#and his only chance to make it out of his personal hell on earth alive has just been taken away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

galaxy-fleur · 3 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ Thoughtful Care ˎˊ˗

Pairing: RE2R!Leon/gn!reader. Summary: After escaping the hell on Earth that was Racoon City, you are now stuck in a dingy motel room that will be your safe haven for the time being. As you and your little group try to get your bearings together, you get a chance to spend some much-needed alone time with Leon after your eventful night together. As it turns out, tending to one's wounds is a more intimate experience than you thought. Word Count: <17k words; AO3 link. Notes: One use of Y/N, switching POV, some mutual pining, kissing, you take care of Leon's wounds, brief discussion of Ada, Claire and Sherry cameo. Credit: divider by @/saradika-graphics.

Life is a mysterious thing. You haven't ever considered yourself to be someone particularly special. You were always just an ordinary person, with a pretty ordinary life, and ordinary problems someone your age would typically be dealing with. You never once thought of that as something worthy being upset about. Being ordinary meant having your life in order. It meant that your daily routine was comfortable for you. Pleasant. Safe. Small daily problems that keep your mind occupied are really not appreciated enough. There is a very fragile feeling of peace in worrying over not being late to work tomorrow, or what to buy for lunch.

A very fragile feeling of peace that was forever broken for you in a single, horrible night.

You definitely never anticipated yourself to end up in the middle of some deadly outbreak straight out of a horror movie. Sure, you may have joked around with friends on how you would do in a horror story once or twice, but that was the extent of it. Jokes. Make-belief. You can indulge in fantasies about anything while you are safe and sound, however insane those fantasies may be. It's a completely different story when you are suddenly forced to shoot someone who is neither dead nor alive.

There were some that you even recognized.

A cute baker boy you remember complimenting on his new haircut during your visit to Racoon City a few months back.

A young teacher fresh out of college who shared many meaningful conversations with you near the Orphanage.

An elderly neighbor you once helped cross the street, after which he kindly invited you for tea next time you'll come to visit.

A promise that was never to be fulfilled now. And realizing that you would probably end up among them if you didn't move out of the city was... chilling, to say the least.

Racoon City, once a place of many fond memories for you, has now become nothing but a living, gruesome nightmare that you will likely never forget. A part of you still wonders how you even managed to keep yourself alive through it all in the first place. But, somehow, you did. In part, due to a very fortunate encounter with a rookie cop who seemed to have arrived in the city not long after you. You barely spent a day in there, yet it felt like a lifetime. But despite everything fate threw your way, you two remained united, only briefly forced apart from each other, but ultimately rejoined again.

At the end of the day, it felt good to at least not be alone in this. To know that someone has your back. Heck, even simply having someone there to talk to made things just a tiny bit easier. Navigating the blood-stained corridors of the ruined Police Station on your own would have made you lose your mind for sure.

Survival is not a pretty nor heroic endeavor. You've lost people. In fact, you'd say that you've lost way more than you've saved. Your heart has been permanently stained by witnessing so much senseless death and violence in such a short time. At least you have shared this awful stain with Leon. And it's always easier to share a burden than to carry it alone.

In the end, while you didn't achieve anything world-changing or save the city, you managed to escape together, relatively safe and sound. Despite being battered, covered in blood and grime, you two at least have the privilege of living another day. One that not many share, sadly.

You even managed to reunite with a pair of other survivors along the way - Claire and Sherry - who clearly had their own stories of shared survival to tell. So, you all made the decision to stick together from then on. Each of the four of you with their own scars to bear, whether physical or mental.

Tired, and a bit lost on what to do next, you all decided to spend the day at the nearest shabby motel. To get some much-needed rest before deciding on what to do next. Not the most ideal of places, but after the night you had, a clean bed to sleep in and a safe room with no metallic stench of blood clinging to your nostrils, was more than enough to feel relieved. Although it was rather cramped with all four of you huddling to share the compact space you've been given. But it was also an undeniable source of comfort to not be alone. Furthermore, your body was so utterly exhausted that you couldn't really afford to be picky.

In fact, you're pretty sure that you blacked out as soon as your head hit the pillow. All four of you shared that same sentiment, it seems. You all slept through the entire day and most of the night, your drained minds and bodies hungry for precious hours of peace and safely.

When next morning came, Claire went out with Sherry to get breakfast for you all from the nearest diner, while you and Leon stayed back together in the motel. It was definitely... strange. It was strange to share so much with someone you've only met about about a day ago. Though, considering that you spent the entirely of the last day sleeping, it pretty much felt like yesterday. You met Leon having no prior knowledge of him whatsoever. He wasn't even from Racoon City. You couldn't have known him if you've tried. Yet, the shared experience of survival side by side made you feel closer to him than to some of your friends back home.

Human minds work in mysterious ways.

So, here you are now, stuck all alone with Leon, for the first time since you reunited with Claire on the train. To avoid any unwanted awkwardness, you decide to break the silence at last.

"So...How'd you sleep?"

With a small yawn, Leon stirs in his bed and shifts onto his side. He slept the longest out of all you. Knocked out cold and waking up only approximately ten or so minutes ago. He's still rubbing at his bleary eyes, clearly not fully awake despite his efforts to appear alert for you. Given that he was also the one in the worst shape among you all, no one really blamed him for it. As the morning sun trickles through the shutters, light streaks across his face, painting his features into soft shades of red and yellow. It's a cute look on him, in a way. Though you don't linger on that thought too much. He examines the dimly lit room for a moment, almost like he needs a moment to remember how he got here in the first place, before his eyes settle on you standing by the window.

You kept the shutters down on purpose, to keep the morning sun away, making the room appear rather dark, aside from long stripes of bright yellow from the sunlight stubbornly peeking through. Though, it's definitely a first for you to find such comfort in a motel room, of all places.

Leon rolls over onto his back with a small, pained grunt, propping himself up slightly with his good arm. His voice is muffled and groggy as he answers, and you smile to yourself at the sound of it, stiffling a snort: "Honestly... Can't really complain. This might be the best sleep I've had in a while, all things considered."

"Well, I guess at least some of us are well-rested," you say, indirectly referring to your own rather worn out state despite the good 15 hours of sleep you got. You appreciate the cleanliness of the fresh air coming from the window for another short moment, inhaling with your full chest to fill your lungs to the brim. Compared to the foul stench of blood and rot you had grown a tolerance for now, even the somewhat dusty air from the curb felt like you were breathing on top of the cleanest mountain. But, you step away and sit back down on the other bed next to Leon's, leaning back on your palms comfortably. "Claire and Sherry are out to get us all some breakfast. We decided not to wake you."

Leon sits up and gently stretches out his shoulders, wincing slightily at the motion. No wonder, considering the huge, bloody bandage wrapped around his shoulder. Despite your effort to appear nonchalant, he quickly recognizes the weariness etched onto your features, and looks over at you with a genuinely sympathetic expression from what you could tell.

You look away, disappointed that he somehow read you like a book.

It's bizarre, having someone you had basically just met feel so relaxed with you. Usually, it takes you at least a few weeks to develop this level of friendliness with someone. Then again, not like you go through what you went through the night before with everybody. After all, you already knew that Leon was good. There was no need to be cautious around him. None that you knew of, at least. That, and he seemed way more outspoken than you, anyway. A bit too trusting and naive, too. Especially for a cop.

"What about you? You didn't sleep too well or something?" Leon asks with a hint of trepidation in his voice. While a part of you is still a bit annoyed at his keen perception of you, you suppose you can't really blame him either. Given that he's likely dealing with the same thing you do.

Though, despite all that happened, he and Claire were much more optimistic than you.

Either way, you give him a small, dismissive shrug and run your hand over your hair, your nose wrinkling at the unpleasant feel of it. It's dry and matted under your touch. Even with your best efforts to get yourself back into shape yesterday, your hair was still far from its ideal state. Not like you had access to your usual haircare products in here. You probably still look rather messy. You also find yourself wondering if you'll have to get a trim on it when you go back home. Maybe this whole ordeal was the universe's twisted way of telling you to get a change of style or something.

Leon gaze is still trained on you, his eyes peering straight into your soul. That's how it felt, at least. No matter how hard you try, the weary look in your eyes and slight sag in your shoulders are the dead giveaway that you are, indeed, still tired. But he doesn't address the issue. Much to your relief.

"Eh, I'm fine. I got some sleep," your response is somewhat aloof, and you know it. But your lack of sleep isn't your only worry here, after all. "I'm glad you got some rest, though."

"Yeah... I sure needed it," Leon sighs softly, tracing the white bandage on his shoulder with his fingers.

Your gaze, too, shifts to the blood-stained bandage over his shoulder as you look over at him. You're a bit curious whether he was tracing it more due to his overall unease or because he was reminiscing about the very person who had put it on him in the first place.

Leon notices your stare on his shoulder, and his fingers stop their movements, almost like he's a bit embarrassed of it. As he looks back up at you, his expression is a perfect blend of exhaustion and contemplation. A somewhat awkward moment of silence passes, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

"...How are you holding up?" you coax, your voice a bit quieter than usual, much to your own surprise.

Geez, you didn't mean to sound so worried.

"I'm... managing," he responds with a hint of fatigue in his own voice. He softly pokes at the makeshift bandage again, grimacing instantly as another dull pain throbs in his shoulder. "-It still hurts like hell though. But I guess I can't complain. Considering everything."

You let out a sigh and lean forward, resting your arms on your knees: "That's... not what I'm asking here."

In a way, you were curious why you were asking him this in the first place. Not like it's important. Or should be important. Your shared experience together did not change the fact that you and Leon were still pretty much strangers, regardless of everything. Or maybe you were being too cynical. Regardless, the absence of Claire and Sherry allowed for you two to converse with each other one on one for the first time in a rather long while. Something that you felt the need for. For a variety of reasons.

Your words cause Leon's brows to furrow slightly, be it confusion or something else. Though, it's obvious he understands what you're implying here, what you're truly asking from him. He pauses for another long moment, seemingly unsure of how to respond. You don't rush him. Letting the silence settle between you two once more, safe for the quiet hum of the air conditioner and an occasional car driving by somewhere in the distance.

Finally, he looks away from you and stares down at the cheap carpet on the floor. His expression is almost fragile as he speaks up, his eyes hinting at a hidden vulnerability he kept inside up until this point: "It's... I don't know. I just... all the people I- we couldn't save..."

You quickly recognize his potential indirect referral. Or perhaps you were already aware of it from the very beginning, simply waiting for him to get to it. After all, the urgency to escape prevented you from talking about it, the entire Nest crumbling in on itself in a blaze of fire and ashes.

No time for talking about your feelings when you are about to fucking explode, after all.

Leon trails off, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

So, you cut straight to it for him.

"...Are you thinking about her?" you murmur faintly but just loud enough for him to hear, looking directly at him. Providing a name wasn't necessary for you both to understand exactly who you were referring to here.

Ada.

As Leon glances back up at you abruptly, his blue eyes flash with surprise. It's easy to see the moment his heart drops, a pretty blatant mix of pain and guilt quickly washing over his face. Looks like you hit the jackpot after all.

He tries to speak, but then shuts his mouth once more. The look in his eyes is now one of confusion as he runs a hand through his hair frustratedly. You allow him to have his moment with no interference.

"...Yeah. I am," he finally admits, his voice almost a whisper. It's a wonder you heard him at all. With all the gunshots and explosions, you wouldn't have been surprised to find your hearing suffering greatly. He sighs heavily, his fingers twiddling together on his lap. "I... know it's probably stupid. Hell, it is stupid. To feel guilty over someone I barely even knew. Someone who..."

You sigh and lower your gaze as well. Saying things were complicated would be the same as saying nothing at all. Their final confrontation on the bridge was inaudible to you due to your distance. So, you were unaware of what was said between them. Not all of it, at least. The rumbling sounds of the Umbrella facility slowly crumbling in on itself caused everything to be drowned out to you. You didn't dare ask him about it, either.

His voice catches in his throat and he hesitates, making it obvious that it's your cue to continue now.

The judgment you made on Ada was based on what you saw from afar. That's all you could really offer him here.

"I do think she cared. About you, at least. We don't know why she did what she did. But... she didn't shoot you back there. I don't think she wanted to," you say, pursing your lips in thought as you play over what your eyes have seen. You were not aware of what Ada's last words to him were before she slipped from his grasp. But what you did see unfolding in front of you was... conflicting, to say the least.

Your words have a pretty profound effect on Leon, causing his heart to tighten in his chest with a painful pull. He understands all the implications behind them and, admittedly, he had already came to the same conclusion within himself. He just had no desire at all to actually face it and accept it. The fact that Ada's refusal to harm him to get her way was clear evidence of her allegiance. But that evidence was cruel and left him with no closure at all. Nervously, he runs his hand through his hair again, releasing a bitter laugh that felt heavy on his lungs. He is unsure whether he should be angry, sympathetic, or simply mournful towards the enigmatic woman who was such a mystery in every way, up to the very end. Perhaps he experiences all three emotions at the same time.

But you both know that if it were you standing there instead of Leon...

Ada probably wouldn't have hesitated on pulling the trigger.

He looks to you again, maybe hoping for you to give him some information he knew you couldn't give.

But you don't meet his gaze, choosing instead to look downwards, seemingly just as conflicted about this all as he is. Of course, Leon realizes that his numerous questions would remain unanswered for an indefinite period. Probaby forever. He also had to accept that you couldn't give him any answers, or closure that could potentially come with them. Ada has died, and there was no way to change that cold, hard fact. Just like there was no way to take back all the lives of countless others who were lost in those streets. Racoon City had transformed from a community of pride and hopeful future into a place of death and bloodshed, with only you, Claire, and Sherry, managing to escape it alive. That was your current understanding, at least.

It would be nice to meet other survivors. But, for now, all he could do was sigh and accept your answer, however unfair it was on his heart.

"Yeah, maybe... Maybe you're right," he mutters before falling into silence once more. His mind is racing with so many thoughts, all in conflict with one another. He is torn between his heart's desire to believe that Ada cared and the warnings of his mind to be cautious. He is uncertain about any of his emotions or thoughts at this point. He lets out another tired huff of frustration. "I just- I just wish I knew why. Why she did what she did, how much of it was real, or..."

...Or whether she cared about him at all.

"Well... at least you're safe. Let's leave it at that," your voice cuts through the dark whirlpool of thoughts in his head, turning his attention back on you. You seem to be focusing on his injured shoulder again. Perhaps in an attempt to divert the conversation, you switch the subject: "-We should really clean that up for you. It's all dirty and bloodied. Can't be good."

Leon winces as he instinctively tries to move his injured shoulder, further proving your point. He complies with a single nod, fully aware of the dire need for cleaning and proper care for the wound hidden under the worn-out bandages. Or... whatever care you could provide. At this point, anything is better than this dirty, blood-soaked thing.

"Uh, yeah. It's been a while, and it's starting to kind of..."

He stops, his face contorting in pain while he tries to move it again. His shoulder is becoming increasingly tender, and the bandage is completely stained with dark crimson blood. How much of it is his, and how much of it is of the other mutated things that used to be humans or animals he had to fight off, is unclear. Taking a deep breath, he prepares himself mentally for the miserable ordeal ahead.

This experience will not be pleasant.

That pitiful look you give him doesn't help his pride, either. Or what's left of it, anyways.

Regardless, not wanting to stall this any longer than he has to, he gingerly shifts his wounded shoulder and starts to delicately remove his police uniform with caution, taking his time. He took off his body armor the day before, leaving it stacked neatly somewhere in the far corner. Out of sight, out of mind, so to speak. Still, what was left of the dirtied police uniform on him was just as much of a reminder of the night before. He flinches involuntarily due to the fabric brushing against the bloody bandage, the pain instantly radiating from his shoulder straight to his insides.

You realize that you cannot just sit back and watch him struggle on his own, pride be damned.

"...Here. Let me help," you murmur softly as you approach him and sit next to him on the motel bed. You begin to delicately unbutton and peel off his soiled uniform from his upper body, aiming to avoid putting any unneeded discomfort on his already tender shoulder.

Leon nods quietly in response to your assistance. You're grateful he didn't make a big deal out of it. Outwardly, at least. He raises his good arm and makes an effort to shift his position, allowing you to help him in taking off what was left. "Thanks..."

You try not to think too much about the fact that you are basically undressing a cute guy you just met the day before.

With your help, you eventually succeed in removing the top portion of his uniform, leaving him in his pants and a bandage to cover his bruised skin. As he sits there, you can tell that his upper body being fully uncovered to your gaze - except for the stained bandage on his shoulder that is - is making him feel rather awkward and tense. You can't really blame him for that.

You sure would be feeling embarrassed in his place.

"...I probably look a total mess right now," Leon shoots you a somewhat nervous smile. Despite him clearly trying to make a joke, you can still hear the painfully obvious apprehension in his voice.

