#that being said there were a lot of cute moments and well written scenes like before jon was born discussing the complexities and such.
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
Jon Kent is so cute! Such a good boy...
I do love Jon Kent, especially in the Supersons era. Modern Jon is a little lackluster to me--he is too much like Clark. And. I am primarily a Clark fan, and it sucks to be trying to read about his son and to just be like 'i wish clark was here actually'. I WANT to like Jon desperately but post the age-up it's just not felt good to read stories about him.
#shitpost#i wish more was done with christopher kent--I think he has a much better backstory.#I also prefer the adoption narrative vs a bio kid narrative#i feel like if superman and lois were going to have a kid it should be a test tube baby if not adopted.#idk this is something i get a lot in star wars too i just get so annoyed when cross-species children is assumed to be possible#i prefer it not to be--and for that to be part of the narrative#i like how mass effect handles this actually#where like asari can have children with other species but the children are always asari and other pairings/races either have to adopt#or just work with that etc idk.#christopher kent was so much more appealing to me with that too just because like#superman who was VERY NOTABLY adopted by his absolutely WONDERFUL parents also carrying on a legacy of adoption is so appealing to me#i always wanted to adopt kids myself so its a very important idea to me#its something i will never be able to do largely for monetary reasons and i have accepted that but like#i am asexual. adoption is a much more appealing narrative to me in general because it is the only one i can entertain as possible#that being said there were a lot of cute moments and well written scenes like before jon was born discussing the complexities and such.#but still#anon
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey! i love your stuff and think its pretty cool
just wondering if i could get a lucifer fic where the reader is like, adams sister? (lets ignore the lore for a sec) and shes like him but toned down a tad and less straight up bad. and they kinda date in heaven a bit before he falls and then shes sad and ends up falling aswell eventually and he gets all blushy flustered when he sees her again in charlies hotel and charlies just really confused
also maybe a quick flash to him mocking adam abt how he not only stole both his wives but also his sister
sorry if this is written badly i never send requests :>
this is actually rlly cute wtf
anyway, yes ofc i can write it for you, here you go!!
Warnings: Fem!Reader, Sexual References (No Smut)
“Mr. Took-Yo-Sis!”
Lucifer x Adam’s Sister!Reader
Lucifer had his fair share of significant others in his life, but there was only one that he truly loved, Y/N.
They had a relationship during his time in Heaven, which was eventually cut short as he fell not long after.
Y/N’s brother, Adam, didn’t like Lucifer, in the slightest. Lucifer had been with two of Adam’s wives, and he was not happy about that.
Unbeknownst to Lucifer, his beloved, had fallen not long after he did. But that was about to change.
Charlie, your first friend in Hell, was getting her rehabilitation hotel set up for her fathers arrival, various decor was hung, and (burnt) cookies were baked.
Charlie stood next to the door before taking a deep breath, “Okay everyone.” She said, getting ready to open the door, “It’s showtime!”
“Charlie!” A man’s voice says, you couldn’t see him, but his voice rings a bell.
“Hey da-” The blonde man runs up to his daughter, and squeezes her tightly, you finally got a good look at his face and… holy shit, it’s Lucifer.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you!” He exclaimed in a babyish tone, yep, Lucifer. “It’s uh, good to see you too, dad!”
Luci let’s go of his daughter after a moment, Charlie steps to the side, presenting to her father “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” She says, as confetti pops out of two of Pentious’ non working canons.
“Wait…” Lucifer murmurs, before his eyes widen.
“Y/N?!”
You grin, ‘Fuck yes, he remembers me!’ You think to yourself.
“Hi again, Luci.” You say, a wide smile present on your face, as you approach him.
You both smile at eachother, before some incoherent, awkward mumbles are exchanged, ‘Shit, I did not think this through.’ You thought. Then both just settle on giving eachother an awkward but friendly hug.
“Uh… Dad?” Charlie said, focusing both of your attentions to her, “You know eachother?”
“Oh, me and dear Y/N here go way back, we used to fling around if ya know what I mean!” Luci said, pointing finger guns at his daughter awkwardly, as she gave an awkward yet also disturbed smile, as your face flushes a bright red.
Vaggie steps forward. “Wait. Y/N? Like the Adam’s sister Y/N?” She asks, eyeing you in shock, “Heh. Yeah. A lot has happened since I fell.” You say bashfully.
Everyone kinda stares for a moment, sort of in shock, they had no idea you had a relationship, let alone you fell from Heaven, let alone you were Adam’s sister.
“So uh…” Lucifer starts awkwardly. “Who’s up for pancakes?”
Bonus Scene -
“So this is what you’ve been up to since Eden? Gotta say, you’ve let yourself go.” Lucifer jokes, as Adam attempted to toss him around. “You judging me? You’re the most hated being in all of creation!” Adam says, flying after him.
“Well you’re first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer her.” He said, putting a ‘V’ to his lips with his fingers. “Or the second.” He spoke, continuing to fly. “Or Hell, even your sister!” He said laughing, thrusting his hips back and forth, referring to what they’ve done in bed. “Bicka-chow-cho!”
“I will fucking end you!” You heard your brother scream to your (ex)boyfriend.
#hazbin hotel#x reader#mio’s writing ! ☆#fanfiction#x y/n#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#x you#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x y/n#lucifer x you#lucifer magne#hazbin lucifer#lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar
419 notes
·
View notes
Text
I asked for fic recs so it only makes sense that I provide some.
The Invisible Stan by The Last Speecher (HeidiMelone)
Simple, short, but elegant. You know how hanahaki disease is a trope? I feel like this should be a trope, but idk what you'd call it - Ninny disease sounds bad, but like it's clearly based off of Ninny from the Moomins. Anyway, great fic <3
An Outreached Hand by WDW
Ghost trick au! Love a good ghost trick au! I reread this recently and it still holds up so well, still so good even if unfinished. Haven't played ghost trick since, some of the twists make a hair more sense - especially the twist in the last chapter posted and being like 'OH IT'S *THE* GHOST TRICK'. Shoutout to undead creepiness and cute kitties :3
Retrograde by scrawling_stardumb
Kissing this one on the mouth. Only one chapter and unfinished, but it's a long chapter and really makes you go 'whoa'. It's interesting because the summary *technically* gives you more info than the chapter itself, but it's that kind of dramatic irony that fits the writing so well. A good solid McGucket POV too, which there really isn't enough of. Tbh, it stands okay almost as a one shot? I wish this became a whole popular au like all the others, bc it kicks ass as a concept.
Finding the Right Frequency by impish_nature
A pretty cute one! Ford trying to figure out how to deal with Bill, and Stan having found a stable job, and someow their two worlds intersect. Cute moments between the two, and some good Stans getting to reconnect.
Things You Can't Take Back by thesnadger
Classic by the Snadger! I always appreciate people who take Stan's memory less and make it more complicated, or at least have there be aftershocks to have your whole life erased :D So well written.
like they were a perfect fit by hapful
Stanford Pines and the photo he never looses. A beautiful story about Ford throughout the ages and his opnions on family, specifically Stan.
putting the dog to sleep by parsnipit
Old Yeller is such a sad story, and also some of this made me think of Mice and Men, and ugh just Stan and Ford and beign willing to kill something you love - sometimes because you love it - and it's such a perfect analogy to them I could die.
none of those phds is an md, you dumb idiot by untrustworthyglitch
I always love a fic that acknowledges language barriers. It reminds me of a really old fic where I did something similar, but like, being away from Earth would lead to you forgetting a lot of things, including language.
Too Late, Too Soon, Not Enough by IncomingAlbatross
Ah, gotta love a good fic that shows the missing scene of Ford and Stan switching places. Who came up with the idea? Who needed to be convinced? What swears do they get to use while off camera? Stan I love you so much, and Ford I lov eyou for beig nso complicated.
Raising Stakes by MaryPSue
Mwah! A Classic if I've ever seen one! While I'm partial to werewolf!Stan, Vampire!Stan does have so much potential and MaryPSue puts it to use so well! A great look into what Gravity Falls was like back in taht time period, and I love when people utilize Susan in fics that take place pre-portal <3 Also, Carla! I miss you so much Carla <3 It's drama, it's action, it's everything!
Lost and Found by PengyChan
Tate & Fiddleford have a lot of untapped potential, and while I think going the angst route makes a lot of sense, this one is almost more fluff and catharsis, I guess? I love it, near and dear to me.
Off-Season by anistarrose
Time Travel fic, but not a timestuck au? More likely than you think! A cute oneshot with particular focus on Stan, Mabel, and Dipper. Just a fluffy little thing with a couple strangers helping Stan out through a difficult winter.
Persist and Dwell by fencesit
A bit of Soos's trust in Grunkle Stan, and a mystery that isn't so much mystery as it is simply just not explicitly said. One of the final scenes has still stuck with me, and this is defo a concept I'd love to see explored more.
flee from your ghosts (burn your house down) by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup
While typically OTGW x Gravity Falls crossovers are, like, Pinescone, I'm partial to this version where Wirt is their dad. There'a few details that didn' sit well with me, but over all so incredible and well written. Some of the metaphors are just so evocative I could eat them. The descriptions are to die for. And I love the depiction of a dad struggling to get his kids to open up to him that feels like it's part dads struggle with teens and part those pines twins just won't tell the truth.
If you have any Gravity Falls fic recs, feel free to comment them!
#browniefox speaks#gravity falls#fic recs#fic rec#normally i would shamelessly add my own fics#but most of them are too old to show around too much lol#and my timestuck au is still pretty short
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
i know — van palmer.
summary: you can't remember a life before van, but there was one. there must've been one. it feels ridiculous to think about. you'd rather think about her, rather think about this— two moments then, and two moments now (and so, so many to come).
notes: heyyy i know i said i would post this like a month ago, i fully forgot!! if there was like one person waiting i'm sorry and i love you sm <3 also this ignores the plot entirely and i wanna make that very clear just in case!! it's like a nothing happened and we're all okay au! anyway here's to my loser girl and to whoever also finds themselves staring at the wall in silence thinking about her :)
・。.・゜✧・. ────
THEN.
"You're hogging the blanket," Jackie mutters over a mouthful of popcorn, purple polished nails tugging at the soft fabric.
She's right— you are. "I'm not," you say, and bring your legs close to your chest partly so they can offer some kind of comfort, but mostly so they're not touching the unknown dangers of the floor anymore.
The TV flashes red and Jackie's living room is bathed in it, along with all your faces.
Shauna snorts at a man getting brutally and very unrealistically decapitated on the screen and pulls her own blanket closer to her best friend before she even has to ask. They do that a lot; talk without words. Any other time you would've noticed, thought that's cute and smiled to yourself, but right now you're too terrified.
The movie is bad. Or, that's what you have to keep reminding yourself of. It's lazy in a way that's bordering on comical and needlessly violent in a way that proves that it was written by a man with interesting fantasies. You shouldn't be scared, but you are.
Another death earns you a few minutes of quiet, though you know the build up to the next one will be worse. The characters cry and fret over the dead body of their friend but the killer is nowhere to be seen, disappearing conveniently into the night. You're granted a scene of daylight but the sun comes and goes, and then the screen turns to dark violets and blues again and you're tensing up in your seat.
It's fine, at first— the pretty blonde girl is yielding a kitchen knife and walking around while her muscled boyfriend boards up the windows of the big house. Lottie shifts where she's sitting on the floor next to Laura Lee's legs and whispers about why they would lock themselves in instead of taking their chances outside, which is 'obviously the smartest thing to do'. You don't have time to process what she's saying because suddenly an ax is clawing its way through one of the windows and the characters are screaming and, well, so are you.
"Fuck!" You curse, jumping and landing yourself halfway into Van's lap, the softness of her thighs under your own, your back against her chest.
Van blinks, more startled by your reaction than the scene itself, her hands coming up to steady you and then immediately dropping back down a second after they brush over the cotton of your shirt. She lets out a shaky breath and does not think about how good your weight feels on top of her, because that would be a bad thought, a questionable thought. And it should not have been the first one to pop into her mind. Definitely not. That would be embarrassing. That would be bad.
You cover your eyes with one hand as the sounds of screaming come to a crescendo and hold one of her hands tightly with the other, mumbling sorry, sorry, sorry as if you're doing something wrong. As if you don't know that, even if you were, Van is incapable of being mad at you. Famously so. Everybody knows.
She looks around the room to the rest of the girls. No one is staring, too busy chewing popcorn and wrinkling their noses at the more gruesome special effects. Van turns her head back to you. A million thoughts rush in, overwhelming and unforgiving. Something about the soft tint of chapstick on your lips, the curve of your nose, the shape of your fingers. Things she's noticed before -Van is often greedy of all your details-, but not in this way, never from this close. She can smell your shampoo from here. Somewhere in the back of her mind, over the scent of honey and strawberries, she wonders if she's going insane.
Your body noticeably relaxes as the violence dissipates, your grasp on her hand loosening slightly. When you uncover your eyes, the final girl is clawing her way through the woods. You're unsure of how she got out of the house, but too comforted by the thought of the movie finally coming to an end to care.
Van is scared to say anything, scared to move— if she does, you might push yourself off of her, ignore her for the rest of the night because you're embarrassed. The thought is ridiculous. You'd never ignore her, you're not that kind of person, but it's what she would do. Except she'd probably never be in this position in the first place, because she'd never be brave enough to throw herself on your lap, even if she was as scared as you were. And that's just it anyway, it's not like you chose to do this. You didn't pick her. You would've found the same comfort in anyone's arms. Right? Van feels you shift closer, just slightly, like you're unaware of it. Right?
Her forehead falls on your shoulder as she thinks herself sick.
"It's scary, right?" You whisper, confusing her crisis for fear. Your fingers wrap around her bicep, soft and absentminded when they brush up and down her skin, trying to make her feel better.
Van feels her stomach flip, her hands twitch. In another world, she would wrap her arms around your waist and press her lips to your ear, mumble something stupid like if you say so, baby just to annoy you. Here, though, all she does is nod her head. She whispers back, "Yeah, it is."
She looks up at the screen, tries to be scared, to be invested. You relax further into her, personal and comfortable as if there's no one in the room but the two of you. Van blinks. She can't give you the name of the girl on the screen. A minute passes and your back straightens suddenly, but you don't rush to slide off her lap. You do it carefully, not because you want to but because you're worried about making her uncomfortable. Van wants to pull you back but she's never faced anything as daunting. She comforts herself with the thought that one day she will, a hungry attempt at manifesting or breaking a mental wishbone or something. For now, she follows you with her eyes and feels her anxiety melt away when you notice her staring and give her a smile. The movie's not yet over. She looks back. Who's the bad guy again?
─────✧・゚: *✧・
NOW.
Van likes to pretend that she's a better cook than she is. Someone else might find it funny, annoying even, but you can't find it anything but cute. You love telling her that you've run out of food and watch her scoff and puff up her chest.
"I'll make you something out of nothing," she'll say. Then she'll open the fridge and bend at the waist, stare at said nothing for a solid two minutes before resurfacing and declaring that she's craving pizza from the place down the street, anyway, so there's no point in cooking.
At the grocery store the next day, you make sure to buy the essentials for the one pasta recipe that she does actually know how to make. Van likes to feel useful. And you like to indulge her every need, maybe a little too much.
You pick the sweetest looking tomatoes for the sauce, no real expertise behind your method— you're not exactly an amazing chef, either, but the two of you do just fine. Someone calls your name in the middle of bagging the last tomato and you turn to meet a face you had almost forgotten about.
"Katie Lopez?" Van asks again, staring at the folded piece of paper with the almost-stranger's number that you'd gotten without asking (a friendly gesture, you're pretty sure) after a slightly lengthy conversation that carried on even after your multiple anyway, I should probably get going's.
You're telling Van about the encounter while washing the tomatoes in the sink, sleeves rolled up. Your cheeks are warm with kisses like they always are when you make it back to her, as if she wants to reward you for it. You've been hers for so long, and she's still amazed at the fact that you come home to her. "Yes," you repeat. "Why is that so shocking?"
"It's not," she says, flicking the paper where it sits on the counter, kinder than her original need to ball it up or light it on fire or something even more dramatic. She moves to open the cabinet and starts putting away the canned goods you've brought. "I just didn't know you guys were close."
"We're not. She was just being polite."
Van hums. For a moment you think she'll let it go, but of course she won't. She doesn't like the thought of someone flirting with you when she's not there and she especially doesn't like the thought of that someone being Katie fucking Lopez, who's most memorable for fingering girls in the bathroom for most of your shared high school experience.
Van clears her throat and the cabinet closes with a thud louder than she intended, definitely not because she was caught up picturing you under Katie's gaze. She means to sound casual, but she's not trying very hard when she asks, "She ever try to get with you?"
You spare her a single glance, as if to check that she's serious. Of course she is. "What, in high school?" You shake your head, chuckling like the idea is funny. "No. She was more into the cheerleader type."
Van knows that you're right. Still, she squints her eyes at you, ginger hair leaning to one side when she tilts her head. "Is that a hint of resentment that I'm hearing?"
You've gotten good at knowing how to handle her jealousy. It's only fair, considering that she's gotten good at handling yours. Neither are ever that serious. "I was making a neutral observation."
You know she's creeping closer before you feel it. You know her too well. "Yeah?" She mutters, her hands on your hips as she presses herself to your back. Her nose is familiarly cold where it brushes against your neck.
You dry your hands and lean back on instinct, and she doesn't flinch at the added feeling of your weight. Van can be a lot like a brick wall, but you don't usually tell her that, unless you're feeling extra sweet and want her to grin like a cocky little shit for the rest of the day. "You were into that type, too."
Van scoffs, a soft gust of air on your neck. "I was into you," she says.
You hum, purely fucking with her. "Maybe."
