#but eventually I was proven that people are not usually horrible

[olive-fics]

An Old friend.

Synopsis: After not seeing Abby for nearly 5 years, she suddenly comes back into your life like it was nothing.

Men DNI, Mature readers only, reposts are especially welcomed!, Not proof read lol

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The notification on your phone was just another blip in the background of your busy life. Work, deadlines, and the relentless march of time had pushed a lot of things into the recesses of your memory — including Abby Anderson.

The relentless flow of people outside in the streets and sidewalks caught your eye as you watched from above in your little cubical. . Lost in your thoughts, you were startled by another notification, this time from a friend, Ellie Williams.

You had met Ellie back in middle school, both of you were little nerds obsessed with savage starlight and music so you two instantly clicked.

"Wanna grab drinks after work? It'll be fun, pus it's a small break from work for you."

of course.

"Idk. . Who else is going? You bringing your 3rd girlfriend of the month with or something?"

"haha Y/N. Just us tonight, maybe we can find you a little girlfriend.."

"Ellie be so fr rn."

"ok ok. but just saying, If there's a hot lesbian there, I'm giving her your number."

"I swear to god.."

The post-Abby relationship had proven to be more challenging than you initially thought. Since the breakup and her abrupt move away, you hadn't gone into any other serious relationships. Sure, you engaged in casual conversations with a few people, but nothing seemed to progress beyond the talking stage.

Your friend Ellie was quite the opposite of you. Ellie is a party enthusiast, a self-proclaimed player, and a lesbian with unapologetic masculine energy. You never really understood how you two clicked.

Waiting for the clock at work to finally strike 5, signaling the end of the day, you finally get to go home. With a sigh, you scanned your closet, hoping to find something not so eye catching, you're just there for some drinks with Ellie. Plus.

You're probably going to be the one needing to carry her home later..

.

Throwing on a simple pair of jeans and a white T-shirt with a small work logo on it, you head out to the bar.

Ellie: "Y/N! Look at youuu! Finally out of the house.." Y/N:"Yeah yeahh.." Ellie:"Come- I already bought us a drink- then lets go dance."

You sighed, the corners of your lips turning up in a laugh as you joined Ellie.

.

Ellie: "So , Y/N. What's been happening in your mysterious world lately?"

Y/N: "Oh, you know, the usual. Work, school, a bit of Netflix.."

Ellie: "Of course.. So, anyone special in your life these days?"

Y/N: "Not really, just the usual talking stages. And you, Ellie? Still breaking hearts?"

Ellie: "Ah, you know me too well." .

The night had carried on, a blur of clinking glasses, casual conversations, and a soundtrack of questionable music.

Eventually, Ellie had to use the restroom, leaving you left by the drinks alone.

Feeling the effects of the drinks, you couldn't help but feel the buzz that had settled in. It had been a while since you let loose and allowed yourself to be carried away by the intoxicating combination of alcohol, and Ellie's horrible dad jokes.

As you searched through the crowd to find Ellie after noticing she disappeared that's when you heard it.

CLANK!

Before you could react you felt a rough hand grab yours and pull you up gently. Startled, you looked up to meet the gaze of the person who had inadvertently collided with you. Their eyes, filled with concern, met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Why did she look so familiar..?

Suddenly snapping you out of your questioning they finally spoke.

"Are you okay?" they asked, their voice tinged with genuine worry.

Caught off guard you nodded, still processing the sudden turn of events. As you steadied yourself, you couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity that washed over you.

With a grateful smile, you huffed out a; "I'm fine, thank you. Just got a little lost in the crowd."

You then looked down at your shirt, it was stained red from the strawberry cocktail in her hands.

"Great.." you muttered under your breath, a mix of amusement and frustration.

"Let me buy you another drink to make up for it,"..

Caught in a moment of indecision, you looked up at the girl who had inadvertently stained your shirt.. Your thoughts shifted back to where you and Ellie had been seated for the night. You couldn't just leave Ellie, but the genuine offer of another drink lingered in the air, creating a little dilemma.

"Um, I appreciate the offer, really, but I'm actually here with a friend," you explained, trying to not seem rude.

The girl nodded understandingly, "No worries. I didn't mean to intrude on your night. If your friend is around, maybe we can all grab a drink together?"

You shrugged and nodded, why not?

She had noticed the stain worsening and quickly offered, "Could I at least help you wash that out? I'd hate to ruin your shirt completely..."

You looked down at the stain, and you couldn't deny it was pretty bad.

"Well, it's a unique fashion statement now, I guess,"

She laughed and gently took your hand. "Follow me."

You both went into the restrooms, you propped yourself on top of the sink. The girl then grabbed a Wad of paper towels and ran them under cold water to start blotting at your chest with them.

"Sorry again for the mess." she sighed and made eye contact with you, only to quickly look away.

Did she know something you didn't?..

.

Clearing your throat you looked down at her from the sink.

"It's really no worries.. It's an old shirt.."

"Still..You're all sticky now.."

"I think I've been through worse." You stifle a laugh and look away.

..

"So.. What's your name..?" She asked attempting to make small talk.

"Y/N."

"Right."

"Anyways..let me go buy you that drink."

"True."

You get off the counter and follow the girl back to the bar.

Eventually Ellie came back to her seat next to you.

"Oh? Y/N..Who's this? hmmmm?" She couldn't help but tease you.

"Oh please.. it's just a friend.."

"Right..Wait..what happened to your shirt?? I swear to god whoever did that to you I'll kick their ass-"

"It's okay.." You laughed and calmed Ellie's nerves.

"Accidents happen."

You look to the girl and laugh quietly. God you needed to go home.

..

"You seem on edge." Ellie called out as you two walked back to your apartment.

"Just..buzzed." You lied right to her. goodness.

"I know that's not all y/n."

"That girl was just.. really familiar. Did she seem that way to you too..?"

"Nope. You're just overthinking again."

"probably."

..

You made your way back to your apartment, eager to shed the stained shirt and uncomfortable jeans. As you undressed, something caught your attention in your pocket — a note with someone's number on it?

great.

Starting up a warm bath you add some bubbles and light a candle, you'll worry about the note later. You took off your bra and got into the bath tub scrolling on your phone to then look at the note sitting on your sink.

Fuck it.

"Hey, This the girl from the bar?" You wrote the text, you questioned if you even really wanted a reply.

Ping!

"hah! Yeah, it's me. wyd? :)"

"Taking a bath :p"

"Cute. Proof my love?"

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ok Ik this sucks but maybe I'll make a part 2..if that's something you guy's would like idk!! :)

[thrandilf]

Been thinking about Aaravos as usual and sensing his story may very well be a tragedy just because. From his point of view,

Dragon Prince is about breaking cycles and starting anew, but Aaravos has no chance of that. He’s witnessed every horrible thing in history from the destruction of Elarion to the present, and judging by his ability to predict the ways of the Sunfire Elves, nothing has really changed. Like, yes in S4 things are changing, and there are people who want to put themselves out there and mend things, but Aaravos doesn’t see that. Even if he did it may be too little too late

All he knows is centuries of injustices and it’s been compounded over 300 years of solitary confinement. Remembering. Rethinking. Over and over with no new information. He’s had no closure for anything he’s ever seen (although he does appreciate Avizandum being taken out, though it doesn’t change anything for him) and I think that the prospect of vengeance is all thats kept him from completely losing it

I think his original plan was to pit the dragons against each other. To him, they had all proven to be unreasonable, arrogant, and cruel. They could have killed each other over the struggle for power. Given the tempers of some of them, it wouldn’t have been that hard to just let the conflict spiral. Aaravos would appear innocent, still beloved, a natural choice for the next leader of Xadia in light of the tragic end of the dragons. Aaravos wants to be worshipped, Aaravos thinks he knows best, and this would be a way to do it without ever getting his hands dirty. To him, this would benefit everyone if he ran the world based off his ideals

Queen Aditi ruined this plan by stepping in and finding a peaceful solution the dragons would accept, so Aaravos took her out.

I should make it clear that yes, I do think that this makes him a villain/at best an anti-hero (and he’s my favorite character so I’m not here to bash) but now we’re faced with the Now What once he’s set free and like.

I don’t think he has a choice but to continue his conquest. If he can’t take the world by sitting innocently in the shadows, brute force it is. Even if he could heal, could forgive, could want to move on, could surrender and just ask “what can I do as long as it’s anything other than sitting in solitary” no one would let him. He’s keeping the cycle spinning because he’s so deep in it that he’s dragging anyone else he possibly can in with him, and if they listen to him as Claudia does, his accounts of history aren’t wrong.

Aaravos was imprisoned with the intention of letting him eventually die in there, sealed away forever. It’s the world’s most drawn out execution, and this is the way it was done because no one had the ability to directly confront him. He did terrible things which broke people’s trust in him forever. He’s been punished for them, but is there any end to it? How many years should have been enough? Is killing him the only answer? But he can’t be expected to just lay down his life after what he already feels was an unjust punishment.

Once he’s free, there’s nothing he could say or do to convince the elves and dragons that he just wants to live in peace, if he wished. There’s no way to be trustworthy or to redeem himself. He’s not allowed a change of heart even if he wanted it. He’s been branded an evil person and condemned until he dies. What else is he supposed to do but live it, or go into hiding? Why would he shut himself away when he thinks he’s right and thinks it’s up to him to fix the world?

It’s like when Claudia brought Viren back and Viren wanted to spend the rest of his days in peace, and she wouldn’t let him. She won’t let go.

Both Viren and Aaravos are so deeply intwined in this that even if they wanted to, they couldn’t get out (although Viren has more hope to than Aaravos does) It would be up to them to accept imprisonments/execution/ect if society agrees that what they’ve done is unforgivable, and so Viren is seeking Aaravos out of survival, and Aaravos will do whatever it is he’s been planning for years because it’s all he has left, and so despite the protagonist’s efforts to make peace, it’s not gonna happen

The change in the way Queen Janai handles justice makes me wonder if there is future hope/atonement for either of them. Perhaps they could be given a chance to help with building a better world. Perhaps they would be given a chance to break the cycle of violence. Perhaps they could do something productive with their gifts and fix things. It’s an interesting thought

[kunikidas-lost-glasses]

Soukoku with upset Chuuya

Thank you so much for your request anon! I hope you enjoy the drabble I've wrote for it.

Also if anyone saw this getting accidentally uploaded unfinished. No you didn't.

TWs: Slight mention of unhealthy drinking habits, mention of loss, crying, slight mention of feeling empty, very slight mention of relapsing

Probably ooc

Dazai and Chuuya live together in this. Can be read as Married!Soukoku but it doesn't have to be.

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

Usually Chuuya comes home from work much later than Dazai so when Dazai once came home to see Chuuyas' shoes standing already in the entrance he knew that something was off

Chuuya would never leave work earlier than usual if there wasn't something off.

Mori also wasn't the person to give people a day off so something must have happened and it made Dazai's heart wrenching with worry

After he entered their house, he called out the redheads' name, announcing that he's home but when no answer came, Dazai started to grow even more worried

He quickly looked through some of their rooms in order to find his partner and eventually found him lying on his back on the couch in their living with his hat on his face and still in his work clothes

If Chuuya was lying there like this was never a good sign. Usually if he was lying there like this, was mentally and physically exhausted too exhausted to change into more comfortable clothes and he usually tried to fall asleep with his hat on his face in order to sleep through whatever was bothering him.

After Dazai found his parter, he carefully approached him, asking Chuuya what happened to which the latter told him sharply that he should leave him alone

It wasn't unusual that Chuuya wanted to be left alone after a shitty day of work but the slight voice cracks and the fact that it sounded like Chuuya was close to crying alerted Dazai immediately so he just replied that he won't leave him alone like that

Chuuya also never left Dazai when he tried to send Chuuya away when he was feeling horrible. Chuuya would always stay by his side and they worked through it together and it wouldn't be any different the other way around.

After Dazai's reply, Chuuya just groaned so

After a short moment of silence in which Dazai tried to figure out what could have happened, he heard Chuuya sniffling and saw that the latter had his hands clenched into fists

As soon as he saw, he gently put his hand on Chuuya's fist and asked him if it was okay if he'd lift his hat

Chuuya just shook his head so Dazai sighed and sat down next to the couch, caressing the back of Chuuya's hand lightly

Dazai hated to see his partner like this and he hated not knowing what made him so upset. It pained him

Eventually Dazai asked Chuuya if something happened on the mission which he was supposed to lead

He knew that his partner had been horribly stressed since the last few weeks because he had the Responsibility to lead some new ones in a difficult mission. He had trained them sometimes and grew a bit closer to some after some time.

The mission had proven itself to be much more difficult than it was supposed to be, causing Chuuya to stay over hours at work

Upon hearing that question, Chuuya tensed up and shortly his crying quieted down which was enough of an answer for Dazai

He held Chuuyas' hand a bit tighter. He could imagine what had happened

After a moment, Chuuya told him that the mission had failed. The enemy had been too strong and not one of the new ones surviv

While he told his partner what happened, his voice failed him a few times and it was barley above a whisper

While he told him what happened, Dazai felt his heart sink and after Chuuya finished with talking he was fully crying now. He tried to hold it back but he failed miserably

Dazai knew his partner for long enough to know how much Chuuya was blaming himself at this moment and how much he must be grieving after the people. He had always been like this

Dazai quietly told him that he's sorry to hear

There was a short silence again in which Chuuyas' crying was the only sound being audible but then the redhead started to rant about how Mori should have never send them into that mission, that he himself should have done something and he ranted himself into rage about the whole situation, blaming himself and blaming Mori.

Dazai quietly listened and let him rant as much as he needed

He already expected Chuuya to have such an anger outburst and he knew from experience that it was the best to let Chuuya rant until all the anger quieted down

Eventually he stopped ranting and yelling but he was still crying and now much more than he was before

Chuuya managed to choke out a question, asking Dazai if he could tell him where he went wrong

Dazai softly told him, that he had done anything he could and that if anyone was to blame then Mori and not him.

