countless wars kept ending lives and taking loved ones away from people. He did not want people to go through what he went through.

Damn, nothing says "I hate wars" like creating and controlling an international terrorist organization that specializes on taking the war business and spends YEARS doing random side-quests for money when your own plan has zero need for money, so you pretty much allow these bloodthirsty assholes to run amock. Nothing says "I hate wars" like sending said assholes into highly-populated areas to catch the jinchuriki when you are shown repeatedly to have the abilities to do so quickly and effiently, but nope, let's nuke Sunagakure, because "I hate wars". "I do not want people to go through what I went through", so I am going to have 8 year old children battle each other to death in the village where I took control, and if anyone tries to run away from that, I will have a death squad ready. Wow, I was so lonely as I child, but don't worry, little Uchiha, I am going to stab you and your family tonight, because I do not want you to go through what I went through. Oh, Sasuke-kun, hope you enjoy your new spacious home!

In essence, this mindset has villain written all over it, but it also compels a strong backstory for Obito because of his complex childhood upbringing and the trauma he experienced.

Trauma? Yes. Complex childhood upbringing? Maybe in some fanfiction, the canon is lackluster and has all the complexity of a third grader's math problem.

But people need to remember that he had a father who provided that nurturing environment for him. Even if his father died in tragic circumstances, Kakashi, though traumatised, was able to bounce back and push forward with the support of his friends and village.

These are not simply tragic circumstances, that's an 8 year old walking into his home and finding his father after he commited suicide. Your point about adult figures is a bit more appropriate this time with Kakashi, in my opinion, because Sakumo would kill himself when Kakashi was 8, and team Minato wouldn't become a team until Obito's and Rin's graduation when they were 9, so Kakashi ended up kind of being passed down from Sakumo and Minato. It still doesn't mean that it somehow alleviated Kakashi's condition, because we still see him holding onto these rigorous anti-Sakumo ideals during Kannabi bridge, all of which culminated in Obito's "death", so I am not exactly sure at what point the "bounce back" happens, because things get only worse for him with Rin and Minato getting killed. I don't even think Kishimoto actually shows us Kakashi getting back to it, all of it is coming from external sources that aren't written by Kishimoto? Kakashi just kinda loses everything and then we see him still staying alive and not following the allure of his dad's path. Kakashi has a lot of generic talk about friendship and comraderie, but I can't remember what exactly brought him back from losing everything that was related to his team? So he's a weird example to compare Obito against.

It all comes back to childhood upbringing and the presence of an adult caregiver/mentor.

And in example with Kakashi the adult mentor is also killed the second time and Kakashi loses everything. Again being saved by off-screen camraderie and power of friendship, and also general desire to continue spreading Obito's ideals. So, still a weird example.

That, and then again, the presence of the curse of hatred (which was why Sasuke was pretty fucked up despite coming from a loving family). 

Curse of hatred is lazy bullshit and Sasuke was not fucking fine because one wonderful evening he stumbled upon his entire family massacred, then got tortured by his beloved brother after witnessing him kill their parents, and then he had to alive alone in the very same compound where his entire family was killed, and then his brother returned and tortured him again, now sending him into a coma. That's just some of the few things that come to mind when it comes to Sasuke being fucked up.

This is the reason why I do not ship Obito x Kakashi. To me there was no love, care and nurturing between those two. Obito “died” not long after being friendly with Kakashi, so that wouldn’t warrant a ship between those two. Whereas with Rin, it is a different story.

I don't particularly enjoy Obikaka either, but I can understand why people would ship it (unlike canon Obirin canon Obikaka at least has two characters interacting), however again this comes from a lot of stretching of canon to the limit. You have correctly stated that there was no proper friendship shared between the two of them (which I see Obikaka shippers debating), Kakashi is practically bullying him during Kannabi bridge mission, and when they finally did see eye to eye (BADUMS) it was like 5 minutes before Kakko dropped the cave on their heads. But what is fascinating between the two is what they symbolize to each other (and no, regardless of what Kishimoto is peddaling, I don't believe in any deep friendship and understanding between them during Fourth Shinobi World War, they are grown ass men who have lived with their plans and ideals for far too long + they haven't spoken to each other in 17 years), because Kakashi changes his entire life to accomodate Obito's habits (being later and such), Kakashi, in a sense, attempts to live out the life that Obito never got to live. And Obito... well, Obito's writing all over the place, so really this guy's interpretation is in the eye of the beholder and how much they are willing to ignore canon.

And like I said, just because of all this crap Obito’s been through, it does not excuse what he did or make what he did right (he was a villain after all).

One, it literally doesn't provide him with enough motivation for half of the deaths he had caused. Two, yes, the plot absolutely excuses him in the most ridiculous of ways, because poow baby boi upset that Rin dead. Don't mind poow baby boi using about a 100 opportunities to kill people when it went against his supposed morals and there was absolutely no profit to be made for Eye of the Moon, Naruto saw 30 year old poow baby boi being sad and dreaming of becoming Hokage when he was 10, he certainly deserves redemption arc.

And thank you for reminding that that post-Obito death scene exists, my night is absolutely ruined because now I remembered this "How to never write a female character" scene, with Rin finally rejecting her premise as a character and embracing her role as a plot function, and in this scene she fulfills a role that all male character dream of - a consolation prize for Obito who sent countless people to their deaths, brought about the apocalypse and got around to fixing it about two seconds away from midnight on the doomsday clock. But hey, at least he tried his best doing all of that!

now onto @makimahinalno points

What these two had was very unique and rare, and I cannot explain how much it irks me when people degrade and simplify it as "obsessive" when it isn't.

The uniqueness and rarity of these two stems from the fact of how absolutely half-baked their relationship is, how Rin's charactertics and worldview (which we don't get at all until that flashback when they are chunins and Rin says flat out that she wants the war to stop, which I guess indicates something common between the two, but also shows her not being a particular death enjoyer?) keep changing whenever Kishimoto needs them to ("I watched everything and you did your best" says she to a guy who demolished a village that she died to protect. Actually, two times, if we include the Pain attack. Oh, and the boy she loved aka Kakashi also got killed during that attack) and how Obito's 16 years of life post Rin's death had so much opportunistic murder that can not be excused or even motivated by any of his endless meanderings about hopelessness and such. I am sure that Kishimoto intended for this to be some sort of higher form of love, but with what he ended up writing Obito being responsible for, Kishimoto's own inability to properly handle the horrific nature of Obito's acts and, frankly, Rin's character remaining somewhere at placeholder female character level, every single time he mentions or has a flashback to her (and that happens A LOT) that really makes one realizes that either the character or the managaka are completely insane. But probably both. Which is where "obsessive" comes from, because Obito conveniently does not acquire any other significant relationships for half of his life, leaving him sounding like a broken record about Rin.

When Obito remembers Rin, when we see her face, we are supposed to think about innocence itself.

That's awesome, but making an executive decision to kill yourself using your crush's fist to prevent the village from being sent into past tense is not innocence. Being capable of taking out a dying boy's eye and transplanting into a wound of another boy while standing in the middle of some half-destroyed cave with no tools specifically prepared for that and neither of the boys dying is not innocence. If Kishimoto wished her character to be about innocence, he should have not made her an experienced shinobi (at times, of course whenever he needs her Rin becomes as incompenent as a child).

She is the symbol of it, she represents all kids in the world who deserve to play on a playground, be well fed and not have to worry whether they are going to survive to see the next morning or not.

Damn, and Obito really internalizes those ideals, doesn't he? Or does he become the head of regime that had exams for Academy students that required them to kill each other? The exam that got cancelled because little Zabuza has found a cheat code and killed a 100 children of that graduation class? The regime that had a specialized ANBU department that was solely responsible for people escaping this regime, likely including the very children that didn't want to kill their fellow little friends and not worry if the are going to see the next morning? The regime that had massacres of people possessing Kekkei Genkai that it did nothing about? And after Obito was done with that regime, surely Akatsuki did not recruit a 13 year old and a 12 year old almost consequitevely? He surely gave them warm homes, carefree education and uneventful lives? He surely did not pair them with fellow mentally ill nukenins and send them to complete missions for his terroristic band, with their faces plastered in all bingo books with a handsome reward next to them?

Again, I would love to believe into this idea of "innocence" that Obito so cherished and Rin seemed to possess, but unfortunately the only thing I get is three same scenes of Rin and Obito doing the same thing again and again + Obito's vague and meaningless meandering + none of Obito's actual messed-up shit being ever adressed in favor of the things above. I am sure Kishimoto oh so wanted this deep transcendent love and innocence incarnate, but you can't get rid of 600 chapters worth of questions by replacing all answers with "SHE WAS HIS SOLE LIGHT😭😭😭😭😭😭😭" Kishimoto created a character far too heavy that he could and wanted to manage, so Obito falls flat with Rin as the anchor that drowns him in his own lore.

I... won't be adressing the rest of your post🤣🤣🤣🤣you should write poetry, I love your flowery descriptions. I think I've made my case clear about how this particular interpretation of Obirin requires one to use their imagination instead of relying on canon material and preferably forgetting about the other big chunk

Anyway, that's about it. Thanks if you managed to read to this point, I am honestly surprised and congratulate you. I have been wanting to make a big post containing most of my issues with Obito's writing in canon, and these posts made me stay up throught two nights as I was rereading manga and writing this post itself.

And remember, kids, ship whoever your want, tag your stuff appropriately, and don't try to get into the depths of Naruto canon, or you'll end up in this wormhole just like I did. With Kishimoto at the helm, nobody is a winner.

Sending cheers to the authors of original posts!