"Yeah, you do," you agree rather bluntly as you glance over him without crossing any inappropriate boundaries. Leon had a more fit body than you expected, which... made sense in hindsight due to his recent graduation from the Police Academy, as he told you. It was probably necessary for him to be in good shape. Although muscular, he wasn't excessively so. His body was... normal. In a good way. Decently toned, with some softness around his sides and belly. Frankly, if it wasn't for the situation at hand, you would have complimented him, but you suppress that urge as soon as it arises.

You don't need to make things even more weird between you two.

As your eyes travel up and down his body, you lock eyes with each other for a brief, awkward moment. You quickly break eye contact with the each other, almost simultaneously.

Welp, so much for not being awkward.

"Uh... Do you remember what Ada did for you exactly...?" you say instead, touching his uninjured shoulder lightly. When Leon was shot, you were not together. You missed witnessing the event directly, only reuniting with him afterwards when he already had a fresh bandage wrapped snuggly around his shoulder.

"No... I passed out after I got shot," there is a brief pause between you, and his face reflects a mixture of pain and another indescribable emotion that you can't really pinpoint clearly. Whether it's physical discomfort speaking or something else entirely, you don't know. "I woke up with it already on and her gone."

You watch him turn his attention back to his injured shoulder, where the white bandage is stained with dried blood. He gently rubs the fabric with his fingers, sensing the pain and discomfort that emanates from the fresh wound beneath. Despite everything, it's very much evident that he can't help but feel at least a small tingle of gratitude towards Ada, even though it hurts him to think about her at the moment.

"Well, since you didn't bleed out, and your arm is still somewhat usable, I'd say she did a good job," you let out a sigh and lean back slightly. Although you had previously taken a rather beneficial first aid course, you never anticipated having to actually apply those skills to treat a severe bullet wound, of all things. "...Her being a mercenary explains her way around such stuff, I guess."

Leon's eyes are still fixed on his injured shoulder as he nods. Guess he wasn't feeling very talkative for now. Not that you could blame him for that.

He runs his hand through his messy hair as you go to grab the medkit you thoughtfully prepared for the occasion, the faint sound of his fingers scratching against his scalp echoes in the room. You can only guess that his hair is probably just as dry and dirty as yours is, considering the circumstances you've just recently escaped from. On some level, it makes you feel less awkward about your own disheveled appearance in turn. It's good to know that you are all in the same boat here. Looking like a mess, and feeling like one, too.

"It sure does," he exhales somewhat bitterly, his voice filled with underlying anguish, as if he feels deeply betrayed. And he probably does. His face covered in a plethora of conflicting emotions. You feel a twinge of sympathy tugging at your heartstrings again. "I wish she could have just... been honest with me. From the start."

It appears that he is struggling to reconcile with the disparity between the person he believed he knew and the person Ada truly was.

You decide to not mention that he knew her for less than 24 hours. After all, it's evident that he's going through a difficult time as it is, and your practicality may not be of much help to him. Emotions are notoriously illogical.

It's difficult to think of a way to comfort him in the current situation.

"Well, at least you still have me, right? We made it out. And Claire, too. And Sherry." So, instead, you choose to gently rub his uninjured shoulder as a wordless show of support. "C'mon. Let's get that dirty bandage off of you. We don't want you catching an infection or something."

When you touch his shoulder again, he returns his gaze back to you, some life returning to the gentle blues of his eyes, much to your relief. Looks like your touch did the trick, as his body gradually loosens up under your palm. He gives you a small but genuine smile. "Alright, alright. Let's get this done, then. This is going to suck though..."

"Hey, it can't be as bad as actually getting shot, though, right?" you attempt to make a small joke to lighten the mood, but you instantly feel a deep sense of discomfort inside as soon as you actually speak it aloud.

Well, that sure sounded macabre.

"Uh... Sorry. That was... pretty bad."

Leon snorts out a short laugh regardless, running a hand over his face. At least you made him laugh. Though you can't help but wonder whether he laughed at your joke, or you. Probable the latter. Regardless, he takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the very probable agony of having his shoulder directly meddled with.

You both understand that it'll likely be pretty painful for him to endure, but you also understand that it is very much essential to get done. Especially since you haven't visited a hospital yet.

So, after you share a nod of mutual agreement with him, you begin to carefully remove the dirty bandage from his shoulder, taking your time to avoid causing him any unnecessary discomfort.

Besides your unfunny joke, that is.

"...Your jokes are terrible." Leon mutters under his breath, probably to distract himself a little. He winces slightly, the fabric that's already hardened now rubbing directly against the wound from your movements, which is more than uncomfortable to sit through, but not as painful as he expected. Or maybe he has just become more numb to the pain of it. "Don't be too gentle, by the way. Better to just get it over with as quickly as possible."

"I'm not about to hurry through this and potentially make it worse, sorry," you deadpan, leaving no room for doubt.

Well, so much for his hopes of getting this done quickly. Though he knows you're right there. He just really doesn't want to sit through this.

As you continue to unravel the bandage, he clenches his teeth tightly. The pain is bearable, but it's far from enjoyable. With you steadily approach the actual wound, his entire body tightens involuntarily, muscles going taut with contained tension. The actual memory of being shot is still fresh in his mind, unfortunately. Though, he tries to divert his attention away from the pain by focusing on your presence and touch instead, however dubious such a notion may be.

He can hear you release a small sigh, whether it was out of annoyance or pity for him, he couldn't really tell. Your lips tighten as you carefully and patiently unravel each layer of cloth one by one to reach the aforementioned wound. He quickly looks down at his lap, scolding himself inwardly.

Why was he staring at your lips, of all things, anyways? He has no concise answer for that. And he is not sure what to expect once you two can finally look at the bullet wound itself, either. It's like everything was uncertain, and that was frustrating, to say the least.

"F-Fuck... That hurts-"

He clenches his teeth tightly, determined not to make any unneeded noise. He doesn't want to appear weak in your presence for some reason. Perhaps it's his pride speaking. He didn't really know.

"Sorry... I'm going as gently as I can," your voice is softer than he's used to, and he's not sure how to take that. You take your sweet time to remove the remaining layers of his bandage, being cautious not to abruptly tear it off, opting instead for a slower and more careful approach. Considerate as ever.

Leon releases a trembling breath while you carefully remove the final layer of fabric. He has to fight a growing urge to recoil as the last remaining layers of bandage are delicately removed. But it does at least feel relieving to finally take a full breath with no restriction that the tightness of the fabric secured around his chest provided. Even if such freedom was probably brief.

You both can now see his entire shoulder, which completely reveals the wound for you both to behold. He is very much aware of his heart pounding in his chest, his nerves on high alert. Once the wound is finally exposed, you examine it, quickly glancing over the hastily but securely stitched front and back where the bullet entered and exited his body. It was certainly not a clean, medical work, but it far surpassed anything either of you were capable of doing for him.

"Looks like she stitched you up, too... I wonder if that means she removed the bullet," you note, your brows furrowed together, creating a rather adorable-looking wrinkle between them.

...Goddammit, he's thinking utter nonsense.

"Ugh... I don't want to look at it," he mutters with clenched teeth, his breath slightly uneven. Nonetheless, he tries to divert his attention to something else, anything else, to distract himself from the nervousness twisting at his insides. The pain is intense and prickling, a sensation that spreads from the wound itself. The tender area around the injury causes Leon to wince involuntarily as you delicately touch it. He looks down at the wound, the stitched-up flesh making him a bit queasy. But he pushes past it. "I... can't tell you anything on what she did, sorry. Like I said, I passed out."

He looks away from it, not wanting to see it for much longer. Damn it, this will likely leave a mark. So much for the first day on the job. The idea of having to bear a permanent reminder of that horrible night makes him want to wail and claw at the walls.

But instead, he just lets out a shaky breath, his hands gripping at the sheets with iron-tight grip. In some sick irony, he now finds himself wishing for the dull, physical ache to return, to take center-stage again, instead of these feelings of disgust and dread that were so much more difficult to deal with.

Once again, your voice pulls him out of his silent turmoil. This seems to be a common occurrence now. But one he's grateful for, nonetheless.

"Well... Either way, you'll still need to go to a hospital for this. Preferably as soon as possible," you state, pretty much admitting that you would rather have opted to go directly to the hospital after your escape instead of staying in a nearby motel. He knew that you didn't approve of his stubborn refusal to go to the hospital. And here you were now. DIY care will have to do. You hum, your fingertips carefully tracing around the stitches. He shivers. Whether that was from the pain or something else entirely, he didn't really know. "-At least it's stitched up, so that's good. I'll just clean it, disinfect it, and wrap it back up for you. Hopefully it'll be okay."

"Yeah, I know I need to get this checked out. But for now..." As you start tending to his injury with a wet wipe, he flinches a bit, feeling a sharp pain from the cold dampness touching his skin. He hisses through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he continues, his voice strained from the pain: "-I just want us to get out of here first. As far away from Racoon City as possible. Especially Sherry."

"Sorry... Bear with it for a while, will you?" you say as you move closer to him on the bed, glancing at him with that cute sympathetic look of yours. You start from his back and then move to his front. He shuts his eyes again while you continue with the wound cleaning, concentrating on taking deep, regular breaths to soothe his nerves. His body tenses up involuntarily, as the pain from the wound and the recollection of how it happened remain vivid in his thoughts.

"It's alright... I'll handle it." A sensitive area on his shoulder causes him to squirm slightly when touched. His entire body tightens instinctively, and his muscles contract involuntarily. "S-Sorry, just... Be careful, okay?"

You nod as you continue to cleanse his skin of dried up blood, while he tries to find solace in your quiet comfort. It presents a challenge, as the pain from his injury and the physical proximity between you two hinder his ability to focus on anything else.

"Don't apologize. I'm not the one with a damn bullet wound in my shoulder," you respond to his apology with a soft huff and a small shake of your head, your attention fully focused on your work. Your primary objective was to avoid making any sharp movements and to prevent your eyes from wandering south.

Which was... a bit harder than you would have liked to admit. You notice a few birthmarks scattered around his skin here and there. It's cute. A part of you wants to trace over them with your finger.

But, of course, you have a job to do.

Leon takes a deep breath, his chest slowly rising and falling as you work on him carefully. His teeth are clenched far too tightly for his comfort, and you are kind of worried that he might chip a tooth if he keeps this up. But considering that you have no idea what he's going through here, you decide to keep your mouth shut on that.

After successfully cleaning the area around his rough stitches, you pull away and search through the first aid kit you had in the motel room. A small, thoughtful hum fills your lips.

You hear Leon laugh weakly:"...Anything worthwhile in there, doc?"

"Well, there's some antibiotic cream in here... Better than nothing. I guess?"

He watches as you pull out the small tube of some basic antibacterial cream. You're pretty sure you have seen it somewhere before. Then again, no point expecting some high-end medicine from a med-kit you found stashed in the bedside drawer. Regardless, you make sure to read through its contents, just to be sure. Satisfied, you nod to yourself and return to sit behind him, beginning to apply the cream to his stitches with your fingertips. He instantly grimaces, be it from the pain or the cold. His muscle tighten again for a moment, a small gasp leaving his lips.

"Stay still," you instruct to him softly as you spread the cream over his stitches thoroughly, your forehead wrinkling with focus. You try your best to be gentle while also ensuring that an adequate amount is applied to the injury.

"Ugh... shit, that's cold," he grits out, his voice strained.

For a small while, the room is silent, aside from Leon's shaky breaths and an occasional grunt of pain as he struggles to stay still for you. After you thoroughly treated both sides, you withdraw with a sigh: "Well... That's as good as we can do for now. We just need to wrap it back up with something."

Leon exhales a trembling breath of relief. Poor guy definitely had the worst night of his life.

"Heh... I guess I owe you one for this." He directs his gaze towards his shoulder, his eyes shifting between his bloodstained shirt lying crumbled on the floor and the now clean and treated stitches. Compared to their previous state, they definitely looked a bit better, but it was still, admittedly, pretty gross to look at. You can only guess that it will be a lengthy recovery for him. He hums. "You did a great job, by the way. I'm not sure I could have handled doing all that by myself,"

He meets your eyes with a gentle, grateful smile.

"-Just make sure to get it treated at the hospital. I don't need anything else from you." You dismiss him with a small smile of your own. Leon gives you a small nod at that.

However brief, the implication of the future makes you feel a bit... uneasy. Considering the past night's events, the idea of parting and going your separate ways seemed to be somewhat conflicting to you. Nonetheless, you have already accepted that it was inevitable. Leon, on the other hand, seemed to be firmly committed to destroying Umrella completely for what it did to Racoon City, just like Claire was. You felt somewhat out of place between these two determined individuals. After all, you were just an ordinary person who somehow miraculously escaped relatively unharmed. You weren't a courageous hero, nor were you skillfull enough to take down an entire corporation in some blaze of glory.

...Except for the scar or two for you to brag about now. Though you honestly doubt your survival is something to be proud of. You sure don't feel proud or accomplished at all.

Regardless, you ignore all these thoughts and concentrate on retrieving fresh bandages, contemplating them with a pensive expression. It's a bit of a hassle to unwrap the delicate gauze without tearing it. "...I sure hope this will be enough to wrap your shoulder back up. Though I guess I can just run out and buy some more."

"I think that should be enough. And don't worry about running out to get more. I don't want you going out there alone," Leon's voice is more serious than you expect, prompting you to raise a brow at him. He meets your questioning gaze, his face showing a somewhat worried expression. "We're stronger together. Safer together. And after everything we've been through, I don't want to risk us losing sight of each other."

"What do you would even happen, though? We're out now, right? I get that you and Claire want to deal with Umbrella and all, but..." you let out a sigh and move closer to him from behind, beginning to gently wrap the bandage around his shoulder and torso to provide support. Despite the awkwardness and clumsiness of your work, you do your best for him. "-I'm just a normal, boring person with a normal, boring life, y'know. Not much I can do. I'm guessing I'll just... go back home to my State or something. Since Racoon City is obviously... uh... not an option of residence anymore."

Leon nods again as he listens to you. He takes a brief pause, staring down at the fresh bandages layering themselves over his body before returning to look back at you over his shoulder. You lock eyes with him.

"But still... I'd feel better if you stuck with me. Or Claire. At least until you and Sherry are somewhere safe," he shrugs slightly, wincing as the motion immediately strains at his wounded shoulder. "I'm not saying you have to help us take down Umbrella if you don't want to. That's our fight. But... I would feel better knowing that you're safe and protected. And if that means sticking with me until you are, then..."

"-Go easy on that shoulder, will you?" you release a small sigh of frustration when you see him casually shrug and grimace instantly. You place a hand on his uninjured shoulder to acclimate him a bit before continuing bandaging him up.

"Sorry, sorry. Staying still now." A sheepish chuckle leaves him as he gives you an almost guilty look. A trembling breath escapes him as you work at his shoulder. Although it's obvious that he's still uncomfortable, it looks like his pain has eased a little, much to your relief.

You take a deep breath, your expression shifting slightly. Truth be told, you were a bit jealous of Leon's unyielding faith into things somehow working out in the end. It was naive, but... refreshing, too. He continues, his gaze now locked onto you over his shoulder: "And you're not boring, you know. Sure, you may not have any special skills or training, but you're smart. Brave. Resilient. You've survived this far, haven't you?"

You take a brief moment to reflect on his words, with only the faint noise of the gauze being unwrapped and distant sounds from outside permeating the motel room. "-Won't I just be a burden to you guys, though? You're a cop. And Claire is apparently one impressive badass with a gun. I'm not... Ada, either. I'm just... well, me. Not much I can offer to help you in the long run."

You take a brief break to lock eyes with him again. Leon smiles at you faintly, his face now looking more relaxed, no longer wrinkled with the expression of pain: "Well... You've got heart. That counts for something in my book."

"Uh... not to be a downer, but I don't think my 'heart' will keep me safe out there. I never even shot a gun properly before. Until last night that is," you whisper playfully, rolling your eyes at him. Somehow, his words always manage to bring a smile to your face, even if it's a small one. Though he is pretty damn corny. "I guess I could kill zombies with kindness. Do you think my heart is any good for that?"

Leon laughs at that, his eyes twinkling with amusement. It looks like your bluntness didn't bother him much. When you're eventually finished with bandaging him up, you're able to see how well the pure white fabric of the fresh gauze contrasts with the previous dirty and bloody one now lying discarded on the floor. Leon takes a moment to look back down at his freshly bandaged shoulder, too, appreciating your work. At least you hope he did.

"I mean... I could teach you how to shoot properly and all. If you want." He looks back up at you with a genuinely sincere expression on his face. He takes a short pause and a small smile appears on his lips before he adds: "...And I get the feeling you'd be a natural shot from what I've seen from you already."

You only scoff at that, your attention focused on inspecting his body, examining the various cuts and bruises that still marred his skin.

Leon lets out another gentle chuckle at your dismissive response or lack there of, his face showing a combination of amusement and gratitude. Admittedly, you're a bit more huffy with him now that you're out of danger. You can't really help it. But that doesn't mean you don't feel any worry twist in your gut as you look over his bruised body.

