#maybe it's not that i personally deserve better than that but i feel like everyone deserves better than that

[dubiousculturalartifact]

Not infrequently when a famous creative person gets exposed as a bigot, abuser, etc, there's the inevitable comments of 'can we all finally admit their work sucked?'

Which leads to immediate backlash, claiming that anyone saying this is a smug, sanctimonious asshole, disingenuously shitting on the incredible creative output of [Person X] in order to falsely claim a moral high ground, or make themselves feel better, or make some grand statement about how moral purity and creative talent are inseparable....

And sure, “[Person X] is an dickhead, ergo their work must suck” doesn't add a lot to the conversation, maybe. But I suspect that pretty often what’s actually being said there is something a lot closer to “Yes, they were famous and beloved, but not everyone may have loved their work, and claiming otherwise is giving their legacy more than its due, at the exact time when they deserve less praise, not more. Their work had flaws (whether merely aesthetic, or ones that pointed towards the same attitudes that fuelled their real life behaviour) that I never felt safe talking about due to their fame & the fandom/cult of personality around them. I’m frustrated by how they were shielded from ANY criticism, no matter how small, prior to this. Allow me to vent that for a second.”.

When we put creatives on such a pedestal that people will send death threats based on someone criticizing them on like, their writing of a specific character, or their grammar, or something… Exactly how safe an environment do you think that creates, for anyone who might need to speak up against them, about something more serious?

[leona-hawthorne]

lorenzo berkshire: how a relationship would be with my favorite male manipulator <3

(@mattnott this came out of the chat we had the other day LMAO ily zoya)

on the surface, lorenzo berkshire is just that guy. he’s effortlessly charming, polite, intelligent, and the kind of person who could convince anyone he’s the perfect human being. he’s the type who walks into a room and immediately draws everyone in—not by being loud or flashy, but by knowing exactly how to make himself seem approachable, kind, and maybe even a little vulnerable. but all of it is just a mask.

enzo is a master manipulator. he knows exactly how to get what he wants, and he does it by making people think they’re in control. he doesn’t argue or beg; instead, he plants ideas like seeds in your mind. “if that’s what you think is best,” he’ll say with a soft smile, knowing full fucking well you’ll second-guess yourself. he makes you feel like every decision was yours, even though he’s been guiding you the whole time. and the worst part? you don’t even realize it until it’s too late.

emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping

enzo doesn’t argue outright, but he’s an expert at making you feel like everything is your fault. when you expresses your feelings or doubts about your relationship, he deflects and twists the narrative.

“you’re overthinking again, love. you always do this—it’s like you’re looking for reasons to fight.”

“after everything i’ve done for you, this is how you see me? it just doesn’t seem fair, babe.”

the constant emotional exhaustion of always questioning yourself and feeling like the villain slowly pushes you to the edge.

subtle isolation

enzo doesn’t tell you to stop seeing your friends or family straight up—that would be too obvious. instead, he plants seeds of doubt about them, turning you against the people who care about you.

“it’s just… don’t you think your friends don’t really understand you? they don’t see the real you like i do. they’re only here for a good time. they wouldn’t stick with you when things are hard, like i do.”

“your sister’s always been jealous of you. it’s kind of obvious when you think about it. in fact… i think i she was flirting with me at the lake trip last weekend…”

over time, you feel more and more alone, with enzo as the only person left in your corner—and even that’s suffocating.

his temper leaks through

enzo prides himself on being calm and composed, but even he can’t keep the mask on forever. when you push back—when you really challenge him—his anger surfaces.

“you think you’re better than me now? after all i’ve done just to make you happy? you should be grateful i’m still putting up with you. no one else would.”

“you don’t get to treat me like this. i deserve better than your constant doubts.”

while he doesn't resort to outright aggression, the quiet, cutting anger and emotional coldness are enough to make you feel small and utterly helpless against him.

hypercritical tendencies

at first, enzo is the type to shower you with compliments. but once he has you, the nitpicking starts. he frames his criticisms as “helping” you or “protecting” you, but they’re really about control. he wants to cut you down until his words are the only form of validation you trust; the only ones that matter.

“that dress is nice, but it’s not really your color, is it?”

