#kill the universe cop in your brain

[evilkitten3]

maybe it's bc i'm aro but i fundamentally Do Not vibe with any kind of "soulmates" fic stuff. like if the universe picked out a Person for me i would categorically refuse to even be their friend. don't care how compatible we are or what my opinion of them as an individual ends up being. it's the principle of the thing

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello! Someone genuinely trying to understand and perhaps unlearn some reactionary tendencies. With the response to that anon about "not asking if you're a pro or anti", the response about "imagine if they put this much effort into protecting real kids" definitely got me thinking. So... Is an adult shipping children and finding that hot NEVER a red flag? Or is it case by case on seeing how that person handles the distinction between fiction and reality in other things? And bringing the issue of real kids into it, if a real kid who has been abused sees someone shipping kids and finds that a red flag in that person, that... No, no I juicy answered my own question on that one. Block them and cultivate your own experience.

hi there anon, and congrats on trying to unlearn some things! and great job catching yourself at the end there, that's exactly correct.

I will start by saying this right out of the gate: fundamentally, I do not really give a shit about what made up scenarios about fictional characters people are jorking it to in private. I am, first and foremost, interested in how they are interacting with actual, real people.

"but Makenzie are you saying people who look at sexually explicit images of real human kids should be allowed near children?" no I'm not. please note that I was specifically talking about people engaging with fictional characters who are, you know, not real and do not have feelings and therefore cannot actually be hurt, traumatized, abused, etc, in any way that actually matters. I want to be so clear about this: you can genuinely think whatever vile things you want about fictional characters. you can enjoy any problematic shit you want with little guys who don't actually exist.

like, here's an example I use a lot: I'm kind of a huge Batman fan. don't know if you could tell that or not, I'm pretty subtle about it. if you spend any time in the Batman mythos, you know that this is a story where you just kind of have to take for granted that our hero is a billionaire using his vast wealth to dispatch vigilante justice with military grade weaponry and a small army of child soldiers and cop friends to help him put people in prison. these are moral quandaries that are discussed and acknowledged within the story, but fundamentally the universe is always going to involve billionaire vigilantism and child soldiers and the so-called carceral justice system. that's just the price of admission if you're gonna read Batman.

and like. I spend a lot of time in that world. I love Batman, I love his child soldiers. he's my little blorbo or whatever. but like, at no point have I said "yeah, fuck it, preteens should be learning martial arts to fight domestic terrorists, actually. I think Elon Musk SHOULD be allowed to put on a fursuit and beat up criminals. cops need more funding." no amount of Batman comics can make me believe or act on any of those things because, you know, I'm a person with a brain and I know the difference between "thing that makes a good story" and "thing that should actually happen for real."

and the thing is that genuinely, honestly, if someone thought that it was a red flag that I like Batman, and that enjoying Batman comics was somehow a red flag indicating that I'm fine with violence being done against real, actual children? I would think that person was a nut, if I can be super real. like, I'm thinking about somebody trying to make the case that I shouldn't be allowed to hang out with my nephew because I enjoy the fictional character of Robin so clearly I'm going to kill my nephew's parents in front of him to try to get him into vigilante justice. or if someone attempted to bar me from teaching my 4th-6th grade sex ed classes on the grounds that I was obviously going to teach them to do karate to clowns instead of how their reproductive systems worked.

(although, lets be real, there are a lot of politicians who would MUCH rather let little kids cage fight each other than learn anything about safer sex.)

this doesn't just apply to morally bad things, either, btw. I also read a lot of romance novels, especially hetero romances. and the thing is, not one of those books has made me want to fall in love with a ruggedly handsome but condescending straight man. hell, none of them have made me want to fall in love with anybody, period. that's not really something I'm interested in for myself, it's just a fun and frequently funny dynamic to explore. I'm hardly the first queer person to point out that the allegations that queer media "turns kids gay/trans" is obviously bullshit since the vertible mountain of cishet media evidently failed to turn any of us straight/cis, you know?

my point being: no, I genuinely don't think it's often, if ever, reasonable to judge someone's actual, real life morals by how they interact with fiction.

I'm going to say something so vulnerable right now, because we're in a safe space here: since you asked me this very reasonable question, you evidently value my judgment and perspective at least a little bit. and I once read and thoroughly enjoyed a fic in which Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, gets fucked by a sapient evil horse. and I don't think that makes me a morally reprehensible person, or a person who advocates for real human beings having real sex with real horses. I think it just makes me kind of a weirdo with a bullshit tolerance.

if you want to hear a MUCH more thorough take on this, complete with addressing the issue of shipping fictional children, I cannot recommend Princess Weekes' video essay enough:

[abyssruler]

plausible deniability

scaramouche x gn!reader

your boyfriend is nice, your boyfriend is sweet, but your boyfriend is also a serial killer. “relax, it’s just a dead body,” he tells you like he hadn’t just hit a man on the head with a brick hard enough to crack his skull. well, at least he did it to defend you? or — scaramouche kills people and you have the world’s biggest ‘i can fix him’ complex. (modern au)

crack, comedy, a few people die but who cares, scara is soft for one person and one person only and that’s you, “i would kill for you, in fact, i have killed for you.” “honey, did you take your meds today?” - scara and reader

You were never a fan of true crime documentaries, or horror movies, or gory shows, or anything that involved excessive blood spraying and lightless eyes staring into the camera.

So, it would stand to reason that at the first sign of your boyfriend being more than into those kinds of things, you would’ve turned tail and ran as far away as you can, right?

Unfortunately, you’ve always been blind to the color red.

…Figurative red, that is, because the red seeping through your couch and the ones coated on your boyfriend’s hands are definitely visible to you, bright and dripping and most definitely staining your pristine white rugs that you just bought last week. Ah, how are you going to explain that to the laundry lady?

“Scara, honey, what did I say about killing other people?” you ask, voice visibly strained.

He sneers at the face of the dead guy sitting haphazardly on your couch. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

You sigh.

✧

It wasn’t always like this, with the whole blood viscera happy-murder thing.

Your boyfriend, Scaramouche, had this odd habit of being so immersed in the news, a little smile lighting up his face (which you’d thought was cute at the time and, well, you still do) whenever the reporter gets to the local murders that used to have you shaking in fear on your bed.

He was charming though. A little possessive, but that was a trait you also thought was quite endearing—and, if you’re being honest, you still do. Scaramouche had a vast collection of sharp knives, some small and practically harmless (or as harmless as a knife can be) and others… not so harmless. You didn’t question it because he often cooked for you, your brain chalking it up to him using those knives for it.

It wasn’t until you were walking home alone from university that you discovered his little hobby of, well, killing people who inconvenienced you and him. Mostly people who inconvenienced you though, which was disturbing but also flattering in a crazy sort of way.

“Relax, it’s just a dead body,” he told you like he hadn’t just hit a man on the head with a brick hard enough to crack his skull.

You were cowering on the alley’s wall, eyes wide and knees shaking as you watched your supposedly nice and caring boyfriend wipe away the blood on his hand like it’s a normal occurrence. And when he grinned down at the body, something almost satisfied in his eyes, you realized that he was the cause for all the recent murders popping up in the city.

Now, the thing about this is that you should have run away screaming bloody murder, maybe call the cops or even do the sensible thing like break up with your boyfriend who’s apparently a psycho.

And you would have done it, if he just hadn’t been so… so…

He turned to you with concern shining in his eyes, stepping over the corpse of the man who’d pointed a pocket knife at you and tried to rob you. With hands still slicked with blood, he cradled your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “It’s a good thing you weren’t hurt.”

…sweet.

And as he pulled you away from the crime scene, dragging you home and running a hot bath for you both, asking you what you wanted for dinner like he hadn’t just murdered someone in front of you, you finally calmed down and saw the truth of the matter.

Yes, your boyfriend is quite possibly a serial killer, yes, you might just be making the worst decision of your life, and yes, you’re well aware this is because of all the wattpad bad boy stories you consumed when you were young, but you’ll be damned if you let Scaramouche go. He was kind (at least, to you he is), he was charming (when he wanted to be), he was a great cook, he was good with kids and the elderly, he was smart, and finally, he would never cheat on you.

So, while there might be the unfortunate addition of him being a little too happy with the idea of killing someone (have, in fact, killed someone, multiple someones at that), he was also the perfect boyfriend you could ask for. He just needs a little guidance, is all.

The next day, he proudly showed you the severed hand of a man who once made you cry because he groped you.

…Okay, a lot of guidance, but you can manage, you’ve read tons of bad boy turns good after falling in love type of stories. How difficult can it be to have your murderous boyfriend change his ways?

