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mandalhoerian · 11 months

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NO TIME TO DIE | leon kennedy x oc | 8

pairing: leon s. kennedy x oc word count: 18K~ warnings: discussion of suicide, grief, mourning, a doggo death, graphic description of gore towards the ending, mr x DUN DUNNN summary: In the aftermath of Marvin's burial, it seems all Vera can do is keep slipping up in front of Leon who stands his ground on prioritizing getting everyone to safety, but once the potential answers to all his suppressed questions appear in the form of an FBI agent, it's revealed that he indeed is looking for someone to hold accountable for Raccoon City's demise just as much as the next alive, suffering person. author's note: special thanks and dedication to @lucky-peenut and @mykobirb for the love and support and listening to me ramble about everything, and the incredible art they did for nttd & vera. i'm not worthy, but i gobbled it up like a man starved nonetheless,,,, am on my knees six feet down

READ ON AO3 ! ☆ NO TIME TO DIE MASTERPOST

“We should go inside,” Leon said, stepping forward to stand next to the grieving, dissociated girl so thoroughly drenched that the pink of her top was a whole other color. The puffs of mist from his breath blending into the air was heavier in opacity than his voice. “You’ll get really sick.”

There was no indication from Vera that she’d heard him. Leon attempted to swallow down the stacked rocks of guilt and pity and called her name, louder this time, uncompromising from the carefulness to not spook her, as he’d learned she was easy to startle.

He had to force his face not to sour in sorrow when she turned to him as if waking from a dream and not really comprehending her surroundings. “Huh?”

“We should go inside,” he repeated, reaching for her, but not really touching, just to get her attention to gesture towards the police station. “You’ll get sick if you stay like this any further.”

“Ah,” she smiled the tiniest bit, hollowly. “Sick, huh. Right.”

He knew what she was thinking inside. As if she could care about something insignificant as catching a cold at this moment.

There was a pocket of shelter a balcony above provided they could use to step off from the rain. Leon was able to at least get her to back off together with him underneath it, even if they had to stand close to the body bags lined along the wall. She was intermittently getting the shivers, and he wasn’t sure if it was the cold or the misery. Maybe both. The girl was missing a whole sleeve for god’s sake, and her bandages were getting wet.

So, he ended up briefly leaving her side to go get the jacket he was wearing prior to changing into the uniform, and Vera accepted wearing it with little to no protest – like some patient in a hospital not really conscious of what the nurses did to her.

It was a bit baggy on her and covered her hands until only the ends of her fingers showed, but if it did its job in warming her up, then the size was no problem at all, on the contrary, the material wouldn’t touch her bandages like this.

“Thanks,” she exhaled, yet, had that bitter, distant, thousand yard stare on her as she adjusted the jacket that he didn’t take personally.

Leon knew what he was saying and worrying about was so dumb from her perspective, but he had to look out for her, didn’t he? She was all that was left. Even if Leon had been a colossal failure this far at protecting people he’d sworn to aid, he couldn’t fall on his ass, let everything go and complain about it, he had to keep going – he had to keep trying his best and succeed this time. He had to make sure Vera was safe, and it started simple with looking out for her health so she had the strength to move forward. The girl wasn’t in the right state of mind to care for her wellbeing right now, so it was up to him to remind and support her to get back on her feet.

It just didn’t sit well with Leon how the situation was forcing him to go about it.

This really wasn’t how a person facing death of an immediate family member should be treated like, in a better world he would be helping her take care of herself where he was allowed, and giving her all the time and space in the world she needed while making his presence clear as someone she could confide in and seek companionship whenever she needed it. Steer her in the direction of therapy without outright saying. These things required time and labor of the heart.

He was endlessly uncomfortable with basically having to tell her to suck it up and move on and mourn when she was safe to do so. Hated the cruelty of it, hated more that Vera was in this situation in the first place.

Though, what could he do? God, if he could somehow guarantee Claire and Sherry’s safety to let Vera sleep and rest, he would let her stay by this grave as long as she needed to in a heartbeat.

But unfortunately, Vera had no time to mourn.

Leon couldn’t let her be, and leave Claire alone on her own to look for the lost little girl with a monstrosity on their trail.

“You would be right to get angry at me for saying this, I wouldn’t blame you,” he started, hoping to convey his sincerity. There was considerable distance between them even side by side that he had no courage to cross. “Because I am angry for having to be like this – that it’s this way. You should be able to get to mourn openly and feel those emotions—”

“I know there’s a but coming next. I’m aware we have to go, Leon. I know.” He couldn’t control the press of his eyebrows at the heart-wrenching frustration swelling up inside at her understanding. Vera should have been snapping, but all he’s receiving was a weary lack of reaction. “We have no time, right?”

“Yeah,” he said faintly, hands falling down to his sides, leaden, defeated, stomach in knots. “No time.” He bowed his head, unable to meet unwavering, sad, storm-gray eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong.”

When he looked back up, Vera wasn’t facing him anymore, looking up instead, her profile and the curve of her nose to him, completely ignoring the zombie horde ahead rattling the metal fence, towards the skyline of skyscrapers fallen in total darkness from what he guessed was power outage. He could only discern one belonging to the Umbrella Pharmaceuticals because of the glowing umbrella logo the whole country was no stranger to. He had no idea if she was searching for Marvin up in the sky or just didn’t want to see his face. Guilt smothered his whole being, but Leon didn’t blame her for not finding it in herself to face his way, be it out of disgust towards him or anger – because he was being his cruelest yet.

To a person who deserved none of it. A person who was being gracious to him despite all of his fuck-ups.

They stood side by side together for a while, her watching the rain and the buildings, and him the graves of Marvin and all the coworkers he was supposed to have, lost in their individual thoughts.

Leon had unwavering faith in the good in people, but the world didn’t seem to share that sentiment of his, in fact, it doubled down on them with cruelty, always some kind of carefully constructed tragedy meant to bend reserved for the most pristine of souls. He’d asked himself why uncountable times now, every time he had to put down a zombie and finish the job for good, every time he thought about the person they’d been, every time he caught himself being numb about it and no longer affected.

Raccoon City was hell on earth for delicate hearts that had unprecedentedly survived the initial plummet.

The only reason Leon was able to keep going and not lose it completely was the companions he had collected along the way – do it for them if not yourself, you have to help them, was a mantra in his head, especially after Vera and Sherry were taken.

And now he was back to square-one again, head bowed in shame, finding it an actual struggle to keep a watch Vera who hadn’t moved from the spot she was standing with the help of the shovel stabbed in the dirt other than occasionally swaying on her feet from lack of strength, the final note he’d handed her like passing on a torch that didn’t belong to him was neatly folded by her as if it was written on a thin layer of frost and put in her shorts’ pocket. She had read whatever was written on it and just stared at it with dead eyes for five minutes straight before he couldn’t take it anymore and offered to go inside – and it had broken Leon’s exhausted heart in a thousand shrapnel pieces tearing up his insides.

The cold spreading through his limbs wasn’t because of the rain or the crisp autumn night, it seeped into his very being from the loss weighing heavy on her shoulders and tying an invisible leash around her neck to a makeshift grave.

Leon had to admit he didn’t know how to support her going forward, let alone how to approach her right now precisely because of his apprehension about the correct way to give her the much-needed mental strength to endure.

This had to be one of the hardest trials of life he was going through, particularly since he was powerless to do anything to be of real help, or shoulder even a bit of the pain she had to be going through.

He wanted nothing more than to make it all go away, and having to live with the fact he had no control or a possibility of impact on the situation was a pill he couldn’t swallow, especially because he could have done things better — done better, overall, even if it was through steering the path to the best possible outcome amongst choices only made up of a sea of worsts.

Leon could have done something, anything – anything to not let a noble, good man die on his own like this, leaving a daughter behind who was forced to move on just to survive at a time she should have been mourning to process loss. None of this was fair. None of them deserved an ending of this kind. And heaven knows how many thousand people left in this city were in the same position, burned by the same fire, praying for help that would never come. He was about to lose his goddamned mind thinking about this over and over again.

The worst of it all was he had told them both he was here to help, and yet, done the exact opposite at every turn, a different shade of death he was unsuccessful to be a shield from was waiting around every corner.

Leon had been anything but helpful.

Hell, Vera had battled a monster and a whole serial killer on her own, and gotten right back up after getting hurt worse than he and Claire combined ten times while Leon was just. There. Useless the entire time. She was ground zero in both situations.

Jesus Christ, he was a failure. What was he doing?

“If you’re worrying about me, don’t. I’ve had enough of that. My dad wants me to survive, and so I will.”

Leon faltered; a bit dazed, gaze snapping right at Vera to see her nodding in bitter acceptance and determination, combing her wet hair back with a hand and swaying the handle of the shovel up and down to stab at the dirt in anxious energy. “I’ll do it so well he’ll call me a survivalist. Be a fucking superhero with that power, hell, I’ll even save you guys with it. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. He’ll see.”

Leon opened his mouth and almost said something ridiculous like, ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ – but he halted at the last second, his jaw twitching to mutter, “That’s what the Lieutenant wanted all along, right from the start.”

“Yeah. He, uh,” she cleared her throat, gripping the shovel tighter. “The note. He… He said, uh – “

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, its fine, nothing private. The stubborn bastard just repeated what he’d been preaching like clockwork. That he wants me to survive and live.” Vera huffed an unwilling smile, distantly nostalgic. “He could have written something sentimental, right? Like. Like I love you. I hate to be parting like this, I’m looking back at our memories together— I don’t fucking know, I haven’t… I haven’t written a suicide note before or anything but… But I’d rather have him blame me rather than leave a little note like he’s just going on a road trip or something.” She shook her head, lips twisting to indicate she was chewing the insides of her mouth. “I don’t know what I was expecting but. I don’t know. I guess nothing is good enough when you don’t get to say goodbye. It just feels so incomplete, like he’s off to somewhere and will be back in a minute. No real closure.”

Then, she thought about it for a minute, spacing out to the side, with it ultimately ending with her snapping out of it with the flutter of her eyelids and the raise of her eyebrows. “He said his goodbye. That’s all he’s been saying the whole time. So maybe his closure is all that matters and I need to not think about how he went.”

“Marvin was looking out for you until the last moment, that says a lot,” Leon said, tentatively. “He wasn’t gone fully.” Even right before pulling the trigger. But Leon couldn’t say that out loud. “I think you’re fortunate in that sense.”

Vera stared at him, dumbfounded expression just about to morph into offended, but not able to from how shocked she was. “Fortunate?”

“Ah – “ Leon stuttered, the words escaping him at her low tone. “What I mean is… Shit, I’m sorry, I…” He wetted his suddenly dry lips despite the abundance of rain in the air, under severe stress from how she was almost glaring at him, broken-hearted and distressed. “Of course nothing about this is fortunate. I mean that…” He opened his hands and let them slap back to his sides, completely given up. “You got to see him last as himself, Vera. He was your father until the end, and wanted to stay that way. I think you’re fortunate to be able to mourn that in these circumstances…” He sighed deep from his lungs, running a hand through his face. “I’m ruining everything the more I talk… You know what? Just – just forget what I –“

She was gazing at him like she saw something underneath that he wasn’t aware was there. “You don’t have a family, right?”

He blinked a couple times, freezing up. “What?”

“I remembered what you said underground with Sherry, that you also had no one.”

It wasn’t accusatory or mean-spirited, his shoulders deflated. “Yeah?”

“I have no clue if it’s reciprocated – but I know I get what you’re trying to say precisely because I know why you’re saying it from your position as someone like me, because yes, I am grateful, I am fortunate that I got to have a father like this, even though I didn’t deserve him at all—”

He turned to her slowly like a piece of metal gravitating to a magnet, utter disbelief washing over him the more she kept rambling.

Vera was one of the most confident and proud people he’d come across, the sudden display of low self-esteem was so out of character for her – even though Leon knew he might be being too presumptuous again, it didn’t suit her at all, like struggling with Mandela effect, or an eerie photo you knew something was wrong with at first glance. In his eyes, Vera was such a self-reliant and secure person in the face of every obstacle they’d come across together that he never would think she was capable of looking down on herself like this. It simply didn’t feel right to see her this way.

“Vera,” he started denying, the objection evident right from the start, but she didn’t let him continue.

“And you must be wildly frustrated to see me bitch and cry and hinder everything because, yes, you’re right, there must be people going through the worst of it out there somewhere—”

“That’s not true!–”

“Because I got to be happy, and I should be thankful for getting to be lucky—”

“Stop.” Leon said finally, a pointer finger hanging between them and lowering immediately when he noticed what he did, cutting her off harshly and feeling apprehensive and bad about it simultaneously. However, he had to. This was nonsense he had no tolerance for. “My situation, or anyone else’s, has nothing to do with yours, okay? It doesn’t mean you have no right to feel the way that you do. You’re allowed to be sad. I just wanted to say that—”

“I know what you want to mean,” she half-whined, half-muttered in disappointment, at herself, he could tell. “But I can’t find it in me to feel fortunate about anything at the moment even though I know what I’m doing is just complaining about gourmet food in front of a starving person.”

Leon wanted to kick himself. He shouldn’t have started a conversation like this. It would have been fine if Vera knocked him down a peg or two and put him in his place about what bullshit he was spewing but it had resulted in a whole hidden wound popping its stitches. “That metaphor is bullshit, you lost your father. It’s not about – don’t worry about me, don’t think about anyone else. You don’t have to feel guilty.”

“But I do. I feel guilty about everything, I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t understand him at all, because… Because I’m whiny, you see. I cut my finger with a knife and I call him to complain. I come down with the flu and the phone bill for the month skyrockets. I even had a defective insulin pen that had expired or something last month and ended up in the E.R. for the whole day and he had a night shift and I purposefully inconvenienced him so he would come and stay by my side through the pain knowing Irons would grill him for leaving. Point is I… I just lay it all down on him — and the fact that he has not only hidden this from me but thought me too weak to share his suffering and depend on that he resorted to this is… It just fucks me up.” Vera looked down at Marvin’s grave helplessly, the droplets of rain on her face coupled with her reddened eyes made it look like she was silently crying. “Yeah, it is a blessing to not have seen him turn into a monster – but it’s such a fucked up gratitude in the first place. To be loved so much to be given that privilege, and what kind of privilege is that in a shithole like this? He’s dead. He died with no one by his side, terrified, he thought he had to die first just to give me that.”

“I don’t think that’s all there is to it,” Leon blurted out, in a desperate shot to say something of impact. He felt obligated to share the speculation to put a brake on Vera’s spiraling thoughts, couldn’t just stand here and do nothing, all helpless and limbs heavy, as though shackled by invisible chains, rendering his attempts to salvage the situation slow and clumsy, futile, like desperately swimming against a relentless current that only pushed him further back, away from Vera. “It’s not about you being weak or undependable. He wouldn’t have ended it like this if he thought you weren’t strong enough to keep going. This is him saying he trusts in your strength and perseverance. He knows you can get through this. He believes in you.”

“Huh?”

“That’s why he was able to do this for himself, too, in a way, it goes both ways — doing this for you and for him, he saw that he could let himself go because you’d be alright even without him. He wanted to preserve his dignity. Go with grace while he could.” Taking a couple steps forward to stand by her side instead of staying in the respectable distance he thought was necessary, Leon also crossed the invisible boundary in his head. “And it was a win-win for him in the end, as messed up as it is.” He met her clouded stare, eyes thinning in empathy. “I’m aware it won’t make you feel any better, but perhaps somehow lighter. Eventually, maybe. One day.”

“Wow. That’s… the most messed up thing ever.” Her caught-off laugh and awkward head-scratch got his spine straightening in concern. “Kindest way to say it’s not about you I’ve ever heard.”

Leon was sure he went pale within seconds, and it had nothing to do with the air conditions. He leaned back, shifting on his feet. “Hey, I would never say something like that to you.”

“No. No, you wouldn’t.” Vera's voice quivered with bitterness and resignation, her attempt at a smile falling short of genuine. Her words pierced through Leon's hopes, challenging his desire to provide some sort of support, unable to help but question whether she was truly being honest or merely putting up a facade to spare his feelings, her tendency to deflect only adding to his unease.

Lost in his own thoughts, Leon found himself staring at Vera, searching for any sign of discomfort or underlying emotions. It took the gentle nudge of her fist against his chest to snap him out of his reverie. His attention refocused on her, his eyes meeting hers in a silent exchange.

"I’m thinking if it was you, you’d find a way to be the better person even in pain like this. But here I am—" Vera's voice trailed off, her words heavy with self-doubt and a tinge of regret.

Leon shook his head, dismissing the praise that felt undeserved. "You're giving me too much credit," he interjected, his voice tinged with a mix of humility and discomfort. "And being different from each other in grieving shouldn't be an object of comparison, anyway."

Vera arched an eyebrow in sarcastic contemplation, her gaze locked with his. "Why not? I feel like I'm not doing it right."

A sigh escaped Leon's lips as he struggled to find the right words. "I don't think there's a definitive correct way of feeling emotions. It's a deeply personal journey, and we all navigate it differently."

“I wish there was. And I wish someone would tell me what to do just this once. Guide me through it so I wouldn’t fuck up even worse than I already am.”

With urgency and a heart that sank impossibly deep into his stomach, Leon couldn’t stop himself from asking to enact the first instinct that took a hold of his body, “I could give you a hug for a start?”

And he received a lonesome, “No,” as an answer, a bit sheepish and taken aback, the sincere vulnerability stung his conscience. “I feel like I’ll just crumble if I’m held right now. And that’s not what any of us needs.”

“Okay…” he trailed off, restless, he would have rather gone through this alone than to see that expression on her face. “But if you ever—”

“I know, Leon.” She nodded. “Thank you.”

Leon realized what he thought was her needing a good hug right now was really just his wish. He wanted to hold her so badly to ease her pain in any way he could that it was overwhelming, a restlessness stirring within him at the realization of his desire to offer a hug stemming from his own longing, his own need to feel connected amidst the chaos. It wasn't solely for her benefit.

The response he’d gotten in return had hurt him worse – she should have been allowed to crumble, to have that, in the very least; it was her basic right, no shame or harm in it. He wasn’t even able to give that to her, but understood that she needed to navigate her grief in her own way, and none of it diminished the sorrow that was enveloping him, he just yearned to be there for her, to offer support in any way possible.

But she had just told him what she needed. That was his cue.

Leon held Vera's gaze, his expression serious and determined. "If what you need, like you just said, is someone to tell you what to do for now—" he began, his voice steady and reassuring.

"Just keep going," he continued, unable to hold back from placing a reassuring hand on the corner of the shoulder of her good arm – from reaching for her. Maybe it was for himself, but he’d gravitated to reducing the distance, anxious about the feeling in him akin to ships in the night drifting away. "Don't think too much. Not now, anyway. Keep your head here with me, here with us. And we'll figure everything out together once we're safe and sound, okay? It's not ideal, but you have to."

Vera nodded; her glistening eyes fixed on Leon's face. "Yeah. Yeah, okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Stay with me, alright? I need you to trust me in this and soldier on. Until the end of the line, at least," he added, his grip on her shoulder tightening just slightly and sliding to her arm for more comfort.

"I do trust you," she replied, her voice gaining strength. "You're right. Don't think. Thinking slows you down. Slow gets you killed. Yeah... His saying."

"Exactly," Leon said, a small, gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips. "That's exactly what you — we have to do. Gotta keep moving. For his sake."

"For Marvin," she echoed, voice catching slightly.

He held out his hand, again, another attempt, an urge to connect with her. "You with me?"

Vera nodded and placed her hand in his, the coldness making goosebumps erupt along his forearm. "Yeah. Together?"

"Together," Leon affirmed.

"Alright," Vera said, taking a deep breath, a sense of determination in there that he liked. "I think it's time we check in with Claire."

Here it is.

He knew she wasn’t ready to go. Because who could ever be? Even Leon, scorned by the relationship with his parents, had been endlessly devastated against his will after their loss despite claiming not in his better dreams that he could ever mourn them, and his life. And yet, the first time facing their graves, he’d been an abandoned dog at the door of his abandoned home, standing there for the longest time until his guardian had to take him away. It struck a personal cord in him to witness Vera going through a different version of the same thing, this kind of emotional exhaustion and the ripping of his heartstrings was a first in his life.

It was as Leon S. Kennedy that he wanted to take care of her through it, not as a police officer responsible for helping a civilian in a state of emergency. They were way past that relationship now.

"Let's go inside," Leon said, encouraging and soft, gesturing towards the building.

Vera hesitated, looking back at Marvin's grave. "I'll be back, dad," she said, bone-tired yet promising. "In a flash, okay? Try not to enjoy my absence too much."

I can’t afford to fail anymore, Leon thought, leading the way and pulling her along, feeling the cold of Vera’s hand warm up by his, hardened eyes not visible to her, I can’t let anyone down more than this.

The rain was somehow a blanket over reality, but you really couldn’t ignore the perfume of death upon entering the hall. The stagnant air was tinged with a putrid stench, a sickening mixture of decay and rot that permeated the abandoned police station. It clung to his nostrils, an inescapable reminder of the horrors that had befallen the once bustling hub of law and order, and it was somehow worse than seeing the body bags littering the garden outside. The more he stopped to breathe instead of pushing forward, the more the surrounding tragedy had the opportunity to seep into his every pore.

The last Leon had time to stop and breathe in this hall was when they’d found Marvin’s corpse. After that, it had been non stop running and hiding, chaotic shooting to stop the unstoppable nine feet tall giant bearing down on them wherever they went, and the gut-churning anxiety was just beneath his skin even though he’d seen that thing torn in half — the terror of being chased into oblivion echoed back to Leon from the walls witnessing Claire’s and his frenzied laps all around the station to shake him off.

That climbing fear of even hearing the booming footsteps of the man in the fedora and the overcoat approaching took over when he and Vera stopped to scourge the hall and put a halt on their momentum to talk to Claire. Shadows loomed large in his eyes, stretching and contorting as if alive and taking Mr. X’s shape, making every corner a potential hiding place for him and the zombies he let into the hall by breaking walls in his rampage. Darkened alcoves and doorways became pockets of uncertainty, concealing the lurking horrors that may pounce at any moment.

“So it was the sewers after all,” Claire informed them, shuddering audibly. “The smell wasn’t lying.”

Leon and Vera grimaced in unison, sharing a glance, she was sitting on the couch previously occupied by Marvin, elbows on knees, her backpack at her feet. In her hands was a custom silver Beretta left behind by him they’d only noticed was there after coming back to the hall. She hadn’t let go of it once upon finding it, turning the gun around and examining it in something stuck between a discerning, artistic eye, and melancholy. It was what he’d shot himself with. Leon couldn’t imagine the flurry of feelings she must be going through having that in her possession, but as of now, all of that had faded away into concern and disgust Leon was sharing.

Sewers. Holy shit. Literally.

“I didn’t really understand before I found a map for good, because let me tell you guys, this place is a fucking cave system. I don’t know how the whole city isn’t collapsing in on itself from how much they’ve dug underneath it and I don’t know why they felt the need to make it, like… intricately big either. Not exaggerating.”

“Fucking Christ Claire,” Vera waved at Leon to come closer so he could extend her the radio, and he obeyed. “I sure hope you didn’t roll around in anything questionable.”

A sharp puff of air left his nose at her remark, knowing it was her way of coping with the stress and danger of the situation — her own way of asking Claire if she was okay. He had received plenty of that by now to recognize the pattern.

“Well, don’t expect me to come out smelling like roses after this.”

Vera leaned into the walkie-talkie, a wrinkle in her brow. “No—Claire. Even with a tiny open scratch, you can become septic real quick if that shit gets into your bloodstream!”

“Ba-dum-tss,” Claire said, slightly unimpressed.

“I’m not joking.”

“Yeah, sorry.” The answer was a bit higher in pitch and apologetic, but still lighthearted. Perhaps Claire had expected quipping back and forth with the girl like how they’ve been so far, but Vera was really not in the mood (for obvious reasons), letting it go by setting a boundary in one sentence without making Claire feel bad about it. “I’m taking care of myself. Don’t worry. But again, get ready for me to reek like a Ninja Turtle when we meet up.”

Leon didn’t want to pester and pressure her into panic, but he had to ask. “Anything about Sherry? Her mother?”

“Unfortunately, still looking.” She sounded worried beyond being troubled. “There are things here other than just zombies, weird creatures — that skinless thing’s kind, but different.” Her sentence was over, but at the last minute, she added, “Not sentient like Mr. X, by the way. I was barely able to look around for good because of them. And I can’t help but worry, what if she jumped into sewage waterways to get away?—”

“Hey, Sherry is a smart girl, not a clueless child,” Leon interrupted. “She managed to make it all the way to that underground system on her own, remember? Unharmed.”

“But not with a monster chasing her — and… I can’t believe I’m saying this but she called it her father, you guys.”

The reveal fell between them like a flashbang, freezing the two in stunned silence.

Amidst the distant sounds of occasional groans and footsteps, the eerie silence hung in the air, unnaturally still, amplifying the snapping moment of the tension, as if the very building itself held its breath.

Vera’s entire spine straightened, sitting upright as if she’d swallowed a rod and looking like that too, not even questioning if she heard it right, like Leon was. “Oh what the fuck.”

“That thing was a man and it was Sherry’s father.” Claire’s static-crackling voice stumbled on her words, a hypothesis she was trying to make work. “The more I think about it the more it makes sense. Sherry’s mother, Annette, she… William, she said. About the creature responsible for making the elevator fall and rampaging. The reason for the misplaced interest in the ‘creature’ — all those weird questions she asked me is because it’s her husband.”

Leon was feeling more and more like he was hit by a vehicle on the road, getting up disoriented and not knowing what happened to him. “That means we just ran away because he simply looked like a monster.”

And thought he naturally would harm them.

“I fought back because he tried to fucking kill me,” Vera shot back, eyes darting everywhere, defensive yet hesitant, emphasizing with a jerk of her hand that held the Beretta. “But,” her voice got small. “But he did say something that lowered my ground enough that he almost got me. He said help me. He clearly said help me.”

“Good god,” Leon groaned, throwing his head back and staring up, despair creeping in. All that realization had accomplished was throwing at his face question after question.

What could have possibly turned the man into that?

If he was himself in there, just a father seeking his daughter, were others they’d come across like this too? They knew nothing about this outbreak, he was actively trying not to think about it and all the types of monsters they’d come across so far — how weird it was that it wasn’t just zombies, and now the absolute worst nightmare they had been ignoring so far for the sake of their sanity was closing in: humanity of these things — that calling them things simply because they were of unknown origin felt … wrong. “I’m getting a headache.”

Could Sherry’s father have been on their side all along? Or was Leon being way too hard to see some semblance of light in this hell?

“I feel like Sherry’s mother knows something about this,” Claire continued. “She was so professional, so about damage control. I can’t shake the feeling off.”

