#his survivors guilt must be insane

[reinerbraunwife]

its a testament to floch’s writing with how many people are unaware they ARE him in the show 😭😭

i swear to god being a floch fan is so exhausting because one side of the fandom refuses to see any depth in his character and hates him blindly cause hes an antagonist and the other side is all "eren was right" "get rumbled stay humbled" jagerist dipshits that act like floch was this chad amongst mortals and its like no. can we give him some depth please. hes not the spawn of the devil (well depending who you ask in canon uhhhh) and hes not sume ultra sigma alpha jagerist either. hes a secret third thing and that thing is a pathetic loser boy with a really fucking hot voice

in all seriousness though his character is so well written just to have people simplify his character really poorly and inaccurately on BOTH sides. ugh. let me have an intelligent conversation about him please

[euryleli]

I really want to see Will and Lucas have a meaningful conversation, I want Lucas to confide in Will and vice versa!!

I need to see it like I need air to breathe, you guys don't understand!!!!!

And I NEED Mike and Dustin to grieve Eddie together! Just give me 1 scene - I'm gonna be so pissed if we don't get at least one talk with the two of them about their brand new shared trauma (Dustin held him in his arms as Eddie bled to death and Mike clearly idolized him - his survivors guilt must be driving him insane!)

[bears-are-my-favourite-colour]

Thinking about how Dutch's mind must have been racing once he saw Milton pushing Hosea around by the scruff of his coat. Like Milton had to know just how insane Dutch would get once Hosea was out of the picture.

But also, again, the idea of suddenly losing the only constant you've ever had in your life must drive one fucking insane. ~30 years of history gone within a second and then you have to watch as the man you ~love~, whether that be platonic or otherwise, die and not being able to help him just hhhhhh.

The fact that Hosea was shot through the heart too?

The fact that he didn't even get to settle down like Dutch and he had been planning and instead he was shot in the fucking street like a dog??????

Also also, Dutch definitely had some major survivors guilt. Like, he didn't even want to do the bank job, he COULD have said no and Hosea would have listened. He would probably bitch about it for a little, but he WOULD have listened. He always did.

And just to bring it up again, Dutch didn't fire a single bullet that whole shootout, man was definitely going through it and I would go as far to say he didn't even know what was going on for the most part.

[reincarnated-angel]

not even half a day later:

closer (nine inch nails) x fugo (& fugio) analysis bc this guy (me) is insane

Reinc- ReRe’s Incoherent Analysis

//notice: this whole post is full of reaching, tunnel vision, informal language and character speculation (reaching alert 🚨). i am very aware. im so sorry, its hard to read 😭 i just want the people to know that i understand that this is a reach, because im anxious and this is a fugio-focused analysis bc im not normal about them. this is the only way i can reassure myself that i'm self aware//

the instrumental to closer has a sludgy, mangy, sensual but horrific feel. it invokes a sense of intriguing disgust and it’s…hot, frankly. love this song. it makes me think of purple haze, its virus and the rippling skin it causes. the swampy?? sounds really remind me of that. also, the way it’s sung (?? past tense for sing) sounds desperate and frustrated at times which reminds me of fugo himself obviously. also there’s some vaguely siren-sounding instruments and that might be like. a warning. iykwim. a warning like the colours on a poison dart frog (reaching alert 🚨)

the lyrics aren’t exactly fugo literally. i do think the more explicit lyrics could be intrusive thoughts though. (reaching alert 🚨) i feel like some parts of the lyrics might apply, since the song can be interpreted as a self-harming cycle of addiction-to-an-escape, that concept i think can be demonstrated.

“I broke apart my insides

(Help me) I've got no soul to sell

(Help me) the only thing that works for me

Help me get away from myself”

this can be applied to fugo in a sense, as i think his character is intrinsically self-loathing for all the things that have happened to him, and as i headcanon him to be #beautiful physically, (albino, soft regal features) i think he hates that. hence being willing to sacrifice himself how he does in PHF and i also like to think he wears his glasses (headcanon alert, reaching alert 🚨) to sort of veil his pretty eyes //sorry, i like him//. i don’t think he feels like he deserves anything and keeps trying to make his physical appearance match his twisted self-image, consciously or not.

“My whole existence is flawed

You get me closer to God”

fugio. sorry guys

wuh oh saviour x damned dynamicksjshut up. im so into it

i. dont think fugo wants to exist. i have to be frank here. the only thing keeping him there was definitely the gang and having some sort of support, but even so he def had..thoughts sometimes. knowing half of them…went….would probably have broken him. in the 6 months he’d been alone, i can't imagine how horrid he must have felt, not knowing anything, worrying, screaming internally, probably barely getting sleep thinking he’d be found and shot or something for leaving them, or for being with the betrayers. (as in, if they survived, they’d come get him, and if they didn’t, passione would come get him for being associated with them) (reaching alert 🚨) when he found out about their deaths he probably blamed himself like the community does (lmao..sorry its not funny 🥲), thinking he could have saved them somehow with his stand. survivor’s guilt core. also, he was very close with bucciarati and was literally the first to be recruited. how do you think that feels. the man who rescued you from the depths of society. flipping DIES. trying to save the girl you thought wasn’t worth saving logically. god. //ugghrghgk the complexity this is why i'm in loooove//

”you get me closer to god” giorno! son of dio! how much closer could you get!!! we could flip that and say this means closer to feeling not guilty and holy.

“You can have my isolation

You can have the hate that it brings

You can have my absence of faith

You can have my everything”

//literally him !!!//

“isolation” 6 months of being alone. also purple haze forcing himself to distance from others literally for fear of damage

“the hate that it brings” reminds me of abbachio’s visible, almost violent fear of purple haze, knowing its capabilities and how it can destroy without thought. and of course fugo’s feelings about it. he hates this ugly reflection of the things he dislikes, his anger and lashing out at everything, and if we take his anime backstory as canon, the incident of being assaulted. looking at it invokes all these memories and it's painful to him

“absence of faith” you think he believes in anything after leaving the gang. you think he believes in HIMSELF? hell no he's got no faith in anything anymore.

“have my everything” oh no phf tieback again [gets shot] uughhhh i think im not seeing the deeper layers but stfu. i think devoting himself to one cause would give him a purpose and a will to live

“you tear down my reason…

…(Help me) you make me perfect

Help me become somebody else”

you already know what im gonna say.

he’s got all his doubts denied by giorno. i'm not idolising him it’s just from fugos perspective he’d definitely seem like one. (reaching alert 🚨) any self deprecation will be shot down in the name of healing, amen. “you make me perfect” the intertwining of their souls...uuhgh i'm not gonna go further with this cause thats so fanfic core and not relevant. //tears in my fugio eyes// “help me become somebody else” they're the new bruabba if that makes sense. (no it doesn’t)(reaching alert 🚨) abbacchio said he was at his best following orders and i feel like this might apply here. mindlessly obeying commands is becoming somebody else, no matter your feelings about it

“Through every forest

Above the trees

Within my stomach

Scraped off my knees

I drink the honey

Inside your hive

You are the reason

I stay alive”

theyve been through trials and tribulations. seriously

“I drink the honey / Inside your hive” i feel like fugo might feel like he's taking from giorno/passione. he feels guilty for accepting or asking for anything, even if it’d help or is necessary //me too// (reaching alert 🚨) “You are the reason / I stay alive” again, his tether to the world is that human connection. it's having someone accept him in the way that he needed to be accepted. (reaching alert 🚨)

thank you sooo much for reading my incoherent insanity bizarre adventure. sorry again for the reaches and text yelling. this is not edited and is very much written as if i was screaming in someone's dms. also, there might be some things i missed. 😔

please reblog and/or say something in replies, this is meant to provoke thoughts and discussions !

companion doodles… theyre not really related but whatever

fugio lps when

doodles on the left are from the 6 month gap (ace attorney ahh terminology)

[sabotsen]

God’s Offering

Relationship: Tulu & Keeper/Reader [Platonic!! Friends!!]

Notes: Based off his Wandering chapters and a bit of his Frenzy chapter. Word Count 5.5k because I’m insane. Cross posted to ao3.

Warnings: Child sacrifice, mentions of death and gore, grief, survivor’s guilt.

There is no such thing as an outstretched hand without expectation. There are always strings attached. 

Tulu knows this. It is simply the nature of things, much like the way a curtain of colors follows the sun’s trail across the sky. It just simply is. 

So why, then, are your strings so hard to find? They must be there, somewhere. True, there are times you ask for his aid in battle on the few occasions you manage to catch him awake enough to ask, but that is simply his agreement and duty to Mythag, not you. Perhaps if you reached out to him more often he might be able to see it, glinting like piano wire in the sun. But rare are the instances you reach out to him at all. He has noted, more than once, you tend to keep your hands to yourself in his company. Now and then, you offer small sweets if your hands are full from a recent visit to the bakery you seem to enjoy. 

But not once have you reached those scarred hands out to him, empty and pleading. 

It’s strange. Baffling even. 

Tulu watches as you crouch on the dusty paved walkway a short distance away, a small smile on your lips as you listen to three children awakeners. Jenkins and Aigis, he idly recalls two names only thanks to the passing memories of their play and laughter reaching him from afar as he dozed. He does not know which is which, however, and he lazily watches as the one with the tattered cloak jesters wildly with excitement. The other two are quieter: one clutches a doll beside the cloaked child and the other child with long brown hair lingers closer to you, almost pressed against your side. 

They’re speaking of a small path they found in the garden where a well tended to shrubbery maze rests, as if it might lead to a grand adventure or secret. There’s excitement woven into every word of the cloaked child and, although silent, it shines just as well in the gazes of the quiet children. There’s an innocence to them — in their words, their gaze, even in the way their tiny hands grasp at your clothes. 

It reminds Tulu of days long, long gone and buried beneath the waves. It reminds him of faces blurred by time that shook him from his sleep and dragged him from the bunk bed with giggles and urging. It reminds him of reverent whispers spoken in hushed tones as they dragged him down hallowed halls, hope and dreams lacing their every word. 

An ache, aged and calloused, unfurls in his chest. Heavy, it settles upon his lungs as he watches the three of you. But he sits by all the same — looking, waiting, searching. 

You listen to the children, laughing softly at their excitement when the cloaked child grasps your hand and tries to pull you up to follow and the brunette child clings to the folds of your clothes. The child clutching a doll hovers and watches, her face nearly hidden behind the doll.  

“I can’t right now,” you say even as you allow them to coax you to your feet. “Doll is waiting for me.”

The quiet child tilts her head up towards you and Tulu only barely manages to catch her voice, “Are you hurt?” 

Even the cloaked child settles as they stare up at you, worry muting their excitement, and the third child clings to the former’s cloak seemingly near tears. But you gently pat them each on the head and smile, “No, it’s just a checkup. How about I come find you two tomorrow morning?” When the three of them blink up at you, eyes wide, Tulu hears your laughter once more. “We can’t go on an adventure without packing anything. Even great thieves need tools, right Jenkins?” 

