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kianely · 4 months

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”LORD KNOWS, IT WOULD BE THE FIRST TIME”

i. PAIRING — Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

ii. SYNOPSIS — Leon saves you from the unlucky predicament you found yourself in when you decided to take a rewarding vacation overseas. He ends up liking you a little too much though, and not just in a platonic way. And naturally, you’re pretty love struck by him too.

iii. CONTENT — Mostly fluff, mentions of trauma (from what the reader saw while being rescued), mentions of Leon’s survival guilt, Leon’s smitten with you, fluff, tension and kissing at end, banter, he gives you a flip phone, work gathering, motorcycle ride, he finally gets a vacation, inaccurate depictions of the government, coercion to work for the government, RE4 Leon

iv. WC — 7.2k

You knew a lot. Too much. All because you decided to go abroad as a reward for finally getting a white-collar job. Your countless years spent in post-secondary education whilst having a part-time job paid off, and before you started your new job, you decided to indulge in a trip overseas.

You never expected to get lost during one of the tours, much less to find yourself stumbling across what seemed to be a ghost town that had a few…peculiar citizens. They told you to get lost when you asked for directions, and the one time you found a map plastered on a wall, it was an outdated one that didn’t even show the modern roads, no use in that.

That’s what led to your current situation. Somehow, you were lucky enough to make it out of there with the help of a particular someone. You never expected to board a helicopter in your life, you felt your stomach churn as you glanced out the window and reflected on what you had just been through.

All the thoughts revolving in that mind of yours were the freakish events and sights you had been an unwilling witness to. Ones that would undoubtedly throw you right into therapy, and have you tossing and turning in your bed at night like a scared child with a night light thinking a monster would seep out from their closet or underneath their bed. You would never set foot into a movie theater to watch a well-done horror movie ever again, all the things you had seen in the last couple of days topped all of that.

You wished you could wash and reset your eyes after all the mutated and downright monstrous creatures that flashed through your brain now and again. Hell, you now believed that every single urban myth or legend was a complete possibility, probably lurking out there somewhere. Every moving object just made your heart drop like from when limbs had reached out to try and grab or swing at you. You wanted to curl up into a little ball and be cradled by a parental figure, to be coddled and rocked back and forth until you fell asleep with no worries on your mind.

The murky fluids carried by the bodies of water in underground tunnels that were potent with diseases and infections were the same ones that had dried up on your once damp and soaked pants. You were damn lucky you hadn’t gotten an open wound anywhere under your upper thighs, how horrible would it be for you to escape and end up dying a day later from an infection?

The heavy gunfire and explosives left your ears physically hurting, you hoped the lingering buzzing noise would eventually leave. The only soothing sound you would hear throughout your utterly traumatic experience was the voice of a certain strong agent urging you to “hurry up” and “stay close behind him.” The same one that reassured you and checked up on you whenever the two of you got a chance to relax and take a breath, he would look you in the eyes and tell you that it was all going to be okay. And you believed him.

“You doing alright?” Ah, there was that familiar voice.

Your internal response? Absolutely not. But then again, you didn’t have the heart to tell the source of the question the truth. After all, Leon had been protecting you and had even taught you the basics of self-defense and combat moves for extra measure. All out of his own generosity, too. You had picked up on why he was sent to the site. You weren’t a priority to his job, not at all. Yet, he had gone through hell just to make sure you got out alive.

So, you resorted to masking your response with some sarcasm, by now, you knew he’d appreciate it. It felt like you had known him forever. “Peachy. I don’t think I’ve ever been better, you?”

You were still in denial, accepting everything would be too hard right now and you’d crumble on the spot. You were trying to think of anything else: your first meal after all this, maybe you’d need to buy new clothes now so a fun shopping trip was in order, Leon’s perfect face — no, not that.

Leon scoffed — the corner of his lips tugged up in response to your sarcasm. “It’s okay to tell the truth, y’know. You went through a hell of a lot more than you should’ve had to. Give yourself some credit.”

“But I’m fine,” you insisted, slumping against your seat and scratching the nape of your neck. Your mind was all over the place, you wouldn’t even be able to articulate all your worries without stumbling over your words. “I made it out without any major injuries, thanks to you.”

The only injury you had gotten were some cuts on the palms of your hands from all the times you had toppled down onto the earthy ground or wooden floors and had to use your hands to catch yourself and dodge…whatever the hell was chasing after you. The damn bastard didn’t even have a name. Your back wasn’t doing so well either, you definitely wouldn’t be able to reach your toes or stretch properly for a good while.

Leon sighed at your stubbornness, finding himself in you, he understood you better than most people could. He reached over and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, and he smiled. “Don’t thank me for that. You did good and made it out alive. Plus…you did well at defending yourself, that leg strength of yours is no joke.”

His dazzling toothy smile stirred butterflies in your stomach. It felt genuine, a far cry from the close-mouthed smiles he had cast your way before. You wondered how he could muster up such a smile with that job of his.

You couldn’t offer anything more than an appreciative smile of your own as you looked down towards your lap, murmuring a small, “Guess so.” His praise made you feel a little light-headed, or maybe it was the gentleness within his gaze that had that effect.

He would’ve liked to hear those same words he just told you back during the incident of 1998, maybe even a small pat on the back accompanied by a “you did well, rookie.”

His missions involved so many casualties that it pained him, he had never grown desensitized to it despite his long years in the field. He’s too human for that, the angel perked on his shoulder wouldn’t allow him to be numb to it.

But you.

He managed to save you. And that was a couple fewer pounds that could’ve been slumped onto his shoulders — the ones that threatened to snap and give out on him from the years of massive and overwhelming guilt of everyone he had watched die. It didn’t matter that the two of you were essentially strangers, it would’ve crushed him if you had died on his watch. Through the short time you guys had been together, he had learned a lot about you.

Plus, he liked you. Romantically, he wasn’t the biggest fan of the meek and weak type. No. He liked mature people, those who could challenge his witty banter, who wouldn’t be clingy, and who could understand his baggage. You. You had spunk, the same kind he found himself yearning for in a companion when he went back to an empty home. He was fond of you, it made him wonder if he would be able to have you in his life.

Maybe, just maybe, whatever God was out there would grant him some mercy and give him what he wanted for once.

The helicopter had landed, and your leg was bouncing up and down out of anxiousness. Where the hell were you even at? You had nothing, not an ounce of technology or identification on you aside from your DNA and fingerprints.

Leon was feeling tense too, not for the unknowns but because he knew. He’d been forced to kiss the government’s ass and he was familiar with their way of thinking, they’d likely interrogate you, and if you had some use for them then they’d find a way to keep you around. He felt some solace in knowing that you didn’t display the same physical capabilities that he did, otherwise, they would snatch you up, train you into a machine, and send you out into the field in a couple of years if you made the cut.

Leon was the first to get out of the helicopter, extending his arm and offering his hand to help you. He knew you were feeling uneasy, he didn’t plan on leaving you alone to your thoughts. “Was this your first time on a helicopter?”

“Yeah, first time.” You gladly accepted his assistance, feeling the calluses on his skin as you cautiously got out. “Not how I imagined it to be like, but…”

“Well,” he shrugged, “you took it like a champ, no motion sickness or anything.”

“You must be used to flying all the time, right?”

Leon nodded, letting out a sigh before sharing his thoughts on the topic. He figured some honesty could go a long way. “I’m actually kind of sick of flying — planes, helicopters, everything. But if I ever get a vacation? I’m leaving behind a cloud of dust and making a beeline for Italy.”

“Italy, huh?” You made a mental note of that, for future reference. You just hoped there would be a way to keep in contact with him after everything was said and done.

“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to go. Never have the time though.”

There was only so much conversation that could be held until you curiously took a look at your surroundings. You took a breath, feeling a bit daunted by some of the important-looking personnel whose eyes were boring into you.

��This place looks…pretty intimidating.”

Leon’s hand hovered over the small of your back so he could keep you close and guide you inside. “You’ll be okay.”

After that, the two of you pretty much got separated. He had to give a full report about the mission, and also explain how he had strung you along. The higher-ups had to run a background check on you and were going to monitor you. But he made you a promise, he’d come to see you when he was allowed to.

Leon always told himself he’d start minding his own damn business. You were well and alive, that should be more than enough for him. He didn’t deserve to indulge in someone who could make his life brighter, that was selfish. But, he so desperately wanted to have you in his life.

Whenever he got attached to someone, it all went south. But, he knew you were alone. He’d been in your situation — alone and with unimaginable baggage, a deadly mix. He needed to do something.

On the other hand, you were taken into questioning about what you had seen, and how the state of the town you had been visiting before everything went to shit. You hated having to talk about it, stammering over your words, and taking long pauses because it was too much. Broke down sobbing after one session. The denial phase progressively diminished, it was painful. They then transferred you to a more isolated area to monitor your physical health. They didn’t give a damn about your actual well-being, even if you had been injured they wouldn’t have tended to you.

You lost track of time, a couple of weeks had gone by.

You were a pitiful sight, all alone in a room with high-quality technology surrounding you — machines monitoring you just in case anything irregular popped up in your health that was connected to the bioweapons you had been exposed to.

But alas, the day finally came, and you could leave. You relished the clean clothes they gave you in place of the gown you had been required to wear for the monitoring. You sat on the twin-sized bed, gaze cast to the floor as you thought about what the future held.

Some gentle knocks on the door made you jump a little, your eyes immediately darting over to see who it was through the glass on the door. Leon. God, he was a sight for sore eyes. He looked concerned, the knit of his brows made that clear.

Mustering up a small and weak smile, you beckoned him to come in. If there was one person that could bring you some solace, it was him. He would’ve come sooner, hell, he would’ve visited you every damn day you were stuck here. But he wasn’t allowed to under strict orders, not until the day you were to be released.

Leon entered the room, closing the door behind him. He was carrying a bag of takeout in his free hand, holding it up for you to see. “The food here is pretty bland, figured you could use this.”

The sight almost made you groan, anything sounded more appetizing than the soup and packaged food you had been given the past few weeks. “God. Yes. Please.”

