#she’s a traumatised teenager with a gun
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Tired of Nancy being written as the cool and collected one. I want her to go ape shit. Just try to rip someone to shreds with her bare hands. Steve and Jonathan both barely being able to hold her back from putting someone in the ground in the most gruesome way possible.
#‘Nancy’s the only one with a braince-‘ *gunshot noises*#she’s a traumatised teenager with a gun#i think she deserves to fuckin lose it as a treat
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ASKING FOR IT !
ft. og4 leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. p in v, smut, cheating (not on reader), ooc leon sorry, he’s mean, negging, misogyny, reference to past rape/non-con, unresolved trauma, suicidal thoughts duhhh, he calls reader ugly a lot, leon subs for his gf but doms reader, non-con to consensual sex, manipulation, some .. uh waterboarding? he dunks your head in water, opioid addiction but it’s minor LMFAOO
note. haii… um feedback whether it’s good or bad appreciated really forced myself to write this so im like ack. hating everything i write but! ignore typos :3 it’s not as fleshed out as i wanted .. soooo it reads pretty jolty but yah 😭 and the smut is like not. IDK I’m ugh not into it just couldn’t bring myself to extend stuff that I really wanted to develop n he’s ooc. BUT!! again ignore typos or I’ll cry n feedback/constructive criticism appreciated <3
Leon has a girlfriend. He can never hold down a girl, his ability to scare women away is preternatural, so it’s a big deal. And she’s fucking hot. Not like model hot, but pornstar hot. She’s got tits so firm they might as well be bulletproof. Bottle blonde with eyes that swallow up her whole face. Her stomach doesn’t crease when she sits. It’s the type of beauty that takes its form in slashes of red lace and nylon. Not many women are out of his league, but she is.
They have hot sex like attractive people tend to do, and it goes something along the lines of this.
He goes:
Is that dick good, baby? You like it? Right there, baby?
And she goes:
Fuck, yes, baby! Harder, deeper— Oh, right there!
And then she doesn’t cum.
So there’s that, but he’s working on it.
Leon doesn’t take well to tips on how to fuck. Reading advice columns in the Men’s Health magazine leaves a funny taste in his mouth. It might be the blood from the castrated image of his masculinity. Who knows.
He struggles with that sort of thing. A nice face does nothing for a man who doesn’t actually like anything about himself. Leon’s still that wimpy self-hating loser he was all those years ago. In all fairness to God, there are a few added tweaks here and there. Some bug fixes. Now he’s drunk and shallow too! Misanthropic when he’s at his very best.
As a kid, mom told Leon to be a nice boy so he was a nice boy. Not because he was ever a particularly nice boy, but for her sake. So instead of acting out he would go and crush ants beneath his thumb in the front yard because there is this mean part of Leon that splinters inside of him like cooked bones.
Life to Leon is being fucked into apologising for being alive so it’s no wonder he’s still harbouring the insecurities of a boy he isn't.
When he was eighteen it was by ugly old men who abhorred him for being the embodiment of whatever it was they were hiding from their wives. His legs looked nice thrown over a pair of big shoulders. They were so thin back then, model-type shit. All of those men mildly resembled his dad, but that’s something he wouldn’t quite like to crack down on yet. Leon’s being open enough as it is.
When he was twenty-one it was his headache of a first girlfriend. It was the bullet wound in his shoulder. When he was twenty-two it was being passed around boot camp like a dirty needle. When he was twenty-seven it was Luis who was nothing and everything in between. It was a picture book princess like Ashley. The scar on his shoulder. Stigmata. Glory Be. Whatever.
(And Jack, it was always Jack. Pale all over like a healed scar.)
What Leon is trying to get across, he’s not quite sure. Maybe that he's nice in theory and the reality is he’s a self-confessed charlatan of niceness. Or that he can’t fuck. He can’t fuck because he is deeply traumatised. Yeah. Maybe that’s what he’s trying to say. It’s an excuse, sure, doesn’t make it the truth though. Leon can’t fuck ‘cause he’s useless at most things that don’t include guns. He can’t fuck ‘cause he was unattractive as a teenager and that solidified the way he feels about himself now.
Leon’s got one thing going for him - he fingers her pussy till his fingers prune. Eats her out till he gets lockjaw.
“Oh, you’re so good at that,” she says, kissing his slicked-up lips.
Then her eyes flit to his hard dick and she gives him that strange half-smile. One that seems to say: Not with that. His dick. Obviously.
His shit is big enough, it’s long enough— It’s enough. And it’s pretty. Could put a bow on to make it real cute. Could manufacture a dildo inspired by it. So Leon cannot for the life of him wrap his head around her problem. It’s not his dicks fault her pussy is fucking broken. Her broken pussy doesn’t get to make his dick sad. Doesn’t get to lay devastating blows on his gone-with-the-wind ego.
Another thing is, her sister is an ugly bitch. That upsets Leon and his dick in tow. You’re a student, taking a break for some reason Leon has not bothered to fathom. He couldn’t care less. Go do it someplace else. In this house, you’re nothing more than a cockblock. Leon could forgive you for being a cockblock if you weren’t ugly. Or vice versa.
It would be okay if Leon wasn’t stuck at home with you for hours at a time. Work fucked up his back, so he’s staying here in his girlfriend’s apartment eating her food, running her taps, fucking her badly and shitting on her sister.
You’re sat on the other end of the table with a soggy bowl of cereal while he nurses a juice box like a real man. What do ugly little things like you think about anyway?
When Leon was ugly he thought about forcing his dick into the cute girl next door between his more regular thoughts of what to eat for dinner and whether he stocked up on toilet paper or not.
When he was ugly, his day was made simply by a pretty girl looking in his general direction. So Leon makes sure to look in yours. Y’know, to fuel your perverted wet dreams. Your rape fantasies. What freaks think about when they’re near hot guys. Well, it’s strange actually. You tend to totally ignore him. When the two of you make brief eye contact, you don’t flounder or duck or bow your head like you’re shy— You just move on with your life. That bothers him. Leon’s hot now. He’s not the type of man you just brush over like that. He’s the type you gawk at in broad daylight, he’s the sort of guy you see in soft porn magazines.
“Good morning,” his girlfriend greets, “have a good sleep, sweetie?” She bumps your hip when you stand up to hug her.
She’s wearing stockings today. Oh, he loves stockings. He loves pencil skirts. He loves— He loves office wear. He wants to be put over her lap and spanked raw perhaps.
“Yeah, it’d be nice if your boyfriend stopped moaning like a girl though.” It’s said into her ear, but Leon hears it.
“I’m going now, honey,” his girlfriend tells him.
Like a good boy, Leon stands to bid her goodbye. Her blouse is sheer, shows off her black bra and he eyes it with distaste.
“What’s wrong, Leon?”
He doesn’t speak. Just glares at her perfect set of tits like a baby weaned off milk.
“I can’t take them off,” she snorts.
Leon wishes she could. Hang ‘em up in the closet and pop them back on when it’s time to play. Tits are for the bedroom. Otherwise, they’re too much of a distraction. Instead, he settles on slipping his hand up her skirt to check if she’s wearing panties. (There’s no panty line showing through her pencil skirt and that’s always a bad sign.) She shoos him away.
So Leon leans in for a kiss, and she says, “Nuh-uh, honey, you’ll ruin my makeup.” Then she gives in ‘cause Leon can be kinda cute when he tries hard enough. “Just one, okay?”
“Yeah.” Leon nods. Her kisses are analgesic. Which is unfortunate considering he has an opioid addiction. Almost an addiction.
“One,” she counts, Leon kisses her again, “two, three, four.”
She’s teasing him now.
“Okay, well, keep an eye on her, Leon.”
“I’m not twelve,” you say, exiting the kitchen to spare yourself the sight of him groping your older sister.
Yeah, and Leon’s not a bang nanny.
He wipes the red from his lips, takes his juice box from the table where you’re no longer and decides jerking off in the shower will make him feel better. Leon does. He finishes. Watches his seed wash down the drain and wonders if that was wasteful. A short intermission is taken, then he jerks off in front of her full-body mirror. His biceps flex and his abs tighten, and he looks fucking good.
Why isn’t she cumming? What’s wrong with her? Is she getting too old? Is menopause hitting already? She’s only thirty-something. It can’t be that, and she asked Leon to pick up tampons last week— Unless they were for you.
Nobody in this house tells Leon anything. Another shower is what he needs. No, he needs a smoke. Leon doesn’t smoke. He does the next best thing, rests idly against the railings of her balcony, observing the ballet of D.C. life. Man, he could throw himself over right now. Splat against the asphalt and that would be it. It’d all be over. Hauling his weight over would be no problem. Catastrophizing to pass the time. Men used to do this for a living in Ancient Greece. What happened to philosophising? Leon could be a philosopher, all they did was spout nonsense and he is good at that. Not at fucking, however.
Beer. Yeah. Beer. That’s what he needs. Leon ransacks the fridge to no avail. Health-conscious living is the reason for misery, he believes. See, very insightful, modern-day Socrates right here. Lean proteins, vegan substitutes, low-fat yoghurt— It’s so girly it makes him sick.
“She’s still on a health kick,” you say from behind him, “I thought it was a New Years thing, but she’s still, like, super into it.”
Why are you talking to him? Leon blinks at you owlishly. “Right,” he says.
You give him a funny look, turning back to the counter to use the coffee machine. Don’t you want him? You’re not shy. Why aren’t you shy? Shouldn’t you be shy? Ugly Leon was mute around girls whether they were short, fat, ugly or pretty. Shit, he is clucking for a beer.
“There's Chardonnay under the sink.” Well, that’s unhelpful.
“Yeah, I don’t- I don’t drink that.” He would like to finish his sentence off with ‘girly shit’ but you seem like the type to find that offensive.
“Figured.” The coffee machine whirs. A lobotomised silence ensues. “Good talk.”
You’re so ugly you’re asking for it. Perfect subject for the ‘I can’t make my girlfriend cum, is her pussy broken?’ experiment. Ugly girls don’t count as a fuck, right? Not when they’re sent to the very back of your mind after said fuck. He wonders how many girls counted the uglier him as an official lay.
You’re on your tummy reading a book. The Beautiful and Damned. Leon had no idea they wrote a book about him. The door creaking exposes his creeping against his will.
“Do you need something?” you ask without batting an eye.
The swell of your ass is nice. “Uh, yeah, I do.”
Rolling over and sitting up to face him, you tilt your head to the side. “Go on.”
“I want to have sex with you.” Woah. Okay. That’s a genie he can’t put back in the bottle. Fuck, why does he do this stupid shit? Leon should just kill himself. All roads lead to suicide. Every sign points towards suicide and he is still holding on for dear life.
