#best unreliable narrator

[idkimtiredanddumb]

No because Neil is SUCH. An unreliable narrator but he’s also so convincing and also like confused and missing all these social cues and clues but like I am too??? It’s so easy to get swept up in his head The first time I read aftg I was just nodding along how does he make every decision he makes (most of which are insane) ??? so??? convincingly??? rational??? AND THEN (embarrassingly) the “doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blow you” blew BOTH OF OUR MINDS like upon rereading I was like … that was so terribly obvious and yet. And yet.

[landwriter]

hob gadling being so goddamn normal compared to his anthropomorphic husband, in-laws, and husband's social circle that he circles right back around to being the more sus/shady one OR hob gadling keeps accidentally derailing dream's attempts to be King of Nightmares by horny vibes/going "joke's on you, i'm into it"/"promise?" to any and all threats

Hob isn't normal, is the thing. He's not. He never was. He was smouldering with strangeness and hunger long before his future sister-in-law took one look at him and decided he'd be good for her little brother.

He asked her, once, bit drunk, if that was why she chose him: if she'd heard him forswearing her in the White Horse and looked at him, peered into the contents of his soul, and thought: well, there's one at least as stubborn as my brother - maybe they'll be good for each other. She'd just smiled and waited for Hob to take another sip before saying, "Good? I just thought it would be interesting," and twinkled at him when he sputtered. Hob said older sisters were terrors, and they'd toasted to that.

Whether she'd intended or not, they were good for each other, him and Dream. It took them a little bit to realize, a small handful of centuries holding one another at arm's length for fear of what would be seen any closer. Then they'd crashed together anyways, and it had turned out they were matched not just in that bloody-minded stubbornness to keep a decent thing going, but also in all the intensity they'd tried to smother to do so, the roaring hunger and devotion and need; the both of them strange creatures capable of giving so much and greedy enough to take just as much in kind.

On the outside, though, others see Dream, his distance, his power, the thunder of his voice, and don't see it as the armour it is, the necessary carapace protecting the sort of tender feelings that could scorch the entire earth, because he is a vessel for human emotions that are strong enough to live on in stories and dreams, because he is, in that respect, - and Hob gets choked up about this, if he allows himself to think about it too much - fundamentally more human than him, than all of them, the embodiment of every fantasy and fear and tall tale of men, tending to them each night, taking no rest for himself.

On the outside, others see Hob, his banal humanness, and other humans assume the rest of him is the same, and so do most non-humans, except they're baffled by it, baffled by why he is Dream's husband. So he plays it up, because it's funny, and if they're too incurious or gullible to figure out what lays beneath, then that's alright, because his husband figured it out, and loves him for it, and that's all he needs.

Dream didn't understand at first why Hob acted extra human whenever they mingled with other capital-e Entities and inhuman sorts, but now he finds it so amusing as well that Hob wonders how the gig isn't up from the moment anyone sees his twitching smirk. His husband has a terrible poker face, Hob thinks.

He's much better at pretending. In fact, he's so good at performing the petty normality expected of him that it goes full circle and becomes, somehow, magnetically strange to all the fantastical creatures in his husband's social circle.

He had not realized the heady effect of normal human upon non-humans until the time he had gone to a Samhain 'do in the Underhill, in his formal role as Prince Consort to the Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, first of his name, et cetera, and, rather comfortable with those sort of events by then, which were really not that dissimilar to interdepartmental faculty parties, with all the posturing and alcohol, only far better outfits, had, a bit soused on the fantastic elphin mead, accidentally started talking with a member of the faerie delegation about the football tables. At first he thought he'd committed a faux pas when the faerie just stared at him, slack-jawed, but later that night, he'd found himself surrounded by a cluster of wide-eyed dryads and undine and fae, gratifyingly holding court on why Billy Wright had been such a shite Arsenal manager. Apparently, it was the highlight of the evening.

It also helps grease the wheels of immortal statecraft, which Hob thinks of as something of a secondary benefit to making his husband smile. He would be a fierce bodyguard and soldier for Dream, in a heartbeat, he would curry favour on his behalf with pretty words and eager gladhanding, but what works out best, he's realized, is when important folk approach them to talk shop with Dream, to head it off with warm conversation about things like Tube construction, ABBA, and sausage rolls, until they look thoroughly disconcerted, before gracefully handing them off to his husband.