(and yes if you are wondering why I stopped attaching pictures to the post past a certain point - I hit the limit on them and was far too lazy to separate them into several posts. I might make a separate post with other screenshots of the manga that I have where Kishimoto reaches absolutely insane levels of reader gaslighting, I was honestly torn apart by my desire to fall asleep while rereading this part of the manga and giggling like insane because some of the shit characters say is absolutelt comical in its absurdity. God I really have a love-hate relationship with Naruto's last 100 chapters, don't I. Anyway, I gotta crash, I have an exam in two days and I did not sleep for two days.)

[cielwritings]

If it's okay could you do something with yandere! Ciel and yandere! Sebastian x timid reader who develops stockholm syndrome? 👀 There would be no escaping them theyre too powerful rip.

! Yandere!Sebaciel x Reader !

say less :p

tw: mental abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse, neglect

Ciel and Sebastian were both partners before you came around, but when you did, something clicked inside the two of them. They didn’t need to verbally express it. All it needed was a mutual look in the eye to know what each other wanted.

Ciel being a yandere is troubling, but both? You’re in for a ride.

They’re two different yanderes. Sebastian likes to tend to you, keeping you as safe as possible. Ciel likes to mark you, to make you his territory.

Sometimes Ciel will go over the top. Of course he won’t do things you explicitly tell him no to. Though if he can, he’ll bruise you, bite you, or write on you with permanent marker.

Sebastian treats you like you’re his master/mistress, except, times 10.

..This scares you. A lot. You can’t go anywhere with the feeling of Sebastian lurking over your shoulder. Ciel’s presence is threatening, you have to walk on eggshells with him.

And at the end of the day, you couldn’t bring yourself to entertain them. It just lead you to be punished.

Sebastian’s punishments are emotional anguish. He’s the most caring, so you’re drawn to him more than Ciel. Admittedly, you don’t mind the way he tends to you. It’s the way he does it. So when he randomly stops tending to you snd gets Ciel to do it, you panic.

This continues until you beg for him to keep going. Even then, he won’t continue if you don’t say you’re sorry.

Ciel’s can be physical and mental, albeit not straight up punching you, he will make you constantly feel uncomfortable. Being a bit too close, wearing textures you find unpleasant, and wearing clothes colored to make your eyes sore.

One of Ciel’s punishments, he had you on your knees in front of him. He was slowly stroking your cheek, breathing softly through his mouth. He was close enough that you felt the heat on you, and it made you quite uncomfortable.. especially with how close his thumbs were to your eyes.

The moment you began to fall in love, was the moment you broke. It was the same night Sebastian found you trying to escape the manor.

“Whatever do you think you’re doing?” he states, tray to his hip. “My, my..”

He ordered you to sit on the couch, being guarded by Baldroy. He told Ciel what had happened, and they both agreed on a punishment.

You were in an old room the household rarely ever touched. It was completely cleared out, perhaps originally going to be used for storage or a guest room. They sat you in there. There was nothing to do.

You sat in there for who knows how long. None of them told you an exact timeframe. Though, Ciel said it was between a few days and two weeks.

The only way you survived was being given water and plain food. White bread with unsalted, dehydrating crackers. The way they gave it to you? They waited until you were passed out from exhaustion to put it in the room. Even the plate and utensils were bland.

They wanted you to have as little stimuli as possible.

Ciel was delivering your food one day, but you weren’t completely passed out. You were spread out on the floor, eyes just barely open, facing the door. He placed the food and drink down, then sighed through his nose. Even waking you up with noises was something they couldn’t have.

You noticed that there were extra portions this time, something out of character for Ciel. He probably missed you.

Just barely, you croaked out a ‘thank you’ and a ‘you’re kind’.

Even in this situation.. you thought he was kind?

Ciel called off the punishment and had you in his arms those same ten minutes. Somehow, that was the weirdest part of all of this. Being neglected stimuli for potentially weeks and then suddenly feeling warmth and comfort…

It took you a while to get back to your old self. You were still nervous around them, but you noticed more about them. Whenever Sebastian looked at you, his eyes would momentarily light up with love.

Whenever you looked at Ciel, his jaw would unclench, and his shoulders would relax. Something about knowing these facts comforted you. They had their guard down around you, so why shouldn’t yours be?

Sebastian was the first you kissed. He was bathing you, asking for permission to touch your chest or groin. You gave him a kiss mid question, right on the cheek.

“You don’t have to ask to touch when you bathe me..” you mumble. “If you don’t get spots, they’ll be dirty and infected..”

He was in shock, though softly chuckled at your words and nodded. “You’re very right.”

Ciel was more forceful. Not in a mean way, but when he heard you kiss Sebastian, he grabbed your cheeks and kissed your lips.

“That bastard better have not taken your first kiss. Did he?” “…N-No..” “Good. You’re mine. Stay in this room with me until I excuse you.”

You sat on his lap the whole time.

[dullgecko]

Do you think the Bad Kids ever argue over pizza toppings?

Here's my take:

I know Fabian would probably want kippers on his.

Fig likes hers extra spicy with pineapple (she is the arch devil of rebellion)

Riz would be very methodical, trying to get the best pizza for the best price

Kristen and Adaine probably never had pizza before meeting the Bad Kids so experimented. Kristen now goes for a protein rich pizza and Adaine likes the more fancy pizzas with pesto or white sauce instead of tomato

Gorgug is ok with most toppings, but prefers plain cheese

They dont have kippers at the pizza place but they do have anchovies which are close enough. All of the bad kids say Fabians pizza smells awful so he usually gets an entire pizza for himself so it doesnt contaminate everyone elses. (Riz is mostly just playing along with the group joke, will share Fabians pizza if they're hanging out alone)

Riz gets the meatlovers, the one thats always on special and usually comes with a side of garlic bread and a drink. Can easily devour three WITH all the sides in one go if he's in the mood to eat. If he's not super hungry he'll split a large pizza with Kristen. Sometimes they'll get extra toppings like mushrooms or olives to make it feel like they're getting a vegetable in their diet.

Figs pizza choices are as bad as Fabians, she will get it as spicy as possible to the point that only herself and Riz can eat it (Riz only because he straight up cant taste capsacian so he doesnt get the spicy sensation). Riz will still pick the pineapple off and flick them onto Figs slices though. Something about fruit on pizza doesnt seem right to him. While she isn't able to order it from the pizza place she HAS made homemade dessert pizza before. An unholy mix of chocolate, cookie crumbs and marshmallows.... that was actually pretty good. Tasted like a smore.

Adaines are very fancy, but also very expensive. She doesnt eat very large meals though so a single one of her pizzas can be reheated as leftovers for at least 3 meals (she heats them up in the frypan so the bottoms stay crispy).

Gorgug is also Riz's pizza buddy, if Kristen feels like getting something different he'll share whatever Riz is having when the goblins not super hungry. Loves his cheeze pizza but will also get the vegetarian pizza with as many vegetables as they can fit.

[halfmoth-halfman]

the willow maid

Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!Reader Word Count: 5.2k Warnings: implied smut, blood, death, loss, bittersweet ending Prompt: Fairytale!AU & “It was the biggest mistake I ever made.” & the song, the willow maid by erutan Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. A/N: here it is!!! the final fic for @glitterypirateduck’s GazFest 2023!! i hope you guys had as much fun with gazfest as i did!!! and thank you to the amazing glitterypirateduck for putting it all together!!!!! 💜

The tavern is nestled on the far edge of town, a barely held-together building run by an even more decrepit barkeep. Half resting on the edge of the forest, half consumed by the rich greenery, vines and roots split through the walls and upend the cracking cobblestones around it. The windows are covered in a layer of dust, door hanging on by a single bolt, entrance covered in years of muddy boot prints. Every imperfection is only amplified under the light of the early morning sun.

They’re given bread while they wait, circled around the lopsided table pressed up against the clean window, and MacTavish is the only one brave enough to try it. It’s good, if a bit off in a way he can’t fully describe; it’s sweet and light, but there’s a bitterness lurking on his tongue when he swallows.

The ale arrives and, with it, their long-awaited companion. 

He’s quiet, Simon notices. There are only two other people in this tavern, a shifty-eyed child with no shoes and fidgeting hands and a cloaked figure lying with their head on the bar, but Simon hadn’t seen their newfound friend approach. It sets him on edge, more than usual.

(It had been MacTavish who found him, bursting into the inn they'd been staying at with a wide grin and a piece of torn parchment. 

“Got a lead on the flower,” he’d said, handing Price the scrap to let him examine the hastily drawn map. “Met a man who claimed t’ have seen th’ bloom himself. Said to meet him there in three days’ time, jus’ after sunrise.”

Price had been skeptical, but it’d been weeks since their last lead dried up, and their gold was beginning to run low.. Desperate times, and all that.)

MacTavish told them everything he knew about his mysterious contact, but they hadn’t expected him to be so young. 

Barely a year older than MacTavish, the man sits across from them with a polite smile and his hands clasped on the table where everyone can see them. 

Everything about him is dark. His skin, his hair, his eyes. Even his cloak is a deep plum material, unpatterned and plain.

There’s nothing particularly special about him at first glance, but they know something’s not quite right about this man.

He’s too…clean, too put together. There’s no mud on his boots, no signs of hardship or travel, and his clothes are too purposefully plain despite the high quality of the stitching. His movements are too practiced, too elegant, as he takes a slice of bread and fills his cup with manners befitting someone of a far higher station. There’s not a mark or scratch on him, save for the single scratch across is left cheek. 

This man is not what he seems.

“Your friend tells me you’re looking for the Willow’s Wail,” the man speaks, polished, measured, curious.

