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porcelainseashore · 2 days

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Into the Ether (3)

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, ...)

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, minor character death, RE characters (Chris, Claire, Ada, Wesker, Jill, Sherry, Hunnigan, Rebecca, Baker Family, Merchant, Patrick), VtM concepts (Camarilla, Anarch, Sabbat, Second Inquisition, Toreador, Ventrue, Brujah, Gangrel, Nosferatu, Malkavian, Tremere, Ghouls).

Authors' Note: Suggestive themes, violence and mild gore ahead.

Taglist: @admirxation @xoxostarlet @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥

AO3 Link

Chapter 3: Fires of Rebellion

“So, talk,” you demanded, crossing your arms as you kept yourself at a suitable distance from Leon.

Both of you were currently walking up north along Good Street towards the City College. The plan had been to take a left at some point and head over to the park by Warren Street, where hopefully there would be some benches for you to relax on. It was still early enough in the night for your surroundings to be relatively bustling with people, so you weren’t too worried that the man beside you would try anything risky or stupid. In any case, you knew where you kept your pepper spray at hand if things went south.

“You’d already sensed it from the beginning,” he stated, swallowing thickly. How was it this hard to tell you who he really was? If he could sweat blood, he’d fill a whole bucket’s worth. Pig’s blood. A cop in pig’s blood. He knew plenty of people who’d pay to see him drenched in the vermillion fluid. “That I’m not exactly normal.” That was what he settled with.

“What, you mean like a serial killer or something?” you scoffed, shaking your head in mild vexation.

“No.” His voice was solemn but firm as he glanced at you briefly, making eye contact. “I didn’t… assault you, not in the way you think.” He pressed his lips together into a thin line. “I just- I do things… that aren’t exactly normal.”

Great, Leon. You just made yourself sound like a fucking magician. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and paused his footsteps. “This is going well.”

You almost felt sorry for the guy. He seemed to be having such a difficult time articulating what he wanted to say. Was it some sort of kink he was talking about? The logical part of your mind berated you, insisting that this could go down far worse than you imagined, but you pushed it aside.

“Like what?” you asked, your morbid curiosity getting the better of you.

His jaw tightened as he shifted his weight uncomfortably from side to side.

Before he could respond, you took the initiative, positioning yourself in front of him as a form of challenge. “Show me,” you requested.

His head darted in every direction, scanning the area with an animalistic instinctiveness and you thought you saw his eyes illuminate in a different color. However, when you blinked a second later, it had returned to its original pale shade of blue. “Too many people,” he muttered. “I’ll do as you ask, but we need to head somewhere quieter.”

You should’ve ran off after he said that, but your legs stayed rooted to the ground. Your lack of self-preservation was alarming. “The park, then?” you suggested.

He nodded in compromise. “I could work with that.”

The rest of the walk there took place in awkward silence, as you dwelled on what he would do and whether you were walking into one big, fat trap. Well, at least Patrick had his business card. And PIs, they had a registered license, didn’t they? It was too late to back out now, you’d gone this far and you wanted to see it through.

When you had found a secluded bench at one of the shaded corners of the park, he spoke up again. “Do you remember the first night we met? When-”

“You offered me cigarettes in exchange for coffee,” you finished the sentence for him.

“Yes,” he said with a wistful smile, as if reminiscing about a day he’d cherished but had long since passed. “You felt it, didn’t you? Compelled to stay, but with no reason why.”

Despite your reluctance, you had to agree with him. That moment between standing by his table and sitting with him to share in a smoke had been like entering the twilight zone. You were you, but yet, at the same time, weren’t.

“I can do it again here, if you want,” he murmured, his eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to bore right into you.

It wasn’t the first time you had leaped before looking. You’d always been known to be a little more reckless than your peers, but it seemed like you never really learnt your lesson well. “Be my guest,” you gestured melodramatically, as your hand swept across in one grand motion.

“Now, you’re just mocking me,” he chided, though a ghost of a smile still lingered on his lips.

This time, there was a tingling sensation in your body, like an invisible warm light gradually enveloping you, except it seemed to exude from him. You were entranced by his stature, the minute details of his face, everything about what he was, to the point where you couldn’t tear yourself away from his gaze.

“Sit,” he directed gently, placing his hand along the back of the wooden bench.

You felt nothing but desire. Desire to do anything he wanted you to. Without a word, you sank onto the bench like a doll, still giving him that doe-eyed expression one would normally reserve for a celebrity they were starstruck by.

Taking his seat beside you, he urged, “Come closer.”

Obediently, you shuffled up along the bench towards him, except it wasn’t out of fear of punishment, but a strange, radiant love that emanated from within you. When you were just inches away from his face, he slowly revealed the tips of his canine teeth, which were pointier than usual, and seemed to grow with each passing minute. As his features eased up, you could feel the uncanny warmth dissipate from your core, and though you were still captivated by him, his face seemed to lack the same lustrous sheen it held moments ago. Like a wandering spirit, you had arrived back into your own body. You were you again.

His eyes latched onto you, waiting, watching, biding his time, to see what you would do. Though he remained poised and composed, the unsteadiness of his breathing and the flicker of trepidation across his irises gave him away. He was afraid that you would leave him, for good. And after what he had given to have the right to Embrace you, he wouldn’t know how he would live with himself if he were rejected.

It felt like hours had gone by until one of you spoke up. “Do you hate what you see?”

“No,” you answered, almost too quickly, cupping his cold cheek in the palm of your hand. He closed his eyes and sighed blissfully into it, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It felt moist and heated against your skin.

You surprised yourself with how well you were taking all of this in. This shouldn’t have been possible and nothing about what he had shown you made sense. You blamed your tolerance on the late, sleepless nights and hanging around with the offbeat characters who frequented your cafe.

What if monsters did exist? you humored. Maybe not in the literal sense of vampires, but someone who relished the flavor of blood, and who’d learnt a few tricks of hypnotism. You tried to rationalize it as much as you could, but there were still so many missing pieces you did not fully understand.

“How many times?” you asked. “Did you force me… each night?”

He lowered his gaze, marred by shame, while looking to his hands nestled in his lap. “It was just that once,” he whispered. “I wanted you to stay with me.”

He pursed his lips. “The rest, later on… was you.”

“Did you-”

“Yes.”

You didn’t even need to continue your sentence for him to know what you meant. Yes, he tasted your blood. Yes, he enjoyed it. Yes, he came back for more. And more.

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracked.

You didn’t acknowledge his apology, allowing even more time to slip through your fingers. A while later, you ran them along his cheek towards his lips, where his teeth which now looked more like fangs lurked. Right, how would you explain that away?

He didn’t stop you when you traced one of their edges, as if trying to figure out if they were real. He let you press the tip of your finger against its peak, purposely pricking yourself in some kind of deluded masochistic fantasy. The rush you felt from it was indescribable, like a spike of venom flowing into your veins, though it wasn’t as intense as the previous times to truly immobilize you. Grasping onto the back of the bench, you steadied yourself from the dizzying sensation.

A dark, ruby bead blossomed at the site of the puncture. His mouth lay open as he inhaled sharply, gripping the trousers on his thighs, and there was a wild look in his bloodshot eyes. However, he remained motionless, restraining himself somehow, as if awaiting your instruction.

