#why do I have to suffer and be depressed and deal with this bullshit?

[praisethegabs]

OLDER

leon kennedy x reader

synopsis: he's getting older, and he knows that. not believing in luck or in love, leon finds himself in a position of complete misfortune. he convinced himself he's not worthy of love, but that changes when he meets you.

warnings: angst with fluff ending, age gap, leon is very insecure about his age and the reader. strangers to lovers, mentions of smut, ptsd, alcoholism, depression, suicidal thoughts. reader is very delicate, kind, and patient. there's parts from the vendetta book and a few scenes from re6. it starts with re6!leon and ends with di!leon

word count: 15k

a/n: guess who's back? to celebrate the 1 year re4r anniversary, I decided to post this one shot I was working for almost two months. I'm into my angst era again. also i wrote this based on this analysis i read, which made me think about the broken part of leon for a while, also this fic contains part of the vendetta book. feel free to leave comments, reblogs, tips, or positive critics. they're always very welcome ❤️

I. THE WEIGHT ON HIS SHOULDERS

Life can be a bitch sometimes.

This is what he says to himself when he finishes another bottle of whiskey. Every day, when he opens his eyes, he tries to stay positive, hoping his day will be different from his usual schedule; in the end, it is always the same bullshit. Over and over again. No apparent ending; always his solitude. 

But someday it must end, right? He can’t be fighting B.O.W.'s for the rest of his life, can he? Maybe someday he’ll finally settle down and have a peaceful day. Maybe, on this day, his nightmares will stop, and if he’s lucky, he’ll sleep for the entire night. No one can blame him for dreaming of a perfect life, and no one can take this from him. 

The government made him their slave, their deadly pet that follows and obeys every rule and command, and forced him to risk his neck almost every week to keep their country safe. What a bunch of assholes, he thinks to himself. Thing is, Leon hates himself for what he was forced to become. 

There is so much pain. So much suffering. He only wanted to be a cop — nothing more than that. He wanted to deal with simple things — not bioterrorists ready to blow up the entire world, not grotesque mutations that defy the natural order of things. Certainly, if he had a choice to go back and change that night, he wouldn’t go to Raccoon City. He would've stayed in his cheap hotel room; he would have obeyed Marvin’s orders to not go in there. 

But now he’s something else. The rookie cop who had to survive that night died. He can’t even recognize himself anymore, and sometimes, he blames himself for it. No more than he blames the government for it; if he could go back… 

His days are filled with this emptiness — the sensation that he might never see his happy ending. Ada? Yeah, sure. He knows he can’t trust her, and God knows where she is or what she’s doing. He was so naive to fall for her like he did. While on his free day out of the office, he finds himself with a certain envy of happy couples. He can’t stop thinking: why can’t he have the same? Why can’t he be happy for once?

Getting older sucks. At this point, Leon thinks and has already convinced himself that he doesn’t belong to anyone and that he won’t be able to have someone. To experience love and being loved, he wants to be wanted. He’s getting older and still doesn't have anyone by his side. That’s the price he pays for having this life, and he still blames the government for taking it from him. He doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt something for someone, and at this moment of his life, it doesn’t matter to him anymore. Leon had already accepted the fact that he'd die alone. Maybe he’ll get a cat to keep him company. Since he’s not much of a dog person since Raccoon City, maybe he’ll name her a cute name; who knows? That’s probably the closest he’ll get to having something waiting for him at home. 

Leon doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt happy. Since Raccoon City, he doesn't know what happiness means, and sometimes, on very rare occasions, he envies people around him. He feels like his entire life has no purpose and no meaning, and he’s completely faded to emptiness, to a sad existence based on killing bioweapons and serving his country. Does he feel proud about it? No, he doesn’t. 

It’s been a very long time since Leon felt pride. That feeling died and is now buried in the remains of Raccoon City, inside that police station where his life turned upside down. Now he’s only an empty shell of what he used to be. He’s rotting inside, craving something he knows he can’t have, and there’s nothing but a void inside him, consuming every inch of him. 

After serving his country for years, he started to get used to the idea that maybe he wasn’t made for a happy ending, and he shouldn’t bother with such things. He can’t afford the luxury of being with someone, because it means being vulnerable, and it also means he would have to open himself to things he swore he would never feel again. No, thank you. 

Things at work aren’t exactly the best, either. Years ago, Leon started to question himself about whether the government cared about their people, especially the ones he had to kill in order to save others. Leon couldn’t forget what happened in Spain — the entire village he was forced to end so he wouldn’t die. Perhaps they could’ve saved them; possibly they could’ve had a chance; maybe if… and this is where he dozes off thinking about the infinite possibilities. 

After what happened in Raccoon City, Leon knew he had lost faith. He knew things would never be the same after everything he saw that day. Sometimes, he finds himself thinking about Annette and William Birkin. He feels his body shivering when he remembers he had to fight for his life, clinging to something bigger than him. Survival. 

II. RINSE AND REPEAT

He has no social skills, and doesn't know how to interact with people anymore. It all feels weird and uncomfortable, and it makes him feel terrible. Sometimes he feels like he’s stuck in time and can’t have a proper conversation with someone normal. The worst part of his life is that he feels he’s carrying a weight on his shoulders that it wasn’t supposed to be his in the first place. He has the weight of the world with him, and there is no one to help him through it. Life made him depressed, cold and distant. Life has built him this way; he's shaped himself into something he’s not, and he can’t find himself. He’s lost. 

Leon can’t stop having nightmares about Raccoon City.

At this point, he just accepted that they wouldn't go away. It feels like he’s trapped inside his own mind, and there’s no turning back. Sometimes at night, he keeps looking at his ceiling imagining a different life, where he was a cop and happy. Usually, his nightmares are so dark and deep that when he wakes up, he finds solace in the sunlight, feeling relieved that he survived another night. When he doesn't sleep, when he’s too scared to close his eyes, he cries quietly, protected by the walls of his room, searching for assurance and a promise that everything will be fine. It doesn’t always work, but now he knows he can control his fears, and somehow, it helps him feel safe.

This time, his mission nearly got him killed. His entire body was full of bruises and wounds, and every part of him hurt. He felt his body swallowing a little, and he felt terrible again. He has blood under his nails, and he washes himself at least three times to make sure there’s nothing more on him than the burden of being a slave for the government.

Leon is paranoid; he can’t stand the fact that he has blood on his hands. If he sees a spot, he’ll clean it until there’s nothing left, and maybe he’s now too obsessed with the idea of being clean. It makes him feel sick to the bones, because he knows what he does and what it means. He knows that this guilt won’t be washed away like the blood on his hands, and certainly won’t get away from his head like it does from his clothes whenever he launders them. It’s a pretty shitty routine, but he’s used to it. 

Now he finds himself in a very dark place; he can’t eat without feeling guilty. He can’t do the basics of his chores because he can’t stop thinking about his life, regretting every decision he made. Everything he does seems mechanical, like he’s repeating the process over and over again, a perfect killing machine that has no one to care about. On Fridays, he finds himself sitting on his couch, in complete silence, holding an empty bottle. He knows he can’t drown himself in alcohol, no matter how much he wants it or how tempting it sounds, because the liquid doesn’t affect him anymore. It doesn't make the pain go away or silence the horrors he saw during his life. 

After three weeks inside his house, locked inside his room, Leon woke up with a strange feeling inside his chest. Something was telling him that this day would be different, like a big change would happen. For the first time in weeks, he decided to leave his place for a simple walk. He could do that; he could walk into the market and buy some real food or maybe get a haircut. He felt that he was able to allow himself to have an ordinary day. 

After taking a long shower, Leon decided to wear cozy and comfortable clothes. He was so used to his brutal routine that he almost forgot what it was like to have a normal day, but this time, he was willing to try something different. He took a deep breath before leaving his house, and when he felt the soft, cold breeze reaching his skin, he knew he could do that.

Step by step, Leon found himself walking towards the market, even enjoying the lovely view he had from his neighborhood. He doesn’t remember it to be so… gray. Sure, he knows what winter is, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually stayed at his home during the winter. His lips turn into a small smirk, and he thinks how silly he is. When he reaches the small market, which is more of a store, he walks slowly, looking at what he might be buying - he’s done with frozen food. He stops at the veggie section and keeps looking at it, confused. 

“These aren’t fresh” a sweet voice is enough to wake him up from his trance. He looks in that direction, and all he sees is you.

“How can you tell that?” he asks you in visible confusion, which makes you smile. And that smile was enough to sparkle something oddly inside him. 

“Color, smell, texture,” you explained, still smiling and showing him a fresh vegetable. “This one is fresh."

"Thanks,” Leon replied awkwardly, taking the vegetable from your hand and placing it in his basket.

“You don’t come here very often. I know almost everyone who comes to buy food here,” you said next, glancing at him with curiosity. 

“I… have a busy schedule,” he says, still sounding awkward.

“Really? Well, you should definitely take some time to buy healthy food. I’m pretty sure you do a lot of workouts to keep your body in shape” you giggle, noticing the size of his muscles, which makes his face turn red.

“I’ll keep that in mind” Leon managed to say, although he wanted to dissipate from Earth.

“I can help with that” you suddenly said, analyzing him more carefully.

“With what?” Leon frowned, already feeling his heart beating ten times faster.

“I noticed you’re having difficulty with your right arm, which makes me think you got it hurt. If you’re planning to buy more, I can help with your bags” you offered, very polite and kind, catching him by surprise. 

“Thanks” Leon says, finding himself smiling, which is unusual. 

At first, having some company after so much time alone made him think it was strange. He wasn’t feeling ready to have a small conversation, but you didn’t seem bothered. In fact, you were enjoying walking to this stranger's house in complete silence. Fifteen minutes later, you were in front of his house in an awkward silence between the two of you. 

“I guess this is it” you smiled at him, and Leon found himself lost in your smile. 

“Yeah. Thank you” he said for the fifth time, which made you giggle a little. 

“Anything for a customer” you said to him, giving him his bags. “My parents are the owners, so…”

“You don’t seem too old” he said, and after a second, he felt more weird. “I mean…”

“Nah, it’s ok. This isn’t the first time people say I'm younger than I look”. You smiled again, thinking that this old man was very silly and cute. “I’m 25, don’t worry”

“I’m Leon, by the way” He finally says his name to you, stretching his hand in a very educated way.

“Nice to meet you, Leon” you said before shaking his hand. 

Leon took at least three weeks to return to the market. 

His initial thoughts about you were that he definitely felt weird in your presence. Maybe he felt that way because of his lack of social skills and because he really sucks when the subject is social conversation. He caught himself thinking too hard about the visual and evident contrast between the two of you; you were young, bright and smart, with a great future ahead of you, and plus, you came from a loving family. Leon, on the other hand, was an orphan used and abused by the government, their pet and a man who only knew pain and brutality. 

However, you were the first friendly face he saw after years. The way you were smiling and giggling at his awkward answers, it definitely made him feel something he thought he would never feel again. It was like you found the rookie cop inside him, and despite the fact that he barely said something, he felt normal around you. And that was more than enough. How could it happen so fast? 

“How can I help you?” you said before noticing it was him. “Oh, hi” 

“Hi” Leon is welcomed by that smile of yours. “I… um…”

“You came to buy more veggies?” you ask, still smiling at him. You think it’s cute to see him without any words. 

“No… I just came because I’m looking for food seasoning” Leon said, his face slightly turning red. “I’m trying new recipes, so…” 

“Yeah? What have you been trying?” you ask with sudden enthusiasm, leading him to the part with seasonings. 

“Nothing too risky” he answers vaguely, following you closely.

“What kind of seasonings do you like?” You turn back to face him as you show him the shelves with different types of seasonings. 

“I’m more into spicy flavors” Leon tells you, his attention going to the shelves. 

“It suits you” you said, giving him some space. You saw him smiling again. 

"How does spicy seasoning suit me?” he asks with a hint of curiosity. 

“You might think I’m weird, but… seeing from outside, you look like someone with a rough agenda and, apparently, whatever you do is dangerous. Personally, I think you suit perfectly spicy things” you said, hoping it would make sense. 

“I think I got your point,” Leon said, and then he found himself smiling for the second time. 

“Lucky me, right?” you laugh, walking back to the cashier. “Is this all for today?”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Leon nods, grabbing his wallet to pay for the seasonings. 

“How’s your arm?” you ask, taking his money and counting it. 

“It's better. I had to take a few painkillers, but it’s definitely better” he said, avoiding you for a few moments. 

“That’s great. I know a few herbs to help with the pain” you said, giving him the change from his purchase. 

“How so?” Leon asks with another hint of curiosity. 

“A great sorcerer doesn’t reveal her secrets” you wink playfully at him. “You need to earn that, soldier” 

“And how could I earn your secrets, great sorcerer?” Leon asks, enjoying your playful mood. 

“Maybe you can invite me for dinner and show me your cooking skills” you shake your shoulders and, for the second time, catching him by surprise. 

“You would love that, wouldn't you?” Leon said, and a slight smirk appeared on his lips. 

“Who knows?” You wink playfully at him, with another suggestive smile on your lips. 

The world has gone to hell, Leon thinks to himself. 

He starts to contemplate everything that has happened to him. When did this madness begin? It was back in Raccoon City? Oh, no. It is way older than that. Maybe his collapse started when his family died, and he was left an orphan; what happened in Raccoon City wasn’t really the beginning of his nightmare. It was the cherry on top of the torments that would become his life. 

Now that he’s coming back home from another mission, he can’t stop thinking how his life could’ve been if Umbrella had never happened. If those bioweapons were never created, defying every natural order. He looks outside his window, and he just can’t stop blaming himself for Tall Oaks. 

What has become of this world? Leon thinks. Where did I go wrong? 

His life is an entire mistake. It just goes on and on. His family first, then Raccoon City. Tricell, Los Illuminados, Uroboros and, finally, that nightmare at Tall Oaks. Leon takes a deep breath. He feels his hands shaking and closes his eyes, forcing himself to forget. How silly he is!

The future is a hell that’s only getting worse. 

III. THE PAIN OF REMEMBERING

You weren't expecting Leon to find the note with your number that you left on his seasonings, the same way you weren't expecting him to call you.

However, something about him got your attention the minute he stepped foot inside the store. He wasn't like anything you had seen before; he was definitely something else. 

After almost four weeks since the last time you saw him, you got a call from an unknown number. It was pretty late at night, but your curiosity won the battle within you, and you had to pick up the phone. With a groggy voice of sleep, you saw the number and frowned.

“Hello?” You ask, followed by a big yawning. It was one in the morning. 

“Hi… um, it's Leon” he says with some urgency, to which you jump from your bed. “I'm sorry to wake you up” 

“No, don't worry. I wasn't sleeping” you lied, forcing yourself not to yawn again. 

“I know it's late, but… I was thinking about that dinner…” he says, sounding somehow hopeful. “Maybe you could come later and… talk?” 

“Yeah, sure. Can you pick me up?” You ask him, and a smile appears on your lips as you answer him. 

“Of course. At seven?” 

“At seven, it is,” you smiled again. 

As soon as the call ended, he was in complete shock. For some reason, Leon felt you wouldn’t accept his invitation, especially after being alone for so long. His heart was beating faster inside his chest, and he had to remind himself that it was just a casual date between… two friends? Could you possibly be his friend? 

Leon felt anxious, something he only felt when he was on his missions. 

Suddenly, the mere thought of having you at his home with him sounded terrifying. He felt like it would end in a complete disaster, and you wouldn’t see him ever again. Then, Leon had to stop and calm himself down, knowing it was his trauma trying to get the best of him. After everything he went through in his life, being able to trust someone proved to be a difficult task. He felt scared, and his mind was racing with thousands of different thoughts, each worse than the other. 

Betrayal is the word that defines Leon. 

He was betrayed before and multiple times, which left him with a lot of insecurities and traumas to the point he feels that he can’t trust anyone, which led to another set of insecurities. Leon feels that he isn’t enough anymore, that he can’t provide the proper attention someone might need from him, and that he can’t be in a relationship because of his problems. The truth is, he can’t be in a relationship until he leaves his trauma behind, and he knows it. That’s the easy part, but the hard one is how to let it go. 

Later that day, Leon finally had the courage to clean his house. He needed some motivation to get rid of his depression, and nothing was better than finally allowing himself to have some company besides his solitude. His house smelled pretty good, everything was clean, and his furniture was even shining. He opened the curtains, and the sunlight entered his living room. He took a deep breath with the fresh air that came inside, and smiled, feeling somehow proud and happy. 

At seven, you were waiting outside the store, scrolling through your phone, when you saw Leon approaching on his motorcycle. You were gorgeous, wearing a beautiful dress and covered by a black leather jacket — the perfect contrast that suited you well. Leon was completely mesmerized by the sight of you - so beautiful, he thought. 

“Hey, there” you waved at him as he parked next to you. 

“Hi,” Leon replies, sounding embarrassed. “You look beautiful”

“You too, handsome” you said playfully, taking the helmet from his hand and sitting behind him, your hands holding him tight. You didn’t notice the small blush on his cheeks. 

"Are you okay back there?” Leon asks you, making sure you were fine before starting the engines. 

“Yeah, I’m fine” you said, nodding your head, and smiling when he started to drive his bike to his place. 

You two didn’t take long enough to reach his place. Leon offered you his hand so you had support to get out of his bike, and he even opened the front door for you. He led you inside his house, and everything inside was enough to show you the kind of man he was; his home was big, but simple. He had a lot of comfort there, but it seemed like he didn't spend much time at his place. You saw some photos at the fireplace, a few when he was younger, at some training camp with his possible friends. 

“How old were you when you took these?” you asked him with curiosity. 

“I was twenty-one” he said, grabbing the wine and the glasses. 

“So young” you whispered, noticing that in some pictures, he was sad. 

Leon took another deep breath. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t he be just normal for once? Why did everything have to happen to him? You were standing there, so gracefully, observing his old photographs, so young and full of life, with no baggage with you. Someone actually happy and alive. If you knew how much he envies this. 

“People say that our eyes are the windows to our soul” you turn to face him, noticing his sudden silence. “Yours are so sad and broken… what happened to your neck?”

Instinctively, his hand reaches his neck, and Leon feels the bandage perfectly secured on his skin, with a small spot of blood. Gladly, it was enough to change the subject, because he was shocked enough by what you said about his broken soul. If you only knew. 

“I, um… got hurt on my job. It’s nothing.” Leon tries to avoid speaking about his past. 

“It seems pretty bad” you step closer to him, your hand gently touching his bandage. 

“It’s nothing… trust me” Leon smiles weakly, looking down. His heart is beating so fast inside his chest that he could explode any time. “I’m fine” 

“Then explain why you are so nervous around me” you whispered, now softly touching his cheek. 

Leon felt he stopped breathing, like his lungs decided to leave him alone and deal with the matter himself; how powerful your touch felt. It was enough to break every wall he built around himself for years; it was enough to make him break. And it was only a soft and kind touch. He slowly closed his eyes, his breath becoming normal again, and he allowed himself to just feel it. 

“I don’t know what on earth happened to you…” your voice is full of kindness as you speak, now seeing him hold your hand as you keep touching his cheek. “But I’m always here if you decide to talk” 

Leon was reaching his breaking point. 

He was used to being a slave, always using his body, mind and soul to provide safety for the others without them knowing one damn thing about it; he was used to always being alone, to the point that kindness was a strange feeling, almost not existing at all and that he didn’t deserve it. But here you are. 

“It hurts to remember,” he confessed, his voice a low whisper. “I tried to forget it, but I can’t” 

When he felt you wrapping your arms around his body and your warmth embracing him, Leon felt his eyes getting wet. He was so deeply touch starved, craving something so human, that when he got it, he knew he was going to break. His mind was racing, and his body was trying to process the feeling and react in the proper way. He felt so many emotions at once that he thought he was going insane. 

“Please, keep holding me” Leon begs, his arms finding their way through your back as he hugs you back. “Because I know I’ll fall if you let me go” 

After that night, it took almost two months until Leon decided to show up at the store to see you again. He felt nervous, but at this point, he realized that, for some reason, he couldn’t stay away from you; he felt that you had some type of magnetism enough to keep him close, which made him feel comfortable, something he hadn't felt in a while. 

However, before he went to the store to see you, he needed courage. Leon thought you would be upset with him after being ghosted for almost two months, although he felt responsible for it, since he never told you the nature of his job or why he was so absent. Sadly, Leon was again in a spiral of sadness and depression. His last mission was a disaster, and Leon knew he had no control over his feelings again. He was sitting on his bed, contemplating the bottle in his hands. The curtains were closed, and the atmosphere inside his room was darker. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, and then, he’s there again. 