The three straighten at the mention of the flower. 

It was supposed to be a myth, an old wives tale to tell your children when you put them to sleep. A story about a powerful Fae and a cunning boy who outfoxed her, obtaining a single seed from her garden as a reward. 

But the boy, in his excitement at besting the Fair Fae, didn’t notice he’d dropped the seed just before leaving the fae realm. When the boy finally realized and returned to retrieve it, it was too late. The seed had fallen on the wrong side of the barrier between his world and theirs and he was forced to watch it grow until it bloomed a beautiful, glowing white. 

The boy had one night to admire its beauty before its petals began to fall and the flower wilted. The wind carried the drifting petals, spreading them far and wide to bloom across the mortal realm. The boy was lucky enough to catch one, and it was said that the magic from that single petal granted the boy his heart's desire.

There were countless names for it. 

Moondrop. Angel’s Kiss. Ghostheart. Star Rose.

It changed over the centuries, varying region by region, along with the story, but the details stayed the same.

A glowing, white flower that blooms for one night with enough potent magic in a single petal to keep you safe and sated for the rest of your life.

So many had claimed to have seen it, to have picked an entire bloom and reveled in its sweet scent. How many of the rich and mighty claimed to have one hidden in their vaults? How many urchins kept themselves going with the hope of one day finding a bloom, and pulling themselves from poverty? 

How many rumors had their own merry little group chased, claiming to know where to find a moondrop or angel’s kiss or ghostheart?

Though, Simon’s never heard someone refer to it as the Willow’s Wail before. 

“You know where to find one, I take it?” Price asks. The man nods through a mouthful of bread, taking a sip of the spiced honey ale before he answers.

“Not just where to find it,” he hums, picking at the crust of his bread. “I know how to grow one.”

That’s new.

There have been plenty who claimed to have found a petal. Even some who’ve said they’ve made their own deal with the Fae from the story.

But there’s never been someone who claimed to have a seed before.

The man says it so casually, Simon is almost inclined to believe him. 

“S’pose ye’ll be wantin’ a trade for it?” MacTavish chuckles, already bracing himself for what will either be an absurd amount of coin or a request for a near-impossible task. 

“Of sorts,” the man shrugs.

Simon does not like this, and one glance at Price tells him that the older man feels the same. 

Price folds his arms across his chest, metal bracers clinking against his chest piece. “What’s your price?”

“A story,” the man simply says. 

“You want us to tell you a story?” Even through the shrouded mask, the disbelief is clear in Simon’s voice.

This has to be a trick. The man is clearly a swindler, wasting their time to get a free meal.

“Quite the opposite,” the man laughs. “I’d like to tell you a story. One about how I came across this flower, and, if you manage to make it to the end, I’ll tell you how to grow the flower for yourselves.”

The trio shares a look of wary skepticism, knowing they all share the same thought. Something isn’t right here. It can’t be this simple, this easy. Not when they’ve spent months exhausting every resource, every contact–from officials in the high courts to the lowest of street urchins–available only to come up empty-handed. 

This man is bold, brazen, and a liar. On that, they can all agree.

But there’s something about the way he’s so casually confident in his words. Something simmers just beneath the surface with this man. Something strange. Something…sad. 

He may not be telling the truth about the flower, but they’re sure he has some information that could be valuable to them. 

Price looks to the other two, brows raised in question. Simon and MacTavish each give him a single, reaffirming nod.

“Alright,” Price sighs, leaning back in his crooked chair. “Tell us your story, Mr…”

There’s an awkward pause when Price realizes MacTavish never gave him this man’s name, made only more awkward when MacTavish’s eyes widen as he realizes he doesn’t know the name, either. 

The man takes it in stride, a soft chuckle as he tells them, “Garrick. Kyle Garrick.”

An old name. A rich name. A name written in royal histories about the first kings. 

The name of a family that’s been dead for over a century. 

There’s a hum around the table, a low buzz that sinks deep into their bones and weighs down their limbs. 

Kyle sets his plate aside, staring them down with a toothy grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. Something flashes across his face, a brief flicker of silver barely caught in the sunlight. There are no words spoken, but they all know–

They are trapped here. 

“We’ll start with something familiar, then,” Kyle hums, sharp eyes sliding over to MacTavish. The look of someone who’s obtained a victory. 

“Once upon a time…”

-

…There were no kings or queens to rule over the land. 

No kingdoms, or even cities. 

There was simply the Village and the Forest.

It was a simple exchange, a simple harmony between the two. The Forest would provide food, lumber, livestock, and protection so that the village could thrive, and the villagers would take only what they needed. No more, no less. 

The villagers did not ask where these things came from. They did not demand to know the name of their benevolent caretaker. They said their thanks, made their offerings, created festivals to celebrate their Forest.

They were grateful.

Until the night of the full moon, when a young man, drunk from a week of celebrating the harvest, wandered into the trees. It had been a dare, a test of bravery from the woman whose hand he sought. 

“Name your price, and I swear to you, I’ll provide it!” the man had foolishly declared, loud enough for all of his friends to hear. 

The woman had no intention of marrying him, desperate to be rid of his affections as she preferred another, richer man. She smirked at him, nose high in the air as she told him, “I’ll take your hand and name, but three things you must bring me. First, a ring made from the brightest star in the sky. Second, a dress sewn from the silk of the sea spider queen that resides in the lake–”

Already an impossible task, a joke made of the proposal and the man. 

But the woman was not finished, her grin cruel as she spoke her final request, “And last, a cloak made from the hide of the rarest creature to dwell in the Forest.”

Where there had been laughter, silence now loomed. 

To go into the Forest…

It had never been done, an unspoken rule passed down through generations. They were only meant to take, to thank, to leave. Never to enter. 

But the man would not be deterred, a dangerous mix of love and liquid courage coursing through his veins. 

He turned on his heels, picked up his bow, and marched straight into the Forest.

It didn’t take long for the noises of the village to fade behind him, and the world to grow dark. The trees were too thick for the moonlight to reach, plunging him into unfamiliar darkness. 

But the man would not be discouraged. He pressed forward, walking until his legs shook and the drink wore off, determined to find his rare creature. 

And a rare creature he did find. 

After hours in the black of the Forest, the man heard a voice. A sweet song, drifting through the leaves to reach down into his very soul. He felt light, the pain in his muscles fading as it lured him deeper and deeper and deeper. 

–Into the very heart of the Forest. 

A weeping willow larger than any tree he’d ever seen resting in a ring of red toadstools. So large was it, it broke the canopy of the Forest, its weeping white blooms glowing in the pale moonlight. Soft petals and catkins drifted in the gentle breeze, littering the pale blue grass beneath his feet. 

And there, in the gold of its branches laid her. 

Skin textured like bark, clothed in a dress of draping pale petals, hair so long it wound high into the branches, the Willow Maid sang into the warm, night air. 

Entranced by her voice, her beauty, her presence, the man abandoned his bow. His proposal forgotten, he stepped forward eager to hear more of the maiden’s song. 

Unable to keep his arms from her ethereal form, he unwittingly stepped over the threshold of toadstools. A gust of wind carried the last of her song, as she turned in her branches to stare down at him.  

A piercing gaze, ever-shifting through the colors of the rarest gems. She watched him, staring into him, around him, through him. 

Cautious. Curious.

So overcome by her beauty was he, the man spoke without thought, “Fair Willow Maid, I would seek forgiveness for interrupting your lovely song.”

A dangerous thing, to be indebted to her, but the man did not care.

“Then my forgiveness is granted,” she said, voice echoing in the drifting of leaves and waves of the grass. “But it is not forgiveness which brought you to my willow bed. You seek the hand of a woman. A love to be bought and born of my demise.”

“A hide,” he corrected, flinching under her accusation. “Of the rarest creature to dwell in this Forest.”

“What is rarer than the Forest’s own master?”

The man could not answer, stunned by this revelation. 

Master of the forest, of beasts, and of men. And he had sought to kill her for a love unrequited. 

“You will return to the object of your desires, a failure. My hide is mine own, and I will not allow it to be taken by a love-sickened hunter.”

Foolish and guilty the man may have been, but he was also clever, and a solution quickly came to his mind. 

He could not return with the hide, but that did not mean he had to return empty-handed.

“Come with me, dear maiden,” he called into the branches. “Come from thy willow bed, and meet those who would worship at your feet.”

There was no anger in her, no offense at the thought she would be so vain as to want of worship, but instead peace. 

Calm. 

Serenity. 

A gentle, pitying smile, her voice soft as the moonlight, “I cannot leave this place, daring hunter. Instead, I may present you with a parting gift.” 

The winds shifted, drooping branches caressed his face. 

The man blinked and found himself at the Forest’s edge, staring out at the sun rising over his village with his bow in hand. Around his neck hung a locket of pure gold, a glowing white willow carved into the center.

“I give you this gift,” her voice drifted into his ears, faint and distant. “Proof that you have been blessed by my forest. You may return if you’d like, but I warn you. Don’t ask me to follow where you lead.”

-

Kyle pauses to take a drink, his attention elsewhere long enough for their limbs to loosen slightly. 

“Tha’s quite the tale ye have,” MacTavish says once he regains control of his mouth. 

“So, the flowers are Fae magic,” Price hums. “Guess the stories were right about that.”

“More than you’d think,” Kyle sighs, a bitter chuckle as he sets down his cup. 

“Forests are all cut down and contained now,” Simon says, cold, calculating eyes kept on Kyle. 

“Aye, and th’ Fae Folk are all but gone,” MacTavish adds. There’s a grimace on Kyle’s face, a flinch that he covers by pretending to rub at his eyes. 