“You like this?” A mixture of bewilderment and arousal seeped into your tone, as you brought your bleeding finger to rest just at the entrance of his mouth.

All at once, his veneer of calmness shattered. He swirled his tongue against your fingertip, causing you to gasp as it made hot laps around the miniscule droplet of blood you had to offer him. Dipping his head, he took the rest of your digit into his mouth, eventually sucking on it whole as he emitted a low groan in pleasure. When he finally let it go, a slick string of saliva connected to it from his lips, wet and hungry with need.

“I, um-” you shuddered, at a loss for words, as you retracted your finger, folding it into your hand.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he straightened up in his seat, adjusting his attire and hair, as if he had come back to his senses once again. “You don’t have to decide on this right now,” he assured you.

“Okay.” You nodded shakily, your mind spinning from all the events that had just transpired. “Could we take another short walk before I head home?”

It would probably help to cool off a little, you thought.

“Anything you need,” he asserted, getting up as he took another glance around the park, before extending his hand to you.

You stared at it, contemplating further. “Just don’t-” you hesitated, pausing to rephrase your words. “I want to trust you, Leon.”

“I’ll earn it back,” he promised. “However long it takes.”

That was all you needed to hear from him. Perhaps you were naive to a fault, but you took his hand anyway, allowing him to lead you out of the park, and to whatever else fate had in store for you that night.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Over the course of the evening, a thin fog had developed, shrouding the sky and enveloping the moon and stars in a blurry veil, casting a muted light over the city. You and Leon had taken a short detour towards the more touristy part of town, where the landmark Saint Michael Clock Tower overlooked the grand waterway.

The ornate, Gothic structure loomed intimidatingly ahead, its roof cloaked in a wispy gray mist, though you could still make out the time on its huge clock face. Ten minutes past midnight. It was getting late, and although you were accustomed to working until the wee hours of the morning, you preferred to get some sleep on your nights off when possible. However, right now, a part of you wished that the night would last longer.

There wasn’t such a wide distance between you and Leon as before. In fact, your fingers were nearly touching, but neither of you had taken it further to close the final gap. Even in complete silence, punctuated only by the sounds of the city’s buzzing nightlife, both of you had somehow agreed on which pathways to take, falling in sync with each other’s footsteps, pauses and turns, like an unspoken dance. It was nice like this, having no expectations of the other person, just walking and feeling the thread of connection that bound the two of you.

Every now and then, he peered at you inquisitively, and you wondered if he had something to say, but when you looked his way, he turned his gaze back to the street in front of him. Coming to the entrance of a tunnel arbor near the clocktower, you paused to admire the sight of the vines and flowers that were wound around the metallic arches, interspersed with marigold fairy lights. There were still a decent number of stragglers in the vicinity. Probably the remaining tourists for the day who didn’t quite want to wrap up yet, some of whom were posing for pictures near the picaresque arbors.

“Cat caught your tongue?” Always the instigator and taking the confrontational approach. That was what you were known for.

“Hm?” he deflected, yet smiled at you knowingly.

“Just looked like you had something to say.” You shrugged, placing your hands on your hips.

“Nothing escapes you, huh?”

He was teasing you again; you were certain of it. Though this appeared to be twofold, where the second part was meant as a misdirection to hide a secret from you.

“It should be obvious that I like you,” he stated plainly.

Obvious to the point where he couldn’t afford to have one of those obnoxious Anarchs stake their claim over you, just for a bit of territory. You were worth so much more to him than that. Surely, it would be the lesser of two evils for him to be the one to Embrace you? It was all he could think about when he made that deal with Ada. Always justifying and compromising. That was what he was known for.

You couldn't fathom the sheer astonishment and joy that overcame him when Ada returned with the news a few weeks later:

“The Prince granted your wish,” she mentioned with an indifferent wave of her hand.

“How?” he choked in disbelief. “It usually takes years!”

“You underestimate me,” she scoffed. “Have you forgotten that I’m the voice of society?”

“No, of course not.” He hung his head in disgrace, as if he had just been told off by a parent.

“Anyway, I don’t have to tell you twice that you should thank him in person.”

Lifting a bejeweled chalice to her lips, she tasted its contents, allowing it to linger on the palate before letting it wash down her throat. “And by ‘thank’, I mean ‘grovel’.”

“Yes, sire.” He bent down on his knee and kissed the back of her hand in respect.

A shadow of annoyance flickered across her face, morphing into a frown. “You do know this makes you look weak?” she questioned rhetorically. “Being unable to convince the Prince yourself?”

He knew better than to respond when Ada was in such a mood.

“Don’t embarrass me.”

Her warning rang loud and clear in his ears.

“Who is it obvious to?” you challenged, pulling him out of his reverie. Maybe you had an undeniable urge to see him lose control over you again.

At this, he drew closer towards you, his eyes ablaze like a blue flame, as he snaked his arms around your waist. That was it - the thrill, the feeling you missed. It rippled through your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. But before he could go any further, a sudden force tore him from his hold on you, hauling him violently backwards. He was flung in the air across a couple of yards, landing against the wall of a building with a sickening crack.

In the background, you heard screams coming from all directions, alongside whooshing sounds, followed by loud thuds. One soon popped up behind you and in an instant you found yourself smacked to the ground. There was a shrill ringing in your ears, your eyes watered, and your vision blurred as you started seeing double in front of you. You felt the back of your head. Wet. Sticky. Flowing. Your fingers were red and the concussion you suffered induced a dizzying spell.

A grizzly face appeared before you, but you couldn’t quite make out any distinguishable features, except for the familiar shape of long fangs that glistened under the arbor lights. There was no time to put up a fight or even cry out for help, as you began to sink deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.

Leon had watched the entire scene unfurl before him like a twisted snuff film coming to life. The attack had taken him by surprise, but he quickly got up from his fall, resetting his bones and shaking it off like nothing had happened. The whole place was awash in scarlet. Blood streaked the city streets, trickling into every gap and crack, as the victims were messily drained of their lifesource. Whoever was behind this wanted the world to know. And that was when he witnessed the first of them turn.

A Mass Embrace? These Kindred definitely reeked of the Sabbat, and if not, they weren’t anyone who had been presented before the Prince; he would know. There wasn’t a second left to spare - he had to find you immediately. In his line of sight, he saw one of the culprits feeding on you greedily, and the primal rage he felt within him almost caused his Beast to take over. He hunched over and growled ferociously. His features transformed into something monstrous and his eyes were crazed as globs of saliva dribbled down his mouth.

It was fanning the flames of a Frenzy, one where he would slaughter every being in his path regardless of who they were, tearing them from limb to limb, and eviscerating their carcasses for what they had done to you. But his concern for your well-being won him over. Mustering up his willpower, he resisted the Beast as much as he could, and though he was still enraged, he needed to think straight and prioritize getting you to safety. That was all that mattered.

In the bat of an eye, he zipped across, yanking the other vampire away from your limp body, as they traded rapid blows. Another aggressor joined in the fight, as Leon dodged their swift counterattacks with deceptive ease, before connecting his right fist to one of their jaws and dealing a precise uppercut with his left to the other’s ribs, catching both of them off-guard.