Chuuya just replied that he could have gone to them to support them but Dazai reminded him that he literally couldn't since he hadn't been allowed to help. He had been ordered to stay at the HQ to lead from there, to help with paperwork and with other missions

He then asked Chuuya once more if he was allowed to lift the hat to see him and this time Chuuya weakly nodded so Dazai carefully lift the hat

Chuuyas' face was tear stained, his jaw was clenched and he looked at Dazai with so much pain, despair and helplessness that it hurt. It hurt him to see his partner like this oh so bad and truly wanted to take a trip to the headquarters of the port Mafia right now in order to pay Mori a visit

He gently wiped away Chuuyas' tears. He knew that there wasn't much to make the situation better but he could be there for Chuuya

All the other times Chuuya had been there for Dazai when he relapsed or broke down again and now Dazai wanted to be there for Chuuya even though he knew that he wasn't the best at comforting

They both weren't but oh well

Since he was squatting next to the couch, he could easily lie down his head against Chuuya's chest which he did eventually

He then told Chuuya that he knew that he didn't want to believe it right now but that it truly wasn't his fault

Chuuya just nodded and started to unconsciously started to play with Dazai's messy brown hair

They stayed like this for quite a while, Dazai listening to Chuuya's steady heartbeat and Chuuya staring holes into the air, completely lost in thought while playing with Dazai's hair but after some time, Dazai got up, telling Chuuya that he had to drink something and also asking him if there was anything he could do for him which earned him a small smile from his partner

Chuuya then told him that just him being there was currently enough even though he wouldn't mind if Dazai would bring him some wine right now making Dazai snort

Of course he wouldn't bring him wine right now, refusing to let him fall more into his unhealthy drinking habits again but he brought him a big glass of water instead which he placed on their small couch table before carefully helping Chuuya to sit up

After Chuuya sat up, he handed him the cup which Chuuya drank empty in a matter of seconds

After the thanked Dazai, he started to complain about the headache he now had from crying but even his complaints lacked emotions and spite. He looked worn out, his eyes were red and puffy, there were dark shadows under his eyes from all those nights where he stayed in his office at the port mafia and his hair was a mess.

He almost looked empty too and this was worrying Dazai more than anything. Chuuya wasn't the one to feel empty. He had always been an emotional person with a fiery personality and Dazai didn't wanted this get taken away from him

After sitting quietly together for a while in which Dazai held Chuuya's hand, caressing it, Dazai suddenly stood up, went to get his phone and called Mori, calling Chuuya in sick before the redhead could protest

It took him all of his willpower not to Tell Mori what was currently going through his head right now

It would have ended in a mess

After he ended the call, he shushed down Chuuya's complaints before picking the older up and carrying to their bedroom(which wasn't that easy for him considering his noodle arms), telling him that he had to take care of himself now or else the consequences would be fatal

Chuuya who was confused at first and tried to get out of Dazai's grip slumped down against Dazai's shoulder after hearing what Dazai said

He was well aware that he was currently wrecking himself up and deep down he knew that the idiot was right

After they arrived in their bedroom, Dazai carefully sat Chuuya down onto their bed before he went to their closet to get a pajama which he gave the other

He then told Chuuya that he would bring some more water to drink for him and since he knew that Chuuya had to eat something since he had been skipping some meals during work in the past few days but since he himself couldn't cook for shit, he asked Chuuya if it was alright if he ordered some take out while Chuuya changed his clothes

Chuuya agreed so while he was changing into his pajamas in their bedroom, Dazai went downstairs to order take out and to get a bottle of water as well as a new glass

When he entered their bedroom again, Chuuya was lying in their bed, curled up under their blankets and stared through the big window next to their bed

Dazai carefully sat down on their bed too and gently went through Chuuyas' messy hair, asking him how he felt to which Chuuya honestly answered that he felt like shit

Dazai nodded and then told him to wait a second since he wanted to change into his pyjamas too so that he could lie down with him. After all, he was still in his daily clothes which he wore for work

After he too changed into his pyjamas, he lied down next to Chuuya and held him close, caressing his back and burying his face into the others hair

Chuuya hugged Dazai too and clutched onto him as if his life would depend on him

They didn't need any words to understand each other. Dazai understood Chuuyas' silent ask to never leave him again and Chuuya understood Dazai's quiet ressurement that he would stay with him

Eventually the exhaustion from the last days crashed down onto Chuuya, making him basically pass out from tiredness

Dazai stayed awake, continuing to hold Chuuya close and keeping an eye on him, occasionally wiping a few strands of hair out of his partners face

When the take out arrived, Chuuya got woken up by the doorbell and he even managed to eat something despite saying that he had no appetite

Dazai kept praising him for eating and drinking and after Chuuya managed to eat a small meal, they lied down again, Dazai holding Chuuya close again until Chuuya dozed off again.

Dazai knew that they had to work through everything and that it would take a while until Chuuya felt better again but he would be there for him and he wouldn't leave his side, helping him through this

The whole evening he plotted murder against Mori too

The next morning he let Chuuya sleep in and made breakfast for both of them after calling in sick too. Of course Ranpo already knew again what happened and like that he had no troubles calling in sick without a trustworthy explanation

[rainbowsky]

Hi Rbs,This is not an ask. Just wanted to share few words with you. Dont publish this if you not wanted to.

(Its not pointed at only Accio like she mentioned in comments.I can see some bxgs with large followers started saying the same nowadays in twitter also).Really sorry if the ask created issue for you.

I always look for your POV when i get confusion in my turtle journey for almost 3 years now. Thanks a lot for that .I am glad you are clear in your point of view that-bad behavior is the issue, not the headbands/toys.

There is a saying-'If you want to kill a culture, kill their language'

Likewise I think its one of the way to turn turtles to solos slowly by changing their mindsets (like its a shame to show cpf stuff when one of them only present )-That means we need to show solo banners and considered solos in events/we will be voiceless in that events and our identity will be lose eventually.

This is in reference to a previous post.

Hi, Anon. Thanks, I'm glad that you find my blog helpful.😊

I'm going to respond to those two separate topics, here - the topic of fan colors, and the topic of anonymous asks/responses.

First of all, don't worry about any issues. If I want to avoid issues I can just ignore questions that are potentially controversial. I don't generally do that because I'm a believer in discussing things in a healthy way and sharing perspectives.

Fan colors

I feel pretty strongly about fans' right to exist, and their right to show support. All fans, regardless of fandom color. I think there is far too much polarization and conflict in the world. Live and let live.

Perhaps my perspective is overly idealistic, but I would vastly prefer a world where people would have higher standards for acceptance of other people rather than leaning on divisions and differences as an excuse for excluding and marginalizing each other.

It feels like there is often an agenda whenever an event like this happens, where certain uncharitably angled and edited clips of turtles supposedly behaving really horribly suddenly appear out of the woodwork, and this narrative starts to spread around turtledom and solo spaces that turtles are behaving badly and being disrespectful. This happens every single time there is an event like this where turtles dare to show their faces.

I respect that there are many turtles who will disagree with me on this, but as far as I'm concerned turtles are innocent unless proven guilty to me. I will always do my best not to malign or chastise turtles without having all of the facts and without being absolutely certain of what really happened.

If fans really are being disruptive, that is unacceptable. However, if they are not, if they are just having fun and supporting DD, I do not want to be among those who join solos in attacking them.

I hope we can remember as fans that a lot of the supposedly damning material we see about turtles in situations like this is anti material! We shouldn't be so ready to believe the hype about turtles being disruptive and bad.

Even in cases where a turtle might be behaving badly - there are usually dozens and dozens of turtles at events. Why are we so happy to condemn all turtles based on the behavior of one or two?

I don't buy the solo narrative of turtles being uncouth, of turtles not belonging, of turtles not having a right to show themselves publicly. I think everyone could benefit from a bit of perspective. This is fandom, it's supposed to be FUN. Excluding certain 'undesirable' people from sharing their enthusiasm and support - it's just such utter BS to me. I made it all pretty clear in this post.

I'm a turtle. That's it. That's all I have to say about it. I'm not a solo I will never be a solo. I will always love both of them, no matter what happens.

Turtles have a right to exist. Turtles have to a right to exist and be seen as existing. They're not under any obligation to crawl under a rock or pose as solos.

I firmly believe that GG and DD appreciate the support of turtles. They have behaved in ways that I believe support this theory. There's even a LRLG rumor that came out a while ago that said that "turtles give them strength". This is something that I have always believed. I believe the evidence supports it.

Therefore, who is anyone to say that BXG support should be withdrawn or covered under a blanket?

I will never jump on the bandwagon with solos to cut turtles down. Especially not without clear evidence turtles are behaving badly.

When turtles are behaving badly, or when I feel our fandom needs to pull our socks up and behave better I will always be among the first to say so. I'm sure people get sick of hearing it. But this isn't one of those cases, as far as I'm concerned.

And just to be really clear: this is my OPINION. There are totally valid contradictory opinions out there, and I fully respect everyone's right to disagree with me. We all must engage with fandom in the way that feels right for us, and I think it's extremely important for people to form their own values and perspectives on things based on what feels right for them.

That includes you, Anon. While I'm glad you find my perspective helpful, I hope you will form your own ideas about these topics. I am often wrong about things! 😅

Anon asks/responses

As for the comment about anons contacting me when they have something to say about something Vic posted, surely you can understand why it looked like that's what you were doing. Your phrasing was very similar to Vic's post. While there's nothing necessarily wrong with writing me about what you're thinking/feeling about stuff you've read outside my blog, it's worthwhile to understand why it can rub people the wrong way in some cases.

I think Vic had a good point, that if people have a reaction to what they read on Vic's blog, they should respond there.

As bloggers we stick our necks out when we put our positions out there every day. Everything we say and do is attributed to us, and we take all the backlash (and praise) of people's reactions. That's fine - that's what we signed up for - but I think sometimes readers lean too much being anonymous, in ways that sometimes feel a bit gratuitous. Just my two cents, but

anonymous should not be the default.

I get it that some people are shy, and no one is ever obligated to respond or interact openly if they do not feel comfortable doing so, but I really encourage everyone to respond off anon in the appropriate place whenever humanly possible.

I think it's important for everybody to remember that all of us are Anonymous, even bloggers. We're all hiding behind usernames. Nobody knows our real identities. Therefore, I hope people will try a little harder sometimes to just interact and engage directly with comments or questions in the notes of a post. Especially with simple, basic questions.

And especially with responses that aren't questions. My inbox is for questions.

You are free to ask anonymously of course, but I hope everyone will give it a second thought every now and then and consider going off anon. There are a lot of benefits to that.

Not least of which is that when you go off anon you begin to build a relationship with me, with other bloggers, and with other readers. You begin to become a more integrated, engaged part of the turtle community here.

If I don't know who is asking the question, I can't associate those interactions with anyone, and therefore you're losing an opportunity to make friends. You might feel like you heard from me, but that doesn't mean I have any clue who you are.

I've made some good friends through people who regularly asked questions in my inbox off anon.

HOWEVER, my anonymous inbox is not a place for people to ask questions aimed at bloggers who do not have anonymous asks turned on. And yes, people do regularly send me anon asks about Vic's posts, and other bloggers as well. You don't generally see them because I don't answer asks that I feel aren't for me.

If somebody has a question about a post another blogger has made, the appropriate place to ask that question is in the notes or comments of that blogger's post. Unless someone is asking me for my opinion on it, or unless there is some other direct connection to me, it doesn't belong in my inbox.

Anyway, this is not aimed at you Anon, I just want to address that because I think that Vic's point was a valid one.

Neither of us bite. I know sometimes I can be a bit blunt by some people's standards, but I do my best to respond in good faith to people who approach me in good faith.

No one ever needs fear messaging me privately or commenting on my posts or sending me asks off anon if they are doing so in good faith and in the spirit of friendliness.

And as someone who considers Vic a friend, and who I've known for years, I feel the same holds true. People are selling themselves short if they don't take the opportunity to spark a friendship by engaging with Vic's posts.

Edit: follow-up post here.

[alisterix]

@zitronenmilchmaedchen great tag! What have you done. Now I'll never shut up. This is for you and for everybody else who cares a lot about Cacofonix/Assurancetourix.

Justforkix/Goudurix (from Asterix and the Vikings) did! Though not in the movie (because it didn't have as much focus on Cacofonix) but in the comic book that the movie was based on, Asterix and the Normans. This volume has a special place in my heart for how much spotlight and appreciation Cacofonix received in it, so let's talk about it!

After Cacofonix attempted to sing and received the usual response from his fellows, Justforkix proceeded to compliment him, he even went as far as to tell him that he's wasting his talent in the village and that he'd make a great career in Lutetia!

The thought excited Cacofonix so much he kept bringing it up multiple times to Justforkix, who at that point was too scared by the Normans coming to Gaul to really pay any attention to the bard and his career. Eventually Cacofonix decided to take matters into his own hands and leave...

...at the worst possible time! He left unaware of the fact that the Normans had kidnapped Justforkix and refused to let him go unless there was another way to teach them the meaning of fear. The best way to strike fear into the Normans' souls was, of course, Cacofonix, though fetching the bard turned out to be more difficult than expected since he had to be chased down and persuaded to abandon his plans of prestige and fame.

He didn't hesitate one bit though once he learned that Justforkix was the one who needed his help. How could he not rush to his aid, the teen has been so kind to him and appreciative of him after all, unlike all those barbarians he's constantly surrounded with, with no appreciation for music! He happily returned, put one hell of a performance and reveled in well deserved praise for it. The goal was accomplished: the Normans learned to feel fear, Justforkix was safe, Cacofonix got to give his first real concert in front of a willing audience. He gets to be the hero that saves the day!

The satisfaction from it appeared to be enough for Cacofonix to not give any more thought to his previous career plans. He stayed and even got to participate in the banquet, instead of being tied up like usual, which I honestly love so much. His singing, though almost universally frowned upon, has proven helpful and worthy of respect. What a sweet and validating moment for my boy <3

The way Justforkix appreciated Cacofonix's singing is really endearing to me! Also gets me thinking. Is Cacofonix's music really, objectively terrible or has he just not found the right audience for himself? The way his fellow folks dismiss his singing as "not actual music, just horrible noise" vs Justforkix saying "whoa this is actually really good omg you're so underrated" reminds me of how you'd have fans of, let's say, death metal, music with lots of screaming ect, and then there are people who can't stand it and it's awful to them. Lmao I am delighted by the idea of Lutetian teenagers vibing really well with Cacofonix and his "edgy" music... and then their parents being like, ugh, kids these days, what even is this nonsense they are listening to. This awful bard has a terrible influence on our children xD

[spicedwatermel0n]

TW// S/H, BLOOD, BRUISING, AND IMPLIED ABUSE ON THE THIRD IMAGE, TALK OF ABUSE, ALCOHOL AND S/H IN SECOND PART OF THE CAPTION BELOW THE DRAWINGS.

I would also like to add that these are mostly headcanons that I've made for coping with my own trauma with the subjects. I make these headcanons for my own comfort knowing that I'm not alone when struggling, and for people who struggle with these things themselves who wish they could see their struggles portrayed in their favorite characters. I do NOT support acts of hurting oneself or others and if you're in a bad situation please get help if you can <33 these struggles can occur at ANY age. If you see signs of someone possibly hurting themselves, hurting others, or being hurt, no matter how young or old, tell someone who can help them get out of the situation.