“The flowers must be left over from the willows, then?” Price deduces, his head tilted towards their storyteller. Kyle shrugs, with a noncommittal nod that sets off alarms in Simon’s head. 

“Where did you hear this story?” the masked mask asks. “We’ve heard all of the tales, the bedtime stories, the songs. Yet, I don’t think we’ve ever heard of a Willow Maid.”

“Very few have,” Kyle says simply. “For good reason.”

“And we’re supposed to believe you?” Simon scoffs. “A man we hardly know, telling a story no one else has heard of, about a flower that might not even exist.” He looks to Price, the request clear in his eyes.

This is a waste of time. We should leave.

“The deal wasn’t for you to believe me.” Kyle’s voice is sharp, a dangerous edge laced across the tight smile on his face. “The deal was for you to listen.”

The word hisses from his mouth, and Simon feels his muscles tighten painfully. MacTavish groans next to him, and Simon knows he and Price are feeling the same. A weight holds them down, keeps them in their chairs, unable to move or look at anything other than Kyle. 

Kyle simply smiles.

“If I may continue?”

-

…The village had hailed him a hero.

To have gone into the Forest, and emerged with its blessing? There was no higher achievement, no feat more accomplished. 

They showered him in gifts, in favors, in endless wealth. 

The woman whose hand he sought all but threw herself into his arms, so proud to accept his proposal now. 

Yet, he denied it all. He did not want gold nor gems nor silks. He did not care if he had the biggest house, the fattest livestock, the fullest larder. 

His heart’s true desire rested in the heart of the Forest, nestled safely in her tree. 

He visited the Willow Maid often, disappearing into the Forest trees for weeks at a time. Others tried to follow him, tried to gain the Forest’s favor just as he had. All but him were spurned, led into the depth of the trees only to be twisted and turned and led back to where they had started. 

The woman he once sought grew so green with jealousy, she marched into the Forest promising to find what had stolen his affections with a sharp knife and bundle of matchsticks. She never returned, and the Forest refused to provide until the man visited again to apologize on the village’s behalf.

They stopped following him after that.

The man was not bothered, content to be left alone with his Willow Maid. He enjoyed his time, resting in the shade of her tree, listening to her sing or telling her tales from his childhood. He spoke with her, laughed with her, learned about her and her Forest and her creatures. 

Years passed, and his visits grew. He had befriended her, treasured her, loved her. 

And she loved him in return.

The village was alight with rumor and speculation when the man walked into the Forest, dressed in his finest with a bundle of fresh sunflowers in hand. 

Unwavering faith. Admiration. Sincerity. 

To love until the end. 

A proposal with the highest affections.

He stood beneath her willow and wrapped the flowers in the moonlit branches. They carried the fresh blooms to his love, his declaration loud for all of the Forest to hear–

“You’ve captured my heart, my sweet Willow Maid. With your Forest’s blessing, I would be honored to be your groom.”

She smelled the sunflowers, cradling them in her arms like the most precious of gifts. She released them to the branches, watching them drift high into the willow, out of her sight and out of his. 

The wind whispered across his cheek, blossoms shrouding the maiden before she appeared before him at the base of the tree. He took her into his arms, holding her close against him. Everything about her was perfect, the velvet soft petals of her gown, the radiating warmth of her skin, the smell of ambrosia in her hair. 

There would be no other for him, in this life and every life.  

His heart was completely hers, just as hers was his. 

“My dear, darling hunter,” she spoke, her hands a soft caress on his cheeks. “I can wed you never. Not near, nor far, nor soon.”

A heart-shattering rejection that would have ruined him for love eternally had she not looked so mournful. So regretful.

“Why?” he begged. “What is it that keeps you from me?”

A hand on his heart, the other on her tree he feels the pulse–the life–thrum through her fingertips. “I told you, I cannot leave this place.” 

He grasped her hand in his, his voice a sweet murmur as he gave her his solution. “Then don’t.”

A long-awaited kiss, and an even longer-awaited night possessed by the feel, the touch, the love of one another. A promise of dedication, of ever-lasting love. Whispers sewn into the infinite roots of her willow.

They rested against her tree after, pressed against one another as she traced along his chest, a glowing willow forever marked over his heart. 

“The Forest is not your home, my lovely hunter, and I would not be so cruel as to bind you to it. You may come and go as you please. I will always be here, awaiting your visits, but you cannot ask me to follow where you lead.”

A plea unheard, falling deaf on sleeping ears. 

-

The barkeep comes to refill the ale, and the pressure releases as Kyle thanks him with a smile. 

“This is startin’ to sound…personal,” MacTavish jokes, and Price is thankful for the man’s sharp eyes and unrestrained tongue. 

Kyle murmurs something they don’t catch, lips quirking up at the corners. 

“Perhaps it is,” he shrugs. There’s something playful in his tone. Mischievous. As if he's proud of their keen attentions. 

“Laying with the Fae’s an awfully bold thing to do, but promising yourself to one?” Price lets out a low whistle. 

“Foolish, more like,” MacTavish chuckles. 

It wasn’t unheard of. There were stories of humans being whisked away in the night to live a life of comfort and luxury among their Fae lovers. They were mostly fairytales, told to satisfy young children and hopeless romantics, as most of those who’d grown already knew of the dangers of the Fae. 

They knew the true nature of the Fae, and that a mortal’s comfort often went hand in hand with servitude. Wealth and luxury were rewards for proper entertainment and could be stripped away at a moment’s notice. The Fae were as cruel as they were kind, and their promises were not to be taken lightly. 

“Maybe a little of both,” Kyle hums. “Love makes fools of even the best of us.”

“I’ll drink t’ tha’!” MacTavish laughs, and the pressure in his limbs loosens enough to allow him to toast his cup against Kyle’s. 

“So,” Simon speaks up, flexing his hands as a test of mobility. When he’s given range, he leans back his chair, one hand resting around his cup. “What happened next?”

There’s something mournful in Kyle’s smile. A pained regret they very easily recognize. 

They’ve all known that sting of loss.

“What happened next…”

-

…It was the tree.

The willow–her willow–kept her bound to the Forest, away from her love. She had tried everything in her power to make it see reason, to let her wander from its ring of toadstools.

She made offerings, formed new creatures to take her stead, begged at its roots. 

It denied her every time. 

The man tried to stay with her, but I–he could not thrive in the moonlight alone. He could not live off of Forest’s magic as she could. He had to return to the village.

They were resigned to spend their years as often apart as with each other. Not a moment together was wasted. Their joinings were beautiful–soft and tender and full of love–and their partings were miserable. They mourned in their time away, grief-stricken and sick with yearning for their other half. 

Five years of this unending misery, and the man had had enough. 

He stormed through the forest, a fury of determination. The trees parted for him, in fear of the sharpness of his eyes and of the axe in his hands. 

He was going to take his faerie—his wife—and free her from her prison. They were going to be happy together, raise their children together, live their lives together as they were meant to.

He did not waste time when he reached the clearing, did not give her warning before his first swing. 

The roots sprung forth, ripping through the earth to lash at the hunter, striking across his face to draw blood from his cheek. 

Still, he did not stop.

Neither did the tree.

The Willow Maid dove from its branches, shielding her hunter’s body with her own, taking the strike in his place. 

The willow halted its assault, axe planted firmly in its trunk. 

She stumbled to her feet, the split across her back dripping into the pale grass, staining its blades a shimmering gold. She stepped a sure foot forward, crushing the toadstools beneath her bare feet, and took the axe in hand. 

The echoes of her wailing melted into the cracking of the wood. 

The cry of her willow as it fell would haunt the forest for a millennium. 

She collapsed into sobs, but it was not for her willow that  she cried. She cradled the bloodied body of her poor, dear hunter close to her chest. Hair falling around them, its long tendrils soaked by the sweet smelling blood-sap oozing from her tree. 

She wept. 

For him, for her, for their freedom and love. 

She wept. 

Her willow personified. 

She waited until he was strong enough to stand, to face her, to hold her. A kiss over the cold corpse of her once caretaker. 

He led her back through the forest, hand clasped tightly around hers, ready to bring her home. His home, her home, their home. 

When they came to the forest edge, she gasped at the sight of the village. The burning orange sunset streaked across the fields, the speckle of lights from their windows against the darkening land, the sound of cheer and laughter and freedom. 

Her smile was bright enough to rival the stars, eager to start her new life with her love eternal.

Two steps past the forest edge.

That was as far as she got.

Two steps beyond the threshold and her knees buckled beneath her. Her hunter held onto her, lowering her into the warm grass. Her body seized in his arms, barkskin peeling and flaking into thin wood chips. Cheeks sinking in, hair thinning into long blades of grass, petal clothes wilting against her body. 

She pawed at his face, eyes wild with fear and confusion. Her whimpers and wordless pleas broke his heart, begging every god he could think of to fix his sweet Willow Maid. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She was supposed to be safe. They were supposed to be happy. Together. 

He felt her fade, her body melting in his arms, and a shrieking lament tore from his throat as he lost his one and only love, left with only her dim golden blood sliding through his fingers. 

The sun set, the moon taking its place high in the sky. 

The wind whispered across his skin, a fresh sting against the cut on his cheek, carrying with it the voice of her fallen willow. 

“You’ve stolen from me that which is most precious. Don’t you know that pain you sow is pain you reap?”

The Forest murmurs, trees rustled in the growing moonlight. Shimmering silver growing and growing from the dense woods, until it was almost blinding. 

“You have taken but you have not given in return, and so I make this trade instead. I will take from you what you took from me.”

