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luxcuriousao3 · 5 months ago

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Mutter (Chapter One)

Summary: When he looked at Lelia, truly looked at her without letting his fears and resentment get in the way, all he saw was a sad, scared girl too sweet for her own good. She was so easy to take advantage of, just like his mother had been. König wanted to protect her, and not just because of his instincts. But because in a way, it felt like he would be protecting his mother. Word Count: 5249 Warnings: vague/brief smut, mentions of past domestic/sexual abuse, König has mommy issues and also self-esteem issues and also intimacy issues (he can still get it tho), *** means POV switch, and -*- means timeskip but no POV switch. Notes: A new Leliaverse fic, since some of you showed interest and this has just been rotting in my drafts lol. This one is ABO and KönigxLelia. Dove still takes priority, this is just a side project atm. So updates won't be as regular for this fic. But the chapters are longer lol. I have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! AO3, Masterlist

“I do not want her.”

The tiny omega standing across from König flinched, but otherwise didn’t react to his matter of fact statement. He felt a bit bad for phrasing it in such a harsh way—there wasn’t anything wrong with her, after all. She was beautiful—a petite girl, nearly two whole feet shorter than him with long, loose auburn curls, round, cherubic cheeks, a small nose, and thick lashes. He didn’t know what color her eyes were—she hadn’t bothered to look up at all since walking into the room, and her scent was clouded by fear. It was so potent he was surprised the officer he was speaking to couldn’t smell it, even if she was a beta.

No. It was less that he didn’t want the pretty little omega, and more that he could tell how very much she didn’t want him.

He endured rejection often enough from the beta women he slept with—they never wanted him for more than his huge cock and his even bigger knot, and he’d learned to accept that after a while—and had no desire to constantly be around a woman who was terrified of him. A walking reminder of how unloved he was, and how unloved he always would be.

“Sorry, Colonel, it’s KORTAC’s newest policy,” the beta officer replied. “All unmated Alphas, when on active duty, are to be assigned support omegas to keep them stable and help them through their ruts. Starting with the upper ranks.”

The woman shrugged, then nodded at the omega, who was still staring at the ground.

“She’s yours, now.”

König growled. The beta officer paled a bit, and the omega’s shoulders hunched, like she was trying to make herself smaller.

“I. Do. Not. Want. Her,” he repeated forcefully. “Take her back. Or find me a new one,” he added the last part reluctantly. He didn’t want an omega—any omega. He knew they would all be afraid of him, that none would care about him. But perhaps, if he had to have one, they could give him one that didn’t look like she was two seconds away from bursting into tears just because she was in the same room as him. As pathetic as it was, it stung. He knew he was a monster, completely and utterly undesirable except for his Alpha status. But her terror made him feel like the scum of the earth.

“Each omega volunteer was scent matched to an Alpha to find the best possible fit for all parties involved,” the officer said after a long moment, swallowing nervously. But there was a hardness in her gaze as well. A glimmer of anger. “I’m afraid you can’t simply swap her for a prettier version like she’s some sort of toy. Sir.”

König flushed beneath his sniper hood, feeling like a scolded child. An embarrassed, ashamed child. He cut a glance to the omega again, wincing when he saw her skinny arms wrapped around her middle in a sad parody of a hug.

“That is not—” he started, before cutting himself off with a sigh of frustration. There was no use protesting. This was happening, whether he liked it or not. He would simply do his best to avoid his new roommate. It’s not like they could force him to mate with her. “Fine. Fine. I will take her.”

“Wonderful,” the officer said flatly. “Your omega’s belongings have already been delivered to your quarters, along with additional pillows and blankets to use as nesting materials. Necessities will be provided for her, paid for by the new program.”

König rolled his eyes. Paying for her living expenses was just an excuse to keep him from rejecting their stupid new policy, not a kindness like the beta was making it out to be.

“Come along then, Fräulein,” he said, trying to gentle his tone a bit so as not to terrify her any further. But he couldn’t hide his displeasure with the situation, and it was clear in his voice. She jumped, but then scrambled to follow him, having to run to keep up with his long strides as he walked out of the meeting room. He forced himself to slow down. “Tell me. What is your name?”

“Lelia, Alpha,” the omega replied in a whisper, eyes darting up to meet his for just a second before she looked back at the floor. They were big and round like a newborn doe’s, and the prettiest shade of light, honeyed brown. König hated that he felt his heart flutter in his chest at the sight of them.

“You will call me Sir,” he told her firmly, grimacing under his mask at the use of his designation. He was not her Alpha. He would not have her claim him as such. Not when she couldn’t even stand to look at him with his mask on. No, he would rather her speak to him as if she was just another one of his soldiers. “Or Colonel.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied obediently as they arrived at his quarters. He opened the door and gestured to her to go in. She did so without protest. She had been well trained, it seemed. It made him sick to his stomach. He hated seeing omegas stripped of their personality, their autonomy, taught to be nothing but a slave to their Alpha’s whims. It reminded him far too much of his mother.

She reminded him of his mother. Small stature, red hair, meek attitude… even a similar name. Lelia. Lia. He gritted his teeth and looked away. Her fearful scent was already stinking up his room, and his stomach turned. He couldn't deal with this, with her right now.

She had already moved over towards her bag, a small suitcase that couldn't possibly contain more than a few items of clothing. He supposed she would have to get used to wearing whatever plain clothes the program provided her with, rather than the smart, sophisticated dress she was currently wearing—one that looked like it cost half of what König made in a month. She was clearly used to luxury—he wondered why she would leave all that behind to volunteer to be a stranger’s fucktoy? Because that’s what this damn program sounded like to him, no matter what the beta officer had said. Giving a bunch of rough military Alphas fragile little omegas like her… it was madness. König wanted nothing to do with it.

“I will be back by dinner time,” he told her, not even having stepped inside. “You may put your things in the closet. The toilet is through the other door.”

With that, he was gone, the metal door slamming shut behind him.

***

Lelia's new, masked Alpha was terrifying. But he already seemed kinder than Andrew.

Her husband—ex-husband now, she supposed—would have shoved her onto the bed and taken her the second they were alone. It was what he had done on their wedding night. And then again, every night since, until over a year went by and he had nothing to show for it. No baby, no strong little Alpha son to take over his father's company when he was old and grey.

What he did have was several million pounds of debt.

A debt that was cleared by selling her and her useless, barren womb to the owner of a German strip club. Which was then raided by a private military company less than a month later for human trafficking.

Lelia, one of the victims they had recovered, was given two options: be returned to Andrew, or remain in KORTAC’s custody by joining the pilot wave of their new ‘Comfort Omega’ program.

It wasn't much of a choice, really. Anything was better than Andrew.

Her new Al—the Colonel's scent permeated the room. Gunpowder and cloves—the warm, spicy kind. Something else that was woody and slightly sweet. Oud, she thought.

There was a hint of smoke to his smell too, but with a grassy undertone that neither her father’s cigars or Andrew’s cigarettes held. One she didn’t recognize.

All in all, it was far more pleasant than Andrew or Rodolfo—the man she’d been sold to—ever smelt, and her omega wanted to properly scent him. Lelia wanted no such thing, and doubted the Colonel would even let her.

Even still, Lelia was wary. She hung her clothes up in the closet, taking up as little space as possible, but left her toiletries in her bag, which she tucked into the corner next to a pair of huge, muddy boots. She hesitated, but then pulled the leather monstrosities out, digging around for a buffing kit. Once she found it, she carried everything into the toilet, and spent the next half hour meticulously cleaning the Colonel’s boots. She knew he didn't want her—even found the fact strangely comforting, though her baser instincts made her want to whine and whimper at being rejected, again—but she would still be a good omega. She didn't need him to want her. She would prefer that he didn’t. But if he liked her, he would treat her decently… she hoped.

Once his boots were clean, Lelia put them and the kit back into the closet. She changed out of her day clothes—a cream, knee-length tweed dress with half sleeves and an oversized white bow at the collar—and into a set of pink silk pajamas. The bottoms were far too short for her liking, but at least the camisole was oversized and not see through. Rodolfo, the owner of the club she’d been traded to, had preferred to keep his girls in lingerie at all times. Lelia, being his favorite, had been allowed slightly more modest options, as well as a single proper dress for when he took her on ‘dates.’ KORTAC had allowed her to keep some of her clothes when she’d been taken into custody, and she’d chosen the least revealing pieces. She still wished she could have stayed in her dress, but the mud from the Colonel’s boots had stained it. She hoped he would let her get it laundered rather than just throwing it away…

She did her best to wash the stain out, but with only harsh soap and water, a dirty brown spot still lingered. Lelia sighed, blinking back tears, and simply hung it up in the closet. Then, needing comfort, she finally allowed herself to begin building her nest.

All of the materials she’d been given were painfully sterile smelling, and so, unable to resist her instincts, she swapped one of the Colonel’s pillowcases for her own��taking the time to make his bed after, so he would be less likely to notice. She felt better the moment the new pillowcase was added to her nest. Perhaps she would grow to despise his scent, but for now, it soothed her terrified omega.

She curled up in the pile of pillows and blankets she’d made under the Colonel’s desk. She knew that even if he didn't intend to take her tonight—which she still wasn’t sure about—she wouldn’t be sleeping, anyway. She couldn’t sleep if she wasn't alone. She hadn’t been able to since about a month into her marriage, when sleeping meant waking up in the middle of the night to Andrew on top of her, forcing himself inside her as he covered her mouth and nose with his hand. He'd learned his lesson after the first time, when her screams of pain and fear had woken the household staff.