Think about Sherry. Sherry won’t care, kids hit sixteen and don’t give a fuck about much, he reasons with the voice in his head. How about Claire? Oh, she’ll think good fucking riddance. Redfield? No way. You are truly out of options, Kennedy.
“I’m sorry?”
Oh, god no, Leon’s the one that should be sorry. “You heard me.” The apology comes out incredibly wrong. “I’m helping you out.”
“Helping me out with what? I’m sorry, Leon, I didn’t… I didn’t think I— I don’t know what made you think I wanted this from you, but I don’t like you—“
You don’t like him? Why not? He’d like a list of reasons with a page-long explanation. What’s not to like? The hair. It’s the hair. Blond is too girly. That’s what it is.
“—I mean, you’re with my sister, did you really think I would say yes? I’m sorry, I’m just a little confused, where is this coming from? Gosh, I really… I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m helping you out,” Leon repeats, using his hands to gesture at your face, at your body. “No one else is gonna do it.” This apology has gone way out of bounds. A simple sorry would have sufficed.
“What..?” Something doleful crosses your face, then it twists unpleasantly. “You think I want to have sex with you… ‘cause I’m not cute? Like, you think I’m…”
Ugly, yes. He does. Only a little. Can you turn over? He wants to make you cum. “You’re a virgin, yeah?”
“Oh my god, there’s, like, something wrong with you!” You stand to your full height in a pitiful attempt to appear frightening. That face is enough to scare a man away already. “Get out— And I am so telling her when she gets back home, I told her I didn’t like you, I told her and now you just-“
Leon grabs you by the jaw, squeezes you so tight it clicks. “Okay, sweetheart, here’s how this is going to go,” he starts, taking both your wrists in a single hand, “we’re going to start over, and you’re going to be a good little girl and apologise to me like you really mean it.”
“Apologise for what?” It comes out muffled through your forced pout so he chooses to ignore you.
“I don’t know what you fuckin’ said.” Leon should just end it here, he should let go of you and check into the nearest asylum. He’s hot. Leon is box blond. He’s tall enough to dwarf most girls. His face is nice. His body is nicer. So he doesn’t know what his problem is. Once pinned down, you shrink away from him, expression so sour your skin looks ready to melt off your skull.
And then he fucks you till you stop screaming. He leaves you in a withered heap, heads back to his room to take a well-deserved nap, hides his face in the pillows. They smell like her. He should think about killing himself some more. That gun looks awfully shiny. Nth time could be the charm.
She gets home in the evening, drops her bag on the floor to alert him of her entrance.
“I missed you.” Leon noses at her neck.
“You were sleeping.” She ruffles his hair like he’s a child.
“I still missed you.”
“Even when you’re sleeping?”
In the least creepy way possible, he wants to wear her skin as a suit, and she thinks his body doesn’t yearn for her at every sleeping second?
“The most when I’m sleeping, have bad dreams without you,” Leon mumbles groggily.
“How cute,” she muses, “good day?”
“Great day.” Leon nods. “Real productive.”
“Oh yeah? What’d you get up to?” A singular red nail strokes along his spine.
“Thought about you,” he answers, leaving out the part where he spent half of his time jerking off. Oh, and the part where he fucked her sister into submission. He raped you. He did. Leon doesn’t like that word. Far too harsh.
“Now, don’t push it, mister.” When she smiles there’s a lack of wrinkles— Not even smile lines, it’s artificial almost.
Leon’s good at pushing buttons. He should get paid for it. “It’s true, if you said jump I’d ask how high.”
“You’re so funny, Leon.” She kisses his head and laughs all prim and proper.
“Serious, babe, I’m super partial to jumping,” he says to hear her laugh again. He’s more partial to suicide. It’s great. A one-way ticket off of God’s green inferno. Who would he even be without suicide ideation?
“Alright, but I’d like you all in one piece.” She kisses his cheek. “No jumping, okay, honey?” She kisses his neck and his collarbones and his Adam’s apple and he’s unable to breathe.
“Okay,” Leon says. He gets it now. She’s mommying him. Maybe this is what Leon needs. To play house. A daddy to fuck his throat and a mommy to sit on his dick and tell him that he’s a good boy and he’s needed and he won’t have to think if he has a mommy and daddy to do that for him.
Can he backtrack on the rape thing? Trust Leon to take a good thing and ruin it in the worst way possible. If he kissed you he could’ve wormed his way out of it. Told her it was the medication he’s on, that he had a mental breakdown, a midlife crisis.
At dinner, your silence slips under the radar like cumstains on motel bedsheets. You pick at your food, and when Leon’s knee brushes yours under the table, you excuse yourself. Sometimes he thinks that he is a bad person, this can be backed up by many things. Violating you might outweigh saving the world.
In bed, he thinks about changing, about calling his therapist in the morning, he might take a leap off that balcony, cleaning up his act sounds terribly hard. Leon does this all with his head tucked into the hollow of his girlfriend’s neck. The thinking has killed his boner and now he can’t get it up. So he pretends to fall asleep. It’s an unconvincing performance ‘cause the moment she swipes a hand over his ass he lets out a disgruntled noise. Leon clenches so quickly his stomach caves in.
“You don’t like that, honey?”
He shakes his head, overgrown bangs falling in his eyes. Leon has a nice ass. It’s no wonder she wants to touch it, leg presses have done him wonders, but still, it’s off-limits. She can’t sweet talk her way into this anytime soon.
“Why, Leon?” She’s cupping his ass like he’s a girl. Leon’s not a girl. “You’d look so cute.”
“No,” he whines, and it sounds kind of sexy. He gets it. He can see the appeal.
“I think you just need some encouragement, baby.” She’s taking him apart like a gun. Folding him like laundry. Milks his prostate so well he sleeps like a baby. Not even a shadow of an orgasm to be seen from her side.
She leaves early the next morning and he’s left alone to ruminate. What he finds out today is that you’re pretty diligent at sucking dick when forced.
Leon thinks he would like to break you in a way that only he can fix.
He pushes your head down on his dick till your lips are stretched so far they split at the corners, you gag wetly each time the fat tip knocks the back of your throat, heavy balls slapping against your chin.
“Aww, look at you,” Leon coos, “little girl taking big things.”
Fat tears well in your eyes, a faint tremor betrays your effort to hold them back, a single blink and they roll down your cheeks like dewdrops. It might be the dick lodged in your throat, pulsing under your tongue— Yeah, no, it’s his dick in your mouth. That’s why you're upset. No other reason for it. Leon finds you a little ungrateful. A lot of women would pay for this, to drain his balls. Hell, your sister loves to do it.
“One at a time, sweetheart,” he says as he guides you to his balls, “can’t have you choking, can we?” You look up at him blankly. Leon thought he was funny and that’s all that matters. “Go on, spit on ‘em, get me nice and wet.” The drool pooling beneath your tongue drizzles his balls in clear strings, his drippy tip bumps the bridge of your nose, rests comfy on your brow ridge.
You’re struggling real bad. He’ll take it as a compliment. The thing is, you refuse to just lick them, pulling off each ball with a wet pop! and a dry cough. Leon starts to zone out so he shoves you off and quite pathetically, you fall flat on your back.
“You didn’t shave,” Leon notes in distaste, he was going to do you a favour too.
“No— Not for you.” You squirm like a fish on the docks when he hovers over you.
“Not for me, right.”
“Anyone but you.”
“You're not gonna do it for anyone, sweetheart, know why?” Leon clicks his tongue when you dodge his kiss, twisting your neck to keep a distance.
“Why?”
“No one else wants you,” he states, “you’re lucky that I want you.”
“Well, that’s not true.” You’re stubborn amongst all your other undesirable traits.
Leon scoffs. “What, so you ever had a boyfriend?” He runs his index finger along your slit. Bone dry. Serious? He assumes you’re still sore from yesterday.
“That’s none of your fucking business.”
“Don’t get mad at me, honey, I’m just helping you out.” Leon spits on your pussy, then on his thick cock for good measure, jerks his shaft and presses a thumb to his tip to guide it into you. Your lips fold inwards around him as he breaches your tiny hole. There’s too much resistance for it to be a smooth sailing journey, and you’re new to cock, cunt pushing him out as your body tenses. “I’m being nice to you, so you should say thank you.”
“Oh, god,” you mutter, brows knit in what might be pain or pleasure.
“Yeah, that’s what you’re calling me now?” The look you give him is priceless, small hands settling on his chest as you push at him weakly. “No, baby, you don’t get to do that.” Leon bottoms out, he rolls his hips forward to grind the head of his dick into your cervix, the fleshly opening moulds to his tip and you cry out. He can never tell if you’re enjoying it.
Leon sticks his fingers in your mouth to coat them in spit, you retch and he rubs figure eights on your clit, only then does your cunt loosen up its hold on him. It’s a quick process, the quicker he rubs you raw, the wetter you get, biting down on your tongue to keep quiet, but low groans slip past your cracked lips.
“Oh, there we go, baby, that’s it,” Leon coos, his cock slicked up by your wet pussy, sliding in and out with ease. His hips snap forward, forcing himself deeper into your messy little pussy, so wet you’re dripping down his balls, wetness stuck to your inner thighs.
“Fuck— I can’t, I can’t do it, ‘s too big,” you whimper, a hand slipping between your bodies to lay on your stomach. What you don’t understand is that he is big, yeah, but your pussy just needs to be broken in. Like a new pair of shoes.
“You’re doing it, baby,” Leon says, ‘cause you are doing it. You’re taking it. Body going rigid with each brutal thrust into your sopping wet hole. Whether you can take it or not isn’t for you to decide anyway. “I’m going to stuff your little pussy full,” he tells you.
“No,” you choke out, scratching at his chest, nails too blunt to do any sort of damage. Thank fuck. His girlfriend would go nuts.
It’s a satisfying victory, he covers your mouth to concentrate all his energy into this creampie, fills you to the brim, seed thick enough to stick to your insides. The original aim of his ‘experiment’ is forgotten, Leon doesn’t care if you cum or cry or pass out on his dick.
“I’m tellin’ her when she comes home.” Your threat is weak. He feared the consequences of yesterday, but you said nothing.
“You’re not telling her, you like me too much,” Leon decides, “I know you do, baby.”
“I don’t like you at all.” Your bottom lip trembles, fists balled up by your sides. The contempt only turns him on.
“No, but I think you know I’m right, don’t you?” No one else wants you, and you know that. Leon knows you know that. He’s the only one that is ever going to fuck you.
“Right about what? You’re a fucking psycho— I could get you locked up, I should get you locked up.”
“You should, so what're you waiting for?” If you did report him, Leon would just kill himself, going to prison sounds like a bore. “I think, sweetheart, that secretly, you really like it when I rape you.”
And your silence proves him right.
