#and pander to the ignorance of these people

[cyanorhis]

In terms of “canon-compliant” zutara, I think often about how Zuko’s development is both his redemption and his doom.

Because how come the obsessive go-getter of the show does not fight harder against fate (bryke’s annoying ass) to save his beloved from putting herself into a rewardless martyr-like situation in the form of a marriage that serves as repopulation program? (Which I always thought was ridiculous).

He learns bit by bit to acknowledge and make up for his mistakes. He respects Katara above all else. He fights fair. He does not guilt-trip her nor treat her like a reward. He loves her. He gave his life for her. He would not have survived had she not been the exceptional person she is. He supports her decisions no matter what. He listens to her.

So when she tells him about her ridiculously good and selfish intentions of pandering (once again) to a non-celibate Monk who wishes to have her mother his children for the sake of airbending and his supposed affection that was born out of the self-insert of narrators who give way too much importance to childhood crushes for one’s babysitter, he might argue but he can’t help but love her and respect her decision, both horrified by the cruelty of fate (aka bryke) and filled with admiration for the person she has always been.

If Orpheus loved Eurydice too much not to turn back when she tripped behind him, then Zuko loved Katara way too much not to validate and support her terribly selfless decisions. Because how dare him be selfish and want her for himself. And how dare him tell her what to do after years of war.

It is terribly tragic because on the other side, a part of her wishes he had fought harder.

A “villain” turned “hero” sometimes can mean the upholding of ideals made by two men who enjoy shaming young girls for their choice of love interest. Sometimes, the lack of a “villain” to whisk away the princess from the “hero’s” hands means said princess will remain unacknowledged and forgotten in a narrative that turns it into something of her own volition, a narrative that ignores everything a beloved female character represented for the people she was made to represent (by their own words, must I say). It leaves the realm of picking the love interest (which honestly could simply not ever happened in any form and would still be better than this) and enters the realm of once again giving a poor treatment to a female main character who quite literally Drives the story from its beginning.

And just like Orpheus and Eurydice are doomed by fate, Katara and Zuko are doomed by Bryke. And surprisingly, Katara gets the worse of it.

[nohkalikai]

every day i say i won't talk abt how i've made sense of my identity with upper caste hindus and every day i do it anyway

[eff-plays]

AA wives: Astarion's asshole is the wrong color!! My self-insert would never eat his ass if that were this color. You're not letting me roleplay eating Astarion's ass even a little bit. This isn't a roleplaying game anymore it's a morality simulator. You're forcing morality into the game by making a point about only eating a certain color of ass. Also you're kinkshaming me so much. I'm an adult. I will harass you about this until you give in.

Larian, on their hands and knees wearing a dog collar: Yes ma'am right away ma'am please send us the exact hex code of the color you want it to be and we will change it posthaste

[fromtheseventhhell]

Zutaras are really the original self-insert, "we understand the story soooooo much better than everybody else" girlies and they just never moved on

[a-really-bad-decision]

The fallout show isn’t NOT anticapitalist, but it’s anticapitalist in that way that a lot of recent media goes for, where it makes vague gestures towards ideas like ‘There Is Wealth Inequality, Perhaps’, or ‘maybe a few dozen people having more money than god Isn’t A Good Thing, Actually’. But ultimately it kinda just tiptoes around commenting on anything systemic by offloading the blame onto its shadowy cabal of the ultra-rich, and turning the wastelander underclass into a constant running joke that the audience is expected to laugh along at. Which like. Fine. That’s honestly more than I was expecting I guess. But bad-appling fallout feels like missing the point extra hard, given how much it absolves the US of its role in everything, up to and including literal nuclear armageddon

[frumfrumfroo]

Hey, this is The Acolyte Reylo Dynamic anon again. I haven’t seen the show but I saw people raving about it on Twitter. So the dynamic appears to be between Amandla Stenbergs character and the villain revealed to be played by Manny Jacinto. Both have good chemistry from the 2 second gif I saw, but I expect NOTHING good to come out of this. And when they played Kylo’s theme they straight up played it. They were even trying to be subtle about it.

I know absolutely nothing about the show, the only thing I've seen is like two screencaps of the villain guy. And he is indeed hot except for that tragic moustache, but no man has ever been hot enough that I would forget about tros.

[jankwritten]

i think one of my biggest gripes with TSATS is the sentence structure and the way that things are phrased.

Sentence structure: the book is CONSTANTLY using ", and", or "then", or "but" instead of splitting up a phrase into two separate sentences. Once I noticed it, I couldn't stop noticing it. In some places it works fine, but right out the gate, as the first line of chapter one, it 1) caught my attention in a negative way and 2) felt immediately clunky and awkward.

The way that the book demonstrates action also feels unnatural and doesn't flow as well as it could. Things are described as happening "now", such as when Kayla takes her lolipop out of her mouth and holds it at her side, the book narrates it as "now holding the lolipop at her side". We didn't SEE that action occur, we're just being described the RESULT of the action, does that make sense? As a reader, you want to SEE the action, you want to SEE her tug the lolipop out of her mouth, see her hand hang by her side as her expression pinches with anxiety over the discussion. We don't want to just be told that "now" her lolipop is out of her mouth, y'know?

There are also sentences that just feel flat out unedited, phrases that have too many words for what they want to accomplish, or with a structure that doesn't make sense - like on page 56, the sentence "They raced up the steps to the platform, Nico easily outrunning his boyfriend, though that was mostly due to Will having to get his land legs again."

First of all - why are they running up the platform? In the previous line, where we're told their cab driver got them to the station with 6 minutes to spare, the specific choice of saying "to spare" makes it sound like there is plenty of time to make it to their train. In the sentences after, we even learn that Nico and Will wound up waiting for their train anyway, so, the fact that they're running when Will feels sick reads...weird, to me. If I was car sick, and then somebody forced me to run for no reason, I would not be a happy camper.

Second of all - The addition of the final third of the sentence, after the second comma, should be it's own phrase. It should be given it's own space, like "(though that was mostly because Will didn't have his land legs back yet)." because it's not important information, just an offhanded comment Nico is making.

Third of all - "though that was mostly due to" and "having to get his" are clunky and wordy. It could've just been "Nico easily outrunning his boyfriend, who didn't have his land legs back yet." It's a smoother sentence that doesn't get bogged down by the extra words.

And that's just one instance. This book is LOADED with moments like this, where action will get lost in a sentence's wordiness. The book tries to be quick and snappy, in Riordan's style, but it fails because it can't quite nail down the phrasing.

There are also moments where the only thing the characters are interacting with is each other, only grinning, grimacing, sighing, glancing at one another, etc etc, instead of doing actions while they speak. Fidgeting with their hands, shifting from side to side, looking away at their surroundings, that kind of stuff is how you convey a MOOD. Body language is important when writing character conversations!! Is somebody relaxed, or are their shoulders tensed up, arms folded across their chest with their muscles flexed, leaning back on one leg with their body halfway tilted away, as if they were ready to flee at a moment's notice? These are the kind of details that I'm missing in TSATS, the kind of things that feel like they're missing.

I also have a lot of gripes with the dialogue itself.