Leon didn’t want to assume the worst. Not anymore, at least. This entire thing had flipped his stomach upside down. “What could she possibly know? She could have been tracking her husband after whatever the hell it is that happened to him, that’s personally motivated. I think all of us can understand her what she’s going through—”

His jaw hung open in the shape of the last word coming out of his mouth when Vera cut him off, quite sharply, too. “We are getting ahead of ourselves here. Let’s focus on Sherry for a minute instead of exchanging theories about her family. It’s the kid who’s in danger, regardless of her father’s hypothetical intentions.”

“Alright.” This was the first time Leon had seen her express genuine anger since the revelation about Marvin’s turning, and it was for the sake of another person, a child. And she wasn’t wrong in wanting to progress. He accommodated to keep up with her pace, somewhat pleasantly surprised that Vera was focused and in the moment. “Can we assume all of this means the father wouldn’t harm her?”

Her forehead wrinkled in tension and her lips pulled sideways in a disapproving frown. A click of her tongue had preceded her sentence. “We can’t assume anything. For all we know, he’s been completely turned like all those undeads and creatures, but is going after Sherry because there’s an attachment there and it’s acting as an instinct—”

Leon couldn’t stop the nagging in his head from spilling. His words overflowed with urgency, gestures emphasizing enthusiasm and desire to be heard. “But what if, Vera, I can’t— We can’t just shut our hearts off to it! Maybe he isn’t chasing Sherry, but just trying to get to her… Maybe he attacked us because it looked like she was being abducted? We were strangers and he is her dad. And—And he could have appeared back there and killed Mr. X to keep Sherry safe.”

Vera had blatant distaste plastered on her face and Leon knew this was just going back to square one, but what if they could help him? Help this whole family?

Claire’s voice buzzed from the radio at that point, a bit depressed yet curt and decisive. “It’s not about that.”

He froze. “That’s… you sound certain.”

“I guess it’s right here that I tell you about something called the G-Virus.” Vera took her forehead in one hand and let out a dejected sound as Leon was fully alert to Claire’s explanation. “Remember when Irons mentioned it?”

Leon said, “The what now?” but the way Vera was acting had him squinting his eyes at her, even though she was looking down at Marvin’s gun, expression hidden.

G. This was the third time he was hearing about it, each time with increasing suspicion of what importance it could be holding. Hell, Irons was paid to protect the production of this G thing by the sender of the emails — he was ordered to get rid of his own subordinates, he wasn’t misremembering this.

“I found a report here in an office Annette disappeared into. Report on some kind of experiment.” As Claire went on, Leon bent down to search Vera’s bags for the files he had taken from Irons’ office under her shocked gaze. “It… It explains what Sherry’s father is. And some of the creatures I’ve seen here. As well as what he might want with her.”

Everything beyond the experiment part of the sentence flew right over his head the moment he heard it.

Experiment. Experiment? The disease swallowing up this whole city, discriminating fully against the innocents, was made? It wasn’t an accident, it wasn’t some apocalyptic event — it was created intentionally?

Leon's voice quivered, barely suppressed shock and anger bubbling in his skin like blisters, and he didn’t realize the hand he was holding the radio was shaking as well while he kept going through the bag in jerky movements. "So this outbreak, this chaos, all the death and suffering... it was all a result of a goddamn experiment?"

Claire sighed. "I can't say for certain about the outbreak itself, but this report, it's mind-boggling. Let me just read you a portion of it—you’ll know then."

Leon was growing more urgent. "Go ahead, Claire."

Half of the contents of those exchanges had slipped his mind, and he had to make sure if he was remembering right.

“The G-Virus clinical trial will be entering its final phase very soon. Before ‘G’— the new creature that will surpass humans — is born, allow me to predict a few things about its biology and biological functions—”

“New creature that will surpass humans,” Leon repeated incredulously, now holding the copy of emails he was looking for.

Vera reached for the papers. “What is that?”

“See for yourself,” he handed it to her, looking up from his crouched position, monitoring her closed-off expression quite closely while also following the lines she read he’d gone through already.

Police Chief Irons,

As thanks for your unwavering support, I have deposited a small sum into your account, to use as you see fit. I hope I can count on you to maintain surveillance over your subordinates, especially the ones who survived that mansion. Get rid of them if you must.

W. B.

His gut was telling him something.

W.B.

Who was this?

As Claire continued reading, the words painted a disturbing picture. "About Intelligence," she went on, her voice tinged with concern and dread. "The subject's intelligence will begin to drop immediately, with their linguistic abilities disappearing within a matter of days. Finally, they will lose their capacity to reason and their humanity. G will be a creature of pure instinct, driven only by a need to survive and reproduce."

Subject. Intelligence deteriorating. Loss of humanity.

Police Chief Irons,

I ran into some trouble with HQ. The suits want to take the fruit of my research away. But don't worry, this will all blow over soon. You just keep doing what I tell you to and everything will be all right.

W. B.

This was unreal.

Who could do this to someone, call them subject — such dehumanization that was bordering on the violation of human rights.

He couldn’t wrap his head around any of it.

Inside, Leon felt his own mental state teetering on the edge of a breakdown., barely finding it in him to stop Claire and ask a million questions he knew she had no answers for, yet Vera was only tight-lipped, face slightly pale, a simple crease between her eyebrows as she scanned the mail exchange — handling everything a lot better than he was.

Police Chief Irons,

You are to up the security around my lab. Your muscleheads are to shoot any suspicious person on sight. Doesn't matter if they kill them, or even if they're employees. I'm so close to completing G, and no asshole is going to get in my way.

W. B.

Claire continued to divulge the disturbing details, the implications of their discoveries growing even more unsettling. "Physical abilities say... Due to its unusually accelerated cell division—evolution—it will be highly adaptable to any environment," she explained. "Furthermore, with its amazing ability to repair itself through regeneration, it will be extremely difficult to completely kill it with any conventional small firepower."

Leon's mind raced as he connected the dots. Sherry's father, William, had displayed the same remarkable resilience. Despite Vera's relentless barrage of bullets, he had refused to be taken down. It seemed that William and the relentless Mr. X shared a common trait—they were both seemingly indestructible forces.

Were they part of the same experiment, different subjects of the same twisted research? It appeared that this was the true nature of their enemy, the reason behind everything they had faced so far. But what about the zombies? What role did they play in this web of experiments? Were they yet another gruesome creation?

Lost in his thoughts, Leon found himself needing to ground his racing mind. He placed his hand on the ground and slowly rotated his body, settling into a seated position with his back against the couch, his body shivering from a mixture of cold and emotional turmoil. Pulling his knees towards his chest, he rested his elbows on them, his freezing fingers flexing. The surreal nature of their discoveries was starting to overwhelm him, and a numbness began to seep into his being.

A brief moment of silence caused by nobody knowing what to say passed, which Claire had to interrupt. “You guys are awfully reactionless.”

Leon's eyebrows furrowed, his focus shifting entirely to Vera as he sensed her inner struggle. He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to maintain his composure while searching for any signs of vulnerability in her forced blankness. He couldn't ignore the tight grip she had on the paper or the intensity in her gaze.

Police Chief Irons,

Get your shit together and do your fucking job! I TOLD YOU I need more security in the sewers! Don't you know how critical of a time this is for me!? As for the money, I can pay you whatever once I take over, but not before. Why don't you get that!? Never forget how expendable you are.

W. B.

“Oh I’m reacting, alright.” Leon took a huge breath through his nose, nostrils flaring, trying to wash away the sudden surge of exhaustion. “Having a hard time processing is all.”

Vera nodded silently, her distant pensiveness apparent. She carefully passed the emails back to him, and he couldn't help but give her a confused look, curious about her reaction to what she had just read. "It's all a bit hard to make sense of," she finally spoke, her words devoid of any commentary on the contents of the emails, but Leon understood her restraint. It wasn't the right moment to delve into the details when Claire was providing them with crucial information. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Claire's voice held a touch of irony as she responded, on the verge of laughter. "You're telling me that after everything we've seen?"

“I don’t know.” Leon watched as she fumbled with her words. “Everything’s bizarre at this point.”

His concern deepened. He could sense there was something more, something weighing heavily on her mind, but couldn’t really ask.

“Then you’re about to short-circuit because of what I’m about to tell you—” Claire's voice took on a more serious tone, dripping with worry. "This is the most concerning thing I've come across in the report, and it's directly related to Sherry. It's why I felt compelled to share this with you in the first place."

Leon's posture straightened instinctively, one leg stretching forward as he leaned in, his hand propping up the radio against his mouth. "We're listening," he said, his voice steady but filled with scared apprehension.

“Here goes,” Claire began. “G's most remarkable feature will be its intense desire to reproduce. It will instinctively search out humans with DNA that closest matches its own and implant an embryo in them. But the chances of success are very low and if the DNA is not a close enough of a match, an underdeveloped G creature will be produced instead.” A couple heartbeats passed before she gave them the most important and relevant point to this report. “I suppose the only ones who might be a close enough of a match would be any biological children of the subject, though…”

A sickening feeling gripped Leon's stomach, his hopeful vision of helping just one more family out of this hell-pit contorting into one of unsalvageable despair, he ran a hand down his face in defeat. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Please tell me by reproduction and embryo you don’t mean the usual way.” Vera sucked her teeth and leaned down, starting to rearrange the contents of her bag, closing the zippers. “For fuck’s sake this is the only instance I want it to go the Alien movie route or something, just not—“

Claire also didn’t want to think about any of that, it being obvious from how she cut into Vera’s train of thought. “I have absolutely no idea what any of this means. I’m just telling you it matches and I don’t think Sherry is safe from him.”

“W.B. is William Birkin,” Vera blurted, all of a sudden, a random bursting rather than an exclamation of horrified dawning, she met Leon’s petrified look with a regretful grimace of all things that did not fit the mood at all. “Sherry’s father is the creator of this G-Virus. Of course she isn’t safe from him. Shit, he fell victim to his own creation.”

Leon just stared up at her, rendered speechless, the scattered clues he was sensing were there lining up by a new order that made sinisterly more sense. What once was proof against Irons was now contextualized by a new layer of horror.

Vera didn’t know just what she had done to him with that — what she had given him.

Up until now, he was pushing his exponentially growing frustration at the end of his priority list, the relentless ache within his chest, a yearning for answers that seemed forever out of reach. The longer this nightmarish world failed to take him down with it and kept throwing tragedy after tragedy at his face, the more he longed for someone or something to hold accountable — for a utopian justice in the horizon where there was a definitive bad guy in all of this. He craved a tangible target for his pain, a face or a name to direct his anger towards.

But in the midst of the mayhem and suffering, Leon found no such outlet for his emotions. There was no specific person to blame, no entity to bear the burden of his wrath. It was a maddening sense of helplessness that gnawed at his soul that had only pushed him to just keep going. Keep going and focus on protecting everyone – which he had colossally failed at.

The aftermath of Marvin's tragic end and Vera's profound grief had left an indelible mark on his soul, and for their sake alone, he coveted an epicenter to project his sorrow onto, a focal point for his thirst for justice — he wanted to inflict the same pain upon another of a young girl burying her own father. The shattered fragments of a broken family, the disintegration of love and trust — it all demanded retribution, someone had to answer for this, right? But the cruel reality was that there was no one to condemn, no one responsible to direct his anger towards. The vast unknown loomed before him, shrouded in darkness and secrecy.

The frustration burned deep within Leon, fueling a self-loathing that threatened to consume him, berating him for his lack of knowledge, for his inability to make sense of the senseless, for not being able to do anything about it. The weight of his ignorance crushed him, leaving him feeling utterly useless in the face of the horrors that surrounded him. He yearned to be of help, to find solutions and bring justice to the darkness that plagued their lives. But without the knowledge, without the answers, he felt lost and powerless.

What Vera had done just now, was pointing at something — someone, and telling him this is it. A face. A gravitational point in the middle of directionless chaos.

And it was a dangerous thing to do, even if she was theorizing. Because Leon would take it and run with it, run after it, when his goal was to get as many people as he could out of this city.

It was Claire’s crackling voice that shook him off from his daze. “What? What are you talking about? What do you mean it was William?”

“I’ve heard enough.” Leon stood up, signaling Vera to follow him, that he was point and she was his six, making for the stairs on the right, the route in mind being the Chief’s office and the parking garage. “Claire, move out. We’ll meet you in the sewers.”

“How will you—”

“We’ll figure something out. You focus on protecting yourself and finding Sherry, okay?” I told you I need more security in the sewers, was what the mail read. Whether W.B. was William Birkin or not, a good chunk of paid-off officers were patrolling the area, something valuable was being protected. “And be careful. The sewers aren't as insignificant as we thought. Irons was taking bribes to guard that place because this W.B. person was working on that G-Virus of yours in there. I think that’s the reason why it’s crawling with the monsters you’re talking about.”

“W.B. as in William Birkin?” Claire wasn’t letting it go, and it put a scowl on Leon’s face. “You’re saying Sherry’s father is responsible for this mess?”

“That’s what the evidence suggests.” Vera stepped beside him to talk closer to the radio as they entered the waiting room. “How else can there be a singular, different entity out there that’s just the odd one out and unexplainable? Randomly appearing? William was the creator and he somehow came into contact with the virus and became that—”

Leon was about to creak open the door leading to the east hallway, but he halted, turning around. She wasn’t reaching. He knew she wasn’t. But everything in him wanted to reject it for his own sanity instead of jumping headfirst into it, he just couldn’t do this without definitive proof of it first, or it would remain eating him up from the inside slowly. “Bit of a stretch, don’t you think? We saw the lickers, the dogs—”

“The dogs?”

“The dogs. Mr. X.” Opening the door, he checked the perimeter, pointing his flashlight and simultaneously Matilda at both directions in the hallway. “Not necessarily a pattern, is it? William could very well be another—”

“William and Annette are scientists.” Vera jogged to be next to him again, and extended her hand as if she was pointing at something obvious between them, matching Leon’s walking pace as he marched towards the now opened shutter that previously separated Irons’ safe area from the rest of the station. “They are virologists.”

“Oh.” God damnit. “Could be a coincidence.”

“Why are you so adamant on rejecting it?”

Claire trailed in. “You guys—”

“Why are you so insistent on it?”

“Because the dots connect themselves, Leon—”

“No, you connected them.”

“Because it was right there.” Vera was taking this quite personally, a spark of paranoia in there that Leon didn’t get why it was there, following him into Irons’ office fervently and leaving the door wide open behind her. “Why are you being suspicious?”

This was unsettling him, leaving him with a nagging sense of unease. What was it about this connection that she felt so strongly about? It was a dangerous path to tread, one that could consume him with unjustified suspicion and mistrust if he allowed it.

Claire tried again, her static-delivered voice hesitant and uncomfortable. “Helloooooo—”

“Why do you think? What am I — what are we supposed to do with this information?” Instead of circling around her, Leon reached forward to put his palm on the door and shut it, he hadn’t meant that to be an intimidating move that half-caged her against the door, only noticing it when her eyes grew wide, and immediately backed off the moment he noticed it was as if he’d just walked right into her face in a confrontational manner. “If I even remotely consider this, I won’t be able to leave it alone. I will want to get to the bottom of it. And it’s not exactly the right time for detective work to expose evil — we don’t even have concrete proof in the first place. So, let’s not do this right now, yeah, Vera? Let’s just save Sherry and get the hell out of this city.”

Her body, once poised and confident, seemed to instinctively tighten, a subtle tensing of her muscles that betrayed the impact of his words. Her gaze, once steady and unwavering, momentarily averted, darting back to meet his, shoulders drawing slightly inward, as if seeking shelter within herself, and a flush had settled on her cheeks, coloring her complexion with embarrassment.

Leon felt like he got punched in the stomach.

What the hell are you doing? She’s just trying to help — and after Marvin too, you asshole, you fucking dick.

“I’m sorry.” He raised his hands in an apologetic manner, eyebrows lowering softly along with his tone. “I’m sorry. I got heated up—”

Vera cleared her throat, looking away, and then looking back at him again. “No, it’s fine.”

“It’s not, I’m—”

“No, you’re right, Leon.” Vera offered a small nod, her features softening as she refused his words, genuinely in the opinion she’s sharing and not one touch of sarcasm in there. “If anything, I’m the problem for going all conspiracy theorist on this. What are we, some ragtag team of neighborhood superheroes or something? I didn’t even mean to suggest an investigation in the middle of all this, but now that you say it, I should have kept to myself instead of running my mouth. It’s just making everyone paranoid.”

She was looking for someone to blame just like he was — more than he was.

And it was in Vera’s job description to tie loose threads, of course she was big on speculating and taking ideas to places, brainstorming until she got where she needed to be. Leon had taken this way personally than it needed to be, so unprofessionally at that.

The internal turmoil had his heart aching. “There’s no—”

“Are you done quarreling? I would like to leave,” Claire said finally, taking the opportunity to wrap this up.

“Oh…” He was even more embarrassed at her disappointed teacher tone, if it was possible. “Yeah, Claire, sorry about that…”

Thankfully, she didn’t continue commenting on the argument, possibly in favor of not wasting any more time. “Stay safe, you two.”

“Will do.”

Her disconnection from the line left Vera and Leon standing awkwardly in silence.

She was the one to salvage the situation, starting to walk backwards, footsteps muffled on the thick oriental rug, she gestured with her head while adjusting her backpack. “We should be on our way as well.”

Leon internally sighed with relief. “Yeah.”

“Let’s hope Claire finds Sherry before we get there because it might take a while.”

God, Leon hoped so as well. This was merely a child they were talking about.

The thing about dissociation was you didn’t know you were doing it — and the entire way to the Chief’s personalized elevator, Leon was out of it, his body taking control and his mind succumbing into thoughts of everything he couldn’t quite process while Claire was dumping it down on them.

The image of Sherry, a defenseless child pursued by a hulking mutant, once her father, seared into his mind, the intention of transforming her into an abomination purely with distorted instinct and regressed reason was unfathomable.

Leon didn’t know what to be horrified about, who to mourn for, the emotional labor alone was soul-sucking. Was William aware of what he was doing, that he was deteriorating, was he in there still?

(Help me, he’d apparently said. Help me. Leon didn’t know how. He had no idea what to do.)

And he, in a twisted way, saw how this was a warped parallel of Marvin and Vera. This was what would have happened if the lieutenant hadn’t done what he did. This was what he was desperate to avoid.

What Leon couldn’t imagine Vera going through was happening to Sherry right now.

Failure was not an option, not when a young life hung in the balance. Leon couldn’t live with himself if he wasn’t able to save this little child in the end. He had to at least be able to do this.

He had to.

It was Vera's revelation about the colossal sinkhole dominating the city center that jolted Leon back to the present.

Apparently, an ongoing construction project had turned the once bustling urban landscape into a labyrinth of exposed pipes and canals, resembling roads leading directly into the depths of the sewers. It seemed like a suspicious stroke of luck, considering Leon had resigned himself to descending into the unknown depths of a repugnant manhole.

Right as she’d begun to share her plan with him, something had gnawed at Leon's mind — Vera's unnaturally extensive knowledge of navigating the labyrinthine sewer systems. It was as if she had ventured through those ‘secret’ passageways before.

Unable to suppress his curiosity any longer, he mustered the question that had been festering within him. "How do you know all this?"

A faint smile played at the corners of her lips, a fleeting glimmer of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Well, I am a private investigator," she admitted, her voice laced with a hint of mystery. "But the less enigmatic answer is that I've spent my entire life here, learning the city's secrets. It's a skill to find the best hiding spots when you want to evade prying eyes."

Leon's mind raced, trying to make sense of the puzzle pieces that were gradually falling into place. Vera's explanation didn't quite add up. The email exchange he had intercepted mentioned W.B. hiding something in the sewers, possibly the elusive G-Virus, with Irons serving as his protector and ordering his men to shoot intruders on sight. It begged the question: How could Vera choose such a guarded and patrolled location as a meeting spot or hiding place?

Furthermore, if Vera was truly familiar with the city's secrets, did she know about the police presence in the sewers? It was highly unlikely that she could have avoided the knowledge, given the tight security. Had she dismissed it as an unknown motive of Irons, or did she possess information about W.B. and the G-Virus?

Was that… Was that why she could confidently say W.B. was William Birkin?

Leon's skepticism lingered, far from satisfied with her seemingly straightforward response. "And just what have you been up to?" he probed, a note of suspicion creeping into his voice.

For a fleeting moment, a ghost of her lighthearted nature resurfaced, though now tinged with weariness — unaware of what Leon was stuck on. She avoided his gaze, the elevator ride serving as a temporary shield from his inquisitive eyes. Her words carried a teasing undertone, albeit subdued and fatigued. "Nothing you can prove, officer," she said, leaving a trail of curiosity in her wake as she stepped out of the elevator before him.

Once they climbed the stairs up to the garage and the barred automatic doors were in sight, Vera took him from the elbow and whispered, “Leon, hey,” her eyes darting at everywhere but him as if she were trying to solve a problem. “Stop for a moment.”

He was immediately in alert mode, alarmed that he wasn’t perceiving what she obviously did. “What? Is everything alright?”

“Something’s different here.”

“Different how?”

“Something changed.”

Leon tilted his head, turning around to understand what she meant, Matilda readied in his hand.

Rain was still pouring relentlessly, forming a shimmering sheet of water on the concrete floor, the steady hum of flickering fluorescent lights provided the only respite from the engulfing darkness. Everything looked all the more uncanny now that Vera had said it like that.

Rows of cars stood as abandoned guardians of some sort, windows smeared with grime and neglect, some bore evidence of violent encounters, shattered glass and dented metal, reminders of the desperate struggles that had taken place within these confines, and others simply sat in solemn stillness, owners long gone, leaving only remnants of their former lives behind. Patches of darkness lurked between the vehicles, casting ominous shadows that danced and distorted as the feeble lights flickered, the spaces feeling confined, suffocating almost, the metallic scent of gasoline lingering in the air, mixing with the mustiness of forgotten corners, creating an unsettling combination that prickled his senses.

He found what was fundamentally wrong almost immediately after a brief scanning of the surroundings. It was right in their faces.

Up ahead, a once inaccessible door was now illuminated by a vivid green sign that pierced through the muted surroundings. "That door's been breached," he declared, gesturing towards it with the barrel of Matilda at the ready.

“That goes to the jail area.”

“Jail?”

“Yeah. Looks like someone’s visiting.”

As if on cue, the air filled with the sound of approaching footsteps — swift, yet faint, their rhythm too delicate to belong to a human. The clicky cadence of nails striking against concrete hinted at more than one set of feet, their presence accompanied by a low, ominous growling.

Leon's heart skipped a beat; he knew exactly what lurked in the shadows. He and Claire had faced these on their way to the orphanage, right after securing the keycard from Irons' office.

A zombified dog.

However, Vera remained oblivious to what awaited. Unaware of the imminent danger, she uttered a single word, her voice raising a couple pitches up with astonishment and a strange, almost endearing familiarity. "Zeytin?"

Oh, no.

Vera could only tell this was Zeytin from the spiky black collar she’d specifically bought for him, but at the same time, was having a hard time registering just how wrong the dog she knew from his puppy days looked.

Zeytin’s once-sleek coat now clung to his bony frame in ragged tatters, like ghostly remnants of his former glory. The patches of fur that remained were discolored and matted, caked with dirt and dried blood, blending seamlessly with exposed flesh, bones protruding through patches of torn tissue, their stained white hue serving as a stark contrast to the surrounding decay. His eyes were milky and glazed over, unseeing, yet focused at the same time, on them, growling just as he did when perceiving an enemy, but was wounded somehow — every movement it made was a twisted display of both agony and determination, he was limping with each stride, as if the very act of movement were a painful ordeal.

Rationally, Vera knew that Zeytin was long gone, just like her father. She’d hoped he was safe from all this since it was just people that came back from the dead, yet, here she was being proven false again.

But the vulnerable part of her, the child who had lost her entire family, yearned for a familiar connection she could find rest in. It was this desperate longing that made Vera see beyond the grotesque sight before her. She saw the playful puppy she had named all those years ago when he was fostered under Marvin for obedience training. She saw the best boy she used to visit at the station after school, disregarding the regulations that meant nothing to her. She saw her oldest and most loyal friend, the one she had planned to adopt after his retirement in a few months.

However, Leon's outstretched arm halted Vera's longing to approach and comfort her beloved companion. His voice carried a sense of urgency and concern as he intervened, “Vera, don’t,” — pointing his gun at Zeytin, her dog in spirit if not in body and name.

Confusion and anguish filled her as she questioned Leon's actions, her heart pounding with fear and desperation. "What are you doing?" she pleaded, getting between the gun and Zeytin, her voice trembling with disbelief and a flicker of hope that her connection with him could somehow be salvaged.

“You gotta be kidding me.” Leon's exasperated groan filled the air as the Doberman lunged forward, its paws digging into the ground as it charged towards Vera's unsuspecting back. In a split second, Leon reacted, pushing her out of harm's way just as the dog collided with his chest, knocking him off balance. The impact sent Matilda skidding away, out of reach, while Vera stumbled sideways, her heart pounding with fear and adrenaline.

Zeytin, despite his wounded state, had moved with unexpected speed, his hunger driving him forward, and his sheer strength was making it a frantic struggle for Leon to keep the dog at bay, his hand firmly grasping its throat. Desperation filled his voice as he shouted, “Get off of me!”

Leon's outstretched hand blindly searched for Matilda, his life hanging in the balance. Zeytin's jaws were snapping dangerously close to his face, and Vera witnessed the desperate hunger in the dog's eyes — the same hunger she had faced countless times when confronted by ravenous zombies.

"Shoot it!" Leon's dreadful command pierced through her confusion. "Vera, shoot it!"

At that moment, Vera snapped out of her stunned state. But doubt and fear gripped her, rendering her immobile. This was a dog. This was Zeytin. "What? No!—" Her voice trailed off, what he wanted her to do overwhelming her.

The dog thrashed in Leon's grip, almost breaking free, its hind legs propelling it forward with renewed force. He was inches away from sinking his teeth into Leon's vulnerable flesh. "Shit! Come on!" Leon's urgent cry for help spurred her into action, instincts kicking in, shattering her paralysis.

Her trembling hands quickly grabbed the shovel hanging from her backpack, instinct making her unable to grab Marvin’s Samurai Edge for this. Vera’s eyes closed after locking onto where the dog was least erratic in movement, which was his torso area, and swung it forward to knock him off of Leon. The yelp Zeytin made upon being hit and the thick cracking pierced her right in the heart, and she heard him slide across the concrete, only opening her eyes right after when the only sounds following were Leon’s relieved breathing and him scrambling to get up.

Overwhelmed by guilt, Vera couldn't help but rush to Zeytin's motionless form, sinking to her knees beside him. The sight of her own dog lying there lifeless horrified her to the core. Her hands hovered above the spot where she had struck him, the words of apology tumbling from her lips in a desperate chant. "I'm sorry, oh, Zizi, I'm so sorry, buddy boy. Oh, god..."