“i just think you’d be happier if you didn’t spend so much time on things that don’t matter.”

it’s not that he truly thinks badly of you; it’s just his way of slowly implementing his control. the constant criticism erodes your self-esteem, making you wonder if you’re ever enough for him.

dismisses your autonomy

enzo frames his controlling nature as “taking care of you” or “looking out for you,” but it’s really about stripping away your agency.

he might make decisions for you without asking, like ordering for you at a restaurant or canceling your plans because he thinks you “needs rest.” you simply don’t get a say.

“i only did it because i know what’s best for you. you’d do the same for me if you cared as much as i do.”

over time, you realize you don’t have control over your own life anymore—and that terrifies you.

you start to feel like you’re losing your identity. the things you love—your hobbies, your friends, even your sense of self—have all been swallowed up by enzo’s world.

his fear of losing control turns ugly

when you start pulling away, enzo’s fear of losing you makes him tighten his grip. he might start tracking your whereabouts, showing up uninvited, or trying to manipulate you into staying.

“you’re not yourself lately, baby. i think you need me more than ever right now.”

“are you seriously leaving me after everything we’ve been through? i thought you were better than this. i thought you loved me—was it all a joke to you?”

his desperation exposes just how deeply insane, how utterly selfish he really is—and how dangerous it is to stay—but you still can’t help loving him.

the breaking point: seeing the mask slip

your breaking point comes when you finally see enzo for what he truly is. maybe it’s a moment of anger where his charm gives way to cold cruelty. maybe it’s realizing how isolated you’ve become or maybe it’s catching him in a lie.

“you know what? you’ll never find someone like me again. you’ll never find someone who loves you the way i do—or touches you the way i do.”

“go ahead and leave. but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else will put up with you.”

and suddenly, the illusion you’ve clung to—the one where enzo is perfect, where his love is worth the pain—is shattered.

enzo doesn’t beg you to stay. no, he’s far more subtle. he sets the stage so that if you even think about leaving, the world around you becomes a constant reminder of him. your friends adore him. “enzo’s perfect for you,” they say, oblivious to his carefully crafted facade, oblivious to the fact that he doesn’t even want them within 50 feet of you. your family loves him because he’s gone out of his way to charm them. “he’s such a gentleman,” your mom gushes after he brings her flowers for no reason at all.

and when you confront him? he doesn’t argue. he doesn’t yell. instead, he sighs, looking at you with those soft, sad eyes. “i just wish you’d trust me,” he says, and suddenly you’re the one apologizing.

and enzo’s love isn’t love—it’s obsession. he doesn’t just want to be with you; he wants to consume you. he integrates himself so deeply into your life that it feels impossible to untangle yourself from him.

he’ll listen to all your favorite songs and tell you how much he loves them too. “this one reminds me of you,” he’ll say, and suddenly, every melody feels like it belongs to him.

he’ll watch all your favorite shows, quote them back to you, and make inside jokes so that even your comfort series becomes a part of his web.

he’ll charm your friends and family until they’re all on his side. “you’re lucky to have him,” they’ll say when you confide in them. and if you ever leave? they’ll tell you you’re making one of the biggest mistakes of your life.

“i just don’t understand,” he’ll say if you call him out. “everything i’ve ever done was for you. because i love you.”

and here’s the thing about enzo: even when he’s truly, deeply in love, he’s still toxic. love doesn’t magically make him a better person—it just changes the way he manipulates you. instead of using his charm to pull you in, he’ll use his insecurities to keep you there. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he whispers, and it sounds more like a warning than a confession. almost like he’s saying he’d become worthless without you.

but love does soften him in some ways. his need for control isn’t about power anymore; it’s about fear. he’s terrified of losing you, so he holds on tighter. he’s still manipulative, still controlling, but now it’s because he genuinely believes he can’t live without you.

enzo’s love is messy and overwhelming. it’s the kind of love that makes you feel like you’re drowning, but at the same time, you can’t imagine living without it. and that’s the tragedy of lorenzo berkshire: no matter what he does, you can’t help but love him anyway. even when you see his true colors, you’re already too far gone.

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

navigation. masterlist. lorenzo berkshire masterlist.

[xo-edwinspaynes]

It's the first day of DBDA character appreciation week, which means that I will be making a very special post about a very special boy.

(This is going to get somewhat personal, so be forewarned. This is okay to reblog. I didn't go into specifics.)

