#one of them actively makes the story worse because the authors refuse to give him consequences for his objectively flawed and dangerous

[reel-fear]

Genuinely so curious who Mike thinks is gonna be buying The Cage or the new DCTL GN bc with the way he tweets as far as he's concerned, it's not gonna be:

The queer people he has actively admitted he will never show any representation of in the games.

2. The POC he has actively fought against representing in his franchise. [Who he also mocked for thinking they would be represented in his franchise]

3. The Bendy fandom which has always been concerned with topics of diversity esp in the sense of queer people since its creation. Who he has responded to really poorly esp in regards to the GN.

4. The fans who critique him. [He blocked me for doing so lol]

5. His fans in general who he tweets about like this currently. [He's being vague about why people were mad at him or sent him 'nasty messages' because if you actually looked into why you'd see he was in the wrong. Either way, a very hateful way to speak abt ur own fanbase.]

Reminder while Mike is trash talking his fans he has always treated them rather poorly. The fans who won the fanart contest for Chapter 5 never got their posters actually in game due to it being rushed. Not only was chapter 5 a big slap to the face story wise, but it was literally so rushed he couldn't be bothered to add in the art his fans gave him for his game FOR FREE. [Meatly blames this on a crazy timeline, reminder him and Mike are the literal ceos of this company. The proposal of future updates here is also pretty cruel considering Mike nowadays happily admits he corrupted Chapter 5's source code and therefore literally can't update it At All currently. Because he is a moron]

At least they got to be in Boris and the dark survival, and by that I mean that was the Only game they got to be in so far, isn't that just treating your fans like you love them? Shoving their hard work into a spin off game almost nobody has played or addresses much. [Hell, who knows if with the Lone Wolf rebrand they'll even stay there. In which case they'll be in None of the games, only in the credits of BATIM]

6. The Bendy fans who just generally disagree with him on stuff. Like the new ink demon design where there is literally a public poll showing people generally prefer the old one.

7. The Bendy fans who can see he is actively lying to them. To their fucking faces.

He says this has always been the case, but screenshots and links to tweets regarding the books being canon prove it was not. Does he really think bendy fans are stupid or something? [Unless he's admitting here he lied to Kress when he told her the books were canon which sounds worse!]

8. Anyone who doesn't like the idea of giving money to a guy who laid off tons of employees then afterwards thought it was a great idea to express his anti-union views! Also brag about how good of an employer he was, according to his employees, he was not!

So in summary; Mike is an awful person who has not learned anything from the awful things he did. I will not be purchasing The Cage because, combined with this and his absolute refusal to take any kind of critique or see any differing interpretation of his franchise, I have no reason to think my problems with the franchise will ever be addressed or fixed. I probably will pirate The Cage along with any future Bendy Products [Including the movie] and will do my best to avoid giving it any kind of monetary support. Unless this changes any time soon, I can't see myself making anymore positive Bendy posts soon.

Mike has just managed to make it so hard to speak positively or optimistically of this franchise when he's so willing to broadcast how little he cares about it or its fans. I'm at the point where I refuse to pull any of my punches with my problems with it. What's the point of trying to play nice with my critique when either way the people creating it don't care?

So with this post, I want to invite anyone who feels similarly about the franchise to tell me, make a post or send an ask talking about how all of this makes you feel. It may not change how things are, but genuinely seeing other people share my feelings of anger makes me feel better. It feels nice to see when other people share our same concerns and worries. I'd also love to know if anyone else thinks they'll be avoiding purchasing Bendy products over this.

I'm not forcing anyone to participate in it nor trying to say anyone who doesn't supports mike but genuinely maybe if we can collectively decide to boycott things like the movie, graphic novel and The Cage... It might at least make the bendy devs acknowledge how much they have destroyed their own fandom's faith and trust in them.

The way Mike tweets about his actions like he had no control over why people were mad at him at least proves to me he takes NONE of it back nor regrets it. If you didn't know about his actions and only went off his tweets, you would be led to believe Mike has been needlessly picked apart by fans over things he couldn't control [or in his own words, had his words twisted and taken out of context]. That is not how you speak about your actions if you have actually learned better from them.

anyway, that has been my bendy dev callout post. This is an open invitation to anyone feeling similarly upset about the way the franchise is going to talk about it. It's genuinely nice to see how people feel about this and the more we talk about the more it's likely the bendy devs are forced to address our concerns. I don't think they will but hey, that's why I'm not gonna support them with my money anymore nor am I gonna be nice to them in any content I make critiquing Bendy. I mean I'm also basically making this post just in case anyone asks me Why I feel this way towards to bendy devs/as a way to respond to anyone who thinks I am too harsh in my critique in the future.

As always, it seems the best part of Bendy isn't actually anything about canon but about what the fan's are creating with the ideas Bendy failed to do anything interesting with.

Also the books, the books slap.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I put a sign near my home?

I'm honestly not sure how to title this, but this is what makes the most sense.

Let's start with some background. Me, my husband, and my roommate (all of us are late 20s M) have been stalked by someone online and in person for over a year now, let's call him Xavier. It all started when he was in a pretty nasty breakup, and we hung out with him for about a month and a half to give him support and help him out when needed it. However, he kept asking us to stalk his ex, triggered my husband on multiple occasions after asking him to stop, kept making fun of my roommates appearance, was really mean to my animals, among many other things that I don't really want to get into. I kept justifying his behavior to myself thinking that he was just going through a rough time and needed help, I even talked to him in person on numerous occasions about how he needed to cut it out, but eventually enough was enough.

After about a month of him coming over on weekends, we reached out to Xavier's ex to talk to him, see what was going on and get his side of the story ya know? We told him of all the things we collectively said about him, and apologized for everything since we only had Xavier's info to rely on, and we've been hanging out with his ex ever since because he's a fun guy to be around. We cut Xavier off before we started hanging with his ex, and now we hang out with him at least every two weeks bc again, he's really fun to be around. But Xavier refuses to leave all of us alone. I've warned my friends about him since they've seen Xavier around occasionally, warning them casually in like a "here's what happened to me, just keep an eye out for him, but I'm not gonna stop you if you want to be friends" kind of way.

It just kept getting worse with Xavier, he even shared the small town we live in online when his ex posted a photo of us hanging out, and it feels like he's waiting for any reason to doxx our home. We've even spotted his car around the town we live in, and driving by our house on a few occasions.

Now, Xavier has a fairly large online following, like some thousands of followers, and loves detailing every little aspect of his life online. I was on and off friends with him before he gained a following, but then noticed he got super egotistical and acted as an authority figure on any matter that doesn't involve him. He often talks about me and my husband's life, if we have friends over, or parties, or whatever we might have going on. We have not hung out with him in over a YEAR as well, and he continues to post things about our lives. Reporting his accounts have done nothing (except for getting one account getting taken down on a brand new social media), and I'm unable to involve authorities at this point (and would like to avoid them altogether if possible) because of a lack of proof and not being in "immediate danger".

So here's my question! WIBTA if I put a sign near my house that says " Xavier Sucks "?

My reasoning is, since he posts everything online, he'd definitely take a picture of it and post it, basically telling on himself. There's absolutely no way he wouldn't, he loves being enraged online nowadays. It provides enough proof that he is actively stalking our home, and hopefully loses his accounts so I can finally be free of this. I feel like an asshole especially because of how angry I've been, and since this would give me the confidence to "call him out". I'm also being really bitter and want no trace of his accounts anywhere, and I believe him to be too much of a coward to do anything directly to me or my family in person. I'm just so tired of this and want to be left alone, and really don't know what to do otherwise. So, I'm coming to random strangers on the internet to tell me if I'm an asshole!

What are these acronyms?

[poppydedicant]

The Quarry Verse Expanded

A camp counselor who is quite rowdy, loud, and active, Popshi is the type of person who adores a thrill and encourages others to do the same. Despite this outgoing personality of his, no one really knows much about him on a personal level. His devotion to the dark arts and witchcraft can only be spotted by his strange way of speaking and the subtleties reflected on his expressions and physical appearance. Once the group is stranded for another night in Hackett’s Quarry, Popshi is more than happy to go out exploring with the group, hoping to find any arcane books, runes, or artifacts that can further his studies of witchery and of nature itself. Yet, even though he is in love with the craft, he will not at all welcome the threats that are soon to take over.

SPOILERY SECTIONS INCOMING FOR DETAILS and death mentions for Popshi by the end:

Details Relationships with the group:

Popshi is definitely an asshole, for the most part. Has no filter, likes to tease the possible couples forming, and also likes pushing people to the most dangerous of situations. That last one can backfire for him, especially if his relationship with the others is dangerously low. He can be left to try and save himself when in danger instead of being helped. 

Mostly gay gay homosexual gay. He’s very into the fellow male counselors, but just surface level, for the most part. Like the “want to makeout a little?” type of vibe. He won’t hold back from flirting with them and purposefully making them uncomfortable. He also likes Abi quite a bit cause she’s cute and sweet and intelligent, but he knows him and her could never work because he’s such a bad person overall and he knows she likes Nick. He cares for her enough to steer clear from her path and also minimize the teasing towards her just a bit less. 

Clashes with Kaitlyn because they’re both very similar with how they treat people. He thinks Emma is basic so he doesn’t bother with her much, very rude to her. 

If he has a higher relationship with all of them or most, being accepted despite how hard he is to deal with, he’ll definitely take the lead during the night and ultimately sacrifice himself (in extremely high amounts of fear; hyperventilating, shaking, but standing strong type of way. His shrieks would be horrible to hear cause he’d be panicking and desperately wanting to live and be saved but he wouldn’t at all say it) if there is no other choice.

By himself and other details:

Oh my god he will not stop talking. He will talk every step of the way. If you find a card? He’ll comment on it. Hears something? Whisper a comment about it. Nothing to comment on or you remain idle? He’ll start singing. He will talk and talk (and sing) during your run with him. 

Initially, he’ll have mostly rude choices as answer. Taking the least rude choice of those would probably help the rest of the group be more accepting. Also, when he talks directly to Abi, he’ll have a nice choice, always. One will be a little more teasing but gentle and the other would be outright nice or mellow. 

Full of cringe quotes.

He tries to make rituals but the group always refuses and stops him, much to his dismay as he assures he’d gain powers if he did this. Will comment on it as the story progresses, complaining about his lack of powers when he needs to survive.

People tease his badly-made small twintails, but he loves them so he uses them all the time. They probably get worse as the story progresses, since he doesn’t have chances to (badly) fix them.

He does NOT get along with figures of authority in Hackett’s Quarry. That includes if he meets Travis, the Hackett’s family, Laura and Max (even though these two aren’t figures of authority). He just doesn’t trust them enough to try and understand them. If he finds the chance, he’ll try to dispose of them for sure. He’ll use the vial Ryan tries to give Laura if he’s around, so DON’T LET HIM CLOSE. 

Definitely will accept being turned if he gets in danger, no way in hell he’s gonna accept dying without trying to save himself.

If he has to shoot someone or something to save himself, HE WILL DO IT IN A HEARTBEAT. He’s probably the main cause for other’s deaths if they’re in danger close to him, he’ll try to use them as decoy. He’ll try not to with Abi but he will do it by impulse and try to save her immediately after. If he develops a bigger relationship with her or another member of the group, he will advocate for their safety and even forcibly hold his impulses or tell people not to be too close.

He’ll love taking detours to gather intel and possible arcane books or artifacts. Delighted to obtain the tarot cards. If you miss one with him, he’ll comment feeling somehow disappointed or like he missed something that would’ve made him feel joy or something.

He’ll follow the voices he hear even though he wants to preserve himself. He’s a thrill-seeker through and through, curious as well and sometimes convinced that it may be the voice of a witch, leading him to the right choice.

He’ll fall for any traps, like beartraps and the like, he’s not too aware of his surroundings.

The breathing meter for him is probably lower than usual, you’d always have to use it until a second before it depletes or else he will take such a loud and deep breath that he’ll be heard. 

He has decent stamina and he’s good with firearms; aiming with him should be a little easier than with other characters. 

He says the forest reminds him of his home (his home is an secluded orphanage) and that the voice that looms around it is like the voices he used to hear when he was small (voices of witches). No one believes his story, usually.

He says lots of tall tales with mixed truths in time, so when he speaks complete truths, people tend to not believe him. 

If he’s turned, he’s a huge threat because he’ll kill mindlessly unless someone finds a way to snap him back to his scarce senses. Abi is probably your safest bet but this can backfire because he’d probably be jealous of Nick and end up raging at her and everyone else around. 

If he develops a good relationship and is turned, he will actively keep himself away from the group and give them at least two chances to run away from him. After that, he’ll lose his mind in the desire for carnage.

I wanted to write his possible deaths, but I haven’t seen all of the paths and choices to develop them all. Anyway, the usual; pinned down and bitten to death, decapit...ation, blood loss, cru...shed, self-sacrifice (rare case), pushing someone to danger only to get himself hurt in the process (the usual), drowning (doesn’t know how to swim), captured and eaten, shot, electroshocked (trying to escape), etc... I may come up with explanations later.

I may add some details later if I’m inspired or something. There must be stuff I’m inevitably missing and forgot to write, after all.

[shummthechumm]

i have a lot of non-favorite wc arcs but imo the worst one has got to be TNP. 

i think nostalgia gives it favor in a lot of ppls eyes but i never read these books when i was a kid lmfao so here i go to the tags

[rhine-gold-archive]

Visions: Geo

Another post in the series where I theorize on why people receive a specific vision, this time it’s Geo.