The golden blood began to glow on his hands, glow on the ground, glow in the moonlight, light rising and rising and rising. It skimmed petal-soft across his hands, slinking into the grass where the dirt drank and digested it. 

There was shouting from the village as the lights crescendoed into one final, blinding beam then faded entirely. Everything was left in muted, dull tones as if the color was stripped from the world, the Forest silent and still for the first time since its conception. 

He knew that the Forest would provide for them no longer. 

All that remained was a beautiful, glowing flower. A moon-white blossom, a cruel reminder of what he had done.

The earth rumbled beneath his feet, one last biting sentence from the willow. 

“You can not take from the Forest what was never meant to leave.”

-

Kyle finishes his tale with a sigh of longing. 

“It was the biggest mistake I ever made,” he says, eyes cast down at the table. 

“A cruel lesson,” Price laments, eyes full of sympathy for the young man.

“And one repaid in blood,” Kyle sighs grimly. He takes a deep swig, setting his cup aside as the pressure lifts entirely from the group across from him. 

“The flower wilted by morning, taken from me forever, and I…did not respond kindly. I took up arms against the Forest’s creatures, hunted them to near extinction, and cut down every tree in sight. The magic was gone, but my people rejoiced. They named me Garrick, Spear King.”

The table goes still. 

They’ve heard of the Great Spear King. There’s not a soul alive who hasn’t. The story of how he founded the kingdoms, brought the world to rule under one benevolent ruler, was taught to every child, passed on through every generation. 

There were holidays named for him. Parades in his honor. 

Respects paid to his burial chambers every year. 

Kyle watches the realization wash over them, the skepticism, the caution. He stands from the table, a small gesture out the window. 

“The ruins of my village lie a tenday’s walk in that direction. Just beyond the flooded river, in a deep valley. There are remnants, sometimes, when the moon is brightest. You may not get everything you wished for, but there is power in that soil.”

“And that’s what the others found? Is it truly soil that they keep hidden in their vaults? Is it dirt that they credit their wealth and power to?” Simon scoffs.

“If it is, it’s not from the Fae,” Kyle shrugs. “There’s nothing left of their magic in this world. I made sure of it.”

“Then, why tell us?” MacTavish questions. The once-king shrugs again, adjusting the fastening of his cloak. 

“Curiosity? Boredom? Or perhaps, I just wanted someone to know the truth, and you lot seemed trustworthy enough.”

It should be a compliment, the highest honor given from the man who founded their nation, but it feels…sad. 

“I wish you luck, travelers. It is a rare day indeed that I find myself so open to sharing secrets.” 

Kyle doesn’t wait for them to say their goodbyes, or say anything really. He gives them a curt nod, and turns to head up the stairs to the tavern’s second floor. 

-

They wait until nightfall to leave, making their way down the path under the shroud of darkness.

Kyle watches from the window of his room, sitting tucked in the windowsill. His cloak abandoned on the uneven bed, he smooths his thumb over the well-worn metal of the locket around his neck. The tree’s glow is dim, barely noticeable unless he cups his hands around it, but it’s there.

He waits until the trio fades from his vision, shifting against the rotting wood to sit up straight. The moonlight casts its shine down through the foggy panes, but it’s enough light to satisfy him. 

Pressing his fingers into the sides of locket, he holds it under the light as it opens with a soft click. 

Petals burst from the seams, throwing the locket open to release a beautiful, bountiful white bloom. The flower soaks up the moonlight, waves of golden light pulsing over its velvet petals.

For one moment, he is that young man again, no longer carrying the burden of loss in his eyes, or the torment of a man who has been granted the curse of eternal life. 

He presses a tender kiss to the flower. “I’ve missed you, my love.”

The flower glows just a bit brighter.

[ressjeon]

storge: painting | myg

summary: you're busy preparing something for your one-two arguably little ones without thinking they'll do the same to you

rating: pg | word count: 0.8k

genre/au: slice of life, domestic!au, family!au

content: dad yoongles 🥺 and cute stuff (what is happening to me)

a/n: happy 30th birthday to the loml yoongi! finally posting a dilf drabble for him and posted on time. i suddenly wrote this out of nowhere after seeing some clips from the RUN episode last year because he's just a husband material oml i couldn't help it >.<

The smile hasn’t left your lips when you hear the bickering at a distance. 

You’re currently approaching the door right at the corner, carrying a tray of snacks and a pitcher to where the source of the noise is from. You knock as soon as you reach the door but they couldn’t seem to hear it because when you opened the door, your daughter and husband are still arguing in front of a canvas on the floor.

More like your baby girl complaining while Yoongi is purposefully being stubborn to tease her.

"daddy, come on, it's pretty easy" your toddler huffs as she tugs on Yoongi's rolled-up sleeve. Your husband’s wearing a yellow suede shirt, paired with a white one underneath that made you mildly concerned about getting dirty until he reassured you that he’d be careful. He’s wearing a long dark green canvas apron but even if it gets messy later on, he’d never mind so long as it makes his little girl happy. 

Your daughter’s little eyebrows are still scrunched together as she stares at her father's canvas. She seems to want him to paint a similar picture as hers, with bright colours closely depicting a flower garden. Your heart melts at what you’re seeing, Yoongi watching your daughter fondly while she tries to teach him how to paint like her.

The art supplies scattered around the covered floor that they're both on just add how beautiful what you’re looking at is. And now you know what to paint on your canvas.

You have to carefully mind your steps until you reach the table so you can place the snack tray you’re carrying.

It’s the weekend and you’re both thankfully off from work, allowing you and Yoongi to have a bonding time with your daughter. Every week, you let her pick on what activity you’re all doing as a family and this time its painting.   

"he's too lazy, mommy!" your daughter accuses, finger pointing at her father while holding a mini paint brush with her other hand. She’s pertaining to the plain hues of colour that Yoongi has been painting so far and it made you giggle. You approach his sitting form to see his progress so far. 

"not bad yoongs" you stare at his canvas of greys and blues with a teasing lilt in your tone making Yoongi pout.

"can you see my ruthless brush strokes? my plan was to only paint whatever comes to mind" he complains, lips puckering at your comment and it makes you laugh even more. 

.

"okay, break time for now" you called, unloading the snacks and a pitcher of pineapple juice. Your daughter immediately drops her brush and excitedly approaches you, having you remind her to be careful not to step on anything.

You handed her a glass of juice and a small slice of pajeon. 

"thank you mommy"

“ask daddy to get his share”

She hesitates a bit before calling for her Dad in which Yoongi replies with “i’m almost done baby”. 

He's getting lost in what he's doing again, similar to when he's working that you often have to remind him to get breaks.

“the hotteok’s gonna get cold Yoongi'' you playfully scold him, aware that he usually prefers to eat it quickly while it’s hot.

This got his attention and he eventually stands up, following his daughter to where you’re currently sitting. He grabs a bite and takes one fish-shaped bread after, humming when he tastes the red bean inside it. Of course, you have to make two flavours since he prefers that flavour while your daughter loves the custard cream filling like you do.

You help your daughter sit in her chair and move towards Yoongi next, bringing up his left arm to take off the hair tie from his wrist. He raises a brow at you, munching another piece of hotteok. 

“you’ve been moving your bangs a lot earlier, don’t want any paint on them” you smile, gathering his hair and pulling it back before securing it with the hair tie you’re holding. Yoongi's hair has been very luscious since he started growing it, and you've been doing your best to keep the scissors away.

However, you’re starting to regret doing so and your husband seems to notice it. Yoongi knows how you love his man bun, that little quirk of his lips stayed the entire time until he finished his glass of juice. 

He stands up to grab his apron to finish his own canvas, ignoring your flustered reaction. 

“mommy, come” your daughter breaks your reverie when her tiny hands reach for yours, dragging you to the empty canvas on her left side.

They've both gone quiet and are now focusing on their own canvases so you decide to do the same. You sat down and stare blankly at the canvas, forgetting what you wanted to paint when suddenly you feel strong arms caging you from behind.

Only then do you notice the paint streaks on your daughter's face, who's grinning widely while holding her small wood palette in her hand, fingers coated with paint as they reach out to your cheeks.

“your turn” Yoongi whispers beside you with his gummy smile, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before applying his paint-coated fingers to your other cheek.

In the end, you never get to paint anything on your canvas.

divider by: @cafekitsune 💕

[possessionisamyth]

can’t read even 1/4 of the het ships in this tag because people put all the women into such tradwife roles it makes me want to vomit, so here are my headcanons when it comes to cooking abilities

Jill Valentine- Military rationing because it’s less time consuming. She cooks once and makes enough food to eat on for two weeks. She will eat that soup/beans&rice/chili for every other meal until she runs out. All her recipes are “throw everything in a pot and let it simmer overnight” style. Anything that has her sauteing, baking, or frying will get burned since she gets distracted doing other more important stuff.

Rebecca Chambers- Does not cook. Can not cook. Has not figured out how to cook. Take-out Queen. She can find a good restaurant or cafe in any area and this skill was honed on purpose. Hates long wait times for food though, so if she can she’ll send someone else to get her food/drinks.

Claire Redfield- Cooking level is tolerable as in she can follow easy recipes when there’s a video to watch, but may get an ingredient or measurement wrong and wonder why the dish tastes off. Anything more complicated than meatloaf or country fried steak is her nemesis.

Ada Wong- Fucking hates cooking. Can cook something decent with the littlest variety of ingredients, but hates it so much. She hates the mess during prep time, the mess during cooking, and the clean up afterwards. Hires a personal chef where she can or goes out to eat. (Before anyone disagrees saying she doesn’t trust strangers this much, consider she has a lot of money from her jobs and most people do not actually know who the fuck she is.)

