#but that’s a constant feeling regardless of the episode

[city-m0rgue]

“angel doesn’t need a relationship, he needs a friend !”

some people are complaining about the fact that Husk said that Angel was correct in saying his life was wrecked. these people don’t have brains.

all angel has been told is to be okay. he needed somebody to tel him that they see that he’s not okay because he clearly struggles with his own feelings and identifying them on his own.

by saying that he knows Angel isn’t okay, Husk essentially brings Angel back down to earth. when somebody with as much trauma and as many mental issues as Angel is experiencing, especially with that episode / crisis he was having at the time of the song, they would need somebody to tell them that they are seen, that they aren’t crazy. they need to know that’s it’s okay to not be okay.

not to mention the fact that husk clearly needed it too, as he’s essentially shut himself off from all emotion and pushed away anybody in fear of getting hurt. he’s accepted that he’ll be at a constant low, and he needed to feel like there were others there with him, that he was seen as well.

when all they’re told is that they’re okay it feels like dismissal. it feels like belittlement. but when they’re told that they are seen and accepted regardless or their issues , it feels like relief.

to Angel , it feels like he isn’t required to keep up his fake persona. he’s not required to advertise the porn star lifestyle. he’s able to be Anthony. he’s not forced to be anybody but his true , authentic self and he doesn’t need to apologize for it.

he’s been trapped in a world where he needs to be okay constantly. he’s not allowed to let his guard down or he’ll get hurt. he’s not allowed to be in pain.

to Husk , it feels like someone finally understands his struggles. his pains. his addiction , his complications with selling his soul. he feels like he is finally not alone. not to mention the relief he most likely felt after seeing who Anthony truly was. his boundaries are no longer being ignored. he’s able to have insight into his life and see the similarities between himself and Anthony.

they understand each other on a level that others don’t. and even if others understand it , whether it be Charlie seeing their pain or addiction from the outside , or Cherri experiencing addiction and unhealthy coping mechanisms first hand , they aren’t able to have a heart to heart.

Charlie can’t because she hasn’t experienced it.

Cherri isn’t ready to give up the life because it is all that she knows. she hasn’t accepted that she needs to get better , therefore she can’t exactly help Angel cope

Husk has both experienced it and knows how to cope due to lots of self reflection , not to mention seeing others in states of vulnerability.

they’re unapologetically able to be themselves in a safe environment. that’s the whole point of the song , and if you can’t see that , that’s on you.

#hazbin hotel #vivziepop #angel dust #hazbin angel dust #blake roman #keith david #huskerdust #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husker #husk x angel dust #loser baby #your honor they are in love #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar

[thebookishwallflower]

THIS PODCAST WILL KILL YOU COVERED ME/CFS!!!!

#tpwky #this podcast will kill you #me/cfs #cfs #karina has infected me i’m listening to this episode and in my head it’s a constant ‘just like me fr’ #and then the immediate response is just ‘this is not how you handle a very important thing that impacts your life’ #but it keeps happening regardless #my only other response is mood #which is no better #anyway love tpwky eps where i can see myself in everything they’re talking abt #i always feel so seen and it’s wonderful

[rottenrosethorns]

Promise | Part Two

Pairing: RE4!Leon S. Kennedy x co-worker!fwb!afab!Reader

Genre: Friends with Benefits AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut 

Synopsis: It’s been days since Leon left, the last you heard from him being rumors about the mission. Over the span of those days without him, you start to realize how much you craved Leon’s comfort beyond physical. But, why is he suddenly acting so distant? 

Word Count: 9.2K

Warnings: 18+ SEXUAL CONTENT MINORS DNI; mild slow burn?, allusions towards depressive episode, crying, slight depictions of blood and gore, Y/N used once, reader smokes cigarette, reader consumes alcohol, switch!reader x dom!Leon, slight humiliation (reader receiving), slight overstimulation (reader receiving), pet names (love, baby, beautiful), fingering (reader receiving), rough fucking, oral sex (reader receiving), spanking (reader receiving), choking (reader receiving), oil massage (reader receiving), manhandling (reader receiving),mutual aftercare, swearing

A/N: ITS FINALLY HERE!!! A huge, huge thank you for everyone's love for Promise pt. 1. I really hope everyone enjoys the second part. I appreciate everyone’s patience and apologize for taking so long to finish this. I cannot tell you how many times I reconstructed the plot lol 

Taglist: @navreads @navstuffs (sry i couldn't tag your side blog)

__________

- masterlist -

- part one -

__________

You don’t remember the last time you slept. Well, of course you slept, every human needs sleep to recover. Maybe you should say that you couldn’t remember the last time you fully recovered. Regardless, all you knew was that feeling of uneasiness whirling in the pits of your stomach. 

Ever since Leon left for the mission, you couldn’t help but worry. The constant feeling of fear consumed your thoughts 24/7 as you daydreamed about what horrors Leon could be facing and whether or not he had the skill and luck to survive. The devil that people call “the little voice in my head” tormented you with narrative images of Leon’s death. Some scenarios were soaked with gushing blood, some were infected with whatever mutated virus, and some – the one you deemed the worst out of all – was simply a missing person, no body to be found whatsoever. 

You spent your mornings in bed, laying there for what felt like hours only to fight off the grogginess with some cheap coffee or energy drink before heading to work at the very last second possible without being considered tardy. Normally, you were a very diligent worker, investigating virus cases or testing for possible antidotes. But these days with your mind clouded with Leon’s absence, you often caught yourself stumbling over work. Your supervisor scolded you for simple mistakes, ones that you would’ve never made before. You were slow and sloppy, and Leon was all to blame. 

If you thought your performance at work was bad, your personal life was even worse. Once work was over, you’d go home, maybe make a sorry excuse for a meal, watch an episode or two of whatever show you had queued, and get ready for bed. When you entered your apartment, you’d think of when Leon would push you towards the closest wall, pining you with his hips as he grinded his restricted erection into your hip bone. When you cooked, you’d think of when Leon slid his hands down from your waist to pick you up and trap you on your granite countertops. When you ate, you’d think of when Leon bent you over and railed into you from behind over your kitchen table. 

Fuck. 

You’d hope some TV would ease your mind, but the audio quickly became white noise as your thoughts drifted towards Leon. On a day where you were feeling particularly lonely, you closed your eyes and layed yourself in bed with your hand creeping under the waistband of your pants. You sighed in relief, reaching the spot which craved your attention. With your imagination, you pictured Leon in front of you. His eyes watched as you did your best to satisfy yourself. You listened to his ghost-like whispers as he guided where to put your fingers and how much or little to apply pressure. With your fingers, you tried your best to follow his silent commands, doing your best to imitate his technique. For an hour, you remained like that, pushing and hoping to reach a climax, but even imitation could never compare to the real thing. Nothing could compare to Leon. So, you found yourself cleaning up, although barely lubricated and heading to bed to ignore the pitiful aching between your legs. 

You didn’t know when – if – Leon was coming back, all you knew was that somehow, this became routine for you. 

“Hello?? Hello???” Poppy waved a hand in your face, “Earth to agent? What’s got you so distracted?”

Startled, you jumped back, not realizing that you’d been staring blankly at your laptop screen for some while. You cleared your throat, finding the almost empty cup of whatever drink left behind and chugging it, “Shit, sorry. Need something?”

Poppy looked at you with concern, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, “I do. I need to know what’s up with you. Are you okay? You’ve been totally out of it these days.”

“I’m fine,” You touched her hand, grateful for her concern, “Just tired.”

“Trouble sleeping? I don’t want to be mean, but those eye bags are killer. Not the good kind.”

Rubbing your eyes, you sighed with the weight of last night’s lack of sleep on your shoulders, “Yeah, something like that.”

“You know I care for you, right?” Poppy softly smiled, “And, that you can tell me anything, and I mean anything, if you need to.” 

You nodded, reciprocating her smile, genuinely thankful for her friendship. Although you weren’t ready to share your experience, you were glad to know that you had someone to go to if you ever felt particularly sentimental, “I know, thank you. Just got some stuff on my mind, but I promise I’m okay.” 

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself back into work mode, “Did you still need something or just come to visit?”

Only then, you noticed the collection of papers in Poppy’s hands as she gave them to you. Looking through them, your heart leapt to your throat as you instantly recognized Leon’s handwriting on the mission reports. Stunned, you felt like all of time ceased around you as a loud buzzing sound pierced your ears. It was only until Poppy’s soft voice pulled you back into reality, “He’s in the infirmary, the doctors are watching him for any signs of Las Plagas just in case Luis’s laboratory was faulty. We’re supposed to go see him and run some tests as well.” 

You were out the door quicker than Poppy could finish, leaving her to trail behind you as you rushed towards the infirmary. You could hear Poppy shouting for you to slow down and wait for her, but your mind was racing with Leon and the need to just see him. You heard a soft crunch, looking down to notice that the reports had been crumpled by your death grip. You felt light headed, out of breath with anxiety, almost like your heart was about to burst through your ribcage. Turning towards Poppy, who just caught up to you, you pleaded, “Which room is he in?”

“The one on the left.”

In your mind, you wanted to dash towards his room, slam the door open, and jump into his arms; however, your legs felt like jelly, each step slower than the previous as you paced to a standstill just in front of the closed door with your hand frozen on the handle. From the little window in the door, you saw Leon laying on the bed, draped in a hospital gown and tucked underneath the thin, white top sheet. Next to him, his bloodied uniform folded in a sealed bag, waiting to be sent off to forensics. With your free hand, you covered your mouth as tears silently ran down your face. The sight before you was freighting, nothing like any type of fear you felt before. Leon, bruised and battered, became your worst nightmare. The image of his dormant figure etching into your memory forever. 

“Is he…” You gulped, swallowing down the lump in your throat before taking a shaky breath. It didn’t matter as you couldn’t bear to finish your sentence. 

Poppy grabbed your hand, the one that’d been resting on the door handle and pulled you to face her. She cooed at you to take deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling with you. You hadn’t realized you were starting to hyperventilate. Once the heavy pressure on your chest dissipated, Poppy spoke, “He’s okay, just sleeping. His body is recovering from the lack of food and sleep. The doctors are closely monitoring him, and we’re waiting for his results.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and thanked whatever higher being for protecting Leon. As much as you wanted to look back at Leon, you were scared to see him in such condition again. This isn’t the first time you’ve seen him return from a mission, but this was definitely the first time you’ve seen him return so beaten up and in a hospital bed. 

A tight hug from Poppy pulled you from your thoughts. You’d meant to ask what she was doing, but her warm embrace reminded you of your lack of social interaction and sent you into another fit of tears. Your lips trembled as you buried your face into her shoulder and graciously accepted her embrace. You mumbled as coherently as you could about how scared you were, how worried you were, and how lonely you’d been without him. Unknowingly, you’d just confess your feelings for Leon. 

Poppy consoled you, bringing up a hand to pat the back of your head and caringly brushing your hair, “You haven’t told him?”

You shook your head, “I don’t think I realized until now.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t.”

You pulled back, confused, “What do you mean?”

“Everyone can tell that you two have chemistry,” Poppy laughed to ease the tense atmosphere, “Sorry to say, but you two aren’t so good at hiding your not-so-secret glances at each other.” 

You sniffed, wiping your nose with the back of your hand as you blushed, “Damn, I didn’t think it was that bad.” 

“It wasn’t, you just confirmed it for me,” Poppy snickered as you scowled. She rejoiced with an empathetic look in her eyes, “You know you should tell Leon how you feel. We almost lost him this time, you might not get to say how you feel about him.” 

You pressed your lips together, hesitating before speaking, “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Getting rejected?”

“And, how would you know that? We’ve seen the way he treats you, you both go home after work together, what else do you need?” Poppy reasoned, “How could he say no to you?”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Your voice came out as a hushed whisper, as you looked towards the floor and found the patterns on the tiles more interesting than your answer. 

Poppy looked over at Leon’s sleeping body, “You can practice when he’s not listening, and then, when you’re ready, you can tell him how you feel without being scared.”

You followed Poppy’s eyes, once again landing on Leon’s body. Internally, you debated whether or not you should follow Poppy's plan. You bit your lip with anticipation, “What’s the worst that could happen, right?”

Poppy nodded, a brighter smile blooming on her face. She wiped your tears and fixed your hair, “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

You thanked her, giving her one last hug before turning back towards the door. You took a moment to breathe before bracing yourself and entering his room. The hum of the machines buzzed through your ears, blurring the deafening thoughts racing through your mind. Soft yellow hues from the overhead light illuminated Leon’s scratched up face. Slowly, you moved towards him and stood near the edge of the bed. You stared at his hand, a bandage wrapped around what you assumed to be a wound obtained from catching a knife. Hesitantly, your fingers touched the bandage before gently snaking them to hold his hand. A sense of relief washed over you as the warmth of his hand reassured he was alive and well. Although he was sleeping, you felt him grip your hand just a tiny bit tighter once yours was in his, causing your lips to quiver again and slow tears to fall. 

“Um, hey,” Your voice cracked, “Sorry. Um, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? I really missed you, and I was really worried about you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left. Uh, I don’t really know what I’m saying right now, but I care for you. I want you to be happy, I want you to be healthy, and-” 

You gulped, “And…I want to be the one to make you happy.” 

“I…” You took a deep breath, “I love you, Leon.”

And, mumbling through his slumber, Leon whispered, “I love you too, Ada.” 

…..

It’s been three days since you showed up to work, having a poor excuse of catching a nasty cold. In reality, you were perfectly fine if you considered an aching heart to be okay. Like a teen whose crush just kissed another person, you spend the last three days lazing around in your bed, barely getting up to eat and seldom showering. You basically lived in your bed. But as nice as this was, you couldn’t run away forever. You had a day job, and you didn’t want to risk getting fired. So, you shuffled towards your bathroom and hopped in the shower, not having the confidence to look at your appearance through the mirror’s reflection. Even though it took most of your energy to walk to the shower, you instantly regretted not showering sooner with the relief of the hot water soaking your frail body. You worked through your matted and tangled hair, cleaned up your hygiene, and took some time to think about random shower thoughts. After all, that’s all you’d been doing with your time – thinking. Though no matter how much you thought about it, you couldn’t figure out any answers to your questions: Who was Ada and when did he meet her? 

If you recall correctly, you were the only person that had been hooking up with Leon. You confirmed this because he rarely spends nights at others’ places, having preferred to be in the comfort of his own home. Plus, you never saw any indications of other female visitors at his place. So, if you and he had been exclusive for the past few months, that limits the time frame down to Ada being way before your time and not a recent person of interest. So, then the question changes to whether Ada was an ex-girlfriend and whether Leon still had feelings for her. 

Who were you kidding? Of course he still had feelings for her, he confessed his love to Ada afterall. Even though he didn’t know that it was you that had confessed to him, Leon subconsciously kept Ada close to his heart. 

The only thing to confuse you was why had Leon treated you so nicely beforehand? He was always around you, kept you company, walked you home, memorized your favorite foods, and so on. What was the reason for all of that if he hadn’t been interested? Was he leading you on? Toying with your feelings? Had you over-thought his actions? 

You groaned, frustrated at the endless loop of questions in your head. With some new found anger, you stepped out of the shower and started your care routine. You kind of missed having a normal person routine as much as you despised how much effort it took to make yourself deemed socially presentable. Fortunately, your journey to work was uneventful. You did your best to avoid crowded areas, mostly keeping your eye out for Leon. You were not ready to face Leon, knowing that you’d freeze up immediately. You were trying to lay low, keep yourself from being too suspicious. 

“What are we looking at?” 

Fuck.