I think they'd always be there for each other, even for small things like one of them being a little angry or one of them just having a bad day. They love each other, and feel comfortable enough around each other to let out their emotions freely without fear of being shamed. Wally likes to tell Hoagie that they're "battling this together", even if what is happening to Hoagie has nothing to do with Wally. He likes to compare it to fights with adult tyranny where he thought he'd lose but ended up winning in the end, and tells Hoagie that he just needs to keep fighting.

They both share similar struggles, both are abused and both have a tendency to hurt themselves on purpose when they feel strong negative emotions. Wally deals with his mother who lost her job recently and has taken to drinking alcoholic beverages to cope, which causes unnecessarily violent actions towards Wally and ONLY Wally, at completely unexpected points. She's normally very sweet and caring, but the alcohol messes with her and makes her feel as though she needs to punish her older son in more extreme ways. Wally has gotten used to the feeling of being hurt that he impulsively hurts himself constantly out of habit (typically with his nails, scissors, edges of tables, etc) or out of anger (banging his head, ripping his hair out, slapping his face, etc). Hoagie deals with the same issues, but they form much differently than they do for Wally. His grandma hurts him both mentally and physically, but instead of doing it when/where no one else can see like Wally's mom, she does it anywhere at any time in front of anyone. His mom is too afraid to confront her own mother, so he's forced to deal with her abuse (caused by dementia). Unfortunately, Hoagie grew up with unrestricted internet access and learned about unhealthy coping skills far too early in his life. He never showed an issue with keeping himself safe until Abby had a brief struggle with it a year prior to the show. She had picked it up from Cree, who encouraged her to hurt herself to make herself feel better. Of course, she realized how horrible it made her feel and the permanent damage it would cause and stopped doing it, and eventually got her sister to get help for it, but Hoagie began doing it afterwards because Abby had explained to him *why* people hurt themselves sometimes. He ended up with a habit of hurting himself very quickly, and even got to a point of addiction to hurting himself (that only lasted a week thankfully) where he would carry around a box cutter and just start hurting himself at any time and place if he felt the urge to. He's gotten much better about it thanks to support from his friends, but he still deals with occasional relapses.

The two are sticking together to try and keep the other safe. They both struggle with trusting people but they've grown so comfortable around each other that they can trust one another with almost no issue. That has proven very helpful for their recovery, as they both kinda just needed someone they can genuinely trust. They usually just watch Yipper together when they feel bad, it's their favorite thing to watch together lol... Besides romcom, which is more of Hoagies taste, but Wally still enjoys them because it makes Hoagie happy

[peacesmovingcabaret]

That’s not the issue. It’s not that amber was a woman and jd was a man. It’s the fact that he was disgustingly older than her, he dated a minor as a 25 year old full grown adult which is absolutely about power only, his ex said he got angry and violent quick, he admitted in court he called Vanessa paradis many horrible names bc there was physical photographic proof he couldnt deny, there was photos of the damage he did, his own team members admitted they lied bc he intimidated and paid them to lie in ambers person, these same people actually stood up for ambers side eventually, the jokes about raping her dead body was way before they got married which matters, amber does have injuries that were proven to be real if you looked them up or watched the court videos in full, he told Paul bettany that he “pounded and displayed ugly colors on amber”, he said things in recordings where he promised amber he’d get better and “try not to hurt her again” and to “leave him notes in the morning as a reminder to be nice to you”, (abusers always keep you in a cycle where you have hope they’ll change), and in texts to her mom she even said she loves him and wants him to change too, amber never abused her ex bc her ex came forward and said it was a misunderstanding (they’re not dating anymore so if amber was an abuser her ex wouldnt have to defend her), amber was the one that made excuses for jd bc she loved him despite the abuse he admitted in audio to doing to her, JDs emails to ambers therapist and psychiatrist talk about trying to keep her under control in his own words and he swore at them and showed unhinged behavior in the emails about wanting amber under his control, victims record arguments in relationships not abusers: check who did the 18 or whatever hours of recordings… amber was the one trying to call the police and her friends, Mr Murphy was a witness to ambers closet being destroyed, audios of amber saying he beat her up and he responded with “I made a mistake I won’t do it again”, in the audios amber is clearly arguing things we victims of abuse usually argue to our emotionally abusers: that’s about reminding n them to communicate issues, set boundaries VERBALIZE IT with each other on both ends (abusers don’t usually do it on their ends bc a common abuser trait is expecting ppl to read your mind and just know what you want), she argues he’s projecting again, amber also is honest about fighting back and the bad things she says sometimes but reminds him it starts with him, amber didn’t want cameras in court, depp did. Depp enjoyed and said before going to court that hed enjoy bringing her there, and victims don’t feel or think like that at all bc it’s traumatic for us. After countless arrests, convictions for rape and child rape, depp still defended rapist Roman Polanski in a 2010 interview. Jd is known to be friends with multiple men who have been called out on rape and domestic violence, had restraining orders set against them, their children accused them of abuse, and theyve admitted in text s to doing things of that nature, these men include: Brian Warner (accused by 6 ppl), nicolas cage, marlon Brando, josh homme. Ambers close friends I couldn’t find anything, but she came from an abusive home and usually you repeat what you’ve been through. Depp admitted in audio to being “irrational, crazy, jealous” in response to amber filming scenes. https://twitter.com/glossyinferno/status/1517232728755916800?s=20 that’s one of many fucking links. Just watch the full court hearing through and through without fucking skipping you fucking morons. And listen to the full audio recordings amber has which is like 18 or whatever amount of hours, but you have to listen to EVERY FUCKING SECOND you fucking MORONIC FUCK FACES.

Anon, please seek help.

[justcallmelenny]

It’s the fact that he was disgustingly older than her, he dated a minor as a 25 year old full grown adult which is absolutely about power only, his ex said he got angry and violent quick, he admitted in court he called Vanessa paradis many horrible names bc there was physical photographic proof he couldnt deny, there was photos of the damage he did, his own team members admitted they lied bc he intimidated and paid them to lie in ambers person, these same people actually stood up for ambers side eventually, the jokes about raping her dead body was way before they got married which matters, amber does have injuries that were proven to be real if you looked them up or watched the court videos in full, he told Paul bettany that he “pounded and displayed ugly colors on amber”, he said things in recordings where he promised amber he’d get better and “try not to hurt her again” and to “leave him notes in the morning as a reminder to be nice to you”, (abusers always keep you in a cycle where you have hope they’ll change), and in texts to her mom she even said she loves him and wants him to change too, amber never abused her ex bc her ex came forward and said it was a misunderstanding (they’re not dating anymore so if amber was an abuser her ex wouldnt have to defend her), amber was the one that made excuses for jd bc she loved him despite the abuse he admitted in audio to doing to her, JDs emails to ambers therapist and psychiatrist talk about trying to keep her under control in his own words and he swore at them and showed unhinged behavior in the emails about wanting amber under his control, victims record arguments in relationships not abusers: check who did the 18 or whatever hours of recordings… amber was the one trying to call the police and her friends, Mr Murphy was a witness to ambers closet being destroyed, audios of amber saying he beat her up and he responded with “I made a mistake I won’t do it again”, in the audios amber is clearly arguing things we victims of abuse usually argue to our emotionally abusers: that’s about reminding n them to communicate issues, set boundaries VERBALIZE IT with each other on both ends (abusers don’t usually do it on their ends bc a common abuser trait is expecting ppl to read your mind and just know what you want), she argues he’s projecting again, amber also is honest about fighting back and the bad things she says sometimes but reminds him it starts with him, amber didn’t want cameras in court, depp did. Depp enjoyed and said before going to court that hed enjoy bringing her there, and victims don’t feel or think like that at all bc it’s traumatic for us. After countless arrests, convictions for rape and child rape, depp still defended rapist Roman Polanski in a 2010 interview. Jd is known to be friends with multiple men who have been called out on rape and domestic violence, had restraining orders set against them, their children accused them of abuse, and theyve admitted in text s to doing things of that nature, these men include: Brian Warner (accused by 6 ppl), nicolas cage, marlon Brando, josh homme. Ambers close friends I couldn’t find anything, but she came from an abusive home and usually you repeat what you’ve been through. Depp admitted in audio to being “irrational, crazy, jealous” in response to amber filming scenes. https://twitter.com/glossyinferno/status/1517232728755916800?s=20 that’s one of many fucking links. Just watch the full court hearing through and through without fucking skipping. And listen to the full audio recordings amber has which is like 18 or whatever amount of hours, but you have to listen to EVERY FUCKING SECOND.

https://www.judiciary.uk/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/Judgment-FINAL.pdf

https://www.judiciary.uk/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/Judgment-FINAL.pdf

https://href.li/?https://64.media.tumblr.com/269e7de14fb10d628484389ed2f570ff/0261f688e62ded3b-02/s1280x1920/64692e390a5d19208382dcfee6d9d05a329df8e5.jpg

https://twitter.com/k4mil1aa/status/1541465480489185281?s=20&t=ZTGENROShUzd1ISGJ6A0bg

https://href.li/?https://old.reddit.com/r/Deuxmoi/comments/ul82xt/i_will_fck_her_burnt_corpse_johnny_depp_fans_are/

https://href.li/?https://www.reuters.com/world/us/johnny-depp-face-cross-examination-defamation-case-against-ex-wife-2022-04-21/

https://href.li/?https://pbs.twimg.com/media/FSAXJgDWUAA2Mo3?format=jpg&name=large

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DmUV0DQ9Jco

https://people.com/celebrity/johnny-depps-kicked-amber-heard-business-managers/

https://href.li/?https://www.judiciary.uk/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/Judgment-FINAL.pdf

https://href.li/?https://www.judiciary.uk/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/Judgment-FINAL.pdf

https://href.li/?https://www.judiciary.uk/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/Judgment-FINAL.pdf

https://okmagazine.com/p/johnny-depp-trial-amber-heard-arrested-violence-tasya-van-ree/

Mr Murphy agreed that he went to the apartment and cleared up the mess which could be seen in the photographs. (p. 82, paragraph 383)

If you’re too lazy to watch the trial full thing through without skipping a second here’s my gift to you: https://twitter.com/i/status/1541483048046194688

https://twitter.com/k4mil1aa/status/1541491246023094272?s=20&t=cjWofJeIegMgTOI-XzcZaA

Dr. Bonnie Jacobs, AH’s doctor (hearsay because the doctor didn’t actually witness the abuse in person as it happened and she told her doctor)

The color-correcting palette in question was used as a prop to give the jury an idea of what Amber would have used to cover up her bruising. Amber's team had removed the label to avoid brand association and have never alleged to her using that specific product or brand. Amber's makeup artist testified to using Clé de Peau to cover her bruises, a Japanese luxury beauty brand.

Color corrector palette came out 2016 not 2017 like rumors said, but it was never stated she used these products.https://www.glamourmagazine.co.uk/gallery/how-to-colour-correct-best-correcting-kits

https://twitter.com/k4mil1aa/status/1541465506380521473?s=20&t=cjWofJeIegMgTOI-XzcZaA

https://twitter.com/k4mil1aa/status/1541470950721572866?s=20&t=cjWofJeIegMgTOI-XzcZaA

https://twitter.com/k4mil1aa/status/1541487538832961536?s=20&t=cjWofJeIegMgTOI-XzcZaA

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/johnny-depp-amber-heard-recordings-shouting-b2064973.html

https://twitter.com/IvanaE/status/1341517643178717190?s=20&t=5yJAv7jWlbb-Jynf08DPzQ

https://twitter.com/IvanaE/status/1341517645322067968?s=20&t=5yJAv7jWlbb-Jynf08DPzQ

Defended roan. Polanski who was convicted on multiple rape charges already by 2010 when the interview took place:

https://href.li/?https://www.digitalspy.com/showbiz/a200464/johnny-depp-defends-roman-polanski/

Depp was arrested in 1989 for assaulting a security guard after the police were called to end a loud party at his hotel room.

He was also arrested in New York City in 1994 after damaging a hotel room he was staying in with Kate Moss.

Depp brawling with the paparazzi.

In 2018, Depp assaulted a crew member on the set of City of Lies.

In 2018, two of Depp’s former bodyguards sued him for unpaid fees and unsafe working conditions. The suit was settled in 2019.

Depp was constantly late and drunk on the set of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Depp will also supposedly receive his full salary for the third Fantastic Beasts movie, despite filming only one scene for it and being asked to leave the project.

Heard sought a restraining order from Depp in 2016. She also sought an order requiring Depp to attend 52 weeks of anger management courses. (page 19, Judiciary Judgements) AND HERE ARE THE LINKS BELOW:

https://href.li/?https://www.upi.com/Archives/1989/03/09/Teen-heart-throb-Johnny-Depp-who-plays-an-undercover-policeman/8389605422800/

https://href.li/?https://web.archive.org/web/20170510082221/http://www.nytimes.com/1994/09/14/style/chronicle-236659.html

https://href.li/?http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/269156.stm

https://href.li/?https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-44778997

https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.eonline.com%2Fnews%2F1003064%2Fjohnny-depp-quietly-settles-lawsuit-with-former-bodyguards&t=Y2Y5NjJhY2VlYmM3ZDBhMDFhM2FhY2VkYTM2YjQ0NzRmMzVkYzI3MiwyMzRhYzdlZGY5NDVjZWRhYzhiYWMwZTc4YzFkOGQ0MDQ5MmIyZWRk&ts=1652190874

https://href.li/?https://www.businessinsider.com/johnny-depp-pirates-movie-set-crisis-2017-5?r=US&IR=T

https://href.li/?https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2020/12/johnny-depp-fantastic-beasts-salary#:~:text=executives.,from%20the%20project%20last%20month.

I’m not linking it but you can easily find the full uncut audios of ambers recordings online like YouTube for example; they are of these time lengths (minutes/hours/whatever): 36:53 (3/?/2015), 4:25:11 Toronto (9/12/2015), 4:21:21 accountability, 53:58, 5:30:24 mockery, 2:05:25 issacs 9/?/2015, 31:25 phone call 2016, 24:42 divorce TRO 2016, 2:02:09 deposition 2016

Yeah but he's captain jack sparrow

[jasperlion]

[ just thoughts about the subject of class in SoV and shit like that.

I was thinking about the attitude of nobility in SoV (which is truer to the attitudes at the time than games in the series who center around nobles who have always been nobles) and the like, how commoners are basically second class citizens in their minds and it's perfectly fine to slaughter or abuse them if it's convenient to do so.

I thought about Fernand's situation and how it's framed loosely, but even then you get a pretty good idea of why it happened — the commoners under his family's charge were starving from the famine, saw said family still feasting as usual, and a riot ensued that turned violent. A tragic situation, but I think more so to the commoners who were driven to such extremes than the family that feasted while the people who worked the withering fields died.