People don't talk like they do in TSATS. The content of what they're saying is realistic enough, sure, yeah, but the specific way that a lot of the dialogue is phrased? It doesn't feel natural. Try reading some of the sentences out loud without editing any of the words. It doesn't sound the way a human being SPEAKS.

THAT'S what I mean when I say these characters are OOC. The way that they're speaking is uncomfortable and feels as if they're being used as a puppet, or a mouthpiece for what somebody ELSE wants them to say.

[prettyvintageafternoon]

People are really out here defending Candace Owens for criticizing Israel and it is insane to me. No, criticizing Israel - particularly in this moment where Palestinians are being killed in the most brutal of ways, is not wrong. But that's not why this lady is criticizing Israel.

However, this is the same woman who said Hitler was only bad because he wanted to expand beyond Germany and who openly supported a president who campaigned on fighting "radical Islamic terror" just a few years ago. This lady is not concerned about preserving international peace or defending Palestinians or Muslims, and neither are the other conservatives who are criticizing Israel, like Tucker Carlson - who also has a history of making bigoted comments regarding Muslims and Islam.

These people are only criticizing Israel now because they recognize that there is a growing schism within American politics because of America's relationship with Israel, which has split the conservative side into two groups - conservatives who support Israel because of concerns around American national defense, religion and 'supporting Jewish people' and conservatives who don't support Israel because they associate the existence of Israel with the existence of Jewish people in general...and they really don't like Jewish people.

People like Candace Owens, and other far-right conservatives personalities speak more to that second group.

It's also a growing part of the conservative view on foreign policy to criticize any foreign aid, even despite the reasons why that foreign aid is being given, as seen with American foreign aid to Ukraine.

[biowho]

As a queer person, it's so wonderful to see the dev team for Veilguard, a lot of whom have been with DA since the beginning of Origins, feel comfortable enough to say that they're a part of my family

Trick telling us that their name is Trick. Corinne not needing to hide that she's a woman. Solas' VA Gareth using he/they and Neve's VA Jessica using she/they. The amount of out non-binary people involved with this project to begin with was frankly unthinkable for the majority of AAA games to me. And here's the absolute legend that is BioWare going 'no we don't need to hide who our crew is to pander to a larger consumer audience' and I'm so happy and proud of that

The majority of people out there who are going to play Dragon Age are cis straight men who don't think about us all that often and unfortunately, a sizable amount of them that do have negative intentions and aren't kind people. I've skimmed through Reddit and Twitter and there's a lot of Gamer Bros that are mad about the queerness involved within Veilguard and it worries me

It's no secret that I'm not the best with words, and I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. But the coming months up to and after the game is released, we gotta be kind to one another and correct folks who aren't speaking out of malicious intent and ignore the ones that are

I feel like as fans of the series, we owe it to the dev team to support them anyway we can and a great way to do that is by calling Trick Trick and referring to Erika as he just as often as she and everyone else by who they are. Which is so damn easy to do and the bare minimum but unfortunately a lot of people who are going to buy the game put their hatred above respect. Our love needs to be louder

[vyorei]

We've been furious here on the island regarding almost all the politicians leaving to pander to a genocidal administration.

I humbly request that when you see those fools shaming us abroad to remember that they have expressly ignored the will of the people. We marched in our hundreds of thousands for weeks and still they ignore our every request.

Ireland stands with Palestine always, those stooges from the Dáil do not represent us and will be removed in the upcoming General Election. They needed their last free holiday on the taxpayer given they'll never have power again.

If you are to engage in the festivities this weekend I request you utilise the black shamrock, and not the green. That is what we're doing here.

Saoirse don Phalaistín. 🇵🇸✊🇮🇪

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Yep, It's Just Practically Official The Makers Just See Octavia As Manipulative Emotional Tool To Make Stolas Look Good And Disregard Her When She Gets In The Way Of Their Treasured Ship

This is supposed to be a joke, but in execution we all now Octavia at this point is just a tool to make Stolas look like a "good" dad when in practice he's putting Blitzo over her so much that it's not funny. Wasn't one of Octavia's fears is that her father will abandon her in order to pursue Blitzo.

With that comment that Brandon Rogers did it just confirms to me that at this point they are putting Stolitz so much over everything else that yes even Octavia is seen as an obstacle even though a parent's child should be more important than their booty call. And the fandom and the creators prioritize the other way around.

Seriously, in "Seeing Stars" we see him again neglect her when she wanted to keep his promise to see the stars. Also despite saying it's important to find her he slows down to watch his boy toy perform. In other words, he's all false words until next time when he breaks a promise or continues to be a lackluster dad. But we are supposed to give him slack because he's supposed to be trying hard or again invoking Stella in order to make him look good. Boy can barely do the bare minimum for his daughter without messing up and looking like a selfish pos.

And people want to point to this line as a sign of how much he loves Octavia, but again like everything else it's emotional manipulative bs when you realize in practice he has all of the power and could more easily break up. Sure, it would have be a shock to a young child but since Octavia is born he could have just packed up and kicked her ass rather than wallow in his self-pity while finally getting with his imp toy. Stella was made an obstacle from the start so that we would feel less sorry when he was cheating on her with Blitzo. However, it gets less sympathetic when we see how it affects Octavia and it makes him come across as a selfish asshole. At first the first season was condemning them, but nope season 2 basically makes him sad misunderstood woobie who can't do no wrong including ignore his daughter in favor of focusing on Blitzo.

It's funny that Loona isn't joked as an obstacle to Stolitz like Octavia is. It's probably because Octavia grew up with a married family and again doesn't like ramifications that come with the changes. One of them includes the fact that her father only pays attention to his crush while putting her on the backburner. And again despite the fandom saying Octavia and Blitzo would get along this joke panders to the idea that squashes it if Blitzo sees her as an obstacle to their relationship. And you know if it was the other way around Blitzo would be furious anyone would see Looney as an obstacle. And so would Stolas, but we know that in actual practice he would choose prioritizing Blitzo over his daughter and the narrative will say other wise.

[zahri-melitor]

What can you infer about the editorial meddling Young Justice went through?

Oh god. It’s like the old quote about pornography: you know it when you see it. Spend enough time reading comics and you can just tell.

Notable problems with the Young Justice 2019 run that smack of interference:

You can really tell there was external pressure to include Steph in the run and that she was not originally intended to join the team or appear any further than occasional cameos such as the flashbacks at the Hall of Justice as a link to Tim’s final scene in Tynion’s Tec run. Structurally her story makes no sense whatsoever for how to put a plot together. Steph’s not an original Young Justice character, the run already was supporting two new female characters plus a reboot of Amethyst introducing Amy to a new generation, even before we look at the crossovers from other titles in the imprint. The fact they ended up throwing in a single issue entirely about 'what Steph has been up to and her fight against Cluemaster' in the last section of the run makes it even worse, as that was valuable page time wasted pandering that could and should have been used to give Jinny Hex or Keli Quintela more development.