✧

Quite difficult, as it turns out.

A quick google on why people become murderers brought up a lot of questions and concerns for you, and while you’re well aware that google isn’t exactly the most reliable place when it comes to looking for advice, it’s also the only place you can go to without getting arrested for assisted murder—even though you’ve never actually helped Scaramouche when he goes all ham crazy on the general populace.

You sit him down on your couch, which was now free of blood thanks to google’s advice and good ol’ handy-dandy hydrogen peroxide.

Like this, facing each other and holding his hands, it almost seems like an actual, legitimate therapy session, minus the whole licensed psychiatrist thing. But hey, you’ve read tons of articles on the internet, so while you may be lacking in some aspects (namely, the fact that you don’t have any idea what you’re doing and aren’t qualified at all to be your crazy boyfriend’s therapist), you’re confident you can just wing it.

“Baby,” you start. Calling him endearments was an advice you picked up from reddit. A kind user named ballz3000 said that referring to them sweetly using innocent pet names can make them softer and calm their homicidal tendencies. “You know I don’t like it when you bring home dead bodies.”

According to another user named yn-yournuts, being open and communicating your feelings is the first step to establishing a healthy relationship and, consequently, a better mental state.

“It would’ve been difficult hiding the body at daytime,” he grouches, but he still keeps a gentle hold on your hands, which is a good thing. Baby steps, you tell yourself, baby steps—even though those baby steps might as well be called snail steps, wait, snail slithers.

“Then you should’ve waited until it was dark or midnight to kill him,” comes your immediate response—wait, damn it! You’re supposed to encourage him to steer away from murder, not give him advice on how to do it better. Smiling, you attempt to salvage the situation, “But, of course, it would be better to not kill anyone at all.”

It’s too late. He’s already donning a contemplative look on his face that soon turns into a grin, leaning in and briefly slotting his lips against yours.

“Thanks for the suggestion. I’ll be more careful next time, love,” is all he says before getting up and abruptly ending your impromptu therapy session.

And admittedly, there must be something wrong with you too, because instead of being horrified at his words, you giggle to yourself.

This is the first time he called you love!

✧

Alright, so operation therapy failed, it’s now time to charge in like a boar. Straightforwardness is always good according to that one article you found in google made by Hugh G. Bawles.

The two of you were in bed, the lights already turned off, when you took a deep breath and began preparing what you were going to say to him to prevent any more innocent people being killed.

Scara, I don’t like it when you kill people.

Baby, don’t show me anymore dead body parts.

Why did you become a murderer?

Sometimes, I feel like we’re a normal couple, but then you’ll suddenly go and casually bring me a bloody finger as a gift.

But instead of saying any of those, what comes out of your mouth is,

“Darling, I think you’re just confusing your constipation for homicidal urges.”

In hindsight, maybe attempting to start a heart to heart talk in the middle of the night just before a morning class was a bad idea.

You wait a few seconds, then minutes, and when he showed no signs of responding, you turn your head only to find him with his eyes closed and sound asleep.

Fine, you’ll just have to try again tomorrow.

✧

You share exactly one class with Scaramouche and it’s philosophy. Unfortunately, it’s also the class with the worst professor known to mankind.

“Ah, I got a low grade…” you mutter to yourself, looking down at your essay forlornly.

Your boyfriend takes one peak at your paper and immediately scowls. “You spent an entire night writing that.” He turns a glare to the professor currently ignorant of the murderer sitting in his class. “That asshole should’ve given you a perfect score. Maybe I should give him a little visit.”

You calmly take his hand under the table and squeeze it, all too used to him casually alluding to killing other people. “Dear, we talked about this. What do we do when we’re having homicidal thoughts?”

He looks down the table, brows furrowed in a sulking manner. “Don’t do it.”

You beam, proud at him for remembering the one thing you keep reminding him whenever he brings a dead body back to your house.

The blonde twins seated in front of you turn their head in horror after overhearing your conversation.

“What are you looking at?” Scaramouche sneers at the same time you say, “We’re roleplaying.”

“Right…” the long haired twin you distinctly remember was named Aether mumbles before he ushers his sister to ignore the two of you.

Oh well, at least you managed to stop one person from dying today. User tojiscrustysock on twitter always says you should take whatever victories you can, so you’ll consider this a resounding success.

✧

When you open the news next morning, the face of your professor is the first thing you see along with the words, found dead near his home.

You turn to your boyfriend sitting beside you, an innocent look on his face as you look at him with disappointment.

“My hand slipped,” is the flimsy excuse he settles for.

Sighing and utterly out of options, you’re forced to resort to the one thing you didn’t want to do. The worst possible option there is. If there’s going to a therapist and potentially getting arrested kind of worst, there’s this kind of worst—the absolute worst of the worst.

“Scara, I think we need to start doing yoga.”

word count: 1.8k

[novamariestark]

Can I get a Dean Winchesterx reader using prompts 9 and 10 off list one and prompt 46 off list two, please?

Summary: A quiet date night with Dean gets interrupted.

Warnings: proofread but there's always a mistake after posting 🤣

Word count: 1229

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Prompts: “LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS ILLEGAL!” “Did you just... agree with me?” “I'm actually going to kill you��

[A/N] hope you like 😁

How did we even get here? Sometimes, life takes a strange turn, almost as if the universe decides to have a little fun with you—except you’re not laughing. The night had started so differently. It was supposed to be simple—normal even. Sam had dropped the two of you off at that tiny, run-down bar a few miles outside town, giving you some space for your long-awaited “date night.” You were supposed to have a quiet evening, maybe a few drinks, some laughs. No monsters. No hunts.

But, because some idiot stumbled into the bar, raving about a “monster” they’d seen outside town that meant date night was over. You’d barely finished your drink before you were dragged out, headed straight for where the alleged sighting had taken place. The kicker? Sam had taken the Impala to pick up some supplies, promising to come back later. So here you were, stranded without Baby, crouched behind a row of garbage bins like a couple of amateurs. This is not how you imagined your alone time with Dean would go. You had hoped for something more... normal.

Dean was in front of you, so at least you had something nice to look at. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good, but seriously? This was the worst idea he’d had all week—and that was saying something. At first you thought you had heard him wrong but oh no. You had heard him right.

You glanced at him, unable to believe what was coming out of his mouth. “Are you seriously suggesting we rob a cop car?” you asked, trying to keep your voice calm, even though you were two seconds away from smacking some sense into him.

Dean turned to you with that infuriatingly casual grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Borrow,” he corrected, like that made it better. “It’s not illegal if we give it back.”

You stared at him for a moment, your brain struggling to comprehend the sheer level of Dean Winchester logic you were dealing with right now. He had to be joking. But he wasn’t. He was dead serious.

“Okay,” you shot back, your voice dripping with so much sarcasm that it could be visible, “maybe next we can walk into the nearest bank and help ourselves to the entirety of the vault. You know, for funsies.” Dean’s only response was to roll his eyes, still not seeing the problem. You took a deep breath as you waved your hands around for emphasis. “LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS ILLEGAL!”

Honestly, you weren’t sure whether to laugh or scream. You were a hunter—a damn good one. You could handle ghosts, demons, and all manner of monsters that most people couldn’t even fathom. And yet, here you were, stuck with this idiot, debating grand theft auto like it was something minute like, who’s turn it was to wash the dishes.

You gave him the deadliest deadpan look you could muster, hoping he’d catch a hint of how ridiculous he sounded. “I’m actually going to kill you.”

Dean’s grin only widened, those green eyes glimmering in the dim light. “But you’ll look good doing it.”

You rolled your eyes, though you could feel the faint heat creeping up your neck. His charm was both your kryptonite and your fuel—it was hard to stay mad when he looked at you like that, but then again, it also made you want to throw something at him. Preferably something heavy.

Glancing back at the cop car, you sighed. This was ridiculous. Utterly insane. The rational part of your brain screamed at you to shut this down, to come up with a better plan. But the other part—the part that had been on countless hunts with Dean, the part that trusted him more than anyone else—knew you were probably going to go along with it anyway.

“Fine,” you sighed, the word leaving your lips before you even knew you thought it.

The second it slipped out, you mentally kicked yourself. Seriously? Fine? Fine? Really? That’s all it took? One look from him, and you were ready to throw common sense out the window? You weren’t fine. Yet somehow, here you were, agreeing to what had to be the stupidest plan Dean Winchester had ever come up with. And that was a long list.

