#that would literally be so mortifying

[fictiongods]

God bless Lena and her beautiful soul let her never find out that she talked to J’ONN about KISSING JAMES Instead of Kara. Like Jesus fuck if I found that out after I found out about Kara’s identity I’d hate her out of spite purely because of that one interaction.

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Duke doesn’t know what’s going on with the crime lord that sometimes is, and then again isn’t allowed at the cave.

All he knows is that the mood of the entire manor takes a nose dive each and every time there‘s an altercation with him, and everybody goes out of their way to NOT explain anything to Duke.

So, as the only one in the manor with more than one brain cell dedicated to proper human interaction, he decides to take the easiest route and just ask Red Hood himself. Considering he‘s the only one the guy hasn’t tried to maim at least once.

[si1verghosts]

Hi!

3. A kiss on the forehead😌

helloooo dear anon!! i am sorry this took so long i could not for the life of me figure out to write but then ! i wrote this on the 4th and i realized it could work... maybe... sorta. this may not be what you were expecting/wanting but there's forehead kisses in there.... somewhere 🫡 also, if u are not american i apologize for giving you a july 4th fic 😭 but the holiday is relatively inconsequential here like theres no patriotism it's just a backdrop if u know what i mean.... anyway, i hope u enjoy <33

you taste like the 4th of july

di leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.5k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking | tw: thoughts about death and dying

tags: established relationship; fluff (i guess??); slight changes to canon to suit author's headcanons

read on ao3

a/n: for the past few months i've been working on this very insane multi-chap post di leon fic 😵‍💫 this was written with that in mind But does not have a place in that story... probably.... idk!!! either way, i think it can be read as a standalone just fine

additionally, there is a scene in here where leon picks the reader up. i would just like to say like... he gets thrown into concrete walls on a biweekly basis and gets up and walks it off without issue so i think he can lift anyone no matter their size or shape!!

not beta read or proofread - sorry if any of it is gibberish i've had a wicked migraine the past few days... will maybe attempt to proofread once i can see correctly again 🚬🧍‍♀️regardless, all mistakes are my own

i do not own leon or any other resi character mentioned, etc etc, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chatbot and/or writing generator.

-----

"It was a good day, wasn't it?" Leon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as you stand over the patio table, cleaning up the abandoned plates and platters.

You hum. It was; a beautiful, cloudless July 4th, spent with Leon's friends in the backyard of your home. The only ones missing were Ashley and Ingrid; the former having a standing family commitment and the latter planning to spend her holiday on the beach, away from the country and your fiancé.

Typically, Chris hosted the Independence Day cookout, but Leon offered up your new home as this year's venue, citing your in-ground pool and the plenty of extra space you have for guests to stay. In reality, he just wanted the chance to out-grill Chris - he'd been preparing since Memorial Day; testing different spice and sauce combinations as well as stocking your freezer full of large cuts of meat.

He'd started before you were even awake, chopping and seasoning in the kitchen, slowly loading up the smoker. You'd joined him on the patio a few hours later, watching from your pool floaty as he poked and prodded at various things.

You don't even eat meat, didn't know the whole thing was so involved, but you did enjoy the view; worn blue jeans hugging his frame as he crouched to check a thermometer.

You had taken a short break from the water, tying up lights and setting a few little decorations around before your guests arrived. Rebecca was the first, tucking her jugs of pre-made cocktail and platter of deviled eggs into your fridge before joining you on the patio.

Chris wasn't far behind, unloading two coolers filled with beer and containers of homemade potato and pasta salads. He'd handed one off to you, grinning, "Claire made one just for you this year."

You'd thanked him, making another attempt to get him to share his family's recipes with you. It was futile, you probably couldn't even waterboard it out of either of them.

Claire had arrived on her motorcycle shortly after, pulling a bundle of fireworks out of her saddlebags. "Sorry I'm late," she said - even though she wasn't - dumping the pile on the ground, thankfully far away from the grill. "Had to stop for these."