He chuckled at your reaction, setting the medium sized drink by your bedside before sitting down next to you. He opened up the bag and then handed you the plastic utensils, napkins, and the container.

“I’m glad you came, I was getting lonely.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Leon knew how deafening the silence could be, nothing good came out of being left to your thoughts.

“I owe you a meal someday,” you told him as you began eating. “You have to pick though, I don’t know any of the restaurants around here.”

“I’ll be sure to make a list then. I’m paying though.”

“What? That’s hardly fair.”

“Shh, eat your food.”

You rolled your eyes and grumbled something under your breath, but you knew he meant well based on the lightheartedness of his voice. So, you complied.

Meanwhile, Leon was mentally brainstorming places he thinks you would like in the area — somewhere pretty, he wanted you to have a good time.

After you had finished, Leon let out a sigh and pulled something out of his pocket. A flip phone. He gave it to you. He wordlessly handed it to you.

Woah. What?

You cast him a curious glance before reaching out for it. “Uh, what’s this?” You knew what it was, but why?

“Well, your phone broke.” He placed a hand on your shoulder. “I saved my number on it already, so just give me a call if you ever need anything.”

Could a man be more perfect? A flip phone was simple, easy to call and all. He knew that you’d likely get an actual smartphone in a couple of days, but he was worried. He just wanted you to be able to contact him whenever and wherever.

You laughed a little, taking a minute to toy around with the buttons on the flip phone. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“How much did it cost?”

“Not much, they’re pretty cheap these days.”

With the topic of technology brought up, you had the chance to ask something you had been mulling over. “So, how come I’ve never seen you on the news before? You’re like a knight or something.”

Leon was mildly amused by the sudden inquiry, humming softly to himself as he stirred up a response.

“Well, I’m not too sure people would believe a headline about half of the things I deal with. It’s pretty much kept undercover.” There was a lot more to it than that, but he kept it simple. “Plus, I’m just doing my job — it’s no biggie.”

“Bummer,” you sighed out, “you’d have tons of fans.” It wasn’t even a stretch. A man as attractive and heroic as him? With the size of his biceps? He’d be trending every other week, and some portion of the population would definitely have posters of him. A bit unfitting considering the contents of his job, but not unlikely.

“Would I? Why’s that?” The concept was foreign to him. Sure, he’d gotten compliments on his looks, but that was about it…nobody actively tried to pursue him. And the couple of times he had tried to ask someone on a dinner date, he got a no. He wasn’t insecure about it, though — the only people he had tried to ask out were people in his line of work, all the baggage made relationships and dating tricky.

His question caught you off guard, you knew the answer but you couldn’t say it out loud. “Well…” you trailed off, meeting his gaze before immediately darting your eyes away. “You know, just…”

“No, I don’t think I do.” His voice was one of humor, spoken through a chuckle — he wanted to know.

You let out a long exhale before recomposing yourself. “You look like you could be the heartthrob of the decade. And your personality isn’t half bad either.”

He was quiet for a moment. Now it was his turn to look away, attention now on his hands as he pretended to pick at some of the calluses. Eventually, he voiced his next question. “Would you be one of my fans?”

You snorted, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh yeah. With pom poms and all, maybe I’d even come up with a cheer or something.”

His lips tugged into a small smirk at that, one that was barely visible — he really liked you. “I’d be sure to take a picture to make it last longer.”

“You wish.”

“A guy can dream.”

The government could have very well sent you on your way out into the world when you essentially had absolutely nothing. But, you had some close ones back in your hometown, so, if you just suddenly vanished and your family panicked when they thought you were returning from a vacation…then that would make some things more difficult. The mystery of how you ended up in DC without any of your belongings would be concerning.

Plus, they looked into your file backgrounds. Intelligent, you had the brains, and now the knowledge of bioweapons. Surely, there’d be good use in keeping you around. Possible training to become a field operations support was in your future. They could kill two birds with one stone: gain another worker, and keep you close to the headquarters just in case you tried to expose what you had seen.

It was easy for them to do through blackmail and threats to hurt your loved ones if you didn’t comply with their orders of living in DC. They made you record some bullshit lie to your family as to why you were here.

They printed out all your personal documents that you had lost so you could get a job nearby and get back on your feet, helped get your credit card replaced, and that was it. Any physical cash you had was gone, but at the very least you did have enough money in your bank account to crash at a motel while you sorted things out.

Bastards, really. Yeah, at least you had necessities now, but it was purely for their own benefit.

The prices for even renting a place in DC were just… jaw-dropping. You’d have to search for a small place, and honestly, a car was the last thing on your mind. Having a roof over your head was the most important part. The good news is that with your resume and educational background, you bagged a job fairly soon — though it was nothing compared to the job you were supposed to have.

It had been months since the whole fiasco. You managed to find a small apartment, nothing fancy of course. That was for the better, having a spacious place all to yourself would drive you to the brink of insanity.

You were still very jittery: jumping whenever there was a knock on your door even when you were anticipating a delivery, needing the television on just for the sake of not being left in silence with your thoughts, and sleeping with all the lights on even if your electricity bill suffered as a result.

You thought you would be able to muster up the courage to go to therapy, but would that even be possible? It’s not like you could truthfully talk about your experiences. Even if you did, there’s no way anyone would believe you. And again, it was too much money.

By now, you had gotten a smartphone. But you never discarded the flip phone that Leon had gifted you. You used it to give him a call on a couple of occasions, but you never kept him for over five minutes, not wanting to disturb him for too long, you knew he was busy. Sometimes he didn’t pick up, but after a couple of days, he would return the call and tell you what had kept him from doing so: another assignment, long meetings, all that jazz. Even so, those calls always left you smiling for hours afterward.

Unbeknownst to you, the man on the other side of the phone was equally as thrilled. His pearly whites were always on display whenever you called him. Whenever he got back from work, the first thing he did was check to see if he had any missed calls or voicemails. No matter how battered and sore his body was, your voice alone managed to make him feel all better.

The days blended in together, and oftentimes you found yourself asking what or who was your motivation to keep up with this routine. The only answer that immediately came to mind aside from your loved ones was him. Leon.

Washing the dishes? Hm, you wonder what kind of food Leon eats. Watching TV? Leon mentioned he liked watching movies when he had free time. Struggling with opening a stubborn jar? Leon could definitely open this. Typing a text message? Would Leon use emojis? Abbreviations? Maybe he was one of those people who texted slow as hell and only used their index finger for each individual letter. You should know by now, but the two of you only ever called, and never texted.

The point is, he was flooding your thoughts.

In your mind, you justified it by thinking the only reason you wanted him in your life was to repay him for all the help he had been. But, that was far from the truth. Not when the memory of him flashing you a smile was enough to make your heart do tiny flips or the way his voice was so deeply engraved in your brain that you longed to hear it all the time. And the way you started spending more time on your appearance, just in case you happened to bump into him somewhere — slim chances, but you’d take them.

And naturally, you knew you would feel safe and content with him keeping you company. What you would give to roll your eyes and scoff at one of his puns or lame movie references, or to maybe catch the glimmer of endearment in his gaze whenever it shifted to you.

Would you ever be able to love a man who didn’t understand what you had gone through to a degree?

The sensation of your smartphone suddenly vibrating in your pocket made you flinch and snap out of your thoughts — a frown tugging on your lips as you scrambled to pull it out and answer.

Oh boy, your time at the headquarters wasn't short-lived. And that job of yours? You’d have to resign soon. Seems like the plan to train you to become a field operations support was coming up. Your presence had been requested at a work gathering, collaboration and teamwork skills were essential. So with this event, trainees and recruits could converse with those who were more experienced, to break the ice a little bit. So you convinced yourself you had to go.

Here you were a week later — sitting inside a fancy looking room, moving your now empty cup around. You had been here for thirty minutes and you weren’t sure how much more small talk you could handle. If you were asked the question, ‘So, how’d you land this position?’ one more time, you’d feel physically ill.

Getting ready for the gathering had driven you insane, you took an entire two hours to get ready, mostly because you kept pacing in front of your closet, indecisive about what to wear. Assuming Leon was going to be there, this would be his first time seeing you in actual clothing that aligned with your fashion style, enough said.

You stood up, ready to go outside for a couple of minutes to get some fresh air from this otherwise suffocating environment. But as you looked towards the door, a certain man caught your attention.

There he was. Leon Kennedy in all his glory. When was the last time you saw him in person? A few months. So, why did it feel like you were seeing him for the first time again? You were blown away by his beauty.

He was talking to a taller man who was pretty hunky and had the body of an agent. You assumed they were good buds, seeing the way they patted each other and seemed to be having an interesting conversation rather than a forced one.

You had no idea how long you stood there, but it felt like only a couple of seconds since you were busy admiring him. Maybe he felt your eyes on him, because he eventually looked over directly at you and then dismissed himself from his friend.

Leon almost looked like a puppy as he made his way over to you, his eye-lit gaze set on you despite the plethora of other people he knew in the room. With a couple excuse me’s, he finally reached you.

You had a lot of time to think of a way to greet him, and yet your mind turned to mush the second he was near you. A simple hi, hey, what’s up? No, that wouldn’t suffice. It would feel forced.

“No offense, but this doesn’t strike me as your kind of scene.” You eventually told him, a sly smile forming on your face.

He placed a hand over his chest and scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Like a dagger to my heart.” After a shared chuckle between the two of you, he gave you a genuine answer. “It’s nice sometimes, gives me a chance to catch up with some people and nurse a drink. But generally? No, not really my scene.”

Before you could say anything in response, he gestured towards you with his hand. “You look stunning.”

“I’d hope so. Though, I think anything is a step up from what I was wearing when you met me.”

“Oh c’mon. You pulled off the look.”

How? He had witnessed you wearing dirty and muddy clothes with scrapes all over. You had definitely not been in the most presentable state. Though to be fair, he had been in the same boat — he did all the combat, so he ended up with ruined clothes and blood all over. Then again, his pretty face and killer body blinded you from those details.

“Well, what can I say? Guess I’m just that charming,” You tried to come across as confident, but the giddy grin on your face in response to his compliment gave away just how much his words affected you.