The entire ‘Drake’ situation, which for a costume change had very little build up, was under-designed, and then disappeared with Tim back in the Robin costume between two panels. It was a test balloon from someone that was comprehensively shot down by some mix of the fandom and editorial, and I remain convinced that DC is gunshy about a new costume and identity for Tim all the way up to the present day because of how badly it was handled.

It was being used as the anchor for Wonder Comics, leading to the required mega crossover (that also spilled over into Bendis’ Action Comics to give it some more space), putting even more pressure on the title to be telling a big crossover story when it was still trying to re-establish “your favourites are back” and suggesting potentially expanding the Young Justice lineup out to around thirteen characters, a massively oversized team that the title was not set up to handle.

Lost in the Multiverse was where the story started to get bogged down by being pulled in too many directions by expectations.

It’s also super telling that the last third of the book got turned over to essentially doing one-shot character pieces about the Core Four, the last defence of a run that can see cancellation coming and doesn’t feel confident launching a new story arc they don’t expect to get to finish. Some of this stuff was clearly background character work they would have preferred to have dripped out over a longer run.

Also I know I’m repeating myself, but having the Tim piece focus on Steph mostly, in the frame of Tim and Steph’s relationship? That’s not where I’d be spending my time when looking at Tim Drake in the focus of Young Justice. How he’s coping with his returned memories of having two or three different lives now? Thinking about what ‘Tell Conner you’re sorry’ means? Discussion about his feelings in terms of moving on from being Robin or not? Nah let’s talk about Steph's problems with her dad instead. That’s not a natural fit compared to what everyone else got and does not follow from any of the preceding story.

Still ropeable that the whole set of storylines about regained memories and alternate timelines doesn’t get to intersect with Lois Lane (which spoilers but also is committed to storytelling about ‘people have memories of other places bleeding through’ prior to the full Infinite Frontier retcon) or explore how those memories change things for Tim, Bart or Cassie (Kon at least does get a story about reconnecting in Action).

And that’s just off the top of my head, ignoring any of the more subtle signs.

I love Young Justice 2019. It is a run that adores Bart, Kon, Cassie and Tim (and particularly Bart. I cannot explain to you how much this story adores Bart if you’ve never read it) and the opening 6 issues make me feel warm and fuzzy every time I read them in terms of how cleverly it works to explain how we get everything back. There are clever subtle moments in the text that give a lot more depth to the story that are implied rather than spelled out: how Cassie suddenly remembers Bart when Bart comes near her, suggesting that her returned memories are a Speed Force side effect from being a lightning rod to Bart; Cassie and Tim sense Kon using TTK and recognise it as familiar, something the new characters cannot; the fakeout in the art where when Tim’s memories are restored, he sees Cissie in his memories, but unless you know the exact YJ98 page being referenced you’d think it was Steph; etc.

But gosh it would have been so much better if it had not been required to devote so much page time to crossovers and to pandering to fans, among other elements.

[princessbrunette]

rafe taking care of the gf while she’s on her pms days <33

this makes me wanna cry bc i literally got my period today n was in sm pain all day hence my inactivity 😵‍💫

idk if it’s just me, but being on my period makes me feel so helpless n subby and like …… i just need to be babied and cared for !!!!

★⌒ヽ(´ ❥ `)

being like that with rafe could be a lot of things— depending on how busy he is. he’s clingy, and has a funny way of showing it so he might drag you out with him to barry’s house, and you actually agree because the cramps haven’t fully hit you yet so you think you can handle it. but whilst you’re there, the aches and pains hit you like a sack of bricks whilst you’re sat on the couch curled up into rafes side as he talks business with barry.

“and you got that shipment coming in, yeah? y’not bullshittin’ me?” rafe pins the darker haired man with his intense gaze, ignoring you completely as you huff out your nose like a disgruntled dog, pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

“no, country club i’m not bullshitting you. you think i care enough to lie to you? thought you gave this sellin’ shit up anyway. what happened, huh?” barry’s eyes barely flicker towards you, used to your antics.

“i already told you — it’s a personal favour. got people asking me for— hey,” he directs his attention to you suddenly. “whats with you?” he asks, blinking impatiently.

“my tummy hurts. i got my period.” you pout, all tense and uncomfortable. rafe sighs, thinking for a moment as he runs his hand over his chin, directing his attention back at barry.

“get my stuff. i will be back to talk to you. alright?”

you’re surprised rafe cut things short with barry, never usually pandering to your complaints— but maybe he just wanted to get out of there.

he doesn’t really know how to help someone on their cycle, it’s not really something he’s cared to do before you, but he’s learnt a little. he brings you a hot water bottle in bed before standing back, shoving hands into his pockets.

“m’gonna be goin’ back to talk to barry. you gonna be alright here? by yourself?” his eyes glance towards the hot water bottle and you nod sadly, just in pain and wanting him but not having the energy to argue your case. he nods, adjusting your blanket a little. “alright… okay, good. text me if you need anything.”

he leaves, and you fall asleep — a deep one, because when you wake up it’s dark, and rafe is coming back through the door. you keep your eyes shut, not having the energy and you feel the bed dip, his weight beside you. his hand gently passes over your head before coming to caress your warm cheek. “sleepy baby.” he comments pointlessly under his breath and you nuzzle into his hand in acknowledgment.

knowing you’re awake now, he drops his voice to a whisper. “how’s the belly?” he asks and your heart softens at him using the word belly instead of stomach, seeming to pander just a little to your sweeter ways.

“hurts.” you croak, not opening your eyes.

“hm.” he thinks, trying to come up with a solution but comes up blank. “go back to sleep. m’here now, ‘kay?”

★⌒ヽ(´ ❥ `)

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Ziehen

Chapter Thirty One

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Zachariah, Crowley, Dick, Bobby, Sam and Benny

Word Count: 2053, with other media

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, talk of extra-curricular activities coming up, a thirst trap because Jensen has been unfair lately, Benny being a teddy bear, and Bela trying to make amends

Series Masterlist

“And between record store day and Phantom Traveler’s release, Q2 is looking to break records for us,” Zachariah droned on.

“Well, it’s the least they could do,” Dick added glibly.

You couldn’t roll your eyes, you were on camera, but you wanted to. Crowley didn’t reply, but Zachariah chuckled and took a beat to agree before going on down the line of his report. Bobby huffed, but kept a lid on it, which told you how much he knew Dick was right.

“Things are shaping up well with pre-orders and the appearances Bobby and company have lined up between Vegas and New Orleans with the album release.  should outshine their previous album sales by a wide margin,” Crowley tacks on, almost bored with the success.

You set that up, not Bobby, but you kept your mouth shut, nodding.

“Y’all can thank Y/N for that, you know,” Bobby said gruffly.

“Of course,” Dick agreed offhandedly, eyes darting down to other parts of his screen.

Thank God for Bobby. You simply smiled and kept listening.

“Sounds great, people! Let’s check back the week of the release to ensure we’re still on track. We’ve got a lot of numbers to move to get in the black here, but I see good things happening,” Dick smarmed and instantly sent a meeting invite for the following month. 

“Thank you!” you replied dutifully and closed the window for the chat. After accepting the invite and adding it to your personal calendar, you exhaled long and hard. You checked your phone, Bela had called again and left another two text messages. You ignored her. She could wait.