An open letter to Edwin Payne -

As much as I love Charles and Niko, you have had a special place in my heart since the moment I turned on Dead Boy Detectives. I don't know why - maybe it was just a premonition of how much you would come to mean to me.

When I was in high school, I was horribly abused by a teacher in my school. The entire system worked to cover it up; after all, the district didn't want a scandal, and the other teachers didn't want a blemish on their good name. The rug-sweeping and the lack of justice hurt almost as much as the years of abuse. There's no feeling that small, that insignificant, to feel like experiences that left you changed and shattered don't matter.

By the time we got to your scene in the butcher shop, I already had fallen in love with your character ten times over. We're both obvious queerdos and I love you for it.

But when you started talking about the school covering up your death, and Charles's, and how nothing happened when you died, it struck a nerve. Because we didn't matter, in a voice so hurt and resigned, was something that resonated with every molecule in my body.

I'd thought the words a million times over. We didn't matter. Why didn't we matter? We deserved to matter!

It was the first time anyone had echoed that sentiment that I held close to my chest. And immediately I realized why I love you so much.

You and Charles work to get justice for others who didn't have it. I bet if you were real, and I were dead, you would work to get justice for me like no one has. Watching you work and solve cases, watching you make sure that everyone's trauma matters, it makes me feel like there's hope for me. Because there are good people like you out there, real people. People who would read to a dying boy after escaping literal Hell.

Edwin, I am completely and utterly gone for you. There are precious few characters as dear to me as you are, and without you, I know that the resentment that still sits inside me would have festered and burned. Your tenacity and your bravery astound me, and the way you escaped an undeserved fate in Hell is nothing short of beautiful. Your kindness after what you have seen and been through is astonishing, and the way that you altruistically help others and love selflessly feels like it's broken me apart and remade me into something better than I have been.

Thank you, Edwin. Thank you. Thank you. I love you more than I can say.

[pandorasfruit]

Spider/Aonung would do so good together, because I just know that there wouldn't be one person who would actually approve.

Tonowari and Ronal would frown with disappointment at their son for choosing to court a demon, an outsider, an offspring of the enemy. Tonowair is sighing as he continues introducing Aonung to local boys and girls (not particularly caring about what gender Aonung likes, just wanting it to be someone of their kind.)

Ronal includes his name in her prayers more frequently now. She asks Eywa to quide Aonung to the right person, and Eywa is probably tired of doing so, yet not being recognized for it.

Jake and Ney'tiri are also disappointed, Jake because he knows he's the one who should be keeping Spider on a tighter leash, and here the kid is, just doing whatever the fuck he wants instead.

Ney'tiri is judging both Spider and Aonung, Spider she doesn't have much of a reason to other than the obvious, but Aonung because she thinks there are just so many better choices.

Lo'ak and Tsireya would probably be fine with it up to a point where they can both pretend to be fine with it. Lo'ak definitely has issues with the relationship because he does not like Aonung (for obvious reasons) and also because now Spider is placed in a completely different light for him. Going from this dude-bro to hangout with, to a man who likes-likes other men and is in a relationship with one.

Tsireya doesn't want to admit that her mother and Ney'tiri are both right in hating the humans as a whole, because she has a reputation to uphold as peace keeper. She likes everyone and everyone likes her. She shouldn't judge Spider for being human, and she shouldn't judge Aonung for loving him. But she can't help but notice, along side Ney'tiri, Tonowari, Lo'ak and Ronal that, yes, there are better choices.

Kiri is not with it, not against it. She can't decide. She harbors some kind of mutant, unknown feeling for Spider, and knows Aonung is an asshole. She's shares the opinion with Lo'ak that Aonung doesn't deserve Spider, but she knows she shouldn't and doesn't have the right to judge either of them in wanting to be together.

Rotxo probably doesn't know what's going on, he's a little lost, and then when he does learn, he is still lost. He doesn't like humans and the shit they do, but he is mature enough to realize that there are always exceptions, and Spider is one of them. He is good friends with Aonung but also knows the guy's an asshole. He wishes both most of luck, but doesn't believe it will work out.

Norm feels icky about the whole thing. They're both so young and Spider is so small while Aonung is so tall. He doesn't like thinking about what will happen when they both want to take their relationship to the next step. For now, he'll allow most things happening, and will maybe even defend the relationship when time comes to it, but other than that he also doesn't believe it will work out for a longer period, and part of him even hopes that it doesn't.