Sherry Birkin- Substitution Queen. Loves to cook, and loves to experiment with food even more. If she starts cooking and finds she’s missing an ingredient, she’ll look at other recipes to see if she can replace it with something else. Will finish eating her food experiments or new recipe attempts even if they’re a little bland while constructing ideas on how to make it better next time.

Ashley Graham- Cooks college student food even into adulthood. Lactose intolerant but ignores it.  Her mom couldn’t cook, and no longer having a personal chef left her in the wild to figure things out. She will put together any strange combination of food for the taste and calories. She mixes cereals together. She mixes plain yogurt into her ramen. She will lovingly add a slice of cheese on top of the most white looking piece of baked chicken before adding hot sauce and sandwiching it between 9-grain wheat bread for the sake of getting some kind of fiber in her body.

Ingrid Hunnigan- The planner. She can follow almost any recipe without too much difficulty, and always makes sure she has all the ingredients before she starts. She cannot improv or substitute ingredients to save her life.

Sheva Alomar- Teaches herself how to cook a new recipe or better a current recipe when she has the time. Has 5 go-to recipes she’s mastered which everyone loves, but no consistent recipe book. Will default to military rationing where she’ll make a big pot of something and eat on it for a few days until she gets bored of it and goes out to eat. Forgets about ingredients she purchased and only used a little of, and they go bad making her feel guilty.

Helena Harper- Frozen meals or box meals where she adds a “secret ingredient” into whatever she cooks. The secret ingredient is always cayenne pepper or bouillon powder.

Mia Winters- Can cook only the most white american food possible, but thankfully is not afraid of spices or spicy food. Hamburgers, steak, casseroles, tuna salad, and so on, she can manage pretty well. Any “foreign” food is lost on her. The first time Ethan brought home an avocado with plans to make guacamole, he caught her using a potato peeler on it.

Let me know if you’d like a similar list with the men of RE.

[mongpht]

Rollo Flamme - Student Council President Uniform SSR [translate]

PART 1

Noble Bell College - Bell Tower Interior

Rollo: Hmm… it's a bit cool. And sunrise time is getting later and later every day. Hmmm… It's a good time of year. I can spend less time in the classroom listening to silly stories from mindless students. Time to do what I have to do today before everyone wakes up… Besides, I wouldn't want those annoying creeps to find me.

Noble Bell College - Bell Tower Upstairs

Gargoyles: jumping.

Rollo: Yeah, shut up, you two! You bloody gargoyles! It's not nice to jump around like that. Why don't you two behave yourselves?

Gargoyles: * calms down *

Rollo: Yeah, I'll do you on my next day off. I can't bear to abandon what I've started. If you understand, leave already. I have important work to do… Finally. They're really annoying, aren't they? The mere fact that they live through magic is terrifying, and the noise… If I hadn't been watching the bell tower, I wouldn't have noticed those blocks of stone… Isn't that right, Salvation Bell. Hmm… You're very handsome today. How nice it would be if everyone were like you. It rings when it should ring and is silent when it should be silent. Nothing is ever so right and certain.

Rollo: …Оh. The sun will be up soon. Gotta get everything cleaned up before the ringers come. Let me hear your beautiful sound tonight. Oh, Salvation Bell!

PART 2

Noble Bell College - Courtyard

Rollo: You won't hear any nasty mages here. Let's take a break….

???: Headman, it's you!

Rollo: Huh?

Vice President: We've been looking for you, Rollo-kaicho*. I can't believe you had lunch here.

Rollo: You--

Vice President: Rollo-caicho, you eat bread for lunch. I didn't know that because I didn't see him in the dining hall.

Rollo: Yes, that's right. Two croissants and 16 grapes. And a cup of coffee with milk. Exactly that much, no more and no less. It's a fixed lunch every day, 365 days a year.

Vice President: What, every day? The same thing every day?

Rollo: If you choose to, you won't be driven by unnecessary desires. It's refreshing and very satisfying. I recommend it to you as well.

Vice President: I can't do that. I'd get bored too quickly.

Rollo: … I'm sorry you don't understand. What's more, you want something from me.

Vice President: Oh, yes. The teacher was just looking for Rollo-kaicho. He wants to know as soon as possible if the book report you recently submitted can be put in the newspaper.

Rollo: A newspaper?… If I take the morning paper, I take the morning edition of the Brilliant Country News.

Vice President: Yeah. It's amazing to be in such a big newspaper! That's what Rollo-caicho is all about. They told me again in class today that kaicho was the only one who passed his Potions test with a perfect grade.

Rollo: Hmm. Not a big deal.

Vice President: You're the very modesty! The other day you even made a hard-to-grow aquatic magic plant bloom. The teacher was very impressed. I have great respect for you. There is no other magician in this academy who knows as much as Rollo-kaicho knows!

Rollo: I see. mumbles Ironic, isn't it?

Vice President: Is something wrong?

Rollo: Don't worry about it. In fact, thank you for talking to me. And for your concern.

Vice President: Don't mention it! But while you're here, may I join you for lunch?

Rollo: … Absolutely not. We're almost done eating. Let's go straight to the teacher. Excuse me, I'll leave you to it. We'll have lunch next time.

Vice President: I see. Then I'll join you another time!

Noble Bell College - Lecture Hall

Rollo: … It's carefree. So carefree… I don't know what I'm thinking. Oh, that's not even the point. Let's go to the staff room.

PART 3

City of Flowers

Rollo: Good afternoon… Yes, that's right. I need my usual set of forms and envelopes. Yes, one plain white one… Hmmm, I agree with you.Even if some would call it anachronistic*, letters are a good thing. It's not as convenient as emails or phone calls, but the time spent means less careless remarks. What, are there cheaper ones from other manufacturers similar to this kit…? No, let's go with the usual. Changing your writing style in the middle of writing won't help. Everything has to be consistent… Yes, indeed. Thanks for everything. See you later… Good salesman. As a citizen of a town that loves a righteous judge. As a college student, I have to learn from you… This town is easy to live in. The people are nice and the scenery is wonderful. But these beautiful flowers are also held in place by magical power … Flowers …. Magic … Hmm…mmm…mmm…Hahaha…..

Goat: Bleh.

Rollo: Hmm. Is that a goat? What's wrong with you? Are you hungry? Unfortunately, I don't have anything you can eat right now. If you want to be fed, go to the others…..

Goat: Bleh.

Rollo: What? You're after my envelopes? How disgusting… Don't touch it. Don't eat my stuff. Besides, eating paper can make you sick to your stomach. I'm not saying it's bad. Give up the idea… Hey, stop it!

Goat: Bleh.

Rollo: You little goat. If you don't want to let go, here's an idea…! Ha. No, there are people here… If this creature wasn't valued in the city, I'd give him a good shove like that. You're just lucky.

Goat: Bleh.

Rollo: Don't chew on my clothes! The City of Flowers is beautiful, but except that such unhygienic behaviour is unacceptable...

Noble Bell College - Student Board Room

Rollo: "As you can see, I'm doing well, just like before. Take care of yourself." I wonder if I'm being too polite. Well, that's good. That's enough to let my parents know I'm living here without any problems. These people are fans of worry… Since then… very… … …

Rollo: … …Right. I'll see if I can add a few more additions to the letter. I won't be able to sleep well tonight anyway. I'll work on it to the best of my ability. There's plenty of time.

kaicho: forefather/elder anachronism: an erroneous, intentional, or conditional attribution of events, phenomena, objects, or persons to another time, epoch relative to the actual chronology.

[eyes-of-metal]

A World Without Heroes

Mystical Magical KISS AU

(Or the one where Bruce has no powers but must save them all)

Chapter Two: Within

Tag list: @elrohare @ravenh37 @chikarachick (Let me know if you want to be tagged!)

Sola’s POV

I sigh as I close another filing cabinet door; we’ve found nothing to help us. We might be screwed. Come on, Dad, you have to have something.

I open the next door, take the first file out, and begin sorting through it. Bruce searches through all the comics on the shelf next to me. It’s all KISS comics.

Wait.

What if the comics contain clues? I always used to think they were just made-up stories. My dad loves superheroes and horror, so I always thought the comics were based on that. I realize now that they might not be made up at all. What if it's been in front of us this whole time?

“Bruce, what if the comics contain clues? Things that could help us?” I suggest, bending down next to him and picking up a comic book.

“You know what? That's a good point.” Bruce agrees, pulling out another one.

“They have stories about stuff like this, right? What if Dad wrote something into them?” I say, flipping through and scanning it for Talisman, The Council of the Elder or anything along those lines.

“This makes sense; hiding in plain sight has been their thing since day one.” Bruce agrees, his eyes scanning the book pages in front of him.

I reached for another comic; the spine says it came out on the same day as my birthday, January 1st. As I do so, something white falls out of it.

I look down to see what it is. It's a white envelope with my name written across the front in back ink. I recognize the handwriting; it's my dad's.

Bruce stops what he's doing and watches me pick up the letter. Maybe my dad didn't leave me out in the cold after all.

I rip it open, pulling out the letter; a key falls out, and I pick it up as I start reading.

Sola, if you’re reading this, something terrible must have happened to me. In that case, you need to go to the KISS warehouse. I left you a key, and you will find the answers there. Remember, music is the key.

-Love Dad

“What does it say?” Bruce asks, clearly hoping for something that can help us. Luckily, he's in luck.

“He says to go to the KISS warehouse; there, you will find the answers,” I tell Bruce, folding up the letter and sticking it and the key in my back pocket.