"May— what the fuck are you talking about?" She pulls away just enough to prove that she's actually offended. And she is, because the idea is ludicrous and yeah, she's taking it personally. You can question Van about anything you want, except for the fact that she's been in love with you for more than half of her life. "When did you ever see me looking at cheerleaders?" She asks.
You and Van work for a lot of reasons. You work because you're different where it matters, enough to balance each other out, and you work because you're the same in everything else. You might've been just teasing her at first, but now the thought does that stupid thing where it starts to linger and -just like she had thought about you and Katie- you can almost picture it in your head, a younger Van standing on the soccer field, her eyes trailing over a girl's short uniform skirt. You roll your eyes, annoyed mostly at yourself. "Oh, don't act like you wouldn't have loved for them to shout your stupid name."
Van chuckles. She can read your train of thought like a book. She knows you too well. "Stupid name, huh? You're cute when you're jealous." And a little mean, too, but in a way that makes her weak in the knees. She won't be telling you that part. You already know, anyway.
You pull the hands that are wrapped around your waist away from you. Van lets you— she wants to see where this is going. "Not jealous," you mutter.
"No?" She teases, half-heartedly disappointed when you don't turn around to let her kiss you.
You look at her over your shoulder and then make eye contact with the piece of paper on the counter, recalling the words of your old classmate. Call me whenever. We should totally hang out. You're too old to be telling people you should 'totally hang out', but Katie Lopez hasn't changed much from the last time you saw her. You hold back the urge to wrinkle your nose at the memory of that same teenager-trying-to-be-cool smirk that she gave you throughout the whole interaction and hum thoughtfully, like you've been tempted. "Maybe I will call her—" you take one step towards the counter in a half assed attempt to reach for the paper but Van is unusually quick as she strides forward and takes it in her hands, tongue poking into the inside of her cheek as she rips it in two. "Van!" You gasp.
"What? Don't tell me you were actually gonna use it," she pouts. "You're breaking my heart, baby."
You try to take the two pieces away from her and all you earn is her breaking it in four, holding it above your head. You're laughing as you slap her shoulder. "God, you're so stupid."
Van raises her eyebrows, mismatched numbers wrinkled in her hand. She drops them on the counter in favor of cupping your face, pressing a contained short peck to your lips. Don't feel bad, she won't hold back for long. "Stupid like my name?"
"I love your name," you shake your head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I love it. Just as long as it's mine to say."
It is yours, but you know that already.
─────✧・゚: *✧・
THEN.
Van's room smells like the incense you got her. You wonder if she used it just to appease you because she knew you were coming, but it's a silly thought. Van likes you. You know this now. She takes everything you give her (your time, your smiles, your kisses) like it's a precious gift, so you can't imagine that she would neglect an actual gift.
Your grandmother said you should light the incense before a game, to bring you good luck and calm your nerves, and you're not ashamed to admit that you bought Van her own pack the very next day. Everything makes you think about her lately, especially this kind of thing. You're not even sure that the incense works, but why wouldn't you share it with her? She deserves all of it— good luck, a stomach free of nerves, at the very least a nice lingering scent if your grandma's beliefs turn out to be a myth. But you hope they don't.
Your girlfriend is anxious more often than you are, but never really about a game. Van knows that she's good at soccer. She's nervous about other things. Keeping her side of the house clean, being able to afford Sinéad O'Connor tickets, what her mom's mood will be like tomorrow, English assignments but only because she thinks the professor is the coolest guy alive and she wants to impress him even if she won't admit it. And lately, there's another thing. She worries about whether you'll look at her one day and realize that you're too good for her.
You know about some of her anxieties, but clearly not all of them. She can picture your reaction if she were to share the last one with you, how your face would scrunch up and you'd look at her with eyes so loving and so sad. She can almost hear you ask, soft and patient, why would you think that? And she wouldn't know what to say. There's comfort in the fact that the worry is there, but it's not constant. Van only worries about that when you're gone. When you're in front of her, or sitting next to her in class, or talking to her on the phone, it's hard to imagine that you'll ever stop liking her. She takes in your smile, your laughter, your sparkling eyes and she can't think about anything else. You make all of it go away. If you asked her, she would tell you that she thinks the incense works, but only because it came from you.
She can smell it faintly from where she is now, but there are a hundred other things overwhelming her more— the feeling of your legs on either side of her, the sound of your bracelets clinking together when you move your arms to rest them next to her head and cage her in, the sight of you leaning in to kiss her. It's easy to say, she's only been dating you for three months, but Van is sure that she will never get tired of this.
She hums against your lips, something too close to a moan. Her cheeks are red when you pull away, and you're not sure if it was the sound she made or the regretful, kind of embarrassing thing she has to tell you that gave her that reaction. "My mom will be home in, like, five minutes," she says, raspy and breathy.
Her voice distracts you. Your lips are tingling. "Okay," you say, nodding your head even though it takes you another three seconds to actually process what she said.
This is where you sit up, break apart. Neither of you move.
You smile and lean back down to kiss her again, stomach fluttering from the sound of her giggling as you tilt your head back. How are you supposed to stop when she's so fucking— so cute, so handsome, so in love with you. You've never felt so secure of another person's feelings for you before, but it's impossible to doubt Van. She makes you confident, makes sure that you know at all times. Might as well be saying I love you, I love you, I love you between each kiss that she pulls you back into.
It takes everything in you to break away from her, but you have to. "Fuck, okay. I gotta go," you mutter. You have to. You'll see her tomorrow. It should be embarrassing how greedy she makes you.
She watches as you sit up on her lap, your skirt bunched up over the crotch of her jeans. You must notice her looking, because you're laughing like you can read her mind when she huffs and covers her face with her arms, her lips pursed as she suppresses an even more embarrassing sound than the one she made before.
"I'll see you tomorrow," you insist, like saying it outloud will make leaving easier. You stand up and brush your hands over your hair, flattening the flyaways. Then you grab your backpack from the floor (don't think about the pretty pin she got you a few days ago, because it'll make you want to kiss her again) and walk over to her window.
You could take your chances with the front door, but you don't want to. Van was afraid that her neighbors would see you and innocently mention it to her mom, say something like oh, I saw that Vanessa's friend came by the other day. Van wishes it could be left at that, but her mom is rarely that simple. She looked so worried as she told you about it, so ashamed. You kissed her cheek and promised yourself you'd get good at climbing.
She comes closer as you climb to the other side, getting your footing on the familiar edge of the wall, and she hisses when you let go of the window railing to reach over and cup her face. You don't have to pull for her to bend down and let you kiss her, your thumbs brushing over her cheeks.
"Please don't fall," she's saying as you make your way down.
You look up at her and smile, and Van thinks you're so pretty that she misses the mischievousness behind it. "Have a little faith in me— oh, fuck!"
Van flinches, bumping her head on the window with how quick she moves to look down at you. The sound of your laughter makes her realize your hands never left their safe grip. Her shoulders relax. "Oh my God, fuck you," she scoffs, though she's too relieved for it to have any real bite.
"What were you even gonna do?" You ask, still giggling.
She shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know, fucking— grab you or something."
"Your arms are too short to reach me from up there."
"I take offense to that."
"Well, I'm sorry," you sigh, tilting your head. "Doesn't make it any less true."
"I better not hear you asking for my short arms to carry you after practice tomorrow," Van huffs, said arms now crossed over her chest.
You look up at her in disbelief, raising your eyebrows. "I have literally never asked you for that, you always offer."
She shifts slightly where she stands, moves her weight from one leg to the other, caught. "Because I can do it," she mutters.
"Yes, I know. You're very strong, baby."
Van rolls her eyes, choosing to believe that you're teasing her because if she believes that you're being genuine she might die.
Your feet hit the ground with a thud. You do a silly curtsy, as if to say ta-da! and Van thinks you're so cute she's certain that she'll die. You give her one last grin and blow her a kiss before sneaking away from her house into the night.
Van goes to bed with her cheeks aching from smiling, her bed smelling of your perfume, and the faint sound of her brain screaming (terrified, celebrating) you are fucked!
─────✧・゚: *✧・
NOW.
"I wish I'd asked you to prom," your voice is muffled by her sweatshirt, lips partly pressed against her shoulder.
Van snorts, looking down at you. "What?"
"You never went," you explain, and you have that look on your face, like you've been thinking about this for weeks. Like you could cry. Van presses pause on the (admittedly) shitty action film she'd chosen and lets you try to get your thoughts out. "I really wanted you there. You would've liked it."
She lets out a sigh through her nose, a hand coming to rest against your cheek. "I really don't know if that's true, honey," she says honestly.
You straighten your back a little, a tiny frown on your face like you get when you've been challenged. "You would've liked it. You love to dance and the DJ was, like, surprisingly good. And Ms. Dawson actually said yes to a dance with Peter K., even though that was highly inappropriate now that I think about it. But it was funny at the time— and Natalie snuck in a bottle of vodka."
"Yeah?" She asks, awfully endeared even when she's heard the story a million times before. You'd told her all about it the day after prom, your voice groggy and sleepy over the phone. She had felt lame about having missed it, but a thousand times better as soon as she picked up the phone, giggling in her bed like a fool at every detail you gave her.
You wrap your fingers around the hand on your cheek, press a kiss against her palm. "You would've loved it," you say, sounding somehow more convinced than before. "I should've asked you."
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. I was a dick," you insist. "I was a coward—"
"Hey, no. No," Van sits up from her lazy posture, two thin wrinkles between her eyebrows when she frowns. They look good on her. You remember when they weren't there, and it always makes you a little emotional. "Don't say that. You weren't."
"But I was," you try to reason, stubborn to a fault. "I'm not, like, condemning myself. I'm stating a fact."
Her frown deepens. "Well, I don't like it. And I don't think it's a fact."
You didn't mean for this to turn into an argument, but you're not exactly thinking about that at the moment. It happens— you've let the thought saturate in your brain for too long and now you're stuck thinking that you're right. "Why are you arguing with me right now?" You ask, not being petty but genuinely wanting to know.
Van huffs a frustrated breath. "Because I thought about asking you to prom for years, okay?" She says, crawling with embarrassment. "I told myself I would over and over again and then I fucking didn't. If you were a coward, what does that make me?"
You pause, guilt swirling in your stomach because you realize all at once that you've been poking on a tender bruise you didn't even know existed. "Van," you say softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
She sighs, almost a chuckle. She can be so mean to herself, so condescending about her own feelings. You know she's not laughing at you, or disregarding you in any way— it's just what she does when she feels like she's humiliated herself. Especially when you're there to watch, looking at her so kindly when she's certain she deserves none of it. "Yeah, well. That was intentional," she mutters.
You let her look away from you for a moment before you push yourself onto your knees, placing one on each side of her hips. She welcomes you like she always does when you come to sit on her lap now, her hands on your waist and her face falling forward to press kisses over your collarbone. A thoughtless motion, automatic.
"Sweet girl," you hum, guiding her head up with a careful hand, smiling when you meet her eyes. "We should've gone out dancing alone. Would've been way more fun."
Van breathes out a laugh. She wonders if she'll cry, and feels like she could. "Yeah," she agrees.
"I would've said yes, you know. I'm not blaming you for not asking me, I get why you didn't. I really do. But it's important to me that you know that." You brush a strand of hair behind her ear. It's pretty, and getting long. In no time she'll be asking you to wash it over the sink and trim it with your fancy hair scissors, like you've been doing since you got back together when you were twenty five after a stupid argument that led to a two years long break. It wasn't a good time for either of you, but you don't regret it. You have the rest of your life to live with her. Still, there will always be things like this— arguments about deep buried shame, fears that might never go away, moments you missed that other high school sweethearts didn't because their worries weren't like yours. It's sad, but not inescapable all the time. You and Van don't blame each other for any of it. But sometimes you need to be reminded of that.
"I know," she nods, her voice in that soft, quiet tone that you love but rarely get with how passionate she is. It's not a hardship, you love that just as much. "I think maybe that's why— why I was so freaked out. Like, if you said yes, it would become real."
You nod and chuckle a little, sweet and airy. "And you'd have to actually start to date me? Yeah, I would be scared," you joke.
Van buries her face in your chest with a groan. "That's all I fucking wanted," she says, feeling too honest to play along like she usually would.
You let her stay there for a while, her nose brushing against the rise and fall of your chest. Wanna be here forever, she'd told you once, with cold fingers sneaking under your shirt, more than a little drunk. You have been making fun of her about it for ages, but it tugs at something different today. It makes you pull her softly with a hand on the back of her neck, just enough to press your lips against hers, not wanting to deny her any of your warmth that she might crave.
Van hums against your lips, moving where you want her when your hands guide her own from your waist down to your hips. You press your chest against hers like you know she likes and she moans into your mouth, a hand moving to press against your back and force you closer.
"I'm sorry I didn't ask you," you mumble when she lets you pull apart, speaking close to her ear as you kiss her cheek, lips soft over old acne scars and sunspots.
Van shakes her head. "I don't care," she promises, smiling like she does when she's about to say something corny. "Look at me now," she shrugs, fake humble. "I got the girl in the end."
You laugh against her smirk and kiss her until she's lifting your hips and pushing you down on the couch, your back against the worn pillows, a hand on the back of your head in case you bump it on the arm rest. You like when she moves you around just to show off, reminds you of when you were younger and she'd flex her muscles just because she knew you were looking. She might not be the same type of strong now, but she can still pull out some tricks when she wants to. And with you, Van often wants to.
She tilts her head back when you try to pull her in for another kiss, sighing as she gets comfortable on top of you. She almost gives up the act when you pout at her, blinking your pretty eyes, but instead she leans her weight on one hand next to your head and says, "That is, of course, if she doesn't leave me for Katie Lopez's magic fingers."
Van expects you to roll your eyes, slap her shoulder so she can say ouch! and dramatically rest her hand over the wounded spot. Instead, you slide your hand over hers where it's resting against your hip, intertwining your fingers together and smiling pretty, tilting your head. "Mmh, but I have the best fingers right here."
Van scoffs, playing amused rather than speechless because she's trying not to show you how much your words get to her. It's embarrassing how proud it makes her, how quickly she melts into the palm of your hand when you as much as imply that she's good at something, that you would pick her over everyone else, that you want her like she wants you. Praise from others makes her smile and say thank you, but praise from you reaches her core, makes her dizzy. Her lips feel dry and her tongue pokes out absentmindedly to lick them as you guide her hand up. Van barely registers the movement, too busy watching your face— how beautiful that she gets to see it all the time now, that she knows all the details like you know hers.
Her fingertips come to rest against your lips and her breath stutters as she tries desperately to maintain any sense of coolness or dignity or fucking something while you kiss each one, soft and attentive. She's thinking, is she insane for finding it as thrilling as she does, even after all these years? Do you know what you do to her? You can't possibly know, Van almost decides, but then you part your lips to slide two of her fingers into your mouth and she thinks that you do. You definitely know.
"F—fuck," she breathes out, and tries to remember her original plan to tease you but can't recall your old classmate's name. "You trying to butter me up?" She asks, her chuckle trembling but deep, from the back of her throat.
Her fingers slip from your mouth with a soft pop, and Van groans. You hum, "Is it working?"
You're mean, evil. You're the sweetest thing she's ever seen. Two things can be true at once. You're a dream, and you're not like this for anyone else. The thought echoes through her skull, warm and infectious. Van smirks. "Yeah."
#van palmer x reader#van palmer x female!reader#van x reader#van palmer x you#van palmer fic#yellowjackets fic#yellowjackets x reader
271 notes
·
View notes
Text
Finished watching Dead Boy Detectives. Here are my honest thoughts.
-If you're going into it expecting another Good Omens, stop. Our protagonists are all minors. Teenagers. They cuss, they have total dirty mouths and sexual humor, but they are not eternal beings pretending to be middle aged men. They're ghosts. Dead Boys, if you will. Also this might be a stretch, but I'm assuming from the slightly less good CGI that the budget for this series was a LOT less than what it was for GO
-Edwin is kind of a dick in the first episode. But it's okay. Because character growth is swag.
-REALISTIC CHARACTER GROWTH!!! I liked Edwin a LOT more during the second episode BECAUSE of the character growth. And honestly? It's completely natural that bro is more than a little prickly after only being able to trust one guy for an extremely long time. Fair enough my guy. Carry on.
- this show kinda has Nimona vibes. If that makes sense. Witty humor, somewhat sexual dialogue, funny moments during serious times, though geared towards a younger audience. If you like those kinds of things, you will like this, I'm sure of it.
- In the early episodes, the pacing/character relationships feel a little off??? I'm not sure if that was because I was expecting another Good Omens or what. But after 2-3 episodes, the dust quickly settled and we got into the actual storyline. Which was extremely appreciated✨
-these villains are FUCKED up. I'm telling you. They are HORRIFIC. Had me squirming and cringing through their intense scenes. And gosh. That was a TRIP.
-TY TENANT PLAYS THE MAIN GUY EDWIN!!!! And he plays him WELL. I did not realize this going in to the show and thought his face was VERY familiar. Only after I looked it up did I realize why. He's our sassy son of Job. (EDIT: turns out Ty plays the Doom Patrol version. Not the one on Netflix. My bad! They do look pretty similar though, so ykw. Great casting. Also my point still stands. This guy is a pretty fuckin awesome actor. 10/10)
-Cat King is such a wild card holy SHIT.
-Charles is cute as fuck. His backstory HURTS. But also. I love the way his ears look. Like in the pictures that I saw of him they were of when the Cat King impersonated him so I was like oh chill. So he's got pointed ears bc feline but NOPE. He's just like that!! And honestly? Slay. I fuckin love it.
-oh did I mention tragic backstories???? Yeah we got those :D for everyone :D
-Niko is the best and I love her. Also I love how the letters on her desk are written in Japanese. That is a VERY nice touch of character building.