The cloaked child, Jenkins, immediately perks up. “Th- that’s right!” Her small hands clench into tiny fists for a moment before she latches onto the other children. “We have to get ready! Let’s go, Aigis, Lily!” 

Aigis stumbles but is quick to match Jenkin’s stride as if almost second nature. Lily allows herself to be herded and dragged away from you, but she still glances over her shoulder to give a small wave before Jenkins drags her too far for her murmur to reach you, “Bye-bye.” 

Tulu watches, gaze lingering on the gentle slope of your smile as you wave goodbye to the children. It’s only when they are out of sight that your hand falls, as does the smile on your lips. It shifts to something more subdued as you wallow in your thoughts. Behind you, the setting sun casts you in a gentle glow, the silver key around your neck glinting in the golden light. 

That weight still lingers in his chest, burdened even more by your solitary figure for a reason he doesn’t have the energy to discern. Instead, he calls out from his perch beside the fountain. “Shouldn’t you hurry along?” 

You startle, visibly jumping as your hands fly to the silver key around your neck before your head snaps in his direction. “Tulu?” Tension bleeds out of you just as quickly as it came and the chuckle you offer is more a weak breath than a true laugh. “How long have you been there?” 

“Long enough,” he closes his eyes for a brief moment, the fountain gurgling behind him. He had only come to stretch his legs and hide from Miryam for a moment, yet he ended up lounging here. It was… nice, even if only faintly, to hear the distant bustle of the university. The birds chirping in the nearby trees that rustled in the breeze, the occasional footfalls and rush of students and faculty as they moved from building to building, the hourly chime of the clock tower that loomed near the center of the university — the voices and life of people who did not crawl on their knees before him. The sound of life flowing, free from his grasp and direction, as it thrived around him. 

There was comfort to be found in it. There was a loneliness to be found in it. 

Tulu opened his eyes and noted you had ventured several steps closer, hands behind your back and head tilted slightly to the side. Absently, his Aequor limbs coiled closer, winding around the bench he lounged on and even dipping into the water of the fountain. The setting sun gleamed off his crown and cast even the green hues of his tentacles in a soft glow. He sighed, head perched upon his hand, “If you have something to say, I give you leave to speak it.”

“I only wanted to say don’t stay out here too long, Tulu. The evenings are getting colder.” 

That’s… it? 

Tulu blinks, nearly raising his head from his hand. That’s all? A faint frown tugs at his lips, his voice even and weighed with something too heavy for someone his stature, “You forget what I am.” 

“I haven’t,” you answer simply, still offering that baffling gentle smile. “I imagine even God Kings would have trouble sleeping if they get too cold.” 

Silence is your only answer as Tulu watches you, the soft coral of his gaze deepened to an almost eerie crimson hue by the setting sun. Patiently, you wait and watch as his gaze narrows, his presence alone enough to peel the layers away of any normal mortal’s facade. But you are no mere mortal and you do not buckle beneath his gaze. Tulu closes his eyes. 

You are different. For better or for worse. You have always been different. 

You know him well enough to take his quiet gesture as permission to leave. Just barely does he catch the faint chuckle you hide behind a quiet breath, nearly lost beneath the crunch of gravel underfoot as you turn to leave. 

“Wait.” 

It is pure impulse that wrenches the words from his lips. But you halt just the same, and Tulu feels the warmth of your gaze upon him, waiting. 

Almost hesitantly, he opens his eyes, but he keeps his attention downcast upon his Aequor limbs that curl just beyond his feet. The words form and die in his throat several times and he struggles to salvage the wreckage of their remains. It’s foolish, he knows, to hesitate like this. He is a God King — there are few things he has not seen and heard over his long, long life. 

But perhaps that is why he is all the more baffled. 

Tulu frowns, a furrow in his brow as his gaze finally lifts back up to your face. Your hands linger near the silver key — a nervous habit, he has long since noted — but still ever present is that soft smile of yours. The sunlight shimmers off the soft green of his tentacles as they squeeze close to him before unfurling out, expanding their reach around him as if to elevate his presence. 

Perhaps it is cruel of him to ask this of you. But enough time has passed with him holding his breath as if waiting to drown. Why haven't you reached for him? Why haven't you asked anything of him?  A cold, plain stone bench rests beneath him and the humble clustered buildings of Mythag sprawl just beyond, but all he feels is the bloodstained throne and all he sees is the muted, swallowed remnants of his homeland. 

“Do you not wish to ask something of me?”

Confusion wipes away your smile as you tilt your head to the side. “Like what?” 

“The revelations of a God, their prophecies, or even the vast treasures of Lemuria.” There’s an edge to his voice, crowned by the cold metal of the burden golden upon his temple and framed by the Aequor that coils around him. Faintly, he hears in the echoes of his own voice the prayers and pleas that used to haunt his dreams.

You laugh, more a huff than anything else, and an amused expression replaces your confusion. “I don’t need them.” 

The frown upon his lips twists, small and fragile in a way only a soul lost at sea would know – grasping at the wreckage of what he once knew and finding no landmark in sight. “Do you truly not need anything of me?” 

Tulu watches as you press your lips in thought for but a moment, fingers rubbing at the silver key. “Nope,” you reply with a smile so honest and bright it hurts. 

It doesn’t make sense.

An ache hollows him out, old and nameless. It settles in his lungs, nestles where the sea once burrowed when the grand civilization was swallowed. 

Tulu closes his eyes, Aequor limbs coiling close and in on themselves as if to make him smaller. You’re strange. So strange. A god king sits before you and offers a wish yet you laugh it off and continue on your merry way. Do you think he cannot honor his word? Do you think whatever you wish for is beyond his reach? 

“You are strange.” There’s a grumble to his voice, barely hidden behind the exhaustion he sighs with. 

You laugh. It’s a gentle and warm sound, an honest one — Tulu can’t bring himself to dislike it. “I hear that a lot.” 

When he does not respond, his eyes closed and his brow still slightly furrowed, Tulu hears the gravel crunch underfoot once more as you turn to leave. He does not stop you this time. He listens, straining against the noise of the trees, the chitter of birds, and the distant bustle of others to catch the sound of your steps until they fade. Only when you are truly gone does he open his eyes again, gaze lingering where you once stood. 

The sun has nearly vanished beyond the horizon and the deep blue and purple hues of the night creep across the sky. 

He is tired. 

Dreams hover on the edge of his periphery, gnawing upon the fringes of his waking mind. It wears him down to ignore them for long, but he couldn’t help but stall the lulling call of his evening nap when you happened by. He had thought perhaps if he watched you a little longer, stared a little harder, pried a little deeper he might finally see the strings wound about your hands. Perhaps he could finally, finally see your end goal. 

But it was for naught. 

All he saw is all he ever seemed to see. Your hands are empty and there are no strings attached to your kindness. You do not reach for him. You do not ask anything from him. 

Is it because you have nothing to ask from a King? Or do you have nothing to beg from a God?

Tulu rises slowly, Aequor limbs lazily unfurling and flowing in his wake like ripples on the water.

It doesn’t matter. 

He just needs to sleep a while, and then this ache in his chest will drown beneath the sea, just as all things do. 

He dreamt. 

Tulu always dreams, but this time was different. He dreamt not of things yet to come — of chaos twisting unto itself upon a throne of corpses he could never save. No, this time he dreamt of something etched in stone and lost beneath black waters. He dreamt of the past and that made it all the worse. 

Like a curse, those hallowed halls loomed around him, pale stone gleaming in the soft light as children — his friends, faces he has not seen for eons — chatter in hushed whispers as they dragged him along. At his side, as if he had never left, was Noah — face still soft and round, unmarred by both the sea winds and time. Innocent. Youthful. They all were. As they pulled him from the bed and dragged him through the quiet temple halls, dread coiled in the shadows of his every step. 

He knows how this plays out. He has seen it time and again, a curse burned into his mind at night whenever sleep claimed him — as unchangeable now as it was back then. Tulu watches, resigned, as his long gone friends usher him into the throne room. There, as he knew it would, gleamed the golden crown. Something bitter and cold coils in his gut at the sight of it.

Despite the many years since. Because of the many years since. 

Tulu did not dissuade his friends when they cloistered around the crown, nor did he stop them when they pondered testing it upon their heads. 

“To see if they are worthy,” one of them had said.

As if that relic was anything but a burden and a curse. 

When the high priest came and admonished them, Tulu let his eyes linger on the crown. What did they see when they stared at it, he wondered. Did they feel that eerie sense of dread drip down their throat as they neared it? Did they see the Aequor tentacles coiled about it, twisting and writhing like a beast grasping for air? In their eyes was it truly just a mere metal crown? 

Tulu closed his eyes. 

He did not ask. This was a dream. Nothing would change. 

Tulu resigns himself, as he always does, to allow the currents of the dream to carry him forth. There is no point in thrashing against the tide, no merit to expending energy in the struggle. Nothing would change. 

When the dream shifts to the crowning ceremony, Tulu tastes bile in his throat. He is loathe to relive this moment, no matter how many times he has seen it. It did not prepare him when it haunted his dreams prior to the ceremony, and it did not bring any comfort now that his homeland lay buried and lost beneath the sea. He lingered, just as he had that day, at the foot of the grand altar. 

Distantly, he feels something different. Something off. There is something — someone in the dream. 

But he hears the reverberation of several pairs of footsteps climb the stairs and he cannot focus on anything else. He feels the rain against his skin, hears the distant scream of his people as they flee to safety. Nature and beast alike roar in the approaching distance upon the black waters. At his side is Noah, face twisted with worry and fear. But there, upon the altar is that foolish, gentle friend of his — Samuel. The clown glints in his too small hands. 

Tulu sees, too late — always too little, too late — the golden crown rest upon Samuel's head. For only a moment, a heartbeat’s stumble, he prays that perhaps this time will be different. 

But Fate cannot be changed, and blood sprays from the child’s mouth, blooming bright amidst the dreary colors of the storm. Bathed in crimson, emerald tentacles curl from Samuel’s mouth and further burst from his throat. Bloodied tears form and trickle before every semblance of his face is erased in a writhing mass of emerald and mutilated flesh.

One after another, those foolish — brave — young friends of his give their lives for faith, for hope. For salvation. 

Their prayers are answered in blood.

He hates it. He hates these dreams he cannot change. He hates these memories that haunt him still. He hates the faith he cannot shake, the voice that echoes in his dreams. He hates so many, many things. 

But Tulu still screams at the top of his lungs, his voice swallowed by the storm. He still runs up the stairs with Noah scrambling and grasping after him. He still salvages that bloodied, cursed crown from the horrid remains of Samuel, Amos, and Gretchen that are quickly nearly washed away by the rain. He still grits his teeth and bears the weight of that crown — that burden, bloodied and gory — upon his head. 