Cute. Did he make you happy? Years of unsuccessful romance led him to believe that it’s not a big deal, it’s just a natural response to being complimented. But…there was a hopeful voice in his head that said otherwise. No no no, he was being silly. He saved you, he shouldn’t even be thinking about asking you to dinner. Shouldn’t be thinking about how you’d look sitting across the table from him, with a glass of champagne in your hand and that perfect smile plastered on your face from the conversation at hand. He wanted to know you. And he knew he was a goner when he woke up one morning upset because he felt like something was missing — you in his arms, curled up against him.

“So, you’re a trainee now?” Leon knew you were going to be here, it was the reason he had unconsciously put more effort into his appearance.

“Yeah, it’s surreal to think about…it sounds stressful.”

“I’m sorry you got dragged into all this.”

“It’s not your fault. Things could be worse, I’m just glad I’m back on my feet.”

“You’re pretty optimistic.”

“Mhm. Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to talk to you over your earpiece one day.”

Leon almost froze at that. The thought was appealing. Maybe he should feel selfish for thinking of this in a positive manner when the government had been responsible for the switch up in your life. Even so, he knew that his spirit would be boosted if he heard your voice giving him intel and instructions. Plus, how come you didn’t seem so upset over that?

“In that case, I’m looking forward to that.”

“Yeah? I’m surprised you haven’t gotten sick of my voice after all those voicemails I’ve left you.”

Ah, the same ones he replayed over and over when he couldn’t sleep. The same ones that managed to keep his post-mission loneliness at bay. The same ones that prevented him from getting a bottle of beer from his fridge and spiraling.

“I could never.” The nearly whispered answer gave away just how sincere he was. Not a quip, not even a tug of his lips.

It made your breath hitch, those three words made you melt like an ice cream left out on a hot summer day. How was it that everything blurred out except for him? The nearby chit-chatter, the blur of people moving around in the background, the clinking of plates and glasses — nothing mattered, nothing took your attention from him.

“You sound pretty confident in your answer.”

“I am.”

“How come?”

Would it scare you if he chose to be sincere? “It’s just nice hearing your voice, y’know, I don’t get many phone calls.”

No, he had to give you more, that sounded too casual. “And uh, they help me…make me feel like I’m not completely alone or lost in this world.”

“I’ll be sure to keep calling you, then.” You were being honest.

He became aware of the semi awkward conversation he had caused, Leon cleared his throat and gestured to the table with drinks. “Shall we?”

Mostly everyone had left after two hours, the only vehicle left in the parking lot was Leon’s bike. You got here through public transportation, you really had to get a car eventually. But, it was hard with your financial situation.

You let out a low whistle when you caught sight of his bike, it suited him, honestly. He took good care of it. “Sweet ride.”

It was his pride and joy, one of his only belongings that gave him a thrill and an escape. And he really wouldn’t mind letting you into that part of his life.

“Yeah, she’s a beauty.” He could give you a ride if you were willing. He kept two helmets anyway, an older one just for nostalgia, and then a newer one. “Ever ridden one?”

“No way,” you laugh, you’re intrigued though. You meet his gaze and see that he’s smiling — and you manage to piece together what he’s offering. “No way.” You repeat incredulously as if asking: Seriously!? You’d let me?

“Way.”

He walked over to his bike and patted one of the helmets. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. Promise.”

“What if I fall off?”

“I won’t let you fall off.”

Oh, what the hell? After all Leon has done for you, you trusted him with your life. You approached him, catching onto the subtle flame in his eyes. “Fine, I’m up for it.”

He knew the nearby layout of the area pretty well, so when you told him your address, he knew what route to take.

“Hold still.” Lifting the helmet, he made sure to put it snugly onto you, buckling the chin strap so it wouldn’t fly off or be loose. It made you feel some kind of way. He was so close. If you didn’t have the helmet as a barrier, you’d be tempted to kiss him.

He took a step back to look at you, unable to resist from mumbling out a small ‘cute’ under his breath. Somehow, you hadn’t heard.

“Comfortable?” He asked. You nodded. Why did his voice sound raspy all of a sudden? Leon then worked on putting a helmet on himself. Your throat felt dry as you idly stood by and watched, he always looked good…but the sight of him with a helmet on was something you could get used to. With his handsome face now hidden, your attention was drawn more to his body, you tried to not stare at the way his shirt fit tightly against his muscles. Then you realized your eyes weren’t all that visible due to the helmet and dark night. So…you stared.

He taught you how to mount and dismount the bike, he prefers to get on first and for passengers to get on afterward, and for you to dismount the bike before he did. Naturally, he also went over some of the rules for passengers, when to lean, to be cautious of stops, etc. He just wanted both of you to be on the same page. With some trial, error, and a couple of laughs over it, you eventually managed to get the hang of it. So here you were now, all ready to go.

“Hold on tight, I wouldn't want you to fall off or anything.” By now, he knows you’re used to his joking.

“Thanks.” You deadpanned, though you couldn’t help the sliver of amusement that slipped into your voice. “Very reassuring, Kennedy.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, you could feel all the muscle he had gained throughout his years of nonstop physical activity.

Leon was smiling underneath his helmet, feeling your body warmth against him. He never really thought he’d be able to have someone else on his motorcycle, especially not someone he had grown to adore so much. The feeling of your arms around him put his heart at ease. “Okay, here goes. Remember, if anything happens just tap me twice.”

At first, it was pretty steady — merely navigating out of the parking space and into the streets, stopping at some red lights, getting a kick out of the way Leon purposely revved the engine for you to hear, and the way you could feel the rise and fall of his muscles as he breathed. It was a soothing pattern, one you’d like to feel more often, perhaps with your head resting comfortably against his stomach.

Entering the ramp to the freeway was an entirely different experience, the breeze suddenly increased tenfold as Leon sped up now that the speed limit was higher.

It felt exhilarating — a stark contrast to how you had felt when you were cooped up all alone in your apartment with nothing but silence. The loud engine of the bike roaring through the freeway drowned out any doubts or worries before they even had the chance to surface to your consciousness. It was so fast that the lights of the cars almost turned into a blur, but the nighttime made it seem so pretty. It felt good.

Honestly, it felt like you were there for hours when that was far from the true reality of a short five minute ride, your heartbeat slowed back down along with the speed of the bike as Leon cautiously drove in the lonely and dimly lit streets of your neighborhood, relying on your input to reach the specific building that had your apartment in it.

Once he finally parked, you got the chance to exhale properly — having been so caught up in the pretty night scenery and the fact you had just gotten a ride from none other than Leon S. Kennedy. You were reluctant to unwrap yourself from him but did so anyway. “Woah,” was all you could say.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“Much better than the bus I take, that’s for sure. Life changing.”

With the short lessons you had gone over, you managed to dismount his bike, maybe checking him out a little as he then followed to do the same. He took his gloves off before making his way to you and working on taking your helmet off. The entirety of the situation felt oddly intimate, like a daily interaction a couple would partake in.

“You have a lot of trust in me,” he muttered that comment under his breath as if it was meant for the breeze to sweep away like a leaf. But you heard it anyway.

“That’s pretty funny coming from the guy who quite literally saved my life.”

He merely chuckled, now taking off his helmet. Leon didn’t want to delve into that topic. In his mind, he didn’t necessarily ‘save’ you, he didn’t want to take credit for your own mental and physical strength. The way you were so happy despite everything that had occurred…he admired you for it. He didn’t want you to spiral into the same loneliness and self-guilt that he had, he swore he wouldn’t let you. God, how he wishes he had met you sooner. Late was better than never, though.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you to your door.” Dork. He didn’t even know which door was yours. It was sweet though, you led the way inside and up an elevator to your floor. Leon committed the way to memory, just in case he ever swung by in the future. He took a look around, making sure everything looked clean and safe, just a habit of his after his years in the force. It looked pretty cozy though, the halls were illuminated well, and everything was in great condition. Some of his worries were eased.

“Thanks for the ride, I had a lot of fun.” Honestly, you had a lot of things you could thank him for, but that would take you more than just a couple of minutes and you didn’t want to keep him since you knew he had to get home too. Internally, you hoped maybe the two of you could meet up — you liked being in his presence.

He brushed it off with a brief wave of his hand, “No worries.” He didn’t feel like you needed to thank him for anything. He felt a pit in his stomach as he watched you open up your door. It was too soon. He didn’t even hide the fact he was staring at you, you turned around back around to face him, ready to say bye, and awkwardly get inside.

This was his cue to leave. In any other situation, he’d say, ‘I’ll see ya around’. But he hesitated.

You felt like you were burning up under his pensive gaze, wanting to know what thoughts were occupying that mind of his. Whatever it was, he clearly had something to say. You felt your hopes lift. “Leon?”

The fact is, he had something to ask you. Some higher entity had listened to his pleas and he had gotten a week off, his godsent vacation was finally here.

Like he had mentioned to you once, he wasn’t a huge fan of planes. Vacation or not, he tried to avoid them, there was nothing more reliable than his gorgeous motorcycle. But, he made an exception, and maybe he’d feel more at ease with you on the plane with him. Truth be told, if you said no to his offer, he wouldn’t even go on a vacation abroad, he’d probably just stay at his place.

He was feeling a tad bit doubtful. He knew that your life had been flipped since you had gone abroad for a vacation, so maybe you’d say no. Regardless, he had to ask now. He could be given another assignment at a moment’s notice despite being granted a break, and your training was going to start in a while. He couldn’t afford to not make his feelings known, not with the kind of life he led.

“Hey, listen.” Leon broke the silence that he caused — taking a deep inhale before he continued to voice his thoughts. “I’ve been due for a vacation for a while, and I finally got some time off. I’m planning on taking a short trip.”

“Ah,” you remember a similar conversation, how could you not? You practically memorized every bit of information he told you. You closed your door and leaned against it, not wanting to seem like you were in some hurry to get in. “Italy, right?”