-hot butcher lady with throat tattoo
All in all. A truly delightful series and I genuinely hope it gets another season because I NEED to know what happens next. My little sister LOVED it and the ending had us all staring open mouthed at the TV screen in shock.
This 15yo girl is literally ranting my ear off, having adventures with the Dead Boys in her dreams and chatting with me about it, searching up fanfics and drawing fanart, the whole shabang. And it is DIFFICULT for this girl to get into shows like this. So honestly? This is perfect. Thank you, Neil. For giving us a whole other banger.
That being said. If anybody else has some younger siblings that are around 15-17 and are looking for shows to binge watch together, this is the perfect one. I'm telling you, you will NOT regret it (except maybe emotionally)
Thoroughly recommend.
#dead boy detectives#dead boy detective agency#netflix series#neil gaiman#series recommendation#series review#dead boy detectives review
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some language comments for Gray Shelter [Episode 5], just like I promised!
"Do whatever/however you want to. (literally: 'Do it the way your heart desires') You do things how you want to anyway."
"I'm sorry" - the translation is correct, it's just it's funny how Yoondae's level of apology to his friend he just lashed out at last time + he wants to ask him for HELP, and all he says is: 미안 (mian). The most informal and short way of apologizing possible. He's so teenager-minded still.
Even when he asks "Can I leave my stuff in your dad's warehouse?" it comes out grammatically more of a demand, like 'Let me do that'. Yoondae is talking like someone who has a lot of walls and doesn't reach out to people, he doesn't talk kindly but he's honest and straightforward and he cries easily but he's very angry about it.
I especially love his facial expression, even when he's at his most miserable, he'll make it everyone else's problem, as if being pitiful is the worst thing that could happen to him. "I have no one else I could ask for help but you >:(("
Fun fact about Korean's sentence structure, when you quote someone or express your thoughts, you put your sentence this way: "quoted phrase" and then + "that's what they said/what i thought/etc". So oftentimes, I see Kdramas use that trick when characters say a phrase... and then take it back with "that's someone else's thoughts" or "that's what you thought I'd say, right? LMAO". It's funny how the translators' way of transferring this was using the word "Sike!" xD
"It wasn't a mistake to me." "If it wasn't a mistake, then [what]? Since you started talking [about it], let me ask you. So what if it wasn't a mistake? What do you want to achieve with me?" "Can I do anything about it? In the past or now, you're the one who runs away and avoids me. I asked you, can I make a decision (do I have any choices)?" "You made the move but you want me to decide? Fine, then. Let sleep together once and end it once and for all. Go wash up first. I don't have time, I only left office for a short time."
The way they both care about each other but their dialogues and words are very sharp and bitter almost all the time, especially here, aaaah. That's the contrast that hooked me for all these 5 episodes. Soohyuk doesn't swear but he's talking to Yoondae very harshly and emotionless here, and for Yoondae harsh talk is the default, it's like Soohyuk is lowering his manners to talk on his level, to provoke him (or maybe that's also how he distances himself from the discovery that Yoondae has feelings for him).
And Yoondae is holding back his frustration and tears, but he understands the way such words were aimed to hurt him, so instead of lashing out back at Soohyuk, as he probably wants him to, he swallows and unusually calmly, almost softly says: "Let's talk when you can be honest. Because I will shut up and wait for you."
And it makes Soohyuk stand there in shock and contemplate.
I'll add next scenes in READ MORE since this post is getting long!
Here's the moment when the boss asks their youngest employee to write something more 'trendy' for their marketing text xD It's very true that trends in Korea come and go very quickly, they also love to invent new terms and phrases all the time. Like "MZ slang", there are many phrases, and the one trendy phrase the boss uses as the example is 킹받네 (king-pad-nae) which literally written as 'receive the king' but means "I got angry" - but with a teasing/playful subtext, like friends could say each other 'ah you're so cute, it makes me angry'.
If I'm not wrong, this phrase was widely used like 1-2 years ago and not really in its trendy peak as well right now but kudos to boss to even learning it xD And it's funny how translator chose to (I assume) use "[living in my head] rent-free" phrase as a substitute. Another fun fact, they ended up using some trendy lingo in their ad that translator gave us as "no cap!" but that part of phone msg was so blurry, I couldn't see which exact Korean phrase they ended up using x)
"Hyung, if you have any ask for help, say so. For you, 2 million... No, I'll try to give you until 3 million won in any way."
Can I just say that we had this character for one moment and I'm so not ready to let him go, I want Jeongwan to have his own storyline and everything and he's too sweet and also caring for strangers/his colleagues, and so he stole the spotlight for me xD
Yoondae said there's no food at home. But also, as you can see, there is: beer, water, rice that you can cook in the microwave, kimchi for a side dish and some other microwaved food. According to my Korean friends, typical Korean person (poor like student) can survive if they have rice, kimchi and also ramyeon. That's their the most basic food. Just a fun fact. xD
Also he was on his third can of beer, and he already made a drunken longing call on the verge of tears to Soohyuk, lying about being hurt and bringing trouble just so he'd return home. "Is that okay with you?" - just shoot me, please. :')
"I called [the cleaning service/you] to tell you to stop it [sleeping outside of home]" "Let's have that dinner [that I promised you] today. Wait for me."
After days, Yoondae was ready to give up, he "tricked" Soohyuk to return home just so he could tell him he'll move out and stop pushing any talk. And then, Soohyuk brought up the dinner (the feelings) that he kept avoiding. No wonder Yoondae looked so struck and confused. It just gave him his hopes back (and viewers too, but we probably should've known better with this kind of series haha)
Interesting cultural context: they are getting samgyeopsal - grilled meat, chosen by Soohyuk because Yoongdae said there wasn't anything he wanted to eat. And usually, the youngest one has to set the cutlery and grill meat, out of respect for the seniors. And here we see that Soohyuk is the one choosing the place, menu and even grilling the meat and pouring soju for Yoondae.
Once again, it shows that despite Yoondae's emotions and pleads, he is not mature enough, he is not ready to focus on other people. We know he can't plan his own future, he doesn't know what to do, and we see where their relationship stands now - Yoondae is still more of a burden than an equal partner to Soohyuk, and Soohyuk is more of a parent.
Even when they drink soju (in Korean drinking etiquette usually you don't drink alone, you toast together and drink together), notice how they don't even clink their glasses together, then Soohyuk is the only one drinking and Yoondae wants to follow him but puts the glass back. He's taking a shot later, when Soohyuk grills the meat again. They are totally unsynchronized at this point of their lives, and it's painful to watch.
"I said he [my father] was dead because that's the truth/reality for me. There was no other [hidden] meaning. I didn't plan to lie to you."
"I moved out completely. If I don't organize my life starting from doing this, then I don't think I'll be able to live like all the other [normal] people."
The fact that Yoondae started thinking about improving his life (the word 'organizing'), immediately made Soohyuk stop in surprise. So he started asking what does the normal life like others mean to him, hopeful to find that equal adult footing from Yoondae... but Yoondae's thoughts stopped there. And Soohyuk offered his own goal and life meaning: "to have a place to go back to, that's enough for me".
Here's when Yoondae thoughtfully agreed with him: "It's important to have a home", and took the meat tongs from Soohyuk, saying how high-maintenance he is. Yoondae embraced that realization, he took the responsibility (even a small cultural gesture) and even though Yoondae nagged him, Soohyuk smirked. Because it wasn't a completely hopeless situation. And Yoondae proved it, by saying how eating like this and going home together is his normal life as well. (and yet they were still unsynchronized until the very end! we can't have happy ending yet)
AND HERE IS WHERE I HAVE TO MAKE A SECOND POST! Because tumblr only allows 30 images in one, and I can't stop screenshotting the last conversation so I'm going to make another post that you can find in 'gray shelter comments' or 'dropthemeta' tags (upd. or here's the link to the post!)^^
#gray shelter comments#gray shelter#gray current#dropthemeta#kbl#korean bl#kactors#grey shelter#bl series#soohyuk x yoondae#language details#language#korean language#korea#korean culture#things you didn't notice
61 notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay, okay- Dilf!Art thoughts I had since like a long time now (And this shit is long as hell and not well written🫣. I’m sorry!!):
Being yet again their plaything but also with a function. Like tennis protege, Junior PR manager, Tashi’s Assistent […]. Being a part of their relationship, motivating Art and working (+good friendship) with Tashi. A dream.
SO in New Rochelle you watch the opponents, analyzing their styles and finding weak spots which could be useful for Art. Also the half finale where Mr. Zweig plays. You’ve only seen him on a few tennis recordings with Art back then.
Super concentrated…you stop writing in your little notebook. Glancing at Patrick: His thighs. His serve. His passion. The biceps. Being in awe. And he notices. How couldn’t he? Sitting straight in the front row, eyes glued to his movements, wearing a crop top and matching tennis skirt on this very hot day, basically open mouth, never seen someone playing tennis like he does before.
He wants you. Now. Giving you his charming grin after scoring an ace. Looking at you before serving or while lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat away. And after winning the game he comes to you.
You blush and one hour later, both of you sit in a cafe. His body leaned forwards, you could smell his shower gel. The cologne. You’re a little shy, I mean you’re Tashi’s and Art’s, aren’t you? But has this triangle a future? However as aroused as both of you were after flirting, slightly touching, eating cake/ice in the most erotic way possible, you just gave him a hug, thanking him for the talk (you asked a lot about his tennis still being Art‘s girl)
And when you arrive at the hotel, Tashi and Art already on the dining table, the ofc ask you where you’ve been. The moment the name “Patrick Zweig” crosses your lips, art let his fork crash on the plate. He may have won some games but he’s under pressure. It’s fucking Zweig. He leaves the table with a tensed jaw. “It’s alright” he says with a cold undertone.
Tashi’s not angry. But kind of determined, disappointed. “There’s no excuse for this kind of behavior.” Telling you how to get Arts confidence up again. “And you better do it right”, she said, leaving the table.
AND THE NEXT DAY, now hear me out, it’s the sauna scene. Patrick and Art are the only players left. So Art’s in the sauna alone. That’s the moment you snuck in. Ofc just with a tiny towel. A cute pink one with tennis balls (cliche haha) which Art bought you some time ago.
He’s ofc surprised and didn’t want to see you at first. But you come closer, letting the towel fall off, leaning forward and searching for his gaze with your big doe eyes. Making him free, touching his thighs and telling him, he’s the only one. The best one. How he makes you feel. That he is fucking Art Donaldson. And you are his.
He can’t. He sinks his fingers in your hips pulling you in. *some hot sauna action. You probably riding him I guess. And afterwards he makes you cum again and slaps you in the ass again when you leave
Leaving just in time before Patrick arrives. And now HEAR ME OUT:
THIS (in this twisted universe) IS THE REASON ART FEELS SO MUCH BETTER THAN PATRICK IN THIS SAUNA SCENE AND IS ALSO ABLITZLW MEAN.
Yeah. So if you’ve read this till now. Wow. 🙈🥹
Can’t say enough, I love your blog cat 💘
LOVE THIS <3 Love sticky throuple dynamics >:) And thank you you’re so sweet!!
But you’re such a good little addition to their marriage— a vehicle for Art to work out his frustrations, his inferiority complex. You look at him like a god, you fuck him like he’s the best you’ve ever had. You’re so good for him, you help Tashi get information on Art’s opponents by researching or watching their matches in person— you’re their favorite toy.
It was a mistake, Tashi knew, to send you to watch Patrick’s match, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of watching him play herself, so there you were— sweet, eager to please in the front row, taking notes in a tiny notebook as he and his opponent took to the court. And of course Patrick reeled you in, it wouldn’t been remarkable if he hadn’t. He’s handsome, he’s charming, he invited you to have dinner with him, so you did.
You come back to the hotel smelling like fast food (because dinner had been sitting in the tailgate of his shitty car and sharing Shake Shack that you paid for) and axe body spray, and Art fucking knows. His girl was off with Patrick. Again. The worst fucking case of Deja Vu.
You make it up to him so sweetly, though. Bouncing on his cock in the sauna, not caring if any staff or athletes passing by hear. Proving that all you need is him— his cock, his affection, his love. All yours, the only person in the world you need. You cum so pretty on his cock, milking him, crying out and continuing to grind onto his cock, even as it softens inside of you. You give him a kiss and repeat yourself again. “I only want you, Art.”
When you tug your towel back on and slip into the hallway, Patrick’s grinning at you, and you know he heard everything. Good.
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
From someone who read Azriel’s POV bonus chapter without having read any of the ACOTAR books beforehand:
Couple of months ago I stumbled upon Azriel’s POV bonus chapter and I have no idea how or why because I hadn’t yet started reading the books. I had some basic knowledge of the story and the characters thanks to TikTok and it was probably one of the ship war videos that made me search for the bonus chapter because I was intrigued what the heck was going on that was making everyone go to war over. So, I read the bonus chapter without being influenced by liking one ship or the other, just wanted to see why everyone was fussing over Azriel.
The first part of the bonus chapter with Azriel and Elain made me SUPER UNCOMFORTABLE. I read a lot of smutty books and dark romances so sex talk is not something I shy away from. But the way that scene was written made me physically uncomfortable and not just because of Azriel’s thoughts, but Elain’s behaviour also. I can’t explain it, but both of them felt so cringy. I kept reading because I wanted to understand the fuss over the other part of the bonus chapter but if I had to decide on entering the world of ACOTAR based on that first part I would have thrown it in the trash. Needless to say I was super happy when Rhys interrupted them.
And then came the second part of the bonus chapter with Gwyn and oh my God but what a change. Azriel transformed from a creep (sorry but that was the vibe he was giving me in the beginning) to romance books hero in 2 paragraphs just by changing the scenery and the female protagonist. His scene with Gwyn felt so genuine and warm and just like he felt something restless settling inside him I felt all of the uncomfortable feelings leaving me from the first part of the chapter to give room to this warmth I felt for the 2 of them. And then for me it was pretty obvious that the author was telling the readers: this is his girl. The scene, the way it is written, the words used for the training scene but also at the end in the library, for me it was pretty damn obvious they were gonna be a couple. And then I understood that the first part of the bonus chapter was supposed to make us feel uncomfortable so we could see the contrast with the second part, literally obviously saying: The first girl ain’t it. The second girl is who you should be looking at.
So all of this without having read the books. And no, I’m not lying about it. I’m 27 and have better things to do than make stuff up for a ship war.
And then I read the books and entered the SJM world (TOG, ACOTAR, CC) and I was super confused with all of the E/riel fans and their theories and arguments that made me question whether we read the same books. I saw no ‘build-up for 4 books’ (which he spent mostly in love with Mor), sure little cute moments here and there but without that bonus chapter I would have even said Azriel looked at Elain as a little sister to protect. The bonus chapter only told me he has deep personal trauma to heal. Sorry but the fact that he hadn’t thought about a future with Elain but just sex is no way in hell romantic. So, 4 books of build-up led to, well, that? And the fact that Elain was willing to kiss another guy in the same house where her mate was sleeping (whom she hasn’t rejected yet) doesn’t speak volumes of her either, only that she also has a lot of stuff to deal with.
When Sarah in her interview said that she thought it was pretty obvious about who the next book will be and that she left breadcrumbs in the bonus chapter, for me it was pretty obvious it would be Gwyn and Az (I felt that literally by having read only the bonus chapter before the books). All of their little moments in ACOSF, how Sarah wanted us to pay attention to their reactions to one another, left no room for doubt in my mind, just like I saw it instantly with 2 glances the first time Nessian met, and I felt the chemistry right away.
I could go on ‘till tomorrow but probably should stop here. Just had to write this out of genuine confusion at how people try to deny the obvious (literally what Sarah said) by using theories and arguments that only show they probably haven’t even read ACOSF or other SJM books, because she couldn’t be more obvious than that with her writing.
P.S. This feels the same like when season 1 of The Vampire Diaries aired and I instantly knew Damon and Elena were it. Didn’t even need proof, just had a gut feeling. And Stelena fans then were also aggressively explaining there was no way Delena would be a thing much less endgame, but oh, guess which ship won in the end?
#gwynriel#gwyn acotar#pro gwynriel#pro gwyneth berdara#anti e/riel#acotar#acosf#azriel#azriel and gwyn#azriel acotar#azriel x gwyn#gwyneth berdara#gwyneth x azriel#sarah j maas#sjmaas
226 notes
·
View notes
Text
fnaf movie spoilers below I just wanna get my thoughts out this isn't well written I'm just excited and need an outlet!
so I've seen people say it was bad? I don't think it was bad at all. I think from a technical viewpoint there were things that could have been better but as a fan it was wonderful. Absolutely made for the fans. It wasn't really a horror movie. I was expecting a lot more horror. There weren't really many jumpscares? And it was mostly the balloon boy doll. I still thought that was funny.
I loved the opening sequence with Spingbonnie leading the kids away! He looked a little goofy at points but that's okay I liked it.
I don't know if I'm remembering wrong but the moment we heard Mike's alarm clock I thought 'that's the alarm clock from fnaf 4'. Knowing that 'Steve Raglan' is of course William made his scenes all the more funny because man we know you're talking about yourself. I really wasn't sure if they were going to reveal that Mike was Michael Afton and Abby was Elizabeth or something and they obviously avoided saying his last name to tease us about it. The Vanessa plot twist completely took me by surprise. Obviously we could see she was involved more than she was letting on but I really wasn't expecting her to be Williams daughter. Nice plot twist for fans, subverting the expectations of Mike being an Afton and calling her Vanessa to confuse us and everything. I liked the changes they made to it because you're gonna have to change stuff when it's a standalone film.
The animatronics looked incredible! Other than Foxys kinda janky scenes because he couldn't be operated like the others, their movements were really good and believable. I loved their personalities being able to come out with Abby! That scene was so cute.