You jumped through your skin, nearly having a heart attack. You spun around abruptly, having been face to face with the very person you’d been trying to avoid. You stood there, frozen and mouth agape and you tried to muster up a coherent sentence to speak. 

Once he realized you were struggling, Leon popped his brow, “No hello?” 

“Hello?”

Leon nodded, slowly, “Hi. So, how’ve you-”

“Um, I gotta go!” And, you sprinted towards your office, leaving Leon staring confused at your retreating figure. 

You spent the next few days avoiding Leon like that by running into the bathrooms whenever he passed in the hall, ducking under the table if you both decided to go into the food hall, and sitting on the opposite side of the table in the briefing room for mandatory meetings. You didn’t care if you were blatantly obvious that you were avoiding Leon. You knew he was smart enough to know that, but you weren’t ready to confront him. Thankfully, Leon hadn’t pushed you to meet with him, but he did send you many concerned glances whenever you both were in close vicinity. Until today, at least, when a light knock on your doorframe took you out of your work. 

“I thought you said you were leaving early today, Poppy.” 

“She did leave.” 

Your head snapped up, “Agent Kennedy-” 

“Oh so, it’s agent now?” Leon questioned, welcoming himself into your office and closing the door behind him. His eyes narrowed and expression stern, indicating that he was fully serious. Admittingly, he played into your game for a while, but he grew tired of you running away. He too wanted answers to his questions. 

You looked away, not liking the way your heart ached when he looked at you with that condescending expression on his face. It made you feel like you disappointed him, “This isn’t very work appropriate.” 

“Is there something wrong with co-workers visiting each other?” Leon questioned, sitting himself in your guest chair. 

You countered, “It’s after work hours.” 

“That hasn’t stopped us before, has it?”

You bit your lip, having no rebuttal against him. Silence cloaked the room as the both of you waited for someone to say something. When he knew that you weren’t willing to give a response, Leon pushed the conversation. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Leon stated blandly, “Why is that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Bullshit,” Leon spat, “I’ve seen you run into bathrooms, hide under furniture, and make up lame excuses whenever I’m around. What the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing, you don’t have to worry about it,” You buried your face in your hands, already feeling a headache forming from the result of a long day, “Please, Leon, just-”

“What happened to Agent Kennedy?” Leon sassed, his tone indicating that he was choosing to be petty. 

You groaned, “Please, don’t make this any harder for me.” 

“And, you don’t think it’s hard for me as well?” 

You scoffed, “Why would it be hard for you?” 

Leon pressed, “Because the person I’m fucking is avoiding me like I still have Las Plagas.” 

“So, is that what I am?” You laughed in disbelief, “Just someone to fuck?”

“Isn’t that what we agreed on?” Leon grimaced at his own words, but continued to stand his ground. 

“We didn’t agree on anything, Leon. Shit just happened.” 

“And what about now? What changed?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. One moment we’re no strings attached and the next moment we’re eating pizza like we’re a couple. You confuse me, Leon. You lead me on, and I don’t know how to feel about you,” You took deep breaths, trying your best not to overreact or become too emotional, but you were failing. 

“And, how do you feel about me?”

“For fucks sake,” And, you snapped, “I love you, Leon! Can’t you fucking see that!?” 

The cloak of silence engulfed you two again, only the sounds of your ragged breathing piercing through the air. As you caught Leon’s eyes for the first time, you finally broke down with that familiar lump in your throat and blur in your eyes. 

“And, I’m fucking heartbroken sitting here infront of you, acting like everything’s okay when it’s not. I feel like my heart is ripping out of my chest, because I confessed my love for you and you don’t feel the same,” You sniffled, trying your best to hold your tears back as they trailed down your face. 

“You confessed to me? When?” Leon questioned in disbelief. 

“When you came back.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Let me make this easy for you then,” You paused, “Who’s Ada?”

Leon’s eyes widened, jaw slightly slacking. He didn’t answer you, just staring at you as he internally debated what was the best answer. But, he didn’t know what to say to you and even more so what to say to himself. 

You purse your lips, wiping away your last tears before confidently speaking, “Exactly, so until you figure out your feelings, please don’t talk to me.” 

…..

It’s been two weeks since you and Leon last talked – or rather interacted. There were no longer any lingering looks, no hiding behind furniture, and no running into bathrooms. It wasn’t an effort to stay out of each other's lives anymore, it rather came naturally as you both had differing missions. During your time apart, you took much time to think for yourself – healthily at that – and unravel the situation. Beneficially, you were doing slightly better than before such as eating more and sleeping more. But ultimately, Leon was still on your mind 24/7. And, being invited to the President’s gala dedicated towards rewarding and celebrating the researchers and agents who contributed to saving Ashley did you no justice in keeping your mind off Leon. 

“Doing okay?” Poppy found you sitting alone in the corner with a large glass of champagne. 

“Yeah, just taking a break,” You sighed, craning your neck to loosen up the tense muscles, “I don’t know how much longer I can take people coming up to thank me or tell me how great my research is.” 

Poppy laughed, popping some of the table candy into her mouth, “What? Don’t like being the center of attention?”

You itched at your face, skin feeling heavy with the makeup that covered your dark circles, “Not when I have to dress up and act prim and proper all the time. Like, could we have not done this in an email or something?” 

Poppy took her flute of champagne and gently tapped the rim against yours, “Cheers to that, I could be home watching TV.” 

You both shot back your drinks, relishing in the sweet flavor and bubbly texture. You and Poppy chatted for a moment before she was taken away to meet more people, leaving you back in your lonely corner. Eventually, after sitting for a while, you became bored, having already met with most people or just on low energy in general. You didn’t want to take another flute of champagne, fearful that it’d make you more sluggish than you already were, so you motivated yourself to make your way to the snack table and hoped that something citrus-y could wake you up. 

Just as you were about to grab a scoop from the fruit bowl, a voice from behind you caught your attention, “Hey! You’re the agent that discovered that I got kidnapped, right?”

Turning around, you came face to face with Ashley, “I had a bit of help.” 

“Thanks, you saved my life,” Ashley smiled, hugging you with appreciation before taking your hand and dragging you towards another part of the gala, “Hey, let me introduce you to my dad!” 

“Actually-” 

You tried to protest, but you already found yourself face to face with the President. 

“Ashley! So, that’s where you ran off to. Who’s this?” 

You turned towards the man, body instantly stiffening with formality, “Mr. President.” 

Ashley smiled, “This is the agent that discovered that I got kidnapped.” 

The President gave you a nod, “Thank you for saving my daughter.” 

Feeling awkward in the presence of such high authority, you just smiled and fiddled with your empty fingers. Before you could excuse yourself, Ashley perked up, “Dad look! It’s Leon!”

Fuck. Just what you needed. 

The President turned towards Leon and gave him a firm handshake with much more adoration and affection than what he gave you, “I knew I could count on you, Leon. You’re a valuable asset.” 

You and Leon connected eyes for a brief moment, his eyes lingering before Leon focused his attention back to the President and acknowledged his words, “I couldn’t have succeeded without my partner.” 

Leon and the President continued chatting as you stood there silently, thoughts about your fruit bowl long gone. You choked at Leon’s words, definitely knowing that he was referring to you but not directly. It’s been so long since you’ve heard Leon’s voice and seen Leon’s face, all of your progress of moving on fell back to ground level as your heart longed for him. You stood there awkwardly, having felt like you were very out of place. You were zoned out for most of the conversation or at least until you noticed Ashley inching closer towards Leon. Her laughter was louder, more forced as she clung on Leon’s arm. She pressed herself up against him, causing a sickening feeling to brew in your stomach. But that feeling was nothing compared to seeing Leon do nothing to brush off Ashley from his side. 

At this moment, you were glad you never touched the fruit bowl, knowing that it would’ve come up from your front seat view of Leon and Ashley. Unfortunately, the heaps of alcohol were starting to get to you as nausea and fatigue washed over your consciousness. Picking up a glass of water from a passing staff member, you took a few heavy gulps before inserting yourself back into the conversation, “Please excuse me.”

For the most part, you were ignored which you didn’t mind too much, having been able to slip away unnoticed. Briskly walking out of the main room, you found yourself stumbling through long halls, almost identical to the last before somehow locating a low leveled balcony overlooking a large open field of grass and garden. You untangled the curtains and softly closed the elegant door behind you, shielding yourself into isolation as you walked towards the balcony’s edge and leaning your hip against the cold stone. Looking out into the night, you sighed a breath of relief as the rush of cool air enveloped your flushed body. 

You lost track of time staring at the stars above you, drunk thoughts floating through your mind. Specifically, thoughts about Leon, then Leon and Ashley, and then Leon and you – or rather Leon without you. At this point, you hated how your thoughts were consumed by him, almost like your entire life revolved around him. You wondered, how did you get yourself to this point? 

Groaning in frustration, you fished out a spare cigarette and lighter from your person, pressing the soft paper between your lips and reaching up to light the tip. You rotated the gears of the lighter to ignite a flame; however, the cool breeze of the night prevented the flame from growing high enough. You cursed, trying again and again, but to no avail – until a large hand helped enclose your cigarette and block the wind from extinguishing your flame. You followed the hand’s owner, surprised to see Leon standing before you, having no conclusion on how he made it past the balcony doors without you noticing or hearing him. 

You slacked your lips, letting the cigarette slightly fall just enough to let you speak, “I thought you didn’t like smokers.”

“You only smoke when you’re stressed,” Leon shrugged, still cupping his hand near your cigarette. 

You didn’t comment, lighting your cigarette and sheathing your lighter. You took a long, deep breath before blowing out the smoke in the opposite direction where Leon stood. For a moment, you did debate whether to blow smoke in his face, but you weren’t that petty. Yet. 

“Long night, I guess.” 

“Yeah, same,” Leon scrunched his brows, referring to these awful parties that always praised the small number of agents and soldiers that were lucky enough to return home to their families. 

Deciding to act civilized, you lightly chuckled, flicking the ashes off your cigarette, “Not enjoying the spotlight, hero boy?”

“Can’t say I do this often.”

You didn’t reply and found no need to keep the conversation going. Maybe it was awkward, but the smell of nicotine helped ease your nerves. You enjoyed watching the smoke as it dissipated into the night air, only to be blown away by the gentle breeze which made you and the garden bushes shiver. 

You heard Leon rustling before a bit of heavy weight landed on your shoulders and the residual warmth engulfed your arms and torso. Stubbing out your cigarette, you blow out one last drag before looking over at Leon in his button up and instinctively gripping his jacket around you tighter. You usually brought your own jackets to these kinds of events, but you didn’t expect to run and hide outside for this long. 

“Kenn-”

“Keep it, you’re cold,” Leon leaned up against the balcony, “And, call me Leon.”

You didn’t know how to answer him, so you chose not to. You didn’t feel like you could be personal with him, at least not anytime soon. 

Noticing your lack of interaction, Leon piped up, “So, what’s on your mind?”

You cringed at the question, shrugging through his jacket, “Things.”

“Like?”

“Personal things.”

Another blanket of silence covered you both, but this time, it was definitely awkward as you no longer had your smoke to distract you with. 

“You-” 

“I’m-”

You purse your lips, “Sorry, you go first.”

“Please, I insist.”

For the first time since he came out, you and Leon made eye contact as you both tried to read each other's emotions. You debated whether or not to say anything to him, knowing that you had weeks of pent up emotions and unresolved tension. Thinking about Poppy, voices about weighing your pros and cons came back to mind. Pros with talking with Leon were gaining yourself a sense of conclusion, whereas the cons were getting your heart broken – again. Somewhere along the line of thinking, your heart must’ve made the decision for you, throwing logic completely out the question. While gazing into his blue eyes, your pupils shook, causing you to close your eyes and take a deep breath for confidence. 

With a small and broken voice, you softly spoke in a volume borderline inaudible, “You can’t- you can’t keep doing this to me, Leon.”

Leon pinched his eyes closed, almost like he was in physical pain, “I know.”

“You’re hurting me,” Your voice quivered. 

“I know.”

“I’m confused at your words and actions.” 

“I know.” 

“And, this whole time I feel like I’ve just been used.”

“I know.” 

Suddenly, you grit your teeth in frustration and throwing his jacket off your shoulders, “Fuck, Leon, can you say anything besides I know!?”

You didn’t mean to shout at him, but it just came out like that. You really shouldn’t have yelled. You were never the type to speak out from emotions anyways. Plus, you didn’t need to draw attention to yourselves had there been any unseen party goers straggling in the hallway. 

Watching Leon frown from your outburst made your heart ache before his eyes shifted towards something sympathetic. He shifted closer towards you, picking up his jacket and fixing it back on you before placing a warm hand over yours, “I’ve figured out my feelings.”

Tears flooded your vision as the air in your lungs crushed your chest. It didn’t matter what Leon’s answer was, you just weren’t ready to hear it, so you did the first thing that came to mind. You ran away, “No, no, no, don’t do this to me right now, please. I can’t do this anymore, just leave me alone, please.”

With his lightning reaction, Leon caught you by the arms and stopped you halfway towards the door. His grip was strong enough to hug you comfortably in his chest, but nowhere near tight enough to be painful or uncomfortable. Still, you pathetically fought against him, weakly slapping his upper chest; although, a part of you really didn't want him to let you go. 

Leon hugged you tighter, holding you closely and consoled your hysterics the best he could, “Shh, baby please, just let me explain.”

You halted your struggling, “Let go of me.”

"You don't mean it," Leon shook his head, "I don't believe you." 

"Le-" 

“Damn it, Y/N!” 

Leon's abrupt outburst killed whatever thought you had and silenced you into submission. Of all the years you've known him, never once has he ever raised his voice at you nor looked at you with such passionate eyes blazing with equal parts frustration and determination. 

“I will tell you everything, okay? Ask me anything you want, I’ll give you only the truth. I just want to talk to you, please?”

He continued when you didn't answer him. 

“I don’t want to leave you like this, but if you decide that you don’t like my answers or that you don’t like me, just say the word and everything we’ve ever had stops,” Leon looked down at you hopeful, releasing his hold as a sign that he trusts you not to dash away. Instead, he fixed his jacket around you as you didn't realize it was halfway down your torso. 

"Deal?" Leon said. 

Hesitantly, you nodded. Maybe it was his change in demeanor or thoughtful speech or the smell of his cologne engulfing you – whatever it was, you were compelled to accept the temptations of a devil. And yours was Leon and his sparkling eyes under the moonlit sky. 

“Say it, please,” His tone returned back to a soft and gentle level as he cupped your face with one hand and brushed your bottom lip with his thumb. 

You gulped nervously, yet determined for answers, “You have one minute.”

Leon let out a sigh of relief before flashing a small, crooked smile and thanking you for giving him a chance. 

“Ada was someone I met at Raccoon City. We spent a bit of time together, trying to get to Umbrella’s underground lab. She kissed me, but we had our differences and ended up parting ways.”

“Differences?” You perked. 

“I wanted to save the people, but she didn’t," It was a simple answer, but Leon didn't have time to elaborate while on your timer, “Then, I met Ada in Spain.”

"Wait," You paused and rewound the storyline, “I thought only you and Claire survived.”

Leon nodded with a far off look on his face as he reminisced his old days, “I thought so too, I don’t even know how she’s alive or what she’s doing, but she was in Spain.”

“Leon, why didn’t you tell us? She could be dangerous, she could’ve been working for Los Illuminados!” You scolded with a deep frown, wondering how he could've trusted someone like that. 

“No, she isn’t," Leon denied, "She’s working for someone else though, I don’t know who.”