"-How about I patch some of these up as well? Since I have all the supplies out and all."

"You sure? I can walk it off just fine," Leon says in a rather playful tone. Though, to make it easier for you to observe his body, he still carefully adjusts his position to face you fully. "Sure, a few cuts and scrapes here and there, and I'm guessing I'm gonna be bruised up pretty bad, but... Nothing to make a fuss about."

You only grace him with yet another deadpan look that makes it clear that you already made the decision for him. So, without saying another word, you grab another wet wipe and begin cleaning out his numerous smaller cuts and gashes scattered here and there, starting with his lower back, as you move behind him once more.

Leon emits a soft hiss, the familiar coldness causing him to shudder against you. He's rather pliable for you, for some reason. You kind of expected him to protest or at least grumble a bit at your incessant coddling. But it seems like he was fine with just letting you play nurse for him.

"Stay still, will you," you quietly chide him, placing a hand on his back to stop his squirming.

"Sorry, it just stings like hell..." he mumbles as he attempts to remain still for you, his muscles tightened. His body grows increasingly rigid as you continue to tend to his wounds, a trembling exhale leaving his lips. He clenches his teeth again, but he sometimes cannot resist emitting a hiss or gasp here and there. "God, I don't remember the last time I got beat up this bad... I feel like I got hit by a damn train."

You now move to position yourself in front of him to take care of his stomach area. And once again, you find yourself trying to keep your mind from focusing too much on the physical proximity between you two. Especially as you shift to kneel on the floor between his legs, finding no other better option to be level with his lower abdomen in a way that would be comfortable for you.

All you are doing is taking care of his wounds and nothing else.

Leon and you are both acutely aware of how close you are to him now, his breath catching in his throat when you kneel in front of him. But he doesn't say anything about it, and neither do you. After all, saying anything about it would potentially force you to confront some feelings you weren't comfortable confronting quite yet. As you clean up some minor cuts of his, you feel a slight increase in your heart rate despite all your best efforts to keep a level head. However, you try your damnest to put these unwanted feelings aside by reminding yourself that you are simply doing your job.

...Only you certainly can't ignore the fact that you are now essentially kneeling between his legs. Despite this, you persevere in cleaning him up, your hands moving over his chest and abdomen with great care. With too much care, really. There was no reason for you to be so careful and soft with him. But you do so anyways.

Leon watches you intently as you're working on him in tense silence, his eyes fixed on your face, hands, the way your hair occasionally falls over your face from your position, partially obscuring your features from his view. Your gentle assistance causes him to feel a tiny shiver traveling down his spine every time you move your fingers and touch his skin directly. He swallows, clearing his throat.

"Fucking hell... I'm gonna be sore as hell for weeks," Leon lets out a somewhat shaky laugh, trying to adopt a light and casual tone despite the situation. Though, he is mostly just hoping to distract himself from... everything.

...He wonders how your touch would feel on him without the washcloth there to mask it.

You give him a slight shrug in response. "-Sore is better than dead."

Fair.

"Thanks for... taking care of all this. I don't know what I'd do without you right now."

"Probably have Claire do this for me."

Leon laughs nervously, realizing that his attempts at small-talk are not quite working out. He watches you grab the antibacterial cream and move back up to sit behind him on the bed. When you begin applying the cream to his back, he wries slightly but tries his best to remain still for you and conceal the full extent of his discomfort. Your hands on his skin, and the cream's coldness is making him shiver for the countless time today. "...Is the cream really necessary? It's just some cuts and bruises..."

"Yup."

He sighs, hanging his head low and accepting his fate. Once the initial foreign coldness of the cream subsidies, the sensation of your touch on his skin has a strangely relaxing effect on him, especially so when it doesn't involve the aching bullet wound on his shoulder. He leans into your touch mindlessly, despite the ache, feeling his muscles gradually unwind under your care.

He's not necessarily aware of the action. But once he does notice it, he doesn't try to move back, either. After all the stress and pain, it's too much of a relief. And he's far too weak to resist it.

With a small smile on his lips, he glances at you over his shoulder and says: "You know... I've gotta say, being taken care of by a beautiful stranger like you isn't all that bad."

You huff out a surprised laugh at that, giving him a rather adorable-looking eye roll. He feels his smile grow, feeling oddly proud of making you laugh. Even if it was probably at his expense.

"...Not sure how I'm supposed to respond to that, but thank you for the compliment. You're not so bad yourself. For a patient." Your dismissive response at his cheeky remark is something that Leon finds genuinely amusing. He knows he took you by surprise with that. Which was his intention all along.

And just like that, you return back to the floor, settling between his legs and starting to apply cream to the small cuts scattered on his stomach. Like it's no big deal whatsoever. Your calm and nonchalant attitude about this all is kind of driving him crazy. It makes him feel like he's insane for feeling all frazzled by this entire situation. But he keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to embarrass himself any further.

Your ghostly touches across his abdomen cause a slight increase in his heart rate, another shudder running down his spine despite his efforts to suppress it. He tries to hide his body's unwelcome reactions to your touch, biting down on his lip, but he can't help but tremble and gasp occasionally, writing it off on the pain in his head. Rather poorly. His body stubbornly refuses to calm down, not when he can feel the sensation of your fingers gliding across his skin so gently, and he just has to sit there deal with it.

...And hopefully avoid getting a very awkward boner, considering your position between his legs.

Trying to keep the mood light, he grins down at you his eyes glued to you as his voice takes on a more joking tone. Though it sounds more shaky and nervous than confident, much to his annoyance: "You don't have to respond. Just take the compliment."

"Gee, thank you. Very gracious of you," you laugh briefly, shaking your head at him. At times, you were too much. Leon wonders if that's how you normally act, when you're not in a life-or-death situation. He was not prepared for you to be so curt and snarky with him. In a way, it was endearing. Though, of course, he wasn't about to admit that outloud.

Regardless, he finds himself shooting his shot again. Almost on impulse.

"Y'know... You're making this whole 'being patched up' thing damn near enjoyable," his tone is playful, but a subtle hint of interest still manages to sneak into his voice, mixed in with his playful words. He was testing the waters. Trying to see just how receptive you were to his flattery that was a bit more flirty in nature.

"Well, at least you're not in pain. That's good enough for me." Your response is almost unfairly simple, prompting him pout a bit as he watches you finish up on the task of tending to his numerous minor cuts and bruises that he acquired the night before. At the very least, this was much easier for him to handle, both physically and mentally, compared to the gruesome bullet wound you just treated. His torso still had a few noticeable bruises and smaller cuts from the previous day, but he definitely looked much better without all the dried up blood and dirt stuck to his skin and making it seem worse than it really was.

With a soft sigh, you pull back from him and look over him, pausing to look at his bruised hands in particular: "-Those probably hurt, no?"

He concentrates on his hands for a good minute, staring down at them and flexing his fingers to gauge their feel. With a slight grimace, he experiences a tiny burst of pain as he moves them, an exasperated huff leaving his lips.

At this point, is there any part of his body that doesn't hurt like a bitch?

"...A bit. Can't say I'm really surprised, though. It's a wonder I have any usable hands left at all, honestly."

His expression softens slightly when he meets your gaze, noticing the crystal-clear worry in your eyes. He finds it charming how much you truly care and desire to help him. You may be a bit more sharp with him, but your genuine concern for him never went away. He's definitely not used to being doted on so much. Though he feels a bit guilty for enjoying it as much as he does.

You shake your head again, giving him a pointed look at his little quip: "Don't get all dramatic now."

He smiles at that.

"No, but really. Thanks for tending to me. I was serious when I said that I wouldn't know what I'd do without you right now," he repeats his previous statement again, mostly because he doesn't really know what else to say. Or, rather, what he wants to say is a bit out of line.

"Nah. I'm not doing anything groundbreaking here. It just helps to keep my hands busy. I'll probably patch up Claire and Sherry once they come back, too." You wave off his gratitude, as always.

Leon has to refrain from voicing his observations, which directly contradict your words. Which are that you visibly cared more and felt more concerned for him in particular. He didn't want to create an awkward situation between you two. Instead, he watches quietly as you hum and delicately take hold of his hands, bringing them closer to your face to assess the damage. Of course, it wasn't a major problem. In all honesty, you could have concluded this all once you took care of his bullet wound, as it was the only truly crucial matter to deal with. Everything else that followed was rather unnecessary, all things considered.

He freely lets you hold onto his hands without any resistance. His heart flutters slightly as he feels the tenderness of your touch once more. Observing your face, he feels a mix of affection and amusement bubbling in his chest as you examine his hands so thoroughly. Your gaze lingering on his bruised knuckles is something he notices in particular. You're rather attentive with him.

Nonetheless, you pull back once you're satisfied, meeting his gaze. "-It'll probably be good to bandage up those knuckles. Make it less painful for you, at least."

"Yeah, that might not be a bad idea," he says in a light tone, trying to ignore the way his heartbeat steadily accelerates due to the warm sensation of your fingers against his skin with no barriers getting in the way. And ignoring the persistent thoughts of lacing his fingers with yours, just to see how that would feel like.

As you begin silently wrapping his knuckles with gauze, he watches as your hands move gently and precisely over him. Even if it was faint, he couldn't help but notice the contrast between the size of your hands and his own. He almost becomes distracted by the sensation of your touch, but your voice takes him out of it.

"-Nice to know that taking that first aid course back in college wasn't a total waste of time," you muse playfully while you delicately wrap the gauze around one of his hands, making sure not to apply too much pressure on it. The sensation was comforting. By taking care of Leon, you were not only helping him, but also alleviating your own worries following the events of the previous night. In a sense, you were doing this for yourself as much as for him.

"Well, you're really good at this. Maybe you should be a nurse. Look into that." Leon's voice is soft even if his words are teasing, a hint of appreciation or admiration seeping through. You couldn't really tell.

As you scrunch up at him in response to his compliment, Leon giggles. The sound of it feels oddly calm and soothing to you. You are acutely aware of his eyes on you as you swiftly wrap the gauze around his hand, but you do not mention it to him. Considering that you were acting rather excessive with your care for him, you couldn't really blame him for staring. Once you are done with one of his hands, he glances at his freshly bandaged knuckles with a faint smile gracing his lips.

"...Never thought I'd put my skills to use like this though," your say quietly.

"I never thought I'd end up getting shot on my first day on the job, either. Or attacked by a giant alligator. It's been a wild ride, to say the least."

"I guess we all got the rug pulled from under our feet last night, so to speak," you sigh, your brows furrowing a bit as your mind drifts back to the events of the night prior. But you don't dwell on it too much. Focusing instead of the feel of Leon's hand in yours.

As you gradually complete the bandaging on his other hand as well, he continues to watch you in silence, his gaze fixed on your face as you concentrate on your task. You feel a bit sheepish, knowing you are being watched this closely, a warm, ticklish sensation flickering to life in your chest. You sigh and shake it off.

"But hey, I'm grateful I got to meet you. Though that was... one hell of a first meeting," his tone is sincere and quiet, with a genuine intention behind his words you can't overlook even if you try. You are suddenly fully aware that you probably wouldn't have been able to figure out what to do without his presence by your side in duration of that hellish night. In fact, if it wasn't for him, you'd probably be dead. Be it by giving up on fighting and simply accepting your fate, or being far too panicked to get yourself together in a moment of importance.

You wouldn't have survived if you were on your own put there. At least that's what you thought.

"I'm... glad I met you, too. And I'm glad you're here with me, right now."

The ease with which these words just fly out of your mouth is... surprising. A rather long moment of silence follows, only the soft sound of the bandage being wrapped around his other hand and the distant noise of cars outside filling the cramped motel room.

You do not look up at him, but you can be pretty certain that Leon is probably just as taken aback by your unexpectedly moving response. Your heart skips as you swiftly realize the genuine sincerity of your own words that seemed to have a mind of their own. This wasn't like you. Being this open and vulnerable about your feelings. Especially so to someone you've just met. Maybe you were even more of a mess than you thought. But when you do get the courage to sneak a quick glance up at him, his expression is rather soft, much to your surprise. You cannot quite comprehend what is reflected in there, but it brings a warm, blooming feeling to your chest regardless.

"Uh... Thanks," he speaks up eventually, his voice sounding a little rougher than usual, but you are grateful enough that he managed to blurt out at least something to end this heavy beat of silence. The unexpected intensity of the moment has left you feeling a bit flustered and caught off guard, and you never liked not being in control of your emotions.

He continues to watch you as you finish bandaging his other hand, his gaze shifting between your face and his now fully bandaged knuckles. Throughout this quiet but charged process, you deal with a rather strange combination of feelings. Gratitude for his understanding of your odd behavior without focusing on it too much. A fluttery, nervous feeling in your stomach due to your physical proximity to him, making you painfully aware of every rise and fall of his chest with every breath he takes. A burning heat of embarrassment blooming in your cheeks from being so upfront with him all of the sudden.

It was a doozy, to say the least. Especially to your already worn out mind.

You exhale slowly, calming yourself. Leaning slightly back on your knees, you observe his bandaged hands. Despite finding a safe place to rest and sleep without immediate danger, you still feel a sense of unease and uncertainty somewhere in the back of your mind, gnawing at your every thought like an ugly, persistent parasite. And these new emotions you are now dealing with did not help with that feeling of apprehension whatsoever. You're growing increasingly unsure about what to do next or how to proceed after all is resolved. Both short-term as well as long-term.

Will you just return to your regular daily routine after this? Go back to work like nothing happened? Try out that study program you were so interested in applying for? Visit that new Cafe that opened near your apartment back home?

All of that seems almost impossible now. The same things that used to make you feel hopeful and excited for the future now seemed completely hollow. You felt hollow. Like Racoon City has robbed you of your future, even if it let you escape alive.

But what other option is there for you?

To play hero and risk your life again?

You weren't sure you could handle that, either.

"Hey, I..." Leon starts to speak, breaking you out of your trance, but his voice fades away without ever finishing whatever he was planning on saying to you. He clearly wants to convey something, but he is either unsure of what to say, or is hesitant about speaking his mind at all. You can't really blame him. You find it rather infuriating yourself, trying to find the correct words to express the unique combination of emotions swirling within you chest.

You shake your head, expelling all these unwanted thoughts from your mind. At least for a brief moment.

"-For what it's worth, I really am glad you've survived. With me. And... I'm thankful. For all you did for me. Even though you didn't know me at all."

Your thumbs are absentmindedly brushing against his palm now while you keep your gaze lowered. You don't want to see his face right now. Perhaps, you're just scared to.

"...You may not have saved everybody. Or most people you wanted to save. But... I'm here thanks to you. So... thank you. For saving me," you finish quietly. Taking little time to consider your next action, you find yourself leaning down and gently kissing his bandaged knuckles, lingering there for a few moments before withdrawing. You don't address the issue directly or consider its significance.

You refuse to.

Leon is very much stunned speechless when you go and kiss his knuckles without any warning being given to him, his heart quickly flying up into his throat as he stares down at you, utterly dumbfounded. This was... definitely the last thing he expected you to do, especially after such a heartfelt sentiment that left him feeling rather choked up as it is. He feels a rush of warmth traveling up to his face, causing him to choke on his own words for a good minute. He struggles to find the right words as various emotions overwhelm him all at once. But they didn't feel heavy or painful, like the crushing guilt for those he couldn't protect, or the suffocating ache of betrayal that Ada's deception left him with.

This was lighter, giving him a much-needed break from all the depressing thoughts and questions buzzing on the front of his mind. But, ironically this was also so much more nerve-wracking to navigate.

He didn't know which on which emotion to focus on, which one to express to you, and whether or not he should express anything at all.

Gratitude for your unconditional comfort. Guilt for making you comfort him in the first place. Confusion at your sudden show of gentle affection he didn't know how to respond to. An inexplicable fluttering sensation making his guts feel all queasy.

You not saying anything to address what just happened doesn't help much with the chaos happening inside his head.

"You..." although he starts speaking, he trails off once again, cursing at himself inside his own head.

You don't seem bothered at all by his lack of a reply. In fact, Leon is kind of uncertain if you even want him to reply in the first place. It doesn't seem like you expect much from him at all. And the situation between you is already too complicated as it is, without all the added weirdness taking place right now. Maybe you didn't want to talk about it at all.

Though, the notion of you simply kissing him like that, without expecting anything from him in return is... more moving than he was willing to admit.

So, despite his disbelief and the whirlwind of emotions wrecking havoc on his already frazzled mind, he just keeps looking at you like. Like a loyal puppy looking at its owner and trying to figure them out. Truth be told, he simply cannot bring himself to look away from you right now, not with the memory of your brief kiss to his knuckles now etched into his mind. Regardless of its simplicity and innocence, the kiss has a deeper meaning for him. Suddenly, he finds himself being struck by your simple beauty: how tired and fragile you truly seem to him in this moment. In a way, you look just like him. Exhausted and battered, but carrying on regardless. There was a certain authentic charm in your disheveled appearance. He finds himself yearning to reach out and hold your hand, to bring your own fingers up to his lips, like you did for him.