Spider and Aonung feel like a feshly married couple on their honeymoon. They're taking walks by the beach, learning new things about each other, they're swimming in the ocean, they're suntanning, or they're watching movies, chatting during dinner, they're hanging out and really enjoying it. Aonung is braiding Spider's hair while whispering all kinds of dirty shit into his ear, he makes him bracelets and necklaces, catches the biggest fish for him etc. They're still only courting, but Aonung likes a fast pace, and everything about Spider is so enticing he can't hold back. He also has that weird thrill for getting caught, and it's not helping either of them. Spider is wearing all the jewelry he receives, cooking the fishes Aonung catches, he's the one you can hear shouting Aonung's name when he and Lo'ak start racing with their ilus, or are holding Who can get the biggest conch? contests.

They are swooning and touching, all while desperately trying to ignore the nasty glares everyone sends their way, either openly or by secret.

They're trying to stick together, because Lo'ak is right about Aonung; he is a screw up. And Ney'tiri is right about Spider; he is an outsider.

But at least they have each other. And for this short period of time where the beaches are quiet, and there is no imminent danger waiting to bounce on their backs, they're happy.

[ask-postcrash-curly]

hello, new voice here. you can call me fern…

i’ve been getting on track with everything that’s happened so far, and out of everything this is some of what i feel the need to tell

there’s something about the fact of misplacing your faith on the wrong people that gets to me really bad…

“…you know i believe in you. here. on earth. doesn’t matter.”

all of that, just to be hurt back in the worst way imaginable, and not only that, but also those around you

the disappointment

after all… the people that are closest to you are the hardest to see clear

he was attached by your hip for so many years that you couldn’t even tell that the mild bullshit he ever pulled on you was not okay, because they’re the smallest actions to excuse which you might’ve even never noticed. one grows accustomed to the feeling with enough repetition. that lash out he had at the party… that doesn’t look like something a real friend would do, and it doesn’t look like the first time he’s ever twisted your words that way either, talking about something you confided privately to him in front of other people too

he wanted to humiliate you

he wanted it to hurt

but somehow, some way, in that sick and twisted recess of my mind… i also understand him

i see myself reflected back when i look at him, but in the sense that makes me realize “that would be me if i was at my absolute worst” and it gives me this visceral feeling because our worst moments can make us monsters if we don't stop ourselves and take responsibility, which is what happened to jimmy as he became a monster of his own making through denial, and i can perfectly hear him asking: “just tell me that you hate me.”

but you won’t do it

you can’t

physically and mentally… even if you wanted

because you don’t hate him, it hurts to hate someone you thought of as a friend

but one could argue that disappointment hurts more, for all parties involved

and he knows that

…i get you curly. you tried, you really did

“we’re defined by our past, but not slaves to it.”

we have an innate need to see the best in people, so you love like a dog, i do too… but that’s not always a good thing

you just wanted to help the people who matter to you. you care about her, about him, about everyone

you have such a kind heart— so kind that it blinds you

and that kindness… it hurt her

maybe she won’t ever forgive you, she has the total right not to

nevertheless, it doesn’t justify what happened to you

she does not strike me as the kind of person to wish any bad on others for that matter

i hope you see that you’re worthy of deserving happiness despite it someday

i’ll be sharing songs in the meantime, i have plenty that remind me of you, captain ❤️‍🩹

…

He didn’t… No. He was upset. Lashing out. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. Or if he was, it was because he was hurt. He wouldn’t— No, no, no. I have to believe he wouldn’t want to hurt me.

But can I believe that after what he did when he made me take the pills? I couldn’t look away. I saw his eyes. He was glad it hurt. He was hurting, so he brought me down with him. I would never do that to my friend. I wouldn’t.

If that’s true, wouldn’t that mean he’s always had the potential to be better than he is? I should have— I didn’t get him there. And he’s said those words, you know? “Just tell me that you hate me.” Always makes me feel awful. Always acts like if I’m upset with him I must not care about him in the least. It’s easier not to start. Maybe I should have kept starting. Maybe that would have made it worse.

It’s only ever been me who could have helped him. If I had managed to help him when it mattered, she wouldn’t have needed my help. He could have been better. He was getting better, I really believed that, I really believe there was an option where I could have saved both and not neither, only I didn’t take it, I didn’t help him, and when Jimmy hurts everyone hurts.