Because such was his dream. Because such was his fate. 

Only when the metal kisses his skin, the cold chilling his scalp, does he feel it. There, buried and nearly lost amongst the presence of something Other, is someone familiar. Small, weak — like a firefly nestled beneath the cycling beam of the lighthouse. Easily missed, easily overlooked. But Tulu knows the weight of this crown — he knows the blood upon its metal and the sound of its call. You are not the crown, but you are there, within it. 

There’s comfort to be had in that, perhaps. 

A gentleness that flows from the shadows of the metal into him that he is unaccustomed to as he floats through the dream. You stay with him, even as the storm ceases and his people return. You remain, even as they place him upon that damnable throne and the days slip into years between his slumber. You remain, unchanging and gentle, even as Noah ages beside him with every blink of his eyes. 

An ache grows in his chest, cold and gaping. Bottomless. But still he feels you, that warmth you try to seep from the crown into his small form to fill the gaps. It’s not enough. But it means something, still. 

It is only after he stands in the darkened doorway of Noah’s home, a small pouch of treats pressed into his hands by Noah’s wife, tears still streaming down her face, that he feels the tendrils of the dream shake. The delicate thread connecting you to him thins, twisting as if strained. It’s ending. The dream is finally ending. The priestess calls his name, all but beckoning and grasping at him to drag him back to the throne. But he still lingers in that doorway as if trapped, his gaze on the lifeless form of Noah upon the bed and the way his wife curves a weeping willow over him. Her delicate hands grasp at his calloused ones as she bows her head as if in prayer. 

Idly, Tulu wonders when exactly did he close his eyes to the way Noah’s hands outgrew his own. He knew Noah aged, just as everyone else did — just like all mortals are supposed to. 

Tulu stands in that mourning doorway, unchanged since that day in the storm — his frame too thin and his shoulders too small for the burden crowned upon his head. 

Tulu turns away, the warmth of you shatters, and the dream collapses. 

But the priestess begs for him once more and the dream shudders. 

Tulu turns away from Noah’s corpse, from Noah’s wife, and the cozy little home Noah had built with his own hands that Tulu knew from countless cherished tales like the back of his hand. 

He wakes slowly. 

Upon his head, the crown gleams in the morning light, cold and devoid of comfort or warmth — just as it should. 

It takes longer than he would like to untangle himself from the Aequor limbs that had coiled and twisted themselves around him like a sinner’s chains in a lakebed. But he crawls from the bed, scowling all the while. A pressure lingers upon his shoulders and nestles in his chest — a weight he can’t quite place. It unsettles him. Tulu ignores it, as he does so many things, and slips silently from his room. 

Miryam will no doubt come to pay her respects to him — too noisy and devout by far. Despite the many hours he lost to his slumber, he could still track when she would come. Religion requires time set aside for devotionals and Miryam was nothing if not fervent in her devotion. She knows his sleep schedule almost by heart and, knowing he would wake around this time, she would no doubt come to him. It would be best if he made himself scarce now. 

Tulu flees to the one place he knows she will at least hesitate before gracing the doorstep — your room. 

He's dreaming again. 

Resignation taints the edges of his emotions. He doesn’t recall falling asleep. He should have been on his way to your room, to burrow under those thick, fluffy blankets and while away the remaining hours of the day in quiet peace. He should have been curled up in the corner of your bed, bundled up as he watched students bustle to and fro outside your window. He should have been in the sole quiet shelter he carved for himself away from dreams and burdens. 

With a sigh, Tulu lets the edges of the dream twist around him. There’s chaos in this space, here at the edge of dreams where colors and noise blur into dizzying shapes — the place beyond a normal mortal’s reach. A voice, muted and distant hums at the back of his mind, too invasive to be friendly as it needles under his skin. He doesn’t bother trying to parse what it’s trying to say; he gave up long, long ago. He simply waits for the chaos of the realm to collapse in on itself enough to break the edges of a dream, to pull him once more into a vision he cannot change. 

But there's something else beside him in the chaos of noise. Soft and subtle, foreign in this alien sea he has grown so accustomed to drowning in.

A light burning silver blazes in the swirling colors like a comet struggling against the gravitational pull of a giant star. He sees it flicker and wane, sees it surge in a brilliance of silver before it wavers and dims again, like a foolish cycle. A firefly struggling in a monsoon rain, brave yet fragile.

It's you.

He would recognize that silver hue of yours — that gentle warmth, that guiding light — anywhere. A beacon, a comfort, a friend, a fool. 

Tulu plucks you from the sea of dreams too old and powerful for you to swim and linger in.  He feels the confusion that ripples off the edges of your light, the way panic tinges the edges of the silver into a burning white. Carefully, he cradles your consciousness close, basking in the familiar warmth of your company. You settle against him, quieting once you recognize him. Idly, he wonders what he feels like to you in this dream, so close to the edges of reality. Do you still recognize him as himself, or is he overshadowed by the crown upon his head and the tether tying his soul to something Other? 

Your light dims a fraction the longer he holds you, a firefly battered and weary in his palm. 

Tulu supposes it doesn’t matter what you see him as here. It’s a dream. Perhaps you’ll forget. 

He weaves the chaos and noise into something more stable, darkness bleeding like ink from his fingertips. Carefully, gently, he guides you back to shallow shores, where dreams are contained and harmless things. He guides you back into the gentle embrace of a black, empty dream and slowly pulls you up with him to the surface. 

Sleep washes from him effortlessly, smooth as water off his Aequor limbs. There's a soft bed beneath him, pillows and blankets piled high like a nest. A bed. He’s in a bed, warm and bundled. Tulu shifts, Aequor limbs coiling around the pillows as he rises. 

Across the room, he sees your slumped form as you lay rousing with a groan from your sleep at a desk. 

“You—”

His voice is hardened, a scowl upon his lips. How many times has he told you not to carelessly approach him while he sleeps? Do you not care for your safety? Do you not realize how dangerous it is for a feeble mortal like yourself to glimpse even a shadow of a God’s dream? 

The words boil up his throat and they taste of blood — of salt water and blood splayed across the altar. 

But they die upon his lips, dissipating to sea foam as he catches sight of the framed picture on the wall above your head. Even from across the room, he recognizes your figure — one arm slung over the shoulders of a silver haired girl, Ramona, as you flash the camera a wide grin. He can almost hear the sound of your laugh when the picture was taken, the way your eyes gleam with pure joy and how honest you are, right down to your posture. 

He doesn’t have a photo of you upon his wall. 

Tulu’s gaze drifts down as you groan and slowly push yourself up off the desk. He sees little trinkets decorating it. A small train car, an old coin, a rusted key, a pendant with a chain that gleams white gold in the faint light. Gifts. Memories. They are not his. 

This is your room. 

Tulu is quiet and still as you mutter something under your breath and rub the back of your neck. He does not make a single sound, but you must feel the weight of his gaze on your back. You turn, still half groggy as you rub a kink out of your neck, “Tulu?” 

He does not answer you right away, instead his gaze lingers on your face. Searching. Waiting. Nothing happens, aside from the way you furrow your brows at him. You’re fine. You’re safe. Tulu casts a glance at one of his Aequor limbs, the green hues shimmering between soft seafoam and a deeper emerald as the light filters over them from the window. He closes his eyes and takes a breath. 

He still tastes blood on the back of his tongue. But it’s not yours, and that’s what matters for now. “My apologies. You were pulled in because of me.”

You tilt your head and roll your shoulders, stretching. “I honestly didn’t see you bundled up over there. You were buried pretty deep,” you chuckle. 

Silence settles, gentle but strained in a way Tulu feels like oil against his skin. He opens his eyes, quiet as deep waters as he remains half buried in blankets upon your bed. You’ve stood and have turned your back to him, sorting through paperwork you fell asleep on. Homework and reports, he assumes. That’s not what catches his attention. 

It’s you. 

It’s the hue that lingers around the silver of your soul — the colors he sees through the crown’s eyes. There’s exhaustion lining the edges of it, a film that mutes all colors. Understandable, considering you were pulled into two of his dreams in short succession. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep while he waited for you to return, but he did. You’ve always been sensitive to awakeners, and his pull is stronger than most. 

But beneath the muted color of exhaustion is something new. Something he can’t ignore. Deep, rolling, seeping into the silver colored core of your soul like ink stains in water. A deep purple that bleeds into crimson and back again. 

You saw. Too much, too little — he isn’t sure. But it was enough. 

But even so, he did not want you to see those days — those green Aequor limbs soaked in the blood of children (his friends…) that now surround him, the remains that the storm couldn’t fully wash away, the empty days that followed, the silence between dreams, the loss as time slipped by. 

Tulu closes his eyes to block out the sight and bows his head. 

Of all the things for you to see. Of all the moments in his past. 

He is not ashamed of his choices, nor is he capable of regretting the burden he carries. 

You are too kind by far. 

“Tulu?”

He knows such sights are not easy to bear (but he carries them all the same because there was never any other choice). 

Your gentle voice pulls him from his thoughts and he opens his eyes to see you hovering near the edge of your bed. Your brow is furrowed in worry as your hand hovers in the air, just shy of brushing against the blanket still hanging off his shoulders. “Are you alright?” 

When was the last time someone asked him that, genuine and kind? Was there ever a time? Back before the crown claimed him, before even the temple plucked him up to be reared for something Other? Had there ever been someone who needlessly fretted and worried over him? 

He can’t recall. He never dreamed of them. Perhaps it really, truly never happened. 

Tulu reaches out, his hand lightly brushing yours away. 

You worry too much, he meant to admonish. To remind you that he is not a child, but a God King. 

Instead, his tongue betrays him. “Do you think differently now?” 

You blink, confusion evident as you withdraw your hand. “About what?” 

Tulu presses his lips into a thin line for but a moment. He already caught himself in the net, he might as well let it pull him to the surface. Perhaps it will be different this time. You’ve shared a dream with him, even if only one of his past. It stretched for decades yet flickered by in a blink like light flitting downstream. You’ve glimpsed what it means to be a God King — trapped in the crown, you’ve seen the world from a view no mortal has. You’ve witnessed sacrifices and miracles, salvation and death. Perhaps now your answer will be different. 

Tulu straightens his posture, Aequor limbs twisting in the blankets to frame him like a wreath upon a throne. “Is that all you wish to ask?” 

You straighten, no longer hovering over him as you stand by the edge of the bed. The furrow in your brow deepens and a scowl begins to tug at the corners of your lips. You are quiet.

He presses further because surely, surely you have something to ask of him now. Surely you’ve glimpsed enough of what a god king can provide to answer him now. Surely, surely, surely you will reach for him with purpose, with strings, with intent. “Do you truly have nothing to ask of a God King?” 