First part: Cryo and Hydro;    part two: Pyro        Part four: Anemo

Geo are the legacy-makers, they take the tradition that was passed to them and they build on it, often revolutionize it to leave their own mark, but keep fundamentals sacred. Geo archon is the god of contracts because every geo keeps a contract with the world of following the tenants of their tradition, and this includes a social contract too. This is why they are so concerned about reputation and why close ties to the community is a common theme - it’s not enough to just excel at Your Thing, as for a pyro, geo also need to grow it, involve other people, spread it and make sure the world knows Your Thing is fucking awesome. And this is also why geo leaders will serve and protect their communities as the first AND the last line of defense instead of using their subordinates as resources as the leaders normally would. Itto’s first thought is of “his boys” both when he opens treasure chests and when he falls in combat, he was actively distressed when they stepped up to let him escape the millelith, because he was supposed to be the one protecting them; Zhongli fought on the front lines of every war and personally went to every house to catch the aquatic pests, Ningguang sacrificed her beloved Jade Chamber, a symbol of her personal success, without hesitation and was ready to do so again. Geo are the cultivators, empire-builders, and said empire will always come first.   

So, Geo lineup looks consistent enough with this theory, until you get to…

(Fun fact: if you get trapped in a tight corner by enemies and you go into Itto’s burst, camera doesn’t have space to pan out, so it just zooms in on his abs, which is I think is correct and what he would’ve wanted)

Like wait, you might say, how are you going to tie Arataki Itto with cultivation of tradition and social contracts of all things? He’s actively breaking social norms, he gets in trouble with authorities all the time, he notoriously doesn’t do anything but hang out with his gang and have beetle fights with children, what empire is he building? It can’t even be a beetle fights empire, because he’s losing all the time!

Let’s go through his story quest, which like no joke, is the best written in the game, and manages to convey a lot of nuanced allegories. But what’s relevant to this post is that the quest, among other things, explores Itto’s relationship with his heritage, where we learn two things - he’s ostracized for it, but he refuses to give it up. Like, he’s an orphan whose parents died after being driven out of the village for the crime they did not commit specifically because people just assumed they did it because they were oni. After that, he lived on the streets, getting beat up, until the old lady who took him, - and she was mocked for it. The beginning of the quest forces you to go ask people’s opinions about Itto to show you that despite people admitting that he’s never actually done anything worse than being loud and obnoxious in public, they can totally see him stealing and kidnapping families because of his “volatile oni blood” and temper. 

Despite all that he refuses to be less visible or try to blend in with the humans, in fact, when blue oni accuses him of not being successful, Itto argues that their ancestors told them to not bow down to humans and stay true to themselves. He really said “Integrate, not assimilate”. Itto brings up oni’s honor a lot, which includes like: never back down from the fight, but don’t harm the innocents, fight fairly, live to the fullest, pay your debts, respect others, but don’t let them walk over you, etc. And what is honor? It’s a social contract based on personal principles and not the laws or societal norms. And for Itto they are based on his people’s principles, this is the tradition he’s repping. This is why he talks so much about reputation, but doesn’t care about fitting in - he judges reputation not by human, but by oni’s standards, which are like “Live honorably, roll hard and look good while doing it.”

That’s not all though. Taking into account Itto’s frankly tragic backstory, it would be understandable if he shut off, became a cryo isolationist, bitter at humans for ostracizing his kind, but he didn’t. His namecard says “A real man puts sorrow and anger behind him and smiles brightly for the world to see!” Itto is consciously, continuously making a choice to be positive and reach out to people. He formed his gang specifically for losers, outcasts, people who don’t fit in and he formed it based on his people’s principles. Society excluded him and he said “Okay, I’ll make my own community, with beetles and Ushi.” This found family, built on the radical inclusivity, where people who don’t belong in the larger society can bond together and help each other, *is* Itto’s empire.    

To elaborate on other Geo and the “traditions” they’re repping:     

Yun Jin is representing Opera, obviously, taking long-lasting traditions and revolutionizing the approach, but she also wants to teach and spread her mastery to new students, make the art grow.

Ningguang, the Eclipsing Star, a new de facto ruler of Liyue, spear-headed the new era of humans taking the reins from the adepti. It’s not a coincidence that Zhongli decided to finally retire specifically when the next Geo Empress with a new, fundamentally different vision of Liyue, came to power. His guidance is not needed anymore, he is no longer legacy-maker, but a legacy himself, on which it’s Ningguang turn to build upon.   

Noelle wants to be the knight of favonius, but she is afraid that she isn’t good enough to rep for them. Like half of her hangouts is her being mistaken for the full-fledged knight and her being embarrassed\horrified by it. She has too high of expectations for the knights, despite obviously being qualified. But like, we all know that when she comes of age and finally gains confidence, she will be the next Grandmaster after Jean and will revolutionize the entire institution from pseudo-military to the full on social services.

Gorou’s “thing” is the prosperity of Watatsumi island in general and rebellion troops in particular. He’s incredibly concerned about his own image specifically for the sake of how his troops will see him, they are his main motivation.

Albedo is cultivating alchemy, an art that was taught to him by his master and he’s searching for the truth of the world specifically because it was her final assignment. He is carrying out the “tradition” passed to him first and foremost. It might seem at the first glance that he’s not involved in the community, but that’s not true, he is repping for the alchemy - before him, it’s said that alchemy wasn’t taken seriously in Mondstadt, but he singlehandedly overturned that public perception, made alchemy into a respectable occupation and became a high ranking officer. Also, you don’t advance high level science like, frex nuclear physics, by doing community outreach programs, you do it by teaching in universities and performing research projects. Which is exactly what’s Albedo doing and we know that meetups with his students are like the only activities for which he reliably leaves Dragonspine. So he’s actually going out of his way to not only advance alchemy, but spread it and include more people, despite how much his introverted personality would more suit for the shut-in professor type.

[zarnzarn]

Stolitz fic rec!!

||

I'm going to just drop my favorite stolitz fics here.

They run at night by @wearemisfortune

Blitzo is always moving because when his body stops, his mind races. This almost always leads to a terrible fucking idea.

Tonight is no different—but the result will be.

-lovely angst, lovely climax, and it captures Blitz's line of thinking in a serious tone but in a way still feels authentic to the character. And I'm ALWAYS a sucker for the sheer unconditional trust trope.

Junctures by @sluttycrimehat

To everything, there is a season.

-I still am in complete awe of how the author managed to fit so much in such little time. The bit at the end always fucking gets me, I love it so MUCH.

The last general by @curtailed

It's in a month after, with Stolas spent and lying on his side, that Blitzo finally musters up the courage to tell him.

-Hello??? BEAUTIFUL post-harvest moon fic, wonderful vibes, love how well they know each other in this one, the trust is amazing. Love it.

You got everything that I want by @bipridemoth

Stolas can’t recall a time where “love” wasn’t synonymous with “pain” for him.

With Blitzo, it’s not love. So, there’s no pain. Stolas doesn’t let there be pain, at least not emotionally, the physical pain is something he quite enjoys. When Blitzo leaves after their monthly night together, he doesn’t allow himself to feel pain, only anticipation of the next time. He likes that there’s always a next time, even though that’s because of his active incentive more than anything else. But that’s alright, he doesn’t want Blitzo to come see him without an incentive. He deserves favors in turn for what he’s giving Stolas.

-Stolas angst!!!! The angst really is delicious in this one, with just as nice of a happy ending. Blitz is confident about the relationship, which is Wonderful to read and the "I know where this is going" segment had me in TEARS.

Between fairy tales and realities by @coloringthegreyscale

Blitzo's a complicated imp and Striker and Stolas accept that. But what happens when the two worlds he's made for himself collide together for one night? Well...

-Okay, so yes, this is striker/blitz/stolas, but it's so good. All three of them have a lovely dynamic, managing to work out somehow, with powerful Stolas, wonderful Blitz and a HILARIOUS Striker. Go read the series, it's a lot of fun and has many cute interactions that made me smile.

The look by @seireileafy

Blitz has been noticing a change in Stolas.

-It's such a CUTE drabble, I adore when one person can tell the other is pining for them, and the LAST LINE FUCKING GETS ME EVERY TIME-

Instead I made my bed with apathy by @thebooklord15

Just like every night before this one, Blitzo glared at the form next to him, already lulled into the bliss of slumber. He had never meant for things to turn out this way-he’d gotten the grimoire already, he didn’t need this man and from the way Stolas treated him it was clear he did not need the imp either.

And yet.

-Jcjdkafj this one is so GOOD I love blitz being pissed off yet too deep in to stop, and like I've said for others already THAT LAST LINE, PLEASE-

Call and response by anon

It was a love story, maybe.

-short but deliciously angsty, with some beautiful imagery, really nice dialogue, and time-doesn't-exist-in-this-motel-room vibes. Love it.

Shovel proof by @kereea

Octavia tries to give Blitzo the shovel talk. He decides to help with that.

-FUCKING cute, love the Octavia/Blitz dynamic, and it has snappy fun dialogue!! Really sweet.

Reaching out, touching me, touching you by @allmightshipserasermic

Stolas hasn’t been able to preen sufficiently in quite awhile, since Stella refuses to do it for him anymore. Blitzo offers to help.

-PREENING FIC is there anything more I have to say?

The skin you could have by @coloringthegreyscale

Stolas catches Blitzo staring and it leads to some talk, some magic, and a little bit of fun.

-Again, BEAUTIFUL dynamic between the two, lots of angsty tenderness, and lovely body imagery.

Different shapes by @sirdust

“Before the exorcist, he taketh the image and shape of a man.”

Blitz catches a glimpse of Stolas’ human form.

-okay, practically a direct opposite of the previous fic, but SO GOOD, I can't describe it. Love the imagery and their comfortable relationship.

A helluva mess by @stratumgermanitivum

It’s not like Stolas isn’t a hot piece of ass, because he is.

And it’s not like Blitzo’s blind or anything, because he isn’t.

It’s just that there’s pleasure, and then there’s business, and never the twain shall meet. (Unless he finally gets Moxx on board with that threeway, in which case, Blitzo fully intends to christen every damn surface of the office except his precious Loony’s desk.)

-AMAZING, love the pining and denial on both sides it's so great especially since you can tell both sides know that they've messed up. Again, LAST LINE!!

Eat the whole cake (it's what you deserve) by @okoyik

"His Highness is on the phone for you, sir," Moxxie says.

Blitzo makes a face. "Who?"

"Stolas," Moxxie supplies, as if that's supposed to help Blitzo understand. His expression is surely one of complete confusion as he stares at the other imp.

"Who the fuck is Stolas?" Blitzo asks slowly, racking his brain for a face to put to the name.

-

Blitzo's memory starts to slip, and all he knows is he needs that owl that seems to haunt his nightmares to stay away.

-HELLO it's only on one out of four chapters for now but it's already SO GOOD I can't WAIT for the rest!!!

Stand tall, but your hands are shaking by @remymorton

It’s been a month since the Harvest Moon festival. Another full moon night arrived, and after that... Blitz ... He's not well.

-wordless cute comfort, truly very sweet, I love it.

Palaces and souvenirs by @cloudysonder

So Stolas is objectively. Objectively. Attractive. Kinda soft-looking, sometimes. Pretty. Whatever. Fuckin’ whatever. That’s always been a thing. Blitzo knew that, Stolas definitely knew that-- whatever.

"This is not," Blitzo thinks, sounding a little bit desperate even to himself, "some sort of revelation."

His flicks of the lighter get a little more unstable, a little more frustrated.

A clawed hand reaches over and takes hold of the lighter, lighting Blitzo’s cigarette with practiced ease, as if he’d done the same thing a thousand times before (He has, Blitzo realizes).

“Silly Blitzy,” he giggles quietly, giving Blitzo a soft pat on the head before curling up beside him, stretching one last time before closing his eyes to sleep.

Blitzo feels warm.

"This," Blitzo tells himself, and it sounds like a command, "will not be a problem."

-I saw the start of this fic on Twitter and have been following it religiously ever since. It's really a gorgeous fic, three chapters up, with the promise of a Great slow burn, fun dialogue and Octavia & Blitz bonding. The level of denial Blitz is in even as he moves comfortably around every aspect of Stolas' life cracks me tf up.

Can't by @hazbincalifornia

Blitzo realizes he feels something something that he doesn't want to feel. This was supposed to be simple.

-feelings realization fic, wonderful, amazing, lovely, also the exact same way I realized I was gay, funnily enough (girl fell asleep in my lap and I was like oh. Oh fuck.)

Too late to stop by @malkaviancake

Stolas spends some time with his thoughts, realizing that his feelings for Blitzo aren't as one sided as he presumed.

-GORGEOUS vocab, I'm truly very obsessed with it. Like most of these stories, LAST LINE!!!!

Itchy with want, thin on sleep by me

It happens in parts- both falling in love and having his eyes opened.

-I will,, finish this one day, but for now here's a few in between moments before they have The Conversation.

Heaven in hiding by me

Their nights together are good, they always are, both of their tastes lining up to be shockingly compatible, but on the days where they end early and they get to spend some extra time cleaning up in comfortable silence or playful banter- and Blitz would rather take a bullet than admit this out loud- but those nights are pretty great too.