Leon had crouched down to inspect them, listening intently as Claire told him about all the different varieties she'd purchased while you relaxed back into the pool.

Sherry arrived next, Jake trailing behind her. She'd left both him and her bags of chips at the table, giving Leon and Claire quick hugs before immediately joining you in the water.

She'd slipped in right beside your floaty, grabbing your hand to get a look at your engagement ring - she'd yet to see it, having been so busy with work. Her eyes widened at the ring as she pushed her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head, "Leon picked this out? Our Leon? Leon Kennedy? Are you sure?"

You'd giggled at her astonishment, "Ashley helped him out; took him to one of her favorite jewelers."

"I should've guessed," She nods. "For my 20th Birthday, he bought me this crazy cute pink tennis bracelet and I was like, 'no way you picked this out alone.' He fessed up that he got a little help from a friend named Ashley.

"At the time, I thought it was just some girlfriend - or hoped, I guess. Back then, I spent a lot of time hoping that Claire and Leon weren't just… working; I liked to think they were taking time for themselves, that they were happy," she had trailed off then, looking off to the tree line behind your house for a minute. Blinking the mist from her eyes, she shrugged, continuing on, "Anyways, I'm thankful to Ash for that bracelet, it was there with me though… a lot. And I'm thankful to you for making him happy, like I always wanted him to be."

With that, you slid off the float to give her a hug, holding her tight as you whispered your thanks. You had worked to bite back your tears - if she didn't cry, neither would you.

Luckily, Jill had walked in a few seconds later, providing a distraction in the form of the most ridiculously large watermelon. "Hey, Kennedy," she shouted, pulling Leon out of his conversation with Claire as she gestured to the melon tucked under her arm. "Can't burn this, can I?"

Leon had thrown his head back with a laugh - in previous years, Jill had always brought boxed brownies with extra crispy edges and Leon invariably had to make a comment about them. "I don't know," he had shrugged, "When it comes to you, Valentine, I'll never say never."

Jill had reared the watermelon back, acting as if she was going to throw it at him. Leon had thrown his arms up, shielding his face, causing everyone to crumble into laughter at the scene.

"It was nice," you agree, reaching to pick up the barong machete he had given Jill when she asked for a knife to cut the melon. "We do have kitchen knives, you know," you scold mockingly, gently waving the blade around.

"I know," he says, releasing you to reach around and pluck the machete out of your hand. "It's good to exercise these every once in a while, though."

You roll your eyes at him, "It's a machete, Leon, not a horse."

He waves you off, slipping through the patio door to wash the blade in the kitchen sink. You take the opportunity to speed clean, knowing it'll be a much harder task once he returns and wraps his arms back around you.

Thankfully everyone had taken care of their own plates and cups - they'd tried to stay and do more but you had ushered them out of the backyard, wanting Chris, Sherry and Jake to depart before the traffic picked up with the crowds leaving the city following the fireworks shows. Jill, Claire and Rebecca had taken up on your offer to stay, at least, piling into your guest rooms. You were glad to have them, secretly plotting to drag them to brunch once you all woke.

You finish piling the platters as Leon makes his way back outside. Before he can get his hands on you and derail your progress, you point to the stack, "Take those inside."

He frowns, "Can't it just wait until tomorrow?"

"We'll get ants; come on, five minutes and it'll be done."

He sighs, but doesn't protest further, carrying the heavy plates inside as you follow him with the utensils. You stack everything by the sink before turning to him, "Is there any of Becca's cocktail left?"

He cocks his brow, tilting his head, "You really want to try that again?"

It's a valid question - you had given it a go earlier and despite everyone's warnings to take it easy, you had thrown back a large mouthful right off the bat. You ended up wincing in pain, "Fuck, that burns. What'd you put in there, Becca?"

She'd shrugged, "Oh, you know, a splash of this, a splash of that. And," she teased, drawing out the vowel, "A bit of my own creation."