...But before he can do or say any of that, you sigh and lift yourself up from your kneeling position beneath him. You release his hands, your thumbs gently brushing along the sides of his palms one last time before you warmth slips away from him completely. Leon continues to watch as you move away from him, feeling an unexpected sense of disappointment coiling deep in his gut despite his efforts to ignore it. He tries his damnest to dismiss this unpleasant feeling, convincing himself to concentrate on whatever you choose to do next instead. Though he does kind of feel like some lovesick puppy, unable to look away from you even for a damn second.

You quickly sit back up onto the motel bed beside him, your eyes traveling up and down his form quietly. He knows you're probably just overlooking his injuries, but he suddenly feels nervous and almost self-conscious under your attention, nonetheless. Mostly because he wants to know what you think of him. Not as a patient, but as a man. He does appear visibly better, though, now that he's at least no longer wearing that dirty, bloody bandage around his shoulder, and his smaller cuts and bruises have been properly cleaned from the stray dirt and blood stuck on them. But he's definitely seen better days.

"-Claire and Sherry sure are taking their time," you say softly, breaking the silence.

"Y-Yeah, they are. They've been gone for a while now. I'm sure they're fine, though. Claire can handle herself," he agrees, his voice sounding strangely squeaky even to his own ears. He cringes inwardly, clearing his throat. His mind continues to race, with thoughts swirling like a tornado within his head. Feeling restless, he shifts uncomfortably on the bed, unable to find the right position.

He's fully aware that his behavior has become noticeably more quiet and reserved compared to before, and he can't help but feel slightly annoyed with himself for making things awkward between you. But he doesn't really know what else to do. Whether you want him to talk about that kiss or not. If he's making a bigger deal out of it than it really is.

If you would be willing to do that again...

He runs his fingers through his unkempt hair with a quiet huff, the subtle sensation of your lips brushing against his knuckles both a blessing and a curse. He's definitely the weird one here. Claire probably would have laughed her ass off at him right now, and he can't really blame her. His gaze is fixed on you, his eyes lingering on your face for far longer than necessary, trying to read between the lines, to figure out what you're thinking in that head of yours. He's itching to say something, anything, to break the weighty silence that has now enveloped the small, confined room... but the words continue to stubbornly elude him. Instead, he awkwardly clears his throat again, almost like something got stuck in there. But, really, he is simply suddenly overtaken by a strong desire for physical contact with you. One he isn't sure what to do with.

You shake your head and speak up again, for which he is definitely grateful, his mind instantly rushing to cling to your words. Anything to escape from the rising disarray his head is in.

"Well, hey, at least it gave us a chance to patch you up properly."

You glare at the old bandage, stained with blood from his shoulder's bullet wound, that you had taken off earlier and left crumpled on the floor. As Leon once again remembers the wound on his shoulder, he trembles slightly, following your gaze down at the blood-stained bandage lying on the floor. He finds that cute. How you almost scrunch your nose up at that dirty thing. Like it's a living thing that caused him so much problems.

Despite him being very much shirtless, he still feels a bit too hot for his liking.

"I guess it did, yeah," he says, his voice sounding rather strained. Restlessly, he shifts on the bed again, desperately searching for something else to talk about. However, his mind stubbornly keeps returning to the sensation of your lips on his skin, and an unfamiliar longing gradually rises within him, tugging at his heartstrings...

But longing for what exactly?

He suppresses his thoughts and bites his tongue, feeling a bit embarrassed by the intensity of his desire. He feels like a complete idiot. Getting all worked up over nothing. He glances at you once again, his eyes lingering on your face momentarily before dropping to your hands resting in your lap.

"Uh... thanks again, by the way. You know. For taking care of me and all," he blurts out, trying to resist the temptation to reach out and hold your hand, his own hands now clenching into fists on either side of him on the bed.

"No problem. We're a team, remember?" you say in a more cheerful manner, giving him a slight smile. One that he returns almost on a whim. Though, as you look at him a bit closer, you hum and reach back for the antibacterial cream. Before he knows it, he feels the pads of your fingers dabbing the cool cream on the side of his cheek. You applying the cream to his cheek leaves him feeling a slight sting, but the warmth of your touch on his skin helps to distract him from it. He didn't even realize he had a cut there. He's pretty sure it was relatively tiny. It wasn't really needed at all to take care of it, but you still did it anyway, and your smile grew a little wider as you pulled your hand away. "-There. Good as new. Y'know... ignoring the bullet wound, huge scary bruises and a good number of cuts."

Despite knowing he's far from 'good as new', Leon can't help but laugh at your playful comment. It helps him relax a little, some weight lifted off his shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah, keep making fun of me. You didn't like it so much when those dogs were trying to bite your face off, huh?" A small smirk forms on his face as he teases you back in a lighthearted manner that a good friend would. Though, the subject is rather... morbid. But it helps to joke about those things. A little.

He wants to say more, to come up with something witty or charming, maybe even muster up some cheesy pick-up lime to try and see if he can get away with it. But as he glances at you again, his words become stuck in his throat all over again. It's impossible for him not to focus on your face, taking in every tiny detail and drinking them all in with a hunger that feels almost scarily insatiable. This particular moment between you two has an oddly charged quality to it, as if there's more than just friendly banter filling the stale air of the motel room. He feels an intense and unexplainable desire to be closer to you, to touch you, to...

He swallows hard, trying to push these invasive thoughts out of his head. He chastises himself internally for being absurd. After all, you're just a friend and teammate. Supposedly. Whatever you were to him, his behavior is strange, like an infatuated teenager with a pathetic crush he has no idea what to do with. For fuck's sake, he is a 21-year-old police officer.

...Technically speaking, that is.

But he lacks any sort of control over his heart rate or sweaty palms. He can't help but look down at your lips repeatedly, as if he's being persuaded to do so against his own will.

As you let out a weary sigh of your own, you seem to be utterly oblivious to the inner struggle he is currently experiencing unbeknownst to you. The room is quiet, but your troubled and contemplative gaze is fixed ahead of you instead of looking at him. Leon doesn't know if that makes him feel better or worse. A huge, pathetic part of him wants your eyes to be on him, to be your center of attention like he was moments prior. But another part of him is utterly mortified at the prospect, knowing he'll probably just fumble like an idiot if you were to meet his blatant stare right now.

He's stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The shutter cracks welcome the morning sunlight in, creating long, bright yellow stripes across your features. You look beautiful like this, but he can't help but want to know what's on your mind that has you looking so distant, like you're in a world completely separate from this one. And them, much like you did with the kiss to his knuckles, you don't say anything to warn him. He just watches as you lean down and rest your head on his good shoulder. You remain silent, immersed in your own thoughts. Almost like it's a completely normal thing to do between you two. Or maybe you just don't want to address it? He couldn't really figure it out. He couldn't figure you out. And he couldn't really figure himself out, either.

Everything was a big, convoluted mess.

Another strong rush of emotions hits him straight across the face at the sudden closeness you grace him with. It's funny, really. Here he was, wanting to get all close and personal with you, and now that that's exactly what's happening, his brain is completely blank. He makes an effort to take a deep breath, but it comes out shaky and uneven. He is also suddenly acutely aware of his own lack of clothing on his upper half. He longs to express himself to you in some meaningful way, but still finds himself unable to say a single damn word. A chaotic mix of thoughts and cravings overwhelms his mind, taking over his every sense. Gradually, he does manage to bring himself to move. To extend his arm and gently drape it around your shoulders, drawing you in closer to him, watching how you'd react and if he should pull back and shower you with awkward apologies that were already forming on the tip of his tongue. He can sense the gentle, rhythmic pulsation of your heart against his bare skin, and that feeling is almost intoxicating in how soothing it is.

He kind of wishes he could lay his head down directly on your chest, just to listen to your heartbeat. That would certainly keep his head empty of any and all thoughts, big and small.

You make a soft noise that sounds like one of approval, moving slightly closer to him, your bodies now comfortably intertwined in a clumsy side-snuggle. A surge of protectiveness suddenly comes over Leon when you cuddle closer to him like that. Silently, he squeezes you a just a little bit tighter, letting a pleasant shiver run down his spine as your body touches his, filling out the dips and contours of his form with your own, almost like two puzzle pieces fitting together. The gesture holds an undeniable amount of intimacy, and he feels a strong desire to just keep holding you and never let go.

Now, Leon finds himself being silent to conserve the moment, rather than due to awkwardness. There is a delicate sense of wordless understanding and reliance that has formed between you, without it having to be solely platonic or romantic in nature. He's uncertain how to interpret it exactly, and whether you even want him to interpret it in some specific way. For now, he simply acknowledges that your warm presence near him sooths him in a way that he desperately needs, regardless of what that entails for you two. In a way, it gives him a feeling of calmness he was longing for this entire time. A brief reprieve from all the chaos and uncertainty of the past, present, and future.

He leans forward, carefully placing his chin on top of your head, and then closes his eyes, focusing on nothing but the soft feeling of your body pressed against his. He can hear the soft and soothing sound of your breath and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, which makes him feel strangely...

At peace.

He can feel you nuzzle into him ever so slightly, clearly being careful not to disturb his achy shoulder, which makes him smile fondly, finding the gesture endearing in a pure and uncomplicated manner. It is comforting to not be alone, in a fundamentally human sense. Maybe he needed a moment such as this one for a while now. He just didn't know that until he had it.

Leon inhales the scent of your hair as he takes a deep breath. It smells of motel's cheap shampoo, which is unsurprising. All four of them probably smell the same right now. But he doesn't really care. He is unable to resist the urge to bury his nose into your hair slightly, as if attempting to absorb your scent. Is that a bit weird on his part? Maybe. But he feels far too content to care about his dignity at this point.

Tgough, the moment breaks rather abruptly, as you move pull back from him, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. Leon feels a familiar sense of disappointment deep in his gut when you withdraw from him, but he tries his best to conceal it from you, not wanting to appear too needy in front of you. Even if he really was needy. Despite his heart still racing, he shakes it off and attempts to appear unaffected. Very poorly.

"...Sorry. You must be cold like that. The cream probably settled already, so..." you mutter out without looking at him directly, but he cuts you off, the words leaving the tip of his tongue before he can think them through.

"It's fine," his tone is gruff. "I'm not cold."

Despite being aware that there is nothing inherently intimate about this situation, he still feels oddly exposed in front of you. The thought of you observing his bare skin out in the open only increases his already fast-paced heartbeat. After all the events of the night before, it feels... strange to feel his blood pumping in his temples, and it not being a result of something horrifying or life-threatening. He attempts to divert his eyes from you, but they persistently return back to your face. He was being drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Though, your warmth was nothing like one coming from a flame. He wasn't scared of you burning him if he gets too close. No, rather, he was terrified of your gentle light to turn off, leaving him without its comforting warmth to grasp onto.

He can't help but focus on your lips in particular, already reminiscing about the moment you kissed his knuckles. His thoughts are now pretty much haunted by this one memory, replaying it incessantly like a broken record.

Don't give in, don't give in, don't give in...

He repeats it to himself in his own head, but he finds it increasingly harder and harder to follow his own advice. His hands are clenched tightly on his lap, causing his bruised knuckles ache in protest. But it's all he can do to resists the urge to reach out to you, and...

"-Sorry," you suddenly repeat, your attention fully focused on his tightly clenched hands. Damn it, you probably think he's uncomfortable or something. He can see that guilty look in your eyes, and he hates it. He doesn't want you to look at him like that. "I... didn't mean to make things weird. Don't worry about it. I don't-"

Leon shakes his head, but keeps looking straight at your face dutifully. His heart is beating so fast that it seems like it could burst straight out of his chest any moment now, eager to show you how excited you truly make him with the smallest of things. It's becoming almost too much for him to handle the desire to kiss you. And not just your knuckles.

"No... it's not that," he protests in a slightly hoarse voice. His words stop as he shifts his eyes down to your lips again and then back up to meet your hesitant gaze, searching for something he can't really put his finger on. He is able to see every aspect of your face crystal clear in the soft light of the morning sun: the way your eyelashes create faint shadows on your cheeks, the gentle curve of your lips, the subtle color flush on your skin. "You didn't make things weird. I just..."

Your lashes flutter, your body tensing ever so slightly as you finally take notice of his very apparent staring, causing Leon to hold his breath momentarily. A part of him expects to receive a scolding he probably deserves. But it never comes. Instead, an unexpected sense of tension settles between you, catching him completely off guard and leaving him uncertain about where this was going exactly. Or maybe he just doesn't want to acknowledge the truth. Even so, he allows it to persist and guide him without any resistance or attempts to distance himself from you. Not that he wants to resist this pull in the first place.

He can almost taste the saltiness of your skin on his lips. He can almost hear the soft sound of your breath. And he can almost sense the subtle scent that is uniquely yours. The emotional intimacy between you is almost too much for him handle. So, without much thought, he moves in and gently cups your cheek, lifting your face towards his, wanting - no, needing - to be closer to you.

"...Leon?"

The subtle sound of your voice uttering his name causes his heart to stop momentarily. He can see it in your eyes that you do understand the silent implication behind this sudden action of his. After all, clarification is not exactly necessary to catch on to what he trying to do here. The feel of your skin beneath his fingers sends a slight shiver through his body. Despite this, your eyes remain locked together, almost as if you were sharing a wordless conversation between each other.

Leon swallows. He gently strokes your lower lip with his thumb, relishing in the sensation of it beneath his fingertip. Even if it's chapped and dry from last night's events. His voice is just a soft whisper now as he voices the silent question that's on the forefront of his mind: "...Can I kiss you?"

There is a moment of hesitation between you, but you don't move to pull away or reject him. He can guess that you're mulling over your own thoughts and doubts in that pretty head of yours. Though he wishes he could know what you're thinking of right now. If you want this as much as he does. But he waits patiently for you to share your answer with him once you do find it. Whatever it may be.

And then, you give him a slow nod.

As you stare back at him, Leon feels a sudden tightness in his throat. He knows he's being a bit too emotional about all of this, but your little nod feels like an agreement, approval, and acceptance all at once. Without any further delay, he leans in and gently cups your other cheek now as well, holding your face in his palms, letting your breaths mix for just a smidge of a moment.

Is it a wise decision? Clearly not. You've just met. The fact that you were able to survive a dangerous and challenging situation together doesn't alter that fact. However... in a way, it still does. Leon feels secure with you. The unspoken trust built between you two is difficult to articulate in words. The kind of trust that can only form when you experience a challenging ordeal only you can understand the full extent of. Which is why he doesn't try to explain it. Not when you two can explore it through action, instead.

When he does finally lean towards you, you meet him halfway, much to his relief, your lips inevitably locking together lightly. He closes his eyes and drinks in the delicate sensation of warmth and comfort that comes from sharing this simple human contact with you. The sensation of your lips on his makes Leon's mind blissfully empty. He resists the urge to embrace you tightly and hold you close. Compared to the intense passion he feels burning within his chest, the kiss itself feels hesitant and almost innocent in nature. Nonetheless, it triggers a pleasant surge of heat in his veins. He can feel the warm of your hand on his skin as you place it atop of one of his own hands cradling your cheeks, causing his heart to beat even faster within his chest.

Your circumstances don't make it particularly romantic or mind-blowing. The kiss is a bit clumsy, as first kisses usually are, when you don't exactly know how to fall into step with the other person yet. Your lips are dry and cracked, just like his are, due to the previous night. There is even a faint taste of blood that can be felt in the kiss, as one of you definitely split their lip during the numerous falls you both endured. However, none of that is a major issue for him. If anything, it makes it more precious in his mind. How real and authentic it feels.

The kiss is a soft and lingering one that doesn't extend beyond that.

And when you eventually pull apart from one another, concluding the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours, keeping his eyes closed tightly, a shaky breath leaving his lips. Your hand remains on top of his, the touch bringing him a nice feel of wordless reassurance. That you're really there. That you did just kiss, and it wasn't just some weird trick of his frazzled mind.

You weren't going away. Nor were you asking anything of him with that kiss. It was just a kiss. No hidden meanings or agendas in mind. Somehow, that makes it all that much more meaningful for him.

There is a strange sense of vulnerability he has to get used to, both physically and emotionally. The intensity of his emotions causes his body to tremble slightly against you. He remains close to you like this for a couple of long minutes, unprepared for the enchanting moment to come to its inevitable end. He absorbs the subtle scent of your hair hitting his nose, the warm sensation of your skin on his, and the soothing sound of your breath. He longs for this moment to last, and finding his voice again after kissing becomes a rather difficult task.

You also exhale, calming down after that short but sweet moment of connection with him. You don't express much about what just happened between you. You don't think it's even necessary. You simply know that it was sincere and enjoyable. And it seems that Leon felt the same way, too. At least you hope he does. Whatever that meant for your relationship in the long run, you know you don't regret it. You keep your eyes shut for a few more moments, staying close to him.

"Y/N..." he whispers your name in a low voice that sounds almost shy. You can't help but find the sound of him like this rather adorable, your heart giving out a subtle flutter in your chest.