Amidst her sorrow, she barely registered the clatter of Matilda as Leon retrieved it and the sound of his approaching footsteps. "Hold it down, it's not dead yet," he urged.

Leon's intention to shoot the dog mirrored Vera's apprehension. She looked up at him, choked with emotion. "We can just leave. Let's leave. We don't have to do this to him."

Vera could see the conflict in Leon's eyes, a mixture of hesitance and experience, revealing that he had encountered situations like this before. It dawned on her that Zeytin was not an isolated case, and the other dogs in the kennels had likely suffered the same fate. "I gotta shoot it, Vera," Leon finally spoke with sympathy and necessity.

Vera's arms shook as she weakly positioned the shovel's handle over Zeytin's neck, her grip unsteady, and right then, he started weakly whining and panting, head attempting to turn around, milky eyes right on her, and she panicked when she saw Leon aim his gun. “No, don’t!”

“What do you mean, no! Hold it steady—”

Zeytin was slowly regaining strength, and his crying and whining were as well, pulling on Vera’s abused heartstrings, making it impossible for her to follow through with the final blow. She couldn't bear the thought of causing him more pain. "You can't do it right now, just give me a moment!" she pleaded.

Leon's climbing frustration and mirrored panic echoed through the parking lot the more she didn’t let him do anything. “You can’t be serious!”

Vera's voice cracked, her cry resonating throughout the space. "He's my dog! He's Zeytin! I can't just..." Her words snuffed off, lost in a sea of grief and anguish.

"It's not your dog anymore!”

She knew it. Deep down, she knew. Zeytin was no longer the dog she once knew, and the guilt of not being able to do the right thing tore at her soul. If she couldn't bring herself to let go of Zeytin, how could she have faced the ultimate decision with her own father if she had been there with him?

Marvin had understood her and what would have happened better than anyone. He had seen her vulnerability, her compassion, and her weakness. It didn’t matter now that she was twice more unstable in not wanting to let Zeytin go after losing him, he knew his daughter.

And that’s how, despite the presence of two armed individuals, one restraining him and the other with a gun aimed at his head, Zeytin's feral instinct overpowered them all, the previously incapacitated dog suddenly breaking free from Vera’s hold and lunging directly at her neck, a chilling snarl emanating from his ravaged throat as both of them tumbled on the ground, Vera only being able to get a hold of him through his collar, the spikes making it hard to push him away.

With no warning whatsoever from Leon, a deafening gunshot reverberated through the garage, punctuating the air with a burst of violence, time seemed to freeze as the bullet found its mark simultaneously, piercing the dog's neck just inches away from Vera's desperate grasp on his collar, the impact causing the canine's body to convulse, blood splattering across Vera's face, mixing with her tears.

Zeytin collapsed on top of her, his lifeless form weighing heavily on her chest. The world around her faded into a haze as her senses dulled, overridden by the cacophony of her own ragged breaths coming in rapid, shallow gasps, the sound amplifying in her ears, drowning out any semblance of coherent thought.

The weight of her dog's lifeless body pressed down on her before sliding off on the ground beside her, a physical manifestation of the heaviness that settled within her. In that haunting stillness, her mind became a void, thoughts dissipating like mist, leaving only an overwhelming numbness, Vera's hand, still clutching the collar that once adorned her beloved companion, trembled uncontrollably, the warmth of Zeytin's blood mingling with her tears, staining her skin. She didn’t hear Leon’s terrified shock as he yelled: “Who the hell—”

And she also didn’t hear a third party ordering: “Stay sharp!” — Zeytin was stirring again, her heart picking up pace.

Another bullet lodged itself just beside the gash the previous shot had made on his throat, right after Leon said, “I’m sorry.” Vera didn’t know if she flinched from the loud bang, or from how the poor dog’s features were still twitching after that, completely foreign to her.

A hand was on her shoulder, the firmness and the warmth shocking her back to the moment. “Hey, you okay? Are you hurt?”

Leon was crouched by her, heavily concerned, and for whatever reason, her brain chose this moment to relay the information to her that someone else was there with them as well, her eyes zoning in on the shadowed silhouette instead of the blond beside her. “I’m good,” she murmured, propping herself up from the elbows and sitting up next, sorrow replacing disgust as she inspected them, her gaze finally falling on the creature that was no longer Zeytin.

Leon's voice cut through the air, harsh and edged with anger. "What were you thinking?" Vera's head shot up, momentarily dumbstruck by the accusation in his tone, but his words were directed at the figure ahead. Leon released his grip on her shoulder, stepping forward with purpose, his gestures sharp and commanding. "There was so much movement, you could have easily shot her instead of the dog. Her head was right there."

With a deliberate and unhurried pace, the woman in the cream colored trench coat emerged from the shadows, her short bob swaying with each confident step. Unfolding her badge, she revealed her identification, sophisticated voice laced with authority. "FBI.” The sunglasses hiding her eyes added to the air of mystery surrounding her, a tilt of her head conveying a silent message, as if raising an eyebrow. She hadn’t even needed to say, ‘I shoot a gun better than any of you can’ out loud as an explanation, the single word had conveyed all of that coupled with how cool she’d said it. “A thanks would have sufficed instead of a lecture on aiming."

Leon's voice softened, mingling with gratitude upon learning her identity. "Sorry. Thank you..." But before he could finish his sentence, the woman swiftly raised her gun again, firing a third shot that pierced through the dog's head just as it sprang back to life, causing Vera to jump in surprise, she hadn’t even noticed it twitch from being too focused on her. Leon's gaze shifted to the lifeless corpse, his previous complaints melting away. "For your help."

“Surprised you two made it this far.” Her attention got diverted by the clicking of heels stopping right in front of her, looking up to see the woman frowning down at her. “Did the blood get into your mouth?”

The clipped tone directed at Vera and the feeling of being watched underneath those glasses made her feel young and inexperienced as a teenager, fingers coming up to her cheek to feel around. “What?”

“Don’t touch your face, you’ll smear it around.” She immediately dropped her hand at her command. “Did it get into your mouth?”

Her mouth was bitter for a different reason altogether, but Vera had the feeling the woman would raise her gun for a fourth shot if she wanted to see what would happen and said yes to that question. “I don’t taste anything.”

“Good. You’re not infected, then. Keep it that way.” She sounded cold and indifferent about the bullet that was just dodged compared to Leon who immediately tensed up over the words — it was as if the sunglasses shielded not only her eyes but also any trace of warmth or empathy. “Here's a piece of advice: try not to let your emotions get the best of you next time, unless you want to bring your friend down with you too.”

Guilt flooded all her senses. Leon yelling at her about almost letting him die would be easier to bear than this kind of shaming reprimand, highlighting the potential consequences of her emotional state. The weight of her actions and the danger she had inadvertently put Leon in settled heavily upon her. She lowered her gaze, feeling her own inexperience and vulnerability in the face of the woman's stern presence. “Yeah… Thanks…”

Leon helped her stand up, casting a brief glance at the FBI agent while he focused on wiping the blood off Vera’s face carefully, using his sleeve and his gloves interchangeably, momentarily cupping the side of Vera’s face to hold her still, and it shouldn’t have made her stomach swoop the way it did, her eyes didn’t know where to look as he did that and spoke at the same time. “FBI, huh? So you know about this and how it spreads?”

She let out a faint scoff, her response dripping with a touch of derision. "Doesn't take a genius to know it's transmitted through bodily fluids."

Leon's hand halted its motion, his forehead creased with a hint of concern. "Were you informed by the FBI or did you discover it on your own?" Leon hurried to wipe remaining splatters off with his thumbs as she began to saunter away without an answer, and he jogged a couple steps after her, a bit frantic. “What’s going on here?”

Unfazed by their inquiries, the agent smoothly evaded the probing. "Sorry, that information’s classified." Her tone left no room for further discussion, indicating her intention to go her own way.

Leon refused to let it go. Determination etched on his face, he pressed on. "Where are you going?"

Vera observed the exchange, her mind replaying the instances when Leon had shut her down particularly when she had knowingly shared information about William Birkin. The contrast between his previous reticence and his current fervent quest for answers did not go unnoticed.

The agent stopped walking, turning around to face them, the downward curve of her lips displeased — as she began to speak, her words carried a patronizing tone, as if addressing disobedient children who had failed to heed her well-intentioned advice. “Do yourself a favor: stop asking questions and get the hell out of here. Stick around for too long, and one of you might end up in a situation even worse than the one you just faced.”

"Hey, wait a sec! We're not finished here!" Leon called out after her, radiating with persistence as she continued to walk away, no hesitation whatsoever.

With that, she vanished behind the door leading to the jail area, leaving Vera and Leon staring in her wake. Vera's gaze lingered on Zeytin's lifeless form, her frown deepening as she surveyed the macabre scene before her. The pool of thick, congealed blood beneath him shimmered under the flickering fluorescent lights, a grim reminder of the excessive shots it had taken to finally bring him down, each bullet a cruel tribute to her lapse in judgment. She couldn't help but berate herself for not ending his suffering with a single shot from her magnum, sparing him from further agony.

As she pulled her beloved dog’s body away to a more secluded corner for privacy and covered him up with a piece of cloth hanging from the open trunk of a random car, burdened by not being able to bury him, Vera was faced with what her dad was worried about all this time.

Turn it off, don’t do this right now, she thought, basically drying her own tear ducts. Don’t think. Thinking slows you down—

The agent's near-miss gunshot had been a sobering wake-up call, a jolt that had shocked her out of her emotional turmoil and forced her to regain her composure. In a twisted way, she felt that she had deserved the scare, a necessary consequence of her actions.

— slow gets you killed.

Maybe she should have thanked the woman better.

Her departure was strangely captivating, she had seamlessly transitioned from savior to enigmatic figure, leaving them with more questions than answers. — and it clicked for Vera that she had been the one who’d made the door accessible. Within minutes she’d saved Vera from becoming dog food, given them disgruntled advice, and stalked away on to her own business without even revealing her name, not expecting anything in return, really. Though her demeanor had been distant and impassive, her actions hinted at an underlying act of benevolence, leaving Vera intrigued by the enigma before her.

Leon came up to Vera standing over Zeytin, his eyes ablaze with newfound resolve, head nodding in the door’s direction. "Come on, let's follow her."

She stood there, mouth agape, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in Leon's demeanor, going to pick up her shovel from the ground. "Why?" she blurted out, her confusion evident.

"Because she holds the answers," Leon replied, shoulders squared as if ready for battle, brimming with conviction. "She could tell us everything we need to know. Don't you want to find out?"

That agent could only tell Vera what she already knew, but it was a sentiment Leon didn’t share, her lack of interest could look suspicious to him, he’d already been weirded out by her W.B. outburst.

She began to move after one last goodbye glance to Zeytin, heart heavy, her steps aligning with Leon's, curious about what had gotten him to make a drastic change of heart like this. "I thought you didn't want to get involved in detective work," she reminded him.

Leon glanced back at her, a bit embarrassed about his words boomeranging back to him, but determined all the same. "I changed my mind. How wild is it that the answers to all our questions showed up right in front of us? We can't afford to pass up this opportunity."

Vera wasn’t above pettiness. “What are we supposed to do with the information if we get it?”

He looked troubled as they finally entered the jail the woman had disappeared into, he held Matilda ready, and she had Marvin’s Samurai Edge out. “Vera…”

“Your words, not mine.”

They walked past the quiet cells of the jail beneath the precinct that held only grumbling undead, only flashlights illuminating the way forward. “I know what I said, but… She’s FBI, it’s far more credible than aligning dots and initials on documents, you know?”

Vera's laughter carried a tinge of offense, an unexpected reaction amidst the weight of her recent loss. "Wow. Damn."

She really shouldn’t have brought up W.B. being William Birkin like some match the words kindergarten exercise, it was only now occurring to Vera how unprofessional it had looked to Leon. She had been all over the place.

“I don’t mean it like that.”

It was a surprise to her that she was, in fact, annoyed by this — her mood fluctuating despite her wanting to remain level-headed, the toll of this night’s devastation clearly catching up with her and exploding out as a random lashing out. “No, I get it. Mr. ‘I want concrete proof and there’s nothing more concrete than the FBI instead of a random private investigator I’ve known for half a day’—”

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted as a zombie lunged at them from one of the cells, its bony fingers reaching out through the bars. Vera jolted back, her heart pounding in her chest, while Leon instinctively moved closer, a protective instinct taking over. He’d begun to do this a lot lately, his hand finding its way to her shoulder or arm, offering comfort in the absence of words that couldn’t quite cross the distance. Despite his own uncertainties, he emanated with a presence that anyone would think they were safe with him that eased her fears. "You're fine," he reassured her, the words washing over her like a soothing balm. He had the qualities of a true guardian, really would have been a wonderful cop if nothing had gone wrong, one of the good ones. "Stay close to me."

How gentle and kind he was to her made Vera immediately regret yapping at him like that. Leon had been so patient with her, been with her through Marvin’s departure — and all she could do was be unjustifiably annoyed at him.

Their previous discussion, a pointless banter, dissipated with that. Vera couldn’t bring herself to point out the detour and how Claire was out there looking for Sherry all by herself, just assuming Leon intended to expedite their questioning and swiftly move forward. He needed this, and Vera had no right to stop him especially when she was hiding the things she did.

Her understanding of the truth behind the outbreak had made her complacent, causing her to overlook the desperation that drove Leon to seek answers. Lost in the chaos and her own struggles, she failed to realize the extent to which not knowing weighed on him. With the weight of holding everyone together on his shoulders, she failed to grasp the extent to which the uncertainty was driving him to the brink of breakage. His desire to find the FBI agent and uncover the truth was a logical response to his mounting frustration and the need for some sense of control in that sense.

She was a colossal asshole, both for not revealing to Claire and Leon the information they were basically entitled to for going through hell, and for getting annoyed that he’d inadvertently insulted her for her obvious sloppy job at providing connections he was right in questioning. She had no room to complain about anything or feel offended.

Choosing to shutting the fuck up next time, she ignored the haunting cacophony of growls and rattling bars filling the air, the eerie symphony of those unfortunate souls who had met their demise only to return as twisted abominations, pressing on, following Leon closely behind along the row of jail cells.

The last cell in the row held an unexpected surprise.

It was Ben Bertolucci, a familiar face she had last seen less than a week ago during their intel exchange — Irons had said he knew about Bertolucci, said he had snitched.

So he’d thrown her under the bus to derail Irons because he was put behind bars, huh?

In retrospect, Vera should be angry. She really should be furious with him, her body was still sore, and yes, there was the fuzziness of all the painkillers and the comfort of the healing herbs, but Irons had almost killed her because of Ben talking. Two of her wisdom teeth were gone for fuck’s sake, her mouth still tasted of copper.

But exhaustion consumed her. Irons was dead, his threat extinguished. Her father was gone, leaving an irreplaceable void in her heart. She’d just witnessed her dog being put down. In the grand scheme of things, none of it mattered anymore. The weight of her losses and the weariness of her journey pressed upon her, erasing any lingering resentment. All that remained was a profound sense of fatigue and the need to get away from everything and sleep for decades until she was whole and okay again.

He sat there, composed and untouched by the horrors that plagued the rest of the jail, a living, breathing human in this sea of undead abominations, donning an overcoat and large glasses, his hair stylishly swept back in a tiny low ponytail as he casually smoked a cigarette.

As Vera and Leon approached, their footsteps echoing through the cold, concrete corridor, Bertolucci snapped to attention, his face filled with excitement. "Hello?" His voice reverberated off the walls, carrying a glimmer of hope in this desolate place, as if he had stumbled upon a long-lost treasure in this forsaken place.

Leon, taken by surprise, couldn't contain his astonishment. “Hey!” He hurried forward, leaving Vera momentarily out of sight, approaching Bertolucci with a brew of awe, relief, and eagerness to establish communication.

“I don’t believe it," Bertolucci breathed, his voice filled with elation, his hand reaching out to grasp the cold metal bars that separated them. "A real human. Hello, human!"

His humor managed to get a small smile out of Leon. “You been here long?” He leaned closer to the cell door, inspecting it as if searching for a hidden mechanism that could grant Ben his freedom.

“Long enough!” the man exclaimed, laughing. “Are we the last ones alive?”

With a shake of his head, Leon attempted to assuage Ben's fears, slipping into the familiar role of a protector. "No, no, there are a few of us," he reassured, his words carrying a hint of hope, even though the reality was far bleaker than he let on.

And then, as Bertolucci's gaze shifted, his eyes locked onto Vera. Time seemed to freeze for a moment as their gazes met. Taking a step backward, his excitement waned, he released his grip on the bars, a single word escaping his lips. "Shit."

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Vera slid her hand into the pocket of Leon's jacket, her fingers curling around the fabric, while her other hand tightly gripped the Samurai Edge. A small smirk danced on her lips, a subtle challenge to his earlier reaction. If she wasn't angry before, she definitely was now, fueled by the implication that he might not have wanted her alive. "Thought you'd be happier to see me. Disappointed Irons hasn't gotten me yet?"

Ben, sensing the tension, raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Listen, I'm sorry. I had to look out for myself, alright? He and the suits make people disappear once they have ‘em, I couldn’t take the chance."

“So you rather he made me disappear instead?”

The timbre of Leon's voice instantaneously changed, taking on a deeper and accidentally intimidating tone, just on the edge of jagged irritation. It was a side of him Vera had never witnessed before. "What do you mean by that?" he demanded, his incredulity on the rise.

Vera ignored Leon for the moment, stepping closer to the cell, holstering the Samurai Edge for the moment and just stared. He had mistakenly believed he was safe within the confines of the cell, unaware that Vera's reach extended far beyond what he had anticipated. Without warning, her arm shot forward, seizing him by his tie and yanking him with such force that his head collided with the unforgiving iron bars. The impact shattered his glasses, the broken fragments clattering onto the ground as he cried out in pain, staggering backward.

Leon was late on yanking her away because of the shock, but he did, putting distance between the recovering Ben holding his bleeding nose and her, body acting as a shield as she paced around like a furious lioness. She pointed at him as Leon tried to swat away her hands. “That was for almost getting me killed!”

“Okay, okay, stop. Stop, Vera. I need you to calm down and take a few deep breaths. I understand that you're upset, but violence is never the answer—”

“We destroy skulls to put undeads down for good, what do you mean? Violence is the answer! We’re packed like the Terminator out here! Stop talking cop to me—!”

“Alright, alright, listen, we can’t harm each other and try to look out for one another at the same time, those are mutually exclusive. It's important to maintain control of our emotions, especially in heated situations in the midst of survival scenarios, it can leave us vulnerable to danger right now. Can you take a deep breath and try to calm yourself down? Step away for a moment.”

She sucked her teeth, making a tutting sound and backed off, raising her arms to let Leon know it was okay.

“Yeah, I deserved that,” Ben chuckled, the area underneath his nose was tinted with a red hue, he was raising his eyeglasses towards the light above and inspecting the damage. “You owe me money for this.”

“I owe you a fucking beating,” A wild defiance flickered across Vera's face, her eyebrows raised so high it caused discomfort. “Negotiate and the price starts going up, how does that sound?”

“How about you stop and tell me about the connection here,” Leon interrupted, half-trying to de-escalate the situation and half-really wanting to know.

A couple heartbeats of silence passed as she collected herself and cooled down, and Ben pocketed his glasses and flicked away his cigarette, crushing it under his foot, sharing a knowing glance with Vera. "Is he... you know?"

Vera scoffed, dismissing any need for subtlety. "He's cool," she assured, her tone laced with a hint of annoyance. "You don't have to tiptoe around it. Irons is dead."

A flicker of relief crossed Ben's face, his expression practically beaming. "Oh, thank God. There is justice in this world after all."

He didn’t ask how. He didn’t ask by who or what. Ben just took what he was given, happy that the bastard was gone at last.

Uncomfortable, Leon visibly distanced himself from the man in the cell, his unease stemming from the memories of Irons' demise. He had always been reluctant to celebrate anyone's death the way Ben was, regardless of how heinous they might have been, even when he’d told Vera that the man had gotten what he’d deserved. Taking a step back, he viewed Ben with suspicion and a touch of distaste. "What's this about?"

Vera took the lead, shedding light on their connection. “Ben here is a reporter. He was working on exposing Irons and I was lending him an invisible hand, so to speak. That’s why he was taken in, I’m guessing.”

There was recognition in Leon’s face, blue eyes flickering to the side as if remembering something. “He’s the rat?”

The reporter gave him the worst stink eye there ever was. “Excuse you, pig.”

“This pig is about to get you out of here, be glad he doesn’t hold grudges,” Leon responded, brushing off the insult without a trace of offense, glancing around. Vera realized that even though he’d said that, despite his assertive words, he didn't have a clear plan for freeing Ben from the cell, just looking to make him feel he was in good hands.

Vera's gaze shifted past the blond, landing on the power panel situated right beside the cell. She pointed it out, directing Leon's attention to it, and immediately spotted the issue. “Bingo,” she said, head mapping the cable paths. “That’s how we get him out.”

Leon's eyes trailed to the table positioned just beneath the panel, where a piece of paper lay. He picked it up and looked through its contents, his expression growing sour. “It says we need—”

“Electrical parts, yada yada yada, they just mean relays,” she waved him off, a plan starting to form in her head. “Don’t need that. We are not going back to the station, I swear to god.”

“Then, what?”

“We have like a sea of cars around here, I’ll just repurpose parts we need. I’m good at fixing things, so you get to watch me work.”

Leon briefly was fascinated at that, brows slowly rising and looking her up and down.

“Thank you, Inspector Gadget.”

“Not another word, I still am tempted to leave you here, Ben.”

Ben pretended to zip his lips up and throw away the key.

The FBI agent was forgotten for the moment.

Entering the dimly lit garage with Leon on the front as usual after letting him handle the radio call with Claire because it’d been his decision to take a detour, Vera navigated through the labyrinth of abandoned vehicles with him sticking close by, each one a potential source of goodies, her eyes scanning the surroundings, seeking out the car that might offer the salvaged parts necessary. It felt akin to trying to pick out the sweetest, best tasting watermelon. And after a few moments of contemplating, her gaze fell upon an old sedan tucked away in a corner, it seemed relatively intact compared to the others, which was always a good thing.

“That one,” she said, and Leon nodded, accompanying her.

She approached the vehicle, cautiously inspecting it, popping open the hood, revealing an engine compartment brimming with a network of wires and components.

Leon called out behind her, also leaning in a bit. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just stand guard. I’ll be finished in about five minutes.”

“That fast, huh?”

“Blink and you’ll miss it,” Vera said as she grasped the front of the car with both hands and fully got immersed, having no doubts about leaving the protection duty to Leon and giving all her attention to the car. Her experienced eyes navigated through the tangle, seeking out the wiring harness — a complex mesh of colorful cables that could potentially provide the necessary wires and connectors for the power panel.

Thankful that she’d packed her backpack with a trusty set of tools, Vera carefully removed the screws and clips that secured the wiring harness, and with delicate precision, she disconnected it from its points of attachment. Upon the successful extraction, she gently placed it on the ground and began examining it wire by wire. She searched for cables of the appropriate gauge and color that matched the damaged or missing wires within the power panel. As she identified suitable candidates, she carefully cut and separated them from the harness, ensuring she left enough length for future connections. The salvaged wires were then collected and secured with zip ties, creating a makeshift bundle.

Next, her attention was turned to the car's interior. She rummaged through the dashboard, searching for switches and buttons that resembled the ones she needed to replace. After some time, the spotting of a collection of well-preserved ones had her humming. With nimble fingers, she extracted the salvaged switches from their mounting points, taking care not to damage them. She inspected each switch, comparing them to the faulty ones she’d detected on the power panel, and carefully disconnected the corresponding wires.

Leon was watching, she could feel his eyes on her. “You sure you need to be watching me instead of the precinct?” She moved swiftly but deliberately, skillfully connecting the salvaged switches to the newly acquired wires from the car's harness.

The clicking around of his weapons were audible as he shifted around. “Well, whatever you’re doing is far more interesting.”

Vera would have said something clever in return, but she basically forgot to, making a noise instead, her mind telling her that she didn’t exactly have wire connectors lying around but did have tape for the next step, and she ensured each connection was secure, minimizing the risk of future failures.

Feeling a surge of excitement, she proceeded to the car's fuse box, a small compartment housing a myriad of fuses and relays. She analyzed each component, seeking replacements for that one little missing electrical part within the power panel and a fuse, and with a keen eye, she identified compatible ones, removing them, and finally, gathering all her salvaged components —a collection of wires, switches, and the fuse and relay— and carried them back to the power panel.

With steady hands, she began the meticulous process of connecting the wires, replacing the faulty switches, and integrating the other ones.

“Judging from your reaction, I don’t think she came this way yet, but still, have you seen a woman around here?” Vera asked as she worked on the wires, some lights coming on and the other ones going off. This was like a puzzle.

“No. Why? Is she a friend of yours?”

Vera’s hands halted working when Leon answered instead, observing his gloomy contemplation over her shoulder. “An FBI agent. We were hoping she could tell us what’s going on here.”

Vera shook her head ever so slightly when Ben met her gaze again, silently questioning.

“Mighty thin ice you’re treading on there,” he said, speaking to Leon but the words obviously meant for her. “You get one answer, three more questions pop up in its place.”

“Do you know something?”

He just threw Leon a tape recorder, and handed him his journal, obviously expecting to get them back right after a brief inspection. “It’s all I have, officer.”

Fear squeezed Vera’s heart, and she finished tinkering with the final electrical piece, aggressively mouthing, ‘What are you doing?’ at Ben while Leon couldn’t see, and the fucker just smugly shrugged. He was really doing this. Just sharing everything because it had all gone to hell anyway, but she didn’t want Leon or Claire getting involved in this any more than they did! They didn’t deserve to be burdened with the knowledge! Furthermore, Ben had no right distributing the intel she’d gathered all by herself, she hadn’t given him all her life’s worth of research and investigation to him so he could just toss it to anyone who asked!

One by one, the power panel came back to life, emitting a soft hum as electricity surged through its revived circuits. Lights flickered on, casting a cold white glow throughout the jail, while the low hum of machinery resumed its familiar chorus, and she heard Ben’s cell unlock.

But it wasn’t just his cell, as the other echoing buzzings told them, a shrill alarm going off, temporarily making all of them deaf — basically yelling: “They’re here, get’em!”

Leon’s face went pale, he pocketed the tape recorder and the journal hurriedly, readying Matilda. “Shit.”

The frozen panic of the moment shattered as the wall behind Ben exploded, fragments of debris showering the area. Crumbling masonry and swirling dust gave way to the ominous figure that emerged — a grotesque abomination they thought they left behind torn in half back at the lower levels of the orphanage, now draped in a tattered black trench coat. It was him. It was Mr. X.

