#he did lots of shit and deserves consequences

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

Out of curiosity: why do you think Philip hates Alex specifically? (cakegate aside) Do you think he'd just be okay with Henry dating some upper-class English guy?

Why I think he hates Alex

He has no been kind to him once in the book. Also Alex ruined his wedding cake. Not a great first impression.

I don’t think there’s more to it tbh. Alex hasn’t been kind to him either, and Philip sees Alex being so “open” with the public, having fun with it, his public persona completely different to their (Philip, Bea, and Henry’s) public persona, and just being the compete opposite to what monarchy considers proper, so he doesn’t like him, let alone want him dating Henry.

Answering your second question,

I think it’s not based on Alex not being an upper-class English guy, but more based on how Alex is as a person, as in his personality. And also the fact than he’s the son of the president of the states.

“I don’t care if you’re gay,” Philip says, dropping that big fat if like Henry hasn’t already specifically told him. “I care that you’ve made this choice, with him”—he cuts his eyes sharply to Alex as if he finally exists in the same room as this conversation—“someone with a fucking target on his back, to be so stupid and naive and selfish as to think it wouldn’t completely fuck us all.”

Alex is, since the start of the book, very different to Henry. Interests and family aside, Alex kind of enjoys being in the public eye. At least at the start of the book. He likes being in front of a crowd, make them scream. Is true than Alex is probably the most private one out of the White House trio, but just because he doesn’t share his private life to the public, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t get along with them. One of the first scenes of him we have is him talking about how he and Nora like creating rumours and being in magazines and all.

I have a point I swear, just wait.

Monarchy (Philip, Henry, Bea), is the complete opposite to this. They stay out of directly interacting with the public, they don’t have fun with it like Alex does. Not because is a personal choice (which that too) but because they can’t, because they have a reputation to uphold. And isn’t everything about monarchy based on reputation?

Alex, Nora, and June, also have reputations, but theirs are handmade, you could say, while Philip, Henry, and Bea’s and premade, they had no choice on them, they are just something they have to do, something the have to look like.

Alex, Nora and June chose their own reputations, they decided how they wanted people to see them. They had control over that.

All three of them—himself, June, and Nora—have their roles.

Nora is the cool brainy one, the one who makes inappropriate jokes on Twitter about whatever sci-fi show everyone’s watching, a bar trivia team ringer.

He looks at June—ahead of him now, caramel highlights in her swinging ponytail catching the midday sun—and he knows her place too. The intrepid Washington Post columnist, the fashion trendsetter everyone wants to have at their wine-and-cheese night.

But Alex is the golden boy. The heartthrob, the handsome rogue with a heart of gold. The guy who moves through life effortlessly, who makes everyone laugh. Highest approval ratings of the entire First Family. The whole point of him is that his appeal is as universal as possible.

For example Alex is not his public personal (aside from heart of gold). That’s something he created. The whole point of him is than his appeal is as universal as possible.

Stopping myself here because if I don’t I’ll go on yet another rant about Alex (I love my boy so much).

But basically in the book there’s a deep contrast between Alex’s family and Henry’s family, one is warm the other is cold. Alex has, and has always had, a choice. Sure, being on the public eye was not something he chose, it just happened because his mother wanted to be president, but he could choose everything else. His public persona, his decisions, who to date and who to not date. They didn’t even stop him from dating Henry. Just told him than he has to know what he wanted, to choose. But they didn’t stop him.

Henry is the opposite. He can’t choose how to present himself, how the world sees him. He can’t even wear ties with patterns.

Patterns are considered a “statement.” Royals aren’t supposed to make statements with what we wear.

They aren’t supposed to make statements.

The Royal Family are, as a rule, expected to stay out of politics, and refrain from giving their personal opinion on certain topics, so as to remain impartial.

Dating Alex, son of a political leader, is a statement. Is saying “I support this and I do not support that”.

And, Alex wants to be involved in politics, he talks about how he wants to make a change, how he genuinely cares, and the fastest way to make a change is making it while being on positions of power, somewhere people can hear you.

Alex’s whole reason for wanting to go into politics, when he knows so many past presidential sons and daughters have run away screaming the minute they turned eighteen, is he genuinely cares about people.

He has a very visible political position. People know what he supports and what he doesn’t, what he wants to do and what he doesn’t. And since he likes being on positions of power, because that gives him the possibly to make a change (even if at the end the change he did was unrelated to politics but about who he was as a person), he doesn’t get out of it. He continues being on it, he doesn’t mind attention on him, as long as they see what he wants them to see.

Philip sees Alex always on the public eye for one reason or another, a photo shoot, a new rumour, etc, and sees how his public persona is different to theirs, “wilder”, not so formal.

And, conservatives hate Alex. He is everything they stand against, even before knowing he was bi. He’s a grandchild of immigrants, he’s mixed race, he’s brown, he’s outspoken about his views (which are opposite to theirs), he’s the son of the first president who’s a woman, and who is also a democrat, he comes from a mixed race family, etc etc. Monarchy is supposed to be neutral. Alex is the opposite from neutral.

Philip’s main problem with Henry being gay is than he wanted to come out. Henry’s gay? Ok but he can’t come out. And that’s not based on homophobia (no matter if it sounds like it), is deeper, Henry coming out would challenge everything. First, he wouldn’t be neutral anymore. Monarchy is built upon manipulation upon privilege upon capitalism, etc. Henry coming out would threaten everything, all the rules, all the stuff would have to change, people would be asking why he didn’t come out before, and if Henry said the truth, their reputation would be dammed. And many many people would stop liking them. Some would not like them for being homophobic, other wouldn’t like them because Henry is gay. People from both sides would be against them. Their reputation (as mentioned as repeatedly through the book as repeatedly as I’m mentioning it now) is something that must be perfect. They can’t make statements, they’re perfect, formal, they’ll continue the bloodline, etc. If Henry is gay and people know, it no longer affects him, but all of them.

And many people see queerness and something political. Again, Henry wouldn’t be neutral.

I think than if Henry married a woman (hopefully a beard, someone who knows he’s gay and doesn’t care to cover for him) and had affairs with men, and Philip knew (than he was gay), he wouldn’t mind. He did what he had to do. Henry’s reputation is good, their reputation is good, they’ll continue the bloodline, etc. Because Philip, like Henry, was taught to leave their wants aside, and focus more on monarchy and what’s good for it.

The thing with Philip is, he isn’t evil. And many seem to forget that. He did bad things, and I’m holding him accountable for them, but at the end of the day, he was just brainwashed by Mary, specially after Arthur’s death. He was vulnerable after his father died, his mother wasn’t there mentally, he felt like he had to step up, be the “man of the house”, and he clung to his grandmother (the only adult in his immediate family who was physically and mentally there for him), and Mary took this opportunity to make him into the version of him monarchy wanted him to be (rule follower, defends their reputation no matter what, cares more about monarchy and what people think of them than what he wants to do.), which is just what Mary tried to make Henry to be too.

But he was on about Martha, and land holdings, and the hypothetical heirs they have to start working on, even though Philip hates children, and suddenly it was as if . . . as if everything you said last night came back to me. I thought, God, that’s it, isn’t it? Just following the plan. And it’s not that he’s unhappy. He’s fine. It’s all very deeply fine. A whole lifetime of fine.”

She probably tried with Bea, but Bea saw the manipulation right away and it didn’t work, or she didn’t get to try because with Arthur alive, that man would have never let her do that to his children, and with Arthur gone, Bea was like Catherine, mentally somewhere else. After rehab, she was still mourning, but she had Henry, she didn’t need her like Philip did. Because I think Henry and Bea were closer than Philip and Henry/Bea even before Arthur died, after it and Mary’s manipulation, they just drifted more apart.

If Casey wanted us to believe Philip was bad he would have made him be bad until the end, made him not change. Philip did change. Henry is even trying to make amends with him. Maybe he hasn’t fully forgiven him, which makes absolute sense and just because Philip was a victim it doesn’t he mean he was a victim inside their relationship, than he couldn’t continue the cycle of abuse. But Philip realized the cycle of abuse, realized he was continuing all this time. And tried to stop. That’s growth. Maybe not forgivable, not after everything, but he’s trying.

Philip came to Kensington two weeks ago to apologize to both Henry and Bea for the years since their father’s death, the harsh words, the domineeringness, the intense scrutiny. For basically growing from an uptight people- pleaser into an abusive, self-righteous twat under the pressure of his position and the manipulation of the queen. “He’s fallen out with Gran,” Henry had told Alex over the phone. “That’s the only reason I actually believe anything he says.”

Mary isn’t trying, Mary didn’t decide to support Henry at the end, didn’t try to do better. No one forgives her, and we are not supposed to see than she’s trying to be better, because she isn’t. “Isn’t Mary also a victim of this cycle of abuse, wasn’t she like Philip, brainwashed by her own parents probably (and her parents by their parents and so on), and continued the cycle?” Yes, but she doesn’t actively try to be better, doesn’t realize that, doesn’t even feel bad about it, different to Philip.

Answering again with shorter answers.

Why does Philip hate Alex specifically?

Because Alex is the whole opposite to what they stand for, he’s a walking statement, and he’s so himself, different to monarchy with their perfect flawless formal public personas.

Would Philip be fine with Henry dating some upper-class English guy (before coming out and everything than happened after he did)?

As long as he kept it secret, Henry could date whoever he wanted as long as he didn’t want to make it public, as long as he planned on marrying a woman and following his duty, as long as that someone was responsible, and didn’t have a “target on his back”, and Philip says Alex has.

Again, holding Philip accountable for everything he did, just explaining the reason why he did it.

Does this make sense? Because in my head it does but I don’t know if it does when I write it down

[bleedingoptimism]

It’s a little after eleven when Eddie finally manages to get Tarja to bed. It’s hard for her without her plushie. And really, Eddie is very thankful having a hyper-fixation with her toy seems to be the only ‘consequence’ of having divorced parents Tarja seems to have right now. He always worries if having two homes and constantly moving between them is good for her or not. Especially with Tommy being Tarja’s other dad, but against all odds, he’s good to her. So their kid is doing just fine. She’s happy. And if she’s happy, Eddie is happy.

He’s getting ready to open a beer and relax when there’s a knock on the door. He smiles, assuming is Steve bringing Toothless over and almost knocks his beer to the floor when he opens the door.

Steve looks… well he looks amazing, dressed to the nines. Must’ve been date night. But his eyes are red and puffy, his face covered in dark blotches, and his lips are swollen like he’s been biting them too much.

He’s hugging Toothless to his chest and he smiles at Eddie when he sees him, but he looks so sad it breaks his heart.

Eddie throws the beer behind him, sure it will land on the couch and cradles Steve’s face between his hands, “What did that asshole do?

Steve leans into his touch and shuts his eyes for a moment before sighing and stepping away from him, walking inside and sitting on the couch still holding Toothless like a lifeline. 

“Nothing, he was just-” Steve shakes his head and chuckles darkly, “He’s just so mean,” 

Eddie drops to his knees in front of him and dips his head to look Steve in the eye just like he did that day in the park.

“Break up with him,” he says.

“I can’t.”

“Tommy doesn't deserve you, Steve. You are worth so much more than what that asshole makes you feel. You deserve better. More. Everything,” Eddie pleads, placing his hands on Steve’s knees and squeezing, “If it’s because of Tarja, we’ll figure something out, ok? Lots of people keep in contact with their parent’s significant other after they break up” He rushes, the speech he didn't have quite prepared last week coming out of him in a single breath, “We are friends, right? So you can still visit and see her. Visit me. You don’t have to stop being a part of our lives.” 

Steve is staring at him right now like Eddie just gifted him the moon and he’s so beautiful it’s kind of hard for Eddie to keep eye contact, but he squeezes Steve’s knees again to ground himself and does. Steve needs to know he’s very serious about this. About him.

Eyes shining, Steve takes a deep breath and nods slowly, a tear falling down his cheek that Eddie follows with his eyes and watches until it hides under Steve’s v-neck shirt.

“Hey, even I didn’t put up with Tommy's shit for Tarja’s sake and I birthed her,” he jokes awkwardly, trying to make him laugh and feels like doing a little victory dance when Steve snorts cutely,

“Okay,” he hiccups.

“Yeah?” Eddie smiles back at him, relieved.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “Fuck Tommy.” And drops back on the couch, looking exhausted, “Can I stay here tonight?” he asks in a whisper, like he’s afraid Eddie will say no. As if.

“Yeah, of course,” Is what he answers, and has half a mind to invite him into his bed but knows it’s a terrible idea. So he lends Steve his favorite flannel pajamas and sets blankets and a pillow on the couch and they say their goodnights.

And if he does a little dance when he closes the door to his room, no one is there to see.

In the morning, Steve stays for breakfast. And attempts to kill Eddie by making his heart explode, cooking it himself from scratch with Tarja’s help, who is so happy she won’t stop running around the kitchen making Toothless fly and sing about ‘happy family breakfast time’.

It’s actually hard to tell if she’s happier to have her plushie back or that Steve is there. Eddie, on the other hand, knows exactly what he’s happiest about. Death by tenderness. Is that a thing? He amuses himself thinking about a couple csi’s with sunglasses saying it, 

“He died because he witnessed something too cute,”

“Ah yes, death by fondness. I’ve seen it before.”

After, Eddie walks him to the door and Steve smiles sweetly at him, and holds his hand, squeezing it once before letting go, “Well, see you. I guess,” he says bashfully and there’s a moment there, a second where time stops and Eddie thinks he should kiss him. Wants to kiss him, needs to kiss him.