Dean’s voice cut through your spiralling thoughts, pulling you back to the present. “Did you just... agree with me?” His tone was laced with mock disbelief, but that smirk—oh, that damn smirk—said it all. He was enjoying this way too much, and it didn’t help that the glint in his eyes practically sparkled.

You hated that look. The one that always made your stomach do flips, like a rollercoaster you swore you’d never ride again, but kept getting back on anyway. It wasn’t just the smirk. It was Dean. He had this magnetic pull, and no matter how much your brain screamed No!, your heart—and apparently your mouth—tended to betray you in his presence.

“Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, crossing your arms, trying to regain some control over the situation. You weren’t completely rolling over here. You’d follow him into the fire, sure—but you’d still give him hell for it.

Dean winked, already turning his attention back to the car, pulling out his lock-picking tools and started to unlock the car, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you,” he whispered, shooting you another wink and that cheeky smirk of his that sometimes you wanted to smack and others, kiss until you both looked like smurfs.

Your heart fluttered in spite of itself as you tried to ignore the way he seemed so damn... charming while committing a felony. His words floated around your head. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.” Oh, you knew exactly what he was implying. Your lips twitched involuntarily. Damn him.

You crossed your arms, glaring at the back of his head, “What? My criminal record?”

Dean finally got the lock to pop, a click breaking the silence. He stood up, turning back to you with that grin, “See? Easy as pie.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” he said, with the cocky tone in his voice because he knew he wasn’t wrong. You hated how much he knew it, how much he knew you.

You took a step closer to him, eyes narrowing as you shot him a pointed look. “Just get in the damn car, Winchester.”

Dean chuckled as he pulled the door open, “After you, sweetheart,” he said, gesturing to the passenger seat.

You climbed into the car, the faint smell of cheap air freshener and coffee mixing with the cool air of the night. Dean slid in beside you, looking far too pleased with himself. The engine roared to life, and as the tires crunched over gravel, you couldn’t help but shoot him another sideways glance.

“So, what’s the plan, genius?” you asked, crossing your arms as if that might protect you.

Dean shrugged, “Find the monster, kill the monster, return the car—no harm, no foul.”

“If we end up in jail, you’re explaining this to Sam.” You said, leaning back into the seat, propping your elbow on the door, and resting your chin on your palm.

[suiana]

horny anon! wait for me :(

i wanna stab some bitches too

with you specifically maybe ><

-🎵

dude omg I've thought of a new yan because of u two HELP (bro I can't stop singing THE YOULL NEVER TAKE US ALIVE SONG BECAUSE OF U TWO WTF) (sorry for the shitty work I kinda rushed it while bra shopping LOLOL)

✎ yandere criminal headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― murder, crime, obsessiveness, possessiveness etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! criminal who's your partner in crime. two of the most wanted criminals on the run together. it's just so romantic to him!

✎ yandere! criminal who is the brains while you're the brawns. you do most of the fighting :) he knows you're capable so he focuses on the planning and tactics. both of you rely on each other a lot and it makes his heart swoon ♡

✎ yandere! criminal who sees you as his other half. without you, he's never whole. you complete him. he needs you, and you need him too, right? it doesn't matter, you're staying with him forever now whether you like it or not.

✎ yandere! criminal who murders and kills anyone who tries to take you away from him. just yesterday he murdered a cop who was tailing the both of you! how mean! the cop only had a pair of handcuffs so it means he only wanted to take you away, right?! don't worry, he already sent him away, far far away from the both of you :)

✎ yandere! criminal who steals jewels and money for you. look! you're so pretty all decorated in expensive jewels and clothes! he'll make sure you stay pretty like this :) oh no, he's threatening a jeweller again dawg.

✎ yandere! criminal who'll make sure that the both of you never get caught. just as he belongs to you, you belong to him. how could he let anyone ruin that? don't worry, he didn't graduate from university with honours for nothing :)

✎ "you're my other half, how could I ever let you go?"

[wild0moon]

eating up ur captain design............ /pos

can i ask how pico and captain met in your au (i think its an au anyway)?

very canon adjacent, but it's an au, yeah. my friend and i's funky little universe just to the left of canon where we take things too seriously, you feel me

short version: they happened to meet at a cop shop while pico was waiting for (yet another) police interrogation, weeks to a month after the events of pico's school. john took an interest in pico and offered, mostly as a joke, to teach pico how to handle a gun properly. what was supposed to be a one-off lesson for a quick bit of entertainment turned into regular practice sessions and accidental (but immediate) emotional attachment from both parties. whoops!

and if you'll indulge me, here's the long version, because it's been brewing in my brain recently and i guess my hand slipped

(WARNING: descriptions of and vague flashbacks to the events of pico's school)

💚💚💚💚💚

The police station was usually quiet at this time of day. Idle tapping of fingers against a keyboard, muffled sounds of cars passing outside or of people talking in another room, none obtrusive enough to disturb the thoughts swirling in his head.

Now though, he was entirely preoccupied by annoyance.

Shut up. Why are you so loud? If you don't like pigs, why did you even come in here?

Pico had seen the strange man in black from the corner of his eye, swaggering in like he owned the place, only to start chatting to the receptionist with all the warm familiarity of two former classmates who never really liked each other very much. Derisive whispers in Pico's head grew louder in concert with his rising stress, adding to the noise, birthing a cacophony he couldn't escape from.

The man went quiet, and for a brief moment, Pico was sure he felt eyes on him. His own gaze stayed firmly on his sneakers.

The receptionist finally piped up with something other than a disinterested hum. "That's, uh, that Pico kid. Pico Fulp?"

"Ohh, so you're the kid who shot up his school."

Pico's head snapped up.

In an instant, his vision was dyed red, blood running so hot it threatened to burn him up from the inside. He didn't know when he got to his feet, but he was already taking steps toward the man.

"It wasn't me!" he snarled, words bubbling up and bursting out before he could stop them. "It wasn't! Watch your fucking mouth or I'll break your jaw, you stupid—"

"I got it, kid, calm down," the man talked him down, in a far more stern tone than Pico had been ready for, stopping him in his tracks. Matter-of-factly, he added: "I don't care how tough you are, you've got another thing coming if you think you can break any bone in my body."

Pico grit his teeth, fists clenched at his sides.

The white-hot fire of rage burnt out almost as quickly as it ignited, his little body only growing colder as he actually looked at the man standing before him, red giving way to black and white.

Tall and broad-shouldered, wearing sunglasses so dark it was almost impossible to see the inscrutable eyes behind them. He was uniformed — the army, not the police. Which rank was the three stripes for? Was the 'Captain' on the tag his rank, or his name?

Pico dared to speak up again. "It wasn't me," he repeated, far softer than before.

Captain turned bodily to face him. "I heard you the first time. So, what did you actually do?"

He looked away again, wringing his freshly scarred hands. "I... I stopped it, sir. I killed the shooters."

The slight movement of Captain's eyebrows snared the corner of Pico's vision. "Really now?"

"I... I found a big gun in the janitor's closet, they must've stashed it in there," the words spilled forth, as if he were back in that vile interrogation room already. "So I took it, and I shot them. All of them. There were four, a-and I didn't even know what I was doing, I was scared out of my mind, I'd never held a gun before in my life, I don't know how I—"

"You've never used a gun, but you still managed to take down four armed threats all by yourself?" There was a note of interest in Captain's voice, despite him crossing his arms.

Pico swallowed thickly.

"Please leave me alone!"

"I was told to just scare you! I wasn't gonna kill you!"

"...Two of them weren't moving, sir. I'd disarmed them, and they were afraid..."

Captain hummed. "Right. And the other two?"

No answer. Memories of callous men in blue giving him withering looks or laughing in his face when he told the truth kept his jaw clamped shut.

Captain lifted his head, looking around the otherwise empty room. "Where are your parents?"

A half-hearted shrug. "They don't want anything to do with me right now, sir."

They never did in the first place.

The soldier's thick eyebrows furrowed, but for the life of him, Pico wasn't sure what it meant. The man was as easy to read as a book with all its pages glued together. That, or he was just illiterate.

"I probably only lived because we were all just kids who barely knew what we were doing," Pico found himself saying, as if he hadn't also slaughtered a giant alien that day — Cassandra had been young and inexperienced in her own way, too. "If something like that happened again, I… I dunno."

Captain said nothing, just staring down at him, seeming thoughtful.

Silence fell over the room for a long moment, disturbed faintly by the nasty voices Pico had learned only he could hear. When the man's voice broke through the murmurs again, it hardly sounded any kinder.

"Look, if I were you, I'd stop pissing myself and go get some actual experience under my belt."