That report never comes. Duh. You love his dick. You like being roughed up. You know you’re deserving of it. Jesus Christ, Leon needs to call his shrink. Honestly, being around you is hard. It’s like his guilty conscience has developed a human body, shambling around the apartment in the shape of a malformed ghost girl, reminding him of the shit he’s said and done to you. You’re spinning in his necrosed brain like one of those music box ballerinas.
“Leon, be a doll and do me up,” his girlfriend is facing away from him, the smooth skin of her back and shoulders bared to him.
Leon only hears the ‘do me’ part, kissing the nape of her neck, reaching round to grab at her fat tits. “I love you…”
“I love you too, baby, but what do you think you’re doing?”
Leon makes a motion with his fingers, she sees it in the mirror.
“What is that, sign language?”
“No, I want to finger you.”
“Oh, well, that’s lovely, baby, but it’s not the time for that. I asked you to zip me up, Leon.” He zips her up while wondering how she can be so unaffected by him being so stupid.
“Hey, are you ready to go?” You knock on the door, you keep hiding your face from him today. His girlfriend said it’s ‘cause you have makeup on. Apparently that changes things. It’s sort of cute. Like, are you shy? You should be shy.
“Oh, no one likes cliffhangers, honey,” she says, forcing you to swap out some open-toe sandals for a pair of her heels. “Okay, Leon, I’ve left your dinner in the fridge, yes?”
Yes, mommy. “Yeah, babe.”
“And there’s snacks in the cupboard now, oh, and don’t use the tap water, it tastes strange so I stocked up— Leon, will you stop doing that with your jaw?”
Sorry, mommy. “Sorry, babe.”
“He’s totally fucking gurning,” you inform her in a way that screams playground snitch. He’ll choke you out for that.
“Gurning, what’s that?” His girlfriend asks cluelessly. This bitch is in her early thirties, Leon has no idea why she acts fifty. Whatever, it’s hot, he gets a girl with all the traits of an older lady without the sagging.
“Like, y’know, ‘cause he’s on meds.” What a little shit. Is this you getting back at him? Some petty fucking act of revenge? Getting his medication taken away from him by his health freak girlfriend?
“Medication? I didn’t know about this, Leon.” She looks at him like he’s killed her mother. Or raped her sister. If only she knew.
“Yeah, for my back, my back hurts, babe— Th-That’s why I’m on leave. My back hurts.” What a compelling act. Totally not a dude that’s two minutes away from injecting black tar heroin.
“Who prescribed them, a doctor or a vet?” You cock your head to the side. Fine. You fucking got him.
“Same thing.” Leon shrugs.
She makes him empty the bedside desk of pills. “Leon, good boys don’t do this. We don’t take drugs in this household, let me take them off your hands.”
“They’re- Babe, they’re not drugs, they’re for my back— I hurt my back.” Granted, his back stopped aching a few days back, he’s just taking advantage of the break. Also, he’s not a child.
“Your back, honey, I know it hurts.” She waves him off. “We can fix it, huh? I can book you in for acupuncture or cupping— Oh, what about a chiropractor?”
“Fine,” Leon says, voice cracking, watching in devastation as she takes his pills in a black garbage bag.
“Bye, Leon, see you later, honey.” She blows him a kiss and he catches it. He has to catch it.
“Yeah, bye, Leon!” You wave at him, looking happier than you have in days.
The door opens an hour later and Leon takes his hand out of his pants. You stand in front of him with red eyes and messy makeup. Leon, being the gentleman he is, takes you into his arms and rubs your back to soothe you as he tells you, more than a little cruel, I fucking told you so.
At least now you know that some guys aren’t as nice as Leon. Some men will spit in your face without considering how tight your pussy is, they won’t even think about how good your tits look in that push-up bra. See? That’s what the real world is like.
The bath fills as he bends you over the sofa. You’re prettier from behind, dress hiked up, soaked panties around your ankles. His hand smooths down the front of your stomach to cup your puffy cunt, prodding at your swollen clit. You shaved. Funny. Thought you were going to get a dick that wasn’t his.
Leon kneels, he spreads your ass cheeks to lick into your pussy from behind, tongue lapping up the beads of arousal that dribble down the seam of your cunt like sticky honey. He laps at your hole and you arch your back to push into him, his tongue fucking your pussy so well, sloppy sounds fill his ears.
“Been wanting to do this,” Leon says into your cunt, tongue making its way back up the centrefold of your fat pussy, he blows spit bubbles on your clit and then he nips at it until you cry out, startled by the jolt of pain. His dick kicks in his sweats. You taste good to make up for that face of yours.
You cream in his mouth so sweetly, toes curling against the wooden floor. Leon wipes his mouth on his forearm, then he wraps it around your neck, pulling your body flush to his. In his chest, his heart flutters when you press a delicate kiss to his bicep. He feels it and you can’t unfeel that.
“I’m sorry, Leon,” you get out through shaky moans as he sandwiches his shaft between your chubby pussy lips, bumping the tip into your clit as his hips move back and forth. “I’m sorry… Didn’t know-“
“It’s okay, baby.” He kisses behind your ear. “It’s alright ‘cause you know now, huh?”
“Yeah,” you agree tearfully, tilting your head so it rests on his broad chest, he gives your pout some wet kisses.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm, baby?” Leon nudges you with his nose.
Your idea of cleaning up might be far from what Leon’s is. He doesn’t think you were expecting something so extreme. But it’s for thinking you’re worth something— For thinking that anyone else would do as little as touch you. It’s to wash off that pitiful attempt at makeup.
He bends you in half over the tub. Your tits hang low enough to be squashed against the edge painfully as Leon dunks your head into lukewarm water. Holy shit. Tomorrow will be the day he overdoses. Why is he doing this?
A strangled noise passes your lips as he lets up, and you re-emerge, Leon wipes a hand over your face to rid you of the streaky mascara and sticky gloss.
“There we go, sweetheart, nice and clean.” He presses the tip into your leaking cunt, it catches on your hole, and you flail, water spilling over the edge, surface tension broken as it ripples.
Honest to god, Leon hasn’t fucked a pussy tighter than yours, and when he holds you beneath the surface? Man, you might deglove his dick. He works his cock into you, and when he’s balls deep in your sloppy cunt, Leon allows you to lift your head to which you pant and gasp and cough. All the shit a drowning person does when they’re tossed a lifesaver.
Your body sags, hanging limp with only Leon to hold you up as he roughly fucks in and out of your poor hole, heavy balls slapping against your skin.
“I love you, Leon,” you tell him, rubbing at your stinging nose with your fist, pussy tightening when he pinches your throbbing clit.
“Aw, do you, baby? You love me?” Leon laughs, the mean smile on his face hidden in your shoulder, “That’s so cute.” He rocks back and forth, shallow thrusts that are more for him than they are for you, rabbiting his dick into your squelching pussy until his balls pulse and his shaft twitches inside of you. “Real— Real fuckin’ cute,” he grits out as he buries himself to the hilt, shooting his load in your willing little pussy.
“I think so,” you whimper, thighs trembling as the knot in your stomach snaps and you coat his cock in your slick. Hey, his dick isn't a problem then.
Leon thinks about calling his shrink. The bad shit he does won’t fix itself like he wants. “Clean up,” he tells you, looking at the wet ground. The soaked rug. Your face.
“What… Leon, where are you going?” You use your palms to mop the excess water from your face. “Seriously, Leon? I just… I told you that…”
He has things to do - Leon’s going to call his shrink and very promptly throw himself over the balcony when she doesn’t answer his call.
#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy angst#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x you#leon s kennedy angst#leon s kennedy smut#resident evil x you#resident evil angst#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut
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robin and nancy have a short-lived fling before they go off to college. the thing is— it’s too fresh for both of them. robin wakes up screaming for steve and triggers nancy’s own panic. nancy can’t bear to lose someone else she loves so has moments of turning cold. they leave for college, and gradually they lose contact.
nancy goes to boston, to emerson, follows her dreams of journalism. she goes alone. she tries to lose herself in college parties, and it doesn’t work at first, but it gets easier and easier with time. she finds herself feeling happy again for the first time in years. she feels safe.
robin goes to california, to stanford. steve moves with her, and eddie with him, so the three of them get an apartment together. despite robin juggling a double-major and a part time job, she can finally breathe again.
a couple of years later, long since they’ve both graduated, robin and nancy bump into each other again. they’ve changed a lot: nancy’s hair is short, cut to her chin, no longer permed, and she has several tattoos on her arms. robin’s hair is longer, tied up in a loose bun, and she’s more tanned than nancy remembers. nancy isn’t a journalist, to robin’s surprise. no, nancy found her joy in creative writing instead, at mike’s recommendation. she’s working on a young adult series about a group of teenager— part time mystery solvers, part time monster hunters.
“like scooby doo,” robin jokes, and nancy hides a smile.
“like us,” she says, and then pauses. “are we— were we mystery inc?”
“oh, you were absolutely velma,” robin says. “if velma had guns, anyway.”
“velma should’ve been given a gun,” nancy agrees, and this time she grins.
nancy finds out that robin’s an english teacher, now. she still lives with steve and eddie, although they have a house together now, no longer a small apartment. they have a cat, and a garden, and they’re all happy there. happier than they ever thought they could be.
it’s been years since they left hawkins, since they stopped talking, but they fall easily back into conversation. like they never left. they exchange numbers and promise to keep in touch. this time, they stick to it. this time, they fall for each other, slowly but surely. they’re not the traumatised teenagers they used to be. they’ve lived, and they’ve grown, and they’ve found themselves.
nancy wheeler kisses robin buckley for the first time in years in the rain, outside her own apartment, when they’re both soaked to the bone and shivering. then she kisses her again in her hallway, and again on the stairs, and again in her bedroom. she remembers the parts she’s missed, and learns the parts that are new. they do this again, and again, and again.
when robin wakes up screaming, nancy holds her, murmuring soft assurances. when nancy freezes up, robin takes her hand and squeezes it, grounding her.
for a second time, nancy wheeler and robin buckley fall in love.
this time, it works out for them.
#stranger things#ronance#steddie#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#steve harrington#eddie munson#fruity four#my writing#(crossposted on my twitter)
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French TV is just amazing. I don't own a TV so I only watch it when I'm at other people's place and the news channels are simply phenomenal. We're told a 16 years old guy was killed by the police again (and the police didn't call for an ambulance it's a neighbour who did -10 minutes later- because some kids came to tell him what had happened) so the journalist asks a police union representative to give us his opinion which is of course that if you try to run from the police you should expect to be killed. In other news today Marion Marechal Le Pen is campaigning to revive her nazi party because she wants to "protect her daughters from the anti-police riots and the illegal immigrants who rape french women". Think the journalists are going to address this quote? Nope. Then the journalists discuss the inflation in France and how the prices are so high that french people are struggling to feed themselves (in one of the richest country on earth). A journalist gives us a simple solution: we need to be more responsible and stop buying expensive food. Merde alors! Hadn't thought of that. This way the brands that increase their prices will lose money and stop doing so. Duh! Anyway back to the most pressing matter nationwide right now and for the last decades: should muslim teenage girls be allowed an education if they wear a veil? Survey says... non, apparently. A girl was expelled for wearing what she claims to be an opened black kimono but really is an outrageous religious symbol that threatens our great nation's secularism.