Everything seemed to pass by in quicktime as he moved with an unnatural grace, spinning mid-air over one of their backs, only to grab the other from behind and slam him to the ground savagely. Gathering the rest of his strength, he took advantage of the momentum to stomp on the vampire’s head with the heel of his shoe. There was a nauseating crunch as his skull caved in from the blunt force trauma, splintering and sending blood splashing across the pavement, driving him straight into torpor. One down, one more to go.

The brutality of the violence he had displayed unnerved him, yet fuelled his excitement as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He attributed it to being partially influenced by the Beast the moment those bastards had put your life in danger. At least he had not fully succumbed to it. That was what he tried to tell himself while putting a lid on his unquenchable thirst for more. More violence. More bloodshed. They deserve it…

A cacophony of ghastly howls erupted from a distance, bringing him back to reality. Jill, it had to be, Leon realized. The Sheriff was coming to subdue this severe breach of the Masquerade. As the other vampire lunged at him, Leon’s reflexes took over, timing it such that he skirted the edge of the assault unscathed. Instead, he circled around, placing the attacker in an unyielding headlock. The vampire struggled vigorously, attempting to kick and claw his way out of Leon’s grip.

It was then that he heard Jill’s gruff yells in the vicinity, as the pack of dogs under her control barked and gnashed their teeth viciously at the remaining offenders, clamping down on their legs to prevent them from escaping. The Hound, a group of Kindred who reported to her, had arrived in tow, twirling wooden shafts in their hands, each sharpened at one end. Grinning menacingly, they struck at the assailants, staking them immobile before dragging them away.

“You need this one?” Leon called out. He might as well play by their rules where he got the chance, even if the Prince himself had decreed a perpetual Blood Hunt on the Sabbat. Anything to be in the former’s good graces. It was all for show, anyway.

Jill turned sharply, her mouth contorting into a wicked smirk, as she stalked towards him. “Leon… always at the right place, right time, huh?” Her voice was more akin to brutish snarl, but he knew when she meant her threats and when she didn’t. At this point, she was on his side.

“We have our hands full of the rebellious trash.” She jerked her thumb back to her crew, who were skulking around in the dark with their catch. “Kill this motherfucker.”

Without hesitation, Leon snapped the vampire’s neck clean, ripping his head off in the process as his lifeless body fell to the ground in a heap. Letting out a huff from the effort, he tossed the head aside, feeling nothing for the wretched being that lay at his feet. Or did he? He chose not to dwell on it any further, finding something else to distract himself with as he glanced down at his clothes, frowning when he noticed they were smeared with all sorts of fluids and innards. Dry cleaning was gonna be a bitch.

Jill signaled towards your body with her chin. “This one’s barely alive.”

“She’s mine.” A deep-seated possessiveness surged through him as he stepped between you and Jill, unwilling to let you be snatched away from his grasp again. Swooping down, he lifted you into his arms, ready to cart you off from this gruesome site. “Please, I don’t have much time.”

Narrowing her eyes, she tilted her head and a low rumble reverberated from her chest. “Alright, pretty boy. You’re answerable to the Prince though,” she warned.

“Understood,” he replied snippily, cringing at the nickname she often used to wind him up.

Directing her attention once again to her Hound, she commanded, “Torch the rest!”

The poor, newly created vampires never stood a chance, dealing with both the life-changing alterations to their bodies and the molotov cocktails now lobbed at them. They had no idea what was happening as they were set aflame in the towering bonfire, screeching and wailing until they were reduced to nothing but ashes. The smell of singed skin and flesh hung in the air.

Tightening his grip on you, Leon recoiled involuntarily in fear as he fled from the raging inferno. “Hang in there for me,” he whispered, praying to a long-forgotten god that he wouldn’t be too late this time.

Racing like his life depended on it, he kept to the shadows, using the cover of darkness to navigate through the maze of Raccoon City towards his haven.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #vampire au #vampire the masquerade #vtm #crossover #porcelainscribbles

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powerpuffobsession · 2 days

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As much as I love Adam for a few fun parts of his character and for what he could have been at the hands of a competent writer (as shown by the fanfics where he gets properly developed)...

I feel like he (and the way he's characterised) is what broke Hazbin hotel season 1 pacing, Lucifer's character and the show's overall atmosphere.

(Long and packed rant under the cut, because I've been having these thoughts since I saw season 1, and I want to share them. Viewer discretion is adviced)

Before Adam existed (pilot era) it was all simple and worked more properly: a story about the hotel and its inhabitants, and most importanty, redemption. It was a small snuggly location with a few characters in the center of a plot

Heaven was in the background and kept as a mystery. Moreover, from what we've seen in the pilot, Lucifer was obviously a background villain or at least an anti hero, one of the real obstacles for Charlie to overcome on the way to her goal (instead of a minor inconveniece resolved in a single broadway song)

But when Adam and his weird obsession with murder broke into that perfectly cut out premise, everything just shattered. Too many themes got weaved into the short story of the 8 episodes: Heaven vs Hell politics, overlords, war, Charlie's conflict with Adam, the seraphims...

All of that pushed the hotel and the redemption to the background instead of Heaven.... in a cartoon that's named after the hotel. Because 8 episodes is not enough to talk about politics, a war and a 6 month redemption course (the latter even happened behind the screen with only some verbal hints given about the amazing secretive progress the hotel guests made that we were not allowed to see!)

(Had this cartoon stayed indie, there would have been a possibility of making more episodes and tackling more themes properly. But big name broadway actors are more important than that, it appears)

Back to Adam.

He is not even a good villain. He really should have been more of a background antihero. Give the man some sedatives, for f's sake! Where did all that rabidity even come from, after centuries of living in Heaven? Honestly, he'd be expected to act calmer and wiser than how he actually did, especially with how old he is (as old as the earth itself). But instead it's like he got frozen in a state of a dumb jock bully from high school

Imagine if Adam allowed Charlie and her hotel guests to prove that redemption is possible, out of principle, or curiosity. Hell, maybe even allow him to threaten to kill them, but not straight away! Later, after they fail to prove him wrong! If that's what Adam's role had been, the hotel part would have gotten time to breathe and more spotlight

All Adam did in the series, was:

1. make a lot of excessive noise

2. do dumbass things (and it wasn't even explained WHY he's the way he is, not even a single flashback or his own musings and thoughts shown, which makes all of his actions fall flat in every sense)

3. break the remains of logic (Heaven looks plain dumb because of him, not able to tell sinning from non sinning and to judge human souls properly. It's not even corruption, since Adam is not that important or benefitial to Heaven, an actual archangel like Michael could have been leading exorcists in his place and do a better job.... it's just stupidity)

And then Adam just died, for nothing and with no consequences.

I mean, straight after Adam's death Lucifer is immediately trying to divert the viewer's attention: "who wants pancakes? :D". It's like the cartoon itself doesn't care that the first human, one of the most mysterious beings in vivzieverse and someone who badly needed a second chance and therapy, just died. By a very stupid joke too (Niffty didn't even have to stab him).

In short, Adam's plotline is a huge waste of screen time...