Lelia shuddered at the memory, forcing herself to shut her eyes, pulling a blanket up under her chin and hugging a pillow close to her chest like it was her precious teddy bear. She often wondered what had happened to the stuffed animal, after she’d been married off. She hoped Ulyana, her childhood governess, had taken it. Perhaps the old woman had gone back to Russia to be with her own family, now that she didn't need to raise Lelia anymore. Perhaps Lelia’s teddy slept soundly in the arms of Ulyana’s granddaughter every night… Lelia liked to imagine that was the case. That her faithful stuffed friend, her only friend, was still loved and treasured, rather than falling apart somewhere in a landfill, all alone…

Lelia sniffled, scrubbing her eyes harshly. It was best not to linger on memories. She wasn't that innocent little girl anymore, that hopeless romantic who believed in true love and adored stories and films about it. That thought someday, she would marry the love of her life, and he’d give her two beautiful children, one boy and one girl, for Lelia to dote on and shower in all the love she’d never received from her own parents. That dreamed of going to Uni and becoming a famous poet, so she was praised for something other than her looks and obedience…

No. Lelia was not that girl anymore. She no longer lived with her head in the clouds. She was grounded firmly to earth, and all its horrible realities.

It wasn’t long before sleep found her. She’d grown used to taking the opportunity to rest whenever the chance presented itself, in preparation for her sleepless nights. She only hoped she was too exhausted to have a nightmare.

***

When König left his quarters, he immediately went in search of a beta he knew would be happy to be dragged away from their duties for a quick fuck.

He found one in a pretty blonde nurse named Isa, who he had taken plenty of times before in the storage room of the base’s hospital, where she worked. She was a nice girl, always greeting him with a smile on her face and a hunger in her clear blue eyes. She wasn’t the only one he hooked up with, but he wasn’t the only one she hooked up with, either. Just the best, according to her.

She was also quite talented, though he refused to rank the women he fucked. It was unbecoming of a superior officer. Besides, he was lucky enough that they let him drill his oversized cock into them, despite the fact that he always wore his mask when he did. He never knotted any of them either, no matter that some of them begged for it. That was far too intimate.

After twenty minutes, Isa stumbled out of the storage room with a slight limp, her hair mussed and a pink flush to her cheeks. He followed, straightening her shirt discreetly, not wanting to shame her. He always made sure that any woman he was with was satisfied—multiple times. He enjoyed it. Enjoyed hearing them moan and whimper from the pleasure, breathily telling him how good he made them feel…

And secretly, he always hoped that if he did well enough, they’d tell him that he was a good boy and that they were proud of him.

Of course, they never did. They probably assumed a big, strong Alpha like him would be offended. And he could never just ask for it, for the same reason. His partners tended to gossip about their trysts, and if anyone ever heard about how König would come in his trousers just from being called a good boy, his men would lose every ounce of respect they had for him.

So he kept his desires to himself, as always.

After Isa headed back to her station, König sighed and left for the mess hall, still keen to avoid his quarters—especially after his plan to fuck away any thoughts of his new problem only seemed to make it worse. He’d caught himself thinking of Lelia a few times while sunk halfway into Isa’s pussy. How different would it be to fuck an omega? Would she be able to take his entire cock, unlike the beta girls he was so often with? Would she beg for him to knot her? To fill her with his seed and make her belly grow round with his pups?

That was the thought that had brought him to orgasm, and he’d barely had time to pull out of Isa’s warm, wet pussy before his knot expanded, locking them together when he thrust too deep.

Thus the poor girl’s limp.

König killed as much time as he could get away with in the mess hall before finally admitting defeat and returning to his quarters. When he opened the door, the first thing he noticed was that the sour fear-stink had faded somewhat, allowing him to smell what must have been Lelia’s actual scent—something floral and sweet that reminded him of the garden he’d grown up tending at his grandparents’ cottage, as well as his favorite dessert—vanilla pudding. He instinctively closed his eyes and breathed in deeper, trying to place the flowery smells. Rose was immediately obvious, though there was almost a sugary hint to it. A rose flavored candy, maybe?

He recognized peonies after another moment, and he stiffened. Peonies had been her favorite flower—his mother’s. He left them at her grave on her birthday every year. The only time he ever visited.

The second thing he noticed, when he opened his eyes again, was that Lelia was gone.

“Omega!” He snapped, panicked. Where was she? Had she gone out into the base? That wasn’t safe, there were far too many ill mannered, unattached Alphas that could snatch her up and claim her, and there would be nothing she could do to fight back—

The fear-stink returned full force, and he heard a terrified gasp followed by a crash and then a pained whine. He looked down at his desk, where the sounds had come from, and saw a pillow sticking out. Crouching down, he was met by a pair of wide, scared brown eyes brimming with tears.

“S-sorry, sorry A-Alpha! I— I m-mean Sir, sorry Sir, I’m sorry—” the omega whimpered as she clutched the top of her head, sniffling as she tried to keep from crying. König’s instincts didn't even give him a chance to resist—he reached under the desk and grabbed her slight frame in his massive paws, carefully pulling her out. She went stiff as a board when he did, shifting her arms to cover her face as her shoulders hunched, like she was trying to curl up into a ball. König growled. He was used to being treated like a terrible, violent brute—and he was. He had a deep rage inside him, from years of merciless bullying and a mother who chose drugs over her son. That was why he had joined the military, to give that rage a safe target. He would never hurt an innocent woman. An innocent omega.

“I will not hit you,” he said angrily. Lelia flinched in his lap, not lowering her arms. He tried to gentle his tone. He was marginally successful. “You have already hurt yourself.”

He smoothed his big hand over the top of her head lightly, feeling for a bump. But she began to squirm wildly in his arms, trying to escape, her scent sharp with panic. He let her go, and she practically dove back under the desk and into the nest she’d made there.

“Fräulein,” he huffed, confused and exasperated. But then he caught sight of the fogginess in her eyes, and he paused. That was the look of a soldier who had been on the frontlines for too long. Who had seen too many horrors to ever truly recover. König saw that look in the mirror often. His expression softened beneath his mask in sympathy, and he sighed. “I will leave you be.”

He stood up, joints creaking in protest, and turned around. He was greeted by the sight of a neatly made bed, which he knew he was certainly not responsible for. He glanced at the desk again. It had to have been Lelia. No one else but her had access to his quarters.

“Thank you,” he said awkwardly, unsure if he would only make her more afraid by speaking, but unwilling to seem like a mannerless oaf. “For the bed.”

There was no response for a long moment, and König headed over to the closet to take off his boots. As he opened it, a tiny, nervous voice spoke up from under the desk, though when he looked back, she was still hiding under it.

“I cleaned the boots in the closet,” Lelia said. Then, “I can— I can clean the ones you’re wearing now too, Sir.”

König blinked, looking down at his spare pair of boots. They were spotless, practically looking brand new. His heart thudded hard in his chest. It was such a kind, motherly thing to do—making his bed and cleaning his boots. Small things to make his life easier, to show she cared…

She doesn’t care about you, a harsh voice in his head said. König flinched. She probably thinks she has to do these things for you.

“That is not necessary,” he replied, unlacing his boots and putting them next to his newly cleaned spares. He looked back up to grab his sleepwear when he noticed the feminine clothes taking up a sliver of space in his closet. Curious, he flicked through them. His cock twitched at the frills and sheer fabric, and he blushed beneath his mask as he spluttered. “What is this?”

He heard Lelia’s heart skip a beat, and he turned around to see her young, anxious face peeking out from under the desk.

“My clothes,” she answered after a second of hesitation. “They’re all I have… except for my white dress. But it— it got mud on it.”

From cleaning his boots, no doubt. He felt a bit guilty about that, but he was still too stuck on the fact that she was claiming the pretty lingerie hanging in his closet was clothing to think much about that.

“This clothing is not fit for a whore!” He exclaimed, flustered. Perhaps he was exaggerating—for lingerie, it was quite tame, actually. It was soft and pretty, exactly the type of thing he liked on a woman. And that was why he was so upset—because now he was imagining coming back to his room everyday only to see this beautiful, unclaimed omega looking so perfectly fuckable, when he had already promised himself he would do no such thing.

His cock was half hard from the fantasies alone, and it took him a long moment to shake them from his head. That was when he recognized the salty scent of tears. His eyes widened and he looked back at the desk to see Lelia had disappeared beneath it once more. He couldn't hear a single stuttered breath or gasping sob, but that she was crying, he had no doubt.

Immediately, he was swarmed with guilt, and he quickly approached her nest, crouching down once again. She was just a small lump under a blanket at this point, one that was trembling from the force of her silent cries.

“Oh, Lelia…” he whispered helplessly, fighting the urge to reach in and pull her out again, to place her in his lap where she would be safe. Where he could keep her safe. Damn his Alpha instincts. “I am sorry. I did not mean to insinuate that you— that you are—”

His oversized hands gestured uselessly. She wasn’t even looking at him. But he couldn't bring himself to repeat what he had said, knowing how it had hurt her.

“I was just… surprised. Your clothes are— very pretty, but I do not think they are clothes, Schatz. They are for sleep, and— other things.”

König was bright red beneath his hood. He hated that he had made her cry. And not even because she was needlessly afraid of him—but because of his stupid big mouth. This was why he tried not to speak very often. He always ended up saying the wrong thing.

“I know,” Lelia whispered, voice small and endlessly sad. “But they’re all I have.”