“Yeah.” He confirmed, smiling over the fact that you remembered that detail. “So, here’s the thing. I bought two flight tickets and booked a room for two. If you’re not busy or anything and if it’s not crazy for you to consider then—“

“Yes,” you responded immediately, like it was pure instinct, the word slipped through your mouth before your mind even had time to process it. Maybe it was the lingering adrenaline you still felt from the ride.

He grinned, letting out a huff of amusement. “I didn’t even finish—“

He cut himself off when he felt you cup his face with your hands, you could feel the heat radiating off his skin — like warm and cozy laundry straight out of the drying machine. His Adams apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed thickly, feeling the tension rise when your lips inched towards his.

You were taking the opportunity, afraid it would slip from your fingers like sand if you hesitated for even a second.

“Yes,” you repeated, your voice dropping to a whisper as your eyes searched his. After a few seconds of keeping his arms by his side, he lifted his hands to place them on your hips, coaxing you closer to him.

Leon felt weak to the knees, crumbling at the eye contact before his eyes flitted towards your lips longingly. Closer. He could feel your lips brushing against his, not a kiss just yet, but the contact was there and served as a complete tease.

“Okay,” he murmured out, warm breath fanning against your lips. He tried to keep his voice stable, but the close proximity was killing him. His hands gave your hips a gentle squeeze. “Consider a first-class window seat all yours then.”

“With gourmet meals and all?”

“Mhm,” he couldn’t think—he parted his lips in anticipation for yours. His gaze returned to your eyes, his own were half-lidded, looking like they might shut at any minute in preparation for the kiss.

“I thought you didn’t like being in planes?”

“I don’t,” he replied briefly, this felt like torture. His voice was low and rugged, eyes now closing and head tilting to the side slightly. “But with you by my side, it wouldn’t matter.”

God, he was perfect. You pressed your lips against his and he responded immediately, one of his hands snaked up to gently hold the back of your head and keep you in place. He felt an influx of dopamine hit him right away, losing himself in your suave kiss — he was hooked on your taste, it felt like a drug. Like he’d go through withdrawals if he ever had to go without this sensation again.

One of your hands slid to the back of his neck, your fingers curling around the ends of his hair. It was soft, feeling like silk. Your nails brushed against his skin on the nape of his neck and he shuddered, feeling the remaining air in his lungs vanish. He could keep going though, he’d drown in your kisses and suffocate by the sweet taste and press of your lips without a single complaint.

If love was possible just by a single kiss, then Leon had just gotten struck by an arrow. It continued, kiss after kiss. It felt right. The final piece to a puzzle — the perfect fit.

Not having a death wish, you eventually pulled back for breath. His lips chased yours, drawn to them like a moth to a flame, only pausing when he heard your soft laughter, one that made his heart leap and his eyes open to meet your own. He pressed his forehead against yours, a smile ghosting his lips as he took the moment in. “We’re uh, pretty good at that.”

“Mm, I dunno.” You shrugged out, running your thumb against his bottom lip. “I think we could use some more practice, don’t you?”

It was a clear ploy to continue on with the kissing. He took the bait with a chuckle. “Hey, I’m game. Just do a countdown and I’m ready whenever.”

“Someone’s eager, here goes. One, two, three…”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x gn!reader #leon kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil x reader #resident evil one shot #re4 x reader

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artificial-absinthe · 5 months

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cybervampire au

Cybervampire Megatron feeds on Soundwave

Behold the yet worse pinnacle/ditch of my fall from grace.

I once made a drawing of cybervampire/not dead terrorcon Megatron (like it happened to Airachnid) for an exchange (it's horror type/dead dove I guess because of depiction of mild torture) and now it spawned an AU in my mind.

My old deeply rooted inclinations stemmed new branches and I intend to indulge into them to the worst/best of my ability. Thus, you'll be seeing this my otp, as well as other transformers content, painted in black with the fluids dripping of those thorned stems.

I love vampires, and my mind told me vampire Megatron was as alluring as vampire Airachnid. Furthermore, there's my fascination with Megasound/Megawave. In vampire lore, there's nothing as intimate and sensual as drinking blood, and then it's the perfect pathway to sexless/asexual creatures to get into a sort of not organic erotism (as well as other erotic/fetishist practices but I'll explore that dungeon later on), as I do not embrace the popular fan concepts of humanization (as in organic/primal-instincts derived attributes) in interaction between Cybertronians in love-like relationships.

In this Cybervampire Au, Megatron got infected during the events of "Thirst", but not killed. Then he's some sort of living terrorcon, a vampiricon if you wish (I can imagine Miko naming him like that), just like Airachnid, but, given his tolerance to dark Energon and his synthesis with it, he's now even mightier, and not infectious unless he kills. I explain this as Megatron's systems/biomechanism being somehow different, hence why dark energon works in him conversely to other bots. Given that the coalesced energon that Knockout made contains dark energon, getting infected by its resulting chemical disease/mutation also works out differently in him.

On another regard, the plot of gothic horror where vampire masters control zombies finds its parallel, since Megatron was already able to do that.

As for the Megasound element, I've already suggested the innerent deepness that can be attributed to the act of blood/energon drinking. Specially when its given willingly. The symbolism, the possibilities of sensorial play.

When circumstances lead to this, Soundwave is, of course, honoured to be source of food to his Master, and he submittes himself to an extreme regime of fueling: Only the most refined and purest energon enters his body, so he'll be in optimal condition, therefore high quality and scrumptious food to his Lord. Perhaps he eventually becomes too invested in it, while consciously ignoring the veiled zealousness. No one should take the responsibility but him. No one is more qualified, or as committed to Lord Megatron as himself, therefore is only befitting that his life is laid to him in more than a sense. Everyone else is dubious, capable or prone to betrayal, or inefficient idiots, and like the hell he's letting anyone else have that sort of intimacy with Megatron. Every time Megatron gets overtaken by hunger and tries to take a prey he would be like: "no, my Lord, that scum is suboptimal and inadequate. Here's my neck"

I intend to create and write several works into this Au, with a collection of short stories in Ao3.

#Cybervampire au #Another Universe #Another circle of hell #Aside from the...#Shipping hell #Transformers prime #Tfp #Cybervampire #Tfp Megatron #Tfp Soundwave #Soundwave #Megatron #Vampires #ARTificial Absinthe #Megasound #Megawave #Otp #I'm weird yes

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idcbabyialreadylostmymind · 7 months

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Potions

Pairing- Usopp x reader x Zoro

Summery- Based off this ask

Warnings- drinking, sex pollen (kinda ig??), sex while under the influence, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), penetration

Usopp explored the plethora of booths at the market he got Nami to bring the crew to this specific island for a specific booth. “Ah, here it is!” He spotted the place he had so eagerly sought out.

Although, it was strange he could have sworn the name of the booth he was searching for was Amil’s and not Amel’s but oh well!

Stepping up to the man who stood behind the booth. He greets Usopp. “Ah, good sir! How can I assist you on this fine day?”

“Oh, yes.” Usopp clears his throat, pulling his glasses down covering his eyes as he leans in closer. “You see, I may have heard you have procured a certain strengthening potion.” He tries to sound laid-back, almost tipping over once his arm doesn’t find support on the small booth.

“Oh….” the man's voice trails off as his eyes scanning across his almost empty cart before he sees a random bottle. “This!” He pulls it out eyes trailing over it, he’s been meaning to find someone to take this off his hands.

“And you’re sure this is it?” Usopp eyes the mixture that reminds him of a beer bottle or maybe wine. The red and pink sealant that protected the substance dripped down almost covering the peculiar drawing on the gut of the bottle. Depicting a creature with three heads, one of a goat, one of a human and one of a bull.

The bottle itself definitely didn’t scream potion but never judge a book by its cover y’know.

Salesman's eyes trails down for a sly second before answering, “Yes, of course friend. I would never lie.” Before Usopp could question him any further he quickly gives the price before shoving it into Usopp's hands.

He found the man's behavior odd but didn’t question it as going off to explore the island now that he’s got what he came for, or at least what he thinks.

A few hours later

Walking into the kitchen with Zoro your eyes land on the decorated beer bottle on the table. Usopp sat on the other side, clean glass in hand. He goes to pick it up but you swiftly swipe it up you turn the bottle to its back not caring to look at the label.

“What’s this?” You ask, twisting the cap off the bottle smelling it. A pungent smell hits your senses, nostrils flaring before you hand it off to Zoro, himself smelling it trying to suppress the surprisingly sharp smell.

Usopp debates on whether to tell then he sees you going to take a swig. “A Potion!” He yells reaching for the container. You stop right before the bottle touches your lips, pulling away your cock a brow at the man across the table.

“Potion?” Zoro questions.

“Okay so, a week or so ago I overheard someone talking about a potion so strong it gives you the strength of ten horses, ten horse man! Could you imagine what I could do with the strength of ten horses.” He rambles stopping once he sees the uninterested expressions of the two in front of them. “But it’s rare and could only be found here.” He finishes his rather short explanation you sit the random liquid down.

“And you how this is the exact potion? How?” You ask and Usopp just smiles sheepishly. “Well I mean if it’s not what’s the worst it could do?”

“Uh–I don’t know. Mutate us, shift our bodies. Change out Genders!!” You list out the tame possibilities but Usopp just shrugs as he pulls out two more cups for you and Zoro.

“I mean other than that, what could happen?” Usopp asks, taking the bottle in hand pouring double shots in each cup. The color of the drink was akin to blood and makes you judge their carefree attitude to the strange concoction.

“Zoro what do you think?” You turn to the silent man.

“I mean, I don’t need a strength potion but if it gets me drunk, sure.” Zoro says taking the cup Usopp hands him.

Huffing in annoyance you look down at the cup Usopp offers to you. Rolling your eyes you take it; “Fine, I’ll drink it. But not because both of you are doing it.” You grumble shooting the drink back in one gulp the sappy flavor overcoming your tastebuds.

You all wait for something, anything, to happen. But nothing, no bulging muscles appearing out of thin air, no ghastly mutation. Just a really, really strange taste.

“Well, then let's get this party started.” Usopp sounds disappointed as he pours another drink, this time normal bourbon.