Leon opens his eyes slightly, the blues of his irises meeting yours intently as you follow suit. The soft kiss you just shared is still running through your heart, leaving you feeling just slightly giddy. As you often do after kissing someone you like for the first time. And that dopey look of his is just too damn cute to bear.

So, you blurt out the first thing you that comes to mind.

"...You know, I actually hate cops."

Leon blinks. Once. Twice. Thrice.

...Alright, that was probably not the most romantic thing to say right after kissing him for the first time.

"Uh... Really?" he manages to ask, even though he's obviously still very much dazed from the kiss. Which is honestly kind of endearing, considering how it was just a short but sweet little kiss. You can't help but wonder how he'd look if you kissed him again, properly this time. How he would look at you if you were to lean in and kiss him senseless. But you don't do that. For now, at least. Either way, it's obvious that the emotional whiplash you just gave him with your silly comment only contributed to the stupefied look he's giving you. "But you just kissed one..."

Leon's lips form a small but genuine smile as he lets out a quiet little laugh, a clear hint of disbelief in his voice. You feel his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks gently as he continues to hold your face in his hands, the sensation warm and comforting to your heart.

"Huh. You're right. I guess I'm being a bit hypocritical today," you chortle, a small giggle leaving your lips in return. You can see his smile growing in response to your laugh, and it's a sight a bit too adorable for you right now.

He has a pretty smile.

"I guess you are," he agrees, his eyes briefly glancing over your face, as if he was taking in your features. Or maybe he was just marveling at how beat up you look. "But I don't mind. I think... I sort of like you being hypocritical. Just a little."

With another soft laugh, you gently squeeze his hand on your cheek, tilting your head to the side slightly and resting your face against his palm, practically nuzzling into a bit. You press his hand closer to your cheek and close your eyes for a moment, a content sigh leaving your lips. Your peaceful expression of serenity mirrors Leon's, as he looks on at you with that same sense of quiet satisfaction and solace that was filling the quiet space between you.

Your chest tightens as you feel his thumbs stroke your skin again, the touch gentle and light. The soothing warmth and softness of his skin on yours causes your heart to skip a beat. You suddenly find yourself seriously struggling to resist the urge to kiss him again. It wasn't just a passing curious thought anymore, but a genuine desire you are itching to fulfill. But, for now, you just exhale and enjoy this fragile moment as it is. At this very minute, all the chaos and peril you two have dealt with vanish from your mind at long last. Replaced by this tranquil, modest motel room, reserved only for you and him. At the very least, for this brief moment.

Unfortunately, your little exchange is abruptly interrupted by the earth-shattering sound of a door suddenly bursting open, none other than Claire entering the compact room without any warning given to either of you. That, or maybe you two were just far too lost in each other to hear the approaching footsteps or chatter. A peppy grin is brightening up the redhead's features as she strides in with no care in the world, seemingly far too engrossed into some vigorous discussion with Sherry to fully notice you quite yet. If it wasn't for the situation at hand, you'd probably comment on how buddy-buddy they looked: swaggering in hand-in-hand, almost like two sisters would.

The entire space is quickly overpowered with the strong aroma of freshly cooked greasy food, and you immediately feel your stomach twist and turn in clear demand for some much-needed sustenance. The bags of what looked like your standard roadside diner takeout sure looked promising right about now.

"Rise and shine, dynamic duo! Breakfast's here- Oh."

As Claire's bright eyes inevitably land on the two of you, she stops right in her tracks, just blinking at you for a second or two. Sherry, in turn, appears to be just as surprised, not that you expected anything else at this point.

...And you feel a strong urge to sink straight into the ground.

As if he's been burned, Leon abruptly jerks away from you and releases his hold on your face. Your heart pounds all the way up in your throat, and you can already feel the heat of embarrassment rushing to your face. Glancing over at Leon, he doesn't seem to be handling it all that much better, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted in silent protest that just didn't form yet. Though, there is also a subtle hint of embarrassed annoyance flashing through his eyes as he meets Claire's look. A look that is no longer surprised, but instead, expecting. And a bit smug.

You're in for a questioning.

As expected, she is quick to regain her cool, raising her brows at both of you and closing the door with her hips, an incredulous snort leaving her lips. You can already guess that she's not going to live this down for the two of you. Before you can open your mouth and stutter out some type of excuse that would hopefully sound decent, Leon beats you to it.

"Jesus Christ, Claire! Knock much?" he grumbles out in a raspy and slightly trembling voice. If it wasn't for the burning embarrassment raging inside your head, you would have thought that was cute. He isn't really fooling anyone.

"Excuse me," Claire muses in a slightly humorous manner. "Care to tell what's gotten you shirtless? Or... who?"

Now it's up to you to sputter as you stumble over your words to try and rectify the situation.

"I-I was just changing his bandages!"

Claire just laughs at that, with Sherry now joining in a fit of giggles. The sound is lighthearted in nature, though. Just harmless fun that just happens to be at your expense. Well, partially. Your only choice is to accept your defeat, hanging your head low with a flustered groan. Leon's embarrassment only increases as laughter rings out. He crosses his arms over his chest, a pout quickly taking form on his face.

"Ugh, you two really have a knack for bad timing. And... for the record, it's none of your business what we were doing," even though he tries to sound irritated, his flushed face and the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips diminish the desired effect, making his effort useless.

"-Whatever you say, loverboy," Claire deadpans, giving you both a knowing smirk as she waves Leon off. It's apparent that she doesn't believe any of your shared excuses. Not that you can blame her. You'd probably act the same if you switched places. She takes her sweet time placing the warm fast-food bags on the nearest counter and brushing her hands off on her jeans. "Anyway, you better get dressed before the grub gets cold and soggy."

In spite of all the embarrassment, you can't help but chuckle sheepishly and shake your head. Despite being flustered, it's almost... comforting to share such a normal, simple moment over some silly accident instead of a high-stakes situation. You'll take getting teased by Claire over running for your life any day.

You watch as Leon huffs and puffs at Claire fruitlessly. He mumbles something inaudible under his breath, unfolding his arms, and quickly walking across the room to pick up his discarded shirt from the ground. He hastily puts it back on, all while stealing a couple of glances back at you. You don't know if he's trying to subtle about it, but if he is, it's definitely not working. A small, almost bashful smile appears on his face as he does, similar to the one you give to your crush when you think they're not looking. It's cute. You can't help but return it with a smile of your own.

"Well I think you two look cute," Sherry joins in, her hands resting on her hips as her blue eyes dart between you two with eager curiosity. You can already tell that you're in for a game of 20 questions after this. Or something similar.

"Cute, huh...?" Sherry's charming comment seems to inspire Leon's bashful smile to grow in confidence while he looks down at her. He almost appears a bit cheeky, as raises an eyebrow and gives you a quick side-eyed look. "What do you think? Do we make a cute couple?"

"...Don't get cocky now," you huff out with a lighthearted roll of your eyes, prompting him and Claire to chuckle.

As you go to grab some much-needed food, you feel oddly light, both in mind and spirit. All the anxieties and uncertainties about your future seem to have eased away, letting you enjoy the peacefulness of now, instead of worrying about tomorrow.

Whatever happens next, you just know that everything will turn out fine.

As long as you stick together.

#resident evil #resident evil 2 remake #re2r #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil 2 remake leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #re2r leon x reader #UHHHH i think i tagged it okay??? re fandom's etiquette with tagging on here is confusing to me lmao #do let me know if i messed it up :)#anyways re fic debut yippee #last time i wrote for leon was in my teenage years lmao i do hope i gave this boy justice #even if in different form #spoiler alert: they do NOT stick together #kinda wish i made claire's scene a bit longer bc i love her sm #also fun fact: i went and listened to leon's voice files in re2r to help with his dialogue #got baffled by how much he swears #had to go and redo his dialogue after that😭#it's kinda funny how he doesn't swear as much while you play #that or i just didn't notice bc i was swearing up a storm myself #english is not really my first language btw so sorry if there are some weird phrases here and there #pretty sure i wrote nightstand as bedstand.... i can't remember if i fixed it or not

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

Text

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Not The Same

He's not the same- and neither are you. And you'll never be, as long as he can prevent that.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, fluff??, injury

Length: 2.8k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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You really only sleep on the ship and leave right after, because Jungkook told you he doesn't trust them enough to stay much longer than you both have to.

And you'd also probably be in the way of repairs- so you both roam around the surrounding city instead, looking around for ways to make money.

Jungkook plans on selling some of the cargo he has. Mainly Steel from earth- though the issue is that currently, no vendor you've visited wants to take it, and any other one that's in the surrounding areas is way too far away out of town to just walk to. There's some alarm to take caution today, because a certain gas is higher in the atmosphere especially outside of the city- so Jungkook denied any of your attempts at telling him to go alone instead then, since his body would not really have any reaction to the change in the air.

But he refuses. Says he can't leave you alone, for some reason you're not sure of.

What he doesn't take into account is however, that he does, occasionally, leave you out of sight. For example right now, as he went into a store to buy something- and you can't stand here and just wait until disaster strikes. He needs the money, his ship is important- and from what you could tell from the destination coordinates inside the control station, he seems to have a tight schedule ahead that he already will have trouble to keep up. And either way, it's time for you to repay him his hospitality- after all, the only reason you're healthy and still alive and not in captivity, is because he simply decided that.

And it's a kind decision, even if he didn't mean for it to be one.

So you feel in your pocket for the little device for his ship, and look for an opportunity to vanish- doing it exactly as he seems to argue about payment for something, a perfect chance since he's distracted now.

The city is bustling, loud, fast paced and intimidating. But it's nothing you can't manage- signs and a rough idea of the city's layout giving you enough hints to help you know where you have to go. That place is a vendor, far out of town- about a three hour walk. Manageable- you're used to walking most of the days anyways from your past homelessness on earth, so it's not out of question.

You just hope that you find the right person, and don't run into some bad news along the way.

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Back at the store, Jungkook is absolutely panicking inside.

You're gone, completely vanished, not even a trace of your scent remaining to help him find you. And while he could always just regroup and settle himself before freaking out, you kind of have his main communication device with you- which makes him worry about your intentions, considering how much you've tried just hours prior to make him sell you after all, just to fund the repairs for his ship.

He can't even think about doing that. He's not his father.

He asks around if anyone has seen you, before he even thinks about your collar. He could just have you searched by law enforcement, and he's steady on the way towards a station, when he stutters. They'll probably shoot you down if you run, and considering your past, you'd definitely run.

So instead, he walks around, goes hint after hint to somehow try and figure out what the hell your plan is. You definitely didn't return to the ship, so he's safe in that department- it would be a nightmare to somehow make those guys understand that you are not for sale, and weren't allowed to just.. sell yourself like that. And if he was to lock his communication device, they'd surely ping you and you'd be labeled a thief- which would just get you hunted down again.

For now, you're safe with his collar around your neck, his name, ship number and citizen ID engraved in it. Currently, you're owned and basically free to move around-

and he hopes you don't get the stupid idea of trying to get rid of it.

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Your nose is burning. The back of your throat is equally in pain- just like your chest, breath tasting like iron as if you'd ran a marathon too fast, too long. But it doesn't matter, because you finally spot the sign towards the vendor ahead.

The large tent is quiet, but at least it's shielded from the scolding sun, a little cooler but stuffy from all the cargo that's catching dust out here in the desert. A man, three eyes in his face with one closed permanently, is looking at you. "What'cha here for, pet?" He chuckles lowly, like a man who's smoked since he was born. He's pretty overweight, hammock-like seating arrangement creaking a little as his body shakes with laughter. "Come 'ere. What does your master want, eh?" He asks, and you walk closer, holding out the communication device that displays the currently loaded cargo in Jungkook's ship.

"120 tons of Steel. Earth-made." You say, though your throat hurts when you talk. "I heard you're currently looking for that." You say, as the man leans closer, and hums, clearly interested. Only now do you notice the two extra sets of arms he has, three fingers on every hand, claw like tips dull, not sharp.

"Indeed.." He mumbles. "What does he want for it?" He asks, and you swallow the stale tasting saliva, clearing your throat.

"Whatever you can offer." You say, remembering how much Jungkook had paid, according to the data on his device. "At least twenty-five hundred though."

"Pah!" He laughs, leaning back. "He's one stupid fella if he sends his pet to get money!" The guy laughs. "You get thirty six hundred."

"Forty flat." You say.

"Thirty five, now that you're trying to be bold, little brat." He growls. "I could just shoot you right now, and take the license for the goods instead."

"Then my collar will send a distress signal to my master immediately." You say. "He's waiting for me, after all. And he probably knows the worth of the goods a lot better."

"Are you threatening me?" He asks lowly, squinting sharply at you.

"I'm just offering the option to agree on a price with a 'pet' that's not aware of the actual worth of the goods she's supposed to sell." You shrug.

It's tense for a good moment, and suddenly, the man laughs, loudly enough to reverb in the metal vases stored around, hammock shaking under his weight.

"You're a lovely little thing!" He roars. "I almost want to buy you instead!" He chuckles, slowly calming down. "Forty flat, agreed. Give me the thing so I can pay-"

"I'll need it.. physically." You tell him, trying to keep your face stoic despite your growing fear.

"He taught you well. Ah, at least I'll get my things." He mumbles, searching under the large table full of things for something- filling a bag with metal currencies, same one's Jungkook and everyone else uses commonly. "Forty five." He purrs, putting the bag on the table. "Just because you're very entertaining." The alien man rumbles towards you, pushing the bag closer with one of his clawed fingers. "Buy yourself something nice with it." He laughs, as you take the bag, and tap on the device to sell the goods- hovering it over a glowing patch on the metal table that's clearly meant for the signal of the device you're holding.

'Ownership transferred to: Yaelno 'Spider' Spyolden.' is seen displayed as a message.

"I will have my men pick up the goods tomorrow morning." Yaelno tells you. "You should go home now, little pet. I bet your master already misses his dog." He roars with laughter, as you snatch the bag and practically run out of the tent.

Only when you're far away enough to not see the tent clearly anymore do you check the bag to count- and the man was true to his word, currency real, shining with the distinctive rainbow- shimmer that can't be replicated, and the Number of bigger and smaller coins adds up to the amount you agreed on with the man.

Even the extra adds up.

The only thing that you now feel could become a problem, is the storm- throwing sand left and right around you, while the air feels scratchy in your throat, stinging in your eyes with every breath you take. You try and use your shirt over your mouth, but it's useless- you can't really see properly anymore, barely reaching the first few metal sheds outside of town, when you hide behind a wall, curling up after hiding the bag of money under your clothes.

You made it- but you somehow failed, too. What a mess.

And only faintly, as you lose consciousness, do you notice someone crouching down in front of your body now laying on your side on the ground, a hand pulling the collar a little to read what's engraved in the tracker, which's LED light is now blinking red due to your body being in clear distress.

A sigh is heard. A low voice speaks- mostly to himself.

"Jeon Jungkook.." The voice mumbles, almost disappointed, but also a little amused. "..You're just like your father after all."

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──👽── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"You have to help me." Jungkook immediately barks at his long time friend, who steps aside after Jungkook just walked in.

"Ah yes, Jungkook, of course you can come inside, make yourself at home. I'm doing great, thanks for asking-" The man says, before Jungkook turns around, eyes a stressed turquoise color.

"I'm not kidding around- I need to find something.!" He presses on, while his friend helps him sit in the kitchen area of the metal house, inner walls padded with fabrics and pelts to keep the warmth inside. "I lost someone-"

"I know." He says, a gentle smile on his lips. "Nah- sit down. You're way too agitated right now to think clearly." He pushes the Alien back into his chair, anger slowly mixing into the colors of his eyes. "She's fine- Yoongi is looking after her right now." He explains, filling a glass with water before he sets it onto the table. "Why was she out alone anyways?"

"She wasn't-" Jungkook rubs his hands over his face. "I just- I went into a store to get her those stupid.. things she needs for knitting or something, and when I-"

"You bought her knitting equipment?" The man laughs. "That's adorable, Jungkook!"

"Seokjin, shut up, it's not about that!" Jungkook growls. "Anyways, I came back out and she was gone. I have no idea where she went or why!" He sighs, finally taking the glass to drink from it.

"Well, she had a pretty hefty amount of cash on her, that's for sure." Jin says, sitting down in front of Jungkook, who's eyes are now full of a surprised blue. "And your general communication device too- though it was locked." He informs his friend in front of him, who's clearly finally coming down, emotionally, from all the stress he's been through. "What's she to you anyways? A partner?" He wonders.

"No-" Jungkook denies. "-I'm not sure anymore.." He says, staring into the water in his glass. "She snuck on board. Didn't care if she died. Even now-" He sighs. "She wanted me to sell her to the mechanics so I could get it fixed."

"So you took her in." Jin gently finishes, though Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, I'm just-" He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, thinking clearly. "I haven't found the appropriate planet for her yet." He excuses.

"Uh-huh." Seokjin lifts a brow in question. "That's why you went out and got her knitting-stuff."