A change. Subtle and soft, but devastating like the fracture of ice over a lakebed. Tulu watches as that deep purple hue around your soul shudders and bleeds dark crimson-violet down to the very silver core of your soul. Your expression shifts, your frown pressed into a thin line as you bite your lips. A mist glimmers in your eyes as you regard him. Your hands, always so kind and gentle, curl as you tuck them close to your chest — not in prayer, not to beg, but simply to press as if staunching a wound weeping from your heart. 

“No,” your voice is a fragile, delicate thing nearly lost in the silence of the room. Yet there is a weight to it that lingers, heavy — weeping and bleeding from the sacrifice of others. It rings in his ears. “I don’t need anything.” 

Something nameless and wounded writhes in his chest. It has been there since his first dream and it will remain, suffocating and dying within his chest, until the crown falls bloodied from his corpse. 

You do not reach for Tulu.

He does not ask again. 

[mamuzzy]

I tried to think about more about my Nulls with ASPD blurbs or after a bit more consideration, a bit more broad picture of Cluster B personality disorders (antisocial, borderline, histrionic, narcisisstic), and my inability to separate the Nulls from Kal Skirata when talking about them, and it's not just my bias because I love them with all my heart.

It's because it's all tied together. Kal himself is mentally ill too right from the start. My theory is Kal is on the Cluster B spectrum too.

Narcissisctic spectrum because of the grandiosity of plans, his self-importance of his plans, the savior complex: he has to be of the center of the great plan of rescue of the clones, because this is the only way he can redeem himself of his previous mistakes. Remember when Ordo destroyed the datachips? He wasn't devastated because now there wasn't any means to save the clones from rapid-aging. He was devastated because now HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO KNOW NOW WITH HIMSELF. HE was purposeless. Kind of contradictory that his purpose of his life was about entirely of someone else, but it wasn't entirely selfless. He just can't be a bad guy of his own story, but he has to be a martyr. It won't work without it.

Kal can't be a bad guy. He just can't be a bad guy of his story. If he was, that would mean, EVERYTHING he did in life was wrong, was evil, everything was his fault, was his fault alone, including his parents death (which is insane they died in bombing but there is no logic in survivor's guilt), his fault that he was all alone, his fault that he was abused, his fault that he didn't know better, he fault that his wife and kids left him (kinda yeah) and now his fault that the clones don't have a chance for longer life. He is a bad guy in everyone's story. But it's okay. It's okay. He just have to create another personality, explain himself, why Ordo's is still the perfect little angel in the whole world who can never do wrong to cope the loss, because being angry at him is not an option, he can't be angry at him, angry himnonononononoangrynohecan'tbeangrynothatwouldtriggernonotriggertriggernofuckingtriggerfestbackandfort and move on and find another way to achieve this goal and never give up. <-And there is a nice little bpd mentality for you, mushrooms and gentlefairies. (probably there was a little bit a chanelling here, but I think there is a reason I meowmeow this miserable wet cat)

Personality disorders have symptoms during childhood too, IN FACT most of the reasons that are not genetic, start in during childhood due to societal and environmental causes, parental neglection, abuse, contradicting upbringing, emotional repression, traumas.

We saw the Nulls as children but not too much, but we barely seen anything about their later cadet years we have only shown a few mentions through dialogues, narratives, and because often is from the memories of Kal Skirata, people often dismiss it like Kal says so it must be untrue and ableist.

BUT.

What we actually saw is Kal's childhood and training!!! And traumas often carries through to another generation...

Vode, if you enjoyed my previous blurbs you are going to love my next one about him. Before I actually talk about Nulls and their Favorite Person and another topics like amorality, and aggression, I really should talk about PERSONALITY itself, and I think Kal Skirata is a beautiful guinea pig for that.

[cherryanony]

IN DEFENSE OF ELENA GILBERT: Why Do Yall Hate Emotional Women?

Vampire Diaries - Elena Gilbert pictured doing nothing wrong

HUMBLE BEGINNINGS

I started watching The Vampire Diaries back in 2016, right as it was coming to its long overdue close. To say I was obsessed was an understatement.

I would spend hours, days, WEEKS, consuming fan content, rewatching episodes and scenes over and over agin, discussing stupid plot points and writing descions that were made and throughout all of that one question has always dangled over my head...

Why does everybody hate Elena Gilbert?

Despite The Vampires Diaries being a dark supernatural teen drama filled to the brim with freaks & weirdos, murderers, psychopaths, evil forces and THE ACTUAL LITERAL DEVIL... Elena Gilbert reigns as the most hated character on the show by viewers.

But, why?

Elena Gilbert starts off the show as a 17 year old teenage girl who just experienced some of the craziest trauma any person, let alone TEENAGER, could ever go through. She was in the car with her parents when they died off Wickory Bridge and now suffers from a serious case of survivors guilt, a trait and mo motif she struggles with and must come to terms with throughout the show.

She falls for two vampire brothers who bring nothing but more hell into her life, she finds out she's adopted, her birth mother is a vampire and a piece of shit, her birth father is her insane negligent Uncle John, she's lost more loved ones than one can count over and over again, and she's constantly paranoid and never safe because she's a doppleganger with special blood that many dangerous supernatural creatures want.

"But she's whinyyy and a crybabyyy😩..."

As if one of her friends or family aren't on the brink of death every episode. Elena didn't do enough crying if we're being honest.

Elena is by no means a perfect, innocent character. A lot of people are right about her flaws; she can be very selfish with a what-about-me & and look-at-me-this-isn't-you complex and she's constantly getting away with a lot shit since she's the main character. And a lot people say she never faces any consequences but.... she does.... and it's called...

VAMPIRE!ELENA

THAT'S IT! That's where everyone says her character went completely wrong, her character completely falls apart. But I'd argue that Vampire!Elena is a culmination of all her descions coming back to bite her in the ass.

Throughout S1-3, Elena struggles with survivors guilt. She should've gone off the bridge with her parents. She's depressed, she's moody, she's "whiny" all while feeling like the supposed "love of her life" is trying to "fix her" when she's not ready.

In season 4 episode 10, Elena clearly states that Stefan looks at her like she's a broken toy that needs to be fixed. I could go on a whole rant on what I think Stefan's problems are but to sum it all up — Stefan turned into a vampire at 17 years old — a teenager — and spends his entire vampire life struggling with his heightened personality and his Ripper Gene which led him down a path to losing everyone he's ever loved.

(He killed his own abusive father, lost his best friend due to his own brother who he forced to turn with him and now wants him dead after a wedge is driven between them.)

I say all that to say I get Stefan's character. He's scared and insecure, similar to Elena, to be alone and lose everyone he cares about. However, all of his efforts to better himself and relationships only drives people away. People bring up Damon killing Elena's brother, Jeremy, all the time

(again.. HE WAS WEARING THE GILBERT RING! HE'S FINE! YOU DON'T ACTUALLY GIVE A FUCK ABOUT JEREMY, NOBODY DOES!)

But NOBODY talks about Stefan endangering Jeremy and almost getting him killed by forcing him to continue the Hunter's Mark because he thought Elena being human again would make her be in love with him again. (sorry but that's fucking insane😭😭😭!!)

Stefan wasn't only afraid of losing Elena, he was also afraid of losing her to his brother. All these efforts drove Elena away, right into the arms of the person he wanted to keep her away from.

I think Elena felt as if Stefan was just like everyone else who wanted "the old Elena" back. The person that Elena use to be before the accident that the show alludes to in the first season. But that Elena is dead and gone, she'll never be the same person she was before going off that bridge. Apart of her died that night and again when she went off the bridge for the second time and became a vampire.

Elena struggles with being a vampire and basically dying twice and instead of being supportive Stefan immediately wants to fix and change her. Damon is the only one she feels free and alive with. A statement Elena makes herself throughout the show. Despite the stupid discourse over the Sire Bond, Damon was the one she felt the safest with after that plotline was resolved.

But enough about comparing those brothers, this is about ELENA! You know who she gets compared to..?

KATHERINE

KATHERINE IS A LOSER!

Before you raise your pitchforks, I love Katherine. Great character, great villain, but she's a loser!

People LOVE to compare Katherine and Elena!

"Katherine's such a badass and Elena is a whiny crybaby." But I would argue the opposite.

See Katherine's backstory here, despite everything Katherine's been through, the show makes a point that while, yes, Katherine is a survivor, she's also an avoidant runner. She spends 500 years running from the big bad Klaus and once he fianlly lets her go she continues torture, manipulate, and harrass people.

She continues her streak of only whining and complaining about the life she never had because of the things that happened to her, which... fair!

However, despite being given several chances with a romance with Elijah, a life with her daughter as a mother, all the people she's ever wronged helping her and forgiving her on her death bed, taking over Elena's body and essentially starting over in a new life and even being THE QUEEN OF HELL... it was never enough. Nothing was ever enough for Katherine.

She was given many chances to change, to finally LIVE HER LIFE but she chose to continue down her path of destruction. Which, in my opinion, is fine for her character! LET KATHERINE BE THE SAD AND TRAGIC CHARACTER SHE IS! She doesn't have to be some anti-hero badass.

The contrast of Katherine and Elena, two girls who had their lives and innocence stolen from them at a young age thanks to tragic events out of their control and two vampire brothers, is great and executed as well as TVD writing could do (infamously known for shitty writing and plot holes but I digress).

The pieces to the K/E puzzle were so obviously placed, Katherine who was jealous of Elena living the life she never got, chose the path of selfishness and power, and Elena chose the path of love and regrowth and not letting her past define her.

But viewers missed the big picture. Katherine is a survivor but where did that get her? Dead and unloved. Besides freedom from Klaus, she didn't get a single thing she desired. Not a life with Stefan or Elijah or as a mother with her daughter or as Elena Gilbert or Queen of Hell! No! She lost everything and blamed Elena. SHE LOST! SHE'S A LOSER!

She survived, but she didn't live.

In my opinion, Elena is the real survivor. She didn't let her past consume and lead her to a similar fate as Katherine. She chose to be selfless and to love again after being hurt.

She chose to be alive.

SO BACK TO THE PROMPT....

Why do y'all hate emotional women?

"Elena has experienced more grief than anyone I've ever met." - Sherrif Liz Forbes

Every character has went through a lot and have done similar, if not worst, things as Elena as a result yet she's the most hated character?

There's a pattern of fans hating certain female characters who are more sensitive and cry instead of bury their feelings and just punch a man and suddenly get crowned "Most Badass Female Character". Characters, not just female, expressing their emotions is strong and badass and might inspire audiences to do the same and not keep grief in and become self destructive. It's healthy and natural and makes the character not so one note.

It's not fair to compare Elena's trauma and experiences to other characters (espically not Bonnie, that's topic for a whole other post). But why do other characters get a pass despite being ten times more flawed and problematic?

Why are certain characters able to cry, complain, self destruct, fuck someone over, etc but Elena can't?