-AFTERCARE FIC, I had to write an aftercare fic ft. Good dom Blitz, Stolas taking care of him in return and a comfortable relationship that they both know is going to cause Problems in the future :)

Love in the bones and sinews of this curse by me

Five times Stolas and Blitz needed the grimoire to break a curse + one time they didn't.

-self explanatory. I tried to make it as funny as possible, everyone bickers a lot and Blitz brings Stolas flowers and gifts, what more could you need?

Life is a curse (love makes it worse) by me

"Alright!" Blitz says, clapping his hands together, "Weapons out, and-"

Half pull out some gun or the other, but half just look at him blankly. Blitz wishes for death.

"Save me from this family," He mutters under his breath, "Okay. Take these then." He passes out the few weapons he'd brought along with him and doesn't ask if they know how to use them because if he hears a no, he's giving up and going back home. "Stick close and talk loudly so the others can hear us. Let's go."

They move out, Blitz taking the lead and the rest forming a circle close behind him, starting up a loud conversation about the neighbour's garden. It gives him enough time to wonder exactly what the fuck he's doing here, in a nightmare world with a bunch of pretentious snobs, searching for his stupid Ars Goetia boyfriend, instead of sleeping in his nice lumpy bed back at home.

-a sequel to the previous fic!!! I had to write some Octavia and Blitz bonding, and accidentally added in a bunch of teenage imps who work for Stolas who imprint on Blitz immediately. And there's Eldritch Stolas, protective boyfriends and found family!!! The whole shebang!!!

This ended up being Much longer than I'd expected, but genuinely every fic up there is really good, go check em out!!!!

[shroudcore]

Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (II)

Summary: You crash the wedding with Grim and Ortho. Unlike the others, proposing isn’t on your mind. You come with a very different approach. 

An angstier take on Ghost Marriage. Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story. (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

If the students of NRC thought they’ve seen Eliza at her angriest, they were wrong. The fury she displayed now was incomparable. While Idia fawned over your dramatic anime-worthy entrance, the new interruption was getting on her last ghostly nerve.

“Guards! Seize them!” she roared. Immediately, the ghosts went into action. Idia held his breath as he watched the obedient ghosts charge at you, Grim, and Ortho. He hoped you didn’t barge in with no plan. If you didn’t come equipped with useful items, you would end up like everyone else. 

Chubby, determined to get rid of the intruders that caused distress to his beloved princess, was eager to get rid of you. (”Simp”, Idia muttered) However, eagerness wasn’t enough against an opponent equally as determined. As soon as he got too close, an unknown force threw him backwards to where Eliza floated, shocking the princess.

“Chubby! Are you alright?”

Idia, on the other hand, was elated. 

“Th-that’s so OP!” he exclaimed. He knew you heard him, because your gaze flicked to him for a split second before looking away. Embarrassed, Idia shut his mouth. He’d expected at least a smile. 

After Chubby’s failed attack, other ghosts attempted to face your group. They only met the same fate. Confused, they could only pay their apologies to the princess and watch on in helplessness. Just what did you have up your sleeve? Who did you get such an SS-tier item from?

“Princess, it’s impossible to stop them!” the last of Eliza’s guards told her. For the first time that night, she looked afraid. 

Grim guffawed, while you smirked. A familiar look. It was always there before you jumpscared an enemy, or before you checkmated a poor opponent. Idia might have thought it was kinda hot. At the moment, he was oblivious to his gaping mouth, and how wildly his hair blazed. What were once lightly blushing tips were now an alarming red—a level of ferocity never seen from him before. 

“You can’t touch or hurt us!” boasted Grim, a devious smirk on his face. “We had some he—mprfgh!” He was abruptly cut off by Ortho’s robotic arm covering his mouth. Idia’s brother shook his head at your noisy dorm mate. 

“Release my big brother now!” he demanded. Idia grimaced, but didn’t feel too worried. As long as Ortho was with you and your anti-ghost protective shield, he would be safe. 

As expected, the ghosts were affronted. 

“How dare he order the princess like that?”

“You ought to be punished for your insolence!”

“To intrude on a royal wedding and speak disrespectfully! 

“Send them to the gallows!”

One talked, and one talked over the other. Soon, all that could be heard was an unintelligible susurrus of disembodied voices. One ghost had enough of it, and shouted to Eliza: “Princess, the kiss! Do what must be done!” 

“NO!” You and Ortho yelled at the same time. You continued to walk towards the makeshift altar as your two companions followed close behind. Ghosts rushed to block your path, but you pressed on as your invisible shield threw them back. It looked absolutely badass. Well, anything you did was cool to Idia, anyway. 

 “Out of my way!” You commanded, strong and unwavering. He’d seen you annoyed and angry before, but never up to this point. It basically radiated off of you that a danger warning could be floating above your head. 

“S-so intimidating... “

“So scary!”

Sure, this wedding crasher looked like you, but something was different. An unexplainable sinister aura wreathed you tonight. Was it your glare, or was it that regal suit you wore? Idia must have been too distracted by you, that he only noticed now how your cape seemed to drag shadows with it. You were a villain... much like one of the villains from his video games! And something else that was familiar. 

Whatever it was and wherever it came from, there was a menacing presence in the hall tonight. 

All were silent, except for the wind whistling through the hall. If one listened more carefully, they would hear drowned-out cackles. But it is just the wind, right?

“Wh-who are you?” Eliza finally asked. The ghosts who were ashamed at being unable to seize you began to form a protective ring around their princess. Eliza herself, Idia noticed, was starting to curl in on herself—her presence shrinking the closer you approached. “What do you want?”

“The groom,” was all you said, staring her down as if eyes alone could exterminate the ghost in front of you. 

“Idia?” she asks weakly, glancing at her tied-up groom. Idia said nothing and did nothing but look at you, attempting to telepathically communicate his panic. You barely even looked at him. 

“He’s mine.” 

Hold up—?

More gasps and chatter. They sounded less like whispers and more like the buzzing insects he heard whenever he snuck out at midnight. The world spun. Idia stared at you open-mouthed. 

If he were asked to describe his state of mind at this moment, it would be similar to a loading screen. Suddenly, everything you did together played back in a 1.75x supercut sequence. 

Mine. 

Mine. 

Mine.  

“Wh-what?” Eliza sputtered. “What do you mean?” 

You answered her, voice losing the steadiness it possessed just moments ago. “You have the man I love.” 

Wha… 

KDJAFCKSAJHDKACBSXCJSIEUDS?

Idia.exe has crashed. Reboot? 

~~

The audience’s reactions were varied. Some students on the floor were amused by the spectacle and could have used some popcorn (and a comfortable position) during these times. Some were horrified and disappointed by the idea of the prefect being in love with Idia Shroud the shut-in. Some were much too confused to feel anything. 

“Pardon…? What did I just hear?” Azul asked the floor.

“Puppy love,” Lilia wept, sniffling very loudly. “You know, this reminds me of when I was young...” 

“Whaddaya mean when you were young?!” Floyd snapped. His irritability had spiked up even more when you arrived. His position prevented him from witnessing the events. Everyone on the floor could feel his bad mood rolling off of him in waves. 

“Hey! Watch your tone when speaking to Lilia!” scolded Sebek. 

“... Are they acting?” Leona mumbled. 

“Oh, this better be an act.”  said Vil.  “... though it does not seem to be.” The last part of his observation remained unheard by anyone else, except for Rook. 

“I believe we are witnessing a genuine love confession,” added the Chasseur d’Amour himself, voice soft as he sighed dreamily. “Engrave this moment into your memories, everyone! We are fortunate to witness it…”

But no one shared his enthusiasm about the situation. The others expressed their displeasure by groaning and complaining. “... well, even in this state we are in?” he added as a follow-up. 

~~

Reboot. 

You once fell asleep on Idia’s shoulder after finishing a movie. It was something you both only watched to make fun of, but you were apparently too tired to give your top-tier jokes and meme references. The contact sent his heart into overdrive as he froze, begging for option boxes to appear and help him. The flames of his hair blazed so brightly that it woke you back up. It was embarrassing, and sometimes he would remember it late at night and cringe. 

It was happening again, but worse. Any moment now, he was sure that he alone could burn down the cafeteria, if not the whole school. This was stupid. Why did he get that worked up over an obvious act? A mere ploy to get the ghosts to release him?

Reality catches up and deals him triple attack damage. Crowley probably put you up to this. You were probably annoyed that you were forced to do this, weren’t you? That’s why you couldn’t even look at him. It had to be the cruelest joke that fate ever threw his way. 

“I can’t say I don’t understand you, Princess,” you tell Eliza, forcing a smile. “Idia is perfect, is he not?” He felt your eyes on him. This time, it was he who couldn’t quite meet your gaze. Looking down at the floor was all he could do; it couldn’t judge his blushing face. Only when the warmth in his cheeks faded did he feel it safe to look back up again. 

“You see him, don’t you, Princess?” Your voice began to falter, losing the confidence and authority in it that scared the ghosts. “He’s so much more than what everyone else thinks! We agree on that, don’t we?”

Eliza’s face softened, nodding. “Yes. I’ve seen how these people insult him!” she tells you, gesturing to the ‘failed princes’ on the floor.

“But we’re still different,” you stepped closer, but still far enough so that your invisible anti-ghost forcefield wouldn’t activate. “You don’t want to marry Idia, you want to marry your fairytale prince.” 

Eliza appeared to be genuinely confused. She looked around at her companions, before turning back to you. “What do you mean?”

“You’re in love with your ideals, not the person himself,” you explain. “You only chose him for his appearance. Am I right? His personality, likes and dislikes, and possible flaws don’t matter to you.”

Eliza seemed deep in thought. While she was silent, you release a bitter laugh and threw your hands up.  “I mean, do you even know what his favorite candy is?”

Pomegranate drops. You asked to have some, but he refused to give you any. He wouldn’t tell you why, but he let you assume it was his favorite and didn’t want to share because of that. 

That wasn’t it, though. Maybe he’d tell you once you were both out of here. 

“You’ve never stayed up until 4am just to join him on a raid!” You waved your hands wildly, lost in your rant. Whether Eliza understood you or not, you seemed to have stopped giving a damn. 

“Weak!” he teased, noticing your drooping eyelids and reduced concentration. Deep down, he felt bad for keeping you up late.  “Look, it’s fine if you need to rest.”

“Nah, let’s finish this. What are you going to do without me?” you replied, smirking.

“You don’t even have 4-hour conversations with him on Magicord VC like I do!” 

It lasted up until 3am. You two were laughing at memes. He could hear a groggy Grim complain in the background about the noise. 

“Alright. Here’s a question, princess. How much would you risk for the man beside you right now? Bet that’s where we’re different...”

Eliza’s gaze darted back and forth between you and Idia. Even the other ghosts were silent, waiting for your next words. 

“... because if you ask me, I would risk everything! That’s why I’m here wearing this stupid suit!”

It’s not real. It’s not real. The emotion behind every word was a punch to the gut. If you kept this up, he might need a healer soon. Ever since he realized he was falling, he tried to quell the sparks of hope you ignited whenever you did something nice for him. All that hard work was gone. Each word you uttered was gasoline. 

“To think that if I arrived minutes later… th-that I would never see him again!” A sob escapes your throat, your intimidating persona crumbling.

No, don’t do that. Idia wanted to reassure you that he was still there and he was okay, but he couldn’t. It’s part of an act. It’s part of an act. 

“So please… just let him go.” The front you wore has completely dissolved. There you were, reduced to a sobbing mess in front of a ghost princess and the students of NRC. 

You weren’t the only one. All traces of anger or fear have vanished from Eliza’s face. Instead, she put her hands over her mouth. The princess had been moved to tears. Finally, she turns to Idia. “Idia, they seem to l-love you very much… ”

“That’s right.” You wiped your tear-streaked face and pointed an accusing finger at the ghosts. “And all of you! Are you going to enable her forever? Encourage her shallow ideas of what love should be?” 

They all looked down, unable to meet your eyes. 

“You have no right to just snatch him up and claim him as yours,” you told Eliza with an unfaltering resolve, despite your tear-covered face and your crumbled front of strength. “Did you never think… that there could have been someone waiting for him to return?” 

“I-I never meant to!” Eliza cried. “I was so blinded by my own happiness. I never thought… never even considered…” 

“Princess, it’s alright. We all make mistakes.” Chubby told her, trying to be reassuring. 

“Tell me, intruder. How else am I going to find my prince?” she asked you with no trace of hostility. You stopped for a while, staring at her. 

You must not have expected the question. Idia saw you look at him—it was the longest time you’d looked at him all evening. Clearing your throat, you began to explain. You fumbled a bit, scratching the back of your neck and tugging at the hem of your coat as you explained what a perfect partner should be. 

As you spoke, Idia was enthralled by your voice and most of all, the knowledge you possessed about love and romance. He hadn’t seen this side of you before. How did he ever think that a hundred dating sims could make him a romance expert?

“Is that so?” she sighs, bowing her head. “I understand now. I’m so sorry… for causing you so much grief.” 

She turns to her companions, giving them a sad smile. “There’s only one thing to do. Everyone, we must stop this wedding.” 

Idia wanted to fall to the floor in relief. At least a few exhausted sighs and weak cheers could be heard from the wedding “attendees”. You fell to your knees, exaggerating your gratitude. 

“Thank you, princess!”

“But Princess… what about your happily ever after?” Chubby interjected. 