Whenever the occasion allows it, he'll skip on the finery too (another thing, he thinks, that he only cares about his husband seeing). Once, a baku ambassador, himself arrayed in glorious golden robes that matched his sharp gilt claws, had been so baffled by Hob's appearance on the arm of Dream, in his ratty old jeans and a United jersey he got as a gag gift once (and, on principle, refuses to wear in the Waking) that the chimera had absently agreed with Dream's suggestion for revised quotas on devouring nightmares.

Dream had been so delighted by that victory that he'd pressed Hob up against the front door of their flat in Islington, the moment they got back in, and laid kisses all over the hideous jersey, murmuring that Hob was a fearsome diplomat, and Hob had laughed and said he was only a distraction, then let Dream drag him to the bedroom anyways to thank him for his contribution.

Some see what's underneath, of course, and Hob's just as glad for that too.

The second time they'd had dinner with Crowley and Aziraphale, well past the food and making excellent headway on the rest of the wine, Dream had been called away on urgent business. Hob thought the night would end there, but the moment Dream left, Crowley had leveled an unsober finger of accusation at Hob and said, "Don't think I can't tell what you're doing."

Hob hadn't needed to try and look confused, but then Crowley leaned in and said, conspiratorially and only accidentally hissing a little, "This 'regular bloke' thing, but you're worssse than him, aren't you? Bet you are. Bet anything," and Aziraphale had genuinely emitted a tiny gasp of affront on Hob's behalf, and Hob was too busy laughing to say that he wasn't wrong at all, while Crowley gleefully swiveled around and said "I told you so, angel. S'obvious. Humansss. Not a normal one among 'em."

It was a lovely thing to say, actually, and all too easy for Hob to forget sometimes, being a particularly abnormal human leading a particularly abnormal life. But Crowley knew what he was talking about. He spent far more time with humanity compared to most of the inhuman lot. When Hob had made him promise to keep his secret from the rest of them - humanity's secret, really - and explained why, Crowley had laughed and laughed and laughed. He thinks it's the moment they became proper friends.

Hob isn't normal, is the thing.

But it's fun to don it like ceremonial garb and be an ambassador of humanity twice over: in truth and performance both. It's fun to be exactly what's expected and still disconcert.

And most of all, it's fun to go back home with his husband, to their terribly normal human flat, and curl up together in their terribly normal human bed, and watch Dream's face flush with pride or amusement as he debriefs Hob on what chaos he's wrought this time, intentionally or otherwise, with his terribly normal human presence, and Hob just laughs, then smiles until his face hurts, because Dream is his husband, wholly apart from humanity and still the most human creature Hob has met, and he knows all the ways that Hob feels like both, too.

[tinartss]

on moving out

[shsl-heck]

Thinking about the Chevalier interlude, specifically the inaugural team of Wards. Like in universe, they sell it to this first group of kids (and presumably the rest of the world) as a place for second chances, to find friends and mentors who understand what youre going through, where you can learn to use your powers safely while making good memories. The kids broadly seem to believe in these noble intentions of course, but what really gets me is that I've seen readers buy into it!

"Oh, it's such a tragedy that the Wards program became this awful thing that traumatizes kids even more, and expects them to die for the sake of civilians! It's fallen so short of what it was originally supposed to be!"

No it has not??? The fact that the triumvirate and Hero are saying it has this noble goal doesn't make it true. The Wards was pretty clearly always a way to increase the amount of bodies the prt could throw at threats, and we know this because it was started by the fucking Triumvirate as a part of the Protectorate! Alexandria literally came up with the idea of the Protectorate to legitimize the power of capes, and have a consistent source of heroes Cauldron could throw at problems. That is the whole reason for the PRT/Protectorate existing. So when we have this group of children brought in a subsidiary, there are 2 real options.

1). Cauldron and Alexandria decided they would be really niceys and created this program with no intentions other than helping these kids out.

Or 2). As things got worse, they realized the Protectorate didn't have enough manpower to do what they needed, and so they expanded it to include children (the demographic most prone to triggering). That way, they greatly increase the number of capes who they can send to fight and die as needed, and the ones who do survive their tenure in the Wards will be better trained when it comes time to join the actual Protectorate.

At the risk of sounding conceited, I think the second one is far more likely based on everything we know about Cauldron. Maybe it was originally a little nobler, and the goal was just to create more well trained heroes and cut back on young villains, but there's no way Alexandria, Doc Mom, and Contessa didn't factor in the ability to sacrifice the kid heroes if it improved their chances of success. That was absolutely a perk at minimum.