Genunine question.. let's discuss...

-*- I wasn't able to fully delve into my thoughts on Elena and certain TVD characters, plot points, theme, etc because this post will be 50 pages long. This is the brief version.

***There will be a part 2 to this post where I delve deeper into the trend of hating characters like Elena.

[bambi-kinos]

About Get Back/Let It Be.

Because I'm been wondering about the changed clipped and cuts from from the original. Both Estates and Paul and Ringo approved it. Do you think Paul and the rest are aware of it? And if they are, why is that? they should know by now that the fandom knows about the original clips. I don't mind the changed parts or that it made it look lighter because the way he said it, that it feels like it saved his life and that it showed his talent but he must be aware more than anyone that some parts of the fandom are saying that he is trying to re-write the history. Or maybe he really did see it they way it shown as more accurate. I mean he was there. What are you thoughts on this. I don't bring Ringo in this because I don't think he knows much + he seem to have left it behind him.

They're definitely aware of the cuts because Peter Jackson had to get approval from all four sides in order to get the documentary on D+. Apple Records is still the owner of the footage, the only thing Disney is doing afaik is licensing the footage and other Beatle products. This is to sell subscriptions to their failure of a streaming service. So I would imagine that 1) Paul and Ringo have watched all the remastered footage in full; Peter said he remastered all of it and 2) they got final say on what went into it, as well as Dhani/Olivia, and Sean Lennon as the executor of John's estate. (Yoko is no longer in the picture, the industry rumors online are saying that she is currently dying of dementia and that Sean has been fully in charge of the estate for a few years now.)

It's also important to think broadly about who the documentary is for. The number of people who are intimate with the Beatles, know the full story about their woes, the people who don't fall for Yoko's bullshit, and the people who have actually listened to the Nagra tapes, is a tiny tiny tiny TINY slice of Beatles fandom. I would even posit that this portion of the audience is only 5,000-10,000, maybe 15,000 people at best. That is a tiny slice of a global audience that numbers in the millions.

Paul and Ringo are completely safe and they know it. They know that their audience is made up of passive normies that believe everything they see without question. If you show a normie Beatle fan a picture of John and Paul gayzing at each other and tell them "these men are heterosexual" they will immediately go "of course they're heterosexual!" And they will not question it further. If you have them listen to a piece of the Nagra tapes, the normie would declare it "boring." These are the types of people who make up 95% of the Beatles global audience. Everyone on the estate side knows this very well which means they have carte blanche to do whatever they want, edit however they want, say whatever they want, and there will be zero (0) appetite to question them.

Just look at the wealth of interviews where Paul says insane shit and the journalist never ever questions him on it! It never occurs to them to question it or investigate further. This is not because they are dumb, it is simply because these people are normies. They passively accept everything they are told and there is no desire whatsoever to act any other way. They would be confused and distressed by anyone who wants to dig deeper.

Why Paul and Ringo and the estates called for certain cuts and edits is unknown and unknowable. We have no idea what they mandated, what they had Peter cut, or why. We also have no idea what Disney made Peter cut to put it on D+. Don't forget that the Beatles are not the only forces at work here. We don't know and will likely never know.

Re: your last sentence, I don't think Ringo has moved on at all. He loves the Beatles and is protective of them as a property. IMO it is more accurate to say that Ringo has grieved for the Beatles and that he let go of his survivor's guilt about the Beatles and John's murder as a part of his recovery from substance abuse. As part of that he finally integrated Beatle Ringo into Richard Starkey and now he can be fully comfortable in his skin as both. But he still loves the Beatles and still cherishes them deeply, he just doesn't get involved in the negative aspects because he's done his time with them. The cruelty, meanness and greed is what he's moved on from.

[arataki-neato]

Man I do not think enough about the fact that Blade destroyed any of the ships Dan Heng sought refuge on

Like man if he had any friends or acquaintances at all that he made during that time, then they're most likely dead for reasons that probably feel a lot like his fault

The survivor's guilt must be insane like no wonder he was hesitant to stay with the Express for too long, no wonder he doesn't want his friends to get involved with his past and didn't bring them with him when he thought he might be going to confront Blade, he's terrified of losing them

[bonefall]

what happens in BB!OOTS? (i really want to know this lol, i've just started reading it)

WELL compared to canon, here's a teaser list of changes;

Hot off the heels of the episodic Po3, OotS is when the plot truly thickens. The change in tone is bridged by Cruel Season, a sort of in-between book.

Dove and Ivy are secretly the children of Poppyfrost and Jayfeather, being raised by Lionblaze and Cinderheart

The Dark Forest has a plan now; they want to replace cats in positions of power with their trainees.

Once they have positions of leadership secured, no one will be able to stop them from worshipping damned spirits in public, and eventually they can usurp StarClan and become the new Gods

To this end, Hawkfrost (the truly diplomatic one between him and Tiger) is pulling together the biggest alliance he can.

Because the Dark Forest is stuffed with cats who have nothing in common, this is an insane amount of work. Cats like Morningstar couldn't be more ideologically opposed to cats like Thistleclaw

Hawkfrost: "I CAN MAKE THIS WORK"

Hawkfrost is a major expansion in BB; his development and eventual redemption is central to the entire arc

Ivypool and Dovewing are both being pressured and mistreated by Father Lionblaze, he is committed to using them for ThunderClan's benefit

Ivy is pushed to spy on the Dark Forest. Dove is pushed to use her powers to benefit ThunderClan

Birchfall, her new mentor, has a unique mindset from being a kit during the Great Journey and meanwhile is fighting Lionblaze constantly

Dove adores her mentor

Ivypaw's waking world mentor is BRIGHTHEART, though they don't bond until eventually Bright is the only one who understands Ivy's survivor's guilt.

And that comes from Antpelt's death now being an accident! It was not known that living souls can kill spirits.

Ivy blames herself for this.

This is a major point in Hawkfrost's turnaround; eventually realizing that this isn't worth it

The Dark Forest is no longer a truly awful place to be. The scenery is just edgy, it can be home if you let it be

It's people like Tigerstar who make it unbearable

The DF Demons do manage to make progress. Firestar is dead by Cruel Season and Bramblestar chooses Thornclaw as his deputy, after demoting Squilf following the secret reveal

So far; they also get Sedgecreek to retire, they'll probably kill Ashfoot, they drown Flametail, attacked Jayfeather, killed Russetfur, and damn near managed to capture all of ShadowClan but Blackstar came around just in time.

ACTUAL accomplishments, not just training.

More trainees have expanded backstories and motivations.

Sol's eclipse from late Po3 is A SHAM. That was the Battle of the False Eclipse, the REAL eclipse is the only night that the DF Demons can fully manifest in the physical plane

And after their plan to take ShadowClan fell apart thanks to Rowanclaw putting together a pep rally for Blackstar, they decide the assault is worth it.

The Great Battle is totally reduxed, including a Scourge/Tigerstar rematch, battle plans, Lizardtail earning Hallowflight as an honor title, and Jayfeather using his powers to summon angels to fight with them

Angel Firestar vs Demon Tigerstar, obviously. A must.

I really gotta compile links at some point, lmao. But that's the basic gist of BB!OotS!

[kassiekole22]

Sam Is The Next Psycho (Fic Concept)

So I've had this theory that Sam ends up turning out like Josh due to the trauma that the night had caused. Let me elaborate:

In the messages between Josh and Dr. Hill, Josh tried to shoot down Dr. Hill's concerns for him by saying he was fine. When Sam is in her interview, the interviewer suggests that she should probably speak to someone (most likely a therapist) and Sam instantly shoots it down by saying she's fine. Now I'm not saying I think it's canon that Sam snaps and turns into a female version of the psycho, but can you imagine a story where she does?

Picture it: After Josh goes missing, she begins to snap. She has now lost three close friends and the guilt of not being able to save any of them is eating her alive. She disappears for a year and nobody hears anything from her again. Then everyone gets a text from an unknown number saying "I'm still here." with directions to Washington mountain.

Assuming it's Josh, the gang goes to find him on the mountain. But instead, they get caught up in several death traps like last year, but more deadly this time. The group figure that Josh has completely gone insane and wanted revenge because they all left him behind. Eventually, they find out that Sam was behind it all and that she has been living in the sanatorium for the year, planning her murder spree.

They also find out that Sam suffers from the same mental state Josh was in before he succumbed to his fate the year prior. She sees hallucinations of Hannah, Beth and Josh — who tell her that she must avenge them. When the survivors try to catch her, she runs to the mine and later Mike and Chris find her where Josh was last seen — in the water. They try to calm her and get her to leave with them but that's when Josh arrives — in his full Wendigo form — and he grabs ahold of Sam.

Whether she dies or suffers the same fate as Josh — I don't know. But I want to hear your thoughts. Would you read something like this?

[melonteee]

First I really would like to thank you for your amazing work, it’s thanks to your videos that I finally kicked myself into catching up on OP. I don’t regret it the slightest, thank you for dragging me back into my life-long mad obsession, it really feels like coming home lmao.

Your Law video in particular really punched me in the guts, your analysis really shed a new light on him for me and now I’m obsessed with him. I was thinking about the potential place of guilt in Law’s quest of avenging Cora, especially survivor’s guilt and it's something that is worth mentioning I think. I noticed that Law blames himself a lot in his flashback, saying at several occasions that Cora’s been hurt because of him, and also in the light novel, where he loses himself in “what if”, where guilt eats him alive to the point of having nightmares and even telling himself than if he hadn’t met Cora then Cora would still be alive. That’s such a sad thing to think.

For survivors who suffer from this kind of ptsd, the mere fact of being alive is a constant source of guilt and anxiety. Law probably doesn’t feel worthy of living over the sacrifice of Cora, feels responsible for his death and overly blames his whole existence for it. His already existing feelings of worthlessness (induced by Doffy’s teaching methods, the internalized rejection due to amber lead and the emotional neglect he suffered from) and this overwhelming guilt definitely feed into each other in a vicious circle. This leads him to this need of constantly trying to make sense of his survival and his existence, like trying to pay penance and justify being alive. This is why he came to overburdening himself with the responsibility of avenging Cora’s death, and why he was so self-destructive while doing so. Because there’s also a strong process of identification to the deceased, as a coping mechanism. The survivors have this need to mirror the suffering the deceased went through, it’s a way for them to feel closer to the dead, like if they want to join them in death. It’s the survivor’s attempt to regain his own identity and to reduce the guilt and the psychological distress. I can definitely see that in Law, in how he made Corazon his whole identity, and how he was very willing to die to achieve his quest. There’s definitely a martyr complex going on there. He launched his whole-ass plan at 26 years old, same age Cora died, and I refuse to believe this is a coincidence. It's like he was forbidding himself to live longer than Cora did. And to think that he had all this simmering in him for basically half of his life...that's insane.