Springbonnie looked amazing. I'd say that suit looked the best of all! Very menacing, I love how Mathew Lillard played William. I can't wait to see those scenes again because he was very good. I'm so happy we got the springlock scene! I like how he didn't really scream because they say how it would puncture your vocal chords and you wouldn't be able to.
The living tombstone playing was just the cherry on top. My sister was the victim of my excited flailing on more than one occasion but that was probably the worst. (I actually gasped and clapped my hands together when Springbonnie appeared-) In my mother's words, when I told her about the alarm clock, 'God frankie you're sad' lmao.
OH YEAH and I waited till the end and was happy to hear the come find me noises.
Fun fact I managed to miss the matpat cameo because I went to the bathroom. I asked my sister if I missed anything and she said no. Lmao.
My grandfathers clock playing in the credits threw me off haha.
58 notes
·
View notes
Note
I think Erika actually ships Voxlie. There was a clip with her, Amir and Blake, saying she liked it a lot cuz she liked Christian Borle (I don't blame her) so here's to hoping Charlie and Vox get an entire episode for themselves! (Also hoping for a seething Alastor in the background as well)
Also the thing you said about RA basically being gay Charlastor, I agree cuz I've seen Lucifer edited into the episode 7 scenes. Which like... does that mean they actually see the scene having sexual tension? But because it's their hated ship they chose to ignore it and replace Charlie with her dad instead?? Even when they argue that the entire scene is a father-daughter moment with her and Alastor???
Double standards, man.
I mean they've stolen art from prominent charlastor shippers and redrawn Luci over it, I've seen charlastor fankid drawings on tiktok with a big ole CHARLASTOR watermark slapped over it get tons of comments saying "oh I just adore that radioapple fankid". Actually, one of my good friends who I've traveled through several fandoms with did a super cute charlastor art but one of the comments she got was from someone rp'ing their oc who was alastor's wife about yanking him away. Which... look live your bliss but don't do that kind of stuff on other peoples' work. But then this is the same group of people who still use that "but he sees her like a daughter" idea from the song that the creator herself debunked. Media literacy is clearly not the very vocal portion of those shippers' strong suit.
And if I can be real, I think if there's good enough art for a ship you can make anyone ship anything. And that's both visual and written art. But personally I think you can always tell when someone is creating something because it does numbers and when they have true joy in what they're creating. And hell Charlastor is my otp but I have absolutely no problem with other ships. (Being honest I've seen some really great guitarprincess art. There are many benefits to having multishipper friends). And honestly I am not mad about my ships being canon or not. I'm perfectly content to have my little follies smooch and that never affect the brand lore (we've all re-enacted soap operas full of cheating and drama with our dolls as kids... right?). It's like a cake right? And something being canon is like, the frosting. It's nice, it's pretty, but it's not really the reason why you're there. And for some fandom history; part of the reason slash ships were so popular in the early days of modern fandom was because it was male characters who had the deep meaningful and emotional relationships with one another. Trekkies didn't ship Spirk because gay, they shipped it because of the dynamic between Kirk and Spock.
People don't ship rupphire because they like garnet. Part of that character's whole arc was being her own gem, as herself and as her components. Making a commitment to one another where they're together even while apart. Like, is the representation nice? Sure, I guess. But we've kind of run into the same problem that popularized slash ships in the first place; it's an expectation of media and two characters get slapped together as love interests without any real depth as to why they'd be together or why they'd stay together. It's the same as in the 60s and 70s you have generic blonde #5 as the hero's love interest despite him spending 95% of the runtime with his male travel companion where they share all the emotional beats that are supposed to be for romantic interests.
I think I'm rambling at this point, let me know if any of this makes sense.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Half-Life | Chapter Four
You realized then how delicate this all still was.
Pairing: Plaga!Leon S. Kennedy/F!Chubby!Paranormal Investigator!Reader
Tags: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Angst, Sexual Tension, Masturbation, Blood, Body Horror, Animal Injury & Death
Notes: Heeeeey, guys. It's been a minute since I last posted, but here is chapter 4 (finally)! My summer has been more busy and stressful than I ever could have imagined, so I'm happy to finally be able to finish this chapter, which is the longest chapter of anything I've ever written at just over 14k words!!! I keep breaking my own personal record every time I write, it feels like lol. I also think this is some of the best writing I've ever done and I'm extremely proud of it! Not sure when chapter 5 will come out, as school is starting back up for me soon and a couple people I know irl are getting married this fall, so I'll be traveling a lot as well. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know your thoughts! (And here's a little behind-the-scenes tidbit: the painting I describe at the beginning of this chapter is actually in RE4R in the grand hall!)
Masterlist | Previous | Next
--------------------
You awoke before Leon, for once.
You couldn’t stop yourself from sitting up on your air mattress and looking at his curled-up form, finally allowed to take in his appearance fully without having to sneak a glance or risk embarrassing yourself and him by getting caught staring.
You had yet to see him so at peace until this moment. He was laid atop his blankets, nearly in the fetal position, one long arm tucked under his pillow while the other was slung across his exposed midriff. His appendages were retracted again and his tail was hanging off the side of the bed, twitching slightly in his slumber. His breaths were deep and even, and his messy blond hair covered his closed eyes.
Never in your life did you think a literal monster could be so damn cute—so damn attractive in ways most humans hadn’t been to you before. Even the ones you dated. You wondered what that said about you.
As you gazed at Leon, you were reminded of the day before, a lovely warmth settling over you like that of the sun spilling in from the window above.
You could feel yourself blush as you recalled him carrying you across the bridge; how he had plucked a flower just to stick it into your hair; the fact he was willing to dance with you in the dilapidated ballroom simply because you asked; the way he played into your little game as you sat upon the throne, faces so near, you could brush your nose against his if you had just moved a little bit closer.
But then he had pulled away, leaving you breathless… and confused.
You weren’t sure why he would humor you with the flirting and the lingering glances and the gentle touches just to distance himself again—why he was holding himself back.
It was maddening, and you struggled to muster the courage to ask him about it or take matters into your own hands. Because, if you were honest with yourself, you were terrified of what it would mean if you did.
Worst case scenario, he would reject you and send you away. It would sting, but you had grown accustomed to the feeling; almost expected it by now. Besides, you were going to leave anyway, weren’t you?
Best case scenario, though? He would reciprocate and then… what? What could come of this? Would you still go home and let this remain as some passionate, short-lived fling? Would you work out how to stay and leave your entire life—friends and family—behind? Or would you come and visit him when you could manage it, living some kind of half-life split between your world and his?
Every outcome you could think of seemed to hurt, and you thought maybe it would be better to keep things as they were; tense but platonic.
However, being with him was so easy. Natural as breathing (when he wasn’t stealing your breath away, that is). Sure, there had been hiccups and misunderstandings. The both of you were stubborn and set in your ways, but you put your differences to rest so quickly.
But god, were you different. The type of different that you thought before meeting him would never work. As a human, he was handsome. Devastatingly so. Could have been a model, had he chosen another career.
And, most notably, he could have had anyone he wanted.
You had come to love your body with all its curves and marks, but you doubted he would even look your way if you had crossed paths in another life.
You knew it wasn’t fair to yourself or to him to compare who he was to who he is now, considering how much he had gone through over the years and his transformation. However, you couldn’t help but think the attention you were getting from him came from loneliness and nothing more.
If anyone else had been just as stupid and nosy as you, he probably would have acted this way towards them in your stead.
Could you so easily be replaced?
Your chest clenched painfully at the thought and you forced yourself to look away from him, eyes bouncing around the room until they landed on the painting hung on the nearby wall.
It was a beautiful depiction of the castle��how it must have looked when it was occupied by people instead of dust and crumbling stone. The colors were vibrant, and a couple in the foreground were walking away from it, arm in arm. You admired it for a long while, feeling a sense of serenity overtake your anxious mind for a moment.
And then memories of the day prior flooded it instead, how you and Leon had spent the rest of the evening making crude wooden frames for the paintings you had “borrowed” from the castle, carefully finding the best places to hang the new pieces on his once empty walls.
Leon acted like he didn’t care, letting you decide for him, but you caught him glancing at the artwork from time to time, a gentle smile on his face at the way they brightened up his home.
You knew once you left he would be lonely again. You hoped if you could make these changes for him it might be enough to keep him content, even for just a little while. And, selfishly, you felt that if you couldn’t have him, you could at least inject remnants of yourself into his life. Maybe then he’d think of you the way you knew you’d think of him until your last breath.
Everything about it was unfair.
You heard a rustle and a quiet call of your name, your gaze meeting the half-lidded one of Leon as he sat up to look at you. He let out a yawn, his impossibly wide mouth gaping open in a way you once thought to be terrifying, those razor teeth glinting in the low light of the morning sun. Now, as he blinked the sleep from his red eyes, you found it more endearing, like the maw of a cat. Precious in all its sharp edges.
“Good morning,” you told him softly, a smile playing on your lips as if you hadn’t nearly worried your teeth through them moments ago.
“Mornin’. You been up long?” he asked as he swept his hair from his face. You wished you could do it for him, but you pushed that thought deep down instead.
“Not long. Was just looking at the painting,” you replied, half-lying as you pointed at the artwork in question.
His gaze trailed up to it, a small grin alighting his bizarrely beautiful features. “It really was a great idea, bringing them back here. Makes the place a lot less depressing.”
“I have those, occasionally,” you joked, pulling yourself to your feet. “I’m gonna start breakfast if you’re interested in something other than fish.”
With a tilt of his head, he asked, “What’re you makin’?”
You smirked as you walked up to him. “You can find out for yourself if you get dressed and meet me downstairs.”
He rolled his eyes playfully, catching you off guard by leaning in close, so tall that even sitting down he was the same height as you were standing. “So demanding, bunny.”
You scoffed. “Forgive me. Please get dressed and meet me downstairs. Better?”
“Baby steps.”
Splaying your hand against his chest, you teasingly shoved him, “Whatever. I’ll just cook without you.”
He grabbed your wrist, clawed fingers cool against your skin, causing a shiver to run through you. “C’mon, you’re breaking my heart here.”
It was your turn to roll your eyes, pulling slightly against his hold. “Then be good and do as you’re told.”
He sighed dramatically, releasing you from his grip. “Yes, ma’am.”
You grinned triumphantly, gently tapping your finger against the tip of his nose. It caused him to scrunch up his face in a way that made you laugh, and then you turned on your heels and strolled to the door.
You glanced back at him as he stood and stretched. “Bacon and eggs, by the way.”
“Now that’s something I can’t pass up.”
“Figured.” And with that, you were on your way.
You kickstarted your morning by brushing your teeth and washing your face in the sink, then quickly got dressed so you could begin working on breakfast.
Leon was swift to join you, staying out of your way as he would be little help with his claws but keeping you company regardless. You made sure to leave his eggs runny and his bacon undercooked to abide by his more primal eating habits.
Soon enough, the two of you were at the table, sitting across from each other as was becoming the norm. It all felt so… domestic.
“Got any plans I need to know about?” he inquired after emptying his plate.
You swallowed the bite you had been chewing, glancing out of the nearby window. “It’s a nice day out. Pretty warm for autumn. Would that lake trip I mentioned yesterday be out of the question?”
“Don’t see why we can’t. And there’s lots to see. I think you’re going to have a good time.”
“With you? Always.”
You could have sworn a faint pink rose to his face, but he was quick to stand and place his used dishes in the sink, so you couldn’t be certain.
After a quick prep for the trip, you headed down to the lake, Leon helping you get onto the boat, which rocked violently as you stepped onto it, to your dismay. He chuckled as you grappled his shoulders to steady yourself, slowly lowering onto the bench beneath you.
“Not too keen on a swim, huh?” he teased you.
“Not fully clothed, at least,” you muttered in reply.
He simply smirked at that but didn’t respond.
Leon smoothly directed the loud motorboat to the first location you had agreed upon back at the house, which was a small cave that held a wooden shack inside. It was such a strange little place, but you liked to hear the echo of your voices bounce off the cave walls, as well as the sound of the boat gently slapping against the dock.
The headless statue with the dark stains on it—that looked an awful lot like old blood—made you uneasy, but you could see yourself camping out at a place like this.
After that, Leon said he was taking you to what he called “chicken island”, which made you laugh.
“Can’t imagine why they’d call it that,” you mused.
“It had chickens there if you can believe it,” was his deadpan response.
And he didn’t lie. Although the birds were no longer present, many rusted cages full of straw nests were stacked across the small area and worn feathers littered the ground. There wasn’t much to it, as he had warned, but you felt the need to at least say you had been to such a silly place.
He then took you into another cave, pulling up to a large dock with only your flashlight as a guide. You climbed up the ladder to the deck above—a place that you had passed through to get to the lake in the first place—to sit on a crate and eat your lunch.
Time was passing rather quickly while out on the water, and you worried if you spent too much time dawdling, you’d have to come back the next day and waste precious hours you could be doing other things.
The end of your visit here was coming up sooner than you’d like, after all.
You were halfway through your sandwich, giving the room a more intense sweep, when your eyes fell upon the elevator in the corner. You had pointed it out before, but Leon wasn’t keen on using it, as the generator keeping the thing in service had long since lost fuel.
Apparently, there had been a shooting range with moving targets on the floor below, to your bewilderment. There was also one inside the castle and another in the mines beneath it, though Leon told you it was too dangerous to trek the old shafts.
You glanced at the counter next to the elevator and a thought came to your mind. “Hey, Leon, you said there were moving targets in the shooting range, right?”
He looked at you quizzically but nodded, mouth full of sliced ham.
You giggled at the sight, but continued your questioning, “So if they were moving, was someone controlling them?”
He swallowed thickly before answering, “Yeah... This guy I just referred to as ‘The Merchant’. He popped up all over the village while I was trying to save Ashley. Helped me a lot by selling me supplies. He was in charge of the shooting ranges around here.”
“How did he know where you’d end up in time to set up shop? And how did he avoid getting infected with the parasite?”
Leon clicked his tongue. “Your guess is good as mine. He was… weird… but he did me a solid, so I figured it would be best not to ask questions. Even sold me some things to live on after I turned. He never came back after that.”
“Do you wish he did?” you asked, unable to stop yourself from prying. It was a bad habit, you knew, but you couldn’t help it.
You wanted to get to know Leon in every capacity, even though leaving would only hurt worse if you did. You must've been a masochist, then.
He sighed wearily, crossing his arms. “If I’m being honest… every day I wished someone would come back. Didn’t matter who. Used to lay awake at night and think about Claire or Ashely or Ad—” he paused at that, and you were going to ask what name he was about to say when he continued, “Anyway, I used to imagine them coming to find me. Just to say hi, I guess. To see how I was doing. But they never did. Not that they should. I told Ashley not to come back for her safety, and to not tell anyone I was alive. Don’t know why I hoped she’d break her promise.”
“Well,” you started, reaching over and wrapping your fingers around his hand, “at least I’m here.”
“Yeah, and I’m glad for it, even if it's just for a week.” He was staring down at your knuckles and you wanted nothing more than to coil your arms around him, but you refrained.
You considered him for a long moment instead, all your overthinking from earlier being tossed out of your mind as you promptly made a decision, saying, “I could always come back. Make this a yearly trip or something.”
His gaze jumped up to your own, then, shock evident in his pale features. “And why would you do that?”
You let out a huff of laughter. Was he really that clueless? Well, you weren’t about to give him the full truth—that you were utterly infatuated with him—instead replying, “Because I’m your friend, aren’t I?”
“Friend,” he repeated, voice low. Was there a hint of disappointment in his tone, or did you imagine it? “Yeah, I guess at this point, you really are. But I don’t know if it would be a good idea for you to come back.”
“Why?” You felt hurt by that, but you tried to hide it behind a nonchalant attitude, attempting to sound more curious than bitter.
“We’re wasting daylight,” he said instead of answering you, standing up from his crate. “We should keep moving.”
You stood up, too, confusion and frustration circling in your head like vultures. “Fine, but this conversation isn’t over, Leon.”
“Hm,” was all he replied, already making his way to the boat before you even finished zipping up your backpack.
The short trip to the other side of the cave was one full of awkward silence. You didn’t want to show that you were annoyed, but it was difficult to mask it while he was giving you the cold shoulder.
You realized then how delicate this all still was. A few days together was not enough time for him to fully open up to you. You were upset, but he had a stormy history—one he wasn’t keen on sharing.
Whether it was to protect himself from the vulnerability or spare you from the weight of his past, you didn’t know. But you wanted nothing more than to assure him that he meant something to you. That he could trust you.
You kept your mouth shut.
Despite the change in attitude, Leon was still quick to help you out of the boat. It was something you appreciated, given your apparent lack of sea legs.
Your concerned thoughts were replaced with a renewed sense of awe, though, as you shone your flashlight over the cave walls and rushed forward. Leon simply followed behind you while you explored the place, as he made a habit of doing since your arrival.
You found another headless statue stained in dark brown, to your disgust, but not much else resided in the labyrinthine tunnels.
You went back to the boat, and as you were about to leave the area altogether, you pointed out another small dock nearby. “What’s over there? Can we go?”
He seemed hesitant, shoulders tensing, but he eventually nodded, pulling up alongside it.
Once on solid ground, you were swift in finding a painting on the cave wall, which was a large and very old map of the lake with what looked like a whale in the center.
“What is that?” You asked Leon, the uneasy silence from just before fading as your curiosity took root in its stead.
He grimaced as if remembering something terrible. “Del Lago. Giant fish monster in the lake. I killed it, though, so don’t worry.”
“Ah, a Spanish Nessie, then,” you teased despite your horror at such a concept. “Must have been old, if this painting is anything to go by.”
“Its body sank to the bottom of the lake pretty much as soon as I downed the thing,” he said, looking up at the depiction of the creature. “It’s almost a shame, what happened to it.”