Getting sick of talking about Ada and nearing the end of your minute, you jabbed, “I’m failing to see how this involves me.”

“This involves you, because I can’t get you out of my mind! At first, I thought it was all physical, and that was okay with me. But, we started working on more projects together, and I could finally see you for who you are. Like how intelligent you are in the meeting rooms, how your eyes crinkle when you smile at Poppy, and how you always look at me with your sparkling eyes. I didn’t even know when I started falling for you. I looked forward to seeing you every Friday, even if nothing were to happen, I still wanted your company. I wanted to see you for as long as I could, so that’s why I started visiting your office more, inviting you out more, figuring out your likes and dislikes. God, I’m so fucking obsessed with you.”

Without realizing, Leon caged you against the balcony with his hands on either side of your hips and drew soft circles. He ghosted his lips on the nape of your neck before following the shell of your ear and whispered, “‘I’m so fucking obsessed with you, when I look at you I create a future with us. Just me and you, and maybe some little ones later if you wanted.”

You sighed in pleasure as you responded to his kisses, one leg instinctively hooking around his thigh as to bring him closer to you. Leon accepted your beckoning and closed the gap between each other's chests. Face to face, you could feel his breath on your lips as he laid his forehead on yours. There was barely anything keeping you from kissing each other, something you two had never done before while hooking up as it seemed too intimate for friends with benefits to do. 

Looking into his eyes, you didn't need to ask if he were sincere. You could see all of him already, and he made sure you knew that he was willing to be a hundred percent and more vulnerable. While observing, you noticed how his eyes darted between yours frantically and how his Adam's apple bobbed in a nervous gulp. You were taking too long to answer. 

“Why are you so scared?” You asked gently, placing a hand on his cheek. 

He nuzzled into your touch, “I’m scared of hurting you. I didn’t know if I would come back from that mission. I made a promise that I didn’t even know if I could keep.” 

“You came back,” You explained, now calm and confident as you said, “That’s all that matters.”

Leon's eyes lit up in delight with a breath of relief. Without any warning, Leon’s lips were all over your face, kissing your cheeks, temple, and forehead. You shied back, embarrassed from his affection. He must’ve known this as well, smirking from seeing the blush surfaced on your cheeks. Palm facing outwards, you partially blocked your face as you looked away, “Don’t look at me.”

“You look beautiful,” Leon gently removed your guarding hand and held it in his with a comforting caress before taking his other hand to guide your chin back to lock eyes, “Can I kiss you again?”

You didn’t answer him with words, opting to crane your neck forward and pressing your lips onto his. Without hesitation, Leon melted into your kiss by sliding the hand on your chin along your jawline and adjusting your angle to deepen the kiss. Arching your back, you circled your arms around his broad shoulders. Leon’s hands moved back to your hips, effortlessly propping you to sit on the balcony’s edge. You gasped in pleasure as you wrapped your legs around Leon’s hips, feeling him pressed against your core. Leon pulled you closer, teasingly grinding his hips against yours. 

“Leon!” You hissed, slapping his chest, “We’re at a party. We-”

“- could get caught?” Leon pulled back with a smirk, “Don’t be loud then.” 

You scolded him to which he laughed joyously. As much as you were annoyed with his antics, you knew that you’d never be able to forget how big his smile was and how happy he looked with you in his arms. So, you laughed with him with a large smile on your face as well, feeling the most safe and comfortable in this moment. 

He held you closely, listening to the beat of his heart, "As much as I want to take you right now, I want us to take it slow. There's so much I want to show how I can treat you. Until then, let's wait until we're both ready." 

…..

Leon had gone out of his way to make you feel like you were his world. Every morning, he’d send you a short message even if it were just a hello. If you had time before work, he’d meet you at your apartment and take you out for a quick breakfast before heading to the office. If you happened to be running late, Leon still made sure to drop off your favorite drink before carrying out his own responsibilities. During lunch, Leon would sit extra close to you, enough to indicate to onlookers that something was brewing between the two of you, but distant enough to not make anyone feel uncomfortable. After work, Leon took you out for dinner or walked you home if you were feeling particularly tired. This new found routine eventually became a lifestyle. Leon attended to all your needs and took extra care of you. Although sex with Leon was no doubt amazing, you both found solace in the emotional comfort and companionship. That is until one day you invited Leon over to bake cookies for Poppy’s birthday. 

“There’s eggshells in the mix, Leon.”

“Leon, you didn’t turn on the oven.”

“Don’t eat the chocolate, Leon!”

“Leon! How did you get flour in your hair?”

You sighed, realizing a bit too late that the flawless Leon Kennedy actually did not have a knack for cooking. Leon blushed with embarrassment, wiping the back of his hand on his forehead and thus smearing more flour on his messy face. Putting your batch of the cookies in the oven, you glided over towards Leon to brush his face clean before pressing a quick kiss to his lips, "Just get cleaned up, 'kay?

Leon nodded sheepishly, heading over towards your bathroom and showering while the cookies baked. With only your batch of cookies surviving the mixing phase, you modified the recipe to make mini cookies instead. Thankfully, they were done and set to cool by the time you finished cleaning up. Realizing your clothes were dusted with flour, you made your way to your closet to change into one of Leon’s large t-shirts. Just as the shirt draped over your body, Leon entered with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist and water still dripping down his glistening chest. 

“It’s rude to stare you know,” Leon teased, stretching his bicep on display as he toweled his hair. 

You shuffled your way over to him, teasingly drawing your fingers along the skin of his exposed hipline, “Do you mind?” 

“Not at all,” Leon laughed before sneaking his hands under your thighs and propping you on top of your dresser, “You look good in my clothes. I don’t know how much longer I can resist you.” 

You knew Leon liked to tease you, having gotten used to his sly comments by now. But, you’d been waiting so long since you’ve last had him in you, having Leon barely naked in front of you awoke the desires you’d been trying so hard to suppress. Rubbing your hands along his damp biceps, you trailed your hands all over his chest and up to hold his jawline and bring him in for a deep kiss. You broke the kiss, “Then don’t resist.”

Leon went to protest, probably about to spew some nonsense about waiting for the right time or wanting it to be a special moment, but you’d already forgiven him and any moment with Leon felt special to you. You hushed him impatiently, “Shut up and fuck me or I’ll do it myself.”

You knew you won by his stern set features and darkening eyes, knowing that Leon always hated you pleasuring yourself without his assistance, “Like hell you will.”

Without warning, Leon picked you up again and headed towards your bed, tossing you onto the mattress with a small bounce. You yelped, half in surprise and half in excitement as you tried to sit up; however, Leon stopped you by crawling over your lower body and pining your wrists above your head, “You wanna say that again?”

You tilted your head not-so-innocently, “Say what again, Leon?”

With his free hand, Leon wrapped it around your neck and added a small amount of pressure as a warning, “Don’t test me.” 

You licked your lips, absolutely loving Leon’s change in demeanor. Sometimes, it was too easy to rile him up, “I said, shut up and fuck me or I’ll do it myself.” 

Silence fell between you two as you challenged each other to break first. After a couple moments, you started to believe that maybe you said something wrong by the way Leon had yet to respond or react to you. But this sliver of doubt you held was just enough for Leon to play right into your vulnerability. And with a sly smile, Leon flipped you on your stomach and repositioned your hands to grip a pole on your metal headboard, “Let go and this all stops, do you understand?”

“Wha-” 

Your question was interrupted as Leon released your wrists, bundled his shirt towards your shoulder blades, and lightly smacked your ass. You jolted with a gasp, fingers tightening around the pole. You heard Leon throw something, probably getting rid of his towel. You hated that you couldn’t tell what he was doing nor could you see him in his glory, but that added towards the excitement of it all as you guessed what you were going to feel and experience next. Leon hovered above you, lips ghosting around the shell of your ear, “I don’t repeat myself, love.” 

You clenched at the pet name, whimpering from the ache between your legs. You felt Leon smirk against your skin as he pressed kisses all around your neck and shoulder. He paused to take a pillow and place it comfortably under your pelvis to prop your hips higher for him. Taking a shaky breath in, you readjusted your fingers to grip the pole even tighter than before, “I understand.” 

There was a lack of response as the weight of Leon’s body disappeared, leaving you wondering what was to come next. Through all of Leon’s previous training, he’s perfected stealth movements. No matter how much you closed your eyes to concentrate on focusing, you were well aware that Leon had the ability to exit the room without you even noticing. It felt like forever as your breathing became labored even if you hadn’t moved. The anticipation was killing you, inside and out. Just as you were about to question him, a small pop adjacent to the sound of a bottle opening pierced the air before what sounded like a glop of substance was squeezed out and rubbed between Leon’s hands. You stayed silent, letting your imagination guide you as Leon’s hands finally touched your body. He started at your shoulders, massaging small, pressured circles into the tense muscles. Once he felt you relax against him, Leon moved to give the same treatment along your back, waist, and hips. Although he wasn’t pleasing you sexually, Leon’s hands still felt euphoric as he trailed his hands along your bodyline. 

Suddenly, he stopped at your ass, squirting some more oil onto his hands before gripping the flesh and spreading you apart. Instinctually, you buried your face into the sheets and spread your legs as you felt Leon’s lingering eyes on you. Slipping a thumb forward, Leon swiped up and down your pussy lips, “So wet and I haven’t touched you yet.” 

You grit your teeth, “Don’t tease me.”

Without warning, Leon slipped his thumb in fully, rubbing against your inner walls as you mewled out in response, “You asked for that.”

“Asshole,” You muttered, still trying to adjust to him. Sure you were no stranger to having Leon’s fingers buried in you; however, it’s been so long since you’ve stretched yourself out. 

Leon chose to ignore you, finding your twitching lips more entertaining than your false resistance. He’d gotten used to it by now anyways. Leon explored your tight cunt a little more with his thumb before releasing his hold on you, “Guess we’ll have to do this the long way, not that I mind.” 

You heard Leon shuffle before his soft, wet lips connected with your pussy lips. Licking and sucking, Leon teased and abused your already swollen clit. For extra lubrication, Leon spit on you before shoving his tongue into your awaiting hole, causing you to lurch forward. You moaned out his name as he quickly brought his hands up to hold your hips stable. From the lack of sexual activity, you were surprised to find yourself so sensitive to his licks and unable to hold yourself still for him. It was almost like this was your first time getting eaten out. 

Your thoughts clouded as Leon pushed his face deeper into you, tongue stretching beyond your tight rim as he fucked you. Shuddering with pleasure, you started to gain a sense of control as you rocked your hips back to push him deeper into you. But just as you did so, Leon retracted his tongue and replaced it with two of his fingers as his lips returned back to your clit. You cried out, confused at how Leon's fingers could make you feel this way when you knew his dick in you would feel even better. Had you gone without him for too long? 

You didn't get a chance to dwell much longer as Leon's long fingers curled up and brushed your pleasure point, causing you to cry out even more and subconsciously releasing one of your hands. Leon immediately noticed this, "Calling quits already? I never knew you were so weak." 

You hissed out in annoyance which quickly changed into pleasure as Leon continued fingering deeper into you. The way he pumped in and out of you, foamed up your sticky consistency as it dripped all over his hand. With your limited vision, the audio of your wet squelching intensified as Leon quickened his pace. 

“Ready for three?”

Leon didn’t wait for an answer before adding another finger into you. At this point, your legs were quivering with delight, barely being strong enough to hold you up. Just as he rubbed your most sensitive part, your legs twitched harshly causing you to give out and slump back into the bed and pillow. Without missing a beat, Leon continued fingering you as his other hand rubbed small circles around your clit. Your moans intensified, legs still shaking from the double pleasuring sensation. 

“Wait- Leon- ngh-” 

You tried taking deep breaths to calm yourself, but you knew your climax was coming despite the efforts to prolong it. Leon seemed to know this as well as he – again – increased his speed and skill. He shushed you, prompting you to climax, “Come on, love, I know you can do it. Just let go, I promise to give you more. Just give yourself to me.” 

Instantly, you clenched around him, feeling yourself cum around the bundle of his fingers as he helped you ride it out. Your loud moans transitioned to deep gasps as you took a moment to catch your breath. Leon flipped you over, giving you a chaste kiss, “Still doing okay?” 

“Yes,” You breathed, “Can I let go now?”

You looked up at Leon with a pleading look. Leon debated for a moment before obliging, knowing that your arms must’ve started feeling sore by now, “Fine, but keep your eyes on me. I want to see your face when you cum on me this time.” 

You looked away, embarrassed. Leon chuckled, finding your reaction adorable as he took the initiative to pump himself and slide his tip along your super sensitive clit. Leon pushed himself into you with a vice grip on your hips, groaning from how wet you still were, “I should’ve fucked you sooner.” 

Before he could fully bottom out, you’d already lifted your hips to indicate to him to start thrusting into you; however, Leon did the exact opposite as he pulled back out just to fuck his tip into you over and over again, “Impatient are we? What’s the rush? We’ve got all night.” 

Having enough with his constant teasing, you mustered all your strength to push Leon back as you straddled him with your hands firmly in his toned chest. Power surged through your veins as Leon surrendered himself beneath you. Although you know Leon could easily overpower you and that he probably let you turn the tables on him for his own entertainment, you let your ego fuel your confidence as you took his hardened dick into your hand and guided him inside you as you sank downwards. 

You watched as Leon’s face contorted with pleasure, trying his best to contain his reaction despite how good you felt engulfing him with your hot walls. Rocking up and down slowly, you leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I told you to shut up or I’ll do it myself.” 

Placing your hands on his shoulders to hold your weight, you thrust your hips along his shaft, pumping him from tip to balls. Leon’s groans grew louder as he put his hands on your hips to help you increase your speed. With the support of Leon, you postured back up and used your body weight to slam down onto his dick, feeling him reach the deepest depths of you. Your pussy clenched around him, throwing your head back from the pleasure. 

A smack to your ass shifted your attention back to Leon as he scowled at you, “I told you to keep your eyes on me.” 

Rolling your eyes, you continued to ride him without answering him. Undoubtedly, Leon glared at you, pushing you off of him and pining you back down into missionary, “You asked for it, hope you're ready.” 

You went to call out his bluff; however, Leon thrusted himself fully into you. You cried out from the fullness, unsuspecting that Leon would enter so roughly into you. But your clenching cunt revealed that you secretly enjoyed how rough he was with you. With that in mind, Leon thrusted roughly into you, pushing your body higher and higher upon the mattress. Leon intertwined his hands in yours, pinning you down in place as he pounded himself deeper into you. Usually, Leon focuses on the sight of you swallowing him whole, watching as his shaft disappears into you and reappears wetter than before. However, as Leon slammed his hips into yours and elicited deafening skin slapping audio, he was solely focused on you, reading every passing emotion across your face. He was studying you, figuring out what you liked versus what you loved. He’d try different angles, watching and listening to your reactions and changing his technique accordingly. He kept at it until a single harsh thrust had you tightening against his cock, gripped his hands, and moaning out his name. With that information, Leon smiled and monopolized his findings as he fixated on hitting your g-spot repeatedly, “Gotcha.” 

Leon pounded into you, harsher and deeper than before as he chased his own high. He guided you, telling you when to wait, so that you could both cum together. You struggled to keep your eyes open from how much stimulation you were receiving. But the look in Leon’s eyes convinced you to keep yours open. 

“I’m almost, fuck, I’m almost done,” Leon’s thrusts became sloppy, yet still hitting you where you needed him. 