I think about people who try to uphold Fernand as a tragic figure who is right to hate commoners after what happened, and then wonder if they realize he's meant to be a mirror to the kids of Ram who almost suffered the reverse. And that while they let that color their caution around Lukas, they wouldn't treat him as a suspicious figure forever once he had proven he wasn't like Slayde and his gang. They didn't ostrazise Clair despite her sheltered upbringing making her put her foot in her mouth (hell, she even advocates for them). That theme of how the past can shape you but how you respond to the future is what defines you.

How Clive certainly tries and fails to be welcoming to commoners. Fails so hard he is bleeding volunteers for the cause before Alm arrives. And I guess it's not helped that he keeps a man close who treats them all with disdain and suspicion and hate over something none of them had a part of. Over something that his family ended up causing in the end, because riots take a LOT to start especially in a place like Zofia where people are just used to nobles taking what they want because the land would provide more (and it wasn't, yet the nobles kept acting like it would). It all rolls back to that mindset nobles have, of that thought that it's fine because the commoners are expandable and you can just let some starve out. Surely more will be born to replace them eventually. It's no mistake that Berkut (and Fernand) think of commoners as sheep and nobles as wolves, not shepherds. I don't think they'd bat an eye if Slayde and his gang came back and were like teehee sorry some kids got bratty so we got rid of them.' Maybe some sterner looks from people who don't actually see commoners as less human, but like... that's probably around it lol.

Anyway something something it's in the text that Fernand has always been in the wrong, in both outlook and how he treated others as a result of what happened to his family. If you think even a little bit about the context of the power dynamics it's pretty damn clear that this was a disaster of their own making. Maybe out of not knowing how to handle a situation that had never happened before (famine) and deciding to pretend nothing was happening until too many bodies outside of their nice warm keep fell to the floor, but it's not really an excuse as much as it is an explanation. A shitty one at that, borne out of this idea that these people were lesser and didn't deserve consideration. There's a lot to say about it and how it ties into some of the themes in the game (even if some were handled horribly due to it being a remake, like Alm having to be a secret noble undermining some of the message), and it's a discussion worth having, but y'know sometimes it's hard to navigate it when people are dead set to think Fernand's situation tragic to HIM alone. These things don't just happen. Idk where I'm going with this other than uh. hee hee]

[twistedkans]

How TWST Characters Would Play KanJam

→ What is “KanJam”?: Kan Jam (sometimes spelled kanjam, KanJam, or Kan-Jam) is a flying disc game, played with a flying disc and two cans into which players deflect the disc. Teams of two players take turns tossing a disc between two plastic cans, scoring points if the disc hits or is deflected into one of the cans. The game is played to a target score of exactly 21, but a team can also win if a player throws the disc through the slot or top of a can without the help of their teammate. (taken from Wikipedia).

→ Points in KanJam: “Dinger” when the disc hits the side of the can with assistance from the deflector (one point), “Deuce” when the disc hits the side of the can without assistance from the deflector (two points), “Bucket” when the disc is deflected into the top or slot of the can, “Chog” when the disc goes through the top or slot of the can without assistance from the deflector.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of non-descriptive violence Characters: all NRC students Word Count: 1.2k

(A/N: We used a spinner wheel to decide these teams, so if they seem odd choices, that's the whole point! - 🪞)

Cater and Rook

It’s scary how fast Rook can throw a frisbee. 

He is also very precise! He’s a motherfucking hunter, afterall. GREAT. IMPECCABLE. AIM.

Cater doesn’t do his job of deflecting half of the time because he’s too busy taking pics to post on Magicam. It doesn’t matter since Rook can score really well without his assistance. 

But if Cater gave it a shot, he wouldn’t be half bad at it!

You would think there is only one way to throw a frisbee. You would be wrong, as proven by Rook's unique way(s) of throwing a frisbee.

They aren’t really good at teamwork, more good individually, and would probably complain to their friends when the whole thing is over.

Rook carries the team 100% of the time.

Ace and Riddle

Riddle is so fucking petty because Ace is so much better at KanJam than he is.

The frisbee just kind of flops weirdly in the air. Riddle just gets really frustrated, and Ace laughs his ass off. Ace is also weirdly precise with how he aims?? How is he this OP??

Horrible teammates, though quite entertaining to watch. You can bet their interactions will be posted all over Magicam (courtesy of Cater) and Ace will be spending the next few days with a collar, regretting his life decisions up to that point.

Epel and Kalim

Epel needs to learn a bit of self restraint or else he may hit Kalim in the head a little too hard.

Epel thinks of this tournament as a chance to show others how manly he is. It fails, due to how bad he is at the game.

They both suck, Kalim can’t throw the frisbee far enough and Epel can only throw it too far.

Both really try their best, I will give them that. They are a joy to watch! Eventually, with enough practice, they will improve but for now, it is what it is.

Floyd and Sebek

Things get violent, and they get violent quickly.

Floyd does purposely hit people with the discs, including Sebek (especially Sebek).

Floyd would get them kicked out. Sent to the headmaster. And imminently, restricted from playing this game ever again. But… this is Coach Vargas we are talking about. He admires the spunk and ‘effort’ that these two give this game! But eventually, it gets to the point where the other staff have to intervene and the two get kicked out of the premises.

Chances are Floyd managed to convince his brother to give him his spot, only to immediately be kicked out again after throwing a frisbee at his opponent and breaking their nose.

Sebek is just mad he didn’t get paired up with Malleus.

Silver and Jamil

Silver falls asleep once or twice, and that just so happens to be when Jamil gets a chog.

Jamil is the one getting hit with the frisbee a LOT. He got the bad end of the stick when it came to this one (as usual…). Kalim has labeled him ‘The Frisbee Magnet.’

They work well together, mainly due to their natural chemistry. They both manage to keep a level head, even if it’s more due to mutual exhaustion than focus.

Jamil is always the one to initiate practice sessions, and essentially coaches Silver as he betters himself. He’s also got a bit of a competitive streak.

Vil and Idia

Neither of them are really trying?? Vil is kind of trying (too busy filing his nails to be doing this shit) and Idia lacks the skill and stamina. But both would be good at it if they actually gave a shit.

Let’s be honest, the only time Vil is trying is when they’re going up against Neige.

Idia has played KanJam before…online, and he was very good at it. Apparently those skills don’t apply to real life.

“Watching them play is positively boring,” says Headmaster Crowley.  (Not enjoyable at all, would not recommend.)

Idia fears the frisbee.

The closest they get to teamwork is Vil bossing Idia around. Not that Idia listens on most occasions, but he does sometimes do what Vil says if only to shut him up.

Vil will be giving Idia quite a few “tips'' on bettering his appearance. The more time he spends around Idia, however, the more passive aggressive said tips will become.

Idia gives Vil a few tips of his own - mostly about gaming, which Vil doesn’t do - but both tip-givers and receivers go in one ear and out the other. 

Jack and Ortho

These guys are so cute and wholesome, definitely gonna be practicing and doing their best and lifting each other up.

Once it is announced they will be competitively playing KanJam, Jack dedicates his entire life (workout) to the sport.

Ortho is going to be hit by a fast-flying frisbee, he will malfunction, and it will (most likely) be Epel or Floyd's fault.

Other than Ortho malfunctioning, he is actually pretty decent at the game and the both of them work great together. An absolute ideal team!

Trey and Jade

Jade is very calculative on how he aims and the position of the can. When another team is aiming, he ‘subtly’ nudges the can over so they can win.

Trey isn’t really competitive at this, nor really good at aiming the frisbee, but he’s decent at it and tries his best. 10/10 work ethic.

Great teammates, despite many of their differences, they work really well together. Aka Jade is good at throwing and Trey is good (enough) at deflecting.

Azul and Lilia

Given the fact that Azul very much sucks at all things PE related, he wouldn’t be very good at KanJam. As soon as Coach Vargas uttered the word KanJam, he was already shaking in his timmies. Much like Deuce, but very much worse. Also accidentally hits people. Lilia at least tries to help him up and encourage him…

Lilia doesn't know where that frisbee is going and neither do I. Probably ends up on the ceiling and he refuses to get it back because it’s too funny.

Not great teammates, simply because they both function independently. After all, Azul would never ask for Lilia's help, and Lilia is too busy trying to find that frisbee he threw a few hours ago to bother with teamwork.

Ruggie and Deuce

Ruggie is oddly amazing at KanJam, but Deuce significantly sucks ass. He trips. He falls. And he always ends up planted face down on the floor. Ruggie makes fun of him.

Deuce does have a strong arm though, maybe a bit too strong, and oh if only he could aim.

They work surprisingly well together once they get past their differences and Deuce starts taking them out to lunch after practice (his treat).

Deuce gets thrown off guard whenever someone yells “deuce!” in reference to the points they just got. Poor guy sharing his name with a KanJam move.

Malleus and Leona

Would bicker the whole time. Show off, and would definitely gain a crowd of people. 

If it were a competition with a single team as the winner, they would’ve won that spot if they didn’t work so horrible together.

Leona's gonna think it’s stupid until he loses his first match, then there’s hell to pay.

No matter how well they do, you can bet Leona will be chewing Malleus out for the littlest of things. In return, Malleus will point out every little thing Leona could have done better, and the end result may potentially be them getting kicked out (right behind Floyd and Sebek).

[scentedchildnacho]

No i haven't seen a homeless person take aggression or special forces against police ...that's not my experience at all....its more jobs...if people will stare at homeless people and say their going to fuck them over then it's more jobs that figure out how to kill off anywhere homeless people have to go....jail is more sane sometimes then domestic abuse or street conflict so...to me the riots are about territorialism not poverty

I guess in Las Cruces the affluent privilege of sports males I guess get so humiliating that they request helter skelter tactics

Africans also about white scares need to really control my menses so

Homelessness still spawns eco terrorists the police to us I don't know the confederate or union general try to batter us into enlistment....and eventually people break a peaceful sit in into if you won't get away from me...so maybe there is an eco aspect to the riots but if you ask me that is all more developed then homelessness

If it's just battery that is our military...if they were truly foreign I would be dead ...

Burning...its elderly people's buildings so the owner finally burned something ....

How many times does a gross bitch job have to try to put you in their jail cell before you line it up and force it to understand it's abortion rights

You can have a couple but they get taken away and you better be depressed enough to not shit out kids out of a butt fuck chick body off my poverty

The job wouldn't stop hitting me so it can date a beaux I was targeted with and after it dated it it can take my pill also it couldn't be compassionate to me and now has to realize there are not choices to sanctions

That's California your guilty to it till proven innocent and when stagflation is beat up bad enough into my experience it will be friendly

The police may be were going to be sent somewhere suicidal so draft men into their situation...the police get fired that way and the rioters become re enforcements

Suni about Africans told me I would have to go to France for non hatred otherwise I think that football rape in Las cruces asked for us to finally be sterilized

People like me ask for realistic intelligence about African or black crime....I'm not someone educated well enough to ask for intense action...or direct conduct but the humor and acceptance or dark criminality is very obscene lewd and shockingly violent

Military interviews that house is the pedophiles there are the murderers.....I mean if people could look into deportation and how expensive the common recidivist black criminal is I might ask people to be intolerant of living with so little to give so much to people who call themselves God to you ...

So the police are condemned to the jail so they go out and keep intimidating people till they ruin their own stuff and are forced into police jobs ..

Strong arm and bully and remind that they left them in the jail and they can't help it

San Diego is a really horrible conflict drones over head till you feel like God is crushing your Satan head and reeks of burning rubber and constant torture by sound tools .....so I asked the security if he was from San Diego and if he knew how long this constant sound bomb cruelty and conflict can go on for and he asked if I was from the country so I said no I've lived in many large metropolis and never seen any conflict this cruel and overt usually secret secret police ..

Is it Todd Gloria lives everywhere as a multiple is that the mass murderer

Kind of hells angels they wouldn't know chaos was a good mechanic and she could just stop helping and constant brake squeak bombs kills a lot of it of baby assault

She thought it was residential here so I thought no mayhem....mayhem can rig residential property to business standards some people go hunt and fish and leave their property on eBay automatic pilot then show up on occasion to do the shipping.....people who use to live in areas like this were reefer crackheads and people intimidated that badly for drug trafficking rig their own stuff for demolition because the enemy could have a base of survival the heroin czar is a very very scary thing

They were crackheads and when people run you into an electric fence people break into the robot in their tooth it's they don't want to be scared no more

They tried to call these rural marijuana settlements women's shelter and those people didn't want to leave their homes....

They rig it to kill police who could try to territorialize there and the police tell them if you try to kill the bottom of the pyramid they will put us in there and kill off the drug epidemic

So it's if they start using friendly tactics then women shoved somewhere to die as bottom of the drug pyramid then learn to not be above mafia and they call things like the IRA and the IRA pulls to rioters what they pull to people randomly hit them with cars call them a guy etc...

Warsaw ghetto basis of everything...then elderly women in Ruidoso some of that I think was very unwanted about aging and sexuality and elderly people Surprise people about it's not theirs so really not yours

The japaneese told to leave then Todd Gloria lives everywhere and is everything so....I think it is eve ill...gangs white did what it does but all day sound bombs is pearl harbor like

When people keep going and going and going at you with suicide bombers that's suribachi like

But gangs is just eve ill and pho photons is worse then eve ill gangs is just naive....Todd Gloria has drones flying regularly over

Police people who killed the Messiah were baltics though....whites do more just get in people's face

[pet-genius]

A complex and many-layered thing

But Harry’s anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let go of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs. . . .

This is the first Occlumency lesson. Harry is right, of course. Feelings don’t go away because you want them to. To let go of them when they’ve not been addressed or validated can be as hard as detaching a leg. And yet, it’s what Dumbledore asked Snape to do, and it’s what Snape had to do to survive the first war as Dumbledore’s spy. You have to ask yourself… how?

Trapped animals chew off their own legs to escape. It’s a sacrifice they make to survive.

If there’s one thing in a fic that turns me off it, it’s the idea that Occlumency shields are a thing, that Severus was so gifted at it because he’s got some power like Second Sight or being a metamorphagus. I always preferred to think of Occlumency and Legilimency as skills that can be learned, even if some have more aptitude for it than others.

Severus entered Hogwarts with the kind of life experience that primed him for developing these skills, and left it with even more. Occlumency is magical dissociation, a post-traumatic coping mechanism, and Severus has C/PTSD. More under the cut; tw: just general angst.

To survive, he would have had to develop a knack for telling how explosive and unpredictable people feel. Over his life, he faced at least two egregious examples of what Pete Walker, author of “Complex PTSD” calls “the Charming Bully”.

Especially devolved fight types can become sociopathic. Sociopathy can range along a continuum that stretches from corrupt politician to vicious criminal. A particularly nasty sociopath, who I call the charming bully, probably falls somewhere around the middle of this continuum. The charming bully behaves in a friendly manner some of the time. He can even occasionally listen and be helpful in small amounts, but he still uses his contempt to overpower and control others. This type typically relies on scapegoats for the dumping of his vitriol. These unfortunate scapegoats are typically weaker than him. […] He generally spares his favorites from this behavior, unless they get out of line. If the charming bully is charismatic enough, those close to him will often fail to register the unconscionable meanness of his scapegoating. The bully’s favorites often slip into denial, relieved that they are not the target. Especially charismatic bullies may even be admired and seen as great.