Its immense, inhuman hand closed around Ben's face, effortlessly lifting him off the ground, rendering him weightless in its grasp. Vera felt like she was going to suffocate, adrenaline surging through his veins as Leon swiftly drew his firearm, his eyes scanning for a clear shot, but the chaotic scene unfolding before him denied him the opportunity. as Ben's agonized screams filled the air, echoing through the desolate corridor as he was flung around like a lifeless puppet, a pitiable plaything in the monstrous grip.

And then, the crushing force of the giant’s hand tightened, exerting an unimaginable pressure. Blood spurted, mingling with the grotesque sight of a single eye protruding between the gaps in its fingers, a macabre fusion of flesh and bone. Leon and Vera recoiled in horror, instinctively shielding themselves from the gruesome spectacle.

The lifeless body of Ben was unceremoniously discarded to the ground, a life extinguished in the blink of an eye. Vera couldn’t even react properly, mind blanked out once more.

And now fully aware of their presence, the revenant terror fixed its gaze upon Leon and Vera, its empty eyes void of any semblance of humanity. The intent to exterminate emanated from its menacing stance, casting a shadow of impending doom upon the trapped duo, behind them, the relentless horde of creatures blocked the only viable path of escape, closing in like a suffocating nightmare.

In a split second, Leon's training kicked in, overcoming horror faster than Vera did as he swiftly retrieved a flashbang from his belt. With a flick of his wrist, the blinding projectile sailed through the air, detonating in a burst of searing light and deafening sound. The brilliant flash momentarily disoriented the towering Mr. X, throwing off its balance and granting them a precious window of opportunity.

"Run!" Leon's urgent command pierced through the chaos as he seized Vera's hand, their fingers interlocking tightly. Blinded by the intense light, Vera stumbled forward, her senses overwhelmed as she relied on Leon's guidance, their bodies moving in synchronized desperation.

They navigated through the nightmarish maze of undead monstrosities, Leon deftly incapacitating a few with well-placed shots, momentarily stunning them with another flashbang and clearing a path. But there was no time for a meticulous elimination of each gruesome walking corpse. Their priority was survival, an all-consuming drive that pushed them forward.

The stench of decay assaulted Vera's nostrils, the putrid odor of rot permeating the air, making her eyes water and stomach churn. Hands reached out from the horde, their decaying fingers brushing against her skin, sending a shiver of revulsion down her spine. But she pressed on, anchored by Leon's unwavering presence to guide her through the suffocating mass of undead.

Heavy footsteps started thundering alarmingly fast behind them, and Vera felt like she could have a heart attack out of fear right then and there from the sheer levels of anxiety-inducing pace of the rapid booming coming right for her life.

Finally, they managed to burst through the threshold of the jail, bodies propelled into the very short-lived safety of the garage, adrenaline coursing through their veins as Mr. X was closing in.

“Shotgun,” Vera coughed with a crunchy, repulsive, garbage disposal-like sound, lungs burning with the exertion of the running and all the quick breathing, herself switching to the Lightning Hawk. “Bring out your shotgun, we need to make this fucker fall so we have time to get away!”

They began to back away from the door, creating a significant distance between themselves and the approaching menace, hearts pounding in their chests as they prepared themselves, hoping to bring down the relentless Mr. X.

With a thunderous crash, Mr. X tore the door off its hinges, his towering form crouching to fit through the doorway. Seizing the opportunity, Vera and Leon unleashed a barrage of gunfire, their weapons spitting out rounds in rapid succession — but he didn’t seem affected at all, that sculpted mask of a face remaining the same as he quickly marched forward —

But just as despair threatened to overwhelm her, a pivotal moment unfolded, Mr. X stumbled, falling to one knee, and in a moment that seemed both timely and miraculous, the revving of an engine cut through the chaos. A SWAT van came out of nowhere, hurtling toward Mr. X with unstoppable force, and Vera managed to pull Leon away to a safer distance just in time.

The impact was cataclysmic, the van slamming into the colossal abomination, unleashing a devastating blow. The wall crumbled beneath the tremendous impact, a cascade of brick and concrete tumbling to the ground. Through the haze of dust and debris emerged the enigmatic FBI agent, her sunglasses concealed her eyes, but her gaze was sharp and penetrating just as her body language and presence, it bore into Vera.

The FBI agent's frustration crackled in her voice as she snapped at them, the distinct sound of her heels clicking on the ground with an air of annoyance. "I told you to get out of here," she admonished. "This is getting old... saving your asses — that's twice."

Vera’s reflex was to make light of the situation — as if she didn’t just witness an acquaintance of hers she’d been working with quite a while now getting his brains squeezed like a wet sponge, as if it didn’t affect her at all, not in the slightest, but the nervous hollowness in her very being was there. “One for me, and now one for him, so can we call it even, Superagent?”

The woman vehemently responded, fed up with Vera, her voice raised. "This isn't a game!"

The moaning of crumpling metal rose from the van, an exaggerated mirror of a tin soda can being crushed as giant fingers emerged from the debris, clawing their way to freedom.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Leon seethed.

“Nothing dies down here,” the FBI agent complained, almost in a childish manner, like it was some video game she was playing that was impossible to beat, making her frustrated. Without hesitation, she retrieved a remote from her pocket and pressed a button. The ensuing explosion engulfed the remains of the SWAT van, reducing it to a chaotic mess of twisted metal and billowing smoke, the deafening blast echoing through the garage, momentarily silencing all other sounds, the wreckage smoldering afterwards.

Such an action hero move.

Leon was as amazed as Vera was, genuine admiration in both their faces, starstruck by how the agent made it look so effortless. “Maybe a warning next time?”

The woman’s visible expression remained stoic, unaffected by their amazement. With a turn of her head, she scanned the surroundings, her attention focused on the aftermath of the encounter. "There isn't a next time," she replied with a touch of finality. "I have more pressing matters to attend to than getting you two out of trouble."

“Like Ben Bertolucci? You came here to meet with him, didn’t you?” He motioned towards the remains of the demolished wall and the wreckage, taking Vera by surprise with the on-point observation that made total sense. “He’s gone. This guy took him out.”

The vivid scene replayed in Vera’s mind the second he mentioned it, and she had to shut her eyes and regain her composure to not sway where she stood.

The agent remained silent, seemingly expressionless, but buried in an exasperated disappointment.

So he was right. He’d figured it out.

“We just might have what you need from him,” Leon took out the tape recorder, clearly intent on obtaining the information he desired from the very beginning. “But only if you’ll tell us the truth.”

#leon kennedy x oc #leon s kennedy x oc #leon s. kennedy x oc #resident evil oc #oc: vera kaplan #story: gravedigger #era: no time to die #if you know about mechanics please overlook the car part i tried 💀

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ramblingaboutglee · 1 year

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Getting pissed off by Glee IKAG years on

Am I late to the party? I feel like I am. Oh well I’m here, I’m gonna vent, sit down and pour yourself a drink and let’s get to it. I guess I’m doing this.

Basically, this is me trying to take this episode, look at the justifications, and comprehensively complain provide a thorough, reasoned critique so that I never have to think about it again.

Trigger warnings for discussion of homophobia, outing, and brief mentions of attempted suicide

Season 3 is my favourite season of Glee, just to set the context. I’d say that’s a controversial opinion, but from what I can gather Glee fandom doesn’t actually agree on anything, so hey. Every character gets something to do beyond sit in the background, there’s a lot of good arcs, good ship content, fantastic songs, better jokes, stronger pathos, better ongoing storylines...

And then Santana gets outed. The one saving grace is that it just lasts for an episode, so you can grit your teeth and not need to deal with a long-term mess. But yeah, here we are.

The Beginning

So let’s set the stage. Santana is, admittedly, harsh to Finn for an episode, and he retaliates by outing her. I’ve seen some commentary trying to downplay this and... eh, no. “Everyone already knew,” clearly isn’t the case when there were actual, direct consequences to Finn yelling that in the hallway. So, that happens.

I... don’t hate the idea of that storyline, but there’s context, and that context is that it’s 2022. I watched Glee this year, not when it was first on. I’m existing in a time where if I want to watch a show with queer characters, I have options. So tackling a more serious, dramatic topic is not outside of Glee’s wheelhouse, and nowadays that being dealt with as a plot, and not put out of reach, feels reasonable.

But at the time? I cannot comment on that, just by my perspective, but having one of the biggest, and only, lesbian characters on a mainstream show outed feels like it carries significantly more weight that I simply cannot grasp. It goes from being ‘one story of many’ to ‘the story.’

So, we’re on dicey ground to begin with, though ground that will inevitably lack the same impact to me.

The Problem of Finn Hudson

So, Finn outs Santana. A lot of what I’ve seen indicates this made the character irredeemable in a lot of people’s eyes. I want to try and slowly untangle this.

So, in a vacuum... okay, he messes up here, but so does every character in Glee. This is the same season where Quinn tried to steal a baby. If it was just this, maybe in a better-handled episode, would people react the same way to Finn, or would he be forgiven in the same way Santana seems mostly to be forgiven for threatening to out Karofsky in season 2? Brushed off as ‘They matured’ or ‘Glee continuity is a mess and I do not acknowledge the bits that interfere with my enjoyment of the characters.’

Maybe, maybe not, that’s going to be personal. For me, like I said I inevitably lack the level of reaction to the plot that original viewers would have had. So, sure, for the purposes of this essay, let’s say I could forgive Finn if it was just this.

It’s not just this. And that’s where one problem really begins to rear its head.

In season 1, Finn hurls a slur at Kurt. And sure, Kurt wasn’t exactly coming off great before this, but it sets the tone. When Finn’s angry, he’ll cross lines there’s no need to cross - he could have yelled any number of insults, called Kurt a creep, but no, he went for a homophobic slur. But okay, jock teenager in a small town, it’s a mistake that can be made without active malevolence. Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt. A week later and he could have learned.

First of all, context. In season 1, Burt chews out Finn for this. In season 2, Burt walks it back and brings up Kurt’s dubious behaviour, as though that somehow implies ‘Yeah, he got mad, used a slur, it happens.’ And in season 5, rather than not bring it up at all, it’s mentioned again as ‘oh, no, Finn was completely in the right to act like that.’ We’ll get back to this in a second.

In season 3, Finn outs Santana - he gets angry, and uses her sexuality as a weapon against her. He says the one thing he knows could hurt her, and it does.

Which sets this in stone as not a one-off ‘mistake,’ but a pattern of behaviour from Finn.

Finn faces no consequences, not in-universe, or in the narrative. When Finn messes up, the narrative will bring up said mistakes and walk them back, treat them as less of a big deal - some of this, I imagine, is dealing with fan reaction as Glee was clearly aware of its fanbase. Kurt comes off unsympathetic in S1? Okay, call that out. That’s good, so what happens when Finn messes up?

In season 4, Santana calls up Finn to help deal with concerns regarding Rachel’s boyfriend. (Also Finn assaults a sex worker, smooth. Yes there’s context, I don’t care I’m being petty right now). This would be a good time to have Santana maybe be wary, a quiet “Look, I still have issues,” a follow-up in the same vein as Burt walking back his comments on Finn’s slur-usage. But nope, nothing, Santana and Finn are friends apparently. No complication, no drama, no acknowledgement of fan outcry.

Finn messes up, does something awful, and the narrative refuses to call him out on it, and yet it will acknowledge other fan complaints if it means Finn gets to look better.

So, yeah. I was pissed off even with all my context thrown in. I cannot imagine what this must have been like at the time.

There’s a clear double standard here, and it’s a problem. It’s hard to really engage with the plot without noticing a major disconnect between not just how the characters react vs how they ought to, but between how each character involved is treated by the narrative. Santana deserved and deserves so much better than she gets here.

The end result, even if we ignore the character favouritism, is a lack of closure - and while that may not be inherently a bad thing, in this case I feel it very much is. It feels unintended, and it feels like anyone frustrated or angered by this decision goes ignored because with no consequences and no resolution, there’s nowhere for that anger to go.

And for the final cherry on top of context, I Kissed A Girl is episode 7 of season 3, in which a character gets outed. Seven episodes later, episode 14 of season 3, is On My Way, in which Karofsky deals with the consequences of being outed with significantly more gravity. Yeah. Not something you can just brush off, Glee.

It’s Not About You

I Kissed A Girl, the episode tackling the fall-out of Santana being forced out of the closet, is not about Santana Lopez.

That’s baked into the episode from the get-go, and it means it’s dead on arrival as a compelling story. I wish I knew what the heck they were thinking. But yeah, that’s where we are, so let’s look at it.

The titular storyline is one of several in the episode. We have the student council storyline continuing, more of Puck and Shelby, and then we have the Glee club facing up to what happens. And it’s Finn insisting everyone sing a song to cheer Santana up, despite her evident discomfort, so 10/10 there for ignoring her boundaries twice over.

But yeah, it’s about Finn. Everyone comforts Santana, and we get none of her reaction, none of her thoughts, just her eventually accepting the comfort - naturally, Finn’s comfort - and happy ending? Somehow?

Santana’s subject to homophobic harassment, and we get the title song sung by the Glee club, and it’s one where Rachel headlines because it’s about the club’s reaction to having a lesbian member. Yeah, the lead up isn’t even Santana getting a biting remark, it’s the Glee club banding about her. It’s not about Santana’s reaction to living with this, it’s about how good everyone else is to help her.

There’s not really any denying that Glee is heavily inspired by the kind of inspiration porn rep of, for example, disabled characters in other media - that kind of thing runs throughout all of Artie’s story and the initial depiction of Becky, and there was a Rachel episode in season one, etc. It’s one of the throughlines, and it’s hard to not see the similarities here - when a character departs from the ‘typical,’ the plot isn’t about their life, it’s about how everyone around them reacts and deals with having them as a friend. Glee has rep, and in a lot of ways it is groundbreaking rep especially for the time and honestly, to a degree, even nowadays. But that comes packaged with the fact it’s representation from an outside perspective.

This isn’t about the outed lesbian, it’s inspiration porn for the people around her, convincing them all to come together. The parallels stick out to me. Rather than give her a story, she’s used for the benefit of others, from Finn, to the rest of the club.

And it’s a genre that has been rightfully criticised time and again as ultimately just using the people it professes to lift up.

Okay sure, let’s talk about song choice

Glee recontextualises songs all the time. One of the highlights of season 1 is Kurt’s rendition of Rose’s Turn, a song from a musical whose title is a slur and isn’t that just on-brand for Glee at this point? In the musical, it’s sung by an overbearing mother whose daughter’s basically had enough of her. In Glee, it’s sung by a gay kid scared he’s not enough for his dad. Totally different context, and meaning... and it works.

So taking Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed A Girl,’ a song about kissing girls for the attention of boys, surely this is something Glee could put in a new context? The lead-in to the song is the Glee girls defending Santana, and responding with “We don’t care if you think we’re gay, that’s not a bad thing,” and the show at least is conscious enough to keep the ‘Hope my boyfriend doesn’t mind’ lines out of Santana’s mouth (and in Rachel’s which is. unintentionally hilarious but hey). So that’s that, right?

God, I wish. For starters, it just feeds more into the issue of ‘the episode is not about Santana.’ The focus is so completely on the rest of the club and how they deal with being friends with an out lesbian and, y’know, not the lesbian herself. And even without that not-so-minor detail... Yeah, this song has way too much baggage in the queer community to ever use in this context, god no.

I don’t know what was happening behind the scenes. I want to say it was the network pushing them to include a massive pop song with a sapphic title, there’s definitely a lot of points where the network clearly pushed for a chart-topper, but I can’t say for sure.

This is not a song Santana should ever have sung.

And it’s not even my least favourite in the episode. For that, let’s check in again with one Mr Hudson.

I can mount a half-hearted, not-remotely-sufficient defence of the thought process behind I Kissed A Girl. I cannot even begin to fathom how ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ not only made it into the episode, but got treated somehow as an emotional moment, or even somehow Finn’s apology. Full props to all the actors involved for somehow staying in character.

(Tangent: props to Blaine and Kurt. Perfect both fills the role of being a comfort-song, and “Welcome to my silly life,” is a great lyric for the situation).

But no, it’s this song that somehow has Santana feel touched, somehow? The song that offers no comfort, has no relevance, and if you try to make it relevant it just comes off as Santana just being belittled for several minutes straight. ‘Having fun’ is not the turn of phrase to use.

Which exposes the flaw of the episode all over again - Finn shouldn’t be the one to reach her. People talk about Brittany needing more of a role, and yes that as well, but Blaine and Kurt feel like a good choice as well. Kurt left the school because of the homophobia, he’s maybe not going to know exactly Santana’s experiences, but he’d be in her corner. There’s a lot of people it could be. But no, it’s Finn, the one that outed her, because it’s his story - it’s his ‘redemption’ arc, with Santana as a mere step on the way.

I guess, for completeness’ sake, I should talk about Constant Craving. It’s a fantastic cover, and I know some people object to it being juxtaposed with Shelby, but my take is more than it’s Santana’s midway point. I think it’s easy to view her as still not completely sure or comfortable yet - she’s had a heck of an awful episode, being forced out the closet isn’t going to make anyone comfy, and ‘craving’ isn’t necessarily the word one goes for when one is totally confident and content with one’s own desires. From that perspective, I have no issues with it. I just wish Santana got a follow-up. Plus, y’know, an episode of her own.

The saving grace isn’t so good

As I said at the start, the saving grace is that this is only there for one episode. You can forget it ever happened easily enough. In the long run, this isn’t even the arc that bothers me the most in the show - because it’s one episode. Bingewatching, as I did, it occupies such a small amount of my overall time with the show.

As an episode, there’s plenty of stuff that isn’t dealing with the mishandled plot, good song covers, fun character beats for everyone else. It’s just that none of it has anything to do with Santana. As an episode, on its own merits, it isn’t my least favourite of the show at all - but that storyline, and how it’s handled, is undeniably one of the nadirs of Glee.

Which for me, is kind of the whole problem. I like this season, and part of the reason I do is that the worst parts, for me, occupy so little time. And at the same time, part of what makes the worst parts as bad as they are, is precisely because they occupy way too little time for the show to do them justice.

You can forget it ever happened, if you want. That’s the honest truth. Glee, as a show, often does use its heightened nature to get away with ‘Don’t necessarily take this literally.’ If you did, I’m pretty sure every character ought to be in prison. There’s a wealth of things that don’t get treated with the seriousness they really ought to be - let’s not forget Sue threatening to pull out Artie’s teeth at prom, that happened. The show will take physical violence seriously sometimes, and not at all others, and that’s just part of Glee. So if thee’s a scene or stretch that genuinely makes you feel uncomfortable, Glee brings with it the easy option to just deny it and file it away with the crack houses and sex tapes and supervillain cats.

If you treat the episode as nothing but a bad taste Tina dream sequence, absolutely nothing about the rest of Glee is affected.

That’s what makes S3 still bearable, to me. And it’s also the biggest condemnation you can give it - this isn’t a one-off joke, this is a major point in Santana’s arc, a topic Glee itself acknowledges later can be life-ruining especially in a town like Lima, and it’s brushed over. Forgotten about. There’s no closure for viewers that identified with Santana, no sign of this being acknowledged as the big deal it was, and ultimately it gets treated with as much significance as that time Blaine made a sentient puppet.

Santana can be cruel, and she was to Finn. The worst thing she said, he’d likely forget about by the end of the day. The thng he did in response could get her killed - something Glee itself acknowledges several days later.

Blithely forgetting and moving past this is not something that should be expected. And yet it’s what the show does.

So that’s my IKAG rant to join what I imagine is a long tradition of similar vents.

#Glee #Santana Lopez #Glee meta #Anti Finn Hudson #I mean I feel any discussion of this episode inevitably will be #IKAG

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ourflagmeansgayrights · 2 years

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god the patronizing hand wringing i've read worrying that if izzy is 'redeemed' in season 2 then all the haters will turn on the show and accuse it of changing its plans to pander to izzy's fandom favoritism. and like, no, probably not! if the writers decide to go in a direction where izzy starts to do better and heals, i currently trust the writer's room to figure out a way to do it that serves the narrative in a satisfying way. idk what could be the catalyst for that kind of growth and change, but i couldn't have predicted most of season 1 so i'll let the big brains on the show figure out if that's something that could work.

i'm more worried about The Discourse if he doesn't get that. certain izzy stans have so wildly reinterpreted the show to make him into who they want him to be, someone's bound to feel betrayed if he continues to be a villain. like i look at the way people complained about infinity train season 3's villain arc for simon, who was imo more sympathetic than izzy, but was given every opportunity to be better and instead doubled down every time until it killed him. so much blame was heaped on grace, who started out in the same place as him, but did put in the work to start doing better, for not trying harder to help him. (how shocking that the black girl who was having a rough enough go at having her own worldviews shattered and confronting and recognizing harm that she'd caused that couldn't be undone was criticized by fans for not also correctly managing the feelings of an angry white boy who decided that any change in opinion was a betrayal to him.)

all that is to say, are izzy stans going to be okay if their guy isn't given the redemption, or in some cases, the hero's vindication they think he deserves? or are they going to blame other characters for not trying hard enough to help him find a way to do better?

i mean, there probably WILL be some people complaining if izzy gets redeemed. i know i take a very firm izzy-critical stance and have gotten into a few arguments w izzy fans about it, but in a fandom this big there are people who are unhinged in all sorts of ways. i dont doubt that SOMEONE out there will get real pissed at the writers if izzy gets a redemption

i am torn tho whether i want an izzy redemption or not. for story purposes ive talked before abt why i think a bad ending for izzy would be interesting to see from a STORY perspective (and also a personal taste perspective), but like you said, if any writers' room could do an izzy redemption arc justice, it's this one. if i think there's something to criticize in ofmd i will criticize it (i have an entire tag for it), but im not gonna like. harass the writers just bc they didnt kill off my least favorite character. nobody with any braincells would do that.

the thing is tho. while i have no problem with an izzy redemption arc as long as it's well-written, i AM kind of terrified of izzy apologists to having MORE reason to interpret izzy as a poor innocent victim. not that i think the writers would actually portray him like that, but if we're given any actual in-text reasons to sympathize with izzy (instead of subtext and headcanon) you KNOW there's gonna be a huge chunk of izzy fans who will be INSUFFERABLE about it

but then youre right, if izzy doesn't get redeemed there's gonna be SO MUCH SHIT. the people who interpret ed as izzy's abuser (🤢) are already gonna have a hard time when ed ends up in a happy relationship with stede (honestly, what fucking show do they think they're watching?), i dont want to even think abt the discourse that'll happen if izzy isn't redeemed. i was only ever in the periphery of the infinity train fandom, but from what ive heard, the discourse was truly horrific

(also tho it's so funny that u mention infinity train bc i brought up simon in the tags of BOTH of those posts i linked above and then i got an anon rlly coming to simon's defense. i didnt rlly get that deep into the discussion w them bc i dont remember a lot of the specific details of infinity train and please nobody send me anons telling me more things abt what happens in infinity train i dont want to talk abt infinity train but i do agree w ur opinion lmao. simon infinitytrain is a crusty-ass white boy who do i feel very bad for but his story was very well-written. grace infinitytrain my beloved <3<3<3)

#ofmd #izzy critical #ofmd fandom crit #mine #ask #anon #txt #infinity train #izzy hands #if this post is in the izcourse tag no it isnt u just dont know how to use tumblr #og #s2 predictions

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agwic · 2 years

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ok. it's time. time for me to post my opinions on the svtfoe finale. and svtfoe as a whole but that's kind of a given considering that it's the finale.

so, where to start? I think I'm gonna start by explaining what svtfoe is. it's an animated disney show which parodies both magical girl and disney princess tropes, as well as being a reverse isekai which is always nice. great premise, though its execution in season 1 is meh at best, but honestly that's just personal taste and season 1 does a great job introducing us to the three core characters so I see no reason to complain. really the only reason to point out that season 1 was kinda meh is to counter people implying that the show declined as it went on, when in fact it was always of ultimately very mixed quality, with most of the worst episodes being in the first half of the show, such as banagic incident, lobster claws, and pizza thing.

anyways, for most of season 1, svtfoe was a thoroughly unremarkable kids show, so who cares. however, throughout seasons 1 and 2, a nice little plot about a genuinely threatening gooey man is the real highlight of the show, rather than the supposed premise of the show, which was a parody isekai. this is irrelevant to my analysis of the finale, but I felt it necessary to point out that centaurworld appears to have stolen svtfoe season 1 and 2's premise. anyways, halfway through season 2, the part of the show I like starts, where the show starts parodizing the fantasy genre in its plot, not just in the mediocre one-off episodes which are more of a magical girl parody than a general parody of the fantasy genre.

this shift completes with the show shifting from reverse isekai to regular isekai, with the show's secondary protagonist, "normal" earth "boy", marco diaz, going to the magical kingdom the show's main protagonist, star comes from. many people mark this as when the show starts getting worse, but like, the show was really not good at doing the reverse isekai stuff, and all of its best episodes function as just a normal isekai, so I feel like this was inevitable. however, another reason people say this is when the show gets worse is that it happens a few episodes after genuinely threatening goo man is defeated, and everyone agrees genuinely threatening goo man is the best villain. I agree that he's the most threatening and well-written, but ultimately all he represents is pure evil, which isn't all that exciting from a thematic perspective, so I actually disagree on this point. the next villain after him is the rightful heir of the monarchy which star is the false heir to, as it is revealed in season 3 that a random peasant was actually placed on the throne a few hundred years ago because some deific entities didn't like the rightful heir being half-monster. I think that this is a very interesting villain thematically, and they manage it well, by portraying her as being more a victim of the MHC(aforementioned deific entities) than as a villain in her own right, and she is defeated by making her into a baby again instead of killing her because she was really only a villain because of her fucked up upbringing. solidly good themes going on here. questioning the validity of the monarchy, showing how many problems bigotry causes, showing the MHC to be just as incompetent as the rest of us, it's good.

the last villain is an actual fascist propped up by the MHC. like, I am not exaggerating, her stated goal in the story is genocide. also she was introduced as a gag character in season 1 where she already showed off her insane authoritarian tendencies so overall I think she was set up very well. I will also note that in this final season, with a a bunch of fascists as the main antagonists, the show had a very rushed production schedule. you may be getting SU flashbacks. anyways, this time they solve the fascism by killing the MHC who are responsible for it, and abolishing the monarchy which allowed it to fester, which sounds to me like exactly what fans would want, considering how they reacted to the SU finale. and, to be fair, I liked both this and the SU finale, because SU is a show about redemption so of course the fascists would get redeemed and also the fascists were just a metaphor for other less reprehensible stuff but this is not a post about the SU finale because the SU finale was actually mediocre and I don't care if people hate it. anyways, the response to the svtfoe finale was actually worse than the SU finale. but to explain why, I need to explain several things which were going on in the background of the show, for context.