"Your own creation…" You had muttered, trailing off before it hit you, "Test tube alcohol?"

She had giggled, grinning, "Takes some getting used to."

You had tried another, much tinier sip. You were able to enjoy the sweetness of the juice for a moment before the burn kicked in again, causing you to curse once more, louder.

Leon had shifted his attention from Chris to you at your exclamation. Seeing the jug of Rebecca's cocktail in front of you on the table, he quickly pieced together what was happening, calling over to Rebecca from his place by the grill, "You trying to kill my fiancé, Becks?"

"Absolutely not; that'd be a stupid thing for me to do," she'd shot back. "She's the only one who can keep you in line, and we kind of like you like that."

"Well," you start, rolling the word around your mouth, "No. But yes - there's gotta be some sort of trick to it, right? Everyone else drank it just fine."

"The trick is," he starts, voice low, reaching out to grab ahold of your hips, "To not drink it. Let me make you some tea instead."

"Fine," you pout, relaxing into his grip, not bothering to argue - tea won't make you hate yourself in the morning.

He moves his hands from your hips, sliding his fingertips along your spine. "Go wait outside," he says, releasing you with a featherlight kiss to your forehead, "I'll bring it out."

With a brush of your lips against his cheek in thanks, you slip away from him, heading back out to the backyard and pulling off your shorts, settling onto the ledge of the shallow end of the pool. The air has cooled with the setting of the sun, becoming a comforting warmth instead of an overbearing heat. You dip your legs into the water, thankful you insisted on having a pool when you and Leon were house hunting.

Someone is still setting off fireworks; they're a few miles away, though - you can hear them more than you can see them. Resting back on your palms, you close your eyes, imagining what bursts of color may be accompanying each sound.

Leon joins you a few minutes later - just after the fireworks had died down - sporting his swim shorts and carrying your tea. He bends, setting the mug next to you with a kiss to your temple, nosing at your hair. "Earl Grey," he reports before drawling, "How terribly unpatriotic of you."

"You going to arrest me for treason, Agent Kennedy?" You laugh, reaching up to squeeze his thigh below the hem of his shorts. "You're the one who made it; they'd nail you as an accomplice."

He falls into a crouch, leg muscles bunching under the pads of your fingertips as he shifts closer to touch his lips on your cheek. "They can hang us together, then," he remarks, voice a bit too serious for it to be just a joke. "Side by side, off the same branch."

You sit back just enough to get your eyes focused on him, reaching your other hand out to thumb at his bottom lip. "Dulce et decorum est pro cor mori," you whisper, tacking on a hum in question.

He cocks his head at the unfamiliar words, nipping at your nail playfully, "English please, baby."

You consider him for a moment, the translation of the true phrase running through your mind; how sweet and honorable it is to die for one's country. The old lie, it's come to be known as - fittingly.

It's a similar sentiment to one that's grown to become your fear; that he'll die for the sake of the country, under orders from the government, believing it was his duty.

But you think your spin on it may be true; would be willing to find out.

You don't want to weigh him down with the thought, though, choosing to reel him in for a kiss instead. "I love you," is the answer you settle on, laying the words down right on his tongue.

He seems content with your translation - the method of delivery likely having something to do with it - humming into your mouth. He kisses you back lazily for a long, languid moment before he pulls away, "As much as I'm enjoying this, I've been wanting to get in there all day," he says, nodding his head towards the water.

"Go," you chuckle, giving him a gentle push away from you with the hand still resting along his face.

He lays another quick peck against your lips before standing, padding around the edge to the steps. He pauses for a moment to pull his shirt over his head, skin honeyed under the soft glow of the lights you'd hung around the patio.

A second later, he slips under the surface without hesitation; kicking off the steps, moving quickly to the deep end. He almost shimmers as he glides along the floor of the pool, the rippling of the gentle waves he'd created making him seem like some sort of mirage as he passes by you.