These would be James Potter and Tom Riddle, who are distantly related, I might add. Harry inherited the tendency to default to the fight response, but since he grew up the scapegoat and not the golden child, he never becomes quite as appalling, and after all, a fight response is normal when they are after you. Even so, Harry, who has both James and Voldemort inside him, triggers Severus to no end. It’s not a coincidence that the memories Harry sees when he is with him are largely horrible, and vice versa. There had to be happy or at least neutral or even boring moments, but these two detest each other, and they know they detest each other. Negative emotions and associated memories are so close to the surface they can’t be contained. This is the purpose of the Pensieve in this context - to contain the emotions. Since Severus knew what was in there when he pulled Harry out, my theory is that you don’t suddenly forget the memories you placed there, but rather you make them less fraught with emotions.

“Get up!” said Snape sharply. “Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort, you are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!”

Harry stood up again, his heart thumping wildly as though he had really just seen Cedric dead in the graveyard. Snape looked paler than usual, and angrier, though not nearly as angry as Harry was. “I — am — making — an — effort,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I told you to empty yourself of emotion!”

“Yeah? Well, I’m finding that hard at the moment,” Harry snarled.

“Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!” said Snape savagely. “Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily — weak people, in other words — they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!”

A lot to unpack here.

“Memories you fear,” “weapons”, “easy prey”.

Fearing your own memories, viewing your own lived experiences as weapons to be used against you, being easy prey… Severus could not be speaking louder of himself here. He is the one whose mind had been penetrated with absurd ease, he is the one who handed weapons to Voldemort, and he is the one who had to do the psychological equivalent of detaching his own leg – again and again – to survive.

I’ll argue that Severus developed a fawn response and a flight response, as fighting had never really worked out for him if it was possible at all. He had at least two more people I’d describe as bullies in his life, Tobias and Lucius.

Again from Pete Walker:

These [fawn] response patterns are so deeply set in the psyche, that as adults, many codependents automatically respond to threat like dogs, symbolically rolling over on their backs, wagging their tails, hoping for a little mercy and an occasional scrap. Webster’s second entry for fawn is: “to show friendliness by licking hands, wagging its tail, etc.: said of a dog.” I find it tragic that some codependents are as loyal as dogs to even the worst “masters”.

Remember what Sirius called him? Lucius’s lapdog. Bellatrix called him Dumbledore’s pet, Dumbledore said he dangles on Voldemort’s arm, the narrative compares Snape to a rabbit in SWM and Harry compares the Half Blood Prince to a beloved pet who had gone feral (yes, this does mean a lot to me on a personal level, yes my username is not a coincidence).

His unconscious fawn response might have been his undoing, drawn as he was to figures like Lucius and Voldemort. As an adult, I think he utilized the skills he had developed to survive in order to stitch these people up, and involuntary dissociation and fawning became Occlumency, which to me, is his signature magic. Harry needed only to banish Voldemort from his mind; Severus could not settle for this. He had to give Voldemort something, and knowing how to fawn meant knowing what to give him and how to draw himself in such a light that Voldemort would believe it. We see how he wanted to be seen by the Death Eaters: a self-serving coward who sought to hide behind Dumbledore’s apron, playing his pet. But that’s Pettigrew, not Snape. Imagine the self-immolation, the self-violation, it must have taken to convince everyone that you’re an ersatz Wormtail! Snape is a man and a prince, and the text recognizes this as Harry calls him, in the end, Dumbledore’s man, the bravest man, and as that chapter is called “The Prince’s Tale”. Voldemort thought Snape was nothing more than a “good and faithful servant,” and that his last words were “My Lord”.

But Severus had an unequaled gift for Occlumency, specifically against Voldemort, because Voldemort could not legilimens what he couldn’t feel; and he couldn’t feel love, grief, guilt, and remorse. This was Severus’s secret weapon, which would not have worked against Harry - who can feel these things, and who is also Lily’s son. I can prove it. The first time Harry gets the hang of Occlumency is after Dobby dies:

His scar burned, but he was master of the pain; he felt it, yet was apart from it. He had learned control at last, learned to shut his mind to Voldemort, the very thing Dumbledore had wanted him to learn from Snape. Just as Voldemort had not been able to possess Harry while Harry was consumed with grief for Sirius, so his thoughts could not penetrate Harry now, while he mourned Dobby. Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out . . . though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love. . . .

Harry learned to dissociate, though fortunately in a healthier way than many of us ever get to.

Of course, Snape was a good and faithful servant… to Dumbledore, which brings us to the flight response. The chapter wherein he escapes after killing Dumbledore is called “Flight of the Prince”. He should be fighting, he had just proven that he can cast a killing curse, and yet he flees. He can literally fly, in fact: He, Lily, and Voldemort are the only ones we see pulling this off.

As a child, we see this too: He copes with his home situation by reminding himself “it won’t be long and I’ll be gone.” He is thrilled when he imagines Hogwarts, his escape; he follows Lily out of the carriage instead of confronting James and Sirius head-on (which might have saved them all a lot of pain eventually). But this doesn’t work out, we see that in terrifying detail. The next attempt at an escape is joining the Death Eaters, but this too doesn’t work out.

He can’t flee anymore.

“Severus, you cannot pretend this isn’t happening!” Karkaroff’s voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. “It’s been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can’t deny it —”

“Then flee,” said Snape’s voice curtly. “Flee — I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts.”

Shortly thereafter:

“Severus,” said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, “you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready . . . if you are prepared . . .”

“I am,” said Snape.

He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

He was ready, and he was prepared. He didn’t fly; he walked toward what might well have been his end with open eyes, armed only with the strength of his mind. Before Voldemort killed him, he looked pale, again, and terrified.

“I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore.”

And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape’s face was like a death mask. It was marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.

I ask myself if this was the moment he realized he had been betrayed, that by giving Dumbledore a painless death he had secured his own. Maybe he wasn’t pale because he was scared; maybe he was pale because he was shocked. He was at his absolute limit, Occluding with all his might when he could have easily saved himself. The dam is about to break. All the memories he feared, all the weapons, the entire content of his heart is about to spill through - literally.

He fawned for Voldemort, the worst of all possible masters, but in the end, he was Voldemort’s undoing. All the ways in which he was weak and powerless against Tobias, James, Lucius, et al., proved to be part of goodness and source of his power. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that Snape is so loved. I’ve never actually seen such love for any other fictional character. He represents a kind of courage that many of us need to get by, lest we simply become evil or give the fuck up (“I wish I was dead”). A kind of courage rarely celebrated. The more time I’ve spent in the fandom in general and in the Snapedom in particular, the more I am convinced of this.

[prof-peach]

{{ Could you tell us more about Plum? I saw their name in the moveset post, and that selection of moves really intrigued me! Why the selection of ghost/psychic moves? What do they do on the island? Are they as prickly as the move selection made them sound? Super intrigued!

Plum grew up in the city, with very well off parents, who pretty much gave her the world. While that had its benefits, it came with some down sides. She became very entitled, putting herself on a pedestal and demanding a lot of others. When she wanted to become a ranger, to be like the cool actresses in the movies, attempting daring rescues, fighting crime with their Pokemon. Her family bought her a dratini as a first Pokemon, and paid to enrol her in the ranger academy.

At the same time, peach had been recommended for the same course by local authorities that wanted to channel her destructive nature into something more useful. She was indifferent to doing it, so just went along with the whole thing.

Day one, the pair met their class, their teachers, and the campus. They immediately clashed. Plum was being snide and condescending to other students, peach was sitting behind her, called her some unpleasant things with her stupid dead-pan face, they broke into a fight pretty soon after.

This behaviour continued for four months before the teachers began to explore other options for the pair. Plum had proven incapable of handling her rogue dratini, it paid her no attention, and was often disruptive and chaotic. However she was very astute on the written tests, and technical knowledge of the law. Peach on the other had was suited to the practical learning, her and her vulpix were agile and effective at battles. She however only just scraped by with the written content, and slacked in classes, did just enough to pass with the least amount of effort put in. And so the crazy idea of the pair having to work together at all times until they get along was born. If they didn’t achieve this, together as a team, they would both be booted off the ranger program.

Plum was distraught, the ranger training was hard, it was nothing like the movies showed, she felt cheated out of what she wanted. Her new human partner was a nightmare, rude, blunt, disrespectful, irritating. Her Pokemon partner was unruly, why didn’t it like her? She bought it the nicest things, and fussed over it, and all it would do was run away or try to break all her expensive things. Nothing had turned out right for plum, it was not going to her plan.

The pair had three months to get it together, or they were out.

First month they argued constantly, nitpicking behaviours, being petty, generally getting nothing done well. Peach would bring their collective grade down to spite plum, and plum would slow down and spook Pokemon in the wild constantly, making it impossible to do anything tactical.

Second month peach got sick and tired of plum’s dratini being unruly, and began to secretly work with it to build some trust, whenever plum wasn’t watching. Because plum’s head was always in the books, she was completely unaware of this going on. Instead she studied and brought their written grade up, making sure to compensate for her lazy human partner.

Month three was when plum caught on that peach was working with her Pokemon. They were out tracking an injured aipom, trying to help. Plum’s dratini was out, and it bolted off in one direction, plum called it, it didn’t respond, peach did the same, and it turned immediately to come back, returning to plum’s side. Shocked, plum for once said nothing. They managed to successfully track and trap the injured Pokemon, and give it aid before release. The mark of the first actual successful mission.

Plum began to actually look at what peach was doing, for the first time, she took her head out of the books and secretly began to observe. Observation turned to practice. She started to use things peach was doing, to connect with her partner, and grow their bond.

By the end of their trial three months as a duo team, they had not stopped arguing, fuelled by their newly developed bitter rivalry. Instead of crushing each other down during drills and exams, they worked to out-do each other. A save of your partner was a win, because you could rub it in their face that you were the reason they weren’t hurt. It was enough for the teachers to allow them both to stay on the course.

This continued for a year and a half, they were very volatile together, but always got the job done. It was then that peach had a run in with some truly horrible poachers, and found herself in possession of a Teddiursa with a lot of trauma. There was only one thing to do, the ranger course was regimented and strict, and that didn’t suit her lifestyle. Peach left for the mountains to work with the new member of her team, ditching plum and all her connections without a word.

Plum was furious she would just leave, and vowed to do better than peach ever could have. She finished the ranger course, worked her way up the ladder, and achieved a high ranking admin position after a number of years. Her rich taste never changed, her family money never ran out. Perhaps she could have been brought back down to earth if she had to work with someone like peach for longer, her now faithful dratini had evolved in that time, but always reminded her of the early years, when things were exciting, and she had a strong goal to achieve bigger and better things than her ranger partner.

With new labs popping up, and new connections being made, plum was assigned liaison duty with Dotaku island, unaware that her once small, young rival, was now a big, strong professor. Plum’s dragonair was the tell. It sensed peach a mile off, for the first time in many years, bolting off towards her when it first touched down on the island. Plum saw peach, peach saw plum, snide comments followed, that escalated to insults, then to shouting. And finally the realisation that they had to work together again after all those years.

Now when the ranger bases local to the island catch something that needs specialist care, they send it through, and plum will be the one who handles their cases, and eventual release or rehoming. She does all the paperwork and organising, and the labs handle the actual care and rehabilitation.

Plum is still childish at times, usually quite snide when provoked, but has become strategic and observational about how she handles most things. After graduating top of her class, she’d had a complex about being the best, and prides herself on that. Her paperwork is flawless, her analytical skills top notch. She does however fall short on her people skills, folks do find her snooty at times. She’s taken full advantage of her family money, and bought a lot of gear and lessons to improve her skills over the years. She does lose herself when confronted with her old rival, and both tend to resort to playground tactics.

[smells-like-mettaton]

Rating: T (for inherent neutral ending angst)

Summary: Toriel's old house feels like a mausoleum. She will gladly ignore chisp crumbs and lumpy mattresses for a place that feels more like home.  (Queen Toriel ending fic for Soriel Week 2021.)

Word Count: 5211

XXX

The bedroom was exactly how she left it. Her bed pushed up against the gray wall. A book about snails on the wooden desk. A knit sweater with the embroidered words "Mrs. Mom Lady" in the wardrobe.

Even after all this time, she could barely look at it without her soul splitting in two.

She'd known this wouldn't be easy. She hadn't seen this house in over a century. Still, she wasn't prepared for how Asgore had sealed up her old room like a tomb, a photograph of the day that everything went terribly, horribly wrong.

At least the last child was safe. They should not have had to take a life to save their own, but she doubted Asgore had given them a choice.  Her own soul felt more numb than anything.  To her, Asgore had died a century ago.

What was done, was done. And as usual, she was too late to do anything but sweep up the dust.

She backed through the doorframe, shutting the door with a quiet click. She would have to return eventually, but for now, she yearned for a place with fewer painful memories.

"Hey, Your Majesty." A voice startled her as she attempted to escape the foyer. Luckily it was a voice she would always recognize.

"Hello, old friend." She turned and smiled at the monster leaning against the stair railing.

He was smaller than she expected, with that deep voice. Not that that was a bad thing. As for him being a skeleton, that had been apparent from the abundance of bone puns.

"You know the formality is unnecessary," she told him softly.

"Is it?" He shuffled from foot to slippered foot. 

In all her time of joking with him through the door, she had never expected him to be so cute. 

"Didn't want to assume, old lady."

He winked, and she felt a weight lift from her chest. At least one monster would still treat her like a person, and not like a mythical figure returned to save them.

"Toriel," she introduced herself for the first time. He had to have heard already, but between rushing to the palace, scattering Asgore's dust, comforting their—her people… she hadn't had time to seek out her friend.

He seemed to feel comfortable walking right into her home, though. Did he ever visit Asgore when he was here? Her friend seemed like the type of monster who went wherever he felt like, and Asgore, for all his flaws, had never turned a monster away from his home.

"Sans." He held out a bony hand. "Sans the skeleton."

"Nice to meet you, Sans," she tested out the name and clasped his hand with her paw.

A loud pthbbbbbt echoed through the empty hall. Her eyes widened.

"Wow, Toriel. That's, uh, some way to make an introduction." He winked.

She squinted down at the inflatable object in his hand, the source of the farting noise. Then she pretended to ignore it.

"It certainly is. I was not aware that skeletons were capable of flatulence."

His eyelights gutted for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"Your jokes are even better in person," he said once he composed himself.

