#someone's gotta bear this burden

[rk-striker-jk-5]

You know, I like Hot Rod in the 1986 movie. I don't like the 1986 movie, but I like Hot Rod. He's a good kid overall. And it's kinda interesting/sad that he's one of the best damned deconstructions of the Chosen One archetype I've ever seen.

He beats Unicron! He's got the Matrix! He's the Chosen One even more than Optimus Prime! Great... except Hot Rod 1. has no training in government 1. has no willingness to really learn and 3. really, really chafes and dislikes being in charge.

And we see it in season three. I know some folks might point to individual episodes where he starts learning... but it never sticks. He never wanted the job, and he hates it. The Decepticons should be a nuisance at best after the movie and being led by someone certifiably insane, but they still remain a big threat to the Autobots. Relations with Earth got more than a bit tense in some episodes like Burden Hardest to Bear. He's gotta be overall miserable.

It's actually one of the things I hate about the Matrix. Optimus Prime didn't need some divinely-anointed disco ball to lead. He was the leader by being awesome at it.

[lapis-lights]

Chapter 03 | Kiss the Skin From My Lips

'Falling From Grace' Series

[Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader]

Song Title: Call Me What You Like by Lovejoy

Content Warnings: NSFW (18+ ONLY), Unprotected p in v, Porn with feelings, Creampie, Some dirty taking but nothing too intense, The lovers in enemies to lovers

Word Count: 14.1k

Author's Notes: Chapter three of the Falling From Grace series! Sooooo....this is really my first time attempting a smut scene so criticism would be really appreciated if you have any! Otherwise, I hope you guys like this chapter :)

Posts are scheduled for 8 a.m. EST every day until the series is complete!

Series Masterlist

Ao3

Summary: As tensions ride high between you and Leon, you execute your first infiltration mission of the J.I.E. lab. What you find inside is more than just a few simple monsters, but rather a life or death situation and an experience that leaves you and Leon absolutely breathless.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

And you can kiss the skin from my lips if it makes you feel good... I'm not sure if you want it; I'm not sure if you need me too.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

When you wake up, there's a deep ache in your bones and you think sourly of how you're getting on in your years. 

At this point, don't people start planning their retirement homes or something? You've led anything but a normal life so really, you wouldn't know, but from what you've heard, it's gotta be something along those lines. When did your twenties end and your thirties begin?

Jesus Christ, you've let yourself go.

You start your morning routine, ignoring Leon who's still happily snoring away, and taking a trip down to the first floor to the gym room. There's some flimsy equipment down there and it's definitely not the high quality stuff you get at actual gyms or at the J.I.E.'s professional training programs, but you'll have to make do for now. 

You start with simple stretches to warm up as you ponder everything that has happened last night. 

You think about the way Ada had looked and by proxy, Leon. He's never mentioned her to you ever so you suspect there must be a reason for that. Maybe he wanted to protect her from you in case you decided to go on a rampage or something, but that didn’t make sense either. Was Leon into the type of woman that could fend for herself or did he just care if she was a looker or not?

If that’s the case, you were definitely crossed off the list. The scar tissue bears a heavy burden. 

You lose yourself in the familiar burn of exercise and it feels oddly good to hurt in the ways that tell you your efforts weren’t going to waste. Eventually, this moment of peace will come to an end just like all good things, but right now, you stay in the intensity of your workout. You don’t even notice the door opening.

It’s a guy you haven’t seen before, clean shaven and muscular. You can tell he keeps himself fit but whether it’s for work or just for show, you don’t know. He doesn’t look bad at all with dark doe eyes and light brown hair that sweeps across his forehead enticingly. 

“I didn’t know pretty girls vacationed here,” he says and you rip your eyes away from the floor to meet his. What little respect you had deluded yourself into making for him bleeds away and in a split decision, you decide to play with him just a little.

“And I didn’t know good-looking men frequented these parts,” you fire back, batting eyelashes and giving him the most innocent look you can muster. “No need to flatter. I’m sure you could pull someone better than lil’ old me.”

“Don’t put yourself down so fast, babe,” he snorts, heading for the weights and you mentally roll your eyes as you see his intent to try and impress you with reps. 

However, you keep up the disguise and take a seat on a nearby medicine ball while watching him carefully. “I’m not putting myself down–it’s the truth.”

He doesn’t answer but he does make sure to put extra emphasis on choosing a fairly heavy hand weight and beginning to rep without any warm up. Silently, you know he’ll pull a muscle eventually and all for a woman he’ll likely never see in his life again. Womanizers like him never made much sense to you, but you suppose human instincts can make people irrational at the best of times.

“So you got a boyfriend?” he asks and you hum.

Would you? Should you?

“Nobody you need to worry yourself over,” you decide on answering, which wasn’t much far from the truth itself in all honesty. “Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know if there’s anybody keeping me from taking you out.”

“You’re at a hotel,” you scoff. “Do you have anybody waiting for you back in your room?”

“Nobody you need to worry yourself over,” he grins.

So he did come here with someone. How disgusting. You’re not the most morally correct person in the world, but even you understand the basic agreement of being in a relationship, and furthermore, you kow the importance put on the concept of loyalty. Well…you know how it’s supposed to be.

“Right,” you sigh, “and what are you proposing we do?”

His eyes flash suggestively and if you had the energy, you’d projectile vomit. “I’d take you out for a real nice dinner then bring you back to mine so we could-”

He shuts up when the door flies open and Leon strides in so confidently you forget that he’s supposed to be back at the suite stuck in dreamland. However, the stormy glance he gives you is nothing compared to the downright murderous glare he directs at the guy you hadn’t bothered to get the name of.

"Woah, man," the guy says, blissfully unaware. "You must be riled up for a serious workout."

"No," Leon answers, voice clipped and tight in a way you've never heard him before. "I was just looking for my wife who happened to get a headstart in her day without me."

The guy's face pales when he motions to you and you shrug non committedly before getting up and opening the door that leads out. Leon is hot on your heels as you make your way out and it's not long before he's gripping your wrist and pulling you back to stop your stride.

"Mind telling me what the fuck that was?" He demands, keeping his voice just quiet enough to not disturb the other residents.

"I was having fun," you hum, "since you're providing no entertainment for me."

"You can't just go wandering off where I can't see you."

"I'm not a child."

“Of course you’re not, but you’re practically a walking target for any undercover agent,” he sighs as you wrench your hand from his grasp and scowl. “You scared me is all.”

The sentiment might’ve been sweeter if your brain didn’t remind you of his latenight amorous meeting with Ada and it sours your whole mood even further. Long gone is that steadily growin soft spot and it only gets replaced by stone cold bitterness. Had the world always been this dark?

You spin on your heel and ignore the confused sound Leon makes as he follows closely like he’s afraid he’ll lose you again.

“You’re losing your edge, Kennedy,” you sniff dismissively.

“What?”

“Isn't this all some complex business partnership to you?” The walk to the room seems to drag on longer than you like and the nagging feeling of his eyes on you makes you want to scream, cry, and break all at once.

“Where the hell did you get that idea from?” he asks as if this whole thing would be any different than past encounters.

You ignore him, approaching the suite and unlocking the door with your keycard and pushing through roughly, not waiting for any protest from Leon. Your brain flies with so many unanswered questions and they’re so loud that you want to fall to your knees and beg them to stop.

Unable to take it anymore, you whirl around and he almost runs into you from the abrupt halt.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?!” You demand, bordering on a plea but he doesn’t need to know how deep the desperation went. 

His dark eyebrows knit in confusion. “Like what?”

“Like–” you struggle to form a coherent line of thought, “–with those eyes.”

You know you don’t make much sense but you can see it register in his expression, dusty blue darkening into electric and the atmosphere rapidly shifts from one emotion to another. He’s so close now, less than an arm's reach away, and he looks at you from beneath his lashes in a way that’s enough to drive you to insanity.

Why was he doing this? How was he doing this? How was Leon of all people drawing you in deep enough to get under your skin? How could he command the tension between you like it was a simple race down a one-way street and simultaneously provide no context behind his motives?

Why did Ada come by last night and how did she know who he was? How did she know you?

These questions sprout one after another like those depressing time loop videos of flowering plants. He answers none of them and it’s only all the more infuriating.

“Leon,” you swallow harshly and stand your ground. “What do you want from me?”

The question is left hanging in the air, an unoccupied noose. It’s intimidating, dread on your shoulders like a heavy burden as you wait for an answer that never comes. Leon just looks at you like he was waiting for you to come to some revelation and answer the question for yourself but no such reason comes forth.

Ridiculous. 

He does nothing, and his nonchalant exterior only makes you more infuriated and frustrated with the sensation of talking to the equivalent of a brick wall. Instead, Leon’s eyes flick around your face as if he was soaking every detail, absorbing as much as he could. You watch him warily like a hawk, wondering just how much longer the two of you could dance around this issue of unspoken feeling and silent motive.

Then, his eyes travel down to your mouth in a way you would’ve missed if you blinked. Your lips part as his tongue darts out to wet his own, the muscle gliding along his skin and leaving a light sheen of saliva behind.

The movement is miniscule but addicting all the same, and you’re almost knocked breathless with the urge to pull him close just to get his hands on your body. You want to kiss him so badly until his lips swell with the imprint of yours and his passion matches to suit your own. You want the taste of that spearmint gum he always carries around and the aura of alcohol that always stays with him no matter where he goes. 

Craving flares in your stomach as tears well in your eyes, confused and angry as to why this was happening now.

Did Leon know how much he was torturing you? Was he just pupeteering you around just to leave you cold and alone like your family, friends, and past lovers did? You wouldn’t be able to handle that–you can feel it. That would be your breaking point, your hamartia. 

Your death.

It takes all of your strength to pull away from him and his hypnotic spell though you’re not sure if he even had an inkling of the self-torment you’re undergoing with this new revelation.

He doesn’t stop you as you escape onto the balcony, slamming the sliding door closed, and gulping in the oxygen like you held your head underwater too long.

An ugly sob rips from your throat and self-loathing burns bright and hot in your gut. The heat is almost too much to handle as you hate yourself for allowing yourself to cry like this over something so miniscule and especially because of something Leon had done. He doesn’t even have the audacity to be sorry.

Still, emotions are nothing new even if your understanding of love is so warped beyond repair. You’re stronger than this. You’re better. You have to be.

Your knees give out and you have no choice but to fall onto one of the patio chairs and let the numbness spread through your body. The tears begin drying tracks on your cheeks as new ones follow the path of the old, but you don’t have the heart or energy to wipe them away.

What were your feelings about Leon truly? It’s obvious you don’t hate him as much as you had before and the thought of him dying now scares you more than ever. There’s still some old hate there, just behind your ribcage just waiting to explode outward again, but dulled by an entirely new portion of your brain. 

The portion of your brain that wants to kiss him. The one that wants Leon to take you out on dates and make jokes as your husband and admire him under the golden lighting of the sun. The one that charges into your old self with a fierce snarl and starts a battle for your wishes and dreams. 

Your head hits the back of the chair and you screw your eyes shut, trying to make sense of the whole entire thing. 

Nothing but the image of that desolate and dead landscape from your dream comes to mind. You can still hear the rolling thunder and cracking lightning as if it had happened right in front of your eyes. You can still feel the sticky blood on your hands and the metallic scent permeating the air as lifeless eyes had stared up at you.

Devoid of passion. Devoid of anything.

Is that what you wanted–what you wished for? Is that your happy ending? 

Somehow–for some inexplicable and unknown reason–you don't think so.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Guns weigh heavy in your palms, but in a cruel twist of fate, it also means home.

The power to kill someone lying in a variety of sizes are the only way to survive in your profession. That much is obvious. You've been through the same song and dance a million times over and then some–so this? This is nothing new. 

Tensions have been high in the suite as you do your level best to avoid Leon while confined to such a small space with him. Over the past couple of days, your interactions have lasted with only a few clipped words and making plans to infiltrate the lab you'd found in the clothing department dressing room. Today was the day you'd decided to put your plans into action despite how poorly they've been communicated.

You know for tag team missions like this, communication is vital. However, you can't bring yourself to care. Being dealt potential death seems much better than having to face Leon and grapple with the warring thoughts tugging between wanting to end him and wanting more with him. He doesn't make it any easier.

He's not bitter. The exterior he puts up paints him as a grumpy middle-aged man whose experiences have only made him all the more angry at the world. You know him better than that, though. That's just how he is naturally, and if he was anything but that, you would know best how to spot the signs. However, this new attitude of his is something you’ve never encountered before so it’s hard to pinpoint just exactly what state of mind he was in.

Over the course of just a couple days, you find yourself struggling to hold on to that composure you worked so hard to craft. Leon leaves you alone and allows you to have your space, but even then, it takes all of your willpower just to not stare openly. 

You indulge yourself late at night when his breathing deepens and your thoughts are just between you and whatever potential god there was. There were nights where your thoughts run rampant and take whatever chance you allow to admire him. You wish that there was something more between you emotionally and nothing physically. You want that sensation of his body on yours and what that might entail, and you want him deeper than you ever have before.

Shamefully, you wonder if he would burn just as deliciously as you imagined or if it would be more just because it's Leon. Would that controlled blaze turn into a wild forest fire under his advances? Would he steal your breath away roughly or would he take his unrelenting time to savor you all? Would he aim to watch tears roll down your cheeks or would he kiss them all away with whispers of sweet nothings?

Your enemy, putting you at the mercy of his hands and body, was a thought you kept sealed away tightly. Nobody could ever know about it.

When the morning came, you had checked your back and was delighted upon knowing that the wound had healed thanks to the full effect of Leon's questionable herbs. You'd put on your tactical gear over it, stretching to get the blood flowing and downing a coffee for good measure. 

While he's in the bathroom, you check over your weapons once more and make sure all of your guns are loaded and stocked. Running out of ammo has been the reason for near-death multiple times so it’s especially crucial that you don’t make that mistake today.

Alone with your thoughts, you finally grapple with what you’re trying to do today.

For so many years, the J.I.E. had silenced you and molded your mind and body into a perfect little war soldier under the pretenses that you were making the world a better place. You’d been a fool, blind to the millions of deaths that were paying for the price of a few lives until that veil was snatched away and revealed the horrors of humanity to you.

Your eyes shut as you remember the chains, rubbing your wrists raw as you were forced into discipline. The memory of cold metal kissing your skin before breaking through it, promising worse if you hadn’t obeyed was fresh as a morning bloom in your head. Your own screams had sounded like they were from someone else, leaving your throat torn and your vocal cords frayed. 

Leon would never know the extent of the pain you had gone through, even if he’s the only one that knew the basics. You were afraid of what he would think of that–of you.

He emerges finally ready and you stare wordlessly at him. A silent understanding passes between you and the two of you jump into action. 

The car ride there is a blur. Despite having walked before on your small outing when you first got here, you'd figured it would be much easier to have a getaway vehicle ready and parked a couple blocks away just in case. The store opened early, and just in time for you to sneak in inconspicuously.

Avoiding employees was easy, especially after you had swiped a keycard from the manager’s stand upon finding it carelessly abandoned. 

The dressing rooms were easy enough to get into and you led Leon into the one that you had changed in while you tried on that pretty little dress he recommended. It’s only been a few days but that night feels like it was so long ago, especially with how many cycles of emotions you’ve been subjected to since then. 

Upon removing the middle panel, holding the keycard up to the gray block causes a loud click to sound out that notifies the door has been unlocked. Uneasily, you breathe in deeply and push in. 

The interior is something you’re familiar with since it took on a similar appearance to that of the lab you’d been assigned to. However, the layout is foreign so it’s a toss in the air as to where anything could possibly be. The walls are lined with thick cords that are warm to the touch and the vibration of the lab's electricity current hums under your feet. You take out your handgun, keeping your finger off the trigger but staying alert all the same. 

Leon fires off a shot and you whirl around just in time to see a camera falling to the ground brokenly. 

The initial entrance is a straight shot but eventually you reach a hub of sorts where there are multiple tunnels branching off into different directions. Above them are signs that list the area of interest that each one led down to, ranging from dormitories to experimentations. The offices were the most dangerous to try and breach since multiple people working meant a bigger crowd to try and disperse if you got caught, though you're convinced that this place must be overrun like an ant colony.

"Where do we go from here?" Leon asks and your stomach flips. 

You haven't heard him speak since your fallout a few days ago so it's an emotional whiplash being reminded of what exactly the most miniscule things about him do to you. Things that shouldn't elicit such reactions, making your skin spark with invisible electricity and putting your brain on high alert when he so much as breathes heavier.

"Anywhere we go is gonna be crawling with workers," you answer, keeping your composure. "They're usually confined to their assigned station for the whole day before being let off to go home. We should try and go to one that has the least amount of people or the biggest advantage for us."

"Where do you propose that might be?"

You look up at the labels above the tunnels before settling on one. "The observation deck. They use it to record the progress of their bioweapons and monitor any potential dangers they might pose so they're on a tight schedule. We might be able to find something about what they're doing there."

He nods and together, you make your way through the tunnel, shooting down any more security cameras you see and testing for any potential defense mechanisms they might have installed. It's eerily quiet besides the atmospheric noises and suspicion rises in your mind as you wonder why you haven't seen anybody thus far in your journey. You'd expected a flood of scientists or at least one assassination attempt as soon as you stepped inside, but maybe this wasn't as uptight as the lab you were at.

The observation deck was a series of catwalks crossing over a large arena, presumably where they let their bioweapons roam free while they stayed a safe height away from it. From where you entered, it happens to be in the 4th level, though the platforms stretch to multiple stories above your head. It looked almost similar to the pictures of the lab beneath the white house that Wilson had hidden away with the whole incident with Jason, though this one lacked any chemical experiments in the middle. 

“Let’s go,” you whisper, pointing up to a space encased in glass. “They might have reports we can get into over there.”

Just as you go to begin walking, the static cracking of a speaker jumping to life immediately halts your steps. Leon whips around, pushing his back to yours as you defensively cover each other with your guns at the ready. There’s no telling where the speaker might be or where it was located, but the fact that it was active at all is a problem.

Then, the crackling dissipates and the voie comes through, muffled by the poor quality of a microphone.

“So you’ve finally made it,” the voice purrs through the intercom. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Neither you nor Leon answer, swiveling around and searching for any oddities while keeping your wits as the speaker crackles again and clears.

“Unfortunately, we don’t appreciate outsiders much, Agent (L/n). You should know that more than anybody.”

You grit your teeth, trying not to let their words get underneath your skin. 

“Ah, well. You were a valuable asset to us. It’s so unfortunate we’ll have to do some clean-up, so to speak.” 

Beneath you, something crashes against the wall with a violent boom and the dark growl of something massive reverberates through the whole entire room. A sick sort of dread grows as you look down before glancing back at Leon who’s sharing the same thought process as you are. It’s not that hard to deduce what would happen next, and silently, you pray to whatever’s out there that you would make it out of this thing alive. 

“You really need to work on your speeches, pal,” Leon snaps and you would’ve laughed if you weren’t stuck in such a precarious and unpredictable situation. 

“And you need to work on your manners, Mr. Kennedy,” the voice cackles, all ugly and sounding like they were hacking up a lung. “You’ll be regretting those words when you’re dead. Entertain the animal for me, will you?”

The speaker clicks off just as a metal door below flies off its hinges and nearly blows through the wall of the arena below. You break from the formation you and Leon had set up to look down at what you’re up against and your eyes widen with horror. It’s got multiple appendages whipping out from every limb, taking on the sick appearance of some mutated spider. Multiple eyes glow yellow as it glances around before zeroing in on you above it.

“Leon,” you mumble, backing up and he only gets a sparse good look at what you're up against before he’s grabbing your wrist and sprinting down the catwalk. 