June 29, 2013. Tall Oaks, USA

“It might create more problems than it solves…” the voice of the president echoes inside his head as he points his gun towards the said person.

Leon doesn't recognize the man in front of him, or what he used to be. He keeps his gun raised, his grasp around the trigger getting tight by the second he makes his decision. His voice comes and goes, creating a tense atmosphere around him. 

“Bio-organic weapons are a global threat and we are partly to blame…” Benford said once to Leon when he expressed his desire to expose the truth about the Raccoon City Incident. He looks at the living corpse in front of him. Tick tack. He knows what he needs to do. “I’ve always valued your friendship, Leon… It’s time to take responsibility and end this mess” 

He shakes his head, somehow returning to his reality. 

“Stay right where you are!” Leon said, his voice sounding cracked and angry. The corpse starts walking towards him and as a reflex, his grip gets more tight. “Mr. President!” 

The zombie starts walking towards him and the woman next to him. He hesitates for a moment, unsure and sure about what he needs to do. Every part of him screams and begs, trying to find a solution. He knows it’s too late. He can’t save the president, he can’t save anyone. 

“Don’t make me do this” Leon gritted his teeth, trying to find any reason to avoid what needed to be done. It happens fast. Adam Benford, the former president of the United States and now a corpse, throws himself towards her. “Adam!” Leon screams.

He pulls the trigger. 

And there’s only blood. 

He gets out of his thoughts when he hears someone knocking on his front door. It doesn't take too long for him to finally stand up and see who’s there, and, inside his mind, he’s already preparing himself to tell this person to leave him alone, but his entire demeanor changes when he opens the door, and all he sees there is you. 

“You’re back” you smiled warmly at him, your cheeks red because of the cold temperature. “I wasn’t sure you were home” 

“What are you doing here?” Leon’s first question isn't as welcome as you thought it would be. 

“A friend can’t see a friend?” you answered simply, and the smile never left your lips. 

“I’m sorry” he sighs, giving you space to enter his place. “I didn’t mean to be rude” 

“Don’t worry” you said, removing your scarf and hat. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, I guess” Leon nods slowly, and you notice he’s not entirely well. 

“Breakfast?” you ask him, wanting to confirm your suspicions, and he nods quietly. 

You had difficulty finding yourself inside his place, since you’ve been there only once. You notice that he’s quiet, and despite that fact, which is completely normal for him, you know that there’s something wrong. So, you decided to go simple with his breakfast. Almost forty minutes later, you came back with a plate full of pancakes, crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, and some orange juice. 

He leisurely used his knife and fork to eat the food you made. The careful manner in which he ate wasn’t due to his cautious nature, but rather because he had a terrible hangover that messed with his coordination, and rushing could easily lead to a slip of the hand and his shaking. Leon was a pretty man, and he could easily take on leading roles in Hollywood blockbusters. However, he currently sported a scruffy beard, exuded a weary atmosphere, and radiated fatigue and discontent. 

“I think I reached rock bottom,” Leon finally says, but he avoids your gaze at all costs. 

“Then I’ll help you get out of there” you said with kindness, your pinky finger interlocking with his. 

IV. GRIEF AND BARGAIN 

The path to healing isn’t always easy, and now Leon is aware of that. 

The year is now 2014 and he’s struggling to forget what happened a year ago. Sometimes, when his mind is quiet, he starts to wonder. Is it possible that there could have been a world without Umbrella and zombies? Leon scoffed and shook off his sweet dreams. A world without zombies? That's something from a long time ago. The future is only going to become a worse hell. Then, he has to remind himself about the great things he has in life. You are one of these things.

Although he has your support, he knows that he’ll only get better walking this path by himself. The winter deciduous forest looked like branches made of human bones. A mixed forest with a walking path spread out. This is a high-end residential area in Bethesda, Maryland, where congressmen and bureaucrats commuting to Washington spend their nights. In the depths of a thicket, there was a slightly open gentle sloping area where the desired building was located. It was a designer house filled with a sense of openness, with all outer walls covered in glass, and it appeared like a model intended to showcase beautiful scenery rather than a place for people to live in. 

The luxury was excessive to the point where it seemed somewhat like a toy. Leon had hidden himself in the thicket away from the road and was monitoring the designer house through binoculars with night vision capabilities. It was an unacknowledged fact, but a traitor to the country was living in this mansion. Senator Steven Air, who had sold information to a bioterrorist organization, was one of many government officials who had been involved in the incident in Tall Oaks where the President became a victim of B.O.W. Simmons, the President's aide, was among those who betrayed the government. And Leon still blames himself for what happened that night. 

Currently, fifteen members of the Division of Security Operations (DSO) and two stealth drones have surrounded Steven's mansion. It was necessary to capture him and extract plenty of information before bringing him to trial. According to reports from aerial surveillance, Steven was on his way home by car from Washington. The distance from the White House to Bethesda was approximately twelve kilometers, and it would take about thirty minutes if he drove fast. Leon shifted his focus to his shoulder holster with a handgun. Of course, capturing him alive was best, but there was no hesitation in shooting the traitor if he resisted.

Leon suddenly remembers. This is Bethesda. The name is derived from the Bible. From the Gospel of John–

“Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie — the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years."

Jesus healed the man who had been sick for 38 years. God's love and His miracles. Bravo. That's exactly what this world needs in this hell.

"Target approaching."

As he thinks about the Bible, a communication comes through his earpiece. It's a report from the overhead surveillance team flying a drone. A roadway that weaves through a grove of mixed trees was approached by Stephen's white Porsche, an elegant luxury car resembling a graceful white swan. Perhaps dozens, hundreds of people may have died to buy that car. Such is the life of a villain.

"Visual on the target vehicle. Secure upon my GO signal," Leon whispered into his radio microphone. Both the earphones and microphone were of a bone conduction type that excelled in noise resistance. It converts vocal cord vibrations transmitted through the skull directly into voice signals. It was a perfect gadget for special operations where one couldn't make loud noises or miss instructions in the midst of noise. 

The Porsche approached the garage. 

"GO," Leon said sharply. 

At that moment, two SUVs that had been hiding in a blind spot by the roadway started their engines like barking dogs and closed in on the Porsche at tremendous speed, trapping it in a pincer movement as planned. The driver of the Porsche was Stephen's secretary, with a bodyguard in the passenger seat and Stephen himself in the back seat. 

Suddenly trapped from the front and back, they were thrown into confusion. Leon wondered – would the bodyguard or secretary resist? There was no doubt that they were carrying guns. He didn't want to give them unnecessary visibility, but he would deal with it when the time came. The agents jumped out of the trees. In the next moment, Stephen's Porsche exploded. 

A deafening roar and shock. The high-performance explosive device planted under the car's body lifted the Porsche several meters off the ground, engulfing it in flames. And caught up in it, the DSO's SUVs overturned as well. The window glass of all the cars shattered into tiny pieces, the car bodies twisted and burned the people inside. All six agents from the team on foot, including Leon himself, were blown backwards by the force of the blast. Leon still thinks like he’s floating in the air, an eerie feeling of weightlessness that ended when he felt his body slamming against a tree trunk. In those fleeting moments, his consciousness waned, and it was the closest he had come to death.

Yet, it seemed the Grim Reaper was not yet ready to claim him. 

Pain, intense and searing, jolted Leon’s awareness back to life, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. Leon struggled to his feet, and he threw up, retching repeatedly. His consciousness ebbed and flowed like waves, and he knew that rest was essential. Leon suspected that his ribs and collarbone were either fractured or cracked, but, fortunately, his arms and legs remained unbroken. Gritting his teeth, he managed to force his dislocated left shoulder joint back into place, enduring the excruciating pain, as he tried to work out which way was up. 

There are bruises littered across his skin, scratches and abrasions where the bark of the tree tore his flesh. The shock of the explosion and the fear of death… an unpleasant feeling of internal organs turning over welled up. No matter how many times he experienced it, he could never get used to the terror of a close-range explosion. The air was knocked from his lungs; his breathing temporarily stopped; his eardrums were about to burst; and his knees were weak. He can barely stand. Leon finally sits up, willing his agent training to give him a sense of urgency even though his body is screaming in agony. The stench of gasoline fills the air, but Leon can barely smell it. His sense of smell and hearing are both almost gone. What the hell happened? Leon asked himself in front of the burning Porsche.

He feels paralyzed. 

It was three in the morning when your phone started to ring. 

It was an unknown number, and you had to fight the necessity of hanging up; something inside you told you to pick up the call, which you did. It was Leon, and the way his voice sounded on the phone made you aware that something bad had happened. Terrible, nonetheless. You drove to his location, and you found yourself shocked when you found smoke, fire and the smell of gasoline among a lot of government agents and military personnel. You found Leon sitting in the back of an ambulance, his body covered by a blanket, as he was examined by a paramedic. Not only that, but you had credentials to enter that isolated area, and the way those agents were rushing from one side to the other, talking on their phones, made it clear that someone important had died. You made your way towards Leon, not daring to look around, and when you reached him, you saw tears in his eyes. You hugged him tight, like you were holding the world in your hands. 

“It’s ok, I got you” you said to him, your words full of assurance and kindness. 

Leon refused to be taken to the hospital; instead, he asked you to drive him back home, since he felt he couldn’t do it on his own. The ride back to his place was silent, and you decided to respect his space, although you saw him trying to find solace in something real. He couldn’t stop playing with his finger, showing an elevated level of stress and anxiety. You have never seen him like this before. 

“Can you stay?” Leon suddenly asked when you pulled over in front of his house. “I… don’t want to be alone” 

“Yeah, sure” you nodded, noticing how vulnerable he was, which was odd. 

You heard him groaning in pain once he got out of your car, but he refused your help, insisting he was fine. Knowing him well at this point, you gently held his hand, offering nothing but your support, and Leon quietly appreciated your effort. You helped him sit on his couch and heard him mutter something only he could understand. Judging by the look on his face and the way his hands were still shaking, you knew he was in shock. 

“Do you have any first aid kits or something?” you asked him, hoping you would gain his attention. 

“I’m fine” Leon replies, his eyes fixated on his shaky hands. You sat next to him, holding his hands and scratching his skin softly. 

“It’s ok not to be okay." Your voice is almost a whisper as you look into his blue eyes. “You don’t have to be tough all the time” 

You saw him reach the breaking point. 

Feeling embraced by your kindness and safety, Leon finally allowed himself to feel his emotions — the same ones he fought hard to bury deep inside him — in the same place he swore he would never visit again. In the cozy atmosphere of his living room, having nothing but you as solace, the brunette agent gave himself a break, and when he did that, his eyes started to get watery.

After Raccoon City, Leon shut himself up so he wouldn’t be hurt ever again. He used to keep his emotions contained; he used to not think of them. He kept everything bottled up, because he knew he couldn’t handle it. Leon was so traumatized that the way he dealt with his feelings was to pretend they didn’t exist, in the first place. After Spain, it got worse. Nightmares after nightmares, the paranoia of still being infected with Las Plagas, everything that came after this. 

But here you are, telling him that it is ok not to be okay, that he doesn’t have to be tough, and that it is okay to feel and to be vulnerable. He couldn’t stop sobbing; his hands were still shaking, but he didn't even care about this at the moment. Gently, you started to play with his hair, your fingers slowly going up and down on his head, providing comfort and care — exactly what he’s been missing his entire life. 

“I lost them all” Leon started to say through sobs. “I saw them dead” 

“It wasn’t your fault” you assured him with calm words. 

“I failed them," he says as he looks at you, his blue eyes shining with tears as they fall through his skin. 

“That’s not true. You didn’t know the car was about to explode or whatever happened there” You tried to calm him down. 

“We were watching him; it was my responsibility to make sure they would be safe… it was my job to ensure that” Leon sobs again, and you can see he’s struggling to breathe due to his anxiety attack. 

“Listen, you’re too nervous right now. Come on, take a deep breath with me” you said, hoping he would listen and cope. 

Leon nods between sobs and takes several deep breaths to try to calm himself down. You took a glass of water and gave it to him, then you took his hand into yours, whispering words of assurance and kindness. You decided to put him to rest, and it wasn’t necessary to drag Leon into his bed; the moment you step foot inside his room, you can see how severe his depression is. Successfully, you were able to lay him down and remove at least his boots. Leon curled into his blankets and muffled his sobs with his pillows. 

“Do you want me to stay here until you fall asleep?” you ask, sitting on his bed with him, moving his hair from his eyes. He nodded silently. 

Slowly, his sobs turned into sniffs, and Leon finally fell asleep. It took almost an hour to calm him down completely, but now he was safe and sound into a peaceful slumber, or what appears to be. You don’t recall exactly when you fell asleep on his bed, but you certainly remember when you woke up to the sound of his screams. Leon never told you about his nightmares, and you weren’t expecting that. His chest was drenched in sweat, and he seemed like he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were filled with fear, and he was shaking head to toe. 

“Fuck” Leon mutters, his hand running through his hair. 

“What happened?” you ask him after turning the lights on. 

“Just a nightmare…” he whispers, trying to calm down again. 

“How frequent are they?” It was a bold question, but you needed to know. 

“Every night” Leon ignores your glance, focusing on his shaky hands again. 

“Here, drink it” you give him a glass of water with sugar to calm his nerves. You already had that glass with you the moment you went with him to his room. 

“Do you even like me?” Leon suddenly asks you. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re so kind, beautiful, and young, with so much in your future” Leon sighs heavily. “Why would you be with a… broken man like me? I have nothing to offer but traumas and the big baggage of my shitty life” 

The pressure you put on biting your lip was so intense that it was enough to cut your skin and make it bleed. 

“Who says you have nothing to offer? I don’t think that’s true. You’re a wonderful person, Leon. I can see it every day when you come to see me at the store. The way you smile whenever you are around me, the way your eyes shine…” you said to him, hoping it would be enough to give him some comfort. “I don’t see you as a broken person or a man with the baggage of a shitty life. I can’t imagine what must have happened to you, and I know it must be difficult and hard because that's what I see, but, Leon, the darkness around you doesn’t define who you are. Whatever life did to you, it doesn't dictate your present or future."

No matter how many kind words you say, it isn’t enough for him. Leon blames himself for what happened, and you know he won’t forget it so soon. How can he? Those men trusted him and followed him, and now, they’re all dead. Leon thinks he should’ve saved them, even though he knows he couldn’t guess the car was about to explode. 

“I wish I could heal your soul so you wouldn’t suffer anymore, but I can’t” you sigh, then look at his hand. “I wish I could fight all of your demons, but I can’t do that. I’m here and I don’t intend to leave you alone” 

After holding his hand, it was the first night Leon actually slept without any more nightmares. When he woke up the next morning, he felt his eyes heavy and he instantly remembered how he cried the night before after his entire squad was murdered. Then, he also remembered that you were there with him the whole time. Finally, he noticed how strange that feeling was - the feeling of being comforted instead of comforting others. It was a strange feeling indeed, but it was a good one. 

Lazily, he stood up from his bed and decided to look at himself in the mirror, washing his face and taking a moment to see the collateral damage caused by the bomb. There were a few bruises and cuts on his skin, but huge purple marks on his shoulder, which he dislocated. It still hurts, but it’s enough to keep him in the real world. He’s still alive.  

“Morning, princess” you greeted him in his kitchen. “I made breakfast” 

“You shouldn’t worry about that, y’know?” Leon says, leaning against his cabinet. 

“Too late for that. Now is my job to worry about ya” you said, opening the cabinet above your head on tiptoe, which made him smirk. “Are you feeling better?” 

“Yeah, I guess so” he says, nodding his head and helping you get the cornflakes. “Thank you… for sticking up with me last night” 

“You know I care about you, right? Since day one” you glance at him with a warm smile. “I really do” 

“I care about you, too” Leon blushes slightly. “More than I can tell” 

You know Leon pretty well at this point and you know he has trouble speaking of his feelings. You know he can’t express himself properly, and you ain’t stupid. You know someone has hurt him before and you understand why he is the way he is. Fortunately, you are very patient, and that’s enough for now, because you don’t mind giving him time and space. 

“I can look at your wounds; maybe I can help” you offered, finishing preparing the breakfast. 

“This means I finally earned your secrets?” Leon asks, a small smile on his lips, as he references the conversation you had with him a few months ago. 

“You surely did." You nodded, smiling. “Let’s eat first, then I’ll take a look at it” 

Leon seemed to enjoy the breakfast you made for him, and, for the first time since you two met, he genuinely seemed happy. However, you knew deep inside he was trying and fighting hard to hide his true feelings; losing his squad certainly shattered him inside, and caused more damage to him than you could ever imagine. 

Leon is a master when it comes to hiding his feelings. All over the years, Leon had built around himself an impenetrable shell, not allowing anyone to get closer, and all of that because he is scared of being hurt again. However, if the explosion never happened, if his men never died the way they did, Leon wouldn’t be pretending he’s fine when you know he’s not. The damage is so intense that you’re afraid he won’t recover. It’ll always be there with him, rotting inside him. 

You weren’t expecting so many wounds all at once, but when he took off his shirt and you saw his bruised skin, you took a deep breath. He had so many marks, so many stories. You wanted to ask, you wanted to know, but Leon wasn’t ready to share it yet. 

“I got this one back in Raccoon City” Leon quietly says, pointing to the scar on his left shoulder. “I got shot” 

“How did this happen?” you decided to ask him as you gently cleaned a few cuts he had.  

“I was helping a woman named Ada Wong to get a sample of G-Virus, and only a scientist named Annette Birkin had this sample. We were trying to find her and, when we did, she started to shoot Ada. I jumped in front of her, that’s why I got shot” Leon sighs, recalling the events that happened in the sewers. 

“This Ada seems very important to you” you smiled at him, cleaning the other cut he had on his neck.  

“She was, but it was a long time ago” Leon avoids your gaze. “Not anymore” 

“She was the one that hurt you?” you ask him very carefully. 

Leon didn’t answer, but his silence speaks for himself. You can see the extension of the damage and how Leon still struggles to deal with whatever happened between him and Ada. He stays silent, maybe trying to understand how his life turned into this mess. Then, he starts to count every time he was betrayed before until this very moment. His blue irises meet yours and all he feels is… peace. There’s no inner storms inside him, he feels completely at ease. 

“If I ask you a favor…” Leon suddenly says, changing the conversation. 

“What do you need?” you ask him without hesitation. 

“Could you come with me to the morgue? There’s something I need to do” Leon sighs, preparing himself for what’s about to happen. 

“Of course. I’ll tell my parents I’ll go to the store later” you nodded, quickly picking up your phone to text them. 

Leon partially felt guilty, but you were so willing to go with him that he changed his mind after you helped him dress himself — the way he dislocated his shoulder still hurts and he has difficulty with it. You drove to the morgue and judging by the interior of the building, you found out Leon was some sort of agent working for the government. You were able to read the name of the organization. Division of Security Operations. 

“So you’re a badass agent, huh?” you ask with enthusiasm as you walk next to him. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m a badass” Leon chuckles, still feeling tense. 

“Well, if you put your neck at stake to save your country, then you’re definitely a badass” you added, giving him a warm smile. 

When you both stepped inside the morgue, he reached out for your hand, seeking any support you could give him. The back wall was a box-shaped cold storage room, and a row of dissecting tables lined the spacious room. And on those dissecting tables were numerous body bags. It's a body bag with the DSO logo on it. Do they really need a logo even on something like this? Irony floated within Leon's chest. Are they planning to sell products with the logo on them, like DSO-branded body bags, DSO-logoed cigarette cases, DSO-logoed pass cases...?

He walked between the body bags to the sound of his boots. Unlike normal bodies, the victims of b.o.w - related incidents were usually sent for examination to specialized research institutions. Although this time the cause of death was due to a bomb, not a zombie attack, the instruction from above was to send the bodies to various laboratories, so they followed suit. This DSO branch’s mortuary was a relay point for passing the bodies from the scene to the laboratory, like a baton in a relay race. It wasn’t easy to simply bury them in a graveyard. The morgue itself wasn’t scary, but the corpses were scary because they stimulated the imagination. 

“Would they suddenly start moving? Would I end up like this too?” Leon thinks to himself a little bit loud, enough for you to hear him.

“You won’t” you whispered, squeezing his hand to let him know you were there.  

Watching the corpses closely would cause a moment where the elongated shadows would appear like monsters. However, that was before Raccoon City. He had seen too many moments where the dead came back to life. 