"But—"

He wasn't done. "You know where the gun range is, right? The one five minutes north of here? Meet me there at thirteen-hundred tomorrow. Even a minute late and the offer expires, got it?"

…What?

Pico lifted his gaze to meet Captain's, incredulous. "You mean... But, why would you help me?"

It was Captain's turn to offer a lazy shrug. "I'm bored outta my skull, and this is the most entertainment I've gotten in months."

He said that, but he didn't look very amused. Besides, a soldier like him surely didn't have time to waste on such petty entertainment as watching a child grappling with fear. Pico tried scrutinizing the man's face for a moment longer, unsure what he was even searching for, but quickly found himself at a loss.

The easy answer was that it was a genuine offer to help, to teach him how to properly handle a firearm and put that aspect of his trepidation to rest. Pico wasn't sure if he believed that, but for some reason, he really hoped it was true. That would mean that Captain saw something in him, something more than the unfortunate kid and murderer that the other adults saw, something worth taking a chance on.

Nice. This man, a total stranger, was being nice.

When was the last time anyone said something nice to him?

(Weeks ago, in a sterile hospital room, two hands gently clasping one of his own, their owner smiling in spite of the anxiety behind those pretty black eyes, the sweetest voice Pico had ever heard telling him over and over how everything was going to be okay—)

Pico shook his head, as if he could physically clear the memory away.

He's gone now. Stop thinking about him.

By the time Pico dragged himself back to the present, Captain was already on the way out, muttering something about the stench of hogs. Pico watched him walk away, until he disappeared from view.

"Prick," the receptionist muttered, returning their attention to their computer.

With little else to do, Pico returned to his seat. His own thoughts quickly took center stage as usual, but they were different now, looking tentatively to the future, rather than the bloody memories that tugged insistently at his back.

It had been a while since he had something to look forward to.

[ovaryacted]

For that prompt game thingy

99 with leon x slasher reader maybe :0

Hey!! Thank you for requesting! I'm literally so sorry this took me such a long time to write and it turned out much longer than I anticipated. I've never really done anything dark-ish or with suspense, so I wanted to take a shot at it and see what my brain came up with but of course, it took me a while lol. I think for this one probably RE2R Leon, just him as a regular cop, and he lives in a city so dealer’s choice. Anyways, hopefully, this is interesting cause I’m a little nervous lolz. :) [ prompt game ]

99. “We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.” RE2R Leon x reader [cw: slightly dark themes, mentions of body parts & violence] - 1.5k words

It hasn't been long since Leon started his new job as a rookie cop, excited was an understatement. Yet it seemed as if the universe had given him the worst possible combination of a new role and what seemed to be someone on a killing spree.

The first case happened a few weeks ago, a young male was reported to be slashed over his torso. It was one knife wound to the upper chest, clean and efficient, followed by another to the lung and one more up the stomach. Leon was on the scene, answering the call of a distressed citizen when they found the body in an alleyway, and the sight was enough to make him nauseous. It was seen as a premeditated murder case, but there were no traces of the perpetrator left behind. No fingerprints, no lost weapons, nothing.

Like a ghost in the wind, it was a dead end.

The more experienced agents took over the investigation, and Leon was back to being a cop. He thought it was over, that he’d be able to go back on patrol duty and ride along in his car.

But that wasn’t the end of it.

The murders became more frequent, almost for show, and the way the deaths were done became more theatric as time passed. Week after week, more people began to disappear from the city, mostly male victims each torn apart in exuberant ways. A gash up the spine, a straight slash across the neck, another had an arm and leg detached from the person's torso. But the main wound on the chest of each victim was the only controlled variable between all of them.

Either way, it seemed like someone was enjoying their time passionately tearing other people apart.

“I just can’t wrap my head around it”, Leon mumbled to himself as you washed up the dishes in the kitchen after dinner. He had been out working on these cases tirelessly, constantly on patrol, and barely been home with you as a result of everything piling up.

“Who just goes around and starts randomly killing people? I mean, this feels like some shit out of a horror movie”, he continued to speak, raising his head to look at the back of your head.

“Some people are just crazy like that. You know how people get inspiration from those crazed fanatics on those cult forums”, you commented, finishing washing the cooking pot you had in the sink and putting it on the drying rack.

“If it was one thing I wasn’t expecting, was to deal with a mass murderer the first few weeks of my damn job”, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as the stress was starting to take its toll.

“Just your luck huh?”, you said with a teasing smirk, wiping the knife you were cleaning with a soapy sponge.

You were almost methodical with the way you handled the blade, watching the suds sliding off of it as you rinsed it, careful not to cut yourself. You dried it with one of the dishtowels you threw to the side, the metal gleaming under the kitchen light. Giving it one last good wipe you put it back in the wooden block along with the rest of your knife collection.

“Maybe what you need is a vacation. Away from this mess. You have some PTO you could take right?”, you asked as you walked towards him, sitting on his lap while he remained seated on the dining room chair. He pondered for a bit, watching how you flicked the ends of his hair and curled it around your finger.

“I mean I do but…the chief might not like it if I left so abruptly. Don’t want to make the wrong impression”, he contemplated it, trying to fight you on your words but it was something on his mind.

“You need a break Leon, from all of this. Say it’s a family emergency or something. I hate seeing you so stressed like this baby”, you pouted at him, lips puckering out as you kissed him on the tip of the nose. “Just a few days, that’s all I’m asking”

He caressed your lower back affectionately as you sat on his lap, feeling your hands squeezing his shoulders and rubbing his chest. The nagging voice in his head kept thinking about your proposition, the image of being away with you and just enjoying his time sounded beyond appealing. It wouldn’t be so bad right? He glanced at you and gave you a small smile.

“A break doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll see if I can snag a couple of days off okay?”, Leon said to you, and you cheered happily at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“We'll go take a little vacation. Just you and me”, your eyes held that promise of excitement as they bore into Leon’s, content that he was at least going to try for your sake.

You were patient as you waited for any sign of Leon possibly getting time off, thinking that you wouldn’t have any luck with the way things were. But the moment you were granted a win once he spoke to the chief, you nearly jumped on top of him from joy. It didn’t take long before you both packed your bags and drove off into the mountains, renting a cabin that would be good for a weekend of leisure. The both of you were excited to finally get away from all the chaos in the city and to just spend some quality time together.

But what you envisioned when it came to a vacation was completely different from what Leon had in mind.

He didn’t recall how it happened. One minute you two were having dinner, eating some steak and potatoes paired with some red wine. The next, his head felt dizzy as he struggled to keep himself upright, calling out your name before his vision faded to black.

Now he found himself with his arms and ankles tied together by some rope, slouched on the floor and disheveled. He didn’t know how he managed to get into this precarious situation, but it was all giving him whiplash. The wood paneling of the walls was different, it was dim and quiet in the cabin and his surroundings were unusual.

Was he back at the cabin? Was he still in the same place with you? Where were you?

His mind was going a mile a minute and his nerves were on high, the skills he’s developed from being a cop going into overdrive to come up with a solution. Leon started looking around, scrabbling to find anything to help him free his hands so he could look for you.

But that’s when he heard it, when your bubbly laughter filtered through the crisp air surrounding him. His ears perked up the sound, perceptive blue eyes observing you diligently as you came into view. There was a dark and twisted grin on your face, something he’s never seen before.

“What the hell is going on?”, he was confused, couldn’t make sense of the current circumstances. But all he wondered was why you looked at him as if he were a meal. Some plaything for your enjoyment.

“Well, I needed to get you out of here. I couldn’t keep having you on my trail sweetheart. That’s when the fun ends”, in your hand was the familiar kitchen blade, shiny and sharpened, gleaming despite the darkness of the room you were both in. It took a second before the realization hit him, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as a wave of overlapping emotions washed over him.

“It was you?”, his eyes widened as he watched you, finally connecting the dots. The slasher he’d been looking for was right under his nose the entire time, so deeply hidden he didn’t even think it was possible. He was sleeping with the devil, and it made his stomach churn.

“Why? Why did you do it?!”, it felt like his entire world was falling apart, his sense of normalcy that he had worked so hard to achieve was gone in the blink of an eye. And he couldn’t do anything to save it.

“Had some things to take care of, needed to get my stress out somehow. Sorry if I have hobbies”, this was all a joke to you, if anything it was entertaining to see Leon suffer.

“It doesn’t have to be like this. Nothing bad has to happen here”, he felt pathetic as he begged, looking at you in hopes of finding any trace of morality left.

All you could do was laugh at him, loud and shameless. You took a step closer, crouching down to his level as you grazed the tip of the knife from his throat up towards his chin. Your gaze darkened and your smile curled, sending a chill down Leon’s spine.