He comes up for air once he hits the far wall, tossing his hair back, smoothing the water from his eyes. He doesn't rest long, though, beginning to swim short laps across the width of the deep end.

You observe him, sipping your tea slowly, appreciating the way his back and arms work with each stroke. He continues long enough for you to nearly drain your cup, stopping short when another trio of fireworks set off in the distance.

Setting your mug down, you eye him, preparing to slip into the pool to soothe him if you have to, but he relaxes once he connects the sound to the flashes in the sky. The tension that had flooded the line of his shoulders drains into the water as he shifts to wade backward, moving closer to where you sit.

You finish off your drink as he starfishes out across the surface of the water, floating just a few feet in front of you. You wonder if you could use him as a floaty, pinning up a note in your brain to try it out sometime.

"I'm glad you insisted on a pool, sweetheart," he sighs, breaking your companionable silence.

You hum, pleased, kicking your legs out gently and causing the water to lap against his skin. More fireworks sound out; he doesn't tense this time, but he does get his feet back under himself, moving to where you sit along the ledge.

Sliding his hands up your legs, he pillows his head in your lap, wet hair fanning out across your thighs. You shift your weight back onto your right hand, laying the other along his jaw. His eyes flutter closed as you brush your thumb along his cheekbone and the scar that runs beneath it.

He picks at the tie of your bathing suit absentmindedly, tugging at the strings when you slide your hand into his hair, scratching at his scalp. "Sherry said something to me earlier."

He makes a noise urging you to elaborate, not bothering to open his eyes.

"She told me that when she was younger, she hoped that you and Claire were living your lives; that you were doing more than just working, you know? She said she wanted you guys to be happy," you explain, working to keep your voice even.

He cracks his eyes open, picking his head up to watch you as you continue. "She thanked me," you swallow thickly, "for making you happy, like she always wanted you to be."

He smiles at your words, and it's a beautiful thing. You still get all twisted up inside with how gorgeous he is; neurons overclocking themselves with the thrill of being the subject of his attention.

"I owe you a thank you, too, baby," he starts, pausing to nose at your wrist.

"You don't owe me anything, Leon," you tug at his damp strands still between your fingers, highlights catching the yellow glow from the lights around the patio.

"I do," he says, the words sending a jolt through you. You never intended on getting married, yet here you are now, eager to hear the phrase on the altar.

He kisses the thin skin of your wrist, lips lingering as if he can feel the thrum of your heartbeat; knows that the pace has picked up under his affection. "All this," he pulls back, taking a hand off you to gesture to the pool; the backyard; the house; to you. "It's something I never thought I'd get.

"Sherry's right - you're behind basically every bit of happiness I have now, sweetheart; I owe it all to you." He reaches up, untangling your grip from his hair, thumbing gently at the ring he put there, "Thank you."

You can't respond verbally, will burst into tears if you do. In lieu of speech, you lean forward, pressing your lips against his insistently.

He seems to get the message; understands that the pleasure is all yours, that you'd give him anything and everything you can - knowing he'd do the same for you.

He gets his arms back around you, continuing your kiss as he lifts you from the edge of the pool and into the water with him. You wrap your legs around his waist, safe and secure in his hold.

His teeth catch along your bottom lip and the neighbors down the street set off fireworks, the bright bursts of color painting your backyard in reds and blues and greens and oranges. The sparks reflect off the surface of the water as he slides his nose against yours and not for the first time, you think this may all be a dream. Maybe you died four years ago and this whole thing has been some sort of afterlife; you aren't sure you'd done anything worth this treatment, though.

Maybe it's more supernatural in origin; an intricate hallucination weaved by a Djinn that's got you chained up in some dark, damp basement as it feeds off your blood. Or maybe you just went crazy and the pool is actually a padded room, Leon's mouth against yours a product of your mind working to distract itself from your reality.