The beast screeches upon seeing its target on the move and one of those long arms shoots upward to latch onto the railing of the walkway. You just barely make it onto safe ground before it’s yanked away and the whole path crashes to the ground. Panic curls in your chest as you remember what had happened the last time you had faced off a bioweapon, and you start running after Leon once you gain your bearings.

All along the sides are countless offices that hold large filing cabinets, though they hardly matter in this chase scene. The monster hisses, spitting something before launching upward and beginning to climb the walls rapidly towards you. You’re able to deter it with a couple well-aimed shots to its head but, it only makes it angrier as well.

Once it’s up, your stomach jumps into your throat upon seeing that the thing is almost twice as tall as you are. It lumbers toward you with a hiss as it secretes acid that burns into the ground. Leon stops in front of you, pulling out a rifle and pressing the scope to his eye. You’re confused as to what his approach is until he shoots and the monster reels back in pain with a scream. When you look, you see that he’s hit one of the multiple grotesque eyeballs that embed along the legs of the mutated spider. It’s not hard to see where Leon was going with this so you take out your own rifle to join him.

Gunshots ring in your ears as you and Leon rain down hellfire, backing away every so often to put distance between you and the bioweapon. 

Leon runs up a flight of stairs before shoving himself into a crevice that's only large enough to fit one. You stumble up after him and turn onto another catwalk, looking back and almost vomiting. The ugly monster's wounds are leaking pus that chews holes into the ground it walks on, eyes flicking wildly before finding you–entirely missing Leon–and heading frantically in your direction.

Of fucking course they made all of its bodily fluids acidic. What else would you expect?

You switch out your rifle for a magnum and shoot around Leon as he brings up the rear. He works on picking off the rest of the leg eyeballs while you set to getting the fucker right in between it's menacing yellow eyes. The recoil is almost unfamiliar, but you swiftly get back into the rhythm of handling the weapon, walking back before reaching to your tactical utility belt and yanking off an incendiary grenade. 

You pull the pin, throw it, and shield your eyes from the burst of flames that erupt and start licking along the spider's body. It shrieks so ungodly loud that you would've almost clapped your hands around your ears if you didn't remember where you were and what your goal was. You reload your magnum as quickly and accurately as you can manage, and keep shooting. Leon sprints out, using the weakened legs as leverage to swing himself onto its back and start stabbing it with the combat knife he'd been hiding. 

He's a genius and lunatic all at once.

You suppose this must be nothing new to him since Leon's faced who knows how many bioweapons at this point, but this is your first time seeing it up close and personal. He fights like it's second nature–like he's simply just breathing. It's mesmerizing to watch, but the moment is over when he gets thrown off into your direction and lands heavily in front of you directly onto his arm with a pained grunt.

You wince, hoping that it hasn't been broken or dislocated, reaching out and hauling him to his feet when he accepts your hand. Together, you keep shooting as Leon pulls the pin on a hand grenade and throws it at the spider's feet. You halt, palms covering your ears as it flashes multiple times then explodes, taking the mutated monster down with it. 

Organs go flying everywhere and you duck to avoid the majority splatter of the acidic blood. The explosion causes a creak and only the middle portion of the catwalk sinks before crumbling down into the wreckage already created by the first ruined walkway. 

Leon stands up, panting heavily as he looks down into the mess below that has sparked a fire and was burning merrily as if you hadn't just killed a man-made monster. Speaking of which, whose body had joined the metal below and had speared onto the sharp pieces that jutted out like a homemade spike pitfall trap. 

He turns to you, going to open his mouth to say something but is rapidly silenced by a creaking groan and then he shouts in panic when the ground beneath his feet gives way. You gasp, lunging forward and grabbing his hand on instinct as the portion of the walkway falls into the void below and he's left dangling precariously from a fatal height with only you to hold onto. 

He glances down then back up at you, desperation in his eyes as you both come to the same realization and conclusion. 

You could kill him right now.

All you had to do was let go and it would all be over as if this never happened. He would be out of your hair and all that torment he subjected you to would dissipate like cotton candy subjected to water. This would all end if you would just take the chance to drop him into that dangerous trap where you would never have to see him again, never have to worry about him again. You could drop him and turn away without a second glance to see if he survived or not.

Leon’s eyes flash and you know exactly what it is despite never seeing it before. It’s pure unadulterated fear, with his life hanging in the balance of someone who had expressed distaste for him a healthy amount of times and whose certainly not favorable towards him in any way at the moment. Even if he saved your life, were you so willing to give up this once-in-a-lifetime chance?

You have the high ground now.

You determine his fate.

You could end it all right now by just yanking your hand away and taking back everything you had done to improve your relationship with him. 

Your heart thuds marathons in your ears as all your muscles twitch and have a war in your mind. The thoughts curl and shriek around each other, fighting for what they believed the right thing to do was and it felt like the whole world was watching you for some sort of revolutionary choice.

You wince, knowing what your decision is.

Hauling Leon up, your legs burn as you lift his weight from the ledge and onto safe ground, rolling away when he finally lands on the stable ground that the catwalk had been attached to. Your lungs beg for air and you pant, faintly registering what just happened as you ride out that high of adrenaline. Leon must be out of it if he hasn't made a sarcastic quip about almost dying.

"We need to get to safety," you say, shakily getting to your feet and almost stumbling back down from the shock factor.

He only nods and you reach out to help him up. Even though you didn’t drop him to his untimely death, he looks at you warily before accepting the offer, almost falling to his knees again before you shoot forward and catch him. His body heat radiates through your skin and your cheeks set ablaze at the proximity even as you sling one of his arms around your shoulders and support some of his weight as you begin walking.

“There’s a safe room I saw on the way while we were running,” you mumble, avoiding making any sort of eye contact. “We can go over there and make sure you’re not hurt.”

“What about you?” He rasps and it leaves you wondering why he’s so adamant about the state of your health when he’s just looked death between the eyes.

You laugh breathlessly, almost sarcastically if you weren’t still riding the high of that fading adrenaline. “Don’t worry about me.”

You and Leon make your way to one of the cubicles, and you set him down carefully on the office chair that he manages to unceremoniously slump into. It’s clear that his almost-death is impacting him, though you now well that this isn’t the first time he’s had a touch of the afterlife. It really did make you wonder what about this time made it any different. 

While he squeezes his eyes shut and massages the shoulder he’d landed on, you reach into your bag and pull out a first aid spray for him to use when he’s ready before standing and taking in your environment. The computer is innocently waiting on the stand with the J.I.E. logo set as the wallpaper, and there’s a filing cabinet that you try to open. It doesn’t give way and you mumble out a curse under your breath as you start poking around the desk drawers for a possible key.

Leo pops the top off the spray bottle and starts healing his wounds while you flip through various pages inside. Most of them are unhelpful and just detailing things you already knew until you tumble on a report for the spider you had just killed.

You put it into a manila folder that you put in your bag, rummaging around more until you find a hidden compartment that holds the key to the file cabinet. Upon opening the locked drawer, you find reports on agents–including your own–and details on the imports and exports the company had been engaging in. 

Then, you hit the jackpot.

First and foremost was a folder of maps that laid out every level and room there was in the entirety of the lab. Then, there was a large binder that recorded every experiment the J.I.E. had engaged with the creation of their bioweapons, even detailing a new virus that they were meddling with. You flip through, finding monster after monster that has failed and succeeded. For now, this would be enough until you could figure out a plan using the map and going over the particulars of the experiments.

“We should go now,” you decide. “This is more than enough to figure out where we’re going and what we’re up against.”

Silence.

The lack of response causes you to turn around and peer questioningly at Leon who just nods mindlessly and gets up. He doesn’t meet your eyes and this attitude only makes you all the more confused. What had gotten into him?

Nonetheless, he follows as you make your way to an elevator that you go up in to return to the main hub that you had entered through. You suppose that nobody had watched you through the cameras and just automatically assumed you were being taken care of by the spider bioweapon since it's still suspiciously dead silent. 

You still stay alert, and if you hadn't been so on edge, Leon would've walked right into the wire trap that had been meticulously strung across the tunnel. You pull him back sharply without thinking, fingers lacing with his as you yank.

He grunts as you pull away, going to carefully disarm it, figuring this was their way of alarming anybody you made it out alive. The explosion surely would have let someone know that there were two unauthorized people still running around, so it was good you had seen the thin wire and the two dark devices flashing red lights. Then again, you'd expected Leon to be just as attentive as you were to your surroundings. 

Something was bothering him. Seeing him like this wasn't helping you much either, dying to know just what had him so distracted. 

The two of you finally make it to the exit carefully pushing outward into the dressing room whose door had been locked when the two of you entered to prevent anybody seeing things they shouldn't be. A quick pack of wet wipes is enough to make yourselves look decent enough to not look like you’d been playing around in dirt and gunpowder, and you make plans to shower once you got back to the hotel.

All throughout your way back, Leon still stays infuriatingly silent from the lab to the suite, and the question as to why teases the tip of your tongue. 

You get inside, let him know you're going to run yourself a bath, and retreat to the restroom as you sigh out with a whimper almost escaping in the process. In the solitude of your own thoughts, you finally let yourself feel that pain and anguish and confusion that you always hold back in the presence of Leon.

Fighting didn’t help at all. If anything, it only made it all the worse feeling guilt or something akin to it.

Would he ever tell you about Ada or was that just something you would have to figure out for yourself? Could you ever be closer to him knowing that he had said you meant nothing to him? It must be true if he had said it without expecting you to hear, and somehow, that sentiment causes a stabbing pang in your chest. It’s a wonderful and horrible thing–wanting someone so badly but knowing they would never want you back.

It’s a bittersweet taste on your tongue with a pungent aftertaste stinging your tastebuds, dooming yourself in the process.

Emotions were always so easy to stomp down and kill before. What about this whole ordeal could possibly make this any different?

Some dark part of your mind whispers that you know. You know what this provocative emotion is that makes your head spin and act irrationally, but you’d die before ever admitting it out loud. This may as well be worse than a death penalty–or rather, it is your death penalty. 

The sound of rushing water acts as a soothing white noise until the tub is full and submerging yourself in the warm water causes a sigh of relief to fly past your lips in a gentle exhale. You take your time, washing your hair and massaging fingers into your scalp to help focus on releasing all of that tension that has built up over the past few days. The water turns gray from all that built up grime and dust and the soapy suds merely adds to the discoloration once you actually start scrubbing.

Once you’re done, you feel more human, more in control. The thoughts have quieted, and you finally start to feel like you can get a grasp on yourself again. You think you’re ready to see Leon and just simply resign to the watching the city on the balcony or going to sleep early like the past few days have allowed you. You can live with this. You can do it.

Once this is all said and done, you can part ways. You can forget him.

You could…

You have to. Right?

You step out, steam chasing after you as if beckoning you back into its warm embrace and you find Leon staring out the window mindlessly. You get hit with deja vu as it reminds you of the first morning you’d gotten here and watched the sunrise together. That was when you were nothing more than unlikely but eager allies. Now? You don’t know what you are. 

You don’t want to be the one that wants him while he just wants the entertainment. You’re smarter than that.

“Hey,” you call out and he turns slightly, acknowledging you. The atmosphere turns slightly awkward when he provides no verbal answer. “I’m just going to go sit outside for a bit since I guess you want to be alone right now. If you need me, I’ll be-”

"Stop."

His command makes the words fade from your tongue and you swallow harshly. The first words he’s spoken to you since asking how you were at the lab are spoken roughly, making your heart drop into your stomach. When had you started listening to him when he ordered you around? You weren't one of his rookies or agents on his team, but right now, you were completely and totally at the mercy of whatever he might do.

"Why did you save me?" He asks tightly, turning around and finally getting a good look at you in an oversized t-shirt with pajama shorts barely peeking out from underneath the hem. His eyes wander and he swallows harshly. "You could have killed me–ended this feud and finally been the hero of this whole story. Why did you do it?"

You don't have to think about the answer, but it's shameful. After giving him the cold shoulder upon hearing him with Ada and sealing your emotions in a tight little glass bottle, they come spilling out now for Leon to pick through and judge. 

"I don't want you to die," you whisper, taking a step back, afraid of whatever he might say. 

He moves toward you at an excruciatingly slow pace, expression unreadable and more intimidating than the literal bioweapon you had survived just hours ago. You match his footfalls backward and you think this fear must be what prey feels like when death has locked eyes on it.

"I can't–We can talk about this, yeah?” You try explaining, wondering if there was any possibility you could talk your way out of this. “It doesn't matter–not really. We just…"

You're rambling now, trying to find an excuse to stop those blue eyes from piercing your soul and peeling away every layer of defense you've built up. He keeps getting closer and you're running out of room to escape to. You've never been more scared of him than in this moment–even when he almost killed you the day you met, you've never felt like this. A deer in the headlights, electricity coursing through your nerves as your brain struggles to choose between fight or flight. 

Did he know? Did he know about all those lingering gazes and words that held guilt behind them and all those emotions that you weren't supposed to be having clogging up your chest?

Your back hits a wall and you're fucked.

Leon's hand finds your waist when he's close enough, your skin rushing hot as his breath fans your face and you smell spearmint. It's addicting. He's addicting. Your heartbeat rushes in your ears, pounding anxiously as the nerves in your body light up like a Christmas tree.

When he speaks, it’s all low tones and so fucking attractive.

"Sweet girl," he murmurs, affectionately raw in a way you never would've imagined him to be. His other hand comes up, cupping your jaw delicately and all the blood rushes to your face.

He's called you many things before, and has used more than enough adjectives to convey this disdain for you. Annoying, disgusting, naive, revolting, repulsive…but never in a million years would he have called you sweet. You must be dreaming, and if you are, you never want to wake up.

"I'm actually a very indulgent creep," you wheeze out and barely conceal a whimper. "Leon, you-"

He cuts you off as his lips press onto yours and all rational thought leaves your brain in an instant. His mouth molds to yours, fingers on your waist mindlessly beginning to run circles as he presses heavily onto you as if this is what’s been wanting just as much as you. All you can feel is him, his hands on your body, his mouth working your own in such a sinful way that makes your head spin and your stomach do cartwheels.

You close your eyes, let yourself fall from grace, and plummet.

His tongue licks into your mouth and you moan as he presses you further into the wall as if it were possible. His grip turns almost bruising on your skin as he guides the hand that had been caressing your waist down to your thigh, prompting your leg to wrap around him. When you get the hint, he uses the momentum to haul you up and you squeak as he gets his arm underneath you with ease and stabilizes you. 

Leon laughs breathlessly, and he kisses on your neck. Your fingers thread through his brunette locks while you work on refilling your lungs with air. This small hint of joy–this humorous moment in something so tense–is what really matters. You can’t believe this is happening, but the way his touch burns is more than enough of an indicator that this is real.

He moves with you in his arms like you weigh nothing. Leon lets you down onto the hotel suite's bed gentle enough to not hurt you but still rough enough that you bounce from the buoyancy of the memory foam. Your back hits the mattress and everything seems to fall into place the way it should be.

Leon's hands are all over you, trailing from your hips to your stomach and up to your chest. The touch of his palms burns your skin like trails of heated lava pleasantly oozing along your veins. He burns so brightly but yet so so good. Leon hikes up your shirt, exposing your stomach to the cool air that blows across your burning body as his tongue pries your mouth open again. You hum in satisfaction as his wet muscle curls around yours hotly and arousal sparks in your gut as you feel slick just starting to begin pooling uncomfortably in your panties.

He pulls away, kissing the corner of your mouth as he pants, your legs still straddling around him even while you lie down. He looks so fucking pretty. 

"Cat got your tongue?" He teases and you kick him lightly in the back with your heel. 

"You wish," you retort mockingly. "You're all bark and no bite."

Leon raises an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

You smile, something genuine and soft and so beautifully crafted just for him. "It's whatever you want it to be."

"Then let me tell you how I want it to be." His hot breaths fan across your skin and you really do feel like you're already burning as his fingers pull your shirt further and further up your torso. 

"Go ahead," you pull him closer, noses bumping together as you press a feather-light kiss to the stubble on his cheek. "I'm listening."

"I want you underneath me," he admits it like he's in a confessional, but whatever this is is far from holy. "I want to hear how you sound when I make you feel good, sweetheart." He nips at your neck, soothing the tiny burn with the flat of his tongue. "Can I do that for you? Will you let me?"

You wouldn’t just hand everything over to him on a silver platter. A little teasing never hurts, right?

"I don't know," you hum, though every instinct in you screams to submit just so he can do whatever he wants with you. "All this just for a little entertainment? You sure do go all out, Kennedy."

"Is that what you think this is?" He pulls away and you almost protest at the lack of contact until you get a good look at his expression. Something like sadness and doubt lining those electric blue eyes that you've come to stare at for hours. 

You don’t like the sudden shift in atmosphere so you shake your head in hopes of clearing those shadows away from his head. “Of course not–I’m sorry. That was a bad choice of wording on my part.”

He laughs, nervous and still lingering with some semblance of unease. “You sure know how to keep me on my toes.”

“I haven’t been this close with someone in a while,” you admit and shift your eyes to a random spot on the ceiling, trying to ignore the giddy feeling that came from him still hovering above you from between your legs. “You should know I’m not very…experienced or anything. I’m sorry.”

“Quit apologizing,” he chastises, fingers tilting up your chin so he can lean upward to press a warm kiss to your forehead. “I won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

You take the time to consider this, knowing that whatever was about to unfold would be something big in your relationship. It feels like there hasn’t been enough time to process your undying devotion for him or the questions that still linger behind Ada’s appearance, but you do know that this is something you can work out. This is something you want.

Still, there’s just some things you can’t let go of.

“Before I answer that,” you sigh, hating that you’re bringing down the mood with your fears. “Can I ask what Ada was doing here–what she wanted?”

Leon’s eyes take on a new emotion and his whole body tenses. You’re afraid that you’ve struck a chord he wouldn’t want to discuss and you fearfully wonder if this would sever any chance you have with him.

“You know Ada?” he asks and it’s painful when he says so. Whatever she means to him, it must not herald any good will.

“No,” you frown. “I heard you talking a few nights ago on the balcony. You…” The words don’t come off your tongue stubbornly, trying to stuff themselves back into your throat. “You said I was nobody–that I meant nothing to you. I mean, if that’s true, then what could you possibly want me for?”

The sting of it all comes rushing back in this incredibly vulnerable moment. You were never good with intense emotions nor did you have a good handle on them when they exploded outward like a volcanic eruption. It’s no surprise when the tears start threatening to fall, though you curse them and hold them back in an attempt to keep your dignity.

Leon makes a wounded noise deep from the back of his throat. 

“I was trying to protect you.”

It doesn’t make sense. “What?”

He ducks his head, and you desperately try to understand. “She’s backstabbed me more than once. I can’t count how many times Ada’s used me for her own gain, and I just–I couldn’t just let her get her hands on you that easily.”

“So…?”

“I lied,” Leon pleads, and the ice melts away from your burning heart. “You mean everything to me, (Y/n). I can’t lose you like I’ve lost everyone else.”

“Leon,” you whisper, all too vulnerable and drowning in that unnamed emotion. The answer to his questions and advances pours from your lips like a sacred waterfall, ready and yearning. “I want you. Make me feel good–I’ll let you.”

His pupils dilate and he dives back down, claiming your lips with his in a rougher kiss than the ones previously before. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair when he moves down, tugging on your shirt so that it could finally come off over your torso. The cool air blows across your hot skin, moaning when he massages the pad of his thumb around one of your nipples, and the pleasure sends your thoughts into a whirlwind. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve thought of this,” Leon murmurs, eyes slipping shut as if he was trying to map out and memorize your whole body.