“I’m not scared of the mortuary anymore; recently, I’ve been thinking about it a lot” Leon frowned as he moved towards the back while swirling his thoughts. He thought he heard a sound from there minutes before. 

“What do you mean?” you ask him with curiosity as he approaches one of the bags. 

“I was constantly thinking about death and ending everything. I was depressed and thought I had no hope left” Leon confessed, his eyes locked on the body bags in front of him. “But now… I don’t think about that anymore”

He glances at you, finally. Slowly, his eyes meet your hand while you’re holding him and there’s a small smile on his lips, then his blue irises find yours again. 

“I used to be scared of the morgue… but coming here with you… is something else” Leon says next. “I couldn’t do this alone” 

“I’m glad I can help” you said to him with your usual kindness. 

But he stops and turns his attention back to the body bags and sighs. His entire demeanor changed and suddenly, he found himself fighting hard to keep doing this. He needed that. He owed his men at least this final goodbye. 

“What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child?” Leon thinks to himself as he approached one of the body bags. 

The zipper was slightly open, and the body bag seemed like it was about to move any moment. It’s common for something that seems like it’s about to move to actually move.

Leon carelessly closed the zipper. Was it because of the sharp sound that, suddenly, another body bag bounced behind him? Inside the body bag, the zombie was wiggling and struggling. It seemed unhappy, as if it had been woken up from a deep sleep by force. Leon pulled out his gun from his holster and squeezed the trigger. 

“What kind of adult did I want to become? I definitely didn’t want a life like this” 

V. ACCEPTANCE 

After everything that happened with his squad, Leon knew he needed time off of his office. Decided to get his mind off everything and take a break, Leon chose the Rocky Mountains in Colorado as his destination. Instead of going there alone, he thought it would be good to spend more time with you, mostly because he felt safe around you and due to the nature of his job and everything he saw, he needed to feel that safety only you provided him.  

You had to explain to your parents why you would be going on a vacation, but they understood with no problems; they didn’t know about Leon because you were fearing some trouble because of the age gap, so you felt they weren’t exactly ready to meet him. How could you explain to them you were apparently dating a man eleven years older than you? It would be one hell of a surprise. 

It was 9 a.m. in the mountainous area near Rocky Mountain National Park, located in northern Colorado. The national park was about a two-hour drive from the state capital, Denver. Along the way, there were several viewpoints where numerous travelers parked their cars to enjoy the scenic beauty. Even in the mountainous region of the Rockies, the mountains around this area were not exceptionally high. They were just before the tree line, covered with spruce and fir trees on the subalpine slopes. The forest appeared like a beautifully groomed brush, while wildflowers bloomed modestly, sheltered by large rocks.

“This place is incredible” you sound mesmerized by the incredible view from the hotel. 

“You haven’t been in places like this before?” Leon asks you with curiosity. 

“I barely leave my house” you chuckle, leaving your bag on the bed. “I just work at my parent’s store and go to college” 

“It feels like I’m dating a baby” Leon chuckles, also leaving his bag next to yours. 

“We’re dating, huh?” you teased, taking off your sneakers. 

“Yeah, we are” Leon nods his head, smiling. “I know I haven’t officially asked you, but I’m too old for that” 

“It’s fine, old man. I’m just messing with you” you said, playing with his fingers. 

“Old man? Now I’m offended” Leon teases back, smiling. 

“You said it first” you replied to him, your hands reaching his brown hair. “By the way… I have something for you” 

Leon glanced at you, frowning. The mischievous smile on your lips immediately told him you were planning something. He sat up on the bed and kept his eyes fixed on you, waiting patiently for whatever you were about to do. 

“I got you a birthday present” you said with enthusiasm, catching him by surprise. “I know I’m a few days late, but I wanted to give you something for your 37th birthday” 

“You didn’t have to” Leon whispered in shock as you gave him the small box. 

He unwrapped the present you gave him and found a beautiful dagger, silver and shining, also pretty sharp. Leon knew immediately that you probably paid a lot on that and he felt bad. He took a deep breath and glanced at you. 

“This was very expensive. You shouldn’t waste your money with me like that” Leon says to you. 

“It’s a gift. You can’t give it back” you said to him, a hint of playfulness in your voice as you insisted for him to keep it. 

“That’s not fair” Leon complains, laughing softly. 

“It’s pretty fair to me, though” you said to him, smirking. “It’s just a dagger, not a diamond or something related. I know your job is kind of dangerous and you might need it” 

“Okay, you win. I’ll take it” Leon sighs in defeat. “About my job… I know I haven’t been extremely open about it, but…” 

“It’s okay, I don’t want you to feel forced to share this with me if you don’t feel ready” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. 

“I wish I could be more open to you” Leon glanced at his hands, feeling bad because of that. 

“Start simple and small. You don’t have to tell me absolutely everything at once” you placed your hand on his shoulder, petting him. 

“Simple and small? How could I do that?” Leon frowned at the idea. He always thought it was impossible to open up about his trauma. 

You pondered for a few moments, thinking about a way to help him talk about his issues in a positive way. 

“Start with something like… why don't you like dogs?” you suggested. A while ago you noticed Leon had a certain aversion to dogs. 

“I… um… I was attacked by dogs in Raccoon City. They weren’t common dogs, they were infected, something like that” Leon found himself surprised by the way he spoke about this issue so easily. “Then, at Spain, I had a few encounters with wolves also infected with a parasite, monstrous things” 

“See? That one was pretty easy” you said, encouraging him to keep talking. “Wanna try to say something else?” 

Leon thought about your question for minutes; inside his head, everything that has happened to him was like an endless movie. The trauma, the pain and the events that seem to be haunting him to this day. It was hard to pick one, but then, he reminds himself of your words of being simple and small. He takes a deep breath and quietly, he convinces himself that he can do this. 

“Back at Raccoon City, it was my first day at the force and I was 21 at the time” Leon starts, his eyes focused on something else. “I was late, but I think that’s why I’m still alive” 

While he was telling you the horrors he saw, you gently placed your hand on his, to let him know you’re there for him. It was a simple and kind gesture, but for him, it meant the world. Leon was only familiar with danger and brutality, so having you by his side providing comfort was enough to penetrate the depth of his former persona. It was enough to rescue the rookie cop buried inside those walls. 

“After that night… everything changed. I’m here because of what I did to survive and I’m not exactly proud of it. I can’t stop blaming myself for my past actions, but…” Leon suddenly stops, taking another deep breath. 

“You can’t control everything around you, Leon. And not everything that happens to us is our fault. You couldn’t know you were going to be stalked and nearly killed on your first day… you didn't know that there was a virus outbreak in Raccoon City that night…” you said to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. “You need to understand that this isn’t your baggage to carry. What happened that day wasn’t your fault” 

Leon had your words playing on repeat inside his head. Even though he was early in the morning drinking his sorrows away, he was still thinking about what you said. He also felt partially guilty for leaving you asleep in the bed while he was drinking, but the other part of him told you knew him pretty well and you wouldn’t be judging him for this. His head was a roller coaster and at this very moment, he wasn’t at the top. 

Leon sat on the first floor of a lodge-style hotel in the rural town. The hotel was two stories tall, made of reinforced concrete, but designed to resemble traditional log construction. There was only one waiter and one chef, making it far from a trendy establishment — a rather run-down place. He was having breakfast in the first-floor restaurant. Though the restaurant wasn't popular, the food was decent. Approaching footsteps came from behind him — two sets of them.

"--To come fully armed to such a peaceful town," Leon said without turning around.

"Leon S. Kennedy, the ace of the DSO, a special agent organization directly under the President of the United States," a voice replied.

Finally, he turned around to see Chris Redfield and Rebecca Chambers standing there.

"Chris and... oh, the renowned expert in biohazard research, Professor Rebecca Chambers. What do you want?" he asked.

"It's work. Cooperate," Chris said in an uncompromising tone.

Chris and Rebecca sat across from him. And it was noticeable that he wore an annoyed expression. 

"I'm on vacation." 

"...In the past, while protecting the President's daughter, Ashley Graham, you fought and annihilated the cult group Los Illuminados. They were using special bio-organic weapons called Plagas," Chris said.

"I've forgotten about that old stuff," Leon replied simply.

"Do you plan on loafing around in this town for another week?" Chris asked.

"I don't know what will happen in the future," Leon retorted.

"Beer, please," Rebecca chuckled at the reference to an old movie, while Chris wore an unamused expression.

Leon called over a passing waitress with a casual wave to place his order, but Chris interrupted him.

"Cancel the beer."

"No, it's not canceled."

“Come on… what the fuck?!”

"I don't need any more alcohol."

"Cut it out. What's going on?"

"That's my line."

The waitress looked between the two of them suspiciously and before walking away. Eventually, Leon pulled out a flask from his back pocket and took a swig as a substitute for the additional order that couldn't be fulfilled.

"You–!" Chris leaned forward.

"Enough, both of you," Rebecca interjected. "--Leon. We apologize for disturbing your vacation. However, we need the information you possess," Rebecca said.

Finally, Leon showed a willingness to listen.

"...What's the situation?" he asked.

Chris and Rebecca had to explain to him what happened earlier at the university. The case was simple. Glenn Arias was a new threat and they needed to stop him at all costs. However, they didn’t know how Leon was suffering inside; they couldn’t know about the recent events. Leon wearily intertwines his gestures and continues, 

"Just before I took my vacation... I was involved in a DSO mission in Bethesda to apprehend a treacherous senator who was selling internal information to a bioterrorist organization." 

The disgusted irritation was evident in his movements, his expression, and his voice. 

"You know..." Leon begins. "Here's the thing: the informant we used betrayed us. We fell into a trap instead. A massive explosion killed many of my colleagues... and then there was the incident with the resurrection of the corpses you guys were involved in... It's all a mess," 

Leon explains, letting out a heavy sigh. It's a sigh that escapes unintentionally, like a burden he carries.

"I had planned to become a police officer in Raccoon City. It was my dream job. But on my first day, there was a massive zombie outbreak, and from there... it never stopped," Leon pauses and shakes his head. "I've been fighting this whole time. There's no end in sight, and it only keeps getting worse. Have I been living just to fight zombies and the people who create them?"

"What are you trying to say? That you don't want to cooperate with us?" Chris asks.

"It's not that..." Leon's tone is uncertain, "Well, maybe it is."

With a hesitant tone, Leon continues

“What exactly is our goal? How far do we have to run? Do we have to keep running endlessly? The villains keep coming, one after another, while the good people keep dying. Maybe it's better to lose our minds."

Then, Chris found himself forced to explain to Leon what they were facing. He showed pictures of Cathy White, the agent that was turned into a bio-weapon. And worse, her son she killed. He showed the photos taken during the autopsy and how Glenn turned people into something else purely because of power. 

"Killing him is the goal," Chris declares.

"That's only your goal, not mine," Leon retorts, his voice filled with resentment.

Tension fills the air between them once again.

"Hey," Rebecca interrupts, breaking the silence just as she did before. "So, Leon, you're exhausted," Rebecca points at Leon and then gestures to Chris. "And Chris, you're frustrated. There's one thing both tired people and irritable people have in common."

"What do we have in common?" Chris asks in response.

They both look at each other with a wide-eyed grin.

"You only think about yourselves," Rebecca replies. 

"I–" Chris tries to interject, but Rebecca continues. 

"Chris, all you talk about is wanting to kill Glenn Arias. After helping me, you didn't say a single word mourning the sacrifices of our colleagues. Leon, you're acting like a college student in their moratorium period. People get tired of running. But if we stop running, more people will lose their lives."

Rebecca takes out a trigger-activated needleless syringe from her small bag. In front of the bewildered duo, she abruptly presses the syringe against her left forearm and pulls the trigger, causing her blood to collect in the test tube attached to the syringe.

"I'll tell you something important. We're already infected," she says.

"What?" Leon's expression tightens in response.

Rebecca continues speaking in a tone reminiscent of a teacher addressing a poor student. 

"The truth is, it's difficult to estimate just how many people have been infected by Arias' new virus. The problem is, we don't know the identity of the trigger that activates it."

As she speaks, Rebecca removes the test tube from the syringe and seals it with a cap.

"The virus is activated by something only Arias knows. When that happens, the dead rise, and living humans become bio-weapons."

Rebecca glances lightly at Leon. 

"If things continue like this, this city will eventually become a living hell. There won't be any safe places."

Leon remains silent, averting his gaze.

"Just so you know, a prototype of the antivirus has been developed," Rebecca says. "It actually worked on me. However, the effectiveness of the antivirus is unstable without knowing the conditions for the activation of Arias' virus. When to administer it and how long it remains effective..."

Rebecca then places the sealed test tube into a small protective case and puts it on the table. 

"My blood should provide valuable data. If I die, make sure it reaches a reputable research institution that you can trust."

"You're not in danger. We'll protect you," Chris says firmly.

"What?" Leon asks, confused.

"It seems like you're misunderstanding, BSAA soldier," Rebecca lightly dismisses Chris's assumption.

There’s a slight smirk on Leon’s lips as he hears that. 

"The forefront of pandemic response is not the BSAA, but the research field. How many doctors and colleagues do you think I've seen die in conflict-ridden African countries or small Middle Eastern nations used as testing grounds for bio-weapons?" Rebecca questions.

Chris tries to say something in response, but his voice gets stuck in his throat, and only faint breaths escape.

"After I left the team, you two might have fought against plenty of mad scientists. But science can only be countered with science. Unless benevolent technology advances, we will never have a chance of winning. We fight not only for ourselves but for others. Have you both understood at least a little of what I'm saying?" Rebecca asks.

She stands up and adds, "Cool your heads," before leaving her seat.

"She's a great woman," Leon comments.

"We can't handle it on our own," Chris remarks, watching Rebecca leave, and he and Leon exchanged a wry smile. 

And then, here it comes. The urge to talk about what happened one year ago. 

"Leon, China was tough," Chris says, referring to that incident.

"Yeah, it was like a zombie version of Black Hawk Down." he nods in response. 

"At that time, I wanted to quit the BSAA so badly," Chris admits, surprising Leon, "After getting involved with Umbrella, I witnessed too many deaths. We..." 

Chris trails off. His expression was heavy, as if lead had settled in the depths of his heart. Then Chris realized: Why does it make me so angry to see him like this? He was too much like his old self.

"It makes you want to quit... makes me want to quit," Chris says, emphasizing his point. Leon falls into silence. And Chris delivers the final blow. "But, the moment we quit, all of our subordinates and friends will have died in vain. We are the survivors of Raccoon City. We carry that burden."

Chris falls silent, and the air becomes still. The waitress looks annoyed by the silence. For a few moments, there’s nothing but the said silence. 

"Leon, I always thought you were a cheerful guy no matter what," Chris breaks the silence.

"No one is like that," Leon replies, “Well… I’m not. I've always been a stress-tolerant guy. I've been able to do what I've done because of it. But now look back on it. In Tall Oaks, I killed the president.”

"Technically, you had to save the President infected with the virus," Chris quickly adds, trying to provide some context.

“But,” Leon shakes his head, "But the fact remains that I pulled the trigger, I shot him, and I was even suspected of assassinating the President afterward. Although I managed to clear my name, the mastermind behind that incident turned out to be the President's aide. The DSO was once called the 'Sword of the President,' but now it sounds ironically fitting."

Chris remains silent, attentively listening to Leon's words.

"Chris," Leon continues. "I've returned to active duty, but every time I face the new President, I feel anxious. I can sense his unease as well. The President's aide had sold his soul to B.O.W. terrorism. Who's next? The Secretary of Defense? The Vice President? What's become of the foundation that supports the soldiers in the field? They keep using us, while the higher-ups continue to flounder, grow bloated... They only think about shifting blame onto others."

He pauses for a moment. There’s so much pain. 

Leon furrows his brow and lowers his voice. "Perhaps the reason entities like Umbrella persist is that our society harbors a fundamental evil... I can't help but feel that way now."

Even agreeing with this stupid mission, Leon can’t go without saying goodbye. He feels guilty, but the moment he sees you, everything feels completely right. He sat at the bed, watching you perfectly asleep, imagining what kind of dreams you were having. Leon sighs and shakes his head. 

“Hey, sweetheart” Leon says when he sees you waking up. 

“Hi” you whisper, rubbing your eyes. 

“Listen… something happened and my colleagues need me. Will you be okay here?” he asks you, his thumb trailing your cheek. 

“Will you come back?” you ask him, sounding a little groggy. 

“And leave my baby girl here all alone? Of course I’ll come back” he smiles sweetly at you. 

“Ok… I’ll be here” you nodded your head, closing your eyes to go back to sleep. 

Something about you made him see, for the first time, the bright side of things. Maybe it was the fact that you were younger than him, and also the fact that you were full of energy - he was just an old and bitter man. But, hey, he’s learning how to cope with every shit that has happened to him. 

Before you, Leon was ready to die. 

He was ready to embrace death, he already had made peace with his inner demons. But everything changed when you came into his life. Suddenly, he thought he could live and find happiness and death wasn’t in his thoughts anymore. It was like you were able to bring him back from his darkness. He wasn’t rotting inside. You were able to rescue him from himself and return the light he needed. 

But if he thought he wasn’t close to death, he was wrong. Leon never thought he would face something like Glenn Arias and come close to death, but he had his job to do. Chris needed his help and Leon finally found closure to something that was weighing on his head; the death of his squad wasn’t his fault and he found the real culprit. He found the peace he was desperately looking for. And he was able to see another sunrise and come back to you. 

It was a repetitive cycle. Leon recently started to wonder if anything he did was futile. That's why he took a vacation and drowned his sorrows in alcohol. It was a kind of protest, perhaps. A protest against the grand concepts of this world and destiny. A statement of "I’m not going on like this forever, I’m not going to do it," or something of that sort. But fate was cruel. In the end, human life rarely goes well by one's own choices. Perhaps humans are merely chosen by fate without their consent. Yet, Leon now felt that it was okay like that. Being chosen doesn't make him a hero by default. He becomes a hero reluctantly because he was chosen. And that's fine. 

The merged form approached Leon with an eerie growl, swinging its massive fist. Leon leaped back to dodge it, and the merged form's punch shattered one of the spires on the rooftop into tiny fragments. It had the destructive power of a construction hammer, with each strike resembling the impact of a tank cannon round. Leon intentionally slid and jumped into the merged form's feet, thinking that at such a large size, close range might become a blind spot. He positioned himself beneath the massive body, lying on his back and firing his handgun. The shots were practically point-blank, but they were still deflected by the hardened muscles and exoskeleton. 

"Doesn't matter," Leon muttered involuntarily. "I'll do whatever it takes, even if it's futile. Today's a good day to die anyway."

The merged form kicked out.

The enemy's movements were deceptively swift, and Leon was sent flying as if hit by a car. His body tumbled through the air until it finally collided with a gargoyle statue, coming to a stop. The impact was so intense that his breath nearly ceased. However, the merged form continued its pursuit. It threw a straight punch, a blow that would surely result in instant death if landed, but Leon managed to evade it with a jump. Not only did he dodge it, but in mid-air, Leon twisted his body and unleashed a spinning kick. His boot-clad foot connected with the grotesque face of the merged form.

Whether it would have any effect or not didn't matter. This strike was my will. Of course, a kick from a mere human wouldn't have any effect. The merged form retaliated with its opposite hand, grabbing hold of Leon.

"Gah!" A groan escaped Leon's throat involuntarily. The massive fist tightened around him like a vice, and within a few seconds, he felt himself being crushed like a tomato.

"Leon!" Chris emerged from the penthouse.

In his fading consciousness, Leon thought about you. The way you smiled whenever you were with him and the sweet perfume you love to use. The way your hands embrace him at night, helping him sleep safely, without any nightmares to harm him. And then, he doesn’t want to die anymore. Please, God, don’t let me die this way. 

Chris picked up the fully automatic handgun that Arias had dropped along the way and unleashed a barrage of bullets at the merged form. For a brief moment, it seemed like the merged form's focus shifted, and its grip loosened slightly, but that was all.

Was my life meant to end here, crushed by this grotesque monster? Leon wondered, his pessimism threatens to shatter him. Leon wasn't the type to easily get this depressed or overthink things too much. Still, he felt more than a little exhausted.

What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child? I never imagined I would be burdened with the stigma of assassinating a president. At least, I didn't want a life like this ― It doesn't matter what I want. There's no such thing as a person who can live the life they desire. Arias must have felt the same way. In the end…

VI. ABSOLUTION

When he came back, you noticed something inside him had changed. 