Whatever the case may be, it certainly feels real when he shifts his hold on you, hoists you up higher to get at your neck, laying kisses up and down the column of your throat, nipping at your jaw.

But before he can venture much further, the neighbor's fireworks show grows into an extravaganza, the relentless popping and bursting becoming a nuisance, shattering the illusion of your teeny-boppy movie moment.

"Jeez," Leon mutters, breath hot against the saliva cooling on your skin, causing you to shudder. "Did they buy out a whole tent?"

"Did you check that Claire actually went to bed?" You ask, shaking yourself free of his hold. "She could've joined them; brought everything I wouldn't let her set off here."

He hums, letting you down into the water, considering your words - even though you said it as a joke, it certainly is a possibility. You seem to come to this realization at the same time, eyes narrowing at each other as the spray of fireworks continues overhead. "We should…" He starts, nodding towards the stairs.

"Yeah," you agree, already beginning to move.

You pause to grab your towels, wrapping your own around yourself, throwing the other over Leon's shoulders when you catch up to him at the patio door. Stepping inside, you hear someone knocking around your kitchen.

Luckily, it's Claire. She steps back from the cabinet she'd been rifling through to face you and Leon with a frown. "Isn't this shit ridiculous?" She remarks, pointing to the ceiling in reference to the fireworks.

"You're one to talk, Claire," Leon shoots back. "Didn't you just set off about five hundred dollars worth of them in my backyard a few hours ago?"

"Yes, a few hours ago," she reiterates. "Nothing should be set off after the show at the Capitol is finished - after that, you're done; you missed your shot; better luck next year."

"Exactly," you nod in agreement at her reasoning, "They should put you in charge."

She grins at your words, moving to continue on, but Leon cuts in before she can start; "What is it that you were clawing through my cabinets for?"

She sighs, displeased with his interruption, setting her hands on her hips. "Where do you keep the ibuprofen?"

Leon shoos her out of the way, padding across the kitchen to get the medicine himself. Claire relents without argument, attention immediately shifting back to you as she leans over the counter. "So," she wiggles her eyebrows, "It seems like that pool was a good investment, huh?"

You bite at your lip, ears burning with embarrassment that she'd seen you and Leon necking in the water like teenagers - even though you shouldn't be flustered; it is your house, after all.

Leon sets the bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water down in front of Claire, annoyance evident with the way he uses a bit more force than really necessary, causing the items to clack against the marble.

"What?" Claire questions, glaring at him. "It was cute."

Leon huffs in response, unable to hide the flush that crawls up his neck at her words. You can't help the giggle that bubbles out of you, enjoying the way they bicker like siblings.

Claire leaves Leon to stew, tossing you a grin as she collects the bottle and glass, bidding you goodnight once more before she leaves the kitchen.

You move around the counter to Leon, steps careful in an effort not to slip on the water that has dripped off him and onto the tile. The neighbors must've ran out of fireworks while you were distracted by Claire as it's silent when you wrap your arms around him, tucking your face into his neck. "Still a good day?" You ask, voice muffled against his skin.

He slings an arm around you, fingers fanning out along the small of your back, "Still a good day."

[jellyjamheadobb]

Not this being me at a local grocery store earlier :D

[good-beanswrites]

LCSYS prompt?

Yuno: *looks up 'cat maid Fuuta'* That's a lot more results than I expected!

Omg yes!! 😂 Based on this convo and wonderful art -- it's so fun to picture the characters having access to the current fandom... I wish them all the best of luck............ (Obviously this would be part of the famous-variation of the au 👍)

“What are you looking at?” Amane leaned over to see Yuno’s phone, just as she hurriedly closed all the tabs.

“Nothing.”

“Yuno-san, it’s not good to lie.”

Fuuta looked up from his mobile game to scrunch up his face. “She’s probably looking into something scandalous for the upcoming photo shoot.”

Yuno rolled her eyes. “It’s not that bad. I’m just trying to get some ideas. Haven’t you guys started brainstorming?” 