That's the real tragedy of the inaugural Wards. The kids were lured in with promises of safety, comraderie, and second chances like lambs to the slaughter. All the while, Alexandria and Cauldron knew that many (if not most) of these children would suffer abuse by the prt (like in the case of Reed), die, or face a fate worse than death like poor Mouse Protector. It's horrifying! The idea that they didn't know the danger these kids would be in is literally inconceivable. Especially when one of you is also the head of the prt! They knew, and they didn't care. It improved their chances at the end of the world, and so they did it no matter the cost.

[gentil-minou]

I'm so tired of takes that say Wei Wuxian was absolutely perfect in every way in his first life because yes he was good and so very very good and had the best intentions and saved the others not just because he wanted to but because that was what was good and right.

That was never his fatal flaw though his hubris was that he convinced himself he had to do it all ALONE. That instead of talking to the people who cared about him and working with them, he thought he had to do it alone because he does have a hero complex in that he thinks everything will be fine as long as he's the only one getting hurt. That, combined with the other political machinations, is what led to his downfall. Not his arrogance or his actions, but that he refused to share any of the burden with others.

It's why he and JGY are such excellent foils for each other because as WWX pre resurrection became more and more isolated we saw jgy's social connection and standing get stronger. Then, after the resurrection we see that jgy is almost on his own whole wwx gets the support he needed and actually takes it this time.

Because in his second life he survived because he followed lwj, because he let him help him. They turned the tide of the second siege at burial mounds because the juniors amd the wen remnants helped them, because lwj was there. They took down jgy why because nhs got involved and had witnesses. And guanyin temple succeeded because they all were there not because wwx is a God who never makes mistakes

In his second life he learned he can rely on others and let them help him. That he doesn't have to be alone. That's his character development and without it he'd have never survived

Wei WuXian suddenly murmured, '… Lan Zhan.'

He reached out and grabbed one of Lan WangJi’s sleeves. Lan WangJi had always been beside him. He immediately bent down and whispered, 'I am here.

-

A voice inside of him said, If he catches me, I'll...

He wasn't scared of falling. All these years, he'd fallen many times. If someone was finally there to catch him, it'd be more than wonderful. Hearing Wei WuXian thank him, Lan WangJi's body seemed to freeze for a second. The hand that was about to be laid on Wei WuXian's back paused before it returned. After a moment of silence, Lan WangJi responded, "You are welcome."

Don't take the lessons he learned away from him. Don't make him have to be alone again

[besttropeveershowdown]

The Best Trope Ever Showdown: Round 1, Side A

Time Loop

Propaganda:

it's so fun you can do so much with it!! adding little variations within each cycle as the affected characters try different things, the aftermath of everything after they finally manage to get out of a loop they've been trapped in for years, being able to decide weird little triggers for the loop- it's something you can really just go wild with!

So. Much. Angst. Potential. I just love the slowly losing care for anything they do and just not giving a shit anymore, very good at making funny and angsty things happen.

Unreliable Narrator

No propaganda was submitted.

[yaburnae]

people conveniently like to leave out the bit where nesta tried to go after feyre in acotar when they talk about her not doing anything for the family. the fandom discourse is sooooo funny.

[pickastitch]

ever think about how gem didn't include cleo's accusations in the last session? maybe because ultimately, cleo was right about the mounders' loyalty

[refriedrambles]

Zim's a jealous and petty little shit. There's absolutely no way for him to be friends with someone he subconsciously considers an equal for a long period of time (maybe not the best phrasing here) He absolutely poisoned any friendship he developed with Skoodge. Any win or acknowledgement that Skoodge got that Zim didn't, would eat at him. And it'd only get worse as Zim dug his hole deeper in an attempt to prove himself. The more desperate he got, the more he fell behind, the higher Skoodge seemed to climb. No matter how bad Zim fucked up or who got hurt, Skoodge always managed to climb out it in one piece. Skoodge always managed to complete his task. Skoodge always managed to help someone out no matter what kinda hell he went through. And it killed Zim

He wants the kinda of awe Skoodge gives him but not from Skoodge. Anyone, but Skoodge. He can't take it from Skoodge because they're too similar in his mind. Every time Zim fails, Skoodge succeeds, even though that's not true. Zim bulldozes himself into being an invader, into being assigned a planet in OID 2, but Skoodge, HE WAS ALREADY THERE. Every win Zim got over him seemed only to set him back further. Skoodge, he was actually chosen to be an invader while Zim was demoted to being a food service drone. He was assigned Blorch without having to claw it out of the Tallest's hands. He ACTUALLY CONQUERED A PLANET. And Zim? His motivation was petering out. He couldn't keep believing that if only he proved himself, if only he took over earth, he wouldn't be sent back to Foodcourtia, he wouldn't be sent to trial.