“I will get you new clothes,” he found himself saying. What was he doing? He didn't even want an omega. Not when he knew they wouldn’t want him back, not really. Especially not one as sweet and pretty as Lelia. Especially not after he’d just accidentally called her a whore… yes, exactly. That was why he was doing this. Not because he wanted her, but because he felt bad. She had done him a kindness despite his standoffishness, and he had been rude in return. He needed to make amends. “Tomorrow. I will request them from the program. Or— you can shop online, if you would prefer, ja? I think the clothes the program will provide will not be very… fashionable.”

Lelia seemed like the type to care about that, if the pretty dress she’d worn today was any indication. Though that begged the question—if the dress was now in his closet, did that mean she was wearing lingerie now? Surely not, he would have noticed earlier when he held her… though he had been quite focused on checking her head for injuries…

“Are you going to fuck me?”

König choked on his spit, staring wide-eyed at the lump under the blanket, wondering where the hell that had come from. Until he realized he was hard as steel and practically soaking the room in aroused pheromones, just from the idea that the sweet little omega in front of him was dressed in nothing but frills and bows…

König tried and failed to reign in his scent, and the resigned, despondent voice continued.

“If— if it’s not too much to ask, could you— could you shower, first, Sir? I promise I’ll be good, and I’ll make it worth the wait, I just— it hurts my omega… to be t-taken if I can— can still s-smell someone else on you…”

König’s arousal abruptly died, mortification and shame replacing it. He had known she would smell Isa on him when he came back—had walked around base with her scent on him just to show just how displeased he was with the ridiculous Program. To show that he didn’t need or want an omega. And he hadn’t cared about how it would affect Lelia. It was thoughtless. It was cruel.

“Nein,” he responded firmly, and the blanket lump deflated, growing impossibly smaller. He quickly continued. “I am not going to— to take you.”

The lump perked up, and after an agonizingly long moment, Lelia sat up, the blanket falling off her shoulders and pooling in her lap. König’s mouth went dry and he swallowed as he saw the oversized pink camisole she was wearing. It had sweet little ruffles along the straps, and obscured the shape of her body, puffing out in front—but that only made her look pregnant, stirring his earlier fantasies about breeding her. He quickly looked away.

“Because you don’t want an omega?” She asked hesitantly. “Or— or because I’m a whore?”

König cursed himself in German, tugging anxiously at his mask.

“I did not mean to say that,” he answered, looking back at her, neck bent at an awkward angle so he could see her. She still had tear tracks on her face. He swallowed thickly. “That was unkind. I did not mean it. I do not think you are a whore.”

Even though he found it beyond strange that any omega would volunteer for a program like this, he wasn’t lying. When he looked at Lelia, truly looked at her without letting his fears and resentment get in the way, all he saw was a sad, scared girl too sweet for her own good. She was so easy to take advantage of, just like his mother had been. König wanted to protect her, and not just because of his instincts. But because in a way, it felt like he would be protecting his mother.

But Lia Adler had been selfish, choosing drugs over her son at every turn. Lelia, on the other hand, seemed like she would be a wonderful mother. He could make her one, if she wanted.

He immediately shut those thoughts down. Lelia was not his mother. She was not his anything. Conflating the two of them was so very wrong. Craving maternal affection from her even as he thought about knotting her… It was disgusting. König was disgusting. He looked away again.

“I will not take you,” he repeated. “I can smell your fear. You do not want me to claim you. I will not have an omega that does not want me.”

I will never have an omega at all, he thought, pained. No one ever wants me.

“You aren’t going to force me?” She asked warily. König had already known she thought he would, but hearing it still hurt. He would never force himself on a woman. Ever. And he would certainly never claim an omega against their will. “Or just fuck me without claiming me?”

“No,” he said sharply. “You do not want me to touch you. So I will not touch you. In any way.”

The sour smell of her fear was gone, though the saltiness of her tears still lingered in the air, tainting the otherwise delicious scent of flowers and vanilla. If she were his omega, he would make sure she always had a fresh bouquet. But she wasn't. And he didn’t want her to be.

“I don't understand,” she finally whispered, tone fragile. König frowned underneath his mask. Was it really so hard to believe that he might not be a complete monster?

But you are a monster.

“What is so hard to understand?” He asked, his accent growing thicker to hide his hurt. “I believe I have been very clear!”

Lelia cowered as he raised his voice, and König exhaled sharply through his nose as he tried to calm himself. She did not want him. Not even his cock like the betas he slept with. She was afraid of him. If he was going to survive this forced cohabitation, he had to stop scaring her.

“I am sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. Then, a little steadier, “We will sleep now. It is late, and I am tired.”

König stood up once again, returning to the closet to grab his sleep clothes. He hesitated before going into the small, cramped toilet to change. She would probably think he was going to rape her if he started undressing in front of her. He suddenly groaned as he realized he was going to have to sleep with his mask on. He couldn't risk her seeing his face… his quarters had truly been stripped of their safe haven status. There was nowhere left on base where he could relax.

When he was done, he found Lelia curled up in her nest once again. He disliked the thought of her sleeping on the floor. It wasn't right. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to offer the bed to her while he took the floor. His Alpha, on the other hand, wanted to insist she sleep in bed with him, where he could protect her.

König did neither.

He laid in his bed and slid under the blankets, turning to face away from the little omega tucked under his desk, hoping she would feel a little calmer if he wasn’t looking at her. He could feel her eyes on him, assessing, but after a few moments, it seemed to work, at least a little bit. Her heart rate slowed down, not near enough for her to be asleep, but at least no longer drilling a hole into his eardrums with her anxiety.

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kibor · 4 months ago

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(I accept debates without any problems, I ask for education and respect <3).

Need to talk this here because no way i am the only person who think like this, but:

I HATE fans of the 2001 anime when they decide to talk about Seras. For me it's a kind of redflag when I see these guys want to say that the first Seras is better than the Ultimate one because she's more "serious, nihilistic (? wtf are u talking), intelligent" and reduce the 2006 one as a "whiny girl with big breasts who is disposable". I feel disgust, hate and want to murder anyone who says that, I've already written about Redpills co-opting Alucard as a "symbol of macho-man" (even though his character goes against EVERYTHING of that), these people are usally 5 options:

-Only consumed the 2001 and nothing else

-Only saw edits/scenes on the internet, thought it was cool to put Alucard's icon and made a larp about being a Hellsing fan

-Watched the 2 animes and read the manga, but only to do mediocre power scaling because when you actually ask about the story THEY DON'T KNOW HOW TO ANSWER ANYTHING, NOT EVEN THE BASICS OF THE BASICS OF HELLSING THAT YOU HAVE TO KNOW...

-Only watched the Abridged because it's based on the argument of "it's funnier and better than the original!!!" (lmao yes, a parody that has a humor that is the juice of 2010 and that only a few scenes save it - and even with those that are saved, they became EXTREMELY saturated by fans to the point that it's annoying when you go into a cosplayer's comment or Hellsing fanart and only have Abridged jokes)

-Or just an avowed Nazi (but that doesn't mean he's separate from the other options above, because I've seen a lot of these guys in what I mentioned in the 4 topics who have far-right attitudes in their veins)

and realize that it's usually straight men lmao.

But back to Seras, I cried watching Ultimate again after years and she is one of my favorite characters. I love both versions of her character (Gonzo's or Madhouse's), but the 2006 one has my heart because I identified with her a lot at certain moments. Seras was someone who only suffered in her life but continued to be strong and the sweetheart that she is. People think that someone who is not "serious, without emotions and feelings" is not someone strong and worthy of respect. Guys, the 2006 Seras adapts the Seras from the manga. In Ultimate and in the manga she constantly questions about the afterlife (becoming a vampire, since she is dead) and at first she couldn't dissociate herself from the "human" because it was something so sudden, she got a fucking shot in the chest at a time when she was almost going to be r**ed and killed, she was taken to Hellsing (without knowing anyone) and still has to deal with more deaths in front of her (whether caused by her or not). Do you really think she's mentally stable?

IMO, I think those scenes with Alucard where he tells Seras to forget that she was human are very important, because if you look at it from a post-humanist perspective, it makes a lot of sense, because it brings up the debate about "humanity" not being something good outside of common sense but rather as a colonialist and violent concept, which arises with the rhetoric of civilizing discourse against native peoples (as a Spanish-Brazilian, it's extremely sad to see the effects of colonialism, especially against indigenous peoples) . We notice this even more in the current context when we see how society deals with trans people, disabled people, racialized people, women and any social minority that does not follow the correct standard of "being human", all in defense of a human security system (which is just racism, patriarchy and all the ways to maintain the structures of violence that kill us every day). Alucard is disappointed when Seras doesn't drink the blood precisely because he wants her to be strong and finally independent, that she came out of that suffering as a human and can now have a new life (I don't like this reading of saying that Alucard was "enslaving her").

and that's why I like Seras from 2006, especially in the scene where she feeds on Pip to defeat Zorin, you see a new Seras indeed. You see our cute and charismatic blonde vamp finally accepting being more than human, accepting the change and wanting to protect those she loves in that chaos in London. Seras from the OVA has development, that's why I hate the guys who only like Seras from 2001 saying that she had "no development at all and only exists for the sake of existing".

(a bit of "A Cyborg Manifesto" by Donna Haraway vibes but in the Hellsing context)

It's one thing if you like the anime version of Gonzo better and that's fine, I understand and respect it (i love this version of her too), but saying that Seras from the OVA is a horrible, useless and undeveloped character really upsets me.