She looked between the pair who’d joined her on the break room couch. They had some time away from filming, offering the perfect opportunity to come up with ideas for the merchandise photoshoot that was quickly approaching. Most of the content that the team sold came from within the prisoners’ music videos, so they were abuzz with the prospect of choosing their own unique outfits for this one.

Amane straightened her posture. “I have. Mahiru-san helped me pick something out.”

“And you, Fuuta?”

He slumped further into the couch, focused on his game. “Who cares? It’s supposed to be our natural style, right? So, whatever I wear that day will be what I wear.”

Amane frowned. “You should have a little more pride in your appearance, Fuuta-san.”

“Eh, I care as much as I need to. What am I supposed to do, pander to the audience like some sort of a sellout?”

Yuno opened a new search. “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. I was just looking through what some of my fans have been saying about me! I want to see if there’s any specific ideas I can get on my outfit, something they’ll find attractive.”

Fuuta scoffed. “Who in their right mind would find us attractive?”

“Could… could you look for me too? Look at what people are saying about me?” Amane dropped her gaze when she said it, ashamed of her curiosity. “I-I like the outfit Mahiru-san chose. I just want to make sure it won’t be disappointing to everybody…”

Yuno and Fuuta jumped to reassure her at once. 

“I can still find some things that they’re saying,” Yuno added, “if you wanted to hear their compliments firsthand!”

“No, no. That’s alright.” She squirmed in her seat, trying to hide the blush creeping to her cheeks at the thought. To change the subject, she quickly asked, “what if we looked into ideas for Fuuta-san?”

“Tch, I don’t need any help.”

“That’s a great idea! Hmm~ I wonder what his fans like…” Yuno shot him a look. “... in general.”

“Hey!”

Amane pointed to the screen. “What were you searching up for yourself? Could it be the same?”

Yuno’s hand flew to her mouth, trying to stifle the loud laugh that escaped. “I’m not so sure about that. I doubt Fuuta’s videos inspire talk of cat maids as much as mine.”

“Cat maids?” Amane’s face lit up at whatever mental image she’d conjured for herself. Her eyes were intense. “We should still check. You know. Just in case.”

Yuno made a mental note to find some cute art of cats in dresses to show the girl later. Still, she didn’t see the harm in indulging her now.

“I guess we can see if anyone’s mentioned it…”

Fuuta tossed aside his phone, Game Over scrawled across it. “You must be stupid if you think I’m going to wear a fucking dress at my photo shoot.” He peered over Yuno’s shoulder. “Oi, are you listening?”

“You don’t have to wear it. Right now we’re just seeing what the people want~” Yuno’s fingers flew across the screen. “Cat Maid Fuuta.” She hit search.

Her eyes widened. Then Fuuta’s. He slapped a hand over Amane’s.

Yuno pursed her lips. “That’s… a lot more results than I expected.”

Behind Fuuta’s palm, Amane was beaming. “It sounds like it’s a good idea, then!”

---

I like them chillin on the couch better but this was a doodle I had from a while ago 😂

[leqclerc]

Monaco 🇲🇨, 5th September 2023

[bharv]

I don’t like cameo but also I just saw Neil Roberts, Tav voice 5 and default Dark Urge, do a super cut on TikTok of some of his and I love him and his voice so much.