"Well, she's bored!" Jungkook defends himself, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. "Doesn't have anything to do, can't read well, doesn't know how to steer a ship or calculate maps. I don't have any kind of job for her." He says.

"So you don't want her to be bored." Jin offers. "You want her to be happy." He teases, making Jungkook growl while his eyes can't hide the embarrassed pinkish hue.

"Fuck off." He simply responds, when a door opens.

"Oh." Yoongi says, his cat-like ears turning towards him, tail snapping upwards in interest. "She's asleep, but fine." He offers, only somewhat leaning the door closed, keeping it open for a bit in case he's needed back inside. "Throat's irritated as hell. She won't talk for a little while, that's for sure." He says, bumping his head into Jungkook's- a common greeting amongst the shorter Alien's kind. "The hell was she doing outside?" He wonders, filling a glass with water for himself.

"Jungkookie bought her some supplies so she can have a hobby while he explores the galaxy with her~" Seokjin teases, earning a glare from the younger alien.

"Oh really? Thought you wouldn't go for a human, considering you didn't want to be like your father."

It's deadly quiet as the sentence is spoken, even Seokjin now on edge as Jungkook's white eyes stare at the tabletop.

The worst thing is, that Jungkook can't even deny any of it. He doesn't know why he's getting attached to you, why he can't seem to get rid of you even if the world offers him chance after chance. He could've left you twice already- but he can't do it. He actually enjoys your company, especially after letting you inside the command central. You're calm, and easy, and you feel good to be around- and yeah, maybe his ship has been fucking lonely all those years that he's lived this life.

Is he just like his father after all?

"No." Jungkook says, quietly. "I'm not like him."

"So you're not her partner?" Yoongi wonders, and Jungkook shakes his head, eyes swirling colors, unsure what's really going on inside him. "Interesting. Maybe we could keep her here then?" He looks at Seokjin. "Or I could take her with me. I'm sure my partner would enjoy some fellow human company-"

"She's not going with you." Jungkook denies. "Neither is she staying with Jin. She's registered under my name."

"So she is your partner-" Yoongi jabs again.

"She's not!" Jungkook bursts out. "She's-" He searches frantically inside his head for an answer that could satisfy not only his friends, but himself also. What are you? You're definitely not the same as all the other humans. So what the hell are you?

"She's a friend." Jungkook finally decides, not only for now, but in general. "She's a friend, and she's coming with me." He says, a final tone to his voice that let's no argument get involved again.

"Jungkook." Yoongi says, tiny tufts of hair on the tips of his cat ears swaying a bit in the wind of the fan close by. "You know that I just tried to help you, right?" He offers, as the fellow alien of a different kind looks at him. "Of course you're not like him." He says. "And neither is she the same as your mother-"

"Absolutely not." Jungkook says, standing up at that- the mention of his mother clearly setting him off. "-I'll make sure she doesn't end up like her." He says, before he walks into your room where you're sleeping, a soft but thin blanket over your body, sensor attached to your forehead to measure your temperature.

And yet again, just sitting close to you is already putting him at ease again. He feels ten times better than just moments ago, simply because he can watch you breathe and be assured that you're fine now. He slowly moves to the little bag of money, counting it, an unsure and most of all surprised expression on his face at the sheer amount of it all, before he spots his communication device.

And unlocking it gives him all the answers.

"You sly little devil.." He mumbles to himself, chuckling a little under his breath. You must've overheard him the entire time at the vendors where he tried to get rid of the slowly rusting metal inside his ship- but the fact that you sold it for almost more than double the amount he thought he'd ever get on this planet, is astonishing.

You're full of surprises- and maybe even more than he thought.

Maybe keeping you at his side isn't such a bad idea after all.

Maybe he should let you stay.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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orphicrose · 8 months ago

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The Co-Host (Alastor x FemReader) VIII

< >

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

Warnings ! ! Mentions of Death and Bl00D

@cannibalcoyote @kahlan170 @sugxryratz @multifandom-superlover

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Heart full of feelings that felt as if didn't belong to her. She felt like the shell of a person, not truly existing anymore. Having a constant out of body experience.

While he, he grieved. Grieved a relationship that never had the chance to fully blossom. Grieved what could have been, grieved who he used to be or had the chance to be. Oh, what his mother must think of him now. He never even had a chance to think about what everyone still alive thought of him, his little secret having an audience to witness. Lose ends ruining his reputation as a beloved media presence, turning him into a notorious serial killer. He knew he belonged down here, he knew he deserved everything that came his way. But the question still begged, why was she down here. Was it because she sold her soul to th devil? Or was it for a reason far to unruly to share to the light.

His hands sweat as the journal stay to close grip between his fingers. Never leaving his side. There was far more to read in a safer environment. His path was obstructed by a tall figure, appearing out of the thin air around him.

"So we finally meet, Alastor" Satans demeanor cold, as usual, and his stance meaning one of business. Hands tucked neatly into his trouser pockets.

"Satan, I assume?" Alastors smile gleamed in the light of the pentagram. Baring his sharp teeth like a predator. "How do i deserve this honor?"

Satan began to move towards the wendigo, towering over him. "As I'm sure you're aware, y/n works for me" He hummed, circling Alastor like he was going to attack at any second. "And you..." He paused to give out a deep laugh "Well, you are disrupting my line of production. You see, millions of sinners on Earth call my name daily. Wanting to make a deal. And the more souls I have, the more power I have. But y/n is the only one i trust far enough to have the duty of collecting said souls. and you" He leapt forward, holding Alastor's chin upwards with the tip of his cane. "You meddeling with her is distracting . You're costing me money, radio demon"

Eye contact was held strongly between the two, not wanting to fault to show weakness. "You want the closure of knowing your little pet isn't the saint you want to believe?" Alastor wanted to say no so badly, wanted to stay ignorant. Wanted to hold onto the belief that there was still hope for y/n to not be the same at him. He didn't want to be the Clyde to her Bonnie, he wanted to be the story she'd tell to friends in heaven. To her mother, or her father.

"She's just like you" His voice taunted, leaning closer into his ear. The words he oh so desperately never wanted to hear.

Y/n strolled through the lit up streets of hell, admiring the buildings towering over her. Something she had never really done before. Casual sinners in the streets cowering at the sight of her, leaving her a free path to walk in as they fled. Slamming doors behind them. What a skill to have, but how lonely it made her feel.

She arrived at the doors of her place of work. At first, hesitating to open the doors. Afraid of what might wait on the other side this time. But when she did open them, she found nothing. Silence and isolation filled the chambers of the rooms. It was eerie. Usually tensions built with high stress levels as soon as she walked in, demons bouncing off each other as they run from room to room. But the haunting recent history of this workplace made it seemingly abandoned. Of course, they wouldn't get away with holiday for long, for as long as Satan breathed. But for now, she would revel in the periodic silence of the structure.

Her office, the only untouched room in the building, brought her some comfort. Nothing having changed. Just as soon as she started to loosen up, her door flung open. The tall red demon appearing in front of her eyes. The same fear she felt the first time they encountered returning, sinking into her chair as he moved through the doorway and shut it behind him. "What do you want?" Her eyes showing a slowly boiling rage building up inside her. Seemingly, he was experiencing the same feeling.

He took a seat opposite her, hands sat on the desk. "I want answers, miss l/n" She stood from her seat abruptly, moving backwards. His eyes turned from frustration to a saddened look. Confused as to her shift in temperament towards him. Had he missed something?

"When were you going to tell me we knew each other?" Her question caught him of guard, looking up to her and waiting for more. She relived the memory, him covered in blood. "What is this?" She slammed down the leaflet on the desk. Alastor let out a loud sigh, he must have forgotten to put it away yesterday. She spoke loudly, halfway to shouting at him. Tears welling and dropping slowly to the floor in a rhythmic pattern.

"Are you the reason I'm down here? Did you murder me?"

"No!" His tone enraged by the accusation, rising to his feet to share her eyeline. "I think you'll find you're the reason I'm here, y/n"

She stood in silence, tears picking up there pace as they dampen her cheeks and collar.

"When you left, I struggled. I lost myself along with you. I turned into someone I regret heavily" Alastor's voice cracked, dropping any radio sound effect he may have had. Struggling to maintain an effortless smile. "But it seems you weren't so much of a saint either"

"What? What do you mean?"

"You still don't remember?"

The two stared at each other. Not truly understanding the wants or intentions of the other.

"I- Only a small fragment. I remember coming back to Earth to see you. That's how i got this" She calmed herself down, seeing that miscommunication between the two would make the situation worse. "We were close?"

"Very"

"And I did something to hurt you?"

"You died, y/n" Alastor rubbed his temple, suppressing any tears that dared to gloss his eyes. "I don't care, as to why you're here. We both did terrible things. Things that you may or may not ever remember. But..." A deep breath was taken to help steady his shaky words. "But for you to go to the lengths to forget everything, it must mean I was never held as dear to you as you were to me"

Alastor knelt to pick up the microphone left astray on the floor, brushing off his tie when he came back to his feet. Then turning to leave.

"I made myself forget because it hurt" She shouted, desperately wanting him to stay. "The pain of losing everything was to hard to deal with. I'm down here because of my own actions, that's on me. But I never excepted anyone I care about to follow me here"

She moved closer to him, needing more answers. Or some sort of closure. "What if i remembered everything? Then what? We continue where we left off?"

"No!" He turned "If you remembered me, and then realized what I am, you wouldn't even want to look at me" His face solemn. "I'd rather you only remembered one version of me, not both"

"So what do you want from me?"

He looked down to his feet. "Closure"

#fanfiction #x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin angel dust #alastor angst #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel charlie #the co host

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nerdestiwrites · 9 months ago

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predator and prey (a hazbin hotel reader insert)

It had been just under a year since you died and ended up in Hell. It was a shock, at first, how could it not have been. You didn’t think Hell existed in the first place and yet you had woken up in a dark alleyway with the sky above a dark shade of red. The ground underneath you was wet in a liquid that reeked and there was trash of all kinds scattered above from beer bottles, empty chip bags, used needles, bags with unknown substances in it, and even gun shells.

It hadn’t been the red sky or the putrid smell of sulfur that made you realize where you were, it wasn’t even how you felt *different*. It took you stumbling out of the alleyway like a drunk, stumbling onto the street and seeing the residents of your new afterlife. They weren’t human, none of them were. Even the *human* looking ones had something fucked up going on with them. Horns, long claws, some were tiny while others towered over everyone. It was Hell, you came to realize, but Hell seemed scarily familiar to what you had just left.

What got you into Hell took a few days figuring out. You weren’t exactly a *good* person, but you hadn’t been *evil* either. You had been a drug user, dabbling in harder substances at parties but never an active user other than weed. You drank, more than you’d like to admit, it was easier to drink and hide everything than it was to face lifes never ending problems. You participated in corporate greed but only because it was forced upon you, if you didn’t you’d been homeless and dead sooner. Then there had been the kleptomania you had. It came in spurts. You’d steal things, sometimes without even thinking about it, other times it’d be purposeful. Sometimes you’d go months, even years without an incident. Perhaps you could’ve been less selfish, maybe less prideful, had less anger issues, but that was just part of being human, right?

The crimes seemed to stack against you, the more you thought about it. On top of not believing in God, you nearly checked every sin box there was and had your fair share of regrets. However instead of wallowing in self pity for ending up out of the frying pan and into the fires below, you decided to take this as a second chance. After all, as you had noticed quickly, Hell wasn’t all that different from the worst cities up on Earth anyway.

Getting to understand the hierarchy of Hell took all but one day to understand. After attempting to get a phone for yourself to keep up with everything, and because you could barely live without your phone when you were alive, souls seemed to have been one of the main forms currency. You didn’t make any deals, at least having that much of an understanding on how fucked you’d be if you did for something as simple as a phone. So instead, you stole a phone. What were they going to do if they caught you? Kill you? You were already dead, could you become dead times two? Dead squared?

It was in your second month of being in Hell that you understood who was considered an Overlord and who was a demon with just a handful of souls. There had been the TV demon that seemed to own every technological aspect of Hell, Vox. Everyone seemed to have been influenced by him or his colleagues in some way, the other Vs, other Overlords, as it was put. After the first broadcast you had witnessed, you quickly searched the Hell internet, hellternet, for any sort of VPN or antivirus program. You had a VPN back when you were alive, might as well have one now too, it might even be more important in Hell.

There was Carmilla, the arms dealer, who you’d her daughters briefly once. Rosie, another Overlord, a cannibal and leader of the accurately named Cannibal Town. Then there was Zestial, one of the oldest beings in Hell, according to everyone you had asked about. The Radio Demon, Alastor, was one to be weary of, you’ve heard the rumors of how quickly he became an Overlord, or more specifically *how*. Then a few more others that hadn’t made a big impression when hearing their stories.

It was in month three that you finally decided what you were going to do with your afterlife. Every sinner, or denizens as Hells occupants were called, were terrified of Overlords and overstepping. It was the power that could be felt radiating off of anyone who held more than just a couple souls, and those who started to gain some traction seemed to always be stopped. Like the Overlords who controlled Pride Ring wanted to keep their circle as small as possible.

You were going to break the system.

You were going to cause as much chaos for the Overlords as possible.

And you were going to do this without anyone knowing until it was too late to stop.

Two weeks after that you had made your first deal. Not for a soul of the other participant of the deal, but for a favor. Any favor to be redeemed whenever you saw fit. The demon, down on their luck and high out of their mind had been more than happy to make the deal. The catch you put in there was, the demon wouldn’t be able to say *who* they made a deal with, or what that deal entailed. If they did, then you’d own their soul. If they refused to repay the favor, you’d own their soul.

Three days later and another deal was struck, with the same fine print. A favor for a favor. Favors were everything, after all. And another deal just a day after that. And soon you had over two dozen deals by the end of the week, but no power as you owned no souls. So no one would even give you a second glance.

At five months you started to turn in a few favors, gaining a meeting with one of the Vs. Velvette to be more specific, as you figured she’d be easier to talk to and come to an understanding than the other Overlords. You and her weren’t that far apart in age, and you both knew the importance of how influencers truly ran the world, or rather Hell. You had dressed up, almost like you had been going to an interview, and had been glad you barely posted on any of the social medias that were run by Voxtech. It meant there was less that Velvette would be able to learn about you than what you had learned about her.

Velvette had made you wait twenty minutes over the agreed upon meeting time, but you had dealt with dozens of horrible interviews and managers that you easily sat in the office unaffected by the delay. It was a tactic of hoping to get the other to leave in annoyance or defeat, or get them frustrated to the point of being able to end the interview or meeting early. Good thing you knew these tricks already. So when the youngest Overlord walked into the room talking on the phone, you stayed seated, making no move to interrupt her.

“Make this quick, I’ve got a show to put on in twenty minutes.” Her voice was snappy, filled with disinterest, and she sat herself down in one of the chairs around the large table. Her eyes never left her phone as her fingers typed away, not giving any attention towards you.

You give a cocked eyebrow before nodding, standing now, just to stretch. “Right, well, I’ll make this quicker than a Voxtok video.” You started and the meeting lasted four minutes and ended with the exchange of numbers, gaining Velvettes personal phone number and an invite to a night out for drinks.

What had been said in that meeting was kept a secret, and those who tried to eavesdrop for Vox, as Velvette had pointed out might happen, had been quickly killed by the Overlord.

Month ten was when the Extermination happened. Your first time experiencing the slaughter of sinners from the Exorcists. Velvette invited you to stay with her and the Vs during the slaughter, but you declined offer, not one to be indebted to someone. You instead took chance of staying in your own little apartment, which you had upgraded some during your brief time in Hell, thanks to the favors those owed you.

After the Extermination, it had been an amazing playing field for deals. By the end of the week you had nearly doubled the favors people owed you, some demons coming back and now owed more than one favor. You could now spend favors and still be having an influx of them, so you used them to gain information on all the Overlords. As much as you possibly could. The two hardest Overlords to get information on were Zelestial and Alastor, who seemed to have been missing for seven years now.

A text appeared on your phone, pulling you out of thought as you sipped the steaming coffee from the mug. Your eyes scanned over the text, eyebrows furrowing slightly, before you grabbed the remote to the TV you had bought yourself. You knew that Vox could at any point use the device against you, but you had given him no reason to. You were a nobody after all, or that’s at least what he thought. With a click of a button, the TV flickered on and showed a broadcasted commercial briefly showing a Hotel before it was interrupted by the news. The next Extermination would be happening six months sooner. And chaos erupted outside on the streets.

Velvy: There was a meeting today between the Princess and Heaven

Velvy: My bets is the royal brat pissed off Heaven

Velvy: That commercial wasn’t even good. Don’t know how they managed to get it on the network without Vox knowing.

The texts came in quick and you read them over. So the Hotel had been the Princess’ project then? Perhaps meeting with the Princess of Hell now wouldn’t be a bad idea, perhaps you could give your input on the whole thing, maybe get on the royals good side even.

You: I’ll figure it out.