“I can’t tear two lovers apart!” Eliza wipes a few of her own tears, then turns to you. “I was deeply moved by your words. I dream of having a lover like you,” she sighs dreamily, probably imagining her future lover already. 

While the students of NRC rejoiced at this victory, Idia’s heartbeat quickened in fear. What if Eliza decided to take you for herself?

“Princess…” Chubby muttered, sighing. Eliza only gave him a reassuring smile. Phew. Idia relaxed, grateful that she doesn’t have the idea… yet. He didn’t know what to do if that thought became reality. 

Eliza turns to address the hall with a smile. “I have decided.” Everyone waited with bated breath for her announcement. Idia squeezed his eyes shut and silently urged her to announce their departure already. 

“Idia and I will not be married anymore. She smiles wide, and clasps her hands together. “However, there will still be a wedding!”

Your smile faded. “What… what do you mean, princess?”

She beams. “To make up for my mistake, I will make sure that Idia and his lover are married tonight!” 

~~

To be continued.

Tagging: @teashopwritingzz @twistedcrumbs 

Well, that was long. To think that I was planning for the story to be a one-shot! Once again, keep an eye out for Part 3. Thank you for reading! 

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

[rumblelibrary]

hii!! i saw your requests are open, if you’re not too busy could you write something about Laszlo falling in love with reader (she’s a friend of Sara’s and helping with the case) but he keeps trying to avoid his feelings and remain professional and friendly until then he gets jealous of Marcus (or maybe John whoever you think works best) and starts being mean and pushing her away and then John or Sara are like “really?? can you not see that she likes you?” and he apologizes and it’s all fluffy at the end??

that was a bit long sorry, i hope you’re having a great day💗💗

Worlds Apart [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Reader]

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Laszlo being his usual adorable dumbass

Author’s note: Thank you so much for giving me the chance to write your story, hope you’ll enjoy it 💗💗

The first time your presence graced him was on an infamous rainy day. He didn’t mind rain, but it was the kind of storm that forced kids inside the Institute and some of them really benefitted of the time spent outside. So when you appeared at his doorstep escorted by Cyrus, a little of wetness on your shoulders and your hat, arms tightly grasping a big bunch of paper folders, untouched by the heavy weather clearly at your expenses, you looked like a gift from the above.

“Sara Howard contacted me, My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I work for the Town Hall Archives” you introduced yourself, a polite smile softening him. “It is my pleasure to finally meet you, Dr Kreizler” you added.

He blinked realising he was staring while your words moved past him without affecting him.

“Please, Sara told me you are going to be vital in the unravelling of this case, call me Laszlo”

He opened his arm on side letting you in as Cyrus walked away closing the door behind himself. A sense of guilt creeping over him, he realised how low his mind went to appreciate your physical side first and your sweet smile next, if men were anything different from the beasts, then why indulge still in such raw details. From that moment on, he decided, he would not do you the same disrespect. Little he knew that once he forbid himself to take grace of the sight of you, he would be overwhelmed by your bright mind. As you exposed those files to him you two started working together, day after day, time after time, a little dance of turning pages, soft smile, excited discoveries. Your smile affecting him in unpredicted ways, your good heart weakening his mask, your calm demure forbidding his raging fits. Anything of you made him better, any part of you was loved and worshipped by him, your position quickly transitioning from helpful hand, to admirable being and now to an ideal. A sense of necessity creeping over him every time you closed the space between the two of you to show him something, every time he stared at you wrapped up some archive ladder to find this or that file. Another thing you earned from him with time, the hardest maybe, was the ability to make him chuckle. You weren’t a goofball but you knew when to break down his thought process to bring him back to a quieter state. He liked you, he was even considering to offer you to leave the Town Hall Archives to work as his secretary at the Institute. The benefits of your presence made his work better and your natural tendency to method blessing his day to day activities with balance. Laszlo didn’t like to admit it, but a sense of possessiveness was also growing on him, he knew what was going on in his mind, or to better say it in his heart, but he refused to acknowledge it. The case was on, after the case maybe.

Or maybe never.

That’s what he thought when, after an interview at the house of a potential future patient of the institute, he took a stroll on the main road, his eyes darting on the flower shop only to recognise you there. Your figure associated with the colourful gifts of nature made his heart skip a beat, a sense of joy filled him soon to disappear when Marcus Isaacson figure appeared beside you holding three or four different kind of flowers in large bouquets, all of them meaning something love related: attraction, desire, kinship.

Those meanings pestered his thoughts, your soft laugh hitting his ears like an angel choir. Your hand lifting up as Marcus bowed his head toward you, your bare fingers running through his curls pulling out some wild leaf that got tangled among them.

“Silly me” he chanted like a child that has zero guilt about earning something undeserved “Come on Y/N, pick your favourite, I can’t hold them all forever”.

Laszlo’s eyes narrowed on him, hating the urgency in his voice, before drifting on the big bouquets, the carnations attracting his gaze, the meaning: pure love, faithfulness, also motherly love.

“The carnations” you said without a doubt moving your arms among the flower to pick them, the closeness you shared rubbing Laszlo in the wrong way.

A sudden realisation hitting him, rage boiling as he turned on his heels to rush to the Institute. What a fool he was, mistaking your natural kindness for…what? Interest for a cripple? Tenderness for a lonely angry man? His jaw clenched, rage surging through him, on that day the door of his office slammed so hard nobody dared to call for him, not even for dinner. When the next day you came to bring some papers and revise some new information, he was keeping a two meters distance all the time, if not more. Anything you said was welcomed with sounds the usual good morning disappeared.

“Laszlo” you called him after more than one hour spent welcomed by only silence and grunts “Did something happen? Maybe, I could help..”

“What exactly gives the impression I need your help?” He shot back before you could even mutter another sentence or even conclude the one you just begun.

His eyes raising from the papers he was holding, his hand moved to his glasses taking them off “As far as my knowledge goes, you’re here to support the investigation with documents and research, not to interfere with my personal life or a job like mine that requires not only tact but also a severe respect of the patient’s privacy”

You closed your mouth suddenly as he never reacted in such a way toward you. Usually he seemed to like to engage with you, to hear your thoughts and opinions, now his hard glare was dooming over you like the Judgment Day.

“I apologise” you resumed to say, maybe it was a bad day, those bad days John teased him about so many times, but that you never encountered before.

So you moved back to your spot respecting the distance he wanted, he put his glasses back on the bridge of his nose.

Nothing more was said.

That evening when you were about to leave you thanked him and wished him a good night, as you always did. Silence again, only one hand to be lifted as he didn’t even turn to talk to you. His reaction gutted you and from that day on to visit him turned into the heaviest hours of the day. There was no room for chat, no room for accommodation. You even brought some sweets one day thinking he might like it and he handed those just as quickly to the kids. You even asked him if you wronged him and he said there was nothing wrong.

After two weeks like this, you sat behind your desk at the Town Hall resigned to live with his silence, you stared at a little note he wrote to you once to thank you of your help with some documents titles underneath.

I admire your dedication to the case. Your help is invaluable L.K.

You read, but that didn’t stand anymore, for some reason.

“What’s that long face for?”

Sara asked leaning against your desk as you slipped that piece of paper underneath your notebook. You already gave Laszlo all the documents requested, you could throw that away, but you didn’t.

“I think I upset Dr Kreizler”

Sara looked at you surprised by the way you resumed calling him by his title, like you were trying to gain distance from him. You looked at her incisive look as you quietly explained to her your fears and doubts, what was going on and how you probably should ask John a way to repair the situation, because you were clueless. After your conversation Sara didn’t think about it twice and after concluding her duties she stormed at Laszlo’s office only to find him engaged in the billionth argument with John.

“What have you told to Y/N?”

She asked, a proper mad mama bear as she stared at him mercilessly, she was aiming for the throat and John looked at him puzzled.

“What have you done Laszlo? Having a fine woman interested on you hits so differently?”

Laszlo was about to answer Sara when he suddenly felt attacked on too many fronts.

“Wait, I beg your pardon? I think you have got into some mistake, John”

John looked at him and then at Sara as she shook her head impatiently and already fed up with Laszlo’s ways.

“She does like you Laszlo, where is your problem about it?” She inquired more “Is she not a doctor enough for your likings? Do you want a duchess or something? Because I don’t understand, if you’re not interested to her at least be human”

By this moment Laszlo was still incredule and a chuckle almost left his lips

“I think you are mistaken Sara, Y/N is in a relationship with Marcus Isaacson, I stumbled upon them already”

“Marcus? I thought he was seeing that Esther girl, Lucius complained about his lack of focus more than once, how did you manage to erase her interest that quick Laszlo?” John said surprised and Sara had to hold onto her iron will not to slap the both of them in their faces.

“You two are worse than any little town blabbermouth” she snapped.

John frowned feeling accused and Laszlo was ready to give her a lecture that could last until the end of times when you walked inside in a rush.

“Excuse me” you said out of breath, mud stained your dress as you clearly run your way to her Institute handing them a file “This just came”.

You gulped down as Sara glared at Laszlo while she guided you to have a glass of water.Laszlo studied the document without even acknowledging your presence, another victim served on a plate.

That evening he went to see the body, the Isaacson’s giving a full display of the wounds and marks on the body to him and John. By the rules of the obituary, you and Sara weren’t welcomed inside as they were.  You sat silently, slowly tracing the stain on your skirt thinking how bad Laszlo’s impression of you must be now that you even showed yourself in such an improper manner, such a gentleman like him witnessing you in such a state. When they came out of the obituary Sara stood up as you remained sat, the warm presence of Laszlo now hunting you like a ghost every time he is around.

“The murderer knows we re close” Laszlo stated as he sighed, ashamed that another life was lost “I think that this victim in particular..”

“Y/N!”

Marcus interrupted him rushing out of the obituary with his bloody apron still on, his less than sanitary clean hand on your shoulder as Laszlo was ready to reduce the both of you to dust for interrupting him.

“Excuse me Doctor” Marcus head shot up to him before looking back down at you “Thank you for helping with the gifts, Esther adored them, we are going out again tonight” he said excitedly to you and a big smile, the first of the day, blossomed on your lips.

“I told you, you should trust me more often” you said and he nodded vehemently “If things go this good, I will come to ask you to help me with the ring” he said completely hyped up, bouncing curls everywhere, as you crossed your fingers for him and he repeated the gesture before disappearing again called by his brother who was fed up with his love talks already.

Sara crossed her arms as John’s stare went up to Laszlo’s face, the sudden realisation of his mistake hit him like a bag of bricks. A mix of shame and happiness filling him up. And now the doubt: did he ruined his chances forever? The next morning you came into his office, you never stopped wishing him good morning and being polite, no matter his attitude.

“Y/N” he called you as you were placing your belongings aside. Your surprised look due to his softened tone was unmissable to him.

“Come here, I wish to talk to you”

You grew nervous as he didn’t say much else, so you walked to him sitting on the couch beside him, the one where you shared so many talks not too long before, even if now it felt like an eternity.

“I want to apologise to you” he blurted out all together, no need to move around the topic even though that only affirmation run over you harder than any other phrase.

You didn’t reply, allowing him to proceed.

“I apologise, because I have been selfish and foolish” he said, the fingers of his left hand touching nervously the armchair “I have been mistreating you only because my pride was hurt, I have acted like a man without means and courage.”

You parted your lips but he interrupted you before you could even begin.

“Please, let me finish, I have felt from the beginning a prominent fondness toward you. Your character and your kindness make you a remarkable person, you have the talent of bringing out the best out of most people, me included. But I have misread your ways and pointed your natural disposition to a form of romantic interest directed on me and our common friend Marcus Isaacson”

He was still excluding the possibility of you being attracted to him.

“I thought there was something behind it and I acted like a child instead of asking you directly, and I am ashamed for that”

You stared at him, a little smile creeping onto your lips.

“I think you misread only half of the situation Laszlo, as always you’re too unkind on yourself” you said gathering all the courage you had “because my interest toward you was honest while my relationship with Marcus is nothing by friendly”

Now it was Laszlo���s turn to be silenced, a new realisation creeping into his bones, a hope becoming a possibility.

“And is that honest interest still alive after my despicable ways?”

Your smile grew pulled by the redness spreading on your cheeks.

“Maybe” he interrupted. He didn’t want to wait for your answer, your smile spoke for you “maybe we can further bring this conversation to Delmonico’s, tonight, just the two of us”

Your smile grew bigger, his eyes shining for you.

“It will be my pleasure” you answered only, not knowing a bouquet of carnations was already being delivered at your house to welcome you once you’ll be back.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved​ @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio Let me know if you want to get tagged too <3

[none-gender-left-man]

Let's talk LGBTQ+ erasure in the Marvel Fandom

Mischaracterization in fandom is a big problem, and it's something we see from every fanbase. A character gets boiled down into a few condensed traits and their nuance is washed out and forgotten. Fanonization isn't always inherently bad, and can lead to fandom solidarity and representation through headcanon, and this can sometimes eventually have influence on canon, which can be seen in the Homestuck fandom, where eventually slash pairings that received enough attention became endgame romantic pairings (Dave and Karkat, Rose and Kanaya, etc.). Of course I'm not here to discuss Homestuck today, I'm here to discuss the Marvel fandom and its toxic dudebro fans, as well as related topics that intersect with this issue. 

There's a common mischaracterization problem in the Marvel fandom, particularly in relation to queer relationships and characters. 