I am, if nothing else, a hypocrite

[iamthemaestro]

I've been struggling to compose anything at all lately but this came to me tonight while I was thinking about the Flight of the Heron, and I decided to just go with it for an hour or so... maybe some other Heron enjoyers will enjoy it too I don't know

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

literally so evil that discord has a call button u misclick u drop ur phone ur cat steps on it etc BAM it's adrenaline city baby. bad noise bad implications bad time. i love y'all but if someone's voice comes out of my phone i'll jump out the window. the call ringing noise makes me soso scared and i have an evil hallucinating alarms/ringtones after if i hear them go off curse. no i didn't drop my phone last night and accidentally call someone and lie awake for hours bc the noise haunted me haha what are you talking about hahahaha

[pochapal]

they're studying omelette route in undergrad english classes

[volivolition]

truly if anymr f t lttrs f my kybar brak tis inclus svral numbrs an n f t parntsis btw) im fr ral gnna run ut f kybins t rplac tm wit </

[truly if anymore of the letters of my keyboard break (this includes several numbers and one of the parenthesis btw) im for real gonna run out of keybinds to replace them with </3]

[lorephobic]

I LOVE SHOWING SALTBURN TO MY FRIENDS!!!!!!!! <3333333

[hella1975]

doing a walk of shame through the kitchen while my flatmate looks at me like 🤨 bc i did the TINIEST clothes wash the other day and she bollocked me bc she was like ‘you could at least bulk it up by washing your sheets’ but i was insistent i wasn’t gonna wash them for the sake of it and they didn’t need doing. only went and spilled coffee on them today and had to do another wash for them. she was so smug watching me load up the machine i think i should just be point blank forbidden from having hot drinks in my room. like a child

[maraczeks]

+

[somekangarookid]

i know that poll is a joke

[ryusaidate]

i love saito. i love that uchikoshi does not know or care what's wrong with him. i love that everyone else in the game has real life medical issues and his brain issues are just "i don't fucking know he kills people. we're doing a Bit about Love And Family. he's got Murders People disease."

i love whatever's going on in both versions of in the VaiN. and that when someone asked uchikoshi what was with the scene at the end of the hit route with So was he was like "he's fucked up. you know how it is." and that was the full explanation.

everything he does as a-set especially in the arg videos is so so so funny. this man is having the time of his life pretending to be a fucked up and evil teen idol streamer. "this is your idol" "be seeing you. but you won't be seeing me" i will shove him in a locker also i know i already drew it but "this is kaname date he's a real hot piece of twink ass but unfortunately his personality is awful. he lost his memory or something i don't care" is everything to me

love that he's making this incredibly intricate plan to ruin the life of this random fucking guy he CHOSE to bodyswap with on a whim because he... what, he escaped out the window? you really just wanted him to sit there while you killed a guy as rohan, realised the oxytocin release didn't carry over also half your vision is fucked now, swap back, and then kill him so he can't narc? that was Theft Done To Personally Spite You? anyway he's doing all that and he's like "i mean i guess i'll kill my dad while i'm at it" and i love that.

i'm. still thinking about "killed by your own father" why are you pretending to be your own dad shooting yourself in the middle of your last ditch "well whatever plan's fucked may as kill him" moment!! just another one of your "i'm technically not lying teehee" bits?? (and i KNOW the reading that it's about mizuki but that makes even less sense to me. & i'm a 'most cringefail reading possible' truther.) i really do love 'i didn't lie, i kept my promise' just to be a jackass

i love that he's so candid about talking about his murders and says shit like "homicide is my hobby" but when it comes to shooting people he either says some bullshit like "blowing their brains out" or calling them "fireworks" or it's about date "watching them die." the only time he calls it "shooting" is when someone else is doing it. and normally that sort of thing reads as 'distancing yourself from the crimes' but wouldn't that be fucking wild lmao. i think it reads more like it's above just shooting? it's art! perfect, beautiful art of a lonely moment in time.

and all the "(you were) a murderer. a serial killer" "have you been using other men's names for so long that you've forgotten your own" talk feels like it should be leading into a "we're not so different you and i" but it never does. (i'd be tempted to say it's just self restraint on the part of the writing team but i find that VERY hard to believe given the. everything. about every uchi game.) like he hates date but he views himself as above him and he can't pull himself down to date's level, even to upset him. he's just taking hypocritical shots at date because he knows he cares about "justice" and "morality" and garbage like that, without acknowledging their similarities

i'm normal? i'm normal.