You don’t get to ask what he means by that when he opens his mouth and licks the flat of his tongue wetly across your tit. Your head tilts back of its own accord, a strangled moan escaping in the process before you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise. Heated shame rushes to your cheeks as you look down, already finding Leon gazing up at you, mesmerized.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he prompts, pulling your arm away. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.”

Why was he so persistent with the pet names? If he keeps this up, you’ll be nothing more than just putty in his hands. 

“Stop,” you whine, covering your eyes like that would change anything. “You’re gonna drive me insane if you keep saying things like that.”

“Do you not like me calling you names?”

You peek through your fingers to find him all the more attentive, trying to find what you don’t like and what you want. That love, care, and attention was something you never had–never deserved. How could you tell him that he’s giving you everything you want while not discouraging him from doing so?

“It’s not that,” you swallow shamefully. “Nobody’s ever told me that. Or called me anything, for that matter. It’s just new–I think I’m trying to figure out how to handle it all.”

His expression darkens and you think he might tease you or tell you to suck it up. Instead, Leon almost growls out, “Nobody?”

You make a noise of confirmation.

“Oh, baby.” He rests his cheek on your stomach and traces patterns on your skin. “Your last partner didn’t?”

You scoff, deciding to be vulnerable just this once. “My last partner was in highschool, honey.” The pet name feels foreign, but good nonetheless. You can understand why he seems so insistent on using them with you. “Like I said–it’s been a while.”

“Even so.” He picks up his head and shakes it, moving even further down and hooking fingers into the waistband of your shorts. “They didn’t appreciate you like you deserved then.”

Your voice cracks as you rest your head back onto the pillow and whisper, “I don’t think I did.”

Down, down, down your shorts trail along your legs, leaving you in nothing but a lacy pair of underwear and all too vulnerable emotionally and physically. You make a noise of dissatisfaction, tugging on Leon’s shirt as he was still unfairly dressed. 

He chuckles and gets the hint, leaning up to throw it off as you get to admire his body. There’s multiple scars from the tussles he’s engaged in with fighting bioweapons for a living, but one in particular catches your eye. Set proudly on his shoulder is a bullet bound that looks to be years old, all knotted and improperly healed. He must’ve not had the right care available to him when he got it. Leon sees you eyeing it, and smiles, albeit a bit sadly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he urges, falling back over you and kissing you softly, leaving a peck on your chin as he keeps going down. 

“I’ll worry about it later,” you compromise.

Leon lifts one of your legs, trailing featherlight kisses down your calves and into the inside of your thighs before swapping to the other and repeating the action. You sigh blissfully, letting that arousal build like a growing fire in your belly until you absolutely need something to quell it. You need him to do it–nobody else. 

There’s nobody else in the world you would be this exposed to. There’s nobody else you need.

“Leon,” you whine, hips gyrating as the accumulated wetness has become noticeably uncomfortable. “C’mon. I’m dying here.”

He actually laughs at that–not a chuckle or a huff of a breath that you’re so used to. A laugh, warm and genuine and painting lines across his features that you commit to memory in case you can never have this moment with him again. The possibility that this is a one-time thing is terrifying, but it gives you all the more reason to savor it.

Granting you some reprieve, he finally, finally, presses a heated kiss to your clothed clit and you cry out, hips bucking up of their own accord because you needed more than just the slight touches he was teasing you with. Leon gets his hands on you, driving your pelvis down and holding it in place as he licks a heated stripe up the outside of your panties. It's a warm, wet, and wild sensation–one that gives you a taste of Heaven without actually being there.

The feel of it is enough to drown you as you struggle to writhe beneath his restraint, head tossing back and heart fluttering to the beat of hummingbird wings. Your fingers tangle in his hair instinctively and pull, earning a delicious groan from him that reverberates through the room. You’re obsessed, or something along the lines of it, and you hope this never ends.

"You're so beautiful," Leon murmurs, eyes fluttering shut before he begins yanking off your panties like they offended him personally. Your glistening core is exposed to him, positively dripping from just the small things he's given you so far. "Jesus Christ, sweet girl. Is this all from the little I've done?" 

You squeak as he positions your legs over his shoulders, breaths puffing right over your waiting cunt that impatiently pulses with the need to be filled. He still doesn't allow you much room to move and a desperate little noise makes its way from your throat as he teases you with everything you want so close yet so far. 

"Use your big girl words," he prompts gently, tilting his head so that it rests on your inner thigh. "I need to know that you want this."

"I do," you whimper immediately, trying to find solace in tweaking one of your nipples for some sort of pleasurable reprieve. All that dignity you'd been trying to preserve goes out the window. "I want you so bad, Leon. I can't take it anymore–please, please."

"Good girl," he purrs, all sultry and seductive. 

You choke on a gasp when his lips close around your folds, sucking sharply and swirling his tongue in your clit roughly. Instinctively, your hips break free and shy away from his touch, but Leon has none of it and merely pulls you back down to keep attacking your poor cunt. You moan freely, hand tugging on his hair as he laps up your arousal like a dying man and when his eyes flick up to meet yours, the fire in your belly flares.

You cry out his name, unable to vocalize or convey just how good he was making you feel. You've never had this before–this attention and euphoria.

Leon's head nods into you as his tongue fucks you deeper and you squirm under his ministrations, pushing against his face in vain as if he could grant you more than he could. He sinks his middle finger into your wet heat, tongue circling on your clit as he pumps in and out of you. The noises your pussy makes when he adds his ring finger and starts rocking them in and out of you would almost be embarrassing if you weren't so focused solely on how he was making you feel.

He eats you out like this would be his last meal, savoring the taste of you on his tongue as he fingerfucks you brutally. Experimentally, he curls his fingers up and you squeal, babbling incoherently and just settling on begging him to let you go. You can feel it building up just as he brushes against a spot deep inside you that makes you ascend, and you squeeze your eyes shut as the pleasure pricks tears in your eyes. 

He moans appreciatively, sending vibrations throughout your whole body and as you grind desperately against him. He keeps you as still as he can manage, but you're not a world-class agent for nothing. Even as Leon tries to control the thrusting of your hips upward, he also has to work on keeping your legs spread open in case you crush his head in between your thighs. 

Maybe he wouldn't object to it.

Leon pulls away, watching his fingers disappearing into you with a nonexistent resistance, cooing over your whimpers. "Does that feel good, sweet thing? Fuck, you taste amazing."

You keen at his words, face blazing hot as he momentarily takes the time to rub his wet fingers all across your folds so that cool air kisses between your thighs. "Leon!"

"You say my name so prettily," he sighs erotically, pushing his fingers back into you and scissoring harshly as he's knuckle-deep. "You gonna let me stretch you out? Gonna let me fuck you so good, all you can think about is my name?"

"Please," you whine again, and you have a feeling you'd be asking him for a lot tonight. Trying to think of any way to speed up the process so you can get what you really wanted, you whisper desperately, "Baby, I need you inside of me."

"Fuck," he hisses, voice gravelly as he begs. "Let me fuck you, angel. Let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours."

Your legs spread even wider as he works on getting his jeans off, and you eye the happy trail that takes route from his belly button and disappears into the waistband of his boxers. He's leanly muscular, though he's nothing short of attractive to you. 

To think that only a couple weeks ago, you would've killed yourself before even thinking about having sex with Leon Kennedy. Now, you think you would offer up yourself to whatever god existed just to be able to have this again–to be able to have him again. This vulnerable moment where all he wanted was to make you feel good and to hear you scream his name is something that has come straight out of your fantasies.

Fantasies during nights where you thought about touching yourself because of him but holding back because trying to hold back your noises while the man was literally sleeping in the same room was a horrendous idea. All that time you thought about what he would do to you and craving a touch you never thought you would get is paying off as he eyes you hungrily from above, licking the slick you'd left off of his fingers and palming the obvious tent in his boxers.

"You're staring," he comments slyly and you roll your eyes.

"And you're thinking about me," you accuse.

A smirk grows on his face, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes as he shuffles down the waistband of his underwear only slightly but just enough so you can see the implications of his sculpted v-line. 

"How did you know?" Leon hums and you blush furiously as if that persistent heat could burn any hotter. 

You turn your face away, unable to hold eye contact without getting flustered all over again. "Take it off before I do it for you, asshole."

"Would you?" He croons and you hide your face in your hands from the embarrassment of his unspoken words. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed, sweetheart."

It doesn't feel like you're adults right now, but rather two stupid teens getting up to something they shouldn't and acting like they were grown ups. It doesn't help the fact that you've had a playground rivalry for who knows how long, something so childish that you can't believe you'd let your icy emotions get the better of you for all those years. You can't help but wonder if this is something you could have had if you hadn't been so blind-eyed by the J.I.E. 

You feel the mattress shift beneath you and you pull your hands away from your eyes just in time to see Leon throw his discarded boxers somewhere else in the room, but it doesn't take long for your eyes to trail down. Leon's cock stands stiffly at attention, already leaking precum from the angry red tip that he hadn't even touched yet. Your mouth waters, and your hand twitches to wrap around it though you haven't had this experience for maybe over a decade. 

"See something you want?" He teases, though the words barely reach your ears as he climbs back to hover over you. 

You're crazy, and you know it by the way the words fall from your lips without a second thought. "Yeah. Was it from just…?"

His cockiness fades for a moment and his eyes soften, a genuine smile spreading across his features and lighting up his already-flushed face. "You're incredibly sexy when you're enjoying yourself, princess." You startle, and he laughs lowly, pecking your cheek. "Liked that one, huh?"

Leon kisses you deeply and you moan upon tasting yourself on his tongue as he feels up your torso and wipes a thumb over your breast. Blindly, you feel down his stomach, appreciating the definition of his well-deserved abs, and finally get a shaking hand around his dick. The action elicits a rich groan from him, even though you've barely even touched him. 

You slide your thumb across his slit, beading wetness sliding down your palm and providing the moisture you needed to stimulate him just right. Your motions aren't smooth by any means, and Leon can probably tell that you're not used to this, but he must be getting something out of it by the way his mouth drops open and his eyes screw shut with that beautiful blush spreading across his skin like wildfire. 

"Careful," he warns, but it ends with a guttural moan when your fingers brush delicately across his balls. "Shit, you're gonna make me go insane."

"It's payback, baby," you simper, groaning when he runs a finger up your folds in punishment. In revenge, you pump your hand a little faster around his length and you can feel the throbbing veins pushing into your palm. 

Leon pulls your wrist away, and you go to protest, wanting to give him more like he'd given you, but he shakes his head and cuts you off with a well-meaning kiss. "We'll do that another time, doll. Right now, it's about you."

"But-"

"C'mon," he cradles your face so gently that the words die on your tongue. "Trust me, sweetheart. I'm right here–I'm not going anywhere. Not not, not ever."

His words cause your emotions to soar, tears leaking vulnerably from your lashes and he wipes them away gently with the pads of his thumbs. Nobody ever stays like he promises and the threat of him breaking that vow hangs precariously in your mind on whether you'll truly take it to heart or not. All around you is him, hands on your body and voice floating richly in your ears. Could you have this again and again? Would he stay long enough to let you?

"Don't leave," you beg pathetically, looking up at him through shamefully teary eyes. "Just don't go."

"I promise," his forehead presses against yours as he whispers vows under the cover of this private moment with just the two of you. "I promise."

You lock your legs around his waist and pull him downward so that his cock taps impatiently against your stomach and Leon quickly gets the hint as he reaches down to pump himself a couple times in preparation. He kisses you deeply, passionately, as he lines up with your entrance and the weight of anticipation causes all the blood to rush to your head. He grinds for an agonizing moment, dick sliding between your folds tantalizingly slow before he finally gives in.

The head of his cock presses into your cunt and your mouth drops open, skin flushing as you pull him closer to get your lips on his to muffle the desperate sounds you make as he sinks inch by agonizing inch into you. Your thoughts scatter until nothing but Leon fills them and your heart beats marathons in your chest.

Your hands find his broad shoulders, hanging on for dear life as he pushes further into you as you adjust to feeling him inside of you. It's been literal years since you've last had sex and though you'd never expected it to be with Leon, it feels a lot more sentimental and pleasurable than the affairs you'd had with past partners.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good," Leon groans out, rolling his hips so that he bottoms out and the euphoria washes over you so deliciously that your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

"Le–on," his name falls brokenly from your lips, head spinning as you glance down and spot the outline of him bulging from your skin. 

Leon's forearms land on either side of your head, his nose bumping yours as his lidded eyes search yours. "Say it again. Say my name again, sweet thing." 

Fucking hell, his nicknames were going to be the death of you. 

"Leon–" you cry out when he sharply thrusts once, twice, then slowly begins setting a pace that has you seeing stars. As he adjusts to being inside of you, his speed increases in increments. You allow yourself to be loud, because right now, you could care less about dignity when Leon was just getting started.

His hips slam against you harshly, and he has you almost screaming when you can feel your plush walls hugging every vein and definition of his cock that he drags through you sweetly. His balls clap noisily against your skin and just the sound of it alone was enough to get you high and ever so closer to that sweet release. Leon's lips land on yours, kissing you roughly and the euphoria you were gifted from him abusing your hole was enough to keep you on cloud nine for at least a week. 

"Do you know how much I thought of this?" Leon grunts out, moving down so he can kiss the skin behind your ear affectionately. "Getting to fuck you so good that you don't remember anything but my name?"

His words make you whine and writhe beneath him until his hands hold your hips down so he can continue jackhammering into you at that relentless pace. You can feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix bruisingly and the fact that he's so deep inside of you is enough to leave you absolutely dripping. 

"Leon–fuck, fuck!" You cry out as he folds one of your legs up and settles your knee into the crook of his elbow, using that leverage to fuck your sweet cunt even harder. 

"All mine," he mumbles, pussy drunk and caught in a brain fog. "So fucking beautiful and all for me, yeah?"

You barely manage to hum out an affirmation but the torturous pleasure he subjects you to makes it sound borderline pornographic. Your thoughts scatter in the wind and only leave you enough sense to rack your fingers through his hair as he rocks his cock in and out of your hole, addicted to the feeling as you lose yourselves within each other. 

Higher and higher Leon takes you, licking up the column of your throat and biting hickeys into the skin of your neck as if to mark you as his. The pleasure burns brightly, a traveling firework climbing up to the sky in hope of exploding outward. This sensation–something you've never had before–is what makes you obsessed and afraid to ever let go. All those years that people came into your life and left without prompting is negated by the fact that he's stayed.

Leon stretches you into a full-on mating press, your knees kissing your chest as he fucks you deeper than before. You sob brokenly, clasping your arms around his neck and holding on for dear life as he pistons his hips harder into your dripping heat. The weight of him on your body as he works you both up to your heights drives you crazy and you can feel all that tension building up–that firework ready to burst.

"You know how pretty you looked?" He grunts out, working his thrusts as if he could go any deeper than he already was and you squeak as he gives your tit a slap. "All dolled up and wearing that pretty little dress I picked out for you? Fuck, I was so close to taking you that night."

"Leon," you whimper as those clear blue eyes bore into yours, hooded with lust and swirling with more emotion and passion than you've ever seen before. "Shit, if that's what you really think, why didn't you do this sooner?"

"Do what, sweet thing? Fuck this pretty pussy 'til I was rearranging your guts?" 

You whine submissively at his words, tugging him closer, and hiding your face in his neck. His cock ploughs into your shopping heat, fucking you like the two of you are animals. Leon swallows your gasp, tongue lolling out to beg for air until he captures your mouth and steals all the breath from your lungs. His tongue wrestles your one into submission before pulling back, a trail of saliva connecting your moist lips. 

"I wanted to," he admits vulnerably, "so many times we were alone–wanted to bring you to a quiet little place where we could forget about the missions and rivalries and show you what you were missing.."

You weren't going to last long if he kept revealing secrets like this was some sort of steamy confessional.

"I thought you hated me," you gasp, keening when his pace slows and begins favoring hitting you deep and hard over speed. Your eyes roll upward before squeezing shut and just revealing the feeling of him all around you in the best case of sensory overload. "I thought you wanted me dead where I stood."

He tilts your chin up, rutting deep into you that makes you see stars. "That cocky little girl who was unkillable, maybe. But, you showed yourself to me and there you were."

"But, you-"

"I didn't want to scare you off," he sighs, something soft that contradicts the way he's still balls deep inside you. "I was ready to kill you when you landed on my doorstep at that shitty motel, but…I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lose you."

There's a gap where he trails off, looking into your eyes as you realize that all while you scorned him and loved him, he was going through the same tortuous emotions as you. Those encounters, shooting bullets in each other's directions and painting scars through wounds was all one-sided. Leon knows you genuinely hated him in a past life as he hated you too, wished he was dead in the same way he was so close to putting a bullet through your skull, and yet he's still here.

"I did hate you." You bury your nose into his neck. "I preyed on your downfall for so many nights and loathed that you kept me alive just to prove a point."

"And now?"

You open your eyes, looking past through tears that have started to prick your lash line. Your chest swells with an emotion you haven't felt in a long while, reigniting flames on a piece of cold coal that hasn't felt the kiss of fire for so long. This feeling that has caused you so much conflict before has a name on your heart, your mind, then your tongue. 

"Now?" You reach up, brushing bangs away from his moist forehead, and bring him closer like you were telling him a secret. Your lips ghost over his as you answer. "Fuck, I love you, Leon."

That declaration seems to be the breaking point as he squishes you between his body and mattress, sinking his weight onto you as he desperately begins pounding you into the bedsheets. You moan loudly, unbidden as you relish in the feeling of Leon and trailing your fingernails down his back in angry red lines. The pleasure tips you into overdrive, and you almost scream as you feel yourself just beginning to tip over the edge.

“Leon, I,” you stutter and his hips never break stride, seemingly spurred on by the implication of your words hot and heavy in your ear, “I’m close, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You choke on your breath as he wedges a hand between your bodies, rubbing furiously at your clit while muffling your sobs with an open-mouthed kiss. 

“Cum for me,” he pleads, eyes squeezing shut like you were tormenting him. “Cum on my cock baby, and I’ll cum for you too.”

Your head slams back onto the pillow, gasping and choking for air as you finally crash and that firework explodes outward. Your mind reels as you see white, gushing hotly around Leon who’s still chasing after his own high. You take the overstimulation, tears running freely now as you hold on for dear life he uses you to achieve his own orgasm, his grunts and breathy moans making home inside your memory as the sweetest sounds you’ve ever heard. You call out his name like a chant–a mantra, sweeter than any prayer you’ve ever had to utter.

When he pulls you in his arms, settles his full weight onto you, and kisses you so desperately like you’d disappear the moment he opened his eyes, you know he’s reached it.

Leon rams his hips so that he drives as far as he could into you, cum shooting white hot ropes and painting your walls white. You choke on your own breath as warmth spreads through your body, addicted already to the feeling of his cum spurting inside. You're mesmerized as you watch as his face pinches into something so beautiful and pretty to watch, and you wish you could ingrain the look of him coming undone into your head permanently. 

Nothing but hot pants fill the air as he lifts himself from your frame, hands bracketing either side of your head as he pushes himself up to get a good look at you, blissed out on his cock and almost fucked stupid. He brushes fair from your forehead and kisses you lightly in a deep contrast to the way he had nearly bruised your lips as he came.

You shift and he winces, slamming his hands on your hips to hold you still as he stays inside of you. 

"Stop," he breathes out as if it pained him.

"Leon? What are you-"

"Fuck–just please, I need–" he gasps, slightly moist forehead coming to rest on yours, "You're so good, baby. Just let me stay like this for a bit–just a second."