And while his final smile to Lute may give us some hints that there's something good inside Adam, but it's more akin to mockery. Since we were never shown that there's more to Adam besides "the main character's opponent=ultimate bad"

And of course Lucifer was retconned into a pathetic uwu boi, who's depression and "silliness" have overshadowed the fact that he practically doomed humanity to a life full of pain, suffering and surviving and took away Adam and Eve's home. We don't even get the slightest glimpse of what exactly Lucifer DREAMED of that was so important to force him to do the humans dirty. Meaning it was something abstract and not thought-through anyway.

(Free will my ass.. Adam and Lilith did as they pleased in Eden without the free will, Adam ordering his wives around, Lilith being able to defy him and Eve being able to disobey God. What good did "free will" from that fruit even do them? If anything, it only did harm to everyone)

And so now this daft egotist is being portrayed as this selfless harmless character only for the sake of contrasting the painfully obvious bad evil that Adam is.

That comes off as black and white writing, fit more for a childrens cartoon, despite the show critisizing Adam for thinking in black and white terms. Not a good look

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #anti lucifer

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buddieisgoingcanon2024 · 2 days

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My Buddie Theory:

So, I think from this point on that Buck is gonna be with Tommy and figure more out about himself, how to actually be with a man etc, Eddie will start becoming jealous, but have no idea why, when he hangs out with BuckTommy and seeing them be all ‘close’ seeing Buck being happy and touching/kissing another man he’ll be jealous and confused.

Eddie will continue down his catholic guilt route, we’ll see his relationship with Marisol fail and he’ll struggle to understand why he can’t hold a relationship or do what he thinks is right whilst being jealous of Tommy. I think that he knows he loves Buck just not that he is gay.

I think Tommy knows deep down there is something between Eddie and Buck and at some point will tell Buck that he doesn’t think they’ll work out for said reason and remain friends.

I think Eddie will have a realisation of “omg, I’m jealous of my best friends boyfriend” or will realise what he’s always wanted he has with Buck but he’ll realise and not say anything (especially if Buck seems really happy) like I said because I think he knew he loves him anyway but not the full extent of it. Buck will struggle when he realises and badly, he’ll think it’s unrequired because to him Eddie is straight and he doesn’t wanna lose two of the most important people in his life, his abandonment issues, I feel Buck will be the one to fight for it because I think Eddie will deal with the realisation slightly better than Buck will. Oliver said that the person Buck ends up with he’ll have to fight the hardest for and I think it’ll come down to Buck realising that he’s a bisexual man who knows his worth, can be loved and overcome his abandonment issues because…it’s Eddie and he would never abandon him no matter what, and Eddie will realise he needs to stop making other people happy and do what he wants with his life and not what others want and that’s the family he’s build with Chris and Buck. But they both end up realising what they have and always have had and how special it is whilst acknowledging that no matter what happens to them they love eachother so much that they’ll still be Best Friends first and foremost.

That would to me be the greatest gay love story ever told on a modern TV show. Well developed characters/relationship with years of history, seperate sexuality arcs, 2 fathers and a child family, bestfriends to lovers arc and if they keep hold of EVERYTHING, past references throughout the show and making connections with them no matter how big or small then WOW I will applaude them!

Oh great theory anon. I love it.

#buddie #ryan guzman #oliver stark #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #911 on abc #911 speculation

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platonically-loving-alastor · 2 days

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Aroace Alastor

Hoo boy here we go- This one might make some people mad at me, so I'll preface by saying I do not want to start a fight and as long as you respect my business, I'll respect yours. But let's get this over with-

First off, I genuinely don't understand how some people can see the Ace-In-The-Hole quote and still believe that Alastor is only intended to be asexual and not also aromantic. Yes, the term Rosie used for purpose of the pun was 'ace', but can we look at the context of that moment before jumping to conclusions?

Rosie, motioning to Charlie: "Oh, who's this you brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she's much too young for you! Oh, I'm just kidding. I know you're an ace in the hole!"

Her original statement implies nothing sexual, only that he's involved in a relationship with Charlie, and she follows it up with why she knows that couldn't be because he's an 'ace in the hole'. I don't think you have to read too far between the lines to see that.

I would also like to say that when Vivienne has spoken about his orientation before, I recall her saying that she didn't want to confirm him being aromantic so that she wouldn't 'ruin anyone's fun', which I just feel like is an odd thing to say if she wasn't already explicitly picturing him as aroace. If she thought he had romantic attraction, why wouldn't she just say that? What fun would that ruin? I also feel like keeping things like this ambiguous just to appease the shippers is a little weird, but I digress-

And to those of you who I know are saying "But aromantic people can be in relationships too!!" *deep inhale* yeah I know. I'm not gonna pretend you're not right about that, but there are also aroace people who have exactly 0 interest in romance or sex at all. This is the part of the post that really is based on how I interpret certain moments, but to me he is absolutely one of those people. I don't really know where people get any vibes of him being interested in that stuff. I have never once looked at him and thought "Yeah I could see him in a romantic relationship with *insert character here*". Even aside from attraction in general, since that's what we'd be talking about at this point anyway, he just seems like the kind of guy who'd rather work and live independently instead of relying on anyone, whether practically or emotionally (which is also probably part of the reason he never joined the Vees, but that's another topic entirely). Hell, I'm pretty sure he's in heavy denial about even developing any kind of care or friendship with the people at the hotel (ie. the episode 8 scene with him and Niffty).

The only ships I see him involved in with people he doesn't hate (so ignoring RadioApple, RadioHusk, and StaticRadio. But to be real, maybe the fact all his main ships are enemies to lovers coded says something about the whole situation, but that's just me-) are Charlastor - which I will not even try to discuss here, people aren't gonna like this post as it is - and RadioRose. Rosie and him would at least be fair, if it weren't for one thing (which is also personal opinion on my end), and I don't know exactly how to word it. I'm tempted to say she has wingwoman vibes? But she knows he's aro, so that's not the right word, but there's vibes of like, she probably did act as a wingwoman before she realized that about him or something.. There's also something about her joking around like "Oh this is the girl? You have a girlfriend and I'm only now meeting her?" is almost giving motherly behavior. Idk man they're just besties to me, I could see them in a QPR though (not that they'd probably label it that way, considering the word queerplatonic is likely just complete gibberish to Alastor lmao).