so, the elephant in the room is the thing svtfoe was most infamous for prior to the finale. the love polyhedron. some people call it marco's harem, but it technically had two focal points in both star and marco, and polyhedron is a funny word, so I call it the love polyhedron. ever since season 1, it was blatantly obvious that the female lead, star, and the "male" lead, marco, would get together by the end of the show, and acting like this was every possible to not happen is wishful thinking, mainly because disney wouldn't allow it. also, unlike most "take the male lead and female lead and push them together" ships, starco appears to have had some actual chemistry(I can't tell, my criterion for shipping things is if it would spite people I dislike), to the point where it was actually one of the more popular ships for the show. however, because this trope is stupid, they obviously can't just have them mutually fall in love early on and then start dating in season 1 and not have any issues for the rest of the show. no, we need rivals! first rival: tom, star's ex, who is flirting with marco 90% of the time he's on screen and is pretty much the third main character to the show and a romantic rival and potential love interest to both of them. I think this is funny. second rival: jackie, marco's childhood crush who he starts dating, but it doesn't work out and also she is dating a girl in the last season so there are implications there. honestly, I think it was well done, but I do think jackie probably deserved more screen time since she's the most emotionally intelligent character in the show. other rivals: heckapoo, who really isn't treated as a rival and actually belongs in like two other sections of this post so I'll discuss her later. janna, who is also not treated like a rival but she does pretend to have a crush on marco(it actually is canon that her crush on marco is fake) and also flirts with star sometimes so I'm counting her here, and she's not actually that important other than that everyone loves her and is correct to do so. kelly, who marco briefly dates, and also she has an ex of her own and honestly there's not much to say about her other than what the fuck were they thinking when they wrote goblin dogs. I think that's everyone. anyways, the point is, this was stupid.

next elephant in the room is the fact that marco is written with a lot of subtext implying he's trans(which was intentional, one of the storyboards features him wearing a trans flag dress which uh couldn't actually be more intentional). like, he regularly dresses up as a girl, and likes doing so, which means nothing. however, when dressed as a girl, he uses she/her pronouns most of the time, and also refers to himself as a girl, and also, once again, likes doing this. personally I headcanon him has genderfluid, because of the neverzone, a dimension where he is in his 30s and looks like an over-the-top action movie protagonist and is dating hekapoo. like, you could argue that was overcompensating, but he seems genuinely distraught when he loses his abs and genuinely enjoys it whenever he goes to the neverzone so I think he also likes the idea of being a manly man so genderfluid it is. and like, I'm pretty sure they could not have included more subtext implying that he's trans without disney striking it down. like disney would not allow the male lead of one of their shows have his gender transed. so, I count this as a win.

next up, back to the love polyhedron, focusing on the non-stupid parts of it: star, marco, and tom. well also jackie wasn't stupid, but not relevant to this subject. first, let's talk about marco and tom. they're constantly flirting, and their relationship is consistently framed as romantic. I could provide evidence for this, but I don't need to, because if you've watched the show, you know this to be the case. next, let's talk about star and tom. tom is introduced as star's ex, and kind of a jerk. however, for stupid reasons, they start dating again in early season 3. he goes through a character arc, and stops being a jerk, and ultimately his relationship with star is perfectly fine, with him just being a bit clingy at times. when they break up, it's on perfectly amiable terms, and the reason is basically because tom knows that starco is inevitable and star obviously can't have two boyfriends. now I shall present the following screenshot from the show, which takes place while star and tom are dating:

next up, we need to talk about starco. like, there is more to their relationship than "she's a girl, disney is somehow under the impression that he's a boy, so they kinda have to get together". to start off with, the two have really good chemistry in season 1, and do start to develop feelings for each other, and honestly it works perfectly fine. then tom shows up, and tries to use some ancient magic thing to make him and star fated to fall in love, but marco ends up making the magic target him and star instead. this, if never addressed again, would make this ship the stupidest thing imaginable. however, it is addressed again. after three seasons of love polyhedron shenanigans, they finally realize that this whole stupid disaster of a situation is because they're both in love, and in fact that all their previous relationships may have in fact been ruined by that stupid ancient magic making them fated to fall in love. so, naturally, the find a way to undo the magic, and it works. tada! no longer fated to fall in love in-universe. this is actually very good thematically, as it makes clear that being "fated to fall in love", if it were real, would be a bad thing and a very stupid reason to start dating. of course, they still both had mutual feelings for each other, and at this point have already dated and broken up with all other potential partners(well tom's still there but he's chill and breaks up so that star can have her disney-enforced maximum of one boyfriend), so in the finale, star and marco start dating, and it's chill, and everyone liked it.

just kidding, this is probably the most objectional part of the finale! like, people have worse complaints, but this is the worst complaint people have about the finale which actually makes sense, which is why I devoted so much time to it, and also am addressing it first. like yeah, in a perfect world, tom, marco, and star would all be dating, and marco would be even more canonically trans than he already is, but we don't live in a perfect world so unfortunately we're just left with a giant pile of subtext, which we're gonna have to settle with. though honestly, I think that if svtfoe had aired a few years later, stomco would be treated as canon, similar to how sashannarcy is in the amphibia fandom. but alas, the svtfoe finale killed the fandom a couple years too early for polyamorous ships to become mainstream. so, anyways, the point is, sure it was annoying to have canon starco in the finale, but starco was fine, and tom is still there so he can just pop in as soon as canon ends and solve the issue. so, overall, biggest issue with the finale, but not that big of an issue. now let's get into with the issues with the finale which caused the fandom to die, and are all incredibly stupid.

so, I know that implied I wouldn't get into another tangent, but I would like to establish something important before I get into the next part: star's spells don't count as people. because if they did, star would have major moral issues long before the finale. like, at absolute best, star would be doing the moral equivalent of harry potter's house elves, if her spells are people, and I think most people here can agree that is not a morally enviable position. there are two ways to think of the spell episodes then, that are consistent with this premise. the first is that they are non-canon, which is fine, other episodes are also probably non-canon. the second explanation is that the spells are just extensions of star, which also works, considering that she created them, and they all kind of act like her. both of these make significantly more sense than the spells being people who deserve to be treated fairly by star, since she does not ever treat them fairly, and is never implied to have to treat them fairly.

now it's time to get back to the finale, and explain what happened in it, specifically. star destroyed "the magic". this very obviously is not all magic in the multiverse, as pony head is still floating, tom is still a demon, dragoncycles still exist, etc. this refers specifically to the magic of glossaryck, and his creations, the MHC, and the royal magic wand. also, a few horses that were lying around in the realm of magic. anyways, in this show, magic is very clearly a metaphor for authoritarianism. the royal magic wand is the sign of the monarchy, and the MHC prop up a fascist for basically no reason. glossaryck is harder to fit into this metaphor, but he does cooperate with toffee so I don't think it's reasonable to call him morally righteous. so, when star destroys the magic, she kills like half a dozen people, most of whom were actively supporting a genocide, and a few horses. and yet, most fans of svtfoe call this a magic genocide, and cite it as the main reason the finale is awful. they argue that all magical creatures are dead, which is provably false, pony head is alive and well. they argue that star killed the spells, but star was already using the spells as living weapons so if you care about the rights of spells, there were issues before this. the horses dying is sad, but the horses were already dying because the evil horse was killing them, and also I think that we can all agree that killing a few horses to stop a literal genocide is acceptable. and sure, people argue that star could have defeated mina(the fascist propped up the MHC) and her solarian warriors without destroying the magic, but the show does all but say "no, the only way to stop her is to destroy the magic". like, literally the entire supporting cast of the show get an uncurable death curse in an attempt to defeat just one solarian warrior, and mina has hundreds of them. and even if you do think that it would be worth waging a hopeless war to stop them, it wouldn't even stop the genocide, becuase the show went and said "hey, the solarian warriors have all the monsters right here. they are currently pushing them off a cliff. if you do not stop them in the next 10 minutes they are going to commit genocide" which was kind of blunt but apparently necessary since some people still don't get that destroying the magic was clearly set up as the only solution to this.

furthermore, destroying the magic was a thematically appropriate way to resolve an antagonist who represented fascism. like, the alternative would probably have been dealing with all the solarians somehow, and sticking marco and star as king and queen since moon obviously fucked up, or alternatively eclipsa and globgor since they're the rightful rulers and also represent unity between monsters and mewmans, the former of which is obviously stupid, and the latter of which is literally what caused this mess and also it would imply the monarchy is legitimate, which is literally the same argument the solarian warriors were making, and one which has been thoroughly disproven by the show. like, I feel like we can all agree that the solution to fascism is not removing the "bad guys" in charge of the authoritarian system and replacing them with "good guys"(also something refuted by svtfoe with moon, the supposed "good guy" also helping prop up the fascist), it's to dismantle the authoritarian system entirely. and magic is a metaphor for that system in svtfoe. so yeah, svtfoe did good on that front. and some people do argue that moon didn't face enough consequences for her actions, but firstly, she did in fact get deposed from the throne and lost what little respect her daughter had for her, which is solidly something, and secondly, a kids tv show can't have the main character kill her own mother. honestly killing the rest of the MHC, many of whom were likable characters, was already kinda pushing it. oh, and thirdly, retributive justice is bad actually. the MHC had to die because they were actively causing genocide. the genocide attempt has been thwarted now, so no need to kill anyone else. not to mention that moon wasn't really on board with genocide, she just thought the people calling for genocide wouldn't really do genocide, which sounds stupid until you look into literally any real-world politics. many people argue that the show should have actually shown the consequences of all this instead of just showing the fascists running off and then ending the show, but like, that wouldn't be interesting, even if done correctly, and significantly more likely than doing it correctly would be them propping up a consitutional monarchy with star/marco or eclipsa/globgor as the rulers and that would be really stupid.

now, there's one last thing which the svtfoe finale does that people have problems with. you see, svtfoe takes place in a multiverse. and the only way of travelling between dimensions is through dimensional scissors, which work via hekapoo, a member of MHC, and thus would stop working with the destruction of magic. this is an issue for obvious reasons. sure, they could have just said "haha fuck you none of the characters can ever see each other again" like most isekais do when they end, but that sucks, even when thematically appropriate, and this is not a case where that is thematically appropriate. so, there are several solutions to this. one is to just have the scissors keep working. this would have been stupid, as it contradicts pre-established lore, but ultimately would have been fine. another is to have hekapoo live, since she was solidly the most sympathetic member of the MHC, and neverzone-marco's girlfriend. however, that would both contradict the pre-established lore, and also soften the blow of everything, since even if hekapoo may have been the nicest of the MHC, and wasn't fully on board with plan "prop up a fascist for no reason", she also didn't really try to stop that plan, and also she was fully on board with dying, since she was there when star came up with the plan to destroy the magic. however, they instead did a solution I think is actually good. they made it so when magic was destroyed, all the dimensions got cleaved together, merging into one super-dimension. I know WoG says it was just earth and mewni, but the dragoncycles actively disprove this. WoG also says it was the power of love that did this, and it's implied that it was, and honestly that's a fine solution even if the power of love hasn't existed in this magic system thus far since 1. starco's love for each other was pretty well established and 2. there were presumably other people in love who would have been separated across dimensions. like, it's a perfectly workable solution when the magic system dug the show into a corner regarding this. people often are like "oh no but merging all the dimensions would cause so much chaos and so many people would die" but like, once again, there was not a better solution here. and not that many people would die, pretty much all dimensions we've been shown except earth are very used to having contact to other dimensions, and could handle it. as for earth, well, I'm sure they can adapt to the new circumstances. like, yeah, I wish they could have had a nice little epilogue showing society adapting to the new circumstances, but the production of the last season was very rushed, so I'm fine with them leaving that up to audience interpretation, especially since, once again, they would have done that badly considering that disney has opinions on the monarchy. and the only reason leaving what they didn't have time to put in the show to the audience's interpretation didn't work out is because the audience went ahead and assumed the worst at every possible junction.

now, while I am done defending the finale itself, I feel like it would be remiss for me not to use this as an opportunity to express my theory as to how the cosmology of the svtfoe universe works. so, let's circle back to how the power of love was a stupid explanation for the dimensions getting cleaved together. because you see, "cleave" is a funny word. you can cleave something together, but you can also cleave something apart. this is something pointed out by glossaryck, the most powerful character in svtfoe, a while before the events of the finale, which is, by the way, titled "Cleaved". now, glossaryck is implied to have created magic, and canonically stated to have created hekapoo, who allows for travel between dimensions. this means that prior to glossaryck, there was no travel between dimensions. however, as previously mentioned, most dimensions not only are used to multiversal travel, but rely on it. like, quest buy is an entire dimension which is just a store, that obviously can't work unless there's people coming from outside the store to buy stuff. same basic idea for the bounce lounge, and other party dimensions. now, one explanation is obviously that these dimensions were empty, or otherwise had something else in them, until they were made into what they now are after the advent of dimensional scissors, but my theory feels more elegant than that. before I reveal my theory, I would like to give one more piece of evidence. the realm of magic, which was created by glossaryck, seems to have a portal to every dimension. my theory is that when glossaryck created magic, there was only one dimension, which he cleaved apart, creating the realm of magic in the gaps between the dimensions. and thus, of course all the dimensions would be cleaved back together when magic is destroyed.

oh one last thing, shout out to @xidnaf's anarchist reading of the finale, which is what got me to consider that maybe the reddit hivemind was wrong about the finale being bad, and also where I borrowed a lot of my stuff about how destroying magic is cool and good thematically from, and also this one random youtube video which I found on accident which also makes some bad points but it is where I got a lot of stuff on how the show presents destroying magic as being the only solution from.

ok i think that's everything

#svtfoe #now that my opinions are out in the world i can finally be freeeeeee #i should post this on the svtfoe reddit and see how they take it #i was afraid that this post would not be long enough to convey how much my opinions on svtfoe consume me but it was in fact long enough

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perryhedge · 2 years

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Call of the Night and the anime Zeitgeist

When I started watching Call of the Night, something struck me about its aesthetic. Yes, there’s the bright flashy neon colors and bold direction, but there’s something else in there too, a style that comes through in everything from the music to the way the characters talk. I am coming at this from the perspective of a non-Japanese person obviously, and I’m not even that educated on anime. I also have been learning Japanese so this has a big impact on how I view this show and what stood out to me.

First, the way the characters talk is, for lack of a better word, modern. There’s lots of slang and internet terminology, and in general the characters have this kind of deadpan nonchalance and down-to-earth attitude that I think is kind of characteristic of younger generations. If you watch a lot of Youtube or variety shows, or even something like Terrace House, you’ll hear this kind of speech, but hearing it in an anime immediately struck me as unusual, and on that same note this more “realistic” speech (over-exaggerated, sure, but aiming for some imitation of real everyday speech in a way that most anime don’t) also resonated with me.

Anime has always struck me as kind of a conservative medium, in the sense that it’s rarely (if ever) ahead of the times, and most of the time it doesn’t even really reflect pop culture as it is. At least, I can say this to the extent that I am someone who started watching anime (the early 2010s) based halfway across the world from where most of it’s produced. That said, in today’s environment you can follow animators and communicate with Japanese people on social media, and as global culture converges anime’s strange stagnation (as I perceive it) only seems to get more pronounced.

Part of this is its long production. It takes months to make an anime, and the vast majority are adaptation which puts an even greater limit on how “current” seasonal anime can really be. Notably Matt Stone and Trey Parker from South Park for example credit the show’s ability to stay relevant (well, when it was) to its extremely quick production times, sometimes commenting on current events just weeks after they happened. By contrast, something like the Simpsons very quickly felt like it was completely out of step with pop culture. So, animation as a whole has a limited capability to do that kind of explicit commentary, but even taking that into account something is off to me.

When I think of the way people talk in anime, what themes most shows speak to, and what kinds of aesthetics you see explored, it all just feels years and years behind. I can think of a lot of anime that I enjoy because it speaks to something timeless or even because it conveys the spirit of a certain bygone time period in appealing way, but I can’t think of any anime that really feel like they’re about the world we live in right now (I do think there are tons of manga that do, and maybe I can talk more about it later but even something like Ruri Dragon I think you can attribute a good part of its success to the fact that it appeals to contemporary sensibilities in a way that feels if not novel, then at least uncommon).

Maybe a part of it is the fact that a lot of anime is metacommentary on extremely fossilized, codified, satirized, and re-codified genres (a lot of people have complained about this, I’m not making a value judgment but it is definitely true to an extent). But when I think of isekai, or your typical modern romcom, or cute girls doing cute things, or idol shows, I don’t think of those as particularly contemporary. These are just continuations of genres that have been in anime for a long time, and it feels like a lot of them are mostly concerned with grappling with those genre conventions rather than saying anything about where culture is at right now. I hope I don’t have to elaborate more and you get what I’m going for here. I’m not trying to rehash the same “anime is bad now because it’s meta” angle here, but rather just point out that a lot of them feel completely displaced from time.

Now granted, [massive generalization based on my consumption of otaku media for the last 10 years and nothing else] maybe Japanese culture is just pretty nostalgic in general. In terms of what’s popular they’re still watching the new Detective Conan and Tora San and One Piece movies every year (and they still top the charts). The most popular game series over there appears to be Dragon Quest which is intentionally and proudly a very conservative game. I mean we’re talking about the country that still uses fax machines. Again, not trying to caricaturize or exoticize, but I still marvel at the fact that Japanese people care about tradition and formality enough to use keigo and mind their greetings, coming from a country where the last time someone asked me to say grace before a meal I genuinely almost started with “itadakimasu”.

All this is to say that’s why Call of the Night stands out because it’s at least a little bit about contemporary issues; it’s about being young and cool (or a vampire) and listening to hip hop (musical shorthand for youth, rebellion, and such). Yeah, the main characters go to maid cafes and play Dragon Quest on their Playstations. You’ve seen all this stuff a billion times in anime. But the whole show looks like a Lil Uzi Vert music video. The main girl is twerking in the ED and imitating a gun shot. Everyone’s constantly on their phones and on social media. It’s not exactly revolutionary, it’s not reporting from the ground in Tokyo or anything, but I just think it’s pretty funny that the one show that has the pulse on pop culture more than any anime I’ve seen in years is the show about vampires hanging out in the middle of the night. Yes I wrote all this JUST for that pun fuck you

#yofukashi no uta #anime #call of the night

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kanmom51 · 2 years

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Hi kanmom!

I am just really curious about something like genuinely.

First of all i personally really really enjoy jikook's, or minkookie now, bond they make me smile until i get teary eyed but i am one that is still on the verge of believing they are a romantic couple. So please explain this to me from your perspective.

Now in todays vlive where JM was giving us the tmi about JK i felt or comprehended that this would not have been said in that manner if they where a couple especially a long term couple. Why would it be something "funny" or weird for my partner to come sit and do nothing in my room, why would JK need to have the urge to defend this exposure with "JM room is the closest" why would TH be surprised to find JK in JM's room (even though i understand that TH wanted to go to JM room specifically) it should be a normal occurrence. Personally i dont think these kind of situations show us that jikook are a romantic couple it just proves that they are EXTREMELY CLOSE and that they do have a natural gravitation towards each other. Its just feels like too much of "tmi" to be tmi of a couple. If you get what i mean

Just while i'm here i'd like to add this curiosity too. Just to get your direct opinion. If you dont want to answer it please feel free to remove it.

About the neck bite/hickey in my opinion this too much effort to be "let down" for a "platonic pair"😜 but what make me doubt(especially after seeing a bunch of other picks of both of them with unexplained marks on theirs necks that look exactly like the one JK has) again is the telling of the story. This is something supposedly intimate or can lead to intimate acts why share it as a funny story or why even share with an apology. Why did jin and TH seem weirded out or kind of off when they heard the story from JM again this is to much "tmi" to be of a couple

Please give your point of view directly to my questions if you dont mind.

I was going to wait for the fully property translated Vlives, I really was. But my impatience got the better of me (I bet they will come out minutes after I post this🤐).

I promise that if there is anything there that makes a difference or effects what I wrote then I will reblog this with clarifications).

So here are my thoughts on the matter:

I will start by reminding that this is not the first time we hear about JK spending his time in JM's room. This has been going on for years, JM has been telling this to us for years, pretty much the rest of the members have been too. So, this TMI is not really new news TMI. This is pretty old news TMI.

So telling us JK is in the room morning, noon and night is not really something new, and it's definitely not new for any of the members, including Tae. He himself told us in his 2019 Vlive at 1 am that JM & JK were 'hanging out together'. He was also around every single time JM told us or 'complained' that JK was in his room all the time, sleeping in his bed, asking why he kept coming to his room.

So, nothing new here really.

*Credit to the creator of this clip.

So, why tell us this? Why tell us JK comes to JM's room for breakfast, lunch and dinner? Why tell us JK comes to JM's room, which is right next to his, because he's bored and spends hours in JM's room doing nothing, layingon his bed?

I will say this one more time but with feeling: JM & JK are a gay closeted couple!!! And the emphasis is on closeted, hence hiding the gay relationship!!!

They are a living breathing paradox. Because on the one hand they really want us to know they are together. It’s kind of a natural thing. Not wanting to hide your meaningful long term relationship. Not to have to live in the shadows, especially when that person you are with is someone you are with all the god damn time, on and off camera (the on camera is also many many hours of the day, and when it’s off camera, well there are staff members around almost all the time). But then, on the other hand they kind of have to hide it. It’s the industry they are part of, it’s the society they are part of. They just cannot come out and say “we are a gay couple in a meaningful long term relationship”. ‘Coming out’, saying that, well it would have repercussions on their careers (not only theirs, but their bandmates too), on their personal safety and their families too.

So, they work withing that realm of wanting to show but really can’t show the whole story – or what I like calling: The realm of deniability. And they push the boundaries of that realm further and further all the time (I have written many posts about this).

Rooms were booked for both separately. There is no other way around it as long as this relationship is a hidden one. Even if they were sharing a room, which by what JM told us is practically that – spending morning day and night together. Eating together, going out together – we saw that, working out together, just spending time together (JK just laying on JM’s bed). Yeah, I’d say that’s their way to tell us they are spending the days together in so many words, within the realm of deniability, wouldn’t you? Could they be just good mates? Well, that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Telling us they spend all this time together but without telling us they are TOGETHER.

This need for closeness, this need to be within each other’s orbit, even if it’s to lay on the other person’s bed, not doing anything, not interacting, just laying there, physically being next to them just doing nothing, that’s actually a mark of a couple. Needing the proximity but finding that calm even without actual words or interaction.

We’ve seen this over the years with JK. JM sleeping, and JK just finding a place by his side to either just sit there, close to him, or lay by his side. There is a need for proximity. This is beyond a good friend or bro thing.

youtube

Tae himself told us about going to JM’s room, JK there, and him wondering if it was actually JM’s room. Tae knew it was JM’s room. There was a point being made here:

Tae ‘thinking’ it was JK’s room (not really) – if he comes to JM’s room and thinks that, what does it mean with hotel staff that come to the room????

Hence, explaining how someone who would see them together might get the ‘wrong’ idea…

It’s not that they share a room, no, that’s not it. It’s just that JK really really really really really really likes JM’s room (cough it’s JM he likes, not the room, cough) very very very very very very much, and that’s why he’s there morning day and night.

And if you don't get it, then the reference here is Tae's Paris Vlive...

So, you ask if they are not a couple? If this conversation proves they are just good mates? Nope, not for me. Only thing it proves is that they felt the need to explain, once again with feeling, why JK is in JM’s room like ALL THE TIME, and the feeling I got was that the explanation wasn’t really for us, or perhaps kind of a pre-emptive strike to something we are unaware of as of yet (if at all).

So obviously we are going back into the realms of deniability here. I mean, look at your own ask, it's there already. How, if they are in a long term relationship, is this something they talk about, something Tae is surprised by.

But you see, Tae isn't surprised. This is a pattern of behaviour that has been happening since forever, one that Tae was aware of for many many years.

Now, they are in LA, they order room service, they have hotel staff coming in and out of their rooms, and JK is constantly in JM's assigned room. This is not their own staff, staff that is probably not acquainted with them, and for the better part probably don't know the stories about JK finding his way to JM's room. JK constantly being in JM's room, like all of the time, morning noon and night, well that would be a juicy piece of information to share outside. Perhaps that's something they find the need to explain, again with the deniability. The staff probably do have to sign some kind of NDA, but it's not SK and temptation to spill the beans (financially) might be a more attractive option. So, bringing it up now, well there you have your explanation, no beans spilled, because they were placed neatly on the plate for all of us to see, and that's that.

So, nothing big here.

What I did take from that was that there definitely is no intention or plan to 'come out' any time soon.

And you know what one of my other big takes from the live was?

Tae calling JK to come do the live with him only for JM to show up, almost blurting out that JK’s washing up so he came…

THAT’S my take !!!

As for your question about the hickey. It was a conscious decision to bring it up and tell it the way they did. On the one hand it’s obviously a hickey and whichever way you tell the story, it’s way beyond suspicious. This isn’t within the boundaries of a platonic friendship. It just isn’t. And yet they decided to share it with us. But they have to do it and still allow for some kind of question marks to remain, so they told the story the way they did, with an ‘apology’ (no apology was needed, did you see how JK was touching it with a smile on his face, while talking about it?). As for the other’s reactions, what did you want them to do? Imagine this: your two bandmates, whom you know to be a gay couple in a long term relationship, come to work one day, hickey visible, not covered up by makeup, on camera tell you the story of how said hickey happened. How would you react? There is actually nothing suspicious what so ever in the way they reacted there.

If you are still having doubts, which is a natural thing, as nothing is 100% proven unless they tell us so, do go back, check out the content, check out all those moments that made us believe they are the real deal, those moments we detected that physical attraction and moving beyond attraction, those moment we detected the emotional connection, one that is beyond a good friend connection. Go look at all those, and only then, when you remember all of that, make your decision.

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buttterknifeee · 3 years

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Deep Six- Teen Titans x Aquagirl!Reader

Request: May I request an insert in the episode Deep Six where the titans meet Aqualad?

Masterlist

Summary: Robin makes you accompany this guy name Aqualad and Beast Boy. Will you be able to handle them or will their bickering tear you apart. Also you're a katara kinnie (i know ATLA didn't exist then but still) This episode is Season 1 Episode 8!

Pairings: Platonic!Aqualad x reader, Robin x reader if you squint

Word Count: 4314

A/N: this time i decided not to split up the episode and post it as one! I made them meet for the first time here, so the Aqua kids don't bond much yet, but if you want to see more, feel free to request! (click here for guidelines) Also yes I also ended this one with "anyone up for pizza" thats all i know how to do to end a fan ficbskghs

“Ahhhh, don’t you just love the ocean?” you admired the shallow sea, the blue water flowing by you. The others prepared for launch, reading off the status of the T-Sub.

“Main power online.”

“Oxygen tanks at maximum”

“Defensive system active”

Beast boy hums confidently. “And your new secret weapon is ready to rock.”