“Let's go then,” Bruce says, getting to his feet with me behind him.

As we pass through the kitchen, I pause. I haven't eaten anything since this morning and suddenly feel hungry. I guess I've been so preoccupied with mystical beings and this quest that I have never paid attention to it until now.

I walk over to my dad's fridge and look for something to eat. This might be my last chance for a while.

“What are you doing?” Bruce asks curiously, standing in the doorway.

“Getting something to eat,” I tell him, “Listen, I'm still only a human, even if I'm on a mystical magical quest.”

“Well, come to think of it, I could eat.” Bruce laughs, coming up next to me. “They always conveniently leave this part out of these stories.”

“Thats how you know this is real life.” I joke as I pull out some cold cuts, cheese, mayo, and water bottles.

Bruce grabs the loaf of bread on the countertop and moves it to the island before taking out four slices.

It feels very domestic, like we’re a married couple making lunch in our mansion. If someone was looking in and had no idea, they might think just that. They'd never know we were just a couple of friends trying to beat the forces of evil to a magical talisman.

I can't pretend I haven't thought about what being with Bruce would be like. He's a sweet, funny, talented, and good-looking guitar player. We've become good friends, but that's all we can be.

Unfortunately, Bruce is my dad’s guitar player, and I know that my dad would not like us being together. I can't do that to Bruce, so it has to stay in my imagination.

I close up my sandwich as I watch Bruce clean off the knives we used. Even in a crisis, he's still the perfect house guest. I can't imagine him hurting a fly. So, the idea of us fighting evil is pretty absurd. I know how to hit back if I have to; I've thrown a punch or two in my life, but fighting people with magic? I don't think I’ll stand a chance.

Then again, I have this magical necklace if only I knew how to use it, and Bruce is the kind of person who would do anything for the people he cares about, which might manifest as some unknown strength.

“Alright, let’s go,” Bruce says, taking a bite of his sandwich as we head out to his car.

“I take it you know where the warehouse is?” I ask as I slide into the passenger seat, the sun setting over the hills.

“Yup,” Bruce replies as he starts the car, “Do you think the talisman is hidden in the warehouse?”

“I don't know,” I admit. “It would be easy, but I highly doubt it is that simple.”

“I agree, but at the very least, I hope we find out more about all of this,” Bruce comments, the golden hour light casting a nice glow on his handsome face.

I'm happy I’m not doing this alone. I don't think I'd have the strength, but knowing someone is here with me makes it much more manageable. I hope we can figure this out in time to save them. I'm terrified. I don't want to admit that, but what if I could do this? What if I try and fail and can't save my dad? What if evil wins?

——————————————————

Bruce’s POV

I know Sola is scared. I can see it in her eyes. She's trying to hide it, but I can see it. I'm afraid, too. I'm not a hero; I'm just a guy who plays guitar in a rock band. The catch is that the rock band is filled with Mystical Guardians, and now I have to save them.

The irony of the only one without magic having to save them all isn't lost on me. They decided I wasn't worthy of this power. I wonder why? Maybe it's because the talisman switched hands several times, and they didn't want that again, or perhaps they didn't see me as worthy.

I hope they hid magical weapons like a phaser gun from Star Trek in the warehouse. Otherwise, I'm pretty fucked. I can't fight; I was never that guy who got into fights as a kid. I was the Jewish kid they picked on. I try to avoid fighting of any kind, verbal or physical, you name it, and I try to avoid it. I'm more of the kill-them-with-kindness type.

Then again, maybe if I were put in a situation where I had no choice, my fight-or-die instinct would take over. I have a feeling I’ll find this out sooner rather than later.

I know Sola knows how to throw a punch. I’ve seen her break a guy's nose who got a little too handsy with her. She can handle her own, which is a good thing. She also has a necklace. She has no idea how to use it, but she's smart, and I think she’ll eventually get it. I hope she does anyway.

I look into the parking lot as we pull up to the KISS warehouse, where we store all our extra gear, old stage sets, and clothes. The only car in the lot is Eric’s silver Porsche.

It was a much nicer and more recognizable car than my Ford. Gene and Paul gave it to him when he first joined. He got a car and the talisman, and I got nothing. He had to have been here before he disappeared.

“Eric was here,” I tell her, pointing to the car. “That’s his.”

“Hmmm..” Sola ponders, “He must have needed something, right?”

“Right.” I agree, “I just hope it's not what we need.”

“Well, there is only one way to find out,” Sola says, opening the car door.

She pulls the key out of her back pocket and unlocks the door. We walk into the space, which is filled with various things, including guitars, trunks of stuff, and different stage sets.

“Do you have any idea what we are looking for?” I asked Sola if she had read Gene's letter, but I hadn't.

“Nope, so just look for anything that seems alien or could lead to a secret door?” Sola suggests as she starts looking at a rack of clothes.

I start by looking at a rack of guitars. They’re Paul touring Ibanez PS120s guitars with a black finish.

I pick up some of them to see if anything happens, but nothing does. I set the guitars down and then focused on the wall behind them. It's just a blank wall, nothing once again.

I walk to the part with all the stage sets. They've been broken down into pieces. Sometimes, the band reuses parts in different sets. I spot the giant KISS logo we used on the latest show, with the multi-coloured lights.

Hmmm. It will take all day if we keep going about the search like this. Then I remember the letter.

“Sola, can I see the letter?” I ask her if maybe there is a clue hidden in the letter itself.

Sola hands me over the letter.

It’s short and sweet. You can tell Gene wrote it; the last line stands out. “Music is the key.”

Then it dawned on me. Music is the key to opening or finding whatever he sent us here for. Cresita mentioned how music powers the magic and allows people to access it. That's how we see what we’re looking for.

“Sola, grab me a guitar,” I tell her as I walk over to where I spotted an amp earlier.

“Okay?” She says, sounding slightly confused as she takes a guitar off the rack.

“Music is the key.” I explain to her, “We need to play music to find whatever your dad sent us here for.”

“Music is the key,” Sola repeats, a look of realization crossing her beautiful face as she hands me the guitar.

I plug it into the amp and turn it up to ten. I'm unsure if volume has anything to do with this, but I'm not about to risk it.

I’m not entirely sure what I should play. Should it be a KISS classic? Should it be one of the songs I played on from the newest album? Does the song choice matter? There is only one way to find out.

I start playing the solo for Uh! All Night is the first thing that pops into my head. As my fingers move across the strings, a part of the wall glows in a bright white light. It gets more colourful and brighter until it eventually disappears, and in its place is a doorway to something.

“Holy shit.” Sola curses next to me, “It worked.”

Well, maybe being a guitar player will benefit me in this quest.

I take a few steps closer to the opening and peer in. It leads to a stone tunnel lined with torches, like something you'd find in a medieval castle.

I shoot Sola a look over my shoulder.

“Together?”

“Together.” She nods in agreement as we Enter the tunnel, me in front of her behind me.

I'm not letting Sola go first; I’d rather risk myself than put her in danger. I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to her, something I could have prevented.

The stone has what looks like some alien language carved into it, along with carvings of different KISS-type makeup designs and some objects.

The tunnel eventually ends with stairs leading down into a big open room. In the middle of the room is a big wooden table with an old-looking book, which hovers over it in some gold-sparkling force field.

The walls around the table all have hovering instruments, but the shimmering forcefields are different colours. The first guitar is sapphire blue, the bass is scarlet red, the drumsticks are orange, and the second guitar is purple.

The bass has the Demon makeup carved above it, the drumsticks the Fox, and the purple guitar the Starchild. The other guitar doesn't have anything above it. That must be where my persona is supposed to be.

The wall directly across from the entrance has a display case carved into the rock—a few more magical-looking books are sitting on it.

I walk down the stairs, my footsteps echoing on the stone floor. Sola followed behind me.

“What is this place?” She asks, looking around in wonder.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” I shrug; if I was going to guess, it’s their version of the Batcave. I approach the book on the table. The script on the cover is the same alien language carved into the wall.

Shit. I can't read Alien.

I reach out to open it anyway. Maybe it's a picture book, and I can still piece something together.

I touch the book and feel a sudden jolt of electricity run through my body. Suddenly, I'm not in the room anymore. I'm standing in a room with a marble floor and large marble columns. Four figures stand around me. They’re cloaked, just like Cresita was. This must be the Council of the Elder she was talking about. I can feel the power in the room, magic radiating off them.

One of the figures steps forward, never revealing their face. They speak, their voice loud and powerful.

“Bruce Kulick of Earth, you seek to know where the fourth Talisman is. We can't tell you. Searching for it is part of your destiny; we can't interfere with destiny. Your companion contains the key to finding it. You must help her see the path to victory.”

Before I can ask any questions, I am pushed violently back. It feels like whiplash like I'm being shoved violently back. It only lasts a second, and I'm back in the room, catching my breath. Sola is shaking me.

“Bruce!”

“I-I touched the book and had just had some kind of vision.” I tell her, “I think it was the council of the elder Cresita was telling us about.”

If I had told anyone else this, their chance of believing me would be zero. I think we’ve been through enough crazy shit within the last 24 hrs. Me saying I just had a vision by touching a book seems normal to Sola.

“What did they say?”

The words are burned into my mind, so I told her what they meant to me: world for the world.

Sola sits in silence, processing it.

Where do we go from here? What key does Sola possess? How will I help her discover it? God, these mystical beings love being vague, don't they?

I look at my watch. It's past midnight. Today has been exhausting. I got touched by magic twice, and god knows tomorrow will be longer. We need to rest so our minds can be sharp to figure out this fucking riddle.