After the fight with Arias, Leon noticed that life was much more than death, darkness and depression. At least, he started to think like that when he almost got killed. And his only thought was coming back to you. No, he couldn’t die like that and leave you alone. His arm was injured, but he was alive. And he was back. 

“What happened to your arm?” you asked him when you saw him entering the room. 

“Remember that day in the morgue when you told me I was a badass government agent?” Leon asks you back, sitting on the bed next to you. 

“Yep, I do” you nodded, starting to massage his tense muscles. 

“Well… I’m not this kind of agent. I work under the president’s orders. I fight bioweapons for a living… since that hell in Raccoon City” Leon sighs, finally opening about his job. 

“Bioweapons? Like zombies and shit?” you ask him with curiosity. 

“Worse than zombies, but yes” Leon nodded with a slight smirk. “It’s dangerous, and this time I nearly got killed… thing is, my job requires a lot of my time, it forces me to not be around for God knows how long. It scares me because I don’t know if you can live this chaotic life with me…” 

“Wait, wait, wait… slow down” you held his hand and squeezed it softly. “Everyone deserves a second chance in life, Leon. You were alone for too much time and I don’t mind if you need to go somewhere else to fight bioweapons. If this means I get to see these pretty eyes of yours and this sweet smile every time you come home… I’m willing to live this chaotic life with you” 

Leon couldn’t believe your words. After being deprived of something so human and getting used to it, Leon felt he was about to explode. It was too much for him to handle. At this point, he knew perfectly he was experiencing anxiety. But it was a good one. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt. If we do this, I’m gonna get you wrapped up in something bad someday… and I’ll never forgive myself if this happens” Leon tells you, sounding extremely worried.

“I know you won’t let anything bad happen to me. And besides, I can take care of myself. I made self defense classes” you laugh sweetly, a symphony to his ears. 

“Are you sure?” Leon asks, and those big puppy eyes of his wanting nothing but assurance.

“Honey, if this wasn’t true, I wouldn’t be here” you chuckled, kissing his forehead. 

After what happened, you decided to introduce Leon to your family as your boyfriend. But before that, you convinced him he needed to improve a little. Getting rid of the alcohol was the first step. He started to see a therapist and work harder on his issues, which influenced a lot of your relationship. He was more happy and willing to do things he and you both liked. One year after that incident with his squad being killed and his mission with his friends, you noticed he was ready to meet your parents. 

“I’m nervous” Leon tells you when you both were entering your home. 

“Why? It’s not like we’ve been dating secretly for almost three years. Besides, they’ll think you’re cute, don’t worry” you giggled at him. 

“I’m not so sure about that” he muttered, following you inside your parents place.

You could clearly tell how anxious he was. However, he always felt at ease on your side, and it was like you had the power to make him relax, like nothing could harm him and the world was finally at peace. When you stepped inside the house with Leon right behind you for a Christmas dinner, your parents were already expecting both of you. 

“Mom, dad… this is Leon. The guy I was talking about” you introduced him to your parents with certain expectations. 

“You clearly got my taste for man” Leon heard your mom whispering to you, which made his cheeks turn red. 

“So… um… how long are you two hanging out?” your dad asked and you glanced quickly at Leon. 

“Three years, I guess. We met at the store” you tell your parents. “I didn’t tell you before because Leon has a busy schedule. He’s not always in town, so…” 

“Well, moonpie, if you’re happy, we’re happy too” your mom says with a gracious smile on her lips. 

Leon wasn’t expecting to be so welcomed into your family, but the fact that your parents treated him so kindly melted his heart. He got himself thinking about the dinner for at least one week, mostly because part of him was still thinking it was weird to receive so much kindness and affection, especially coming from a real family. He wasn’t expecting to be playing cards with your dad while you and your mom were in the kitching talking about girl’s stuff, but it was enough to make him see he made the right choice. That it was okay for him to finally experience love. 

“I like your light brown hair now that you finally stopped dying it” you said, sitting between his legs in the living room. 

“My emo era is over” he chuckles sweetly, like a melody. 

“May it rest in peace” you made the signal of the cross. “

“Changing the subject, tomorrow I gotta go to San Francisco. Work stuff” he says to you, softly kissing your neck. 

“Yeah? Am I getting some gift?” you whisper, feeling the shivers down your spine with his lips against your skin. 

“Do I ever go on a mission and come back empty handed?” Leon asks you, his soft lips pressing more against your neck and you can feel him softly biting you. 

The thing is, Leon is like a porcelain doll. He needs to be treated with softness and kindness, because deep down, he is vulnerable. The way his lips met your skin was a clear sign that he was ready for you. He was finally ready to be yours. However, loving Leon also needed patience, and after three years, you could tell he wanted that too. 

“Do you want to do this before you leave, handsome?” you ask him teasingly, holding his hands as he keeps kissing your neck. 

“Yes, I do,” he nods, almost moaning in your ear. 

He gently took you to his bedroom, the place was almost a sanctuary for him. He laid you down on his bed and removed his shirt, and this time, he didn’t seem ashamed of himself. You stood up from his bed and sat him on the edge, your hands trailing down his skin like he was a roller coaster. He closed his eyes, his breath soft and calm, although he anticipated what was about to happen. Leon craved for you. 

“I’ll take care of you” you whispered, leaving soft kisses across his neck and chest. 

You sat gently between his legs, your sweet and soft fingers removing his pants and reaching his already hardened cock. He sat there, observing you with those big and blue puppy eyes, like he was savoring your image. When you took all his length inside your mouth and gently started to suck him, Leon felt he was in heaven. It felt so good, so powerful. 

Tears started to fall from his eyes and he cried. Not because you were hurting him, dear lord, of course not! It was because he finally felt that he deserved to be loved. Your tongue did an amazing job on his cock and when he came, he felt his body at ease. Leon moaned with the sudden sensation, it was stronger than he last remembered. But it was because of you. 

“I love you” he says when you touch his face, wiping his tears. 

Loving Leon needed patience, you knew that already. 

However, living with him brought new challenges that you weren’t expecting at all. He would be gone for weeks, then he comes back out of nowhere. He always forgets to send you a message to let you know he’s coming back, but that’s okay, because his lack of patience to deal with technology amuses you. He always sends an emoji out of context, which makes you laugh and you find it very cute when he gets disappointed for misunderstanding those little and yellow faces. He’s getting there, don’t worry about that. 

When he’s at home, things turn out differently. He always helps you with the chores, likes to tease you whenever you’re cooking his favorite meal and at the end of the day, you two are together on the couch watching some silly movie while he complains about it and softly scratches your leg. Sharing a domestic life was something he never thought he would have, not after everything he went through alone. 

Now that he's back from whatever he did in San Francisco, you have another job to do. Tend to his injuries. It’s a small sacrifice to pay whenever he comes back hurt; this time he has purple marks all over his body and face. You don’t ask what on earth happened, because you know he can’t really give details, but at least he’s safe and sound with you again. 

“Stop moving, old man!” you tell him, trying to clean a small cut he had on his neck. 

“That hurts,” Leon replied back, flinching slightly. 

“I know, but someone has to clean it” you rolled your eyes, applying a Barbie band-aid on his neck. 

“Please, don’t tell me I got the Barbie thing on my neck” Leon closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“Next time I’ll get you a cat one” you wink playfully at him. 

After so many death experiences and the inner wish of being dead, he’s glad that he found the absolution that he always wanted. He looks at you with amusement, part of him finds it hard to believe that he’s so lucky to have you, but the other part is glad that you are real and you love him for who he really is. You took every damaged part of him and loved with such intensity that it was enough to bring him back from that dark place he was at. He forgave himself, allowed his soul to heal and to be loved. Life had gifted him with the second chance to live, made him see the beautiful things again. You took him in when he was on the lower part of his life, and your love brought him back. He knows he’s getting older, but he doesn’t mind spending his days with you, because you are the only thing in his life that makes sense.

And he’s fine with that. 

[tocomplainfriend]

Oh no

TW - racism and Slavery, power dynamics

really meh. IDK why they went mecha with the cherubs. The energy of the fight and how much it lasted was really lacking. I'm annoyed still by the "GUYS STOLAS IS SO SAAAAAD" bullshit. Why is the thumbnail so bad? I thought it was fake.

There is not an understanding of classism or power dynamics or anything.

Blitz was right, Stolas is a privileged asshole that constantly reduced their relationship into something sexual and belittled blitz, in remarks of him as a lower / IMP. Stolas did a scenario where Blitz job depended on them having sex. The series is creating a scenario where Blitz needs to love Stolas back because Stolas is so UWU sad baby that 'loves' him.

The main reason i hated the re-write of Stolas and blitz meeting-is because is exactly this: (something I've been aware of for a while.)

This exact situation of white slave owners making the kids of their slaves play with their white kids (I originally got introduced to this idea for a long form criticism of the Princess and the frog Story from Disney). IDK why would you make a scenario where there is inequality to the imps and how they suffer racism- if you just want Stolas to be in the right and Blitz in the wrong

I do not care if Stolas is sad and his life (even tho better because he is rich and has a literal book that gives him powers, vs being an IMP that could die, suffer from property and any possible scenario they are exposed to- or be a slave servant to the richer people because they were born imps.) he doesn't get to freed from all his wrong doings. No matter how depressed he is, his power is still higher and over Blitz. And creating a terrible scenario for blitz or any Imp for that matter.

They are really going for the plot line of But Stolas is a good rich privileged person.

Also, a scenario where the discriminated x privileged... There is the direct connection to the "what about everyone else".

If a non discriminated against person with big power is not bigoted to the person, the one they fell in love with. Does only that one discriminated person get saved from their social situation? Does everybody else still suffers because they don't happen to be the one. But what if the privileged person still discriminates against those people, but not their "special one".

Also... if you get a scenario as the discriminated one where you get to be saved from your situation, that's fucked. This person loves you if you say yes to them then you don't have to deal with being poor and as oppressed by the system but only you! Your entire group of people lives in the same conditions as you... If you say no, then you'll go back to being oppressed. This person on power hold power over you still. How much can you wight in with your own problems and boundaries, if the other one can throw you away into your old way of living. Can you leave the relationship? If you leave, you can get all the things you did with the privileged person cause maybe they don't hate you for being from a certain minority group, but the system over all hasn't changed. Can your group of people only get better life conditions by loving the pre-existing group in power? Those that person even like you, or do they like the power they hold onto you? Or maybe they like your race for your race more than you as a person.

Just a thing in the writing of this kind of story.

Also, character can have flaws, but they need to be recognized as flaws in writing.

Stolas are constantly victimizing himself (just like any sad privileged asshole would). He can't take the fact that if blitz is angry at him is for a reason, because he doesn't see his treatment of his as a bad thing. Cause in Stoals pov he enjoyed having power over blitz and calling him an IMP and forcing his romanticized view of the situation on to him- But Blitz was pulling a fast one to get money, This rich guy who he got gifted to as a slave playmate now is holding his job over his head in exchanged for sex, the same guy constantly does sexual advances towards him even when he explicitly says he doesn't want that (remember all of Loo loo land episode?), he gets call plenty of imp based "petnames" (“My impish little play-thing”) from a guy that can literary buy imps as slaves any day, suddenly he has to reciprocate his romantic feelings because he is sad, and apparently he wanted something more even thought he made it entirely empty and sexual all this time.

Stolas fake apologized, got fairly screamed at and victimized himself.

And apparently calling him out is bad for Blitz to do? Victim blaming.

I think by the last episode, they are going to kick Stolas out of the castle, technically putting him in a similar social position to imps with nowhere to go. Even if it doesn't magically work that way. -and Stolas is going to be "more sad and more in the right, so Blitz has no ground to complain now, right!?" ...

The way all of this episode and series is written tries so hard to delete any negative feeling against systemic problems, classism related issues, etc. if it's against a character the series wants you to like. If it's Stolas then he did nothing wrong, the power dynamic doesn't exist... if it is Mammon then he is a terrible person holding his power over others' capitalism sucks... oh but not Stolas tho! If it is Ozzi there is no power dynamic over a disabled imp, constant searching for appreciation from someone he fells is above him (like he tried to get with Mammon, because Ozzie is a good highly privileged person. No bad things to look out for! Fuck capitalism, but I'm one of the good rich people, no criticism is possible!

All that bad stuff could that people in my position of power is awful! But I would, could never do that! Because I'm a good one! Hmm

If you don't see the problem here, you may be a problem or may be justifying something terrible.

Also, funny enough about the short of Millie and Sally... I can't believe you only get content of a female character AND MILLIE IN SPECIFIC in extra side content that Viv didn't even care enough to write herself... and also the short gave me nothing new about her, I got more for Sally (and finally something normal! More than a line and she gets to have a character).

I hope there is a better episode for her.

[beanghostprincess]

Zoro trying to wingman sanuso into dating because their longing for each other is disruptive to his daily routine, only he is completely shit at it because his idea of romance is the unhinged bullshit he has with Luffy. Nami figures out what Zoro is trying to do after 2 months and manages to get Sanji and Usopp together under a week and then Zoro continues suffering because them dating is just as bad as Sanji sighing wistfully after Usopp every hour of the day and Usopp getting distracted by Sanji's legs during bathtime and slipping and almost cracking his head open. Now they just run around calling each other petnames and Sanji handfeeding Usopp food and sitting in his lap and it's making him cringe

This is perfect. Absolutely amazing. Anon, I'd love to kiss your brain.

Zoro is so done with them. He's always been really close to Usopp, so now that he has a crush on Sanji, he's the one dealing with it. It's fucking awful. Because Usopp keeps saying (lying) that he doesn't like Sanji. Then, Zoro goes to Sanji and asks if he likes Usopp and he lies too, because why the hell would he confess his feelings to fucking mosshead of all people? And Zoro has to deal with Usopp being head over heels for the cook every damn day (like, literally, looking for excuses to talk to Sanji. Spending the time in the kitchen with him. Always talking about him when Zoro is around. Flirting with him in the most obvious of ways. Fucking up in battle because he's focused on Sanji. Etc). But the pining isn't the only issue, because there's more. Sanji keeps flirting with women and Usopp is always devastated when that happens or unreasonably angry at everything, frustrated. And Zoro is the one who has to deal with it because for some fucking reason the sniper decided one day that they were best friends and Zoro accepted because he's stupid (and he's regretting all the decisions he made two years ago). Sanji is also fucking annoying because he keeps swooning over Usopp like a dog in heat and he's oh, so in love that it physically hurts to watch. Like, quite literally hurts because he keeps holding himself back from treating Usopp the way he treats his crushes and the frustration always goes to Zoro and they always end up fighting again and again and again. And don't get him wrong, Zoro likes to fight with Sanji. That's their whole thing. But he needs his own personal time too.

So Zoro's like "Fuck it. If these two are not gonna get together on their own, I'll do it myself". But, as you said, his whole concept of romance is really fucked up because his love for Luffy is completely different and the way he shows affection is way more complicated than what Sanuso does. Zoro has the brilliant idea to put both of them in danger so the other will save him, for some reason. It never ends up well and he's the one saving them in the end or he ends up fighting Sanji once again. It's getting even more annoying now. So you can erase "saving each other" from the list, because Zoro does not know how to make plans and it always ends up horribly wrong or with them saving themselves. Then he tries "possessiveness", but ends up erasing that too because unlike him (who's always all over Luffy) both Sanji and Usopp end up having depressive episodes every damn time Zoro says the other likes somebody else or puts that idea in their heads. Fucking idiots with low self-esteem. And so Zoro's like "maybe I can just go and put them in a dark room together" but Sanji apparently is fucking frightened of the dark and Usopp doesn't know how to get out so it's pretty much both of them having panic attacks until Zoro helps them out. And, idk, maybe he even tries to put messages in Usopp's food so he thinks Sanji's the one who wrote them! But he always ends up mistaking the dishes and he doesn't even know how to write stuff with food so it either ends up looking horrible or in the hands of somebody who isn't Usopp. Etc, etc, etc. He's so fucking done-

Nami notices because, unlike him, she isn't stupid. And she gets them together extremely quickly. And it's as easy as:

Nami: Hi, Sanji-san, are you busy tonight? Sanji: Of course not, my dearest! For you, I'm always free! Nami: Awesome! And you, Usopp? Usopp: Huh? Yeah. Well. I think so? Why? Nami: Great! Well, I am busy. And I had this reservation at this really expensive restaurant on this island? It would be such a waste of food, right Sanji-san? Sanji: Of course, my angel! I would never! Nami: Why don't you two go together? Usopp: Wait- What? Nami- Nami, hey- We talked about this don't- Sanji: You don't wanna go with me? :( <- Saddest wet cat face ever Usopp: Of course I do! Who said I didn't?! Nami: Perfect! It's a date, then! Usopp: A WHAT? Sanji: Nami-

And she just- She just fucking leaves without a word.

It turns out surprisingly well... For Sanji and Usopp, of course. Things just get worse for Zoro.

Because it's not only the fact that Nami won't stop reminding him that she was the one who got them together and he wasn't even able to do it. But on top of it all, Sanji and Usopp become the clingiest, sappiest, most annoying couple in the whole world.

He now has to deal with Sanji feeding Usopp and sitting really close at lunchtime. Usopp being extra dramatic and loud when telling stories to impress Sanji and dancing around with him. Sanji cooking all of Usopp's favorite meals at least once a week. Them always making out during bathtime and being extremely touchy. Usopp leaving notes around for Sanji that Zoro always finds first. Sanji fucking yelling all the time to call for Usopp. Them kissing mid-battle or being extremely distracted by each other. Even when they're sitting together as a group, they're sitting on top of each other.

It's disgusting. Not because Zoro hates love or he's cynical or whatever, because he's obsessed with romance. He just hates the fact that they're so loud about it because his perception of love is just so personal and intimate when it comes to Luffy and- And he likes Usopp. He really loves him a lot (platonically). And Zoro doesn't want him to get hurt. The thought is stupid because, despite their rivalry, he trusts Sanji with his life. But it's just weird.

Then I think one day Usopp is having a rough moment. Or perhaps he's the only one who hasn't woken up yet. The point is that he's on one of the bunk beds sleeping and Zoro thinks it's time to check on him. But then he goes into the room, silently enough for neither of them to notice, and stays for a moment on the door staring at the whole situation. Sanji's kneeling on the side of the bed, caressing Usopp's hair and kissing his face and just whispering things Zoro can't hear but knows he isn't meant to hear anyway. And so he walks away and thinks, well, maybe he's been wrong all along and they do have that sort of intimacy. Just in a different way.

And then Luffy comes to him fucking yelling his name and embracing him completely in the middle of the deck (where everybody is) kissing him all over his face and screaming about how excited he is to spend their day together on the next island.

Zoro just has to laugh. Maybe he doesn't have any right to complain about PDA after all.

[froggibus]

Stay A While - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff w a shot of angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: you’ve always been one to suffer in silence, shutting yourself in your apartment for the duration of your episodes. but Jason Todd doesn’t want to sit idly by and watch you suffer alone, even if it annoys you

CW: depressed! reader, mentions of depressive episodes, negative thoughts/self talk, Jason is overbearing, mentions of insomnia, reader struggles to eat, some violence (out on patrol), the rest of the family kinda sucks in this lmao

this is for the people who followed me expecting Batfam/DC content and didn’t unfollow when I didn’t post any for months 😭 I love y’all. also idk the idea of soft! Jason makes me so emotional. also I WOULD LOVE SOME DC OR BATFAM REQUESTS!!! if there’s anything you want me to write I will gladly do it 🫶🏼 (also let’s ignore the fact that this is like my 3rd angsty post in the past few days oops)

————

It was common knowledge around Wayne Manor that disappearing into your room (or apartment) for a few days meant something different for everyone. Usually, it wasn’t anything to worry about. 

Sometimes it would be Tim finally sleeping when he’s pushed himself too far. Other times, it was Dick working a case and refusing to leave until he knew what to do. For Bruce, it usually meant he was injured and trying to hide it from everyone. 

Jason was still finding these things out little by little, so when you suddenly disappeared into your apartment, he was worried. 

“Honestly, it’s nothing to worry about,” Tim tried to ease his mind. “Y/n tends to retreat when things get bad.”

“And you guys are okay with that?”

Dick shrugged, adjusting the ice pack he had pressed to his forehead. “We tried the first time it happened. After a while, we realized that alone time is the only thing that really works. If y/n needs help, y/n will reach out.”

And the topic ended there. Or at least, it did for Dick and Tim. Jason couldn’t stop thinking about it though—did they really just let you suffer in your apartment all alone whenever you had an episode? The thought made his skin crawl. 

He’s had a few bad episodes over the course of his life, and while he managed to deal with it alone, he didn’t think that you should have to. 