You drink that one rather quickly, wanting to get the strange flavor of the other out of your mouth.

It only takes a few minutes for what you suspect is the ‘potion’ to kick in and it definitely makes you feel something. Your stomach felt queasy all the heat in your body going down.

You look at Usopp, who was already looking at you. You blink a few times, head feeling foggy, “Usopp..” You say stopping mid sentence for some peculiar reason. You want to finish, say ‘are you sure this is a strength potion’ but you can’t focus on anything but Usopp and his lips. When had his lips become so attractive?

“Y/N?” Usopps’ voice was dry making your thigh quiver for a second, Zoro definitely doesn’t miss it watching from the interaction from side taking another sip of bourbon.

You move to sit on your knees in the chair, head tilting to the side, eyes trailing over Usopp, low-lidded eyes, no jacket allowing you to see all of his muscles. With ypur gaurd down, no logical mind to stop think, you grab Usopp by his jaw pulling him into a soft kiss.

His lips felt exactly how you thought they would be, heavenly. The kiss slowly morphed from gentle to hungry. He grabbed the back of your head pulling you closer and guides you to his lap. You pushed deeper into the kiss teasing, testing to see how far he would go. He pulls away from the kiss, both of you gasping for air. His hands gripped your hips, both of you waiting for the other to attack.

You could feel how wet you were, surely your panties were already soaked; at this point you would take anything.

He flips you around sitting you sit in his chair now. His hand moves across the top of your shorts hand dipping inside. Moving your panties to the side slips two fingers teasing your slit before pushing past your folds.

He does a few experimental circles around your clit seeing what made you twitch and twist. “Oh..” you say heat grows through your body like a wildfire taking over a forest. Your legs spread, letting him move deeper, fingers teasing your tight entrance. He pushes inside, quickly opting for two digits he explores your body. Your bodies seemed to be hypersensitive as every touch felt like coals being thrown in a fire. Your hips moved in sync with Usopp's thrust, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

The way your walls pulse around his fingers, Usopp knows you're close.

“Be a good girl and cum,” He whispers, kissing your inner thigh, his slender fingers pumping in and out of you; thumb moving perfectly on your clit. Usopp looks up at Zoro who’s observed the entire situation but has yet to do anything. “If you cum you’ll get Zoros’ cock.” Your walls clench around him. “Oh, poor baby needs some cock.” Zoro mockingly teases, finally speaking once he sees the way your cunt responds at the mention of getting fucked.

And just like that you cum. Body shaking, the air in your throat catches as pure pleasure controls your mind, soul, and body.

Usopp pulls his fingers from you, looking at them they shine with arousal. On a sudden power trip Usopp stands up straight, smirking before shoving his fingers in Zoros’ mouth.

Taken back a bit he eyes Usopp but once your tangy flavor seeps into his mouth he doesn’t mind it, Zoro allows Usopp to have this little ego trip as he cleans you off of his digits.

You wish you could paint this moment, it was beautiful, they were beautiful. Usopp pulls away from Zoros’ warm mouth, fingers whispering against the green haired man’s bottom lip.

Zoro gets up from his seat, not once breaking eye contact with the other male. Usopp gulps once Zoro is at his full height, “Get over there.” Zoro instructs him to stand right next to you.

Allowing Zoro to lay you on the three chairs you once occupied, his lips connect to your neck leaving rough hickeys. Yelping when he hikes your leg up with a deathlike grip your foot hits the bottle knocking it to the ground, the rest of the elixr pouring out.

Zoros’ lips travel down your body, strong hands tearing your shirt down exposing your hardened peaks. He holds them his tongue exploring your chest, his hips moving slowly trying to suffice the need to be in your cunt. You can feel him harden beneath you.

Turning your head back to the spilt bottle your eyes center onto the illustration that covers the label.

You try to place where you’ve seen it before and then it clicks;

Asmodeus. Demon of lust.

Your face twists into a smile as you realize, it was never a strength potion.

You giggle as Zoro rips your bottoms and panties down, tip of his cock slipping and sliding on your soaking pussy. You can’t hold the pornographic cry that falls from your lips once he pushes in, bottoming out in one big thrust.

Zoro kisses you harshly once more if both of you were not under extreme influence you would have thought it gross how both of your saliva gathered as you made love to each others’ mouths.

He pulled away spit string pulling with him. He began to thrust, quickly becoming lost in your tight cavern.

As your body rocked you never lost eye contact with Usopp whose eyes were buglike and his bulging cock sat right in your face.

Moving your hands up you untie Usopps’ slacks letting them fall to the ground the only thing hiding his cock thin briefs. You palmed him biting your lip in anticipation and trying to keep in the moans Zoro seems so adamant to pull out.

He helps you pull his briefs down, his dick springing free. You thrust him in your hand, pre-cum leaking out. Using your thumb swiping over his crown using it as lubricant as you jack him off over your face.

You try to keep up the pace of your hand to Zoros’ thrust but your efforts were in vain making tears well in your eyes, the overwhelming need to please both of them consuming your mind. Opening your mouth you take him in, a raspy sigh leaves Usopp as you hollow your cheeks out, tongue swirling over his tip, egging his hips on to move.

Slowly he does his movements start slowly, his long cock quickly hitting the back of your throat but you take the rest of him.

Your air supply goes tight when he pushes on your throat feeling it wrap around his cock. He slides out letting you suck in as much air with your nostrils as possible before sliding back in. He tries to keep his thrust calm, collected. But it’s just so hard when you feel so good. He fucks your throat hard, almost as hard as Zoro torments your cunt.

Groans falling from the men and the muffled moans that could escape between Usopps’ wild thrust bounce throughout the room.

The coils in your tummy tighten with each thrust from either man. The lightheaded euphoria overtook you, possessing you. Your nerves shock as a volcano inside you erupted. The world went still, your lungs tightened as burning pleasure blasted its way through your body.

Zoro stifled a moan as your pussy spasms around him, he grabs onto Usopp's arm, shoving his face into your neck inhaling your pheromones and with one quick thrust both of them cum. Drinking down the salty liquid that feels your throat your cling to Zoro as he rides his high out.

The men pull out of you both helping to clean you up before all you're left with is silent.

Zoro grabs the bottle that didn’t fall off the table and pours two cups. One for him and one for you.

“Well, that just happened.” Usopp says sitting, shirtless, in his chair.

“Yeah, that did.” You say taking the shot with Zoro.

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spaghettioverdose · 2 months

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The fundamental problem with trying to make tolkien-style fantasy worlds with dwarves, elves, goblins, orcs etc. that aren't racist is that the very premise of this world is "races and race science are real, races can have a race character and some races are better in most ways than all the other ones (except that they can't breed as fast)". The way fantasy races are thought of and treated as, is very much just taking colonial race science categories, exaggerating them and adding magic into the mix. That is an inescapable fact of what fantasy races are and why they're even called races in the first place.

A lot of fantasy racism discourse tends to gravitate around orcs often being inherently evil creatures who mostly exist as dumb brute enemies to be slaughtered at will, but I've personally seen less mention of the fact their role in the stories and games is to essentially represent The Barbarian Oriental Hordes and The Savages. This becomes very apparent if you look at the way they are designed. The good guy human faction has cathedrals, churches, temples, priests and clerics. The orcs have tents, totems and shamans.

This also applies to elves. The high elves are basically always some sort of tall, blonde, white skinned ubermensch who are vastly better than everyone in most ways except breeding (almost always borders on some sort of great replacement theory type shit). Wood elves are almost entirely the noble savage trope.

In almost all cases they also get a racial character where for example the high elves are depicted being smart, elegant, speak in an eloquent and flowery way and have all sort of other behaviours baked into them. Orcs are framed to be stupid, brutish, have no appreciation for art (their totems and paintings don't get counted because they are "savage" and "primitive") and are naturally destructive.

The only real way to avoid the racist tropes of fantasy effectively is to drop the whole race aspect of it. And this doesn't mean that you need to have a regular-human-only setting. You can still have a guy with pointy ears but just without framing them as a race of people. As an example, the fantasy setting I've been working on (on occasion) doesn't have races but it does have people with pointy ears, multiple eyes or other stuff like that. In this setting it is due to mutation and transformation brought through magic in one way or another. Some through using magic, others through curses.

#long post #fantasy

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optreee · 4 months

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*Gyeongseong Creature spoilers*

Been really enjoying this series despite the sub-par CGI (but I’ve watched enough Korean content to know that their CGI is not great so I’ve accepted it).

Perhaps this was common knowledge already (I don’t read Korean entertainment news, so I don’t know), but the allegory of the “rape of Korea” through the symbolism of the creature has been interesting to think about. In the drama, the creature is created when a Japanese scientist forces Joseon women to consume/drink the Najin—a tiny, white organism (not unlike sperm/semen)—causing them to mutate into a terrifying, vicious creature that indiscriminately kills everyone and sucks out their brains.

The creature seems to symbolize the Korean idea of “Han”/한. “Han”/한 is a concept in Korean culture, when a group or an individual has internalized trauma, sorrow, resentment, and anger from unresolved injustice, brewing for generations without resolution or a chance for one to be at peace. It’s akin to the idea of vengeance—or the deep-seated angst that compels someone towards revenge/vengeance. The concept of “Han”/한 is said to have come about during the Japanese occupation period, so it seems that the creature is a symbol of how this deeply internalized resentment and anger of feeling wronged and taken advantage of can completely mutate a person towards vengeful, bloody hatred.

I’ve read that mentioning past Japanese atrocities can get Korean actors/actresses black-listed by the Japanese government and market, and I also heard that the two leads in this drama were fully prepared for that. I had wondered why they would be willing to risk so much for a fantasy drama, but now I’m starting to realize that it might be because they believed this was an important story to tell. (I haven’t watched any interviews or anything by the drama leads so I’m speculating…). Though the creature in the drama is a fantasy, the horrible things that people did to one another during the occupation period depicted in the show are largely true. And now with the added allegory/symbolism of the creature as the “Han”/한 of the Korean people, I’m very much convinced that this drama offers much more than meets the eye.