You called Bobby for a mix of mutual griping and to debrief about where that put you all going forward. 

Without even a greeting, Bobby started, “I swear they get dumber every quarter.”

“Tell me about it. Thanks for having my back in there, though, I was starting to see red by the end.”

“You and me both, darlin’.” Bobby huffed. “The amount of stuff you get done is amazing. Even without all the run-around from the last tour, you are doing more than anybody I’ve seen in your position. We appreciate ya, even if the suits can’t see past their nose jobs.”

You beamed.

“Thanks. So, what’s on the agenda for the week? I know Dean and Sam took Gibson and Pamela to the zoo.”

“Yeap. Got the Midway Museum tomorrow if you have time, got tickets for anybody who wants to go. Might be good time for pictures if you need some candids for the socials.”

You knew this was his way of telling you to come, he even gave you justification for doing it on so called work hours.

“Maybe. I might just steal some from the band. Too much to get done before the show on Thursday.”

“Well, you’re welcome to join us if you get caught up or not.”

“Thanks.” It felt like all you could say to him today. It was a small word with a lot of connotations, but you were grateful. You owed Bobby so much. Though he never gave anything he didn’t want to give or for any form of repayment. He was too good for this industry. They all were.

“I’ll keep you posted. I have calls with the next couple of venue coordinators today and then some event security stuff tomorrow morning with Benny for some non-venue signings and stuff.”

“You still want to do the battered women's shelter thing?”

“The domestic violence survivors fundraiser in Vegas? Absolutely.”

Bobby hummed.

“I know what you’re thinking, Bobby. And that’s exactly why we’re doing it.”

“Do you think it looks like pandering?”

“I think it looks like community service. And if I didn’t think Dean could handle it, I wouldn’t have signed him up for it.”

“Even after that little disappearing act on Saturday?”

“Dean is a domestic abuse survivor, Bobby. Part of what he’s gone through is accepting that.”

“Yeah, but Cas—.”

“Cas is still family. And he didn’t press charges. And you know Dean—- penance is something he needs to do for himself, too.”

Bobby sighed. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Trust me, this is still my good side.”

Bobby actually chuckled at that. “I bet! Okay, I should get going, promised the missus we’d hit the shops before dinner.”

“Have a good one.”

“Alrighty, bye then.”

You smiled at your desk as Bobby hung up. He was happy and Annie was good for him. It didn’t matter their pasts, they made it work, and made each other better along the way.

Which seemed utterly remarkable and unattainable for somebody like you.

But if anybody deserved it, it was them.

You put down your phone and pulled up Twitter, it was time to dig through the chaos and do what you did best: highlight the good, the band's synergy and the new momentum and bury the bad. 

Which seemed to include you this time around, unfortunately.

After Twitter, you tackled Insta, Reddit and even FB, though most people cross posted the same images and anecdotes, some people only used one of the bunch. And some only used them on pain of death, namely Dean. Meanwhile, Bela had posted a couple of great shots from the afterparties, which you liked as the band and as yourself. 

You were crabby, not petty.

And busy, damnit.

The next morning, Sam smirked at you when he caught your eye in the hotel’s gym. He was already sweating from running outside, but must have come back to stretch or work something more intensely. What you weren’t expecting was Dean to be hot on his heels, equally as sweaty, equally as mischievous.

“Trouble! How’s business?” 

You rolled your eyes and took out an earbud, not sure you really heard them.

“What’s up?”

“We’re gonna lift— you want in?” Sam was teasing you now.

You pedaled stiffly and shook your head. “Fuck no, I’m good here, got another ten mile circuit after this breather.”

“Suit yourself,” Dean taunted and grinned before he crossed his legs and touched his toes. What the hell? Luckily there was only one other guest using the elliptical, so they weren’t being complete nuisances, yet.

They weren’t even directly in your line of sight, otherwise it could have gotten awkward, and distracting.

Still, you felt them keep glancing at you, making faces, and even cheering for you when you shifted up with your ass out of the seat to get the best angle for the various hills. You flipped them off, but kept your eyes forward and your earbuds in place.

Thirty minutes later, you groaned and stepped off the stationary bike. Dean and Sam had been talking more than doing curls with the free weights, obviously being dorks about each other’s efforts.

Boys.

“Good workout?” Dean asked as you sanitized your equipment. Sweat clung to your oversized tank top, all down your back, and between your legs. Thank god you wore your black workout leggings today.

“Yeah? You?” You smirked as Dean made a show of extending his movements slowly and pointedly. Yes, Dean, your arms should be illegal, you thought.

“Good, uh— need help stretching?”

You looked at him a little dumbfounded and then back at Sam, who seemed just as surprised as you were by the offer.

“Nah, I’ve got my bands and stuff in my room. Though, I bet Sam would love to see you try and bullshit your way through a cool down routine,” you tacked on, trying to laugh off the offer. Inside you were imagining Dean’s weight against you, pushing your knees up and out, flexing your hip joints with his thick fingers digging into the meat of you…

“Hey! I was just being nice.”

“Dude,” Sam muttered.

You sighed and gave Dean an apologetic smile. “Maybe another time.”

You pretended not to hear the series of slaps that happened behind your back as you made your way to the elevator and your generic hotel shower.

Benny treated you to lunch after your video calls with the S.A.F.E. House staff and the one with the folks at the radio station who’d be interviewing the band the morning of the first Vegas show. 

“Saw your tweet on Cas’ post,” you added thoughtfully, midway through your shrimp po boys.

“Yeah, well, didn’t want him thinking he done wrong by us.”

You chewed and nodded, silently telling him that you got it, appreciated it even. 

“You hear anything else from the guys about the last show, you know, after Dean disappeared and, um, everything?”

You needed to know if the guards were loyal, but mostly you wanted to know what they had seen.

“Seemed pretty anticlimactic to most of them, from what I hear. Dean came through, sober and clean as a whistle. —Even the venue goons didn’t clock anything weird,” Benny pointed out before taking another bite, his teeth flashing in the afternoon sun.

After a few moments, Benny continued. “But, uh, that label stooge you got following Bela? He’s the one to worry about, really, seems to keep his cards close to the vest.”

Damn, you knew he was right before he even finished the sentence. Tiny would be the one to squeal to Crowley, or worse, Dick, at the end of the day. You wondered if you could buy him off or treat him in other ways while on the road. Bela wasn’t scheduled to be around until the second Vegas show, you had some time to figure out his motives. Or if he even cared at all.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

Benny sniffed and looked around the small patio outside the restaurant. “Bela’s not really Dean’s girl is she? She some kind of clout pusher?”

You swallowed and took a long slurp of your iced tea, washing away the now muted flavor of your lunch. “I honestly don’t know anymore, Benny. They’ve definitely been enjoying each other’s company more than I expected.”

“Perhaps—- but don’t you worry none. She’s not the type you settled down with and he’s got eyes deeper than the cut of her fancy tops.”

You huffed. Benny certainly had a way with words.

“It’s okay, Benny— I’m not in a place to be jealous.”

He just raised his eyebrows at you and took another bite.