Maybe that’s what led him to your apartment at four in the morning with a bag of takeout. 

You open the door dressed in your pyjamas despite not having slept a wink. You're almost surprised to see Jason standing there with the paper bag. Didn’t everyone know to let you ride it out on your own? You thought they decided to stop bugging you ages ago. 

Still, you don’t think it was fair to slam the door in his face, and instead welcome him inside. “What are you doing here, Jason?”

“Just thought I’d check on you,” he sets the bag on the counter. “Haven’t seen you in a while and wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You squint at him. Did he really think you were that dumb? You figured he would have asked Dick or Bruce right away if you suddenly fell off the face of the earth, and they would have told him about your situation. Jason and you had never been particularly close, either, so why was he here?

He raises his hands in defeat. “I just want to make sure you’re taken care of somewhat. Alright? I’ll leave you alone after that.”

“I mean, I’m fine aren’t I?”

Your words come out harsher than you’d like, but you can’t help but be annoyed at the sudden intrusion. Not to mention the implication that you can’t take care of yourself. 

“You clearly haven’t slept in a while so we both know that’s some bullshit.”

You sigh. He’s right, after all. You can’t remember the last time you slept, let alone for more than a few hours. Though used to staying up late on missions and patrols, you never went this long. 

“I just have a lot on my mind, I guess,” you admit. “But I can take care of myself, Jason. So while I appreciate the concern, you can leave.”

He doesn’t protest, instead grumbling to himself while you show him to the door and effectively kick him out of your apartment. He stands outside the door for a while, wondering if he should try harder. 

He decides against it, and thinks he’ll just have to check on you again tomorrow. 

—

You almost feel guilty unpacking the takeout he got you, but then again, there weren’t many days lately where guilt and stress didn’t weigh heavily on you. As soon as you felt that familiar flood of negative thoughts and emotions, you knew it was time to withdraw. Still, through all of your episodes, you were yet to experience one quite this bad. 

It’s nice that Jason checked on me, you think to yourself. At least someone thought of you. Sure, you’d told the others countless times over the years that solitude while you sort through your thoughts was imperative, and it was true. Regardless, it was nice to have someone check on you, even if it was annoying. 

You dish yourself a plate of Chinese food and sit down on your couch, looking out at Gotham city through the window. It’s a dim, rainy night and the weather does nothing to help your mood. You find yourself picking at your food, having only a few bites before packing it up and leaving it in the fridge. 

You didn’t eat much, but it’s a start. 

—

Jason tries to push back the thoughts of you on patrol the next night, but he can’t. He just thinks of the bags that line your under eyes and the way your voice cracked when you said you were fine. 

It’s only when he damn near loses an eye to a stray bullet that he realizes he can’t ignore it anymore. He ducks around a corner, ready to head back to his bike. 

“Hood, where are you going?” Nightwing calls after him. 

“I gotta go check on something!”

Red Robin scoffs, “y/n is a big kid, Todd. Just leave it alone.” 

He shakes his head at the younger boy. He wants to argue with him but for once in his life, Jason Todd bites his tongue and turns the other cheek. 

When you open the door, you’re unsurprised to see Jason Todd standing there in his Red Hood suit. “Jason?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, walking past you straight into your apartment. “I’m back.”

“I—welcome back?” You close the door behind him, spinning around on your heel and raising an eyebrow at the man in your living room. 

“Look, I know I said I’d leave when I knew you were taken care of but I don’t—you’re not. Like, seriously, y/n, just talk to me.”

You sigh and take a seat on the couch. “Do you really want to listen?”

“Yes,” he says and sits down next to you, dropping his helmet on the cushion next to him. “If it helps you, I’ll listen til my damn ears bleed.”

His words are almost enough to bring a smile to your face, the muscles twitching almost painfully. You nod slowly, drawing your knees into your chest. 

Jason analyzes your body language, seeing just how vulnerable and small you really are despite your usual front. He knows to tread lightly here. 

“I—,” you tug on your hair slightly, trying to think of how to verbalise it. “Have you ever been so tired, like beyond tired, that you can’t sleep?”

He goes to speak, but thinks the better of it. You don’t need to hear about his own problems right now, but the truth is he has. He’s been where you are before—guilt and misery weighing so heavily on him that he can’t breathe. 

“I don’t even know what triggered it. I was fine one day and then all of a sudden….” You gesture to your current state in hopes he gets the idea. “I really hate feeling like this,” tears prick at your eyes and your nose stings with every word, “but I’ve never really found a way to make it stop and—and—“

Jason is almost as surprised as you are when he sets a gloved hand on your shoulder. “Y/n,” his voice is soft, “it’s okay to feel this way.”

His touch helps ground you and you manage to take a deep, shaking breath. “I don’t want you to see me like this, Jason,” you say quietly, voice so soft he almost doesn’t hear.

“There’s no shame in the way you’re feeling.”

“I know that I just—can you just go? Please?”

He opens his mouth to speak, to argue with you, but thinks the better of it. You look so soft and sad and vulnerable. He doesn’t want to push his luck and push you further away from him. 

He grabs his helmet and stands up. “Have a good night, y/n. I hope you manage to get some rest tonight.”

You watch Jason Todd walk out of your apartment door for the second night in a row. 

—

Jason is surprised when his phone screen lights up with your picture while he’s on patrol. The last person he’d expect to call him at two in the morning was you, especially considering he hadn’t heard from you in a few days. 

He tried to come and visit you the next night, but he couldn’t bring himself to knock at your door. Y/n’s tough, he thought to himself. You don’t need his help. 

He can’t pick up the phone in the middle of a fight, though, and has to wait until the henchmen are in a pile on the ground. He doesn’t even retort to Damian’s comment on how long it took him to take them down—his mind too focused on you and what could possibly be wrong. 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, pressing redial on your number. Please be okay, he thinks. 

You answer on the third ring, your voice sounding soft and defeated. “Jason?”

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

“I-I just…” you sigh into the phone and Jason’s heart clenches at the sound. “I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

Jason considers this for only a second. “Alright, I’ll be there in 10.”

He hangs up the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket, making the walk back to his bike. 

“Todd?” Robin says in his earpiece. 

“Pipe down, brat. I have more important things to deal with tonight.”

“More important than protecting the city?” Nightwing says over the comms. 

You have no idea, he wants to say. But he doesn’t, opting to turn off the ear piece and focus on getting to you as quickly as he can. He said he’d be there in 10 minutes, but he’s at your apartment door in 7. 

You’re waiting at the door when he knocks, a blanket over your shoulders, curled in on yourself. As soon as you open the door, you’re wrapping your arms around him. 

His suit is damp from the rain, soaking into your pyjamas and making you shiver. Still, you don’t let go of him. It’s been a particularly rough day, and you needed some company to combat the thoughts filling your head.  

“Miss me?” He jokes. 

You say nothing, content to hold him as close to you as possible. He rubs your back gently before wrapping his arms around you and half carrying you back into your apartment. 

He closes the door behind him, awkwardly adjusting to hold you up with one arm. Not that it’s much of a struggle for him, considering he’s a lot bigger than you are. 

He’s torn, he doesn’t want to let go until you do, but he wants to talk to you and figure out why you needed him so badly. Lucky for him, he doesn’t have to make that choice because suddenly you’re pulling away from him and tucking your hair behind your ears. 

You look anywhere but him. “Um, thanks for coming…”

“Anytime.” 

You try to think of something to say after that, anything to break the ice and explain yourself and not make this a huge waste of time for him. Before you can speak, though, Jason goes first. 

“You don’t have to explain it to me if you don’t want to,” he says. “I know it’s hard.”

You nod slowly, every movement of your body feels sluggish and heavy. You got a few hours of sleep the other day, but only out of sheer exhaustion. Now, it seems the exhaustion is catching up. 

“I’m just gonna…sit down,” you plop onto the couch cushion and pull your knees into your chest. You pat the cushion next to you, inviting him closer. 

Jason takes off his helmet and jacket, laying them on the kitchen island before sitting next to you. “Have you slept much?”

You shake your head, resting your cheek on the cushion and looking into his eyes. “A few hours the other day but…nothing since.”

“Did you want to try while I’m here?”

His eyes are soft, a jarring contrast from his other features. It’s almost as if he’s pleading with you. 

“Y-yeah, okay,” you slowly rise from the couch, your damp pyjamas clinging to your body. You usher for Jason to follow you to your room. 

You dig through your drawers, looking for a pair of clean pyjamas. You settle on a t-shirt you stole from Dick ages ago and a pair of sweats you used for training. Jason looks away while you change, trying his best to respect your privacy despite the way his face heats up. 

You crawl into your bed, trying to rearrange the messy comforter to cover your body. “Do you…is it okay if you lay with me? It only has to be until I fall asleep.”

Jason knows he’s pushing his limits, his heart racing at the thought of being in bed with you. He shakes the thoughts away—this is completely innocent. He’s just taking care of you. 

“Yeah, I can stay a while.”

Jason lays down next to you, his broad frame taking up more than half of your bed. Your breath catches in your throat at his proximity, and his warmth draws you in. Somehow, for the first time in days, his presence is enough to let you relax. 

Jason lays with you for some time, just staring at the back of your head while you cuddle your pillow. You must have fallen asleep at some point, because your breathing is even and your body is relaxed. 

He smiles, it’s the most calm he’s seen you in days. He knows you’re sleeping now and he can leave, but he doesn’t want to. What if you wake up and he’s gone? He doesn’t want to risk upsetting you. 

You roll over in your sleep, your head landing perfectly under his arm and on his chest. His breath hitches in his throat at the contact. He tries to adjust his body to make it as comfortable as possible for you to lay on him. 

He wraps an arm around your waist, cradling you within his own body. Jason can’t help but think to himself in this moment that he’ll take care of you no matter what, even if you can’t take care of yourself. 

[dr-spectre]

Heyyyy I love it when you ramble about the Squid Sisters!! Give us more of your opinions and headcanons about them pls pls I need it

HAAHAHAH! OF COURSE! I don't have anymore headcanons but i wanna ramble about the Squid Sisters.

I think some of the many reasons why i tend to ramble about the Squid Sisters a lot and why i love them so much is because their dynamic is so unique compared to the other idol groups and they have gone through character arcs and change. Callie is not the same person she was in Splatoon 1 and so is Marie and i think that's really beautiful. The two of them are basically inseparable and understand each others boundaries by the time Splatoon 3 rolls around, which is so vastly different from how they act towards in each other in Splatoon 1 where they take their jokes too personally against each other.

They basically fall apart when they are separated. Marie becomes depressed and isolates herself, she worries constantly and looks so incredibly anxious and upset.

And when Callie is alone she becomes a lot more emotional, impulsive, irrational, angry, overthinking, she runs away because she can't handle her busy and lonely life anymore. She joins the Octarians because it's better in her mind to join them than rather stay in a life where you're constantly harassed by paparazzi and work day in and day out. She puts on these shades that make her feel calm and relaxed, that make her feel like she's on cloud nine, they are not some "evil brainwashing shades that make people wanna serve the Octarians" they are just hypnotic shades that help Callie deal with her emotions in a very unhealthy way. I like to see it as an allegory for drug abuse and the pressures of fame, and the story makes way more sense if you put it into that context.

In Splatoon 2 you aren't saving her from " being kidnapped and evil brainwashing shades ooo" you are saving her from the darkness and illness that has built up in her head. The pain and loneliness she has felt for so long, clouding her mind. Marie comes in and reaches out to Callie, to rekindle their relationship and make up for all the mean things she said during Splatoon 1. Callie only reunites with Marie because she remembers all the good memories she had with Marie, and that Marie does care for her and wants to reunite. She feels energized and says to herself "I remember..." Not from some "song that frees people from brainwashing" that's bullshit lmao. Callie didn't suffer from memory loss under the shades. It's from all the good memories flooding back into her head from that catchy heavenly melody.

When you see the story of Splatoon 2 as a story about two cousins who's relationship has been broken apart and one of them wants to fix it, despite the other wanting nothing to do with them and giving into the darkness in their head, it makes it so much better. Fresh Start as a song literally doesn't make sense if you take the common and false narrative of "Callie was kidnapped, overpowered and then brainwashed into being a slave for the Octarians and branded with a tattoo." Fresh Start works a thousand times better and actually makes sense when you take into the deeper context and themes at work. Callie is literally called a "lovable rebel" in the official relationship chart for a reason and is seen in art multiple times where she has the shades with her. Would the developers and writers who made her suffer from getting kidnapped and being "brainwashed" pose her like this? I think not. Maybe that common notion is wrong... hmm...

Callie kept putting on the shades because she's most likely addicted to them, it helps her deal with her pain in an unhealthy way. And it's only when Marie and Callie change their schedules and cut back on the acting gig Callie has become trapped in, is when real change happens and the two of them can finally heal together and be better.

I think that's why i tend to ramble on and on about the same stuff relating to Splatoon 2, because i want to make sure that these characters i love are shown respect and people take the right information from the story.

I really do love these two girls. In fact i fucking HATE seeing r34 of them, it grosses me out. I see these two in a comforting lens and any sort of r34 art or misinterpretation of events genuinely makes me mad and gives me chest pain.

I see Marie in a sort of "she's literally me" way and it makes me happy knowing that a character is out there that shares a lot of similarities with me. And Callie... It's weird, i used to not think much of her until last year. Something just sort of snapped and i found myself to become REALLY fixated on her. It's just something about her that i really really love and i can't put into words...

Also their music is pretty damn good too ngl. I know people tend to make fun of Splatoon's music and call it "piss gargling" but... make them listen to all of the versions of Calamari Inkantation, Tidal Rush, Ink me Up, etc, and see how they feel afterwards lmao.

Anyways, i love these two girls and i will be their biggest defenders UNTIL I DIE!

[igotanidea]

Be careful who you bring home : Morpheus x reader

part 2 is up

request/summary by anon: you know how people get pets for emotional support? reader with anxiety or fear of loneliness finds a big black cat in a park and she is just: yeah, you are coming home with me. cat happens to be post imprisonement!morpheus. he wants to argue, but she quickly takes him to her apartment which is conveniently close to the park. reader cooing to cat: who is my little baby and Matthew seeing it from the street and laughing at his boss. with 142 for reader (maybe he said something while being a cat) and 153 for morpheus.

142 was "it's just your imagination", 153 was "put me down" I might have changed the request a little bit but I hope you'll like it. Also thete is a bit of a twist/ crossover in the story. Wonder if you'll get it :D

***

„Have you ever considered getting a pet?”

The girl in her mid-twenties, dressed in comfy, black clothes sitting in front of the therapist frowned in confusion.

“A pet” she repeated “and why would I need that?”

“You know, it is proven that they have positive effect on people who suffer from depression and anxiety, so maybe this would be a good idea for healing process”

“Do you give such advice to all of your patients, doctor Raynor? Did you give such advice to Bucky, as well?”

“We both know he is not that kind of guy.”

“Really, why not?” the girl shrugged “he had some goats in Wakanda after all.”

“Stop joking around.”

“Jeez, fine. I won’t get a pet. In my current mental state I can barely take care of myself, let alone any other living being. Any other words of wisdom coming from you?”

“Not with this attitude. You may leave for now.”

“You know if I was paying you that would be the shittiest session not worth a dime.” She grabbed her coat and without a word, hands in the pocket left the room and not-so-pleased therapist.

A pet. Good joke. A four legged animal who would wake her up in the morning and at night asking for food or caress. A being that would turn her life upside down since it would require constant care and supervision to avoid destroying her apartment. Nope. Thank you very much. She was good enough by herself. Determined to get her head and broken soul back together and get clearance to get back to SHIELD and field operations. She missed that, but apparently beating up a bunch of bad guys leaves you in emotional trauma and in need of recover. Bullshit! She was an agent, for god’s sake, not a crying mess. Her attitude was far from cheerful and optimistic but just today she had to curb her murderous thoughts since one of her nieces were supposed to visit. Jemma was five years old and was still going through her princesses, pink glitter and unicorns faze. She was a challenge to be around, but definitely worth it. Her father, agent’s sister were supposed to drop her in straight to the house, but just a minute ago she got the message about the change in plans. Since the weather was beautiful and it was not often this time of the year, he took the chance for a little walk in the park and decided to meet his sister there instead of in the four walls. As she approached the park, she noticed her family amongst other walking people. Jemma was running around, picking leaved and jumping into the pools with loud, happy squeals. She could not hold back the tiniest smile on her face.

“She’s gonna get all wet and dirty and then who will tend to that?” the girl mocked while coming closer

“Hm, don’t know. I think at this point she would be someone else’s responsibility.”

“Hello, brother.”

“Hello sister” he hugged her tightly “how you’ve been? Life still kicking you in the guts?”

“I mean, when it doesn’t? You know my line of work….” Her brother was convinces she was just some regular office worker dealing with boring documents, since that was simply safer for everyone.

“Right, so mundane and ordinary…..” he rolled his eyes

“Auntie!” Jemma turned around and run straight to her favorite relatives not caring about the mud she left on her trousers while clutching to her legs.

“Hi, cupcake. Don’t you have to much energy?”

“I have so much to tell you! About the rhyme I’ve learned and some new letters I came across and my friends and everything” little girl jumped around in excitement “And I know a new magic trick dad showed me. But I still don’t quite understand it….” she frowned

“It;s ok, cupcake, we can work on that.”

“Oh, thank god. Like I said, your responsibility now. Good luck.” Girl’s brother was quick to get himself some freedom “just don’t give her too much sweets, you know how she gets after that”

“Yeah, too well. See you in a couple of hours then. Come on, Jemma” she took her niece’s little hand sticky with some mysterious substance “ let’s go home.”

If only it was that easy. They only took a couple steps when the little one broke out from aunt’s grip.

“Look, auntie, a cat!” she run over to the bench where unusually big and beautiful animal was soaking up the sun.  Before he realized what hit him, he was squeezed and carried by a little pair of still sticky hands and it was visible he did not like it.

“Jemma! Leave that animal alone. It may hurt you.”

Do not refer to me as “it”. I am a male personification. And put me down! Immediately!

She could swear she heard something in the back of her mind, but let it go. After all, cats do not talk and she was in therapy for mental trouble so it was probably just her mind playing tricks on her.

“Can we take him home, auntie, he’s so sweet, please” little girl pouted

“No. Of course not, look at… him. He is very good looking, so most probably belongs to someone. Not a chance he’s a stray cat. “

“I can’t see anyone looking for him” a couple tears showed up in Jemma;s eyes. “Please, auntie, please….” Great, now she was crying out loud getting the attention of few pedestrians.

“Ok, fine, fine, just please stop crying.”

“Thank you” Jemma stopped her actions in a second and smiled widely showing the jags in her mouth. “I will carry him so don’t worry about it, auntie” she held the cat even closer not caring about him writing in her embrace.

“Just be careful so he won’t hurt you” she warned following her niece, wondering what the hell she got herself into.

I will not hurt this little mortal.

At this point, the older girl was pretty sure she was going crazy. And to think that Raynor wanted her to have a pet to help her mental health, not deteriorate it.

***

“Auntie, look, I made him pretty”

“Mhm, great” she did not even bother to look up from some records she was currently reading “wait, you did what, Jemma?” a second later she came to realization what a five-year-old girl can mean by saying “made pretty”.

“Look, auntie” said five year old was quick to get the cat out from behind and proudly present it. Despite her rather gloomy attitude the older one could not hold back a laugh. Black fur was now embellished  with colorful glitter and was wearing a crown. If it wasn’t for the lack of resources at home Jemma would probably extend her imagination even more.

“Oh” she cooed “look who’s pretty boy” her grin was now getting wider and wider. She was no expert on animal behavior but the look on its face clearly indicated it was not happy with the situation.

“I wanted to give him a braid, but the fur was too short” Jemma saddened

“Don’t worry sweetie, it looks just perfect. Like a ….”

“Princess!” Jemma squealed and turned around with the cat still in her embrace.

“Don’t you both dare. This is humiliating”. Once again there was this little voice inside girl’s head.

“Ok, honey, why don’t you let go of the cat now. I got a snack for you.”

“Chocolate cake?” Jemma asked innocently while playing with her fingers and shyly looking at the floor

“Apple and carrots”

“That is boooooring. And I don’t like carrots” Jemma whined

“Well, too bad for you. I heard veggies give you strength. And then your skin looks healthy and shines almost like the cat’s fur. Wouldn’t you like to look beautiful?”