#hellsing ultimate #hellsing #seras victoria #seras hellsing #post-humanism #post-left #manga #idk #rant #vampires #i love u Seras #fans of hellsing abridged should have much more sense #I died writing all this

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isalisewrites · 19 days ago

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A lurker here who wanted to add their two cents to the HP fandom discourse after reading yours. My understanding of fanfiction is that on a fundamental level, it is meant to be defiance and pushback against capitalism. Fanfiction is modern-day folktale, tales made by the people. When capitalism has made a profit from selling stories, making and sharing your own versions of the official ones for free, consuming their products in a way not intended by making it your own, is defiance against it. Against capitalism. It is NOT free promotional material for the franchise unless the fanfic writer makes it so. If the message in the fanfic rings fuck JKR and support transpeople in it, then it's a transformative work and a transformative experience. It's letting the audience, the people, take control of the narrative in the same vein as parody, satire, public educational materials, and remixing can get. It's why it's legally protected as such.

Second, I feel that ever since those fans who do realize that JKR has abhorrent views, now or back then years ago, and are have a hard time letting go of the fandom, it's more about letting them grieve. This is not exactly in the same capacity, but when a person passes away, those who once cherish them grieve the person they've lost. Hell, some people need to grieve the person they once knew that is still alive but have become unrecognizable now. And people process the loss in a different way, at their own pace. For some they can get over it quickly, for others, there are still stages to get through that could take awhile. And right now, in all honestly, as long as JKR and her harmful ideas are in control, the people in HP fandom might need to grieve on the lost in potential, at the good memories the community once fostered, and get some sort of closure over the community that it has now become. How quickly people will leave it depends on the individual. Some might not leave it at all and continue be active in it for many years to come. But that's not up for other people to decide, but there has to be a space to process this. And fanfiction should be allowed to be one of those spaces. For those who do care about trans rights and are conflicted about their love for the HP fandom against JKR's terf beliefs, the most charitable thing to do is give the time for fans like them to process their grief. For some, it takes years in the making, and for others it's just starting now. But for those on tumblr telling transpeople and trans allies to stop writing HP fanfictions and claiming they're supporting JKR in doing so, they couldn't be more wrong about it. People write to transform. People write to fix. People write to process their thoughts and emotions. People write to alter and create something new about their experiences. Fanfiction itself is not endorsement unless it was specifically written as such. More than that, fanfiction is a personal journey of grief, hope, love, rhetoric, and dialogue that we share with others freely.

Thank you for this. Thank you for putting it into more words.

And now, not only does I have to mourn the effects of JKR's bigotry, I now must mourn the second wave of digital book burning that has already begun. I already personally know someone who has deleted their fics and their AO3 account in reaction to this.

Not only has more hatred on all sides been inflamed, but now a great loss is commencing in our community.

All fanfiction is sacred and should be preserved.

And I will personally fight anyone who says this is not a great loss.

Anon, whoever you are, you are an eloquent, highly intelligent person and I'm grateful for your message. Thank you <3

Isa

#harry potter #hp #fanfiction #fanfic #hp fanfic #anti jkr #fuck jkr #anti jk rowling

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starblue2406 · 2 months ago

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The path behind the process: Arceus

With Arceus I guess I'll go a bit faster, because compared to Acomfire, even though he's been in my head longer, he hasn't really had many changes over not only the four years since I wrote this story, but also the time I've been managing the character, since I was in high school xD

Argique is more of a plus for the publication since as we know, it is the same character.

Initial concept :

Original Arceus: When I took the character to make comics in my free time or during classes, I was just getting into the Pokémon hobby.It was thanks to the movie "Detective Pikachu" that I became interested in the franchise, but above all in the lore.

But at that time I was a person who liked to make stories that were both funny and epic, I was very influenced by Marvel as well as the parody videos of the time.So when the song of Pascu and Rodri singing the story of the god Zeus came out, it inspired me to make a somewhat hilarious Arceus.

In this case, it gave me the idea to imagine a carefree Arceus and maybe a shameless one. He didn't really care about his creation and was a walking joke of a single dad with kids who only cause him trouble... At least that's what I remember.

For some reason I also shipped it with the Princess Celestia xD

Yep, at first, in my crazy imagination, the one who was kissing Arceus was Celestia. I hadn't seen Arceus and the Jewel of Life back then and if I had,I would have surely imagined more ways of Arceus hitting his children with a sandal xD

I think he was also a self-centered bastard for having created the world, a bit like Adam from Hazbin Hotel and very hard on his children, he had strong conflicts with Giratina and was basically like that mother who always has her sandal in her hand...

It was until the stories in those comics started asking for more epicness and seriousness, so I drastically changed the character's personality, in this case to the typical image of a serious office boss and a strict single dad.

It was not until the arrival of a certain character that the real change took place.

White Diamond from Steven Universe.

I've never really been a fan of this series, but I was struck by its lore and especially how it handled its characters, for better or worse.

The concept of seeing White Diamond as a great matriarch of a system that seeks perfection and expanding it throughout the universe was incredible.... Too bad they wasted him as a tremendous villain.

Anyway, the concept that x character is looking for something as ambiguous as perfection in a system that should work like the gears of a clock stuck in my head and never left.

I hope it's not considered copying or something like that.

So I decided that my Arceus would be a god who sought absolute perfection in his creation, a sort of moral and utilitarian perfection where everyone focused on properly fulfilling their function in existence and coexisting peacefully with others. It doesn't sound so bad until they tell you that you will be judged and disowned by this one if you don't do it.... God, to me that's one of the best things I could come up with.

Every so often I review video analyses on the philosophy of White Diamond or her character as such.I still haven't let go.

Original comic version:

This version was the origin of the infamous comic that started it all...

When I saw that iconic image that made me know this ship {please go to the second anniversary posts to know that story), it made me think "Ha, my Arceus would have had a heart attack to see this, how funny".

And that's how with the idea of doing a "What if...?" type story. Like the Marvel one and by the way, parodying the genre bl I made the original comic and of course, the Arceus we know. Although I guess in this version I had lowered his temperament over perfection, since comparing it to other media I did, you could definitely tell I did it that way for the sake of the script and making a functional parody. I don't know, in a way in the comic version it was still related to its first version, that is, being an exaggerated joke of a concept.

Written version

Let's say the same as above But severely adjusted in a way that can be taken seriously. At least enough so that the tension of this soap opera.

The concept was balanced to make it work and the archetype of this god who realizes he really doesn't have the moral high ground as he thought he did could be something that actually mattered to the story.

However, actually this concept has had to be tweaked again for the remakes of this story, the concept is still the same, but now I feel it is balanced and his change in thinking is believable, while at the same time you really believe his initial role and the concept he represents.

Personality:

I suppose that what I will say will be very redundant because of what has been mentioned in the sections above, but I will still comment quickly.

Original Arceus:

An absurd attempt to be a father and a chief god, just a good-for-nothing who lives bragging and makes everyone praise him. Quite a lot of narcissistic vibes.

After that he became a single father struggling to raise his creation and his children. Quite paternal at times, but mostly busy being God.Compared to the current one, he has little patience and is always somewhat reluctant.

With the new change of direction of both hair and concept, here Arceus takes the role of a moral and strict god... To soon after reduce the parody of the previous one, yes, let's say that the poor guy changed a lot of mood.

I could say that in some ways and to some degree it's based on my dad LOL.

When I wrote Arceus in a more serious tone, it was during my high school days (between first and second grade) and even though I didn't hate my dad, I did consider him a bit strict.

Hahahaha, I remember that I was afraid of my dad, but not because he would hurt me, but because of his imposing figure and his scoldings, because he is a guy who looks for order and because of my age, it was something I was against.

Besides it was with him that I had the teenage rebelliousness fights; they weren't frequent or maybe they were frequent enough for me to capture it a bit in Arceus' parental personality XD

That actually has changed, both my relationship with my dad and also with my way of writing Arceus' character, nowadays I feel it's quite far away from that and I'm very happy about it, I don't want to capture my daddy issues XD

Original comic version:

After adding White Diamond to the mix, the concept of God seeking perfection I explored for a while in other content. His personality was pretty rigid, warm only when things were working out and his expectations were being met; clearly Mew got the most love {he was basically Arceus' Alexa), but even that he was flexible enough to be able to relax with his kids and they actually had a nice affection for him.

But when the comic came along, it had to be toned down to be "What if...?" Yaoi parody would be reality.

At the end of this anniversary I'll post the full original comic as far as I got, but if I may add that if you notice, Arceus' personality is quite contradictory, something I did on purpose precisely to make an absurd drama. It's even funny and ironic that he lives up to his main inspiration.

White Diamond in his last appearances was a mockery of the imposing cosmic figure they were selling us and only appeared in 2 episodes.

What a coincidence, Arceus goes from being the most serious and intimidating thing to the most ridiculous thing when it comes to his little heart. The good thing is that being a parody story I didn't hit my head too much with it... Until what...

Written version

Let's see, from chapter 4 I had a tentative feeling that this story could give more and I explored a bit of that in chapters 6 and 7 of the comic, with its touch of soap opera and cringe but at the end of the day there was something more.

So I put chapter 8 of the comic on hold unduly and decided to adapt the story into a written novel.

Here Arceus was changing in a very strange way, even I don't understand what I did. To be faithful to the original product, he was almost like what was narrated before, that is, a lukewarm pretentious with his ideals, but since this was supposed to be more serious, I half tried.

I would say that while it did convey that firmness of ideals, it lacked putting the moral softness in the right place. I feel like you don't buy his change to Argique because a lot of times he still conveys his moral firmness, but at the same time too soft for the plot to move forward and it doesn't do it in an organic way.