And with those words, you made plans to take a trip to the outskirts of the city to the hotel and see what the Princess had been doing.

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assortedvillainvault · 1 year ago

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So I have the most random request for hc's with Jafar. [if you want to obv]. What if his s/o was a demi-god [possibly the child of a god of knowledge] BUT they don't tell anyone. Their dad just shows up one day and thats how he finds out.

Anon your patience for getting this answered is immeasurable. I decided to make the 'god of knowledge' here Hermes, since in the myths Hermes' domain is messenger, lies, travel and creator of the alphabet - which is pretty awesome!

Pls accept these humble headcannons!

Jafar x Demigod!S/O

- You did not intend for this to happen.

- You had had the good sense to lay low and get the hell out of Greece: Your dad Hermes may be one of the more ‘chill’ gods, but you have no interest in getting to know the disaster that is your extended family. Hermes was even weirdly encouraging about you jumping ship, but as the heavenly messenger, you suppose he’s just happy that you’re travelling and putting your skills to use.

- You went overseas, studied languages, got to know the trade routes and built a life for yourself in Agrabah. You even got hired to advise the Sultans government and landed yourself a tall dark and twisted boyfriend to boot!

- You decide to write home one day, idly, just to let your mother (and dad) know you’re alive and things are going ok.

- You...really should have remembered. Hermes is juggling about 50 jobs on the daily and in his haste sometimes...forgets things. Like the fact you’re trying to pass as a regular mortal.

- So three days later when your Dad in all his jazzy, turquoise glory whizzes into the palace, squeezes you up into a giant hug, ruffles your hair and presses a plate of snacks from home into your hands – all while chatting a million miles an hour and letting you know just how proud he is-! - and then proceeds to whiz out again with a cheery ‘Knock ‘em dead kiddo!”, you knew you fucked up.

- Jafar’s knuckles were white around his staff.

- ...oh dear.

- Jafar prides himself on being the most informed person in any room at all times. You think he rose to Grand Vizier and maintained his position by being idle?? Hypnosis, blackmail and murder aside, Jafar has worked DAMN HARD – he takes study and acquisition of intelligence extremely seriously.

- This man, even when in his evil wizard tower in his underwear and swamped under a metric ton of sultan-induced paperwork, can tell you what is happening on the streets of Agrabah and half the civilisations across the desert at any one time.

- And you. Lied to him.

- You, of all people, his most trusted confidant, deliberately and intentionally kept your divine lineage and (presumably) powers hidden from him.

- (if Jafar ever deigns to think about the fact that you kept this from everyone, not just him, there’s a 50/50 chance it would send him into a deeper spiral because he’s supposed to be better than those plebeians and you managed to not only keep this information from him, but LIE to his face about it the entire time-?!)

- Reader if his world would stop fucking spinning he’d congratulate you and then probably attempt to bowl you down the stairs, Iago’s just gonna hang on your shoulder for a bit until the mans paranoia and bitterness stope teetering on the edge of homicide.

- he’s not threatened why on earth would you think that he’s threatened by the fact you’re a half divine being of Fucking Knowledge now hold sTILL-

- It’s... going to take a few days for him to simmer down and stop plotting contingency measures.

- Then he’ll let his greed overtake his self preservation and think about all the ways he can rope you into his schemes to take over Agrabah. The 180 from thin lipped barely contained murderous rage to overtly-looming-hyper-sleaze is dizzying. Iago is facepalming in the back.

- All in all, he’d be up in your business waaaay more than he was before, but he does (eventually) get over it enough to use you as a blatant flex. Of course you only had eyes for him, little jewel, clearly only he had the intellect to match such a divine gift as yours~

- (trip him on the stairs, reader, plEASE-)

Thanks so much for the ask, sorry again for the wait and I hope you like it!

#thalassa responds #disney villains #disney jafar #jafar x reader #Jafar's fragile ego is hanging in the fucking balance with this one #trying to egt back in the rhythm of things

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laismoura-art · 1 year ago

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@mikka-minns, MA GAL! I HAD IDEAS!! 💛💛

Ok, so Scorpion!Harumi has been living rent free in my mind soooooo, I made an (huge ass) AU!

This goes Spider Gwen style like we talked! So Harumi became Scorpion instead of Hanzo!

I dunno what's the process to become Scorpion, I imagine they evaluate your skills during missions, but also go through some trail by combat! And in our reality (Scorpion!Hanzo's reality) Hanzo and Harumi are toe to toe but he wins by an inch, while in this reality Harumi got the upper hand!

And this here's my take on her design as Scorpion:

Now under the cut I go more in depth with her life and stuff, I didn't make it all that different from Hanzo (as you know, parallels and canon events🎸 and stuff) but there's a twist or two!

So Harumi becomes Scorpion, and due to his performance Hanzo is one of her most trusted warriors, till they have Satoshi and Hanzo becomes more of a stay-at-home dad so Harumi can go on longer and more challenging missions.

And one day she is hired to do one of the most dangerous missions yet, steal a map from a Shaolin Temple!

She meets the man, the Sub-Zero himself, Bi-Han! He is, as expected, not impressed by the warrior before him, too short, too scrawny, he expected they would send something better to face him!

But as they engage in combat, oh boy! Perhaps he did underestimate this warrior after all! She was skilled and pulled a hell of a fight! But she is only human and he one of the last Cryomancers on Earth. Our Scorpion wouldn't stand a chance.

He defeated her and as he was ready to deliver the final blow! He hears a plea. From the Scorpion, and the penny drops!

A woman.

Sub-Zero is well known to be ruthless and merciless. But not a monster. "Never women and children." That's his rule.

He beats her to unconsciousness, as he judges his right as winner of the match, and leaves her as she is, beaten and humiliated... but alive.

No one would hear of Sub-Zero's rare display of mercy, not even Harumi herself, as she woke up as a dead woman, in hell, reborn as a wraith.

No one knows who killed Harumi Hasashi, but for her, the killer was obvious, the last person seen with her. The ruthless, the merciless Sub-Zero.

He had killed her! And as she later learned, he lead an attack to her home, the Fire Gardens. Her entire clan, her beloved husband, and her sweet baby boy. All taken from her so brutally.

Sub-Zero would pay for this! And the only way she found to get to him was through Quan Chi.

A fair trade, she imagined, do one job for the evil man and get her revenge! It made sense for her. "It's what Hanzo would've done. It's what Hanzo would've wanted..."

She headed to the Mortal Kombat as a wraith, driven by her own anger and sorrow (and the whispers of a mad man) she killed Sub-Zero. He was unconscious when he died, a small mercy for another.

Vengeance was found, but not freedom. Harumi stayed by Quan Chi's side, where else would she be? Where else would she go? Who else would be out there for her?

But their "Alliance" was short lived as soon came the truth.

It was Quan Chi the man who slaughtered her family and clan, it was Quan Chi who killed Harumi after Sub-Zero had defeated her. It was Quan Chi who manipulated her grief her pain, her sorrow.

But it was she, and only she who had killed Bi-Han. She had killed an innocent man and sooner or later, she would pay the price.

It did not take long for someone to come to avenge Bi-Han. Two siblings. Twins. Kuai Liang and Lisa Liang. Came to avenge their fallen older brother.

By the time they got to Harumi she already knew the truth, she'd already burned Quan Chi till he was nothing but a pile of burnt flesh.

She had avenged her loved ones and killed a monster. Now it was only fair the siblings, now the Sub-Zero Siblings, had their shot at getting rid of their monster.

It was only fair. It was what Harumi deserved for allowing herself to be so foolish. It was what she deserved.

But it would have to wait. The world was in danger, and she was the only one who could stop it.

She pleaded the siblings for help, to help her do the right thing, "kill me if you must, but promise me you will keep the Kamidogu safe!"

Kuai Liang, though hesitant, was the first to aid the Scorpion. He hated her, that was true, but it was also true that he wouldn't risk the world for his own needs and desires. He was better than that, and he knew that, and even Scorpion knew that.

Lisa Liang however, was harder to convince, she was torn by her need for vengeance and the world's need of her. She did not trust the Scorpion one bit, and she thought her brother was a fool to even consider give this woman a chance.

But Kuai Liang was firm in his decision, he would protect the world, and Lisa, would protect her remaining family.

With the threat of the Kamidogu dealt with, Kuai Liang started his mission to find his missing friends and rebuild the Lin Kuei, he did not care much for vengeance anymore, he just wanted to preserve his family's legacy.

Lisa, went with him.

"My life is yours to take." Harumi told Lisa humbly before she left. The Cryomancer pondered, but ended refusing the offer. There was something about that Scorpion, something she saw during their partnership, that made Lisa hesitate.

Harumi insisted her life would be theirs, but in another way. A Shirai Ryu way.

She became their guardian and protector, she made herself a home, hidden within the Lin Kuei, until Kuai Liang, who had already made his peace with her and the role she had in his life, decided it was past the time to offer the Scorpion forgiveness. Even if she did not judge herself deserving of it.

Kuai invited her to stay officially and for as long as she desired. She would have a room of her own and role to play.

Never had the Sub-Zero Twins argued so intensely before. But in the end, Kuai had the last word, and Harumi stayed.

Getting Lisa to like her was a hardship, but as the years passed, the Cryomancer sister started to warm up to her. Even if she would never bring herself to admit.

Years later, Harumi was already part of the Sub-Zero family, it was hard, and having Bi-Han returning from the dead did not make things any easier, but in the end her efforts payed out.

One day, an unimaginable thing happened, Lord Raiden and his champions had found another reality. In this reality, Harumi had died, she had learned it was a normal occurrence within the multiverse.

But she had also learned whenever she died. He lived. Her Hanzo.

His visit to this world was quick, but it made quite an impact on her, as she made on him. They could both tell each other the death of their loved ones was not their fault. Never their fault.

They could tell each other how much they missed one another, how much they cared, how much they loved! They could tell each other everything they wanted but never had the opportunity to...

And by the end of the evening, Hanzo had one more thing to say: "I am in love."

Harumi knew from his expression that he was uncertain of what her reaction would be. He did not want her to feel betrayed, forgotten.

She assured him he was doing no such a thing, as a matter of fact, he was making her very happy!

Because she wanted him to be happy, she wanted him to move on, and find someone who loved him as much as she did! "He is such a sweet person, he should be able to share it with someone deserving!" She thought to herself.

And when her curiosity couldn't be contained, she asked the question: "who is this person that now owns your heart?"

And the answer, somehow did not surprise her: Kuai Liang.

No matter the reality, Kuai Liang always finds his way to one's heart, how could anyone possibly not love him?

And if someone is deserving of Hanzo's love, is Kuai Liang!

Hanzo had told her a lot about his world, it was not so different, though it had some significant changes, the one that shocked Harumi the most, was that there were only two Sub-Zero siblings, not three. Lisa did not exist in his world.

It stung her heart to imagine it, a world without Lisa's fierceness, bold attitude and a kind heart she would only trust a few.

"A world without Lisa." Haruni pondered, "What a sad world it would be. What a painful thought."

Oh, I wonder what this thought could mean?

--------------------------------------

Congratulations! You made it through the end! :D

Here, have a (very) rough sketch:

I used recent pics of Lisa's actress (Rachel Lee Harris) as inspo (specially for her hair) and gave her THAT SUIT™️, I also gave it thigh high boots cause @gophergal inspired me!💜

Also tagging @paradisechid800 cause your post started it all! 💛

Edit: More of this AU!

#harumi hasashi #huge post #Scorpion!Harumi AU #Harumi deserves better and if NRS won't give her better I WILL!#still mad about invasions #so I'll take this anger and turning it into something positive!#subscorp #<- both Kuai/Hanzo and Harumi/Lisa #mortal kombat #mortal kombat legends #<- huge inspo #hanzo hasashi #kuai liang #bi han #<- he also redeems himself in Harumi's reality #cause redeemed Bi-Han is MY canon event!#scorpion #sub zero #lisa liang

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hopelessromantic5 · 3 months ago

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Alright.

This is a Masters of the Air snippet of mine. Just a small one. I’ll probably post most of the longer ones on ao3.

This is Buck and Bucky, post-war, in Wyoming.

Gale spends a month in Wyoming after the war, with no word from Bucky.

Marge visits, though they called off the wedding long before he left the Stalag. She stops to make sure he’s…well, alive. Brings casserole dishes that Gale can’t find it in himself to eat until he’s dizzy with hunger.

It’s a quiet, early summer morning when Buck hears the rumbling sound of an engine, and tires on the gravel road.

He freezes, an instinct any time someone ventures down his road.

He’s the only one still living on this particular dirt road, rest of the houses long abandoned and dilapidated.

Marge was supposed to be in Mills with her parents all week.

Who else knows-

Oh.

There’s only one other person on Earth who knows or cares where Buck is.

The realization almost sent him running down the road to greet him. Instead, as his breathing picked up in adrenaline and excitement that always accompanied John, he smoothed his hair back and ran a hand down the front of his button up shirt, hoping he didn’t look horrible.

Of course, John had seen him at his absolute worst, but logic really wasn’t in the cards just then.

The sounds got closer just as the single cab blue truck came into view.

With some kinda trailer on the back?

Buck would ask after seeing Bucky’s face on American soil for the first time since they left Texas years ago.

Then he was there, like he never left.

“Hell, Cleven, you never told me you lived in the middle of nowhere.”

Bucky grinned, slamming the truck in park and climbing out of the drivers seat before he had the chance turned the engine off.

Buck caught him when John launched himself into his arms. They were both gasping, like neither had breathed real air in a month.

“What took you so long?” Buck whispered into his shoulder, eyes closed, absorbing Bucky wherever he could. The smell of his aftershave mixed with lucky strikes, the span of his broad back under Gale’s hands.

“Had to get something first.” Bucky leaned back just enough to smirk at him, hands not leaving Buck’s waist.

“Go have a look.”

Buck furrowed his eyebrows in confusion,

“What-“

Then Bucky moved out of his line of sight, and he finally caught the movement of something in his peripheral.

He zeroed in on the trailer attached to Bucky’s truck, and found that something was alive in there.

Was that a-

“Bucky! Is that-“

“Yes, it is.” There was soft grin on John’s face, but it was still shit-eating and proud of himself.

Gale almost kissed him on the spot, but he would never ruin a moment like this with his impulsiveness.

“How in the hell did you manage that?” Gale’s feet were already bringing him closer to the animal hovering by the slats.

“Saved up for a while, and the extra check they sent certainly didn’t hurt.”

“Why? Why buy a horse?” Gale asked, looking back at him.

John furrowed his own brows, looking at Buck like he was crazy.

“Why did I- Buck, she’s yours. I bought her for you.”

“You did what?” Gale must’ve misheard, surely.

John chuckled, shaking his head. He stepped closer to both Gale and the horse.

“Let’s start over.” He said. After clearing his throat and effectively avoiding his eyes by focusing on the filly.

“Buck, considering that you’re letting me freeload in your ginormous house and bother you frequently, and as a partial thank you for getting me through the worst time in both of our lives, I bought you a horse. This is Blue. Named because, while she has a grey coat, in certain lights, it looks blue, like a stormy sky.”

Gale didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t speak.

So John, added a post script.

“Not that this will ever come close to evening our score. But I thought it might help. I remember what you told me, about your first horse. And how nothing was ever the same. I wanted to at least give you the chance at something like that again.”

A tear fell from Buck’s eye before he reeled Bucky into an almost bruising hug. Holding him so tight, Bucky thought it might leave a mark. He wanted it to leave a mark. He wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his life.

“Thank you.” Buck whispered. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

“Get used to it.” John quipped back, softly, causing Gale to laugh into his neck.

#masters of the air #buck and bucky #john egan #gale cleven #wwii #I don’t even know what their pair name is #clegan #?#side note #all of these will be historically inaccurate at one point or another #if you notice #look away #thanks for reading #mota fanfic

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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 months ago

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Chapter 4 - Magic Flower

The little, ugly devil remembers the day when he defended his benefactor and he ended up in jail, beaten and abused as he got interrogated, only to be rescued by some man calling himself a warlock. He was brought to this magic school to learn how to control his powers, and he smiled, thinking of his beloved angel. Was he making progress, catching up to her wonderous presence? Will he be able to impress her with his powers, the same as she always did for him? Oh, how he misses her so dearly.

To this day, he recalls the assessment test he took, to be assigned a level of competence, after a single month of studying. First, was Scrying, the ability of seeing things in a reflective surface - Messages, visions, prophecies. He was told to divine where a book was hidden, but he could see even the title and its author, and even the edition! He looked deep into the mirror, and his hand reached inside it, going as far as to fetch the book itself. All but one of the teachers was impressed. Next was Salire per spatium, or teleportation, and he remembered his sweet angel playing tag with him and appearing and disappearing here and there at will, her lovely giggles echoing from every corners and behind every tree. The teacher, as 'motivation', threw a book and a knife at him - And he simply played around, teleporting casually on the ceiling, where he called out to them.