Cyborg rolls his eyes through the headset. “Only time you qualify as a secret weapon is after eating a tofu bean burrito.” You stifled a giggle as Beast Boy yells in protest.

“Uh, 'scuse me, bud. Can you breathe underwater? Uh-uh. Can you be any fish in the sea?”

You shrugged your shoulders and smirked. “Cyborg can’t but I can. And I can breathe underwater without being a fish so I guess I’m just as much of a secret weapon as you, BB.”

You found out that you could breathe underwater a few days after you and the others formed the Teen Titans. You were surfing for the first time since that day when you fell off your board. You had accidentally inhaled underwater, and to your relief, you found that you were able to breathe in the ocean water with no problem. You offered to swim outside the sub on your own, but the team didn’t want you to get hurt, so you were stuck in the small confines of your own pod of the T-sub.

Robin ignores you three’s bickering. “We have to find out what this Trident guy is planning,” he says. “If it takes forty barrels of toxic waste, I doubt it's environmentally friendly.”

The engines warm up, the vessel humming to life. “Titan Launch!” Robin exclaims and the T-sub shoots through a tunnel and into the Jump CIty Bay. You watch in awe at the ocean life around you. Now that you had a connection to the ocean, your perspective on ocean life had changed. You clutch your seashell necklace as you continue to take in the view of the ocean, ignoring Beast Boy showing off his teeth and Cyborg turning off his mic as a result. Robin’s voice snaps you back into reality.

“Sonar contact. Beast Boy! Aquagirl! Ready to go?”

You gave a quick smile. “On it.” You unbuckle your harness and the dome unlatched, allowing you to swim out. Beast Boy gave a mischievous smirk.

“Dude, I was born ready. Try not to be jealous.” He aimed the second comment at Raven, who looked at him indifferently. Beast Boy quickly swam out of his pod and transformed into a whale.

“He just put on three hundred thousand pounds. I am so jealous.” she notes sarcastically.

You and Beast Boy made silent eye contact before swimming towards the cargo ship, examining its destroyed remains. He turns into a shark to keep investigating, and you follow his lead. You couldn’t help but feel that you were being watched, as you swam around the ship. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you see a green figure; not a bright green like Beast Boy’s but a sicker, murkier green. You point at the green man as he swam away, and you and Beast Boy immediately bolt after it, the T-sub following behind.

Your black scuba shoes propelled you forward, and you aimed blasts of water towards the figure, but it kept dodging your shots. The monster, whom you now assumed was Trident, fired his weapon at you and Beast Boy, and when you dodged, it hit the T-sub. You forced yourself to continue to chase after Trident, hoping that the vessel was also capable of dodging his shots.

You and Beast Boy were nearing close to catching Trident when a voice rang in your head. It wasn’t yours, nor Beast Boy’s; it was clear, belonging to someone no older than you were.

“Your friends are in danger.” you heard. You and Beast Boy both stopped in your tracks, looking at each other in shock. You realized that the T-sub was no longer following you.

“Our friends are in what? Whoa! How did you say that? Dude! How did I say that? Hey!” Beast Boy also says in your mind. You turn to see the T-sub being attacked, and shot off without waiting for Beast Boy.

“Dude, questions are for later! Let’s go!” You order, not even entirely sure how you were able to talk either. You approach the vessel, which was being destroyed by Trident, who you swore you were just chasing.

Suddenly, a figure knocked Trident down. Trident and the mystery person fought each other, moving so quickly that all you could see of the person was a blur of black and blue

You turn your attention to the T-sub, which was slowly sinking into a fissure on the seafloor. Water was filling up fast and a look of panic settled on your teammates faces (except Raven, who seemed to have accepted death). Your eyes glowed blue as you outstretched your arms towards the damaged vessel. Focusing on the water around the titans, you forced the leaks to cease and the descent into the fissure to stop. Your muscles burned as you kept your stance; holding the vessel in place underwater was similar to holding it up on your arms above ground. Beast Boy raced to help as you struggled to keep grip when suddenly, two whales came and carried the sub on their backs.

You let go of the ship and breathe a sigh of relief. Beast Boy sees you almost passing out and comes to your side, now in the form of a squid. Instead of comforting you, he complains about the whales' help.

"They got it? How come they got it?"

A familiar voice rang in your head again. "Because I asked for their help." The voice belonged to the guy who was fighting Trident before. He comes to your other side and supports your other arm, putting it around his neck.

"You talk to fish? Yeah right. And let go of her!"

"You guys need help, and I'm talking to you right?" He glared at Beast Boy, keeping his grip on you.

Beast Boy was about to reply when you held your hand up in front of his squid face. "Beast Boy, I'm a solid five seconds from collapsing. I'm fine with the help."

The guy in blue gave a small smile. "And it's called telepathy. Let's go."

The three of you swam into a cavern. As you entered, the T-sub was floating on the water's surface and although it was extremely damaged, it managed to keep your teammates safe. You nodded to Beast Boy and the other teen and they let you go as you approach the other titans.

Raven asked, "where are we?"

"My place," the mysterious teen answered. "I told the whales to bring you here."

Raven and Starfire both blushed and gave bashful thank yous. You stared at them. Are they… in love with the new guy???, you thought, confused.

Beats Boy seemed angrier than ever. "He saved you?" He yelled, turning back into his human form. "Hel-lo? I was there too, you know."

Cyborg raised an eyebrow. "Were you? Because if anything I remember Aquagirl keeping us from drowning. What, you stopped Trident from kebabbing us with that souped up shrimp fork?"

"Way to go!" Robin said sarcastically. Beast Boy stuttered a response, but the blue teen interrupted.

"Aquagirl, huh? Well, I'm Aqualad. Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier, we Atlanteans like to keep a low profile."

You shake his hand, now taking in what Aqualad looked like. He was half a foot taller than you, with slicked back hair and black pupils. He wore a bodysuit with blue scales and black accents. He had nice features, but you couldn't figure out why the other girls were drooling over him, so you kept that thought to yourself.

"You're from Atlantis? That's so cool!" You say.

He nodded. "So is Trident." He opens up a hologram from a table in the cavern. "He's the worst criminal in Atlantis, with an ego to match."

He continues a sideshow filled with pictures of the sickly green monster. "Trident claims he's perfect in every way so he thinks he can do whatever he wants."

"Any ideas what he wants to do with all that toxic waste?" Robin asked.

"Whatever it is, it'll be bad for both our worlds. He's already gained some kind of new power. It's like he can be everywhere at once." Aqualad says.

"Noticed that," Raven says sarcastically.

"As long as we're after the same guy, maybe we can help each other." He looks at the six of you.

Your eyes sparkle. "Of co-" you begin, but Beast Boy pushed you out of the way.

"Whoa, hey, no, we're good. Got the whole Trident thing under control. 'Sides, I'm sure there's a school of minnows somewhere that need your--" He rejects Aqualad's offer, much to you and the other's dismay. Robin pulls him back, and the six of you group huddled.

"We're at the bottom of the ocean," Raven notes.

"Our sub is Swiss cheese." Cyborg adds.

"I almost died back there," You say.

"And we cannot breathe water," Starfire mentions.

Robin is the first to break away from the huddle. "We'll take any help you can give us." He says to Aqualad.

Aqualad nods and has some amphibian guy named Tramm fix the T-sub. He turns back to us. "While he's helping you, I'll track down Trident. " He turns to go into the ocean again, but Beast Boy intersects.

"You mean I'll track down Trident," He says, pushing him a little

Aqualad pushes him back a little harder. "That's ok, I can handle it."

"Thanks, but I think I should do this."

"Seriously, I can take care of it!"

The five of you watched as their quarrel turned into an all out brawl, and suddenly you couldn't take it anymore.

"GUYS," You yell, causing a wall of water to shoot up next to them to grab their attention. They both stared at you wide eyed. "Stop. The. Fighting." You say with a stern expression.

"Why don't you two both go track him down together?" Robin offers, but the two teens cross their arms and scoff.

"I usually work alone." Aqualad says.

"Yeah. Me too."

"You do not! You're part of a team!"

"And you hang out with Tramm the fish boy! What's your point?"

"Hey! Arguing isn't going anywhere. Listen, Aquagirl can go with you. That'll make sure you stay on task." Robin commands, and you perk up at the sound of your name. You quickly pulled him aside.

"What the hell man?? They obviously don't like each other, you should have seen how much they fought on the way here!." You argue, and Robin looks at you through his masked eyes.

"You're the only other person who can survive underwater, they're gonna need you. Besides, you're great at handling conflicts; you'll be fine." He says with a smile. You blush a little at his comment, and sighed.

"Alright Rob, you can count on me” You return to the rest of the group and the three of you jump into the ocean.

As you headed towards the bottom of the ocean, you decided to ask Aqualad a question that's been bothering you.

“Hey Aqualad,” you say telepathically. “Before you said that you were able to communicate with sea animals. How come you’re able to communicate with me?”

“I don’t know actually,” Aqualad admits, still swimming next to you. He points to your necklace. “I’m guessing it's because of your necklace.” He stops to examine it. Beast Boy groans and stops as well. It glowed a little in his hand as he read the ancient text off of it.

“The Shell of Poseidon,” He read out loud. “I recognize this from the library in Atlantis. Only Atlanteans can use its powers, so you must be Atlantean then, right?”

“Woah! I’m not Atlantean, I’ve never even been there,” you sputter, absolutely shocked at what the teen said.

“Well, you must have some blood in you,” he shrugged. “Hey, maybe we’re cousins or something.”

You grin. “Aquacousin? I like the sound of that!”

Beast Boy interrupts your moment. “Ok, haha, family is fun and all, but while you were floating around finding out parts of your identity or whatever, I’ve actually found something on my sonar so, try to keep up.” He swims off, leaving you two to follow him. You expected to see the sea monster, but instead came upon a group of dolphins.

“No offense B.B. but these don't look like Trident to me.” you smirk.

Aqualad swims up to the dolphins, focusing on his telepathy. The dolphins swim up together and Aqualad turns to you and Beast Boy.

“They told me where to find Trident. Try to keep up.” He mocks Beast Boy, then swims with the dolphins. You look at Beast Boy, who seemed pretty grumpy, and turn to follow Aqualad.

You tailed behind as the two boys raced each other, Beast Boy turning into various aquatic creatures to catch up with the equally competitive teen. Then you see it. In front of them, Trident swam into view. You and Aqualad stop on instinct, but Beast Boy keeps going.

"Beast Boy! Stop!" You both yell, as he barrels straight towards Trident.

"What's the matter?" He taunts. "Am I too fast for y-"

You winced as you watched him crash into the sea monster and fall to the floor.

"Heh… how's it going," Beast Boy says telepathy to the monster towering over him. Trident growled.

"Keep your thoughts to yourself, you inferior fool!" He pointed his well, trident at beast boy and fires; Beast Boy barely dodges it.

Aqualad tackles Trident and they fall off an underwater ridge.

"Oh no you! This time he's mine!" Beast Boy yells, following Aqualad to the ridge.

"Beast Boy wai-" you yell, but was cut off by something grazing the side of your head. You turn, and see Trident swing his weapon at you. You dodged his next swing, wondering how he was able to get to you right after being attacked by Aqualad. You send him flying across the ocean with your water powers, when you hear Beast Boy yelling. You turn to see Beast Boy in squid form latched onto Aqualad's face. You could see Trident swim away from the corner of your eye as you swam to pull Beast Boy off of Aqualad. Aqualad glares at Beast Boy, his face peppered with red dots from Beast Boy's accidental attack.

“I said, ‘incoming’” he defends himself. Aqualad ignores him and points to another figure swimming into a grotto.

“He’s getting away!” Aqualad swims away, Beast Boy following.

“Wait-” you say, confused. Didn't you just send Trident flying in the other direction? How did he move so quickly? You reluctantly followed your friends into the cavern. You joined them as they observed the two tunnels that split off into two different directions.

“What are we gonna do now?” you think out loud.

“Maybe the question is where were you guys?” Aqualad snaps, turning to the two of you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion while Beast Boy swims forward to be face to face with Aqualad.

“Where was I? Fighting Trident by myself!” He jabbed a squid tentacle into Aqualads shoulder.

“You barely laid a tentacle on him! At least I managed to break his weapon!”

“Dude, that's just wrong. I so broke that fork thing!”

“BOYS!” you yell. “I also fought Trident and I sent him in the opposite direction, and now he's here. There's something going on…” The two began to think, but then perked their heads up. They then point at opposite tunnels.

“There he goes!” they yell at the same time. You stare at the two of them in even deeper confusion. Beast boy swims up to you, making eye contact.

“I saw him! He's that way! I'm right, he's wrong! End of story!” He crosses his tentacles. Aqualad pushes Beast Boy aside so that you were now staring at his dark pupils.

"I'm telling you, he's this way!"

"GUYS, we can just split up," You say flatly, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Aqualad I'm sure you can handle yourself, so I'll go with Beast Boy."

"Aw sweet!- Heyyy…" Beast Boy says to your backhanded comment. Aqualad nods and swims off into the tunnel.

You and Beast Boy were alone in the tunnel when you sighed.

"B.B., why do you keep picking fights with Aqualad?" You asked, still looking ahead. Beast Boy turns to you, acting shocked.

"ME??? It's not my fault Mr. Pretty-Boy-Know-It-All keeps showing off!" He whines.

"Dude, he's just trying to help us. Maybe you should-" you were cut off by a loud booming voice.

"Worthless scum! You cannot beat perfection!" Trident bellowed from behind you. You and Beast Boy turned, already in a fighting position.

"How many of you fork things do you have?" He mumbled as you charged forward.

You dodged his energy bolts, Trident in return dodging your attempts to push him farther back. Beast Boy turns into a turtle, pulling his arms and legs inside. Trident threw his weapon and it bounced off of him, flying into you and sending the two of you hurtling through the water.

"I always win!" You hear him say as you regain your stance. Beast Boy turns into a giant crab, grabbing onto Trident's weapon.

"And I thought Aqualad had a big ego!" He yelled telepathically.

"BEAST BOY GET BACK!" You yell. He swiftly let go, and you shot a jet of water towards Trident, sending him flying into a cavern wall. The cavern shakes, and a mass of boulders come crashing down. All you could see was a crushed trident sticking out from under the rocks. You breathed a sigh of relief until you felt a searing pain in your leg. You look and see a burn mark; Trident probably hit you before you buried him in a pile of rocks. Beast Boy looks at you, a worried expression in his eyes (despite being in the form of an ocean animal).

“I’ll be fine,” you grimace. “Let's find a way out first.” You painstakingly swim until you find a cave similar to Aqualads. You drag yourself towards the land as Beast Boy turns back into his human form. Right after you pull yourself up, you see Aqualad jump out of the water. He sees the two of you, and runs to meet up with you. He and Beast Boy begin to talk at the same time.

“ I just saw Trident!... No, you didn't!... Yes, I did! Cut it out!”

“I don’t care what you say! I fought Trident!” Beast Boy yelled, a vein nearly jumping out of his forehead.

"That's impossible!" Aqualad counters, his fists clenched so tight you thought you saw blood.

They both seemed to be prepared to fight each other. You jumped in between them, holding both their heads back as they flail their arms, trying to get a hit at each other.

"You know," You begin, silencing the two boys. "When Robin asked me to join you guys, I didn't want to. You two are heroes that just met each other and you were already fighting! But he told me that I could handle it and he's right! I can handle the both of you; but it seems to me that you guys can't handle each other. So here's what's gonna happen: I'm gonna heal myself because oh right! I got BURNT and you two are gonna talk it out." You let go of the boys, and they watched as you limped over to the edge of the water, plopped yourself down, and started pulling the ocean water to your leg. You listened in a little as you concentrated the water on your leg. It only took a few seconds to heal your burn, it was only surface level and you had gotten better at using your healing powers. They were still talking as you noticed what was in front of you: hundreds of Trident clones and yellow Trident capsules-eggs attached to the ceiling.

"Uh guys…" you say, rejoining them, but they had seen it too.

"One Trident is bad…" Aqualad says.

"... but this is…" Beast Boy adds.

"... an entire …" You say.

"...ARMY!" One of the tridents finishes your thought.

They all charge, and the three of you brace or impact. You raise your arms and a wave of water takes out a small group of the monster clones. You dodge their attacks, shooting jets of water at their heads. You see Beast Boy get flung into a machine, and an egg hatching sequence begins on the screen. You regroup with the other boys in front of the machine.

"Oops," Beast Boy said sheepishly.

"Great," Aqualad groaned as the clones began to close in.

"We need a plan," You mumble.

A group of the clones began to speak.

"My brilliant plan is already a success"

"If one of me was perfect…"

"Why not make more?"

"You can never have too much of a good thing"

"Once my army conquers Atlantis…"

"I will declare war on the surface world! Everyone on the planet will bow down before me"

"And praise my perfection!"

Aqualad whispers to the both of you as the clones cheer. "Any bright ideas?"

Beast Boy whispered back. "Just one. Try to keep up." He turned to the clones. "So if you're all perfect, which one of you is the best?" He asked.

One of the tridents answered. "I am!... Huh?"

As soon as you understood what Beast Boy was doing, you grinned. Aqualad stepped up.

"Come on. You can't all be the best." He says.

"One of you must be better than the others," You add.

One of the tridents step forward. "I am the original!I am the best!"

"You are not the original"

"I am!" Multiple tridents yell at once.

"Nonsense you inferior fools! I am perfect! I am Trident! "

You watch in amusement as the clones turn on each other and the fight turns into a full on brawl. The fight eventually ends, and all the tridents laid on the ground, defeated. Aqualad turns to Beast Boy.

"Great idea," He says. You noticed that there were no hints of sarcasm in his voice. Whatever they said to each other earlier must have made them work better together, you figured.

"Kinda got it from you," Beast Boy says."Now we just have to stop those from hatching." He points to the yellow pod filled ceiling. Right as he said that, the screen on the machine behind you hit 0 on the timer and the word "begin" flashed on the screen.

"Too late!" The three of you yelled at the same time. New Trident clones were breaking through their membrane "eggs". Beast Boy instinctively turns into a hippopotamus and tramples the crowd, creating a path to the ocean. You and Aqualad sprint behind Beast Boy, dodging the clones' outstretched arms. You all dive into the water, the Tridents close behind.

"We can't let them escape! We need to find some way of sealing the exit!" Aqualad yells telepathically.

"Right now, I'm just worried about getting to the exit." Beast Boy replies. You didn't look back, but you could feel the clones closing in. As you got closer to the exit you saw a familiar looking silhouette.

"The T-sub!" You exclaimed as you swam out of the cave. The clones stop in their tracks in confusion.

"Huh?" You hear one of them say.

You moved out of the way as the sub sent beams towards the entrance of the cave. The Blast caused a pile of rubble to fall, blocking the exit. You smile at your team who's cheering (along with Aqualad’s friend Tramm) inside their pods. The three of you turn bad to observe the T-sub’s work.

“Good thing Trident likes himself so much, 'cause I'm thinking he won't see anybody else for a looong time.” Beast Boy says.

You find yourself on the surface again, on the shore of the Titan’s Tower. Raven and Starfire both continue to look at Aqualad with heart eyes as Robin steps forward.

“Consider yourself an honorary titan” he says with a smile, holding out a familiar black and yellow communicator for him to take. “We couldn't have done it without you. Thanks.”

“Right back at you. It's good to know there's people up here I can trust.” Aqualad looks at you and Beast boy. He says goodbye to Raven and Starfire, who blushingly say it back. He then turns to Beast Boy.

“What can I say, dude? You're the best.” Beast Boy says.

“Nah. You're the best.”

“Yeah, you're right. And if you ever want me to prove it, I'm always up for a race.”

“Just try and keep up.” Aqualad laughs, patting his head. He finally turned to you.

“Aquagirl, it's been really nice to meet you. Next time you’re near Atlantis, give me a call and I’ll show you around. There's so much to show you,” he stretched out his hand for a handshake, but you pulled him in for a hug. He was surprised at your gesture, but soon returned it. Raven and Starfire looked at you with pure envy as you pulled back with a smile.

“I’ll take your word for it, Aquacousin” you say, making a reference to your nickname for him earlier. He laughs, then waves goodbye. The six of you wave back as he swims back into the ocean. Robin gently put his hand on your shoulder.

“You did a great job today Aquagirl. I knew I could count on you.”

“You know you can always count on me, dude.” you say with a smile. “Now I’m kinda hungry. Anyone up for pizza?”

148 notes · View notes

cardentist · 3 years

Text

I haven’t been in the star trek fandom for very long (I’ve only just started binging the series in the last couple months), so it’s been pretty surprising to find out just how negative the perception of the reboot movies are.

this isn’t coming from the perspective of someone who grew up with the series, so it hit different for me than it might for people with a different relationship to TOS, but I thought it was genuinely clever and Respectful with how it was handled.

To quote leonard nimoy: “Well the alternative timeline gives them license to escape from canon concerns. I can’t see people saying ‘they shouldn’t do that because…’ or ‘that doesn’t tie in to such and such’ because it is a different time and place. Am I right about that?” [Link]

the entire Premise is that the original series happened as it was presented in TOS, but an event late in Spock’s life caused the creation of a parallel universe in which everyone’s lives were significantly altered through two key changes to the timeline. this gives them the freedom to Both revel in fanservice And explore different facets of the characters and their relationships.

the destruction of vulcan Vastly impacts the characters and the plot moving forward, and its a detail that a lot of people take issue with. but the emotional impact of sarek admitting Directly to spock that there is value in his humanity, that his feelings Aren’t wrong, that sarek married amanda because he Loved her cannot be understated. you can read all of these things into sarek as he was in the original series, but he Never had an open conversation about these things with spock. this creates a Believable and Rewarding change in their relationship, where we get to see a different facet of them Because of the changes made. and that’s exactly the appeal. showing us pieces of these characters that we never got in TOS that are nevertheless undeniably Them.

everyone is Different yes, but they’re also fundamentally the same people at their core and that matters.

kirk’s personality obviously takes the biggest change, with him experiencing trauma at a young age, losing his father, and having an implied abusive father figure after that point. he has a harsher personality in reaction to harsher conditions, he’s spikier and harder to love. but he’s also still fundamentally a Good person whose willing to risk everything to help people. he still has what made kirk prime a good captain and a good friend.

I’m not gonna say that it’s the most nuanced story in the world, but it explores a version of kirk that was born from even Less fortunate circumstances than kirk prime, exploring a kirk brimming with potential who learned to bite back after he was kicked down. exploring those themes of trauma and loss, of insecurity and growth, and coming to the conclusion that Fundamentally He Is Capable Of Good isn’t a Bad thing. you don’t have to like it, but his growth into a better person is The Point. they deepened his flaws (all of which were present in a less exaggerated form in TOS) To Show That Growth.

and then of course there’s his relationship with spock.

people are totally justified in not liking that they had a rough start to their relationship, I usually don’t like to see that kind of thing in reboots or hollywood adaptations either, but the way people talk about it is just unfair.

Yes kirk and spock and bones have a very strong relationship in TOS, they also already know each other by the time the show starts. to look at them having to learn to get to know and trust each other when they first meet and say that it’s Bad because they were already full on ride or die for each other in the og series is silly. TOS kirk and spock had to meet and fall in love with each other too, it didn’t just happen over night kings.

secondly, the entire point of the first movie is that Even With reality itself being altered to pull them apart they are fundamentally compatible people that are Bound to each other. they meet each other on bad terms because of circumstances outside of their control, and yet they’re still pulled into each other’s orbit and find the other slotting into place next to them as if they always belonged. one of the first things that spock prime says in the movie is “I am and always will be your friend,” spock and jim are Meant for each other and the movie goes out of its way to explain that. which is what makes it so Weird to see people complaining about how they don’t like each other.

it’s a Different relationship, but it’s absolutely no less steeped in yearning or queer subtext.

speaking of queer subtext ! some people are Very unhappy with spock’s relationship with uhura.

first thing I wanna say is that making the argument that they’re doing anything that the original series hasn’t done is just, completely untrue. kirk has fallen in love with more girls in the og series than he knew what to do with, leonard nimoy was a heartthrob in his time (and he deserves it, awooga) and spock reflects that ! Spock usually turns the women who come onto him down (or when he doesn’t it’s because a plant has literally altered his mind), but there are exceptions to even that. all of three of the main boys have plenty of romance subplots, it happens. if that takes the possibility of them being queer off the table for you (which it shouldn’t, m-spec people exist) then I’m sorry to say that TOS is not exempt.

now, I can understand why Specifically This Relationship could rub people the wrong way or being disappointed that they didn’t outright depict kirk and spock as having a relationship (if not in the first movie then in the following ones after they’ve gotten to know each other), but even in that context the way I’ve seen people talk about it comes off as insensitive.

no, the relationship did not come out of nowhere. they considered having spock and uhura date each other in the original show (and you can see signs of this in the earlier episodes, where uhura very obviously flirts with him and they spend time together in their down time) before they decided against it, and spock was originally going to kiss uhura until shatner insisted that he wanted to do it (because it was the first interracial kiss on tv). [Link 1, Link 2, Link 3]

nichelle nichols was asked about this exact thing (spock and uhura’s relationship in the movie), you can read the interview in full here [Link] but I’d like to highlight this paragraph in particular:

“Now, go back to my participation in Star Trek as Uhura and Leonard (Nimoy) as Spock. There was always a connection between Uhura and Spock. It was the early 60’s, so you couldn’t do what you can do now, but if you will remember, Uhura related to Spock. When she saw the captain lost in space out there in her mirror, it was Spock who consoled her when she went screaming out of her room. When Spock needed an expert to help save the ship, you remember that Uhura put something together and related back to him the famous words, “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m afraid.” And Uhura was the only one who could do a spoof on Spock. Remember the song (in “Charlie X”)? Those were the hints, as far as I’m concerned.”

the film makers looked at the fact there were Hints for uhura and spock, that they were Interested in exploring an interracial couple for the first time (both before and immediately after interracial couples won the right to legally get married) but Couldn’t because of the circumstances of the times and decided to Make that depiction. you don’t have to Like their relationship just because of that fact, but it’s Incredibly reductive to play down it’s significance as just a No Homo cop out. explicitly queer relationships are not the only progressive or culturally important relationships in fiction.

moreover, if you can’t imagine polyamory in the communist utopian future that’s on you.

moreover, this perception that this was a soulless cash grab is just, unfounded.

leonard nimoy returned to the role as spock for the first time in 16 years (since 1991) and this was Entirely because of the respect they had for nimoy, spock as a character, and the franchise as a whole.

Lets look at some quotes from nimoy in interviews regarding the film:

Leonard Nimoy: When I first read the script (...) I immediately contacted J.J. and said “I think it is terrific…I think you guys have done a wonderful job. There is still work to be done, but it is very clear that you and your writers know what you are doing and you know how to do this movie and know what it should be about….and I am very interested.” Then as time went by we worked things out with Paramount, but the most important things were J.J. and the script. (...) I am very pleased about that and I am very comfortable with where this is going. I think the writers have done a terrific job. They have a real sense of the characters and the heart of Star Trek and what it is really all about.