Regardless of the political messaging, it’s a really well-made show with an ensemble cast. I’m also so impressed by the all-Korean cast learning to act in Japanese so fluently. The show is very interesting, well-acted, and Park Seo-Joon as the male lead inserts just the right amount of levity to make it entertaining but without drawing attention away from the deeper message of the film.

Can’t wait for Jan 5th when the rest of the series comes out!

#gyeongseong creature #경성크리처 #netflix #k drama #korean drama #park seo joon #han so hee

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carionto · 4 months

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The Revitalization League of Extinct Sports

Documentation!

Every culture and civilization creates mountains of records of all kinds, though sadly the ones that have the highest chance of surviving beyond the ages are also prone to retain the least amount of complete information.

Wear and tear of physical mediums is unavoidable, no matter the precautions and measures taken. Thus there are countless organizations and individuals dedicated to finding, preserving and restoring information that has been lost to time.

One such group aims to recover the lost art of athletics, physical competitions, and exercises of pure strength and speed. The results have been...

mixed.

Their primary sources of "inspiration" have been ancient print media depicting the lives of a subgroup of Humans called 'Alpha Males', though DNA analysis has yet to identify a consistent genetic code to substantiate their actual existence. Nevertheless, there are quite a few depictions from a limited spectrum of Human history of these Alphas engaged in a variety of dangerous activities.

Some speculate that it was a mutation that had a predisposition towards recklessness and so if these Alphas truly were a Human sub-variant at some point, their nature made them extinct within just the span of a few generations. However, their exploits have survived to this day and age, and the Revitalization League of Extinct Sports has replicated these, within reason, of course.

This particular display of strength and endurance, has been named "Naked and Ferocious". The goal of this activity, we speculate, was to showcase ones individual prowess against a seemingly inferior opponent of another species, but who had numbers on their side.

Events often seen in nature, where the goal is survival, are sometimes reintroduced by a society where such conflict has been eliminated to maintain some connection with their origins, to never forget the cruel reality that awaits should civilization collapse, or most commonly a simple showcase of strength for personal ego reasons.

The League, naturally, cannot offer one to fight actual living creatures, that would simply be too chaotic and dangerous for everyone involved. Plus laws exist, but only because to some the obvious problems are, apparently, not obvious. What they offer instead are robotic replicas, as lifelike as the real deal, but programmed to either not cause any harm, or if the participant signs a warrant, limited harm.

It's... quite popular among some crowds. Of Humans mostly. It can be a little, actually, a lot off-putting to see a bare chested Human crush a mechanical creature MADE OF METAL that kinda resembles some members of the Galactic Coalition.

Humans are incredibly terrifying, no matter what they do or if they even have access to their literal planet destroying machines or just their own bodies.

The creativity of destruction knows no bounds.

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #humanity fuck yeah #carionto #i heard a podcast mention these Mens Life covers and had to look them up #say what you will about the culture of the time but these artists knew how to draw burly shirtless men fighting small animals

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 months

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How Magic Works in Harry Potter? And More Specifically What is Dark Magic?

So, Dark Magic in Harry Potter's Wizarding World is really vague. Like, it's loosely defined as:

“The Dark Arts, also known as Dark Magic, or Dark Side was a term that referred to any type of magic that was mainly used to cause harm to, exert control over, or even kill people and creatures.”

(From Harry Potter Wiki)

Yet, Spells like Obliviate, are not considered dark, even though they compromise free will and exert control. Diffendo, incendio, decendo, and the like are not dark, even if they can be used to cause harm. The resurrection potion from Voldemort's resurrection is considered Dark Magic even though it itself only heals.

So, what actually is the definition of Dark Magic and what is it? How does it differ from other spells?

Well, I think I have a possible answer.

I started trying to figure out what dark magic is, by collecting what we know about it from the books:

What We're Told

“The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible.”

(Severus Snape, Half-Blood Prince, page 177)

We actually don't have a legal definition for the Dark Arts in the books. Just the words of Dumbledore and Hagrid of how corrupting they are and how Dark Wizards don't feel love. Even though the Malfoys clearly love each other, Snape loved Lily, and Harry is capable of both love and two out of three Unforgivable Curses. So clearly, that isn't the case.

I've seen the fandom try to define the magic by its intention, like in the quote from the wiki above. But, if we look at what spells are defined as dark and those that are not, solely based on their goal and intention — the water gets pretty murky.

As I mentioned before, Diffendo and Incendio can cause harm, and Oblivate always takes away someone's free will. Hurcruxs are considered Dark Magic, but they don't harm anyone in themselves. The creation of them does, but they themselves don't (at least, that's not their intention or main use). Feindfyre, a spell considered Advanced Dark Magic, while can be used to harm beings, is mostly depicted as harming property, hence deviating from the definition as well.

Many jinxes, hexes, and curses are for some reason are not treated as Dark and are treated as legal (reducto, jelly leg jinx, dancing jinx, etc) even though they are only used to cause harm and aren't versatile in their use cases like incendio, for example, that can be used for light or cooking as well.

Most illegal Dark Magic (including the three Unforgivables) are only illegal against unwilling beings, therefore, using Avada Kedavra on a mouse or spider is perfectly legal. Same as using the Imperious Curse on a person who gave you permission to use it. As we see with Moody (Barty) in Goblet of Fire.

So, clearly, the difference between Dark Arts and any other magic isn't in its intended use, since this is far too inconsistent. Besides, casting a Jelly-Leg Jinx is the same as casting an Expelliarmus Spell, you need the same things — wand movement, incantation, and magic.

"Ah, but what about the Unforgivables, you need to mean them, don't you?"

Yes, you do, I'm getting to that:

How Magic Works in Harry Potter's Wizarding World?

So, if it isn't the use of the spells that defines them as dark, maybe it's how they are cast.

After all, it makes more sense to define spells and magic by the how of it and not the what. Especially when new spells keep getting created.

So let's look at the average not dark spell, for our example, we'll take Harry's favored Expelliarmus (even though he casts many other spells and we only see him cast Expelliarmos 12 times in the books).

Like all spells we see, the Disarming Charm requires 3 components to cast:

Intent - What - The intention and will of the caster to disarm their opponent.

Form - How - The way the spell should do it, make the wand fly from the openent's hand.

Energy - Magic - the power to fuel the spell.

Intent is what always exists, it's wishing for your magic to extend your will into the world. This is the main component of childhood accidental magic. It's what makes accidental magic so unpredictable. Like in Prisoner of Azkaban — Harry wished for Aunt Marge to shut up and a glass blew up in her hand (later she blew up too). He didn't consciously choose to do it, since there was no form, just intent and energy:

Outside in the hall, he [Harry] leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. It had been a long time since he’d lost control and made something explode.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 26)

The form is defined by the wand movement and the incantation for the spell but can be accomplished by enough focus without (silent and wandless casting). Hence, why silent/wandless casting is harder, without a wand you need to focus on directing your magic to the right task, and without an incantation you need to rely on your mental focus to tell your magic how to accomplish the task.

And magic is just that — the wizard's magic.

Actually, potions in the wizarding world work like this too, except the incantation and wand movement are replaced with ingredients and the brewing process. (The ingredients for potions take a bit after some theories from irl Alchemy that I might delve into at some point)

Most spells, including jinxes and transfiguration spells, work the same way. They have intention, form, and energy and that is all they need to be cast.

But, as we mentioned before, the Unforgivables are different, they aren't just any spell:

“Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy? You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain — to enjoy it — righteous anger won't hurt me for long — I'll show you how it is done, shall I?”

(Order of the Pheonix, page 810)

Emotion as a Component of Spellcasting

That extra oomph missing from Harry's Crotiatus Curse is emotion. I mentioned how emotion is a component of certain magic and effects certain spells in this post. I'll expand on this here.

Accidental magic is affected by emotions, we saw it with Aunt Marge and with Dudley, Harry noticed it himself:

every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry

(Philosopher's Stone, page 44)

Harry's magic reacts to his emotions. It acts up when he is angry or upset and he noticed it even before he knew about the Wizarding World and magic.

“What does a Patronus look like?” said Harry curiously. “Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it.” “And how do you conjure it?” “With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory.”

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 237)

The Patronus Charm requires happiness as the emotion. The memory is to get the emotion, but when we see Harry casting the charm later, he rarely focuses on a memory. No, he just focuses on feeling happy.

And we see emotion effecting other spells. Remeber Expelliarmos, a spell that doesn't require emotion? Well, the books actually answer on what happens if you cast a spell that doesn't require an emotional component with emotion:

Harry reached his wand just in time. Lockhart had barely raised his, when Harry bellowed, “Expelliarmus!” Lockhart was blasted backward, falling over his trunk; his wand flew high into the air; Ron caught it, and flung it out of the open window. “Shouldn’t have let Professor Snape teach us that one,” said Harry furiously, kicking Lockhart’s trunk aside. Lockhart was looking up at him, feeble once more. Harry was still pointing his wand at him.

(Chamber of Secrets, pages 275-276)

Harry casts Expelliarmos at Lockhart when he's furious, that anger, that's what causes Lockhart to stumble back. A regular Expelliarmos disarms, and an angry one also pushes the opponent back.

Harry made up his mind in a split second. Before Snape could take even one step toward him, he had raised his wand. “Expelliarmus!” he yelled — except that his wasn’t the only voice that shouted. There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 361)

An emotional Expelliarmos can even knock someone out completely. Snape's wand wasn't even disarmed.

And of course, the unforgivables require emotion, they require the true desire to harm — anger:

“I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

(Deathly Hollows, page 502)

So, we can see very clearly that emotion affects magic. Some spells require it (like the Patronus Cham and the Unforgivable Curses) and even spells that don't require it, change when casting them with emotion.

A Clear Mind as a Component of Spellcasting

But, when I started thinking about emotion as a component of spellcasting, I realized there was another one — A clear mind.

“Only Muggles talk of ‘mind reading.’ The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter . . . or at least, most minds are. . . .” He smirked. “It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so utter falsehoods in his presence without detection.”