“We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[secondarythings]

Oh god on your comment, you made a good point that they said "suspects" but I swore they mentioned "3 suspects" as well, and it turns out to be in Rietveld's flashback. Very "blink and miss" moment!

(I can't attach pictures to comments, you don't gotta reply to this ask. Thank you so much for bantering this silly game with me)

There it is, thank you so much. So it's definitive that there were only 3.

In my mind I can still justify DJ breaking in instead of being arrested, he had all his gear including a mask and deadly weapons and let's be honest, he decapitated a guy on the roof hours after the first victim was decapitated, he definitely is a murder suspect. Plus he beat up cops on the roof.

No wonder that was the final push for Berlage to go after writers with violence, one of the big 3 kills the other two and then styles himself as judge, jury and executioner of the code of the streets.

I love talking about brc, let's go on

Side note, the last thing Faux saw before losing his head was a fusion of DJ and Felix and that got me thinking about Steven Universe's concept of fusions (that idea permanently changed my brain). To Faux, it's his worst nightmare. To DJ, the exact opposite

[fox-guardian]

please PLEASE we need more of that somewhere else au

hi i've been sitting on this ask for a hot minute cuz i've been trying to think of how events in this world would line up with events in the og timeline. like.

i'm trying to figure out gerry's family situation. because he bonds with this universe's martin over their mommy issues, but his mom couldn't have found and gotten obsessed with a leitner, since they don't exist in this world. so how could she become a killer? well, she does it The Normal Way. no spooky shit, she just kills people for her own purposes.

and what about eric? currently i'm thinking he was left in the dark about her whole Thing because in this world, he didn't have the pre-exposure to weird shit via the institute so he's just. basically clueless the whole time they're together cuz he doesn't wanna invade her privacy too much. especially since she gets so Defensive. until gerry gets born and he gets Concerned that his wife is focusing more on the hobbies he's allowed her to keep to herself than on caring for their own child, so then he confronts her and figures out about the murders, and tries to call the police, and she tries to stop him and in the scuffle she blinds him (that's right baby he Remains Eyeless in this au)

she manages to frame him for the murders and he's locked away for ~13 years ish and she raises gerry in that time, giving him So Many Issues and eventually she just. goes back to the murders. but more subtly. only since there's More Murders In The Area Again the cops catch her and free eric and WHOO GERRY HAS HIS DAD NOW and eric loves him so much. they bond and it's wonderful. (this is obviously where we've branched off from lining up with canon this is The Good Timeline)

gerry grows up with his epic and cool dad who bonds with him via music and shitty hair dye jobs and laments that he can't see his son's cool art but gerry still describes it to him and he's like "oh that sounds so cool. i'd get that tattoo'd" and BOOM. GERRY TATTOO ARTIST DREAMS BEGIN.

he starts at a shop, gets really good, his specialty is stylized horror-related tattoos and portraits. years go by, a new guy comes in and wants to start an apprenticeship, gerry takes him under his wing. dude is pretty good and they keep working together, the guy is really good at writing script so he does a lot of text and stuff, and a lot of line-heavy designs. that guy is Martin.

one day martin informs gerry that he's noticed him being off lately, he gets concerned for his health and eventually after a lot of nagging and a one-man intervention, martin manages to get gerry to a doctor and OH NO, THERE'S A TUMOR IN HIS BRAIN but good news is they caught it in time!! now gerry has a big cool scar on his head and owes martin his life.

and then fellas. Fellas. is it gay to open a tattoo shop with the man who you taught how to tattoo and now you feel is your equal in his own right and also who saved your life because he Knew You That Well.

eric thinks so. and he kept making annoying grins about it that only got worse when gerry told him they'd made it official ("dad please" "I KNEW YOU CRAZY KIDS WOULD MAKE IT WORK" "dad" "when's the wedding" "DAD")

can you tell i've been thinking about gerry and martin a lot.

to bring it back to the "somewhere else" part, OG martin works at a coffee shop trying to get by with OG jon and gerry and eric happen to come in one day, and then another day gerry comes in with martin, Excited To Share With Him The Barista That Looks Uncannily Like Him But Older. and OG martin is, of course, shitting his pants because Oh No This Probably Isn't Good BUT THEN HE LOOKS AT MARTIN. and he's SO mad. this martin looks SO MUCH COOLER THAN HIM. he has GOLD FACIAL PIERCINGS and a SLEEVE TATTOO of ROSES. AND HE DOESN'T LOOK DEPRESSED.

he brings this up to og jon and he's just like ".... did you want to get piercings. i mean you know you'd look cool" and jon is just feeling very 😳👀 about that part but martin is just "WHAT, AND COPY HIM?? I CAN'T DO THAT"

so uh yeah that's uh. that's the most detailed i've got so far. i've got a little bit of jon and sasha and surprisingly little for the stokers. but yeah <3 this got long <3

[toastys]

I have a really out-there theory that The Pale itself is symbolically/metaphorically/allegorically/a physical manifestation of the influence of The Players of Disco Elysium. The Pale wiggled its way into Harry's comatose, bender-beaten brain and shattered him into twenty-six different pieces for the Players to convene with. Strap in cause this is a Long One.

The Pale is often described as 'consisting of' everything that has ever happened in Elysium's past - the memories of everyone you meet, speech, radio waves, etc - it would make sense that it would be almost completely inaccessible to the Player as its own plot device. You can't just dip your head into Elysium's Lore Sauna to learn everything immediately... In a sense, you have amnesia too, and are learning everything with Harry as the catalyst. He is an unreliable narrator in an extremely specific position in the world - as a cop stuck on a case in a destitute part of Insulinde - allowing you to absorb the worldbuilding little by little instead of slamming you in the face with all of history at once.

Elysium is giant, but not infinite. Not even the people who live in Elysium know what it looks like from above. The Pale acts as a physical barrier around the most important parts of this world, and is eating away at it - much like the Player absorbs its geography, politics, and cultural sensibilities to utilise to the best of their abilities through Harry. Dora and Harry's past being inaccessible due to physical or mental manifestations of the Pale is another way of motivating the Player to shape Harry into someone new, as You are all he has now.

(She'll be coming soon. Le Retour. One day I will return to your side.)

The rest is out-of-bounds. Dora is not even seen in the game, since Harry's subconscious can only see her as Dolores Dei, ramming home the fact that Dora is long gone from Harry's life and the realities of poverty he must face. Dolores Dei was killed 300 years ago by a person she was close to after being perceived as something inhuman, and the bourgeois are not human.

Dora is middle class, and using this, she has literally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually transcended from the love she became disillusioned with. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Harry because she thought he 'looked cool' during a brief economic boom. When the economy went to shit and the shit that made Harry look cool became outdated and tacky, she jumped ship using her class status. Harry is haunted by this - she is eternally leaving him in his dreams (his subconscious saying: 'why couldn't you take me with you?'). This mirrors the upper-class vacating Revachol, that was once the capital of the world, not once but twice. However, after everything, Shivers can still take the letter from you. The city proclaims her love for you. She finds you coat to keep you warm. You can't get Dora back; you couldn't even save yourself from crashing and burning - but the city needs you.

^ Key phrase 'Let me'. Implying that Harry of all people could kill it via neglect, and that Harry of all people could stop a fucking nuke from dropping on it. Shivers - the City, the Pale itself - could have taken Harry's memories away; the memories that drove him to attempt suicide - and replaced it with voices which guide him (however flawed) and an outside influence so far removed from Elysium that it can see beyond its outermost walls. The Player, baby.

Furthermore, the Pale is often implicated to be made up of alternative universes that contain events that never happened in whatever current playthrough...

This supports the idea that the Pale - and the resident pale-brained Inland Empire - is at least unconsciously aware of future events. Inland Empire deals in both Harry's inaccessible past and every future that could happen. Furthermore, could this imply that the route in which Kim survives the Tribunal and makes it to the island with Harry is the 'canon' series of events?

So, the Pale - which eats away at the fabric of Elysium - contains information from alternative timelines, and the future? Sounds a little like a Player's cumulative knowledge coming into Elysium to influence events that would otherwise remain unaffected... This would track with Harry's record of Knowing Shit that he definitely has no way of finding out, or even just 'can-opening' people. It's an essential gameplay mechanic turned into a pseudo-supra-natural ability. Other characters pointedly cannot read people's minds, see things that are happening miles away as if they were there themselves, or slow down time enough to make thought-out decisions in the blink of an eye. The Player, combined with Harry's Skills, may be a kind of lightning-rod for the Pale's container of near-infinite information. Of course, it is fallible, but it can also be excruciatingly accurate - so much so that you can freak people out by knowing or predicting shit. The Pale gives voice to Revachol via Shivers; voice to the RCM via EDC; and voice to the inner minds of the people around Harry via Empathy. The way Harry's brain is organised at all (via lists/trees) is genuinely an RPG mechanic based around extracting as much information as possible... Like the Pale. Human can-opener, sending facts straight back into the Player.