Your emotions take a hit as he begs you to stay despite the oversensitivity combating the need to be as close as possible to you. "Alright," you whisper, though a pressing question comes to the forefront of your mind. "Can I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"Why did…Why’d you kiss me?"

He laughs, all gentle and real right from his stomach and it sends shivers down your spine. You want to draw the sight of his laugh lines into your permanent memory. "Of all the things that just happened, that's what you want to know?"

"Mhm," you affirm, having no strength to try and fight him on the matter. He's left you breathless and tired, and frankly, you just want to know what’s on his mind.

"Well, that's a bit of a stupid question." He nudges your chin up with the crook of his index finger and those blue crystalline eyes catch yours to sweep you off your feet again. "I kissed you because I wanted to, sweetheart.”

You breathe, working on keeping it level as he finally slips out of you, mixed fluids leaking out of your spent cunt upon not being plugged anymore. Leon leans back, admiring his work and laughs to himself. His eyes trail up your body and your gazes connect. You find him looking at you, searching for something like he usually does, but this time, he finally seems he found what he’s looking for.

“Did I let you find it?” you ask tiredly.

“Hm?”

“Back at the cafe,” you explain with exhaustion lacing your voice. Leon gets up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment, and you hear the sound of running water. When he comes back out, he grabs a water bottle from the fridge that was provided from the hotel and returns to the bedside, running the warm cloth against your oversensitive skin. 

“Yeah?” He murmurs to show he’s still listening even as he carefully wipes down the inside of your thighs. “What about it?”

“You said you were looking for something, but I wasn’t letting you find it. Did I do it?”

Leon pauses in his actions, takes a good look at you though you don’t know what’s happening in that complicated head of his. Nonetheless, he smiles and crows feet crinkle his eyes as he leans over to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “You did,” he affirms sweetly, then once he deems you clean enough, he says, “You did good, baby.”

The praise goes straight to your head as you try uprighting yourself, but almost miserably failing before Leon catches you. One of his arms curls around your rigid upper back and the other tucks beneath your knees as he easily lifts you and carries you to the pull-out bed that he’s been sleeping on since you got here. Gently, he deposits you on the mattress with the water bottle before beginning to wipe himself down. 

You take gentle sips, watching him as he finishes up and joins you at your side on the bed, sinking down in the much cleaner sheets and tossing the fabric over you. Quickly, you fall into place with your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat and legs intertwined. One of his arms lazily tosses over your waist as he buries his nose into your hair.

Never before has your heart felt so full and alive before, pumping strongly and emotionally just for the man in front of you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling sleep weigh heavily on your mind. “For everything.”

“You make it sound like you’re dying,” he jokes, hand running cautiously up and down your back. You shudder as he feels along every scar with expert care, but you find it's not as bad as you thought it would be. “We still have a long way ahead of us.”

“We do,” you agree thoughtfully before hesitating. “Do…you feel the same way I do?”

Leon kisses the crown of your head affectionately, polling you tighter and more securely against him. “Oh, I adore you, sweet girl. You’ve got me at your beck and call, I can promise you that.”

“Okay,” you settle down, finally at peace. “You’ll stay?”

He tilts your head up, making you stare into those blue eyes that have carried you through so many years of torture and conflicted love. Leon Kennedy, this masterpiece of a man weighed down by years of his job who has tried to kill you and in turn survived your attempts to slit his throat wide open loves you. Even when you hated him, you couldn’t stay away as if the stars and the universe had destined for you to always be connected.

Maybe this is what it means to be in love–to be devoted to someone that you need then like you need the air to breathe.

“I promise,” Leon says, sleep edging on his voice warmly but still persisting to lay your fears to rest. “You’ll have to kill me to stay away from you, (Y/n). I’m yours, whenever and wherever you need, no matter the time of day. I’m staying for you because I love you.”

What a strange thing it is to be in love. But, perhaps in this moment, where you feel so incredibly warm and rich like a healthy fire with plenty of fuel to go on forever, you decide it’s not so bad. 

No longer does your heart stay frozen and bitter from years of misuse, but who would’ve guessed that the man who you swore to hate for the rest of your days would be the one to finally melt it down into a blazing fire of emotion?

Far away, miles away from you and Leon, the blizzard that had forced you under the same roof all those weeks ago dissipates, finally satisfied.

[creepy-spooghetti]

Heya dear fella! ^^

I was wondering... What about some platonic Hcs for BEN, Jeff, Helen and Toby (Sepparetly) with an early teen fem!reader (like 12-13 years old)?

Like- The reader is just this sweet, kind, caring child who is always trying her best to make people happy always with a smile on her face and make sure their okay (that goes for physical and mental) but is always the one everyone forgets about, the one that's always left out, the one that always fades into the oblivion.

And so one night (at likely 2 am) the creep in question just finds her sitting on the sofa and he, kinda shocked, asks her "hey, you 'kay?"

And then the reader just looks at him with a confused expresion until she starts crying and shaking her head no while saying "I never was!"

This is my kinda prompt :D

Thank you for requesting!!

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

BEN

In all honesty, this dude can be pretty oblivious to what's going on around him, especially when it comes down to peoples' feelings. So he genuinely took your blitheful front at face value and assumed you were alright! How could you not be? You seemed so happy all the time!

However, these false conclusions came crumbling down when he spotted you alone in the living room, sporting a blank expression as you stared at what was seemingly nothing. It was a concerning sight, to say the least. So he laid down the food he'd just raided from the refrigerator and walked closer, waving a hand in front of your face.

"Uhh...Y/n? A-are you, like...okay?"

The response he got was certainly not one he was expecting, and it took him greatly off-guard. He was not good at dealing with this sorta stuff, and the way his body stiffened significantly was proof enough of that.

Still, he wasn't about to leave. That would just be immoral. So he took a seat on the coffee table in front of you and tilted his head, letting you ramble on about how no one seemed to care about you even though you made it your #1 goal to ensure everyone else felt heard and accounted for. He held his hand up to halt your words and offered a sincere grin. "Hold up, hold up. I care about you. That counts for something, right?"

Jeff

He figured after seeing you around for a while that something had to be up with you. After all, nobody can be that happy 24/7. But you had never made any effort to signify that you wanted someone to acknowledge the potential struggles you had, so he kinda just shrugged it off with the thought, "if she needed comfort or something, she'd go to someone about it".

This theory of his backfired when he saw you looking so lost and saddened on the sofa, and it honestly startled him; what could have happened that made you so...gloomy? He had just returned from a mission, so his hoodie was coated with patches of fresh blood and his hair was messy, but he figured taking a shower could wait.

Hesitantly, he approached, raising a worried brow. "Y/n, hey. You good?" The glance that he received for that question made his stomach tense, and before he could really process it, you just started to cry, burying your face in your hands and explaining through tears how you felt ignored and insignificant. He blinked in confusion but sat down beside you nonetheless, resting his arms on his knees and leaning forward to get a look at your expression. His voice softened a bit.

"...Has this been happening for a while?" When you nodded, he huffed in contemplation, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Ya know, if you wanted help, you could've just asked. I know this place is chaotic, but bearing a burden like this alone is just not ideal. You gotta let people know how you feel. Otherwise they'll probably never catch on. They're all idiots."

You sniffled, and he gently patted your back, lacing a lighter tone into his words. "Feel free to come to me, okay? I know I can be an asshole but I promise I won't give you a hard time about it."

Helen

Like Ben, he's a bit unaware of what people are feeling, but only because he's always so lost in thought. From the way you carried yourself all the time, he was almost jealous of you. Why couldn't he be that content with his life? What was he doing wrong to prevent that?

He just kinda shut down for a few seconds when he noticed you on the couch, appearing solemn. What was he supposed to do? He's not a 'people person' by any means, and even so, the two of you were never very close. Then he thought back to that time he was being tormented by Johnny and you stood up for him, and a decision was made.

Hesitantly, he willed himself to walk over and sit a couple of feet away from you, staring at the floor and speaking in a low voice. "Are you...alright?"

"No. I haven't been. Not for a long time." It was difficult to comprehend, as you had never once acted miserable in the past, but here he was, and here you were, experiencing it. He listened unsurely to your venting without interruption, and when you tapered into a sob-brimmed silence, he took it as his cue to - albeit reluctantly - place a hand on your upper back and provide words of attempted consolation.

"...Sorry you've had to deal with that. If you want to...you can come up to my room and we can sketch or something? I have some extra supplies you can use. Just to...get your mind off of everything."

Toby

Toby is no stranger to feeling lonely or disregarded, except he never purposefully convinced people that he was 'okay'. He knew that you weren't what you seemed, however, and though he never attempted to further confirm this (he has his own troubles to worry about, after all), he still watched closely on occasion, as he's a naturally observant person.

Seeing you on the couch in the middle of the night rose questions within him, and he didn't put much thought behind the matter before stepping over and speaking with a muted voice. "What's wrong with you?"

"Everything," is what you mumbled after several moments, and he leaned away in mild alarm when you started crying. This was certainly a concerning thing to witness. Still, instinct kicked in, and he sat down close by your side, brushing some hair out of your face.

He didn't say anything, as he was never very skilled with verbal comfort, but when he realized that your emotional breakdown might last a while, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him, expecting to be pushed away, but you only reciprocated.

And like that, you stayed, until you settled down enough to uphold a conversation. Then he opened his mouth. "Hey... Jane and I are getting together tomorrow to play chess. Wanna join us?"

[homunculus-argument]

"You gotta be tough if you're gonna be stupid" doesn't always look like blowing up your house because people warned you what's going to happen if you try to do the thing you were doing and you didn't believe them. Or having people beat the shit out of you because you fucked up something that they will now also have to suffer from.

Most of the time it looks like simply stoically accepting that you have no idea what the fuck you're doing. That doing things right is simply not an option for you, you can either simply never do anything at all, or accept that you're probably doing it wrong and you won't even know it before the consequences show up. If someone knocked on my door five minutes from now going "hey you unwittingly fucked up something so spectacularly bad that you're spending the next 15 years in prison", I wouldn't even be surprised.

I don't see the consequences of my own stupidity as simply my cross to bear. If it was a constant burden on my shoulders, at least I would know where it is. It's an invisible sword of Damocles, constantly hovering above my head.

[iheartchv]

Hiiiiii 💙💙💙 I love your COD match ups and I was wondering if I could have one too??

I’m 5’1”/155cm, very curvy but also surprisingly strong for a woman. Natural blonde with blue eyes but my hair is a different color like every few months (it’s blue right now! 🤭). I pretty much only wear makeup when I go out; the rest of the time it’s only mascara and brows. I like to wear superhero or witchy t shirts, leggings or jeans and combat boots, or in the winter I love my silly cozy sweaters.

I’m an INFJ, Ennegram Type 9. I am very definitely an introvert that prefers to spend time alone at home or in the woods with my dogs. I devour books, mostly fantasy/romance/mystery, I love playing cozy games or adventure games, and I write like a fiend. I’m a practicing witch.

I take a long time to bond and trust people, but when I am close with people I’m very hyper, affectionate, bubbly, sweet and loving. I still do best one on one or in very small groups. I’m AuDHD with high anxiety so I definitely feel way more comfortable with people who either are similar or understand how to help me through meltdowns.

I’m a professional dog trainer and have several Border collies who I spend most of my time and energy on; they are my heart and soul. We do EVERYTHING together 💙 my favorite part of my day is being outside with them.

My hyperfixations currently are Nightwing & Red Hood, COD, dogs and witchy things 🥰

Thank you so much in advance, you are such a cool person and I love your writing!!

🤔 I'll pair you with...

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish 🧼

I think Soap would be your match

Total opposites yet can't stand to be apart for long periods of time

//I'm running out of scenarios, bear with me >3>

You're out shopping in town

Ofc your fur babies have to go with you

They were pretty well behaved and everyone loved seeing your dogs

"You've got some loyal body guards" they'd say

Some of the older ladies gossip about you needing to find yourself a man

But you thought you had all you needed: just you and your dogs

Little did you know that running into Soap would lead you down a path you never thought you'd take

Soap was sitting on a bench, watching people pass by, just sitting alone with his thoughts

You passed by and a piece of paper fell out of your back pocket

He saw the paper and figured it was yours

Could've been important

"Hey, miss"

You turned around to see if there was someone talking to you

"Yes?"

"You dropped this"

You were met with the most beautiful blue eyes you've seen

"Oh, uhm, thanks. It was just my grocery list"

A small smile crossed yoir lips

"Oh... do you want it anyway? I can throw it away for you, if you want. I just thought maybe there was something important on it"

"Sure, that'd be fine if you threw it away"

"Yes, ma'am"

He crumbled the paper in his hand and threw it in a nearby trash bin

Soap noticed you had your hands full, your dog's leashes and bags of groceries in hand

"You've got a handful. I could help you with that"

You didn't want to feel like a burden to this stranger, who made your heart feel strangely warm and fuzzy

"Are you sure, you don't mind?"

"Nah, not fir a beautiful lady like yourself"

You felt your heart start to pound

Your cheeks started to turn pink at his flirty compliment

"Okay"

He took the bags from your arms and then smiled at you

"Lead the way, I'll follow"

As you both walked to your house Soap and you introduced yourselves

He commented on your dogs, how they seemed so well trained

When you told him you were a trained dog trainer he smirked

"Ah, that's why"

He liked dogs

He was a dog person

When you made it to your front step, you opened the door to let your dogs inside, and then turned to collect your bags from Soap

He handed them to you

"You got them?" He asked, making sure you could close your dog with your arms full

"Yeah, I got them. Thanks"

"You're welcome."

A ring coming from his cell phone signaled him to go

"I've gotta go. Will I see you around?"

"Yeah, most likely"

"Alright. You take care of yourself."

You gave a nod with a soft smile

"You too."

🤍

You two became friends, close friends

So close, anyone would've thought you both were a couple

Soap would joke and tease saying they were, which made you blush and get flustered

He would only laugh and reply "I'm just joshin' with ya"

Any time he had, Soap would drop by to visit you

(Before meeting you again, he went back to the trash bin and got the crumbled piece of paper before going home that afternoon... to keep it because it had your handwriting on it)

Months went by, and everytime you went into town your eyes scanned the stores, streets, and faces of people to find Soap

Yeah, he told you he was in the military

You kinda figured he was most likely to be far away somewhere in some country or countries

You just hoped that he make it back safe

In the short amount of time, you had come to enjoy being around him

Plus your collies loved him

And he loved them, as well, as if they were his own

It warmed your heart to see him playing with your dogs outside, petting them, giving them scratches

Right now, you felt your heart tighten and your eyes water a bit

You missed him so much

You hoped every day and night that Soap would be always protected and return

One day, you saw him and you never felt more happy to see anyone

Your dogs reflected your happiness, their tails wagging

"Johnny!"

He saw you running to him, your dogs running faster then you and leading you, it seemed like

He let out a 'oof!' and a soft chuckle as you wrapped your arms around him in a hug

He hugged you back, loving the feel of you in his arms

His heart felt so warm and fuzzy holding you like this

"I'm glad you're safe and sound"

"Me, too, bonnie. Me, too...."

❤

After a while, Soap asked you out on a date

It went pretty well

He stole a kiss from you

He thought you looked cute blushing and flustered

After many more dates, he wanted to be official with you

"I want you to be my girlfriend... I understand if you say no, but... I just want you to know that I love you, I care about you. I want you, you're all I want, sweetheart"

You accept after thinking your feelings over and through

You've made him the happiest man on earth right now

Soap will do whatever it takes to make you happy, as happy as you've made him

[natjennie]

this wont be very coherent but bear with me because like.

the fact that hornigold was a representation of ed makes the beginning scene when he's trying to feed him soup and ed keeps yelling and squirming so much fucking sadder because like. yknow as someone who has dealt with a bit of depression, taking care of yourself really does feel like that.

like you are fighting with every ounce of your being to be done, to give up. and you're in such a dark place that you see those small steps of taking care of yourself, like eating, as such a burden and it begins to get all twisted up in your mind. and the other part of you, the part that's scratching and clawing to stay alive is so frustrated because you need to eat. eat, drink, take your medicine, you'll feel better. and you know that's true, the logical part of you knows it, but you don't want to do it anymore. all living has done is hurt you, so of course you're going to rationalize your self-destructive behavior and come up with any reason you can not to take the help that's being offered to you. "no, stop, fuck off, it's poison"

hornigold literally has to force-feed him like a toddler and, on my worst mental health days, I've been there. forcing yourself to get out of bed and eat something is hell on earth and you kick and scream and drag your feet for every second of it but you do it. "you gotta move on, or blow your brains out… or- we could just make some soup" LIKE!!!!

[honeeslust]

Satoru Gojo | you cryin?

🖤 inspo for this comes from that slutty gif of Satoru in the box. I know well all collectively had… thoughts… but couple that with the ‘you cryin’ and yea… lets go!

🖤 WC 4100+

Could you imagine falling in love with someone like Satoru? The man can process anything coming his way faster than it can even be perceived. This is except when it came to falling for you.

That being said, he's not going to baby you into the supernatural three ring circus that is his life. That would be arrogantly irresponsible.

As soon as he knew you weren't going anywhere, he made a point to teach you to fear the dangers of his world as he understood better than anyone the cost of bearing such a burden. One of the first things he made sure you understood was how to be wary of the places that gave off a any kind of bad vibes.

But... it wasn't like you set out for this... but you know what they say about the curious cat...

An uncharacteristically frantic Satoru is losing his mind when you don't make it home at your usual time. It really could've only been about 10 minutes past the time you were due to be home but at the moment, none of his thoughts were logical. Not when he could almost immediately intuit the danger you'd found yourself in.

... Somewhere else

You're bound by your wrists to something sturdy above your head. Your body is so weak you can't even pick your head up enough to make out what it is you're tied to. Even after jerking around with all your might, the chains retaining you hadn't so much as budged.

It was hopeless. And now your murky vision has to be betraying you. Your surroundings were moving in ways it shouldn't.

And was that... a man just now?

Your eyes swept the area around you to find nothing but the dark empty expanse staring back at you. Every ounce of your energy having mysteriously been sapped from your body. Defeated by the onset of fatigue, your head hangs between your shoulders.

Shit Satoru. I fucked up...

Yea. You did sweetheart.

A voice echoes out from somewhere nearby, but every direction you turn in is still just an endless sea of black. Panicked, your words wisp out of you shakily.

Wha-?..who are you?

I'm Mahito...

The disembodied voice calls out to answer you as he figure slowly emerges from the shroud of darkness ahead of you.

Thanks for making this easy for me.

Why the hell am I here Mahito?

Isn't it obvious? Satoru! He'll come running for you. And when he does well... he's no longer gonna be a problem for us.

Your chains rattle against the reinforcement as you struggle to turn away from the foreign hand now clutching your face in a harsh grip. The entity winks at you. His hand is hot on your face, hotter than it should be. It makes your skin crawl and you flinch away in disgust.

Don't fucking touch me.

His lip draws under his annoyingly perfect teeth, as he looks you over pleased with your choice of costume.

Hah! Quite a mouth you got on you little angel. If only I could get locked in here with you, Im sure I could make a devil outta you.

Tch. Ooh. If only. you snide teasing him with a pathetic pout before you spit right in his beautiful face.

Wait. What did he mean...locked ? As in.. inside?

God-fucking-damnit!

Mahito swings his powder blue locks over his shoulder, breaking into a fit of maniacal laughter. He smears the wad of saliva from his face to lick it from his finger.

Fuck! Satoru's a lucky one.

You seem like you'd be so much fun.

Ah well. I'm sure you would've made a fine plaything. Its a shame I gotta leave you here now.

Too bad. So sad Mahito. Best be on your way, bitch.