Wow. Not only did she deserve to be expelled but it's definitely worth talking about all day on the news. I'm traumatised just looking at this picture. Of course the great debate is back: how can we stop those provocative muslim girls who are obviously on their way towards islamic radicalisation and terrorism from trying to bypass secularist laws by claiming to be wearing some sort of kimono when really we all know it's just a facade and what they really mean to do is scream allah akbar with a machine gun in their hands? The journalists quickly ask a law professor who explains unironically that this outfit is illegal in much the same way that muslim girls who wear long skirts because they can't wear a hijab are illegal. Almost as if it's not about displaying your religion but belonging to a religion instead. Almost as if girls are forced to show their bodies to men. If I ever doubted selling my TV years ago here is the reminder as to why I did.
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<What's going on?!>
Why should you vote for these characters?
Why should you vote for Wirt? (1)
#His confidence can be really low but he’s trying his best. he’s a poet. he’s a teenage boy. he looks like a wizard but he plays clarinet.
Why should you vote for Vash? (2)
"look at him. look at him! he is extremely silly at all times (og anime especially and specifically)! He walked into a stakeout without realizing, despite being shot at, because he had his earbuds on! He's crabwalked away from bullets! Two of his besties are an insurance team specifically watching out for him! He rarely ever takes any threat of death towards himself seriously, but if an enemy gets hurt he's like "oh no you okay?" because he's silly like that. He's kind and respectful to everyone including women (except in the movie screw the movie) and people actively trying to kill him! He looks goofy /pos. He IS goofy /pos. My friend did not get me sucked into these animes (and manga) for me not to recommend him for this list!!! Ty for reading my Ted Talk lmao sorry"
"he's a babygirl. he's a wanted criminal. he's traumatised. he's got pretty eyes. he's a pacifist in a world trying very hard to kill him. he's the greatest marksman who ever lived. he's full of so much love. he's god's most unfortunate creature. he's a little fruity"
Why should you vote for Jesse Faden? (1)
"she became the director of a secret government branch so secret the government doesnt know about it. while being director she also became an assistant to a janitor. she has a gun that can turn into other guns. her best friend is an entity from another dimension. she talks to plants. she can throw rocks at things. she makes fun of her bosses which are in the gun sometimes. shes such a fun player character"
Why should you vote for Dante? (-)
"they/them exclusive swag. they have amnesia. they're a part of a group called the "sinners", and they are in charge despite not being able to fight and also because they have amnesia. they can revive those people specifically from the dead but feel all the pain they go through at the Same Time, and they are the only people that can understand the.
is "hey lets not do violence" and then someone insulted them, so they immediately sicced the sinners onto those random people. "lets kill and be killed". actually trying to be a better boss
they are so incredibly lame. #nonbinarywrongs. they can also understand chicken talk."
they are paired up with dante because 1) red 2) have very important star symbols in-game 3) i love them both 4) they're both in charge of other people in their games, but jesse can run more people AND is a good director, while dante .. is trying. i love them both so much
#poll2023#tournament poll#wirt otgw#over the garden wall#trigun#vash the stampede#dante lcb#limbus company#jesse faden#control remedy#control 2019#control game#if u use he/him for dante i am exploding u btw.#wirt looks so confused#despite the fact that dante is right next to people w guns (vash+jesse) they are probably the most okay with murder. i think theyre funny
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Insomniac thoughts about consistency of characterisation pre- and post-Resurrection, surfacing mid-morning because I couldn’t cope with the post editor in the iOS app at a quarter to three… *ahem*
My impression is that Jod and most of his OG duplicitous sluts were in their thirties, up to fortyish, at the time it was all going down. Old enough for some of them to have multiple tertiary degrees and be leaders in their fields; not quite older adults yet. In HtN Augustine tells us Pyrrha (the “stone-cold fox”) was ten years his senior, so probably in her late forties or fiftyish. In NtN:
I didn't have to worry about the public or the media — we had a pet cop, P—. She'd made detective by that point; was going on to big things in the MoD. Knew G— from way back, and G– and I were both hometown boys, so P– kept the heat down for us.
Later on Jod reiterates that he and G— grew up on the same street.
We also hear that P— “adored being a cop”.
This is of course off-putting for a lot of readers. But I understand that the New Zealand police, while by no means a squad of saints, are not abusive and murderous on the same level as the American kind we may be more familiar with (e.g. they don’t normally carry guns). So I’m fairly sure what we’ve got here is a character who might actually have been a good cop, in a country in which that concept is not implausible beyond belief — who then, crucially, turns her back on the law (and on her own successful career) to protect the kids from her neighbourhood. Because that was what it was about for her all along.
I don’t think the Dad Pyrrha we love to see is separable from Cop Pyrrha. I think in each life she lives her priority is to look after and protect her people, and she does that in specifically masculine-coded, paternal-coded ways. The Pyrrha we get in NtN is — as with the other Lyctors we know, charming Augustine becoming a man of plex, reproductive justice advocate Mercymorn stealing semen, dutiful Gideon obeying even the command to launch multiple violent murder attempts against a tiny traumatised teenager — someone whose best qualities have been worn out and warped by too many centuries of Jod’s unliving, undying empire. But, perhaps because Pyrrha was awake and aware for less time than the rest, that kind of love does palpably linger on in her.
Pyrrha practically stumbled away — she dropped to her knees before the chair and Palamedes — she reached out and took Palamedes's hand, and then Camilla's. Her face and hands showed only dumb despair.
"I've loved you two," she said. "Not well. Not even wholesomely. I don't have it in me. But I've loved you — in a better world I'd be able to say, 'Like you were my own,' but I don't know what that would even mean anymore. You've been my agents ... you've been stand-ins for something I haven't had for longer than either of you can understand."
You can feel it every time she bribes Nona into eating, or carries her when her legs fail, or buys a birthday present and hides it away under the sink for the big day. (And when she looks at her lover's daughter with that mute hunger to have been a parent to her, too.) It’s a feature of the system Jod designed, that Lyctors don’t get much of a chance to love anyone but him. His hands, his gestures… raised by him, bound to him, renamed by him… God must be able to touch all of creation... He’s the epitome of the kind of parent who can’t imagine or allow their child to have an existence apart from their own, who’d rather stunt them than let them grow. He claimed Kiriona as his child, but he also made her his construct. And we know what he did to Alecto. But six months with Pyrrha (and the Sixth, likewise good at modeling love) and Nona just blossoms. The betrayed soul of a murdered planet has learnt anger management techniques — and now she’s learning to dance.
It seems as though at every step of Pyrrha’s story (and, just to confirm, I shall be going on a bloody rampage if we don't get the missing pieces in AtN) she knows she can’t save everyone and get everything right. Sometimes she can't save anyone at all. She has often been a casualty of her devotion. But she keeps on and on still trying, also like the Sixth, to make the best and kindest and truest choices she can in this myriadic shit sandwich. And she never stops loving the people she loves. Wouldn't know how to.
In conclusion… since I should probably conclude something… let's see. Whatever she thinks of herself, Pyrrha’s a good dad. Her accidental agents are lucky to have had those six months with her. It's not ‘playing’ house if the love there is real. And you can’t take ‘loved’ away.
#the locked tomb#nona the ninth#pyrrha dve#big dve energy#and yes I had a dream about her#and no I won't tell you#gideon the first#augustine the first#alecto the first#NONA#ntn spoilers#nona spoilers#nona the ninth spoilers#acid jail for john#is my carthago delenda est
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Reasons I dislike Nancy Wheeler:
1) She just feels super two dimensional to me ngl. Even without taking a look at her character arc and actions, she kinda just.. exists for me
2) her whole personality can basically be summarised as: Independent woman who likes boys and guns. Yes I can and will look further into that if wanted in another post.
3) She is so condescending? Like all the time! Her opinion is the only valid one apparantly and everyone else is below her. Examples of this include: her treatment of Robin, her treatment of the kids, her treatment of Fred and many more.
4) She insults literally everyone. S1 begins with her insulting Steve's intelligence (which i have a lot of issues regarding not just for Nancy but all of the shows characters and I will follow up on this). S4 she insults Fred, a literal child following her guidance, for having differing opinions, IN THE 80S!! as people like to say when defending the shows harsher aspects.
5) her character literally never develops. S1 she began investigating Barbs death and never stopped. Held her feminist ideals *THAT I AM NOT AGAINST FTR*. Got given a gun and boys. And that was it for her. Every single season for her goes the exact same: Something bad happens, Nancy investigates, people doubt her and laugh, gets given a speech to carry on, is proven right, shoots the bad guy.
6) Does not seem to overly care about anyone else? S1 she did not GAF about anything going on unless it affected her. Will went missing? gosh Mike stop acting childish. Barb goes missing? Why is the world so unfair! Nobody is listening to me!
7) Like, she was only really investigating for her own career? In s3 and 4 in the least. She may have posed it to everyone else that she cared about the odd events, but she just wanted to be the first to get the good story. Like talking to Wayne Munson in the beginning and trying to invoke sympathy for her plight. It was just.. Not It for me.
8) she is selfish. Like i get she is a teenager, and teenagers are selfish, but... I would not like her irl unlike the other characters. Not one bit. She is always in everything for herself and she refuses to out herself in other peoples shoes for even a second. Mike is distraught over Will? Lets go have sex with Steve and argue with Mike. Steve wants to pretend a literal TRAUMATISING event didnt happen because he is also, a literal child? Nah he is bullshit. Jonathan decided not to fly down from California, despite literally being poor and having siblings to look after whilst pulling away from a ldr? Nothing she did there was wrong obvs.
9) the way she treats her partners is so horrible. Lets recap. S1- is dating Steve. Okay, so she lies to him about what she is doing with someone who TOOK PICTURES of HIS house without consent. Does not include him, her boyfriend, in her thoughts, and leaves him with the impression she is cheating on him. S2- still dating Steve. Lied to him for a whole year about her thoughts on their relationship. Gets drunk and calls him and their relationship bullshit while implying he is a murderer for something that is not his fault. Acts like it is not her fault when confronting him the next day. Proceeds to fuck off with Jonathan and have sex with him before even ending the relationship properly, and that is after insisting that there will never be anything between the two of you. S3 she just absolutely does not listen to a word Jonathan says and does what she wants whilst expecting him to drop everything for her and follow her around. S4 she puts the blame of their failing relationship on Jonathan and flirts with Steve.