[saliosis]

your subway order total is $19.21

(extra notes below)

ok, so here's the deal with the slight design change! (i swear, it's cool)

i wanted to make chuck latino because i joked about it once (w/ fred stoller being on handy manny saying "my amigos 😆" and then saying his colors look like the flag of colombia 💀) but it stuck for some reason. to me, it works PERFECTLY.... if becky can be an alien who is

"ambiguously brown"

then why can't a sandwich person like chuck also be brown, yknow 🔥⁉️

(help i keep accidentally latinoifying wg characters--)

chuck? nah. he is now, officially

chuck el sandwichero perverso 🥪🇨🇴‼️🔥

(as they call him in the spanish dub aka chica supersabia)

for starters, i wanted to experiment with changing the type of bread he's based on. i can assume chuck is based on the classic sandwich made up of white bread (...💀) so i wanted to change it up for latino chuck.... yknow... yknow.... yknow.... 🕴️

i'm also just not a fan of plain white bread 🤕 LMFKAJDKSN

i had a couple of options to chose from so i can upgrade his sandwichness™ 💭 but i decided to settle onnnnnnn..........................

funky multigrain bread!! my favorite 🥄🥄‼️ anytime i make a sandwich, i usually reach for this bread... (and when i say "anytime" i mean the times i'm extra and watch a chuck episode while eating a sandwich 💀💀)

i like the idea of chuck having seeds and grains on his face... think of it like moles, freckles, or even acne scars if you will 🤷‍♂️ brent straight-up has seeds on him that represent freckles so why not, right⁉️ we can get creative here w/ it!!

plus- he's so much more bread-like this way

above is a fast doodle, but it is what i ended up sticking with for my design. if you see in the final drawing, i did shift around with some of his costume colors to make it work with the bread type-colors!!

i imagine brent being a variation of bread that looks similar to chuck. that way chuck can be multigrain bread and brent can be another type.

parent who is multigrain bread + parent who is another type of bread = two siblings, each being one of two options of bread because of genes™ (wow. sandwich person science 😍😍🥪🧬 /s)

my two options for brent's bread type? because i will probably never draw that man? either molasses bread (left) or even dark rye (right)?? but i lean towards dark rye brent because that idea seems so scrumptious to me

ngl i have never been too sure what type of bread brent is based on......

the wiki doesn't really help me decide. he has freckles that seem to be like seeds, so that means he's a type of bread that has seeds. but also, not that many seeds.... which is likely an animation thing since animating all those damn seeds must be hard. but idk? but his skin tone is very slightly darker than chuck so that makes me think he isn't white bread based™ (help what am i talking about)

if any bread experts™ out there have some guesses, let me know so we can talk about that more. for some reason, this is really fascinating.

anyways.... latino brent can be real too 🤷‍♂️

um...............

brent 😍🥪🇨🇴🔥‼️

(because i swear to god they just call him brent in the spanish dub instead of his long ass name)

but yeah 👍 that's my little hc-chuck related ramble. i may not talk about him, but i really fuckin love chuck 😭

............ .. . . . ... . .... . .. . ...... . .. ...... ....... .. .. .. .....typing this out has made me realize how much thought, effort, and research i have done all because of a joke i made. a joke i made about a cartoon character from a kids show where we haven't gotten new content in years. and that it's likely that i'm the only person thinking so deeply about a family of sandwiches--

[fluffle-writes]

For weirdcore au

How do some of the mouthless experience taste? Do the hungering flames have preferences? Like flammability versus how clean it burns (oils and grease can burn easy but not cleanly, not all wood burns the same either with some leaving fine ash versus lumps of char or even residue from sap and oils). Or maybe it's based on the contents? Magic or mineral or just plain ol texture? Or maybe they do taste the chicken in the smoke and ash and they eat up some crispy tenders just like us?

What if plant types? Do they have a preference? Or even Idia? Does he have favorite memories to consume?

Sorry if there's a lot of questions 😅 i just really like this

Don't apologise for asking questions! Answering them is TONS of fun! It gives me an opportunity to dig into lil nooks and crannies of my mind palace to find good answers about how their weird lil world works! :D

Weirdcore AU Masterlist Here!

The way that these guys experience taste...

I feel like the plant guys would likely have something going on that's based on how butterflies or octopuses have taste buds on their feet/tentacles, where the plant guys have taste buds on the roots that they consume their food with! These taste buds are incredibly strong, so it's common for beings who eat this way to be picky about their food. (For example, Cater vehemently dislikes sweets, and Trey can't stand mustard!)

Ones who eat with fire can only taste foods that last long enough in the fire - so things like cotton candy would burn away too quickly to be tasted. But ice cream resists burning for a while, so the taste lingers! Things like onions may also be caramelised by the heat, which makes the flavour more complex and appealing to the person eating it. Wood and oil can be a staple food for younger or weaker beings with this feature, as it can help them maintain more energy and keep their flame strong and in good health!

Any residue from the burnt food is swallowed and further digested - it's like how cows have more than one stomach to properly digest the grass that they eat. Beings like Malleus will have a digestive system specifically designed for digesting ashes and burnt remains of the food they consume. For larger chunks of ashes, they may either regurgitate pellets like barn owls owls do with indigestible parts of their food, or they could simply swallow those chunks whole like snakes, crushing them in their throat as they do so.

Idia's sense of taste, when he uses his tech to eat, is more artificial (for normal food consumption, at least.) Like if he eats a banana or a strawberry, the flavour will be more artificial. This is why he may prefer more artificial foods when he eats with his mouth - it's what he's used to tasting.

Memories are somewhat different though. The memories of an unthinking animal is somewhat plain, like eating plain white bread or a rice-only diet - it's filling and a good part of a diet, but memories of more intelligent prey gives him other forms of energy that are vital to his health. I'm not sure what memories would be his favourite... Possibly memories from childhood, of untethered joy. Those ones are particularly sweet.

Sad memories are more bitter, while memories of love have fruity or floral flavours, and memories of victory often taste meaty - like a good steak. But like I said, Idia prefers the sweeter memories (his favourite food is sweets so I'm pretty sure our guy has a sweet tooth lol)

[princesssarisa]

The next series of tales in Heidi Ann Heiner's Cinderella Tales from Around the World are tales of the Love Like Salt variety.

This is a subtype of Donkeyskin, but in place of a father wanting to marry his daughter, it opens with a different scenario. A king (or just a rich man, but usually a king) asks his three daughters how much they love him. The elder two daughters describe their love in terms that please him, but the youngest says that she loves him as much as she loves salt. (Or that she loves him as meat, bread, or food loves salt.) Because salt is common and cheap, or because it tastes bitter alone, the king takes this as an insult and banishes his daughter. (Or worse, he orders a servant to kill her in the forest, but the servant lets her go, a la Snow White.) From this point on, the story usually becomes like Donkeyskin or All-Kinds-of-Fur: the princess finds lowly work at another palace, somehow acquires beautiful gowns, attends festivities, and wins the prince's love. (Or sometimes, he simply finds her in the forest and marries her right away.) When they marry in the end, she invites her father to the wedding, usually without revealing her identity, and she has the food cooked without any salt. When the king tastes the bland food, he realizes the preciousness of salt, and that his daughter was telling him how dearly she loved him. Then the princess reveals herself and joyfully reunites with her father.

Needless to say, Shakespeare lovers will recognize this scenario. While King Lear was allegedly based on true events in ancient British history, the fact that it contains a common fairy tale archetype seems to imply that the story as we know it is more legend than fact.

I don't personally like this type of Cinderella story as much as other subtypes (or King Lear as much as other Shakespeare plays), for a very personal reason: my autism and self-diagnosed ADHD, which cause Rejection-Sensitive Dysphoria. Seeing the princess rejected because of a misunderstanding by the father she loves more than anything is heartbreaking to me, because all my life, I've been irrationally afraid that my loved ones might reject me if I mistakenly say or do something they think is wrong. I tend to feel as if the king is too easily forgiven, because while my head says it just shows the princess's immense love and grace, my heart feels as if it means "He deserves her forgiveness, any parent could have made that same mistake (including yours)." But I suppose the solution is to look at the story from the king's point of view. The king arguably shows Rejection-Sensitive Dysphoria: he only rejects his daughter because he feels rejected by her and his heart is broken. Arguably, when he banishes her, he's behaving like an AuDHD child howling and raging at his mother because she said "When you act like this, I don't want to be near you" and he heard it as "I don't love you anymore." When his daughter helps him to see her love and forgives him, I should see it as a reminder that my rejection fears have no real foundation, just like the king's sense of rejection by his daughter was wrong, and that my loved ones will forgive me for my mistakes too.

Besides, a case can be made that the princess is also in the wrong, for describing her love in such plain and "untender" terms that her father couldn't understand. @queenlucythevaliant has posted eloquently on this subject and has even written an interesting retelling of the story with this interpretation. It applies even more to Shakespeare's Cordelia, with her seemingly cold and clinical talk of love as a duty, than it does to the fairy tale princess, who at least means to convey that she loves her father more than anything, and just words it badly. Arguably, all Lear really wants at the beginning play is to hear warm, tender words of love from his daughters, and Cordelia chooses to be morally right rather than kind.

By the way, I don't know if this is true, but I've read the suggestion that the Love Like Salt tale might have originated as an attempt to bowdlerize Donkeyskin, replacing the king's efforts to marry his daughter with a different way of demanding too much love. So when people talk about possible incest subtext between King Lear and his daughters, especially Cordelia, they might have a point whether Shakespeare intended it or not. The folklore the story grew from may have been born from still older folklore where the king did have incestuous love for his daughter.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @adarkrainbow, @themousefromfantasyland