“Why, cos you killed an ancient majestic beast?”
He turned to you with a smile. “No, cos I wasted all that meat.”
You laughed and he chuckled in response, the awkward tension from earlier finally giving way to the easygoing banter you enjoyed so much.
“C’mon, there’s more to explore,” you urged, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along.
Near the mural was a shrine with two large hands sticking up from the cave floor, a head sitting in either stone palm.
Well, that explains the headless statues, you mused.
You moved on quickly after that, the cave giving way to a forested path. You made a face as you skirted past a sacrificial altar, gripping Leon a little tighter.
After having to crawl underneath a tiny gap in a stone formation, you made it to a fork in the path, a small building to your right, and a winding trail to your left.
“What’s over there?” you asked Leon as you pointed to the trail, leaning down to wipe the dirt from your clothes.
He seemed to freeze before responding a little too quickly, “Not much. And that cabin just leads to another dock. We should head back to the boat.”
“Oh, c’mon, we’re already here! Might as well take a peek!” you chirped, marching onto the trail.
Leon didn’t argue, but he was tense as he followed you up to the end of the path.
You were more than a little confused by what you found there.
“Graves?” you questioned aloud as you looked upon the two crosses made crudely of sticks, names carved into the wood. They weren’t next to each other like you’d expect, but spread apart and angled toward the center of the dead-end path. “How strange. The only other ones I’ve seen were in the church cemetery.”
“Yeah, strange,” Leon muttered behind you, sounding almost… nervous? You wondered why.
You leaned down to the cross on the left, barely able to make out the name “Luis Serra Novarro” on the wood. An old lighter was on the ground beside it. You wondered if it even worked anymore with how long it looked to be sitting there.
You then crouched before the other cross, “Major Jack Krauser” etched messily upon the surface.
“Well, his name isn’t very local-sounding,” you joked of the latter.
Leon didn’t reply, but you were too distracted by what was dug into the ground in front of the cross to comment on it. It was a large knife with an engraving of a snake on its rusted blade.
“Wow, that’s cool,” you mused, reaching out to pull it from the dirt. It felt like a waste to leave such a well-crafted weapon just sitting there.
“Stop!” Leon barked, lunging forward and yanking your hand from where it brushed against the scales.
Shocked, you pulled away and stood up, taking a step back at the snarl on his face. “Whoa, what’s wrong? The thing booby-trapped or something?”
He sighed, his expression turning weary instead of angry. “No, just… would like to respect the dead.”
You tilted your head in confusion. “Respect the dead? You piled up human corpses at the entrance to the village. Not sure how that’s exactly—” You stopped mid-sentence, realization hitting you as you took in the miserable look on Leon’s face. “You… you knew these guys, didn’t you?”
He grimaced at your words but slowly nodded in response.
“Who were they?”
Leon crossed his arms over his chest tightly, as if to hug himself, before jerking his head to the grave on the left. “Luis helped me and Ashley. He actually saved me from him, too,” he said, looking at the grave to the right. “He was killed by that very knife.”
“Why bury this guy next to your friend if he murdered him?” You were flabbergasted by this whole thing, desperate to make sense of Leon’s strange actions.
He winced at that. “He was my mentor. Trained me to be an agent in the first place. Without him, I don’t think I could have survived.”
“What caused him to change?”
Leon decided to plop onto the ground, his tail whipping in agitation along the dirt. You joined him, sitting cross-legged beside his slouched figure, waiting for him to say something.
“He was betrayed by the very country he fought to protect. His whole unit was wiped out and he was badly injured, unable to fight like he used to. He ended up going MIA and joined the cult. They infected him with the Plagas, too. I had to fight him. I had to—” he stopped to take a steadying breath, “I had to kill him. With that same blade. His blade.”
“I’m so sorry, Leon,” was all you could offer him, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently. He closed his claws into a fist and squeezed back.
“I buried Luis first,” he began. “Had to go into the mines to retrieve his body, ferry it out here. Then I went to the island on the other side of the castle to find Krauser. The whole place had collapsed in on itself, but I had hoped I could get to him. Dug in the rubble for days, but… couldn’t find a body. The knife is all I had left of him, so now it’s here.”
“I see,” you said quietly, staring down at the muddled reflection of Leon’s dirt-covered leg in the rusted blade. “Why’d you place their graves so far out of the way?”
“It’s secluded. Quiet. Peaceful,” he replied, head tilting towards the sky and closing his eyes. “Figured I would bury Wolfie here, too, when he eventually dies. Just thought it would be a good place to…”
You saw him swallow back his words.
“A good place to what?”
He sighed and shook his head before looking at you, those red eyes so hauntingly melancholy, it made your heart ache. “A good place to rest.”
The two of you sat quietly in the dirt, simply holding hands and watching the breeze ripple through the foliage surrounding you.
He’s right, you thought, comforted by the shade of trees, yet still able to make out the blue of the sky above, it is a good place to rest.
You knew Leon grieved the life he once lived, so evident in the way he carried himself—the way he spoke. But this kind of loss was news to you. You never realized just how much weight he carried.
You were determined to lighten the burden in any way you could.
“Come on,” you told him, finally standing. “We have one last stop, don’t we?”
He didn’t need your help to get to his feet, but he still took your outstretched hand, giving you a small, grateful smile when he towered over you once more. “Yeah. We do.”
Before you knew it, you were back on the motorboat, heading straight to the center of the lake for your last location.
You had seen the old, half-sunk fishing vessel from the shore, but wanted to explore it last for the hell of it. You were glad you made that decision, hoping that spending more time on the calm waters might lift Leon’s spirits.
He came to a stop at the port of the large wooden boat, gracefully exiting onto the dilapidated vessel before reaching his hand out and pulling you onto the algae-slick deck with him.
“Careful,” he warned, releasing his hold on you. “The boards are pretty damaged. Wouldn’t want you to fall through.”
“Yes, sir,” you teased, but you took your time walking around, just in case. You heard him chuckle as you shuffled slowly forward, giving him a lighthearted glare in response.
There really wasn’t much to see of the place, only able to access the front of it.
You leaned against the railing of the bow after a brief sweep of the area, looking out onto the blue, blue water. It was beautiful, and you could see why Leon would spend hours fishing out here beyond catching a meal or two.
You glanced over your shoulder at him, finding him leaning against the front of the cockpit, his eyes already on you. You wished you knew what he was thinking when he looked at you like that. You hid your blush by turning back around.
You placed your hands on the railing, a light giggle escaping you as a thought crossed your mind.
“What’s so funny?” he questioned, and you knew he was smiling without needing to face him.
You tapped your fingers on the wood. “You ever see the movie Titanic?”
He scoffed but didn’t answer, instead stepping closer. Before you knew what was happening, he had gently tugged your arms up, holding them in the air as he leaned down to place his chin on your shoulder. Your breath was caught in your throat by the proximity, his own tickling your cheek.
“Was this what you had in mind, bunny?” he asked you, voice low and teasing in a way that made your stomach flip. You kept your arms up as he slid his hands down to rest on your waist and you wondered if you would pass out from your inability to pull oxygen into your lungs.
You needed to get yourself together, so you forced out a nervous laugh before saying, “If only we had Celine Dion playing in the background. I think we’d be dead ringers for the remake.”
Leon laughed heartily. “I can’t imagine they’d do a remake of such a nineties classic.”
You giggled, turning slightly to meet his eye. “They remake everything these days.”
“Well, I don’t think I have what it takes to play Jack, but you’re pretty enough to go on the big screen.”
Oh.
That compliment made heat flood your whole body, though you didn’t want him to notice it. “What are you talking about? You’re practically Leo DiCaprio two-point-oh.”
“Mm, maybe ten years ago,” he mused, pulling away from you, to your chagrin. “C’mon, we should head back to the house.”
You pouted as you turned to face him. “But I don’t want to yet!”
“Well, there’s not much left to do out here,” he replied, as if coaxing you to follow his lead.
But that wasn’t exactly your style, now was it?
Instead, you let your hair down from its messy bun, kicked off your shoes and socks, and yanked your shirt over your head.
Leon’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as you stripped in front of him, pulling your jeans off and leaving yourself only in your underwear. You could tell he was trying not to stare, focusing solely on your face as he choked out, “What the hell are you doing?!”
Still, you saw his gaze drop to your bare skin. You felt utterly exposed, but you weren’t ashamed.
In fact, you felt good.
You felt free.
You sat on the railing of the boat, smiling wickedly at him as you flipped your legs over the edge. “I told you if I was going to have a swim, it wouldn’t be fully clothed, didn’t I?”
Before he could say anything else, you plunged into the water.
It was so cold, you locked up for a moment, your body shocked by the sudden change in temperature. You stayed under for a few seconds, willing yourself to adjust before breaching the surface.
You wiped the water from your eyes, blinking up at Leon as he hung off the bow of the boat. It looked like he was about to dive in after you, as if he was worried you wouldn’t come back up.
His concern for you warmed you right up.
“Are you serious?” he interrogated, breathing out a sigh of disbelief. “You said it was too cold to bathe out here, but you’ll take an afternoon swim?”
“Definitely too cold for a bath,” you replied, nodding sagely. “But you should still come join me!”
“Absolutely not. You’re crazy, you know that?”
You smiled, all teeth. “What was your first clue, sweetheart?”
He scoffed. “You showing up here in the first place, probably.”
“So…” you began, “you should learn to expect the unexpected. And jump in. I know the cold doesn’t bother you, Leon.”
He sighed, staring over at the shore for a moment before turning to face you once more. “Fine.”
You whooped in victory as he stepped back from the railing, and then bit your lip as you watched him pull off his shirt, revealing his lean, taut upper body. His legs were obscured by the boat as he tore his pants from them, but you got a good look when he leapt onto the ledge of the bow. You had to crane your neck to take in all of him, grazing your eyes up his muscled form, covered only by boxer briefs.
Before you could stare for too long, he dove into the water behind you, and you covered your eyes as it splashed up in a small wave.
He quickly rose to the surface, flipping his blond hair from his face.
“See? Not so bad,” you told him, paddling closer to where he was treading.
“Guess not.”
You were about to speak again when you felt something large slither along your leg. You yelped, pulling your body away from the sensation. “Oh my god, something just touched me!”
Leon shrugged. “Probably just a fish.”
“No, no, it was definitely a snake!” you told him, eyes staring down as if you could see into the dark water.
“It’s possible. There’re vipers in the area, I told you that before.” He seemed to be taking joy in your distress and you glared at him angrily for it.
“Leon, if that’s true, I need out RIGHT now.”
You began to swim towards the motorboat, suddenly very over this whole situation, when something touched your leg again. You screamed as it wrapped around your ankle, pulling you under the water.
You weren’t under for very long, whatever it was almost immediately releasing you. You sputtered as you pushed your head above the surface, panicking.
But then you heard Leon laughing hysterically nearby, and the realization that he was just screwing with you hit you like a brick.
“Oh, you asshole!” you yelled, wading back over to him and shoving his chest in rage.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just had to,” he told you between laughs.
“Yeah, you will be.” With that, you splashed his face with water, feeling smug that you got him before he could use his arm as a shield.
You splashed him a few more times until he lunged toward you, grabbing your arms, “Okay, we’re even now. Happy?”
He released you and you pretended to think about it for a moment, easing closer. Your faces were mere inches apart, and you wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss him. You weren’t sure how the action would even work, considering his protruding fangs, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to find out.
He seemed to edge nearer, and you wondered if he had the same idea.
But your nerves got the better of you.
Instead, you jumped up and shoved his shoulders down, dunking him completely under the water.
It was your turn to laugh as he came back up, his wet hair covering his eyes. “Now I’d say we’re even.”
He pushed the strands from his face and shook his head, chuckling. “Yeah, I deserved that.”
Before you could say something else, the sky seemed to darken suddenly. You still had a couple hours of daylight left, so you glanced up, confused. You saw that clouds had converged over the sun, looking awfully heavy.
Something splattered against your forehead, and you wiped it off, realizing it was a raindrop. Several more began to fall on and around you, and you knew it was time to head back to shore.
You and Leon quickly got dressed as the sprinkle of rain turned into a steady shower, dampening your once-dry clothes. Still, you made the time to glance at Leon’s cute butt as he leaned down to pull up his pants, and when you turned to put on your own, you could feel his eyes on you too.
Thankfully, Leon decided to head back to the cave, the rain only coming down harder as you finally entered it. Leon moored the boat, and the two of you hurried through to the quarry.
A flash of light streaked across the sky as you reached the church, the echoing BOOM that followed it making you jump out of your skin. You must’ve looked like a wet chihuahua with how you shook, both from the sound and the cold rain seeping down to the bone.
Leon turned to face you, his expression concerned. He got close, placing his palms against your arms. “You’re freezing. C’mon, let’s get you home.”
Despite your misery, you couldn’t help but feel warmed by his words.
Let’s get you home.
He said it like it was yours, too.
He grabbed your hand, tugging you along as you rushed back to his place, knowing it was still quite a trek.
You finally made it to the house, and you doubled over as soon as you crossed the threshold, panting heavily from practically jogging the whole way. You were shivering violently, your teeth chattering as you finally caught your breath, when you felt Leon lay his hand across your back.
“Hey, you should get changed. I’ll start a fire,” he urged, eyes soft as he looked at you.
You nodded, doing as he said, wringing your drenched clothes over the tub before hanging them on the sides of it.
Feeling slightly better, you went back into the main room, seeing that Leon had pushed the dining table over and moved the couch in front of the fireplace, where a stack of logs was piled in the hearth.
He was struggling with the matches again, so you gently took them from his hands, alighting the kindling yourself. He simply nodded at you before you sat down on the couch and reached your hands towards the slowly growing flames.
“You’re soaked,” you told him. “Go change. I’ll make dinner when we warm up.”
He smiled down at you as he stood, stroking the top of your head. You never wanted him to stop. “Be right back, then.”
You were finally losing the chill as he returned, sitting down beside you, his tail draped between you on the seat.
Another loud crash of lightning made you cry out, flinching.
“Whoa, there,” he said softly. “You okay?”
You grimaced. “Yeah, I’m not… the biggest fan of storms. I like the rain when I’m cozied up inside, but thunder and lightning… I don’t know. It freaks me out.”
“So you’re afraid of heights, snakes, and storms. Anything else I should know about?” he asked lightheartedly.
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not afraid of heights, just falling off a shoddy bridge, thank you very much. And snakes only scare me when they’re venomous and I think they’re slithering around my leg.”
His tail flicked up as you stared pointedly at it, the movement incredibly cute to you. He could really be just like a cat sometimes.
“I stand corrected. Just storms, then,” he teased.
The conversation flowed to other things, but looking around, you realized with sudden concern that Leon’s dog wasn’t nearby. “Hey, where’s Wolfie? Was he upstairs?”
Leon’s brows furrowed at that, standing and glancing around the room. “No… he wasn’t. He usually doesn’t stay out when it storms.”
“Is he okay?” you questioned.
Leon crossed his arms. “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe staying somewhere out of the rain.”
You nodded, though you worried for the poor dog’s safety.
As you promised, you made dinner—a roast, actually—and you had never seen Leon so excited by something you had cooked thus far (though he wouldn’t touch the potatoes, onions, and carrots that simmered alongside it).
As you worked on washing dishes, you saw Leon staring out of one of the windows, and you knew he was looking for Wolfie. You finished the chore, walking into the main room to stand beside him.
“He’s never been gone this long,” Leon stated with a frown.
You worried your bottom lip. “Maybe… Maybe we should go find him.”
Leon glanced at you, then, brow raised. “I’ll go find him. You should stay here.”
“No way,” you argued, already pulling on your hiking boots. “I’m not letting you go out there alone.”
“You could catch a cold, and that bear is still around. Besides, you hate the thunder and lightning, and it's only getting worse.”
“Well, I’m worried about him too. I want to help.”
He sighed as you stood upright, seeing the determination in your eyes. “Fine, but dress warm.”
You nodded vigorously. “I have a raincoat and a jacket, don’t worry.”
You quickly ran to your luggage, throwing on your hoodie, sliding the raincoat over it, and grabbing your flashlight from your backpack.
You met Leon at the door, the two of you heading out into the dark.
You kept your arm braced above your brows to block the rain from your eyes, the hoods of your jacket and coat pulled over your head still not enough to prevent the onslaught, raking your flashlight over the ground as you and Leon called Wolfie’s name.
You didn’t know how long you were in the storm, and although the clothes on your top half helped to keep you dry and warm, your legs were getting soaked through. You pushed past the discomfort, your concern for Leon’s animal companion taking precedence.
The look of worry on his face was compelling enough to keep moving forward on its own.
You were near the church again, calling out the dog’s name as loud as you could, getting desperate to find him safe, when you heard Leon gasp beside you.
“What?” you questioned.
“This way,” was all he responded, bounding through the woods at a speed you could barely keep up with.
Leon was taking you deep into the forest, and you could focus on little else but his darting form as you followed him, afraid to be left behind in the dark.
You thought you were gaining on him when you tripped over a root, cutting your knee as you fell to the ground, hard. You were quick to pick yourself back up, sprinting after him and gritting your teeth against the pain.
You lost him, though, the realization filling you with panic. You just continued running in the direction you saw him taking off, calling after him frantically.
The thunder rumbled deafeningly from above, making you cower in fright, but you knew you had to keep going. The darkness seemed to encroach upon you, the torrent of rain pelting against your whole body hard enough to hurt.
You don’t think you had ever felt this afraid.
To your relief, you finally caught up to Leon, but it was short-lived when you took in what was ahead of you.
Leon was crouched over, and you could hear him muttering in distress. Before him was Wolfie, laying motionless on his side, four streaks of dark red seeping out of his white fur.