10) she is really entitled. She is like the definition of a spoiled. She is handed things that she wants on a silver platter and is applauded when she gets it? Like she comes from what looks to be a upper lower/ middle class family in a nice meighbourhood with two parents, wanting for nothing, and does not seem to understand when people do not have the same constraints as her. Like she is okay to drop her job at the change of a hat but others actually need the money to survive? It is canon that Jonathan worked A LOT to help pay bills, and babysat Will, and she just, did not understand.
11) she gets applauded for doing the bare minimum. She showed up to help Eddie purely for the inside scoop and because she would look bad otherwise, and is HCed to be his new bestie? She tells Jason to fuck off? Shoots Vecna AFTER it has been set on fire? Like Hopper BEHEADS a whole ass demogorgon after being tortured and starved in Russia, but gets so little recognition.
12) literally risks getting her friends and family locked up/killed by the US government, for her guilt over killing Barb, and the want of a good story to publish. Like they were willing to shoot a shit ton of people for a child abusing lab who had no ides there was a child abusing lab *cough cough Benny*, and shoot a bunch of 11 year olds. They would have had no qualms about getting rid of them all!
13) literally abandons Mike, her BROTHER to go with her fresh BF at the end of s2! She was definitely not needed there, in fact she would have been more useful at the house with Steve and the kids, but nope.
14) Doesnt have a good relationship with her mother for what? Her caring? Like Karen Wheeler has her faults (Billy. Thats enough said) but noone can say she does not care about her kids. And Nancy just takes that for granted. This one is a personal slight, because a parent that offers up good advice, support and genuinely cares? That would be the life!
I am going to stop myself here, because I could probably go on for hours ranting. If you want to discuss any of this with me feel free to drop mw a message or something! No hate though please! I respect everyones opinions and will gladly take part in RESPECTFUL debate about any of this!
#stranger things#stranger things 4 spoilers#nancy wheeler#anti nancy wheeler#anti nancy#anti stancy#anti jancy#anti ronance
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ltb gang
how do the blus hold hands if that's needed? answers for both adult-adult situations and adult-child situations (like leading a kid they've been trusted with)
Mundy interlocks his fingers with Jesse. With small kids he offers them his little finger. With older kids it's two fingers (trigger and middle). Teenagers he'd probably trust enough to not wander off, but if needed they get a stern grip of the wrist. If they need reassurance he'd hold their hand normally with thumbs interlocked. He only ever holds hand with his left because his gun hand (right) always needs to be empty.
Jesse interlocks fingers with Mundy. She rubs his knuckles with her thumb. With very small kids she holds their hand in hers, with older kids she'll offer her fingers to hold onto or her hand if theirs is long enough to hold hers fully. Teenagers she fully trusts not to run off (to her own detriment). If a teen needs reassurance she'll hold their hand the same way Mundy does. Jesse prefers holding with her right hand because she's right-handed.
BONUS ROUND!
Suki doesn't hold hands at all. At the most she'll rest her hand in Bruce's and let him hold onto it, and that's only in private where no one will see. She'll shake hands and does it very delicately, but she doesn't hold hands. Do not trust Suki with your children. Unattended children will be brought into the infirmary to assist in organ harvesting and be returned traumatised.
Charles only holds hands the way Mundy holds the hands of teenagers. His grip is looser than he'd like it to be (due to nerve damage, he can't close his right hand fully) and he only uses his right hand since his left is his gun hand. Very small children are offered either his trigger and middle finger or his ring finger and little finger. You're not allowed to just hold onto his little finger because Jesse did that as a baby and it makes him sad.
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This is the Kyle fic I promised to write for @lindziscool. It’s another angst fic because I’m (weirdly) enjoying writing those right now, and it focuses on the relationship between Andy and Kyle. It includes this headcanon that I have where Andy gets really vivid nightmares due to his trauma and regresses to his childhood slightly when he wakes up. I hope you like it, this was an interesting one to write :).
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Kyle was almost in a state of deep sleep. It had been a long day, a long year even, so she was looking forward to a peaceful night of rest after so long. In such a short amount of time, she’d lost her ear, she’d seen the monster that had stolen what little innocence she had left get exorcised and she’d finally had closure after so many years.
But Kyle had been so wrapped up in her relief at this nightmare finally being over that for a brief moment, she forgot that she’d only encountered the demon doll a few times. Her brother on the other hand…
The scream startled her awake, and Kyle immediately grabbed her gun from the bedside table and ran into Andy’s room. He was sobbing, pleading for help. But he was calling for his mother. Poor Andy, he’d been so traumatised by his experiences with Chucky that when he was gripped by nightmares like this he momentarily reverted to a childlike state. Kyle would place him at about six at this second. He’d return to himself when he woke up, but at this moment he was writhing and screaming with terror.
“Mom! Get him away, he’s scaring me!”
This had happened many times before, but it never got less heartbreaking. Shaking him awake would only scare him, he might punch her again, like the last time she’d made the mistake of looming over him. All Kyle could do was try and offer him comfort and hope that he’d wake up on his own.
“Andy- Andy, it’s me, it’s Kyle. You’re safe, he’s not here, you need to wake up buddy.”
After a few moments, his eyes opened. He looked like a cornered animal, wild and frantic. He nearly tried to run, but Kyle kept a gentle but firm grip on his shoulder. Andy’s eyes flashed with a sense of recognition, not returning to his full adult self, but perhaps to the age of about seven or eight, maybe even nine. The therapist had said that it was likely that Andy reverted back to his childhood during these moments because he was so traumatised that it was difficult to remain in the present.
Kyle’s brother (not just foster brother, he was much closer than that) calmed down and managed to look her in the eye.
“Kyle? Where are we? Where’s Phil and Joanne? Are they awake now, did I wake them up? Wait, why are we sleeping, Chucky’s still out there, we gotta go, we gotta-‘
So, Kyle’s bunch had been correct. Andy thought they were still kids. Part of her wanted to angrily remind him that he was in his thirties, but the rational side of her knew that this situation had to be handled carefully so that he didn’t freak out. So Kyle smiled, trying her best to channel her teenage self.
“They’re on a date, kid. They’re not gonna be back for a few hours, I’m in charge right now. And don’t worry about Chucky, he’s been taken care of for now.”
Andy looked so confused. A small part of him was clearly in the present and knew that this was a load of bullshit. But he was still mostly convinced that he was a child living in terror due to a supernaturally possessed doll. This could have been something that happened, Phil and Joanne had been planning a date before they’d been killed. Tonight was the night that could have been, so he bought it. But not the Chucky part.
“Chucky’s been chasing me for a long time Kyle, he wants to kill me, we gotta do something cause I’m scared he’s gonna hurt more people.”
All Kyle could do was shake her head and gently shush him when he started to panic again. This nightmare must have been a bad one. If she knew what he’d dreamt about, maybe she could help?
“Don’t worry about that bastard right now. Hey, that dream you were having when I walked in seemed pretty scary, care to share?”
Andy shook his head, trying desperately not to sob. He couldn’t speak, he could barely move. Kyle knew it was about Chucky, his nightmares were never about anything else. But what exactly was he remembering? It broke her heart to see him so distressed, she could never relate to the exact things he had experienced. He had been so young, he’d lost his childhood to Charles Lee Ray and Tiffany Valentine. Kyle had at least been a teenager, she got to be a kid for a few years. Andy didn’t get that opportunity.
“Was it about him? Chucky?”
Andy bit his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut, barely managing to prevent tears. Bingo.
“He-he was k-killing me. I was watching him burn in the fireplace and then- then… It felt so real, and I was screaming and screaming. But nobody came. Mom wasn’t there, the doctors said she was insane and took her away. I was all alone, and he was laughing at me. Said that I was weak and that I deserved it because I couldn’t defend myself.”
This was a particularly bad one. Kyle’s nightmares were never this graphic, but Andy was messed up on a fundamental level, he’d never be sane again. All she could do was calm him down and promise him that Chucky would never hurt him again.
“Andy, we killed Chucky, don’t you remember? Yeah, we blew up the doll and then we… burned down the whole factory, right? We exorcised him when he tried to come back, he’s never ever coming back again. You’re a hero, you saved us, and so many other potential victims. It’s safe to go to sleep now, goodnight.”
This calmed him down, and finally, he went to sleep. Kyle tucked him back in and adjusted his pillow before leaving the room to go to sleep.
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The next morning, Kyle was brewing a coffee in the kitchen when Andy entered the room and sat down next to her, smiling awkwardly. This was one of the rare times where he remembered what had happened, he always felt embarrassed the morning after those times.
“Hey, thanks for calming me down last night, you didn’t have to do that.”
Kyle grinned and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, offering him a slice of toast she’d made a few minutes earlier.
“Andy, you’re my brother, it’s no trouble. I don’t mind helping you out when you start spiralling.”
Andy chuckled, biting into his toast.
“So, now that he’s dead, what are we gonna do with our lives?”
There was only one response Kyle could have for that question.
“Andy, I have no idea.”
#chucky#childs play#chucky series#childs play 2#childs play 3#bride of chucky#curse of chucky#cult of chucky#charles lee ray#tiffany valentine#chiffany#karen barclay#andy barclay#kyle#angst with a happy ending#horror#fanfiction#request#headcanon
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Something I can't stop thinking about and a lot of people may disagree with;
VERONICA WAS JUST AS BAD FOR JD AS HE WAS FOR HER
In the following rant, I will only be talking about the musical, not the film.
I see a lot of Heathers fans talking about what a sweet baby Veronica was and how she got caught up in something she never wanted to be a part of. And that is wrong.
At the beginning of the musical, before Veronica meets/starts dating JD, we see Veronica looking admiringly at the Heathers. She acknowledges their cruelty ("She is a mythic bitch") while also wishing to be one of them. Even in the midst of a song about how she wishes the world could be kinder, she admits that she would also choose the easier, crueller route if only she thought she could. After her (willing!) transformation into a Heather, we see her almost immediately begin to neglect her only actual friend, Martha ( "Dear Diary: It’s been 3 weeks since I became friends with the Heathers." "I’m really sorry that I flaked on you last week."). It is also before meeting JD that Veronica tricks Martha with the Ram Note. Despite not wanting to at first, we see her being quite quickly/easily persuaded. It's also worth noting that she makes no attempt to help Martha between giving her the note and seeing her at the party. Even then, she didn't stop Martha from talking to Ram, though she did tell her to leave the party when the Heathers borough out the Martha-Piñata.