I mean, one day he's the strict guy with his rules, the next he's a mess But he's still about perfection and the next he's already a guy with a completely different identity and willing to learn... There is no harmony in this.

Written version 2 (remakes)

Once again, a minimal change in hairstyle tells you that he has changed his personality again.

Nowadays in remakes I try to make his change as organic and believable as possible, being that despite making a bad face at Mew's chosen one, he's actually willing to wholeheartedly thank a human who saved him m even if he nomes the best of his lineage, Arceus knows that doesn't change what drove him to do such an act.

It is that small space with which he is slowly progressing in how he understands his own world and feeling for the first time why it is so hard to follow his own rules. So yes, I would say Arceus is now just a strict guy But with a little hole in his heart that will slowly grow so you can access him.

As with Acomfire, I have also used the MBTI and the Hogwarts houses as a reference base to write about their personality.

In the case of Arceus, I use the ESTJ personality and for me, Arceus has the qualities to be a Slytherin.

The characteristics of an ESTJ:

*They are born leaders, even assuming the role spontaneously.

*They are sociable and enjoy group activities.

*They are practical and prefer structure, if something has no structure then they create it.

*They look for tangible and useful ideas to solve problems or achieve goals.

*They are responsible and committed, and expect that from others.

They are defenders of the status quo in family and cultural traditions, they believe in rules and procedures.

*They are sincere and express their opinions.

They are meticulous and focus on objectivity and rationality

*They are organizers and excellent at managing people and things.

*Determined and focused

*They hate wasting time and look for ways to optimize all resources to get the most out of them.

*Confidence and security

*They obviously have a hard time with change

*Difficulty in expressing emotions

Now I will talk about the characteristics of Slytherin:

*They are cunning

*They are calculators

*They are determined

*Great desire to achieve goals

*Search for doing what is necessary

*Born leaders.

*Smart

*Ambitious

Backory:

Not much really.

I prefer to comment on it in the story with help from Mew, some notes from Paul, mentions from Damos and of course, Arceus himself.

I'll just say that Mew's creation is for better or worse his masterpiece.

Arceus in his most primitive understanding thought that there must be order,everything had to work like the gears of a clock,For this there should be no contempt between individuals,only absolute virtue shines forth.If everything had its place, then he was the creator, Mew the creation and therefore, Their duty was to serve Him and to see to everything that came out of the rest of the heavenly creation.Mew is perfect and as long as he recognizes the one above him, he will obey his orders.

Evolution in history:

Written version 2 (remakes)

Since I expect this version to have a clear and definitive conclusion, I would describe his character arc as going down some golden stairs only to find out what you were missing at the bottom, for better or worse.

Gosh, I think I talked too much with that but it's the shortest way I can describe his development without giving so much detail at the same time make my point.

General reflections:

It's because of all this that Arceus is definitely my spoiled child. He's been my favorite since I was doing the comic, it's because of him that I realized there's a lot to explore in that little heart of 🦙 perfectionist.

He's been with me since high school, a funny fact is that at that time I used to watch Miraculous Ladybug, I liked it quite a lot (that's why his design has been like I'd er a full body lycra glued and skin tight XD) and just for that, his design hasn't cam5en six years I've known the character, just for the damn nostalgia alone.

Physically he's only changed in the way I've arranged the hair on his forehead, but he's changed so much in mind that I've put so much of myself into him. No, he is not a self insert, that prize goes to Pili; but it makes me realize that much of what I think and reflect about life itself is in him.

#Spotify #fanfic #fanfiction #pokemon fanfiction #arceus #pokémon #my art <3 #arceus gijinka #pokemon legends arceus #fourth aniversary #estj #mbti estj #slytherin #pokemon gijinka #legends arceus #fanfic aniversary #fanfic inspiration

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pedrocomicreviews · 2 months ago

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Absolute Batman #6

"Go on! Keep talking! Tell me again how I don't matter! I love it! I @#$% love it!"

Crashout king Bruce Wayne crashes out one more time and finishes this first arc with a bang. Light spoilers under the cut.

Introductory Batman arcs are always challenging because you're walking a well-trodden road. Hundreds of stories have this same premise and have done their own version of "Batman punches his first villain enough times that they stop moving." How does Snyder, who has been here before, decide to do engage with it?

By making Batman into an absolute fucking freak, and I love it.

There's just something really fun and engaging about how much Absolute Batman loves destroying these criminals. It reminds me of good Punisher comics, or even some of Rob Kirkman's work-- it's hyper violent and veers on a parody, but it also feels earned when it works, and it's impossible to not find it at least somewhat entertaining.

And the finale is bombastic in every way. Bruce's friends now know he's Batman, which will change their dynamic forever. This actually reminds me a lot of old Moon Knight, back when he had his Shadow Cabinet-- a bunch of specialists on different fields all with different relationships to the law helping Batman in ways only they can. Yes, all of them will inevitably become villains, but it's really fun to see their usual talents applied like this. Penguin especially is a hell of a resource to have, rich or not.

Black Mask was a phenomenal first villain and this is by far my favorite interpretation of him. The look, the way he uses violence, the bit he's going for; it all hits a lot harder for me than him just being a very good Gotham City Crook like in the regular universe and most adaptations. Giving him this world-criminal-level threat was the right call and connecting him to a larger operation was something I wasn't actually expecting.

Speaking of the operation, I did think the final Party Animal challenge Gotham City faced was a bit rushed. It really only focused on Martha and Jim, which, yes, those are our emotional cores, but I wanted to see more of how the city was doing. Also, 100k for arson is crazy, that's not even that bad, give me the mask there are acceptable targets here!

With the gang finally up to speed, Alfred joining the operation for good, Batman having proven himself to be an absolute maniac and Snyder reminding us one again that he's still got it, Absolute Batman continues to be some of the most fun you can have with DC Comics.

Also that epilogue had me rolling, what the fuck is that, is that a jacket made of fetuses oh my shit.

#pedro's weekly comics reviews #dc comics #absolute batman #absolute universe

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davekat-sucks · 2 months ago

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You know, I'll admit i'm genuinely shocked Hussie never really made a huge fuss over the Troll-Sona stuff in comic, with Karkat going on about how its the equivalent of [Insert-Race] Face for humans. Having Caliope being on the receiving end of a Trolling the likes of which hadn't been seen since ACT 5 would have been the perfect chance to try and restore some of Karkats proper character. Obviously this was after the interlude so Karkat and Dave were... what they became I.E. Shells of their former selves but I digress. at minimum it would have been a nice fare-well to Karkats rants that actually had a reason to exist, since Karkat had always been a voice of reason and actual understanding for Troll Culture for the Audience and since Hussie is a troll, making good fun of Cosplay with the context of it being actually racist in-universe would have been genuinely funny.

speaking of Karkat Rants, does he have any in the dubiously canon but certainly shit beyond canon? and if so, any that are actually *good*? Whenever someone does a Karkat rant properly, be it in fanfic, for Parody/Impressions, ect. its always a highlight and usually steals the scene its in and for good reason. the only times it doesn't is usually when Jade got legitimately pissed off at him, or he got *too* into his role as leader without actually leading which was rare even if he did get up his own ass at times. But what can I say, its Hu-, Troll nature, right?

also since I saw those Adult/Silhouette versions of the trolls you shared before, I'll comment on that. Why the hell can't we have those instead of the... well, *exuses* that we got for the Beta trolls in beyond canon? Adult Trolls have always been shown in that style, in the same way adult humans were always in the same style, easily distinct from kids of either species. Those designs are so great too, really capturing the essence of the characters. Vriska's having her Glasses is always appreciated since its pretty common for people to forget she actually HAS those aviator glasses (Hussie too, now that I think about it. Where did they fucking go Hussie?! Why did they vanish in the same way you made the Trolls you either couldn't be bothered or couldn't write for vanish?! *sigh*. 'Bugger. honestly if you want a VISUAL representation of the Current writers lazyness, other than the fact they blatantly don't care about characters actually being themselves, or making characters like Terezi or Feferi chubby or downright near fat, its that. not having the Beta Trolls actually get their kick-ass adult sprites. Like sure, anyone who didn't God Tier shouldn't be aging, but MOST of the trolls didn't. in fact, we only have ONE who did. The one who had more than her fair share of time. and While I love her, can the writers please stop making Vriska stop losing character progress at this point? She's long since learned she doesn't need to be the center of literally everything. She's killed THE Big bad. doesn't get MORE IMPORTANT Than killing Lord English. Fuck if they were going bring a Serket back why not Aranea? Give her an opportunity to get some more attention? She died getting kind of shafted tbh, or well. Died x2 combo. Then again, I suppose What Pumpkin and the new-fans wouldn't really care for the Lore-Scholar to return. They (the nu-fans and writers) hate all the actually fun characters, destroy the ones who are left, and shove into the back room anyone they haven't destroyed yet. Something tells me if they got their hands on Aranea they'd just make her Vriska 2.0 again instead of leaning into her more Sylph-related tendencies. Befriendus did Aranea extremely well, so clearly its not impossible but I suppose thats only if you actually give a damn, huh?