“I did this— I set them up. I’d guess you’d call it reaping what I sow or something?”

Benny nodded and shrugged. “Or something.”

“You won’t— you won’t tell anybody, right? His story is safe with you?”

“Doll, I’ve been covering that boy’s ass since before Lisa— I’m true.”

“I know, Benny, sorry—- it’s just so much posturing all the time. I just want to take pictures and show the world how badass they are. I want people to hear the stories behind the songs, because it shows they’re human too. Sometimes I wish—-”

“Wishin’ for rain in the desert aint doin’ anybody a lick of good. You know the score, you just gotta beat them at their own game. Dean’s a good man, he knows what’s real. Don’t think we all don’t know that, too.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime. Know who your people are, if you trust Bela— then she won’t let Tiny think anything is up. Friends have each other’s back against the world, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, suddenly feeling ridiculously immature for ignoring her for the past few days.

“Eat up, cher. It’s a long tour. You’ll need your strength.”

That was an understatement, but you dug in anyway.

“Y/N, listen— I’ve resorted to leaving you a voicemail. It’s come to that. I’m sorry. I am. I didn’t mean anything disparaging about you the other night— just maybe about how you treat Dean. Not that it's bad, overkill more like, but it’s not like you’re bad or weak for doing it.--- I know how much you loved her, Y/N, I know. Him too, it seems. I just don’t want you wasting so much of your life trying to make up for losing her. It hurts to see you so— subservient. You are so much more than an errand girl. So I’m sorry for my lack of tact. But I’m not sorry I brought it up. Okay? There. Call me back and yell at me properly already, Jesus.”

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

@spxideyver

Chapter 32: Tronco

[porcelainseashore]

Into the Ether (9)

Series Masterlist

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

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

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Authors' Note: Implied child kidnapping ahead.

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

AO3 Link

Chapter 9: Blood Is Thicker Than Water

Another night, another part of the mystery to solve. But first, you had agreed to go into work. Nothing was going to stop you, not even the ‘Prince’s orders’. Something about having a nightly routine kept you sane and grounded you in reality. Not that what you were experiencing wasn’t real, but you didn’t want to lose touch with the living. You didn’t want to become like… Leon?

You heaved a disheartened sigh thinking about it. You’d been giving the man the silent treatment ever since returning from the Spencer Mansion, and you didn’t like it one bit. Hurting people wasn’t something you enjoyed — be it ignoring them out of spite or acting in a way that would lead to someone’s unfair demise. It didn’t help that you were constantly being reminded of how powerless and insignificant you were. Was this the best you could do when taking a stand? Or was there something more?

Working felt like walking. You went through the motions: socializing with your colleagues, pandering to customers, planning out the next month’s events program, making a couple of calls along the way, and your personal favorite — sorting out the cafe’s finances. Even the Redfields showed up, informing you and by extension, Leon, that they were still on the suitor’s case and would have something juicy for you soon.

“Do you ever miss the sun?” you wondered out loud. 

It had barely been a week since you turned, but you were already bemoaning the fact that you wouldn’t be able to live to see it. Although the nights were longer now that the year had entered into its colder period, you had thought ahead, speculating how it would be like when summer returned again. That was depressing.

“Always,” Claire responded, patting your shoulder empathetically.

“Best not to think about it,” Chris chimed in, taking a swig from his beer bottle. “You’ll get used to it at some point, and besides, there’s always YouTube.”

“Very helpful, Chris,” his sister huffed in disdain, forcefully backhanding her brother so that he choked on a bit of his beer.

“What the fuck, sis?” he groaned, wiping the beer stains off his clothes with his bare hands in annoyance. “On my nice shirt as well.”

For some reason the constant bickering between the siblings caused you to double over in laughter and they looked at you in amusement. After you recovered from your giggling fit, you pointed to Chris' bottle, asking, “So you can do that thing of actually enjoying what you eat and drink?”

“Uh huh.”

“Maybe you can teach me?” you tested the waters. “Leon was supposed to, but—” You stopped yourself in your tracks, realizing that you’d have to share a lot more than you would be comfortable with.

Unfortunately, Claire was perceptive enough. “Trouble in Paradise?” she suggested, only to continue on her train of thought when you didn’t answer, “Whatever it is, you don’t have to tell me. He may be a prick who needs a nudge in the right direction, but he’ll come around.”

She pressed her arm against the wall and leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “And I hate to say this, but he’s actually a good guy.”

The expression on your face must’ve given away how you felt when Claire had uttered those last words. She quickly peppered it with, “He must’ve screwed up pretty bad, huh?”

“Let’s just say it’s one screw up after the other,” you finally replied.

Chris gave a low chuckle, “Sounds like him alright.” He shrugged. “Can’t blame the guy for trying though.”

“Alright, I’ll let you in on something,” Claire began, only to be interrupted by her brother.

“Oh man, not again! Can’t ever keep your goddamn mouth shut, can you?” he scolded.

“Shut up, Chris! She’s cool with us, you know that,” she retorted and he conceded, though you could still hear him grumbling in the background.

Turning towards you triumphantly, she continued, “I’ll keep it short. He saved my brother's skin; I owed him a life boon, and Chris probably did too, but he turned it down in the end.”

“Yeah, said something about not wanting to take advantage,” Chris piped up, shaking his head in disbelief. “To this night, it still floors me.”

What they had said gave you some pause. It seemed as though Leon had a bunch of demons to confront, and there was always an internal battle waging. You just hadn’t been able to break through. But did you want to in the end? Or would you just leave him to rot in his own misdoings? You weren’t anyone’s savior and you didn’t want to be. You simply wanted to do what felt right to you.

“Guess there’s a lot more to him that I don’t know about,” you mused.

Chris’ wide palm met your back with a loud thump that reverberated across your chest. “Hey, chin up, kid. It’ll take a while, but you’ll get there. Us Brujahs don’t give up without a fight.” His brown eyes lit up and crinkled, fine lines of crow’s feet fanning out from the corners. “And no matter what anyone says, I still think you’re one at heart.”

“Brujah, huh? I like the sound of that.” A crooked smile played across your lips as you laid your cards out on the table. “I’ve heard you’re fierce fighters. Mind showing me a few tricks? Just so I know how to fend for myself.”

Chris stood taller, eyeing you with curiosity as a sense of pride visibly swelled in his chest.

“I could throw in a supply of beers on the house to sweeten the deal,” you added, pointing at the empty bottle he was clutching at his side.

He barked out a laugh before responding, “Well, now that you put it that way, you’ve got my hands tied.” Placing his bottle down on a table beside him, he agreed, “Sure, I’ll give you some tips, but a word of warning: I don’t go easy.”

The rest of your shift went by without event, until Leon dropped by to pick you up for the next meeting planned that night. Since neither of you had gotten any real leads on the case yet, he thought it best to visit the Bakers first before heading back to NEST, where the Primogens' offices were and where Jill would be waiting impatiently for answers. 

In the jeep, the atmosphere was thick with tension, though along the way, he tried to cut through it with some advice. “I know you’re still upset and don’t want to talk, but I need to prepare you for this.” 