You rushed forward, dropping onto your injured knee, not caring how badly it stung as you assessed the animal in front of you. He was still breathing, thankfully, and letting out quiet little whimpers. The wounds looked deep as you appraised them, wondering what could have done this to him.
As if reading your mind, Leon growled, “It was that damn bear.”
You didn’t respond as he stripped his shirt off, easily ripping it into strips. They were soaked through with rain, but it was better than nothing.
“Here buddy,” Leon reassured Wolfie as he grabbed his own tail.
“What are you doing?”
Ignoring you, he gently pricked the barbed end into the dog’s side, who yelped and writhed at the feeling before near-instantly relaxing.
“Kills the pain,” is all he offered as you looked at him in shock. He then shoved the strips of cloth into your hands. “I’m gonna lift him up and I want you to wrap these around him, okay?”
He’d only ever been this serious when protecting you from that bear two days prior, and you swallowed before nodding in response.
You began to carefully slide the first strip over one of the gashes, about to tie it off, when Leon interjected, “Tight, but not too tight.”
“Got it,” you said, fingers shaking as you followed his direction for each wound. You weren’t sure if it was the cold or the nerves but you managed it well enough.
When you were done, Leon stood. Wolfie was held in his arms, the dog’s blood smearing against his bare chest. It made your stomach twist with unease.
“I have bandages in my first-aid kit,” you told him as he began the trek back to the path, trying to keep up with his long, hurried gait.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Leon said. “We can change the bandages, but I don’t know if he’s… I don’t know if he’ll make it.”
You couldn’t reply, tears pricking your eyes at the thought.
Leon’s voice wavered as he continued, “I know he’s old. I knew I’d lose him eventually. But not like this. Not this soon…”
You pushed back your tears, sadness giving way to conviction. “After we replace the bandages, I’m gonna take him to the vet, okay? You’ll have to carry him to my car, but I think if we’re fast, we can do this.”
“What if he dies on the way there?” Leon asked miserably, “I don’t want to be away from him in his last moments.”
“I know it’s a risk, but we have a real chance of saving him, Leon. You told me to trust you yesterday, right? Well, now I need you to trust me.”
He seemed so conflicted but eventually nodded, his features solemn. “Okay. I’ll trust you.”
You reached over and squeezed his arm comfortingly.
God, I hope I’m right about this.
+++
It had been a long time since Leon felt this afraid.
He had lost everything once, and was forced to spend a decade trying to survive the hole that loss gouged out of him. Just a void sitting inside his chest, the edges slowly creeping out to devour what was left.
Wolfie had been there for him in ways humans never were. Even when he wasn’t this grotesque monstrosity, he would rather die than burden someone else with his innate brokenness, preferring to mask it with his need to help or his oftentimes cynical sense of humor.
The truth of the matter? He didn’t know who he was when he wasn’t useful to someone. When he wasn’t a protector. He had never felt so unmoored, going without this self-imposed purpose to drive him forward.
Wolfie had renewed that purpose a month after his transformation, when Leon was at his lowest. He limped up to him with a swollen leg after being bit by a viper, clearly recognizing him despite his mutated features. He had done all he could to nurse the poor dog back to health, and Wolfie hadn’t left his side since.
He sometimes wondered if it was fate that brought them together again—if he allowed himself to believe in something beyond the mundane—but he had renounced god and any other spiritual bullshit ages ago.
He looked down at the dog in his arms, no longer in pain due to his venom’s painkilling properties, but his breaths were still concerningly shallow. He wanted nothing more than to sprint full speed back to the house but worried the movement would only exacerbate Wolfie’s injuries.
He wasn’t completely sure he was okay with letting you take his dog from him—not wanting to miss any precious time he might have left—but he agreed that it was worth a shot to bring him to the vet clinic, even if he couldn’t join you.
He glanced over at you, your teeth gnawing into your bottom lip as you silently walked beside him, and was at least glad you were here with him in this nightmare. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to do this alone.
Eventually, you made it to the house, and he moved aside to let you open the door for him. You both rushed into the building, you grabbing your first-aid kit and a pair of scissors.
You were quick to find the proper bandages, and Leon just held Wolfie’s body out so you could cut off the bloodied strips of his shirt and re-wrap the wounds. Your hands were shaking, but you were careful and methodical, so he didn’t comment on it.
When you finished, you grabbed a blanket and a towel, laying them on the dining table so Leon could bundle the dog tightly inside to protect him from the rain. It was a bit of a walk to the hunting lodge, after all.
You moved away to wash your hands and find your car keys, but Leon could only stare down at your leg as you came back into the room. There were mud and grass stains, which he expected, though he was caught off guard by the knee of your jeans being torn, bright red trickling down your shin in a small but steady stream.
“What happened to your leg?” he questioned, unable to recall when you could have gotten the injury.
“Oh, it's nothing. I just tripped when I was chasing after you. Nearly lost you completely because of it, but I found you pretty fast,” you told him nonchalantly as you packed your bag.
He felt his stomach drop at your words, realizing that he hadn’t once looked back to check on you during his mad dash to find Wolfie. The thought that you were hurt and lost in the middle of the woods during a storm that scared you, and he just left you there, making bile rise to his throat.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I should have waited for you… I didn’t even know you weren’t behind me anymore…”
You shook your head, smiling at him, but the expression couldn’t hide the exhaustion in your eyes. “It’s okay, I promise. You were worried about Wolfie. I don’t blame you.”
“It’s not okay,” he seethed, his own self-hatred pooling into his chest. “I left you alone in a storm! In the dark! What if that bear was still around, huh? It could have killed you and I left you there, with nothing to defend yourself with!”
“Leon, I’m fine. Nothing happened beyond this little cut.” Your voice was calm and he wished he could hate it. Hate you for how you could talk him into or out of almost anything.
It had been mere days. He didn’t know you, and yet he trusted you implicitly. Trusted you with the life of his only companion.
And then, when he asked you to trust in him, he had sabotaged it in an instant.
He didn’t respond, knowing he might say something he’d regret, so he only watched as you quickly rolled up your pant leg to blot and disinfect the cut. He disliked seeing you in pain, witnessing the way your face screwed up as you used peroxide on the small wound—heard the hiss you made as it bubbled up on your broken skin.
You were wrapping one of the extra bandages over it when Leon looked out the window, the storm only hitting harder as the hours passed. “Maybe we should wait it out. You shouldn’t be driving in this.”
You sighed as you unrolled the leg of your jeans, walking over to stare into the dark with him. “Under normal circumstances, you couldn’t pay me to go out in this weather. But I don’t think we have time to waste, Leon.”
You both glanced over at Wolfie on the table, wrapped up and hopefully comfortable in the blanket. Leon had no choice in this if he didn’t want to lose his dog.
He was meant to protect him and now he was sending him off with someone most people would call a stranger.
Any quality of his that could be halfway useful in this situation, and he wasn’t even there when Wolfie was attacked. And now his only companion was bleeding out on his dining table and he could do nothing to stop it but put him in someone else’s care and hope he lived.
Leon had all this strength, all these heightened senses. His entire body was deemed a weapon. And yet he couldn’t even save his dog.
What was the point of any of it, then?
And what would he have done if you weren’t there to help him? Watch Wolfie slowly die, helpless to prevent it?
Worse still, what if it was you who had been attacked?
He imagined your lifeless body lying in his arms, frightened eyes wide and staring off into nothing, drenched in blood that wouldn’t stop pouring out of you, and he could do absolutely. Fucking. Nothing.
“Come on, Leon. We have to go,” came your gentle voice, pulling him out of his dark thoughts.
He only nodded in response, grabbing Wolfie and heading back out into the downpour, beyond the safety of his home.
The two of you trudged in silence through the village, the storm raging above your heads. He could practically sense your anxiety coming off of you in waves, but you were doing your best to remain stoic. He didn’t know if it was to calm yourself or him, but he appreciated the attempt.
Finally, you made it to the hunter’s lodge, and you spoke up as soon as the door shut out the torrent. “I was wondering, how did you know where Wolfie was? Back there in the forest?”
“The storm dampened it, but I could hear him whimpering from the path. When I got close enough, I could smell the blood.”
“Right, super senses. Thank god for ‘em.”
He glanced at you sharply. “I’d rather have stopped him from getting hurt in the first place.”
“Hey, I know this sucks, but he’s alive and he’s going to stay that way if I have a say in it.”
He really took you in at that. Your face was wet, strands of your hair sticking to your forehead, but the fire in your eyes…
He had no way to know if things would work out the way you wanted, but your conviction—your unyielding, infectious hope—quelled the needling fear, if only for a moment.
He might not believe in god, but angels must be real if you were standing beside him.
You made it to the car shortly after, Leon gently placing Wolfie into the backseat as you threw your bag into the passenger side and sat behind the wheel.
You turned the ignition, the vehicle roaring to life as Leon looked down at you, urging, “Please be careful. I might lose Wolfie, but I can’t lose you too.”
“I will be. I promise.” Before you closed the door, you glanced back up at him, asking, “What are you going to do while we’re gone?”
He clenched his clawed hands into fists, feeling the sharp edges dig into his skin as he grated out, “I’m going to kill that fucking bear.”
You looked shocked by his words but nodded in agreement. “Okay. Good luck.”
And with that, you closed the door.
Leon stepped back to let you drive off, knowing that the fate of his companion was out of his hands.
He exhaled harshly and turned on his heels, ready for the hunt.
Now this is what he was good for.
Shifting onto all fours, Leon was quick to shed his more human qualities for the sake of the kill, sprinting faster than he ever had on his legs alone. He focused solely on his senses to direct him through the downpour and to his prey, feeling his claws digging into the wet earth below.
As he had told you earlier, the storm dampened his abilities, but that wouldn’t stop him from reaching his objective.
In fact, it only made him more hellbent on completing it.
It took him nearly an hour to find where the massive animal was lurking: a cave not far from where he had found Wolfie bleeding into the mud.
Despite its size, there was not much of a fight as Leon latched those deadly teeth of his around its throat and ripped. It barely had time to even register him launching at it before it was wheezing and choking on its own blood.
In this form, Leon was too proficient at killing. A part of him—deep, deep down—wanted to take his time tearing the beast limb from limb, listen to it roar and whine in agony before he finally put it out of its misery.
When its jilted movements eventually stilled, blood coating the cave floor and Leon from his mouth to the knees of his dirty pants, he stumbled back into the wall and closed his eyes tightly.
Vengeance. It was something he understood, but he didn’t see the point of it. Blood for blood’s sake never sat right with him. He only sought to kill out of necessity—to survive.
And yet, here he was, bloodlust finally fading as the bear’s large corpse laid before his weary gaze.
He could pretend all he wanted that this was an act of protection, a means to prevent further attacks in the future, but the sadistic glee he felt when his teeth sunk into warm flesh… there was nothing to excuse that.
This bear was simply living as it was born to do, even in its aggression.
Maybe Leon really was losing his humanity. Not a descent into a mindless killing machine, but a dissipation of self—fully aware of his own cruelty, but basking in it instead of rebuking it.
He wasn’t sure which version scared him most.
He had to make this worth it, then. He had to alleviate this burning shame and break apart the guilt sitting heavy in his gut like a stone.
And so, with care, he carved up the carcass of the once dignified beast and devoured it, leaving only bones and fur in his wake.
It was the only form of reverence he could convey.
He dug a shallow hole in the mud beside the cave, laying the gory remains inside before covering it once more.
The storm had finally started to clear as he finished the task, the scent of petrichor not quite able to hide that of blood.
Unsure of how long it would take for you to return with news of Wolfie’s condition, he rushed over to the hunter’s lodge to wait out the hours.
They passed slowly. Agonizingly. All he could do was curl in on himself and sit just inside the door of the old building, wet with rain and blood and mud.
He once thought his initial transformation was the worst he had ever felt, that it was rock bottom. Before that, it had been what transpired in this village. And before that, it had been the disaster of Raccoon City.
He realized bitterly there was always further to fall.
He wasn’t sure why you were so adamant to befriend him like this. To help him. Was this pity? Was Leon some charity case for you?
But then he thought of the way you smiled at him, the look on your face as he joined you in the cold water of the lake, the way you drifted to him like you were caught in his orbit and couldn’t fight the pull.
The thought that maybe, just maybe, you felt the way he did… it was a jolt across his slumped form.
However, nothing could change what he was. His nature, it was a vicious one. And someday, you might not survive the animal that unfurled inside of him—through him.
Whatever happened after tonight, he knew one thing: his only escape was death.
He would simply wait out the end of your trip, selfishly wanting to wring out any joy he might find in your company, and if Wolfie survived the night, he would send him home with you to live out the rest of his days. He was certain you would take good care of him, provide for him better than Leon could ever hope.
But, he was reminded, Wolfie might not survive.
And it was Leon’s neglect that was to blame.
Useless, useless, useless, he repeated like a mantra in his head.
He never imagined he’d have more to lose than he already did. More to ruin.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, the dawn breaking up the night. The sun’s warmth upon his skin did little to lighten his mood—as it burned more than soothed—but then he thought of the way your soft flesh felt against his and he nearly fell into a dream, eyes drifting shut.
He shot up suddenly at the sound of an approaching vehicle, though, his misery morphing into an all-consuming apprehension.
Was he prepared to grieve?
Your car finally pulled up near the lodge, and he rushed to the side of it, his heart palpitating as he stared into the backseat window.
He saw Wolfie laying there, breathing slow and steady.
He was alive.
Leon had never felt so relieved.
He turned to face you as you opened the door, looking up at him with tired eyes.
Your expression turned to full-blown concern when you took in his appearance, reaching out to touch the blood staining his bare chest. “Are you okay?”
Leon placed his fingers over your hand, holding it close to him, the warmth of it more of a balm than the sun ever was. “I’m fine. It isn’t mine.”
You sighed, eased by his words. “You found the bear, I take it?”
He nodded solemnly. “It won’t bother us anymore.” You didn’t reply and he looked back at Wolfie’s unconscious form once more. “How did everything go? Will he be alright?”
“It went great. He got stitches and a blood transfusion, and they kept him overnight for observation. Went ahead and got him a few shots when they said he was in the clear this morning. He took it all like a champ.” You dropped your hand, to Leon’s chagrin, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. “They told me to change his bandages every few hours and monitor for any infection. Gave me antibiotics and a few days' worth of painkillers. He should be just fine.”
“What did you tell them about the injury?” he questioned, suddenly concerned by what information you might have let slip in your distress.
“Don’t worry, I told them he got attacked while I was out camping. No specifics, I promise.” A look of realization then dawned on your features, to his confusion, before you began sifting through your bag.
You then pulled out a blue collar from its depths. It jingled as you held it up to Leon, shot tags dangling behind a bone-shaped one at the front, sporting the dog’s name and what he assumed was your number.
“Picked this up before I took him from the clinic. Hope he’ll wear it,” you said, shrugging as you stood from the car.
A flood of emotions washed over Leon, then, namely an overwhelming sense of gratitude for what you had done for him. It went deeper than the collar in your hand, deeper than even saving his dog.
You had faced a storm for him, soaked to the bone and afraid. You suffered being lost in darkness with an injured knee, even if it was only briefly. You drove through a torrent and stayed up all night to make sure his companion would live. You witnessed him covered in blood and filth and you reached out…
You were always reaching out.
Before he could think it through, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. He felt your plush body pressed against his hard edges—heard the way you gasped in shock. You almost immediately settled into it, though, holding him in turn despite the drying grime flaking onto your clothes.
“Thank you, for everything,” he murmured, face buried into your neck, the natural smell of you drifting to his nose. It was all at once sweet and grounding.
There was so much more he wanted to say, but this would have to suffice, the words caught in his throat.
“I’d do it all again in a heartbeat,” you whispered, your small hands sliding across his back soothingly.
The warmth of you made him ache, made his eyes burn, never wanting to let you go.
He knew he must.
The walk back to the house was a silent one, the only sounds the rainwater dripping onto the ground and the squelching of mud underfoot, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The two of you were just exhausted and still reeling from how the night had spiraled to near tragedy.
Leon glanced down at Wolfie’s sleeping form in his arms, so drugged up on pain meds he likely wouldn’t wake for anything. He gave the dog’s head a gentle stroke, beyond relieved that, for now, it wouldn’t be the last time.
The three of you entered Leon’s home, deciding that you would bring Wolfie’s bed and blankets downstairs, nestling them beside the fireplace to keep him comfortable and prevent him from exerting himself more than necessary once he was up and moving again.
Once the dog was settled in, Leon could only stand and stare, worried that if he took his eyes off of him for a moment, he might die in his absence.
“I’ll make you up a bath, Leon,” you said quietly from the kitchen, already bringing a large pot to boil on the stove. “You could really use one.”
He sighed, finally dragging his gaze from Wolfie so that he could level it on you. “Don’t worry about that. I can just clean up at the lake.”
You huffed indignantly, approaching him and taking him in—in all his filthy, monstrous glory. “No way. You need a nice hot bath, and that’s that.”
“You’re stubborn as hell, you know that?” he replied, scoffing good-naturedly. In truth, the thought of you caring for him like this made his heart beat a little faster.
“Oh, I know,” you said with a smile, one that was so sweet, he would hold on to the sight of it for the rest of his life, “but it’s what you like about me.”
He found himself chuckling for the first time since last night, always so surprised by your ability to pull him out of his misery.
“Not the only thing,” he said lowly, fingers twitching at his sides to reach out and touch you again.
Your cheeks flushed pink at his words, but you shook your head and laughed. “Go on, sit down for a bit while I finish what I started.”
He wanted to argue—to assist you in your task—because being waited on like this was something he had never been used to. Instead, he did as he was told, plopping down next to Wolfie on the floor and petting him to pass the time.
He had almost fallen asleep again, unable to fight his eyes from drooping closed, when you called to him, informing him his bath was ready. He stood and stretched, yawning as he met you at the entrance of the side room.