^ See, Kim? Harry can teleport... By the Player glitching him with game mechanics. So, the Pale is the out-of-bounds area inaccessible to characters? Where you have to travel through a physical 'loading screen' skybox of nothing that can do nothing but repeat other areas of Elysium?

I enjoy reading about people speculating on Harry's potential status as an Innocence, while also acknowledging the fact that every Innocence that has ever existed was elected from already-high-status by a politically-motivated court. There have probably existed people with Harry's/ previous Innocence's abilities all throughout history, but were simply never going to go anywhere due to their social standing. Dolores Dei was technically a nepo baby, and built a cult that absolved her of every crime against humanity via religion and political absolutism. A husband who vanished from history, as if his only purpose was to introduce her to the court. Her influence was a part of her Innocence- people were caught in the spell of her (funded) intelligence and (happenstance) beauty. There is another theory that Innocences were Player characters in different genres of games that all took place in Elysium: the Perikarnassian as a 'civilisation builder'; Francongero as a 'dark ages royalist military simulation'; Dolores Dei as a 'political strategy' (maybe Innocence Sola as a representation of the eventual disillusionment of Elysium in Moralism as a religion and the Innocentic system as a whole?). Wouldn't it make sense for the entire world to revolve around the Player? Wouldn't it make sense for them to have a massive outward impact, the future and history seemingly manifesting itself through them? Through the choices they make - the ways they choose to play the game, against an antagonist, and towards a victory that only they can see?

Wouldn't it be natural for Dolores Dei's assassination be the result of Her Player not investing enough skill points into 'appearing human to outsiders'?

^ The bourgeois are not human. 'We were supposed to come up with this ourselves!" - a reference to Dolores Dei pulling the future out of the Pale; from future universes where she never existed and retconning inventions into this one. Inland Empire who?

Appearing so perfect that she seemed inhuman worked for a while. People adored her, submitted to her. But, it eventually backfired.

An Innocence of Humanism - Humanism being a ideological strategy to increase the population and produce more expensive goods? Gaining EXP?

At the same time, using her wiles and her 'Army of Humanity' to crush and slaughter any dissenters to her rule? Holding tin soldiers between her fingers... The most 'socially secluded' and 'least self-aware' - perhaps secluded to prevent a game over? Un-self-aware because her consciousness is literally separate from Elysium? Is her assassination fundamentally detrimental to Elysium, the world coasting on the Player's absence like a softlocked game? Is Disco Elysium taking place in a 'game over'? 'Elysium' is the word for the resting place of dead gods...

Harry, without the Player, has made an absolutely clusterfuck of his life out of grief. It cannot be discounted, however, that he was an incredible detective. 216 cases cleared, earning the reputation of being a 'human-can-opener'; knowing things that he has no feasible way of knowing; carving a path across Martinaise and taking in every tiny little thing related to the case. From the Phasmid-traps to the Maybells. Perhaps pre-amnesia Harry even knew about the sniper, throwing his shoe through the window to gaud Iosef into shooting again.

^ Harry's parallels to Dolores Dei? Her toy soldiers, his human cans... Appearing out of nowhere and causing an avalanche, people both attracted to and terrified of them. The difference being - Harry's in a detective game where you start playing as a poor, ugly, drunk, amnesiac cop - and Dolores' political strategy where you begin climbing the ranks of the richest of the rich as a beautiful and immensely educated woman. Harry's scared of his own supra-natural abilities to the point where he doesn't even want to think about how they work? Talk about a sequel....

Who fucking knows what was going through Harry's head before the game started. It doesn't matter. All we know is that we now have an option to combat past-Harry's declaration of 'getting worse'. And we can save-scum this shit as many times as we want until we succeed, with a precinct of voices to converse with when it is necessary to read between the lines or take an action. We even know how likely it is for Harry to succeed at something, down to the percentage. In real life, we might have something of a clue about how likely it is to make a jump or whatever, but Harry's got it down to a percentile. Because he's a goddamn RPG main character, and the Pale cleared out the room for us in his head since Elysium needs another Innocence. One who is not 'innocent' of anything at all. One who is an absolute dumpster-fire drenched in flammable alcohol, representing the culmination of Revachol at this point in history. Born in a place where people go to die, contracting a disease that everyone was too poor to be vaccinated against, catching the momentary fancy of a richer upper-class only to be vacated and haunted into a recession fueled by addiction and poverty - now, reborn and rising and able to prevent his death in as many ways as the game allows us to.

^ Access to hidden places and circulation among those who are hidden - is this referring to his uncannily good detective work, and the trust and information he is able to can-open from those in hiding from one thing or another? 'Hidden places' could even refer to the future (or things otherwise unrevealed to most people), in this context. 'Hidden people' could be those who have been so downtrodden by capitalism that they are essentially nobodies - trapped in spirals of poverty, addiction, etc, - just like Harry. He is able to converse with them on semi-equal footing because of this.

His status within the RCM and whatever special treatments he socially benefits from is apparently paramount in him saving Revachol. Perhaps the RCM will become less of a tool used by the Coalition and more of a People's Army, fighting foreign control. A free Revachol. Not everyone in the RCM is a fan of this whole 'Moralism' thing...

'ONE DAY I WILL RETURN TO YOUR SIDE', burning in fuel that Harry lights with a tiny spark, written to be seen by the Coalition Warships above by a young revolutionary. The flames warm them both. We don't know how exactly Harry will stop the nuke from falling on Revachol - it could be something as little as a butterfly effect decision he takes, or as big as playing a leading role in Le Retour. A plea from the city to be vigilant. A stack of boxes, representing all of history, holding for a small moment with the help of Harry. Something beautiful is going to happen.

This one kind of got away from me, so thank you for reading all of it. What I think I really want to say is that our determination and hope to see the HANGED MAN through to the end is for us to witness all of Recachol's bloody history and fall in love with it anyway. To want to make it better, even a tiny little decaying part of it like Martinaise. Even a broken, objectively terrible man like Harrier Du Bois. Disco Elysium was meant to be only a prelude to a bigger series of games; a taster of the wider world. Sadly, we'll probably never get anything like that due to the original artists who created this world being fired from ZA/UM. But I don't think we'll stop loving or dreaming of this wonderful story and the characters who inhabit it. Capitalism can't kill an idea, after all.

^ Thank you to these people for planting this girthy idea in my head. I need a lie down.

[biomic]

I take it you don't like Drive (Chase, Heart, Medic etc notwithstanding) so how would you make it better?

complaining about gaim and drive in one night it's 2015 again babey

capture roidmudes instead of blowing them up!!!! cop toku is always gonna have dodgy implications but drive was just so egregious about it to me. i remember sanjo saying that after gaim was more serialized, he would ensure that every episode of drive would have a cool fight where a monster was defeated. cool if you're doing a show about some interdimensional tyrant that eats universes or whatever, less cool if you're doing a show where your cop protagonist kills every robot he fights without a second thought until the end where the audience is maybe kinda supposed to feel bad for them actually? "isn't it sad that the roidmudes couldn't escape this unavoidable fate?" it was very avoidable! extremely avoidable! tony you CHOSE

develop gou and chase's friendship more organically. there's some good stuff there in theory but there needed to be way more "damn it, im kinda warming up to this guy >:(" as opposed to the constant one-sided antagonism that went on for far too long. as is, i just couldn't buy into chase's death scene or gou's big cathartic fight with banno at all, though i totally get why it's such a highlight for others. really enjoyed mach's v-cin tho

in a world where sexism doesn't exist there is no reason on earth kiriko should not be the main character of this show. everything that makes shinnosuke unique as a protagonist also applies to her, doubly so in that instead of having some random dead cop for a dad, her father is the big bad! imagine kiriko, gou, heart, and medic all fighting together to stop the abusive father who raised them? could be pretty poetic and tie a lot of things together. oh well, here's a half-hearted kuuga callback in a parking lot instead

in the world we actually live in where the powers that be at toei and bandai could've easily allowed this, couldn't kiriko at least have become proto-drive in the back half of the show? even pulling a kiva and having it just be for one episode would've been appreciated. could've been a perfect way to cap off her arc, having her overcome her trauma from the global freeze by literally becoming the hero that saved her to protect others. instead, everyone lies to her about everything involving banno to spare her feelings because she's literally a fragile 24 year old minor

just let kiriko do ANYTHING AFTER GOU'S DEBUT MAKES HER BASICALLY IRRELEVANT FOR THE REST OF THE SEASON, ACTUALLY?? PLEASE?????? IM BEGGING YOU

heart and brain kiss with tongue

[musical-chick-13]

who is your favorite iteration of the doctor to be shipped with river?