But he doesn’t. Because Steve is still dating Tommy, and just because he said he was going to break up with him doesn’t mean he wants to start something new with Eddie.

Eddie himself called him his friend for the first time last night for christ sake. ‘Fucking chill’ he thinks to himself.

🧸

And then a week goes by without hearing a word from Steve. But Eddie doesn't hold it against him.

At first, he figures he needs time to think but then he starts to wonder if he really is going to break up with Tommy. Four days in, he gets paranoid about it. Maybe Steve got brainwashed into thinking Eddie is bad for him. Maybe Tommy told him Eddie was putting ideas in his head, that he shouldn’t talk to him anymore… With him telling Steve to break up with his boyfriend and all... 

He’s well aware of how manipulative Tommy can be and has seen the way he belittles Steve to keep him around, so he knows it’ll be hard for Steve to actually go through with it.

And he can’t exactly show up at Tommy’s and steal Steve away, no matter how appealing the idea might be. The only thing he can do is just think of Steve, wish him well, and send him strength to do what he needs to do. At the end of the day, it needs to be his decision. His choice.

As Tommy’s week with Tarja approaches he starts getting more and more anxious, wondering if it’ll be Steve or Tommy who picks her up.

When the day finally arrives, and the doorbell rings, Tarja runs to open the door and Eddie peeks his head through the hallway.

“Daddy!” Tarja screams.

“Hey, Tata! You ready?” Tommy says and Eddie steps into the hall to greet him too.

“Not yet!” Tarja chuckles and Tommy smiles at her,

“Okay, go get ready. I’ll wait here,”

Eddie walks to the door and leans on the doorframe, “Hey,”

“Hi. Long time no see,” Tommy says and then adds, “You look great,”

“You don’t,” Eddie answers, because it’s true. He looks like shit. Greasy hair, bags under his eyes, chapped lips, wrinkles on his clothes, “What happened?”

“Steve broke up with me.” 

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he smiles, he doesn’t even try to hide it, “He did?”

“Don’t smile, fucker,” Tommy says but there’s no heat behind it. He knows he deserves it.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, not sorry at all.

“Stop,” Tommy whines because Eddie’s smile is actually getting bigger,

“Sorry,” he repeats and then clears his throat, “Did he tell you why?”

“Because I’m a horrible person,” Tommy groans.

“Hey, the first step is to ad-”

“To admit it, yeah, yeah. I know” Tommy interrupts him, groaning again.

Eddie sighs, and punches Tommy’s shoulder lightly, “Look, Tommy, I’m just going to say this because, well… you are pathetic. You need to do better.” And then he points to his back, to where Tarja’s disappeared to get her stuff, “She’s going to grow up and realize you are an awful person and she’s not going to want you in her life. And I’m not going to dissuade her from it, because I already don’t want you to be in mine, you know that, right?”

Tommy looks at him seriously and then nods once, fast and hard. Like he gets it. Like he agrees and is determined to change. And Eddie hopes for Tarja’s sake he is. But knows, deep in his heart, that either way, she’s going to be fine.

“Also, just a heads up. I’m in love with Steve and I’m going to ask him out,” he adds in a rush when he hears Tarja running up behind him.

“You are shitting me,” Tommy whispers, shocked and clenching his teeth.

Eddie laughs, “Nope,” he says, closing his lips loudly around the P.

“Eddie,” Tommy warns him like he’s waiting for Eddie to say he's joking.

“What? I hear he’s single,” Eddie smirks.

“You motherfuc- Hey Tata!” Gathering Tarja in his arms, Tommy drops the subject but he glares at Eddie as he kisses Tarja’s cheek goodbye and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ as he’s leaving. Eddie closes the door and starts laughing at the look on Tommy’s face.

He needs to call Steve.

He tries a couple of times but he doesn’t pick up and he starts worrying Steve might not actually want to talk to him, and then there’s a knock on the door but Eddie, too preoccupied with his anxiety, opens without looking, thinking Tarja forgot something.

When he doesn't hear her, Eddie looks up from his ‘ignored calls’ screen to see nonother than Steve standing there, looking nervous and like a fucking dream with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. A fucking bouquet of flowers. For him. For Eddie. All different shades of red, because he knows is his favorite color.

Eddie just blinks at him a couple of times and Steve flushes even more and drops the hand holding up the flowers, scratches the back of his neck nervously, “This was stupid, the flowers were fucking stupid. They are stupid. I’m stupid, right?”

A laugh bubbles out of Eddie and he grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and pulls him inside. He closes the door once they are both in and slams Steve against it, crushing their lips together. Steve circles his arms around Eddie and holds him close, instantly returning the kiss with fervor. 

They kiss as if it were fate. They kiss until it's hard to breathe and Eddie pulls away only to kiss him again, and again, and again.

“Not stupid,” he murmurs between kisses and feels Steve’s smile against his lips.

Eventually, Eddie takes a step back and lets Steve into his home properly, “Hi,” he says cheesily.

“Hi,” Steve says back grinning, then he lifts up the bouquet again, which is now completely ruined by him still holding it strongly while they made out like crazy, and his smile drops,

“Shit,” he pouts cutely, god Eddie wants to eat him. He laughs and takes the flowers anyway, putting them in an empty glass bottle, because he doesn’t own a flower vase, because he’s a normal human being. ‘Who the fuck owns a flower vase?’

“Come here,” he says, holding out both hands for Steve to take and follow him.

Steve takes his hands but doesn't move, instead swings them from side to side, “Wait, let's talk,”

Fuck, yeah. They should. That’s a good idea. Fuck. Damn, Steven Whatever-The-Fuck-Is-His-Middle-Name Harrington and his sensible and very logical choice…

Eddie huffs exaggeratedly making Steve chuckle and redirects them to the couch, where they sit still holding hands, “Alas,” he says dramatically, “You are right, we should talk. I actually wanted to ask you out properly, not debauch you the second you walked through the door. Sorry about that” he lies, not sorry at all, again.

Steve blushes and smiles, drawing little circles with his thumbs on Eddie’s hands, “Yeah me too. I wanna do this right. Ask you out. Go on dates. I think we should take this slow,”

Eddie makes a face and groans at that. He doesn't want to take it slow. He wants Steve to move in right now or something. Steve rolls his eyes amused at his interruption and keeps going,

“I came here to ask you out the right way because I want you to know I’m committed. But we should think about how this will affect Tarja… and Tommy too. We should go out a few times, spend some time alone, and I want you to meet my friends and my parents and I want to meet your friends and your uncle too and just do this properly and-”

Eddie interrupts him with a kiss, he can’t take it anymore, he’s been dying to kiss Steve for months now and he’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes Eddie insane, makes him feel like he needs to ruin him, but in a nice way, like with devotion and love.

Steve lets go of his hands to wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist and hoists him until he’s straddling Steve. Eddie leans his elbows on Steve’s shoulders, and buries his hands in his hair, pulling and messing with it.

“Okay but have you considered having hard, hot, wet sex, and then maybe we do what you said?” He asks panting against Steve’s lips and actually feeling how that punches the air out of him.

He hugs Eddie closer to his chest and whines, “Yeah okay, we can do it your way,” and gets up, lifting Eddie with him as if he were weightless. Eddie squawks and laughs all the way to his room.

🧸

They spend the week together, talking, eating, drinking, laughing and fucking. Except it’s more than that because when Eddie is inside Steve, with his tongue, his fingers, or his strap, it feels like more. It feels like love. Like fate.

Steve, still determined to take things slow, doesn’t stay there all the time, going back to Robin’s where he moved back to after breaking up with Tommy. He actually brings her over one day and the three of them spend the afternoon together. Eddie decides they are going to be best friends immediately because Robin is hilarious and merciless. When Steve gets back the next day he kisses Eddie so good and hard his knees almost give out on him and tells him he has Robin’s seal of approval. Something he knows Tommy never got.

When the week passes Eddie says goodbye theatrically as if they were cross-star lovers in a bad soap opera and Steve chuckles and calls him ridiculous but kisses him so passionately that Eddie drags him right back inside and they say goodbye again a few hours later.

They had decided to wait until Eddie talked to Tarja about her feelings over Tommy’s and Steve’s breakup and whether she still wanted Steve around or not before having him over again.

But when Tarja gets back home she’s gloomy and silent. She hugs Eddie in greeting when she arrives and then spends the rest of the day lying face down on the floor and occasionally sighing loudly, obviously trying to make Eddie ask her what’s wrong.

And really, Eddie shouldn't find it as funny as he does, but he thinks about calling Wayne and telling him he gets it now when Wayne used to tell him he had too much personality.

Eventually, he lies on the floor next to her and asks. Tarja looks at him with big sad eyes and says, “I haven't seen Steve in a million years! And Daddy said he is not his boyfriend anymore! So I’ll never see him again and I miss him”

Eddie coos at her, “I’m sorry you miss him little dragon, but you can totally see him again! Would you like me to call him? Since he’s my friend too?” Already trying to strategize on how to tell her they are more than friends.

Tarja lights up and jumps off the floor and onto Eddie, punching the breath out of him, “Yes! Yes! Call Steve! Steve smiles more when he’s with you than he did with daddy anyway. Why don’t you boyfriend him instead?”

Well… that was easy.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “That’s a great idea sweety, go grab my phone,”

Tarja runs and grabs Eddie’s phone off the table and hands it to him, he doesn’t bother getting off the floor so she kneels beside him listening attentively as he dials Steve’s number. 

“Hi, handsome, you talked with Tarja already?” Steve greets him after it rings twice.

“Yeah about that, turns out Tarja talked to me, actually,” he chuckles, “Hi, by the way”

“Hi,” Steve repeats lovingly and laughs, “What do you mean?”

“She had this awesome idea!” he says winking at her and she covers her mouth with her tiny hands to hide her giggles, “That, since you are not with Tommy anymore, you should be my boyfriend instead,” he continues, voice going soft and chuckles when he hears Steve's breathless ‘oh’ on the other side of the line, “Come over?”

“Of course, gimme an hour? I'm with a client” Steve hums and Eddie whispers he’ll give him anything he asks for and hangs up.

An hour later Tarja is still lying on the floor, only now it’s with papers and crayons spread all around her when the doorbell rings. She looks up at Eddie excitedly and he nods at her, “Go on then”

Tarja runs to the door and opens it wide to reveal Steve standing there as beautiful as ever, giving Eddie a deja vu of the first time he saw him.

“Papa Steve!” Tarja yells and jumps up to hug him.

Steve gasps and falls to his knees with her in his arms and looks up at Eddie with shocked wet eyes.

‘So much for taking it slow,’ Eddie thinks with a smirk.

Fin.

☝️first part

☕🥐💕?

[pinkyqil]

- Esas Perras Son Muy Molestas

Masterlist

Featuring: barcelona femeni x teen reader

Summary: r saying little shit stuff and learning actions comes with consequences.

Notes: this was honestly meant for monday but I hard work so my apologies hope you guys enjoy this chapter of crazy chiqi and feel free to send in ask hcs or requests that you want. Lots lf love and hope you have a great Friday 🩷

It was the final for the supercopa de españa you were very happy as you were playing your very first big tournament for the team. But the energy you we're giving off was not very happy mostly irritated.

The score was currently 0-0 but with how both teams were playing getting into each other it felt like internity. As a teen the way you view things is very differently from your older teammates.

And right now was definitely one of them everyone on the bench were making comments.

on how they wanted to make an impact too the match or just talking away. but you on the other hand was just getting tried of what you we're seeing and your last straw was when the real madrid player's were being infuriated.

You didn't know what was going on in your mind but yelled out from the top of your lungs."esas perras son muy molestas".

Hearing the crowd behind you laugh made you take a moment to process what you just said as you immediately felt Ingrid hand go over your mouth as aitana scored a goal.

"No acabo de decir eso".You told her

"Yes you did". She said with an obvious sigh of discouragement.

"Ai Siéntete orgulloso, no todo el mundo es tu tipo de valentía por ser tan directo". You heard jana say.

"Don't encourage her". Ingrid told her

"dios mío". You said sliding in your jersey

"God can't help you chiqi cause I'm pretty sure the speakers and crowd heard you". Esmee who was normally reserved told you.

"no no no no there all going to come for my head".you said refereeing to the older players who were currently on the pitch.

"olvida haber hecho tu amiga terminado".vicky said laughing at you.

Before you could reply you heard your name being called to come in as a sub making your worries go pitter patter the rest of the game finished with a well deserved performance from the team.

You didn't really expect to act out like this on your first biggest competition.

After the trophy lifting and team pictures you alexia and Irene were asked for an interview.

"Entonces, durante el juego, ¿cómo te sentiste acerca de la intervención de insultos?". The reporter asked.

"qué". Was what the two said before for giving you a shocked look.

"Solo dice basura, cosas de los periodistas, realmente no pasa nada". You tried telling them and rushing the interview.

"dije ¿cómo se sintieron con tus comentar- before he could finish is sentence you cut him off saying."nada, no sienten nada más que felicidad después de ganar el juego de hoy, gracias por tu tiempo".

Grabbing both confused woman's hand heading to the changing room.

"qué quiso decir él".alexia asked you

"como si no dije nada".you told her rushing into the changing room.

"¿Alguien nos va a decir qué pasó? . This time it was Irene's voice that was heard in the locker room.

"olvida decirlo solo descaro twitter causa chiqita loquita ya es tendencia por su molestia". Mapi told them.

"mapi te voy a matar".you told her while signing to her and your neck.

"puedo explicarlo".You told the two women who were now standing infront lf you with a phone in there hand which was clearly repeating what you had said earlier.