You chanted his name over and over as you began to cum for the second time, “Please- I-” 

Without releasing your hands, Leon pumped into you one last time before pulling out and squirting his cum over your lower abdomen. Leon muttered a few curses before lazily falling next to you and kissing you. Leon helped you take off his shirt and wipe his cum off of you, throwing it somewhere on the floor before pulling you closer to him and burying himself in the crook of your neck. You receive his cuddles, lacing your fingers into his messy, damp hair. Leon kissed your neck up to your lips, “Doing okay?”

You nodded with a soft smile, “Help me to the bathroom?”

Leon obliged, lifting you up and placing you in the bathtub to share a bath together. Soaking in the warm water, your back rested against his chest. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder as he wrapped his large arms around your midsection like you’d disappear any second, “Leon?”

He kissed your shoulder, “Yes?” 

“Do you love me?” You asked shyly. 

Leon chuckled, holding you tighter against him, “Of course, I love you.”

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” 

You kissed him again, “Good, because I love you too.” 

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fic #leon x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy oneshot #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil smut

[love-toxin]

Retrieval - entry II

entry I

plot: forging on through the horrors you've endured thus far, you venture deeper into the plagas cult territory to find something waiting for you there. more than something--someone.

(cws: fem!reader, blood, body horror, gun violence, knives, mention of a car accident, hurt-comfort, wound tending, raccoon city flashbacks, passing mention of smut)

word count: 5.3k

Even if you did plan out a route on your map, you've quickly realized that the landscape has changed so dramatically in your time away that it likely wouldn't have made a difference. In no uncertain terms, you are completely and devastatingly lost.

By now, the afternoon sun has long started beating on you from overhead and the sprinkling of rain this morning has turned the air thick and uncomfortably muggy. Each step up the incline of the dirt path and by extension the shifting of your clothing is a constant reminder of how sweaty you are, your stretchy shirt damp and sticking to your chest while beads of sweat pour down your neck and cling to your eyelashes. Your gloves have had to come off and Leon's jacket would've followed if the alternative wasn't to carry it–but regardless of those small choices you just have to accept the discomfort and keep trudging forward. You've got no idea where you're headed now but you won't get anywhere by sitting around, and at least you can try to peek through the trees and rocky inclines that line the road to see if you can spot any discernible landmarks. While you still have the task of finding Leon, returning to the village is no longer an option after what you saw this morning.

A shudder runs through you merely at the thought of it, your mind fuzzy with the memories like your brain is trying to protect you from the sight of that massacre. And it's almost worse to ponder that act of senseless violence than it was to witness the aftermath of it, not just because you recognize that some of those bodies were villagers that you'd cut down yourself, but also because you can't envision what kind of monster would have spread out such an unholy image for you. None of the creatures you remember seeing would have the patience or planning to do such a thing, and if it had been the work of a particular monster you'd faced off with, you're certain that if they knew you were there they would've killed you outright instead of trying to–what? Scare you?

Your boot meets a rock and you absentmindedly kick it up, watching with a passive interest as it skitters and tumbles its way around the path before rolling to a stop in the grass beside it. Was it to scare you? Could it have been a fluke, and you'd just barely missed the rampage of a vicious and callous monster? Or was it the will of the Plagas that called them there, and either ended them from within or had them hack each other into oblivion? You've got a feeling you would've heard something if either of those things were the case, but then again your sleep had been….preoccupied.

You shift the straps of your bag to ease the weight from one shoulder to the other, your gaze fluttering from one end of the path to the other like the presence of someone else would somehow allow them to be privy to your thoughts. The intense sweating you've been doing for the last few hours has masked over that wetness between your legs that you've been dealing with, the two forces intermingling so you can't really distinguish one kind of dampness from the other. It certainly doesn't make it any less uncomfortable, and it's an unfortunately clear-headed reminder of the shame you often feel after having one of those dreams about Leon.

After all, he is–was–your best friend. You met before Raccoon City went to shit, you lived through it together, and you faced the same hardships that came after when the world around you wanted to forget the cruelty of that horrid night. You knew how to joke around and keep the air light, you could drag each other out of your depressive episodes when nobody else could reach you, and Leon knew every ugly bit and piece of your life just like you knew his. Your friendship had always been something precious and you could never imagine throwing that all away by admitting to him that you're in love with him. He had been the only person in the world that you knew cared about you, the only person that would go to the ends of the earth to defend you, and to lose that would be equal to a death. It's what's made this loss all the harder, feeling like you've lost him twice over and having to mourn it all alone. And the guilt hits you even more when those feelings bubble up inside you again, because all you want is for them to just go away so you can grieve Leon as what he was, not what you wanted him to be.

You're always tempted to think he'd see you as gross for imagining doing those things with him, to him, but in reality you know that if you ever told Leon he would get the biggest head about it. Feelings or no, he'd be so smug he'd tease you until the end of time and it would stroke his ego to the heavens and back–and whenever you think about it, it just brings a smile to your face on instinct. He could be such a bastard sometimes, but there's no better person you could've called your best friend. Which, of course, makes the pang in your heart hurt all the worse when you're reminded that he's gone, and that he took his last breath in a place like this.

Speaking of which, it dawns on your senses that something absolutely reeks. Granted, the whole village smells of shit and blood–but this smell is different, it's almost worse, and it's to the point that you almost feel the need to pull your shirt up over your nose to block out the invasive wretchedness of it all. It's somehow getting worse as you walk, which can only mean you're getting closer to the source of it–and if it wasn't obvious by now, it becomes obvious with the crack of an aging engine roaring up and the sound of tires scraping over dirt and gravel. Fuck.

The raspy chorus of voices reaches you over the crest of the hill, and within moments of you halting in your tracks the vehicle comes barreling into view. On two crooked axles your imminent death approaches in the form of a truck gunning down the hill at top speed, two Ganados in the seats while God knows how many more growl and shout from the back and behind, brandishing their tools like weapons and vying for your blood.

It only takes seconds for your choices to dawn on you, but even that time isn't generous enough to give you much chance for a successful retreat. With two steps back you finally feel the panic whack you in the chest, but it powers your legs before you can think to move them and soon enough you're sprinting back the way you came. Your feet feel too light to control on the slope but you can't just stop, the heat of the engine is already at your back and if you hesitate, you know you're dead.

Fishing down the opening of your top, your fingers jab the secret pouch you sewed in there and two bullets come back out in your palm, warm steel forcing a calmness into your frayed nerves as you frantically load them into your gun. Those bullets are for emergencies, and you've encountered worse outcomes than this, but dying here would mean failure and there wouldn't be anyone left to try and bring you back to life this time.

You throw your arm back behind you to shoot, and everything flashes a bright, hot light to blot out the world–and then, just as swiftly, it all goes black as the ground falls out beneath you, pain shoots up your spine, and your eyes finally snap shut into total darkness as flame engulfs you.

"Officer! Wake up, officer!"

You haven't been called that in a while, but it still feels familiar–the voice, however, is different. There's only a distant wisp of something you recognize as you struggle to open your eyes.

"S'okay, I'm fine-" Your mumbling rings soft and faint over the crackling of fire and rain, barely audible–but the soon-to-be familiar face shakes his head and huffs a sigh as he pulls you back up to sit straight.

"You are not fine, officer. You're bleeding."

You see now what the situation is, your vision coming back into focus as Leon's warm hands steady you against the alley wall. Your memory's still fuzzy, but the pain shooting up and down your left leg is all you need to remind you of what just happened.

You'd been running down the street, escaping from a herd of the zombies with a bag slung over your back–the artillery from the station had been spread out all over the city and the medical supplies had run dry, so for almost half a day you'd been gone from the station to scout for supplies and redirect survivors towards the safehouses you and your fellow officers had staked out. One of them being the station itself, which had just come into view after you'd skidded around the nearest street corner and spotted those bright lights illuminating the front gate.

But after that, your recollection gets a little fuzzy. You'd heard a screeching sound on your left from behind, felt the tremor of something shaking the ground as several pairs of rotted hands reached for you from over your shoulder…and from there everything is a complete blur. A flash and a wave of heat had rushed over you, the blaring of a horn sounding from behind, and you vaguely recall the ground falling out from beneath you–although, based on the stiff soreness of your back, you suspect the impact of the truck that had hit you had sent you flying and you somehow wound up in this alley, or close to it. You've got a pretty good feeling you didn't just end up sitting back against it with your head propped up, else you've got the devil's luck for certain.

"Leon," You rasp, your throat dry and cracked from the heat and your laboured breathing. With that worried expression painted clear on his youthful face, he holds up a bottle of water to your lips–and you drink gratefully, feeling refreshed even by the wasted droplets dribbling down your chin as you struggle to swallow. "You can call me by my name, y'know–unless you don't remember, in which case my feelings are a–nngh, shit–little hurt." You cringe at the feeling of cloth scraping over your open wounds, nails digging into your other leg as Leon grazes the gash on your opposite thigh with a bit of medicine in hand. It's deep, you can tell that much, and if this were a movie you're morbidly certain that this would be the moment your partner has to put you down before you turn. Maybe you're already getting there, if the feverish heat crawling up your chest is any indication.

You shift your gaze over to the lump beside you, and find that your hand has been resting on the same bag you'd risked hide and hair for. It's half unzipped and looks like it's been rummaged through. It dawns on you that the water, gauze, and other medical supplies he's got rolled out are all part of the stash–and how embarrassing is that? You made so many promises to Marvin and the others that you would come back with hope in your arms, and yet you're the one using what you brought before you've even returned. Clipped by a fucking truck of all things. Yet, when Leon rolls your name off of his tongue with the ease of someone that's said it a thousand times before, your heart flutters and calms all at the same time.

"You're pretty relaxed for someone that just got hit by a car." He reaches out to squeeze your hand, and does so even tighter as he presses an alcohol-soaked pad into your jagged, bloody flesh. It stings like shit immediately and rips a string of curses out of you, but it's a necessary evil, so you just grit your teeth and bear it to try and make it easier for Leon to work. Being a newbie, you figured he would freak out…and yet, somehow, he's even calmer than you and he's doing a damn good job of keeping you distracted for him to tend your wounds.

"Truck, excuse you. Get your facts straight, rookie. Sounds cooler if you call it a truck-" Your half-joking reply is cut short as a sharp cry erupts out of you without warning. Burning pain shoots through your leg, tears immediately welling in your eyes and speeding down your cheeks as the searing sensation overwhelms almost every other sense. Your body jolts with it and Leon's hand comes down firmly on your thigh to keep you still, his other hand pressing warmth into your wound over the cloth he's smeared some herbs into. When the agony eventually starts draining out of you, it takes your strength with it and leaves you slumped back against the wall, lungs tight and burning from you panting and gasping for breath. With another wave soon to come and several more to follow, you have nowhere else to brace yourself but on Leon's shoulder, which you grab hard and squeeze tight as he works the medicine in and goes through the painfully considerate process of disinfecting the wound and bandaging it tight with a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.

"Anything in there?" You finally manage to pant out, forehead dripping with sweat that he takes care to wipe with the other side of the cloth.

"No, don't think so."

"Thank fuck. I'd rather die than yank it out. You're a lifesaver, Lee." You're trying not to whimper as you speak, you don't want to come off as weak, but Leon really doesn't look like he minds nor that he's gonna use it against you in the future. His concern is written plainly on his face, thumbs gentle but firm as he wipes your tears like a brother would do for his younger sister. Or a friend for a friend. A partner for a partner.

"...Lee?" He murmurs, repeating the nickname for you both in a teasing way and a surprised one. You've only met a handful of times, haven't even gotten to know each other aside from the general pleasantries–but he seems happy. Relieved, really, that you don't mind his help or his company.

"You prefer 'rookie'?" You huff right back, anticipating a bit of sass or a rebuttal in some way. But he just shakes his head, seemingly unperturbed as he starts briskly packing the medicine back into your bag as the rain patters against it.

"No, no, just…I've never had a nickname before. Call me whatever you like." He speaks with a smile on his face and it would be irritating, if not for how sincere his words are and how much joy he clearly gets from the smallest gesture. As much as you'd like to dwell on it and humour him with a dozen questions, the zzzzip of your bag beside you and the shuffling as he lifts it up and pulls it snug over his shoulder brings you back to reality. Your very, very unfortunate reality, if the groaning and gnashing sounds in the distance are any indication.

"I hate to say it, but there's no way you're walking on this leg." He says that so ominously but his baby face really isn't doing him any favours, and you're not one to just back away when something needs to get done. So, despite his advice, you grip the wall behind you and stagger to get to your feet, bracing yourself against the warm brick as you hiss in pain and raise yourself unsteadily on only one leg–which, of course, has Leon holding out his hands to steady you as you do, exasperation passing over his features as you make no effort to use him to stabilize yourself.

"Hey! What did I just say?" Leon clicks his tongue like a mother hen, but doesn't leave you high and dry at all. He grabs the arm on your bad side and manhandles you into pulling it over his shoulders, his strength and the hand bracing your opposite hip giving you a very inconvenient shiver. Focus. "You're so stubborn."

"I'm not just sitting out here to die."

"I didn't say that. Here," With one step forward, it's clear that you're not gonna move fast enough to make it to the station unscathed. In a case like this, you'd expect to be left here while the more able-bodied of the two of you goes ahead with the medicine and sends backup when he can–but obviously that isn't quite what Leon has in mind. Instead, he bends down to slide his arm up behind your knees, counts down from two, and sweeps your legs out from beneath you with a careful swiftness to lift you up in a bridal carry. "It's okay, I got you." It's embarrassing and humbling all at once, a squeak smothering itself behind your teeth as you immediately cling to him with your arms around his shoulders. But he doesn't seem at all fazed, and doesn't even stumble as he starts walking towards the edge of the alley. If anything, he walks with more balance while he's carrying both you and your precious cargo to safety. "I'm not just gonna leave you behind."

Leon's got more integrity with one day of the force under his belt than most officers you've known. He's a blessing and an anomaly all at once, precious and potent like both an antidote and a poison mixed as one. But however unclear your feelings about him were that night, you know for certain that you would've died cold and alone in that alley if not for him. He rescued you without any inkling as to what he would get out of it–and even if it kills you, you're going to repay that favour by rescuing him.

"Well hello, miss stranger."

Your eyes flutter open, the ceiling of a room the first thing to meet your gaze–and the second being a man hunching over a table opposite from you, your head turned so far you nearly stumble off the makeshift cot you've been laid out on. "Had a nice nap? Figured as much–you took quite the nasty hit to the skull. Lucky you're still breathing!" He cackles jubilantly, and if nothing else that raspy laugh is what clues you in to that small shred of remembrance.

"Merchant? Wh…What are you…?" You shake your head in disbelief, a soft 'nevermind' passing your lips as you just elect to take this all in at face value. You never understood this 'Merchant' guy when you were here before, so you can't expect to pick him apart for answers now. With measured steps you approach his counter and try to shake off your limp in the process, your eyes scanning over the crowded shelves of his wares–and the inner pockets of his coat that he flashes open to take you by surprise.

"Uh…you got anything for my pistol?"

The Merchant chuckles heartily, and out comes several boxes of the convenient ammunition from beneath his rickety little table. With what little you've got to trade that you spread out on his counter, you can get about two boxes with twenty bullets each for most of what you're carrying. The money for airfare, a cab to the station, and some light supplies you picked up once you landed in Spain has cleaned you out pretty good, but he's fair as always and even offers to clean your gun for you while he's at it.

"Ooh, before you wander off–I've got somethin' extra for you, missy."