I thought a lot about my answer to this, and unfortunately I am going to give the BIGGEST cop-out of a response and say that I can't actually choose between Eleven and Twelve 😭😭

Just for the sake of having an answer, I'll say Twelve, just because he's my favorite Doctor. (And as much as I love it when characters are so broken up about losing people they love that they can't even talk about it--i.e. series 7 Eleven--I do very much appreciate the fact that we got to see Twelve actually consistently grieve onscreen. Also don't TALK to me about how the specific type of goodness he was able to successfully impart to Missy-about helping someone even when there's little to no chance of it succeeding, of getting anything good out of it for yourself, or of the other person ever knowing about it-CAME DIRECTLY FROM RIVER.)

But I really don't have like. A Specific Preference. I skew more toward the Doctors we've seen River interact with onscreen (and specifically during the Moffat Era because as everyone knows it's my favorite, lol), but I've really liked the fic I've read of her with Eight, and some of the stuff in the supplementary materials has gotten me to come around on her with Ten as well (I am notably not a Particularly Huge Fan of Ten). And I also even wrote a story once about her and Thirteen (that I then orphaned later for very stupid reasons). (It's here, if anyone's interested.)

All this being said, I wouldn't have fallen in love with this ship as much as I have if Eleven/River didn't exist. Twelve/River sees them both finally on the same page, and the whole "HE WOULDN'T BE IN LOVE ENOUGH TO BE STANDING [IN DANGER] WITH ME (*has actually been in the middle of said danger the entire time because he is in love enough*) was...look, that CHANGED MY BRAIN. PERMANENTLY. But I don't think people appreciate how truly DERANGED Eleven and River are.

She insults him/makes him look stupid and he just goes like this -> 😍. He starts accepting his interest in her WHEN HE LEARNS SHE'S IN PRISON FOR MURDER (probably for murdering him). They get so caught up in flirting (over River being A Scary Person specifically) that they completely forget that their best friend/family member is in the room with them and also in extreme danger. She expresses her affection by shooting his ridiculous hats off of his head. "Are you married/are you asking/yes." (*cue the most charmed expression on his face to ever exist*) "It's a shame you were busy that day" (<-because she had POISONED HIM AND HE WAS DYING). "And unlike me, she really doesn't mind shooting people, I shouldn't like that, kind of do a bit." "You graffiti-ed the oldest cliff face in the universe!"/"Well you wOuLdN't aNsWeR yOuR pHoNe." "You've got that face on again"/"What face?"/"The 'he's hot when he's clever' face"/"This is my normal face"/"Yes it is." "I do NOT sneak out at night to parties with RIVER SONG"/"How is she?"/"Fine. 😊"

His response to someone bringing her up and mentioning that she tried to kill him is "totally married her XD." She confessed her love to him via "getting the whole universe to mention how much they need him and agreed to marry him and he's still like, "Oh, gotta go check my fucking hair before I say hello to her again" in TATM. (Fun fact, the "Sorry honey, traffic was hell" line was originally, "Traffic was a bitch" which would have been the like. Highest-level curse word we've ever seen this man say, and it would have been in the context of trying to cleverly greet River which AGAIN, DERANGED BEHAVIOR.)

Fixed point that would destroy the universe if it were messed with? Too bad! Not if she thinks she has to kill him! "I'LL SUFFER IF I HAVE TO KILL YOU, MORE THAN EVERY LIVING THING IN THE UNIVERSE" OH MY GOOOODDDDDDDDD. (<-Worth noting that he calls her out over this for all of about two minutes before deciding the best way out of the situation is having an impromptu wedding.) She tells him TO HIS FACE "When I was little, I wanted to marry you" and then ALMOST INTENTIONALLY PERMANENTLY KILLS HIM LIKE TWO MINUTES LATER. He's dying on the floor in Berlin and still has the energy to go absolutely FERAL over the idea of someone hurting her. In the series 7 finale, she isn't even tangible and only exists through a conduit in Clara's head and he goes, "Too bad! I can hold you and kiss you and talk with you because I miss you, screw the actual laws of physics." (And then he's like, "Hmm, I probably look stupid right now. Oh well, back to talking to my wife, who I refused to say goodbye to for God Knows How Long because I would have been too sad.")

HE FALLS FOR HER POISONING GAMBIT BECAUSE HE'S HAVING TOO MUCH FUN FLIRTING WITH HER.

DUDE.

(Like, Twelve is also Deranged™ about her too, as evidenced by responding to her threat of cutting out his organs in alphabetical order with, "Which alphabet" and being jealous at the MOST inopportune times and, while in the middle of them fighting over who gets to risk sacrificing themselves, saying, "NOT ONE LIVING THING IS WORTH YOU" which is. Sure a line!!! That sure lives in my head rent-free!!!!! Also they have a Bonding Moment™ about carrying a severed head around in a bag. But the absolute INSANITY that goes on between River and Eleven is. Incredible.)

.........uhhhhh this. This got away from me. I also didn't really answer your question. Sorry? (<-Not actually sorry.)

[homicidal-slvt]

"Caution: Fragile"

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Same universe as Stitched Hearts, Vodka Soaked Memory, Even When I Doubt You & The Canine.

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Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader

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Important: Kitty is technically my OC however it is written as if you are her so it's still an x reader, her appearance isn't described, Kitty is bisexual and that is sometimes mentioned when I write her.

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Warnings: Angst, Hinted at PTSD, Mental Breakdown, Death Mention, Hurt + Slight Comfort

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You were in the kitchen attempting to make some tea, perhaps the hot herbal liquid would help.

Maybe it'd provide some amount of ease, calm your stomach after it gave you trouble all morning. The rapids of your mind bleeding in and effecting your physical health as well.

Meanwhile Leon was on his way to visit you, he had sent you a few texts all of which you hadn't even noticed. In too much of a brain fog to check your phone.

He couldn't help but be concerned- you were always so bubbly no matter what and here recently you were just- off.

There was this weight holding you down and you seemed to push everyone away.

Leon has experienced this many times and you were always there to pull him out of the pit he buried himself in. He'd be damned if he let you make the mistakes he has.

••

Your grip on the mug tightened as you gazed at the swirling brown liquid, it felt like the walls were suddenly closing in.

Dead. Their all dead.

Why can't your mind just shut up? Why did he have to come back? Why did it have to bring up all the memories you worked so hard to bury?

The hurt you tried to kill by focusing on everyone but yourself.

I couldn't help. I couldn't save them. I couldn't save him.

The mug hit the floor hot tea splattering against your legs, shards scattering across the floor in an unholy mess.

The burn against your bare legs and feet didn't much distract the screams in your head, tumbling backwards and bumping into the counter, now seated on the floor crying desperately into your hands.

"Stop it..."

••

Leon made his way up the steps towards the familiar white door, raising his hand to knock his heart stopped in his chest.

The sound of your scream and sobs making it's way to him, in a frenzied panic he kicked the door in not even hesitating- damages he'd worry about paying you back for later.

Heavy steps made their way to you, your head tilting up to spot his form closing in on you, vision blurred from tears.

"No- NO!!!"

You tried to scramble away at first until you heard his voice.

"Kitty- Kitty it's me... Hey- it's me... It's Leon. You're okay. You're okay. I'm here now... I'm right here..."

He eased closer carefully and pulled you into his arms, his hold on you soft as though you were a fragile ornament. Tears soaked into his brown jacket as you cried into him, his eyes settled on your quivering form.

He's never seen you like this. His heart sinks to the pit of his stomach, internally insisting on holding you as long as it takes.

He will never be first to let go.

Despite the slightly roughened exterior deep down he was still that rookie cop, whether he knew it or not that warmth he held was the same, the will to do whatever it takes to help others- the fear of loss.

All remained in a similar way to how it did back then, he's changed but not entirely.

You two were similar in that sense, neither entirely dark nor light. Just two eclipses holding each other tight in hopes of a better tomorrow.

Don't get too close, Leon.

These shards are sharp and I'd hate for you to bleed because of me.