“I’d rather be smart” Jemma retorted taking her aunt aback with maturity of this sentence “but I guess beauty can help in future. I saw on TV that pretty girls always have what they want so whatever” she shrugged and rushed towards the kitchen where the snack was already waiting for her.

“Unbelievable” her aunt shook her head “but she’ll be busy for a while, so how about we get you all cleaned up, huh?” she picked the cat from the floor and walked towards the bathroom ignoring the writhing animal, who was not happy about forced wash.

Put me down! It demanded again and the girl stopped looking him straight in the eyes trying to check out if she was really going nuts.

“Oh come on, girl, get yourself together. It’s just your imagination.”

She walked straight into the bathroom and started gently combing out the fur. Surprisingly, her action bring the animal comfort because surprisingly to both of them he started purring.

***

Two hours later, tired and sleepy Jemma was picked up by her father and her aunt could finally let the cat out into the wild. It was impossible earlier since the little girl was checking on him every five minutes, refusing to drop this action.

“Sorry about today. “ she muttered opening the door “but hey, on the bring side at least you have a nice story to tell to your fellow cats. Besides, you really are a pretty animal.” maybe it was another impression or the flicker of lights, but it seemed like the cats fur became a bit reddish and he squinted. “go, now, find your owners, get home safe, fella.”

It was just a couple of hours, but the girls was actually starting to think that maybe, hypothetically, Raynor was right about this whole “emotional support pet” stuff.

***

Morpheus bristled and crossed the street. Only on the other side of the road he changed back into the anthropomorphic personification of dreams.

“Um, boss?” his loyal yet rebellious Raven perched on the branch, tilting his head slightly. If he was still human he would probably laugh himself silly.

“Not a word, Matthew. Not a single word about it. To anyone” he reached for his sand and completely ignoring further words of the bird transported them back to the Dreaming “Do I make myself clear” he made sure before entering the palace.

“Sure thing, boss. But it was funny don’t you think?”

“Hold your tongue, Matthew!”

@somest1 @pinksirensong

[midnightkens]

i love you, i hate you

TW: Homophobia/biphobia, homophobic slurs, past child abuse, religious trauma, alcoholism, allusions to PTSD, mentions of depression

--

Colt hates December.

The Decembers of adulthood are a far cry from those of the latter half of his childhood and his teenage years. The harsh, biting Seattle winters meant being handcuffed to intense seasonal depression and anxiety, a toxic current that threatened to sweep him under as the months dragged.

Even living in sunny Los Angeles, depression sometimes wraps its tendrils around him. It's bearable now, but it's a small solace. December still brings horrors he'd rather forget. The phone feels heavy in his hands, and he uses his other hand to brace himself against the counter.

It's almost Christmas, but it's never been the most wonderful time of the year for the Seavers family.

Other families get to sit around a tree, opening presents and laughing together. His father's house looks like any other. It's decked to the nines in garland and wreathes, an extravagant tree and a nativity scene. Colt clenches his fist at the thought. His father, the God-fearing Christian, the preacher, so devoted to his parishioners and their families, the fakest fucking human being that Colt knows. His parishioners don't see the real Benjamin Seavers, the violent alcoholic, the abusive father and useless husband. Christmas doesn't change anything. It's an excuse for him to get sloshed, grumble about Colt never visiting, and inevitably stumble to bed, blacked out in a drunken stupor.

It's so fucking fake, and Colt hates them, yet he returns. Year after year he hops on a plane and spends a week in his childhood home, feeling like a terrified eight year old all over again.

Hands wrap around his waist, and Colt feels feather-light lips press a kiss on his shoulder. He lifts his hand and clings to Ken's arm, subconsciously leaning into the touch.

"You really don't have to go," Colt murmurs. "I know how it'll go. Hi, Dad. Are you drunk already? Why do you always think I'm drunk? And why did you bring your faggot ass partner? Dad, I'm gonna have to ask you not to call Ken a faggot. To quote Taylor Swift, I think I've seen this film before. You don't need to suffer with me."

"That's not even the worst thing I've ever been called," Ken reminds him nonchalantly. Colt rolls his eyes. "And I handled your mother pretty well, didn't I?"

"Yeah, and you looked hot doing it," Colt admits. "But you can't kick Dad out of his own house."

"I always look hot." Colt's shoulders shake with barely suppressed laughter and Ken grins. "And yeah, we can't kick your dad outta his house, but what's stopping us from just leaving? You're a grown man, hon. You don't have to take his bullshit anymore."

"I know. It's just really fucking complicated, and I hate that it is, and I don't want to drag you into it."

"You're not dragging me into anything. Listen, you've put up with my issues and Patrick stalking us and all that. Let me come with you so you don't have to deal with your crazy dad alone."

Colt sighs. Ken's voice leaves no room for argument, and a small part of him is happy that he won't have to be alone.

He just wishes it were different.

--

Colt grips the steering wheel so tightly that it creaks under the force. Ken looks out the window and sings under his breath. There's no place like home for the holidays. But Colt isn't home. He's returning to his personal Hell, the place he's never belonged. Colt's stomach lurches as they pass the church he grew up in. Cars fill the parking lot, and images of his father screaming his Sunday sermons, a wild look in his brown eyes, flash before his eyes.

Ken doesn't speak of his childhood much. Colt knows he and Barb grew up in foster care, and his needs and wants often went unmet. But he knows that Ken has never set foot inside any church. Anytime Colt describes his childhood, Ken looks like a deer in headlights.

It was traumatic, but it was all Colt knew until he escaped. Even now, the pounding of his fathers fists and the sound of his booming voice as he tries to cast the demons out of Colt are so visceral that he debates pulling over and making Ken drive the rest of the way.

A therapist he saw after his accident called it a flashback. He and Ken know how to ground the other one through them. But for Colt, it's easy to ignore them so long as he doesn't entertain thoughts about his parents, or his sister, or the church.

Easier said than done.

--

Colt pulls into the driveway and drums his fingers on the dashboard. He drinks in the sight of the nativity scene, the huge wreath on the front door, the Peace sign on the side of the house. Passerby wouldn't give the house a second glance. It's small and unassuming, perfect for hiding the dirty secrets inside.

Ken takes one of Colt's hands and gives it a squeeze. If his hand is sweaty, his partner doesn't comment. "It's okay, hon," Ken reassures. "I'll be here the whole time."

Colt nods. If he opens his mouth, he might throw up.

He's not sure when he gets out of the car, but suddenly he and Ken are at the front door. Someone must've knocked? Was it him? He doesn't have time to ask himself more questions before someone barrels into him, knocking his breath away.

"Uncle Colt!" Colt immediately relaxes and glances at his niece. Melanie is ten now, and with a smug smirk, thinks that she's starting to look more like him the older she gets. "Mom and Dad told me, Charlotte, and Lydia that you weren't coming!"

Colt barely refrains from rolling his eyes. Of course Natalie and her scumbag husband would have commentary. Don't they know better by now? He's too weak to stay away. But there's some solace in his nieces' eagerness to see him. "Hey, short stuff." Colt ruffles her hair and hugs her tightly. He really should see Mel, Lottie, and Lydia more often, but he'll go to jail if he's around his sister too much.

Melanie pulls back with an affronted gasp. "I'm not short! I - " She cuts herself off and fixes her eyes on something to Colt's left. His heart races. Please take it well, please take it well, please take it well. "Who's this?"

Colt swallows and slips his hand into Ken's. Ken runs his thumb over Colt's knuckles, and some of the tension in his shoulders eases. "Mel, this is Ken. Ken, this is my niece, Melanie. Ken is - "

"Ohhhhh! Lydia!" Melanie turns and eagerly races back to the living room, blonde ponytail swishing behind her. "Lottie! Uncle Colt brought his boyfriend!"

Colt winces and steals a glance at Ken. His partner's eyes dance with mirth, and he guides them into the house. "Come on. She seems excited, at least."

Yeah, but she shouldn't have - Colt quickly halts that train of thought. Melanie is ten, she doesn't know any better, and he's about to introduce Ken as his partner anyway. It doesn't matter. Colt closes the door and hears footsteps trampling down the stairway. He braces himself for the onslaught.

Lottie and Lydia slam into him, but he doesn't fall back this time. He wraps his arms around them both, looking around in amusement as they speak over each other. Lottie's thirteen now, Lydia sixteen. He's missed out on so much time with them, and it hurts.

"Hi, Uncle Colt!" Lydia pulls away first and all but yanks Lottie back. Lottie scowls and swats at her sister, but Lydia hardly pays her attention. "Where have you been?"

"Yeah," Lottie interjects. "Why don't you come visit?"

"Is it 'cause of Mom? She's, like, on one today, so watch out."

"Great," Colt says wryly. "I've been looking forward to that."

Lydia rolls her eyes. "Yeah, she's a bitch. Anyway." She grins cheekily, and Colt narrows his eyes. That's never a good sign. "Is this your boyfriend?" Lydia looks Ken up and down, and Colt swallows.

They've never met any of Colt's previous boyfriends. None of them have ever been serious enough. They know about his bisexuality (thanks, Natalie), but this feels different. "Yeah, Lydia. This is Ken. He's my boyfriend."

"Hi." Ken waves at the girls. His arms are lax at his sides. His lips quirk in amusement, but he allows the girls to size him up.

"Hi." Lottie crosses her arms and taps her feet. "How'd you meet my uncle?"

"Singing karaoke."

Lydia blinks in surprise. "That's kinda cute. Was he any good?"

"I don't know." Ken shoots Colt a smug smirk. "He didn't sing. I did and then he came up to me and talked my ear off."

"And you loved every second of it. You can't fool me."

"Yeah, sounds about right."

"How would you know?" Colt counters, jaw dropped in shock. Sassy. "You're not even old enough to get into a bar!"

Lydia shrugs. "You talk a lot."

Ken laughs and pats his back. "It's okay, babe. I think we're even there."

"I like him," Melanie says. "He seems nice."

Colt's shoulders slump in relief. His nieces mean the entire world to him. He tries so hard to counter the toxicity spewed by their parents, to mold their worldview and teach them how to be accepting. They only speak over text, and sometimes, Colt is never sure if his attempts are successful. But for Melanie to like him, and oh, Lydia and Lottie are nodding in agreement...It's a huge deal. It gives him hope that his nieces will be able to break the cycle. "He's all right," Colt says with a shrug. "I think I'm gonna keep him around."

"Girls!"

Here it comes.

Natalie is an imposing woman. She's tall and dark-haired like their mother, with the same striking green eyes. It's eerie. And somehow, she's somehow more homophobic than Mother Dearest. She locks eyes with Colt and purses her lips. Colt stiffens and keeps his eyes locked on hers, like he's preparing for battle.

"Girls, I thought I told you to get in the kitchen. Run along now." The girls grumble, but do as they're told. Colt knows that feeling all too well. Natalie spent their childhood making snide demands of him and making the consequences very apparent.

Natalie steps closer and wrinkles her nose like she's smelled something particularly unpleasant. Ken squeezes Colt's hand, and Natalie notices the action. "Who's this?"

"You're not dumb. You know who he is."

"Why'd you bring him?"

"Why'd you bring your husband?"

Natalie's lips press into a thin line, and when she speaks next, it's through gritted teeth. "That's different, Colton."

"How?" Ken asks with mock sincerity. "How is it different?"

Natalie sneers at them, and Colt suspects she'd like nothing more than to spit on them both. "Because you're breaking my father's heart - "

Colt barks out a surprised laugh. "His heart? Come on, Nat. You and I both know that Dad doesn't have one of those."

Colt all but drags Ken into the den, away from his sister. Dad's in there. Benjamin Seavers glazes blearily at them over the top of his beer bottle. Colt swallows. It's so fucking hard to be in the same room as him. He's tall and broad, all blond hair and steely blue eyes. Colt despises looking in the mirror sometimes.

"Colt." Dad stumbles over to them and clasps a large hand on Colt's shoulder. Colt doesn't even flinch. He doesn't acknowledge Ken at all. "I thought I told you not to bring that into this house."

"Too bad. He is my partner, his name is Ken, he's staying, and you'll respect him or we're getting on the next flight home."

"I have no problems getting the belt, boy - "

"Oh, you don't? Try me, old man! I'm bigger than you, and I cou -"

"Let's go see what's happening in the kitchen, Colt." Ken all but yanks him away and drags him to a secluded hallway. Colt presses his palms into his eyes so hard that he sees stars. Ken rubs his arms soothingly, and Colt leans into the touch.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he groans. "I'm sorry you had to hear me threaten to beat my dad. We shouldn't have come. He's an asshole and Nat - I don't know what the fuck to call her - "

"Hey, hey, none of that. We don't have to stay, remember? Say the word, and I'll book us a flight home."

"I know. I just don't want to hurt my nieces. They don't really get it."

Ken looks at him sadly, but he doesn't argue. He was in a situation he felt trapped in, too. There's an understanding between them that runs deep, but Colt wishes it didn't exist. For both of their sakes.

--

"And they threw you out a window?" Lottie's so enraptured by Colt's story that she doesn't notice her food sliding off her fork.

"Yeah, and then they - "

"Girls, stop it." Colt's brother-in-law pounds his fist on the table. The girls don't flinch, but Ken does. Colt grabs his hand to ground him. "I don't want you taking life advice from someone like that."

"Like what?" Colt challenges. "Come on, Rick. You got something to say, then say it to my damn face."

"It's obvious, son." Benjamin places his fork on his plate, but it's too loud in the otherwise quiet room. The tension is so thick that Colt could cut it with a knife. He jiggles his leg up and down and clenches a fist around his own fork. The moment is father speaks again, he's taken right back to his childhood, and Dad's about to beat the demons out of him. "The girls shouldn't be taking advice from a faggot who dropped out of high school."

"Don't call him that!" Ken snaps. His face flushes with barely contained rage. Colt almost forgot he was there. "He's your kid, and this is how you talk to him? What's the matter with you?"

Benjamin clenches his jaw and waves a dismissive hand. "You. Why don't you shut the fuck up? This is family business."

"How very Christian of you," Ken retorts. "I bet you're real proud of yourself. And for the record, I am his family."

Colt places a hand on Ken's knee. Is he about to get beaten? No, he can't be, he's an adult, Dad can't - but Dad's fists are raised and is this another exorcism? No, it's two days before Christmas and he doesn't live here -

He doesn't know how he ends up on the sofa in the living room. Ken kneels in front of him. He's saying something, but it's coming out gibberish. He tries to read Ken's lips, but his face crumples and he shakes his head.

"I fucking hate them," Colt whispers. "I really, really fucking hate them."

"I know." The other side of the cheap couch dips as Ken takes a seat next to him. The hand on his back grounds him, if only a little. "Look at me, honey. Watch me, and take a deep breath."

But he can't. He can hear his father and sister scream in the dining room; he thinks one of his nieces is crying. This is all his fault.

"No, it's not," Ken says softly. "It's theirs, Colt. It's not your fault they're bad people."

But it is. He's always been too much. Too hyper, too talkative, too daring, too different.

He wants to go home, but he can't.

The idea of getting off the sofa is too daunting.

[bsnotoneaskedfor]

Tired MK

Before you judge, hear me out.

MK goes through SO much shit because of his "Monkey Kid" status. Like, a ton. As someone who is a teen and struggles with mental health it is so obvious that MK has been spiraling since day one. The poor dude is going to die of anxiety and depression before the Lady Bone Bitch tries to order a smackdown with a side of trauma. MK is also a people pleaser. He legit is always trying to live up to people's standards and be "just like Monkey King".

Here's the thing: I also suffer from trying to please everyone and let me tell you that shit is exhausting. Fuck magic, the thing that really makes this show fiction is that MK hasn't had a massive mental breakdown. He's had baby ones, that are still valid, but he's pushed them aside because "he has to be the hero". He never really shows signs of emotional distress besides the show poking fun at it or using it for plot. For those in the comments, please don't try to psychoanalyze the show to prove me wrong. This is just what I have seen. So, with this being said, there is something I really would love to see and have adopted it as my personal headcannon.

MK being done with everyone's shit.

Not, "MK's tired", or "MK's sassy ;D", or even Mk going through an emo phase.

I want absolutely 100% done MK.

I want to see him surviving on coffee or energy drinks because the weight of everyone's expectations keeps him up at night. I want him mad when people start blaming him/looking to him for answers because "he's the Monkey Kid". I want him done with Wukong's bullshit. I want my realistic representation of burnout and mental illness. I want to see him trying to get better and no longer caring about calling people out for being toxic.

I don't know if I'm 100% explaining this right because words are really hard so here are some examples of what I see my MK head cannon as.

(This one's based off that one TikTok audio where the guy yells at the cats to get off the couch)

MK: *Sitting peacefully, attempting to do homework or some other quiet activity*

Macaque and Wukong : *fighting like feral cats*

MK: (almost roars it) STOP IT!

Macaque and Wukong : *is startled and a little afraid*

MK : LEARN TO FUCKING GET ALONG OR SO HELP ME I'LL TEST THE LIMITS OF YOUR IMMORTALITY

Macaque and Wukong : *obeying, nearly about to piss themselves out of fear*

MK: *Deep Breath. Goes back to what he was doing*

Every Demon Within 50 miles : wtf was that?

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

MK: *chugging a coffee or energy drink*

Some Demon: *starts destroying the city*

MK : Dammit *Chugs faster. *

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

Wukong: Hey bud! When's the last time that you've slept?

MK: *completely deadpan* It is finals week.

Wukong : That doesn't answer-

MK:*getting angrier* I have to defend the city every damn day. I have to deal with your messes, including you. I train every day for at least 4 hours even when we don't meet up. I WORK FULL TIME AT THE GODDAMN NOODLE SHOP AND THEN I HAVE TO FUCKING STUDY FOR COLLEGE. WHEN IN THE NAME OF BUHDDA WOULD I BE ABLE TO SLEEP?!?!

Wukong : *sweats* So I see that you're stressed-

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

Team Monkey : Why didn't you use [ insert power] to start with?!

MK: *sarcastic* I'm sorry. I thought we all deserved a nice bonding trip where we spent the entire time bickering and getting the shit beaten out of us. Was that supposed to be next week?!?

Team Monkey : . . .

MK: How about you guys make a list of everything I can do. That way, next time, we can just all look at it together and none of you blame me.

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

Red Son : * trying to pick a fight and just being a dick in general*

MK: *Not having it* Do not make me duct tape you down so I can embroider your worst nightmares onto your skin, you pompous little fuck!

Red Son : . . .wtf

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

Red Son : *Is pretty*

MK: *deep sigh of disappointment* I need therapy . . .

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

Mei : * Gets the Samhadi Fire*

MK: *remembering all the shit and expectations he went through once he got his powers*

Mei: *About to have a breakdown*

MK: *laughs* Have fun

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

Red Son: *breaks in at the middle of the night in an attempt to capture MK*

MK: *is awake because insomnia* So, do you , like, want some tea . . .?

May do a Pt 2

[anachrosims]

I'm gonna get yelled at for this because Faulkner is the fandom's Special Boy(tm) but--

I cannot stand him. And it's not the actor (though the long, drawling, overdramatic manner of speaking is something I never liked, but I associate that with The Character and not The Actor, who I think does an amazing job)-- it's also not the writing.

In fact, I think the writing is as stellar as the voice acting!

Sometimes you just don't like characters. And before anyone is like, "you just don't understand him" or w/e, I can assure you, I do.

Read on if you want to know why I don't want him and Carpenter to have a happy/reconciled ending.

I know what it is to feel abandoned by everyone even before I start pushing people away. I know what it is to be a walking self-fulfilling prophecy awash in self-pity. I know what it is to never feel 'enough', to have vision for a better world and future, to always feel disregarded, underestimated.

... but what drives me nuts about Faulkner is his unwillingness to admit fault without making it all about himself. At some point, I had to recognize what my dysfunction and severe depression were causing me to do to the people around me. I had to recognize that, understandable though my behavior was (self pity, self deprecation, just being an all-around emotional black hole), it was hurting not just myself but other people. And it sucked! It sucked because I was coming off a childhood of abuse and CPTSD! I had every g-ddamn reason to be what I was!! ...But that gave me no right to be so selfish as to never recognize that I was turning my pain onto other people, intentionally or not.

I can't stand to hear Faulkner wax poetic about blaming everyone else for his bullshit, and then, when he does blame himself, it's not out of contrition or to make a damn thing better. And through the whole series he's been blinded not by his faith in the Trawlerman, but by his own delusions of grandeur. I think he's lost touch with his faith because he betrayed that faith to be zealous for his own ambitions.