(Order of the Pheonix, pages 530-531)

Occupancy requires the opposite of the Crutiuatus Curse. It requires shutting down your emotions and clearing your mind alongside the three basic components I mentioned above.

“Clear your mind, Potter,” said Snape’s cold voice. “Let go of all emotion. . . .” But Harry’s anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let go of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs. . . . “You’re not doing it, Potter. . . . You will need more discipline than this. . . . Focus, now. . . .”

(Order of the Phoenix, page 535)

It requires focus and letting go of emotion. This is exactly why Harry struggled so much with Occlumancy because he is a very emotional character (mostly angry).

I'd argue magic like Legilemancy and Divination also require a clear and focused mind. Along with Fiendfyre:

“Fiendfyre-cursed fire—it’s one of the substances that destroy Horcruxes, but I would never, ever have dared use it, it’s so dangerous—how did Crabbe know how to—?”

(Deathly Hollows, page 537)

Hermione calls this dark curse incredibly dangerous, and for good reason, it's incredibly hard to control. So fickle and hard to control it killed Crabbe who cast it in that scene. It makes Fiendfyre seem closer to Occlumancy than to the Unforgivables in how it is cast, since it requires a focused mind to control it, and not to become emotional.

So what does all this have to do with the Dark Arts?

Well, simple, clearly magic in the Harry Potter universe can be divided into three categories:

Regular - spells that require only intent, form, and energy, like Expelliarmos, Alohamora and Diffendo. Almost all spells fall into this category.

Emotional - spells that require a strong emotion to power them besides the three components of regular magic. Like the Patronus Charm and the Unforgivable Curses.

Focused - spells that require a clear and focused mind besides the three components of regular magic. Like Occlumancy and Fiednfyre.

Great, so we have some spell categories, but Dark Magic doesn't really fit in any of them, as all three categories include spells considered legally dark. Well, like with anything in Harry Potter, I decided to go into the linguistics of the word "dark" in the English language.

Well, if we go back enough, the word "dark" comes from the Proto-Indo-European word "dʰerǵʰ" meaning (among other things): "firm", "strong", or "robust". This can definitely reference the strong emotion required for certain spells.

But what really sold me on this, is the linguistic origin of the word "light", which came from the Proto-Indo-European word "lewk", meaning: bright, to shine, and to see. It was used interchangeably with the word "beh" that is used to mean: "bright" or "to glow" and in literature used as the word "focus" or "clear".

Conclusions

So, my headcanon/theory was that dark magic, once upon a time just referred to the magic that required a strong emotion. Over the years with language evolving and words changing their meaning, and political agenda it became the dark magic we are familiar with from the books. A lot of how dark magic is treated seems to be political though and has very little to do with the actual components of the magic or magical theory.

The fact the Unforgivables were only defined as such and outlawed in 1717 suggests that the views the characters in the books have on dark magic are fairly recent. It means that Dark Magic, at least, by the time the books take place is more of a legal definition than a magical definition. It's basically an umbrella term to define harmful magic the ministry outlaws or regulates.

Honestly though, if I lived in their world I'd be more concerned with love potions than with supposedly dark petty jinxes, but, what can one do.

#harry potter #harry potter theory #harry potter thoughts #hollowedtheory #hp theory #overthinking #wizarding world #wizarding world of harry potter #dark magic #hp #hp thoughts

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smolbluegoblin · 6 months

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alright, Burrow's End conspiracy theories time!

what we learned is that the Blue is affecting everything in a radius around the "Second Sun" located at the grey rectangle rock - most likely a human structure as depicted on the DM screen. The "non-bears" Ava described are most likely vehicles, since (like the bear) they move around carrying smaller creatures inside and kicking up dust while doing so. The creatures described by Thorn look like humans with gas masks and hazmat suits on.

(which, might I add, is so fucking cool because seeing humans through another creature's eyes really is an eldritch horror experience, Lovecraft move over we have @quiddie now)

Two things jumps out to me straight away: the Meadow and the dust storm.

The Meadow was full of blue flowers, but also seems like it was protected by electricity somehow (the lighting coming from the earth). Was it electric fences ? A force field ? Why would humans protect flowers ?

Now, the dust storm is weird. Sure, a truck (or multiples) can kick off a lot of dust, but not enough to kill MOST OF THE STOATS in the Red Warren. The damages it dealt means it was more than dust in there, and when Viola remembered the dust cloud from the end of Episode 1, Aabria added something about it being kicked off "on purpose". Was the purpose to get rid of the stoats? To empty out the forest of threats like the parasited bear ?

Another detail I saw in Episode 3 is when Izzy asked if she was able to read English, Aabria confirmed the humans language isn't English because she "doesn't want the events to be able to be attached to a real place". So the events probably are inspired by multiple real life events but she wanted to be cool about it and have creative liberty and not tie it to a specific setting and have people in the comments calling out inaccuracies the whole time (which... fair)

Finally, with next week's teaser and Viola's vision of seeing her kids in a grey smooth stole burrow, we can assume that the facility has been abandoned by humans and reclaimed by stoats. All of that is speculative since the next episode isn't out yet though.

With all of this new info, here's my theory:

The Blue is the consequence of a human-made thing that went out of hands. Is it radiation? Pollution? Something else? Don't know yet. But it's airborne and has affected an entire perimeter around the facility and the creatures within it.

Humans don't seem to approach the Blue without hazmat suits, and protect the area with electricity, either to keep stuff from coming into the area, or to avoid affected creatures to leave the area. (the Meadow was described as far south in relation of the second sun so it might be around the border of the area ?)

A recent expedition into the polluted area kicked off a lot of dust, and the concentration of Blue killed the weaker stoats: elders and children. It might also be a gas that was spread by humans to quell the number of animals in the area, because they know they've been affected (sapience, mutations) and want a clear path to go back into the area without much threat.

The epicenter of the Blue, the facility, since it was deserted, has been used by stoats because the Blue gives them powers; it made them intelligent, capable of some sort of magic, so why not go closer to the source of their power ?

The whole situation makes me think of some ecological disasters - Chernobyl being front and center - with these mutations and invisible force/enemy. Maybe the zone was evacuated of human presence for a long time, leaving the stoats to develop their society (irl stoats are very territorial and don't like to share quarters after all). But maybe they're coming back and menacing the family with their presence and activities. Maybe the stoats were an experiment that escaped when the Blue happened ? Maybe they were just affected by it the most out of all animals for some reason ?

I mean, I can spin theories all I want, but at the end of the day these stoats have invented a writing system so it might be all for nothing and Aabria is a mastermind operating beyond the scope of our minds

#burrow's end #burrows end #burrows end spoilers #burrow's end spoilers #dimension 20 #aabria iyengar #dropout tv #dimension 20 spoilers #brennan lee mulligan #izzy roland #siobhan thompson #erika ishii #rashawn scott #jasper william cartwright #stoatal recall

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sepublic · 10 months

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What if we reimagined all of the other non-Teridax Makuta as eldritch horrors, just as Teridax was initially presented in the early years of Bionicle? What if we used each Makuta as a prompt of sorts; What if THEY were the big villain terrorizing an island, their individual name unknown so they’re just THE Makuta to the local Toa and Matoran? Make each one feel worthy of the title of Makuta, with their depictions in Karda Nui being akin to physical, humanoid avatars meant to interact with others, just as the scheming Teridax is like for the vortex from MNOG?

Like for example, Chirox! You have this swarm of spiders known as the Visorak, led by one massive spider, known as Makuta. The Visorak mutate their victims, before dragging them back to their master.

Makuta is a spider-like entity that emerges from a cave, using his spindly limbs to grapple with and analyze his victims... Potentially drawing upon them for inspiration, before tearing and prying them apart into their base pieces, adding them to his massive collection. From these recycled parts, Makuta creates more Visorak, or dreaded Rahi creatures that wreak havoc on the ecosystem. Like Makuta, they are poison, destruction incarnate; They always inherit his twisted spirit that destroys.

That’s all Makuta does, even when he does create; He inevitably just destroys. Instead of coming up with new things on his own, he relies on Fate to mutate the living into something random, hoping chance will eventually grant him a working design for Makuta to copy. You could say Makuta has no real ideas of his own, and is a gambler, a parasite, betting something will come along for him to take.

But isn’t destruction the same as creation, isn’t destroying his victims necessary to make things? That’s where the imagery of the spider comes into play; Its long, spindly limbs? They’re fingers. Makuta is not just a spider, he is a hand; The same hand that reaches into the parts bin to make new creations, plays with MoCs before tearing them apart to make something new. Just as Teridax represents the parts bin, Chirox is the builder’s hand, like in the Lego Movie, or Super Smash Bros.

Each Visorak is like a hand of its own, grabbing victims, reassembling them randomly with mutation. Dragging them back to Chirox, whose hand motif is also inspired from the fact that he is the only Makuta who can fully control his Shadow Hand. And Makuta’s spider-like form? It’s attached to something much, MUCH bigger... It is not just a hand metaphorically, it is a literal hand and when Makuta’s lair collapses around him, it reveals the massive figure he is attached to; His whole, true self, a titan more resembling the Chirox we are familiar with.

The others are different angles and facets to approach the myth, the legend of the Makuta; Different re-imaginings, just as people came up with their own G3 and their own take on Makuta. Just like the Makuta contest we had for G2. Vamprah can represent the animalistic side of Makuta; The raging, kicking, screaming beast he was once described as by Vakama. The apex predator, for if his minions are the Rahi beasts, he is the greatest of them all.

Or Bitil! A temporal entity, haunted by his past selves, constantly summoned by his future self. Always going through different iterations, just as a MoC is frequently edited, redone, rebuilt; You can track his transformation, his evolution across his many selves; Makuta represents the existential horror of the timeline, of the way things change. A ghost of the past, and also a vision of the future. If the Vahi is central to the tale of Bionicle as the Mask of Time, what about Makuta as someone who constantly exploits and distorts this force?