They started from the same place with the same circumstances. The smallest soldiers. But Zim was a leader, Skoodge a follower, a fool begging to be led by the nose. So why him? Why did he always manage to show Zim up? Expose his flaws so effortlessly? He'd almost think it was intentional if he wasn't so dumb. Zim was inventive! Innovative! Skoodge? He couldn't even keep his uniform clean let alone create something.

He can't help but revel in every instance Skoodge gets thrown back down. Shown his place. But at the same time it's disturbing. It shakes him to his very core and he can't figure out why. He could never admit to himself that if the empire is willing to throw even Skoodge away, someone who does everything right, he has no chance of ever being accepted or loved.

[tails-boogie-board]

Sonia and Manic: Constantly calling Sonic bro, mentioning the triplet thing, and reminiscing proudly

Tails: Standing in the back of the van, politely but awkwardly waiting for all hell to break loose when Sonic properly introduces him as L’il bro.

Tbh, Tails doesn't think about it whatsoever, it's not on even on his radar. He and Sonic are brothers and Sonic loves him and Tails knows that more than anything - even if they're too macho and full of teenage pride to say that out loud nowadays.

His own insecurities come from himself and his own perceived worth: his usefulness to keep Sonic toe-to-toe with Eggman; how Sonic views him as an asset and how Tails can improve, he's never satisfied with himself long-term; and Tails desperate desire to prove his worth and be good enough so that Sonic never doubts his lil' bro's competency. (As is tradition, none of this he tells Sonic)

Tails really does idolize his brother and puts him on a high pedestal, problem is that Sonic's never gotten knocked off. So it's grown and grown as the years went by.

But I digress, Tails neither expects nor needs to hear Sonic call him his brother, because it's all unsaid. They've been together thick and thin, through cyclones and thunderstorms and tsunamis and everything else. He's secure in his relationship with Sonic and they were brothers even before Sonic started to talk.

However....

For Manic and Sonia, it's the only connection they have, they need that validation, because otherwise it's just a stranger with their brother's necklace and their mother's love.

[avemstella]

It is sweet on occasion to play the fool.

Furina was born of a small mountain spring, the most unassuming of God King Remus of Remuria's many children. If one were to have asked anyone who knew her back then, who they would have guessed to live the longest of King Remus's progeny, she would have been the last on their list. But as Remuria fell, as all nations who dare to defy the heavens are destined, she alone remained of that damned blood line. She alone remained even as Egeria rebuilt the pieces of Fontaine from the Archon War. Furina alone remained when one of Seven Sovereigns, the Dragon of Water, was reborn into this world—and it was her who reached out and grabbed that little hand.

Neuvillette does not understand why he was born into this world—or who exactly he is. But, that strange woman who walked into his life one day has never lead him astray. So he continues to follow after her until their road ends.

Hey look I managed to get this out on time! Here's almost 25k words of Furina rampant lore speculation that probably is wrong and her found family with baby dragon Neuvillette

[n0brainjustvibes]

always makes me laugh when people are like "wormfic is so bad" because baby I grew up on warrior cats wattpad. I've sunk to lows you couldn't even dream of

[besttropeveershowdown]

The Best Trope Ever Showdown: Round 2, Side A

Ragtag Bunch of Misfits

Propaganda:

Yea misfits wooooo misfits!!! And they're friends :')

Unreliable Narrator

No propaganda was submitted.