"Será mejor que tengas uno bueno, de hecho estás haciendo entrenamiento extra". Irene said looking more annoyed rather than pissed.

"mapi podría haberme salido con la mía pero no, tu bocaza siempre arruinaba mis planes". You told her looking more than irritated.

"de nada". she said laughing straight at you.

"oh pequeña mierd-".

"termina esa frase te reto" . Alexia told you while the whole locker room was trying not to laugh so they wouldn't have to join you in running extra laps.

Least to say you learnt your lesson if you wanted to curse out players you should do it quietly next time.

[chuusheartattck]

THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO (TTME)

Chapter 6- Apologies ☕️

You’ve woken up to the sounds of the birds chirping and the morning sun peaking in through the windows. You would’ve loved waking up in the giant room provided by Ayaka, if only you weren’t so violently hung over.

The feeling of being incredibly nauseous while remembering some of the memories from last night, started hitting you like a semi truck.

Why did you have to drink so much? You’re never drinking again.

You always say this but never actually stick through with your word.

You loved being drunk but hated the consequences that come the next morning. Your phone was buzzing with new messages. Have you always hated the sounds of notifications? Or was it the headache talking? Annoyed, you checked your phone.

Bergrudgingly, you got up. As soon as you stood up however, you felt like you needed to throw up.

Quickly, you rushed to the toilet. Expecting for something to come out. Nothing did.

“I hate being hungover.” You quickly muttered before making your way to the dining room.

You noticed everyone had arrived before you. They all looked like shit. Including you. Mona was in deep explanation of how she read Yae’s birthchart. Apparently the woman has a lot of baggage.

You sat down in between Hu Tao and Mona.

Ayaka handed you a bowl of miso soup, “It’s for your hangover. You look rough.” She smiles.

You quietly thank her. The miso soup looks good but were you able to eat this without throwing it back up? You took your chances and fed yourself.

Luckily you didn’t.

Before you could finish the soup, Hu Tao turned towards you.

“So are you going to explain what happened last night?” She questioned.

You cleared your throat and explained your experience at the party. From start to finish. Everyone had listened intently to your story. Someone would occasionally gasp.

.

.

.

“Well he sure does know how to act like he cares about someone.” Mona mentioned. Scaramouche is actually a good actor.

It seems like he practiced on you the most.

As you were showing the group the texts you sent to Scaramouche and Childe, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Childe. Everyone began freaking out.

“Shit what do I say??” You were panicking because you didn’t really expect him to answer.

“Maybe an apology?” Lynette suggested.

So fucking annoying.

He’s so fucking annoying.

How can he be like this? Why was he being like this? You heavily sighed. The audacity of this man.

Lynette looked up at you, “Is everything alright?”

You put your phone in the middle of the table and stood up.

“Yes. Everything is so perfect.” You replied sarcastically, “Ayaka thank you for the breakfast and sleepover. Have fun everyone reading those stupid ass texts. I’ll be getting ready to leave.”

When the words left your mouth, you walked away and towards the room you were sleeping in.

As you were packing up you heard a knock at the door.

It was Hu Tao. She was returning your phone.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. He’s such a big dick. You don’t deserve this. She pulled you into a hug.

“It’s ok, don’t worry about it. It’s how he is.” You reassured her.

She helped you pack the rest of your stuff.

You then said goodbye to everyone and got inside your car.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: Hi I’m back! Ik its been a few days but I haven’t been feeling the best so I took a while to update. I’m still sick but I feel better enough to update even if this chapter was a bit short. Another written chapter I hope you guys like it!! Also pls ignore the typo in furina’s text I meant to put ‘parties’ 😭

ALSOOO lmk if you guys want your users to be added to this au and i’ll make you a twitter user :)

Synopsis: You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.

Taglist: @skyoverkill1 @quacking-simp @lolmeowing @astro-stars @kaitfae @sl-vega @veekoko @scarawiki @yuminako @samyayaya @kur0kki @practicoi @kukikoooo @scaraenthusiast1 @shutingstar @lloovvv @moonjellyfishie @miy-svz @xionri @lalalaloveallmydays @hearts4lizzzz @kathiwis @state-of-grac3 @morgyyyyyyy

[rockrosethistle]

TSH hot takes 🔥

-Julian was actually a dick. He isolated and groomed vulnerable students (do you think it's a coincidence that every single member of the greek class had a difficult home life?) into thinking that these very outdated concepts of love and power were good for them. He compared their dangerous behaviour to that of ancient gods. Then, rather than face the consequence of his actions and take accountability, he left when it mattered.

-Charles was an asshole, but he's not a scapegoat. You cannot blame all the problems on Charles, he was an addict as a result of his trauma. He needed help. This doesn't excuse him from his actions, but it explains them. At the beginning of the book he physically could not bring himself to hurt Camilla. He's not a "bad" person. He's a sick person.

-Bunny didn't deserve to die, but he was also probably going to condemn the group at some point. He didn't just die for no reason. (Believing that Bunny's death was truly pointless also means believing that Henry was an actual psychopath who killed his friend for shits and giggles.)

-Judy, Cloke and Sophie ended up the happiest. That is literally the moral of the book. Judy wasn't all tortured when Richard didn't want to hang out with her, she shook it off and kept living her life. That's literally the point.

-Richard was never in love with Camilla. He loved the idea of her, but didn't see her as a person. Because of this specific dynamic and the fact the Richard is narrating, we know nothing about her actual personality. Anything he says can be disputed, and a lot of it contradicts itself.

-Francis is not blameless or unproblematic, but of the group he probably had the best intentions. Most of his behaviour that can be interpreted as creepy can be chalked up to Richard's internalized homophobia (remember, everything is told from his point of view, and Francis was a gay man in the 80's) When you look objectively at what Francis did, you see that he made a pass, got rejected, then dropped it and moved on. There is (i think) one more attempt made later on in the book, and that is furthered by Richard and only interrupted when Charles shows up.

-Henry may be the metaphorical representative of death when talking about the book, but in the narrative it's important to remember he's also just a person. Otherwise everything he does seems beyond question, and he's assigned this label as just "evil." He was 21!! Literally still a kid

-There were not good or bad characters. The reason they hit so hard is because each of them are so layered. They all have good traits and bad traits, but calling one "evil" takes away their humanity and dismisses their complexity that makes them so great.

[spitblaze]

Mouthwashing spoilers below cut, played through it again today bc i accidentally nullified all of my achievements through the dev console. oops

Okay so the first time I played through it I was high and it was very late at night. Already a great start but it means I missed some shit my first time through and I'm already not exactly stellar at more abstract literary analysis. LUCKILY this site is full of people who are way better at that than I am (and im convincing my partners who are also way better at it than I am to play it soon too).

Luckily I'm better at lit analysis than whoever the weirdo on the Steam forum saying this game is bad because it 'doesn't punish Jimmy for his actions enough' as if this isnt a horror game primarily about his guilt-induced mental breakdown and if i have to see anyone else say that anya is a poorly written character im going to poorly write them out of existence because I'm inclined to believe that if you think that you either weren't fucking paying attention or have subscribed to the Joss Whedon school of feminist writing which is 'good writing of women is when they are girlboss'. like sorry shes too much of a depressed traumatized Fawn Response rape victim for your liking. jesus christ

Anyway the game being short DOES lend itself well to multiple playthroughs, which honestly is for the best because its really one of those stories that reveals a lot more on a second viewing. There's a Lot going on here but as far as I can tell, the biggest themes here are what it means to 'take responsibility' as well as autonomy and the loss thereof. The responsibility one is for sure the most obvious one, how many times in the game does it directly say 'take responsibility'? How many times does Curly say 'I'll fix this', how many times does Jimmy say he'll 'fix this'? And ultimately, how successful are either of them?

Curly's a good leader, sure, but how much does he just let slide for the sake of 'the big picture'? Daiske was a last minute addition. He's a good kid, but he didn't make a stink about it. Gotta think about the big picture. Anya has told him about what Jimmy did to her. Nothing. 'What would you do?' 'Anything.' But nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm not gonna sit here and say that Curly is 100% every bit as evil as Jimmy, if someone is raped the blame falls squarely on the rapist- but it's completely on Curly for not taking action against Jimmy for the sake of the big picture. He really could've done anything. Fucking anything. It's not necessarily on Curly to foresee that Jimmy's stress response would be to end it and take everyone else with him. But it was on him to do something about a known violent assault and its perpetrator before anyone else got hurt. He's not a perpetrator, but he's an accessory. He may not have deserved the punishment he got. But he's nothing if not agonizingly aware of the consequences for not taking responsibility for the actions of his crew.

Jimmy, meanwhile, is obsessed with responsibility despite the fact that he's incapable of actually handling it, from the very start. It's not clear when exactly he assaulted Anya, but I assume it was after Curly broke the news to the crew. The moment even a shred of consequences emerge, the minute Anya tells him that she's pregnant, his first course of action is to deliberately sabotage the ship. Murder-suicide. He says he's sorry. That he made a mistake. As if there were not multiple, deliberate steps at which he could've stopped and realized what he was doing. After everything, he tells the crew it was Curly's fault so he could have more of that responsibility he desired so much. Not that anyone respects it except maybe Daisuke.

But he can't handle even the most basic of responsibilities there, either. A handful of menial tasks and he fucking snaps at the woman he hurt to begin with, even when she only ever acts the way she does around him to avoid further hurt. 'Take responsibility'. But he can't. Over and over he'll tell the vision of Curly he's made in his heads that he's sorry, that he'll fix things, that they'll all make it. And then he just keeps making things worse. And worse. And worse. Anya's going to hurt Curly, she's suspect and violent. Swanson won't let them into Utility. That's suspect, he's going to get out of here and leave everyone else behind. They both have to be stopped. Don't you trust me, Daisuke? Don't you trust your captain? That's why YOU have to go through the vent. He cannot fucking take responsibility, only goad others into doing things and handling things as underhandedly as possible. No wonder Curly laughs when he takes the gun. Anya spent all this time trying to keep it from him. And he got it anyway, because that'll all Jimmy knows how to do. Take and resent and hurt. His own twisted version of 'responsibility'.

It genuinely pisses me off how many people write off Anya as being 'badly written' or write her off altogether, especially considering the VERY OBVIOUS character she's based off of, being Wendy Torrance in The Shining (Yes I'm aware there's baggage around that particular character's strength of writing too, but I'm not about to go off on a rant about a movie ive only absorbed through cultural osmosis). Like...she's not a perfectly written character, no- her arc is less about her as a character and more about the things that have been done to her. Sexual assault used as a narrative device, nothing new there- it's at least less egregious in a horror story, where fear and trauma and terrible things happening to good people is kinda the whole thing. My big issue with Anya's writing is that we didn't get more of her- more exploration of how Jimmy's actions affected her, more exploration of how her and Curly are that much more alike after the crash- it's not a very long game to start, and given her character and the situation I don't necessarily disagree with her going out the way she did at the time she did. It just would've been nice if they'd utilized the nonlinear structure of the whole thing to explore her more, y'know?

Given Jimmy's PoV it makes sense that he's more fixated on the consequences of raping her than on the woman herself, but from the Doylist perspective, like...c'mon, give us SOMETHING more to work with. And like I said before, it pisses me off that people see a woman who doesn't immediately fall into the 'girlboss' role when shit hits the fan and then write it off, as if the premise of the story isn't about everyone's reaction to a hopeless situation spearheaded by a violent, manipulative, self-centered shithead. Swansea's the most capable person here outside of Jimmy and Anya, and I've yet to see anyone saying his character was weak because he spends most of his time drinking and raging instead of taking action. I'm mostly just upset that I don't have much more to say about her outside of her relationship to the rest of the crew. One could argue that most of what we are is defined by our relationships to others, and the nature of the game means that we don't really get a deep peek into anyone's psyche besides Curly and Jimmy.

I like how she invokes the metaphor of that dead pixel, the detail that sticks out like a sore thumb to her, always in the back of her mind, ever-present, that Curly can't see and never will because he's too busy looking at the big picture. I like how they establish the nature of Jimmy and Anya's relationship without being too direct, putting up that brave fawn act while he's there- she has to, the ship is only so big and they're so off course that rescue seems impossible- but she doesn't sleep in the same room as everyone else, she won't confide in Jimmy, and his mistreatment of her was what finally drove her over the edge. Jimmy's more concerned about what she might do to Curly that what she might do to herself, and he KNOWS that she's prone to mental breakdowns- often caused by himself, if not by Curly's state. The whole thing is tragic, but Anya's case is particularly saddening. Even after her death, she's paraded around like a puppet so that Jimmy can have his macabre little party. He doesn't care about her. He never did. And yet he's haunted by her, the 'sexual thoughts of cartoon horses' intermingling with his strange psychosexual hatred of the nurse just trying to do her job, haunted by the consequences of his actions because he's too much of a fucking coward to really, honestly and truly, take responsibility.

Swansea and Daisuke I have less to say about, ultimately. They feel a lot more straightforward in their narratives, at least from my perspective. Daisuke's a dumb kid with a shitty internship and he's so upbeat and positive that it genuinely pisses Swanson off, which means that he does ultimately care about the kid. A+ dynamic. Seems like a prick on an initial playthrough, but on the second run through I get it. He's old enough, he's seen enough, he knows exactly what Jimmy is and doesn't buy his responsible act for a second. He's not a captain. He's just some shithead who acts like he can handle it but flees in the most destructive way possible the second the consequences rear their head. He's a man that, even in the throes of substance abuse, does a better job of taking responsibility than Jimmy ever could, and arguably better than Curly ever did. Instead of just shrugging his shoulders at a last minute intern, he took him under his wing and started training him. When shit hits the fan, his instinct is to protect Daisuke- the one person who IS his responsibility. When he really, truly does not believe there is anything else that can be done, he puts him out of his misery. Maybe he was saving that cryo pod for him, too. It's hard to say, but the fact that he's the only one who stood up to Jimmy and saw him for what he was makes him that much more likable.