With a flourish befitting....him, he pulls out a decently sized piece of equipment out from a box behind him, and turns to lay the shotgun flat across your hands, the weight sinking into your palms as his half-gloved fingers retreat and he lets you get a feel for it. It's pretty hefty on its own, polished and substantial with a trigger that's got the kind of resistance you're used to. With a gesture from him to encourage trying it out, you take a decent step back from his table and lift the gun up into the crook of your arm, eyes lining down the length of it towards a very convenient lantern propped up on top of the crumbling stone wall opposite to you.

One cock of the shutter, a breath in–and a bang erupts from the courtyard, the lantern shattering into a thousand pieces and the Merchant's raspy laughter rising like the flock of crows that take flight from further into the castle grounds, cawing like mad at the sound that echoes like thunder throughout the canyon.

"She's a beaut, ain't she?" The hunched man chortles, clearly prideful of his work. You lower the gun back down to your hip, the smell of ashy powder filling your nose, and nod quietly before turning back to him and holding it out over his counter.

"It's great, but you've got all I had. Maybe I'll come back for it."

"Naw, missy–you keep that. S'on the house this time." Your brows raise in shock and a touch of confusion, along with a little seed of distrust that you can't help but entertain. You know better than to trust people blindly, especially strangers, but then again the Merchant doesn't exactly conform to any expectations you could've had. At your hopeful confirmation of "really?" he nods your way, the bandana that covers his face slipping a bit as he tilts his head forward and reaches behind him.

"While you're at it, have this too–not gonna be much use to me, I'm afraid." With a flourish, he unveils a sheath he'd been hiding only god knows where and sets it down in front of you. From just one glance as you strap your new shotgun to your back, a glimmer of recognition wells up inside you and your hands find the hilt in a matter of seconds. Raising it to your face, you gently tug on the handle to slide the blade all the way out….and sure enough, you do recognize it. The engraving on the side is about as familiar as your own handwriting considering how often you've been on the sharp end of this knife–a product of endless close-combat training sessions that your best friend insisted on practicing with you. It hits you right then–Leon would've died before he let go of this precious thing.

"Where did you find this? Here?"

"Just up the stairs there," He jerks his thumb back towards the entryway behind him, hazy memories of that winding path coming together in your mind as you recall going down it before. "Picked it up from a bloody puddle in the main hall. Return it to your friend, would ya? He's my best customer." You can feel his grin from behind the mask, and a pang hits your heart as you consider breaking the news to him….but the adrenaline is kicking in now and you just have to go, you have to briskly bid him goodbye and excuse your hurry as you rush out towards the stairs and mount each set in record time as you make a mad dash for the foyer.

By sheer luck, your frantic sprint through the winding courtyard betrays no hint of activity since you were here last. The cannon still sits perched at the top of the tower for a raven to crow atop it, and while the stairs are littered with bits of crumbling rubble they're still relatively easy to climb as you come out on the other side, mere feet of space separating you from the smashed-open gate you'd both fought so hard to get into. Down the looming path overshadowed by two huge, towering walls on either side, you hurry up the last few steps and brace both hands on the heavy doors, grunts of effort foregrounding the scrape and rusty squealing of the hinges as you slowly push them open to reveal the place Merchant had directed you towards.

"Hngh-!" With one last shove, you swing them out slowly and step back to catch your breath, before clambering through the entrance and slowing your run to a jog and then to a stop, eyes roaming in wide sweeps around the massive entrance room to look for some kind of clue. It's just as misty around the floor as it was before and the lights fortunately haven't gone out, yet the suits of armour, vases, side tables and weapons scattered everywhere don't alert you to anything immediately out of place. You do find yourself plucking a chunk of loose stone off the ground and slinging it at the nearest knight, however, just to watch as the plates of silver armour clatter with a hollow sound before crashing into a heap on the floor. It's better to be safe than sorry considering what you and Ashley went through last time with those things.

In doing so, and in stepping over to kick aside the helmet with a bit of indulgent violence, something catches in your eye in your peripheral. With a glance, you spot a few dribbles of otherwise un-noteworthy blood and slot your gun out of its holster just in case. But when you kneel down to check it out and wave a bit of the mist away, your eyes widen in disbelief as you see the speckles of blood lead toward a puddle–and beyond that, a trail that guides your line of sight all the way towards the set of doors leading to the inner sanctum.

Is this Leon's?

You shuffle quietly towards the pool of it a bit further away, realizing only upon getting closer how big it really is. Aside from the puddle itself there are smears drawn through it and radiating out to paint the unmarred floor, as if someone had either stepped through it and slipped or had sat down completely and let themselves bleed freely where they lay. Based on the trail, it resembles the evidence of an attack, an injury or death, and then the person being dragged off towards a second location. But no matter how weak he might have been, you just can't picture Leon being hurt like this and not fighting back, not winning in general, because when you pull out the knife and hold it over the puddle you can clearly see the spot it had been lying in when Merchant had picked it up.

There's only one other option you can think of, though, which is somehow more gruesome than the thought of your best friend being stabbed and his body being dragged away to be disposed of…

…Did he try to cut the parasite out of his body?

The scene in front of you paints a horribly gruesome picture with that idea in your mind. Did Leon sit here, bloody and injured from the explosion, and attempt to cut the Plagas out from his body? If he did, did he succeed? Or did he simply put himself through more torture before he met his inhuman end, and was dragged off by some other force to be used for more of their sick rituals? Following the trail of blood where it leads is your only option, but it is an option, which is something you've slowly started believing you weren't going to find after all.

"Leon!"

You call out his name as you get back up to your feet, your voice ringing through the hall in haunting echoes. It doesn't matter if you draw whatever's hiding out into the open. At least you'll know what's waiting around the corner to strike–and in the case that Leon hears you, you want him to know that you tried. You're trying. You want him to realize you want to find him, you're thinking about him, you care for him and that you didn't leave him behind just to forget about him. You're here now and you'll do anything if it means getting him back.

"Leon, I'm here!"

The next set of doors part somewhat easier than the ones that lead outside, your shoulder more than enough for you to push through and slip into the next room to track the trails left behind. Your legs stall once you've wound through the interconnected room between and laid your hand on one of those huge doors around the corner–you know exactly what could be waiting there, and what you'd had to deal with last time–but it just isn't enough to stop you, even though it should. You push through it and take a step into the long, massive room that stretches out into many key areas for an ambush, and breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of the wheels still in place and the staircase already lowered. Perhaps you have been lucky and nothing else has really changed aside from Leon's presence, but that still doesn't allow you to give yourself pause as you hurry up the steps and hop over the pedestals with your gun drawn. The blackened, muddy water doesn't scare you, nor do the half-ajar doors up on the catwalks that could burst open and spill out with bloodthirsty cult zombies. The trail Leon's left for you is getting thinner and sparser, however, and that does worry you as you approach the next set of doors and take them each in stride.

You can't lie to yourself, your hope is dwindling just as quickly as it came on. Only splatters and splotches of the trail remain and nothing else has alerted you of his presence yet–no notes, no scraps of fabric torn off his clothes, not even a hair in sight for you to inspect and try to determine whether or not it's Leon's. Maybe it was just a stray dog or a wolf after all. Maybe you really are grasping at straws.

"No. He's here. Don't give up yet." You whisper under your breath to yourself, praying in the very back of your mind that the self-reassurance is enough to keep your feet moving as you head in the direction of the courtyard. You just keep repeating it in your mind. He's here. He's here. Leon's gotta be here. I know he's here. I'll find him. Your inner voice grows so strong as you walk through the chilly air of the night that you really start to feel that way, to the point that it feels like Leon's eyes are piercing into you.

In fact, it really feels like you're being watched when you start thinking about it. It's probably just paranoia, and understandably so considering this place's gruesome past. Your knuckles brush over the handle of Leon's knife at your hip out of habit, but even with that thought in mind you still stop in your tracks right at the gate into the courtyard.

You swear you just heard a cough. It couldn't be. Monsters don't cough. Not like that.

The blade slings out of its sheath with a shiiing that could cut the air itself, and your fingertips are just barely brushing the grip as it flies in an arc out of your grasp–that's the moment you get a glimpse of the person standing behind you, and your breath chokes itself out of your mouth as the tip of that bloodied blade meets their throat.

You could've anticipated almost anything…but not this. Anything but what's standing before you, staring you down with eyes that could burn you down into ashes and blow you away in the breeze.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon kennedy #plagas!leon #plagas!leon kennedy #re4make #resident evil #series: retrieval #ellie writes #5k

[scribble-bunnie]

Let You Go | Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x Reader (Gender Neutral, I think, I didn't specify anything)

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending that's also kinda Open?

Summary: Fragments of the process of falling in love with you; and the moment it all built up to.

A/n: This is my first time writing for this fandom and I'm only watched till the 2nd episode of S4 so please forgive any mistakes! Also, the Doctor might be ooc (my biggest nightmare, writing ooc characters) but I was possessed last night to write this instead of studying so ofc I will share it. The pacing is all over the place and I'm not the proudest but it's something. I hope you enjoy it regardless <3

also available on ao3!

The Doctor doesn't remember how it happened. It had been too quick, or maybe too slow– or maybe it was both at once, leaving him unable to pinpoint when or how he fell in love with you. All he knew was that it had been easy.

There were moments though– moments when he could remember distinctly the unusual rhythm of his hearts that played only around you. Moments when, in the back of his mind, he had no choice but to admit that he was in love.

The one that hurt him the most to this day was the moment born out of his own anger. It had been at the end of a particularly harsh adventure, one that had left his feelings in a jumble, anger hot and quick to lash out the moment you had pushed a little too far, too close to his heart and to his hurt– he had shouted at you, "Don't you dare! You are not special!"

There was silence for a few seconds, enough to get the Doctor to realise what he had said but it was your response that still haunted him to this day.

"I know," you had said gently. He could see the hurt in your eyes, masked with an understanding and soft smile that was reassured. "I know I'm not special. I'm perfectly ordinary. And isn't that wonderful? Someone special like you needs someone ordinary like me by his side– to remind you that it's okay to be ordinary sometimes. It's not a bad thing, Doctor."

You had inched closer and opened your arms to offer him a hug, a way out of the conversation – a silent way to make an apology. He had taken it, not knowing what else he could have done instead to make you realise that you were wrong. Being ordinary was wonderful, but you were special. Special to him in ways he was too terrified to admit even to himself, so much so that he had said the opposite in a fit of anger because he was scared.

He didn't know how you did it, but you somehow knew that his anger was just him being hurt and scared. And you were always generous with your hugs when anyone was afraid– didn't he know that after seeing you hold so many strangers close while on your dangerous adventures? Those same strangers that he had been jealous of had been replaced by him in that situation and suddenly, the moment was not all that he had hoped it would be. It wasn't a delicate and vulnerable moment like he had thought; he had ruined it by hurting you.

Yet you were never one to hold a grudge. You never really mentioned it, except in passing sometimes when you joked about being ordinary and common whenever an alien or person would think you extraordinary. Every single time, the Doctor regretted not letting you know the truth– but that moment had been one where he couldn't have denied the truth even if he was scared.

There were other times, other memories of you that were a lot more warmer to remember. Like the time when you had asked him, a few days after joining him, whether the TARDIS was alive. He had answered you with a simple yes, and you had just nodded then but he could see you take the time to pet the TARDIS and speak to her sometimes when you thought he wasn't around. It was sweet, the way you were connecting to his only constant through all of time and space.

There was a moment on another planet, one in the far past where an alien species had been under attack from another. The Doctor still remembered the sight of you holding the alien child in your arms while you all tried to escape– had heard the comfort you had whispered into the child's ears despite being scared underneath the surface yourself.

When he asked you about it later, you had just given him a radiant smile and said, "The fear is just my natural instinct, Doctor. But the conscious part of me knows that you are there– and it's never scared because it believes in you."

You believed in him.

Sometimes, he wondered why. On the days when all the two of you encountered was death and destruction, the whispers of the danger that follows the Doctor clanging in the back of his head as hollow reminders, he wondered why you would choose to put all your faith in him. Why would you think that he was special, but you were ordinary? How were you able to still offer him comfort after seeing him destroy planets, species, entire civilizations? What did you see in him, an empty shell of a man he once used to be?

"Doctor?"

Your voice was like a steady anchor whenever he felt like he was drowning in his own thoughts. The loud volume of it was always offset with the gentleness in your tone whenever you spoke to him, and somehow, it always managed to make him feel warm. It sounded a lot like ho–

"Doctor, are you okay?" Your voice was concerned now. The Doctor blinked, snapping out of his own thoughts to look at you. You were holding something in your left hand and reaching out to touch him with your right one. "Is there something I can do?"

"No, no!" He cleared his throat, giving you a bright grin that faded a little at the edges when he realised that you were still staring at him impassively. "Sorry, just got a bit lost in my thoughts there."

You hummed, wrapping your arms around the box in your hands now. The Doctor looked at it curiously; wasn't it one of those cookie tins that you said were always full of sewing materials?

"Was it… about her?" You asked quietly, a little unsure and hesitant. It was the only topic you never really brought up– and whenever you did, you always sounded a little scared. Like anything you said would hurt him too much. Or maybe you were scared to pry too far into his feelings. "The planet we went to today… Did you go there with her?"

He had done that before. You had been there with Martha, when he had taken you two to places he had been with Rose. Never again after that, though.

"No, not this one," he shook his head, trying to look you in the eyes. It was usually so easy, you were always looking at him with wide eyes that seemed to admire him. Now though, you were looking away. He tried again. "I wasn't thinking about her."

"Home, then?" You finally looked him in the eyes, a little tension sucked out but not all. Gallifrey was the second topic you were careful to speak around. You had had your fair share of answers demanded out of him like Martha had, but after that, you had let the choice lie with him whether he wanted to talk about it. And, weirdly enough, sometimes he wanted to tell you everything. Wanted to tell you about the place that once used to be his home. Now…

"This is my home now," he replied quietly, hand slipping to cover yours over the cookie tin. You and the TARDIS. Home. "Anyway, what's this?"

If you realised his terrible attempt at switching topics (which you did, as always), you didn't comment on it. Instead, you held up the box and opened it to reveal not the notorious sewing materials but actual cookies.

"I," you blushed, embarrassed for once. It was surprising, considering you had held steadfast through far more humiliating scenes in all your adventures. Why were you blushing over cookies? "I tried baking some cookies. It's not, it's not much, and they're not all that goo– hey! I'm still speaking!"

The Doctor didn't wait after hearing that you made them. He immediately picked one up to try it. He could tell that the baking powder was just a little bit too much and the mix wasn't done properly in some bits but you were looking at him with a shy smile.

"I thought you deserved a little nice something after the mess our last adventure was," you mumbled, picking up one of the cookies yourself to eat.

"It's good," the Doctor felt a little choked– not on the cookie, but there was a lump in his throat. You rolled your eyes, waving your half eaten cookie at him.

"Liar," you called out, smiling through the action. "I promise the next ones will be better. Or maybe I should try a cake next time. Would you like that?"

The Doctor stiffly nodded, trying to blink away the sting in his eyes. As always, you knew something was off.

"Hey," your voice was soft, concerned. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"No," the word came out before he could stop it. Somehow, neither his brain nor his mouth had a filter when it came to you. "I just… wonder."

You waited for him to speak when he paused, trying hard to put the words together. Speaking his emotions was always so difficult.

"I just wonder," he tried again, "what I did to deserve you."

"It's just cookies, silly," you shook your head, inching closer. The Doctor hoped you would step even closer. A hug would be really, really nice right now. "It's nothing compared to all that you've given me. I have seen so much, gone all across time and space because of you– I could ask you right back what I did to deserve you."