In the middle of Veronica's morality crisis comes JD, an abused traumatised teenager with an addiction to guns, explosions and slushies. At first, JD seems pretty set on getting through high school relatively quietly, since he believes his dad will force him to move away soon, so there's no point in making friends/getting involved. He only beats up Kurt and Ram after ignoring them doesn't work, and actively tells Veronica not to go through with the Ram Note. He quickly becomes dependent on Veronica, who he imprints on almost like a duckling does, on the first person to show him kindness. At this point, he essentially becomes a loaded weapon for Veronica to point and shoot. He sees her being upset and he does what he thinks is right to protect her. While he does have his flaws (mainly lying to Veronica about Heather, Kurt and Ram's deaths), it's important to remember that he grew up in a violent house and associates certain types of violence with love. I also think seeing Veronica (someone he loves) being hurt/abused will've brought back feelings of anger and helplessness from seeing his mother abused. There's a chance her suicide left him with a literal "kill or be killed" mentality. It's also possible the knowledge that he couldn't help his mother led him to be more extreme in his protection of Veronica than he otherwise might've been.
After Kurt and Ram's deaths, Veronica asks JD to stop being violent, AND HE DOES. I think this is something very important that a lot of people ignore/overlook. Violence/murder is a legitimate addiction for JD, and he mentions in Freeze Your Brain that his addictions help with self-harming and even suicidal thoughts and feelings ("When the voice in your head, Says you're better off dead, Don't open a vein! Just freeze your brain...") And yet, when Veronica asks him to, he stops cold turkey. Unfortunately, going completely cold turkey is always very difficult, and JD begins carrying a gun again. We only see it when he's at home with his Dad, who we can see earlier makes him uncomfortable/unsafe (depending on how the actor plays it). It's possible, though stretching a bit, that JD was only carrying at home because of the lack of safety with his dad. However, Veronica leaves him as soon as she sees that he's struggling.
To summarize, she forced someone with untreated trauma and a long history of homicidal/suicidal urges to quit an addiction cold turkey and then left when he began struggling with staying sober. Again, I'm not saying that JD was blameless, or that Veronica should've been responsible for her boyfriend's mental health when she was struggling with her own, but there were better ways to approach the situation and it feels a lot like Veronica used JD and left him. He was completely dependent on her, and I believe both of them knew that. At the very least, JD seemed to fully acknowledge the way he "needs" her (": I was meant to be yours! We were meant to be one! I can’t make it alone! Finish what we’ve begun!") Veronica, however, isn't dependent on JD in the same way. She, knowingly or unknowingly, uses JD. She even admits "I wanted someone strong who could protect me", then immediately turn the blame on him, claiming her "infected" her. At any rate, this is when JD goes full homicidal maniac. It also says a lot about Veronica that she does not attempt to inform any teachers, local law enforcement or her parents about what was going on. While I admit her parents probably wouldn't believe her, a teacher would easily be able to check the boiler room to confirm/disprove Veronica's accusations, and police/fire would definitely take a bomb threat seriously, especially from a school that had three student suicides in the past few months. I'm not sure whether she was banking on JD's dependence on her to prevent him from hurting her or if she was worried her involvement in the previous suicides would be uncovered, but neither is a good enough reason not to have the school evacuate the way a teacher/emergency services would be able to.
All in all, JD and Veronica were both flawed people and they amplified negative qualities in each other. It's not fair to treat either of them as blameless or perfect when most of the plot of Heathers wouldn't've happened if they hadn't met and brought the worst out in each other. The End.
#heathers#sorry for the rant#veronica sawyer#jason dean#long post#wow this wasn't supposed to be so long#tw addiction#tw death mention#tw suidice#just any triggers you can think of for heathers#tw abuse#tw toxic relationship#feel free to let me know if you disagree#i love a good debate
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The Truth Saga Character Introduction: Lydia Rachel Moore
Primary feature: Reckless Truth (#1)
Role: POV Character
Born: 23rd October 1997
Pronouns: she/her
Sexuality: Bisexual
Notes:
Gun-for-hire
Youngest of three siblings
Victim of parentification as the only girl in her family
Photography hobbyist
High-school dropout
Dyslexic
Suffers with explosive anger and self-destructive tendencies
Great with kids, terrible with self-care
Biography:
Lydia was only a baby when she lost her mother and brother, and so she never knew the violence that tore them from her. She grew up believing they were killed in a car crash, and for a time that answer was enough -- but not for long. There was turmoil in the family. Her remaining brother, Elyan, was traumatised and jumpy; babbling about conspiracies and stolen people. The only stability Lydia had was her father and when he was so wrapped up in taking care of Ely, she was left to her own thoughts.
Elyan was prodigal, the eldest and smartest in the family -- and now he was getting the attention and love Lydia desperately needed herself. As her teenage years came around, she fell into despair and hopelessness, directionless and confused by the family's seemingly constant turmoil and tension.
As the end of high school loomed, Lydia was alcoholic and suicidal. When her father found her bleeding out on the bathroom floor, she learned the truth of her lost family.
Finding out the truth about her mother's death and Josh's disappearence gave Lydia a new fire for life, and as she recovered from her injuries she was approached by a figure. That figure offered her a chance to start over; to earn enough money to travel and find her brother. She took it, and became a mercenary, travelling from job to job searching for clues for her lost brother.
Over time, Elyan discovered what his sister was doing. Knowing she was actively searching for Josh he went with her; leaving home and following Lydia across the globe in search of some kind of lead as to where Josh might have been taken.
(Click here to be added to the taglist)
#;truth#writing#mine#original character#character backstory#character introduction#character intro#character moodboard#lgbtqia+ representation#representation#bisexual characters#character aesthetic#original work#original novel#original story#writeblr#authblr#authors on tumblr#authors of tumblr#new author#writers on tumblr#writers of tumblr#urban fantasy#new adult#young adult#;lydia aes#;lydia
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She-Hulk should have been way buffer, I agree. Marvel are cowards for not allowing her to be, I also agree. But I can't agree with people calling her less monstrous appearance or her fabulous hair as compared to the Hulk a flaw. That's the point. Bruce Banner, abused and traumatised child, turns into a big angry smashy brute with the mind of a toddler when he hulks out. Betty Ross, the long time love interest who spent years suffering and growing resentful in silence as her life is swept up in the wake of the Hulk's chaos, mutates into a terrifying bloodthirsty creature from hell when she hulks out. The transformation mechanic reveals what was always there. Hence Jennifer Walters an emotionally repressed noodle lacking in self esteem morphs into the hyperconfident, tall, handsome, free spirited She-Hulk.
Obviously there's more nuanced disucssions to be had (and that people have been having for decades) about the character vis a vis empowerment versus objectification and I'm not gonna lie and say a big part of the reason she looks the way she does isn't because she was originally drawn to pander to horny teenaged boys (because this is the comics industry), but a lot of the takes I've seen thus far which amount to people just seeing she's smaller and less ugly than the Hulk and calling it sexism are to me the equivalent of seeing a contextless picture of Wonder Woman and saying "eww, her outfit shows so much leg! In the male gaze bin for you!"
Seriously though Marvel, give Jen bigger guns. Maybe buy some workout equipment with all that money you're not paying your VFX artists.
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Shatter Me - Tahereh Mafi
3¼ ⭐
CW: SA and stuff that could maybe be triggering if you have an ED
I feel kind of unsure how to rate this. Essentially, the story itself didn't do much for me, but I found it really compelling - I wanted to keep reading it and I was a bit disappointed to come to the end.
I love the writing style. I think it does very well at bringing the reader into the chaos and intensity of Juliette's mind as a traumatised, terrified teenager, and the writing becomes more or less frantic with her emotions. Oddly, there is a note at the start of the book explaining this narrative technique, which I can't blame the writer for because it's just as, if not more, likely to have been the publisher's idea. Bit of a shame, though - like explaining the punchline to a joke. Nonetheless, I think that's what drew me in to the narrative: the way that Juliette's feelings are expressed is lovely and makes her feel more human.
The romance with Adam was okay. I think it's a bit weird that he found out he could touch her unharmed because he was caressing her in her sleep when she was having nightmares, but his feelings for her come off as sincere. I think she genuinely loves him but sometimes I couldn't help but think that surely, affection from nearly anyone will feel amazing and that could make her think she's in love even if she isn't. I mean, you only have to look at her weirdly conflicting emotions towards War Criminal Warner to see that.
Ah, yes, War Criminal Warner. He's a pervert and a pathetic nepotism baby and likes to kill people for fun. He turns up to be emotionally abusive and sexually inappropriate towards Juliette, intending on grooming her into his weapon/consort. She inexplicably still thinks he's hot. Sometimes, it feels like this book is resisting the urge to become Baby's First Dark Romance and go down his route. Towards the end, when she and Adam have escaped and later get caught, Warner has found out he can also touch her without being hurt, and so starts being even more handsy than usual. She spots a gun in his inside coat pocket and decides to go with it despite her discomfort just long enough to get the gun and shoot him, which is a bit of a girlboss move. So he's making out with her and picking her up by the arse and all this and she starts off being "ew yucky nasty Warner, this isn't my One and Only True Love Adam" and then thinks "…actually, I'm kinda into this". What??? I know that sort of thing is a trope in dark romance as a genre, but that is one of the reasons I do not read dark romance. The whole "this is sexual assault but actually I like it" thing is just gross to me. If you're into it as a fantasy and within the constrains of fiction, I can't stop you, but it's not my cup of tea at all. Although I see how Adam can be viewed as a bit bland (he is), Warner is, like, bland with a bit of black pepper. I have a soft spot for pathetic men and for crazy sadistic characters, albeit typically not in romance, but he's just not very sexy about it. He's just a bit sad, to me. I don't care if his eyes are light green or whatever.
Juliette is incredibly horny in general. It's kind of funny sometimes. She'll experience the most traumatising shit you can think of and then Adam will touch her arms and she'll be like "oh YEAH babey". To be fair, though, she is the most touch-starved person of all time, so maybe that's not that weird.
This isn't a criticism, but a thing I noticed that I found strange. So, Juliette has been given maybe one small meal a day for the best part of a year, and presumably must be terribly underweight and look like she's on death's door. Even after eating normally for a couple of weeks, she's probably not looking exactly healthy. That's whatever in itself, that's just the nature of being imprisoned in an inhumane asylum. But there're consistent reminders of how tiny and little and small Juliette is that… well, it kind of gave me the ick. Look, I've got a height complex three times my size, so I'm not a fan of big height differences personally. I don't want to feel even shorter than I am. But with the context meaning she's probably very very skinny and frail as well, it made me a bit uncomfy. I don't know if this is just a straight woman thing that I don't get, a romance trope that I wouldn't have come across, or if the writer has a mild macro/micro kink that's coming through or what, which is why, even if I didn't like it, I don't mean it as critique. It just stood out to me.
The ending left more questions than answers because it's part of a series. That's fair. Still, I like that she found a community with other people with powers similar to hers. I think that's cool. I don't know if I'll read the other books, though. I'm kind of happy imagining that she lived safe and happily with Adam and it's all okay now, but then it was a fun book to read even if my review probably comes across as miserable so hey, we'll see!