Your body trembles, betraying the evil glare you aim in his direction. What he'd said before was beginning to sink in.

Locked in...

Fuck me!!

Mahito comes closer to you, making you flinch away.

I guess you're right. I'm sure he'll be here soon and I'm not trying to fight him...Even I know my limits.

He stoops in front of you, his bicolored irises flashing in delight as he reaches past your ear to play with the hem of your angel wing. Guess this is goodbye pretty one.

With that, retreats. Vanishing into the shadows leaving you stranded in the dreadfully cold loneliness. The accompanying darkness enclosing you doesn't help your nerves much either.

As if things couldn't get any weirder. A faint blue fog appears before you and seemingly moves toward you. It creeps closer and closer. Moving about unnaturally as it does so. A hand made out of bones materializes out of the cloud and then... more and more of them emerge. Entire skeletons. Swarming in around you until youre body is swallowed whole by the vapor.

...

Y/n......

Y/n. Wakeup.

Hmm? God Satoru what?

Baby. Wake up.

Your eyes flick open and you're ready to slap Satoru for waking you up before the sun when you didn't need to be.

But wait! This wasn't youre room, this wasn't even a place. You were as happy to see Satoru as you were horrified to see that you're still tethered to the chains from before.

You found quite a place to try and have a nap. Sweetheart.

You know I wasn't napping Satoru ... Now can you help!! you say yanking the chains.

Tsk tsk tsk. He admonishes with a shake of his head. I won't lie. This sucks

Yea it does. Help me outta these won't you.

Mmmm.

What do you mean mmm?

I mean... I did try and tell you....

You scoff rolling your eyes hating exactly how right he was. He told you. Time and time again. Halloween is the worst time to be out and about as a newly awakened sorcerer.

Ugh okay. Baby you made your point. You gripe putting on your best pout and jangling your chains in his direction. C'mon. Satoru let me outta this.

I don't think I will. Not until you answer me one thing...Why were you out here alone?

Because I wanted to be. I can handle myself just fine, thank you. You say proudly even though you knew that in your current predicament,  you looked at least 2 sizes too small to for the big shit you talked.

Oh you can huh? He exclaims bearing a crooked smile down at you. But did you ever happen to stop and consider what I said about Halloween.

No. I didn't. You lie.

Immediately. You're met with a look of disbelief.

You don't huh...?

He cocks his head to the side. Leaning over you to jostle your chains.

... You comfortable like this sweetheart? He says rubbing the side of your face suggestively.

You roll your eyes. You know I'm not.

So then tell me why? You're a fucking danger magnet. It follows you wherever you go. You know and you pull this shit?.

Satoru recalls the moments he spent panicking when he couldn't get a read on your energy.   And that was exactly what they had hoped for when they dangled the chance to save you in front of him. For the second time in his life, hes d walked into a trap.

He kneels on the ground in front of you,  and arm draped across his thigh, the other caesses the side of your face. Why would you risk it y/n?

You stare back at him, too stunned by the vulnerable look in his eye to keep your attitude. Does it matter?

The hell are you asking me right now? Yeah y/n it matters to me that you put yourself in danger.

Awwww. Satoruuu. Were you worried? You sing songed out, teasing him.

His ears burned red.

Shut it. But yes. Obviously I was Sweetheart.

Fiiiine. Fine. You say giving him a small smile. But for real Satoru...You taking me outta this or not?

He glances up over your head, sizing up the length of your chains. Yeah. I will...Once I figure this out.

What?

Oh yea. Guess it seems this place was designed to keep me from using my abilities. So we're trapped here until the people out side can figure out how to get us out.

You're kidding!

Nope.

Fuck. Your voice shakes as the panicking kicks in. What in the actual fuck am I supposed to do now? You ask when you notice him looking down at you.

But wait Sweetheart. I can't lie. You look good in this position.

Tsk...Boy! Don't start. Baby you have to get me outta this.

What?....I'm allowed. I mean baby, you had me going crazy. And now well...I feel like I need to take advantage of this interesting little situation we find ourselves in. Gimme a moment to appreciate you like this.

You glare at your boyfriend. No way this angel eyed menace meant that.

No you creep. You're crazy Satoru. Cmon.

You're so annoyed with your boyfriend but there a glint in his eye as he's staring down at you in your vulnerable state. The depth of those ocean eyes could drown you a hundred times over and right now there was a storm brewing behind them. He was truly enjoying the sight of you, twisting so feebly as if you really wanted to deny this could and would happen. This situation was completely fucked. Sure. But damnit if it wasn't the stuff good girls who keep their heads stuck in smutty books would cream over.

No...You're not seriously considering....

Why not? Baby you're so fucking hard headed.

You laugh.. Yeah and...?

A hard head will make for a soft ass. Every. Fucking. Time Sweetheart.

Why did that send a sneaky little quiver right to that spot? Oh right, cause no matter how screwed you might be. It'd be worth it to let Satoru have his way with you. His mean side is his sexiest side.

Now you'd pissed him off. Sure. But Satoru figures why fight about it when you could fuck about it.

I like you like this. All that mouth on you. No where to run off to... Shit. Why didn't I think of this?

Your complexion ripens under his gaze. God. You're loving this aren't you?

You have no idea.

He lowers himself to your eye level, giving you that cocky smile of his but his piercing stare emanates something more than just frustration. Could it have been a little bit of relief you saw in his eye?

Before you could figure it out, he kisses you. Long and hard, his hands encompass your face as if he couldn't let you go. Your cheeks burn in the palm of his hands as his tongue rolls around your mouth, the strokes of his tongue resonating between your legs in repeated pangs pleasure. He breaks away, pressing his fore head against yours.

You make me crazy y/n you know that don't you?

But I thought you liked a challenge Satoru?

Fair enough. But... I don't know..

He skims a finger down the front of your blouse before he pulls his eyes back to meet yours.

... There is only so much a man can take sweetheart.

He tears the thin fabric away with ease making you yelp in response. You stomach tightens, flesh bared and prickling with goosebumps.

But...

Shhh now. I think you like making me like this.  He quiets you, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

But Satoru I...

Any aht! Say the truth. It's just us here after all.

You're panting heavily staring at him with wide eyes.

Maybe... You hesitate, drawing your eyes to his lips, still rosy and wet from your kiss. Maybe it's fun to ruffle those perfect feathers of yours a little...

Is that right?

You shrug... Guess I can't help myself.

He slowly begins to reach his hand down to your waist, keeping his eyes fixed on yours as he does so.

The clatter of the chains reminds you where you are and for a moment, you question whether you can do this here.

I didn't mean to get snatched though. You call out in a weak attempt to make up for the stress you considered you might've put him through.

No you didn't... But here we are. Guess there's nothing else we can do except maybe this.

He tucks his fingers into the strap of your lingirie and snaps the tight band against your skin. You shiver, rattling the chains again.

Uh...Shouldn't we use our time more productively Satoru?

Yeah, I'm about to...Let me get these off you.

He tears at the suspenders keeping your wings attached and they fall the the ground. He rips open the white lacey bodice, leaving you in nothing but the tight thigh highs and gstring, and matching body harness up top

He's kneels before you, pressing his body between your legs. His palms brush softly up the sides of your thighs as he asserts himself over your body.

He glares down at you, his hand groping at the tented area of his pants.

I think it's time we make up don't you think.

You bring your foot up to his shoulder and nudge him away with a feeble kick. God, I cannot stand you.

I should be saying that to you.

Whatever.

Excuse me?

He leans in to press a kiss to the side of your neck.

Whatever Sat— the sudden use of his tongue in your favorite spot catches you off guard.

... What was that now sweetheart?

He asks boasting a cheeky grin as he continues to kiss his way further down your body.

His lips halt their movement right at your navel, granting you only a single moment of clarity. Your eyes open to see him giving you a dangerous look.

Now about that apology.

Your eyes opened wide. What apology? I've done nothing wrong.

No? He asks now trailing his fingers along the wet edge of your panties.

I am.

Your sure? He says looping his finger around the damp fabric and pulling it to the side.

Yes. I don-- ahhh you cried out tugging against your chains and tossing your head back.

His fingers lazily slip between your folds, effectively putting a stop to the sure tantrum you were about to throw.

He prods your clit with his thumb, biting down on his lip as he regards the pleasure overtaking your features.

I'm listening... He suggests slowly dipping his fingers inside.

Use your words baby. I'm gonna need that apology. C'mon. It's easy. Iiii— 

He croons teasingly curling his finger inside and pulsing it right against the spot he knew would have your toes curling in no time.

Your legs squeezed together around his arm making him laugh aloud while adding another finger. He begins to pulse them inside you.

Fuuuck Toru...

Yea I know. Say it baby.

Damnit. He's too good at this.

I'm sorry...fuck baby, right there. You squeel in satisfaction,  drool beginning to pool in your mouth as your core twisted tighter.

Hmmm. I'm not convinced.

Why don't you try again?

His fingers are rutting in and out of you.The warm enclosure wrings tight around them until you're spilling forth everything, mewling out how sorry you were.

He sets back onto his legs, looking down appreciatively at his little brat, trussed up and convulsing with pleasure when he gets an idea.

He lifts the hem of his shirt over his head a tosses them to the side. He reaches up somewhere over your head and you feel a yank on the chain. A sudden sound of shrieking metal fills your ears, jarring you back into your body.

Did he just???

Sato-?

You're dragged forward until your wrists are pinned into his chest, leaving you unable to unleash your barrage of verbal assaults at him.

You Fu-— your words are muzzled into his kiss and he groans, tightly grabbing the cusp of your ass in a grip that almost hurt. He punctuates the kiss with a sound smack to your rear.

He unlocks his lips from yours, and pushes against your shoulders, forcing a gasp out from your lips.

Satoru? You begged watching him wind the harsh metal chain around his fist. The metal grated against itself as he clinched it tight, giving the metal a yank until the steel bit down into your flesh.

You say your sorry Sweetheart...? Show me.

He was perfection. His slutty little waistline is accentuated by the way his hip jutted out to the he side. Your eyes dropped to the large print lying across his thigh and as mad as you were, your mouth watered.

He undoes his pants and lets them sag around his waist. He flips his dick out over the top and pumps himself slow.

Get it wet pretty girl... maybe I'll believe you. He says with a flick of your chain.

You bent forward, ass hiked up to his liking so he could palm your cakes like a basketball. You brought the swollen head of his dick between your lips, and moaned over him as his fingertips dug into the right spot of your skin.

Hes impressed his little angel doesn't immediately gag on his cock, hes fascinated even. You're so slutted out for him that you forget that he could've freed you at any moment.

Never mind that youre now trapped in this place with minimal hope of escaping. Your minds put all of that aside to focus on the singular object of your affection and the way he helps you along, hands free, he guides himself in and out of your mouth. Keeping a taut hold on your chain as you bobbed back and forth on your elbows. throating every inch of his cock like a glove.

Are you really sorry ?

Mmnmnnmmmngghgg

Ahh. baby... Teeth!

He shudders feeling your garbled apologies vibrating along the tight corner in the back of  your throat where his length was now comfily housed.

Fuck y/n. You can do better than that can't you?

Lemme hear it? You sorry or not?

He's so mean about it. Fuck! it makes you wet. It makes you want to sacrifice your breath just to choke on him more.

His body tenses as all the blood rushes to the same spot. He bucks out of your mouth before he can release into the back of your throat.

You're still not making me think you mean it.

Don't you wanna show me?

I do! I meant it Satoru.

He places his fingers under your chin and presses his thumb against your puffy wet lips.

Yea?

A smile pulls at his lips. He believes you. But hes greedy for more of this. He knew that eventually he could fuck the act right into your hard headed ass.

Mhmmm. Alright. Guess I gotta fuck a proper apology outta you... Don't I?

Turn over!

You're body obeys before you've even registered what's happening. He knees your legs apart, pulling back on the chain to hear the way you yiped out. Somehow he's got you hunched over on your knees, your hands held back by your new leash.

Please Satoru.

Tsk. Oh sweetheart. You know thats not what I wanna hear.

I'm sorry baby...

Your knees are burning from all the time spent on them, but it doesn't matter. Your pussy glistens with your arousal for him and the wet hole is repeatedly clenching in wait. You need him as bad as the air in your lungs, maybe more.

The honored one slaps your ass. hard. The bite brings tears to your eyes.

Ahh. I'm sorry. Satoruu. Fuck.

Manners baby.

SLAP.

Baby I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Ohh god please. I need to feel you.

Your flesh stings with another sound slap to the other side causing a your walls to clench tight around nothing. Fuck! It aches so good that your toes curl.

He could feel the heat emanating from your body. He could even see the heavy glow of pleasure as it surrounds you. Even in this dark dank place youre golden aura shines bright in his all seeing eye.

He aligns himself and pushes a few prepatory nudges inside you. Tensing his jaw, he grumbles through clenched teeth until he's buried the full extent of himself inside you.

You welcome the stretch with a drawled out moan, thank you.

Thats my girl.... Won't save you though.

The emphasis of his words are punctuated with a sharp thrust forward.

Ssss, starting to feel like you sorry angel. Keep it up and maybe I'll let you out of this. He brags yanking back as he brought his hips back against you ass to make you sink your nails into the terrain beneath you.

He moves back and forth. again and again... Each time plunging deeper until you were squirming away. He's so deep you can taste the blisssul release creeping up on you. Its sweeter than nirvana, the feeling of him colliding somewhere inside that makes you forget what you're even sorry for.

He's bullying your cunt with a brutality you've never felt. He's beside himself, watching his cock disappearing inside you again and again. You're unable to flee from the shock as he's tugging on your new chain leash.

I want to protect you.... you need to let me!

Ok. Yes Satoru yes. You're whining, inching yourself forward for a moment of relief. There's just absolutely no way your body can take the pleasure he's forcing upon you.

Awww baby, quit your running. You wanted this didn't you? You like to ruffle these perfect feathers? Thats what you said right?

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you wail, twitching pathetically as he draws back and returns with a resounding pound that all but knocks your lights out. You're blissfully cock drunk, the wetness leaking down out over the base of his cock.

It's like he's saying it over and over and over.

...love... you...

... protect.... you.

You can't move, you can't think, you can only feel him fucking his frustration right into you.

Let me... baby....Am I understood?

Yes Satoru. Yes.

Lemmie hear you! Say it again!

Satoru—- Please... Ohhh I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, you scream out letting that dick turn you into groveling mess.

Satorus entire body quivers at the sight of your ass clapping against his skin as he picks up the pace.

Are you? I cant hear you.?

Say that shit like you mean it!.... Say it!

He's being mean and he knows it. But he needs you weak. He needs you broken. He needs you to quit putting yourself in harms way because he wouldn't know what to do without you.

everything you put him through resonates with the pleasure hes giving. You're right where he wants you, so his palm slaps harshly across your ass, his continued unmerciful thrusts knocking loose every screw in your brain.

Baby I am. I swear. Im so so so so sorry!

He yanks, dragging you back against him hard. He traps your arms in a tight lock behind your back and slowly rolls his hips to etch himself deeper. Imprisoning you in his arms, he growls lowly in your ear.

I don't believe you.

He forces you back over, this time pushing your chest to the floor. You're vibrating on the brink of an insidious rapture. Skin clapping against skin. Him tuggeong on your leash to to keep that arch the way he likes it. His pace is unrelenting. Like he was dead set on making you feel how crazy you made him.

You beg and you beg feeling the sloppy trails of arousal leak down the inside of your thighs. You'll say anything, do anything, BE anything for him. He has to know that. But still, he's unrelenting.

What's left of your voice creaks out in a whine.

So so so so sorry daddyyyy ohhhhh.

The moniker spills from your lips making him jolt with pleasure, spilling all kinds of his honored elixir into your trembling mess of a cunt. You're so full of him that your entire body spasms.

Daddy huh?

He likes it. It has a ring to he didn't know he needed to hear. Your clenched so tight he cant pull out. Fresh hot tears are running down your face and you look over your shoulder too distraught with your shattering to even speak to him.

He's gasping for the breath he takes. Beyond satisfied with your apologyas he blinks away the stars in his eyes. a wicked grin stretches across his lips when he sees the tears streaming down your face...

Wait!!. he chuckles, curling a portion of the the chain around either of his hands. He snaps the links and pulls your pleasure riddled body to him.

He clutches your chin between his fingers, and grins.

You cryin'??

@littlemochabunni @ryomens-vixen @biscuitsngravie @crescentmoontsuki @blkkizzat @thecookiebratz @residentfromnowhere @i-literally-cant-with-this @arlerts-angel

[incorrect-skylanders-quotes]

Master Eon: (frantically flipping through books in the Academy library) Come on... It wasn't this hard when I was invisible last week... Where's the Core-

Master Eon: (noticing Wind-Up and Countdown, quickly hiding the book) *cough* Greetings Skylanders, isn't it great being so noble and just?

Wind-Up: Uh, sure Master Eon. You okay?

Master Eon: Yep, just a regular day doing my usual heroic nonsense. Nothing unusual here!

Countdown: Alright, if ya say so... Let us know if ya need anything, I guess.

(Countdown and Wind-Up walk away)

Wind-Up: Well, that was weird.

Countdown: You're telling me...

Master Eon: (wipes forehead) That was a close one.

Master Eon: (flipping through books again) Alright, there's gotta be a map...no...nO-

Master Eon: (tossing a book to the ground) Ah forget it! I can't find anything in this stupid library!

Master Eon: (spots Boom Bloom having a conversation with Tri-Tip and Chain Reaction)

Master Eon: Uhh, Ambush, come here and help me find something in this library.

Master Eon: Ambush? Ambush! AMBUSH GET OVER HERE BEFORE I RIP THOSE WORTHLESS FLOWERS OFF YOUR HEA-

Ambush: Alright, alright, I'm here, for Ancients sake! No need for hostilities, what is it you need Master Eon?

Master Eon: Wait... I didn't call Ambush?

Ambush: ...You did? There was no mistaking who you were calling, and here I am.

Master Eon: Hang on, you're Ambush? Then whose that?!

(Master Eon points to Boom Bloom)

Ambush: ...That's Boom Bloom, sir.

Master Eon: Let me see if I got this right, You two are both Life Skylanders, you're a knight, she's a ninja, but you're Ambush, and she's not??

Ambush: Wha- Are you jesting, Master Eon?! My fighting style focuses on suprise attacks and quick strikes, I ambush my enemies, that's my name!

Ambush: (storming off) I'm not even the same type of plant as her...

Aurora: Uncle, you of all people should know how sensitive the Skylanders get when you mix up their names...

Master Eon: How is this my fault?! Should we just rename Trolls and Chompies to "stupid green thing" and "bitey green thing"?! Would that make everyone happy??!!

Aurora: (confused) Why would we-

Master Eon: Ah, to Darkness with this!!

(Master Eon suddenly explodes himself)

Aurora:

(meanwhile)

Kaos: (stopping his illusion spell) I don't know whose been naming these Skylosers, but they're a bunch of thumb-sucking morons!

Kaos: (releasing Eon from his restraints) You're free to go, Eon. You've got enough on your plate without me interfering. I'm surprised none of them have gotten you killed yet!

Master Eon: Thank you, Kaos. It's nice to know that someone finally understands the burden I bear. Same time next week?

Kaos: Wouldn't miss it!