(...)

TrekMovie.com: Now in the case of the new movie you have been retired from acting for years. What was it about this one that made you want to act again and go through the make up again? What was it that made you say ‘I really want to do this?’

Leonard Nimoy: You are right, this is a special situation. First it is Star Trek and so I have to pay attention. I owe that to Star Trek. Second place is that it is J.J. Abrams who I think very highly of, he is a very talented guy. Then came the script and it was very clear that I could make a contribution here. The Spock character that I am playing, the original Spock character, is essential and important to the script. So on the basis of those three elements it was easy to make the decision. So those three things: Star Trek, J.J. Abrams, and an interesting Spock role.

[Link]

Praising the cast playing younger versions of characters from the original 1960s TV series, he [Leonard Nimoy] said: “Let me take the opportunity to say this. Everybody at this table [the cast] are very, very talented and intelligent people.”

“They found their own way to bring that talent and intelligence to this movie, and I think it shows. (...) When Karl Urban introduced himself as Leonard McCoy and shook hands with Chris Pine, I burst into tears. That performance of his is so moving, so touching and so powerful as Doctor McCoy, that I think D. Kelley would be smiling, and maybe in tears as well.”

“The makers of this film reawakened the passion in me that I had when we made the original film and series. I was put back in touch with what I cared about and liked about Star Trek, and why I enjoyed being involved with Star Trek. So, it was an easy way to come on home.”

“[In this Star Trek] they said things and showed me things, and demonstrated the sensibility that I felt very comfortable with, and I think that shows in the movie. I like it.”

[Link 1, Link 2]

again, you don’t have to like it just because leonard nimoy did, you don’t have to Agree. but the idea that nobody working on the film Cared is provably false. near everyone working on the project was already a fan of the series or were excited to be involved and did their homework. it’s genuinely a Miracle just how much of a labor of love this was, and in my opinion you can feel that through the movie itself. I’d highly recommend looking into interviews and behind the scenes details about the movies. they had a respect not just for the source material, but for leonard nimoy as a person.

there’s definitely more I Could say about this, but it’s 4 am now so I’m gonna shelve it jklfdsa

that said! it’s Fine to not like the movie, not everything is going to be suited to everyone’s taste, but the specific criticisms I’ve seen feel very off base

#star trek #kirk #spock #uhura #nichelle nichols #leonard nimoy #star trek aos #aos #star trek tos #tos #meta #long post #hello followers I write essays about star trek now

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eartht137 · 3 years

Text

FOR THE BETTER pt. III

Oh curvies I have another part to put up for you. I'm hoping this is enjoyable please feel free to leave feedback, I need it lol. Not too much to say about this chapter except here ya go. I had fun writing more about Lois in this chapter and giving her perspective a bit about the whole "friendship" so let me know so I can improve. Alright read away love ya MMMMwwwwahhhhh!!!

Summary: Clark and Y/n have been spending a lot of time together. Y/n has asked Clark to invite Lois along but she hardly ever shows up. Y/n doesn't think much of it, but she should, because Lois wants time with her man and Y/n is in the way. How will Clark handle the distance though?

Dark Clark Kent x Black!Plus Size Reader

Over the next few weeks you and Clark spent almost everyday together, and you were starting to feel a bit bad that Lois hadn't been able to join, but a handful of times. Clark spent every moment he had available working to get you to fully trust him and you finally relented to having movie night at his place.

"Hey bestie." You greeted as you removed you jacket.

"I was thinking, I want to take you out one day." he commented from his couch as you began moving around his kitchen to start making dinner.

"Uh, no." You said calmly.

"You do realize I've only seen you your uniform, casual clothes, and pajamas. I've never seen you dressed up."

"Well tough luck Kent," You said pointing a big metal spoon at him. "I don't do dress up." You said sticking your nose in the air.

"You don't do a lot of things." He complained under his breath. You held the cooking spoon to your chest and calmly walked in front of him. "It is my job in my life and the next to give you the biggest amount of grief and shit since you made the decision to bulldoze your way into my blissful loneliness." he erupted into a fit of laughter as you spoke in your overly proper accent. "Furthermore, I shall repeat my earlier sentiment. I don't do dress up. Now, Mr. Kent, I am preparing our meal and you shall behave if you want dessert." You said holding you overly proper dramatic demeanor.

"Dessert?" He asked biting his lip, his mind traveling to dangerous thoughts.

"Oh yes, a quite delightful dessert-a mortal weakness of mine." You said in a dramatically evil way, rubbing your hands together as if you'd created something diabolical.

"Oh god here we go." Clark said pinching the bridge of his nose.

"CHOCOLATE!!!!" You both yelled out together, you added and evil laugh at the end and walked like Igor to the stove, rubbing circles on the glass.

"Yes, yes, bake my pretty's and we shall take over this world-TOGETHER!!!" You definitely had Clark in tears of laughter. A slow clap brought him out of his euphoric laughter. You both looked and saw Lois standing in the door way and she didn't seem too happy. You assumed it was because of work.

"Hey Lois." You said cheerfully not really noticing how she was looking between you and Clark.

"What's going on?" She asked folding her arms across her chest.

"It's movie night." You said excited that she was there. "Come, come. I show you." You said getting back in character to cheer her up. You Igor walked with her back to the kitchen making her laugh even though she was upset and didn't want to. You opened the stove and showed her the dessert. "Shh shh, no one must know of my plan." You said rubbing your hands together evilly.

"What plan?" She asked confused.

"To take over the world with CHOCOLATE!!!" You said throwing your hands in the air adding the evil laugh at the end.

"Go, go you must go and prepare yourself." You said shooing her away.

"Prepare myself?" she asked even more confused.

"For movie night. A night of terrifying, horrible, scary-wait, what are we watching again?" you asked Clark. He said a movie you hated and you immediately deflated laying on the floor in tantrum style. "You said we wouldn't watch that one. No wait, its our viewer of honors turn to choose. Lois, you don't know how great it is to have you for movie night!" you said jumping up genuinely excited. She couldn't help but smile because she could see you didn't have bad intentions, but the same couldn't be said for Clark. She really didn't know what his deal was. She questioned him from the beginning when he began to talk about you and your work. She didn't think much of it at first, even when he invited you for dinner at his mom's, she honestly thought he was just being nice because you were a loner in his class, but when the movie nights and friend outings overshadowed their relationship, that's when she realized something else was up. She saw the long stares and smiles at you, she remembered when he used to look at her that way. The only thing that kept her certain that he still loved her was that he hadn't told you his biggest secret. Your gasp startled them out of there stare down.

"I forgot the whipped cream." You said urgently.

"There's some in the fridge." Clark said pointing at the refrigerator. You put your hands on your hips and glared at him.

"Is it cool whip?" You asked waiting for his answer and his silence was answer enough. "Its alright, I'll go get some."

"You most certainly will not. I'll go get some. I'll be right back."

"Woah dude, you're forgetting the cash." You said fishing in your pocket for money. He chuckled, ruffled your fro, and left. "Dude, I said not the mop." you said fixing your hair.

"So..." Lois said a bit awkwardly as you walked back to the kitchen.

So, how's everything at the Daily Planet going? Clark was telling me you were on this really big blow up article. I can help. I can go and get info that way you don't have to and you can spend more time with Clark." You said with a smile.

"Yeah, lets talk about that, spending more time with Clark. How about you back off a bit and not spend so much time with him."

"Oh-I...." You trailed off feeling a bit uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize-I....I didn't know, honest, but you're absolutely right. I'm so sorry." You said genuinely feeling bad that Clark hadn't been spending time with her as you thought. You respected that she needed him and even though you tried to avoid it, you figured something like that would happen. "Should-do you want me to leave?" You asked not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

"No, stay, just....I need him too. Tonight's okay, but just a couple of weeks? I need him to myself." she said hoping you'd understand.

"I completely understand." you said continuing to prepare the meal for the evening. You really wanted to leave, but you didn't want to make everything awkward. When Clark made it back, Lois was able to keep up the act, you weren't. Clark could tell right off something was up, even when you kept saying you were okay, he could tell you were lying. Once dinner was done, you all sat quietly watching the movie Lois had picked. Soon he and Lois had fallen asleep together on the couch. Taking that as your moment, you tried to leave as quietly as you could. You were just opening the door when you heard him stir awake.

"Y/n? Where are you going? Its too late."

You quickly rushed out and left without saying a word. That was the last he heard from you for almost 3 weeks. You didn't show up for class in person, only opting to take the online course for awhile, and you wouldn't answer his texts or calls. One evening after not getting a response, Clark was fed up and he was ready to confront you about your sudden absence. When he got to your door he saw that it wasn't fully closed. He heard your muffled cries and made his way to make sure you were okay. He saw you burying your face in the pillow trying to quiet your cries. His arms wrapped around you like a blanket and you immediately began to calm down and feel better. After awhile when you calmed down, you tried to get up, but Clark held you still. He went and got you a glass of water and aspirin. He made sure you got everything down safely and he hovered over you not giving you room to escape.

"Are you okay?" He asked still caging you in. You nodded. "What's going on? Why have you been avoiding me? I thought we were friends? I would've been able to be here to help you but you shut me out and I want to know why?"

"Clark, really? Right now?"

"You're damn right, right now."

"You can't spend everyday with me and neglect Lois, its not right. She needs you to be there for her and you can't do that hanging around with me." You said trying to get from under him.

"She said something to you?"

"Of course she did, I assumed she'd spoken with you, I just didn't want to upset her or cause problems."

"You didn't want to upset her? Oh right, but you didn't think of how it would upset me, your friend?"

"Clark, are you even listening? Lois needs you she-"

"I'm not talking about Lois, I'm talking about you and me. You don't shut me out like that. Did you even consider what I would think or feel? Did you think of maybe coming to me and talking about it?"

"N-no, I-"

"No you didn't, you were being selfish!" He yelled making you feel bad. You'd never seen him so upset and you immediately wanted to make it right.

"Dude, I'm sorry okay. I just felt so bad that I was coming between your relationship, I just didn't want to upset her."

"Once again, we're not talking about her, we're talking about you and me. I'm trying to make you understand that what you did was hurtful."

"-and I'm explaining why I did it. I was asked to step back, so I did. What more should I have done?"

"You should've come to me! You talk to me and tell me what's going on."

"Clark, yes you are my friend, but that is mad disrespectful and I won't disrespect her. She came first, I'm just the little lost puppy you picked up okay? You can't neglect her you will lose her." you tried explaining to him. He stared at you for a second, before storming off. He went and stood on your patio to cool off and you took him a drink as a peace offering. When you handed it to him, he grabbed your hand in his.

"Don't ever do that again." He chastised before pulling you into a big hug. That night, you both cooked dinner together and sat to talk a bit more.

"Clark, I know you might not want to talk about it anymore, but I really do think you need to talk with Lois. She needs you more than you know."

"She doesn't need me, she hasn't needed me for a long time. We don't even sleep together anymore. I can't even remember the last time we had sex." he said taking a long swig of his beer. You shifted a bit uncomfortably. That was a huge no-no topic for you and you fought to keep the image from crossing your mind. You already felt bad for the very vivid dreams you'd been having about him, so vivid they'd jerk you awake.

"You really should talk to her." you whispered. "I-I have something I wanted to tell you."

"Oh yeah?" he asked curious.

"I met someone, we're just getting to know each other now, but I really like them. They're super awesome and super sweet, and before you ask, its not the guy from class." you said smiling and finally looking at him. You noticed that he looked pissed. His jaw was tight and he wouldn't look at you. "Dude you okay?" he sat silent for a moment too long. "Clark, what's wrong?" He didn't say anything, he just got up and walked out of your apartment. It was his turn to ghost you and you didn't speak with him again until you decided to go back to class in person and you'd hoped whatever was bugging him had passed. When you walked in class, he didn't even acknowledge you and you were hurt. You waited back after class to at least speak to him. Once everyone cleared out you tried talking to him.

"Hey, how've you been?" you asked carefully.

"Oh I've just been, trying to spend time with Lois as requested." He snipped at you.

"O-kay well, just wanted to check on you." you said turning to leave, but he grabbed your hand.

"No, don't leave. I'm sorry, its just...it been a really long day and I haven't talked to my friend in weeks. Come on, lets go to the office." He said leading you back to the back. You both sat back there catching up and joking.

"Well I have a favor to ask, and I promise you don't have to if you can't or don't want to, but I wanted to ask if you and Lois would like to come on a double date with me and my new partner this weekend."

The look he gave you quickly made you rethink asking him that question.

"I mean you don't have to, I understand if you have plans."

He stood stone still staring at you for way too long, then he smiled.

"Yeah, we'll be there. What time and where?" He asked.

What you'd missed was the deviousness dripping off of his voice because his smile made it seem like he was being nice. You gave him all the info and hugged him before waving goodbye.

"Dinner this weekend huh?" Clark said to himself. "Dinner is going to be very nice." He said before getting his material together for his next class.

#dark clark kent #x black reader #plus size reader #lois lane #henry cavill

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ellsbclls · 3 years

Note

" wow... you look... you look amazing. " for peter please? i love love love ur writing btw!

NOTE: This... ended up so embarrassingly long... i don't even know what the word count is, but i can bet it's a good 20%-30% longer than the average blurb.

WARNINGS: cursing, quirky🤪 mentions of drug use, implied making out (but can be perceived as sex, dear god please don’t perceive it as sex though), and some good ol’ fashion stark!ready x peter parker banter

They say, "never meet your heroes." Well, Peter wished he had adhered to that warning before he ended up here — a lanky, overdressed thumb towering high above the roof of the Avenger's Compound.

A semi-annual assembly of New York City's finest heroes that had little to do with their civic duties, and much to do with their inhibitions, and just how much alcohol it would take to release them — but there was one glaring problem.

Peter didn't drink.

He never saw the allure, especially when it came at such a high risk. He'd convinced himself that he refrained for the sake of Aunt May, the only remaining part of his family who put her life on the line to ensure his safety and overall well-being — the Spider-Man reveal already took some getting used to, he didn't need to add drunken night expenditures to her overnight fretting. Yet, when Flash's 'End of the Year' party had been raided by the police, a small part of him found joy in knowing he needn't fear the police or their breathalyzer test, even if he was deemed Pussy Parker for the remainder of that summer.

Even if he wanted to instill some liquid courage into himself, he hadn't the basic courage to let himself be vulnerable like that, in front of all the adults that made up the Avengers. Mr.Stark had already commented on his only suit, and how small he looked as it swamped his form, and the entire altercation made him wish the roof would just open up and swallow him whole.

Bullies, you'd call them.

There they were, New York's finest Defender's, huddled around the Mastrangelo like it couldn't put their entire life savings to shame, hosting a rousing game of beer pong upon its marble exterior. Your father was lucky your mother was still in Milan, tying up loose ends on a new line of bullshit you didn't concern yourself with. You just counted the days until she returned home, and you could soak up every ounce of her nurturing presence.

God, did you miss her.

It’s not like your father wasn’t just as nurturing, competitively so, to a point were you almost felt smothered — but you were too alike. In spaces where you both held too stubborn, your mother was there to mediate, and with ceaseless barrages of dry humor came her firm, unwavering severity, proving her love with candid remarks instead of jesting quips.

“Oh, free intern!” He dragged you from your nostalgic supercut with your endearing nickname, coaxing a fierce glare from your hues. “Run down to that place on 7th street and get some beer? And not that Miller Coor’s Bud bullshit, the upper echelon on Sigma Delta Nu delicacies.”

Jesus Christ.

You had caught glimpses of his argument with Steve, complaining about how stupid it would be to pour anything top shelf into a red solo cup — blasphemous really — but you didn’t expect him to do anything more than concede.

"Father of the year, everybody." You clapped just above your head, prompting the remaining company to join you. "I think you're forgetting that I'm not twenty-one."

"First and foremost, I know I am," Tony counters your triumphant grin with a sarcastic one. "Which is how I know that your fake ID says 21."

"Stark, it's fine. I can grab the beer," You thanked God and her impeccable timing once Steve interrupted, settling himself between the two of you with outstretched palms. "I could use the fresh air anyway."

You mimicked Steve's stance, cocking your brows toward your father. "See? Problem solved. Now leave me alone."

Losing interest in the company exponentially, you started to retreat, but groaned once your father's voice pierced the air again. "Nuh-uh-uh, Rogers. Why? So you can go to the nearest GNC and snort a container of protein powder? I don't think so."

You retreat to the furthest recesses of your mind as Tony and Steve bicker back and forth about honesty and friendly competition. Steve wouldn't know how to bump a rail if the U.S Army assembled a thorough, interactive training course on it, and his age quadrupled the life expectancy of most snow-packed socialites. Yet, on the other hand, you were shocked that your father even knew what a GNC was — ultimately, you were riled from your thoughts by an irksome realization.

"Are you fucking- Why can't old man Jenkins do it?" you gestured wildly toward the enhanced super soldier in question, blind to the obvious offense scrawled across his features. You seldom took your opulent lineage for granted, but when situations such as these presented themself, a selfish corner of your mind wondered what it would be like to have a run-of-the mill, cheesy-pun equipped, golf short wearing father. "You'd rather risk your daughter's own safety, and the sanctity of her criminal record, for a stupid game of beer pong?"

Natasha's incredulous laughter chimed between your incessant back and forth, spurred by the uncanny resemblance you and your father shared between every aspect imaginable — your dry wit just so happened to be in the spotlight.

"Yes," He didn't bother to meet your glare, already familiar with its scorching beam against the side of his face "Yes I would."

Hues practically rolled into the back of your skull, exaggerating your every move to a thespian level to make it clear, to even the boniest of heads, that you didn't take pleasure in this task. You were so excited to finally unwind at this event — slam down the sugary mocktail your Uncle Thor always "forgot" to order virgin, dangle your feet over the shallow end of the pool, maybe even shoot a few low jests at Bucky if there wasn't a carnal gleam in his eyes.

Your thrilling plans were now put on hold just to support your father's mid-life crisis.

"I know, I know." He tried to repeat the name of the wine stop n’ shop, only for you to wave him off. He wasn’t wrong — you had been abusing your fake ID in that very stop n’ shop for years, though you’ve recently come to the conclusion that the cashier was far more interested in your chest than your credentials. "If I get arrested, I'm bring you down with me. I'll tell Business Insider that FRIDAY's just one, big elaborate ruse for the underground Fake ID business you have on the side. They'll eat it up like-"

"Love you, honey! I'll venmo you!" He butt in, sending you off with a wave of his fingers.

You flipped him off, shouting an earnest 'I love you' in return. There was no denying that you loved each other, some would even argue that he loved you more than he loved himself — you just chose to show it in your own, eccentric way.

Mere seconds into your newfound task, you stopped dead in your tracks. You could make out that bed of chestnut locks anywhere.

"Parker?" Swiftly surveying his frumpy attire, you struggled to stifle the upward tilt of your lips. Even as he stood uncomfortably before you, visibly seconds away from crawling out of his own skin, he still managed to be the sweet, endearing Peter you knew and loved. "God, I didn't even realize that was you."

You didn't have the heart to tell him that you caught one fleeting glimpse of him at the very beginning of the festivities and thought he was a part of the catering company, nor did you feel a need to disclose the snide remark you whispered into your father's ear about the miserable staff. There was no sense in kicking a dead horse while it was already down.

His gaze weighed heavy against your frame, though, bolstered by an overwhelming intensity that forced you to wonder if he could read your mind. Though, if you could tap into his thoughts, you'd be shocked to find a reflection of your own — bewilderment, adoration, the tell-tale signs of a burgeoning crush, and the myriad of excuses that disputed them.

He could only manage to stumble over his words, complimenting you with sentiments that could never amount to the emotions welling in his chest. "Wow... you look... you look amazing."

And you couldn't argue, not with the way you were pampered hours prior. Mercier had smothered your hair in this honey-infused serum that made your curls bounce to life with each step, and the custom Jacquemus silhouette you were sporting hugged every ample curve enticingly so. You felt like a million bucks, and you probably cost that much give or take, so why deny it?

Peter, on the other hand — Well, he was very lucky that he was so cute, and his jawline could probably cut Vision's infinity stone straight out of his skull. It almost made up for the tragic shape of his suit, and just how tragically out of place it was at this event.

"You look, um-" Softness tugged at the corner of your eyes as they crinkled dotingly. "You look very cute."

"That was a very convincing half-truth." He chuckled, a subtle pink hue blooming over the valleys of his cheeks."

"Oh, so a part of you knows you're cute." You teased, enjoying the way the pink hue grew deeper.

"Oh! Oh, no... No, I mean, kind of? On the scale of confident perspectives, I think-uh-cute... Cute is on the lower end? And you know what? My Aunt May-"

"Peter, you wanna get out of here?" You interrupted him, hoping to save him from all the words he had yet to stumble over. "And then immediately come back?"

"Yeah," He vigorously nodded his head, despite being equally as confused. "Yeah, I'd like that a lot."

"Come," You offered your hand, a small gesture the two of you have woven into your complicated relationship.

You'd tend to straddle a very thin line between friendship and something more, reaping all the warm, tentative affections of newfound lovers without explicitly considering yourselves so. The both of you, for as brilliant as your merits show, continued to convince yourselves that the hand holding, the comfortable silences, the mornings plastered against each other's sides, were simply happenstance. Despite the increasing willingness of each encounter, you'd only ever chalk it up to chance. So when you offered your hand out to him, he took it in stride — because the two of you would indulge in every ounce of attention you could get your hands on, at least until one of you inevitably came to your senses and found someone worth your time.

Your fingers were firmly intertwined as you led him to the roof’s exit, tugging him down the staircase and through the vacant halls of the top floor just in time to catch the elevator. You found no reason to keep his hand hostage once you were inside, so you begrudgingly retracted yours. You swore you could hear a pitiful huff come from his side of the elevator, but you chalked it up to wishful thinking.

Now it was just you and Peter, left to your own devices, and roughly ninety-two floors away from your destination. Just enough time to do what you were aching to do.

“Peter,” You murmured, and his gaze flickered to your own without a moment of hesitation, drenched in a hopeful haze you failed to decipher.

“Y/N?” He echoed, tilting his body toward your own.

“You look...” You paused, unsure of which word accurately portrayed your thoughts. ”insane.”

“I know.” He whined. You tried to stifle the giggle that bubbled at his hopeless demeanor, brows furrowed together as he squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders slumped impossible low.

“It’s a good thing you have such a charitable friend.” And you made light work of his suit jacket, the air suddenly rapt with a thick air of electricity as you worked the offending article off his shoulders, haphazardly tossing it on the ground. Protests formed on the tip of his tongue, but he opted to swallow them in return for your help, going slack when you ran your fingers through his meticulously gelled hair.

Though he embodied the vision of a suave, debonair socialite alarmingly well, with his carefully quaffed locks, nothing suited him as well as the pillowy, fawn tendrils that made up his soft curls. You needed them back, needed a reminder of your sweet, darling boy, and patience was never your strong suit.

You wondered if he was in need of the same reminder, seeing as he’d let you manhandle him without so much as a hum of discontent.

All done. Only a few revisions, and he was a completely different boy. Clad in a crisp, white shirt, sans its horrifying grey counterpart, you rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and unbuttoned the top three discs. The fabric was taut against his impressive set of muscles, leaving little to the imagination with each sweeping roll of his arms. You’d pat yourself on the back, but you were too busy drooling all over your work.

“Is- Is this good?” He broke the silence with a tentative query, peering back at you through his lashes.

"Yeah,” You voice came out strangled at best, distracted by the flurry of butterflies ravaging your stomach. There was something about this moment — maybe it was the glint of tenderness ridding his gaze, or your tight proximity, or maybe it was fate, finally persuading you to topple over that dangerous line — but regardless, you decided it was now or never. “but there's still something missing,"

“My jacket?” He breathlessly queried. His eyes frantically searched your face, like he couldn’t settle on just one feature to admire.

“No, no...” You breathed back, cautiously inching closer, until there was only a sliver of space separating your chests. "You need to loosen up, Parker."

“And what- What do you suggest I do?” His gaze flickered down to your lips shamelessly, and returned just as quickly.

“Do you trust me?”

“I’ve trusted you this far.”

“Good,” You sighed, your breath fanning over his lips before you greedily chased its warmth, kissing him with such feather-light pressure, it almost felt like a dream — a thrilling, delicate dream. You had to tear yourself from his lips before you delved even deeper, hoping to find a mirror image of your relief, your satisfaction, in his own features. However, before your eyes even fluttered open, his palms swept under the curve of your jaw, and coaxed your mouth back to his, instantly qualming any of your fears as you both melted into the exchange. He tasted of spearmint, and cherries, and something so intoxicatingly him that you could barely restrain yourself.

You wanted him, God, did you want him, and for the first time, someone wanted you just as much, without an ounce of greed to it — He wanted you for you.

The remaining seconds of the elevator ride were filled with fervent kisses, and wandering hands, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck while his bunched the silky fabric of your dress. It was all smitten, indulgent brushes of your lips until the elevator dinged, and the doors opened up to reveal the fashionably late, dynamic duo —Sam Wilson and James Buchanan Barnes.

Their expressions were nothing short of priceless, one complexion green while the other ran pale at the sight of your interwoven limbs. You tried to open your mouth before they could comment, but you were far too late, buried in a booming wall of—

"This is a public space! You are defiling a public space!"

"I can't do this— I'm gonna take the stairs."

Their voices weaved into a messy, irritated harmony of disbelief, managing to still complement each other despite their varying levels of urgency.

An idea, a selfish, evil idea, popped into your head, and you enacted it before you could even unravel yourself from Peter’s hold.

"You just reminded me, I was about to text you! My dad needs a couple cases of Yuengling.” You gestured for Peter to press on the “Open Door” button, and by the time he started clicking the prompt, you’d already fetched your wallet, fishing your card out for Sam. “They probably have some at the corner store, but he’ll throw up if he finds out he was drinking alcohol from the corner store, so you’re gonna have to walk down to that market on Seventh.” You could feel Peter’s perplexed gaze gnaw at your shoulder, but you persisted in your impish pursuits, shoving the AmEx into his hand.

“Chop chop, lover boys!” You hastily snapped your fingers in his direction, and yelled just loud enough to make sure Bucky accompanied him, parsing their punishment out evenly.

Served them right, encroaching on such a perfect moment.

Bucky’s groan echoed through the stairwell, followed by a childish stomp of combat boots, and you were pleased enough to shoo Peter’s hand away, pressing the “Close Door” button.

Sometimes it was nice being Tony Stark’s daughter — less backtalk from the sovereign throne of comebackdom.

“I thought you said we were getting out of here.” His brows were pinched together, the most adorable little frown forming between them.