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let's talk about lily evans and the marauders, aka moony, wormtail, padfoot and prongs. given that i didn't use their actual names, i think you can figure out where this is going. it's also long as hell, so. canon vs fanon, marauder edition, except snek is sleep deprived.
now, before we begin, i don't dislike the marauders. or lily, tbh. if I'm being perfectly, genuinely honest, i still go back and forth sometimes but they've been growing on me for a while now. the canon versions, at least. fanon does them real dirty, and that's part of why i'm writing this, because i'm genuinely tired of it. it's an injustice.
you can at least make excuses for james and lily, who were so undeveloped that jkr practically dropped a fill-in-the-blank sheet of character information in our laps, but sirius, remus and peter were around long enough for y'all to get real acquainted with them.
in canon, sirius black is an unhinged mf. genuinely. this isn't to say he's a bad guy, in fact, we see that he's still capable of doing good things, still capable of love, still capable of all the things that prove he's actually not bad at heart, just,,, severely traumatised and very steeped in negativity from his time with the dementors. what i'm saying is that this man is absolutely, no questions asked, no holds barred demented, and how could he not be? the guy sat wrongfully imprisoned in azkaban for twelve years, a good portion of which he spent as a dog in order to protect himself from the dementors. he certainly wasn't completely insane, but you cannot tell me that he was all there. he got out of azkaban fuelled almost solely by the intent to get revenge on pettigrew, tried to commit murder in front of three witnesses who were also children—one of whom was his godson—ate rats and was also malnourished, which i'm certain did not help the situation any. this man is off his goddamn rocker, and you know what? you love to see it. good for him.
oh, but, snek, that's what he's like as an adult. what about when they were at school? before azkaban? my guy, the reaction he has to grimmauld place is not the reaction of someone without trauma. i don't believe that walburga and orion were the type to physically abuse their children, but whatever happened in that house helped to fuck him up enough that he skipped the joke of part of practical joke, and pranked snape by telling him how to meet a werewolf that he knew would be fully transformed and dangerous to humans. more than that, the werewolf was remus, whom he's friends with, and who—best case scenario—would be facing a trial if james hadn't stepped in. you can say that maybe he didn't think about or understand the gravitas of his actions, but at the end of it, that's not how properly sane people react to people they dislike, and that's not how they treat their friends. if anything, it reads like he was in the middle of a breakdown and absolutely losing his shit and he wasn't thinking at all.
my guy went through some serious shit, and was in no way completely mentally stable. we can see pretty clearly that he's got a serious dark side to him that probably would have gone unbridled had he not disagreed with his family, and yet, fanon took one look at him and went, "teehee, uwu bad boi go vroom."
fanon said padfoot is a pretty boy with nice hair who is tastefully traumatised from his horribly abusive household. sirius rides his motorcycle and plays jokes and flirts with anything that moves, but he can do no real wrong and always comes back to his soft, bookish, chocolate-loving boyfriend remus, who will laugh about his lycanthropy and quietly disapprove but secretly laugh at his friends' antics while hiding his smile in his cardigan.
respectfully, what in the absolute fuck.
i'd put that meme in here if i could, the one that's like, "well done, you've broken _______ down to its bare essentials," but no. i can't bc it doesn't even apply. this isn't a meme, it's theseus' fucking ship.
fanon broke it down, and replaced the pieces one by one until we got to this point, where we need to sit down and ask ourselves, "is this even the same character?"
the answer is no, by the way. it isn't. when people talk about woobifying characters—you know, taking away every flaw they have, romanticising everything they do and making them only capable of doing good, wonderful, lovely things?—this is what we mean.
and it'd be one thing if it was just the one character, but, no. fanon went all in and made them all squeaky clean and boring, especially peter, who draws the shortest of the straws.
remus got fucked, too. not just because fanon insists on sticking him into a relationship with sirius. which, we'll tackle wolfstar in a bit, but that's not even the worst of it. here, we have yet another example of blatant, rampant woobifying. again, is he a bad person? no. we know he's a good guy, we know he's generally kind and well-mannered, we know that he wants to fo the right thing but hey, fun fact. did you know that you can be nice and a coward? did you know that you can be benevolent and good and kindly and have the greatest of intentions and still be shady as fuck? no? ask dumbledore. the man played people like chess pieces when he needed to, and he was a twinkly grandpa. these are things that can coexist.
teenage remus is a coward who, understandably, does not stand up to his friends, likely for fear of being ostracised, and doesn't uphold his prefect duties as he should and takes part in their bullying of snape as a result. he lets them romp with him in werewolf form while they are in their animagus forms and then, he lets them continue to do so even after they have multiple close calls, which, again, had anything happened, would have resulted in a trial in the best case scenario.
grownup remus is still a coward, he tells no one that sirius can move about the school in his animagus form despite wholeheartedly believing that he's a mass murderer, he tries to run out on his wife and unborn kid. he isn't deliberately making attempts to harm anyone, but he's content to sit back and let things happen to him and around him so he doesn't rock the boat, although he is capable of action, which we see when he is more than willing to help sirius merk pettigrew in the shack. he can be careless, he runs out to the shack knowing he hasn't taken his wolfsbane and ends up transforming in front of the students he, as a teacher, is meant to be protecting. of course, this doesn't negate his good qualities, it just bears repeating that his flaws do exist, and they're pretty serious.
fanon moony is always pleasant and kind and soft-spoken and bookish, and he always has to have his chocolate. he knows when to tell off his friends, and he'll do it, even if he's secretly amused by everything they do and laughs about it with his best friend, lily evans, who coincidentally spends all her time with them so he and sirius can go on double dates with james and lily and no one has to remember peter exists.
why. theseus' ship 2.0. does the actual character still exist or is this something entirely different thing bearing the same name?
as for peter, who needs peter pettigrew, the actual, legitimate, fourth marauder when you have lily evans? canon pettigrew is opportunistic as fuck. he's latching himself to the biggest bad on the block and he's going all in. for teenage peter, that was james and sirius, and for adult peter, that's voldemort. canon peter is good enough at transfiguration to master the animagus transformation, just like his friends, and he's good enough at potions to brew the potion that gives voldemort a body. and honestly, you can't say he wasn't brave. he could've run off somewhere and died, or changed his identity or something after he faked his death and framed sirius, but, no. he goes and resurrects voldemort. that's fucked up, yeah, but it happened and honestly, i respect that it. he stuck to his guns.
fanon wormtail is lucky if he exists beyond being a spineless sycophant for james and sirius, or an evil conniving little rat who's looking to toss his entire friend group to the wolves at eleven.
of course, this isn't meant to negate his bad qualities, he still murdered people and framed sirius and sold out the potters to die, but his good characteristics do exist, and james, sirius and remus genuinely were his friends.
and now, we get to lily and james.
we have hardly any information on either of them. they're a pair of cardboard cutouts that we can paint and stick flyers to and colour outside the lines however we want. we can do whatever the fuck, as long lily is brave and smart and somewhat kind and james is brave and willing to die for his family. we were essentially handed a pair of ocs.
and yet.
what little bits of canon we have are thrown out of the window regardless.
james is privileged and rich, and he throws hexes for fun. he's willing to hex lily when she disagrees with him, and then, he goes behind her back to continue hexing snape after she believes that he's stopped doing so. and that's all we know about him until he dies for his family at twenty-one years old. once again, say it with me: this does not negate his good qualities. he definitely had them, he took sirius in when sirius ran away from home, he became an animagus to keep remus company as a wolf, and he saved snape in the shack, thereby saving remus and sirius by extension. him having flaws does not make him a bad person.
fanon prongs is a feminist. he fights for equal rights for women everywhere, and he constantly treats his girlfriend, lily, like an absolute queen. he's the hottest boy in school and everyone claps when he walks through the halls. mcgonagall and dumbledore are always patting him on the back and making jokes with him. he has a built-in dark detector that helps him sense when someone is a evil and needs to he punished.
give me a break. the dude's cool and all, but was the gary stu treatment necessary?
...oh, he needed to match fanon lily? right, right.
canon lily is a contradiction unto herself. she's supposedly a great friend, but since we see her at a point where they were already drifting apart, we see her putting little effort into keeping their friendship afloat. she victim blames based on rumours, she doesn't seem to care over much about what snape has to say about the people who have been tormenting him since day one. and she's justified, of course, she doesn't have to stick around. canon lily is a bit of hypocrite, she says that snape calls everyone of her birth mudblood, but then that begs the question why she still hangs around with him if that's the case. he calls her mudblood, she retaliates by calling him snivellus, and finishes up with a dig about his underwear, which, sure, it's kicking a man with a rusty spoon and pouring salt in the wound, but she's, again, justified. i get where she was coming from. and then, of course, she dies for her kid after marrying the guy who relentlessly bullied her quote-unquote best friend for their entire school careers. but, like i said, canon lily is, in many ways, a contradiction.
lily is basically a plot device. she pushes everyone's narrative but her own, and does little else.
of course, this trend would continue in fanon. fanon lily exists to be the perfect girl who gets really angry over the slightest injustice, and of course, she gets to be one half of one of the oldest enemies-to-lovers "it was just sexual tension" cliche pairings in the book. she's just,,, a mary sue. in so many fics, so many headcanons, she's just pettigrew's stand-in, a girl to form a gang with marlene, mary and dorcas—who happen to be more undeveloped ocs who also get the woobify mary sue treatment—to parallel the marauders. there is nothing compelling about her character when she's presented as a saint, and even less when she's supposedly the other moral compass for the marauders that doesn't actually work because she thinks that james is cute.
and this brings me to the next topic. jily. what, why, how. this was supposed to be a healthy, happy relationship that would have lasted in the long run? absolutely not. even for its time, i can't say that i see it lasting.
first of all, jkr presents james' crush on lily as just that: a crush. a mildly obsessive one, but a crush nonetheless, which she tries to liken to the pulling of pigtails. and then, we see that james' way of getting her to go out with him consists of blackmail, and when that doesn't work, he resorts to threatening her. this could have been set aside if he had actually, genuinely changed when they started spending more time together, but as we're told by sirius and remus, he didn't. he just got better at hiding what he was up to. and it has to be that he hid it, because if she knew, this further damages the character that she's set up to have and paints her out to be either unable to stand up to him or an enabler.
regardless, they get married. and while i have trouble believing that it was out of genuine love, there are scenarios that could make some semblance of sense. it's wartime, after all, and maybe lily is worried about her stability in the wizarding world, so why not marry into an established family whose son is already showing interest? or perhaps, she falls into the trap of every bad boy cliche ever, and she thinks to herself, well, i got him to be better then, maybe i can get him to do even better in the future. or maybe, she doesn't get into a relationship with him immediately and sees him on and off, until eventually, she accidentally gets pregnant and they scramble to have a shotgun wedding so as not to leave lily alone at nineteen with a baby. or maybe they marry each other because they're there and sure, neither of then is ready and they don't know what love even is but what else is there to do when there's a dark lord about? anyways, the point is, they get married.