So to summarize: It feels incredibly likely, if not practically canon, that Alastor was written with aromanticism in mind, even if Vivienne refuses to explicitly state it. Subtext and not-that-subtle implications can say just as much about a character as word of God, especially when that God has explicitly told us why she won't confirm or deny this information. Do I think any of this will stop people from shipping him romantically with literally any other character? No ofc it won't, and that's okay, that's just what fandoms do. I do think there's something to say for the fact the one aroace (or even at the very least asexual) character gets constantly shipped with everyone else in the cast, but this post is long enough I think. The only point of posting this is that I wanted to get information out there in one post to say "Hey, let's look a little bit past the surface for a second before saying there's no proof of him being aromantic"

Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you at least took something away from this

#*prepares to be metaphorically burned at the stake*#i will also say i have a complicated relationship with staticradio #if its one sided thats fantastic but the moment alastor reciprocates feelings im out #will probably make a post on that too at some point #hazbin hotel #alastor #aroace alastor #rosie hazbin hotel #platonic radiorose

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alexxncl · 3 days

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‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 36 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist

MEPHISTOPHELES WHEN I FUCKING CATCH YOU i'm wiping that smug ass smirk off your face. don't play about my man's tea (i'm a lesbian)

HSNSJSDJGD he's so fed up 😭 all the man wanted was some peace and quiet

now the real question is, does diavolo want mephisto to stop lucifer from getting close to mc, or does he want to stop mc from getting close to lucifer? or both? i'm all for a poly relationship between the three of them but i've always been a dialuci girlie 🫣

oh he's such a dickhead i love him so bad

see lucifer wonders why his brothers behave the way they do. IT'S BECAUSE OF THEY LEARNED FROM WATCHING YOU !!! like lucifer is easily one of the pettiest, if not THE pettiest, out of all 7 of the brothers, but he also knows not to treat people like shit without good reason mephisto deserves all the shit he can get for

1) being racist, for lack of better phrasing;

2) being classist; and

3) being so full of himself that he can't face his own insecurities and projects them onto others

now, i'm all for character development and growth. he doesn't WANT to grow. and as much as i hate him, i love mephisto as a character. he's basically a representation of the way high society treats those that they think are "lesser" than them, even after being shown time and time again that their views and belief systems are outdated and bigoted. he and diavolo are foils almost. raised in same sphere, though mephisto definitely has had impostor syndrome for his entire life and it SHOWS

i wish we got more bits of him not being a pretentious asshole but i also think the pretentiousness adds to his value as a character yk yk

i'm calling it now, this is how he became immortal | this is also why back in season 1 of nb (i think) thirteen said that his soul wasn't as shiny as mc's anymore. it was corrupted by whatever he saw or whoever he met in the underworld. more on this here

moments like these are what i need. more depth and insight om mephisro to person, not mephisto the noble. he's such an interesting character and i feel like we only ever get a tiny glimpse of it every once in a blue moon

also, i wonder how his stance on humans now changed in the future, bc we know he was a bitch to mc on the basis of their identity in the og game

god i hate this. i knew it was was a setup from the jump

lucifer having to defend himself to mephisto, let go of his pride in the process, and now end up being framed for a crime that he obviously didn't commit? all because some racist assholes don't like the idea that he and his brothers are in consort with the future demon king

it's sad that this has to serve as a lesson to mephisto about how corrupt the lineage he was so proud to be apart of truly is, and how he's constantly perpetuating the corruption and bigoted ways of thinking just by acting in a way that benefits that lineage. but that's the way the world works outside of the game, too

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me spoilers #nightbringer spoilers #obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #obey me mephisto #obey me mephistopheles #mephisto obey me #mephistopheles obey me #obey me mc #mc obey me #obey me solomon #solomon obey me #obey me diavolo #diavolo obey me

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whencyclopedia · 2 days

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Sioux War Chief Gall (Eastman's Biography)

Gall (Phizi, l. c. 1840-1894) was a Hunkpapa Lakota Sioux war chief best known for his participation in the Battle of the Little Bighorn in June 1876. He was a close associate of Red Cloud (l. 1822-1909), Sitting Bull (l. c. 1837-1890), and Crazy Horse (l. c. 1840-1877) and was active in the resistance to Euro-American encroachment on Sioux lands.

He participated in raids on white settlers traveling the Bozeman Trail in the early 1860s but assumed a more prominent position beginning with Red Cloud's War (1866-1868) and continuing through the Great Sioux War of 1876-1877. Almost nothing is known of his youth except that he was an orphan, and his childhood name was Matohinsa (also given as Matohinshda, meaning "Bear-Shedding-His-Hair"). He was given his adult name (Phizi – "Man Who Goes in the Middle") in his teens after eating the gall bladder of an animal when he was hungry and later won a wrestling match against Roman Nose (Cheyenne warrior). Gall was adopted by Sitting Bull as a younger brother and trained by him as a warrior.

He was among the Sioux warriors (including Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse) who refused to sign the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868 ending Red Cloud's War, continuing the resistance to US expansionist policies. At the Battle of the Little Bighorn, both of his wives and many of his children were murdered by the command under Major Marcus Reno, and he then countered Reno's charge, driving him toward the river and defeating him with the assistance of Cheyenne warriors.

When Sitting Bull retreated into the region of modern-day Canada in 1877, Gall followed, but broke with his mentor/adopted brother in 1881 and returned to the United States to surrender. He was arrested and regarded as a prisoner of war before being sent to the Standing Rock Agency reservation, where he remained the rest of his life as a farmer. He served as a judge and liaison between his people and the US government, converting to Christianity and advocating for peaceful relations with Euro-Americans, but as Eastman notes, his spirit seemed broken.

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One of the most important documents on Gall is the account given by Sioux author and physician Charles A. Eastman (also known as Ohiyesa, l. 1858-1939) in his Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains (1916), based on stories he had gathered on the war chief from those who had known him. Although not a first-person account, Eastman's work is regarded as more or less accurate and the closest to an authentic biography of Gall.

The following text is taken from the 1939 edition of Eastman's work, republished in 2016:

Chief Gall was one of the most aggressive leaders of the Sioux Nation in their last stand for freedom.

The westward pressure of civilization during the past three centuries has been tremendous. When our hemisphere was "discovered", it had been inhabited by the natives for untold ages, but it was held undiscovered because the original owners did not chart or advertise it. Yet some of them at least had developed ideals of life which included real liberty and equality to all men, and they did not recognize individual ownership in land or other property beyond actual necessity. It was a soul development leading to essential manhood. Under this system they brought forth some striking characters.

Gall was considered by both Indians and whites to be a most impressive type of physical manhood. From his picture you can judge of this for yourself.

Let us follow his trail. He was no tenderfoot. He never asked a soft place for himself. He always played the game according to the rules and to a finish. To be sure, like every other man, he made some mistakes, but he was an Indian and never acted the coward.

The earliest stories told of his life and doings indicate the spirit of the man in that of the boy.

When he was only about three years old, the Blackfoot band of Sioux were on their usual roving hunt, following the buffalo while living their natural happy life upon the wonderful wide prairies of the Dakotas.

It was the way of every Sioux mother to adjust her household effects on such dogs and pack ponies as she could muster from day to day, often lending one or two to accommodate some other woman whose horse or dog had died, or perhaps had been among those stampeded and carried away by a raiding band of Crow warriors. On this particular occasion, the mother of our young Sioux brave, Matohinshda, or Bear-Shedding-His-Hair (Gall's childhood name), entrusted her boy to an old Eskimo pack dog, experienced and reliable, except perhaps when unduly excited or very thirsty.

On the day of removing camp the caravan made its morning march up the Powder River. Upon the wide table-land the women were busily digging teepsinna (an edible sweetish root, much used by them) as the moving village slowly progressed. As usual at such times, the trail was wide. An old jack rabbit had waited too long in hiding. Now, finding himself almost surrounded by the mighty plains people, he sprang up suddenly, his feathery ears conspicuously erect, a dangerous challenge to the dogs and the people.

A whoop went up. Every dog accepted the challenge. Forgotten were the bundles, the kits, even the babies they were drawing or carrying. The chase was on, and the screams of the women reechoed from the opposite cliffs of the Powder, mingled with the yelps of dogs and the neighing of horses. The hand of every man was against the daring warrior, the lone Jack, and the confusion was great.