When was the point of no return? It couldn’t have been too long ago. The point where it switched from help him to stop him. Kept clinging to the latter but never doing either. I could have stopped him. I should have seen it hidden in the upper right corner.

But maybe I did see it. When she told me, I believed her. I believed her. Hesitated for all of half a second before I believed it was true. Not believed, knew. Never doubted it. Never in question whether he would. I was shocked, wasn’t I? But I believed it without question. What kind of faith shatters that quickly? I had to have known!

I really thought he was getting better. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was a—

She shouldn’t have to take care of me when I didn’t take care of her. None of it is fair.

…

But you’re right. She’s not— she wouldn’t— she didn’t know what he did to me. She wouldn’t have let it happen. She’s a better person than that. God, what she must think of me… And to still take care of me for so long…

I’m sorry. I’m not… thinking very well. I don’t want to keep this up. The more I think about it, the more convoluted the memories get. Everything’s wrong. Please just play the song now.

…

It—it’s a good song. Thanks.

How is it that you all see me so clearly and still fucking sympathize?

[the-unexplained-council]

Following this, since Torbek one but Gricko and Frost are super close together, which one would y’all be interested in reading the most? Torbek gets the most options because he won!

Short summaries of options below!

A-Z Headcanons are headcanons that are based off of a word from the alphabet that surrounds the topic of fluff/what it would be like to date them. These are usually very long and I try to make them as detailed as possible!

Date In The Town (Gricko x Reader)

A oneshot where Gricko takes you on a date throughout the town that him and the Lecroux Crew have been entertaining in. He wants to impress you, really make sure you’re the one for him and his sweet daughter, Hootsie! Though, when the date continuously seems to go wrong despite his careful plannings, he starts to get down that he may have ruined his chance with you. You fell for him so much harder, he just doesn’t know yet. (Planned to be long, 5k+? FLUFF.)

Witchlight Butterflies (Torbek x Reader)

Torbek and you get lost in a field of flowers that neither of you have seen before. With the group only moments before, the both of you walked through a fairy circle and were warped away. While the both of you are getting to know each other on a much more personal level, you both seem to come to a better understanding of one another. The butterflies of the field seem to think Torbek is a butterfly with his vibrant Witchlight glow from his canisters, and maybe a few find their way in your stomach too. (Planned to be medium/short, 2k+? FLUFF. SPOILERS EP 40-43?)

I’m Sorry (Torbek x Reader)

Oh no, Torbek messed up again. He really, really tried this time. You were having such a bad day, he just wanted to do something nice for you. He tried to get you some flowers, all he wanted were those pretty flowers the color of your eyes. He didn’t mean to grabbed cursed flowers, watching as you slowly start to forget who you were. Now you didn’t know Torbek at all. He’s so sorry, he loves you and he wished he didn’t do that it never happened at all. (Planned to be medium length, 3k+? ANGST.)

Unfathomed (Torbek x Reader)

Torbek is increasingly down in the dumps, more than usual, and the entire group has noticed it. Yourself and Gricko and Hootsie try to make him a cake to cheer him up! He deserves some care from his friends! When Torbek finds out he can’t believe it, people care about him enough to try and cheer him up? As much as it helps, it’s only temporary. He’s sad because he knows deep down he can never land you as his partner, and seeing you everyday and not being able to hold your hand or lay down next to you at night is making him feel sick to his stomach. If only he knew how much you admired him. (Unsure length, we’ll see? HURT/COMFORT.)

Meathead (Frost x Reader)

“Meathead.” It was a silly little name you spewed during a drunken rant in a bar with Frost. Everyone was having a good time, and a select few had a bit too much to drink. Frost, being the most sober, was in charge of you, the most drunk. While he riddled you with lighthearted lecture about getting you sobered up, it fell from your lips. Now whenever the both of you are together and he starts his lighthearted lecturing you call him a meathead, and as much as he shows he hates the name.. he only want you to call him a meathead. (Unsure length, we’ll see? FLUFF.)

Have fun!!!

Just from curiosity, what OUAW character would the fandom want to see more fanfiction or fancontent for? I had Kremy on my list to do next but he’s pretty popular in the fandom, but Gideon is too just not with as much x reader fanfiction for him.