His laugh set her soul fluttering. In all their conversations through the door, he'd never laughed like that. Maybe she should have tried fart jokes sooner.

"I am always happy to tickle your funny bone." She smiled, and his face tinged blue.

"Happy to be tickled. But, uh. I guess that's not all I'm here for?"

Her breath caught in her lungs. Of course he would not visit without a reason. 

"I suppose not. Would you like to have a seat?"

"It's nothing that serious," he assured her quickly. "I just thought you'd want an update on the kid."

"You've spoken with them? They are still here?"  She tried to keep the hysteria from her voice.

How could they have taken Asgore’s soul and not returned home?  Had the Barrier proven too powerful?

"No—geez, I'm making this sound worse." He ran a bony palm down his face. "They’re definitely gone.  Papyrus tried to call them nonstop.  Besides that, you know the big stuff. The king's dead."

Her lips drew to a thin line, pulling tight across her fangs.

"I can hardly fault them for that."

"Right." He stuck his hands back in his pockets. "I gotta be honest. The way the kid looked when I last saw them… I don't think they did it."

Her brow furrowed. She was inclined to hope that the child had not chosen violence.  They had been so sweet, so eager to talk and joke with the monsters of the Ruins, so quick to hug her even after she’d fought them.  It was hard to imagine them striking down Asgore.

"But… then what do you think happened?"

Sans shrugged. "Wish I knew. I kept watch best I could, but…"

"I could not expect you to come between them and your king." As much as she wished he could have. She had hardly expected him to agree to watch over the human at all.

“Couldn’t have even if I wanted to.  These bones aren’t as sturdy as they look.  Maybe I shoulda listened to my bro and drank more milk...” He grimaced and glanced away.  “Anyway.  Like I said, I don’t know what happened.  Just.  Be careful, okay?”

“Careful?” She blinked.

“Yeah.  You never know.” His gaze flickered to a potted golden flower on the end table next to the stairs.

“Sans.  If I did not know better, that would sound like a threat.” She crouched down, so she could better meet his eyesockets. “Is there something you are trying to tell me?”

“Man. First I rip one in front of a lady, then I threaten her.  I’m makin’ a great first impression.”  He rocked back and forth on his slippers. “Look. Toriel. I don’t wanna scare you, ‘specially since today must’ve been hard. Real hard.”

His eyelights bored into her irises. She found herself needing to look away.

“It has certainly been… interesting. Moreso than any day since I last saw this place.” She suppressed a shudder.

Change. Her life had been constant for so long.  There would be no more of that, now. Hopefully that would be for the better, but only time would tell.

“Yeah. Being flung away from everything you’re used to… don’t imagine that’s a cakewalk. Don’t want you to worry about freaks hiding in the shadows on top of that.”

Somehow, she felt he made more sense when he was on the other side of a door. Knock-knock jokes had a formula. Just another normalcy she had forfeited, she supposed.

“Please, Sans. If you believe I am in danger, you may say so.”

“Fine. So.” He grinned, and she couldn’t help a snort.

“Alright, I suppose I walked into that one.” She smiled, despite his warning. “Under normal circumstances, I would say I could handle myself. But I must admit you are more updated on the state of the kingdom than I.  Do you have any information that could help?”

“...Not really?” His grin turned sheepish.  “You look like a tough lady. I bet my bones are rattling over nothing.”

“I would still humer-us you.”

He gave her a funny look. “You’re actually taking me seriously?”

“Why would I not? You are my friend.  Perhaps… my only friend, at this point,” she admitted.  It would be foolish to ignore a warning, even if it was based on gut feeling. Or, whatever skeletons had in place of a gut.

“Well.  Uh.  If someone, something, was behind the king’s… yeah. If it wasn’t the kid, whoever else it was might still be around. So.” He coughed. “Sounds stupid when I say it like that, huh.”

“It does not.  I think it is sweet that you are worried.” He wouldn’t be able to see her blush, thankfully. It had been a long time since anyone had looked out for her.

“Geez, Toriel.” He rubbed the back of his skull. “You’re gonna ruin my reputation.”

“What reputation? Are you typically a monster with a heart of bone?” she teased.

“Nah. I just don’t worry. Too much work.”  It was difficult to tell if he was joking.  “Guess I can make an exception this once, though.”

“Why, thank you, my friend.”  She had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze his hand.  It would be more for her own comfort than his, so she did not act on it. “To be honest, your words are a relief. I do not mind the excuse to avoid this place.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised. “You got somewhere else you’d rather be?”

She both did, and did not. How could she explain without sounding like a clinging child?

...Perhaps that was the wrong metaphor. She would have preferred her children to be a little clingier.

“‘Cause, uh, if you don’t mind a bit of mess… my door’s always open.”

She blinked at the offer. Had he felt the thoughts stirring in her soul?

She didn’t want to be alone. Not again. And she had told him the truth: there were unlikely to be any other monsters she knew still around. Perhaps Gerson; she and Asgore had always joked that he would outlive them.

That joke seemed awfully morbid now.

“Sorry. Was that too forward? Our friendship’s built off closed doors; guess we should just take 'em one at a—"

"No," she interjected too forcefully. “No. I would love to visit your home.”

Though she had never set foot there, she already suspected it would feel more like a home than this place.

“You really—? Great.” His skull tinged the faintest blue. “Just, uh, know that it’s nothing fancy.”

Toriel smiled. “‘Nothing fancy’ sounds wonderful at the moment.”

Perhaps wherever he lived would be out of the way enough that news of her return would be delayed. If she could be lucky enough to pass for an ordinary monster… well, that was likely too much to wish for. It certainly wasn’t becoming of a queen to hide from her subjects.

Stars, there was so much to get used to. So many formalities to reacquaint herself with.  She hoped such things would wait until tomorrow.

Sans returned her smile.

“In that case, I know a shortcut.”

XXX

She handled the shortcut well for a first-timer. No stumbling on the other end, no complaints of nausea or dizziness. Of course, she was a Queen. A Boss Monster. Why would a magic trick ruin her composure?

Sans wanted to laugh. All this time, he'd been joking with the Queen. She didn't seem to mind, but she could just be “humerus”ing him.

...Nah. She had every excuse to ignore him if she really wanted to. Instead she'd actually taken him up on his offer.

He almost forgot to drop her hand once their feet landed in the soft snow. Heh. Who was he kidding? It was just nice to feel her fur under his fingers. To touch her, and know that she was real.

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up, reflecting the gyftmas lights strung haphazardly around the house's columns. "I remember this place!"

"You do?" Sans's browbone furrowed.

"I saw it while travelling from the Ruins to…" she trailed off.  To stop the kid from fighting Asgore.

Sans felt stupid for not trying to stop them himself.  Not that a kid that determined would’ve listened, anyway.  Still… he’d believed in them.  Hoped that by some miracle, they’d get ‘em out of this mess.

Heh. That was too much pressure to put on a kid, even a determined one.

"Yeah." He coughed quietly. "Guess we're hard to miss. Papyrus did something to the Gyftmas lights—even when the CORE lights go out for the night, ours stay on. Never figured out how he pulled that off."

Toriel laughed before seeming to realize something.

"I will get to meet your brother!" She clasped her hands together. "I wish it had not come about for such an unhappy reason, but I am excited nonetheless."

He chuckled. Her excitement was contagious. That was something she and Papyrus had in common already.

He pushed the door open, called out for his brother—and noticed the monster sprawled out on his couch.

"Oh." Sans blinked at Undyne, who was snoring so loudly, he should've heard it from outside. Guess he'd been a little distracted. "Uh. This is awkward."

"What is it?" Toriel hung back, her head ducking through the doorframe. "Is your brother sleeping? I would not wish to wake him. You said he rarely sleeps, did you not?"

"Nah, it's not him. Forgot his pal's house burned down. Actually, I'm sure you met her. Undyne? Captain of the Royal Guard?"

"I… yes, we met." Toriel edged inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "She looks far more peaceful now than she did this morning. From what I understand, my ex-husband was something of a father to her."

"Something like that." Sans nodded in agreement. There hadn't even been a Royal Guard until Asgore created the position for her. Sans wondered if Toriel would keep it around now that Asgore was gone.

Welp. It wouldn't hurt, what with his suspicions about Papyrus's friend "Flowery." 

(Maybe Sans should let Toriel sleep on the top floor rather than the couch anyway. No dirt for stray flowers to get into up there.)

"Should we be staring?" Toriel said with a soft chuckle.

Sans shook his thoughts away. "Sorry. Just thinking. I, uh…"

There wasn't room on the top floor. Sans's lumpy, crumb-dusted mattress was out of the question. That left only Papyrus's bed, which while rarely in use, had too much sentimental value to give to Toriel without asking. Where was Papyrus, anyway?

"Undyne!" His brother practically kicked in the door. "I have returned with nutritious—oh!"

Papyrus's sockets blinked at Toriel. Then at Sans. Then at Toriel again.

(Undyne let out another loud snore.)

"Sans?”  Papyrus dropped his groceries on the table next to the pet rock. “Why didn't you tell me we had another guest??"  

Because he was an idiot who hadn't planned past one impulsive offer. His face went a little blue.

"I guest you would figure it out," he managed to joke. 

Toriel let out a bleating laugh at that. The suddenness of it was enough to jolt Undyne awake.

"NGAHH!!" She tried to leap off the couch, but ended up rolling onto the floor. "I'm here, Asgore! I won't—oh."

Her single eye blinked up at Toriel. 

"Papyrus?" Undyne hissed through her teeth. "Why didn't you tell me the Queen was coming??"

"Because I didn't know!" Papyrus replied brightly. 

"I, uh, promise I'm usually more professional than this." Undyne summoned an energy spear and used it to push herself to her feet. The attack left a small char mark on the carpet. "I am at your service, Your Majesty."

Sans thought she looked real professional in a pair of Papyrus's MTT-brand crop top pajamas. Toriel didn't comment on that though, instead opting for a matronly smile.

"There is no need for that, Captain. I am not here on business, but as a friend."

That smile turned towards Sans, and he fought back a blush.

"Yeah. I was just gonna, uh, make some dinner. Y'know, welcome our queen back with some Snowdin hospitality."

"Dinner?" Papyrus squinted suspiciously. "You don't cook dinner. I cook dinner."

"First time for everything, right?" Sans winked to hide his embarrassment. 

Of course Papyrus wouldn't buy his excuse. But he really didn't want his brother and Undyne worrying on top of Toriel. Granted, it was Undyne's job to worry about security threats… but she'd tear up the house's foundation if she thought an enemy might be hiding anywhere in a five-mile radius. 

"Sans," Toriel chided him. "You do not owe me that."

"Wowie! You must be a great influence on him, Bald Asgore!"

Toriel blinked before bursting out laughing. Sans's grin widened. 

"Her name is Toriel, bro."

"Of course!! Where are my manners?" Papyrus bustled past him to shake Toriel's paws. "I am the Great Papyrus! It's an honor to meet you, Queen Toriel!"

"The honor is mine. Sans has told me so much about you," she said, and Papyrus blushed pink.

"You? Know the new queen?" Undyne whispered to Sans while Papyrus and Toriel got acquainted.

"You know me. I know everyone." He winked.

"She came out of nowhere."

"Yeah. My bro and I know what that's like."

Undyne huffed, but Sans didn't offer a more thorough explanation.

Papyrus's affronted shout signalled that Toriel had dropped her first pun.

"I take it back! This is the worst day of my life!!" 

Sans met Toriel's eyes, and they both laughed.

"I suppose I will have to help Sans in the kitchen as my pun-ishment," she said with a coy wink.

"Normally I would object to a guest cooking, but in this case I will make an exception!" Papyrus turned on his heel and grabbed Undyne's arm. "We will clean up the living room in the meantime! Try not to corrupt the queen any further, Sans!!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, bro."

He gave a quick wink to Toriel behind Papyrus's back, and they moved to the kitchen.

"Did I actually upset him…?" She asked once they were out of earshot.

"Nah. He's just dramatic like that. He'll drop three puns per sentence when he thinks I'm not listening."

He turned away, rummaging through the fridge for something edible they could cook.  Discreetly, he tucked his empty chisp bag behind Papyrus’s spaghetti-filled tupperware.

“Oh, good.  I would not want to make a bad first impression.”

“Pfft. You’d have to try real hard to do that, Tori.  My bro sees the best in everyone.”  He smiled and pulled a “pupperoni” pizza out of the freezer.  It wasn’t anything fancy, but at least it would be edible.

He turned around, pizza in hand, and found Toriel staring at him oddly.

“What?”  His sockets widened.  “Uh, you’re not vegetarian, are you?”

She shook her head quickly, her gaze skimming off of his like oil from water.

“Pizza sounds lovely.  It has been quite some time since I had one.”

Sans didn’t pry, but he couldn’t help wondering what her expression had meant.  Had he said something weird?

...Oh.  He’d called her Tori, hadn’t he?  He should know better than to use nicknames without asking.  Papyrus hated them.

“Please, allow me.”  She held out her paws, so she couldn’t be too upset.

He handed over the pizza, and he jumped when fire flared to life in her palms.  For a moment he thought the fire would scorch the pizza beyond recognition, but the flames were just pleasantly warm.  He’d never known a monster other than Grillby to have such careful control of fire magic.

“Heh.  I didn’t know you were so hot, Toriel.”

As soon as he said it, he clamped his jaw shut.  Geez, how stupid could he be?  Making bad jokes was one thing, but flirting with bad jokes?

The fire went out.  She looked up abruptly—er, looked away from the pizza.  He was still a good two feet shorter than her.

“Tori was fine,” she said, her voice soft.

“Uh,” he replied intelligently. 

She suppressed a giggle, and he was pretty sure his face burned hotter than her fire had.  He could stand to take notes from Alphys and throw himself in the trash.

“Or not.  Whatever is comfortable for you,” she reassured him.  “Now, should we eat dinner before it gets cold?”

Eating was hardly something he could screw up at.

“Sure,” then after a pause, he tested, “Tori.”

Forget her fire magic.  Her smile could’ve heated the pizza all on its own.

XXX

For once in a hundred years, dinner was a warm and energetic affair.  In addition to the pizza, Papyrus had tossed together a salad from his fresh groceries, and Sans had briefly stepped out to grab a few orders of wings and fries.  In the end there was plenty of food for four hungry monsters.

Papyrus apologized for the lack of seating, but Toriel didn’t mind sitting on the couch squeezed between Sans and Undyne, eating off of paper plates.  She couldn’t imagine anywhere she would have felt more comfortable.

Before long, though, the day’s fatigue caught up with her.  She supposed it was to be expected—she wouldn’t regain her social stamina all at once.  

Sans caught her eye, and he nodded towards the stairs as Undyne and Papyrus “owned” each other in an MTT-Brand fighting game.