When the fleeing one cleared the mass of his enemies, he emerged with a swiftness that commanded respect and gave promise of a determined chase. Behind him, his pursuers stretched out in a thin line, first the speedy, unburdened dogs and then the travois dogs headed by the old Eskimo with his precious freight. The youthful Gall was in a travois, a basket mounted on trailing poles and harnessed to the sides of the animal.

"Hey! hey! they are gaining on him!" a warrior shouted. At this juncture two of the canines had almost nabbed their furry prey by the back. But he was too cunning for them. He dropped instantly and sent both dogs over his head, rolling and spinning, then made another flight at right angles to the first. This gave the Eskimo a chance to cut the triangle. He gained fifty yards, but being heavily handicapped, two unladen dogs passed him. The same trick was repeated by the Jack, and this time he saved himself from instant death by a double loop and was now running directly toward the crowd, followed by a dozen or more dogs. He was losing speed, but likewise his pursuers were dropping off steadily. Only the sturdy Eskimo dog held to his even gait, and behind him in the frail travois leaned forward the little Matohinshda, nude save a breech clout, his left hand holding fast the convenient tail of his dog, the right grasping firmly one of the poles of the travois. His black eyes were bulging almost out of their sockets; his long hair flowed out behind like a stream of dark water.

The Jack now ran directly toward the howling spectators, but his marvelous speed and alertness were on the wane; while on the other hand his foremost pursuer, who had taken part in hundreds of similar events, had every confidence in his own endurance. Each leap brought him nearer, fiercer and more determined. The last effort of the Jack was to lose himself in the crowd, like a fish in muddy water; but the big dog made the one needed leap with unerring aim and his teeth flashed as he caught the rabbit in viselike jaws and held him limp in air, a victor!

The people rushed up to him as he laid the victim down, and foremost among them was the frantic mother of Matohinshda, or Gall. "Michinkshe! michinkshe!" (My son! my son!) she screamed as she drew near. The boy seemed to be none the worse for his experience. "Mother!" he cried, "my dog is brave: he got the rabbit!" She snatched him off the travois, but he struggled out of her arms to look upon his dog lovingly and admiringly. Old men and boys crowded about the hero of the day, the dog, and the thoughtful grandmother of Matohinshda unharnessed him and poured some water from a parfleche water bag into a basin. "Here, my grandson, give your friend something to drink."

"How, hechetu," pronounced an old warrior no longer in active service. "This may be only an accident, an ordinary affair; but such things sometimes indicate a career. The boy has had a wonderful ride. I prophesy that he will one day hold the attention of all the people with his doings."

This is the first remembered story of the famous chief, but other boyish exploits foretold the man he was destined to be. He fought many sham battles, some successful and others not; but he was always a fierce fighter and a good loser.

Once he was engaged in a battle with snowballs. There were probably nearly a hundred boys on each side, and the rule was that every fair hit made the receiver officially dead. He must not participate further but must remain just where he was struck.

Gall's side was fast losing, and the battle was growing hotter every minute when the youthful warrior worked toward an old water hole and took up his position there. His side was soon annihilated and there were eleven men left to fight him. He was pressed close in the wash-out, and as he dodged under cover before a volley of snowballs, there suddenly emerged in his stead a huge gray wolf. His opponents fled in every direction in superstitious terror, for they thought he had been transformed into the animal. To their astonishment he came out on the farther side and ran to the line of safety, a winner!

It happened that the wolf's den had been partly covered with snow so that no one had noticed it until the yells of the boys aroused the inmate, and he beat a hasty retreat. The boys always looked upon this incident as an omen.

Gall had an amiable disposition but was quick to resent insult or injustice. This sometimes involved him in difficulties, but he seldom fought without good cause and was popular with his associates. One of his characteristics was his ability to organize, and this was a large factor in his leadership when he became a man. He was tried in many ways, and never was known to hesitate when it was a question of physical courage and endurance. He entered the public service early in life, but not until he had proved himself competent and passed all tests.

When a mere boy, he was once scouting for game in midwinter, far from camp, and was overtaken by a three days' blizzard. He was forced to abandon his horse and lie under the snow for that length of time. He afterward said he was not particularly hungry; it was thirst and stiffness from which he suffered most. One reason the Indian so loved his horse or dog was that at such times the animal would stay by him like a brother. On this occasion Gall's pony was not more than a stone's throw away when the storm subsided, and the sun shone. There was a herd of buffalo in plain sight, and the young hunter was not long in procuring a meal.

This chief's contemporaries still recall his wrestling match with the equally powerful Cheyenne boy, Roman Nose, who afterward became a chief well known to American history. It was a custom of the northwestern Indians, when two friendly tribes camped together, to establish the physical and athletic supremacy of the youth of the respective camps.

The "Che-hoo-hoo" is a wrestling game in which there may be any number on a side, but the numbers are equal. All the boys of each camp are called together by a leader chosen for the purpose and draw themselves up in line of battle; then each at a given signal attacks his opponent.

In this memorable contest, Matohinshda, or Gall, was placed opposite Roman Nose. The whole people turned out as spectators of the struggle, and the battlefield was a plateau between the two camps, in the midst of picturesque Bad Lands. There were many athletic youths present, but these two were really the Apollos of the two tribes.

In this kind of sport, it is not allowed to strike with the hand, nor catch around the neck, nor kick, nor pull by the hair. One may break away and run a few yards to get a fresh start, or clinch, or catch as catch can. When a boy is thrown and held to the ground, he is counted out. If a boy has met his superior, he may drop to the ground to escape rough handling, but it is very seldom one gives up without a full trial of strength.

It seemed almost like a real battle, so great was the enthusiasm, as the shouts of sympathizers on both sides went up in a mighty chorus. At last, all were either conquerors or subdued except Gall and Roman Nose. The pair seemed equally matched. Both were stripped to the breech clout, now tugging like two young buffalo or elk in mating time, again writhing, and twisting like serpents. At times they fought like two wild stallions, straining every muscle of arms, legs, and back in the struggle. Every now and then one was lifted off his feet for a moment, but came down planted like a tree, and after swaying to and fro soon became rigid again.

All eyes were upon the champions. Finally, either by trick or main force, Gall laid the other sprawling upon the ground and held him fast for a minute, then released him and stood erect, panting, a master youth. Shout after shout went up on the Sioux side of the camp. The mother of Roman Nose came forward and threw a superbly worked buffalo robe over Gall, whose mother returned the compliment by covering the young Cheyenne with a handsome blanket.

Undoubtedly these early contests had their influence upon our hero's career. It was his habit to appear most opportunely in a crisis, and in a striking and dramatic manner to take command of the situation. The best-known example of this is his entrance on the scene of confusion when Reno surprised the Sioux on the Little Big Horn. Many of the excitable youths, almost unarmed, rushed madly and blindly to meet the intruder, and the scene might have unnerved even an experienced warrior. It was Gall, with not a garment upon his superb body, who on his black charger dashed ahead of the boys and faced them. He stopped them on the dry creek, while the bullets of Reno's men whistled about their ears.