Daisuke...oh, Daisuke. He couldn't have known this was coming. He was doing his best, he just did what he could, he tried to be helpful and kind and be a good person. And for that, Jimmy used him and got him killed because he was too much of a goddamn coward to apologize to Anya, to see her as anything besides a nuisance at best. I get why Jimmy is so fixated on his death- as far as he's concerned, his first real failure, since Anya was such a non-issue that he didn't even have anything to say about her lifeless body. It wasn't just his inaction that got this kid killed, it was his actions. He had every opportunity to use even a single ounce of his brain and recognize that there are other people on the ship besides him and Anya, to recognize that these psych evals aren't just for the sake of the individual. And for that, Daisuke died. Way to go, hero.

The autonomy shit...god. Psychological trauma can be just as incapacitating as physical harm, can't it? Anya completely changing her demeanor after being assaulted, her body no longer just her own. I want to see the horror of that from her perspective, the invasion and the terror and revulsion of having something like that growing inside you. How sickening it must feel, how just the knowledge of its existence makes living that much worse. How the man who did it is still nothing but despotic. Curly, finally seeing Jimmy for who he truly is firsthand. It's all well and good to believe in someone, to trust them and want to help them overcome their struggles. But being choked and beaten and abused by them, day after day after day, because you had the audacity to sit a little higher on the totem pole than they did, because you had what they wanted, because they couldn't stand seeing someone better off then they were.

It's kind of mind-boggling, honestly. I've...kinda been there, with people who I know are still there, they're fully in there and aware and the same person they've always been, but their means to communicate with the outside world is cut off. I was fortunate enough to have been listening to a lot of disability activists around the time my aunt started losing her speech. It seemed a lot of times that the only people who really recognized that she was still there were me and my uncle. Even my mom, her older sister, inseparable for life, started treating her like she was suddenly a different person, not capable of really understanding her or wanting or doing things for herself.

So, like- not trying to be selfish or anything, just doing the autistic 'oh i can relate to this' bit, particularly about Jimmy projecting all of this shit onto the captain when he barely has the capacity to laugh or cry, let alone speak. His savior. His best friend. His bitter enemy. Beating him relentlessly while giving him his medicine for having the audacity to be an inconvenience. Let's eat some cake. I want to go home. Curly is just a man, and Jimmy regards him as helpless, antagonistic, and a god all at once. He'll thank me for this one day.

So uh. Many thoughts, head full. After the end of the bizarro sequence with Curly heading to the cockpit, the door is very small. A black pixel, the one stuck in the back of Anya's mind. A graveyard full of mausoleums, every one of them with the same epitaph as the bizarro one for Daigo in ch 14, and the one you can enter with his face on it. Not a single one for Anya. The Polle at the end having the same blue text as Anya, haunting the narrative just as much as Curly, just less overt. I'll fix this. I'll take responsibility. God. God jesus fuck damn hell christ son of a bitch. Fuck capitalism for putting their employees on such tight strings and skeleton crews that a collective pink slip can send people into this kind of spiral (or rather can give Jimmy a good reason to convince everyone else that all of them are completely fucked except for the captain and Daisukle) and fuck Jimmy. Fuck him. My one other complaint besides the feminist critique above is that theres some sequences that go on a bit longer than they really should (ch. 14 getting the mouthwash, most of the vent segments).

Fuck you, Jimmy.

I hope that gunshot hurt.

[masterqwertster]

I so agree, with your thoughts about Ashton!

It's odd, to me, that Ashton in particular has garnered so much hatred. If you look back on all of Taliesin's characters across every campaign, he's ultimately not that different in personality from the others, save maybe Caduceus. Percy, Molly, and Ashton are all people who have been deeply beaten down by the circumstances they were forced into, and they gained a rough exterior to protect themselves because of it.

They're snarky, and try to act aloof to keep people at an arm's length, but at their core, they still have bleeding hearts that love much more deeply than they probably wish they did. In other words, they are interesting, multilayered characters, that don't just have one note. It's strange then, that these same characteristics are so widely celebrated with Percy and Molly, but are treated as reasons to hate Ashton in the same breath.

Taliesin is a master at making characters that make you think, and I think Ashton deserves to be celebrated as such, just as much as the others!

To be honest, I can't speak much of previous PCs' reception since I only got into CR Tumblr around Bells Hells arriving in Yios, but I think the difference is framing.

Taliesin has stated that his through-line on his PCs is the characteristic Confidently Wrong.

I would guess that the reason Ashton is catching flak is because:

a) they've got shit Charisma and Taliesin plays that as Doesn't Know What to Say and/or Doesn't Know When to Shut Up. Which on a disillusioned/cynical punk is... abrasive to say the least. They tell their truths with little to no filter, or much thought at times about how true those things are for others. Meanwhile, Molly and Percy are charming in carny and nobility ways respectively, while Caduceus has a calm, homey charm. Ashton is semi-intentionally off-putting, and pretty constantly cranky to some degree from chronic pain.

and b) Recently, Ashton is Confidently Wrong about a subject any attentive watcher can tag as being wrong and has major consequences on the world if acted on. Like, yes, you don't want a heartless, powerful murderer to push the Doomsday Button. But your group of caring, weak(? not really anymore) chucklefuck friends pushing the button doesn't change its doomsday nature or really make it any better. Also, all your information on what the Doomsday Button does exactly is suspect. I don't think any of the other's Confidently Wrong subjects were so potentially devastating for more than themselves or their parties rather than the globe. It's easier to grant grace when you're fucking over less people.

Now do I wish Ashton would get a clue that releasing Predathos is bad, period? Absolutely. But I also have been watching him and when they get an idea in their head, he tends to stick to it until proven wrong (think the Spark mess. Fearne hesitated last second, Ashton didn't). And the idea in their head right now is: The gods need to leave, their thrones need to be destroyed.

I think part of Ashton's rage at the gods that fuels this idea is wanting someone to blame that isn't himself for his shit life, and finding the gods a good target for blame, as Taliesin has mentioned on 4-Sided Dive before. And I think part of it is that FCG did a lot of proclaiming to be on the anti-Ludinus/Predathos stuff to save his goddess, and then he died as part of their missions, and then Ashton was shown a video about how the gods absolutely will sacrifice their followers to save their own asses. Which is kind of the situation FCG died in, if you slant it a bit and act like FCG wasn't mainly choosing to save their friends in the moment rather than the gods long-term. So it probably feels better to Ashton to throw some of that anger about FCG making the sacrificial play that he's been trying so hard to prevent at the gods who FCG was trying to serve.

And I get that not everyone wants to do the analysis on why Ashton is picking the path he is. That they don't want to take time to acknowledge his lack of social graces and the bias of his views, and would rather just get to attacking the faulty, insensitive rhetoric Ashton's spouting at the moment. But like, there's reasons Ashton is the way they are, and it doesn't hurt to acknowledge them even as you hard disagree with what's being said or strived for.

[qiu-yan]

I think if MDZS was truly about moral good, then Cultivation Society would have been fundamentally changed and everyone who tried to change it wouldn’t be dead. The fact that XXC and SL wanted to change cultivation sects from being dynastic to more merit based and they got such horrible fates is tragic. JGY wanted to use his power to help the more common folk, but he was struck down and any good he’s done is going to be tainted. WWX and LWJ choose to walk away rather than do anything in the novel, so I’m not sure if their actions can be considered a net positive. There’s only so much good they can do as wandering cultivators, there needs to be some kind of structure to help the community but most sects are unwilling to put in a lot of effort if it doesn’t benefit them specifically. There was no social change in MDZS.

thank you for the message! and sorry it took me five million years to get to it...

from a utilitarian point of view, i think you're completely correct: the one individual the novel holds up as the most righteous out of everyone has a far greater negative than positive impact on the world at large; society and the plight of the common folk are in a worse state at the end of the novel than they are at the beginning. postcanon, no matter how much individual nighthunting wei wuxian and lan wangji do, the life of your average commoner is probably going to get more dangerous. you are correct that there was in fact no social change in MDZS. shit did not change on a major scale.

two comments about this: first, the moral framework employed by MDZS is decidedly non-utilitarian. second, as you said, MDZS is not About Moral Good.

first, the moral framework employed by MDZS is not utilitarian at all. wei wuxian and lan wangji are not "righteous" in the way that someone who pulls the lever in the trolley problem can be called "righteous" via utilitarian reasoning; rather, wei wuxian and lan wangji are "righteous" in the way that someone who walks away from omelas is righteous. from a utilitarian perspective, walking away from omelas doesn't accomplish shit because the child is still suffering and one person's absence is not going to change that. from a non-utilitarian perspective, though, walking away from omelas isn't about bringing about a certain result but rather is about living in accordance to your own ideals and code of honor. it's not about helping as many people as possible or about bringing about the best possible outcome, but rather about living your own life without any regrets.

this isn't a philosophy i (a utilitarian) really buy into, but many people do find it persuasive. and though there are still some logical holes induced by protagonist-centered-morality, i do think that MDZS is overall thematically cohesive if analyzed through this non-utilitarian lens. unfortunately, one side-effect of this lens (as well as the general non-utilitarian sorts of philosophies this lens is based in) is that the story ends up somewhat handwaving actual negative consequences.

second, MDZS is not Purely About Moral Good. it has an internally consistent moral framework and it has a lot to say about what it thinks is righteousness, but it isn't a "ringing endorsement of the Correct Course Of Action" book in the same way many other works of fiction are. MDZS is about a certain kind of righteousness, but it's also a cynical condemnation of society, a remark upon the role and unreliability of rumors and hearsay, a subversion of typical xianxia/wuxia genre tropes, an interpersonal tragedy of love and duty and sacrifice and hubris, and a thorough rejection of the just world fallacy. it's also a romance.

i say that MDZS is also a social critique and a rejection of the just world fallacy because, in my view, we aren't meant to read characters like jin guangyao as "unambiguously evil characters who got what they deserved." i do think we're meant to see the way in which society turns on jin guangyao, the way in which that parallels wei wuxian's unfair downfall, and the way in which the genuine good jin guangyao did for the world is now at risk, as a tragedy. as a rather depressing insight upon the morally bankrupt nature of society. MXTX wrote it that way on purpose. you're not meant to read jin guangyao's downfall and go "he got what he deserved;" rather, you're meant to look at the black-and-white, hypocritical, and classist way in which society turns upon jin guangyao as a criticism of that society - one that builds off of the social criticism baked into wei wuxian's character arc.

there is no structural change in MDZS because MDZS is a criticism of society, not a story about how society got better. MDZS posits that this polite society is classist and morally bankrupt, and then does not fix said society. MDZS says "this polite society was hypocritical and self-serving then, and it still is now." in that sense, then, the ending is deliberately rather tragic.

in that sense, then, wei wuxian stepping away from the cultivation world does also feel like him giving up on society. which, from an interpersonal perspective, is fair: he already set himself on fire and literally died trying to do the right thing, so i don't think we can really begrudge him for not wanting to risk it a second time. maybe this time someone else can try to fix things (and die in the process). also, given his and lan wangji's absolute lack of any political ability, it's probably also for the best that they not try to involve themselves in politics to better the world, because realistically they'd probably just make a bunch of enemies and solve zero of the problems.

MDZS tries to give us some hope for the future of its fictional society: both the novel and the fandom (including me myself) posit that said hope for the future lies in the juniors, by whom wei wuxian's generation tried to better than their parents did for them. jin ling's generation certainly seems kinder than wei wuxian's generation. i think we're meant to conclude that things aren't completely hopeless because jin ling's generation, kinder and nobler than the previous one, will try to fix things.

but personally, i'm not sure how i feel about placing the hopes of social reform on the specific personalities of citizens and leaders, rather than the structures those people exist in. instead, i'm reminded me of what i wrote a few months ago about the granularity of morality in MDZS being the entire individual and not the action, by which i mean that MDZS seems to assess and conclude entire characters as "good people" or "bad people" or "complicated and morally grey people," rather than analyze the morality of specific actions. and i think it's because MDZS treats the unit measurements of morality as people rather than actions or policies, that MDZS is ultimately able to posit that the future will be better because a specific group of individuals from the next generation have kinder personalities - even though there was no structural reform. as if the state of a society is determined purely by the personalities of a select group of future leaders within it, rather than the laws and institutions that bind it and the material conditions its populations live in. to put it in other words, this is peak "we replaced the evil king with a Wise And Just king (and made no other changes), so we've saved the day!!!" thinking.

.

i feel like i rambled a lot in this response, so i apologize for its relative lack of cohesion. i hope i haven't misinterpreted your points and that i've continued the conversation in a relevant manner.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I've been thinkin' on it, and I think the biggest reason people are still insisting that Ed is just awful and abusive and whatever (aside from the racism of it all) is because the writers of OFMD fundamentally assume that viewers will like him and be on his side.

And, like, that is one hell of a reasonable assumption. Before s2 we spent a lot of time getting to know Ed; we see he's very sweet and smart and can be silly, and his self-esteem isn't great and he already has a lot of self-destructive tendencies and struggles with believing he can have nice things. These are all things we see in s2 and none of them should come as a surprise. We've gotten to know Ed and in s2 the writers assume we will be able to grant him even the barest ounce of sympathy.