“Sorry.  I know they can be a bit much.” Sans rubbed the back of his skull.  

“They’re lovely.  I wish I had the energy to keep up with them.”  She smiled.

He leaned against the banister, smiling down at them.  Papyrus had gotten the upper hand this time, and was punching the air with joy.

“Me too,” Sans said, still looking away.  “I was thinking.  If you want a place to rest for the night, my bed’s open.”

She blinked.  Her face seemed to catch fire.  That was rather more… forward than she was expecting.  Sure, she had enjoyed his lighthearted flirting, and much as she tried to deny it, feelings had been growing in her for a long time.  But to have him return those feelings? And so boldly? It was as unfathomable as it was unlikely.

“I can get ya some fresh sheets, and I’ll crash in the shed.  My bro set up an, uh, guest room there when the human was in town.”

Oh.  She rubbed the heat from her face while he wasn’t looking.  How foolish could she be, to think he would be implying…? Well.

“I would not force you out of your room,” she said.  “If your brother prepared a guest room, I am sure that would be adequate.”

He let out a quick laugh.  “Uh, you’re not used to my brother’s… decorating.  Seriously, I don’t mind.”

She sighed.  If he insisted, she supposed it would be rude to deny his hospitality.

“Alright.  Thank you very much, Sans.”

“Great.”  He smiled back at her, then went into his brother’s room.  She waited patiently, and only jumped a little when he suddenly reappeared from the right hand door.  Perhaps the two rooms were connected in the back by a bathroom.

“Hotel Sans, one vacancy.”  He winked while holding the door open.

She chuckled behind her hand.  “You really did not have to resort to this.”

“Heh, I wouldn’t call it much of a resort.  The bed’s not even queen sized.”  He rubbed the back of his skull.

The bed was smaller than she was used to, but it did have fresh sheets.  That was the only fresh thing about the room.  Chisp crumbs had been brushed under the dresser, and… that was a tornado.  A self-sustaining trash tornado.  Though at least there was a pine-scented air freshener suspended in it.

“Sorry, it’s… really not much.  Uh.  Probably kinda insulting, expecting the Queen to sleep—”

“It’s perfect.”

He blinked.  “Huh?” 

“I am no stranger to a few crumbs, Sans.”

She remembered days that bled into weeks that bled into months.  Months where she couldn’t bring herself to clean, could hardly bring herself to care at all.  Months that had grown fewer and farther between since she’d met a friendly voice behind a door.

“I would’ve vacuumed,” he said sheepishly, “but I suck at it.”

More embarrassingly loud laughter burst from her.  In front of Sans, though, she didn’t feel the need to curtail her joy.

“Thank you.” She poured as much sincerity as she could into her voice.  

“‘S no problem, Tori.”  A light blue tinge warmed his cheekbones.  How could he possibly look so adorable? “Bathroom’s down the hall if you wanna wash up or anything.  And Undyne’ll be on the couch, so this is probably the safest place in the Underground right now.”

Her brow furrowed.  Sure enough, there was no bathroom door inside the room—he must have used one of his “shortcuts” to move from his brother’s room to here.

“So, uh.  I’ll be in the shed—uh, guest room if you need me.”  He flashed one more tense grin before turning to leave.

“Wait.” She stepped towards him without thinking.  

He looked up, one brow ridge raised.  She found herself biting her lip, wondering if she dared ask what her soul wanted.  It was silly, really.  She’d been on her own for years, decades.

Maybe that was why she was so hesitant to lose this one taste of companionship.

“I would feel… safer, if you would stay too.”  Her face burned beneath her fur, but she projected her usual composure.

“...Welp. Can’t say no to that, huh?”

She was about to reassure him that he could say no—that she was asking as his friend, not as his queen—but the soft smile on his face told her he already knew.  

He briefly left to grab a few things, then returned with a few pillows and, for some reason, a dog bed.

“You are not going to sleep on that,” she said in disbelief.

He flopped the dog bed in the middle of the floor and started fluffing it.  “Why not?  Gotta throw a dog bed a bone, right?”

“Sans.”  

The outdoor lights dimmed, as if at her command.  Only the colored Gyftmas lights outside and one dim indoor bulb lit the room.

Her confidence waned with the light.  What had she expected him to do?  She’d asked him to stay.  Unless she wanted to…

Oh, to hell with it.  She was too old to be so shy about these things.

“If you are not opposed,” she swallowed, “we could… share this mattress.”

When he looked up, she couldn’t make out his eyelights at all.  Their glow returned slowly, like the rising of the sun from her memories.

“Heh… you sure?  You don’t even know if I snore.”

She laughed and sat on the bed, patting the space beside her.  “You do not know if I snore, either.”

“Fair enough, Tori.”

They took turns cleaning up in the bathroom—she was imposing on Sans enough without adding the smell of dirty fur to his bed.  Then she did her best to ignore the flutterings in her soul as he slipped off his hoodie and climbed up onto the mattress.  She insisted he stay under the sheets; her fur would keep her warm enough with just the light blanket on top.  

The sheets were a barrier in name only.  There was only so much space on the mattress, so no matter how he adjusted and apologized, she could still feel the curve of his spine against hers.

It felt amazing.  It felt terrifying.  It felt like a mistake.  It felt like the only thing she’d ever done right.

The one saving grace of the whole situation was that it didn’t stir memories of Asgore.  Her royal beds had been triple the size of Sans’s lumpy mattress. She and her ex-husband had rarely slept back to back, and if they had, the feeling would have much different.

“...Tori?” Sans’s voice was just above a whisper.  “You, uh, still awake?”

As if she could sleep while enduring the wonderful agony of friendly touch for the first time in a century.

“Yes,” she replied softly.  “Am I taking up too much space?”

“No, ‘course not. I was just, uh… geez.” He sounded embarrassed.

Risking their precarious balance, she rolled over to face him.  Or to face the back of his skull, at least.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Doin’ sans-sational.” He chuckled to himself.  “Sorry.  Never got to use that one with you before.”

She would have laughed, had she not worried about shaking the whole mattress.

“It was sans-tastic,” she joked back, and he laughed again.

Then abruptly, his laughter cut off.

“Thanks, Tori,” he said in a quiet but firm voice.

“What for?” She wished she could take his hand, see his face, learn what thoughts were passing through his skull.  Instead she gave him as much space as physically possible… which still was not much.

A long, silent moment passed.  Had he fallen asleep?

“I know it’s not how you wanted,” he finally said, “but I’m glad I got to meet you.  So.  Thanks.”

Warmth spread outward from her soul to fill her whole body.  Sans could probably feel it radiating from her.

“Thank you, Sans.  If I had to return, knowing no one…”

He rolled to face her.  His eyelights were mere inches from her pupils.

“You would’ve been fine.  All you had to do was tell a few of your amazing jokes, and the whole Underground would’ve been linin’ up to be your pals.”

She suppressed a laugh.  “I hardly think that would be appropriate, under the circumstances.”

“Eh.”  He shrugged.  “Plenty of monsters in town cope with jokes.  You’d just be relating to the common folk.”

She stared into his sockets a little too intently.  At this distance, it easily made her dizzy.

“Would you be included in that demographic?” she couldn’t help asking.

“When I first met you?  For sure.” His gaze darted away.  “But it’s crazy.  Between you and the kid… I’m startin’ to think there’s more to life than good food and bad laughs.”

“Really?”  She and the child had made such an impact on him?

“I know.  Don’t tell Papyrus.  He wouldn’t believe you, anyway.” He winked.

“My lips are sealed.” She smiled.

Silence hung between them.  It should have felt awkward, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away.  In the end it was Sans who yawned in her face and then hurriedly flipped back onto his other side.

She laughed, and clearly she was exhausted too, because she pressed a kiss to the back of his skull without thinking.

He froze.  She froze.  There was no way to play that off gracefully.  And there was no way she could fall asleep and pretend that it had not happened.

“Heh… those didn’t feel very sealed to me,” he finally rasped out.

It took her a moment to process what he meant.  Meanwhile her embarrassment only burned hotter.

“I am so sorry—”

“I’m not.” When he rolled back to face her, his face was bright blue.  “You’ll still be here when I wake up, right?”

His question was tinged with desperation.

“Of course,” she answered automatically, despite the many responsibilities that she would have to attend to in the morning.  She was the Queen once more.  If she had to, she could adjust the schedule of meetings and speeches to accommodate… this.

Whatever this was to be.

“Remind me in the morning,” he squeezed her hand, “that this is real.”

His hand quickly went limp.  She was worried for a moment, before she heard the faint snore escape his nasal cavity.

She gave him a fond smile, and allowed her own eyes to close.  She did not know if sleep would come or not.  She did not know what challenges the new day would bring, or what old challenges would continue to rear their heads.

But she did know that she was not alone.  For tonight, that was enough.

[wallwriterstuff]

The Good I Come Home To ||Leon S. Kennedy x Female!Reader|| Part 1

Warnings: Angsty, PTSD Leon being very jumpy and shell-shocked, mentions of sex. 

Words: 3318

Summary: Originally posted to my Archive of Our Own Account. 

Part 2 can be found here

Leon has kept it very casual with you for months, seemingly oblivious of the growing feelings you harbour. You have no idea just how badly it hurts him to leave you every time until he tries to cut you out of his life completely. You have other ideas. You just have to persuade Leon they're the right ones.

Leon S. Kennedy was a complicated man in many respects, but it was easy to unravel all those complex layers if you started looking at his core values, his sense of purpose. To serve, to protect. Leon was built to be the bodyguard of humanity, the first line of defence between unimaginable horror and the things he loved. Every experience had moulded him into this hard shell of a man, so far from the one people used to know. It had been interesting, really, to see an old friend from the Police Academy approach him and see just how different they had turned out. They both had the eyes of experience anybody in the force acquired over time, but Leon’s were sterner, like an unbreakable stone as opposed to ice you could chip away at and eventually shatter. This old friend of his had a small-town job and apple pie life. He had the white picket fence and the wife who kissed him when he came home to freshly made dinner. His children were doing well at school.

Leon had listened like his life was a whole other world away. It was visible in his eyes, though he carefully kept it off his face, that the comparison between each man actually disturbed him. You hadn’t meant to see of course. It was pure coincidence you’d happened to be in the supermarket, walking down that same aisle. His old friend had hit the barricade you so often hit when you asked. You’d stopped questioning it after a few months of back and forth and the looming threat of losing him became a dark and unbearable burden.

“So er, heard about the huge explosion at Raccoon. Where’d they place you after that?”

“Nowhere. I work for the government now.”

“Oh damn. FBI?”

“Something like that.”

His job was the complicated topic. Classified and bad enough to put a certain brand of darkness behind his eyes when you asked, it was  best left untouched by your hands because it was hidden beneath the many layers of the man you’d only ever been allowed to scratch the surface of – literally and figuratively. Beyond his core values, the simplicity of Leon S. Kennedy lay in his needs. He was a flesh and blood man after all. He was guaranteed to need to eat, to do laundry, to shower, to relieve himself. These simple needs were what made him somewhat predictable to you. On his best days, when he text you days or hours before, you were almost guaranteed to be wined and dined. Okay so the wine and dine option was sometimes more like beer and take-out pizza but it was always paid for by him if you bought the alcohol.

When he was feeling a little less than okay, you’d get no outright statement of his desire to see you, but he’d hedge around the topic and wait for you to ask him, like he was afraid to be a nuisance. You’d only get this awkward and prompting behaviour from him an hour or two before he showed up which left you little time to prepare, but a quick shower was always on the cards. In his worst moments, he’d give no warning and simply show up at your house with smouldering eyes that demanded your attention and everything else you had to give him. God help you, you always gave him everything. As simple as his needs were, as his feelings on the matter appeared, yours were much more complicated. Leon S. Kennedy had made it clear from the start when he met you at the bar that fateful night, all chiselled jaw and playful eyes, that nothing serious was to come of this.

It had progressed to a proper agreement when you both seemed to just keep running into each other. You were free to date, if you so pleased, and he’d stop showing up. He’d be gone like dust in the wind, untraceable and impossible to bring back. You didn’t want that. Until the day either of you became tied down you had agreed you were exclusive. You sated each other only. It was hard to keep to that promise all the time when he was away for long periods, but you remained true to your word anyway, and that was how it had stayed for a solid eight months. Leon came back to a bed you kept free just for him and left in the morning like it was no more than a pit-stop on a long and winding road.

You suspected he wasn’t proud of it. You thought sometimes you could see something softer in his eyes, something that made you think he wished for something more than he was already giving you. There were moments his eyes lingered when he said goodbye, times his hands stayed on you a little longer than they usually did. On rare occasions, when he was just a bit too drunk after what you guessed was a bad job, you let him sleep it off with his arms around you and listened to the whimpers in his sleep with an aching heart. Leon consistently let you have his body, gave you the briefest glimpses at the big heart he held so carefully hidden away, but never once did he let you into his mind. As much as you loved being with him, you had never truly been with him at all. You’d never truly connected with him beyond anything physical. It pained you to know you never would. You cared for him too much. You saw the deep pain he carried with him everywhere, and you’d never be able to alleviate that load because he wouldn’t let you.

You had to pause the TV to be sure you’d actually heard anything at all, but when you heard the noise again it was stronger, bolder. Knocking. Glancing at the clock, you turned the TV off with a frown. There weren’t many people who would come knocking at this late hour, and you didn’t know if your heart was in it tonight to let him in when he would forever keep you out. As if on cue, when you opened the door to a dripping wet Leon, thunder rumbled and rattled the open window in the corridor of your apartment block. A small puddle of water had formed on the windowsill, dripping in as the harsh rain battered the glass. Leaving your door propped with the door stop you kept nearby for moments like these, you crossed to the window to close it and lock out the weather. You felt sullen enough without the storm clouds invading your house.

“Leon if you’re here to drink that’s okay but I’m not really up for-“ you cut yourself off, uncertain all of a sudden as to what it was he was here for. His needs were always so simple, the looks and actions associated with them something you had come to learn to recognise without much conscious thought. This was entirely new. Those piercing blue eyes were sullen, fighting between being as hard as sapphire and as soft as calm ocean waves. What was frightening was the depth of the ocean you saw. It was like staring into an abyss of torment. Red-ringed and with whisky on his breath, it didn’t take a genius to realise Leon had been crying and was in fairly bad shape. Hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, he stared at you through those horribly complex eyes, his mouth half open like he wanted to say something but couldn’t force the words out. He was pale, breaths even but heavy, like he had to physically remind himself to huff out each one.

Wordlessly, you took him by the hand. His skin was freezing to the touch and you guessed the faithful jacket had done little to keep the bitter cold from seeping into his exposed skin. Your theory was proven right when his cheeks were just as cold to the touch.