"Hold hard, men! Steady, we are not ready yet! Wait for more guns, more horses, and the day is yours!"

They obeyed, and in a few minutes the signal to charge was given, and Reno retreated pell mell before the onset of the Sioux.

Sitting Bull had confidence in his men so long as Gall planned and directed the attack, whether against United States soldiers or the warriors of another tribe. He was a strategist, and able in a twinkling to note and seize upon an advantage. He was really the mainstay of Sitting Bull's effective last stand. He consistently upheld his people's right to their buffalo plains and believed that they should hold the government strictly to its agreements with them. When the treaty of 1868 was disregarded, he agreed with Sitting Bull in defending the last of their once vast domain, and after the Custer battle entered Canada with his chief. They hoped to bring their lost cause before the English government and were much disappointed when they were asked to return to the United States.

Gall finally reported at Fort Peck, Montana, in 1881, and brought half of the Hunkpapa band with him, whereupon he was soon followed by Sitting Bull himself. Although they had been promised by the United States commission who went to Canada to treat with them that they would not be punished if they returned, no sooner had Gall come down than a part of his people were attacked, and in the spring they were all brought to Fort Randall and held as military prisoners. From this point they were returned to Standing Rock agency.

When "Buffalo Bill" successfully launched his first show, he made every effort to secure both Sitting Bull and Gall for his leading attractions. The military was in complete accord with him in this, for they still had grave suspicions of these two leaders. While Sitting Bull reluctantly agreed, Gall haughtily said: "I am not an animal to be exhibited before the crowd," and retired to his teepee. His spirit was much worn, and he lost strength from that time on. That superb manhood dwindled, and in a few years he died. He was a real hero of a free and natural people, a type that is never to be seen again.

#History #Sioux

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kinos-fortress-2 · 3 months

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ok another headcanon and is from my ultimate comfort favs:

When demo got first hired by pauling he was like very shy and introverted at some point where everyone wasn’t like… that conjoined and besties as how they are now. And i feel like he got a pretty rough time to even start to talk with his teammates or get a tiny friendship with them.

And he often times was very threatened by small lady in glasses that liked to be strict with them in their first day since… it was business only ofc

but by the time when pauling got a bit more soft with them, and got also a bit friendly with demo i feel like at some point he started to develop a tiny crush with her since she was the one who often talks more with, and i have this other hc that also he would fell easily with people that befriends him (not like anyone of course it really does depends the person for him)

so you know pauling it’s nerdy and a bit sensitive (she cries very easily) and she is very friendly or a bit more extrovert if she gets to, but like in a sense where she is more ambivert too. uhhh idk she is just talkative with people if you get her chance where she’s not busy and will tell you to go to hell. rough lady

and he liked that! i think he thought they both shared some stuffs along and can infodump their love for guns and for the work they are in and then if they can go a bit personal with some drinks and he liked that he could share this stuffs with her all chill and cool

but i feel like he just had this side secret crush with her and stopped those want to be romantic feelings because he really saw she is not like, up to those stuffs, she is so focused on work and also stressed and depressed like him and he could just understand that she just only want someone to listen to her but she will not like, pay that much attention about romantic relationships and he could completely understand that once he get to know her more deeply. and he just couldn’t do that to the one who also considered a friend and he probably guessed she will not feel the same for him but that didn’t like hurt him and is not like he ever confessed to her. he just had those secret feelings for her for a time and then realized she was not really like the one for him to be in a relationship

and that’s where i thought of him now having a more soft spot for her and caring her like a sister (not like literally but in a familiar soft spot sense, but that’s ofc his friend)

so yeah idk 👍

#i don’t shipp them but just a character development thought ig idk i’m just stupid aha #i just care for them enough to invade my brain ok? ok. ok #i had one also with short fuse (demoengi)#where demo in his first days at work where nobody talks to each other and stuffs #and you know he is a very genius guy in also building his little stuffs his sticky bombs thing whatever the fuck you call those shits #and that called engie attention and he just got a bit closer to know about demo you know like #when you see a kid with pokémon cards and you like that and you go and talk to them about pokémon the entire recess? yeah like that #and that’s where demo started to develop a crush on engie because he talked to him about something they like for big long hours and yknow #engie might be a bit reserved in some personal stuffs but he can get friendly with anyone just bc he is a polite man good raised man #so that kindness in being so interested to talk to him just made demo FIUMP! get a bullet love in his little demo heart #i love building characters interactions sometimes ha #wrote all of this in class

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miraluking-respectfully · 9 months

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seeking out other people's posts about Koth is a game of russian roulette for me bc sometimes i get nice art and writing and excellent takes about a character i like and sometimes i have to step away and do deep-breathing exercises

#it's very deeply frustrating when i hear people venting about some of the issues i also have with the bad & offensive writing in his story #or his lack or any significant on-screen development #but then their solution to those issues boils down to ''they should've made him more of a yes-man like Lana or Theron!''#Koth liking Valkorian and not caring about us or our issues is...normal #it's normal. he grew up on a prosperous pro-Valk Zakuul. he was in the fucking military. and he has no idea who we are or what our deal is #Koth should have had a character arc bc He Should Have Had A Character Arc not because he was a big meanie or not immune to propaganda #AUGH #koth vortena #swtor

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brookheimer · 11 months

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okay. i need to rewatch the episode probably but i think my current feeling is that i like most of it a lot (rome, ken, the siblings not getting ceo, etc), think the tom ceo makes sense from a logical/character perspective but not sure how i feel about it from a broader more thematic lens (altho i'm leaning towards fine with it), and am very mixed on shiv's ending because i think it's well-conceived and meaningful from a broader thematic lens (shiv becomes her mother, the cycle always repeats, etc) but doesn't quite make sense to me from a logical/character one -- it could've worked, it could've worked brilliantly, but it was far too rushed and forced. it makes sense as an ending for shiv, but not her next step. i'm largely talking about her decision to return to tom, not her decision to vote against kendall (which i think should've been executed better and given more space but can understand given her character, mostly). i'm fine with it as an ending for shiv, but what i'm struggling to stomach is the way it played out -- it didn't feel like a choice the shiv we know would've made. it's an ending that makes sense thematically and for her character arc, but not a decision that makes sense for her character at present. that's kinda where i'm at right now

#long shiv post talking ab this upcoming lol #bc so far i haven't seen like any shiv takes i've actually agreed with #it's either entirely anti ending or pro ending #whereas like. to me the ending works as an ending for the character. it's tragic dark devastating but it works and works well #but shiv making that choice does not make sense for where she is right now. it was rushed writing that forced an ending on her #that would be a satisfying ending but not a satisfying character choice and thus NOT a super satisfying ending #could've been EXTREMELY satisfying. but shiv wasn't there yet. her fatal flaw is blowing up good situations when she feels she's being #disrespected -- she's respect > power when it comes down to it #even tho she thinks she wants power more she NEEDS respect and is unable to stay quiet or make the smart choice in the face of disrespect #or men thinking they're superior etcetcetc. so her making a choice that allots her power (wife of CEO) but is the singular least respecting #outcome imaginable (meekly returning to your husband who betrayed you and stole the job you've been fighting for your entire life right out #of your grasp alongside your closest ally/flirt guyfriend who tapped him to do it explicitly to fuck you over because you're a pregnant #woman and thus inferior to the man who inseminated you -- and EVERYONE KNOWS ALL OF THIS! everyone knows you're the daughter of #the previous CEO and on two separate instances were meant to be CEO and now the weak man you married publicly betrayed you TWICE #but you still meekly return to him and place your hand in his and have his baby like the good pawn you are...)#that does not make sense for shiv. if we saw some development on the power > respect front or had a few more scenes or episodes developing #shiv as someone who would choose to become her mother (powerful and rich yet a disrespected pawn) over literally anything else #given her fundamental fear of being disrespected than maybe this would've made sense. it could be a great meaningful devastating ending #but it's one that just does not track for shiv as we know her right now.#ok tags got long as always sorry LOL i'm gonna write a longer thing explaining my hashtag thoughts bc i haven't seen much i agreed w on thi #front yet oops. ok bye 4 now tee hee #succession #succession spoilers #casey shut the fuck up about shiv roy