[pillowenvelopchair]

Absolutely fucking stupid that my schools suicide prevention protocol is to basically to put someone in house arrest until a professional can write and “prove” that theyre okay so that theyre sure that they can let a student back in. Yeah. Sure. Just force someone to be in the house where they are even MORE at danger when there are literal sharp objects makes it easier to do it

[guinevereslancelot]

not "i can do better" or even "i deserve better" per se, because i can't really believe that, but an inexplicable third reason i won't settle for a relationship where my level of care, effort, and sacrifice isn't reciprocated <3

[fvckednddistvrbed]

i ate a lot today, not as much as other days, but still im disappointed with myself and starting to feel sick. why cant i be good at restriction? god this makes me wanna sh so fucking bad

[windupaidoneus]

now some people may not like to hear it but even the worst people who exist are still people & there is no human being who has More right than others to decide whether others deserve to live or die (does not mean i personally condemn murder in self defense or anything of the sort or killing fascists or whatever i'm just saying as a baseline This Is How it Is) & this is why the death penalty is not a good thing no matter how good & trustworthy the people in any government might be. people on average also deserve the chance to learn to do better. & no, someone who's been forcefed propaganda their entire life will not let go of that deeply entrenched mindset so easily, it's not particularly unrealistic & it absolutely sucks to deal with but in the context of tangibly working toward world peace it's also not an issue to try & help such people both in material ways & in helping them learn better rather than cut them down or abandon them to a grim fate. all this to say that's why i don't think garlemald is written badly, as unpleasant as the experience might be. walks off the stage

[skrunksthatwunk]

hey real quick bc i haven't seen anyone really talk about it; fuck Hoarders. what a disgusting fucking show. like i know a lotta content boils down to "let's gawk at mentally ill or poor or whatever ppl" but this one specifically really peels my paint. it's sickening. let's spend an hour walking around someone's house and going "wow!! look how fucked this is!!! i can't believe you live like this (despite having done like 13 seasons of this)!!!! you really need to get your act together, buster!" and then interviewing the family to get sound bites demonstrating how much of an Unreasonable Burden the subject is and (without actually helping any of the mental health issues that may lead someone to hoard) roll their eyes at them when they are upset at someone taking and trashing/destroying their precious belongings (or are made to do it themselves). and then half the time in the where are they now segment it's like "yeah they relapsed lol idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯" like??? no shit dumbass.

i don't care how strange their homes or habits are. these people are deserving of compassion and real, honest help. they don't need people to marvel at how Kooky Wacky Bonkers™ they are, and they don't need people to hurt them just because they don't understand what they see in their possessions or are embarrassed by knowing them or whatever.

we don't need another voyeuristic savior-complex charade where the condition for The Most Half-Assed Help You've Ever Seen is being publicly humiliated and having to destroy things that mean a lot to you. what the fuck.

[nevertem]

"It really is hard to be liked as a person...when you don't know who you are, yourself...."

[snekdood]

i think ppl gotta get acquainted with the difference between systemic privilege and social privilege, which can overlap, but not always.

[beloveds-embrace]

Thinking about designationless reader...

Imagine how alone she must've been for all her life. It started since she was young, her parents pushing her to the corner of the home, away from the family, and naturally, her siblings would follow their parents' lead, pointedly ignoring her, and finding any excuse available to be out of her presence. She wouldn't understand them anyway, she can't tell the difference between noises nor could she even recognize scents. It just wouldn't work.

Reader thinks that maybe she could find someone, anyone in school, but kids are like sharks, except instead of smelling blood, they smell the lack of all scents on her. Most kids have a combination of their own and their family members' scents. Reader has nothing, so everyone continues the pattern, but now with more stares and jeers and hushed giggles. Reader knows that bullying is bad, but anything would be better than simply not existing to anyone. That's what the others say, at least, that she's nothing, nobody. Never to her face, though, just in the whispers shared between friends.

She eventually tries to find others like her through the wonders of the internet. There's maybe a handful more scattered in her country, but none are her age, and all have their own families who care about them. Was it just her who wasn't deserving of love, of connection? Reader reaches out to them, and they talk a little, but before long, through no one's fault, it falls through. She was bad at talking anyway, even if she doesn't have to worry about scents or sounds that aren't there, she never knew much about context or connotation. She never had the opportunity to learn about the intricacies in communication. Reader is back alone.