He tapped on the steering wheel nervously. “As Malkavians, the Bakers all suffer from some form of affliction following their Embrace. In this case, they believe a little girl called Eveline is part of the family, except no one else can see her.”

“You mean she’s invisible?”

The car swerved off-center as Leon glanced over at you, startled by your response. It was the first time you had spoken to him in a while. You clung onto the grab handle and yelled, “Keep your fucking eyes on the road!”

“Shit, um, sorry!” He focused his attention back to his driving, quickly stabilizing the vehicle before he spoke up again. “And, uh, no. I mean, we don’t think she actually exists.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Okay, and is that going to be a problem?”

“Not if you pretend she does,” he stated plainly. “Otherwise, they’ll get really provoked if you don’t interact with Eveline.”

“Right, thanks for the heads up.” You nodded curtly. “Anything else I should know?”

“Yeah, well, uh, just be—”

“Careful. Got it,” you finished the sentence for him.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he emphasized. “These folks have always been rather isolated from the Camarilla. Last I heard, they don’t take kindly to strangers sticking their noses where they don’t belong. So, if all hell breaks loose in there, I want you to book it and run, alright?”

You frowned, shifting your gaze in his direction. If his intention was to allay your fears, he had done nothing but heighten them. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He flashed you a reassuring smile, but you could make out the hint of unease in the curl of his lips. “Take the car keys when we reach the place, so you have your escape route if needed.”

You let his words linger in the air as you kept quiet throughout the rest of the ride.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Reaching the outskirts of Raccoon City, you were traveling along Stone-Ville Road, where there was nothing but open land. The trees had been cleared from the forest, and multiple estuaries flowed from the Raccoon Dam. The area was sparsely populated, with only a smattering of houses spread out from each other in the distance. At some point, Leon made a left turn into a side road, heading towards a decrepit-looking estate that was slightly off the beaten track. It appeared to bear some similarities to the Spencer Mansion back in Arklay Forest, causing a spine-tingling shiver to sweep through your body.

“Designed by the same architect from the Trevor & Chamberlain fame,” Leon pointed out, seemingly able to read your mind.

“That guy from New York?” You remembered reading about him in magazine articles and the mystery of his disappearance as people mourned the loss of a genius.

“Yeah, so expect surrealist stuff, including puzzles and secret passageways,” he cautioned.

You balked at the thought of having to enter yet another labyrinth like the one at the Tremere Chantry.

“It’s just for a friendly chat,” he asserted, his calming blue gaze meeting yours. “I doubt there’s any need for us to explore the house, unless they make things difficult.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you muttered, tucking the car keys into your pocket as you stepped in front of a formidable, rusty gate.

It was unlocked, and as Leon pushed it open, it screeched on its hinges like a dead woman's wail, beckoning you towards the crumbling building before you, which was long past its heyday. The refurbished plantation house, where you assumed the Baker family lived, was part of a larger ranch estate, and it looked like something straight out of a slasher flick.

Leon pressed the doorbell, waiting to see if there was any sign of life. A light switched on, its mellow rays filtered through the window shades, and you heard hurried footsteps on the wooden floorboards until the door swung open. An older lady with her dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail peered at both of you in confusion. She wore a tattered, sweat-stained button-up blouse and a brown skirt. Her coarse and wrinkled skin still carried an unfaded tan, suggesting a life of manual labor, where she had tended to the animals and fields under the sweltering sun.

“Can I help you, miss, mister?” she asked in a heavy Southern drawl. “We weren’t expecting anyone at this time.”

“Ma’am,” he dipped his head politely in acknowledgement. “Sorry for intruding on you like this, but there wasn’t any other way to contact you.”

“Well, we don’t want no trouble, young man. Just mindin’ our own business, that’s all.” Shifting nervously from foot to foot, she fiddled with the hem of her cotton blouse, glancing over her shoulder every now and then at a blank space behind her.

Your attention was drawn to the area she kept looking at, and as you concentrated on it, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You had the strangest sense that someone was there, but you couldn’t make out any shape or figure, just an energy. An icy chill gripped your head, as if cold hands were feeling along the grooves of your brain. You shuddered, realizing that whoever it was knew that you were aware of its presence.

“We don’t want any trouble either,” Leon assured, raising his palms slightly to indicate a truce. “We just have some questions we could use your help on, regarding an attack a couple of nights ago.”

The woman still clutched onto the door apprehensively. “Why? Who sent you?”

“The Prince put us on the investigation,” he disclosed warily.

At that moment, a shadowy figure materialized behind the woman, taking a few seconds before you could make out his features in the dim light. He was an older man, around the same age as her, balding and wearing spectacles. Likewise, his yellow striped shirt and beige pants were worn and filthy, as though he hadn’t changed out of it for decades.

“Prince?” he questioned defensively, placing his hand on the small of the woman’s back. “What does the Prince want? We didn’t do nothing wrong, son.”

“No, you didn’t,” Leon agreed, quickly following up with an explanation to assuage the man. “We have the assailants in custody, but it appears they’ve been brainwashed and manipulated through Dementation — a skill that you’re well-versed in.”

The man eyed him like a hawk as Leon continued, treading on thin ice. “We thought we could use your expertise, and if you might’ve picked up on anything out of the ordinary in the vicinity.”

There was a pregnant pause before the man relented, “Fine, you got five minutes to ask us anything you wanna know, son.” Pushing the door wide open, he gestured for you to enter. “Come on in.”

As you stepped into the gloomy premises, he pointed at you, flashing a warning glance in your direction. “And no more snoopin’ around, young lady.”

Oh, right. You must’ve unwittingly activated one of your powers earlier to sense his presence, when he had relied on his Obfuscate Discipline to remain hidden. “Sorry, my bad,” you mumbled. “It was an accident.”

He nodded, turning around to make his way into the living room where a dining table was situated. “You girls can come out now,” he hollered. 

You saw a younger woman with jagged, short hair emerge in a similar fashion to how the man did before, sitting at one of the chairs at the table. Despite that, you greeted two people as Leon had instructed, and he followed suit. A round of introductions followed, where you learnt that the older couple were Jack and Marguerite and their two daughters, Zoe and Eveline, with the latter being the youngest at ten years old.

Marguerite disappeared into the kitchen for a bit, only to return with a tray of crockery. She handed out cups to everyone and poured a red, viscous liquid from a teapot. Jack grumbled in the corner that it was meant to be a short meeting, but at the same time, couldn’t help but appreciate his wife’s hospitality. Bringing the cup to your nose, the liquid smelled musky, like earth, and you wondered where it came from.

“It’s the best I can offer at such last minute notice,” she apologized, wiping her hands on her blouse as she sat herself down. Twisting her head in the direction of the empty seat next to Zoe, she cooed, “But Evie likes it, don’t ya, sweetheart? That’s it, drink up now. Little piggy’s blood is good for you.”

You watched as the cup on the table remained motionless, while Marguerite bombarded the invisible entity with sweet words of encouragement. Trying to ease the awkwardness in such a situation, you took a mouthful of the liquid from your cup. It was the first time you tasted animal blood and as much as you hated to admit it, it was incredibly bland compared to human blood. Like a simple gruel versus a gourmet meal. Then again, neither could bagged blood beat the real thing, though you tried not to dwell on it. You smiled politely over at Zoe, who threw you a sympathetic look.