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six-of-cringe · 1 year

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never thought i'd say it. not happy about gay sex

#look. some of it might not be as bad as it seems.#i don't have context or all the facts i haven't watched it yet #maybe this 'bathroom scene' is just a precursor for a later callback #but like. jesper had a one night stand or something with wylan and FUCKING FORGOT ABOUT HIM???#real cute real romantic. /s #the hypersexual bi man trope!! the unnecessary sexualization of queer relationships!!!!#like there's nothing wrong with stories about relationships like this! to me it's the fact that it's being applied to wesper!#a relationship which i enjoyed bc of the slower building of care and knowledge and trust and meaning and all that sap shit #these writers do not know how to show queer characters' sexualities without making them have sex.#jesper just forgot about the prince who fell into the wrong story dude i'm gonna be sick #of all the ways they could have written jesper and wylan's pre-SoC history........bruh #listen wesper might have been the least developed of the SoC relationships but holy shit it was better than this #jesper wylan get behind me sweethearts #idk how to describe why it feels so hurtful. it just feels like something has been taken from that story #shadow and bone netflix spoilers #sab spoilers #s&b spoilers #delete later #this isn't like SEX BAD GAY SEX BAD. it just has me going like. who are these guys. these are different guys.#they are doing strange things that the people they claim to be would not. this story has been altered in a way that makes me feel it less #if you enjoy it still fine. but for me it detracts.

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eric-the-bmo · 1 month

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every once in a while i take a step back and realize how fucked up Lovers Reversed is

#and I come back with a renewed hatred for Jeremiah #eric finally speaks #i still maintain the fact that i wish i had more time to develop leo's core character traits before i played him but oh well #i work with what i have and rn that's an impulsive and obsessive man who refuses to let go of his abusive ex #and he also just wont tell people shit about J huh whats up with that?#do you want all the knowledge about him to be yours? like some kinda special secret that is yours to keep? whats wrong with you #smthn smthn he's so used to j being there he has no idea what it would be like without him and thats rlly tragic actually considering...yk #oops i made a super fucked up man #oc rambling

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waywardsalt · 1 year

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thinking abt linebeck’s coat. something very alluring about it for some reason. so im just gonna ramble about it here instead of in the tags for once

you can probably start a fight between the people who think it’s a coat and people who think it’s a jacket but i think it’s a coat moving on

the character designs are interesting to look at due to the proportions and art style so it is hard to imagine how long his coat would be but i think it would go down to a bit above ankles because i think that’s good. it’s a bit more dramatic a bit more impressive(?) that way and would probably lead to problems tbh

based on some of the official art i imagine that the stripe at the bottom might’ve been a late addition since it’s missing in the bit of official art most used to represent linebeck. tbh linebeck is inconsistent in very tiny ways in the official art but that’s mostly if you’re gonna be nit-picky or bored enough to notice

his coat is so good it’s simple but very recognizable and stands out among the other character designs in ph and its just. yknow good character design

its also surprisingly good for headcanons and stuff and because i mostly take a lot of canon as suggestion i have a good handful of headcanons tagged specifically onto his coat (one of which is the length of it ig)

i like to imagine that he made it himself. i’ve seen stuff where people write linebeck as being able to fix link’s tunic when it gets torn and i feel like the logical extreme of that is that he made his own coat. i think that adds a layer of. importance to it? it’s unique it’s solely linebeck’s it’s tied to him because he made it with his own hands and maybe it can represent something about him that way?

i like to imagine that in addition to the normal pockets one the outside he’s got a whole lot of little pockets on the inside of the coat, like so many pockets that he hides little trinkets or tools or things he steals in either to keep or to take back to his ship for whatever reason. some of the pockets have little flaps of whatever they’re called that can be secured in place with a small button to keep stuff in

he’s got like pencils and a compass and little notes and tiny figurines and cool rocks and feathers and all kinds of little things he thought was worth keeping around and due to that his coat is uncomfortable sometimes but if he knows for certain he’s going to be busy doing stuff he’ll empty out all of the pockets and only leave the important stuff so that it’s lighter and less uncomfortable. link finds his coat lying around at some point and is caught so badly off-guard by how surprisingly heavy it is with all of the bullshit he keeps in all of his pockets

i also imagine he values it a lot, maybe to the point of being really possessive and protective of it, not letting link touch it and if it gets torn or stained he shuts down and has to fix it before he can move on to anything else, and if he can’t fix it at the time it leave him kind of overwhelmed or upset until he can fix it. he has a lot stocked-up materials specifically for his coat to avoid a situation where he has to go for while with his coat damaged

backing away from headcanon territory, his coat is just a cool bit of character design and has just been lodged in my mind for a while. its cool and never brought up within the game (obviously) and i guess a last little closing thought is that in the cutscene where oshus teleports link above linebeck it kinda looks like his coat moves when he tries to catch link and i think that’s cool

#afraid of clogging ph tag so ill just tag this as #linebeck #character development not hiding in the tags this time #salty talks #this is how i talk on discord but i fear initiating social interaction so heres this #im in some kind if weird denial ever since that last totk trailer bc i think ive been lowkey constantly overwhelmed ever since seeing it #ugh. i miss linebeck. totk scares me and so does the fact that i cant get myself to be as excited as everyone else seems to be able to be #typing this was painful bc i turned off my autocorrect on my phone a while back bc it fucking sucked and now its like #man i am bad at typing on a phone holy SHIT #coat post thinking about linebeck helps me feel good. also projection he’s my go-to for projection when like anything happens #i imagine his coat as like. a comfort item to some degree. like it’s something he made himself and he’s had it for a very long time #like i have a comfort item or two of my own so its like. yeah i get how it feels to worry about it getting damaged or lost #so within the bounds of my ideas linebeck cares about his coat in a similar manner he does his ship. hes autistic abt both of them #his scarf falls into this category too but that actually has more actual backstory about it bc i can’t be normal about anything about him #still talking in the tags. oh well. im going to snap #i have planned a 17 chapter linebeck backstory. this is not related to that but i feel like its worth just. mentioning #i could probably make his coat represent some aspect of his identity if i wanted. like. maybe its a representation of what he really wants #i keep the coat in most au designs but the two au designs that dont have the coat are where linebeck’s identity is a bit fucked

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