[jackgoodfellow]

~ King of Winter and Toxic Positivity ~

I've made you all a "motivational" poster! 🥰🥰🥰

" Manifest your dream reality through sheer force of will! Anyone can do it! Pull yourself up by the bootstraps! Be a self-made king! Good things happen to good people! Get in that grindset! The only one standing in the way of your dreams is you! Anyone can do it! Nothing is impossible! Everything happens for a reason! Everything will be fine, so don't worry! You can do whatever you set your mind to! Never give up on anything! Every failure is just an opportunity in disguise! Have you tried yoga?? Have you tried supplements? Would you like to hear about an exciting new business opportunity? It's all part of God's plan! You just gotta stop fearing SUCCESS. Happiness is a choice! Delete negativity! Push every boundary! For winners, limits are merely suggestions! Lean in! Don't take no for an answer!! Anyone can do it!! "

[for those who deal with eyestrain, there's a plain-text version of the above pink and green paragraph of assorted toxic positivity slogans copied down at the bottom of the post.]

Anyway, it turns out the people who are willing to look you in the face and tell you that your oppressive burdens are in fact not that heavy at all... are people that either don't have that same burden, or people who are comfortable forcing someone else to carry it for them. - All while they proudly take the credit.

and also, he's HORRIBLE it's FANTASTIC I love him, 11/10, Evil Gay Bitch Gold Medalist, REALLY puts the MLM into mlm [the "Multi-Level-Marketing" into "man-loving-man"]

❄ ❄ ❄

More context and thoughts, if you're a media analysis nerd:

I am, however, obviously a media analysis JOCK 😅

So, the actual toxic positivity quote that I used in the image was inspired by the commentary made in these two episodes of the excellent anti-fatphobia (and therefore anti-capitalist) podcast "Maintenance Phase".

It's a two-parter on this one piece-of-shit white lady wellness influencer, and the hosts are funny and awesome and the entire catalogue of the podcast matters a lot.

[Sidenote: the episode "Is Being Fat Bad For You?" is VITAL shit. - My main takeaway has been that it's ALWAYS better to be fat than to be fatphobic. Every time.]

But the main point that is relevant here is the way this podcast helps peel back the ugly truth of a broader phenenomen:

In other words, it is notable that the kind of people who say things like "We all have the same 24 hours in a day!" are generally also people who already have the money to pay someone else to clean their house, thus literally giving them more free hours in a day, than say, the people they are paying (or underpaying) to give them that time.

And what stuck with me most from these two episodes is the absolute open disrespect that toxically positive privileged people often have for the very individuals they are relying on for all those extra hours they seem to find in a day.

Because the thing is, most of them absolutely buy their own bullshit. They HAVE to.

In order to justify the way of the world to themselves and ease their guilt over their role in it (while still maintaining all their power), they end up so good at lying to themselves that they see no irony in funding their personal business ventures with money from their wealthy parents and spouses... and then calling themselves "self-made."

Anyone can do it, after all! (There are simply certain things that are best left unsaid! Best not to be rude!) And any kind of shake to this worldview means they might just-- crumble to dust!!

And in my personal experience as a Poor Cripple [TM], those folks are champions at shaming the poor and disabled.

Folks like that might very well might very well force someone else to bear the crushing madness of their golden crown, so that they are free to build a beautiful kingdom of ice and agreeability!

They may see no issue, then, as they oh-so-benevolently relax on their throne, being waited upon and granting gifts to pretty strangers - all while pitying that nothing can be done for their poor disgusting maniac of a neighbor--except, of course, to punish them for the crimes they commit in their weak-willed madness~ 💚🩷

I. FUCKIN'. LOVE THIS SHIT, Y'ALL. GOOD WRITING. HELL YEAH.

[Not shown: the literal 6-page essay I wrote today while trying to explain FULLY and COMPLETELY why The Winter King episode matters so much to me. Turns out, in order to do that, I had to talk about the way casual ableism and classism can easily become extreme ableism and classism--and THAT got dark REAL FAST.

I didn't even finish writing it! I was headed to 8 pages at LEAST (and that's not even including talking about the wonderful artistic craftsmanship of the episode!!) when I realized that people might not reblog this as much if it included AN IN-DEPTH PERSONAL MANIFESTO ABOUT THE GRIM REALITIES OF CAPITALISM AND ABLEISM. So like... maybe that's a separate post lol]

Plain-text version of the colorful paragraph:

Manifest your dream reality through sheer force of will! Anyone can do it! Pull yourself up by the bootstraps! Be a self-made king! Good things happen to good people! Get in that grindset! The only one standing in the way of your dreams is you! Anyone can do it! Nothing is impossible! Everything happens for a reason! Everything will always be fine! You can do anything you set your mind to! Never give up on anything! Every failure is just an opportunity in disguise! Have you tried yoga? You just gotta stop fearing SUCCESS. Happiness is a choice! Delete negativity! Push every boundary! Limits are merely suggestions! Lean in! Don't take no for an answer!! Anyone can do it!!

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Lost & Found - Chapter Thirteen.

One Friday update for you all, besties! Hope you have a lovely weekend :D

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve

Words - 3,986

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.

The grasp upon the top of her arm was so tight, she could feel pain down to the bone, his thick fingers vice-like, manhandling her, dragging her along as she stumbled and slipped upon the perfectly polished floor.  

That glossy marble was hard on her knees as she was thrown into a heap, turning to face him, grunting in pain when he kicked her in the thigh.  

“What’s what right there?” 

“Wh-what?”  

His hand went to her hair, pushing her head down. “That there, you blind puttana!” 

A tiny smudge upon the floor, Emma pulling the cloth from her pocket and immediately buffing it away. “I-I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry, R-Rocco.”  

“You damned oughta be.” Each stern word was bitten off from his boxy, white teeth. “Now get out there and mow the lawn, you lazy cunt. Move it!”  

His foot hitting her in the ass was the breaker of her dream, Emma sitting up with a gasp in bed. Gathering herself and her bearings, she caught her breath, at least glad she hadn’t woken in a zoned-out state and ended up in the closet or the corner. Unfortunately, she had disturbed the man who always found here there.  

“Y’okay, Em?” he muffled sleepily from within the pillows, his hand moving to stroke her back. Unfortunately, the prazosin she’d been prescribed to treat her nightmares hadn’t kicked in yet, the doctor explaining it would take a week or two, perhaps longer. At least she was on the right track with it, though.  

Thankfully the drugs he’d given her to decrease anxiety were starting to work in her waking life, which was a definite ease of emotional burden. Sudden loud noises no longer spooked her, and she was much less nervous around new people. Shouting still made her jumpy, though. Baby steps. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay now.” Sighing, she reached for the lamp, turning it on and locating her water bottle. Chugging back a few mouthfuls, she saw Guero’s hand making a grabby motion coming into her line of vision. “There you go, my little brontosaurus.” 

He snorted softly, taking a few gulps. “For someone who hisses like a demon in her sleep, you need to knock that shit off. I never know whether I should pinch your nose or call a fucking priest.” 

“Oh, so he’s comedy brontosaurus!” He tickled her for that, handing the water bottle back as she giggled. Humour. It was about the only way she knew how to deal with the nightmares from her ordeal, two months after finally escaping it. At least he indulged her in it, being a comic person by nature. Okay, so there was a fair amount of smart mouthed sass that also went hand in hand with it, but still, nobody made her laugh like Guero. 

There were also other ways she dealt with the lingering effect of her nightmares; ones that also involved something else he was very good at.  

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, after she’d turned over and huffed for the fourth time.  

“Nope.” 

Moving the covers off them, he shifted himself between her legs. “I gotta real good remedy for that.”  

He truly did, pushing her thighs apart to bury his mouth between them. She gasped, his tongue pushing through her folds, taking that first explorative lick at her. Using his fingers, he parted the petals of her cunt, licking her again, a slow, flat drag of his tongue causing her back to arch off the bed, bending elegantly like a bow. He smirked to himself, the thrill of having caused such a response with a mere two licks.  

His eyes took in her glinting hole, sparkling pink and dewy with need already, pushing his tongue within her, a cry leaving her mouth, slowly dragging a hard lick up to her clit and proceeding to circle, softly at first, making her tingle. He coaxed further exclamations from her, those responses causing his cock to harden, fast little flicks over her bud making it swell. 

“Mmm, you like that, huh?” 

“Oh, I’ll give you about a month to stop!” Her words made him chuckle deeply, gently kissing her, wrapping her clit in the soft, pillowy heat of his full lips and sucking, her nails digging into the thickness of his shoulders as she trembled. Her head spun, running her nails over his scalp as she quivered, hips softly undulating against his face, each lick at her clit like wet heat driving cool fire as he built her up steadily. 

The sensations of bliss pooling against his mouth turned his groans to gravel, eating her with more fervour, devouring every last bit of her pink, sending pleasure sparking up her spine. Her release brimmed forth, her little cries of ecstasy driving him on, his tongue lashing hard against her. It sent her reeling as she teetered and then exploded, the release washing over her, her waves crashing against his shore and leaving her breathless.   

She was still warmed to her veins with the haze of bliss when he moved behind her, hooking her leg under his arm and gliding into the satin of her pussy, Emma mewling softly at the delicious stretch of him parting her walls. Another thing she’d managed to procure from the discreet doctor were contraceptive pills, of which he’d furnished her with enough of to last until their next appointment.  

The hot, naked drag of him within her, no longer barriered by latex felt incredible, his mouth buried at her neck, kissing a constellation onto her flushed skin as he groaned faintly. Glimmers shot through her from the insanely deep punch of his cock, the pace slow and rolling, his hips quivering against her as she fluttered around him.  

For her, it was the kind of intensity that made her heart swell, bolts burning brightly in her chest. His hand reached beneath her neck, turning her head to lean his face near, nuzzling her softly before he kissed her with smouldering desire. Sex with Rocco had never been like that, but then again, since it was against her will she understood well that what she had with Guero was a million miles from it.  

What they shared was beyond anything she could have ever imagined back then.  

“Fucking love you so much, baby,” he groaned, kissing her again with stormy affection. It was the moment she’d longed for, for years and years, to have a man fall in love with her, hear him tell her that with sincerity unmatched. God, her heart. 

“I - oh fuck, fuck, fuck - I love you too, ahhh!” she cried, her voice breaking as the deep spear of his cock sent pleasure bursting through her. 

“And if that isn’t the most beautiful way for me to hear you say it, right between those pretty little moans.” It gathered momentum, swirling like a tempest, sharp little shocks skittering over them, their bodies heated and sweat slicked. A frisson of warmth pooled low in her, the sudden overflow having her crying out, her mouth breaking from his as she wailed. He followed her into the abyss of undoing, his teeth sharp at her neck, hot breaths blasting against her skin as the tight clutch of his hands upon her finally slackened.  

He lay inside her for a time, fingers trailing her breasts, kissing her shoulder as they enjoyed the feeling of their nerves still tingling in afterglow. Finally, he slid from her with a slippery pop, pulling the covers back over them, his arm tightening around her waist. She slept very, very soundly that night, waking from a long sleep at 9am, she and Guero with nowhere to go and nothing to do for the morning.  

“Why did you choose the moment you did to tell me you loved me?” she asked out of nowhere, stroking his chest idly.  

It was a question he hadn’t been expecting, Guero smirking a little with the randomness. “Um, might’ve been prompted by the fact I was balls deep in you at the time.” He puffed his cheeks out, eyes rounding as he looked down at her, the expression cracking her up.  

“Well, at least you’re honest.”  

“And so damned romantic, huh?” The playful sarcasm dripped from him, lacing his fingers through hers and kissing her hand, turning to her. “I did mean it, though. I did. I do. You’re incredible. You’re beautiful and gentle, and so much stronger than you know, too. Haven’t told a woman that in a long time either, that I love her.”  

“Who was the last before me?” she asked, skimming his collarbone with her thumb. 

He winced slightly, but offered an answer all the same. “A girl called Astrid Henry. We were together for five years before I found out she’d been fucking my cousin for the last fourteen months of it.”  

Her mouth dropped open immediately. “Who in their right mind would cheat on a guy as great as you?” It baffled her completely. To her eyes, he was the complete package.  

“Someone who was being neglected, but still liked the lifestyle offered to her from dating an outlaw. I was coming up in the club more back in Tuscon, reconnecting with my dad, too. I didn’t put her first a lot of the time. Then when I found out, me and my sparky fucking temper acted before the rational side kicked in. I should have just called it quits with her, but nah. I went and fucked her best friend, because I’m vengeful.” He scrunched his nose up, shaking his head. “Wasn’t my proudest moment.” 

She shrugged, squeezing his hand. “At least you acknowledge it. I think the person I’m slowly starting to become now I’m out from under the weight of Rocco recognises that, the need to hurt if I've been hurt. I can feel there’s something growing within me that wants to get back at him, and it’s gnawing at me that I can’t. Anyway, I’m not making this all about me. What did Astrid do when she found out about you and her friend?”  

“Threw a lamp at me,” he began, biting the corner of his lip, “because when she found out, I was piledriving the friend in question at the time. Set it up so she’d catch me doing it, wanted to hurt her as badly as she had me. It all fucking went crazy after that, cops showed up because of all the yelling, I spent a night in the cells because of it, until my dad came down and smoothed things over with the local PD. I then got one of the famed Ibarra rants for the entire journey home about not thinking with my dick. I guess he was right.” 

“From what you’ve told me, he seems like the type who’d never miss an opportunity to call you out,” she laughed, watching him nod vigorously. 

“Uh huh, the old man was all about that. Teachable moments, delivered at a billion decibels.” He smiled, thinking of his dad, the sadness that they were only just getting back on track again before he’d died stinging at his insides. Those few years they’d had at the end of his life weren’t enough. He brightened then, remembering something. “There was another thing he told me that’s always stuck, something useful.” 

“Yeah? What was it?” 

Turning her onto her back, he pinned her there, hands curling around her arms as he leaned to place kisses against her throat. “That if a woman can still get up and walk after you’re done with her, you didn’t do your job properly.”  

She raised an eyebrow. “So, what’s your aim here, hmm?” 

His mouth continued to glide, the crush of his teeth around her nipple sending a jolt through her. “Total paralysis.” 

Once he was finished railing her into the bed, she could still walk, but it was extremely bow legged and wobbly. After showering and having something to eat, they headed down to the clubhouse on foot, Axl trotting along between them happily. He usually didn’t head down of a Sunday, but Emma had reason to that day, booked in with Hank to begin a project they’d discussed a couple of weeks back. She tired of her scars, and he was the very man who could help her with that.  

A couple of other guys were hanging around, Gilly, Nestor and Bottles, EZ absconded to his trailer with some girl or another, from the sounds coming from it as they’d walked past. Hank was all set up in the corner, greeting her with a big smile.  

“You ready, then?”  

She nodded, cringing a little bit. “As I’ll ever be.” Removing her top, Hank cleaned down the area first before taking one of the two transfers he’d drawn out, making sure it hit her skin just right before placing it down. “Like we discussed, this is just to give me a guide. Anything else I can free hand, make sure every last scar is covered up.”  

He’d suggested the flowers he was placing upon her, a full colour piece of tree peonies and oriental poppies, flowers with large blooms to cover the most, the vivid reds, purples and oranges she wanted them in acting further to camouflage what lay beneath. 

Arranging herself on the table, she prepared for pain, Hank beginning with the outlines first, of which he’d told her to anticipate would be the worst. The needles hit her skin, yet her face didn’t change. He exchanged a glance with Guero, the men raising their eyebrows a fraction in surprise. She’d probably start to make some kind of noise to voice discomfort as soon as he hit bone, he wagered, but once there, her reaction was zero. She sat solid.  

“I hope you know you’re making your guy here look like a pussy right now by comparison,” he chuckled, Guero raising his middle finger. “When I put that elephant on his side, he bitched and complained the entire time.”  

“That shit hurts!” he exclaimed, Emma curling her lip a little. 

“Eh. It isn’t too bad. Kinda soothing.”  

“Soothing?” A head shot up across the clubhouse, Gilly ambling his bulk over. “Nah, you’re cheating and using numbing cream, girl. Ain’t no way anybody would claim ribcage tattoos are fucking soothing otherwise, nah. Uh-uh. It’s hell.”  

She shrugged lightly. “Hell is being held down by your throat and having red hot knives held against your flesh. Gives you a new appreciation for how cattle must feel, I can tell you.” 

At hearing that snippet, Hank stopped tattooing immediately. He’d been much too considerate of her privacy to ask exactly how she’d gotten her scars when she’d shyly revealed them to him, but hearing that sent a chill through his blood. Gilly’s too. 

“Wait, Lombardi did this to you?” the bald man asked, his forehead crinkling from the depth of his frown. 

“He did,” she hummed quietly, reaching to stroke Guero’s arm, noticing the little giveaways of his temper flaring. Tight jaw, flared nostrils. It still made him seethe.  

Gilly shook his head. “Motherfucker, doing that to a girl. What the fuck? Damn, no wonder you’re sitting it rocksteady. I’ve burned myself on hot metal before lemme tell you, I’ll take tattoo pain every time!” 

“Yeah, me too,” Hank grumbled, nodding as he looked at her. “You’re damned tough, Emma.”  

Having a couple of big, scary outlaws tell her that was perhaps the highest praise, she thought. “Did what I had to do to survive. This is why I said it was soothing. Cathartic, even, covering up what he did with something beautiful.” 

Although they had no comprehension over everything she must have gone through, they could understand that desire, at least. She sat relatively unflinching for the first two hours, all the outlines and a little of the colour done, having a few sips of water before she lay back for the remaining two, soldiering on, wanting the first half finished. 

“Can we do the outlines for my lower back too while we’re at it, or are you getting hand cramp?” Emma asked, Hank flexing his hand after putting the tattoo machine down.  

“I could, but you’ve sat for long enough today. Go get something to eat and rest.” Pausing, he then picked up the large mirror at his side lifting it onto his lap. “Ready to see it?”  

She nodded, Hank turning it around as she shuffled side on and lifted her arm. Immediately, she let out a little sob. They were gone. Every single one of them, and in their place something truly, truly beautiful. “Hank! Oh my god, I love it! Thank you.”  

He returned the hug she slid down to give him, feeling his cheeks flush a little when she kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome. Let’s get it covered for you.” One large dressing applied and she was done, Guero moving to hug him. 

“It’s dope as fuck, man. Thanks for doing that for her.” he told him earnestly with a nod, Hank smiling. Looking over at Emma, it was worth the hand cramp he’d lied about having, knowing how important it was to her that she cover up at least one third of the scars that obviously brought her emotional stress. She seemed to stand a little taller, her smile a little wider as she stood talking to Bottles.  

“I have to walk around like this now, like I’m doing the half chicken dance!” she exclaimed, holding her arm up, Bottles shaking with laughter. What a difference to the terrified young woman who’d first entered the clubhouse in Guero’s arms two months prior.  

They decided to remain at the clubhouse for the rest of the evening, Bishop and Lee arriving, ordering in pizza, beer and tequila flowing. They flowed so much, in fact, that Emma got to witness a first; a smashed Guero.  

“You gonna be okay getting him and the dog home?” Nestor asked, who had Axl lying across his lap, enjoying the belly rubs he was receiving.  

Emma turned to view Guero, him and Gilly near cry laughing at something Bottles was telling them, her guy collapsed on the bar. “Not too sure,” she replied, before calling out to him. “Honey! Can you walk?”  

“Pfft, course I can, hic, walk!” he yelled through a loud hiccup, sliding off the stool onto his feet, wobbling. “M’drunk, not, not... th’thing where y’can’t walk.”  

She shook her head, resting a hand to her brow. “No, but he’s definitely the thing where he can’t talk.” 

Nestor snort laughed as he reached to squeeze her arm. “I’ll help you get him back.” Guero protested this, yelling that he was ‘habsoltey, hic, fine!’, Nestor shaking his head and steering him away from walking into the doorframe. It continued along the twenty-five-minute walk back to the house, Guero entertaining them if nothing else. 