“Here,” you told him, a pile of his clothes, a towel, and a washcloth in your arms, “knock yourself out. Well, don’t really.”
He took them gratefully, smiling at your ridiculous comment as he thanked you and disappeared behind the corner.
He quickly shed what was left of his tattered clothes, dropping them haphazardly onto the floor before stepping into the tub and lowering himself in the water.
It was hot, but it didn’t burn. In fact, it was rather soothing as it lapped at his skin. The tub was almost too small for him, however, his knees peeking out of the water from having to fold his long legs.
It was cramped but not completely uncomfortable. He sunk in a little further, letting out a pleased sigh.
This was definitely better than the lake, that was for sure.
Before he could relax fully, he caught sight of something on the side table next to him. He turned his head and instantly regretted it.
It was a makeup mirror you had brought, and it was angled in a way he could stare directly at his own reflection.
It made him flinch.
He didn’t look away, however, gritting his teeth against the image of himself he had loathed from the moment he transformed. But not only was he faced with his monstrous visage once more, he could now see the blood and dirt caked onto his skin, exposing him for what he truly was.
Something that was meant to kill.
He fought the urge to shatter the glass, not wanting to destroy something that belonged to you, instead leaning over and turning it away.
As he laid back in the water and began scrubbing the grime from his body with the rag you had provided for him, a barrage of thoughts overtook his tired mind, all of them relating to you.
He couldn’t bear to look at himself, yet you rarely took your eyes off of him.
He was disgusted by his own existence and the form he was forced to live in, yet you treated him like he was normal. Like he was a person.
He quickly finished bathing, the water starting to cool, but he was in no rush to leave, allowing himself this moment of peace and to think.
He rested his clawed hand against his chest and could still feel where your small palm had been placed there, could still feel the way your flesh gave under his tight hold when had embraced you. The warmth that radiated from your very being.
His hand lowered mindlessly as he lingered on the image of you stripping bare to him on that boat, offering him your impish little smirk and batted lashes over twinkling eyes.
It lowered further as he thought of your lips, wondered how they’d feel against his skin—how soft they would be.
He hissed as his hand gently wrapped around the base of his cock, almost shocked to feel it was already achingly hard.
Leon couldn’t remember the last time he had touched himself like this.
In the beginning, he worried he would hurt himself, what with the small daggers that were his new fingers. Eventually, he dared to wander—carefully, of course—and soon it was one of the few things human left of him, to have this libido to relieve. But as the years passed and his body changed, he hardly had the urge.
And now here he was, fisting his cock at the thought of you.
He held back a groan as he slid his thumb across his slit, imagining it was your tongue instead.
He could picture your pretty eyes looking up at him as you took him into your mouth, how you’d tease him with kitten licks and the gentle scrape of your teeth until he was begging you for more, how you’d pull away just to level him with that mischievous smirk you wore so well before you’d cave and take him to the hilt.
Leon gasped as he picked up the speed of his pumping fist, lifting his hips above the cooled water, trying to avoid sloshing it onto the floor with the motion.
He then thought of your cunt, how sweet it would taste as he laved it with his tongue—mused about what precious little sounds he could pull from those plush, kissable lips of yours. He could almost feel how your fingers would card through his hair, yank it to get him closer to where you wanted him; how he’d tease you the way you did him before finally conceding, your desperation for him almost more delicious than the very essence of you that he fed upon.
He grit his teeth as he neared the edge, fighting to hold back.
Too soon. It was too soon.
He paused his movements, taking in a slow deep breath to calm his rapidly beating heart, letting the wave of pleasure that nearly crested over him fade to a lapping tide.
His mind slipped back into his fantasy, then, needing to finish what he started before he was driven mad with desire.
He imagined you underneath him now, bodies flush together, the head of his cock sliding against you—not a taunt but a preparation for what was to come.
He wondered how tight you’d be as he pushed inside, how warm and wet and inviting, squeezing his hand as he emulated the scene from his head.
How well would you take him?
Although much of his body had changed over the years—grown—what sat beneath his belt had not. This was not a concern for him, however, having been well-endowed even for a human man of his former stature. In fact, he almost seemed more… proportionate… now.
Would he be too much?
Or would you plead for him to go harder and faster? Deeper?
Leon couldn’t stop the near growl that escaped him as he imagined the way you’d cry out into the crook of his neck, his name like a breathless prayer against his skin. He could feel you wrap your legs around him, scraping your nails across his spine hard enough to draw blood.
He was on the precipice once more, but this time he didn’t hold back.
He thought of you looking into his eyes as you came undone beneath him, wide and full of unshed tears, overwhelmed by the euphoria coursing through you. His body shuttered at the idea of your walls tightening impossibly around him, pulsing and wet.
He managed to bite back the whine that clawed up his throat as his cock twitched, his seed spurting across his chest and stomach.
He collapsed back into the tub, his mind so gloriously blank and full of fuzzy warmth as he caught his breath.
And then the realization hit him.
He had just masturbated. To you. While you were just on the other side of the wall, without even a door to fully separate the room.
He was flooded with remorse, then, wondering if he had managed to keep quiet enough so that you wouldn’t hear or suspect his reckless sin against you.
He stilled, listening intently to any sounds in the house, his inhuman ears able to pick out the overlapping breaths of you and Wolfie over the whistling wind outside, right there in the dining room.
He swallowed the lump of shame that formed in his throat and roughly wiped the spend from his flesh, the harsh scrape of coarse fabric a small punishment for his transgression.
As he dried himself and changed into sleepwear, he wondered how disgusted you’d be with him if you knew just what he was thinking.
Surely, you’d never look at him the same.
He wanted to blame his exhaustion from a sleepless night, but he knew deep down this was bound to happen eventually. Your very existence was a temptation to him, after all.
He took a steadying breath before he finally turned the corner to face you, pleasantly surprised and more than a little relieved that you were fast asleep, curled up on his couch with a blanket draped across your legs.
He smiled softly as he approached you, all worry forgotten as a swell of affection replaced it.
You looked so sweet laying there, head resting upon the pillow you must have brought from upstairs and your pressed hands, your breaths puffing out a strand of hair hanging over your mouth. Leon quietly chuckled as he tucked it behind your ear and pulled the blanket up and around your shoulders to keep you warm before standing upright once more.
He knew as he gazed upon you that regardless of whether you returned his feelings or not, his own might never leave him. He would have to make his peace with that.
He sighed, closing his eyes tightly before opening them once more, deciding that was a problem for later.
He then sat beside Wolfie, checking on him briefly before laying down right there on the floor, exhaustion overtaking any real need for comfort. Not like he hadn’t done it the first night of your arrival, anyway.
As he drifted into a deep slumber…
He couldn’t help but dream of you.
+++
The night had been a long one.
You had sat in the emergency room of the vet clinic with Wolfie for hours, watching as they tried to keep him alive.
You would never get the image of his terrified eyes out of your head, looking to you for help or for comfort as people he didn’t know surrounded him while he couldn’t even move.
You didn’t let your tears escape until they told you he was stable, locking yourself in their bathroom across the hall and sobbing into your hands, the events of the night finally catching up to you.
He would live.
You weren’t sure you could forgive yourself if he didn’t. You wondered if Leon would have.
Oh, Leon, you thought worriedly, I hope you’re okay.
You wished you could get ahold of him somehow to let him know Wolfie was alive, aware of the fact that even if he owned a cell phone, the village had no service anyway. You were half tempted to drive out to see him and tell him the news, but you didn’t want to leave Wolfie alone for that long.
You then recalled the bear and Leon’s promise to kill it, hoping desperately it didn’t hurt him. You didn’t know what you’d do if you drove back just to find him bleeding out in the mud like he had found Wolfie, the thought piercing your heart like a bullet.
To calm yourself, you replayed the day in your head, focusing only on all the good parts.
You thought of how he opened up to you at his friends’ graves, how he held your hand as you sat in the dirt together.
You thought of how he slipped his palms across your waist on the boat, how he spoke so lowly in your ear, how your faces got so close in the water.
You thought of how he stroked your hair while you sat by the fireplace, the affection so freely given it was as if he couldn’t stop himself from touching you.
You thought about how concerned he was for you when you returned to the house after finding Wolfie, how he was upset you had gotten hurt and lost in the woods and blamed himself.
And then you thought of what he said before you left for town:
“I might lose Wolfie, but I can’t lose you too.”
Those words were looping in your brain over and over.
You knew he was just concerned with your safety, that he’d probably feel guilty if something happened to you while you were trying to save his dog, but the way he said it… The way he looked at you…
“I can’t lose you.”
It was like he meant it.
Despite your anxiety, you managed to nap a bit on the bench outside of the observation room, asking the veterinarian to wake you when Wolfie came to.
In the morning, while he was still out cold, you took a brief stroll outside of the clinic, making your way into the neighboring pet shop to bide the time.
As you passed the shelves of toys and supplies, your eyes caught on a large blue collar, realizing that it was about Wolfie’s size. You held it aloft as you considered buying it, thinking it was almost silly to put a collar on a half-feral dog.
But then you thought of the other outsiders that might appear in the village every so often. You worried they might dog-nap Wolfie for his friendliness or kill him for his intimidating appearance, deciding it may be worth the purchase, just in case.
Besides, Leon seemed drawn to the color blue, if the majority of his shirts and his preference regarding the castle’s art was anything to go by. It was oddly endearing imagining the scorpion man and his wolf-dog matching in such a way.
After buying it and getting an engraved name tag, you returned to the clinic, petting Wolfie and offering him soft words of encouragement as the vet gave him some much-needed shots.
The rain finally subsided as you made your way back to the village, your nerves still alight despite Wolfie’s improved condition.
When you finally pulled up to the dirt road near the lodge, you were overjoyed to see Leon appear beside the car.
Your heart was in your throat, however, when got a good look at him, his face and still-shirtless torso covered in dirt and so much blood.
You couldn’t stop the instinctual need to touch him, reaching out and placing your hand against his stained chest. “Are you okay?”
He gently laid his clawed fingers across your knuckles, pressing your palm into his skin, as if your very being was a solace to him. “I’m fine. It isn’t mine.”
Your relief at that was palpable, beyond overjoyed that he was perfectly safe. Though, the blood had to come from somewhere, and it wasn’t all Wolfie’s. “You found the bear, I take it?”
Leon’s eyes seemed to darken, but he nodded, replying, “It won’t bother us anymore.”
The answer was jarringly cryptic, and Leon seemed more upset to admit he killed the bear than you would have thought, considering how eager he was to do it before you left.
You shook away your thoughts as he asked you questions, the conversation turning to Wolfie’s health.
You then recalled your purchase at the pet store, pulling it out of your bag and waving it in front of Leon. “Picked this up before I took him from the clinic. Hope he’ll wear it.”
You stood from the car, ready to get back to the house and take a nice, long nap, when Leon wrapped his arms around you, to your utter shock.
He held you close to him, the strength of it enough to feel your bodies meld together, but not enough to hurt you.
It took you a moment to register it all, short-circuiting at the feeling of him against you, but you eventually hugged him in return, shivering as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck and let his breath fan across your skin.
“Thank you. For everything.” His voice was tight in his throat and it made your heart ache to hear it.
It was the least you could do, a part of you deep down blaming yourself for what happened to Wolfie, because you had kept Leon out longer than he wanted. What if Wolfie had only been in the woods waiting for the two of you to come back? Maybe if you had agreed to return to the house before the storm hit, none of this would have happened to begin with.
Instead of saying that, you only replied, “I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”
It was still the truth, as you would do anything to protect this half-man and his dog—willing to suffer more than just a nasty cut and a sleepless night if it meant they were safe.
Leon pulled away, to your despair, and grabbed Wolfie, the three of you heading back to the house.
As you set up Wolfie near the fireplace, you couldn’t help but notice the way Leon wouldn’t take his eyes off the sleeping dog, and although you understood it, he needed to wash the blood and grime from his body and get some much-needed rest.
If your night had been rough, you couldn’t imagine what his had been like.
He argued against you making him up a hot bath, but you wouldn’t hear it, telling him your decision was final.
“You’re stubborn as hell, you know that?” he said in faux annoyance.
You replied, smiling, “Oh, I know, but it’s what you like about me.”
“Not the only thing.” The words and the way he said them made a tingle run up your spine, but you were quick to shoo him off, taking a deep breath as you went about your task of filling the tub.
You changed quickly into your pajamas before sending Leon to his bath, flopping onto the couch with a quiet groan after fetching your pillow and a blanket from upstairs.
You thought that maybe you could sleep forever as you shifted, getting comfortable on the old piece of furniture. You wanted to wait for Leon, though, staring up at the ceiling in quiet cogitation.
Despite your fear that you were the reason Wolfie was out in the storm in the first place, you couldn’t understate your role in saving his life. Had you not been there, Leon wouldn’t have been able to do anything, and you could sense the distress that caused him at the realization.
You worried deeply about what might happen after you leave.
A stray tear escaped your eye and you battled the awful thought of one or both of them dying out here in this village, all alone, with no one to call for.
Wolfie was old and this place was dangerous. And even if Leon ended up being fine physically, you knew his loneliness would eat him alive, especially with the inevitable loss of his dog an ever-looming threat.
You squeezed your eyes shut, wiping them to stop you from crying.
You thought about Leon’s smile instead. Thought of his voice and his laugh and the way he looked at you. Like you were normal. Like you were important.
You could still feel the way his arms wrapped around you, how safe you felt. How cherished.
You sighed deeply, turning over to stare at Wolfie, watching the slow rise and fall of his side as he breathed. You reached out your hand to him, gently stroking his head, his fur soft and warm.
You wondered as your eyes drooped shut and your mind began to fade to unconsciousness, your fingers slowly falling away from Wolfie’s form:
How could you leave them now?
--------------------
Masterlist | Previous | Next
#plaga!leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x reader#plaga!leon kennedy#leon kennedy#resident evil 4 remake#re4r#chubby!reader#half-life
114 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mid month dramaaaas, 2024 is giving quality content 🙌🏽
Lovely Runner, 2024 (kdrama) 8.5
FL is a fangirl who goes back in time to save her idol who ended his own life. (very shortly put lol)
I have thoughts!!! It's gonna be long because my expectations with this one were really high. Don't torch me please lol. If I have to be 100%, this drama wasn't what I expected at all. That being said, loser boy Byeon Woo Seok and cutie patootie Kim Hye Yoon were the real deal here. I came for the premise (okay, and because Byeon Wook Seok is fiiiiine) and stayed because of them.
Here's my deal with Lovely Runner. I didn’t read the webtoon or anything, so in my mind, I assumed they would explore what took Sun Jae to make such a decision in the first episode before Sol went back in time to try and fix everything. The drama starts pretty heavy with both main characters attempting in some way to take their own lives. So to go from that to absurd comedy was a bit extreme for me at first. I thought we would do a little mental health introspection here, a bit of commentary about being an idol and all. Then because the first episodes also focused a lot on Sun Jae's dream to be a professional swimmer and the doomed reality that it would not happen, I thought they would center around that as well. I guess I was picturing some sort of mix between 2521 and Twinkling Watermelon. Plus the whole aspect of Im Sol being disabled. But they didn’t really give any more thoughts to these aspects of the characters.
Moving on from my own expectations and a little disappointment that the drama headed in a different direction, I overall enjoyed watching most of it. To be honest, this is the type of drama you just have to go with it, no heavy thoughts included. It gives major classic rom-com kdrama vibes. The cast absolutely takes the cake, the adorable moments are overflowing, comedy hits and the OST is a 10/10.
I don’t mind time travel plot holes but there are still some thing that bugged me, though. One: The whole taxi guy story. I will admit I was extremely disappointed the moment he was introduced. It’s probably when I started lowering my rating. Why do writers (or webtoon authors) feel the need to just randomly pull out these guys? And this drama being so cute and funny... It didn’t need that at all. Specially, since he seemed really poorly written. Two: I might not get over the fact that these two characters both start in really dark places but it’s never really acknowledged in any meaningful way and instead the drama just does a 180° on that. If these subjects hadn’t been introduced then it would have been fine. But in comparison with what happens next, the rest of the drama felt a little superficial to me. Three: it ended up becoming really repetitive. Sol once again ignoring Sun Jae “for his own good”, Sun Jae going after Sol because he doesn’t really care, Sol ending up crying. All this mixed between cute and silly scenes.
Happy ending did make me the happiest, though 🥹
Will Love in Spring, 2024 (cdrama) 9
When they were kids and FL became disabled due to a car accident, ML’s words made her change her whole perspective. He goes on to become the town's mortician, and she becomes a successful saleswoman in the city. And you know the rest, sparks fly when they meet again.
Oof. Cdramas aren’t supposed to be this good, bro. Like… everything about it is just a chef kiss. Characters and their complexities, OST, cinematography, chemistry!! (It's crazy, for real) It presents the same problem as Meet Yourself, even with Li Xian back as the ML. But whereas Meet Yourself is a little lighter and deals with this problem in a respectful and thoughtful way, ML and FL here are filled with angst and tension. The drama itself is a lot heavier, which is not bad, but it's not always nice, and sometimes very frustrating. I saw comments saying that they found the characters to be rather toxic, and that is such a childish way of seeing their relationship. Not everything is red and green flags. This is not that type of drama. People throw the word toxic around everything nowadays. I’d say they were realistic. Both FL and ML make mistakes (because they both have issues) and the drama makes sure the audience knows they were wrong. Because, you know, humans fuck up and stuff. I liked that. But because I can't help but compare it to Meet Yourself, I gotta admit that even though I liked the pace, the OST, and the cinematography more here. MY remains superior, and therefore, I don't feel like I can give it a proper 10. I will say, though, last two episodes gave a bit ot a bittersweet ending even though it's supposed to be a happy one, and I didn't like that much.