Also despite having finished the first couple Acts for Friendsim 2 I stopped right before Polypa (bae) chapter came out and just haven't gotten around to it since. Saw some people complaining about designs and yea... some of the writers Biases are clear in more than just designs though overall up to that point I felt they'd done a good job (for the most part) keeping their... dare I say 'Politics' out of it? Not sure about that any more since I'm out of the loop on that but I hope that continued regardless of Character design stuff. Still that thing about Always drawing people with curley hair as black sucks. I have Extremely curly hair that thankfully basically never knots and I too am a Pasty Mountain Monkey. An American Mountain monkey but a Mountain Monkey none-the-less. Very White. Shit won't dare to grow further than my neck and will Fro out like no-ones business. I'd prefer they not take every character with Adorabubbly Poofy hair and make every one of them black. Goodness knows thats the fate of every ginger in media. We have Black Feferi but where's Ginger Feferi? I demand Balance be brought to Paradox Space! Give us the Aerial Feferi we deserve XD

Closest to Karkat being reactive over people cosplaying/dressing up as trolls would be in early Homestuck 2 that even DIRK agrees what Calliope was trying to share was wrong, but even then his anger is seen as a joke. That Karkat is being overreactive that people are using trolls' appearances and customs/beliefs as an outfit. He's in the wrong. It's fine to greyface like others use blackface as a joke. And that women can't do wrong so Calliope can never be blamed for anything, just like Vriska.

It is strange that Calliope's cosplay as her trollsona would not be addressed by any of the trolls despite the fact Calliope supposedly loves them. Then again, most of her interactions had only been with humans so far within the base webcomic. She never approaches even important ones like Karkat, Kanaya, Terezi, or even confronting her own caretaker like Gamzee by Post Retcon. They were attempting to draw the adult trolls like Karkat and Meeah having darker skin, but not fully black artstyle silhouette like the base comic had done with the other Dancestors and Condesce. Plus, people think they would be unrecognizable if they fully make them black despite said silhouettes of hair styles should be easy to help audiences. But maybe they think their audience is retarded. It seems like it if some of the are retarded enough to still think Dave and Karkat are important when they do dick all in Meat Timeline that they had the girls like Jade, Rose, Kanaya, and Calliope directly say it out loud. Blame not only Andrew Hussie and WhatPumpkin, but James Roach and HICU for thinking their readers/audiences are retarded and not smart enough to think on their own.

Yeah, the nu-fandom has ironically made assumptions of stereotypes despite their claims of diversity. Isn't it more diverse enough for something like curly blond hair on an Asian woman or straight red hair on a black person than just same old curls and afros on one race? At that point, people are losing creativity.

#homestuck #homestuck fandom #hs2 #homestuck 2 #homestuck^2 #homestuck2 #hs^2 #dave strider #karkat vantas #Dirk Strider #Calliope #HS calliope #Calliope Cherub #Hiveswap Friendsim 2 #Friendsim 2

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nitewrighter · 11 months ago

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(Book binding anon) Anon has been given blessings to ramble? *deep inhale* Cindy perfectly encapsulates everything, and I do mean everything, that I have missed from so many fairy-tales, love stories, and fanfictions in the past decade or so. Every character is so lovingly simple--like, everyone involved has their flaws and strengths and a strong voice in and of themselves, but the prose is to the point and simple for their mannerisms, movements, and actions. For all the big, grand things that everyone does (or has done, looking at you, Mrs. Queen), the narrative always treats them as a person making choices. (Just a Lil Guy, if you will.) Which! Is! The Point! Of Cinderella!!! She is amazing because she has always always always chosen to be kind despite the shit going on, and the narrative subtly reinforcing that at every turn not JUST through lawn-chair-sitting author and their impeccable and funny inserts DIRECTLY calling out Cinderella, but in how it frames every character? The Prince's reflections? The slow understanding of everyone around the two of them how powerful that can be if you take the moment to think about it? Amazing!!! (Know that if I could put more exclamation marks and even more synonyms for "amazing" here without cluttering things, I would.) I remember as a kid finding book series like Skulduggery Pleasant which made use of short descriptive phrases and formatting (almost screenplay-esque?), and it read so easily; I'm always delighted to find things that make similar use of the dashes and ellipses to really hit home that cozy conversationalist tone. I can hear every character! Every! One! And there's JUST enough similarity to the way lawn-chair-sitting author speaks for that doubly nice reminder that yeah, we are sitting in their backyard getting told a fun story. Can we also appreciate that set-up? How it parodies so many funny retellings or strangely modern ones, sure (Masterpiece Theatre anyone? Does anyone else remember the horse lady?), but the readers aren't being talked to as kids? Like...lawn-chair-sitting author is tired, man. But they're hopeful. All their asides and inserts and descriptions feel like they're scooting to the edge of their chair to look me in the eyes and ask drunkenly but earnestly, "life fuckin sucks sometimes. But sometimes it's also good. This is my reminder." and sprinkling in all those other classic reminders of all kinds of other morals that make fairy tales so comforting. And! And and AND! It's so! Loving!!! To Cindy!!! I love the bits where the narrative "gives her space," builds her up even though she can't hear, lets her feel, and gets angry f o r her!!! It's just...it's so rare to find pieces where the characters are really, truly loved. Every time I reread it I feel like the story as a whole is just setting a big blanket on Cindy's shoulders and vicariously hugging her through the family she builds. Cindy and the Prince? The build up? The awkward second meeting? The constant communication? The quiet understanding? The build up of e v er y o n e 's eventual friendships??? The whole thing is just...so genuine and loving. I want to gush more, but at this point, trying to put how much I adore it into words just has me sitting at my keyboard making little grabby hands. Much love for your writing style, from the voice you have to the descriptions you use. They're all really wonderful, and when I get this thing bound, I'll send pictures <3

Sorry it's taken me a while to respond to this. I've just been reading it over and over.

I've never read Skullduggery Pleasant! I remember hearing vaguely about it online as a kid in the late 2000's/early 2010's, but I always thought it was a webcomic or something!

It's a little embarrassing to recall it now, but I actually did drunkenly tell a version of Cinderella from a deck chair... I want to say back in 2014? It was actually Sapsorrow from Jim Henson's "The Storyteller," which is closer to Donkeyskin, which uses the whole "Dress the color of the sky/Dress the color of the Sun/Dress the Color of the Moon" mechanic. We were *all* drunk and also passing a bong around but even then I was like... totally thrown off by people actually paying attention to me??? It always stuck with me, but I honestly wasn't even thinking about that time when I made that initial Cindy post. It only really came back to me around chapter 6, and I was like "Oh--this is like that time!!"

But the voice and the sense of spontaneity was very important to me throughout the whole thing. It still like... hits me that the story still emotionally affects people two years later--and I'm not saying that because I'm over it or anything! It's just... easy to kind of feel like you're not doing enough creatively when everything is 'content content content--are you putting out enough content?' these days. It's just... really affecting to be hit with "you floated this out into the world and it means something to people." It really means so much to me.

Thank you so much, I really mean that.

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go-scottishgal14 · 9 months ago

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Great essay in The Telegraph, 7/28/2024, hits nail on head imho....

Not even France can escape the West’s cultural decay

Our civilisation is surely doomed when the best Paris can offer is a drag queen parody of the Last Supper

TIM STANLEY -- 28 July 2024 at 7:30 pm

At the Olympics they often sing Imagine, containing the line, “Imagine there’s no countries …” Well, if there were no countries, there’d be no Olympics, which would be marvellous. Who wants to watch two weeks of muscular women throwing sticks and balls at each other? The only entertaining bit is the opening ceremony. Britain did a good ’un back in 2012; so good that it entered folklore, along with the 1966 World Cup and Dunkirk. When our grandkids ask, “What did you do in the clash of civilisations?” we shall reply: “We pushed Elizabeth II out of a helicopter.”

Paris, by contrast, offered us drag queens doing a parody of the Last Supper – insulting Christians, mocking God. When I described the scene to a priest, he replied: “That explains the torrential rain, then.”

It was blasphemous, sure, but it was also tacky; the crime aesthetic as well as religious. You have a once-in-a-lifetime chance to sell your country to tourists, and what did France go with? A dozen men – one with a beard – twerking to Freed from Desire. Actual culture necessitates discipline and taste. In the 21st century, people just “party”, cos it requires zero effort and any idiot can do it.

Kicking Christians is very easy because we have no power and, when we’re angry, we don’t fly planes into things. And yet some people cannot leave us alone. They feel a need to ridicule our beliefs and subvert our images, to drag Christ down to the gutter – as if crucifying him once wasn’t enough.

It’s probably because faith is beautiful. People don’t know how to react to it. When you’ve been raised in ugliness, to be confronted with the profound, transcendent beauty of the Last Supper can inspire awe, yes, but also fear. Think of those apes going bananas at the mysterious monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey. Beauty pierces the illusion of a comfortably banal existence.

Imagine if instead of the drag queen parody, the ceremony had paused to display the real painting by Leonardo da Vinci. No music. No fireworks. Just Jesus&Co. Millions would’ve switched off the telly – because they’d find it boring, no doubt, but also strange, unnerving, possibly offensive. There would’ve been thousands of complaints. We have engineered an entire existence around pleasure and distraction. Stop the disco for one minute and people might fill the silence with thought, even prayer … or they might riot.

Either way, you’ve got a revolution on your hands, and the powers that be can’t have that.

L’Hexagone faces a fate worse than death: becoming Great Britain

Organisers have apologised for any offence caused, but wise-guys insist the whole thing was a very French joke the world didn’t get. But how French was the ceremony in total?

Celine Dion is Canadian. Lady Gaga is from the United States. “This is France!” tweeted Emmanuel Macron – in English, something one could never imagine De Gaulle or Mitterrand doing. In fact this version of France looks suspiciously American, and drag is another import.

Men have been dressing up as women for a laugh for centuries, and long may it continue. But the art form’s current vibe was promoted by Ru Paul – obviously influenced by Voguing – and the notion that drag queens are apostles for progress is 100 per cent “made in the USA”.