"But he's being super violent and hurting the crew!" Ed's behavior at the beginning of s2 is best described as "a bit over the top" in the context of the show, and before he pulls out all the stops trying to get the crew to mutiny on him in his suicide attempt, he never actually hurts anyone except for Izzy (Izzy's the guy who threatened him and caused all this, or he'd still be crying in his blanket fort at the start of the season. OFMD has ALWAYS had a "talk shit get hit" philosophy and Izzy should not be the sole exception).

"But he never had to face any consequences for his actions!" I think almost getting beaten to death and then having to spend an entire episode convincing yourself you deserve to live is a pretty big consequence, actually.

"But he never apologized!" The group apology in s2e5 was obviously a joke (Stede clearly wrote it anyway and made Ed memorize it, look how Stede mouths along and Ed fumbles his lines), and it's pretty clear that Ed's conversation with Fang is meant to represent what he's doing with everyone. He's trying. He thinks up a way to try to give Lucius closure, even though it doesn't work, and when Fang mentions something Ed did that hurt him, Ed immediately and genuinely apologizes. It is not a wild jump to assume Ed's doing that with other characters and the show just assumes we're smart enough to figure that out from context considering how the crew are good with Ed again in s2e6.

"What if he hurts Stede/is abusive to Stede?" Multiple characters ask Stede something to this effect, Stede says "that's really stupid, of course he won't," and Stede is right. Question easily answered.

We're shown that Ed's response to being hurt and upset is not immediately violence. His first response is to go and hide and make himself feel safe - tub, blanket fort, hiding under the blanket and Anne and Mary's. Violence is Ed's response to feeling threatened. There's a difference. We're shown this over and over and over again, and frankly the only reason I think some people miss it is because they don't care to think about what's making Ed feel threatened in the first place.

It's just so clear that some people watching this show care so little about Ed and only care about what he can offer in a scene with other characters. Ed did not enjoy anything that happened at the beginning of the season - the last time we see him in s1 he's sobbing his poor eyes out and that's implied to have been consistent through s2e2. He's suicidal and having a miserable time and yes, he's hurting people who care about him, but it's not just for funsies, it's because he's trying to get himself killed. It's wild to me that some people can turn on the Ed and Stede show, see Ed pull himself out of such a terrible place by the end of the season and commit to a life with his boyfriend, and think that the show is setting up Ed to be abusive or imply he hasn't gone through any character growth and just coasted through the season.

[hannahbarberra162]

Struck Twice By Lightning, Chapter 13

18+ MDNI on Ao3

Link to all chapters

TW: jealousy

A few days later and you were laying on the bed in the early evening, resting after a huge supper. You felt like a snake, basking in the sun after a large meal. And like a snake, you didn’t think you’d want to eat again for another month. Damn Lucky and his fantastic chicken pot pie. Laying there, you heard the ringing of your den den mushi.

Puru puru puru puru puru puru

You looked at the Buggy snail and your mouth twisted. You still hadn’t called him back after all his missed calls. You didn’t want to worry him but you hadn’t wanted to hear how he was right, how you screwed up, and how you shouldn’t have gone with Shanks in the first place. The worst part of it all was, he was right. But he didn’t deserve to be left hanging for so long. You rolled off the bed and grabbed the snail, bringing it to sit on the bed with you.

“Hi.” 

“About time, babe. I was getting worried. I was gonna leave for the Grand Line if I didn’t hear back from you soon.” You felt guilty, Buggy really was a good friend.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just kinda…going through it.” Buggy hummed through the snail.

“Yeah, I’d imagine so. Everyone and their Captain saw the article. That's all anyone is talking about.” You cringed. You had some small naive hope that everyone would forget about it after the next big story broke. “You looked great, though. At least they got a good picture of you.” 

“Yeah, I mean but did you see Shanks? That asshole has never taken a bad picture.”

“Fuck him, did you at least stab him? I have no doubt that it’s his fault somehow.” You laughed, something Buggy could always get you to do. It was Shank’s fault, but you didn’t want to poison Buggy against Shanks even more.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t. Thought about it though.”

“Do you want me to come get you?” You knew Buggy’s offer was sincere. But you’d thought about that too - the only place that you’d really be safe would be with an Emperor. Buggy was strong, but not if someone like Linlin or Kaido wanted to get you. They’d send wave after wave of powerful fighters, Emperors had a shared quality of being goal oriented when they wanted something or someone.

“No, but thanks. I’m gonna ride on the Dead Horse with Stanks. I think it’ll be OK, at least for a while. If I need you, I’ll make my way out to the East Blue.”

“Like hell you will, if you need me, I’ll come out there. We can stab that idiot together, as a bonding activity.”

“Hi Buggy!” The man himself had appeared, entering the cabin through the doorway. He walked over and sat next to you on the bed, leaning back on you as if you were a sitting pillow.

“Fuck off,” Buggy replied angrily. This was the first time they’d directly interacted since you’d been on board. 

“Aw, c’mon Bugs, I haven’t talked to you in forever.” Shanks was pouting. He had a lot of love for Buggy, but it wasn’t always reciprocated. You understood why, but it still made you a little sad.

“Fuck off,” Buggy repeated. “Why do you have to fuck things up for everyone you’re involved with? It’s like the Mierdas touch, everything you touch turns to shit.” Shanks laughed.

“That’s a good one, never heard it before. But it's not true! How was I supposed to know -”

“- that your actions have consequences? Gee, Shanks, I don’t know, it’s a lesson most of us have learned by our thirties. Anyway, fuck you. Doll, listen, say the word and I’ll set sail. Kisses.” 

“Love ya, Bug.” You hung up the snail. Shanks was looking at you with an amused expression. “What?” 

“Why did you call it the ‘Dead Horse? ‘Stanks’ I get, no questions asked. Buggy’s been calling me that since we were 12.”

“Oh, ‘cus the presence of your ship is like beating a dead horse. We get it - you’re Shanks and the Red Haired Pirates . No need for all the fuss.” You waved your hand at him dismissively.

“It’s not my fault we’re greeted with fanfare everywhere! I didn’t ask for it, people like me!” Shanks scoffed.

“ Some people like you, sure,” you said, rolling your eyes with a smirk.

“And some people like being tickled,” Shanks replied. Your smirk dropped but as soon as the words came out of his mouth, he’d grabbed your foot with his hand and yanked your leg into the air. 

“Ha! Whatcha gonna do now? No other hand to tickle with!” You were weakly trying to kick him.

“This.” Shanks licked the sole of your foot, causing you to shriek. 

“Shanks!! That’s absolutely disgusting! Don’t do thaaaaa-” but you couldn’t finish your sentence as he licked it again and you were laughing. 

“You’re right, that’s too hard with one hand. How about here?” He pinned your legs under his and started tickling the inside of your thighs. You were laughing hard.

“Stanks! Stop!” You weren’t serious, you knew he’d stop if you changed your tone.

“Stanks, is it? You really want to play hard ball, huh?” He pinned your arm under a knee and tickled your side up to your armpit. You were laughing so much tears were coming out of your eyes.

“O-k ok ok I surrender! I won’t call you Stanks!” He moved off you, freeing your arm while your giggles subsided. “Fake surrender!” You launched yourself over him and started tickling him back. You knew Shanks was letting you hold him down, but it was still fun. The two of you were goofing off for a while, ending with you leaning down over him, breathing heavily, with his one large hand pinned by both of yours.

“So, what do I get for defeating the Emperor?” 

“You can keep me as a prize of war,” Shanks rasped, wrapping his legs around your waist. You moved your face closer to his. 

“Mmm, not sure about that. What makes you worth keeping?”

“This,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed you on the lips. You pressed forward, lying down on top of him, releasing his hand. You ran your nails down his chest, feeling the muscle twitch under your fingertips. You’d been having a lot of soft moments with Shanks recently. You still fell into bouts of sadness and loss, but there was no other solution you could see. You were sailing back to your island and you’d be there before you knew it. Life would continue in some kind of way, but right now you were enjoying time with your…husband.

You kissed him along his prominent collar bones, leading to the hollow of his neck. You spent some time there, flicking your tongue on the sensitive areas. Shanks was moaning, gripping your ass and thrusting up slowly, turned on by your actions. You whipped off your shirt and bra, throwing them onto the floor. You leaned forward so your breasts dangled in front of his mouth. He quickly captured one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting. He released it only to put the other in. You had undone his belt and were shimmying his pants down his legs. You didn’t want to wait any longer, you could feel you were already wet. 

You didn’t even remove your own clothes, just moved your skirt aside. You sat up a bit, taking your breasts away from Shank’s eager mouth. You hooked your panties to the side and sank down onto Shank’s eager cock. As you lowered yourself, you groaned. This is exactly what you needed. The stretch always felt good, but this time you wished you could make it last. You started bouncing on Shanks, pulling your hips down harder with every stroke.

“Come on, Love. I’m here for you,” Shanks was talking to you sweetly as you used him to get to your peak. You suddenly felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes but you didn’t know why. You shifted yourself to lay down next to him, hoping Shanks would take up the mantle and fuck you while spooning. You wanted to continue but were feeling too raw to have Shanks watch you. Shanks looked down at your face but didn’t say anything. He pulled out and fixed your panties, covering you up once more. He pulled your back flush to his front, gently kissing your face, while your tears threatened to spill.

“Where’d you go? Come back to me,” Shanks said softly. That made the dam break and you started crying.

“I’m s-sorry Shanks. I don’t know what’s w-wrong with me,” you cried, covering your face with your hands.

“Nothing’s wrong with you. Take whatever you need, I’ll always wait for you.” That just made you cry harder. Shanks comforted you until your tears ended, letting you cry into his chest. 

“S-sorry,” you eventually said. You felt bad about starting something you couldn’t finish and ending it with a huge crying session. Shanks turned your face to his and kissed you. 

“Don’t be. I love you.” You blinked. That was the first time he’d said it directly. Maybe you weren’t the only one guarding your heart this second time around. He joked and teased and beat around the bush but rarely expressed his emotions so frankly.

“I love you too.” You put your forehead against his. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” he replied. 

~~~

It didn’t take too long to get to your island since you’d only been with Shanks for a few weeks at that point. The closer you got, the more anxious you became. You were nervous to see what remained in and of your house. You were on edge as the Red Force docked near your island and you were chewing your nails to shreds as the dingy brought you to the wharf. Unfortunately, the article had brought notoriety to the island and to you, so locals were waiting to catch a glimpse of you and Shanks together.

“Leave,” was all he said. He was serious, intimidating, and had his hand resting on Gryphon's hilt. The villagers, all of whom you knew, quickly dispersed to their houses. 

“You didn’t have to do that, they’re just townsfolk.” You felt awkward that the people who sold you milk were being threatened by one of the most powerful pirates in the world.

“Did you want one of them taking another picture of you and I together to sell to Morgan?” You pursed your lips. You were hoping the story would die down, Shanks had a point. You walked hand in hand towards your little house. From the outside, it didn't look too bad. Your garden was a little trampled, but someone had been watering it.

You pushed open the now unlocked door, braced for the worst. Shanks trailed in behind you, inspecting various trinkets you’d gathered over the years. You were surprised to see most of your belongings still in their places. You went from room to room, looking for your favorite possessions - a knife from Buggy, an empty bottle from the first sake you’d sold, old pictures of friends, and they were all where you expected them to be. You went into your office and found someone had rifled through all your documents, but you had been expecting that. You yelled to Shanks through the open door of your office.

“Shanks, you’re not going to believe this, almost everything is still here! And unbroken, too. I was so sure this place would have been looted, but no -” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shock of blond hair.

“You’re welcome yoi,” said a familiar voice.

~~~

You skipped up to your old friend and gave him a hug around his middle. “Marco! What are you doing here?”

“Buggy called in a favor and asked me to watch over your house yoi. Prevent looting, stealing, that kind of thing. He said you’d be by soon and I was in the area anyway.” God, you loved Buggy. You really needed to send him a gift after all he'd done for you. 

“Honeydew, I can’t believe you kept this old shell from that beach -” Shanks was walking back to you, holding a shell in his hand. He stopped short when he saw Marco. Internally, you groaned. 

“Shanks, Marco’s the reason the house wasn’t looted. He’s been staying here.” Shanks smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Thanks, Marco. Owe ya one.” 

“That’s so kind of you, Marco, I really appreciate it.” You beamed at The Phoenix, who popped a tomato in his mouth. “Was it you who watered the plants?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t leave them parched. You have a great little house yoi. It’s so cozy and comfortable, I relaxed more than I have in years. You have great taste in interior design yoi.”

“Yeah, she does, doesn’t she?” Shanks had come to stand next to you and hooked his arm around your middle. You wanted to roll your eyes - you’d already told Shanks you hadn’t slept with Marco, he didn’t need to be jealous. 

“Thank you, I spent a lot of time over the years getting everything just right. Listen, I’d like to invite you to dinner, it’s the very least I can do,” you said. You were incredibly grateful, he’d saved you a lot of heartache. 

“-That WE can do,” Shanks interrupted with a laugh. You’d meant the invitation to include Shanks, but hadn’t specified. 

“Thank you, that sounds great. But it really was no problem yoi. Always ready to help a friend in need,” he said, smiling. He leaned against your office bookcase, holding a tomato from your garden in his other hand.

“Here, would you like it? They’ve been coming in, they’re good yoi.” Marco underhand tossed the fruit to you. Shanks let go of your waist and caught it. 

“Thanks, bud.” Shanks was trying to speak casually but was failing. He looked like he wanted to throw you over his shoulder and haul you off to the nearest cave. The twinkle in Marco’s eyes told you he was enjoying riling up Shanks. This time you did roll your eyes. This would not end well for someone, probably you. 