“Oh, we most certainly are,” You replied, pressing the button for your floor. You could tell that the pieces weren’t clicking all the way, and you proceeded to spell it out for him, dropping a chaste kiss to the spot just below his ear. “We’re gonna go to my room. And then we’re gonna go right back to the party when we’re done.”

“When we’re done?” He mused, voice wavering beneath the soft caress of your lips, scattering even more tentative kisses down the column of his neck.

“When we’re done.” You parroted back, meeting his downward gaze through your lashes.”I think you still have some loosening up to do.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x stark!reader #3K ????????????#3?????????#K??????????#IDK HOW I GOT HERE #MOM PICK ME UP IM S C A RED?????#idk i think there's just something about stark!ready x peter parker that just gets me going #mine*

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tigerdrop · 3 years

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in lieu of doing more strenuous hand-based activities heres the Dogboy Gordon In Heat Megamix ive been talking about. i wrote this over the course of a couple months in an effort to feel okay about writing horny shit again and i only just realized there are nearly 6 thousand words here. and they only really fuck for like 10% of that

ta-dah

ive thought a lot about gordon being stuck back at gordonhouse after getting kicked out of barneyhouse. i think its ripe for a lot of pining. (and yes, he is pining over the guy hes actively banging. hes being a big mopey idiot over the fact that he doesnt get to have his fuckbuddy around 24/7.) absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever and gordons already at a baseline of "wheres benrey. wheres benrey"......and now i am about to turn it up to 11

so lets say......gordons starting to feel weirdly under the weather. sweaty and irritable and tired. hes holing himself up in his room a lot, wrapping himself up in blankets to fight off a chill and a sniffliness that wont go away. and hes gettin awfully moody, too. real fuckin testy. starting shit with freemind for no reason and snapping at og gordon like hes a teenager. and......hes nesting, almost, or at least, gathering up a whole bunch of blankets and pillows and anything that smells vaguely like benrey. (hes not really aware hes doing this last thing.)

basically, long story short, feetman is fucked up. hes pathetic. hes being a huge bitch. at least og gordon feels vaguely sorry for him, and expresses this by way of observing him and trying to treat it. for science. its better than freemind, who just loudly complains about him being a huge bitch and reeking up the place. theres something weird coming from vr gordons corner of the house.....a musky, heady, hormonal kind of thing that makes freemind act simultaneously territorial and irritable and more lascivious than normal. and that also piques og gordons attention, because having both of them be wound up little freaks at the same time is enough to make even the most resilient person pull their hair out

now gordon primes got his suspicions as to whats going on, but hes not gonna tell vr gordon that he suspects hes going into heat. that would compromise the experiment, and all that. so poor gordons just going thru all this shit not knowing what in the fuck is wrong with him and getting more worked up and irritable about it by the day. hes convinced that hes just got the flu, or something......except, uh, haha, jesus christ he is horny all the FUCKING TIME

he doesnt get it! he feels like shit all the time, so why is he constantly fighting off boners and having weird wet dreams and thinking about-- well. his fucking boyfriend, he guesses. (are they boyfriends?? he doesnt know. he gets a weird, sharp pang when he thinks about them not being boyfriends, at this point, but its not like theyve ever talked about it!) gordons half-convinced that hes just losing his mind from being stuck inside all the time and he really just wants to see benrey again. its, like, all he thinks about. (see? hes losing it. theres the proof.)

the sucks thing for everybody else is that gordon is also Extremely Vocal about how shitty he feels and how much he wishes he didnt feel shitty so he could go see benrey and how much he cant stand benrey for not being able to read his mind and come over when he feels bad. eventually freemind gets so sick of his shit that he decides to cut out the middleman and get benrey involved directly. "come take care of your fucking dog before i call the aspca! animal neglect is a crime, asshole!"

(if pressed, freemind would adamantly reject the idea that hes being nice to gordon. but on some level, hes kinda sympathetic. the guys clearly miserable, and he just keeps asking for the same fucking thing. might as well humor him to shut him up.)

vr gordon is completely unaware of these machinations, however. hes just holed up in his room trying to work out what makes him feel better because, uhh, powerade isnt helping

jacking off doesnt do a whole lot for him anymore. like, it feels good, but its not very satisfying. gordon just ends up feeling more restless than anything afterward. and hes always stupid horny. more blankets. a box fan. less blankets. sleeping with one of benreys shirts pressed up to his face. grinding into his pillow when he wakes up hard from yet another weird dream. theyre all a little helpful, and he feels like hes working towards the right thing, somehow, but its never really enough to take the edge off

and then.....he tries......jerking off more. especially when he realizes that its bizarrely soothing to do so while he can smell benrey up close and personal on that stupid shirt of his. better still when he rolls onto his side.....and then his stomach.......rocking his hips into the mattress until he gets the idea to lift his hips a little. and......oh. cool. something kind of......clicks. in his head. as he raises his hips higher while he keeps his arms wrapped around a pillow and benreys shirt jammed against his nose. hes got that lil moment of realization that this is good, actually. this feels like a good move. and its making some of that discomfort melt away

and gordon thinks about.....how it felt. earlier. when they were with barmey. and benrey had him just like this, ass up, face down, and was spreading him apart and licking him open and making him submit and he groans so fucking hard that embarassment just rips through him like lightning. but his tail starting to wag a little faster.....electricity shooting through his belly......and he cant help but wonder. what if benrey had kept going? pulled back and-- maybe, replaced his tongue with his fingers, one at a time, curling them inside him and telling him how well hes behaving and-- and his dick throbs, hard, and gordon realizes he wants fingers inside of himself right fucking now, thank you, hes not fully certain how to accomplish it be he is going to fucking try

(sigh) so my guy figures out about the old fingers in the ass trick. and i need you to understand that i am fully convinced that this is one of those guys who has an uproarious reaction to getting fingers in his ass. mr repressed and uptight over here doesnt really get what the big deal is until he gets braver and pushes a little deeper and hes rock hard in an instant, goodbye, just like everybodys favorite creative writing exercise

and this is what he decides to do for a solid day or two without leaving his room, because, honestly, this is awesome. and the longer he spends jerking off the less time he spends stressing about the fact that his imaginations getting really vivid, here. sure, like, hes no stranger to weird dreams even before this, but this is the first time hes really letting his mind run wild and this dude is nonstop thinking about being bred and gordon still has no fucking idea that hes in heat. doesnt even occur to him

unfortunately this also does not solve his problems but at least it feels baller and it keeps him occupied. also, unfortunately, the increased rate of jerking off is causing a serious uptick in Dog Smells, the effect of which is turning freemind into a nightmare. its just not good vibes in this house. enter: benrey

now i need you to understand that when these two meet up again i want gordon to get Emotional. think about how genuinely excited he gets to see some of his pals in canon. the like......excitement and disbelief when benrey shows up outside his window throwing rocks at it before noclipping in. he forgets to even act pissed off at first. i think it would be super fucking cute for him to drop the game for a moment just out of shock, basically. his tails waggin, his ears are perked up, and hed probably tackle benrey to the ground if he wasnt also a sweaty, trembling mess whos been holed up in his room for days.

and benrey has No Fucking Idea what he has walked in on here. as far as benrey knows, freemind just demanded he get over there and take care of his dog.

(INTERLUDE: here is the part where i gin up a freemind POV of this exact scene. b/c i am out of my fucking mind

so. i had the thought of a freemind POV chapter where hes spying on gordon and benrey.....because. gordons in heat. ive talked about that scenario before too (literally so many FUCKING times okay i just need this dude to have the uncontrollable urge to be bred like a little bitch! and for benrey to take pity on him and make him feel better by nutting in him literally as many times as is physically possible!!!)

but i wanna manifest it in this specific way: from an outside perspective. voyeurism is great and also i have a one track mind and basically the only time i traffic in Other Guys in this fandom anymore is as a participant in gordon and benreys horse shit. Im not apologizing for this

lets say.....vr gordons behavior has been getting worse and worse for "unknown reasons" and freeman prime just sees it as a key observational opportunity for his research. while freeminds getting really irritated at how much its cutting into his normal way of life. for one thing, vr gordons room reeks, and he cant even escape it in his own room! and its turning him into a feisty, aggressive, and loud son of a bitch. but he cant even resolve it in his usual fashion at this point (baiting vr gordon into another competition/fuckfest) b/c gordons being a little sadsack holed up in his room and doesnt wanna play

but also.....he kinda just feels bad for the guy at a certain point. hes clearly really miserable and looks downright ill and all hes asking for is to see his boytoy again. (gordons convinced that hes dying, and feels the need to dramatically speak to benrey one last time before he croaks.) so freemind decides, in all his benevolence, to go over gordon primes head and drag the guy over there anyway. (with machinations, not his literal bare hands. what is he, a caveman?) he reasons that itll be a good opportunity to twist gordons arm into groveling at his feet later

and he spies on the two of them in gordons room.....why? idk. possibly something to do with investigating this relationship between a gordon and a barney that he had yet to fully analyze. tl;dr he gets trapped in their closet for a remix of that one barmey voyeurism chapter b/c why the fuck not

i just.....i dont know.....i think theres something really charming about a 3rd party not being able to fully make out what theyre saying or doing but piecing things together anyway.....like benreys weirdly soft tone of voice when hes talking to a super agitated gordon. as far as any of them know, hes not really like that. he either sounds bored or smug, but either way, its usually straight-up antagonistic

it would make freemind bristle to hear it b/c its almost a mocking tone, but.....it makes gordons shoulders drop and gets him to let go of some of that tension and thats probably fascinating to watch. literally soothing him like a stressed out dog, huh. smoothing back his hair and murmuring things in a low, even tone that freeminds enhanced hearing still isnt good enough to make out. (the guy mumbles, okay? he needs a fucking toastmasters meetup.)

it would equal parts horrify and fascinate freemind, in my onion. watching a version of himself fall that hard into the loyal pet role.....its pathetic! for all that gordon goes on about not being a slave to his instinct or whatever, he sure is doing a bad job of acting like it! its like watching himself, but worse.

and benreys having to soothe him like a startled animal b/c he doesnt even know whats wrong with himself, but theres something thick enough on the air that even benrey can smell it, and hes taking some stabs at the dark. especially with how charged some of the shit gordons saying is......"i cant fucking take it anymore", "you smell so good", "i dont know whats wrong with me, man, my dick hasnt gone down for days and im pretty sure i need a doctor-- no, a real one, not the other gor-- NOT a vet, JESUS"

and the whole time.....freeminds peeking from behind a closet door. watching them devolve from outright hostility into "gordon climbing into benreys lap and shoving one of benreys hands up his shirt and demanding that he fucking touch him already"

normally i dont think freemind would be averse to a little bit of voyeurism, here. if it was anybody else, hed probably at least engage in a little heavy petting. but this is getting weird, man. he cant shake the uncanny feeling that this is something too intimate for him to be watching. for one thing, gordons whimpering like a goddamn dog just from a little necking, and for two, hes never really been the kind of guy to watch people make out for 15 minutes before they get to the good stuff

its just kind of unsettling how much these two clearly really, really like each other at this point. its not like watching gordon prime give vr gordon a handjob as part of a "test". freemind expected more of a hatefuck kind of deal out of these two, what with how often gordons normally going on about how much he hates the guy, what a pain in the ass benrey is, how he just wishes benrey would stop jerking him around.....etc. freemind could shit himself right now. that lying bitch!

i imagine its also kind of painful, on a personal level, for him to watch this borderline-sappy shit. he cant even fathom being on the receiving end of that behavior, let alone from......well. theyve all got their barneys, right? and gordon primes basically doomed himself to incel status b/c he wont nut up and do anything about it. freemind just assumed they were all in the same boat: cursed to casual sex with their roommates/clones, forever, and unable to achieve any kind of intimacy b/c all 3 gordons are fucked up in the exact same way. since theyre all just diff flavors of the same fucking guy, right?

well, theres the evidence that hes wrong. and that vr gordons better than him, somehow. thats gotta suck, bro

anyway then he watches vr gordon get railed in the ass a bunch and jerks off anyway b/c its still hot. see ya)

“take care of your dog”. huh. hes got no clue what that means but, yknow, he does kinda miss his dog. hasnt seen gordon in awhile. and he immediately comments "wow. you look fucked up" in as blunt and unsympathetic a way as possible. but gordons so far gone that he cant even work up a good anger about it. he is pretty fucked up, man. and benrey sits on the bed and slaps his forehead with a palm to take his temperature (and that gets gordon to bitch at him, finally, that thats not how you do it, asshole) and judges that, uh, he is hot. in his expert opinion

and thats when gordon kinda grabs his sleeve and tugs it and starts tryin to say something. hes really bad at it, because he is having to perform the mortifying task of Owning Up To It, but eventually he manages to grind out that he needs benrey to touch him, please. just pet him. something. he feels really bad and he just needs benrey to scratch his fucking ears. this is the most gordon can cop to in one go, and it is such a sad struggle to watch, but benreys caught off guard by it and he feels weirdly bad for gordon upon hearing it so hes just like "whoa, okay" when gordon tugs his hand to his head

gordon groans the moment his fingernails start scratching behind the ears and digging into his scalp. even just that much feels really fucking good. its comforting, for one thing, and its benrey, for another, and the physical touch feels so fucking good right now that goosebumps are crawling down his neck. gordon cant help but lean against benrey and bury his head in the crook of his shoulder. he wants to hide his face from scrutiny and he wants to get closer but he doesnt know how to say what his fucking problem is

and benreys weirdly quiet. just kinda mumbling and shushing him intermittently, awkward and not sure what to do b/c this is a level of intimacy he was not expecting but gordons sure is responding nicely to a second hand in his hair

so having both of benreys hands scratching at his scalp is really getting to gordon. hes scritchin behind the ears and gordons tails wagging at a mile a minute. the feelings making goosebumps race down his neck and arms. he starts kind of mumbling something into benreys shoulder, how hes been feeling so fucked up lately, and he squirms a little closer. hes not really aiming for anywhere in particular but every neuron thats firing in him right now is telling him to get closer. make contact. he missed the fucking guy, what can he say.

and one of benreys hands......slips down to gordons face. his jaw. a thumb pushing into that soft little divot between his jaw and neck, like hes trying to push up into gordons fucking teeth. its weird and bizarrely intrusive, but benreys hand is broad and warm and gordon leans into it anyway, groaning with relief. its not like its not doing anything for him. kind of the opposite, actually. then he palms at gordons neck, and gordon starts breathing harder. he can feel his heartbeat rabbit-fast, pushing against benreys skin (and theres no way benrey isnt feeling that, too).

benrey eyes are lidded and his breaths starting to get heavier, too. naturally, yknow, since gordons practically draped over him right now, melting all the more the longer benrey keeps petting him. oxytocin is crazy, man, especially when a guys in the full throes of some kind of chemical meltdown of the glands. gordons eyes are screwed shut, tail thumping furiously against the bed, and hes panting at benreys neck like hes a fucking dog. he just doesnt know how to articulate what the fuck his problem is

benrey smells insanely good to him right now, and gordon just blurts that out. benrey gives him some shit for it, but when gordon only makes a weird noise in response and fists his hands in benreys hoodie, it makes him shut up real quick. hes squeezing out words about feeling like he needs something, but its clearly a fucking effort. its almost pitiful

so. gordons crawled right into benreys lap, too impatient after days and days of feeling like this (you know, being in heat, in so many words). hes been pounding off like crazy, that brand new collar of his strapped to his neck nearly every time b/c hes that desperate to feel… well. *benrey*. he cant fucking jerk off to thoughts of anything else - porn doesnt do it for him, and his fantasies slip right back to the same thing every single time. its frustrating! hes bisexual, for gods sake! its not like hes normally immune to the wiles of the Phat Ass White Girl, but lately he just keeps ending up on his hands and knees and whining benreys name into his pillow and he couldnt focus on a girls rack if he tried

point being. hes being awfully fucking demanding. (and also, hes wearing the collar *right fucking now)*. he shoves benreys hand up his shirt and shivers the moment he makes contact with gordons burning-hot flesh. and hes demanding that benrey touch him already, jesus, hes losing his mind! and benreys just crooning at him, “bossy, huh,” but hes scritching gordons ears and palming at his side and nosing at gordons neck and gordon starts to feel like hes melting into it. his protests at being talked down to are perfunctory at best

benrey licks a stripe up gordons neck and starts muttering his stupid horseshit right in gordons ear and it makes gordon clutch his shoulders so tight, claws digging into the meat of him. benreys kind of into it, though, and it just makes him laugh, low and harsh and right in gordons ear. that just makes gordons problem worse. he lets out quiet, nasal whines on every exhale, like a literal fucking dog.

he starts teasing, like, “haha, you’re *gagging* for it, bro,” but gordon doesnt respond with the defensiveness he expects. instead, its like opening a floodgate - he is, hes fucking *desperate*, okay, his dick hasnt gone down in days and he wants benrey so bad he cant see straight and he cant stop thinking about him and all of this comes tumbling out of him at once. gordons trying to press himself as close to benrey as he can physically get, legs straddling benreys lap and arms clutched tight around his back. and when benrey prods a little more, tells gordon to say what hes been thinkin about, gordon starts to pant, squeezing his eyes shut. but he cant bring himself to do anything more than choke and stutter on the words

hes half-hard in his underwear already (and, lets be be clear, he was only in boxer briefs and a tank top to begin with. hes sweating buckets and its the least amount of clothing he could get away with wearing around the house) and his tails thumping a mile a minute and hes so far gone, just from benrey talking down to him and kissing his neck and scratching his ears. but hes not budging yet, so benrey slides that hand on his ears over to his ponytail and *yanks*. tells him, “speak.” gordons dick twitches rapidly, and he lets out a sharp sound, and he finally says it: he needs benrey to *fuck* him, jesus

benrey lets out a harsh breath at that. “yeah? thats what puppy wants?” and the nickname should blister him, make him feel to embarrassed to continue, but gordons too desperate to care. he just starts spewing a litany of “god yes”s and “please”s. hes getting harder and harder, pressed up against benreys belly, and benrey can *feel* it. “good boy,” he mutters, and those claws dig harder, that panting gets louder and harsher

he slips a hand around to gordons back, rubbing slowly for a moment as if to soothe him, and then slides it under the back of gordons boxers. and lower still. starts rubbing at gordons hole. that gets a quiet “oh god” out of gordon.

gordon cant help himself - he rocks forward against benrey, just a little, rubbing his bulge against what he realizes is benreys *extremely* hard dick in his sweatpants. hes not the only one whos got it bad. but he *is* the only one whispering, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as benrey pushes a little further, makes as if hes about to breach gordon dry. the poor guys so needy that he probably wouldnt even argue!

but benrey just stares at him, wide eyed and flushed, mouth hanging open a little. gordons so hot for this that it surprises the both of them.

anyway after some boring position finagling benrey coaxes gordon onto his hands and knees, running a broad hand down gordons shaking back. and he pulls back gordons tail, exposing him. its so fucking humiliating - gordons got his face buried in a pillow, and his ass in the air, and hes never felt so *vulnerable* before. he wants to argue, he wants to lift his head and look back to make sure that everythings, like, okay back there - benreys staring at his entire asshole, okay, and he wasnt exactly anticipating benrey making a house call to fuck him in the ass - but every time he lifts his head, or starts to say something neurotic about it, benrey chides him about it. clicks his tongue. tells him, “hey. dogs dont talk” or “i said *bow*, bro”.

for all his insisting that hes a real guy, that hes not just a dog, gordons feeling less and less like a human and more like something in thrall to his instincts. the condescension rankles like it always does, but doing what benrey tells him to feels good. feels natural. presenting himself like this feels like what hes *supposed* to do. it doesnt stop him from running his mouth entirely, but it helps to mitigate some of the embarrassment.

and then… benrey *licks*. gordon tenses and gasps. he doesnt know how benrey can stand it, its gotta be, like, unhygienic! but that didnt scare him off the last time they tried this, and its not like gordon hasnt thought about it since. hes thought about it a lot, actually. but hes been too neurotic to ask for it. benreys not stupid, though. hes a good dog owner (at least, so he thinks) and hes gonna take care of his dog. so he licks again, and again, pressing a little harder against gordons hole on each pass with the broad side of his tongue until he dares to breach it with the tip.

gordons rock hard again in an instant. his dick hangs between his legs and drips onto the sheets. he digs his fingers into the pillow now, tearing holes in its surface with those sharp nails of his, and he makes embarrassingly high noises that he muffles into into the pillow, too. hes tense, hes so fucking tense, he should be clamping down and making benreys task really fucking hard, but theres bright pink sweet voice dripping from his hole and benreys rubbing the side of his thigh in an effort to soothe him and both of these things work in tandem to get him to relax. and benrey works his tongue in further, further than a human ought to.

the tip was one thing, but it gets wider as benrey pushes it in, and its just as good as it was before - better, even, because now its just the two of them, just a master and his dog, and benreys the only one he wants to see him like this. bent over and whimpering. he cant— he cant stomach the thought of anybody else doing this to him. hell, there was a point once where the idea of stomaching *benrey* doing this to him would have made him laugh. but here he is. benreys fucking him open with his tongue and pressing against something thats making him see stars and gordon just wants *more*. he says it so sweet, too, voice growing hoarse and raw as he begs benrey to just fucking do it already, he doesnt wanna come like this!

gordon gets so worked up and emotional about it that benrey takes the time to scratch behind his ears again, shushing him and telling him to chill. benreys got him. hes been a good dog, and good dogs get treats. hearing the words “good dog” makes gordons entire body flush. thats all he wants, really. he wants to be a good dog. he wants to be *told*. he blurts out, “oh my god— say it again,” and benreys like, “huh? say what? youre gonna have to be more specific,” clicking the last syllable. it makes all the hairs on gordons head rise and prickle with shame. the best he can do is mumble it into his pillow.

benrey hears it, though, and tugs at gordons collar from behind, just enough to raise his head. “whassat? you want me to call you a good boy?” gordon cant bring himself to answer that directly, but his stupid body betrays him by making him whine. jesus christ, yes, thats all he WANTS! he needs benrey to be good and nice to him for once in his fucking life and give him what he wants instead of taking, taking, taking! but benrey just tells him that hes gonna have to earn it. gonna have to be *real* good for him. gordon could fucking snarl at that, but benreys pulling back to rub his dick between gordons cheeks and against his hole and that shuts him up pretty fast because hes *so close* to getting what he wants and hes not about to fuck it up now by running his big dumb mouth

and then… he starts to push in. that sweet voice has loosened gordon up enough to take even benrey, who, uh, is definitely the bigger of the two, in that regard. he goes slow, uncharacteristically so, and gordons chest heaves with the force of how hard hes breathing. a quiet string of “oh god”s spills out of him as he tries to crane his neck back to watch. the head breaches him with a strange popping sensation, and benrey groans, loud, as the rest of him slides in with little resistance in comparison. “good,” he pants in turn, “youre takin it so good,” and—

and gordon comes, in weak, aborted spurts. it snuck up on him. he clenches so fucking tightly that it winds benrey a little. he breathes out, “whoa. did you—” but gordon just begs him to shut up, keep going, hes not— hes not done yet, its always like this, its not *enough*. his dick barely even flags afterward, it just hangs there, achingly hard and dripping with cum. benrey cant even find it in himself to make fun of him. he wants it so fucking bad, doesnt he? and he feels so good, so fucking tight and slick around benrey that the only thought running through his head is “gotta take care of my dog gotta fuck my best friend gotta nut in him and make him howl”. so he pushes himself alllll the way in until theyre pressed together, skin to skin.

then he starts to move. slow, careful thrusts, more for benreys benefit than gordons. if hes not careful, hes gonna blow his load, right then and there, and hes trying to make it good for gordon, too, okay? unlike *some* of them, hes not gonna bust in two minutes and then spend the next half hour crying and trauma-dumping to the guy hes still got his dick inside of.

once he thinks hes got a grip, though, benrey starts fucking him in earnest, and that changes gordons vocalizations from weak little whimpers into something louder. less restrained. hes given up any pretense of being quiet so that his other selves dont hear that hes snuck his boytoy into his room. just loud, wordless moans on each thrust, initially muffled into the pillow but soon spilling into the wider room when he turns his head to catch his breath. the only words hes managing are “oh god” and “please” and “benrey, benrey, *benrey*”, and benrey just responds to him like, “yeah? thats good? fuuuck, bro, so good for me,” all short of breath and barely able to speak himself

he wants to see gordons face. he *needs* to see gordons face. needs to see what hes doing to him, needs to see that cute fuckin blush of his. so he tugs on gordons collar again, bringing him to his hands and knees properly instead of that bowing position. and then further still - pulls him back so that benreys on his knees, and gordons on his knees in turn, on his lap, cock still buried inside of him and fucking him in short, hurried thrusts. “paws up,” benrey tells him, and gordon does it. instantly. no resistance. just folds them at his chest like a real dog would.

“whos a good boy?” benrey croons, right in his ear again. gordon gasps, “i-i am!”

“yeah? youre a good boy?” nod, wail. “whose— whose good boy are you?”

and gordon chokes on his response. he cant say it, he *cant*, he doesnt want to be benreys but he does, he *does*. he doesnt want to be benreys because its not fucking fair! he cares so fucking much! so much more than benrey does, it feels like, obsessing over the guy like hes wrapped thorny vines all around gordons heart and he cant so much as shift in his seat without feeling the tug and the ache and thinking of benrey again. and benrey doesnt care, he never fucking cares, except—

except he showed up at gordons house, in his room. without even being asked. like he knew something was wrong. and he— hes always talking to gordon, shooting him stupid texts just to make him laugh. scheduling *date nights* for them. date nights where, yeah, maybe they couldnt see each other in person, and maybe they always end in some kind of depraved sexual act, but its not like gordons not into it. hes frighteningly into it, actually. and hes *so* into hearing benreys voice, low and crooning, right in his ear, and seeing him lean on an elbow and smile at him afterward. its— its practically genuine. and benreys always making excuses to talk with him, do things with him, watch stupid fucking movies that only gordon cares about and stream with him on twitch to help boost his subscriber count and—

and—

oh god. maybe he *does* care. that might be more terrifying than the alternative.

then benrey yanks the collar again. presses the whole of gordons back against his front in one hot, unbroken line. and asks, “i said, whose good boy are you, bro? *speak.*”

“benrey,” he blurts out, a ragged moan, “d-dont make me sa-AY it, oh god—”

“no?” benrey stills suddenly. his hands keep gordon stuck in place, unable to move or bounce or feel benrey shift inside of him. “thats, uh… thats too bad, friend. this trains for good boys only. good dogs go to heaven 2. no bad dogs allowed. gonna have to, uhh, escort you off—”

“im not a bad dog!”

“i dunno, gordo. bein’ kind of, uh… disobedient.”

(sorry. thats all i got . byeeee)

#this is so far from finished b/c A) im a coward now and B) typing qith my left hand sucks so i dont wanna do it right now. Sorry #writin stuff

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