"It's not," he was struggling but he had to let you know. You looked a bit confused, pausing in your actions to look up at him. "It's not nothing. All of time and space is nothing compared to all that you have given me. That understanding, that comfort, that warmth– I can't find it anywhere else in that time and space you speak of."

"Doctor…"

"Do you remember that time I said you were not special?" He asked quietly, taking a step closer. It was the first time he had done it; usually, you were the one who had to cross the space between the two of you. You opened your mouth, probably to say that it was all bygones, but he rushed ahead with, "I lied. I have wanted to tell you ever since then, that I am just a coward, and a liar. Saying that you're not special… that was just me trying to tell myself that I can't let you be special to me. Because the moment I let that happen, that's the moment I–"

He broke off, frustrated at how the words just weren't coming out the way they were supposed to. What was he supposed to say anyway? It's not like he could tell you his feelings. There was no way you would take it kindly. Not after knowing about Rose, not when you had only ever looked at him with respect and admiration.

"Doctor," your voice was quiet but you were so close and the hum of the TARDIS had quietened so much that he could hear you clearly. "Don't."

Was it possible for both his hearts to sink? He stared at you, tears welling up in your eyes as you gave him a painful smile.

"Don't do this," you added shakily, your arms coming up to hold yourself. Beside you, the cookie tin lay forgotten on the console. "Don't… give me hope, only to take it away. I have been strong, but I'm not strong enough for this."

"What–?" He didn't understand. You closed your eyes and took a step back, a step away from him. Something inside him fractured.

"I have loved you in silence, Doctor," you said quietly, "and I thought I did it well enough for you not to realise. But I must not have done a good enough job hiding it– you know how it is. I'm not, I'm not asking you to return my feelings. I don't expect or even hope you to. All I ask is that you forget it. Forget you know it and let me go on one more adventure with you. One last, if you can no longer bear to see my face after this. Just one–"

"Why one?" He stepped closer, covering the distance you had backed up. "Why not all of them?"

You seemed to have lost your breath as you stared at him. "Y- You mean it? I can stay? You will forget this happened?"

"No," he shook his head, hands reaching out to touch your elbows. With his eyes, he asked you for permission. You would be mad to deny it, when that's all you've wanted for so long now. "I can't forget it even if I tried to. I told you, you are something that I can't find anywhere else in all of time and space. And if you choose me, then I'm selfish enough to not let you go."

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all likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated ♡

#doctor who #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor #doctor who x reader #tenth doctor x you #ten x reader #doctor who reader insert #this is scary asf #please don't judge me based on this >< #i swear im usually better #writing for a new fandom is so so scary aaaa

[talktolwt]

I would like to focus on the music chosen for Hob Gadling's 80s sequence.

I'm extremely late to the world of The Sandman (finally binged it two weeks ago after my mother had been begging me to watch it with her and now I'm more obsessed than her) Bottom line: I'm unbelievably glad I finally watched this beautiful piece of television.

I have yet to read the comics but as for the first season, I have to say, without a doubt, my favorite episode is Chapter 6: The Sound of Her Wings. Death's 20-min segment is a beauty unto itself, but I'll be focusing on Hob's segment today. Specifically, his 80s scenes.

Considering I'm so late to this fandom and exploring all of its wondrous details and themes, excuse me if this has already been noted. I've been thinking about these details over and over but I need to get it out there in the Sandman world and hear everyone else's thoughts.

*Also excuse the terrible photos - Netflix doesn't let you screenshot and I was too lazy to get another app to let me bypass it. Please bear with my photos of my laptop screen.*

There are three songs that play throughout this sequence.

#1 - "She Drives Me Crazy" by Fine Young Cannibals

I accidentally deleted half my post mid-writing this but here I go again.

As we can see, after the breakup scene, we open up on Hob Gadling (he looks amazing in his 80s look, by the way) and this song plays.

Here are the lyrics:

I mean - where do I even start LMAO.

*Let me just give another note - regardless if you ship Dreamling romantically or not, I will be merely analyzing these lyrics as they are and how they convey Hob's feelings for Dream in general. But, I mean, the songs are THERE, the text is THERE. So do with that what you will.*

This will go for the following two songs as well, but these songs are placed with meaningful intention. Each of these offer a unique lens and dive into Hob's feelings.

I won't be annoying and over-explain anything, but the lyrics are clear I feel:

"She drives me crazy" - cough

"Things you do don't seem real" - in Hob's view, Dream literally is an enigma. Hob has no idea the capacities, the limits, and even the name of this being he meets every century.

"This waiting 'round's killing me" - well.

"Everything you say is lies" - now I wouldn't say particularly lies, but Dream does keep and omit things from Hob. Understandably, Hob would find himself in a confused limbo with Dream.

Here's the kicker:

"I won't make it on my own/No one likes to be alone." - HELLO. I mean, if this isn't the core message and pinnacle of Dream and Hob's lesson to immortality.

As Death mentions earlier in the episode, around 18:10, "Most of us will be glad for the company of a friend."

I feel I could go on forever and ever about the beauty of this episode and how well The Sound of Her Wings and Men of Good Fortune intertwine. They beautifully complement each other as stories lamenting the dichotomy of life and death, and the joys of humanity.

But essentially, Death reteaches Dream how beautiful humans can truly be, and in this pivotal moment, she says this zinger of a line. The camera was initially on Death but for THIS line, it cuts to Dream.

BECAUSE - poor Dream is definitely in need a friend.

Which is then shown to the audience by the 30-min long Hob Gadling sequence that ensues, and we see Dream's aversion to needing someone, to needing a friend.

But I digress - back to the song, and that one line about not wanting to be alone.

That is such a poignant line, because as much as Dream felt alone and needed company, so does Hob? An immortal, constantly seeing the death of others around him, his companions and family long gone, he needs someone.

Considering this 80s sequence ruminates so heavily on post-breakup feelings, Hob is missing Dream dearly. His constant in life.

I'm rambling too much, onto the next one!

#2 - "Shattered Dreams" by Johnny Hates Jazz

Time skip to perhaps a few hours later, who knows. We see Hob still waiting for Dream, alone in the pub.

Hm.

Literally what else could I say. I'm being slapped in the face with pining and angst and longing.

Here are the lyrics:

Some noteworthy lyrics:

"So much for your promises/They died the day you let me go" - this breakup man

"Caught up in a web of lies" - another lie motif

"I thought it was you/Who would stand by my side" - the theme of Dream and Hob being constants in each other's lives

"Shattered dreams" - I could scream. The title of the song. SHATTERED. DREAMS. giggling rn.

"Woke up to reality" - I think that's a very interesting line toeing between the constant references of the Waking and the Dreaming

Basically, I've been noting these evident similarities within the songs to align themselves to Dream and Hob's situation, and it's clear that the director/writers chose these songs with intent of it paralleling Dreamling.

So that makes it even more insane when lines like "From this empty heart" are meant to parallel Hob. Like.

Okay, last song.

#3 - "Keep On Moving" by Soul II Soul

This song plays as the night progresses. It's late, it's clear Dream isn't showing up, and Hob is feeling pretty final about that, and perhaps he's accepted it at this point. Dream isn't coming.

So this is where he speaks to the bartender and that scene ensues.

Here are the lyrics:

The themes of time and clocks are super prevalent within this song, and again it's once more clear how heavily this reflects and represents Hob.

Noteworthy lyrics:

"Why do people choose to live their lives this way?" - I think this also uniquely touches on the general aspect of humanity and one's reason to live/love life. Dream battles with his confusion/slight disappointment for humanity at the beginning, as he asks Death, "Why would any sensible creature crave an eternity of this?" And then Hob helps Dream realize why there's so much to live for. (24:30)

"I know the time will come today/The time will come one day"

"Walking alone in my own way" - Again this idea of walking alone and needing company.

"You'll be in my life, my life always" - Dream and Hob being constants again.

This all goes to say - Hob cares. He cares for Dream.

And I just think that's very beautiful. The magnitude with which Dream's absence means to him and how much their friendship/companionship both means to each of them. I just think their connection is a beautiful thing that I love seeing and rewatching. Wonderfully, these songs give the audience even more layered insight into this connection.

This was super long, and I apologize if I went on some tangents. But I also just couldn't help it, The Sandman is so incredibly rich in its storytelling and its connections and dynamics that I had to write this all down. I also just very much appreciate the amount of care and detail that goes into every aspect of television, and needle drops such as these three songs are no exception.

Thank you for sticking with me through this! Can't wait for season 2!

#i have more thoughts #i think i will never fully be satisfied with this post #there will always be too much to say #but wow #they CARE #there's LOVE there #genuine love #i love them #dream the endless #lord morpheus #king of dreams #hob gadling #hob #dreamling #dreamling meta #dream x hob #the sandman #music as outlets to the soul #and emotion #music #the sound of her wings #men of good fortune #i hope whoever read this enjoyed! #thank you

[snugglebugs]

KAI SMITH flip (caregiver-leaning!)

Kai Ninjago Smith is ABSOLUTELY an age regressor are you KIDDING me are you JOKING me. He is BASICALLY CANONICALLY an age regressor!!!!

> "I bet he loves being treated like a baby..." (Nya, Season 14, Episode 6, Call From The Abyss)... Yeah he does because he IS a baby. He is THE baby. He is BABY.

His entire traumatic backstory is that, after his parents were taken from him from an early age, he had to step into a parental role for his little sister and become the adult of the family while still being a child himself. He had to grow up before he even really had a chance to grow at all. On-screen, we see that once his parents return and he's no longer forced into that role of responsibility, he canonically regresses into childish habits and language we have never before seen him use or display beforehand.

"Ham and cheese sandwiches with crispy bacon? Oh thanks, Mommy! You're the best! Mm... bacon is the best, too!" (Kai, Season 14, Episode 6, Call From The Abyss).

Conclusion? Kai Smith is the most age-regressor to ever age regress ever I will not take criticism because I am OBJECTIVELY CORRECT.

Anyway!! I think Kai is regresses from 5-9~ years old. We can tell from his diction that he doesn't seem to be a baby regressor (at least in this scene), as he's capable of fully-formed sentences and has the cognitive skills required to play video games, so that leads me to believe he might be a little-middlespace regressor! Kai's parents left when he was around 5, so it makes sense he wouldn't be an infant regressor, but around the little-middle spectrum, regressing into the same range of years in which he didn't have a chance to be a child before.

I don't just think he's an age regressor, though, I also think he's a flip, too! He definitely has some care-giving tendencies built-in to him from having to be a caretaker for his little sister for so many years, and so he pretty naturally slips into the role of a big brother caregiver! I imagine he leans more towards the caregiving side then the regressing side, just because being a caregiver is what he's used to being - what he's always had to be - but that may be prone to change as he becomes more comfortable with his regression! He hates regressing around the other age regressors, especially when they're regressed, because he feels like when they're small he has to be big and adult to take care of them regardless of his own headspace. We can see his caregiver tendencies displayed in... countless interactions with Lloyd. Speaking of...

LLOYD MONTGOMERY GARMADON age regressor!

I am, once again, OBJECTIVELY correct. Lloyd is basically canonically an age regressor. He IS canonically an age regressor. He is, quite literally, a child stuck in a teenager's body -- as in he was a child and then magic age-up tea turned his body into a teenager's but still left him with the mental capacity of a child. Which is the DEFINITION of what an age regressor is!! Bodily an adult but mentally a child!! He IS an age regressor!!!!

And even if that WASN'T the case, he'd probably be an age regressor anyway, because, like. Look at him. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders since he was, like, eight, was unable to be a child because he had to endure constant rigorous training and when he WASN'T training he was undergoing countless traumatic experiences while he was still a child.

> Lloyd: "Well...The latest issue of Starfarer just came in at Doomsday Comix and it's a limited run, so if I don't go out and get it, it's going to sell out. Last they left off, intergalactic rogue Fritz Donnegan was surrounded by the Imperial Sludge, and if I don't find out if he gets out alright, I think I might have my own doomsday!" Kai: "The fate of Ninjago rests on your shoulders. As the Green Ninja, you have a giant responsibility to hold. I'm sorry, but you don't have time for such childish things." Lloyd: "Other kids get to play and have fun. All I ever do is train..." (Season 2, Episode 18, Child's Play)

I don't even think I need to argue my case that hard for why Lloyd is an age regressor. I think it'd be harder to argue why he ISN'T an age regressor, actually. TRY to argue that he's not an age regressor. TRY. I BET you CAN'T.

I don't have much evidence for this one, but I imagine he may be a pet regressor, too! He's an oni-dragon-hybrid, after all, and his heritage have proven to come with strong instincts regarding this animalistic half of his genes, as seen throughout the Oni Trilogy.

COLE BROOKSTONE caregiver!

Look at him. JUST LOOK AT HIM. The most caregiver to ever caregive ever forever. He has chronic can't-stop-adopting-children syndrome. He's adopted, like, three separate children at this point. It is becoming a problem.

"Huh? Oh, no. Don't make that face. Don't cry. Oh, I can't take it any more. Hey, look at me. Hehe. Yeah. I'm not sad. Ha-ha, I'm not crying. Oh, fine. But this is between you and me. Shine, little glow worm, glimmer glimmer. Hey there, don't get dimmer, dimmer. You like that, huh? Well, there's more where that came from. Glow, little glow worm. Glow and Glimmer—" (Cole, Season 8, Episode 5, Dead Man's Squall)

When his mentor canonically (mentally & physically) regressed into an infant his first and immediate instinct was to adopt and care for them. If that isn't agere caregiver behaviour I don't know WHAT is. HE BECAME THE FATHER TO AN INDIVIDUAL REGRESSED FROM THEIR NORMAL HEADSPACE INTO A CHILD.... HE'S LITERALLY A CAREGIVER GUYS!!!!!! I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE YOU WANT ME TO SAY!!!!!!! I AM JUST STRAIGHT-UP CORRECT!!!!!!!!!!!

JAY WALKER padded regressor!

"Jay: Aah! [He picks up a ruined stuffed toy.] Mister Cuddlywomp… [sobs] is a teddy bear I used to love when I was five, but now he's totally lame and—

Cole: We know you still sleep with him.

Jay: And I don't care who knows it! Mister Cuddlywomp..." (Season 7, Episode 6, The Attack)

Jay Walker is DEFINTELY a regressor. His personality has been noted to be very child-like and babyish at times, to the point where the fandom (and showwriters) tend to infantilize him, despite the fact that in his own right he can be a very serious character when he need be. As much as I do believe he's an age regressor, it's important to remember he can be very capable and competent character when he's big, too, and not to define him by his regression!

If he's any regressor, it's definitely a padded regressor. Throughout the show, it's become a running bit that he's a bedwetter and has a weak bladder:

"Jay: But I don't wanna get wet. I...I only have one pair of underwear.

Kai: Jay, this is no time to be making jokes. The Bounty can only take so much.

"Jay: You think I'm trying to be funny?" (Season 2, Episode 9, The Last Voyage)

"Harumi: Uh, forgive me, but is that...underwear?

Jay: We're usually more organized. Ahem. But our leader got lost in a time-stream. Uh, they're Cole's.

Cole: They're blue!

Kai: You're lucky they're not yellow." (Season 8, Episode 3, The Oni & The Dragon)

"Oh, that reminds me, Jay, honey, I need to teach you how to bleach your boxer shorts." (Maya, Season 14, Episode 7, Unsinkable)

"Jet Jack: Then tell us, who do these diapers belong to?

Kai: Oh, those are Jay's. Tell 'em, Jay.

Jay: Oh. I have a weak bladder." (Season 9, Episode 2, Iron & Stone)

These are only a few of many, many examples (You can find others throughout the show, such as in Only One Can Remain, The Darkness Remains, Darkness Within, etc), and though it's usually spun as a joke, there's no harm and shame in it! In conclusion

ZANE JULIEN caregiver!