“Quit it,” you whispered angrily, turning to Shanks. Marco pretended not to hear. You turned back to Marco. “Please, feel free to stay here as long as you’d like. I’ll get dinner later today, I still need to get my house in order. It will be our pleasure.” You dragged Shanks out the back door of the house by his empty sleeve.

“What are you doing?!” you whisper yelled at him.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” he wasn’t yelling, but Shanks wasn’t happy. “ You’re the one trying to go on a date with Marco.” You tutted at him.

“You’re being ridiculous, and you know it. Marco was helping as a friend after Buggy called him. You heard all that, right? Behave or I’ll uninvite you to dinner.” You would too, you didn’t have a lot of patience for Shanks’s jealousy. Shanks huffed.

“Fine, we’ll have the rooster over for dinner. But I’m gonna call you my wife the entire time .” If your eyes rolled any harder, they’d be out of your head.

~~~

You hadn’t specified that you’d be the one cooking dinner for a reason. You weren’t the best cook on the Grand Line, to say the least. You bribed Lucky to make the dinner for the three of you with a large bottle of sake. He obliged and made a fantastic orange duck dish with jasmine rice. Of course, you brought out a nice bottle of wine and some sake, unsure which Marco would prefer. You were setting the table while Shanks sat in your overstuffed armchair.

“This thing’s great, we should bring it back to the ship.” You hummed in response.

“I know it’s great, that’s why I bought it. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the house and most of my belongings. It’s not like I can bring it all with me.” Shanks was messing around and finally found the lever for the footrest. He pulled it and launched himself backwards, enjoying the full recline.

“Oh yeah, this is definitely coming with us. Now, if I had this chair when you first came on board I wouldn’t have had to sleep in the bed.”

“Shanks, be serious for a minute. What should I do with the house? I can’t be here at any regular intervals. I guess I’ll have to sell it.” The thought made you sad - you really loved this house. 

“Sell it? Why?” Shanks asked.

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be here to stop anyone from taking things, and I don’t want to ask Marco -” Shanks cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“No one’s gonna take anything from here. I’m gonna spread the word that this is my vacation house. No one will touch it. And maybe we really can vacation here, this place is great.” 

“Do you think that will work?” You gnawed at your fingernail, while setting the final silverware down.

“Sure, I’m not an Emperor for nothing. Keep your house, keep your stuff, take whatever you want with you. But we’re bringing this chair.”

~~~

The dinner was lovely, except for two things. The first was Shanks and the second was Marco. Shanks was in a pissy mood, trying to cover it up but not quite succeeding. Marco kept making little comments to annoy Shanks and they hit their mark every time. 

“Thank you again for watching over my house, Marco,” you said, pouring him a cup of sake. Shanks had sat right next to you and kept trailing his fingers up your thigh during the meal. Which was incredibly obvious because he had to stop eating to do it, due to having only one hand. You slapped it away as discreetly as you could.

“My pleasure yoi. I always enjoy coming here.” Marco gave a little half smile as he sipped his drink. Shanks stiffened incrementally. “This is excellent, is this aged?”

“Yeah, this is an older batch. It’s pretty good, I was thinking of entering it in a competition.” Maybe you could enter neutral territory by talking about work.

“My wife is so modest, it’s better than ‘pretty good.” Shanks kissed your cheek. He had kept his word and was referring to you only as his wife. 

“Mh. Speaking of which, were you thinking of gifting Whitebeard another bottle for his birthday? I can bring you that tokkuri if you want to use it again.” You rubbed one temple. These two idiots were going to be the death of you.

“I didn’t know you made sake for Whitebeard. How…thoughtful of you.” Shanks said through his teeth. 

“Just once, and no, I don’t think I can. I’ll be sailing with Shanks now, and the ship isn’t a great place for brewing.” Maybe you could move to Laughtale and live happily ever after by yourself.

“So you are still married? Last you said, you wanted to get divorced yoi.” Marco said it like he was talking about the weather but you swore Shanks’s haki was starting to build. Maybe you’d kill Marco before you moved to Laughtale. Or Shanks, whichever made your life easier.

“We’re still married,” Shanks gritted out, taking your hand in his. “My wife couldn’t get rid of me so easily.” He kissed the back of your hand. Marco smiled calmly. 

“It’s rare to see you like this, Shanks,” Marco said with a raised brow and knowing smile. Shanks was already moving his hand towards you under the table. 

“Like what?” You said as you swatted Shanks’s hand for the millionth time off your inner thigh.

“Jealous. I only ever see you relaxed or serious, with nothing in between yoi. Your wife is the only person I’ve ever seen inspire such feelings in you. It’s endearing.” Shanks barked a genuine laugh.