Those are some of my initial ideas. Makuta needn’t always be this faceless force of nature, they can be a humanized figure, like Krika, who can be a sympathetic, tragic villain doomed by the narrative, consigned to his role and aware of it as part of a meta discussion; Miserix is the mighty dragon our knights must slay; The Makuta of Stelt, a land of merchants and commerce, the all-consuming force of corporatism that stifles creativity, or a bargaining devil. Gorast is a fanatical priestess hoping to bring in a new age, Mutran the quintessential mad scientist who played god and flew too close to the sun in his obsession.

Spiriah is a corrupt lord seething over his failures, who transformed and resents his people the Skakdi and must be rebelled against; Tridax is a multiversal collector providing commentary on adaptations; The Vortixx hope to harness the ultimate weapon that is Antroz; Kojol is the arcane keeper of knowledge like Lucifer, who stole the Light of enlightenment from the land of thinkers and is burned for it; And Icarax? A completely straightforward dark lord to conquer, as he always intended to be. Each plays the role of Makuta, as the final villain, the ultimate evil who started this conflict, whom our protagonists must rise to eventually vanquish.

#bionicle #makuta #brotherhood of makuta #chirox #vamprah #bitil #krika #miserix #makuta of stelt #gorast #mutran #spiriah #Tridax #antroz #kojol #icarax

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calder · 4 months

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super mutant coverage from Nukapedia's page on Disability representation. for better or worse. feedback welcome

The Children of the Cathedral are a cult in the ruins of L.A. who mutate and torture their congregants and captives to various ends, forever changing their bodies and minds. Some are transformed into pliable servitors through torturous consecration--an honor second only to baptism, the metamorphic birth of super mutants through the transformative FEV vats at Mariposa to the north.

Most super mutants are mentally impaired, but generally capable of reason. They are infertile due to their quad-helix DNA, which factors heavily into the main plot. All super mutants encountered in Fallout are slaves to the Master, so they are generally inclined to attack to the player, but almost (if not) all of them can be spoken to under specific circumstances.

Harry is a voiced mutant with a simplistic, childlike manner of speaking. If the Vault Dweller kills the various super mutants in the area, he will avenge each of his friends by name in combat, and mourn one as his brother.[1][2] If the player has already destroyed the vats, he will only ask to be left alone.[3][4]

When the Master is killed, super mutants flee the region out of fear.[5] For decades thereafter, baptized survivors of the Cathedral remained shunned from human society. Even those living in far-away rehabilitory seclusion are subjected to harassment, defamation, displacement, and genocide, engineered by the NCR government.[6]

These details contrast some later depictions of super mutants as interchangeable and inherently hyper-violent creatures incapable of peace.

Super mutants derived from prime normals (unirradiated humans) tend to exhibit hyper-intelligence, or at least normal cognitive function.

The mutant Lou Tenant speaks with a highly sophisticated and dramatic voice due to his hyper-intelligence. No other super mutant in the setting has exhibited this affected style of speech.

Some adherents are altered in a chemical process called "consecration."[7][8] The survivors of this process, though apparently human, are rendered insane.[9][10] The cult honors them as the "servitor" class, but non-believers pejoratively refer to them as "zombies" for their inability to think normally. Most of these "zombies" zealously espouse the cult's propaganda and show little individuality.

The servitor Dane is kept in the Inner Sanctum. He suffers terribly from disturbing hallucinations as a result of his consecration.[7] He converses with himself at length in two distinct intonations. At one point, he derides himself as a "schizo bastard."[11] He also experiences periods of lucidity, and begs the Vault Dweller to kill Father Lasher for his abuse of Calder the Flower Child.

Nightkin are the most exalted of the Cathedral's castes. Psychically inclined, they serve as high-level guards and military officers. They use Stealth Boys to stay invisible at all times, even when alone in their private quarters at night. A small library at the Cathedral is occupied only by nightkin, and a computer can be found in the nightkin barracks. The Master is able to communicate with them telepathically. Dane claims to hear the nightkin crying.

In Fallout 2, most super mutants live peacefully at Broken Hills, a settlement where all sorts of humans and mutants are welcome.

In Brotherhood of Steel, all the super mutants (such as Attis), are infertile. This is a key aspect of the game's plot, as the Attis Army are seeking a cure for their infertility.

Most super mutants are mentally disabled.

Several potential health and ability issues are indicated by a scene which depicts a super mutant relieving himself while flailing his arms above his head and screaming, as he blasts the back tank of a closed toilet from several feet away with an unthinkable procession of urine too visually graphic to further describe.[Video 1]

All super mutants in Fallout 3 except for Fawkes and Uncle Leo are portrayed as ravenous cannibals barely capable of speech. Fawkes is ostracized by the super mutants of Vault 87 for displaying complex thought. If the player eavesdrops on super mutant enemies, they seem to be constantly confused and angry.

Jacobstown functions as a haven and rehabilitation center for super mutants, especially the nightkin who are suffering from schizophrenia due to prolonged Stealth Boy usage. Two doctors reside here, hoping to find some way to help them medically with their mental struggles.

Lily Bowen, a nightkin herself and resident of Jacobstown, is an elderly woman with dementia. She frequently mistakes the Courier for her grandchild (Jimmy or Becky depending on the gender) and also suffers schizophrenia like most nightkin. Taking damage may cause her to lapse into violent behavior, similar to mood swings, during which she claims to be guided by a voice she calls "Leo." Her companion quest focuses on getting Lily to either take her medication consistently (to help control her psychosis and silence "Leo"), or stop taking it altogether (later resulting in "Leo" completely taking over and Lily becoming violently psychotic, perhaps permanently).

The mutant separatist Tabitha suffers from mania. She also seems to have some degree of dissociative identity disorder. A robot named Rhonda helps her manage the symptoms of her mental conditions. With Rhonda disabled, Tabitha's mental condition is deteriorating.

Tabitha's Black Mountain mutants are presented as a violent parallel faction to the peaceful community of Jacobstown.

A super mutant named Neil guards the pass to Black Mountain, and warns people to stay away for their own safety, especially at night. He maintains his post simply because he is in a position to prevent violence on a significant scale. Neil is not mentally disabled, and will not tolerate microaggressions pertaining to his condition, both out of self-respect and respect for differently abled metamorphic people. He is quick to forgive those who apologize, but any other option will result in him terminating the conversation.

The presentation of Tabitha as a violent nightkin with a comedic low-detail blond wig has been criticized as falling into cheap, antiquated tropes related to disabled and queer people. The depiction of Gail in Fallout 76 as a benevolent, dignified super mutant woman with mental disabilities has been praised in comparison.

The nightkin Dog and God has been called a portrayal of dissociative identity disorder. Both identities are aware of the other. Each desires complete control over the body and refers to losing agency to the other as being "put in the cage/basement." The nightkin's story ends with either an act of suicide that kills the body and both identities with it, one personality taking over permanently, or the Courier helping to create a new unified identity.

This new identity is, in turn, struck with amnesia, unable to recall any details of that which transpired before its synthesis.

Fans with similar conditions have suggested that the presentation of efficaciously "resolving" this person into a single personality to "unlock their good ending" is a simplistic and clichéd character arc. It presents the character's mind and identity as something to be immediately "solved" by a manipulative stranger, in the form of a life-changing ego death triggered by a single violent and traumatizing event. The relatively complex presentation of fellow nightkin character Lily has been praised in comparison.

Dead Eye is a blind super mutant who lives with a larger group of mutants.

Super mutants are once again depicted as disorganized cannibals who live only to pillage.[23] The only conversant super mutant characters (aside from the isolated case of Virgil) are Strong and Erickson, both of who were othered by their immediate groups for expressing different and/or complex thought. Super mutants in the Commonwealth can be seen impulsively carrying out suicide bombings using mini nukes, despite canonically having no ideology[23] or even an apparent internal hierarchy apart from leadership by strength.

Strong, a potential companion, became very interested in a line from MacBeth when Rex Goodman was captured while trying to teach it to the super mutants, though it seems he simply became fixated on the notion that "the milk of human kindness" was a literal physical liquid hidden somewhere in the world that confers the "power of humans" on the drinker; Strong believes he could find and drink this milk to become stronger. He was imprisoned along with Rex by Fist for this. He never particularly expresses a deeper comprehension of the literary themes of MacBeth past his obsession with finding the milk of human kindness.

Erickson became a survivalist after splitting from his group on the Island. He claims the Fog helped him "think straight," which made him unable to continue working for his brutal leader. He is the only super mutant in Fallout 4 to be seen speaking with proper syntax except for Virgil.

Virgil is a former Institute scientist who deliberately turned himself into a super mutant to survive in the Glowing Sea and hopes to reverse his condition. He retains his intelligence but suffers from anger issues. He also has difficulty articulating the use of his hands.

The super mutant merchant Grahm was arguably the only non-robotic NPC in Fallout 76 at launch. He travels with a brahmin he calls "Chally the moo-moo," apparently unable to pronounce the name "Charlie."

Gail is a super mutant woman who lives among the Core crew of the Crater Raiders. She is singularly concerned with protecting the human child Ra-Ra. She finds humans very annoying and confusing. She casually admits to not understanding some events which happen around her.

Ra-Ra mentions that she wants to grow up to be like Meg and Gail, suggesting that she sees both as powerful and dignified women.

Her design has no elements which might frame her masculine physicality as comedic, or imply she is "crazy."

Maul is a super mutant who exhibits the typical simplified speech and love of mayhem, but concerns himself with intellectual pursuits such as video games and comics. He wears a small pair of glasses, and he may respond to dialogue prompts with nonverbal scoffs. Maul is an archetypical "comic book guy" character, and accordingly resembles an autistic RPG fan. Like Gail, Maul finds humans and their interests to be obnoxious and inscrutable, and makes no attempt to hide his contempt for the player character.

Maul infodumps about his special interest fictions. His favorite IP seems to be Grognak the Barbarian.

Some of his analysis of fictional situations reveals a difficulty understanding social cues.

At times, his descriptions of the video game adaptation evoke discussions of soulslike games.

Contrasting his vocal misanthropy, he expresses great affinity for animals. He considers himself a dog person, because 'cat require more patience than Maul prepared to give.' If Maul had cats, he would name them Bramble and Zil.

#super mutant #fnv #fallout 76

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