"I was built to protect those who can't protect themselves!" (Zane, Season 3, Episode 8, The Titanium Ninja)

I don't know what else you want me to say guys... he said so himself.,,,,,,. was built to protect those who can't protect themselves...,.....

Zane's entire identity is hinged around adaptability. Though I could go on a WHOLE 'NOTHER ESSAY about Zane's relationship with identity, the point here is that he often adapts to what people need him to be! I mean, he downloaded thousands pieces of detective media onto his hardware in order to try to track down the other ninja after they went missing, if called for I imagine he could very easily slip into the role of caretaker (he WOULD download hundreds of resources on age regression to help the other ninja)!

I don't have a lot of evidence for this one beside source: bro trust me but bro. trust me. The Vibes,,,, theyre there

These are just my personal headcanons based on evidence I've gathered from the show - I am in NO WAY saying these are the only headcanons or that they are the "correct" ones!! In fact, if you have DIFFERENT headcanons for the ninja (esp. ones I didn't provide a lot of detail for), I encourage you to share them in the tags, I'd love to hear other's opinions!!!! ^^

If this gets enough interested, I might make a pt. 2, so stay tuned!!

#honestly they all probably could be regressors with how traumatized they all are..... #they ALL had their childhood stripped from them and responsibility forced onto their shoulders when they were kids #can u tell i'm normal about kai (wrote an essay for him and like a paragraph for the others) #i love all the ninja equally ok. i swear #➥ sugar speaks ˊˎ #➥ 🐝 big sugar ˊˎ #➥ headcanons ˊˎ #sfw age regression #ninjago age regression #ninjago agere #age regression #sfw agere #agere headcanons #age regression headcanons #fandom agere #agere blog #agere post #boyre #fandom age regression #ninjago kai #ninjago lloyd #ninjago jay #ninjago zane #ninjago cole #ninjago headcanons #sfw interaction only

[v0rewhxre]

Hi! Would you mind writing about how it would be dating Noah?🥰

Hello! Of course my love!

CW: Fluffy Fluff, mentions of mental health issues, a little sexual section nothing super descriptive

************************************************************************

I think dating Noah would be a wild ride. Between his growing fame, constant touring, and Bad Omen's growing success, having a relationship is not always easy.

Noah seems to be one goofy motherfucker. You'd probably have a lot of inside jokes together, things that sound really dumb to other people, but make you bust a gut together (think the BBC video (big brown chair lol)). Sometimes he says something that sounds slightly inappropriate and you both crack up laughing. Other times he's pulling silly little pranks on you or making dumb faces in serious moments.

According to Noah, he is extremely boring... I take this as he does not leave the house, and you're fine with that. You love movie nights where you binge entire seasons of anime, although you struggle during the filler episodes. You spend days reading books together, just sitting silently together in your beautiful living (designed by Noah). His love language is quality time and physical touch, so while sitting together he's always slightly touching you.

When you get to join on tour, Noah never let's you out of his sight. He's extremely protective of you because like Bad Omens, you are his baby. He's always looking at you from across the room, whether goofing around with the guys or performing in front of large crowds. Sometimes he specifically points to you when he sings certain parts of songs, letting you know that even on stage he's thinking of only you. Although Noah is very private, if a fan leaks a pic of you holding hands it doesn't bother him. He won't hide you because why would he?

It's not unknown that he has struggled with mental health issues from things in his past. I think that would make its way into the relationship a little in the sense he may need constant validation that you love him. He may have slight trust issues, but with his healing process ongoing he's learning to let go and love someone fully. You have also taught him that sometimes it's ok not to be in control.

I think Noah would be very supportive in your own wellness and growth. He would support you in your own journey of mental health. He would never push his ideologies on you, allowing you to be your own person. He's made a name for himself and he wants to support you in your dreams regardless of what they are.

As far as intimacy goes, you're very touchy as mentioned above. Nothing crazy, but you are always slightly touching or leaning into each other. Sexually you're both very compatible, trying new things to spice up your sex life but also being comfortable in just missionary. Noah is very attentive to your needs, putting you before himself. You show him that he deserves that intimacy. You worship him and make him feel wanted and loved.

Ok those are a few thoughts I had, nothing too too specific but I think it works!

Hope you like it!!!

#noah sebastian #asks #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #nick folio #bad omens

[theerurishipper]

Idk I always find it bizarre when people shocked that Marinette just let rubble and whatever fell down to Emilie's coffin just so Gabriel move to protect it as if it's smt new. Miraculous can be inconsistent with it's characterization sometimes, but not for Marinette. Her characterization is still strong and constant from s1. Her let the rubble fell to the coffin is her s1 equivalent of taking down Eiffel tower at the Mime episode or s2 when she baited anansi to punch the arc de triomphe so she'd be buried under it's rubble.

What bizzare is the amount of what Marinette destroyed is far exceed what Adrien, as the holder of desruction ever did. Chat Blanc excluded because he was akumatized while Marinette did all that intentionally.

Can't imagine just how much destruction she caused if she were the holder of black cat miraculous instead. Must be terrifying.

I feel like those other two were different because The Mime and Anansi were akumatized villains with superpowers, so they wouldn't die from that or anything, and they could defend themselves just fine. But it's not the same with Emilie Agreste. This is an innocent woman who as far as she knows wanted no part of this. This is the mother of the boy she supposedly loves and is fighting for. And she drops a whole elevator onto her body without a single second of hesitation. That's so cruel. That's awful.

This literally proves why Marinette is so unsuited for the role she occupied in the finale. She has no connection to any of this. The whole Agreste arc was built on their family drama and the emotions they have for each other. We're supposed to feel something for Emilie Agreste, regardless of her lacking presence in the story. And here comes Marinette, who cares fuck all for any of them, treating this innocent woman like a prop in her fight, literally dehumanizing her in order to get an advantage over Gabe. There's no consideration for Emilie, from the narrative or the characters. Gabriel had to be the one to save her from Marinette.

And I am a proud "Emilie Agreste was an abusive parent" truther, but that doesn't excuse this. At the end of the day, she was an innocent in Gabriel's supervillainy, and Marinette threatening her life as part of a strategy to defeat Gabe is awful. And like I said, this shows why it's so counterproductive to have her take the central role in the resolution of this conflict. We're supposed to watch Emilie's heartfelt words reach Gabriel, as if she matters, when Marinette just treated her like an object and almost killed her (not sure if she's already dead or just in a coma, but my point still stands). The emotions are all gone. Nothing matters expect Marinette being a girlboss (which is literally the stated reason for why Bug Noire happened, so that Marinette could look cool).

Like, can you imagine if Adrien was here? Could you imagine how he'd feel watching his partner who supposedly loves him using his mother as a tool to defeat his father? Could you imagine how he'd feel to see his mother's body be almost destroyed, to see his mother be killed because Ladybug wanted to beat Gabe's ass? How would it feel to see that Marinette doesn't consider his mother a person more than she thought of her as a prop to get an advantage over Gabriel?

But no, treating Emilie Agreste with any kind of dignity is secondary to letting Marinette be awesome and cool ig. Removing the character who is the emotional core of the story removes all emotion from the finale, who woulda thunk it.

Thank you for your ask!

#Meta #My meta #Asks #ML Salt #ML Writing Salt #ML Writers Salt #Marinette Salt #Ladybug Salt #S5 Finale

[you-fuckin-judas]

Young Royals : The importance of physical touch. [ P1 ]

Something I thought was so intense and important is the discussion of how Wille and Simon's relationship works, BASED on the language of physical touch.

I am a FIRM believer that both Wille AND Simon both have physical touch as their primary love language. While I agree that Simon is heavily into the words of affirmation as well, I stand by him relying on touch to display how he is feeling towards others.

Consensual Physical Touch

Something so VITAL to Wille and Simon is the agreement of touch between them, and how special that is.

Will you stay with me until I fall asleep again? [ Season 1 Episode 4 ]

This is one of my favorite moments to reference, it is a prime example of Simon expressing himself physically. He has just told Wille that he likes him as well, but in this moment, of him caressing his face and the gentle touch on his neck is when Wille really gets what Simon means, you can really see Wille react to what is actually going on. Yeah sure he SAID it but he's SHOWING it as well.

It's the way Simon is so expressive with his HANDS. If you can see what his hands are doing, odds are we know exactly how he is responding TRULY to what's going on.

Come visit me in Bjärstad sometime [ Season 1 Episode 5 ]

I almost feel like we shouldn't be here, like we shouldn't be allowed in this room with them because of how INTIMATE this moment is and how it's filmed.

Simon genuinely MELTS into Wille and his touch.

the look of consent between both of them, and how GENTLE each touch is PLUS the beautiful golden light?? ITS PERFECT.

They are genuinely so happy with each other, being in the same space. The fact that in this scene they hardly EVER break physical contact with each other speaks VOLUMES.

[shout-out to the intimacy coordinator because I cried during this one I can't lie.]

You're the only person here I can talk to.

[ Season 1 Episode 5 ]

This is one of the VERY FEW times we see Wille break down emotionally in front of Simon and really let his guard down. What is the way Simon responds? Physically. Getting up and embracing him regardless of how pissed at him he is and Wille all but basically pulls Simon into his chest cavity.

If he had just tried to console him verbally it wouldn't have had the same effect, and he knows that. It's important for Simon to respond not only in his love language but Wille's as well.

Again we see here Simon trying to ground Wille back down with very gentle calculated touch. The lack of space between them, the constant communication without speaking is VITAL to the relationship they have created.

Everything just got so messed up between us. [ Season 2 Episode 4 ]

The absolute TENSION between them in this moment is crazy, because they had not let each other get this close the entire beginning of this season because they knew if they did they really wouldn't be able to control themselves.

This is almost a test for them, to see if the other is still feeling the same. When Wille said he understands Simon doesn't love him anymore, that really set shit in motion.

They are CLINGING, CLAWING at each other almost like they need each other to breathe. The motion of Simon's thumb to Wille 's jaw to continue, the hand on the back of Simon's neck to keep him from leaving?? COME ON.

Also I want to note that Simon furrows his brow during this moment, like he needed this so bad it HURTS. He's ACHING. And you can feel it, by seeing just how much they NEED the touch of each other.

what happened? [ Season 2 Episode 5 ]

I could talk about this one until I run out of oxygen because I love it THAT MUCH. This is a memory for Simon, because he's spent MULTIPLE episodes keeping Wille's sweater close, to smell and calm back down. To keep the memory of him and being close to him but now he HAS HIM right there and he is not gonna waste that moment. To really sit in that , to cling to Wille and allow the space of consensual physical touch back into the conversation.

Again, I'm gonna mention the furrowed brow here because that's something we NEVER see whenever we are dealing with Marcus. And that is extremely important and telling on how Simon feels.

[I literally could just gif the whole scene here]

They are mirroring each other, matching each other like magnets. Responding physically, with genuine passion for each other and how much the other means without SAYING it. This scene is beautiful, and the fact the camera stays OFF them when the curtains are pulled closed?

I COULD TALK ABOUT IT UNTIL MY FACE FALLS OFF.

I will be doing another post on unwanted touch because that is VERY important as well.

#young royals #wille simon #wilmon #simon eriksson #omar rudberg #edvin ryding #young royals discussion #young royals season 2 #young royals edit #physical touch #prince wilhelm #wilhelm yr #simon yr #young royals analysis

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

Hi! Sorry if this has already been asked! I read your post on Blackbeard and remembered I wanted to ask you about this. What are your views on the upcoming One Piece remake and their aim to cut the series down enough to be a seasonal anime like Demon Slayer or Jujutsu? Also, if you've seen the live action for One Piece, what are your thoughts on it?

i will say that for me, adaptations of one piece generally don't hold much interest or emotional weight, because the manga will always be the truest version of the story to me. i think it's cool if more good work based on it is made! but i tend to feel pretty ambivalent about this sort of thing. i don't even watch the anime most of the time.

i've only seen the first half of the live action, i still need to find time with friends to watch the remaining four episodes, but i did enjoy it! it's certainly a distinct work from the manga and needs to be watched without expecting it to be an especially loyal adaptation, but i had fun regardless. there were choices i really liked (i was a HUGE fan of the reworking of syrup village) and choices i didn't (garp's characterization and the rushing of coby's storyline, from what i saw of it, rubbed me the wrong way). it does kinda feel like it will fall apart if they try to continue too far past this point, given the changes that have been made.

i don't feel that we know enough about the anime remake at this point to make any assumptions about whether it'll be good or not. it is the sort of thing i've idly wanted for awhile- i think anime adaptations fare far better when they're allowed to be constructed in seasons rather than as a constant weekly output, as one piece as been- but i'm not getting my hopes up, i feel quite skeptical at the moment until we know more.

#jonny answers #not japanese #one piece

[freesia-writes]

Lil Life Update for Y'all <3

I've been a lil cryptic or back-n-forth, I think, and just wanted to share a little bit about what's been going on. I say it's not for attention but who knows what motives lurk under there, LOL. It's mostly because I love you all and want to let you in, also hope that it's encouraging or connective for anyone else who's experienced the same, and also I just miss the community I have sooooo loved here. 🥹

I'm a 34yo female with 2 kids aged 4 and 7. I had depression like crazy during and after my second pregnancy especially. In Aug 2021, my primary doc suggested I try something like Zoloft since I'd been complaining of irritability, no capacity, constant worry, and other anxiety symptoms. When I did feel some relief and felt encouraged that I could "feel like myself" again, I pursued solutions for other issues I was noticing. Over the last year and a half, it's been quite a ride. ADHD symptoms led to Adderall for 4 days, then Wellbutrin for a few months, then Buspar for a few months, then Strattera (tapering up and then back down) for about 3 months, then Ritalin for 1 month, which I thought was helping until we realized that the entire month of October was basically an increasingly manic episode.

Whew.

We're talkin 2007 Britney here (ok I didn't shave it but I cut my hair off into a pixie). Spent thousands on a new wardrobe of the "dark academia" style. Bought Disneyland tickets. Invested in a photography mentorship. So much energy and inspiration. Then we realized it was getting out of hand.

I had also been tapering off a lot of the meds over the last two months, so it was just a crazy cocktail of chemicals that made my brain finally go kaput. I finished the last dose of Zoloft on November 5th, and that was the last of the meds, so now I'm off everything. My therapist thought the mania was medication-induced due to all the changes plus the addition of the stimulant, so the goal was to try to allow everything to settle down and see what "baseline" is for me right now.

And it has been frickin HARD.

Cervical vertigo. All-or-nothing sleep and appetite. Extreme sensory sensitivity. Random itchiness. Racing mind. Total inability to focus. And the worst part has been the mood swings.

I'm basically having all the symptoms of bipolar disorder in a rapid-cycle format. It may be cyclothymia, or it may be the withdrawal effects from all the meds, but regardless... It's been quite the roller coaster. The nerd in me has been fascinated by the experiential knowledge of it all, since I majored in Psychology and have always loved learning about it, but the overall negative effects on me and my family have been difficult.

I'm someone who has always relied completely on being highly capable and in control. I find my worth in my productivity and competence. And it has caused increasing stress throughout my life. I've been praying for years that God would break me of it, and I can see how he is using this to do precisely that -- lovingly trying to answer my request to be freed of this relentless pursuit of the illusion of control. He's inviting me to simple, joyful life of trust. The perspective shift is so freeing when I realize that I don't need to have it all figured out because he already does, and I can just rest in his loving guidance and look to him for the next step instead of trying to plan out every possible outcome and strategy. I went on a reflective retreat in the Santa Cruz mountains and just felt so encouraged and loved in the way he invited me to let my shoulders down and to ground myself in his warm provision and care.