Anyway to me this guilt plays a lot in Law’s dedication to Cora and his obsession in avenging him. I also think about how he felt responsible for dragging Luffy into his mess and how he was willing to die as a penance. For me it is also one of the things that definitively separate Law from Doffy on a fundamental level. Because Doffy never has shown the slightest amount of guilt for everything he did, and while he might feel regrets for having killed his brother, regrets are different than remorses.

I’m sorry that was a long one. Told you I was obsessed. I hope the read was interesting anyway!

This is an amazing read anon! I don't have much else to say other than I totally agree! Law's character totally explores survivor's guilt, even if not said outright. It hits double hard considering not ONLY has he gotten this guilt from Corazon dying, but from being the ONLY survivor of Flevance town as well.

Robin was similar in this case, thinking her life was somewhat expendable and 'allowing' herself to die. The only thing is, Robin very much DIDN'T want to, she just saw no way to be ABLE to live. Her mother told her she must live, and Robin only found the will to KEEP living and being ALLOWED to live due to the Strawhats.

Law, on the other hand, was seemingly ready to die from the get go. At 10, he accepted his death from white lead poisoning - expecting to die at 13. Then, after Corazon saved him, Law fully expected to die at 26 with his fight against Doflamingo.

Law has never been able to grasp his own life in his hands, it feels as if he's had this idea he SHOULDN'T be alive and - since he IS alive - he must be alive for SOMETHING. Which is why when Sengoku tells him that ALL Corazon would want is for Law to LIVE, the way LAW wants, it was a big thing for Law!

Law's never had the thought that maybe he can just...exist. Maybe he doesn't need to be alive for a reason. There's truly an aspect of survivor's guilt in such an idea.

BUT now, thanks to Luffy and the people around him, Law's managed to break away from this line of thought. Law is truly starting to live for himself now, and it's wonderful to see!

[nights-flying-fox]

Deep (Purple) Thoughts (and Realizations)

◇ Click here to read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 ◇

Chapter 5: Talk It Out Donnie shares some information.

Word Count: 1743 | CW: manipulation (kind of??), self blaming (not donnie tho), mentions of genocide, survivor's guilt

(if you think i should add something plz tell me)

 

 Controlling the Technodrome was an exciting idea at first. Donatello Hamato, the first person to fly a spaceship! His dreams from childhood were about to become real. Then he had discovered how disgusting it was. Icky, slimy, alive. The texture on its own made Donnie nauseous. But he could do it, for he was a genius, and this must not stop him. Not when he had said he could. Not when his family’s lives were on the stake. So, he had forced himself. With Mikey’s support the situation being a bit bearable. With every step it got worse. He had to use himself, not just his hands.

 So, he let himself fall into the spaceship.

 At first it felt as if he was being captured. Technodrome’s parts holding him, becoming a part of him. Then he had gasped. Connected. He had control. He knew everything! He could use it, protect his family and be powerful! He had knowledge!

 With ease he controlled the Technodrome. He let it move according to the plan, protected Mikey. He knew why he was there and what he could do. But he wanted more. He could do more. He wasn’t just Donnie, he was also a spaceship. He was a genius with power and knowledge.

 Donnie looked at the ground. “Except knowledge isn’t always good, it turns out.” He spoke. “Not when you can see what the Krang did.”

 The silence felt too long, too heavy. He knew his family were giving him time, he appreciated it. And he wanted to tell them what happened. It was just hard. He felt his hand being squeezed. Raph smiled at him, supportive. Donnie took a deep breath.

 “During my time connected with Technodrome I felt invincible. I didn’t care about what I learned. I... I even could understand why Krang wanted power.” He didn’t want to admit it. But he didn’t want to lie. It was what had happened, what scared him. “Afterwards it changed. Everything I knew, it was terrible. The planets they had taken over, the wars... I am glad we stopped them.” He didn’t want to get into the details. Not wanting to talk about how Technodrome was a corrupted thing, alive.

 “Donnie...” He heard April whisper.

 Before she could continue, he talked again. “The spaceship didn’t whisper or talk like in the horror movies. But it seemed to try control me too.”

 “Control you?” Raph asked.

 “It wanted me to join them.” Donnie replied. “At least that’s my guess.”

 Another silence. He looked at them. Raph looking at him with understanding eyes, Mikey seemed to be worried, and Leo looked at him with wide eyes. Horror, guilt.

 “Don’t blame yourself dumdum.” Donnie warned. He knew his twin well enough to stop him spiraling into self-hate. And not because they’d comfort each other when they had these moments of heavy guilt or self-hate at times.

 “I shouldn’t have asked you to do something like that without knowing what exactly was it.” Leo said. “I am sorry Donnie.”

 “Don’t.” He cut him off. “I wanted to do that anyway. It was an efficient information against the Krang as well.”

 “You learned about their genocides.” Leo pointed out.

 “Exactly. And that’s why what you did was insane, reminder.” Donnie glared at him.

 Leo huffed. “Can’t even apologize and have a heartfelt moment without being accused with your past decisions.”

 Donnie grabbed the pillow he was sitting on and threw it on his face. Leo yelped, “Hey!”

 “You deserved it, idiot.”

 “Rude.”

 Suddenly Donnie was pulled into a side hug. He didn’t need to look to know it was Rapha. The big guy had that emotional look on his face. “Raph gets it, and he is very proud of you sharing this.”

 “Thanks Raph.” Donnie said, relaxing in the hug a bit. He was still feeling the nervousness from remembering everything, but he didn’t mind Raph’s hug. It was comforting. Then he decided to ask something he was wondering for a long time, hopping it wouldn’t hurt Raph now. “When you were... you know... was it like that too?”

 Raph took a deep breath. “Kind of?” He replied. Then voice a little quieter, and yet bravely he explained. “I didn’t see what you did see, at least not during my time like that, but my mind was empty and all I felt was needing power and accomplishing my mission.”

 That was enough for what he wanted to know. Donnie decided to not ask anything else. “I’m sorry big guy.”

 “It is fine.” He said. “Genuinely, I appreciate everything guys. You helped me a lot in the past weeks.”

 It was true. Raph, unlike Donnie, had accepted help. Had admitted remembering parts of his time under Krang’s control, and that he had nightmares often. Raph didn’t want to tell them everything about that time, but he had shared enough for them to understand. Enough to get help. Maybe Donnie should’ve done the same.

 “Is there anything we can do to help you Donnie?” Raph asked.

 He still could, actually. “I...” He began, whispering. “...I don’t have nightmares but... there are times I fear I will feel like that again.” He admitted. “I can’t sleep.”

 “So, this is why you spent hours awake during our turtle pile.” Raph realized.

 Donnie nodded. Okay, end of the emotional stuff, right? He didn’t want to go into more details anyway. “That’s all from me. So, uh, we can move on?”

 “You are terrible at this.” April shook her head with a smile. “But we can work on it. Right, Mikey?”

 Mikey was uncharacteristically quiet. When all eyes were on him, he blinked confusedly, “Sorry, I was thinking something.”

 “Something?” April raised a brow.

 “Mhmm.” He was still fidgeting.

 Nobody was going to let it slip, Donnie knew that. He was proven right when Raph smiled softly at Mikey, “Want to join to hug?”

 Mikey looked at him with big eyes before nodding. As Mikey wrapped his arms around them, Donnie noticed his arms trembling slightly. “Is it your arms?” He questioned.

 “No.” He replied.

 “What’s wrong, big guy?” Raph asked softly.

 Quiet. Then, “I should’ve done more.”

 “What?”

 Mikey snuggled more towards Raph, “I should’ve done more to help. Then none of you would’ve ended up this hurt.”

 Donnie looked at Raph, confused. Raph looked back him with surprise. Before any of them could say anything though, Leo talked. “Mikey, what the shell are you talkin’ about? You literally broke some science law stuff to save my tail that day.”

 Mikey turned slightly to look at Leo, “But I didn’t do anything like you did.” He said. “Raph got everyone safe, Donnie controlled a spaceship, April, Dad and Junior got Krang Sister, and you stopped Krang Prime!”

 Everyone looked at him confused. “Mikey, you realize that without you I could have ended up be dead, right? Heck, we all would be, considering it is your future version who sent Junior back in time.” Leo said. “You even threw a freaking building at Krang.”

 “...It still doesn’t feel enough.” Mikey whispered. “I am sorry, it doesn’t make any sense.”

 “Actually, it does.” April interrupted. She turned to Shelldon who was watching them all silently the whole time. “I am not sure, but wasn’t there something about feeling bad for not going through something others did?”

 Shelldon was quick to answer, Donnie feeling proud at how fast Shelldon could gain information on situations like this. “The closest match seems to be survivor’s guilt.” He answered. “Survivor guilt or survivor's guilt is a mental condition that occurs when a person believes they have done something wrong by surviving a traumatic or tragic event when others did not.” He explained, reading an article he found. “Survivor’s guilt is a response to an event in which someone else experienced loss, but you did not. While the name implies this to be a response to the loss of life, it could also be the loss of property, health, identity or a number of other things that are important to people, is another definition from a different a source.” He added.

 “Close enough, thanks Shelldon.” April turned back to Mikey. “Maybe it’s something like this?”

 “Oh. How didn’t I think of this?” Mikey questioned with surprise.

 “It’s okay, even Doctor Feelings can forget details.” Raph tried to reassure him.

 “That’s why he should take a break.” Leo said. Then he proceeded to join the hug. “And you too. You did amazing back there, Mike. Don’t let your thoughts deceive you.”

 “As an exception, I have to agree with him.” Donnie nodded. “You were very brave back there, Angelo.”

 “Thanks guys.” Mikey smiled with teary eyes. “You are the best.”

 April joined the hug as well, “So are you.”

 Donnie was sure things were already better. Now only if his dumdum twin opened up too—

 “Hey, Raph, if you don’t mind me asking,” Leo suddenly broke the comforting silence. “When you answered Donnie’s question… Is there something you haven’t told us?”

 Donnie turned to Raph. If Leo suspected of something, it was worth to follow his lead. He was a good observer. Raph avoided to look at them, so it should be true that Leo was right.

 “It isn’t that important.” He shrugged it off.

 “Are you sure? You seem to be stressed about it.” April said, “You know you can tell it to us if it bothers you.”

 Raph sighed, “I don’t wanna burden you guys with that. Really, I can handle it.”

 “Okay… but don’t burden yourself.” Mikey reminded. “If it we can, we will help. Just tell us.”

 “Thanks for the support, Mikey.” Raph smiled genuinely.

 Mikey hugged him tighter as a response.

 Donnie watched as Raph looked at the ceiling. He was considering. Donnie knew Raph would see nightmares that wouldn’t let him sleep. Raph was no night owl, it troubled him a lot. Even if he had tried to hide it, it would have been obvious. But Donnie had never thought there being another possible reason keeping him awake.