“Only person I ever met who was worth being jealous over.”

~~~

The rest of the dinner went slightly better but not by much. You were doing the dishes while Marco insisted on clearing the table. Shanks had gone back to reclining in the chair, still drinking.

“Leave them, I’ll do it.” You felt bad your guest was helping. 

“I don’t mind yoi,” Marco replied. “Have you decided what you’re going to do with your house?” You nodded.

“Shanks is going to spread a rumor that it’s his vacation home to keep it safe. I think that’ll work. You can come here when you want though, it’s not like we’re going to be here all that often.” In your house inspection, you’d found that Marco had fixed a number of small projects you always meant to get to. That alone had earned him a permanent visit invitation. 

“Thank you, I just might. Nice to get away from my siblings now and again.” You hummed in response, still working on the dishes. “By the way, yoi. It seems like things are patched up between you two. But if you ever need to go somewhere else, you can come aboard the Moby yoi.” You paused for a moment. You hadn’t considered the possibility of staying with Whitebeard. He was another Yonko, you'd be safe. Before you could answer Shanks was by your side, leaning against you casually. But nothing about his demeanor was relaxed. Laughtale was looking like a better and better plan.

“You invited my wife to come with you?” Shanks was speaking in a clipped tone. Marco was unphased, still carrying plates. You looped your arm around Shanks, to attempt to calm him down.

“Shanks, stop. Marco, send my thanks to Whitebeard, but I’m staying with Shanks.”

“You’ve gotta be needed back on your ship, you’re the doctor after all,” said Shanks coolly. Marco laughed.

“You’re right, and I’ll be leaving soon. It’s nice to see you both again, yoi. Thank you for the dinner.” Marco deposited the remaining dishes in the sink. You said your goodbyes and you walked him to the door, giving him a final hug goodbye. He partially transformed and flew off into the night. You sighed, it was always so beautiful to watch him in his Zoan form.

“Show off,” Shanks grumbled. You walked back to the living room and plopped down on your couch. Shanks laid down next to you with his head on your lap.

“You’ve been such a brat all night! Marco was just being helpful.” You weren’t mad at Shanks but you’d wished he could contain his jealousy better.

“Inviting my wife onto another Yonko’s ship isn’t helpful, ” he replied. “Besides, Marco was provoking me!” Shanks’s mood was already on the mend with Marco gone.

“Mmm. And the all powerful Emperor just had to take the bait, right?” You jiggled your legs, making his head bounce slightly.

“I can make your thighs shake more than that,” Shanks said, turning his head towards your body.

“Show me, husband .” Shanks grinned. You hadn’t called him that yet. Hopefully the last of his jealousy would dissipate. And if not, well, jealousy sex was always fun. 

[just-some-random-blogger]

hello gorgeous! if you doesn't mind, i have an idea. yk this cliche where 1 person makes another jealous just to fire them up and to make them confess their feelings/make out/have sex. i'm always conflicted bc yes i'm a flirty person myself but if someone does it to me? cty instantly. so can you imagine daemon making reader (who's the one he knows he will marry or they're just betrothed) jealous a lot bc he's a big shit and wants her to pay all her attention to him. but he didn't thought about oh. she's cold and strong-willed. so instead of some love making she ignores him for weeks if not months not even saying go back to your whores (sorry). just want him to beg for her love and attention bc that's what he deserves. idk about smut but angst. love angst and having power over powerful men. thank u in advance! take care!

It Takes Two

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Just because you knew Daemon flirted as though it was a sport his life depended on, didn't mean he would not meet the flames of your wrath.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: daemon being a man 🤢, fem!reader, wife!reader, gaslight gatekeep girlboss, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: HI NONNIE im blushing over here with you calling me gorgeous. I love me some good old fashioned 'oh no the consequences of my actions' and a good femme fatale i hope you like it lovie HELP IT ACCIDENTALLY TURNED INTO FLUFF IM SO SORRY I DONT HAVE THE BRAIN POWER TO FIX IT sigh i guess its what God intended because my last daemon fic was dark af Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targeryenmoony @ly--canthrope Part 2 "Since You Asked So Nicely"

He sees me from atop his horse. He is already smirking because of the ladies circled around him. He only cares to dismount after I walk away. "Slow down!" Daemon calls chuckling, removing his stupid headpiece, discarding it without a care. When he manages to grab me, I turn and crush my heel onto his foot. He lurches back in pain, snorting angrily as he watches me walk away for the second time. He manages to grab me again, only this time, he is seething and has his hands locked on both my shoulders, "what has inspired your anger this time, wife?" My nostrils in anger. I shove his iron clad chest away from me, but he does not budge, "ask your admirers, prince." Daemon's lips quirk. He releases me. I storm away. He laughs as he calls a servant, instructing him to retrieve his helmet before he follows after his enraged dragon lover.

Daemon could no longer mask that he had been annoyed, no, worried, that up till now, the doors have not opened, and the person he had been waiting for all night has not arrived.

"Is something wrong, my prince?" the woman states in a ditzy manner.

She had been a pastime, a pawn in his game. She had grown honest with the alcohol, now unable to mask the fact she was, in fact, flirting with him. He liked her better when she talked about her dress, not that he could care any less about it. But at least she sounded like she knew what she was talking about, and not like she was measuring each word she would speak before it was spoken.

Daemon does not offer her a word in regard before walking away.

He walks up to the guard that should not be in the banquet this evening, not alone, and surely not enjoying it, as though he should not be on duty.

"Elias!" the prince calls, making the man chatting with someone, turn and straighten at the sight of him walking over.

"My prince," Elias nods in regard, lowering the cup he hand in hand slightly.

"Where is the princess?" he quips, "why are you here when she is not?"

The princess' guard shakes his head and shrugs, "she is in your chambers. Rowan is keeping guard."

Daemon's brows tighten in annoyance, "she's not finished changing still?"

The guard tilts his head, "my prince, she will not be in attendance of the banquet this eve."

"What?"

"Did she not tell you?" he mutters, "she said that she felt faint and did not want to go."

Daemon's face hardens.

Without another word, he storms out of the banquet hall.

I turn to the door from the page of the book my eyes were on when I hear it burst open.

Daemon is heaving when he stills just outside the door.

"Has something happened?" I ask, with no real interest.

The prince marches over to me. I watch him up until he sits by my side and places a hand on my forehead, "are you ill?"

I push his hand away, "no."

"Are you with child?"

I roll my eyes, closing the book in my hand, "wouldn't you like that."

"Then why are you not at the banquet, by my side?"

"Hmp," I shift, turning my body to him, "I did not know you were expecting me."

"You are my wife," Daemon grabs my hand, "everyone is expecting you to be at my side."

I hum, puling my hand away. I inch past him to place my book on the bedside table, "and tell me, husband, where you waiting in earnest or with some woman by your side?"

He does not speak a word.

I scoff at him, shaking my head as I pull back and scooch down under the covers, "that is what I thought."

I snap at him when gets to his feet and rips my blanket off me.

"I've had enough of your games," he points at me, "you have been maddening as of late."

His words make me chuckle dryly. I knit my brows. "Is it I that has been playing games, Daemon?!" I quip, sitting back up, "you have been doing nothing but egg me on ever since your damned tourney and I've about had enough of you!"

I pull the blankets back up, only to have him pull it back down again.

"You know I only do this to get your attention," he says, kicking his shoes off.

I growl, swatting at him as I move to grab the blanket, "you are truly inept if you believe throwing yourself at another woman's feet will merit my attention or good graces."

He grabs the blanket from me and pulls at it, "I only meant to recreate the moment we had after the recent tourney, my love."

I practically steam in anger, releasing the blanket, making him topple back.

"If you are so desperate to recreate it that you resort to speaking with other women, then I do not want you anywhere near me!"

Daemon sighs as he crawls towards me on the bed.

I kick him off, "begone, cretin!"

Daemon, much like him, begins to find excitement in this, and even allows a smirk to play on his lips, "I love it when you call me names."

He manages to grab my leg. When he does so, he pulls me close and pins me down underneath him with his bodyweight.

"Get off!" I shove him off.

"My love," he sighs, grabbing my wrists, pressing them down beside my head, "quit the act-"

"Daemon, I swear to you, if you do not get off me this instant, I will not speak to you for an entire moon cycle."

He stills, looking down at me as he measures my words.

I raise my brows at him in challenge, "do you think I could not do it?"

It take a moments before he releases me. I could not help but gasp when he crumbles above me, sequentially nuzzling his head beside mine.

I clench my jaw at his unwanted affections, repeating more sternly, "get. off."

"You can't make me," he snips like a spiteful child.

I begin to struggle underneath him.

He whines out a desperate, "no!" He pushes down on me, nuzzling further into my shoulder. His breath is hot on my skin when he mutters something in High Valyrian that I do not understand.

I snip, "what was that?"

"I said I did not mean to actually upset you," he quickly admits.

I snort, "didn't you?"

"..."

I relax beneath him.

"... not like this."

"Then I demand an apology with tears."

"..."

"Daemon."

"Enough, I'm going to sleep."

"You are not sleeping in that," I push him off, catching him off guard. He begrudgingly rolls on his back and releases a dramatic sigh. I look at him and raise a brow, "get up right now, or I will make you get up."

He does not listen to a word I say.

The next moment, I have him off the bed. He falls with a yelp and a thud after I kick him.

Daemon rises on his knees eyeing me darkly as I pull the blankets over my me once more, "I told you so."

[suffersinfandom]

I feel for the Izzy fans, I really do. It sucks to have your favorite character killed off, especially when you feel like their death serves no narrative purpose. It genuinely hurts to lose a character that you identify closely with, and it's okay to be sad and grieve. The character might not be real, but the grief is. Let people mourn. Don't be rude to the ones who are just being sad in their little corners of the internet, yeah?

That said.

Some of the stuff I've seen in the OFMD fandom today? Worst shit I've seen in a fandom that I love and care about, and grief is no excuse. I know I'm a no one in this fandom and I'm mostly typing into a void, but I've got to get some things out:

The show doesn't deserve to be canceled. None of the creators, producers, or writers deserve to be canceled. Nothing queerphobic, homophobic, or ableist happened.

Izzy's death was not an insult or a cruelty or a targeted attack.

David Jenkins and the rest of the writers did not gaslight and abuse anyone (yeah, those are take I've seen).

It wasn't "objectively" a cheap or meaningless or badly-written death. You can hate it and that's okay, but that's still subjective!

Izzy was not the main character or the "heart" of the show. The heart of the show -- the show itself -- is Ed and Stede's relationship. We have been told as much.

"Ed hasn't faced any consequences for his actions." He has though? He didn't gaslight girlboss his way back into everyone's hearts. Izzy is not Ed's hapless and helpless victim. He was almost beaten to death and ran around in a penitence onesie with a catbell on; I think those were consequences.

"How do you feel when gay characters are randomly killed off to help a straight couple progress their narrative? Not good, huh? That's how disabled fans feel." It's okay to feel that way, but don't make any sweeping assumptions about disabled fans. I'm disabled and I'm gonna say that's not what happened here.

"How dare you kill off this character who's abused, flawed, suicidal, disabled, and queer!" Ed is still right over there, yeah? Check, check, check, check, and check. (Little note: I've seen a lot of "he's not disabled!" Even if you don't buy the kneebrace ((Ed Teach with bad joints is so important to me, shhh)), what about invisible disabilities? What about mental health issues? I'm not here to diagnose a fictional character, but it's clear to me that Ed has mental health problems that dramatically impact his life.)

"It's sick that Izzy died in the arms of his abuser apologizing to him." I don't even know where to start with this one, but I get the feeling that some parts of the fandom only consider physical abuse valid. Mental, verbal, and emotional abuse are pretty fucking damaging and I think it's sick that some folks think they aren't actually abuse.

People who enjoyed the last episode of season two aren't media illiterate. People who love Gentlebeard aren't abusive narcissists.

I just.

I really, truly feel for Izzy fans for I too have lost a blorbo. I'm giving a huge hug to the Izzy enjoyers who aren't out there making threats and calling everyone abusers and being outright hostile to anyone who had the nerve to enjoy this season. Like, I genuinely hope you guys are doing okay, and if you need an ear, I'm game.

[dukecollinsbf]

more darlin hcs..... evil laugh

tw for mention of death and drugs

im gonna give u guys the family names cus itll get confusing w the siblings i think.

their oldest brother is called lucien, then its their sister camilla, then julius (darlin) then their little brother kenji (kenny) and then the youngest, aisha.

IM SORRY IF ITS CONFUSING!!!!

their dad is called ronan and their mom is called kalliyan

ronan was a vet! he lost his leg in an explosion and wears a prosthetic which julius helped him take off and put it on. he also would take his dad to the store in his wheelchair and stuff

julius used to also get into arguments w racist strangers who would insult his parents when they didn't even know enough english to understand what was going on.

despite his parents' abuse and neglect, julius loved them he saught out their approval a lot. he wanted to make them proud and happy even if it seemed impossible. he hated himself for it and tried to stop, but he always felt ashamed and guilty when his parents would be disappointed in him. he wished he didn't care like lucien and camilla.

he used to have a little brother who was aisha's twin, but he passed away from cancer when he and aisha were very young, around 4 years old. julius was 14 and he didn't get a chance to properly until he was nearing his adult years because of how much responsibilities he had

he blamed himself for a long time. he did everything he could to give his younger siblings a good life despite their parents and he felt very useless, like he should have been able to stop it even though he was literally unable to. he cried for hours when the family dog accidentally ruined one of his little brother's stuffed animals

one of his first tattoos was one for his little brother

julius was sent to an empowered tti (troubled teen industry)

he tries to come off as very cold and aloof, but he feels things deep

his dad pushed toxic masculinity onto him and his brothers, so he was convinced he was unable to cry until being with sam

rather than letting himself feel sadness, he often let it turn into anger. it was something he was more familiar with, something that felt more manly, which is why he was so reckless

he also threw himself into dangerous situations because he cared very little for himself. he felt like he deserved the consequences because he hurts people with his anger. it was like revenge to himself for hurting people he cares about

he had unhealthy coping mechanisms, often turning to drugs whenever things became too much. he used drugs more while dating quinn. (he went to rehab in washington)

julius never really got much sleep. as a teenager, he'd either be dealing with his parents during the night or working night shifts. when it'd be neither, he'd be woken by kenji because he often got night terrors. after breaking up with quinn, he slept even less. he felt extremely guilty for his unempowered friend, trevor, being attacked by quinn. he'd have nightmares and sleepless nights filled with guilt and regret. the first time he slept a full proper night was in the cuddles and confessions audio with sam.

the first time he was healed by marie, she was so gentle and talked to him softly, like a mother should, and it was something he had been longing for from his mother for so long that he cried when he got home

ON A MORE LIGHTER NOTE...

julius used to have a crush on milo. they like pretty boys with accents, its a given

julius had more muscle than quinn. quinn was just a vampire, so he was stronger

idk if this belongs in the angst section but he used to wear one of his dad's vet hats a lot. it's still in his closet somewhere

he and his siblings would have arguments over stupid shit then forgive each other in 5 seconds. like yelling at each other than a minute later julius is like hey do you wanna go to this restaurant with me lol...

when sam zipped away from him in their very first audio, julius was sooo giddy cus he loved sam's accent

HE LOVES LIZARDS!!!! he used to go around and look for them. one of his first times at david's house as a teen there was a tiny lizard on the wall nd he just picked it up and was just like "...lizard."

hes just an awkward little loser i lvoe him.

FNAF PHASE! CREEPYPASTA PHASE! NIGHTCORE PHASE!

he has a shirt that says "blowjobs are real jobs" and he wears it unironically

one of his first roommates ever had a whole room for her big ass iguana. to this day, julius is bitter that he never got to pet it

he need glasses but he never wears them outside. he's walked past the pack and the mates multiple times without even knowing, especially cause he goes into his own little world when he walks

one time he walked past lovely with his headphones on and he couldn't tell it was them. all he thought was "dude why is this stranger staring me down??"

he calls sam his bitch sometimes cause he thinks its so funny. sam stares at him with a deadpan expression

he has a metal plate in his eye socket that he needed to get when he was a baby. he sticks magnets to his face when he's bored but it gives him really bad headaches in the cold

loves side-eyeing

will talk about his trauma casually.

"that actually reminds me of the time my mom tried to shoot my dad! haha, oh that was so crazy. the cops came. :)"

also, leather jacket luvr

he has a motorcycle

tongue piercing (sam loves it)

[electricbathsalt]

I think part of the reason why Overhaul is hated more and seems less deserving of “redemption” (atonement, whatever) than the league of villains is, besides the more fleshed out backstories of the latter, the observer effect so to speak. The civilians killed by league? We don’t know them. We can headcanon that they all were bastards and nobody would care. But Eri? We know Eri. She is also a child, which gives Chisaki extra points on “awfulness”. Personally, I think they both did terrible shit, but “death of one is a tragedy, death of millions (in not saying Shiggy outright killed millions) is a statistic”

Hi, I’m sorry it took me so ridiculously long to get back to you, but I promise it was because I was turning this that way and this way over and over again in my head. I feel you are right.

Chisaki primarily hurt characters who we actually get to know (Eri, Magne, Compress, Mirio, Nighteye) and more than that, he hurt them in permanent ways, entirely onscreen, something that was previously untouched in MHA. The LOV’s victims are rarely even shown, especially outside of the two-second scene where they get killed.

Something I rarely ever see people mention is how the LOV’s original plan was to kidnap Eri. You can say that maybe they were just going to keep her in the background while they did whatever/taken care of her. You could also say that they were planning to hand her over to Garaki so they could try to make the quirk-destroying bullets themselves. We have no idea what the rest of that plan was.

You see, Chisaki and the LOV are opposites in how they’re presented to the audience. The LOV’s “villainous acts” are typically vague and impermanent, whereas the reasoning behind why they’re a villain and why they do these things is detailed and patiently shown. Chisaki’s “villainous acts” are all onscreen and their consequences/pain happen to people we actually know, pain that we get to see. What actually happened to him in his youth and seeded these issues in him? We don’t get anything outside of strictly-plot-relevant details. With this, you have the perfect formula to have people believe that “this group” is better than “that group”.