“Baby, be ready. Cuz’ imma, hic, smash the hell outta you when wh’home,” he proclaimed, turning to Emma with a huge, dopey grin, Nestor moving quickly to prevent him from walking into a streetlamp. 

“Bro, the only thing you’re gonna smash is yourself. Eyes forward man,” he advised. 

“You can’t tell me whadda do!” His roared words filled the mostly desolate street, Emma in soft fits as she walked, Axl trotting along obediently at her side. “Gonna go bone the living fhuk outta my woman!” 

He continued to behave like a complete liability for the rest of the journey home, stumbling up the drive, their return heard by the local all-seeing eye next door.  

“Fuckboy hammered outta his mind, yo!” Tyrone yelled, his high-pitched laugh sounding as he emerged from behind the curtains. Immediately, Guero’s face lit up. 

“Tyrone! Whassup, bro?” he beamed, steaming across the lawn at full, drunken stampede.  

“Oh Jesus. Apply brakes man, slow down... woah!” he cried, scream laughing as Guero heaved himself up and then promptly vanished through the window rapidly, landing in Tyrone’s living room with a loud thud. Emma and Nestor couldn’t breathe for their hysterics, walking over, peering in to see him lying on his back laughing, Tyrone hissing with tears running down his face. “Fuckboy be all up in here with his bad gymnastics. You scored a solid two point zero for the window vault, my man! You okay, bro? Fuck!”  

"M'great! Window vault was at least a, hic, seven, holding out on me, Tyrone!"

The big man continued to laugh, wheezing hard as he turned to Nestor and Emma. "I know I give the mofo' shit, but I love this guy so fuckin' much! He the damned best when he hammered!"

Guero finally peeled himself off the floor, grabbing a handful of chips from the bag and shrugging. “Love you, too, big poppa! Gonna go score higher in the sexy ghymnhast-hics!”  

Tyrone continued to hiss laugh. “You ain’t doin’ shit other than passin’ out!”  

“WATCH ME!” he roared, spraying a mouthful of chips everywhere before vanishing from the room. Emerging through the front door and slamming it behind him, he stumbled over to Nestor, holding his face in his hands and kissing his forehead. “Love you, Sacagawea. Later!”  

His words were followed by another hiccup, Emma thanking Nestor for his assistance and saying goodnight to him and Tyrone, surprised to see Guero actually manage to get his key in the front door and slide inside, almost toppling over. Oh, god. After unclipping Axl from his leash, the dog moving to curl up on the armchair, she ventured through to the kitchen, finding Guero raiding the cupboards.  

“Love, what are you doing?” she groaned softly, a packet of soup mix hitting the floor with a thud.  

“Need instant choffee.”  

Confusion creased her face. “But you don’t like instant coffee.” 

“Need it! No time to, hic, do choffee macheeeen! Makin’ my dad’s sober drink. Called in the, hic, resurrector.” He paused, burping, giggling to himself and muttering something undecipherable. “Well, m’not gonna be properly sober, but it wakes a dude up.” He continued his searching, finally finding it, hiccupping again. He poured a frightening amount into a mug, putting water into another and taking it to the microwave, putting it on and then staggering to the fridge.  

“An egg, hot sauce and Red Bull?” Emma inquired, raising her eyebrow.  

Guero turned, grinning. “Trust the process. Ten minutes and m’gonna be alive aghain.”  

She expected the process was going to make him throw up, if she was honest. Watching him concoct the disgusting sounding remedy, she felt ill just imagining the flavour and texture of it. Guero paused, taking a deep breath before knocking it back. Immediately, he heaved.  

“Bathroom, now!” she ordered, pointing in the direction. “Really, honey. I can’t deal with cleaning up puke.”  

He held his finger up, heaving again, swallowing hard. “Ten minutes.”  

“Are you going to be alright if I go shower? I’m too hot.” 

He beamed. “Damn right, y’are. Leave it on cold f’me.”  

She left the bathroom door open, anticipating a thud she’d have to go and collect him up off the floor from, showering carefully around her fresh tattoo. He entered the room about five minutes after she’d left him in the kitchen, singing to himself as he brushed his teeth. Remaining unconvinced of the process she was meant to trust, she exited the shower, switching it to cold, Guero climbing in.  

“MOTHER FUCK, that’s freezing!” Well, he sounded less slurred. Still, though, the expectation was for him to hit the bed and pass out. What she didn’t expect was a steadier looking Guero to enter the room, whisk the covers off her and hum with approval. 

“Spread your legs, baby. Lemme see that pretty little pussy.” Doing as instructed, she pulled her legs splayed, her knees touching her chest, Guero’s grin widening. “Mmm, fuck yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.”  

Her day might have begun with a nightmare, but how it ended was anything but.  

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Kalim Al-Asim - Dorm Uniform Vignette

"I just had a good idea"

[Exterior Hallway 2F]

Crowley: Ahh, so busy, so busy…

Kalim: Hey, Headmage, you dropped something! Oh, wait… Isn't this a tourist pamphlet for the Scalding Sands?

Crowley: Oh, pardon me. How careless of me.

Kalim: Here you go.

Kalim: Are you interested in going to the Scalding Sands?

Crowley: That's right, it's one of the possible destinations for my next vacation…

Crowley: Oh, oh, yes～! Now that I think of it, you come from Scalding Sands, don't you, Asim-kun?

Kalim: Yeah!

Kalim: A vacation, huh～ My home country is such an awesome place, so I'd love it if you could visit, Headmage.

Kalim: The people are all nice, and there's a ton of things to see, and the food is super good!

Crowley: That food is what gives me hesitation, you see.

Crowley: I've heard that the dishes served in Scalding Sands use many unique spices…

Crowley: I am unsure if it'll be to my tastes, so I just can't bring myself to take the plunge and go.

Kalim: Oh, if that's all, then come over to Scarabia! Jamil'll cook up a ton of authentic dishes for you.

Kalim: If we're going to be hosting the Headmage, then let's have a feast with the everyone else in Scarabia, too.

Crowley: Eh, oh… I wonder, is that truly alright～?

Crowley: Well, I feel as though I've asked a huge burden of you, but since you've offered, I shall absolutely indulge. I look forward to it!

[Scarabia Dorm – Lounge]

Kalim: …So, that's why we're going to be throwing a banquet tomorrow and inviting the Headmage!

Jamil: Well, he sure set you up… There's no way someone would just accidentally drop a pamphlet of the Scalding Sands like that.

Jamil: First of all, why are we doing this tomorrow? It would have been better to have had more time.

Kalim: I thought it'd be better to do it as quick as possible. No time like the present, they say!

Jamil: They also say not to venture into the sea without a net. Do you even realize just how hard it is to arrange a banquet…?

Kalim: It'll be a piece of cake for you, right? Besides, I've already decided what kind of feast we'll be having.

Kalim: First, we gotta decorate the place. So that the Headmage can appreciate the Scalding Sands' beautify, we need to use textiles that have traditional patterns on them.

Kalim: We got a ton of fabric we're not using up in the storage room, right? Let's decorate with that!

Jamil: One roll of that fabric is worth enough to feed a family of four for a whole month… But, fine. I'll do as you ask.

Kalim: The food is obviously gonna be traditional Scalding Sands dishes! That's also something you're good at, right?

Kalim: And so that he can enjoy all different kinds of things, let's set the feast up with some lightly toasted bread so he can all load up each one with whatever he wants.

Jamil: I'm sure that'll the Headmage will like that. …Even though that'll add a ton of dishes that'll just make prep work even harder.

Kalim: Ah, but even though I'm saying traditional dishes, don't make "that" one dish.

Jamil: Yeah, yeah. I know. I won't make "that" dish.

Jamil: …Alright, I understand what you want for the feast. You don't need to explain any further. So I'll start the preparations…

Kalim: AND THEN THERE'S THE PARADE!!

Jamil: Urgh, of course we're doing a parade, even though that's going to take the most time…!

Kalim: First, the elephant will kick open the doors with a bang. After that, the tigers will come in making their way around the elephant's feet!

Kalim: The white monkeys will bash the cymbals on the back of the golden camels… The lions and the peacocks will…

Kalim: And then after that, the bear… And then…

Kalim: …At the end, I'll pop out of the fountain on my magic carpet alongside the rainbow parrots…!

Kalim: And as the host, I'll give an awesome speech to finish the party!!

Kalim: What do you think!? Doesn't it sound like fun?

Jamil: …

Jamil: What a pain… All I see is how extravagant it'll be. If you're going to want a parade that crazy, it's going to take a while to prepare for it.

Jamil: It'll be especially difficult to get those rainbow-colored birds. I don't know if I'll be able to get them by tomorrow…

Kalim: Well, you're gonna be busy with prepping the decorations and the food, right? I can get the parade ready.

Jamil: Eh!!

Jamil: …Let's not be too hasty. It'll be fine. I'll make the arrangements.

Kalim: I told you, I'll do it.

Jamil: It's fine. Just leave it all to me, you just sit there and wait.

Kalim: I'm gonna do it!

Jamil: I said you don't have to!

Kalim: Don't worry! I'll find a ton of lively animals to bring in.

Jamil: That's what I'm worried about… Ugh, you really don't listen once you get started, do you?

Jamil: Fine. I'll leave the parade planning to you, then.

Jamil: …You sure you'll be fine? I'm counting on you.

Kalim: Leave it to me! I'm really good at handling animals.

[Main Street]

―Day of the Banquet

Kalim: Hey, all you parade animals! You following after me?

Kalim: Hey, now, you elephants and tigers need to get along. See how the lions and monkeys are doing fine together?

Kalim: It's great that the bears and peacocks are being super good. Keep following the lead camel.

Kalim: …Ah, that includes all you rainbow parrots, too!

Scarabia Student A: Wow… All those animals are following after Kalim-ryōchō without any problems!

Scarabia Student B: Our Housewarden's definitely amazing. Look how he's able to command so many animals at once like that!

Kalim: I'm not really commanding them… It's just that I've loved animals ever since I was little, so maybe they can feel that!

Rainbow-colored Parrots: [chirps]

Kalim: But hey, you guys are being super good today. Are you all looking forward to the party, too?

Elephants: [trumpets loudly]

Kalim: Hahaha, I see, I see! I'm so glad.

[Scarabia Dorm]

Kalim: Alright, we made it to Scarabia.

Kalim: I'll have all you animals wait here quietly until the parade starts, and…

???: Fwaa, funyaa…

Kalim: Hm? What's that pathetic sounding cry?

Grim: Nyaaa! I'm gonna be trampled by the elephant! Someone save me!!

Kalim: I don't remember bringing a raccoon… Oh wait, you're Grim! I completely thought you were one of the animals for the parade.

Kalim: Come up here. You'll be safer on higher ground.

Grim: Y-You've saved me…! I got caught up with all the marching animals while on the way back to Ramshackle…

1. I'm searching for a lost child! 2. Has anyone seen my poor little one?

Kalim: Oh hey, it's [Yuu]. If you're looking for Grim, he's right here.

Grim: Oooh～? [Yuu], were you sad that you got separated from me? My little henchie's so needy, huh.

Grim: But this was a shocker. Are you opening a zoo with all these animals, or something?

Kalim: Nope, that's not it. We're throwing a party for the Headmage at our dorm today!

Kalim: We got spectacular decorations, delish food… And we're gonna top it all of by treating everyone with an extravagant parade.

Grim: You got all these animals just for a party!? Man, rich people sure are different…

Kalim: This is all pretty normal. We gotta go all out and make sure both the eyes and stomachs of the guests are happy!

Grim: I don't really care 'bout my eyes, but… I gotta know what you mean by stomach!!

Grim: So, so, what kinda food're you bustin' out for the banquet!?

Kalim: Usually at the banquets we throw back in Scalding Sands, we'll serve dishes with a whole lot of spices in 'em.

Kalim: We got stuff like curry, bamia, saltah… Basically, my country's known for their stew-like dishes.

Grim: Authentic Scalding Sands curry!? I wanna try some～!

Kalim: Ah. But my family doesn't make curry for fests.

Grim: Ehh～ But it sounds like it'd be so good. Why not?

Kalim: Uh, well… A long time ago, there was a bit of an incident involving curry.

1. Did you eat so much you got a stomachache? 2. Did the curry go bad and give you a stomachache?

Kalim: Not really, but sure, something like that. It was days before the illness passed.

Kalim: But since then, I've just never liked curry.

Grim: Humph. You're a bit more delicate than I expected.

Kalim: Oh, it wasn't me that got sick, it was Jamil.

Kalim: He tasted what was brought out first as usual and immediately went deathly white.

Kalim: Ah, but don't worry. It wasn't food poisoning, see? Our dishes are always made with the best and freshest ingredients!

Kalim: Everyone else was perfectly fine, it was only Jamil who got sick, after tasting from my plate.

Grim: …So, doesn't that mean…

Grim: That something was only put into your meal…?

Kalim: Hmm. I mean, I don't really know all the details either, but…

Kalim: That was the first time I ever saw Jamil so down and out… And I've never been able to forget it.

Kalim: …But! It doesn't seem like it bothered Jamil that much, curry's still his favorite dish!

Grim: Urgh… Sounds like he's got weird tastes, totally different from a gourmet like me.

Kalim: We won't be serving curry, but Scalding Sands has a ton of other delicious food to offer up.

Kalim: And hey, you guys came all the way here to Scarabia, so you should totally stay for the banquet!

[Scarabia Dorm – Lounge]

Grim: Myaaah～! This feast's super amazing～!!

Grim: All the bright red banners hanging around the lounge're super cool…

Grim: And there's a toooooon of food I've never even seen before here!!!

Grim: I'm totally gonna eat enough for tomorrow too! Monch, scarf, gobble.

1. This is a real fun party. 2. Gobble, munch, munch.

Kalim: Eat as much as you want, [Yuu] and Grim～!

Kalim: And to our guest of honor! Headmage, are you enjoying the banquet?

Crowley: Yes, absolutely!

Crowley: I had completely assumed that the Scalding Sands would only have spicy cuisine… But it seems I was absolutely mistaken.

Crowley: All these crunchy vegetables! This fragrant seafood! The juicy steaks!

Crowley: And then on top of that you have this savory bread to wrap everything in! All your decorations are beautiful too. Everything is outrageously delicious.

Kalim: Right? And Jamil here made all that delicious food for us!

Crowley: Oh, this wasn't done by a professional chef? You're astounding, Viper-kun.

Jamil: No, not at all. ...Kalim came up with the menu so that you would be able to try an assortment of our dishes.

Jamil: In addition, my cooking skills were cultivated within the Asim household. Everything is all thanks to Kalim.

Kalim: Hehehe.

Kalim: The Headmage and all the other guests are happy, too. Thanks for setting up the place and for prepping all the food, Jamil.

Jamil: …You're welcome.

Jamil: But it's too early to get complacent.

Jamil: As the host, you still have your own part to play during the parade finale, don’t you?

Jamil: Go and get ready for that.

Kalim: Yeah, alright!

[Scarabia Dorm]

Kalim: Okay! I made it to the standby area for the parade.

Kalim: And just like we planned, I'm gonna get on my magic carpet here and wait for the starting signal…

Scarabia Student A: HEY, WAIT!

Scarabia Student B: OH NOOO!

Kalim: Hm? What's wrong, you guys?

Scarabia Student A: H-Housewarden! Uh… That is…

Scarabia Student B: All the rainbow parrots that we had for the parade…

Scarabia Student A: THEY ALL ESCAPLED!

Kalim: Eeeh!?

[Scarabia Dorm]

Scarabia Student B: All the rainbow parrots that we had for the parade…

Scarabia Student A: THEY ALL ESCAPLED!

Kalim: Eeeh!?

Scarabia Student B: S-Sorry! And those parrots were essential to the parade!

Scarabia Student A: We just completely forgot to lock the key to the cage…!

Kalim: All the parrots… I see…

Kalim: …But hey, I'm sure everything'll be fine!

Scarabia Student A/B: Huh.

Kalim: Can't do anything about something that's already done. Plus, it wasn't on purpose, right?

Kalim: I'll take care of it, so you guys don't have to worry about a thing!

Scarabia Student A/B: Kalim-ryōchō…!

Kalim: …Oh. I just had a good idea.

Kalim: I'm gonna head over to Diasomnia now.

Scarabia Student A: Diasomnia? …You mean the dorm Malleus Draconia leads!?

Scarabia Student B: Why would you go to that dorm of all places…?

Kalim: You guys and Jamil all worked so hard to get this party ready.

Kalim: I'll go gather all the birds so that everything goes off perfectly.

Kalim: I need all of you to start the parade as planned. We can't leave our guests waiting.

Kalim: I'll be back as soon as I can!

[Scarabia Dorm – Lounge]

Crowley: Well now, the parade has started. It seems we can view it from the balcony.

Crowley: I wonder what we'll see… Oh?

Crowley: Something is walking towards the dorm from the distance in tune to some music… Wait, aren't those elephants!?

Crowley: And there are tigers walking around the elephant's legs… Hm? And there's lions on the elephant's back…!?

Crowley: Eh, how is this possible!? And now there's white monkeys!? I didn't know a trumpet could be used in that fashion!!

Crowley: And between the golden camels there's… And all the tigers and lions… Wow! Unbelievable!!

Grim: Th-The peacocks' feathers are wrapped around the bears, and… Oh, the elephants! Look at the elephants' ears!! This is amazing!!

1. I'm so moved I can barely take it all in. 2. This is the greatest parade of the century.

Scarabia Student A: Th-The finale is coming up…!

Scarabia Student B: Kalim-ryōchō… Do you think he's going to make it…!?

Grim: Ooh! The parade has made it to the fountain.

Grim: The music's amping up, too…

1. Here comes the finale! 2. This is the most exciting part!

Crowley: I wonder what surprise ending they have in store for us!?

???: …Heeey!

Scarabia Student A: Hey! I see a magic carpet flying our way! And who's that riding it…

Kalim: Sorry to keep you waiting, everyone.

Scarabia Student A/B: KALIM-RYŌCHŌ～～～!!!

Kalim: I was trying to find my classmate Silver, and it took a bit longer than I thought… But I brought them.

Kalim: I got all these white birds!!

Scarabia Student B: …He's right. There's a ton of white birds flying behind him!

Scarabia Student B: Oh yeah, I remember hearing that Silver from Diasomnia has a good rapport with small animals.

Kalim: Yeah. I went and asked Silver to call for his little bird friends to help me.

Kalim: But man, he dozes off so much. It took a long time to be able to call all the birds.

Scarabia Student A: …But in the end, I guess you couldn't find the rainbow parrots.

Scarabia Student A: No matter how you look at it, those parrots would have been flashier than these white birds. And it's all our fault for letting them fly away…

Kalim: Don't worry about it. It wouldn't be nice to force those parrots back into their cages anyway, right?

Kalim: A party's only a party as long as everyone's enjoying themselves.

Kalim: …Ah, and that includes you guys too. So don't look so glum.

Scarabia Student A/B: Housewarden…

Kalim: 'Sides, even these white birds can replace the rainbow-colored parrots! I told you guys I had a great idea, didn't I?

Kalim: It's time for the amazing finale to start. Don't blink at all and keep watching 'til the end.

Kalim: "A haven within the hot sands, a never-ending feast. Dance! Sing! Oasis Maker!"

Crowley: Oh, there goes a spray of water from Asim-kun's Unique Magic…

Grim: And from it, out popped out some colorful birds!!

1. It's so beautiful. 2. I've never seen a scene like this before.

Crowley: …Oh?

Crowley: When I look closer, I can see that the birds flying aren't colorful at all.

Crowley: The rainbow that appeared from Asim-kun's magic were cast onto the wings of those white birds, making it seem like they were colorful.