 He held his hand and squeezed. A silent support, a reminder that they were here. Something the siblings would do when one of them was having a bad day and not being able to talk. Or when the world would become too loud for words. Or just when they wanted to remind each other they were by each other’s side without telling it.

 After a moment, Raph squeezed back.

[bbnibini]

I saw your tags in the Solomon post about his pact with Asmodeus tbh I agree with you maybe because I played the old game and know how cruel demons were shown at the start before they started overhauling the dialogue.

It wasn't until the brothers realized MC is related to Lilith so they started becoming nicer too. I just think it's unfair to put these characters in a box and expect them to act consistently that's called caricature not characterization but hey it's just my opinion.

Hi there! Solomon seems to be even more of a polarising character than Belphie was even if the latter committed an actual murder while the former hadn't done anything as severe (for now...jk lol).

Joking aside, it's completely valid to like and dislike a character. And I can totally see your point. I guess your opinion on Solomon changes depending on how long you had known him or how far you are in the story. Sometimes it doesn't even have a reason at all and that's valid too. It always amazes me how we interpet scenes so differently. Like for example, the current lesson (lesson 17).

In my eyes, the vulnerability he had shown in the bar/tavern was NOT intended. He had even insisted numerous times that we should forget everything that he said. That it was shameful he had even reacted that way. That he was being emotional. He was not in his right mind and it's shameful and disgusting and he should have never acted like that. This is the same man who said that he couldn't stand the thought of being hated by MC, so I think he must have reacted so strongly because this is a rare chance we see him at his weakest point: his true self. Being out in the open to someone who he wants to be loved by so badly TERRIFIES HIM. A lot of unexplored self-loathing in this man that's for sure. He even said you can call him insane because emotions had never been a factor in his decision making process. He's usually very emotionally intelligent and composed but your involvement. Your existence is beginning to shake his values. Because in the end, that air of confidence. Superiority. Magical prowess are years of building up defences against others from SEEING THE REAL HIM. I really like how the person I RB'd the blog from worded it. He's trying, but he's not perfect. He's human. He's hurt but in the cruel world he lived in all his life, he only had himself to rely on.

And there's something tragically poetic about that. Could his desire to make a pact with Lucifer be because he sees Lucifer as a "what-if" version of himself that had fallen from grace WITH people who loved him and believed in him? That if he gains Lucifer's trust, he would also be healing a part of himself who never had the chance nor the privilege to connect with others? If you recall in one of his SSR cards (the Comiket one forgot the name), the Lord of Corruption is his favourite character (possibly because he relates to the Lord of Corruption the most?), and it's been shown in the game a few times how he and Lucifer are comparable to each other (the Cyber event, TSL quiz battle, etc).

He seems to really be clinging into his humanity despite being isolated and even scorned by humanity itself at some point. Is it a saviour complex? Survivor's guilt? Either way, Solomon had been through a lot and he didn't seem to have a reliable guardian to rely on which is why he was acting like that. A stark contrast to how he and Diavolo were treated by Barbatos when his role in their lives had obvious parallels.

That's what's bothering me too. If Barbatos made Solomon "the way he is", then why is he so hostile towards him compared to the guilt and subservience he exhibits with Diavolo? Is it because like Asmodeus, he was also tricked into a pact(highly doubt this tbh unless that's actually the reason for Barbatos' deep disdain towards him? Because he had once treated Solomon with trust and compassion until it had been broken at some point)? Or could it be something deeper than that? A blight to the Fountain of Knowledge? Some forbidden boundaries that Solomon had crossed?

In my case, I have a considerable amount of background knowledge on him based on his "real life counterpart" before Solmare retconned it :'), and it has guided me surprisingly well (almost too well) in understanding him. King Solomon in the Bible had many enemies. But he is also kind and wise and benevolent and fickle and lustful and scheming. Loved by his people. Even given a blessed name by God. He had 700 wives and 300 concubines. He was a player, a fool in love, but for some reason, despite it all only had one named heir and had only one official wife, and when his actual heir had even taken over the throne, the United Kingdom of Israel was close to collapsing...which is weird because he's supposed to be wise and discerning. He could have totally predicted that from happening by defying God's word but kept on building pagan temples and marrying foreign wives anyway (despite how seemingly loyal he is to Naamah??). It's almost as if he wanted it to fall.

Sorry if I rambled too much lol. For me personally I don't really care if you like him or not. I think it's good they're trying to flesh him out although I have very very mixed feelings about them abandoning what they already worked on for his character in the OG. I do want Solmare to at least give us an option to side with him by our own terms. Not as blindly as the limited options they sometimes offer. (Ex. Okay, I'm on your side but can we please deal with this with more heart and consideration? AND HUMAN DECENCY? Not everyone is out there to get you and not all demonic transactions have to be heartless and calculating. Do you want a hug? :( )

EDIT: Idk why people are still liking this but tl;dr - Solomon was morally grey in the original source/Biblical King Solomon already so him being morally grey here should be no surprise. The entire cast is morally grey (except Luke probably). They're demons. You can hate on a character, but you should not bring it to an extent where you're already hurting a real live person for differing opinions.

[deemee-ed]

Screaming over Maxwell's character arc because I am going insane (+Wilson mentioned because I physically can't ignore him)

oh my god I love Maxwell so damn much y'all, I hate him and I make fun of him constantly but MAN do I love this ugly fuck.

I was playing DST a few hours ago and I was reading all the new lines I had unlocked in the scrapbook, and then I saw this one from Maxwell talking about gold, it was like "I used to care about this once" or something like that, I don't remember

Y'ALL.... Y'ALL......... THIS GUY......

FIRST we see him as the enemy, the bad guy, the villain that tricked the protagonists to listen to him and trapped them all in an eternal hell

THEN Wilson saves him (and I'm just gonna say Wilson because I'm pretty sure he's the only one that canonically gets to the throne???) and it turns out he's just a selfish miserable guy. Not that great of a person, but certainly not a villain.

THEN he's finally free from the throne, and the Cyclum comic (aka one of my favorite pieces of lore) happens. He lost it all. The life he had, gone. The reign he built, lost. He's a survivor now. Doomed like everyone else. And Wilson knows this. So he offers him help. And they have to team up against a common enemy.

The two enemies we've seen since the very beginning, now forced to be allies.

Now, I know Klei never showed us the team forming (except of course for the Cyclum comic), so we don't know what happened exactly between the survivors and Maxwell. But c'mon. I dare to imagine that it must have been terribly awkward. ESPECIALLY for Maxwell. He's suddenly surrounded by the people he used to torture just a few weeks earlier. And now they're supposed to help each others.

BUT WHAT WE DO KNOW FROM THIS ANIMATION, IS THAT MAXWELL DID GET ACCEPTED BY THE TEAM, EVEN WILSON ACCEPTED HIM OH MY GOD

AND NOW HE'S STILL ACTING LIKE A SNOB, SAYING STUFF LIKE "I can't believe I'm reduced to this.", BUT THEN HE ALSO HAS THIS CONSTANT SENSE OF GUILT OVER HIM, LIKE WHEN HE SAYS HE'S SORRY FOR HURTING CHARLIE

HE'S SO SELFISH AND DANDY, AND YET HE FEELS SO BAD. HE JUST WANTED TO BE A COOL MAGICIAN, NOT A FREAKING MURDERER. I HATE HIM I HATE HIM BUT HE HAS MY PITY. I JUST WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY

ALSO little theory for the future of his arc:

You know how he has now made an alliance with Charlie? After she offered him a position of power? Yeah, I don't think he accepted it to betray the others. I feel like the guilt he's feeling is too strong to try and hurt them again. Especially Charlie. I believe he "joined" her team just to have some power back, he knows damn well he's too weak to be useful without it. He probably wants to get everyone out of the Constant, ESPECIALLY CHARLIE.

[yolowritter]

In Offense to Wang Fu and Su-Han Part 1: Whinny chicken leg!

Hello there everyone, and welcome to another post where we bash Miraculous characters over the head with a steel chair! Well, their writing in most cases, but Fu is different! If there is one adult in this show that has genuinely almost drove me insane, it's this man! Even Su-Han, I can sort of understand! I hate him just as much, but I kinda get where he's coming from. So today, I've got a rant to explain what role they are supposed to be fulfilling in the show, why both of these "wise mentors" fundamentally fail to do so, and why I personally dislike their characters to the point of seething hatred, comparable only by the kind I feel for Tomoe Tsurugi! I'll get to her and a few other adults I have a bone to pick with in future posts, but nobody, and I mean nobody is safe from me! Today we focus on the analysis of "mentor characters", their intended role in a story, and why Wang Fu and Su-Han make the top-10 list for the worst mentors in fictional history! Anyway, before I start losing my marbles again, let's all make sure we're on the same page when it comes to Fu and his "character" in Miraculous Ladybug.

First off, it's important to give context as to the man's backstory and how exactly he ended up Guardian of the Miraculous! I'll be taking most of this information from Seasons 2 and 3 of the show without naming individual episodes, since everything pretty much blends together for his story. So, in his early life, Fu was born and grew up in a rural village presumably near Tibet, considering he was at some point selected to become a Guardian of the Miraculous by Su-Han and the Order. Now, I will elaborate on this later, but for the record, I will be first when it comes to bashing him and his organization for their short-sighted practices and arbitrary rules. Believe me, I will! But none of what they do absolves Fu of his own failures as a mentor to Ladybug and Chat Noir. Anyway, Fu was selected as a child by the Guardians, a supposed great honor that forced him to abandon his family and home. I don't remember if an exact age was stated in the relevant episodes, but he must have been a very young child at that time. His training was harsh, and Fu was practically considered an outsider, scorned by his fellow trainees and delegated to the duties of a modern-day unpaid intern. Sweeping the floors, general chores, etc.

We have little information on the Order's structure, but it's easy to see how Wang Fu was on the lowest possible rung of the proverbial ladder, even amidst his fellow Guardians-in-training. He was apparently considered a failure yet stayed nonetheless, fulfilling his duties and pushing forward with his training. Even the Grand Master of the Order calls him "whinny chicken leg" and a "failed disciple". As an aside, if Reverse!Fu is the Supreme like people theorize, that's an awesome villain backstory! Point is, Wang Fu very much did not like being a Guardian. Still, it's important to mention that he did his best! there are a lot of reasons as to why the Temple and the Order both Fell, but it's obvious to us that Fu blames himself for that catastrophe even almost two centuries after the fact! He's clearly dedicated to his assigned purpose as a Guardian, and wracked by guilt for his part in the Order's destruction. All in all, Fu is an honorable man who was pushed into a role he never wanted, burdened with responsibility and scorned by all those around him. He is undoubtebly a victim of abuse and the last bastion protecting the entire human race from whomever may decide to use the Miraculous and their godly powers to become an absolute, unstoppable power. Wang Fu is a survivor, striving to keep everyone safe even in the face of fundamental loneliness, and tending to the Kwami as his Masters once did. I honestly very much like his backstory, and admire him for sticking to his own principles instead of misusing the Miraculous for personal gain.