First example is Deadpool. Wade Wilson is described by his canon writers and creators to be omnisexual or pansexual, or of an otherwise fluctuating and open sexuality. The Deadpool video game wildly mischaracterized Wade and even made him behave in some homophobic ways, acting grossed out by men and homoerotic implications. This was jarring for me as someone who has read his comics and knows for a fact that Wade has multiple emphasized crushes on or at least attraction to other male characters, such as Spider-Man, Thor, Cable, and others. The game was very popular despite this mischaracterization and created a condensed fanonized Deadpool that is made into nothing more than an ultraviolent oversexualized joke, despite his character being the epitome of coping humor and having a very tender and compassionate side to him. It's known in the comics that Wade uses his humor to cope with his severe trauma, this doesn't mean he is just comic relief. This has gotten consistently worse since the Deadpool films. (I'm looking at you, shitty Wal-Mart DP t shirt that shows Wade holding a sign that says "oh I'm sorry did I offend you?" Which is really OOC imho)

Many of the more hypermasculine fans of Deadpool seem to have this false image of him being the epitome of "offensive humor" when in reality his trademark is Metahumor, not going out of his way to be a dick to people. These fans also often either ignore or aren't aware of Deadpool not being straight, portraying him as thirsting after buxom ladies but forgetting his openly admitted male attracted orientation which is just as obvious if you're not actively ignoring it. This is a grave mistake that takes so much from his character, especially in the case of the Deadpool/Spider-Man team up comics. 

In that span of issues Wade went through an entire moral transformation, molding himself and his moral compass to earn the respect of Spider-Man, while unable to go more than a few pages without flirting with him. The things Wade goes through in order to Do the Right Thing by Spider-Man in any other story would be considered romantic. If a man did this much for a woman in a narrative of course no one would question the romantic subtext, but because it's two men, half of the fanbase has a kneejerk reaction to this concept and swear that Deadpool flirting is a joke. (Or that it's just "Bromance")

Yes, because apparently a man being attracted to a man has to be a joke. /Sarc

Wade and Peter are even canonically shown to be "heartmates" and this still isn't enough for the erasure to end, and ultimately I think this is because the fans guilty of this either didn't read the Deadpool comics and only know the movie or game, or they chose to read the comics through a straight washed lense, assuming all "gayness" is a joke.

It's made prominently clear in Deadpool/Spider-Man that Wade is probably in love with Spidey based on his actions, and truly every single interaction with him leaves more evidence to support this idea, especially when you look at his relationship with Shiklah and how not-good it was in comparison to his much healthier dynamic with Peter. Even with the knowledge of the ridiculous Peter Parker Policy (that states Peter Parker must always be portrayed as a straight white man in canon despite him being the embodiment of the underdog), one cannot deny Wade is attracted to Peter canonically. The only thing in the way of them being a pair is that they're both men and Marvel is too cowardly to make one of their most famous and family oriented characters queer, and that fans who aren't queer actively ignore the obvious subtext and narrative value of the Wade/Peter dynamic in the comics. Marvel has doubled down on this with the MCU by making Peter Parker WAYYYYY younger than Wade than he actually is in the comics (don't ship MCU spideypool folks, that's gross. Comics only. MCU Spider-Man is far too young even at 18), making it now impossible for us to see this dynamic on screen, because they're only capable of giving queer representation when it comes with an R rating, apparently (and they really didn't do that w Deadpool either tbh they stated that he's pansexual in some trailers but never showed much queerness in the films at all, even with Ryan Reynolds wanting to focus on Wade having a boyfriend at some point, it hasn't come to fruition bc Marvel is too scared to lose their rabid straight fans).

The same erasure can be seen in Venom, in relation to Eddie Brock and his undeniably queer relationship with the genderless, masculine presenting alien living in his body. 

Eddie and Venom are portrayed and referred to as if they're married, Venom himself states that their bond is equivalent to a marriage, and Eddie calls Venom "love". Yet again, this is ignored by edgier straight fans who refuse to see the blatant truth about the characters. 

Venom drops everything to be with Eddie, his purpose in life itself. He chooses Eddie over his biological purpose and has repeatedly been shown to do ANYTHING to stay with him, never wanting to be apart from Eddie. 

After the release of Venom 2018 this relationship is receiving spotlight again, but not without pushback. Many fans seem to have the impression that this relationship is fan generated and accuse shippers of "hamfisting gay shit into everything" when in reality they're the ones hamfisting straightness where there is none, and erasing the canon in order to fit their personal interpretation, the very thing they accuse queer fans of doing. The same thing happens with Spideypool, with Stucky, with Symbrock, with Loki and Venom's nonbinary genders, with every LGBTQ+ hero or character in Marvel this can be seen as a pervasive problem. The elitist nerds who go out of their way to delegitimize other fans are often the least fluent in the source material they claim to defend.

This is both a result of toxic fandom, and of badly managed representation on the part of Marvel as a company. I'm by no means an authority on all things Marvel, but as a queer fan of Marvel properties, I feel this needs to be said.

[outofangband]

Masterlist/Explanation of the Dark Arafinwë verse

Other masterlists

Next

Maedhros is attending a formal event near Alqualondë and is accosted by another elf. Unable to wrangle the truth from the ages of pre-existing biases and feuds, Teleri wardens arrest both the accoster and Maedhros who finds himself fighting against his own memories. When, to his very great surprise, Arafinwë himself intervenes on his behalf, Maedhros is brought back to the palace to be kept under supervision until the matter is investigated. (More details at the end notes)

CW: forced stripping (non sexual), abuse of power, callous disregard of past trauma/exploiting trauma responses, dissociation, gaslighting 

Edit: I’ve had some people tell me that the gaslighting in this story is very difficult to read so I wanted to give an extra warning for that element

Tag list: @iwenttomordor @elarinya-nailo @mozart-the-meerkitten @tears-and-lilies @much-ado-about-whumping 

“Strip.”

There was no malice in the command, simply an almost weary calm. Nelyafinwë was aware of his own eyes widening just as a sense of unreality came over him. The soft warmth of the evening felt suddenly oppressive and the clean and comfortable room he had been lead into twisted and distorted. He took a step backwards and his half uncle raised an eyebrow.

“I know you carry weapons upon thy person, Russandol. For rather obvious reasons I cannot allow you to keep them.”

The room did not come back into focus but Maitimo gave a small sigh, apprehension as much as relief. He raised one booted foot and undid the laces, pulling out a small blade and handing it over to Arafinwë who pocketed it with a small nod of acknowledgment. Maitimo then undid the other boot to show there was nothing in it.

Arafinwë looked impassively at the other elf, fingers pressed together at his chest.

“It would not be very prudent to simply take thy word, Russandol. Remove the rest, I will give you something to wear.” Maedhros’s gaze traveled to his face, his own expression of startled disbelief. He waited for a few moments for Arafinwë to leave or turn away. Arafinwë does not. 

Maitimo swallowed, aware of the tingling, almost trembling in his arms or legs. He started on the buttons on his tunic so it fell into two sides, revealing the scars on his chest. Including the numerous iterations of kinslayer carved or tattooed into his flesh. He winced as he thought about this, not wishing to force Arafinwë to view another reminder of what had happened here so many years ago.

But he handed the tunic over over. Arafinwë set it and his boots on the bed, more of an examination table than for rest. He gestures for Maitimo to continue when the Noldor prince pauses again. Next come the trousers, slightly scuffed from the altercation that had landed him here in the first place. The heat rises to his ears and he can no longer maintain any sort of eye contact, directing his gaze to the floor instead.

Maitimo procrastinates pulling off his leggings until Arafinwë makes a soft sound of impatience, jarring him back to the present. The present where he is standing almost completely naked in front of the king of the Noldor in Valinor.

“I was there when Angamando fell and I have worked as a healer. I know you are scarred. Please remove the rest.”  

Maitimo hands over the last of his clothes and finally Arafinwë looks away from him, gathering up his leggings, tunic, trousers and boots along with his jewelry. 

“Stay here, Russandol. I will bring these to my guard to examine.” He starts towards the door.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Maitimo sees that the beaded bracelet Rôg had crafted for him is visible in the pocket of his trousers. He longs to hold it, to rub the smooth stone between his fingers as he does when the memories of the past intrude so vividly into the present.

“Lord Arafinwë?” He starts to say but the look on his half uncle’s face, that same impassive, cool interest, prevents any more words from leaving him and he merely shakes his head and waits as the other leaves.

...

Arafinwë returns nearly half of an hour later and Maitimo has not dared to move, even to try and cover himself. Loathe as he is to admit it to himself, any scolding or reprimand he might receive is likely worse than the shame of being so exposed. The door is closed, perhaps it was locked. 

The king moves past him to take up his previous position. His expression has not changed. 

“I am afraid you will have to be restrained for the night, Russandol. I do not have guards to spare.” Maedhros looks up at him, his heartrate spiking again. 

“I do not need to be restrained, My Lord” he says slowly, carefully, “I am hardly going to attack you nor anyone else, naked and with no weapon.” 

Arafinwë studies him. “I have absolutely no idea whether or not you will attack another should you become frightened or angry. I cannot afford the possibility that you enter such a state and harm someone. Lay down,” he gestures to the narrow bed before continuing, “This is a process that would typically be done by our wardens. Are you not grateful you are not suffering this under the hands of strangers?” 

Maitimo was more acutely aware than ever of his nakedness as he took the few steps forward and lay down on his stomach. He hears rather than sees Arafinwë come to his right side, using a strap made of a soft leather to fasten his hands down. He urges himself silently to breathe through his nose, to remain calm. By the time his ankles were also strapped down, he had to actively count his breaths to keep them steady.

“Open your mouth.” This next command is spoken as calmly, coolly as the others, it is only Maitimo who is experiencing the dizzying panic. He doesn’t obey this time. Arafinwë approaches him again, kneeling beside his head and holding out what seem to be more of the leather straps. 

 “Your teeth are a weapon, Russandol,” now there is something like sarcasm, mocking in the king’s voice, Maitimo is sure of it.

 (Is he sure?)

“You can hardly be surprised that you are not trusted here. Do you not understand I have made this process significantly better for you? Open your mouth. This will not hurt you and it is only until the morrow.” 

Maedhros tastes cleaned leather as something is forced into his mouth, preventing him from moving his tongue. More straps are fixed around his head. Arafinwë is careful to keep his hair out of the way of them so it does not become caught or tangled. But the parts that press against his face irritate the old scars made when less considerate hands strapped similar devices over him. 

Finally, Arafinwë takes a step back. Maedhros’s shallow breathing is softened slightly by the piece in his mouth. 

“Good. Get some rest, Russandol. I will check on you in the morning.”

To be continued

Author’s note: This type of gaslighting used both implicitly and explicitly throughout here, the “no, of course there’s nothing sinister about me doing these things, that’s just how you’re interpreting them because of Angband and it’s really offensive of you to compare me to the Dark Lord” is incredibly insidious and makes me really angry! Unfortunately it will only get worse from here. 

Author’s note: Maedhros was caught off guard here and his shock as well as his guilt is used to manipulate him into thinking this is legitimate procedure however he soon starts to understand more how dangerous Arafinwë and please know that he becomes an absolute nightmare to hold hostage. Or well he’s not currently a hostage but he’s soon to be

There is more about why Ara is doing this linked in the AU masterlist and more will become known as the story progresses! 

More backstory here:

Maedhros is attending a formal event near Alqualondë and is accosted by another elf. Unable to wrangle the truth from the ages of pre-existing biases and feuds, Teleri soldiers arrest both the accoster and Maedhros who finds himself fighting against unpleasant memories of being confined and restrained.  He’s alone in his cell, trying not to flinch whenever a guard comes by and alternating rapidly between the instinct to fight and scream and lash out and the instinct to hide and be subdued. He sees the guards stop and bow and he stands and walks to the door and sees Arafinwë. To his astonishment, he’s told that Arafinwë has agreed to have him released into his custody. He can’t leave the city for a few days, at least not until the matter gets sorted out. Maedhros starts to refuse just on instinct, saying it’s not necessary, etc. Arafinwë looks loftily at him.

“Do not speak foolishness, Russandol. Come with me.” And the guards unlock the door and nod to him and he can’t exactly insist on staying in prison especially because he is actually innocent in this encounter so he agrees reluctantly and follows Arafinwë to his carriage.

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 5]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: !!DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF A PANIC ATTACK!!; Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

Note from the authors: Hello dear readers! This chapter, as mentioned in the warnings above, has a detailed description of a panic attack which might be highly triggering for some individuals. That being said this chapter is NOT A MUST-READ. You can understand the further progression of the story perfectly well without reading this chapter. If you decide to skip this chapter, which we recommend if you are easily triggered, we’ll be seeing you in the next chapter. If you’re sticking around for the ride, enjoy 🖤🖤🖤

“headed for a breakdown“

“I’ll catch you later, feel free to text me anytime.” Cora smiles warmly, standing outside Corpse’s apartment complex, where they’ve spent almost half an hour just talking in his car before she finally mentioned she had to get going which led to them both stepping out of the car and into the late afternoon air. At first, Corpse thought it must have been something he had said or did but before the panic could start eating away at his calmness, Cora was quick to reassure him, promising she had a client meeting her in about two hours which is why she needed to get going.