It’s pretty clear Chisaki’s character is not meant to be understood in the same way the LOV are, because he is not like the LOV. He was abandoned, but he was also taken in, so he’s fine. His father-figure didn’t seem to outright abuse him, so his childhood was good. He was experimented on, but was he? And not anymore and we don’t get to see how he was before he was experimented on, so he’s fine and was always this way. He technically had everything the LOV members didn’t, so he never had anything significantly negative happen to him and he’s a jackass simply because he wants to be one.

Chisaki’s traumatic experiences were never explicitly shown, so they never happened. LOV’s bad actions were never explicitly shown (without a thorough explanation as to why they did them), so they weren’t that bad. Easy as that.

I have a lot of feelings towards the people who will scream at the top of their lungs endlessly about how the LOV members should all get perfectly happy endings, and then turn around and tear Chisaki to absolute shreds. I understand to an extent, but it is slightly ironic…

They’re all horrible people. Maybe they could’ve turned out better had their circumstances been different. That applies to all of them, the LOV and the Shie Hassaikai.

[igotanidea]

Specter: Jason Todd x ghost!reader (pt 1)

Warnings: death of reader (duh!), death and resurrection of the other main character, angst

***

She was his best friend.

His only friend.

More than his friend.

Knowing each other since they were kids running loose on the streets of Gotham forced to tend to themselves.

He chuckled at the memory of their first meeting.

Fighting over few apples and a half loaf of bread she managed to rim from some man while batting her elalashes and making innocent face of a street-starving girl.

Well, she was a street starving girl, but as far away from innocent as they come, of which fact Jason was almost brutally made aware upon trying to steal some of it from her. Gaining a bruised eye and a scratch that left a tiny scar on his arm instead.

A well-deserved scar, cause even after all those years he was mentally cringing at the memory he was actually trying to rob a girl his age of food. Terrible thought. In his defence, he was starving himself.

Fortunately, they somehow came to an agreement and since then, there was always someone to care for and who could take care of them by their side.

Y/N and Jason.

Together even when not.

Inseparable even after that batmobil-tires accident, cause there was no way in hell Jason would start living with the Bruce Wayne and left his best only friend behind.

Nah.

So would anyone be surprised that after a while they actually started falling in love? Or maybe they were in love from the beggining since the apples but never noticed?

The point however stood, obvious to everyone but those two donkey level stubborn young adults.

So apart from a few stolen kisses, helluva blushing, talking through the nights, secret awkward hugs and one attempt at intimacy, nothing—

Ok, you know what scratch that last sentence. A LOT has happened in the span of a few weeks. And it brought them significantly closer. Hoping for more and actually trying to work towards more.

So when Jason, at the mature age of 16 went for another Batman-related mission, he pecked her lips and promised to have the real talk about their future when he gets back.

Spoiler alert: He never did.

And when Batman walked to the Batcave with no Robin to follow him and broke the news it was like Y/N’s heart was gone with Jason’s life.

Torn from her chest since at that moment it stopped beating and everything lost its meaning.

She refused to eat, drink, talk and get up in the morning. Spending her days in isolation or sitting by his symbolical grave since the body was never found.

Withering her young life away at the graveyard.

No one ever told her the truth.

***

Miraculously Jason came back five years later. Completely different than a scrawny kid everyone used to know him. Raging terror upon Gotham for a while before actualy forming some kind of allegiance with the Bats. And at some point, the question had to be asked. And the hard truth had to be revealed.

„Where is Y/N?” he whispered, getting shy, gulit, regret and remorse filling him to the brim as he was searching through the entire manor in search for her.

A few saddened looks were exchanged between his siblings as those words rung in the air.

Oh, no.

„Where the hell is she?!” Jason yelled, ready to punch a wall, hit Dick in the face and beat the shit out of Bruce for keeping something from him.

„Jaybrird—„

„Do not fucking call me that Grayson! Where is my Y/N?!”

„No one told you—„

„She;s dead.” Damian muttered, unaware of the consequences of dropping such a bomb on his brother. „We burried her a year—„

Jason roared like a wounded animal, nearly making the glass in the window shutter.

„DEAD?!!”

„Jason—„

„STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

„I think you should-„

„YOU DON’T GET TO TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING DICKHEAD!”

The rage creeping inside Jason’s head and heart was suffocating. Beating the post-Pit madness multiple times and seeming neverending. He panted and wailed, wanting to destroy something. Kill someone. Anyone, but preferably the one responsible for Y/N;s premature departure from the world. Set a fire to the manor. Break into the League of Assasin’s headquarters and let them kill him. For good this time. Crawl into the deepest darkest pit and die.

„Jason—„

„WHO DID THIS?!”

„It was—„

„I WANT A NAME!”

„We don’t-„

„I WANT THAT PERSON;S HEAD ON A STICK!”

No matter how hard Dick, Tim, Cass, Steph and Barbara tried to get to him (cause obviously Damian was just watching with curiosity), nothign worked.

„It was an accident.” Bruce muttered, finally joining the family allured by the screams.

„AN ACCIDENT?!”

„A car crash. She was just a pedestian, did nothing wrong. The driver was DUI.”

„SO WHAT?! YOU’RE A FUCKING BILLIONAIRE, YO COULDN’T HAVE PROVIDED HER WITH A GOOD FUCKING DOCTOR!?”

„She died instantly.”

„SHE—„ Jason’s voice broke, all the anger finally subsiding replaced by the pain. „She what- ?”

„I am sorry jason…”

„SHE WAS YOUR RESPONSIBLITY!”

„No, she was your resposibilty Jason. You were the one who befrended her, fell for her, brought her into this life. Should have known better.”

„SHUT UP!”

„She stayed here after you died instead of moving forward, unable to forget you.”

„SHUT THE FUCK UP!” it was impossible to listen to Bruce only fueling up the guilt and pain iside Jason’s heart.

„She—„

„Master Bruce.” Now Alfred came into the scene, preventing another blood bath that were bound to happen between a father and a son. ‘Perhaps we should give master Jason some space now. Miss Y/N’s death took a heavy toll on all of us, didn;t it?”

”Hm.”

„Come Jay. Upstairs.” Cass smiled at him to the best of her abilities „You need rest.”

Hazily he took a few steps forward but didn;t miss Bruce’s pained whisper and haunted expression.

„You’re not the only one who lost her…”

***

It’s been five years since then.

But now, as Jason was standing by her grave it all felt surreal.

Y/N Y/L/N, daughter, friend, prankster.

That last word was something she would laugh at.

But he was not.

Five years. The same amount he was gone, same amount for which she believed him to be dead, visiting his grave.

Did she feel all those feels he was dealing with right now?

Emptiness.

Numbness.

Anger.

And that pressuring what if-.

They could have been happy together. Working though their difficulties and becoming real. Maybe starting a family. Escaping all this shitty vigilantism life pushed them both into.

Destroying both of their lifes.

One cold six feet under, the other cold six feet inside.

„I miss you.” He whispered in the space, putting a buquet of flowers on the ground next to the ledger „You will forever be the one to haunt me.”

With that he turned around, walking away with head hung low and hands in the pockets of his jacket.

Getting back to his apartment.

In which she could have been with him if things were to work out differently.

part 2 : phantom

[fawnsflowerbed]

could i request for a one-shot with post-RE6/vendetta leon falling in love with his next-door neighbor, the reader? as much as i love young RE2 and RE4 leon, there’s something about him all grown up in the later installments that’s so 🫣

let’s face it, he’s been through a LOT. leon probably isn’t sure if his life has stayed the same (fighting bioterrorism day in and day out, his situationship with ada never becoming anything substantial even after so many years), or if it keeps changing too quickly and rapidly for him to handle (the enemies he deals with getting more and more formidable, and maybe the abrupt end of his situationship 💔). so when the reader comes into his life when they move in next door, they’re like a breath of fresh air to him.

they bake him cookies, don’t treat him any differently when they find out who he is and what he does for a living, and everything else they do just… makes him feel normal. he’s scared to admit his feelings (because he’s an emotionally constipated old fart boo 👎 /J), but when he and the reader start dating, for the first time, he feels like he has a home. it’s not his or the reader’s actual adjacent residences, but it’s the reader. they’re his home.

I adored this req so much I just HAD to make it a series!!

Series Masterlist here!!

Home is More Than Four Walls

Leon's life has been nothing short of hell. He thought he deserved nothing more than that after every mistake he'd made. Until someone new moved in.

Warnings/content: Fem reader, 2nd person (you/yours), Vendetta Leon, references to alcoholism, depression, addiction, and potential suicidal undertones so please read with care.

Word count: 2,225

════════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ════════

════════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ════════

Leon had gotten far too comfortable with change.

He’d found a melancholy bliss that left him always prepared for shit to go wrong. He’d been stuck like that ever since Tatchi, ever since he felt the immense weight of his actions and their consequences. The weight of a thousand lives lost thanks to his negligence. And it only worsened after he lost his unit a year ago, only to then kill them off once they turned. People he’d bonded with that he then had to murder. He could still feel the blood on his hands no matter how hard he scrubbed. There was a reason Chris had originally found him drinking himself to death. Then there was New York, the whole ordeal having him wonder one thing.

When would this end? It had gotten to the point where it was bordering on insanity. If he kept going like this he’d likely end up getting shipped off to rehab. Sleepless nights filled with lifeless eyes staring dead into him, moments of quiet solemness as he mourned lives and relationships lost. Mourned his younger self, the rookie with no clue of what awaited him in Raccoon City. But not in a respectful way with a mental funeral, laying the young man down in a cleaned coffin and lowering him into a bed of lillies. It was more like tossing a corpse to the side and moving on. The years of constant fighting only for nothing to change had turned him cold. That boy with a sense of hope and pride, that boy who became a police officer to repay the service that had saved him when he was a child - that boy was gone. It had been replaced by the shell of a man with a gun forced into his hand. Before he’d even known it he was born and bred to be the DSO’s soulless weapon. Like a brainless zombie, they lined his gun up with the target and yelled at him to shoot.

So he did. Time after time. Year after year. No time for personal affairs, no time for hobbies or outside activities. No time for what made him human. 

Maybe that was why Ada had left him.

Ada, the woman on the run who’d appeared out of nowhere only to disappear once more. The one he’d been chasing after for too many years to count, who he defended during Tall Oaks and risked his life for. The one who was no longer keeping score on how many times they’d saved each other.

 The one who’d called it quits on him.

He remembered it so clearly. That miniscule glint of pain behind her professional gaze like a spinel hidden among the rocks, that of a mercenary staring down the sight of a crossbow with perfect aim. The way she stuck out her hand to shake as if it had all been some type of business partnership. Nothing more than looking out for someone to gain something. A lead, a life saved, a death quickened. It was all a ploy to her.

Leon wasn’t one to beg, he hadn’t been for quite some time. He was persistent, sure, but not to the point where he felt like he was grovelling.

He was ready to drop to his knees when Ada told him they couldn’t keep going the way they were. That they were only putting each other in danger. After a constant sprint towards her, it all came to a harsh halt. It was like his heart had been stomped on repeatedly, a sharp high heel straight through his ribcage. He would’ve rather she’d shot him. It would’ve hurt less.

But luckily he was good at masking it. So when she broke the news to him, he just gave her a stiff nod and shook her hand. As she made her exit, he had to hold back everything telling him to bolt into the nearest building to sob to himself for the first time in years. To blame himself for the fourth time that day. He wasn’t usually an emotional person, not when it came to crying. Leon Kennedy never cried, and he prided himself on that. But Ada brought out the worst in him. The worst and the best.

The months blended together after that moment. A bland concoction of aimless meetings chased down with long droning lectures on his behaviour. He was erratic, he was impulsive and most importantly he was too distracted to focus on anything other than that grey spot seeped into his brain. No one could blame him though, those who’d heard of their situationship ending seemed to pity him. He didn’t want their pity. Not for that or for his countless failures. 

Routine health check results had forced him to move away from his work at the DSO for a few months. His heartbeat was too quick, his stress levels unhealthy and his jumpy reactions to so much as thunder had him listed as a person of concern. A person who had to be forced to take a break, to leave and get out of town.

So that’s exactly what he did.

But Leon knew nothing of his life without some sort of mission, some kind of drive for a success or cure for some terrorising sickness that plagued his conscience the same way it did the human body. He was built on trauma, on the need to do something with his life for the greater good. But all of that had been stripped away from him, leaving behind a scared 20 year old stuck in a grizzled, battered body.

He’d packed up his stuff and moved out of town to a small area just outside of the city, where no one asked questions and rarely even spoke to one another. He was away from it all, yet still felt so close. He was incredibly on edge as if at any time the bored looking man across the street by the name of Mr. Danvers would burst into a pale skinned, veiny creature that he’d have to kill off. Or maybe Miss Lampkin had secretly followed him from the DSO to assassinate him, forcing him to eliminate her in self defence. Another person shipped off in a body bag courtesy of Leon Scott Kennedy.

But the question still stood clear as day in his mind amongst the hustle and bustle of dread. Was he willing to fight it back anymore?

He didn’t feel good about himself if it weren’t all that obvious. If he wasn’t drowning every issue in a bottle of bourbon, he was sinking into his own self loathing. Avoiding any issue he could, dodging any problem that couldn’t be easily solved. He closed his heart off with walls stacked tall made from reinforced steel. 

That’s why he fit in so perfectly where he was. Another husk in a greyed community, just like everyone else.

Until you came along.

“Thanks guys!”

The sound of someone so cheerful, so welcoming in his community drenched in monotone shades that it genuinely stunned him. It stopped him in his tracks on his way to the front door, just as he went to check the mail. Leon cursed his own curiosity as he felt his eyes drifting instinctively to the window facing the commotion. The outcome of this was completely unknown, for all he knew he was about to face just another grump masking their snarl with a soft smile. A form of customer service, if anything. Scolding his timing, he knew he’d otherwise forget to collect his mail for the next few days in case another blur hit him. So he slipped on a pair of older shoes, buried his pride for looking like an absolute mess and made his way out into the sun.

As soon as the chirpy voice broke through the silence of the street, Leon was turning to see where it came from. It seemed impossible for someone so cheerful to live in such close proximity.

“Oh let me help you with that. I’ll take it.”

Surely it was his imagination. He must have been slipping into some type of manic state of auditory hallucinations, because no one had ever sounded that happy to be there.

Yet there you stood, a bright welcoming smile that put the sun to shame as you helped the movers bring your stuff into the house with a grateful nod. With softened eyes and a sparkling personality he could see from a mile away. Freshly cleaned sneakers - as if trying to make a good impression with your new neighbours -sensible yet comfortable jeans, a shirt a size too big for you as you took whatever you could to try and make their lives easier despite that being their job.

Leon let out a quick exhale of amusement, closing up his mailbox to walk back down the cement of his walkway. He genuinely found it funny for someone like you to move in.

You were a drastic difference to the rest of the neighbourhood, most of which were grumps or quiet assholes who refused to interact within the community. Those who chose to drink with themselves as comfort in complete silence. Which would explain why Leon was there after everything he’d been through.

You were far too bright to be in a place like this. A yellow daisy growing through a crack in the concrete.

He was just waiting for the reality of the situation to settle into you. For you to realise you’d just signed your life away for a world of misery. Unfortunately he knew it was likely. This part of the city was going to break your spirit at some point, he could feel it in his bones.

In some sad way he could already see that younger version of himself like you. Someone grown and watered with pride and meaning, a fate sealed for something better than a normal life. 

He was waiting for your own Raccoon City incident to happen, and he could practically feel it impending. He could already hear the thundering footsteps of a Tyrant.

But he chose not to dwell on it, instead closing the door behind him to slip his shoes off and go back to his usual routine. Check over files, throw a meal into the microwave, send through overdue reports, and try to avoid the calls he could hear coming from that specific part of his fridge. Calls from chilled alcohol. Calls from the crate he had sitting at the bottom of the pantry.

Leon had been trying his best to kick the harmful habit of drinking whenever things got too tough to handle. When the buzzing in his head grew to an excruciating screech. When he could hear the echoing cries of the people he left behind. Heard the crack of bones under his hands. He wasn’t a good person, some miniscule part of him knew that, and one day he’d have to wake up and realise that voice is right. 

Or at least that’s what he thought. 

Before he knew it, it was nighttime. Deep into nighttime, to the point where he should’ve had dinner hours ago but still had yet to touch the microwaved lunch he’d tossed in. Despite his wealth, Leon found it humbling to live in a small suburbia like this one, it kept him sane. No long empty hallways. No ghosts sitting in the dining room. 

He never wanted to flaunt that part of his life, there was no need to. It would only earn him unwanted attention and that was the last thing he needed at a time like this one. He was already sabotaging himself, he didn’t need to drag others down with him as well.

That blur was hitting him again, and no amount of garbage bags and boxes being moved out onto the curb could snap him out of it. Shit, how did he end up out here? Sky full of faded stars, light from the old streetlamp’s light casting the street in a softened orange tone. How long had he been on autopilot, a walking corpse of programmed answers and tasks? Was he nothing more than a machine?

Was this what his life was destined to be? Pacing back and forth across his overgrown front lawn and the deck he hadn’t bothered to varnish until he was accepted back into the DSO, the place that helped to rob him of a regular adulthood? What if they didn’t take him back? What if he was here forever, trapped in a suburban purgatory?

He needed to come back, to take control of his feet with each pad across the walkway back to his house as if he were taking control of his life once more. He couldn’t feel his fingers despite moving them. Everything seemed fuzzy. It was like he was stuck in a state of paralysis, all of his nerves firing off as if he’d been scorched with hot coals every time a muscle moved. He became far too aware of his breathing, every hoarse huff from months of ashed abuse with a heart pumping far too loud. He could hear it beating through his ears, feel it in the back of his eyes. He was drowning.

Until he heard a frustrated huff followed by something hitting the ground.