Now let's see why none of this fixes any of his fundamental faults as a mentor to Ladybug and Chat Noir. Notice I said faults, not flaws. Those are different, and present in every character within a story. Flaws are necessary for complexity, building a multi-dimensional and deep character that doesn't end up as a cardboard cutout or a Mary Sue. Even the shows titular protagonists have flaws, a whole mountain of them! And that's very good in my opinion! In fact, Fu's backstory perfectly explains his cautious attitude, borderline paranoia and constant insistences on secrecy. Believe it or not, I actually like that about his character! Unfortunately...Wang fails to actually learn from his experiences, despite how badly they torment him. Guilt wracks every fiber of his being, yet he repeats the exact same mistakes of his own teachers. The result? A young, untrained Guardian left alone in the world, as the last bastion of humanity and desperately fighting to keep the Miraculous away from a madman who wishes to misuse them for his own personal gain! A young girl burdened by a power she never asked for, forced to give up her once-normal life in the service of the Greater Good. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, striving to protect everyone under the guise of Ladybug, and close to being crushed under the weight of responsibility! Sound familiar? I sure hope it does!

In a harrowing twist of irony, every decision and action that Wang Fu makes ultimately dooms his own apprentice to the very same fate that he was once subjected to! Admittedly, some of these choices serve to keep the status quo from a meta perspective, since "the show must go on" and all that. But Fu had both the experience and the years of self-reflection necessary to at least know what not to do when taking two young heroes under his care. And if we take Fu at his own word, he's already "gotten it wrong once before". It irks me that we still don't know what this line means, and I do hope we find out because it could make for an amazing flashback story, but anyway. From this, we know that Fu has had the opportunity to learn from his mistakes. And...to his credit, that isn't entirely false. After all, he does test both Adrien and Marinette, who perform an act of kindness at their own expense without a second thought, and correctly judges them worthy of the responsibility that comes with bearing a Miraculous. But he also makes mistake after mistake, even when red flags should have been raised specifically because Fu himself was on the other side of these very problems once!

Let's go through the basics, shall we? Fu is extremely hands-off when it comes to Ladybug and Chat Noir's fight with Hawkmoth. I obviously understand the need for secrecy, and I'm not expecting a 186 year old man to suit up and fight. Once again, Fu does try, and only picks others because he recognizes his own lack of ability to act as he once did. But after giving the kids time to adjust in Season 1, Fu should have revealed himself to both Ladybug and Chat Noir. The only reason Marinette ever learns he exists in the first place, is because Tikki finds the missing Grimoire and instructs her Holder on how to return it. If the Volpina mess hadn't happened, Fu would have presumably continued to hide away, until eventually deciding that he should step in. But...knowing what we know and seeing how cautious he is, Fu's entire M.O. can be accurately described as too little, too late. This deals mainly with his treatment of Adrien in S3, but also is a general truth. Nothing Fu does to help the kids comes at the right time, despite the fact that he does his best. Sometimes his best just isn't enough, because he never acts in time.

Several points can be made as to how this was necessary, and to act rashly would be a security risk...but to not act and allow problems and uncertainty to fester is the very reason why the Order fell in the first place! Fu had a first-hand experience with being on the receiving end of this treatment from Su-Han and the other Masters. So why does he make the exact same mistake? Why not allow Marinette to inform her partner that they have a safety net, and there exists someone who they can go to for help and advice? Mind you, Ladybug feels that she can't tell Chat Noir, and not from a place of safety concerns. Fu has secrets, and it simply isn't her place to tell without his permission. Marinette doesn't do anything wrong here, it's Fu who places the kids in a bad situation that breeds mistrust. Look what this evolves into! An entire Season-long arc with Adrien feeling like he isn't wanted anymore, to the point where he willingly gives up his position as Ladybug's partner after being kept out of the loop for months by that point! Fu could and should have nipped this problem in the bud immediately, by at the very least sitting down with the two and offering to listen.

Wang Fu is meant to be a mentor. There are many examples in fiction I could use, such as Uncle Iroh or Obi-Wan Kenobi. I won't get into it here, but you know what every proper mentor does? They are there for the student. It is a mentor's sole obligation to nurture and teach their desciple to the best of their ability, to listen to their troubles and guide them through hardships. Sometimes a hands-off approach is necessary to avoid coddling and sheltering a student, therefore making them dependent and turning the mentor into a crutch. But Fu...just doesn't try to teach. There's many ways to wave this away or excuse it with "trauma" and "bad experiences", yet his own hardships at the Temple of the Guardians should be the reason why Fu adamantly refuses to stay out of it! If anything, Wang should be in the thick of it, offering tea and a listening ear to help Adrien deal with the stress Gabriel puts on him! He should be there to guide Marinette through her feelings of insecurity and anxiety, to gently remind her that she's been chosen for a reason, and he has faith in both of them! Fu already has the means to get into close proximity with both Ladybug and Chat Noir, yet never utilizes them to perform even the most basic duties a mentor worth their salt should be! His crippling loneliness and burden of responsibility ought to push him to alleviate those negative emotions from the children under his care, but he never does this! Not once!

Fu only acts when it's absolutely necessary, and by then the damage has arguably been done! It's only a matter of time until Adrien starts feeling like he isn't needed, or until the cracks of the kids' partnership begin to show! As their teacher and instructor, it's Wang's job to help deal with these problems! But evidently, he keeps all the cards close to his chest. He's overly secretive, never provides even the most flimsy excuse of a support system, and fundamentally fails to keep them safe! He is the one who put Marinette and Adrien in mortal danger! It's because of his choice to give them their Miraculous that Adrien has died dozens of times by this point! it's because of him that Marinette is overworked and burdened by the weight of responsibility, and Fu doesn't do the bare minimum to help! He isn't there, only tells Marinette about his secrets when they are absolutely needed, and doesn't allow for Ladybug and Chat Noir to properly co-operate, because Fu's own decisions keep their partnership from being equal in the first place! There is an entire separate rant I could go into here just for how he's been treating Adrien during the show's runtime, but suffice it to say, I am pissed!

Fu is an adult! He is the one responsible for all of Marinette and Adrien's double-life problems, because he's the one who selected them for the role! Despite trying to help, Fu doesn't ever manage to offer even meager guidance, on the account that he doesn't want to! It isn't hard to just tell Ladybug that she or Chat Noir should show up at a certain day and time for a conversation. It isn't hard to ask how the kids are holding up, or how he can help take off some pressure! It isn't hard to be there, but he never is! The only times where Fu actually helps instead of being a glorified "select your powerup" videogame cutscene are when he wants to appease Adrien or needs Marinette's help to translate the Grimoire! Wang never even acknowledges any of the myriad of problems that our protagonists are battling with, even though a five minute conversation with them or even their Kwami could inform him about this! So yes, Wang Fu tries! But in the end, Su-Han is -and I never thought I would say this- partially right in his assessment of Fu! The man is a coward, because he's scared of admitting his own faults, never mind confronting his guilt and fear! As an adult, and especially a Guardian, he has a responsibility to at the very least prevent the demons that plague him from being passed on to the next generation! Fu could have let the Guardians' faults die with him, yet he passed on every last bit of self-doubt, confusion and weight on the shoulders of the apprentice that he also failed to prepare for her role! Marinette was arguably the one doing more work than Fu, and a far more responsible, respectable, and dedicated Guardian than her pathetic excuse of a Master! And as a truly wise man once said, Do or Do Not! There is no Try!

There's even a really easy way to fix this! In fact, Thomas would have to change nothing about this man's backstory and actions to make him ten times better, and I'm baffled as to why it never crossed his mind! Just...make Fu bitter. He was heckled and borderline abused by Su-Han and the other Masters at the Temple, burdened with a duty he clearly didn't want. And yet...he's the last member of the Order. Every single one of those old mentors are dead, and it's all his fault! Or that's what Wang believes anyway. He blames himself, so he keeps the last relic of the Guardians safe out of guilt, holds onto the great weight that is his duty because there is no one else. Maybe his mistake, the one time he got it wrong, was when Fu had made a friend. A person he trusted, who wormed their way into his good graces by listening to his troubles, by letting the old man slowly begin to open up again. Think a character like Lila for example. This person is a Miraculous Holder, for one reason or the other. There's plenty of historical events to warrant one in the last hundred seventy years. Fu tentatively gives out a Miraculous to an adult, as Su-Han had insisted was good and proper, tries to stick to his teachings and do things by the book. Slowly but surely, he feels less alone, instructs this person in the Old Ways...perhaps considers it's time to retire. But then it's revealed that they've been after the Box all along! They only craved the power of the Miraculous, and Fu was forced to fix his mistake once again! Mind you, this could be done through a vague allusion and a two-minute flashback sequence. Not like Thomas bothered to give us anything else for the Guardians...

Irrespectively of this plotline, Fu is bitter at the time of Origins. He's done his job for almost two centuries, and been repeatedly hunted down for it. The only real reason why he protects the Miraculous anymore are the Kwami themselves, who are his only friends. Then in Origins, he still tests Marinette and Adrien. At the end with Wayzz, he says that he hopes again, for the first time in a while. As for his tendency to never act in time? He purposefuly holds out till the last moment, because he doesn't want to be doing any of this. Maybe he eventually feels guilty for dragging children into this fight, maybe he doesn't share the Guardians' secrets because he hates what their supposed training did to him. Fu is in essence trapped and duty-bound, battered and broken by the many years that have passed by...until Ladybug comes along. A bright girl that reminds him so much of his old self, who Fu hesitantly decides to take on as an apprentice. But he's never taught anyone before. He was widely known as the Temple's failure. How can he, a talentless old man who those great Masters of the Order never once praised...possibly become an instructor? Fu lacks self-confidence, he hates asking Marinette's help because he should be able to translate the Grimoire's metaphors on his own...and he has very little to offer in terms of knowledge. It instantly becomes a story that gives him incredible depth as a man who believes himself unable to help, yet still trying! Fu doesn't hesitate to help because the plot says so, he just doesn't think that he can! Take this in whichever direction you want, it's much better than canon I promise you.

In conclusion, Fu...greatly annoys me. But then again, I suppose there is a reason why he ended up this way. A cowardly, secretive old codger with no ability to look past his own failures Fu may be...but he isn't at fault for what happened to the Guardians themselves. Oh, no no no! That mountain of responsibility goes directly on the shoulders of Su-Han, and his utterly repulsive excuse of an institution! But...this post is getting long, so we'll look at him in part 2! It's coming in the next couple days, but feel free to drop your thoughts below or shoot an ask my way! These posts are meant to open up discussions after all! Anyhow, I'll see you all next time, but until then, Stay Miraculous everyone!

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