Now he finds himself standing in his apartment, feeling cold and alone. He feels like a huge chunk is missing from his life now, despite that very chunk not even being a part of it just a few hours prior. He allowed Cora to bring him some happiness, relief and ease for those few hours, and now that she’s gone, he realizes how unprepared he is to be dealing with his loneliness again. He’s aware he shouldn’t get this attached to someone he barely knows, or to anyone really, but she made him feel so much, and none of the feelings unpleasant: she allowed him security, safety, comfort; she gave him some of the most genuine laughs of his life, managed to speed up his heart because of excitement and joy, not anxiety or insecurity. She provided him with what he’s been longing for for so long, and she did all that in less than a day.

With all that taken into consideration, one would find him missing her more than reasonable, but Corpse isn’t so easy on himself. Quite the contrary actually, he’s scolding himself for it in this very moment as he paces the living room. 

He shifts from one foot to the other, tipping his head down as he carefully toes off his shoes. He stops in one spot suddenly, feeling himself consumed by the deafening silence, a lump starting to form in his throat as well as tightness building in his jaw. The telling sign. His eyes sting, burning red and painful. His head is swarmed, buzzing statically like a TV on a dead air channel.

I fucked up

I fuck everything up

I am a fuck up

These thoughts begin to cloud his brain with such intensity there is no way of him even having a chance at fighting them or pushing them away. They take firm hold on his brain and refuse to let go. He’s no stranger to them but that doesn’t mean he has any defenses ready for when they show themselves. He’s helpless and hopeless even after all the times he’s had to deal with them though it seems like they get progressively stronger instead of weaker.

This time, they appear the strongest yet.

Tears burn his eyes so he covers one eye with the palm of his hand in a hopeless attempt at keeping them at bay, choking out a soft noise from his throat as everything starts welling up in his heart, causing him excruciating pain in his chest. 

He’s sure he did something wrong. Said the wrong thing. Had the wrong reaction. Messed something up. 

He plays every second back in his mind over and over again, searching between the lines of conversation, skimming through each word they exchanged for something, anything that would indicate that his worries and anxiety are grounded and concrete. His heart is galloping, his mind is going haywire. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, how to defend himself against the raging storm that has taken over his head and the incoming waves of negativity that are for sure to attack him in the horrible, painful minutes to come.

He wants to sit down, lie down, anything just to get off his shaking feet and relieve his knees that are threatening to give up on him any second now. However, he simultaneously wants to punch a wall, a mirror, break something, ruin something as a piece of evidence that he always ruins things for himself and others. That he is exactly what he claims to be - a fuck up.

You aren’t worth it

You aren’t good enough

You are never good enough

People deserve better than you

They don’t want you around

She doesn’t want you

AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT

His mind races, spins, betrays him, leaves him to drown in the darkness that is slowly consuming him. The room feels both too big and too small at the same time, suffocating yet he feels so small in comparison to it. His knees finally give, let him down just like his mind has and he drops down to his knees, clutching at his chest. Breaths come at a rapid pace as he starts hyperventilating, wheezing and sobbing with each passing moment, barely able to squeeze enough air into his lungs as to not pass out. He digs his nails into the carpet in desperate attempts to ease the pain or just to keep himself awake and stable, as stable as he could possibly be during a panic attack.

Pity Grief  Loneliness Disgust  Sorrow Dread

His checkpoint isn’t here and the demons in his head are telling him she’ll never be again. Telling him he isn’t worth it, telling him she deserves better and shouldn’t be wasting her time on him anyway. 

He forces himself to his still and even more so unsteady feet, swaying dangerously before finding some weak stability to carry himself to his room to avoid being any more miserable than he already is by lying on the floor. His body doesn’t seem to agree with him though, flashing warning signs at him that he shouldn’t be standing up right now. He ignores all the warnings, the clouded and then vignetted vision, the much harder process of breathing and the retching that is steadily climbing from the pit of his stomach up towards his throat.

All signs telling him this is not a battle he can win.  

                                                               *  *  *

Corpse wakes up on the floor, having dropped before he could reach his bed, vomit beside him. His breathing is shaky, almost as much as his hands. Ignoring the warning signs yet again he pushes himself in a sitting position, causing his head to spin even worse due to the sudden movement which is the last thing he needed in this state the panic attack has left him in.

I blacked out. I can’t even have a panic attack right, He thinks to himself, the toxicity remaining in his mind just to pollute it for the next couple of days or so.

He’s trembling horribly yet he still chooses to not allow himself the rest he so desperately needs and instead gets up onto his feet to clean the mess on the carpet he’ll probably need to buy a stain remover for. His jaw clenches, his shaking hands doing a poor job at making anything better, actually worsening the situation he’s trying to fix. With another fail added to his list of fuck ups, he gives up on the carpet, removing his stained sweatshirt with force and throwing it across the room before he climbs into bed, wrapping the blankets around him like a safety cocoon.

Just as he thinks he’s about to drift off to sleep, his only refuge, his phone chimes, startling him more than it probably should’ve.

Out of instinct, he reaches out and fishes for it among the many items littering his nightstand. Finally feeling the rectangular device under his touch, he retrieves it and checks what the chime is alerting him of.

It’s a text from an unknown number but the message’s content clears up the identity of the sender right away.

Digital Checkpoint activated. Reply to save progress. 💜 — Cora

With minimal contemplation he replies seconds later.

Corpse: save

Cora: your progress has been saved. Thank you for choosing A.S.S. - the Automated Save System. You are now free to activate the digital checkpoint at any time. 

Cora: I had a nice time. Text me whenever you need to. We’ll hang out again soon, deal?

Corpse: thank you

Cora: anytime sugar ;)

Funny how a text exchange so simple and short can turn so much around for a person. Funny how a huge weight lifts off him the second he locks his phone, suddenly finding it easier to breathe, to move, to blink, to function - to live. She gives him that kick he needs to be reminded to live and not just be alive. He’s still not comfortable with how much he’s relying on her but seeing her effect on him is nothing but positive, the most and best thing he can do for himself is go with the flow and let things happen. No overthinking, no planning, no shooting guesses, just facing things as they come face-to-face with him. He may never get used to it, but he won’t know that until he tries, will he?

@fockingwhore  @vixenl  @annshit  @wineandionysus  @wiseflamingoqueen

[beebrainedstudios]

A Few Notes About ADSOM’s Writing/Themes Type Stuff

Because I’m in the mood to ramble and have a few opinions about some smaller things in the series that I actually think are really cool/smart writing. This is all personal opinion and is based on a bunch of half-formed thoughts and realizations, so if you disagree or think I missed something, please know I probably did, I’m just jotting this down for fun and have not fully explored all these concepts yet. They just seem neat at first glance. Also, other books have probably done some of this stuff too; I’m not saying Schwab is the only one who’s done any of this stuff, I’m just saying that it’s cool that it’s in ADSOM. 

- First of all, props to Schwab for Alucard. I know there have been plenty of authors who have brought new characters in later in a series with no prior warning, but I have rarely seen one so immediately popular and gripping in a trilogy as Alucard except for Finnick from the Hunger Games. Alucard’s introduction doesn’t come at the cost of another character (as in, he’s not there to make someone who’s supposed to be bad look even worse) and his arc doesn’t supersede anyone else’s. He’s great, and the fact that he is generally considered part of the main group despite being introduced a whole book later is awesome and a testament to his character. 

- Sort-of connected to the previous point, but I think one of the reasons Alucard works so well is that he doesn’t have a giant arc. Everyone else in the series has a fairly complex internal conflict going on (excluding Lila, but she still has a long arc even if it’s shallow) and Alucard does too, but his is one that suits his shorter presence in the story; he doesn’t have to become king/learn to stop running from responsibility/change allegiances every five minutes. He just has to figure out how to confess a painful secret to several people who aren’t willing to listen. Schwab, especially in ADSOM, isn’t afraid to give characters different size arcs at different times; if you graphed them all, it wouldn’t be a bunch of near-identical lines that could be mistaken for one, it’d be a bunch of crazy curves that start and end at different times and reach different heights. When authors who have larger casts do this, it instantly makes the story twice as engaging. Alucard’s just a good example of this.

- I know this one’s a bit more controversial, but Kell/Lila actually has a lot of narrative potential for Threads of Power. In the main series, it’s framed against Rhy/Alucard, which is already an established relationship (even if it took a break) where the two characters know each other well; this is why, once Alucard can confirm he never meant to leave, the two get back together relatively smoothly and happily. Their relationship is much more matured than Kell and Lila’s, which is why Kell/Lila’s chemistry can sometimes read as a little strange (at least to me), and why I don’t think it’s necessarily a perfect relationship just yet. Lila is a very strong personality with a bit of a demanding streak; Kell in turn has a massive problem with caving to others and refusing to stand up for himself (I’m gonna talk about this later). Left unchecked, this will become a problem, but if addressed in Threads of Power, it can lead to two really engaging arcs with Kell learning he does not have to be everyone’s emotional punching bag and with Lila learning that it isn’t enough to just stay in a relationship- there has to be give and take, something she hasn’t demonstrated well yet. Maybe they’ll even take a break in Threads of Power to give the pair time to mature (I’m personally rooting for Alucard and Kell to somehow get stuck together while Lila gets stuck with Rhy). IDK, I think Kell/Lila is cool, especially when taken as a work in progress over a fully fledged relationship.

- This is part of the previous point and part of the following one, but I think the fact that Kell’s personality and problems are largely focused on his tendency to avoid conflict is a really cool idea for a protagonist, especially a man (note that I’m not calling him weak here). This may not sound like Kell’s personality, but let me explain. Kell is insanely noncombative, and almost everything he does to try and solve a problem reads to me as him actively trying to avoid confronting someone about it. “I don’t feel like part of the royal family because I have no princely attributes despite being one in name, and while I acknowledge I’m lucky I still can’t get rid of these feelings”- Smuggles instead of talking to the Maresh (he tried with Rhy and Lila and look how that turned out). “I’m feeling pent-up because I almost died multiple times in less than twenty-four hours/have trauma and am being punished with isolation/no longer even being called a son despite the fact my magic acts up when this happens”- Competes in the Essen Tasch instead of talking to Maxim. “I hate you because you hurt my brother’s feelings when you abandoned him and I had to pick up the pieces”- Consistently antagonizes Alucard instead of really confronting him/letting him explain himself because that would mean that Kell’s ingrained-trained protectiveness of Rhy has caused another problem. Kell is a character who seems very proud and sure of himself, but when one looks closer, he actually has very little confidence. He has no self-respect, and that sets him up great for his narrative foil- Holland.

- Holland and Kell have a complex narrative relationship as two very well developed foils, and a lot of this has been addressed by the fandom before, but one of the most interesting points I haven’t seen much of is their thematic exploration of respect vs pride. Holland is a character who doesn’t like himself- this much is obvious- but while he takes no pride in his own actions, he has an insane amount of self-respect. He has to be literally forced into following another’s will, he doesn’t let other people’s opinions get himself down, he gives as good as he gets always no matter how hard it is. Holland has to be beaten into submission, and even then he simmers with righteous anger over it because he knows he should get to make his own choices. Holland has self-respect; I may hate myself, but that doesn’t mean I will let you disrespect me. 

Meanwhile, Kell is a people-pleaser who puts on a facade of confidence who never actually uses it. Kell has pride in himself- in things like his magic, his coat, his wit- but he doesn’t actually have a lot of self-respect. He folds to anyone who is more demanding than him (AKA everyone else in the series), and the other characters abuse this constantly. Rhy, whether he means to or not, uses his influence over Kell to keep him from standing up to the Maresh over their constantly-shifting parenting positions. Maxim and Emira use their affection and respect like bait to get Kell to do what they want even when he’s uncomfortable. Lila can yell at Kell about his upbringing or accuse him of overprotectiveness (sometimes fairly, sometimes not) and Kell will simply stop talking. Kell just lets this happen; he doesn’t ever stand up for himself because he has been convinced things are usually his fault. I may like myself just fine, but I will let you walk all over me because it’s not my place to stop you and I’m probably the problem and also I shouldn’t have wanted XYZ in the first place. It doesn’t matter how much Kell debates with himself if he started the conflict or if he rails against the way he’s addressed- as long as Kell isn’t respected by his loved ones or the people around him, he won’t respect himself, and that is simultaneously really interesting and really, really sad. 

- Also on the Holland and Kell front, Holland using Kell as the metaphorical scapegoat for his issues makes perfect sense, especially since I think he actually knows he isn’t in the right. Kell is often in places where Holland is at least uncomfortable and at worst in pain, and he is the tangible representation of Red London, the world Holland hates most of all. I’m convinced Holland’s brain put two and two together, which is why Holland often punishes/hurts/hates Kell for Red London’s systemic issues even when it is obvious to everyone involved Kell isn’t to blame. Holland lashes out at Kell in their first meeting because he’s offended that Red London is successful and White London is not; this isn’t Kell’s fault. He blames Kell for a)killing him and b)killing the Danes and stealing his vengeance; this also isn’t Kell’s fault. He even seems to get a little bit of satisfaction over the idea of sicking Osaron on Red London through Kell, despite the fact that making a deal with Osaron wasn’t Kell’s idea either; it was Holland’s (Kell didn’t have a choice to kill him and didn’t think he’d survive, but Holland still seems to interpret it as Kell banishing him to Black London, even though he would absolutely do the same thing in his shoes). Holland is a very angry person and Kell is unfortunately put in his way a lot, but I still think it’s neat that the very-rational Holland seems to have an awareness that this behavior isn’t fair/has unfair intentions but still is unwilling to stop anyway. He’s using this grudge as a coping mechanism and that feels really realistic to me.