and then what? if we count pottermore into canon, he goes on to further damage her relationship with petunia and vernon, to the point where she ends up crying. if we don't, she fades into the background enough that nobody has anything to say about her. she's harry's mum, she's james' wife, lily potter, she was kind and smart and brave and that's it. her agency is gone, anything else we have of her personality is gone.
jily just,,, wasn't built to last. and, yeah, this,,, this is a hill i'll die on.
same with wolfstar, honestly. there are so many reasons why it wouldn't work, but fanon has made it so fucking prevalent that it's literally everywhere no matter where you look.
first of all, i've said it before and i'll say it again. sirius is more likely to get with james that he is to ever end up in a relationship with remus. their chemistry is just,,, underdeveloped. net zero for a relationship.
secondly, sirius instigated the werewolf prank, and lupin would have paid the price for it. this could have been overlooked, but he doesn't seem the slightest bit guilty about any of it when it's brought up in poa. he could have been responsible for lupin losing the security of his place at hogwarts in the best case scenario, and in the worst case, his life. and he seems to look forward to full moons, even though they clearly aren't pleasant for remus, which,,, yeah, you're going to have fun, but like, maybe be concerned about the fact that your friend undergoes excruciating pain and it isn't a pleasant time for him? read the room, my g.
thirdly, they don't trust each other as much as fanon seems to think they do. they were both willing to believe each other the traitor before ever suspecting pettigrew. sirius thought remus gave away the potters, hell, he thought remus was a spy for voldemort, and remus was convinced that sirius was a mass murderer. neither of them needed to be convinced.
fourthly, maybe i'm reading too much into it, but like. sirius had money. remus had no money, since, yk, he was a werewolf and struggling for cash and still, sirius,,, did not leave him any money. i feel like if you had money to spare, you would give to your friend who is literally poor. but, again, maybe i'm reading too much into it and this isn't as valid a point as i think it is.
and ehh, the fifth reason is that it's,,, actually very much not the representation for the ltgbt community that fanon says it is but y'all aren't ready for that conversation.
anyways, just,,, even when you set the couple shit aside, the power dynamics between everyone here is fucked. like, james and sirius are clearly at the top of food chain calling the shots and egging each other on. then there's lily, who isn't even a marauder, but is always ever-so-slightly above remus but still not on their level, because, well. neither of them actually listen to her. remus is the novelty friend, the friend who's,,, alright, i guess, but you keep them around specifically because they're funny or they can dance or they have something that you can either show off to other people or keep as your little inside joke, your little secret, yk? and peter is just sort of there. like, yeah, he can do what we can but does that make him as good as we are? no. does he have a funny little something about him that we can exploit? nah. therefore he sits at the bottom. and like, yeah, james and sirius are on the same level, but james is yanking sirius' chain, not the other way around. anyways, like i said. power dynamic's fucked and it bothers me that we were given all of this, and fanon decided to take it all and throw it away so they could give us flamboyant!badboi!sirius black x softboi!motherhen!remus lupin going on double dates with feminist!trustfundbaby!james potter and saint!lily evans while ignoring peter pettiwho?
theseus' fucking ship, indeed.
anyways, this needed to be said. it might not make as much sense as i want it to, considering it's 4:12 in the morning as i'm posting this, after taking a break from writing to do some research and coming across way too much content about fanon marauders, but it's here and it still makes enough sense that you can read it and understand what i mean. and like, at the end of the day, you can go ahead and headcanon whatever you please, you can write fic and make art and do whatever you like, just,,, remember that they're exactly that. headcanons. stop presenting fanon as canon. please. i'm literally begging. we actually have evidence against it. just,,, acknowledge that they're headcanons and stop putting them forward as though they're able to fit into canon. please.
#harry potter#marauder fanon#canon vs fanon#lily evans#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#peter pettigrew#the marauders#severus snape is mentioned a few times#but this isn't about him#i'm just#so sick of fanon#i need to like refilter my tags or smth bc istg i see more fanon marauder posts than i do anything else#anyways this is my take#and yeah it is 4:11 in the morning and i'm tired#i can't remember when i started this but yeah#point is i am so done#anti jily#anti wolfstar
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Ok ok ok ok!!!! You know what character I would really, really love to see come back for a cameo?
Kieran from Countrycide!
Just imagine it. Gwen is out and about, trying to exist with all that existential dread, dealing with all that survivor’s guilt and the futility of fighting against evil and questioning her contribution to the world and arguing with Rhys over what the better sort of soap is, when she hears someone calling her name.
Her hand discretely goes for her gun. The voice sounds friendly, but who is to say that isn’t a ruse? It’s a young lad, late twenties, kind of tired looking, but really happy. Big smile on his face. He looks at Gwen, like she expects him to recognise him. Gwen tries to bluff through it, but he quickly guesses she doesn’t recognise him. He is still smiling and says it was years ago, but he certainly recognises her. You don’t quickly forget the face of the woman who saves you from cannibals even after you accidentally shoot her. And that’s when the lightbulb goes off.
So Gwen is actually delighted to find out that the traumatised teenager she held in her arms is now this nice, happy looking guy with baby food on his collar. They go and grab a quick drink and a bite to eat, and he shows her wedding and baby pics and tells her about his time at uni and his wife and baby girl, and lets her know that if it weren’t for Gwen and her friends, he would never have got to live that life, but would have died far away from home, taunted and terrified.
And Gwen, who always remembers the cannibals as the moment she lost her faith in humanity, and the start of ‘moral downfall’ (shagging Owen), suddenly sees the incident in a whole new light, and along with that, all her work with Torchwood. She is reminded that no matter how hard her job was, how many mistakes she made, if she hadn’t been out there helping people, she and her team, it would have been people like Kieran who would have suffered for it.
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It was a not-so-quiet Saturday morning
Part One - It was a quiet Saturday morning
Part two - A conversation on a Saturday morning
Unknowing of the chaos going on with the bats and birds, Marinette calmed herself down by talking aimlessly with Alfred. Their Quiche had been placed in the oven with more cheese than Alfred had anticipated (no wonder his tasted different!) and the two had almost finished cleaning the minimal mess they had made.
While cooking, the pair had been talking about everything and nothing, creating a tranquil atmosphere in the Wayne kitchen.
This was exactly what Mari needed. Alfred had always been a calming force which steered her in the right direction. While she could always go to Damian when she felt lonely, she knew her boyfriend never had the conventional upbringing. The combination of a strict mother and lack of social interaction had a large impact on him and while she never found out the severity of his lonesome childhood, she could only assume it was a large reason why he was never able to be fully open with her.
Was it irresponsible of her to stroll out of a portal in front of his entire family? Probably but it had been a long week and she had always been one for just a little bit of chaos. Through Damian’s minimal descriptions of the Wayne family she could gather that they would remain cautious and sceptical of her until they got a confident understanding of who she is, and honestly that was fair. If being Ladybug had taught her anything she should know that it takes a long time for people to build trust. If sitting through countless hours of questions and dubious looks could grant her the trust of Damian’s family it was definitely worth it. Just having Alfred trust her completely had taken a long time (and a lot of macaroons) so Marinette knew she had the patience.
She also knew that even after meeting his family she wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with Damian as she would want. The time differences were an easy obstacle to conquer with Marinette having access to teleportation and technology being available for spoken communication. Damian had found out her identity when they had met and while it had stressed 15 year old her into an oblivion, it had ended up alright.
The only real hindrance they faced was their equally busy schedules. Damian was sitting multiple AP exams in his junior year, writing his SAT and still had to focus on being a vigilant. While Marinette had no such large exams, the baccalauréat was only next year and le Ministère de l'Éducation nationale had installed coursework that she would have to complete along with the series of examinations. Both teenagers had a lot on their plate and while Damian can destress in training, Marinette’s only outlet was fashion design which was becoming a part time job.
She. Needed. A. Break. And honestly she’d been curious about what Damian’s family would be like.
Interrupting her train of thought, she spotted the Wayne’s walking into the kitchen through her peripheral vision and immediately knew she was about to be grilled. She could try to escape but at this point the motion was useless. They would not only be able to watch her leave but the at would only make them trust her less. She sighed deeply and she placed the last bowl on the drying rack and turned around ready. She is strong! She is confident! She is....
...They completely bamboozled her. Marinette, although stubborn, never stood a chance. Who knew that walking out of a portal and attacking asking for a hug from her boyfriend wouldn’t be presumed as normal by his family (Tikki knew. Tikki definitely knew).
“...and I kinda just felt lonely at home so I came here.” Marinette finished, looking around hesitantly at the other people in the room who all stared at her in silence. It was easy to say that they were all quite stunned that 17 year old, temperamental and despondent Damian Wayne had somehow managed to score a seemingly innocent and jovial Eurasian girl. While there was no evidence of what she was saying to be true, the testing looks Alfred had sent them had warded of any insulting suspicions they could have about Marinette as a person.
After a very tense moment of silence, Jason had come to the rescue.
“...Yeah she’s way too pure. Steph you owe me 50 bucks.”
“JASON!”
“IT’S TRUE!”
And that’s how Marinette introduced to the absurdity of the Wayne family. It took around a month for them to fully trust her (the manor should really have signs! The batcave was basically in plain sight!) but it was nice to finally meet the inhabitants of “the madhouse” as Damian had described.
While there were trials,
“Pixie have you seen my guns?”
“Yep! I confiscated them.”
“You WHAT????!!!”
And a couple tribulations,
“GRAYSON! RELINQUISH THOSE PHOTOGRAPHS AT ONCE!”
“Don’t worry! I’m saving them for the wedding!”
“GRAYSON!”
the Parisian super heroine fitted in like an amicable yet sleep deprived puzzle piece. While the Waynes could survive without another traumatised teenager in the family, that doesn’t mean they would want to now.
“... and this is my daughter Mar’i”
“Hi! It’s nice to-“
“Are you a fairy?”
“Huh?”
Thank Kwami for that not-so-quiet Saturday morning.
Hiya! Thank you so much for all of the support people have given me on the last two parts of this fic! I’ve tried to tag everyone who asked but if I ardently didn’t I am very sorry. I hope people enjoyed this update! Stay safe and (try to) stay happy!
- Heems 💛
@a4-machete @swiftie-miraculer13 @alyssadeliv @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @qualitypeacepainter @solangelo252 @kashlyn @alysrose-starchild @our-preciousss @jjmjjktth @icerosecrystal @miraculousfanfic127 @stainedglassm
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