“You’re new, huh?” she asked shyly, cocking her head as she gazed at you.

“Mm hm, about a week.” You took another sip and pursed your lips, swallowing the liquid like a chore that had to be done.

“Ooh, a baby!” Marguerite interjected, suddenly interested in the conversation between you and Zoe. You imagined she was the social butterfly of the group. “Maybe Evie can show you a few tricks.”

At this, Leon rested his hand over your arm protectively, forcing a strained smile. “Perhaps another time? We really should get down to business.”

“Ah, city boys and their ‘business’,” Jack remarked, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. “Well, what can we do for ya?”

You heard Leon speak, but his voice seemed to drone on with the others, and out of nowhere you started to enter a tunnel vision. In your line of sight, you spotted a framed photo of the Baker family, though something was amiss. There was a young man in the picture you hadn’t met yet. He was thin and lanky, and had a hoodie on that obscured part of his face. Leaning back on the couch, he stared directly back at you with a bored look in his hollowed eyes.

It took you a while, but you managed to snap out of it, uttering the first thought that came to your mind, “Is that your son, mister?”

All at once, the mood in the room shifted, taking a dramatic turn for the worse. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on you as Jack ordered ominously, “Get the hell out.”

You opened your mouth in protest, but Leon beat you to it, rising up from his seat as he contended, “Look, she didn’t mean anything by it. We’re sorry, alright? Could we just—”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, boy!” Jack bellowed, his command resonating across the room.

Leon’s body grew rigid and he remained mute. Dread seeped into your bones as you observed the previous scene of peace and tranquility descend into an utter nightmare.

“Mama, Evie’s getting upset,” Zoe announced in a tiny voice.

“Argh! See what you’ve done now?” Marguerite shrieked as she stomped around the room in a temper tantrum. “This is your fault!” she accused, glaring at you and Leon.

“You barge into our house and threaten my family? This won’t do!” Jack shook his head menacingly as his eyes glowered. “I’m just gonna have to teach you a lesson.”

His eyes changed into an otherworldly shade and Marguerite joined him, speaking in tongues. They gazed at Leon as if engaged in a séance. However, Zoe remained separate from their antics, looking on in fright. You stood rooted to where you were, bracing for the worst, but nothing happened. It was only when you saw Leon sink to the ground on his knees, his face pale as a sheet, that you realized he was bearing the brunt of your transgression.

He was taken back to years ago, at the height of his blood bond, where he would do anything to win Ada’s affection. Her interest in him had begun to wane and he was sure she was seeing another lover. But this time, he would bring her the vessel that would change her mind about him and guarantee her everlasting love.

There he was, at that godforsaken group home, the one linked to the Catholic church he had frequented when he was still alive, and where he would sell his damned soul for a second time to the Devil. All it took was a flash of his police credentials and a charm or two from his arsenal of skills he had honed to entrance the nuns keeping watch over the children.

“Sherry, are you ready to go?” He extended a hand towards her. 

This wasn’t his first rodeo. Ada and him had been noticing the little girl for a while, testing to see if she would be a worthy vessel for the Prince himself. After all, Ventrues were extremely fussy drinkers and Wesker expected a Michelin star meal every single time. The only thing stopping him from delivering the girl over was a vague sense of morality he still had within him. But he was desperate enough now to dash it to the ground for a chance at his sire’s approval again.

The girl had dressed into her school uniform, a hairband holding her blond tresses out of her face as she peered up excitedly at him. “Yes, let’s go!”

She would have done anything to get away from the home where she never slept well and felt alone despite being in a room full of kids around her age. Where Leon was taking her sounded like a glorious fairytale. A palace with a prince, she imagined, a place where she would be treated to all the luxuries her current life could never afford her.

“Oh god, no!” he cried out, doubling over on the grimy floor of the Baker House. 

Sherry was haunting him again. Everywhere he looked, he saw multiple copies of her like a cracked mirror reflecting her ghost on its uneven surface. He heard layer upon layer of her laughter, jumbled and out of sync, mocking and taunting him. Paranoia sank in and he curled himself into a fetal position, pleading for no one in particular to forgive him.

“Sherry, please, we have to go!” he urged. 

This was years later, when he had some sense knocked into him from the time he hung out with the Anarchs. He wanted to right his wrongs, and free the girl who was never meant to be trapped in the underworld in the first place.

But she had changed. She was older and wiser, and knew exactly what she wanted — it was definitely not to leave.

Yanking her hand back, she kicked her feet, stamping on the ground as she yelled, “No! I want to stay!”

He was shocked by her absolute conviction in remaining within the prison where she was held, like a pretty songbird for the rest of the Kindred to gawk at. “But…”

“You can’t make me!” she screamed, red in the face.

Rendered speechless, he didn’t know what else to do than stare at the crying child before him with his jaw hanging open. He thought he was saving her, like a knight in shining armor, but she didn’t need any saving. She was perfectly happy where she was.

“One day, I’ll get you out of there. I promise,” he babbled on repeatedly, reduced to nothing but a trembling mess before the Malkavians.

During the entire period when Leon appeared to be suffering from a mental breakdown, you were torn about what to do. He had told you to bolt the minute something like this took place, but you couldn’t leave him to fend for himself in this state. You didn’t understand what he was blabbering on about. Was Sherry his sister? Where was she? What happened to her?

A million thoughts raced through your mind, but you shut them down. You needed to pry Leon away from the family’s cold clutches and keep him safe. Mustering your courage, you approached the one who seemed to be the most reasonable of the lot. She still sat in her chair, gazing upon the scene with a vacant yet troubled expression.

“Zoe?” you called out softly, hoping it wouldn’t escalate the situation. “Please, we don’t mean any harm.”

Her eyes darted towards you.

“I know you’re just trying to protect your family,” you deduced, especially from the way they had been on edge the moment you stepped onto their property and inadvertently brought up one of their own.

“We need the information, but I swear to you we will keep whoever it is you’re trying to protect safe,” you promised.

Her breath hitched, and she looked at you with glassy eyes. In the background, you could hear Leon’s gut-wrenching whines of pain.

“Zoe, please!” you begged, your brows furrowing and tears on the verge of spilling from your eyes. You couldn’t bear to witness him in such agony any longer. It felt like your heart was shattering into pieces, though you couldn’t explain why.

“Eveline, stop,” her calm voice sliced through the air and the buzzing energy died down. 

Her parents came out of their hypnotic state and Leon stopped shaking uncontrollably, though he backed himself into a corner in fear. You rushed to his side, holding him in your arms as you checked his eyes to see if he had fully returned to the present.

“You stayed…” he whispered, reaching out to touch your face, as though he was trying to ascertain if you were real.

In an instant, you pulled him into an embrace, rocking him gently as you stroked his hair. “You’re okay, Leon. You’re safe.”

After a while, he relaxed into your arms and his breathing returned to its normal tempo. The Bakers exchanged worried looks but said nothing as they gave him time to recover. Finally, Jack broke the silence. “I-I’m sorry about what happened there, son. Just been a lot going on these days.”