I’m old enough to remember when a drag act meant a bloke, often married, dressed as Barbara Cartland telling filthy jokes about foreigners in the Dog and Duck. The Yanks have mainstreamed this subculture, transforming it into a mass consumer product, which was another reason to yawn rather than boo at the drag disciples. This stuff ceased being brave or transgressive 20 years ago. Like the rainbow flag (designed by an American) or Pride (begun in America), it is banal because it is ubiquitous.

So, Brits shouldn’t gloat over the tawdry French games. If we held them today, we’d make identical mistakes. Our ceremony would also be a celebration of diversity – every Western nation has become diverse to the point of looking exactly the same – for diversity is something one promotes when you’ve lost confidence in your historical identity. When you’ve decided everything you did pre-1960 was racist, and you’ve stopped writing great novels, composing symphonies or painting beyond primary school standard.

The West is culturally dying. It only looks alive because we’re dancing among the relics of what we used to do well – and are so embarrassed by these past accomplishments that we feel moved to ridicule their ideals.

The Paris ceremony, of course, featured a headless Marie Antoinette. Let’s laugh at a victim of an earlier experiment in egalitarianism. It’s interesting how gender always haunts debates about civilisation. In 1790, Edmund Burke – a philosopher writing before Marie’s execution – predicted that the lack of chivalry shown towards the queen would eventually spell disaster for all women and all France. In a world without etiquette or distinction, he said, “a queen is but a woman; a woman is but an animal, and an animal not of the highest order”. Abusing monarchs, like burning books, erodes dignity and encourages murder.

France’s decline is nothing special. In some regards it is ahead of us; in others, behind. The depressing point is that it is familiar. These Olympics have been marred by racial tension, incompetence, poor taste, unreliable railways, filthy river water and terrible weather. France’s fate is worse than death: she has become Great Britain.

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thedupshadove · 2 years ago

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Thought that came to me out of a clear blue sky…Little Shop of Horrors roleswap au.

Same setup at the beginning, but it’s Audrey who impulse-buys the Strange and Interesting Plant (which she probably names Seymour the Second), cares for it, and discovers its…unusual dietary needs (maybe instead of bandaids, she covers the wounds on her hands by wearing gloves more often, apparently as a fashion statement. Or maybe she chalks it up to Orin.) Success comes to the shop, with Audrey being the one to get radio interviews and sudden acclaim (boosting her confidence somewhat, but only convincing Seymour even more firmly that he could never ask her out. She was always too beautiful for him, and now with this influx of cash she’s going to end up a lady, so how could somebody like him have any chance? If only he knew…)

Once the plant begins to talk, it convinces her to kill Mushnik first, by highlighting how mean he is to Seymour after that boy’s done nothing but slave for him all his life in exchange for scraps of scraps. She tells herself that she’s going to confront him first, and only if she can’t make him see reason will she use the derringer in her purse, but inevitably…

I want to preserve the “I can off this guy by staying in the chair” moment, but obviously Mushnik doesn’t use nitrous oxide recreationally…right now I’ve got it down to a choice between a sudden heart attack where Audrey just…doesn’t call an ambulance, or else he’s eating during their conversation (to show how little mind he pays to requests to treat Seymour better), and she conspicuously fails to Heimlich him when he chokes.

In the aftermath of Mushnik’s death (which of his two assistants did he leave the shop to? I’m not sure yet), Audrey does her best to help Seymour through his tangled emotions, assuaging his guilt at not being as sad as he should be by pointing out that Mushnik was never as nice to him as he should have been, after all. This culminates in an impulsive kiss that breaks the tension between them into an open declaration of love…which Orin just happens to overhear.

He corners her later that evening, more angry than she’s ever seen him (and we all know that’s saying something), but unfortunately for him he made the mistake of staging his jealous little rage in the flower shop, so when she bats her eyes and calls him “Doctor” and explains that the plant has some spines on the front, so if they make love with her back against it surely that will show him just how sorry she is…well, Suppertime indeed.

From there things can run pretty much the same as the original, to whichever version of the ending you prefer. Now, let’s talk songs!

Most of them can be kept pretty much the same, with at most some shuffling around parts and re-writing lyrics. “Suddenly Seymour” can even keep its title phrase, with the lyrics being shifted to be about Audrey convincing Seymour that he’s someone worth paying attention to. The only real sticking point is “Somewhere That’s Green”. Since Audrey, as our new main character, will be getting the likes of “Grow for Me” and “The Meek Shall Inherit”, it seems only fair that Seymour, having been moved to the position of Love Interest, should get the Love Interest Song. But it can’t be as simple as moving some pronouns around–a guy wishing for the woman he’s interested in to be a parody of a 50s housewife has a different vibe from a woman wishing to be one herself. It’s a little too unsympathetic, especially now that Seymour isn’t even the murderer. But then what do we do with it? With Audrey being the one leading the way to financial success, is the song now about Seymour’s secret, socially-deviant desire to become a malewife?

#Little Shop of Horrors

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ashtonsunshine · 11 months ago

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hey carmo!! i'm wondering if i can ask you maybe a couple questions/for advice as someone who's on other social medias than just tumblr? (to which i have to say 1) you're so pretty omg and 2) congrats on ashton retweeting you and liking your poster) i've been off basically all my other socials for about a year now and i'm realising i'm much more able to be myself on here without the expectations of all the people i still have on my socials from school and uni and every part of my life, and showing this side of myself on say, instagram, is kinda terrifying me, but at the same time it's important to me to push through this and get to the point i can be more genuine on there, i know it'll feel good when whoever still follows me knows a version of me that isn't as fake and highly masking as i've been for most of my life.

kinda pressuring myself on this rn too because i've gone and made a parody of red line that's about protesting genocide and i know if i post it there's a nonzero chance ashton will see it and if he sees it he will absolutely love it but i've never posted any of my music online before and i've also never sung anything in public either. and these are just things that are scary but i can get through them, but in the meantime i did want to ask, how do you do it, how do you decide what to post on there vs here, etc, if you're willing to answer at all? anyway thank you so much <3

Hello! 😊

Thank you so much! That's very nice of you. 💛

I've been on Tumblr for so long now and I'm pretty sure that people on here who follow me from the beginning can attest to the fact that I'm not the same person I was back then. I've grown a lot here. More confident. More outwards. More free. More unashamedly me.

Back then, there were no relatives on my Instagram, which made it easy for me to just do whatever I wanted. I've always been very careful in keeping family away from me online (hence Tumblr) because, as you said, expectations. That's why my Facebook is dead. All of them are on there. I was never afraid of my friends or uni colleagues. At 23, I had stopped caring in a way. I just wanted to be me, but it still didn't come naturally. I was still in my shell and afraid of what people would think, but I kept posting photos I liked that I wasn't ashamed of.

However, as the years went by, relatives started migrating onto Instagram, and I couldn't just block them (I mean, I could, but, ya know, interrogation would follow), so I just let it happen. I did block them from seeing my stories, though, so I still have some total relative-free freedom on there. Now they comment on my pics online and irl and they just accept it. What are they going to do? Tell a (almost) 30 year old woman what to do? I don't think so. I'd tell them to fuck off. They know not to mess with me anymore. 🤣

I personally always used social media for the things and people I like, and not to please anyone but me. I created and upkept my own bubbly, happy and genuine bubble, and I love it and wouldn't trade it for anything. I'm still very awkward in person, though, but I'm embracing looking stupid and silly in order to be able to move on with my life. It's not easy, but we roll anyways. 😎

My point is: it takes time and a it's a constant effort. You don't need to go all out, just bit by bit. You'll reach a point where you don't care anymore. And if someone has anything unpleasant to say about you or what you like, then bye bye! You don't need them in your life. You said "whoever still follows me", and that's exactly it. Those who don't mind your quirks and genuinely like you will stay, and that's all that matters. Hell, they might even encourage you further! 😊

When it comes to what I post here vs anywhere else, it's simple. I have different standards for each. Tumblr is for fandom and for me to be silly and fun and weird and insanely unfiltered. Instagram is for me irl, so it's more curated (my photos, my art, be it 5SOS or not). And Twitter is for...., honestly, I don't know. The reason I still have Twitter is because Ashton follows me on there, so I have a higher chance of him seeing my stuff. My Twitter page is very quiet. My feed is basically updates from artists I like. I don't do the social on there because I've always been scared of Twitter fandom, ngl. 😅

I only started posting my art on Instagram and Twitter because I wanted 5SOS to see it, and it has paid off on various occasions, which made me very happy. So there is a chance he will see your song, but you have to tag him in it. That's what I do. That's how he saw my StyH poster.

My advice to you, and for anyone who's reading this, is to be yourself, and I don't mean that in a magical oh just be yourself kinda way. I mean it as be genuine in what you post, wherever and whatever it might be. Masking or not masking. If you post something you truly like and that you are truly fully comfortable with, then there's nothing to fear. If people leave, then they leave. It doesn't need to be grandiose. It can be something little for a start. A photo that you absolutely adore but think that people will find weird, for example.

For me, I've learnt over the years to just be. I'm living my life, and I'm not ashamed of what I like. I'm insignificant, so I'm just gonna exist my own way. I don't care anymore. If people think I'm crazy for liking a band so much, so be it. I'm not hurting anyone. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I kinda ramble a bit, but I hope it was helpful. 😚

#you'll find the balance #ask

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porphyriosao3 · 7 months ago

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Day 11 - Poet

Bilbo loved the Feast of Sunreturn; he always had, even as a faunt. The winter cold was beginning to set in, yes, but it was still new enough and cellars were still full enough that it was exciting rather than worrisome. The evergreens hung on all available surfaces made everything look festive and bright, and the candles and bonfires to welcome back the newborn sun in the darkest night were a joyful presence.