The military eventually scouts her, and it's the first time anyone has ever really looked at her. Sure, they look at her like a valuable tool, but a tool is better than nothing. Reader obviously joins, desperate for crumbs. She climbs the ranks, gets the job done. She is good at her job, so people respect her. She learns how to talk professionally, emails, texts, and so one, but no one talks to her on leave. No one invites her to the pub after a good mission. No one even talks to her in the mess. But people do talk to her when they have to, and that's enough. Maybe she even gets a callsign. Doe. After Jane Doe, the placeholder name for unknown individuals, and insult if anything.

Now there's the 141. They invite her to things. They talk to her. They touch her. Reader exists for them. She isn't just an unknown person stuck in the background and invisible to everyone else, and Reader doesn't know what to do. Her speech is awkward and overly professional, even in personal settings. How is she supposed to be friends with someone, multiple someones? How is she supposed to move? To act? To express? She doesn't know, but she really wants to learn. At least now she has good teachers.

ANON YOU GENIUSSSS okay but this? Perfect. AHHHH I ADORE THIS IDEA!! Esp the jane doe callsign omg yes

You weren’t used to being seen.

Growing up, you learned quickly how to make yourself small- how to exist quietly, without taking up space, without asking for too much. Because the few times you had asked- asked for a hug, asked to be let into the nest, asked why you felt so different- the answers had all been the same.

No.

Not now.

Not you.

It wasn’t that your parents didn’t love you. You were sure they did, in their own way. But love was hard to feel when your mother flinched at your touch like you were something disgusting, when your father sighed like he was tired every time you entered the room as if you were taking up space he was saving for his other children. When your siblings built their nests without you, curling into piles of warmth and safety while you sat outside the door, knees pulled to your chest and hands balled into fists to keep them from knocking, a cold ache burrowing itself in your chest.

You stopped knocking eventually.

You stopped trying.

You used to wonder if you’d done something wrong- if maybe you could fix yourself and everything would go back to normal. But it wasn’t something you could fix. It was just… you.

Scentless.

Designationless.

Invisible.

School had been worse, perhaps the worst. At least your family had pretended not to notice how different you were. The other kids didn’t bother pretending. They stared openly, whispered behind your back, laughed when you walked by. You’d caught bits and pieces of what they said- weird, wrong, broken, as if they hoped by having you hear their words, they’d convince you to leave at last.

You’d started keeping your head down after that, slipping through the halls like a shadow. No one talked to you unless they had to, and even then they either did it with a mocking, jeering tone that echoes in your nightmares or with a meek tone; as if your lack of everything is contagious. No one sat next to you at lunch, either. When partners were assigned, you always ended up working alone per your teachers’ instructions.

It was easier that way.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

By the time you joined the military, you’d gotten good at being alone. You didn’t need friends. Didn’t need packmates. You had work, and work didn’t care if you were quiet or awkward or too stiff to laugh at the right jokes. Work didn’t care if you flinched when people got too close or froze when someone raised their voice. Work demanded to be done, and you had nothing and no one to stop you from that.

But the military also has the same teens who used to bully you so consistently. Rookies all to ready and happy to lord over you. It’s how you get your despised callsign, Doe. Jane Doe. A cruel mockery, comedy wherein you are the joke that has the world laughing.

Still, you wear it. It’s still an acknowledgment and that will always be better than never being seen. You flit from team to team, unit to unit, always an observer from afar, watching everyone around you speak a language you can’t.

But the 141 was different, when you eventually end up working for them.

They cared.

They cared in ways you weren’t ready for.

Soap was relentless, dragging you into conversations even when you barely knew what to say. He filled the silences like it didn’t bother him, kept talking for the both of you, lounging against you unbothered, until you started talking back. Gaz was gentlest, steadier. He never pushed, just lingered close enough to remind you he was there, waiting, whenever you were ready. Quiet, silent acceptance you’d never been given before, and you were yet far too afraid to so easily cling to it.

And the Alphas- Price and Ghost- were worse.