You turned around, deciding to take the reins as you spoke for the two of you, “I understand, and as I promised your daughter, we’ll make sure that, um—”

“Lucas,” Marguerite offered.

“—Lucas won’t get hurt.”

Jack nodded, taking off his glasses as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “You see, how we work is through what others call premonitions or clairvoyance, and all that mumbo-jumbo.” 

Clearing his throat, he continued, “Well, lately we’ve been sensing a bunch of Sabbat activity in the city. Their symbols are everywhere, like little red hotspots across the center. They’re planning more of these attacks for sure, just heading down along the river.”

“Circular River?” you probed.

“Uh huh, the one closest to town,” he concurred. “And, uh, I’m guessing you were also here about the Cobweb?”

“Yeah.”

He swallowed anxiously as Marguerite took over. “It don’t always speak to us, and sometimes it’s hard to make out what it says. But we heard somethin’ the other night.”

She paused, adjusting her hair restlessly before she divulged, “It was Lucas’ voice, carried like a wave by a thousand voices, saying his name is nobody. That stood out, but we don’t know why.”

Nobody said they were nobody…

You caught a flicker of recognition in Leon’s eyes as you recalled what the man had said during Jill’s interrogation. Was Lucas responsible for all of this?

“Where’s Lucas now?” Leon asked, his voice still a little unsteady.

“He don’t want to be found.” Jack shrugged dejectedly. “My boy’s always been a real firecracker. Left home one day and never came back. We think he’s with them — the Sabbat.”

“But he’s a good boy,” his wife insisted. “Please don’t hurt him.”

“We just want him to come home,” Zoe added. “Evie wants her big brother back.”

The joy and curse of familial bonds. You could get behind that.

“We won’t breathe a word about Lucas,” you pledged, overriding your sire’s authority as you answered on behalf of him as well. “Right, Leon?”

You could see the discomfort in his expression, though he grunted an affirmative reply.

As Jack showed you out of the house, you thanked him and his family for their assistance, though a final question came to your mind. “Can Dementation have long-lasting effects?”

“With the right choice of words, it can.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

To play it safe, you took over the driving on the way back as you and Leon discussed the information you had gleaned from the Bakers.

“You think Lucas is the one?” you asked as you stopped at a red light.

“No, I don’t think he worked alone,” he opined. “It took two of the Bakers to bring me to my knees.”

There was a momentary pause as he clenched his fist at the memory, exhaling another deep breath of air. “I know we are talking about manipulating a group of lesser vampires, but unless he’s a prodigy we’ve never discovered, there were most likely others involved at the same time.”

“Makes sense,” you agreed, easing off on the brake pedal to switch over to the accelerator as the lights went green again.

“You still want to protect the guy, even after what he did?”

Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, causing your knuckles to turn white. A promise was a promise, and there was more than enough bloodshed these nights.

“Yes,” you forced the answer out through gritted teeth. “Got a problem with that?”

“I admire you,” he murmured, dispelling your misgivings. “Your compassion.”

You felt your anger dissolve as you followed up with a suggestion. “It’s never too late, you know?”

He gave you a weak smile but remained silent for the ride home.

Back at his apartment, you noticed that he still seemed shaken by the night's events as he kicked off his shoes and sat on the couch, gazing blankly into space. Was he going to doze off in that position? You had already changed into a loose muslin nightdress and gone through the usual bedtime preparations.

Strolling over, you sat down beside him, trying to strike up a conversation. “They spooked you real bad, huh?”

He didn’t laugh at your joke, though he acknowledged it. “You can say that again.”

This wasn’t like him at all. You grabbed his shoulder in concern. “Hey, you don't seem okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” he sighed, looking away from you to his lap. “And… thank you for back there.”

“I would never abandon you like that,” you stressed, even if you hadn’t forgiven him for turning you… yet. 

He glanced at you with his watery blue eyes in appreciation, but you could tell that his mind was in a distant place elsewhere. Even though he tried to hide it, you saw his hands quivering, and you hoped that what the Bakers had done wasn’t permanent. You knew he was trying to put on a brave front, but a part of you felt uneasy about leaving him on his own.

“Um, why don’t you sleep next to me today?” you offered hesitantly.

He peered at you quizzically. “You sure?”

“Yeah, just get dressed, alright?” You made your way up the stairs and waited for him by the bed before he could argue any further.

He joined you later, clad in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants, keeping a respectable distance as he lay beside you. There was a nervous energy to him.

You drew nearer, caressing his arm tenderly. “We don’t have to talk about whatever you saw in there,” you affirmed. “I’m here if you need me.”

He tucked your hair behind your ear as a stray tear fell onto his face. Wrapping your arms around him, you closed the gap, breathing in his scent as you felt his hands along your waist. It seemed as if an eternity had passed before you released each other. His nose nudged against yours as his warm breath grazed your cheek. When his gaze lowered to your lips, you didn’t have to think or doubt what would come next. 

Leaning in, he placed his soft lips over your own, kissing you intimately as he savored your taste in his mouth. Instinctively, you kissed back, running your fingers through his messy locks as your tongue licked across the seam of his lips. A low moan escaped his throat as he pressed up against you, claiming your lips again and again. It was the last thing you remembered as daysleep enveloped you like a cocoon, lulling you into a temporary hibernation.

[gurggggleburgle]

I find the read that Luo Binghe is Airplane's self insert so weird because it ignores that that's not how self inserts work usually. Like a writer giving a character attributes similar to themselves is normal and inevitable. You can only draw from so many places and the easiest emotions and traits to write in are ones you are intimately familiar with. Like you can tell if a writer knows personally on a subject based off how they express and write details. Like I as a writer can't make characters tell jokes that are stylistically different from my own sense of humor because its so interpersonal and subjective. It's also a matter of how he sees and talks about Binghe as a complete separate character and a son rather than as a part of himself. Qinghua doesn't think or talk about Luo Binghe like they should be even considered on the exact same wavelength. So yeah, Qinghua probably does share some traits and elements with Binghe. They probably do share a braincell and a number of traits, but like this, all ignores that PIDW was a story written by a desperate author who had past failed works who realized people were actually reading this and needed to make money.

And when you stop and think about how PIDW is a very generic and standard in terms of what it does as a stallion novel doesn't it mean that Luo Binghe is less what Airplane would self insert as and more what he thinks is a marketable protagonist. Like Bingge specifically hits a bunch of classic tropes and elements with the only real defining thing being he's like a black hearted dude and Airplane was absolutely willing to pander to the masses.

What I'm saying is that Luo Binghe is what Qinghua thinks a basic bitch protagonist is. Luo Binghe is what Airplane considers generic wonderbread marketable.

And if you consider what you know and understand about harem novels and this genres tropes and bs nonsense doesn't it just make sense. Like of course he's not a gay man's self insert. He's a gay man's idea of what the basic bitch redditors like to see.

And like he did such a good job making a basic bitch he melted Shen Yuan's brain and made him obsessed and that's so funny. Your honor the man has no taste or sanity. He's truly unsalvalgabe and I love him so.