[biillys]

oh ohhhhhhh ohhh wait. wait a fucking minute. listen. listen!!!!

flayed!billy and neil having an run-in a few days before The End. flayed!billy not scaring as easily, actually not scaring at all, compared to actual real!billy. turning right back on neil. except the mindflayer has a soft spot for his host becos the mindflayers fucked like that, so instead of just killing neil, the mindflayer decides to play with it's food for a bit.

real!billy doing his Thing and managing to get that one tear out. becos his dad may be a piece of shit but surely, surely, out of everyone, he would be able to figure out something's wrong. that billy's not billy. the desperation and the hope that maybe this is it, maybe this is only option, maybe making him just that little bit stronger. maybe him getting a 'dad, help, please' with a few more tears out before the mindflayer takes over again. but neil's a fucking coward at most and a piss poor excuse of a father at best, so he takes one look at billy crying, begging, and shakes off any doubt's and worry's, and treats him like he always does when billy turns to water under his weight.

he makes his voice harder, his grip tighter. his words crystal fucking clear.

and then flayed!billy is shoving him off, stronger than neil's ever felt him, and he's laughing, but not in a way neil's ever heard him laugh. and then he's turning to walk right out the door, camaro keys in hand, even though neil just grounded him for the entire fourth of july weekend, except he turns around just before he makes it outside, face completely blank and familiar, but neil's never seen this person before in his life, and says 'when billy and i have finished what we started, i'll come back for you.' and then he's gone.

and neil picks himself up from where he was crumpled against the kitchen counter, shakes himself off, and denies everything that just happened in the past 15 minutes. grips the bench to stop his hands from shaking, and promises himself that next time he sees billy, then he'll really let him have it. that just because billy thinks he's old enough to throw his own weight around, doesn't mean he's gonna get away with it under this roof.

except billy never comes home, and then it's the fourth of july, and neil and susan are trying to enjoy a nice dinner at home, a dinner that both their children were meant to be home for but aren't, but at least him and susan are having a lovely night. they enjoy it right up until the phone rings late that night, and then they're speeding to starcourt mall, and there's smoke and flashing lights and fucking military everywhere, and max is distraught, hugging susan like she's the only family she has left, and no one will tell him anything about billy except for a brief 'billy didn't make it, we're sorry for your loss.'

they won't let him identify the body. won't even release the body to be buried. won't tell him why all those people were in the mall after opening hours, what max and her friends were doing there. what started the fire. why there was fucking military clearing the scene. won't even give him a cause of death.

and every single time he closes his eyes, he hears 'when billy and i have finished what we started, i'll come back for you.'

he starts hearing it when his eyes are open, too, when he's trying to put together the funeral. when he tries to go back to normal life, back to his job, where his boss pulls him aside and gives him time off until his current family situation can stop effecting his work, back home, where there's no longer loud music shaking the doors, no car flooring it up the street, no fourth place set at the table for dinner, no shitty attitude and lousy excuses and brave backtalk.

everything's suddenly so fucking quiet.

so he fixes it. overcorrects. takes his sleepless nights and his workless days out on susan, is loud and brash and a constant immovable object. makes sure it's never quiet again. susan kicks him to the curb within a month, threatening police involvement if he doesn't leave quickly and quietly.

so, he leaves.

(then, susan and max leave for the trailer park, becos neil Left. and that's all susan will say on the matter. and then the upside down comes back with a new big bad, and max is right back in the thick of things in a way she never was before, but then suddenly billy's back. billy's alive, and he's back, and he's pulling himself with his bare fucking hands out of the upside fucking down before reaching around and helping her pull herself out and he's covered in blood and black goo and scars and injuries for days and, honestly, she probably doesn't look much better, but he's coughing and bleeding yet his heart's still fucking beating. and they somehow fucking found and saved each other.

and max is sitting by his bedside in hospital after every single surgery, and she keeps him company and puts headphones over his ears to listen to music and picks out the comic books that she knows he likes to read and she does her best to just never mention anything home related.

billy makes it a week after being back from the dead before he asks about neil.

'he left,' she says, because that's all that matters.

and billy fucking remembers. he remembers how hard he fought, how it took everything within him to overpower the mindflayer, even for those brief few seconds. how the only thing on his mind was this is it. this is my only chance. this is all i've got. and he remembers neil's eyes, wide, scared, fearful, but the second billy broke through, the moment billy shed a tear, fucking begged for help, his voice cracking over the word 'dad', neil went from speechless to loud. his eyes going from uncertain to cold. how the one time billy remembers asking his dad for help, probably the first time he's asked his dad for help since he was a kid, neil didn't even take even a moment to think about it. just took one look at him begging and crying, and steamrolled right over him, fucking sentenced him to death. all because he asked for fucking help.

billy closes his eyes and nods, doesn't think he could ever face neil again without falling apart for good.)

[dedicatedfollower467]

something that is probably very obvious about me if you've read a significant portion of my fic and/or fic ideas/wips is that i read Lolita at a formative age

[ha-youwish]

i love writing neku sakuraba with many undiagnosed mental issues