Guy is suffering consequences of his own actions but he ain't even learning from 'em. And what drives me nuts the MOST, is the consequences of his selfishness are a BODYCOUNT. Normally I love watching characters like this on their downward spiral, but it's not as fun when I have to listen to half an hour of their self-pity monologue, and know that their lack of real humility is only going to get more people killed.

I hope that he and Carpenter DON'T get that happy ending. Sometimes friendships can't heal. Sometimes people don't want to take a look at themselves and actually do what's right. I want to hope that Faulkner can at least have a chance to work toward that at all, but with two episodes left... nah, son. This boy was born under a star of hubris, and Carpenter deserves not to deal with his messes. He hopes she hates him, but that's more selfishness talking; hate burns and corrupts you when you hold onto it, and Carpenter deserves better than that.

[olderthannetfic]

I'm not sure if anyone has said this before, but I always thought the reason why m/m dominates in fandom (generally speaking) is because a lot of fandom writers are women who grew up suffering under the patriarchy, and they want to see romances where they can project themselves onto either lead character without having to experience misogynistic attitudes, negative female stereotypes, and subconscious biases directed at either character.

I know that's why *I* personally started reading m/m, and over the years I've wondered if this is the reason why m/m has surged in popuarity with cis and het women.

Certainly, I read m/f and f/f too, but it just doesn't feel the same. Most writers grow up shaped by societies that favor men, and many stories will feature societies that favor men, and having this be a world-building *factor* is almost inescapable. Every female character I read is either consciously or subconsciously fighting against/fulfilling society's expectations of her, and it's exhausting after awhile because it hits too close to home.

Of course, there's great value in showing women tackling these systemic prejudices. We absolutely need these stories too. But when it comes to romance, I just want to be swept away to a place where I don't have to think about any of that for awhile, and one of the easiest ways to do that is to project myself onto a male character, who is romancing another male character.

Because while these characters might face prejudice of a different sort, any kind of homophobia aimed at them usually targets both simultaneously, making it a shared burden. Whereas in m/f, misogyny will single out the woman. (And f/f will sometimes have the characters face homophobia + misogyny, a depressing double whammy.) But M/m has a way of equalizing the two parties in a way that frees them up to deal with romantic obstacles unrelated to patriarchal bullshit, and personally I find that extremely comforting and inspiring to read. Yes, it's wish-fulfillment. But isn't that why we read romance in the first place?

--

M/M does not dominate in fandom.

It dominates on AO3, a site set up by m/m shippers to protect m/m fic from being deleted.

There's plenty else we can discuss here, but it's pointless to even start if people don't have the basic starting knowledge that FFN and Wattpad are full of het.

[dreamwraith]

Shiptember Day 3: 3rd Wheel

Ship: Pitch Pearl (parasite theory; Phantom was a ghost bonded to Danny)

Summary: During a cross-country road trip, Sam and Tucker notice something going on between Danny and Phantom. They call Jazz in a panic, but she blows past their every excuse until reaching the real reason for their discomfort: Sam and Tucker don't want things to change.

--

“Tucker!” Jazz interrupted, her voice ringing through the speaker phone. “Slow down! Start over. What’s happening between Danny and Phantom?”

Tucker forced himself to draw in a deep breath. “Okay, so….” He sat on the hotel bed in a further attempt to calm himself. “It started once Phantom got behind the wheel—”

“You guys let him drive? He doesn’t have a driver’s license!”

“He and Danny were still merged when they were learning how to drive,” Tucker said defensively. “So, he knows how to drive, he just can’t get his driver’s license because he’s not technically a citizen. It’s total bullshit which is why we agreed to make him part of the rotation.”

“And if a cop pulled you guys over?”

“Then Phantom would have overshadowed them. Come on, Jazz, we thought this through. We’re adults now too, you know.”

Jazz snorted. “You’re all barely eighteen,” she muttered.

Sam looked away from the window, and the two friends shared a commiserating eye roll. Dealing with Danny’s sister could be trying sometimes.

“Anyway,” Tucker said forcefully, “that’s when it started.”

“What started?”

“The…” Tucker met Sam’s eyes again, hoping she knew how to describe what they saw, but she only shrugged. “The thing. The thing going on between Danny and Phantom. Danny sat in the passenger seat and coached Phantom through the motions until he started picking up on it again. That was fine. Then the inside jokes started. Just. Little jokes about when Jack and Maddie were trying to teach them. Danny or Phantom would laugh and it was like…like…”

“And that made you and Sam feel left out? Is that what this is about?”

“That’s not the issue here,” Tucker said, evading the question. “It. Just. Didn’t. Stop.”

“They shared a mind for almost two years, Tucker. Of course they’re close.”

“Not like this,” Tucker insisted.

Sam pushed away from the window and approached Tucker on the bed. “Has Danny been hanging out with Phantom?” she asked Jazz.

“Wouldn’t you guys know that better than me?” Jazz asked, confused. “I’m at Harvard, remember? I haven’t seen either of them since Spring Break.”

“Yeah, but you speak to them on the phone, right?” Sam pushed. “Does Danny ever mention Phantom?”

“Of course he does. He keeps me updated on things over there. Phantom fought off an invasion last week, right? He’s worn out, and that’s why you all insisted on this trip?”

“Personal details, Jazz,” Sam clarified. “Does Danny mention anything beyond Phantom’s hero activities?”

“Maybe? I didn’t realize I was supposed to be looking for that kind of information.”

“He’s your brother!” Sam exclaimed. “Shouldn’t you care about how he’s doing?”

“Danny’s doing just fine,” Jazz said, defensive. “A little depressed that you guys are leaving for college, but otherwise…”

“She meant Phantom, Jazz,” Tucker said. “Your other brother.”

“What?”

“Phantom’s your brother too!”

“I love him like a brother, but why do I get the feeling you two are trying to create an artificial relation between us?”

Sam and Tucker shared a forlorn glance. “If Jazz doesn’t even see him as a brother,” Tucker whispered to Sam, “what are the chances Danny sees him as a brother?”

“Evidence would suggest the odds are slim to none,” she replied, huffing.

“And anyway,” Jazz continued, “ I talk to Phantom on the phone too. I don’t need to ask Danny when I can just ask Phantom directly how he’s doing. He’s stressed and suffering from PTSD, by the way. I think this road trip will be good for him. He needed to get away from Amity Park for a while and remember it’s okay to relax every now and then.”

“Does he mention Danny?” Tucker asked quickly.

“Why are you guys so fixated on this? I just said Phantom has PTSD! That’s a little more important, you know.”

“Just answer the question, Jazz,” Sam said. “We’re focusing on one problem at a time, we’ll deal with that later.”

“What is the problem exactly?”

“Does Phantom mention Danny?” Sam repeated.

“No,” Jazz said forcefully, almost groaning the word. “Not very often, anyway. Mostly just when he saves him. He likes bragging about it. I think he gets some sort of ironic pleasure out of rescuing Danny because of their past. But otherwise, I guess their paths just don’t cross very often. Is that what you guys are getting at? You think they don’t hang out?”

“I never noticed them hanging out,” Tucker confirmed. “And Danny and I share everything! I would know if they were best buds.”

“Once they started talking, it was like they had just rediscovered an old friend,” Sam explained.

“So?”

“So they haven’t stopped talking.”

“So?”

“So it’s been six fucking hours!” Sam exclaimed.

“So?” Jazz repeated pointedly. “They have a lot to catch up on. They’ve been separate for, what? Two years?”

“So you’re saying…” Tucker and shared another glance with Sam, “six hours of nonstop talking, laughing, gossiping, and touching? That’s not weird at all?”

“Touching?”

“Danny keeps touching him,” Tucker whined. “He just won’t stop, it’s like he’s, he’s drawn to him or. Something. And Phantom keeps leaning into, like what? What the fuck?”

Jazz started laughing.

“It’s not funny!” Tucker and Sam shouted.

“Oh my gosh, you two are jealous!” Jazz cried, laughing still. “I can’t believe this!”

“I’m not jealous!” Tucker objected.

“This is serious, Jazz!” Sam yelled over Jazz’s laughter. “Your brothers are falling in love with each other!”

Jazz snorted a laugh and squeaked, “That’s why you guys keep pushing the brother angle, oh my, ohhh my sides…”

“Jazz!”

“It would be so much easier for you two if Danny and Phantom were actually like twins, wouldn’t it?” Jazz said, snorting still, her tone mockingly sympathetic. “Then you could just sweep all the discomfort under one easily labeled trash can and throw it out, huh?”

“What are you talking about?” Sam demanded.

“Forget it. I can see you two aren’t mature enough for that sort of introspection.”

“Hey!”

“What makes you think they’re falling in love?” Jazz asked. "One six-hour conversation during a long car ride doesn’t really mean anything, you know.”

“It’s the way they’re speaking to each other,” Tucker said, groaning. “I don’t think you understand, Jazz. And it wasn’t just during the car ride. It was at every rest stop, too. It was during dinner. It was in the backseat. It was everywhere! We arrived at the hotel two hours ago, and they’re still talking! They went swimming together, Jazz! Swimming!”

“Oh no,” Jazz said in mock horror, “Swimming! I hope they brought protection.”

Disgusted, Tucker shoved his phone into Sam’s hands. “You explain it to her!”

Sam groaned. She sat on the bed beside Tucker, but Tucker didn’t want to sit anymore. He stood and walked over toward the window, maneuvering around the bags Danny had yet to unpack. He had set them beside the bed he had chosen, the bed he and Phantom would share. It had seemed like the least awkward arrangement when they had been making plans. Sam would get her own room; the boys would get the room with two beds. Danny and Phantom were bi, so Tucker had been just a little bit shy about sharing his bed with either of them, and Sam definitely couldn’t without stirring up old flames, which meant the two who used to share a body would have to share a bed.

Easy.

Phantom would sleep with his human half. Danny could sleep beside his ghost half.

Easy.

Nothing would happen between them, right? Danny certainly hadn’t seemed all that uncomfortable with the idea. He had only shrugged. Phantom had only seemed grateful he was actually going to sleep in a bed at all. Danny had warned him not to hog the blankets, and Phantom had warned him not to snore.

But that had been at the start of their trip. Tucker wondered now if Danny would be so blasé about sleeping beside someone like Phantom. Dubious past aside, Phantom was the hottest heartthrob in their year group, as voted by the senior yearbook—and he hadn’t even been in the running! How was Danny’s gay little heart supposed to resist Phantom after they had spent all day acting like lovestruck fools?

Was Tucker going to have to wear earplugs just to drown out their whispering? Was he going to wake up and find them spooning?

He had hoped it would happen before, but that was just because he wanted to tease them! He hadn’t wanted it like this.

“They’re so focused on each other it’s like they’re the only two people in existence,” Sam complained to Jazz.

“I’m sure they haven’t forgotten about you and Tucker.”

“Yes, they have!” Sam snapped. “You’re not here, Jazz! Trust me. They wanted to be alone so bad they ran to the swimming pool just to get away from us.”

"Did they say you couldn’t come?”

“No…”

"Then they weren’t trying to get away from you. You could have gone too.”

“Yeah, well, no thanks, I don’t feel like throwing up. I can handle only so much lovey dovey shit in a single day.”

“You could try being supportive, you know.”

Sam snorted. “They don’t need any support.”

"They will once this dream is over and they have to return to reality.”

Tucker froze, his hand halfway toward the curtain. Behind him, he heard Sam suck in a breath. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“Have you two forgotten how hard same-sex couples have to fight to be accepted? Danny hid his attraction to guys for so long out of fear, do you really want to be the ones who make him feel ashamed again?”

“This is a little more extreme than having a crush on Kwan,” Sam objected, but her voice had softened.

"Yes, it’s going to be even harder because Phantom isn’t just another boy, he’s a famous hero, an infamous troublemaker, a mystery to all Amity Park! He is under intense scrutiny, and once he starts dating another boy, that scrutiny is going to turn on Danny. Danny won’t just be judged for dating someone of the same sex either, he will be judged for dating a ghost. What would have been accepted in a straight couple will suddenly look amoral between two boys in a biracial—bi-species?—relationship.”

“Oh no,” Sam said softly.

"The worst offenders will, of course, be Mom and Dad.”

“Shit,” Tucker added. He glanced over his shoulder at Sam, but she was staring blindly into the distance.

“If Danny is serious about pursuing Phantom, he will eventually tell Mom and Dad, and then he’ll be back in that uneasy position where he has no idea if our parents will kick him out because of his connection to Danny Phantom.”

“Would they?” Sam asked quietly.

"I don’t know,” Jazz answered honestly. "They’re paranoid. They might suspect Phantom of brainwashing Danny somehow. It’s easier to believe this is all Phantom’s fault than to accept Danny likes the infamous ghost boy. They might accept Danny’s choice, but it’s equally likely they’ll try to ‘fix’ him.”

Tucker drew in a sharp breath through his teeth.

"Danny delayed and altered this confrontation, but so long as he pursues a connection to Phantom, he’s always bound to circle back to seeking Mom and Dad’s acceptance. Don’t make him have to fight for yours as well.”

Tucker pushed a hand beneath his glasses and rubbed his fingers against his eye. He turned away from the window and pressed his back against the wall, suddenly feeling sick.

“But, Jazz,” Sam said, “Phantom is Danny’s ghost half. They can’t date. They’re the same person. This isn't like if Phantom started dating some random human, this is his human half."

“First of all, that was two years ago. In all that time, Phantom has been fighting, defending, training, and only occasionally relaxing. Danny has been living as a normal student trying to catch up on his grades so he could graduate high school after spending those first two years flunking nearly every class. If you believe they are still the same person after living such extremely different experiences, you haven’t been paying attention. People change. Growth is inescapable, especially for Phantom. He’s had to learn some tough lessons that Danny has never had to face, and they have affected him as a person.”

Sam’s eyes finally met Tucker’s. She was frowning, which alerted Tucker to his own. He was relieved to see she didn’t like hearing this anymore than he did.

"Secondly,” Jazz continued, "Danny has repeatedly stated Phantom was a ghost that fused with him during the accident, he's not his ghost. It might just be a matter of disassociation where Danny is trying to distance himself from a very stressful period of his life, but from what he and Phantom have told me, they truly believe the portal accident brought two souls together for a time.”

Sam made a soft “oh” sound.

"They may look similar to us, but their souls are not the same, according to them. It might just be all in their head, but it's what they believe. That might be why they’re able to look at each other as strangers and talk for six hours without getting bored.” She scoffed. "I have no idea how they could talk so long, but I never had a crush before either, so…”

“Oh?” Tucker said archly, gaining a little of his fire back. “Danny says otherwise.”

“Danny’s a filthy liar who needs to keep his mouth shut.”

“So, this really doesn’t bother you at all?” Sam asked, cutting off Tucker’s teasing retort.

"Not really. What other people do with their lives is their own business so long as they aren’t hurting anyone. It’s something you two will learn in college someday too. I tried so hard to fix peoples’ problems when I got here, and it was totally the wrong thing to do. I hurt my friends, and I exhausted and stressed myself out over things that were none of my business. There’s only one thing I care about now. Are they happy?”

Tucker and Sam shared another look. Tucker pushed himself up from the wall, turned toward the window, and pulled aside the curtain.

“Yeah,” Sam said. She still sat on the bed. She didn’t need to see Danny’s lovestruck expression. They had been seeing it nearly all day.

“And you’re sure they’re falling for each other? It might just be friendship.”

Three stories down, Tucker saw Danny and Phantom in the pool. Or rather, he saw Danny in the pool. Phantom sat on the edge, his bare legs lazily kicking the water. Danny’s body drifted chest-deep in the water, his arms folded over the ledge, cushioning his cheek as he stared up at Phantom. It looked like Phantom was talking about something—flying maybe, given the smooth glide of his hand gestures—and Danny was just watching him.

Watching him with a little smile, a soft glow in his eyes completely unlike the kind that used to be there when he and Phantom were one.

“No way,” Tucker said. “I haven’t seen Danny look at someone like that since—” Tucker cut himself off and guiltily looked at Sam.

She sighed. “Danny has that dopey expression whenever he looks at Phantom now. You know the one.”

“Kind of strange since they don’t look that different,” Tucker said. “How can Danny be attracted to someone that looks so much like him?”

“Actually, that’s very common! You might notice couples often look alike, and this is believed to be caused by something called ‘positive sexual imprinting.’ It isn’t the only determining factor, of course, but scientists and psychologists have long studied why we—and other animals—are more attracted to mates who share physical—”

“Yeah!” Tucker interrupted. “Danny can just develop a crush on himself because humans are strange! Got it!”

"If you don’t believe me, google ‘couples that look alike.’ You’re touching on a huge academic topic here. Maybe I should make a paper about this…it's probably why Danny was attracted to Sam. You two look alike too. Remember that rumor about you two being twins?”

Sam grimaced. "That's not the same thing."

“Isn't it? I’ll repeat, Danny and Phantom aren’t brothers. Just because you two see them as brothers doesn’t mean they feel the same way. If you can’t let go of your preconceived notions and listen to what Danny says, you aren’t any better than my parents.”

Tucker grimaced. “That’s not fair…”

“Neither is forcing my brother to accept your views at the cost of his happiness!” Jazz snapped. “Danny loves you two. You are just as capable of hurting him as our parents. Knock it off. You knew all of this already. You two are just trying to justify how upset you are by shifting the blame onto Danny and Phantom. That way you don’t have to confront what’s really making you two upset.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam said hotly. “And what’s that, Doctor Jazz?”

“You and Tucker are leaving Amity Park to attend your dream colleges,” Jazz said, gentling her tone. “But Danny is staying behind. Your childhood where the three of you fought ghosts together is over. After Danny and Phantom separated, you still clung to this idea that he and Phantom were still somehow the same, because that’s how everything started. But now that they’re falling for each other you can’t hold onto that belief anymore. This is the end of that chapter, and the beginning of something new, something you two won’t be a part of. That’s why you’re upset. That’s why you want them to stop.”

Tucker made a low noise and stared down at Danny and Phantom.

“You’re getting a little too good at that phsycobabble stuff,” Sam said quietly.

“Please, I should have let you two discover it on your own if I really wanted it to stick. But Danny and Phantom don’t have that kind of time. If they actually fall in love on this trip—or even if they just get closer —that will be good for them. Phantom needs that human connection, and Danny will need someone after you two leave for the semester.”

“Why doesn’t Danny just leave with us?” Tucker asked, subdued. “He doesn’t have to stay in Amity Park anymore.”

“He said he didn’t feel right leaving Phantom to deal with the ghosts on his own.”

“Really?” Tucker perked up a little. “So maybe this thing isn’t actually all that new.”

“Nope.”

“You said they never mentioned each other,” Sam accused.

“I said Phantom rarely mentioned Danny. Danny talks about Phantom’s all the time. I suspected something like this might happen. It seems even Danny isn’t immune to Phantom’s heroics, but I could never be sure if it was just admiration or…admiration, you know? What about Phantom?”

“What about him?”

“Do you think he feels the same way?”

“Yes,” Sam answered promptly. “Without a doubt.”

Tucker groaned. “If he ever took his eyes off Danny, it was only because he was driving. It was his idea to go swimming…”

“Oh, the dreaded swimming. All that bare skin. How scandalous.”

“Shut up, Jazz.”

“Are they still in the pool?” Sam asked warily.

Tucker hummed, watching as Danny pushed away from the edge. Phantom slid into the water so gracefully he had to be using his flight powers. They were still talking. They were still focused entirely on each other. The underwater lamps rendered Phantom’s glow obsolete, and for a moment he didn’t look any different from a human aside from his white hair. He dove under the water, and a second later, Danny was yanked under with him.

“They were just talking, but it looks like they’re playing now,” Tucker said.

“Are you two watching them?”

“Noooo,” Tucker and Sam said in unison.

“You two are impossible.”

“Shut up, Jazz,” Sam said loftily, “our friend is falling in love here. These are trying circumstances.”

“Yeah, yeah. Give them privacy, you stalkers.”

Tucker made a rude noise. Danny and Phantom finally broke the surface, both of them panting. Danny’s face was red, but he was laughing. He splashed Phantom, and Phantom splashed him back. They did that a few more times, and then Danny threw himself at Phantom, and they went under again.

“They really do look happy,” Tucker said quietly.

“Just let them do their own thing,” Jazz suggested. “Neither one of them has had a serious relationship in a while. I doubt they’ll be able to think clearly if they are infatuated. Just give it time. They’ll calm down. Eventually. You have all summer, right?”

Sam groaned. “Don’t remind me…”

“All summer to watch our friend fall in love with a super powered hero and forget about us,” Tucker said. “Fun.”