Needless to say, the dwarves had their own take on the festival - living beneath the mountains, the seasons were not as relevant and it was always light in the kingdoms below with their seemingly infinite lamps.

What made the dwarven version of the feast worthy was that for the only time in the year, Thorin (and even more joyfully, Bilbo) didn't have to wear crowns and robes, all the regalia and pomp of their position getting in the way of any normal interaction.... no, for the three days of the feast, they were just treated as normal people, and it was so terribly pleasant the hobbit could barely wait each year. They were still protected, of course; wouldn't do to have royalty subjected to the common brawling, for example, but even so! Free to wear regular clothes outside the royal quarters! Being able to serve himself his food! Being able to go visiting like a normal person! Oh, it was everything he had never thought to value and didn't realize how much he would miss, all at once! Thorin gave amazing and deeply thoughtful gifts, but if Bilbo was being honest, he found the freedom to just be a plain hobbit for a bit to be the most joyous of all.

Which made Thorin's behavior as they entered the Great Feasting Hall that much more unusual when they walked in and Thorin immediately grabbed his arm and tried to turn him around.

"What... Thorin! Let go! What has gotten into you?" Bilbo said crossly, snatching back his arm. A suspicion crossed his mind, but... "Is Dain here?"

"No," Thorin groaned, "worse." This was news to Bilbo. Fairly alarming news, at that. Worse? Dain was capable - more than - of causing chaos up to and including setting fire to the dining hall, so Bilbo had to take this seriously.

"Tell me," he sighed. "What's going on?" A roar erupted from the hall in whose doorway they stood, and for the first time Bilbo saw an unfamiliar dwarf waving a tankard the size of a hobbit's entire head over his enormous set of unkempt, greying braids. This dwarf looked, quite frankly, like trouble. He was larger than Dwalin, even, and twice as disreputable. Broken teeth, crooked nose, the scars of many battles (and brawls, looking at his knuckles), his mouth gaped in a grin with his eyes shut like some sort of parody of the concept of drunken comedy. "Oh. Who's that? Is he the problem?"

"Yes," Thorin said, scowling. "It's the Poet." As he said that, the dwarf stood with the tremendous solemnity only the deeply drunk can muster. Grinning at a dwarf standing near the stage, he placed his hand over his heart, swigged the remainder of whatever was in that giant tankard and paused for a moment while the crowd seemed to hold its breath. A torrent of Khuzdul poured from his lips, sounding (as always) to Bilbo as though the dwarf was gargling with a mouthful of pebbles, but the roar of the crowd's approval was so loud it was almost a physical presence. The dwarf he'd been gazing at seemed to try to laugh along, though he was glowing crimson and soon slunk away. Thorin snorted and grinned in spite of himself, Bilbo could tell, because he immediately scowled and looked quite cross.

"The... Poet," Bilbo repeated slowly. "Right. What sort of poetry does he write, then? I mean, I rather like poems myself, although..." A dubious look cast towards the stage finished the sentence for him. Just as well, he supposed, because the dwarf had looked over and seen them framed in the door.

"The King! And his wee Kinglet!" came an astonishingly stentorian voice ringing over the crowd. A slightly uncomfortable silence fell, and Bilbo wondered if this was going to be considered a bridge too far, even for the period of faux-normality. Dwarves had a very constrained concept of lèse-majesté, he had found, but when it was crossed... Bilbo saw the guards look up from where they stood and hoped something terrible wasn't about to happen. Instead, another rumbling, rattling stream of words followed as the enormous dwarf smiled beatifically, belched, and tried to bow, ending up falling on his nose. The crowd's roar was the loudest yet, though Bilbo barely noticed as a flaming-cheeked Thorin physically dragged him back out of the room and down the hall.

It took Bilbo substantially more than three days to get a translation of what had been said. By the second day, he assumed it must be quite scurrilous, but every attempt was thwarted. Finally, by deploying the secret weapon of threats AND biscuits, he got the weakest member of the family to crack - Kili, of course. That night as they prepared for bed, Bilbo glanced up at Thorin where he was removing his breeches. "So, tell me Thorin," he said guilelessly, "how exactly did the Poet know how 'oversized' you were? Something you need to confess?" It is with the greatest regret that the scribe must inform his readers that history does not record the remainder of this conversation.

#thorin #bilbo #the poet #dwarrowtober #dwarrowtober 2024 #hidden dangers of dwarf society #beware the poet #how I suspect bardic satires ACTUALLY went #as opposed to the scrubbed Victorian version

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fizzyorange-v2 · 2 years ago

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yeah you put all of my thoughts about david and william's relationship into that one post they're so tragic... i cant help but think of a different timeline where they could have been awkward brothers together, maybe one where they didn't both come from deadwood. the foreshadowing on william's part too, where in the Michael in the Bathroom parody intro from ep 32 (of all places) william sings "he's always such a bummer, he wants to trust his brother" in referring to himself. Also, the implication that everyone who comes from deadwood is messed up makes me wonder how william's parents are. maybe it has to do with the hallway of fears all the way from season 1, where william's mirror showed his father behind him with messed up eyes?

/ pd ep 33 spoilers referenced beware

Maybe in a totally different universe they could’ve had an awkward and strained but mostly healthy and normal sibling relationship. but god knows with who David is in this universe (a morally corrupt ceo) any version of William that allows himself to get close with and trust his step brother is a version that is either equally morally corrupt, very manipulated or both, and no matter what it wouldn’t be a healthy dynamic. (and that’s not really a compliant on my part, i adore fucked up and messy relationships in media lol).

Totally agree that the Michael In The Bathroom cover gave us probably one of the clearest looks into William’s psyche during this whole thing. William really did go that far because he wanted to trust his brother, and he knew if he backed out then he could lose that potential sibling relationship forever. But obviously once he realised he’d actually KILLED someone for it… the betrayal and horror overpowered that old yearning.

William’s parents have always been a source of interest to me because like… William has never said anything outwardly negative about them, but then his actions and demeanour around them always portray something slightly different. I do believe he loves and cares for his parents. But I also think the relationship there has always been kind of strained. My guess is, on top of the general David was the big shot success story William could never live up to, William was always quite distant with his family. He could always see the supernatural (something that even then made him somewhat a freak from this weird but still rural seemingly conservative leaning town) and he spent most of his time out with friends on hunts that I doubt he ever told his parents the truth of before he actually died.

His parents are canonically church goers, it would make sense that William wouldn’t want to tell them he was messing around with devilish stuff, nor that he himself was possessed in some way and able to see the dead. But then he dies, and his freakishness goes from 1 to 100 and there’s no way he can hide it now, especially not if his parents are shown his dead, lifeless body before he wakes back up in it. And maybe his parents saw this as a miracle at first, rather than the work of the devil, but either way we know from the recent rolled that William truly believes his parents see him as some freak, and I’d definitely guess the other towns people if they knew… maybe it wasn’t great for the family reputation wise in such a small town.

And there is something to the fact that, well, in the end when the monsters came for William they did just give him away to the heroes. And sure, they stayed in touch somewhat? But even then it’s one or two calls in months to years of time to your teenaged kid (though I’ll retract that if it’s implied that it was William dodging their calls… but even that leads to a point I’ll make in a bit).

But then whenever they do come back,,, even after everything they don’t seem to take William seriously. Which is very interesting. They’re often worried about him, but they don’t seem to listen to him as we saw in their recent scene where his mum got mad and had to be really persuaded to leave. They don’t seem to comprehend the severity.

They don’t understand what’s going on with him, they don’t have a clue, and I don’t think they ever really did. I think William has always been too afraid to tell them the truth about what’s going on with him (whether that was being able to see the dead, or now all the hero villain mess he’s stuck in), he’s always been afraid of them seeing him like a freak, them no longer loving him. And so he keeps it a secret and he keeps it away from them and he distances himself the best he can. He’d probably argue that it’s to keep them safe, but I think he’s mostly protecting his own heartbreak of them finding out “who he really is” and rejecting him. I think that’s his big fear, and it’s a fear he’s carried around with him since even before his first death.

So while I don’t think his parents are,,, necessarily malicious. I think they’ve definitely fucked up with William. I don’t think they ever made him feel safe enough to be himself around them. I don’t think they’ve ever been there for William when he really needed. And I don’t think they’ve ever known who their son was. But then they still act like they know best for him, they still play the concerned parents. And I think they genuinely believe they do know and want what’s best for William. But the issue there is… they don’t know who William is, and they haven’t for a really long time.

David left too, y’know? He also got the hell out deadwood as soon as he could. He also talked to (and bonded with) William over their clear joint disliking of that place. And I wonder if his parents are oblivious to how much their kids hated where they grew up, if they’re just oblivious to all of the weirdness of deadwood. Why they chose to live and stay there in the first place. They still live there to this day!

I don’t know,,, I have a lot of thoughts about the wisp-bell family and all the mess and dysfunction there. I didn’t even really get into the religious trauma of it all, which is likely a strong part of why William felt the need to hide and distance himself from his parents,,, but yeah I’ll stop rambling for now lol

#jrwi pd #jrwi prime defenders #pd spoilers #pd analysis #william wisp #david bell #janet wisp #mr. wisp #fizz character thoughts #fizz asks

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