“I…” you thought he might say more but it was like watching a caveman learn to talk. There were only sounds, no words. He was usually very skilful with his tongue but tonight those talents were nowhere to be found. Pushing his jacket from his shoulders you hung it to dry over the back of your sofa, hoping the radiator would do its job and leave it toasty for him when he inevitably put it on to leave you again. You ignored the stinging in your chest at the thought. Leon didn’t need you to be petty right now. Truthfully, you were frightened. Leon’s carefully constructed composure had been shattered by something and you didn’t think you wanted to know what was strong enough to shatter this man’s rock hard exterior and cut him so deeply. He stood dumbly in your hallway, and you gently pushed him to the edge of the sofa to take off his shoes so they wouldn’t traipse water into your home.

“Shhh Leon, just come with me.” You coaxed him back onto socked feet, leading him down the hall to your bathroom.

“No…no Y/N I, I don’t…” he swallowed.

“Do you trust me Leon?” you asked him, keeping your voice gentle like you were cajoling a wild animal into eating from your palm. Leon nodded without question and you smiled slightly. “Then just follow for me now.” You kicked open your door and led him to the edge of the tub, grabbing a towel from the shelving units there and placing it on the sink.

“What are you doing?” he could barely speak above a whisper, looking confused and upset and lost all at once.

“I’m going to run you a nice hot bath before you catch your death. I don’t know how long you were in the rain for Leon but you’re frozen to the bone.” You said calmly, putting the plug in the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. Leon didn’t answer, merely watched you with the eyes of a man so lost in trauma he couldn’t find his way back to the surface world and make sense of the happenings around him. While you waited for the water to turn steamy, you rubbed at his hair with the towel in your hand to dry it. You knew something was incredibly wrong when he let you mess it up like that. There were very few instances you were allowed to touch his hair and you had to always, always comb it back into place or suffer the consequences. Occasionally, you took a break to fill the tub with some of your prized bath oils. Lavender, camomile, jasmine, all your favourite scents from a beautiful kit a colleague had bought you as part of secret Santa last year.

He didn’t comment as the room filled with intoxicating, relaxing scents, nor when you checked the temperature again and told him he could get in when he was ready. He held the towel in both hands, staring at the cotton as if it might hold some answers.

“Thank you.” He mumbled. You nodded once.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” you asked him. He nodded once, but he didn’t meet your gaze. He was lying you were sure. “Okay. Take as long as you need in here, I’ll be about when you feel ready to see me alright?” you promised, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. Your lips lingered a little too long, but Leon didn’t move away. He closed his eyes as if the contact was all he had wanted and more. As the door closed behind you you heard the soft, muffled sob he tried so hard to bury in the towel, and your heart broke a little more. Something had shattered Leon S. Kennedy and it didn’t sit well with you at all to see him this vulnerable. He needed the space right now to get his mind back in order but once he did, when he was ready to face you, you weren’t sure you’d get an explanation from him. He’d shut down every time you’d ever asked for one before.

He’d woken screaming one night, lashing out so violently that if you had been sat upright there’d have been no way to avoid his fist and he’d have knocked you out cold. When you tried to ask what was wrong, he’d simply snapped at you to leave him be and left your apartment so fast there could have been a fire under his ass. So, what did you do? Did you just not even try? He hadn’t made a move on you, had specifically said no when he saw you heading in the direction of the bedroom. But if he wasn’t here for sex what was he here for? It only added to your anxiety that you really had no clue what he wanted if it wasn’t your body he’d come for, and though part of you thought that should make you angry, another part of you hoped that that meant it was something more that he was after this time. The kind of more you wanted.

No. You had to try for him. You couldn’t let him go on like this. He didn’t have to fight the war in his head alone, not when you were here. At least, if he wanted to go it alone, he could have someone stable waiting with a safety net if he stumbled. For now you’d let him linger and soak in the tub, and you’d make the most out of the ingredients you had in the fridge. If he stayed, he could eat it off a plate. If he didn’t…well, you’d make some in a container in case. Pasta bake had always been your father’s speciality and it had been your favourite as a child, was still your comfort food now. Chicken and bacon sizzled, pasta boiled, and you grated the cheese to the rhythm of your favourite song playing softly on the radio while the milk and butter warmed on the stove. You snagged a piece of bacon from the wok and let the salty flavour burn your tongue.

With your masterpiece constructed and more cheese grated on top, you slid the dish into the oven for it to crisp up and set your timer, setting about washing the utensils next. It kept your hands busy, kept your mind from wandering too much, but even the sudsy water couldn’t quite keep your mind from ticking over. Why had Leon come here in the pouring rain? What had spooked him so badly he’d thought, in his less than coherent state, that he needed to be here in your apartment? Did the fact he’d come to you mean anything at all or did he just happen to be nearby? You put the saucepan a little harder than necessary into the rack when it slipped from your hands, jumping and cursing to yourself at the loud clang it had made.

“Y/N!” Leon almost roared your name in pure, abject terror. Eyes wide you rushed for the bathroom, hands still soapy and dripping water. He was already out of the bathtub, naked and scrambling through his jacket until he came up with a gun of all things, aimed right at you as you burst through the door. A shriek escaped you and you immediately dropped to the floor, hands above your head.

“Leon it’s me!” you begged. Harsh breathing filled the room.

“Where is it?” he demanded. You peeked up at him from below your arms, lowering them slowly. He was half-crouched, eyes wild and fixated on the door that led back to your room. He offered you a hand. “Come on, get up and get behind me, where is it?” he repeated the question more firmly now.

“Where’s what? Leon I – there’s only us here. I just dropped a saucepan.” You breathed. His expression faltered, confusion flooding his features first , then guilt, and finally grief. His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, held it, exhaled slowly. He lowered his gun after a few more deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking a little like a kicked puppy. You shook your head, slowly pushing to your feet so as not to startle him. His skin was tinged pink, little suds clinging to the ends of his hair. The timer went off in the kitchen and Leon flinched again, hand tensing around the gun. You soothingly placed your hand on his arm.

“It’s just the timer. We’re the only people here Leon, nothing’s going to hurt us. How’s about you dry off and come have something to eat?” you suggested. He blanched at the mention of food and you frowned. “You don’t have to eat everything, just a little bit, you look really pale.” You reached for the towel and held it out to him until he reluctantly nodded and wrapped it around his waist. You left the door slightly ajar and headed for the kitchen to switch off the damn timer. He was so jumpy, so eager to jump to your defence. You plated up a small portion, not wanting to put him off with a large one. You didn’t feel particularly hungry yourself but you’d had a proper meal earlier in the evening, a cup of tea would suffice, camomile and honey would soothe your nerves. Leon had a liking for peppermint you knew. Maybe if he was nauseous that would help him eat? Tea and pasta bake served you sat opposite his place, one hand wrapped around the handle of your mug and the other pulled up to your mouth, your teeth nibbling the side of your nail.

“You’ll make your thumb sore.” He lingered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should sit down or run away. You dropped your hand and placed a more welcoming smile on your lips, nodding to the plate.

“Chicken and bacon pasta bake. It’s good.” You invited. Hesitantly, Leon shuffled to the chair and sat down. You didn’t push him to talk. Months of being with Leon had assured you that pushing would only clam him up further, and you wanted to pry him open tonight. With a sinking feeling, you realised it might be the last night you ever saw him. He’d let himself be extremely vulnerable to you already and you weren’t the type of person to see this kind of trauma and let it go unchecked. You’d want to check in on him, you’d want to help him feel better, and Leon didn’t appreciate the questions you’d have to ask to get the kind of help he needed right. He sighed slightly, picking up the fork and taking a small bite. He looked physically sick for the first few mouthfuls, and you made an effort to distract him with small talk about the weather, your day and all its mundane happenings.

He seemed enraptured by your very voice, soaking in every syllable that crossed your lips and mindlessly working his arm and mouth to clear the plate and drain the mug in front of him.

“Can I have a bit more? It’s really good.” He surprised you with his request but you obliged him, spooning some more on his plate.

“If you’re that partial to it you can take some home to.” You said simply. He nodded once, clearing the second portion with ease and looking much better for it. The colour had returned to his cheeks and he looked a little more put together than before. You settled back in your chair, watched him clean his plate and put it in the drying rack. It was a courtesy you’d never have asked for but were grateful for nonetheless. He didn’t turn around though, keeping his back to you and tightening his grip on the countertop.

[dweetwise]

since i already did the killers, here’s the survivors reacting to their newest addition!

Yun-Jin & survivors headcanons

Dwight tries not to judge people too quickly, as his hands aren't exactly clean either. He doesn't really care what Yun-Jin did before, the problem is that she only looks after herself in trials. When his numerous attempts at friendly advice fall on deaf ears because she clearly doesn't regard him as a leader, Dwight kind of gives up on and hopes that she might come around one day.

Meg is instantly wary of Yun-Jin, her story not painting the producer in a good light at all. She’ll "accidentally” lead the killer to Yun-Jin in trials, doubly so if they're going against the Trickster, seeing it as fitting punishment for someone willing to turn to a blind eye to the atrocities the idol committed.

Claudette always tries to see the best in people, but after Yun-Jin leaves her to die on hook several times, the botanist realizes her trust in the other woman might be misplaced. Her own morals refuse to let her treat Yun-Jin different from the others, but it makes Claudette sad to know the producer most likely wouldn’t return the favor.

Jake is downright hostile, as the cutthroat nature of the business world was one of the main reasons he put his old life behind him. He's annoyed when some of the others try to force him to make friends with Yun-Jin just because they happened to be born in the same country.

Nea is both intrigued and cautious, fond of Yun-Jin's unapologetic attitude but not a fan of the way she essentially sold her soul to be a corporate pawn. She teaches the woman how to be a pain in the ass to any killer, but usually keeps her distance since Yun-Jin is clearly only looking after herself and Nea is not about to be caught in a bad spot without back-up.

Laurie is pissed. Upon hearing about the producer's connection to the Trickster, she goes off, accusing Yun-Jin of creating a murderer. Some of the others intervene—though don't necessarily disagree—but Laurie doesn’t budge on her stance.

Ace isn't blind to the parallels between his and Yun-Jin’s lives, having to play dirty in order to escape their less fortunate upbringings. He admires her extravagant fashion sense and always makes sure to compliment her outfits, happy to notice it makes her hold her head up higher after a rough trial.

Bill writes her off as a stuck-up rich kid that never had to face hardships, but is proven severely wrong when Yun-Jin shows to fare well even without the comfort of her penthouse. When he sees her making a fire and she mentions she had to learn how to keep warm when their heat was shut off, the contempt is gradually replaced by respect.

Feng is also somewhat of a lone wolf and doesn't care that Yun-Jin cares mostly about self-preservation. She'll tell the woman that they won't have any problems as long as she stays out of Feng’s way in trials. The two end up working well together, exchanging strategies on the best ways to split up and rush generators.

David isn't impressed by the producer’s appearance, thinking she's a spoiled brat that will throw a tantrum as soon as she chips a nail. Will tease her in trials, scoffing “Careful ya don't get blood on yer fancy jacket, princess”. She never takes the bait, instead opting to survive to the end and leave David to die on his first hook, giving him the finger from the safety of the exit gate. David sees it as a playful rivalry, though in reality the woman probably hates his guts.

Quentin is familiar with the guilt of creating a monster and instead of being angry at Yun-Jin, claims that this is her chance to make it right. He gets her to tell them everything she knows about the Trickster that might benefit them in trials. He's not that bothered by her refusal to work as a team, knowing it won't be long before she realizes she has to help others if she wants to survive.

Tapp has some very unfortunate flashbacks to his last case before he died, a psychopath and his accomplices making his life a living hell. And that's what he sees Yun-Jin as; an accomplice and enabler of the Trickster. He doesn't bother to hide his distrust, keeping a sharp eye on the woman as if expecting her to turn against them at any second.

Kate is initially put off by Yun-Jin's stuck-up attitude, having been forced to deal with her fair share of money-hungry producers. However, when they slowly get to know each other and the Korean mentions her own buried aspirations of being a musician, Kate recognizes their similarities; both of them just wanted to share their music with the world.

Adam attempts to make hesitant small talk about Seoul, trying to find common ground. However, when Yun-Jin only talks about Michelin-star restaurants and luxurious boutiques, Adam resigns himself to the fact that the woman has little interest in anything not revolving around money or music.

Jeff is a firm believer in live and let live and doesn't have anything against Yun-Jin despite the woman being his polar opposite in almost every way. He can tell the producer is surprised every time he strikes up casual conversation or offers to heal her in a trial, clearly not used to kindness from a stranger.

Jane is no stranger to being in the spotlight and doesn't approve of Yun-Jin's corrupt methods of navigating fame. She’s persistent in trying to get through to the producer, going out of her way to help the other in the hope that Yun-Jin will one day do the same.

Ash makes some good-natured jokes that Yun-Jin looks fancy compared to the rest of them. He doesn't care that some of the others think she's a bad person, he admires her gutsy attitude and doesn't treat her any different than others, one of the few who happily trade his life for hers in trials.

Nancy isn't as quick as most of the others to judge Yun-Jin. She's curious to know the whole story, and eventually understands why Yun-Jin made the decisions she did. They’re on neutral terms and occasionally exchange stories of their lives before, but Nancy swiftly learns that when they’re in a trial together, it’s every woman for herself.

Steve is a little starstruck, the K-pop producer’s extravagant appearance a far cry from the monotony of his small town. He can't help but try to impress her, doing stupid tricks in trials and pestering her about whether she thinks he would ever have a shot at stardom. As soon as he hears her artist name, he insists on addressing her as Magnum Opus, and even manages to get a smile for his efforts.

Yui doesn't give two shits about the woman’s questionable morals, instead thinking Yun-Jin is a badass for managing to do so well for herself against all odds. She's quick to welcome the producer to their group, and when questioned by the others, says that it would take a lot more than that for her to throw away the concept of sisterhood.

Zarina asks a lot of questions, curious about Yun-Jin's connection to the Trickster. It quickly becomes apparent that their morals clash horribly, and Zarina is appalled at the way the woman threw away integrity for corporate greed. She doesn’t trust Yun-Jins promises about making the killer pay, knowing people don’t change overnight.

Cheryl tries to give the benefit of the doubt, but as soon as Yun-Jin tries to boss her around in a trial, she withdraws into her shell. Cheryl has unresolved issues with women in power and isn't about to let Yun-Jin use her as a pawn in whatever game she's playing.

Felix can tell at first glance that he won't get along with the woman. Yun-Jin's gaudy outfits and arrogant attitude scream new money, reminding him of difficult clients he hated working with. He respects her drive for her job, but that's where their similarities end.

Élodie, having the freshest memory of what it's like to be the newest arrival in this terrifying realm, is the first to befriend Yun-Jin. Though they're from completely different worlds, both are mature enough to recognize the other's struggles, gradually forming a hesitant friendship.