But the change doesn't happen overnight.

So in the middle of a total storm of bipolar symptoms -- days of mania followed by days of depressive episodes and being so new at it all that I don't know how to navigate "normal life" with all of that -- I'm also trying to rewire 34 years' worth of the way I think and act. BUT it's a blessedly simple process: the only thing I have to worry about is this moment. I can't affect the future or the past. So all I have is right now, and I can turn to God for guidance, encouragement, insight, or anything I need in this moment, and he is so faithful to give it. But man, it's easy to forget. ;)

Literally me with that right now, trying to figure it all out on my own before I remember I can't and don't need to:

Anyway, this got LONG, surprise surprise, but I've always enjoyed being vulnerable for the sake of connection and potential encouragement. And selfishly, I'd LOVE to hear from any of you who may have had similar experiences. Right now the fixation of my [very limited] capacity is on my photography business, but I've been feeling drawn to writing more and more, and have attempted a lil drabble here and there. So I'm just patiently waiting for the inspiration to return. :)

I have so appreciated the love from you all. I also haven't been as active with reading/reblogging/supporting/etc as I was, and that's just where I'm at right now, but please know that my heart is with you even if my brain is not, LOL.

If you made it this far, you get a gold star. Or a Howzer hug. Or somethin. :)

#freesia writes #mental health monday #just another manic monday #jk today was depressive

[lightwise]

TBB S3 E4 Recap and Reaction

- Poor Crosshair keeps getting stuck on cold planets.

- Batcher banging on the chair ready to get out 🤣🤣

- These shuttles are really interesting to me. It’s rare to see a ship that size that can be piloted by two different people.

- Baby girl, I totally understand your logic in wanting to pull the data logs to see where Tantiss actually is, but given how tactful we know Hemlock has been so far in keeping his location hidden, most likely it wouldn’t pull up anything.

- What a dreary spaceport. Feels very Andor and very like Norwegian Star Wars.

- The level of snark that Omega is giving back to Crosshair is cracking me up. We don’t see her showing this level of talking back or being sarcastic with any of the other Batchers, which proves my theory that Crosshair’s constant level of highly annoyed at everything around him brings out the sarcasm in everyone else he encounters.

- Love that his knowledge as a former imperial is coming to play to help them.

- Also love that Omega was the one to recognize that they need different clothes (and the obvious pan of the camera on the clothes hanging on the line in the first shot of the spaceport to accentuate that fact).

- Quilted clothes in Star Wars is my fave (yes more Andor parallels).

- The uplilt and little scoff that Omega gives and the look she gives Batcher after Crosshair snarls about bringing “the hound” along is PRECIOUS

- Also Cross and Omega cross their arms the same way. Okay okay I’ll never be over their dynamic here.

- Crosshair’s trucker hat/scuba apparatus is hilarious. He doesn’t look too bad though. Surely he’s at least warmer now.

- The credits negotiation omg. I love how Cross is just waiting for this to play out before he makes a move.

- YES omg are my baby girls strategy skills FINALLY coming back into play??

- Oh no no no no no this kid is going to rat them out isn’t he. You guys need to be more mindful of your surroundings!! Ahhh (okay I’m glad this didn’t happen).

- Honestly at this point Crosshair would be me as well. Just lots of very annoyed sighing.

- I love that Crosshair is getting to see all the things about Omega that the other boys know already, but he hasn’t had a chance to witness yet. We know she can wipe the floor with most people on strategy games/gambling.

- Yep nope this captain is not good news. Don’t get distracted by ranting about Imperial bribery, don’t do it, don’t….*sigh* I hate the Empire so much.

- Oh no this is so bad! I swear WHY is every imperial such a slimy self aggrandizing POS.

- Aww Crossy hunched down at almost table level ready to tear the room apart if anyone touches his baby sister. Adorable murder kitten. 😸

- Also Crosshair when all of this is over: where the HELL did you learn to gamble like that!?! Omega: 🤷🏻‍♀️😇😁

- Also also what game are they playing? Those cards are beautiful.

- Oh no they’ve found the shuttle already. Dear god this episode is so stressful!!

- CROSS!DAD IS OFFICIALLY CANON lmao

- Okay I was hoping Omega would let him win bc this isn’t going to go over well

- Whoa I didn’t actually expect him to concede. Maybe he’s not quite as slimy as I thought. Doesn’t matter though, the shuttle will give them away regardless.

- Of course. There it is. Let all the seedy businesses thrive as long as you get your fine out of it. Ugh. This is paralleling a lot of imperial activities in Rebel Rising and the Ahsoka novel as well.

- I also love how Omega uses touch with Crosshair to calm him down and communicate with him.

- Whoa I did not expect Omega to throw the credits and basically give Crosshair the choice of abandoning her or not. Nor for him to actually have to think about it for a moment.

- “My skills are being wasted” the boy does not like feeling helpless. I understand.

- This is going to give Cross some understanding of what Hunter has been going through the last few years. Especially if he ends up losing her.

- “Don’t push it” and the extra head shake after lmao.

- Geez this man is just lining his pockets every which way isn’t he. Despicable.

- “Alright, let’s try things your way” “Finally” I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

- Animal stampede!

- Oh gosh is Cross going to get left behind??

- Aw he finally called her Batcher.

- We are clearly seeing how much Omega has actually been tempered by the rest of the Batchers being around her until now. The unfiltered combined powers of Omega and Crosshair at their most unhinged is maybe more than the galaxy is ready for 🤣🤣

- Also a very Andor reference with the captain being stampeded almost to death and having his gun kicked away from him in the melee

- NO WAY WE FINALLY GET AN IMPERIAL GETTING THEIR DUE BY CREATURE DEATH once again *cough cough* not a kids show

- Awwww Batcher licking Crosshair’s face. He’s so done for.

- They got away. Wow. I actually wasn’t expecting that. And with most of the money too.

- Okay. Smart girl. She did not pick Pabu.

- What an ending. Wow. So. Similar to Mando season 3 (which is also scaring me) — what the heck is the rest of this season going to be about?

- This reunion is everything. 🥹🥹🥹 the hugs. The running. The tears. The worry. The anger. The hesitation. The fear. The literal and metaphorical distance between their ships that someone will have to cross. They better not fast forward a millisecond when the next episode picks up I swear.

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #tbb season 3 spoilers #tbb season 3 #tbb spoilers #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3

[vibke]

My holidays are over, now I won't have that much time to draw (TヘT)

However, because of that i decided to post some more accurate information about how the Vanilla's new physiology works, since before that there were only some interesting facts. Here is the same pic but with silly notes (ノ*°▽°*)

Sooooo, what the hell has happen?

Basically,

Shadow Milk cookie infused a substantial amount of his life magic into Pure Vanilla cookie, fundamentally transforming his essence to mirror that of milk itself, establishing a familial connection between them. Milk, being a pristine wellspring of vital energy, sustains himself internally without the need for external sources, unlike Vanilla, who must assimilate the life force of other cookies to thrive. This absorption can only be achieved by consuming another cookie alive, with the intensity of their suffering directly correlating to the energy garnered.

The constant expenditure of this vital energy is essential for Vanilla's survival, yet it can also be deliberately harnessed for magical purposes. Also existing in the physical realm demands a higher energy expenditure compared to the void. Vanilla feels hungry all the time, regardless of the energy level. Despite the persistent gnawing hunger, Vanilla exercises restraint, indulging in consumption only as a last resort when energy levels dwindle perilously low.

When the energy level reaches this point or when grievously wounded, Vanilla's sanity unravels, plunging him into a frenzied state where he indiscriminately attacks and devours any cookie in sight, save for Milk. Even at maximum energy capacity, this ravenous frenzy persists, transforming Vanilla into a feral being devoid of speech, reveling in the carnage and suffering inflicted upon others. Respite from this state is only achieved once energy peaks and no viable targets remain for consumption.

However, a glimmer of hope resides in Lily's voice, capable of momentarily grounding Vanilla and averting complete loss of control, hinting at a potential emotional tether that may offer salvation. The preservation of memory and knowledge during these frenzied episodes contrasts starkly with the loss of coherent communication, replaced by primal vocalizations akin to predatory animals.

Taking all this into account, Vanilla's main goal is to prevent loss of sanity. If, even in a wild state, Vanilla cannot find and eat anyone, or if he is killed, then his physical shell will collapse. However, the symbiotic relationship between Vanilla and Milk ensures their physical shells can regenerate using the vital energy of the other upon destruction, rendering their demise nearly impossible. This makes the destruction of each of them almost impossible, since they both have to be killed within a fairly short period of time. Milk as a whole is not set up to lose, and Vanilla enters a state of savagery when seriously injured, so you need to try hard to kill two at once. Vanilla predominantly resides in the void, emerging sporadically to hunt in the outside world to conserve energy, while Milk adopts a congenial demeanor, advocating for joint dominance in the world, a proposition Vanilla resists.

The psychological toll of wanton violence and senseless slaughter weighs heavily on Vanilla, compelling compliance in the face of Milk's dominance, exacerbated by the threat of descending into unrestrained savagery when resisting. The trauma inflicted by brutal acts of violence reinforces Vanilla's obedience, believing himself unworthy and trapped in a cycle of submission.

#pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla crk #cookie run #crk #crk fanart #shadow milk crk #cookie run fanart #shadow milk cookie #white lily cookie #writing #omg #I'm a little scared to realize that this is just the beginning and only a small part of the whole plot #hope you enjoy

[frazzledsoul]

Probably preaching to the choir here, but I find the constant revisionism regarding Christopher Hayden's sporadic attempts at fatherhood rather frustrating.

I often see his fans argue that Lorelai "kept Rory away from him and refused to let him participate" and that "she made it uncomfortable for him." But did she? She declined his marriage proposal because he was uninterested in Rory from the beginning. She left home and moved thirty minutes away, worked her way up to a middle-class life, and made it clear he was free to do whatever the fuck he wanted. We're told he calls Rory every week (I find this unconvincing, but whatever), he sees her on holidays, he knows how to find Rory and Lorelai when he finally visits them 14-15 years after they move there. It sure doesn't sound like Lorelai hid her away and didn't tell Christopher where they lived or refused to allow him to visit her. Not to mention that we are explicitly told in season 1 that she's "always held the door open to her, you just never wanted to use it" and he agrees.

The other thing she tells Rory in that S1 episode is that "he's going to come and go as he pleases, hon, you know that." Contrary to the belief that she kept Rory away from him, she actually is super accommodating any time he wants to show up and contribute and she never rebukes him for all the times he didn't feel like it. She doesn't appear to ever ask him for money or criticize him for being a bad dad and of course, she keeps sleeping with him any time he does anything half-decent. She's raised Rory to think that it's inevitable he's going to treat them like crap and only show up when it's convenient for him and that they can never be mad at him or hold it against him because she didn't marry him when he offered so long ago. The idea that he had a responsibility to Rory regardless of whether Lorelai was willing to be in a relationship with him is not a reality in their world. It doesn't help that both sets of grandparents seem to blame the entire situation on Lorelai and don't expect Christopher to contribute in any way.

And of course, Christopher doesn't really care about Rory. He's mostly eager to act like a dad when there are cracks in Lorelai's relationship with Luke and he senses an opportunity to get in her pants (he usually succeeds at this). Once that opportunity goes away, he disappears. He drops out of Rory's life once Gigi is born. He doesn't appear to be in contact with her after he and Lorelai divorce until it's time for her graduation. After Lorelai stops talking to him once she reconciles with Luke in the post-OS period, he stops talking to Rory, too. Even the offer to pay for the second half of Rory's college education only comes when he inherits a bunch of money he didn't earn and offers to buy *Lorelai* anything she wants until Rory reorients his offer towards something practical. Rory is a means to get to Lorelai and not much more. And of course, we know from AYITL that he sends Gigi away to her mother eventually as well, giving up on her too.

This is not to say that Lorelai always behaves perfectly. She avoids telling Rory about Christopher requesting to make holiday plans with her for a few days and she does a lot to poison Rory against Christopher/Sherry in S3 because SHE'S mad at him for rejecting her and Rory feels she has to take her side. Still, I don't feel this is equal to all of Christopher's neglect and at any rate Rory is a big girl now, a legal adult, and can develop a relationship with her dad beyond her mom if she wants. Christopher doesn't appear to be terribly interested.

(Oh, and the aforementioned S2/S3 behavior is why you shouldn't be best friends with your daughter, as it's inevitable that your hurt feelings will get in the way of what's best for her and her relationship, however frayed, with her other parent. That is another topic, though).

In the end, all this does have a profound effect on Rory. She's often submissive in her relationships (especially with Dean) and lets problems fester instead of dealing with them because that's what's been modeled for her. She also regularly cheats with old boyfriends because her parents taught her that you always have a claim on your first love and that overrides whatever commitment you're currently making. And of course, in the AYITL era she seems to have copied his life patterns a bit too much, as she's got no real incentive to change at this point.

Lorelai wasn't too hard on him. She was way too easy on him and put up with too much of his shit over the years, and that had its own reverberations. Both Lorelai and Rory should have been allowed to be angry at him for his neglect. It never happened.

#unoriginal thoughts #anti christopher hayden #lorelai gilmore #rory gilmore #gilmore girls

[kanansdume]

I don't want ANYONE to tell me that this season is still Din Djarin's storyline lol. I know I said I wanted Din to have an episode or two stolen the way he stole from TBOBF, but boy howdy was THIS not what I meant.

What is the POINT of portraying the New Republic as completely phony and farcical to the point of being just as bad as the Empire? What kind of message does it send that the government Leia Organa and Mon Mothma and the Rebel Alliance helped create and put in place is a place that will dehumanize people to the point of stripping them of their names and torturing them in the name of the greater good? A government we know gets destroyed by the First Order in the Sequel Trilogy, no less. Are we supposed to think that was a GOOD thing, because I don't recall being told to cheer for the First Order at the time?

What kind of message does this send? Yes, the old Republic from the Prequel Trilogy was corrupt, but a major element to that is that it COULD'VE BEEN SAVED. It was NOT beyond the point of no return until it became an Empire. The Republic falling to the Empire is still supposed to be SAD and a major downgrade that nearly destroys the galaxy, which is why they spend the next trilogy working to take down the Empire in order to re-instate a democratic Republic. What does it say if we're supposed to believe that that new democratic government is basically just... still the Empire? Nothing's changed? Is the First Order truly that bad if the New Republic is no worse anyway? What are we supposed to do now that the First Order is gone? Is there any point to trying to make yet ANOTHER democratic Republic? Will the New New Republic, the New Republic: Electric Boogaloo if you will, be any better than its predecessor or will it ALSO just... be equally as bad? Is there any hope for the future at this point or is the galaxy just going to now be in a constant cycle of different variations on evil corrupt systems?

It feels SO defeatist. What is even left to FIGHT for? And what does this even have to DO with Mandalore, when we know that canonically they can't do ANYTHING? Regardless of what happens with Mandalore, it has zero impact on the events of the Sequel Trilogy. They don't save the New Republic, if they even care about it. The First Order doesn't appear to have any real interest in Mandalore, or what's left of it within what we get to see in the Sequel Trilogy. So how do these stories even connect from this point and what is their impact on each other and what are we supposed to take from it?

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season 3 #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian s3 #the mandalorian season 3 spoilers #the mandalorian s3 spoilers #mando s3 #mando s3 spoilers