Crowley: This blizzard of colors, the shimmering spray of water, and those birds dyed by a rainbow…

Crowley: Ah, oh what an astounding view…!

Kalim: Hey, Headmage! And [Yuu] and Grim! Thanks for coming to Scarabia today.

Kalim: Nothing makes me happier than being able to host valued guests!

Kalim: And I hope one day you guys will be able to come enjoy my home country of Scalding sands! …Whoops.

Kalim: Sorry, Carpet. I didn't mean to step th… Hey, don't shake me off!

Kalim: Woah, woah, I'm losing balance… Aaaah!

Kalim: I'm faaaaalling～～～!!!

???: WATCH OUT!!!!!

[SPLASH!]

Kalim: …That totally scared me. I accidentally fell into the fountain.

Kalim: …Hm? But I'm not injured…?

Kalim: …Ah, Jamil! I guess you must have used your wind magic to help slow my fall.

Kalim: Thanks a bunch. I didn't get hurt at all.

Jamil: I thought... M-My heart was going to stop… Ugh.

Kalim: But, oh man, I'm soaked… This is so terrible. Hahaha!!

Jamil: It's not something to laugh about. I was completely beside myself!

Jamil: …Come on, hurry up and get out of the fountain and dry yourself off.

[clapping]

Crowley: A miraculous rainfall that falls on the desert during a parade… I witnessed such beautiful magic.

Crowley: That was splendid, Kalim Al-Asim-kun!

Grim: Yeah, even the part where you jumped off the magical carpet got my heart pumping, it was so cool～!!

1. I don't think that was part of the plan… 2. That was really thrilling.

Crowley: It must have been very difficult for you to prepare everything for this, wasn't it?

Kalim: Nope, not at all. Right, Jamil?

Jamil: Yes, not at all.

Crowley: Asim-kun, your ability to lead everyone to successfully throw this amazing banquet is absolutely spectacular!

Scarabia Student A: That's right! Kalim-ryōchō is always thinking about the rest of us in the dorm…

Scarabia Student B: He's such a reliable guy!

Crowley: I see, I see.

Crowley: This was absolutely a thrilling experience. I've decided, my next vacation will be to the Scalding Sands!

Kalim: That's great! I'm super happy that you get just how awesome Scalding Sands is!

Kalim: And that's all thanks to the parade going off without a hitch. I'll have to make sure to thank all the animals later!

Requested by Anonymous.

[57sfinest]

what is the forbidden harry and jean lore

cracking my knuckles before preparing to type the most deranged post in the history of the world

okay so listen. harry and jean are so unbelievably fucked up. their relationship is TERRIBLE for them both. it's toxic, it's abusive, it's deeply codependent and it's also the only thing either of them has.

here's the thing. the partnership starts off fairly normal- yes, harry is a shithead, he's not a good person, but neither is jean and harry doesn't treat him like shit right off the bat. harry starts off on his best behavior, because here's a new guy who's much younger and who he outranks: this is fresh meat, thrown into his enclosure. another can for him to open. someone new to help him bear his burdens until he inevitably throws them away. he's gotta be let in first, though, so he's playing the role of mentor or chill superior officer or whatever until jean relaxes around him and starts to let his guard down. because despite jean's apprehensions- he's heard about gool ol' dick mullen, after all- harry can be funny, kind, and very good at his job. so maybe everyone was wrong- maybe, to him, harry will be good. maybe this partnership will work out. jean finds himself liking harry and caring about him. harry catches onto this, because of course he does, and the backslide begins.

it starts off minor. more hangovers at work, a little speed off the bathroom mirror. but it's fine because they're still getting work done. harry snaps at him a little, but it's just a rough patch. it's okay. they're not just work partners anymore, they're friends. maybe they're more, although they'd never put a name to it. they go to each other's places and they talk and smoke and drink and shoot the shit about anything they can think of: the world, the pale, the cases. it's an easy thing. a dangerous routine. if jean starts drinking more, to match harry- it's fine. at least it's in company. and all the while harry is getting openly worse, getting completely hammered at work, having more outbursts than actual conversations, lashing out at everyone. jean is no longer safe from it. jean no longer abstains from it either. and it's still jean's responsibility as his partner to take care of him, to keep him going. harry does not usually seem to care about reciprocating, but that's not the point. it's jean's job and, unfortunately, he cares. he's not sure what he would do without harry, now. he's not sure what harry would do without *him*.

harry the can-opener realizes what they've become- codependent, inseparable- and starts spiraling rapidly. he has the freedom to, now. jean talks to him about the drinking, and harry tries to kick it, and jean really believes in him. believes in him when he fails, when he tries again a few weeks later. over and over again until harry stops trying. says he wants to get worse. and jean gets it, at first. only at first. he's depressed too, he understands the suicidal thoughts and tendencies, understands how easy it is to get trapped in an addiction. he knows how important his support is to harry's continued survival.

but it's like everything harry does is to hurt him. screams at him and threatens him and leverages anything he can against him, including very personal things he's pried out of him, then shows up at his door with tears in his eyes and a gun in his hand telling jean that he's sorry, he's never going to do it again, he's going to make sure of it. and jean, still raw and angry from their fights, invites him in, takes the gun from his hand and talks him down and drinks with him, because what else is there to do? jean will never lay down and take it, has no interest in being the better person anymore- he knows every little nasty detail of harry's life by now, and he's not shy about digging his nails into harry's scars- but when everything is said and done, when all the punches have been thrown, he's still going to be there. he's going to be around to bandage the knuckles harry just hit him with because this is it. there's nothing else for either of them.

it doesn't matter that harry lies to him- about what he's been doing, how he's feeling, about where their belongings end up or where the money went, about things he did on a case. it doesn't matter that harry provokes the shit out of him until he's screaming himself raw, then lays down and cries about it until *he's* the one apologizing. it doesn't matter that harry only gets worse, and that somehow he's the one blamed for it. every day they rip each other apart because at least that way they can feel something. it's easy to scream at someone knowing they'll scream back, and then come sleep in your bed anyway. neither of them is going to leave except by death, and they both know it.

there's a complete erosion of boundaries between them. luiga himself confirmed their codependency. if something was jean's, it was harry's too, and vice versa. everything was each other's business. there was nothing kept apart between them. harry cracked jean open and gutted him, so jean did the same to him. they understood each other *too* well, so they knew exactly how to hurt each other, and they did just that. and that's the sad part, that they were so completely exposed with one another- it could have been so good for them. harry could have been a better person and so could jean. they might have been able to heal together. but we see jean's ableist hostility towards harry in the ending: jean has lost all patience for harry. there is no sympathy left.

and you wonder: why, now, does jean call it quits? why, after several years of mutual destruction, does jean draw a line in the sand here? well, obviously- he's been rejected. harry told him to fuck off in martinaise, which of course was not new behavior, but usually harry would come back to cry and beg and plead with him not to leave him. and harry's not doing that. harry doesn't even know who he *is*. harry is running around with this guy he barely knows, and he's functional and they're not having screaming matches, and when harry does finally approach him, he just twists the knife right in by insisting this new guy is cooler. he thinks jean is an asshole now, and not in the way he did before where he thought it was fun to fuck with him. jean is nothing to him, in the most thorough and all-consuming way possible. harry doesn't even know his *name*.

so, fine. harry dumped him. harry's not coming back to him, and he's sure as hell not going to put in the work to rebuild that bridge, not when he should have burned it years ago anyway. and if that's how it's going to be, he's got some things to say. he's going to make it hurt for harry as much as it hurts for him. maybe he doesn't believe every single thing he says in the ending, or not fully, but it doesn't matter. he's going to say everything he can to hurt harry because harry is leaving him, and they already failed each other a long time ago.

[twothpaste]

Thoughts about Porky?

my thoughts on porky are such a vast tangled web of forever spaghetti that i'm not even sure where to begin or what to pin down. the premise of a tormented child ascending to near-godhood out of sheer misanthropic spite towards the whole wide world makes my brain do backflips like a sea world dolphin. i'll ramble a bit about him.

he's ness' foil. just two chubby kids who probably grew up with their (un)fair share of bullying. the only thing distinguishing them was the familial abuse porky suffered, which he inevitably regurgitated. then destiny comes along, choosing ness over porky, and the jealousy just eats porky alive. watching his bestie accumulate friends and accolades, unable to accept it's his own rotten behavior that's driven a wedge between them. gotta imagine the burden of cutting porky off was almost unbearable for ness. somethin' that keeps him up at night, wondering if he'd just been a little kinder, or sterner, or more understanding - maybe he could've saved his old friend? not quite yet realizing it was Not At All his responsibility to "fix" someone who'd dug his grave and laid in it. porky's the kinda bad guy you love to hate, but considering his upbringing, you hesitate to blame the poor schmuck. all he knows is authority and manipulation. if you gave any ornery ostracized thirteen year old unlimited power - instead of empathy and guidance - they'd probably go down the path of vengeance, too.

he's lucas' foil. both of 'em were given plenty of reasons to hate the world. when faced with an unhappy childhood, do you choose love anyways, and move forward? or do you let it become your villain origin story? porky refuses to grow up, to such an extreme degree, that he's gotta drag everybody down into neverland with him. thinks he's got human nature all figured out, when really - kid dropped out in eighth grade - his expertise starts at the middle school lunch table and ends at Lord of the Flies. where lucas seeks to bring about a brighter future, porky's terminally obsessed with the past. barfs up the same old hierarchical capitalist bullshit he grew up with. hoards memorabilia. makes monuments to his warped nostalgia, as if anyone on the nowhere islands knows or cares. even tries to mold lucas into a makeshift ness - one last final battle, one last chance for destiny to stop me, here, take this baseball bat, come get me, let's play. but it doesn't worrrrk, because the gilded past he aches for is long buried, and these people aren't actors in his self-aggrandizing biopic. where lucas wakes up and says, "i don't have to be the same coward i was yesterday," porky says, "me? change? not a chance in hell." even if it costs him everything. porky's real worst nightmare is a world that moves on without him. once he's trapped in his time capsule, that's exactly what he's got in store.

i think he's the sunk cost fallacy incarnate. the sheer momentum of a thousand horrible decisions he can never turn back on. earthbound porky might get a little bit of slack, sure. but given a bazillion years worth of opportunities to change, mother 3 porky actively chose to get worse. what fucks me up most is how real he is. can't call a villain like this "insane", or even terribly exaggerated, when i'm lookin' out the window these days at billionaires, covid deniers, fuckin' terfs and maga hats. some people really would sooner die, or become all-consuming monsters, than admit they were wrong. it's all or nothing. in his eyes, either he's a visionary hero, or everything he's ever done was irredeemably reprehensible - and all the torment and criticism and loneliness he endured was therefore deserved. he can't bear the weight of it, so he simply doesn't. that's what underpins his character, to me. like. the moment he'd admit fault, or apologize, or express an ounce of regret? he'd cease to be porky. denying himself the human capacity to grow, forever, just to spare his fragile ego. could almost pity him. almost.

a perfect villain for both of the stories he terrorizes, and my favorite villain in anything ever. when itoi said "porky is truly a poem in himself" he wasn't kidding.

[april13th2009]

Every day is just.

Thinks about Meenah as a character who doesn't want to feel as though she's hurting her friends and cares more about that than actually not hurting her friends. Thinks about "you know how it is someones gotta take care of the guy anyways" and the equation of dehumanization with care and the Beforean blood hierarchy as a systemic ableism analogy. Thinks about the perception of disabled people as burdens and Meenah's abdication being about not wanting to be chained down to anything. Thinks about Meenah as a character desperate to feel like she has autonomy/control in her life, but not necessarily wanting power, as more responsibility feels like less control. Thinks about social differences in Alternia vs Beforus leading to Meenah choosing to abdicate on one world but not the other. Thinks about Porrim's musings on fate where she references the life decisions of Mindfang and the Dolorosa (separately) and about the potential effect of that knowledge on her relationship with Aranea. Thinks about Aranea's fate vs free will talk with Terezi. Thinks about how similar Kankri's insecurities are to Meenah's and Aranea's, and how much more like them he probably would've ended up being if the Signless had been as shit a person as Mindfang or the Condesce. Thinks about the insidiousness of "I'd address my involvement with that, 8ut you seem to 8e tapping your foot so I think I'll just skip over that part of the story" and wonders if Aranea like Meenah felt guilt over actions never taken by her but by someone she spoke of in first person. Thinks about how I love Meenah when she's well-written and hate half the writing choices made with her. Thinks about how I [said through gritted teeth] like the vast majority of the writing choices made for Aranea, even if I'm screaming and crying about how they gave me the most autistic girl ever and then made her a Mindfang fan.

Thinks about Latula Pyrope's internalized sexism and how her personality revolves around "yeah I'm a girl BUT I still have value and deserve respect because I'm so good at [things that one can't easily or safely do while blind] let me prove myself please" and her influence on Terezi's mental state during the timeskip. Thinks about Latula's black lipstick and apparent eyeliner despite always wearing sunglasses, and how on her sprite it looks like her shoes have heels despite her constant skateboarding, and how cool it would've been if Terezi was butch. Thinks about how we see Terezi rping with Nepeta and flarping with Vriska and Team Charge and playfully flirting with Dave and Karkat and how over time every one of those people she was closest to was either killed and/or someone she distanced herself from until she had no one. And then until she had Vriska again. Thinks about how the moment I heard Terezi's "luck doesn't actually matter" line I was convinced she would kill Vriska and cheered aloud at being proven right. Thinks about Vriska killing Tavros and Tavros refusing to kill Vriska and Tavrisprite killing themself. Thinks about how the Vriska godtier scene was my favorite thus far in the entire comic and Tavros could be such a good character if Hussie also gave a shit about his characterization when Vriska wasn't there. Thinks about Vriska kissing Tavros as another way of challenging him, meaning that she knew he didn't want it. Thinks about Vriska kissing Tavros because she wanted to make him more like herself and SHE wanted to be given affection but could only conceptualize it through adversity. Thinks about the Summoner loving and killing Mindfang and Tavros doing neither for Vriska- “Too l8 to kiss me, too l8 to kill me”. Thinks about how Vriska grew up with a primary source stating that the person she idolized, who she had survived through emulating, was a rapist, and the effects that had on Vriska’s conceptualization of consent. Thinks about Mindfang brainwashing the Dolorosa to love her vs Vriska not being able to bear doing the same to Tavros. Thinks about Mindfang making the Dolorosa question her free will vs Vriska trying to force Tavros to take more initiative. Thinks about Vriska's Captain Hook parallels (pirate missing an arm and an eye, waiting for a character representing time to come kill her) and her fairy dress. Thinks about Kanaya making that for her, and the kiss acting as a power play against Kanaya too; Tavros was her friend. Thinks about how annoying it is when moirallegiance gets reduced to being wholesome besties by fans, when in canon no troll social dynamic on Alternia can be separated from their larger social norms facilitating abuse. Thinks about how trolls also had quadrants prescratch and wonders how Beforean social norms impacted that. Thinks about how annoying it was of the romance explanation to go "oh yeah being in a matespritship is just like normal human romance, moving on" instead of giving us anything new/more interesting. Thinks about "she keeps 8ugging me. 8ugging and fussing and meddling… I guess it's flattering that she wants to talk to me so much though. I guess I don't mind. It's cool". Thinks about how Vriska, having methodically destroyed her relationship with Kanaya, cries for her attention in Alterniabound by mockingly implying that it was Tavros Kanaya liked. Thinks about how glad I am that Kanaya got out of that relationship. Thinks about how, at Rose's "strive to pacify me as I scuffle down this black corridor" comment, Kanaya immediately asserts that she doesn't want to do that, and thinks about how HAPPY I am for her to be setting healthy boundaries. Thinks about how my favorite character Terezi will never beat the Vriskaliking allegations ever in her life.

Thinks about my stupid little webcomic thinks about my stupid little webcomic thinks about my stupid little webcomic

[ladytauria]

Tim and Cass are two very unhinged people that understand each other of course they'd share

yessss ofc!!!

god, i bet they have like. absolutely 0 boundaries

ik we’ve talked before abt how at this point steph, tim, & cass probably just share a closet at this point but it’s gotta be even worse w/ cass & tim

if either of them mark leftovers as theirs, OBVIOUSLY the other one is okay to eat it.

showing up unannounced to the other’s safe houses / homes and just crawling into bed together.

showering together, especially if they’re tired and just wanna crash. also bc it’s more practical to have someone who can get your back, duh. & it saves water!

cass, however, does not where WE duties with tim <3 this is a burden he must bear alone… 😂

[congregamus]

Gotta go somewhere

So my mental health has been very poor for most of this year, and it is starting to take a worrying toll on me. There's a lot to talk about, obviously, and whatever it is probably lives here, at least in part, so I will refrain from review and go directly into whatever is next

My contemplation game is strong again, so that's something to be glad of, but it has been of necessity and not purely of love of "God" and the inner temple. I have had to be contemplative to keep myself together, and it burdens me that my spirituality could be rightly accused of transactionality lately. To which end: Psalm 31.

You see, I am panic attack-adjacent at all times these days. The buzzy language about this is to say that my nervous system is severely dysregulated. Fight-Flight-Freeze seems like a zipcode to me these days. And I require some things for this to resolve itself, none of which I have access to right now, and none of which might I be able to afford, even when granted limited access by becoming re-insured.

Please know that I know my privilege that I'm not dodging bombs right now, but my body/nervous system is absolutely convinced otherwise, and I am on the verge of system collapse. Like everything else, right? Letztlich ist alles metaphorisch.

It has become clearer to me lately that much of what I have been afraid of happening is queued up next, or has already happened to some degree. The US has been unmasked as a nation that is not a democracy in any sense that is important to it. The powers of the global "West" are sliding quickly into ultra right-wing ideologies. There is an actual genocide happening in which the US is involved, the atrocities of which are being mightily suppressed, while what we see — when we can bear to look — is already so monstrous as to be traumatizing simply to witness. Never mind what it is to undergo or survive.

I am not equipped to handle it, neither am I free to ignore it. It feels like it's tearing me apart. I understand that this is not about me. But I have no direct access to other perspectives or experiences, so I may only report these things.

I am studying again using books by Ms. Bourgeault, after a long season of lectures with her mentor, the late Fr. Thomas Keating, so I am bearing these things mystically as best I am able, which, at the moment, is not so well. My self-judgement is unnecessary because, spiritually speaking at least, this is a crucifixion moment, and one doesn't "succeed" or "fail" at that. One just dies.

This is distressing to me not only because it fucking sucks, but because one of metaphors insisted on by my consciousness is "performance." This means that what "spiritual" people call my "egoic self" wants a positive review of my inner torment. ("Did it move anyone? What did The Kansas City Sun say about the effectiveness of my writhing?") I do understand how counterproductive this is, but I verbalize it because to do otherwise is to resist it, and that is an act in which I have no interest, and frankly for which I have no energy left. The world is on fire, and I apparently want someone to notice my pain, for fuck's sake. It's not a great look, but it's what I look like right now, at least in some contexts.

I had another one of those 13-hour days yesterday, so I'm not doing anything important today. I don't have to take an "official" mental health day, because I don't report to anyone on Fridays, but I really need to allow myself to breathe into whatever refuge I can find for myself.

The class yesterday was hard. I'm still prone to COVID-fatigue on top of this hyper vigilance machine I apparently carry around with me, which itself takes a lot of fuel to run.

Thank you if you read any of this. I'm going to go and do the best I can by myself, which starts with taking my medicine, which I can do right off today. Thank Goddess I don't have to "raw dog" this whole day with only the brain chemistry I was born with, or have since developed.