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{I have a full backstory for Kitty but no idea how to effectively work all that hell show in so- if y'all wanna know it just shoot me a dm and I'll tell ya. Warning though it's really dark.}

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{I would like to add I based the way Kitty is handling/experiencing things off myself and my experience with PTSD so it may not be relatable for everyone.}

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{@sofasoap }

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{More Content}

[anastasiaskarsgard]

I really like the idea that after a lil while being away from the marquis, the reader ends up pregnant but can the marquis still be alive? Like in an alternative universe where he somehow survives, cop reader stays away because she finds out about the marquis’ actual job and then she gets pregnant and has to tell him?

Ion know, I just feel like he’d be really wholesome/possessive while the reader is pregnant, which I wouldn’t mind reading 🤭

It had been six months since she’d had that night with Marquis, but her heart felt like it was still in pieces and would never be whole.

She’d given him her all and he’d given just as much of himself, only to be killed the following day.

Feeling a rush of nausea, she grabbed for the wall she had been walking by, stumbling a bit.

“Miss! Are you okay? Come, let me help you sit.” An older gentlemen said kindly as he led her to a nearby bench. “There you go, easy does it. Do you need some water, or possibly to call your husband?”

She opened her mouth to deny her having one, but decided against it, and shook her head. “ I am fine, thank you!”

Blatantly staring at her stomach now, he asked. “How far along are you?”

“6 months.” She answered him.

“Well congratulations on your future family.” The man said as he took his leave.

It took all she had in her not to burst into tears. Luckily the sound of her phone snapped her out of her near breakdown.

Happy to have a distraction, she answered her phone without caring who was calling. “Hello?”

There was a pause, and then the clearing of a throat. “I have missed you.”

Her world came crashing down on her. Unable to form a sentence, she gripped the phone so tight, she could hear the device crackle.

“Are you there beautiful? I hope you are not angry. I have had a very rough time since I last saw you…”

“You’re dead. This is a mean joke. Who is this? How dare you!” She screeched into the phone, enraged that someone had somehow imitated Vincent’s voice perfectly.

The man on the line chuckled, “you are so perfect. I knew you were the one for me. I’m sorry I have not been able to call you but I have been in a coma, and only woke a few hours ago. I cannot go into detail, but I must see you. I am not at my mansion for obvious reasons, so I am sending a car for you.”

“Wait a minute! I went to a funeral for you! It was national news after the chaos! You expect me to just get in some car with a stranger, six months pregnant?” She snapped.

“What was that last part you said?”

“Pregnant. Six months. Pregnant. Knocked up. Bun in the oven. With child. Eating for two. Expecting. Pregnant!”

There was several moments of silence. “The vehicle is a black and white Mercedes that should be pulling up to the curb now.”

Glancing over, she saw that there truly was a Mercedes. “You really expect me to get in that car?”

“I would never lose my patience with you and will tolerate any sort of tantrum you send my way, but I must insist you get in the car.” He stated patiently.

“No.”

The driver of the mercedes got out and walked towards her holding a tablet that he was apparently speaking to someone in. As he got closer she stood to her feet, ready to defend herself. “Do not try anything buddy. I might be pregnant, but I’ll still kick your ass.”

Coming to a stop, he turned the tablet to face her, where she was met with the face of her lost love.

Smirking in satisfaction, the Marquis looked pale and was not dressed in one of his gorgeous suits, but it was without a doubt him.

Forgetting her earlier reservations, she ran to the man and snatched the tablet, staring wide eyed at the man in front of her. Wracking her brain for what to say, there was so much to choose from she could only get out a high pitched squeak.

“Get in the car now baby. Bring your beautiful mother too.”

[hypnotisedfireflies]

What do you think would have happened in Prime verse if Tess had not been bitten and she ended up going with Joel and Ellie on the rest of their journey.

Would things have been different in KC, would she have seen the trap ahead of time?

In Jackson would she have been down with Joel giving Ellie to Tommy, would Joel have even been on that mental place to have to do that?

If they went to the university would Joel have still been hurt? If so how would Tess have handled David?

Last what would Tess have done at the hospital in Salt Lake?

Other Fic's have explored Tess living but I feel like your Tess is different and would love to know how she would handle it.

Hello, lovely! Thanks for getting my brain going!

In short, I think very little would have been the same. As the great Ian Malcolm says:

"A butterfly can flap its wings in Peking, and in Central Park you get rain instead of sunshine."

Another person - even Tess - would have changed the entire trajectory of their course. They wouldn't have gone through KC/Pittsburgh and they wouldn't have met Henry and Sam. Joel wouldn't have had the same crisis in Jackson with giving Ellie up. Ellie would not have encountered David. And not because Tess could have influenced or prevented such things, but simply by merit of her being there the entire journey would be different.

And Joel and Ellie would not have bonded the same way had Tess been there.

I love Tess with my full heart but I can't turn my mind to her being there for that journey. The Joel and Ellie relationship is the heart of TLOU and I don't want to mess around with that. With Tess present, Joel would never have had the opportunities to open himself up to Ellie. With Tess as buffer they may have advanced in their relationship somewhat, but it would never have become what it became.

I find the SLC question hard to answer because unless I wrote 100k of Tess bonding with Ellie and saw how it evolved, I can't be sure how she would have responded. 😂 Sorry, I know that sounds like a cop-out, but I know Tess wouldn't have gone around shooting everyone up the way Joel did, but that doesn't mean she would have let them kill Ellie, either. But given everything would have been different she probably would not have been in the same circumstances as Joel (waking up, Ellie already under threat) anyway. Joel runs hot and Tess runs cold, after all.

So the short answer is: I don't know. 😋

[butchgrayson]

3, 4, 12 and 24 for dick grayson our beloved

dick grayson our beloved <3 i am about to be so fucking annoying about him

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

Joke-ish answer everything from TT nightwing (and rebirth nightwing in general). I just ignore its existence tbh.

Real answer I had a lot of difficulty answering bc i loveeeeee dick's flaws i love it when he's a cunt i love it when he self isolates i love it when he is a hypocrite the tension between his bad traits and his love for people/his friends, his dedication to heroism his intellect all of it is what made me fall in love with his character <3 BUT THEN. i remembered cop dick grayson. who i have almost completely wiped from my mind bc i hate it so so so so bad. it just doens't make sense with him as a person, like whyyyyyy would he ever go and join a police force more corrupt than gothams?????? its so anathema to who he his/his character history that my blood boils whenever i reread nw96 or see that era mentioned in fandom spaces LMAO whatever. im not even mad. in my own personal dc universe that lives in my brain and the personal wiki i have on my laptop the bludhaven cop era was an extended undercover/infiltration strategy. dick's true career calling should be being a bartender/doing seasonal work <3

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

ACE ATTORNEY !! i have an extended dc ace attorney au that i will post about someday but even outside of that it would be soooo fun to see him as either a protag (esp given that the defence attorneys in aa have to do all of their own detective work) OR as a supporting character. i think he would fit right in with the main cast of the series too, especially trucy (fellow circus kids !!!) and apollo <3

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

Another one i had a difficult time w just because how can i pick there r so many. BUT i saw a post earlier that reminded me that i am a dick grayson occasional smoker truther. i understand why most people would NOT agree w this but its a little self-indulgent i fully admit. on the one hand like yes he is a high level athlete/why would he do anything that he knows have bad health impacts but i can say as a former (semi) high level athlete i think that is the demographic i have known that has the highest proportion of smokers LMAO i think he picks it up in the ntt era originally as a social smoking thing whenever the titans would party or whatever (another self indulgence is i think he picks up the habit from donna) and it eventually turns into a very rare (as in, goes through a 1.5 packs a year) stress management technique when shit with bruce/the family/the titans/a case gets bad. he's filled with a lot of guilt over it but this does not stop him.

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

See there are so few characters with the specific brand of neuroses/issues that dick has that i was stumped on BUT while it is very much not a one-to-one i draw soooooo many parallels between him and declan lynch from the raven cycle series. ESP DURING THE ERA WHERE BRUCE IS "DEAD". pov you are the eldest child of an emotionally unavailable man who has involved you with his underworld/vigilante dealings since you were far too young to be doing so and so you take up the burden of it and incorporate it so deeply into your sense of self that you don't know how to be a real person anymore. and when your father dies it is your job to look after your family and protect them even when theyre estranged from you and you are the inheritor of something that you must keep going even if it kills you to do so <3 i think this parallel also works especially well with declan&ronan compared to dick&jason (<- am drafting a post in my mind about this whole topic as i type all this btw)

tysm for sending this in it was v v fun to answer !!!

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