Price had a way of looking at you that made your chest ache, like he saw you, really saw you, and didn’t mind what he found. Scentless, with no designation and all. Ghost was quieter, sharper, but his eyes tracked you everywhere, presence wrapping around you like he was staking a claim you didn’t understand, like he was teying to etch every part of you behind his eyelids.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

They didn’t give you space. They sat next to you at meals, tugged you along when they went out for drinks, called you over during breaks like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it felt natural- until it didn’t, because sometimes you still felt like an outsider.

Like you didn’t belong.

You tried to hide it, but they saw through you. They always did, and they never shied away.

When you started avoiding the mess hall, it was Gaz who caught you, shoving a plate of food into your hands and dragging you to sit with him like it wasn’t a big deal. When you hung back during missions, letting the others fall into their pack dynamics without you, Soap was the one who looped an arm around your shoulders and pulled.

And when you flinched, once, at the sharp sound of someone’s voice echoing down the hall- when you tensed so hard it made your fingers tremble- it was Price who closed the distance, standing in front of you like a wall and letting Ghost linger at your back. Neither of them said a word.

They didn’t have to.

You weren’t used to being protected. You weren’t used to belonging.

But they made it hard not to.

[strawberry-miiiiiiiiiiiilk]

sitting in my room for a half hour thinking about how if we lived in a better world Ada Wong would be the Ilsa Faust of Resident Evil (primarily in how she's introduced in Rogue Nation), with a dynamic to leon not unlike Fujiko Mine's and Lupin's in which they are both extremely competent and in situations in which they may have to work against and occasionally with each other on a mission, but ultimately are forced to stay apart and while they may be apart and even have different love interests from each other, ultimately still care deeply for one another. They are compelled to go after each other in part because it's so difficult and they are so often in circumstances in which they can't be with each other. The thrill of the chase and all that.

Ada being only tangentially related to the other character's stories because the world is simply larger than them and she has her own concerns and problems to deal with, and to have that be given any care or weight in a story, let alone focus. That she can be cunning and even manipulative but because she needs to and will still choose not to when the chips are down because she is genuinely caring--which I know none of that is new ground for her but I wish it was done in a more interesting way and *without leon at all*. She chooses to show mercy in a key point not because she's in love with that other character.

And also that she has more personality. I dig the subdued nature of her in 4r and her subtle sarcasm but it's just crumbs. I want her to be silly on occasion and say dumb jokes because she's alone like in 2r. I want her to shed a bit of that seriousness when she's on the clock because she's confident in herself as a professional and again has no one to put up a façade to.

It's honestly kinda embarrassing reading this back as I realize most of what I'm writing is not only already present in the games but incredibly tropey in and of itself, and wouldn't improve the character much. Dear god I think too much of my view of the character has been marred by shallow fanworks depicting her. I think if anything it's a sign that:

I'm a shit writer and need to do way more than watch movies and gesture vaguely at them to come up w a decent story or character (that being said as much as I prefer Fallout as a film, I stand by my earlier statement of Ilsa Faust being the ideal spy woman as she's depicted in Rogue Nation as she has a distinct set of goals and needs that are complex and developed largely tangentially to the protagonist's, at least initially).

It's going to take a completely new approach to her character to get something remotely interesting and that takes advantage of her potential.

For as mired in tropes as she and every other character and story in Resident Evil is, Ada could be far more memorable and enjoyable if only there was more care and effort to giver at least some interests and goals (perhaps even...characterization) on her own other than being a sexy love interest and potentially traitorous (as so many femme fatales already are).

[arotheosis]

Thinking so deeply about Evan basically going "i wanted to live in a magical treehouse with the three of you forever" and the way it made me feel the exact same way as I did when I heard the "everyone will find someone that matters more to them than you" quote out of context from Fantasy High (i still havent even seen it i really need to). It speaks so deeply to me as an aroace person in a way that i cant fully explain. I'm never going to have a family in the way that is expected, and to me it feels so incredibly likely that everyone I know and love will have someone else to go back to, some other better, realer, relationships to fulfill. Having those childish dreams in your highschool years where you're so sure that all of your friends are going to be by your side forever, and that they're always going to be the same people with the same interests (like how Evan placed them all into neat distinct categories of sports and shadows and sparkles and pink) because you're so scared that everything is changing and before you know its going to be gone. And you know that once that's gone for you, you might never find anything like it again, because you're fundamentally different, maybe even fundamentally broken, and maybe that's okay because your friends deserve something you can't really give them.