- Minor point here, but the knowledge that eye color and stuff is incredibly varied and changes with magic use makes my little artist heart very happy indeed. 

- I’m a big Osaron fan, and one of the things about him that I think is really cool is how completely unconcerned with revenge he is. Yes, he holds grudges against the Antari, but he doesn’t seem to care that he got locked in Black London for centuries. He has taken no personal offense over it, and that makes him seem even more inhuman to me- Holland spent like six hours in Black London and he carried that grudge for ages. Also, his complete certainty that he was not going to repeat the Black Plague in Red London is hilarious to me- he’s like a dog that keeps knocking its toy somewhere it can’t reach because it doesn’t compute that repeating the same action will always have the same result. Surely this won’t go wrong again, Osaron thinks, as the world once again starts dying off. He’s kind of an idiot, and I love that.

- The fact that Kamerov is both a knight and silver themed during a time when Rhy is throwing himself into his role as the Golden Prince may be unintentional, but is still cool nonetheless.

[honestlynoragami]

Humanism & Acceptance of Past Mistakes (Part 3)

Touma

Like Yato, the Goddess of War, Bishamon, also has a Regalia dear to her that she would never forget. Touma was one of the children Regalia from the 'Ma' clan and Kazuma's precious friend. Contrary to how she was introduced, Bishamon is a really kind and compassionate deity, she sees every each one of her spirits she took in as her cherished children. Touma's vessel form was said to be a pot lid so unlike the others who could assist Bishamon in the battlefield, she didn't get a lot of chance to talk let alone spend time with her.

To Kazuma, even though they started out awkward at first but with Touma's active encouragement and constant support to get him to the top with her so they could be of more use to Bishamon, she was his tutor, closest friend and sister. Because that Kazuma's vessel form was only a nail that could penetrate Bishamon's ear like an earring, he was considered worthless and would bring nothing but bad omen for piercing their master's body. This pushed Kazuma and Touma to become closer as they had a lot in common with each other.

In my previous post 'The Relationship Between Master & Regalia' that heavily focused on the relationships within the Bishamon's household, I mentioned how punishment by ablution upon the suspected Regalia guilty of blighting their master is a principle that has been strictly followed by Bishamon's Regalia, led by their exemplar. This can be seen when, one day, Bishamon started feeling unwell and showed signs of being blighted. The exemplar at the time was a stern elderly woman who Touma called 'Grandma,' threatened to have every single Regalia go through a purification ritual if the one responsible for Bishamon's ailing state refuse to expose themselves.

The threat did nothing but accelerated Bishamon's pain and suffering as her Regalia started to restlessly suspect one another. On top of refusing to listen to other Regalia and blaming anybody she could think of, she had her attention fixed on Touma who advised her to "unite everyone in the search for the culprit" and accused her for blighting their master. To make matters worse, instead of performing a purification ritual and giving her another chance, Touma was mercilessly thrown off of a cliff and into a pit of evil spirits and Phantoms where she could be devoured without even a piece of her left.

By using the incident involving Touma's unfair death, AdachiToka depict the abuse of power and authority which can be seen from the exemplar's ignorant and self-centered attitude. As the guide for Regalia and their God, she claimed to be a figure who could never make mistakes nor errors so thus, her words were supposed to be just as absolute as the Gods'. Touma's character and her brief appearance in the story made a significant impact to not just Bishamon and Kazuma but also the victims who have suffered from power abuse and mistreatment. I believe Touma was employed as a voice for the said victims who fear to speak up or whose voices are silent due difference in class or position.

The tragedy left everyone dead in the slaughter by a certain God of Calamity and only Kazuma survived. As a survivor of the now deceased Ma clan, instead of changing his name to fit her newly formed clan Bishamon wanted to keep Kazuma as an evidence to the existence of the Ma clan and a reminder of her "mistake" for failing to protect her people as their God.

Even though they are divine beings, AdachiToka portray them to be full of flaws, bear humane emotions and dreams as well as capable of being emotionally attached to the Near Shore. Considering the fact that, in the series, the nature of the gods’ existence began from a single human wish until a god is materialized, the way the Heavens and the Gods are drawn with human characteristics too further show how they are no different than the Near Shore and mankind has their own capabilities. In fact, it has been brought up by one of the Gods of Fortune, Ebisu, how humans don't always need Gods to solve their problems, the Gods only provide while humans help one another and are capable of developing further with what they were given. Thus, the representation of such respected and worshipped divinities to have human characteristics and flaws show how significant it is to embrace mankind and appreciate the achievements as well as advancements in the world. that were done by our own hands. 

References:

https://noragami.fandom.com/wiki/Touma

https://noragami-mangaa.com/manga/noragami-chapter-23/

[hopeymchope]

Anon finally figured out The Definitive Answer for why so many people worship Bakugo, because there's a blog post by lovecrafts-iranon where, refreshingly, he actually comes right out and SAYS the reason why fandoms worship assholes: he thinks Dudley should have been Harry Potter's protagonist instead of Potter himself, because "good people doing good things are a boring snooze, while cruel and vicious people are entertaining." So he, and others like him, judge morality by "what entertains me".

Wow. I found that Dudley post, and it has SO MANY notes, and NOT EVEN ONE OF THEM IS SOMEONE DISAGREEING. How is that possible?

But I'd like to take a moment to look at this post in more (i.e. WAY TOO MUCH) depth. With pull quotes!

There is so much potential for growth, and at a nice slow pace because he would need to be dragged kicking and screaming every step of the way and have several reversions.

I guess it's true that he'd have to go through a lot more radical change than Harry did. And that would definitely be interesting to see unfurl, in a fashion. But Harry has to learn self-confidence, learn to cope with death (in the sense that he has to process it for the first time), learn to accept the things he can't change... all the things that people in the targeted demographic age of the readership are simultaneously dealing with. Dudley, on the other hand, doesn't have any reason to learn most of that stuff. He's only relatable to readers who are also massive assholes. Dudley's already overconfident - he's full of himself, and him being told that he's basically the Chosen One will only make it much worse. Will he have to cope with death? I mean, maybe someday. But we start with him only caring about himself, so it's unlikely he'd be too terribly affected if someone died in front of him. That would require him to care about someone else. And learning to accept that he can't change everything is something he'd probably struggle with in a semi-interesting fashion, but do you want to watch a spoiled brat who believes he can scream until he gets his way FINALLY start to learn that maybe he should stop screaming and start facing facts? Shit, that just sounds like modern politics. And coping with people who can't face reality is intolerable and infuriating.

Magic, aside from being not real, is a special kind of repulsive evil [to him]. Merely mentioning magic is the only thing that can temporarily revoke his Specialest Boy status.

I think the author is stating that this is a thing that's true of Dudley in the existing novels? Maybe I'm misunderstanding, and this is something that the author of the post wants to introduce into their AU fanfic. If it's the former, however, then I want to point out that there's no evidence that Dudley held any opinions at all on magic before Harry was declared a wizard. His parents sure did, but they never spoke of magic and refused to acknowledge it, so they naturally never said a word to Dudley about it.

So Dudley actually has no reason to be repulsed by the notion of being a wizard. In all likelihood, he'd be overjoyed to be told that he's a super-powered being of importance who everyone in the magical world has heard about. He'd probably want everybody to genuflect when he entered every room from then on. (I am assuming that Dudley must still be the one who has to eventually defeat Voldemort according to prophecy, but I guess he wouldn't be "The Boy Who Lived." His parents were obviously never killed; the fact that they raised him a certain way is what defines his character. He'd need some other kind of legend to cause his fame.)

Harry would never cause problems on purpose, while Dudley would never stop doing so at Hogwarts!

A character who is actively the source of all the trouble they're in isn't remotely sympathetic; I root AGAINST that kind of character. I want LESS of them. I want them to lose.

That's actually part of why I hated the new Snake Eyes movie — every bad thing that happens can logically be laid at Henry "Snake Eyes" Golding's own [probably gorgeous] feet. I'm not rooting for someone like that.

Harry gets to experience friendship and acceptance for the first time, snooze, while Dudley would have to face lack of friendship and rejection for the first time (there is nobody who wouldn't be put off by 'hates magic' even if they were fine with the rest of his personality)! Now that's fascinating!

I still think seeing a lonely boy with no sense of self-worth make his first friends is interesting. But I admit that Dudley facing rejection and lack of friendship for the first time DOES sound fascinating. The author has got me there.

And imagine him going home for Christmas break loudly announcing how happy he is to get away from all those awful wizards only to find out his parents treat him much differently now, their love having been completely conditional all along.

Would it be, though? I guess this is up to the perception of the author, but I kind of imagine Vernon and Petunia taking it as a personal victory if their own spawn is declared the special Chosen One. Their kid being a powerful wizard known around the world, and Lily's kid being no one in particular? They'd visit Lily's grave for the first time ever just so they could dance on it.

I could go on and on. I remember looking to see if there was any Dudley goes to Hogwarts fic as a kid and there was one popular one, but it let Harry go too (boo, the realization there might be something wrong with how his adopted brother is being treated back at home should be a shocking revelation to him), let Dudley become too nice too fast (it should be a long, drawn out process where he never gives an inch he doesn't absolutely have to!) and was too easy on him (characters suffering is good).

Author is assuming that Dudley - now christened a mighty wizard of destiny, the literal Chosen One - would actually perceive of there being something wrong with how his lowly muggle cousin was treated. I'd say: Highly doubtful. He'd just continue to be an asshole about it.

And the longer you drag out an asshole getting redeemed, the more I'm going to feel like "Well I don't fucking care if they get redeemed by this point; they've had every possible chance and every possible piece of evidence thrown at them, and they chose to remain an asshole, so fuck them. They deserve nothing."

At least the author wants Dudley to suffer. Not that I agree with the notion that characters suffering is automatically good, but asshole characters DO often deserve that shit.

BOTTOM LINE: I... just... I guess I shouldn't be surprised that people would actually WANT to focus on horrible assholes? That people want those fuckers to be the heroes instead of actually decent human beings? Because there are so many awful people in the world, so I guess it must be relatable enough for them. But dammit, I'm still surprised.

No, no, no. FUCK no. Being an asshole does not inherently make someone interesting; it just makes them an asshole. They deserve to be punished, not celebrated. They might still be interesting as an antagonist, but I'm sure as hell not going to root for them. And if you're going to insist on spending valuable focus time on these characters, you'd better at least be acknowledging that they are the VILLAIN of the story.

Which is honestly a more logical role for Dudley anyway. If Voldemort told Dudley that he's an exceptional being and that the inferior muggles else should be made to serve at his feet? Dudley would totally go for that. He'd become the whiniest, brattiest Death Eater.

Besides, Dudley is a particularly weird choice for their post, because he's NOT interesting! Not even as an antagonist! Dudley only exists as a one-note plot device. He deserves no attention.

[horrorslashergirl]

May I request another part of Another chance to start off?

Chromeskull x Reader- Another chance to start off Part 4

Authors Note: This oneshot that turned into a story. I almost forgot about it. Also adding some Jesse Childhood Ideas because why not? 

Warnings: 18+ because of childhood abuse and disturbing themes about little Jesse

Words: 1.7k

Part 1 here 

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

It's been two months and you still haven't heard anything from your so-called 'hero' other than the fact that he was on business as his assistant, Spann, called it. That left you to take care of your baby, but still no ability to go out of his place, save for the huge lawn around the palatial villa that you now resided in.

You didn't know anything about this man, and Spann refused to give you any details because it wasn't her place to spoke of such personal details, and according to her, it was his business to tell you, leaving you with tons of question about Jesse, at last, you knew his name.

Considering how much of a serious and sophisticated security system he had, you could only guess he was an important man. You took liberties when your little buddle of joy was sleeping to explore the villa. You agreed that his favorite colors were black, white, and accents of silver chrome and he definitely had an affiliation with skulls, and he had very expensive tastes in everything down from his cars to his clothes to the smallest things.

You were currently sitting on an armchair next to the crib of your baby waiting for your daughter to wake up and feed her.

--------------------------------------------------

Jesse Cromeans had a lot of issues and as big as his 6'7 tall frame he was a handful package; a bad temper, certain sadistic urges, a sassy attitude that made tons of enemies, not like any of them dared to go against him, but little people to probably none knew the whole story behind who he truly was.

One who was very observant could possibly tell that Jesse had mommy issues, considering his victims were all female, save for the brown-nosing males that were just collateral victims.

As a little boy, he was very shy, and his muteness didn't help him either. His family was always a mystery to most who knew him, but none dared to ask him about his relatives, not like in the present he had any. He didn't know his father, and he was always curious as a little boy about who his daddy was.

His mother, from the remaining memories, was a very beautiful woman, giving birth at a young age of twenties to little Jesse. His father didn't want to take the responsibility of raising a child, especially a disabled one, so he pretty much vanished after his mother gave birth to Jesse.

She was still young and clueless about raising a child, alas she took the responsibility and tried, for three years until she was diagnosed with bone cancer. Young mother at the flower of age with such a severe form of cancer was definitely a nightmare and it only persisted until Jesse was six and she died, leaving him to what he knew was the grandfather of his own daddy.