“Maybe we should crash their little pool date,” Sam said thoughtfully.

“Oh!” Tucker let the curtain fall closed and turned around to face her, his eyes bright. “Now that sounds fun! I’m going to cannonball right between them!”

Sam flashed him a wicked grin.

Jazz groaned through the speaker. “Why do I even bother…?”

“Thanks for your help, Jazz,” Sam said, lifting the phone. “But we need to breakup their romantic night now. Bye.”

“Bye. Tell Danny I love him. Oh, and, if it comes up at any point in this trip, remind them to practice safe sex or I will personally come down there and give them a lecture they’ll never forget.”

“That’s so won’t be necessary with the two of us on duty, right, buddy?” Tucker said, grinning at Sam.

She cackled. “You bet!”

“Uh-huh,” Jazz said, unconvinced. “You two will keep two hormonal teenagers from doing anything when one of them has ghost powers? I bet you twenty dollars you’ll catch them making out in the backseat at some point.”

“First of all, that’s my car and they better fucking not,” Sam said. “Secondly, you’re on. We got this, right, Tuck?”

“Right!” Tucker said, pumping his fist. “There will be no falling in love on my watch!”

“You can probably stop them from kissing, but you can’t stop them from falling in love.”

“Ha!” Sam scoffed.

“Watch us!” Tucker shouted.

“That’s—you know what, never mind. Have fun. Don’t get yourselves killed.”

Sam and Tucker laughed. “Bye, Jazz!”

Sam ended the call, and Tucker pounded his fist into his palm. “Let’s do this!”

[ryuichirou]

Hi ! First of all I wanna say I'm a huge fan of your drawings, your artstyle is so pretty !! Idia is one of my favs and I loooove how you draw him like he just looks so squishable /very pos. Then my question would be : have you played through chapter 6 yet ? If not, do you have any theories about what is going to happen ? And if yes, do you have any thoughts to share about it ?? I'm super curious to hear your opinion !!

Hello hello! I’m very sorry for replying to you so late, but we were in the middle of watching chapter 6 and decided to postpone our reply until we’re done, so I can share our thoughts properly (Sorry, this is going to be a monster of a reply, I’m going to talk a lot…). Hope all this was worth the wait!

Well, first of all, thank you so much for your kind words! I’m very happy that you like my artstyle and especially how I draw Idia, it means a lot. <3

Sooo, chapter 6.

To be completely honest, we went into twst already knowing about what happens in it, because our friend (who was playing through it at that moment) told us about Idia’s overblot and his and Ortho’s story. We were already interested in Idia by that point, which is why we were very curious about his arc, and I think it’s fair to say that this was the exact point we’d decided that we’re definitely going to check twst out. It just felt like it was filled with characters and tropes that we would really enjoy, and boy was it a correct hunch. That being said, the fact that we had already known the story didn’t ruin the emotional impact at all, we felt completely wrecked by ch6 lol

This post is possibly going to turn into me screaming about how much I love both Idia and Ortho, so I’m sorry in advance, but.

I really love Idia. This is going to sound weird, but I love how completely miserable he is and how you can see his suffering even when he’s giggling (oh how nice it was to hear his voice all the time lol) or messing with others. I think he is very well-written in this regard: he is clearly depressed, clearly very traumatized, clearly has a hard time dealing with what happened to him and the original Ortho (I mean the real one, but you know), but just… manages, somehow? It’s like he’s constantly playing the game of “for how long can I be in denial before I inevitably remember what I’ve done to my own brother and that this Ortho isn’t the real Ortho”. Except he never actually forgets about it, the realization is always in the back of his mind, because Idia can’t even allow himself to fully fall into denial; he always needs to remember what he did. It’s cool that Ortho-AI knows about what happened to the original Ortho too, even though Idia could have easily make him unaware, just so that they could pretend nothing has ever happened.

On a lighter note, when you take a character like this, with all his baggage, quirks and difficulties in basic human communication, and put him in a central role of a boss figure, who also has to talk to all the main cast and deal with their bullshit (seriously, just sign the NDA already, you problem children!), it ends up being quite amusing. Idia really tried his best to act like a boss, but was constantly bullied by others lol I also really love the contrast between uninterested Idia who just wants everything to be over already and enthusiastic Idia, who gets quite spunky and talkative once the topic shifts to stuff that he’s interested in. I love how Azul complained about Idia ranting his ears off all the time in the board games club, this is such an important and fun detail of his character: he is quiet, but actually enjoys talking when he’s passionate about the topic, and I think the chapter portrayed it perfectly. The entire segment in which the cast got to play random games and talked was really nice, but maybe it’s just me being soft for everyone involved in it lol

And I really love Ortho. In fact, I didn’t think I would love him as much as I do now, but he is quite enjoyable and more nuanced of a character than I anticipated him to be. It’s very easy for this character type to be simply “a cute android guy”, but the sheer power of his love towards Idia is wow. I find it interesting that while Idia did program him to act like the original Ortho, I don’t think he could’ve put so much love and care towards him (Idia) into his script. It was something that Ortho ended up feeling all by himself, by being with Idia for so long, taking care of him and noticing what makes him happy and what makes him miserable. The fact that he basically came to the conclusion that he didn’t want Idia to be miserable anymore, so he would rather destroy the world and rebuild it in a way that would make him happy is absolutely beautiful. We do have a soft spot for a trope in which AI gets attached to a person (in a not necessarily healthy way), and I am biased when it comes to that sentiment for personal reasons, but I also think it was a very nice plot point. Especially considering the fact that it were Rook and Vil who kind of inspired Ortho to stop feeling useless and actually go and do something, stop being a zero and all, like damn what a crossover lol a local couple of wise gay men accidentally inspired an AI boi to start an apocalypse.

The flashback… oof.  It was very beautiful and traumatizing (hey my favourite combo). I think I can talk about it all day, but I’ll just note that the voice acting in this particular part was awesome: I still get goosebumps when I think about that moment when teenage Idia suddenly starts crying after sounding so excited and smug and happy because he just finished the first version of his robo-Ortho. Because even though he did succeed, it didn’t fix anything: Ortho was still dead, his invention looked and sounded like Ortho but it would never be able to change the past. Ghhhh despair.

The design of Idia’s overblot was also great, I really loved that this time it was kind of like a double boss? Because the phantom wasn’t just a random, well, phantom, it was Ortho + the entire Underworld, and it was unusual and fun listening to their dialogues and stuff.

One of other very good things this book does is how it showcases other characters and their struggles. Exploring characters from a previous book in the current one is something that twst does every time, so we anticipated learning more about Pomefiore (and boy was that a ride), but we also got some good insight about Azul and Riddle and even Jamil a little bit (not much about Leona, but that’s Leona for you). And I can see how watching 3 sets of characters basically complete the same task over and over again could be quite tiring, but (maybe because we watched the walkthrough instead of playing the game) I personally didn’t mind it as much simply because the character aspect of it was entertaining enough. For the most part.

I really enjoyed Azul’s and Riddle’s scenes because of how similar yet completely different these two are: both are hard-working, grinding for good grades, having a lot of ambitions, but so very different in how they were raised and how they ended up navigating their lives. It was kind of surprising, considering that their chapters were pretty much the first ones and we haven’t seen them in a while, but it’s not like they’re completely healed from their issues: Azul still has a huge complex about being underestimated; Riddle still has a hard time breaking some arbitrary rules that don’t even mean much in a crisis. An unexpected, but a very nicely put together duo.

I won’t share all of my thoughts about Pomefiore because otherwise we’ll be here all day (and I’m already tired…), but what I’ll say is that it was great to see how strong their bond is, and that Rook and Vil’s relationships are very beautifully written. Please, someone, ask me about them, so I could rant about this too… orz I love Pomefiore so much… Vil’s and Idia’s interactions too…

So yeah, the chapter also ended on a very nice note, at least for the Shrouds. With other guys, when their arcs end, there is always this feeling of “oof better get everything back to normal”, but with these two it feels like an exciting new chapter of life for them, like everything is going to change somehow, but not drastically and uncomfortably. I don’t know if I explained it well but… Idia got his closure and got to say goodbye to Ortho properly; but he is still a socially inept otaku shut-in, he is still going to play an unhealthy amount of videogames, and he is still dependant on his robot-brother. But Ortho is now a person with an untouchable/unchangeable mindset, who chose to be with Idia and protect him himself. Also, other students got to know Idia and understand him a tiny little bit better, and honestly I feel like this is something that Ortho wanted the most.

Overall it was a solid chapter (I keep calling it both a chapter and a book, it’s confusing…) and I loved it. As you can see lol

[seraphtrevs]

I’ve been thinking lately and why is it that mental health is so important in BCS/BrBa but fandom very rarely talks about it? Like obviously on the other side you get woobifying and that’s annoying, but I mean the lack of sympathy for Jane and Jesse and especially Andrea for being addicts, the fact that ptsd (and refusing to deal) is so integral to becoming Saul but instead you get bullshit about Jimmy being aspd, the black and white regarding Chuck. Idk! It’s done so well yet…

I've curated my dash so that I only see BrBa/BCS takes from my perfect mutuals on tumblr (and I don't go on twitter at all), so I can't really say for sure what's going on with the fandom at large

But if I had to guess, maybe it's a couple things: 1) BrBa/BCS characters are extremely nuanced. The depiction of mental illness in media often tends toward stereotype - there are certain ways a character with depression or anxiety or PTSD or schizophrenia behaves that code them as depressed/anxious/traumatized/schizophrenic so that the audience immediately recognizes the character as very obviously suffering from a specific mental illness This isn't true of any of the characters of the gilliverse, even the ones who we're explicitly told are struggling with their mental health and being treated for it, like Chuck, Marie, and Howard. Chuck is delusional, but he doesn't act the way characters who are written as delusional usually do. Marie is neurotic, but we don't get any easy-to-digest reason for her kleptomania. We see Howard struggle with depression, but if you asked the average viewer what their impression of Howard was, they aren't likely to say "Oh, he was that character who was Struggling With Depression."

Most of these characters have very poor mental health, but it's not easy to talk about because the portrayal is subtle, not blunt

2) A lot of talk about the mental health of characters unfortunately revolves around blame. Pointing out a character might be suffering from mental illness is not the same as absolving them from blame, but some people act as though it is, which can be used to both defend and attack characters. So you get woobifiying with a mental illness diagnosis, but you also get people saying a character could not possibly be suffering from [x] because that would make them sympathetic, so clearly their actions came from sheer evil with no context and any suggestion otherwise is just making excuses for them

For example, both Jimmy and Kim were showing signs of PTSD after his trip to the desert. The Howard plot was hatched as a deranged defense mechanism - they both felt very out of control and this was a way to make them feel powerful. It's not absolving them of blame to point out they were suffering from PTSD. Their PTSD did not force them to frame their former boss. But on the other hand, it does provide context to their actions that make them more understandable.

Which again, is not the same thing as saying the Howard plot was excusable. It's just pointing out that bad mental health played a role in their disastrous decisions. I'm not really interested in assigning blame or deciding which characters are/aren't deserving of sympathy. I'm much more interested in understanding why a character made a certain choice, and I have sympathy for all of them

[mermazeablaze]

So I went to my gyno visit today at the Indian Clinic. I have been having issues hemorrhaging during my periods, off & on since 2013 (23yrs old, now 33). I already have children & my tubes are tied. I want a hysterectomy. My gyno is refusing.

Some Backstory:

A male gyno specialist (2013) refused hysterectomy & kept saying, "Tubals can be reversed. You might want more children. Hysterectomies are permanent."

I have three children & due to a hereditary disorder anesthesia increases my chances of seizures. I almost DIED during my last child's birth, C-section including tubal **AND** sedated.

When I told him I was firm on not having anymore biological children because of that. He kept pushing for 'uterine/endometrial ablation'. Which is where they burn off your uterine lining to pause your periods or can do it enough where you don't have another period. I told him no & sought a second opinion.

My second opinion was a female gyno who tested my hormone levels, ultrasounds, MRI &EKGs even to rule out pregnancy &/or hormone imbalance. Everything came back fine. Yet I was still hemorrhaging.

Female gyno insinuated I was either exaggerating or lying about the bleeding. So I saved a day's worth of saturated feminine products & brought them to her. She was grossed out, but realized I was telling the truth.

Female gyno placed me on Seasonique. A birth control pill which gives you four periods a year, to see if it would help regulate the bleeding. It did for almost a year, by then 2014. But it started giving me intense depression & irrational thoughts.

Female gyno told me to stop taking it & wait a month before trying something else.

During that time my right arm not my left would tingle off & on. I would get woozy & nauseous. Cold sweats & feel clammy. One night all of those symptoms descended upon me except with the addition of my heart racing. Not hurting just racing. & my body was screaming something wasn't right. It's one of the few times I can consciously say I knew I could be dying. It was scary.

I went to the ER & after testing I was having a cardiac event from a blood clot forcing itself through my heart. My white blood cell count was almost FOUR TIMES the amount a person usually has during a heart attack.

I was in the hospital for a little over a week, angiogram & making sure another blood clot didn't develop. They believe the Seasonique was the cause.

Since then I've just been suffering with the sporadic hemorrhaging since then. Which is now including debilitating & excruciating pain.

Which is why I went to the gyno today, different from the previous two. Only to be told that she wasn't going to give me an updated hormone screening, ultrasound, MRI, etc. She offered me ablation or birth control.

I told her I don't see the point in ablation. It has so many horrendous possible side effects, including hemorrhaging! Plus, she would want to do the type of ablation where it rids you of a period. But a hysterectomy does the same fucking thing.

& I'm not taking birth control. Not gonna to risk either exacerbating my depression or another heart attack.

She was trying to say: But you'll need hormones after a hysterectomy!

Me: & birth control isn't hormones?!

& that I want a second opinion on the hysterectomy. I am 33, my mind has been made up since I was 23, I have kids, I have a tubal & I'm basically praying for menopause the past five years. So I don't have to keep dealing with this bullshit.

She put in a referral for the second opinion & didn't bother to talk to me about pain management. She was too busy feeling butthurt that I know what I want & need & she couldn't give me a good enough reason why aside from, "Because!"

Sidenote: When I get my hysterectomy & I will. I want a shirt made that says:

"Ask me why I'm no longer hysterical, I'm just hilarious now."

[enbycrip]

Yesterday I posted in a Facebook thread about “your opinion is less valuable if you’re not an expert” essentially with “yes, but with the caveat that this is much more complex with direct personal experience - notably there is a big issue with doctors, especially GPs, treating women and women-read people as unreliable witnesses to their own symptoms throughout the history of medicine which still continues today” and noted that my GP had initially told me repeatedly that my fucking sublaxions were somatic depression”.

I got a three-reply screed from someone claiming to be a nurse who said a) it’s my fault for going to a GP, not a specialist b) why am I complaining on the internet instead of “taking responsibility for my own health”? c) she disregards patients who talk about their health on the internet d) it’s the fault of people like me if the entire medical system collapses e) “your GP will still do better diagnosing other things than you do”.

And obviously I replied pointing out the truly massive unfounded assumptions she made about me, her clear lack of understanding of the U.K. medical system, and her huge logical fallacies, but honestly the gut punch yet again at yet *another* confirmation of the systemic disdain and defensiveness disabled and chronically ill people are dealing with from healthcare workers has left me feeling absolutely floored.

This was a level and detached a remark about “historically there has been a serious issue with how systemically marginalised people are treated where personal experiences are concerned, particularly in healthcare, and this still persists to this day - a notable intersection is the ongoing higher mortality rate of black women in childbirth” and the result was this vicious personal attack full of incredibly baseless assumptions.

I am genuinely sorry to load any decent healthcare workers reading this with anything else given the level of bullshit you have to deal with from our political class, but yet again I need to ask you to challenge this behaviour in your colleagues wherever you see it. Including in private spaces which patients will never see.

Because this online attack mirrors so many of my personal experiences in trying to get really quite basic healthcare. Worse yet, I *know* those experiences were serious factors in killing disabled friends and acquaintances, and I know other people who are going to suffer life-altering ongoing health effects due to them.

[featherfur]

i was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder a few years ago, it took them forever to diagnose me just bc of how hard it is to pin down, and i didn't get my official diagnosis until i was 27. i've been diagnosed with autism and adhd previously in earlier years, so i was already familiar with neurodivergent communities, and it was really kind of fucked up to come back after getting my bpd diagnosis and seeing people treat it like it was something else entirely. i've had people trying to tell me that bpd doesn't count as neurodivergence because "it's a personality disorder, not a mental disorder" like the two aren't intrinsically intertwined?? also dealing with people who i had previously known for several years suddenly start holding me at arm's length because i was a "ticking time bomb" or some sort of monster who would either split and explode on them, or god forbid, start obsessing over them.

it really just sort of blew my mind just how ableist DN communities can be when it comes down to conditions that aren't just autism, adhd, depression, or anxiety.

No this is it exactly. This is why I went on that little rant on that post.

I’m autistic, I’ve always been aware of it so I was in different community groups ones labeled just generic ND communities and a lot of autistic ones.

I’m also bipolar. I wasn’t diagnosed until I was 22 but the near minute I was and told people about it, it was like I had secretly been hiding that I was a monster the whole time. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, here to make the rest of the community look bad. I’m not allowed to talk about suffering from psychosis without the people who were just hollering about accepting ND ppl especially people with Autism and ADHD who have a hard time, suddenly turning on me and treating me like lesser.

I can’t talk about experiencing psychosis without being told I’m scaring people or I make them uncomfortable. I can’t talk about intrusive thoughts, and I mean the most disgusting vile intrusive thoughts possible, without being told that IM a bad disgusting monster. I’m barely a person to them if I tell more of myself then just what’s palatable to them.

I can’t say I’m bipolar and not hear people go ‘lol I have mood swings too’ or ‘yeah I’m ADHD emotions are just everywhere’ (that happens more then you think…). Bipolar has to be kooky giggle town mood swings that’s a joke. It’s not allowed to be mania not sleeping for days on end and being on the high end of every forsaken emotion possible, it’s not allowed to be broken moments trying to suppress every urge to claw your eyes out. It’s not allowed to be hallucinations because you can’t sleep and you’re all over the place and then you crash and can’t eat or move or think when the depression hits.

I can’t talk to people who are part of these communities without first vetting how they treat someone who isn’t part of the ‘good’ Neurodivergent folk. Because they’ll treat you like a monster, because they repeat the same ableist bullshit that’s thrown at them.

Because they want to be part of the ‘normal’ group and want to expel the ‘freaks’ as if we’re not all under that ND umbrella.

The communities are terrifyingly self-othering.

Neurodivergent has become a short form of Autism/ADHD/Depression/Anxiety. But only the ‘good’ forms. If you’re too autistic to communicate ‘properly’ (that’s sarcasm), then you’re gross and need to leave. If you’re so depressed that your teeth rot then you did it to yourself and didn’t those posts on the internet tell you how important it is to brush? If you have generalized anxiety and are terrified to leave your home then you need to do better, you’re not ND unless you have the cutesy shy anxiety.

Every “neurodivergent experience” post is very… what’s the word… separating? That’s not quite it but it’s late lmao. But every time I see those posts it feels like another gap because I, as a bipolar person, do not and probably will not ever experience those! There are somethings I do, I am autistic, and I understand the ADHD hyperactivity when I have a hypomanic episode, but most of them?

I don’t. And I can only imagine it’s more hurtful and upsetting to those who don’t have those main four but are still ND. Like those with Cerebral Palsy or OCD nor Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

As someone who has dealt with intrusive thoughts and felt scared from the way people in my own community mock it and say it’s disgusting if it’s used to describe what it actually means, I can only imagine how folk w BPD and OCD and Schizophrenia feel when those are the exact words used to be violently insulted.

The ND community is thick with ableism and hate towards anyone who isn’t palatable to the rest of the world, and they keep choosing the side of the ones who want us gone so they can be accepted instead of realizing that every ableist (and it’s culturally taught, it’s not always an intentional action) also thinks shitty of them and want you and any sign of neurodivergence eradicated.

If they didn’t then Autism Speaks wouldn’t be so damn rich and open about wanting to get rid of us. The average person wouldn’t be so vile towards ADHD people wanting medication. They wouldn’t claim if you take medication that you’re addicted and not trying, and we all know how they fucking hate addicts.

A lot of the most proud ND communities aren’t safe for anyone who isn’t the ‘good’ kind of Neurodivergent. It’s terrifying and gross, and a lot more fellow ND folk need to think about how they’re treating the rest of us.

You don’t get a pass on ableism because your card has an ND stamp on it.