Queen of Tears, 2024 (kdrama) 8.5/9
A lawyer from the countryside marries the top heiress of a leading conglomerate. They marry very much in love, but find themselves almost not communicating or holding much feelings for one another three years later.
I completely get why this got everyone hooked. Overall it’s a great story, and very well produced, but at the same time I gotta admit I was hoping for something a little more… exciting. Specially because it was written by the same screenwriter that did Crash Landing on You and The Legend of the Blue Sea and those two were a 10 for me. It might also be personal taste. Some people are into chaebol family dramas that focus on business with their villains cartoonishly evil. Me, personally, I get a bit bored and this is sort of what happened. Even though Kim Ji Won and Kim Soo Hyun got me hooked with their marriage story and the romance of it all, the rest was a bit 💤. Although both families living together was really cute and I loved those scenes. I’d say that’s where the magic of this drama was. The last episodes after her memory gets erased are a bit messy, but the ending still made me sob dramatically lol.
A Good Day to be a Dog, 2023 (kdrama) 7.5/8 (girl what are you doing still here?)
Because of a family curse if FL kisses someone she turns into a dog at midnight… which she does after accidentally kissing a fellow teacher. She can only break the curse if he kisses her again in dog form. The only problem is he’s scared of dogs and doesn’t seem to like her that much.
This is the first time I put on hold a drama and actually go back to finish it lol. I’m proud. This starts off very very cute. Cha Eun Woo but specially Park Gyu Young are really funny and both have great chemistry. The problem here for me is, once again, the past life storyline. I know this is based off a webtoon, but I swear that whole thing is what ruined it for me. I wasn’t into it at all and so the last 4/5 episodes I spent them skipping scenes. Howeveeer, if someone were to ask me if they should watch, I’d say yes. Because romance wins lol.
#lovely runner#queen of tears#will love in spring#a good day to be a dog#netflix kdrama#kdrama#kdramadaily#dovey watches
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
Although Irish Ron would definitely be great Irish rep (as well as the ginger rep he always was!), I'm kinda hoping for Devon Ron... the thought of little Ron having that country accent... so cute! Also... I am kinda getting a bit excited now I know they're casting... this has 'reliving childhood' HP hype potential...
What are the top things the movies left out that you'd like them to include in this, supposedly, more book accurate adaptation?
True and fair, Devon Ron is also great and I'd really like someone in the main cast to have a country accent since Harry and Hermione are probably going to be some variant of RP (barring other changes). I would like if they gave someone else an Irish accent (e.g. Lavender, Katie, or Angelina) because Seamus "Blows Things Up" Finnegan being the only Irishman, in books that were written in the 90s, is Ow U Say Not Great but there's enough characters for a broad linguistic diversity. Like the Welsh Remus headcanon that was floating around a few years ago, that was cool. Opportunities!
Other things I'd like to see adapted for the first time: GINNY WEASLEY. Anything Ginny Weasley has ever done or said that isn't dating Harry Potter, that would be great. More of Harry's bond with McGonagall — in the movies, they don't have any one-on-one scenes together. More dimension for Luna Lovegood! She doesn't just float above it all like she does in the movies, she does get annoyed at people and she does have pride in what she does, and in particular she has a fierce affection for her friends. Same with Neville, whose character arc disappears a lot, and hence the Book 7 moment with the snake seems to come out of nowhere. In general, a lot of moments in the 8th movie are payoff on arcs that only existed in the books, and the fact that they play anyway is a reflection of the audience generously blurring the two in their minds.
On a more nitpicky level: the fourth movie does a pretty janky job adapting the plot of Goblet of Fire, because it forgets the mystery plot in favor of the tournament arc. Which is okay, because the movie turns out fine anyway and I get that the book's way too large to adapt, but you lose all the intrigue about who put Harry's name in the goblet — they cut Bagman, e.g., who is the default red-herring answer to that question — and it leaves a lot of beats feeling strange and weightless. Also, more house-elves. And Percy Weasley's character arc! For starters.
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
White Cat Legend
I was craving something unpretentious, slightly funny, absolutely not loaded with gut-wrenching backstabbing plots, and if possible with a very mediocre level of emotional luggage - and this drama delivered above and beyond!
First of all, Ding Yuxi is a real sweetheart and looks very cute as a Cat-Detective Li Bing. He basically finds himself a human (Chen Shi), just as cats do, befriends him, and takes him to work as his subordinate at the Court of Judicial Review, along with a bunch of lovely idiots who turn out to be very loyal partners as well.
By the time he meets Chen Shi, a simple boy from a small town who comes to the capital to find his brother, Li Bing has been around kitty-cattying his way into the plotty plots of the capital for 3 years, after the death of his father, when some assassins killed him along with all the members of the old Court of Judicial Review. Now, as Li Bing finds out, the new organization consists of the above-mentioned lovely idiots and one vice minister, the daughter of some official, who seems to be in the series just so we have at least one female supporting character in the all-male cast XD. There are lots of BOYS in this show, and they range from handsome to cute to hilarious.
As Li Bing becomes the second vice minister in this case-solving organization, along with the single lady, with whom he has no chemistry whatsoever, he meets his long-lost love childhood friend, a handsome general Qiu Qingzhi, who apparently made it his life's mission to meddle into all Li Bing's cases, take his witnesses, mess with his convicts, and just to be the handsome pain in everyone's ass with a very mysterious and slightly sad aura about him. Qiu Qingzhi is a walking red flag - one minute he jumps to save our boy who's falling from the roof and catches an arrow on his behalf (which nearly kills him), the next minute he's shooting arrows into our boy himself. Go figure, but he's quite obviously involved in the CONSPIRACY, so choices were made.
We get to learn the story of these two later into the show, but the bromance is bromancing strong in this one. Not in that kind of way, but more than one tear has been shed in this brotherly relationship, and these two are pretty much responsible for the most emotional scenes in the series.
So, there are were-cats (apparently the Original who turned our boy into a white fluff comes from the neighboring country, and of course, Qiu Qinzhi knows a thing or two about it). The Original is a joker-style mess of a man, who likes to play games with our boy and with everyone else. He has his own AGENDA apart from shedding blood and stealing people's teeth (yuck).
Of course, there's also a CONSPIRACY because how can you have were-cats and not have dudes in cloaks planning their weird things and looking for eternal life. Probably, were-cats are involved in that somehow, too.
The Lovely Idiots Boy Band consists of:
The Unlucky Boy who's like a walking bad omen, has a cute sad face and a nearly perfect memory for cases and who said what
The Former Army Guy who knows his gong-fu, can infiltrate an enemy base and has also seen a part of the CONSPIRACY
The Foreign Prince who talks with a hilarious Mandarin accent, has lots of money, and two henchmen who help him with stuff
The Youngest Son of a rich family trying to prove his worth to his papa. Has great makeup and cross-dressing skills
Also, there's the Empress, a bunch of officials, and plotty detective cases that are written and filmed well enough to keep your attention until the main storyline starts unfolding. There's lots of friendship, camaraderie, cute silly humor, and funny cat moments with Li Bing. Not nearly enough for him being an actual were-cat, they played down this part, but if you can ignore the not-very-expensive CGI and lack of worldbuilding, the story is more than entertaining, both the small cases and the bigger main CONSPIRACY. And all the brotherly love stuff.
Definitely a great watch if you're looking for something more lightweight and not another fandom to spend half of your life in. Just a cute little drama with CGI cats and killer fluffy paws (my brain literally malfunctions when I see grown-up men with kitty paws killing someone with rawrr and being pretty homicidal and psycho about it, ahah).
If you like cats, detectives, cat-detectives, plotty plots, no romance, and an all-boy cast, this drama is probably right up your alley. Just don't use too much critical thinking, don't expect much, and you'll have a great time watching this. At least I did. A good 8/10.
#white cat legend#ding yuxi#zhou qi#wei zheming#an all-boys cast#were-cats and CONSPIRACIES#bromance is bromancing strong in this one#but in a totally platonic way#but our boy really shows no interest whatsoever in his pretty concubine informer in a pretty brothel#nor in a fellow second vice minister who's a girl#and gets emotional only when he meets his former bff Handsome General#I'm just saying#they do have HISTORY#the pain and betrayal and stuff#CATS#cdrama
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Targ Talk: House of the Dragon S2
Episode 7 commentary
Contains major spoilers from the book but y'all probably already know this.
I absolutely love the scene where Seasmoke and Syrax was like conversing. Seasmoke be like, "Look what I found..a new dragon rider!" Then Syrax would be like, "Good for you, he's cute." Also the detail where Seasmoke was like bowing to Rhaenyra while showing her his new rider is really good.
There's something about the scene of Alicent in Kingswood that's hauntingly beautiful. I like that they made the audience think as to whether or not Alicent was there to end herself, or was she just there to clear her thoughts or think of what she's going to do next. The reason why Alicent was written to be some sort of a puppet to her dad was because it will explain why her mental health deteriorated towards the end. Still not much of a fan of how they've written Alicent in the show and I don't know if I'm ever gonna see that side of her that came from the book.
I like Oscar Tully. He knew his vassals would not take him seriously because he is a boy. "Insulting" Daemon, punishing Willem Blackwood and making Daemon "ride along" by killing the latter in exchange of House Tully's loyalty [and army] had benefited the both of them. Daemon gets his army, and Oscar earns the respect of the Riverlords as the new lord paramount.
I REALLY HOPE THAT THIS WOULD BE THE LAST EPISODE OF THE HAUNTING OF HARRENHAL. I know the final episode got leaked on the internet, and I actually saw a scene about Helaena confronting Aemond. Ngl, I love that scene but bitch it ruined the excitement for me. So whoever leaked the episode, fuck you.
Rhaena never had any other dragon aside from Morning, but if she for real is going to claim Sheepstealer then...there wouldn't be Nettles anymore?
I know a lot of people are kinda upset with Jace right now, but I get his point. Yes, it was his idea to find dragonriders for the other dragons but he never really thought that a lowborn with a Targaryen blood (and a bastard of Corlys that no one knows about as of the moment) would be chosen by a dragon, and it's not really Addam's fault. The thing is, if bastards could be dragonriders then they certainly would think that they could claim the throne as well. If Rhaenyra passes, then another war might start (actually, it was pure chaos after Aegon II's death but we'll get to that later on). It's also bad enough that he and his brothers have been the talk of the town since they were born. Despite having the potential of being a good king, he would always be questioned, opposed, and like Jace said he will always have to fight for his position. It would have been easier had he been born looking like his mother, but his dad's genes are Strong unfortunately, and having a dragon is the only thing that proves of his Targaryen heritage--the reason why people respect him. So having bastards for dragonriders is not only a huge slap on his face, but it could also lead to another dance of the dragons.
If Rhaenyra wants to secure Jace's claim to the throne, the only way is to legitimize him. I don't know if it's already a thing in this timeline, but it's the only way to protect him. It's already an unspoken truth anyway. Problem is that, she's just gonna end up like Aegon II whom no one takes seriously. Even if she does her best to be a good mother and queen, people will not look past the fact that she had kids with another man that wasn't her (first) husband. And Daemon being Daemon? Oh, we are sure as hell that he would want his own son to rule in the future hence, another potential war.
Actually, we shouldn't be thinking too much about Jace's ascension to the throne because it will never happen. And Daemon didn't have to fight for his son's claim since he was already gone by the time Aegon III succeeded his uncle (and married Jaehaera).
But let's just pretend that we don't know that for the sake of discussion...unless you haven't read Fire & Blood.
Going back, if Rhaenyra wants peace and stability in her court and amongst her people, then she'd have to name Aegon the Younger her heir since her two youngest sons have always had stronger claim to the throne since birth, but this will destroy Rhaenyra and Jace's relationship.
Aside from his recovery, I wonder if Aegon is also conspiring with Larys already to eliminate Aemond? Or is he letting Larys do everything? But if you think about it, without Aemond and Vhagar the greens will be at a huge disadvantage. Tessarion and Dreamfyre wouldn't suffice unless Aegon pretends to bend the knee and devices a scheme to kill Rhaenyra and her family later on, but that would take so much time, and Aegon doesn't have the patience for that...So Ulf and Hugh betraying Rhaenyra it is then to get Vermithor and Silverwing to their side.
Dragonkeepers doing a mass resignation after Rhaenyra recruited dragonseeds because basically, dragons are sacred blah, blah, blah. These people were born/direct descendants of the Targaryens, therefore magic is in their blood. We all know now that dragons and riders form a bond by either:
Hatching the dragon
The rider successfully claiming the dragon
The dragon chooses its rider
The others who were deemed unworthy ended up being Vermithor's snack. The process of choosing a rider for Vermithor was indeed horrible, but it's only a matter of time before Aemond defeats Rhaenyra so she has to act quickly. But in doing so, she has to make sacrifices. On the other hand it's common knowledge that dragons shouldn't be fucked with, but the reason why the dragonseeds answered the call was because they thought that by claiming a dragon, their lives will change for the better. They were abandoned as children, lived a horrible life, and with the current situation, anyone would jump at any opportunity no matter how risky just to get out of that situation.
Though I wonder what show Rhaenyra would do to make sure none of the dragonriders would betray her, surely there will come a time when they would ask for a reward for their contribution to the war, and it's going to be more than just money.
Emma D'Arcy speaking in High Valyrian is just 🤌🤌🤌🤌 the scene where Rhaenyra was calming Vermithor, and as if they were having some sort of conversation through the mind, and when she opened her eyes, there was power--gods I kept on replaying it. Even the dragon knows who the real queen is. Such a badass scene!
The final cut where Aemond found out that Rhaenyra have 3 more dragonriders now was actually quite funny. The latter looking at her little brother as if saying, "Come at me now motherfucker," is such a big sister thing. But I felt like the dragons were only calling out to meemaw Vhagar as if they were just having some sort of mini reunion 🥺🥺.
#hbo series#george rr martin#house of the dragon#fire and blood#emma d'arcy#matt smith#olivia cooke#tom glynn carney#ewan mitchell#harry collett#clinton liberty#rhaena targaryen#tom bennett#kieran bew#rhaenyra targaryen#daemon targaryen#alicent hightower#aegon ii targaryen#aemond targaryen#addam of hull#jacaerys velaryon#ulf the white#hugh hammer#The targ talk#3ts
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some speculation for what's to come based on the OST* and my own perception and yearning
EPISODE 1
Not so much to guess about this one. The opening track and how it is used to introduce Delainey's Claudia is one of the most spectacular pieces of cinematography that I've seen in my entire life
EPISODE 2
We know which scene Paris sucks belongs to since we've already seen it in the trailers so it makes sense for it to be at the begining of ep. 2.
I speculated that Who are the young men could be related to Lestat and Nicolas and their portraits hanging in the theatre. But it can also be about Loustat first meeting and even the brave men they met at the park (cruising-meet cute confirmed around min 21:00)
They invite us for a hunt is def the slaughter scene at the palace after the motorbikes and Armand for you could be the moment Armand finaly joins the interview (meaning, Daniel paying attention to him finally) by the end of the episode.
Included Raglan James in ep 2 cause I wanna see Justin Kirk asap but he might as well appear at the begining of ep 3.
EPISODE 3
The 1700s flashbacks are said to happen at the beginning of this ep so The fourth great law could be an introduction to Armand as a coven master in both the 1940s and 1700s and A vein winding through paris sounds like something Armand would say to describe the city and the time. This is when Arlecchinostat is supposed to happen so there should be some remarkable track that didn't make to the OST
I don't like windows when they're closed we know is Claudia's debut performance so wouldn't it be beautiful if we hear it right after Lestat's 1700s show?
Amadeo... I don't even know how to make sense out of this one. I'm just getting ready to be stabbed through the heart and that's it
EPISODE 4
This episode is when Caludia meets Madeleine so most of the tracks may have to do with it and Madeleine as a character.
Hello Francis, Goodbye Francis I think is referring to the Francis Bacon tryptic
EPISODE 5
First time in new orleans sounds like a way to introduce the first interview.
I didn't know it was a gift I don't really know how to explain it but since it's probably in episode five (unless it isn't) something about someone being too young and stupid to realise something is important and what Eric said about Daniel reading something from one of his books that didn't know what he meant when he wrote it. Something...
EPISODE 6
Most of these tracks will probably have to do with theatre performances.
Ladies And Gentlemen as in something Santigo would say; Jardin de Satan might be some of the plays Nicolas wrote.
Come To Me Again it is a performance on its own**
Annika is probably the girl they torture on the stage and Le Bucheron and Woodcutter... a lot of foreshadowing (Le bucheron could even be a pun in French although I don't know enough French to be sure). We have also seen a play about a woodcutter in one of the trailers
EPISODE 7
The Five Great Laws for this episode since it is probably going to be The Trial and we know Baby Lu is Claudia's (unfortunate?) theatre persona
My gut tells me that Je N'Aime Pas Fenêtres Quand Fermée will play at the end titles of the episode, in contrast with the atrocities that might have happened previously
EPISODE 8
We know that Nicolas should have already showed up at some point between ep1 to 6 so For A Young Violinist Again being at the bottom of the list can only mean that we will see him once again. Something tells me it will be painful and maybe the first approach to authentic Nickistat.
Love Wronged could be applied to almost every relationahip in the show
In Nomine Magni. Who could possibly say a line like this in Latin so close to end of the season?
Followed Closely By My Madness has Nicolas de Lenfent written all over it again
Vien À Moi Encore sounds perfect for a dramatic clifthanger, maybe even Lestat coming back to Louis
*Considering always that the titles are in order of appearance as they were for the S1 OST
**Unlike Come To Me on Rue Royal that goes at the bottom as a bonus track, I doubt we will actualy hear it *in* the show but we will see
7 notes
·
View notes