When Jesse asked his grandfather about his dad, the old man simply said that he shouldn't worry about dead bodies like that. His grandfather was a mortician, owning a funeral home company, that left Jesse with spending most of his time there, with the corpses. At first, he was just playing in the hallways, until he got curious and walked into a room, his brown innocent eyes widening at the scene.

That really scarred his mind, his grandfather on top of a dead woman's body...

It only turned worse when his legal guardian, his grandfather getting the full rights of raising Jesse, indulged the little boy into these activities; the first body being that of his own mother.

That not scarred his mind, it destroyed his psychical health.

That was the start of creating a beast, the beast he was today.

Probably that's why he was drawn to you; you were much younger than he was. What you didn't knew was that ever since you were brought to his place you have been monitored day and night. He loved to watch you nurture your baby, take care of the little human that was made of purity and innocence.

He kind of felt jealous in a way, because he wanted the same affection.

Definitely mommy issues.

Who could really blame him? He didn't exactly have a woman type to look up at, and girls were definitely a subject that was tough for him. In his teen years, girls were looking more up to the loud, obnoxious, and confident ones.

Since he started hitting puberty, he grew in height, and grew, and grew. He was a tall and lanky kind of guy, perhaps very awkward, but very intelligent, despite not getting credit for it.

With girls it was a different story, they didn't have the patience with him and his signing. His teenage years were full of nicknames because of his height, girls making fun of him, teasing him, but not in the cute kind way. He slowly started to realize why his grandfather had certain tastes in...women.

If they are dead, they cannot hurt you. Simple.

Still, from time to time he had that starving for affection, someone to be genuinely there for him.

He remembered after he finished high school...He left his hometown and after years of college and slowly but successfully starting his own business, he changed. The lanky and awkward guy bloomed into a ferocious and manipulative mastermind; pale skin by each year filled with more ink, muscles filling his lanky figure.

Jesse changed.

At first, it felt weird to have such control, but once he got that taste, he never wanted to let it go.

Back in the present days, Jesse didn't know what to think of you; he was probably pitying you, although that was highly unlike him. He pities none but seeing you watch over your offspring like a protective mother made his heartbeat in a way he didn't know it was possible.

He took a sip of his whiskey as he looked at the computer screen; tomorrow he will get back home to you and perhaps get to an arrangement, after all, you were wearing his family name.

------------------------------------------------------

It was morning, but you were awake for three hours, now you just finished feeding your daughter and she closed her eyes; after all, it was still the period of the baby that she needed more sleep than an adult, so you tucked her in, smiling at her angelic face.

You heard the door slightly open and turned around, expecting Spann, but you were surprised to see Jesse, your eyes quickly turning into a slight glare, getting in front of the baby's crib like a shielding mother lion.

Jesse found many things attractive on a female, but this was definitely something that triggered a more primal part of his male instincts. There was just something mesmerizing about a mother that protects her baby.

He pulled out his phone to type.

'We need to talk.' the electronic voice spoke, making you furrow your brows.

Despite wanting to give him a piece of your mind, you learned from your past relationship, if you could call it that, that yelling and throwing tantrums won't solve a problem, so you nodded, taking a glance at your baby, not exactly feeling like leaving.

'Spann will look over her while we discuss.' he spoke through the phone.

You followed him downstairs to his study, opening the door for you to enter then closing it to have privacy. You sat down on one of the armchairs in front of his desk, while he took his designated place behind the huge black desk.

'I know things have been inconvenient.'

You snorted at that.

"More like very chaotic. Look...I am very mad by this whole kidnapping-owning thing, but I also knew I should be grateful to you for saving me from my now dead abusive husband, which reminds me....You killed him...and it didn't look like it was your first time." you spoke in a firm voice.

Jesse smirked at that. Smart one...That's good.

'Then I should probably let you know everything.'

He began to explain everything, down from his facade chroming business to the real deal of the organization, everything about killing, snuff films, and piggies. It was like someone was telling you a horror story, leaving you shocked and disgusted.

"Great....so basically now I am involved in a mafia kind of thing." you sarcastically said, rubbing your forehead in exasperation.

'You can take it like that.' He waved it off, shrugging.

You sighed, then looked at him.

"What will happen to me?" you asked, pursing your lips into a thin line.

'Nothing. If I wanted you dead, you would have been from that night we meet.'

"That really relaxes me." you snorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

'I will protect you and your daughter.'

That surprised you. Why was he so willing to help a woman he barely knew and her baby? You tried to find an answer yourself but decided to ask him and his answer was ever more so intriguing you.

'No child deserves to grow without parents.'

He looked like he knew what he meant, perhaps he went through the same ordeal, without family, but it was too early to ask him such sensitive topics since you didn't know each other that good.

"So, you basically want me as your wife?" you asked in amusement, but his look showed that he was serious.

'I'm not forcing you. It's your choice.'

You huffed then decided.

"Probably too early...Can I, at last, get to know my future husband?" you asked, sassiness dripping from your voice, but behind it, it was sincerity.

Jesse was to say it, surprised by your words, and couldn't help but give you a toothy grin. He got up from his chair and walked towards you. You got up as well and were a little nervous when he was just inches away from you, his fingers typing on his phone.

'Tonight. Dinner. Spann will babysit your daughter. You need some quality time.'

You thought a little about it and decided that everyone deserved a chance to start off.

"Yes. I would like that."

Jesse smirked in victory and leaned down to kiss you, only for your index finger to press gently against his scarred lips.

"Don't push your luck." you said with a cheeky smile, making him chuckle silently.

Yes, indeed everyone deserved another chance to start off.

[ace-oreos]

Alpha-17 back on Kamino, taking Anakins suggestion and helping the clones come up with names and describing what working with jedi will be like. Also i like the idea of the clones asking why he SO scarred and hes like now thats a good story and watch out for general kenobi he gets into stuff and only after they meet him and anakin are they like "Oh now i get it."

Anon! I got SO. EXCITED. when I got this! Alpha is such a great character and I really enjoy working with him. Thanks for the prompt! I hope it hits everything you asked for. :) 

Kamino is… even worse than he remembers, quite honestly. If not for the verd’ike, Alpha would be more than tempted to burn the place to the ground and be done with it. 

(It’s not the first time the thought has ever crossed his mind, and it’s certainly not the last.)

But at least he doesn’t have to deal with Kenobi or Skywalker anymore. 

Which is a plus, all things considered. Rattatak had been rough, to put it lightly - much more so than he’d let on, partly to ward off potential concern from Kenobi and partly because he refuses to admit it to himself.  

Of course, he’s traded the Jedi for a batch of cadets who are entirely too boisterous for their own good. Kenobi is still stuck with Skywalker as far as he knows, and sometimes he can’t help wondering who got the better deal.

(Then again, knowing Kenobi, he’d be all too happy to spread some osik about serenity and inner balance or something equally revolting.)

Alpha suspects it’s a product of Jango’s teaching that he’d initially headed into this assignment with high expectations for the command batch. In retrospect, he can’t for the life of him fathom where he’d acquired that notion - every single cadet under his command is the embodiment of chaos with a healthy disrespect for authority. 

He’s not one to talk, but as an officer - and a recently promoted officer at that - he feels that it’s his duty to try to uphold the command structure of the GAR. 

Still, he can’t help feeling a sense of grim satisfaction whenever one of the di’kute fires back a retort at the Kaminiise or one of the nat-born instructors. Normally any deviant behavior would be smothered for fear of reconditioning, but the Kaminiise know better than to cross him. He’s one of Jango’s, after all. 

Fett may have been a rotten father, but Alpha has a grudging respect for the man’s ability to keep them all in line for twelve years. Wrangling these cadets is exhausting; he can only be grateful that they’ll be rotated out in a few months. 

(Truthfully, he hasn’t been able to shake a sense of bone-deep fatigue since Rattatak, but that’s no one’s business but his own.) 

No one could ever accuse him of going easy on his cadets, but even he knows that every soldier needs a break sometimes. Taking a second to breathe does wonders for morale. 

Unfortunately, it also invites the possibility of conversation with the verd’ike. He’s never been as inclined to idle conversation like many of his brothers, but he’s pleasantly surprised when the rambunctious boys he’s slowly becoming accustomed to prove to be much more insightful than he’d previously imagined.

He indulges their curiosity some days. More often than not their interest lies with the Jedi they’ll be serving with soon enough, so he does his best to share an adequate depiction. They’re not omnipotent tactical masterminds like the clones had been raised to believe, Alpha warns, but they’re decent officers for the most part. 

“You served with General Kenobi, didn’t you, sir?” one of the cadets asks. 

Alpha barely suppresses the first sarcastic remark that comes to mind and instead settles for a nod and a noncommittal shrug. 

“And?” one of the other boys pipes up. 

“And what?” 

“What did you think of him?”

Well, for one thing, he’s a kriffing Jedi playing at being a politician while having at least one affair that’s strictly forbidden by his creed… 

“He’s a good officer,” Alpha says at last. “Gets a bit high-minded, and we rarely ever saw eye to eye, but he listens to his men.”

He’s been sure to drill that into them over and over, because if there’s one thing he wants them to retain it’s that soldiers will follow a commander into hell if he makes an effort to connect with them. 

“What really happened on Rattatak?” 

The question catches him off guard. For a second he has half a mind to deflect it - it’s a long story, for one thing, and an unpleasant one at that - but these cadets will be shipping out soon. He’ll have little say in things once they deploy, but he can certainly do his best to prepare them now. 

Besides, Alpha can’t fault them for wanting to explore the galaxy beyond Kamino through any outlet available. Being slated for a command slot can be isolating, and they’ve heard enough about the galaxy from older troopers to be ravingly curious about what awaits them once they step foot outside Tipoca. 

“It’s really not that interesting,” he sighs in a last-ditch effort to deter them. 

Sadly, they seem content to wait him out. 

Shabla cadets and their shabla games. 

Grumbling - they look far too smug for having secured such a minor victory - Alpha opts to give them a vague overview rather than a meticulous account of everything that had taken place after Ventress had seen fit to interfere on Jabiim. 

“The campaign on Jabiim was tipping in Separatist favor…” 

_____________________

Skywalker may be a pain in the shebs, but Alpha is coming to realize that the kid had a point about naming the cadets. It hadn’t been much of a priority among the Alpha batch, but it seems to be something extraordinary for the later generations. 

Most times, the kids don’t tell Alpha directly that they’ve chosen a name for themselves; rather, he learns to listen to the quiet discussions between squad mates, and makes a point of using those names rather than the designations they’d been assigned at birth.

Sometimes a cadet’s delight gets the better of him and he blurts it out during an exercise. Alpha rarely reacts in the moment, but he makes sure to give an acknowledgement when they’re off-duty. 

After a while, their names spring to mind before their numbers. Cody, Bacara, Gree… he still can’t determine what exactly the change signals, but he can see it in their eyes. It’s a source of pride, and who is he to deny them? 

Besides, he thinks wryly, it’s better than an unruly Padawan deciding to bestow a nickname upon them in the middle of a war zone.

______________________

The cadets seem to be under the impression that stories from the battlefield will become a regular fixture in their routine. Alpha doesn’t let that notion stand very long, but he occasionally allows their questions after a successful exercise or a particularly impressive sparring match. 

They’ve gotten even bolder since he first took command; apparently, no question is off limits. 

“You’ve got an awful lot of scars, sir,” one of the boys observes. From the tone, Alpha guesses it’s Bly. 

“Very astute, cadet,” Alpha huffs. “I’m glad my training isn’t wasted on you.” 

“Are they all from Rattatak?” 

“For one thing, I honestly don’t remember how I got every single scar, and for another, I’m not here to tell you stories,” Alpha says firmly like he hasn’t spent the past twenty minutes addressing their various questions about his experience with Jedi command. 

“It’s General Kenobi, isn’t it,” Cody pipes up sagely, and in that moment Alpha realizes he’s taught them a little too well. 

“He had something to do with most of them, yes,” Alpha admits. 

“Some officer,” Neyo mutters with his usual cynicism. 

Alpha cuffs him. “Put a lid on it, cadet. I didn’t say they were his fault - it’s just that he was usually involved in one way or another. Kenobi likes to poke his nose in where it isn’t necessarily wanted.”

Most of them look disbelieving. Alpha just shrugs. They’ll figure it out one way or another.

_____________________

Alpha jerks awake sometime around 0300 to the incessant beeping of his comlink. Grumbling to himself, he activates it and rumbles a greeting.

“Hope I didn’t wake you up, sir.” 

“You’re lucky I’m not in theater, or I would smoke your shebs for this one, Cody,” Alpha growls, because even though it’s been a while since the first batch rotated out he vividly remembers every cadet’s distinct inflection and tone. 

“We’ve heard that one before,” Cody says teasingly.

Alpha ignores the jibe. “Spit it out, di’kut.”

Cody hesitates, then bursts out, “How did you do it?”

“Do what?” Alpha asks, awake enough to be puzzled.

“Deal with Kenobi,” Cody whispers. Alpha can’t help being amused by the desperation in his voice. “He’s a disaster on legs, sir.”

“That’s nothing I didn’t know already, al’verde,” Alpha informs him.

“But sir…” 

“You’re the commander. He’s your problem now,” Alpha adds, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Alpha…”

“Give the general my regards, Commander.” 

“Wait - ”

 “Sorry, al’verde. Duty calls.”

If Alpha is smirking when he sets aside his comlink and shuts his eyes in the hopes of getting a few more hours of sleep, no one is the wiser.