The last test was Stricidium - He had to make it snow inside the room by turning the water molecules in the environment, frozen. He made it snow to gently, like pure and beautiful Spring snow where the lambs play - He remembered his dear fairy, making flower petals fall around him and dance in the breeze, all to make him happy. But he was different. He turned the snow into a blizzard, and the warmth of the room turned into the freezing Siberian cold, to the point that the teachers couldn't breath. He had no idea how strong his powers were, and they took over, to the point of getting a nosebleed.

He was the most powerful warlock that ever lived. When the Witch council came over, as the warlocks wanted him to become their Alpha, he was denied - But he perfectly sketched the name of the hotel where the Supreme's greatest failure took place. The Voodoo witch, Queenie, who was trapped with James Patrick March in Hotel Cortez, was now able to freely walk the earth once more, to her leisure. He did the impossible, and he was going to do it again, twice more.

First, he was going to save Madison Montgomery from hell - Her hell, being a retail employer for eternity, what a shame. He didn't care for her, but he had to prove his worth to the Supreme Witch Bitch who dared deny him even a chance. She flirted so shamelessly with him that he almost felt like puking - She even dared touch him. He should have skinned her alive. Only his Princess was allowed to touch him.

Last, but not least, he entered the personal hell of his most beloved angel, his sweet, sweet girl, trapped in a shed and forced to watch animals being tortured to death, times and times again, on repeat, over and over - Their squeals and shrieks and cries will forever be embedded into her brain, forever to torment her every moment awake or sleeping. His heart broke, watching her groveling to the ground, screaming loud, and raw, hoping that her own sounds would drown out the torturous wails of the poor souls.

With a flick of his hand, the sounds stopped, save for the sobs coming from the girl. He stepped in front of her and knelt to the ground, though he was afraid of touching her. "My sweet angel, your torment is over. You are free to leave this awful place." she seemed to not have heard him. "My love. My love, look at me. I'm here. Your darling devil is here to rescue you." he placed his hand on top of her head - Her hair was as velvety soft as always, he noticed. "Look at me, honey." his other hand reached through the scarlet curtain to touch her face, tilting her head upwards to see him. "It is me. Can you see me? " "... You're not real." her voice was broken and he needed to strain his ears to hear her. "You can't be. He can't be in this awful place, he should be happy at home, away from this God Forsaken place!" she stumbled pitifully over her words. "It is my, my darling. I'm here to get you out of here." once the girl peered into his eyes, he realised that she knew it was him. She knew. "D-Devil...?" she was breathless, she felt like death was finally taking over her, claiming her forever. "No way..." she tackled him to the ground, crying in his chest so desperately, yet so relieved and happy. "I missed you so much, my sweet devil! I can't believe I have the luck of seeing you one more time before death claims my very soul." "I wouldn't let death claim you, my love. We're leaving." and instead of being trapped by that bloody shed anymore, they were sitting on soft green grass, surrounded by a myriad of flowers of every flower and kind. Her eyes went wide with wonder, and she looked around, like a blind woman gaining her sight for the first time in the world. She rolled to the ground, feeling the blades, before turning on her back and watching the cloudless sky. She was laughing and crying, like a mad woman runaway from the mental hospital. "The sky - It is the same colour of yours eyes." she said, creating even more flowers all around the whole field. "I never thought I would see you again." after she's regained a little of her strength, she dragged herself back to him and pulled him into a deep kiss, grabbing his hands and squeezing them so tightly. "You're my saviour. My guardian. My King." she made a beautiful flower crown made of glowing baby blue flowers, and she put it on his head. "I owe you my life, sweet Devil." "You owe me nothing, my beloved angel. There is no life without you in it. I will protect you even when the end of the world comes and takes us all." he caressed her face dearly, looking into her eyes as though she was the whole universe - And she was. With the way she was embracing and leaning her weight over him, he found himself toppled to the ground, with her over him. The beautiful ribbons of scarlet locks were hanging over him, tickling at his face and making him giggle like a little boy kissed by his crush. Even so, he couldn't ignore the sudden and unfamiliar heat that engulfed his body from the proximity he felt with her, her bosom glued to his own chest, her thigh perfectly placed over his nether regions, as though she knew how she was teasing him, and her delicate hands placed over his own, fingers intertwined. He could feel his cheeks redden, and his lungs were suffocated. He had no clue what this foreign emotion was, but he loved the feeling of it. He wanted more. He wanted to explore more and find more. With her in his arms, and a bed of flowers, none more beautiful than her

He remembers now too, the beautiful black dress that she wore when he confronted Cordelia, along with the other two that he saved - She looked absolutely stunning, with the way the dress hugged her silhouette and all the gracious curves of her body - Though, to this day, he still believes that white suits her best, a pure and innocent power, for an angel such as her, but witches want their own to wear only black, though they claim to draw their powers from the light. No matter, he can see her wearing any colour of the rainbow, on any other day, and when he becomes the next Supreme, the Alpha, he will do as he pleases without anyone hindering him.

When the two other witches went to embrace their Supreme, he didn't let go of his own angel. He didn't care whether the warlock teachers thought of him fraternising with the enemy witch-kind. Why should he care, when he was above all, not only in magical skill and talent, but everything else too. And thus, he was acknowledged by the Supreme Bitch, and on the night of the Blood Moon, he was to take the Seven Wonders test. No man has ever taken such a test, and should he succeed, he shall become the next Supreme, and in turn, radically change the course of the world and its flow.

The warlocks were incapable and weak, they were pathetic. To think mankind would relay on him, for they were too stupid to do anything for themselves. Still, he couldn't deny, not all witches were all that great either - His angel told him of the new comer, and her special power. She was a gluten and calorie detector - How could that even be considered a power? How pathetic - Was the Coven so desperate, that they would accept anything? Ridiculous.

His congratulation ceremony was so amusing, even more so when he gave off a little scare to that one teacher who so rightfully suspected him of being the man of Cordelia's prophecy, the white-faced demon. How hilarious, he thought, though he was mildly impressed that he was suspected to begin with. No matter, his dear Miss Mead was all but ready to get rid of any kind of evidence. That night, he snuck out of the school to embrace his benefactor - More, she was able to convince one of the teachers to aid his cause, though he was unaware of his... Lineage. It was pathetic, to think all his ambitions revolved around his wish to step out of a woman's shadow. He was a pathetic weakling who needed to cling onto another with a higher power to be brought up - But the Devil couldn't care less about this battle of sexes, it mattered little to him. It was a woman who took care of him and protected him for so long, and it was a woman, an angel, a witch no less, who loved him genuinely, so selflessly, and did everything in her power to make him happy. How could he wish the demise and oppression of all women, when it was women who saved and cared for him?

No. The Devil didn't care for such superficial, petty ambitions, borne of inferiority, weakness, jealousy and lack of any kind of self-esteem. He was going to bring forth the end of the world, and he didn't differentiate between woman or man, elderly or youth - He was going to bring the demise of humankind.

Guided by ancient tradition, witches survive only if united under a strong, singular authority. Every generation needs its leader, The Supreme. No simple test could EVER determine the sovereign among us, thus, we rely upon seven. The 'Seven Wonders' - Seven acts of magic, so advanced, each pushes the boundaries of craft into art.

The little Devil was brought to a barn - The first Wonder he performed, with ease and lightness, was Telekinesis - And he called into his hand, a riding crop. The three warlocks loudly cheered and applauded for him, whilst the four witches looked desolated by his success. The sweet Angel was looking at him with pride and tenderness. Control of the mind, also known as Concilium, made his sweet Angel dance for him, a pretty dance, with the long skirt flowing around her ankles and shins so gracefully - She was truly a work of art, and though he smiled sweetly at her, he wished he could dance with her now. Next came Transmutation, and the little Devil was hidden behind a long stack of hay, stifling a boyish giggle, looking at his amused Angel. Once he felt a tap on his shoulder, he teleported behind one of the witches, and tapped her back. The Supreme looked at her right hand, and already fear tainted her heart. Divination was performed so facile, as the witches hid a pendant. The eldest witch threw some stones to the ground, and the Devil crouched down to look upon them. He smiled, and got up, quickly burying his hand inside a hay stack and walking behind his sweet Angel. With his hand extended in front of her face, he released the pendant, dangling by the chain, and he put it around her neck. She giggled at him so cutely, that he couldn't help himself and kissed her cheek. Pyrokinesis was, by far, his favourite wonder to perform, for he loved both fire and blood, though his darling Angel never could stand seeing him cut his palm and draw his own blood. It took a single drop of his magical blood to make the candle fire into a complete hazard. The Angel rushed to grab at his hand, and kissed his wound, healing it as if it never was.

Vitalum Vitalis, the balancing of scales between one life force and another - That one, he knew best, was his Angel's favourite test, for in his palm he cradled a small dead mouse, only for it later so step around his hands, curious and wishing to explore. Whilst the Supreme and her right hand shared concerned looks, the ugly Devil and the beautiful Angel played around with the adorable little critter that nuzzled into her cheeks, as though it was kissing her.

And thus, they arrived at the final test, a perilous descent into the nether worlds of after life, Descensum, the most dreadful of the wonders, and the one that brought the greatest torment imaginable to his beloved Angel. He already went twice in hell to rescue the two witches, what was another more? After all, it was a trip home, nothing that could bother him. He felt best. Though he wasn't asked to perform, but to outright conquer it. To retrieve the Supreme's dear friend, Misty Day, the same he did with her other two students. Funny enough, one of the warlocks protested, saying those who failed Descensum were gone forever, property of the underworld - But were the witch and angel returned not proof enough of his ability to conquer everything that stood in his way to glory? Whilst the Supreme and the Grand Chancellor of the Warlocks were arguing, the Devil went to stop this silly charade. He laid his head down on his beautiful Angel's lap, who looked down at him with such worry that she was battling tears falling in cascades. He smiled at her, reassuringly, and held her hand, as he recited the incantation.

Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum, ut salutaret inferi. Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum, ut salutaret inferi. Descensum.

He felt himself descending into the ground, dematerialising, shadows and dark smoke engulfing his very being and his vision - His gaze, glued to the gorgeous, sparkling emeralds of her eyes, until he allowed himself to lose himself in the hazy feeling of vertigo. He found himself walking casually down the black corridors of hell, the heels of his shoes clicking with every step, until he found the exact door of Misty Day's torment. It was a biology laboratory, filled with live frogs, ready to be dissected. The teacher was forcing her hand to scalpel the live frog brutally, only for her to bring it back to life, and the cycle repeats endlessly. Her shrieks of agony went on and on, reminding the Devil of his sweet Angel and her own anguish.

The Devil made Misty Day watch as he dissected the teacher, the same as he did with the frog, eviscerating him. He took a deep breath as he was brought back to reality, and he felt strong, slender arms brought him into a tight embrace, and he felt a myriad of kisses and sweet words whispered into his ear, as the other witches and warlocks gathered around them. Everyone thought that he had been defeated, that hell was able to reject its conquest - Only for a grey smoke to materialise in the shape of a woman, and Misty Day breathed into the human world once more. The Supreme fell to her knees, her hands on the witch's face, calling out her name again and again, whilst the Angel helped the Devil stand up to his feet, though she looked territorial, holding him in her arms, not allowing the warlocks to step in between them, nor tear them apart. He loved how clingy she was.

He felt weak, and he leaned his weight on her, but she didn't mind. She watched as the Supreme cradled her friend's face and cried. It almost reminded him of his sweet reunion with his beloved Angel. She was in complete disbelief that she was able to escape that awful suffering. Back from perdition, she was truly back, and safe.

With the Supreme bleeding from her nose, and a short amount of quarreling, she declared the Devil as the Supreme Leader, before falling faint. He grinned, smug, victorious, as his Angel threw her arms around his neck and brought him into a passionate kiss. She didn't care about the witches or warlocks, nor of anything else - She only cared about him and her own self, and their own happiness.

But Cordelia knew there was something dark and dangerous about him, and Misty Day sniffed the perfume of death - He brought all the witches back to her, and her army was armed and ready to fight him. Misty was too weak to fight however, and she was told to rest and heal - And as a reward for surviving and living, Cordelia brought Stevie Nicks, her favourite person alive, to sing for her - The great witch herself, as one of the warlocks played the piano to accompany her. The Devil and the Angel looked down, from the balcony, and they danced together to the melody sung. Though her voice was nowhere as lovely as the Angel's, it was fine enough to swing together, and sway, their hearts beating together as one, their souls bound to one another.

That was not the beginning of their story however, and Katrina knew it. She asked him to remind her of the time spent together as children, before she was sent away to become a proper witch. Back then, when fate brought them together, when the Angel and the Devil first embraced one another, and Hell and Heaven became one single realm.

Born in the Murder House, to dead father and a mother destined to die in childbirth - A family dead before he was born into a House of a thousand corpses and spirits, a jail for the dead and the tormented souls that shalt never escape - He was a child unwanted, born out of wedlock, to a mother unwilling and a father unknown to her, wearing a leather suit that veiled him whole. It was the dead nurses and doctors that helped with the delivery, and it was then that the mother's husband had to see her fade away into nothingness.

When his mother died, pushing him out into the world, another, a foster mother, gladly assumed the burden of raising him - Her, a childless mother, for she had to bury all of her own, four times over. Why would she assume such a burden? Perhaps because she felt responsibility over the orphan child who also happened to be her own grandson. There were plenty of mistakes, raising her son Tate, the handsome young man who thought it appropriate to spread his seed and impregnate his lover's own mother, though Constance now knew better, and the little Devil was going to be her sweet, sweet bundle of love. He was going to be different.

Michael Langdon was such a perfect little angel of light. She thought that he would be her own chance at redemption, to prove that she was worthy of her title of mother. She was born to be a mother, and to raise a great young man was the most admirable and selfless act a woman could aspire to. He was her destiny, her beautiful child, with such a cheerful disposition... Even when he was committing unspeakable acts... Trivial at first, of course, some dead flies in the crib with their wings shorn off, and small rodents as he got older. Just like Bundy and Dahmer, and many others who started with small animals, only to graduate, and their perversions escalate to grander things. If only his darling Angel had known him during his infancy days, she would be terrified of him and his cruelty towards inoffensive animals - But that was only as a child, of course, it wasn't as though he was doing it on purpose! He'd much rather dismember humans, than bring harm to those sweet animals that his beloved is so fond of.

He called them a present for his mother, the same way a cat gifts its dead prey to their owner, and O, his love did flow, and enjoyable as it was to have a child so committed to expressing his love for his mother... She did try to encourage him to find another avenue of expression... Still, nothing she said was capable of making him cease his deranged acts. Each time, she would dutifully bury one of those gifts, along with a little piece of her soul, and planted a bush of roses over them. She did try to find a silver lining and make lemonade out of the lemons she was handed - And thus, her garden flourished with beautiful flowers. From death springs life eternal.

It was the little angel of light, turned ugly devil of darkness, that made her realise, the reason for her existing in this world was to raise the monsters.

She never thought she would tire of the smell of roses, nor did she ever think she would get used to seeing skinned and eviscerated critters hanging by their neck, all over the house. Roses had always been her favourite flowers... Alas, not anymore, and they soon made her only retch. And then, the little devil became stronger, when he killed his baby-sitter... He couldn't have been older than two or three years old at most, and he was swinging in his small rocking chair, white and painted crimson with the young lady's blood. She was able to convince the authorities that she had taken her own life by slitting her throat - After all, how could a child of three, so giggly and happy, be capable of such a heinous sin?

But this little devil somehow aged a whole decade overnight - How, she would never be able to tell, after all, it was as nonsensical as everything surrounding this devil spawn. That was possibly the most outlandish thing, far outside the natural realm. He almost felt as though he was in a hurry to get somewhere, age-wise. And it was that night that she found him over her, strangling her to death. His beautiful blue eyes were glaring at her murderously... Only to immediately turn to realisation of his deeds, and he started crying pitifully. She was so terrified, but so was he. His own mind and body were acting in discordance. When you look at men of significance, such as artists or world leaders, or inventors - They all had their particular peccadilloes on their road to the top, haven't they? But growing ten years overnight... That called for sacred intervention.

From that night forwards, Constance Langdon's relationship with her beautiful grandson deteriorated, and the little devil knew that. He was desperately seeking some kind of redemption, some honeyed ailment to sooth his woes, and wipe his tears the way his caretaker refused to anymore. He ran into the forest to weep his heart away. He looked pathetic, wearing only a dirty Tshirt and a pair of shorts, and sitting by the foot of a large wisteria tree, looking like a hot mess. Even his beautiful golden locks were tangled and ugly, just like him. An ugly little demon castaway.

"What do we have here? A little weeping devil?" a delicate voice called out, as soft footsteps crunching over the fallen leaves alerted him of a girl's presence, though he daren't raise his head and look at her. He was far too ashamed of the way he looked, and of what his heart felt. "Why is it that you're weeping so, little devil?" she asked, but his sobs were the only reply. The girl looked around, analysing the decay. Everything surrounding the young man was dying and wilting gradually, as if proportional with the misery of his own heart. "Poor little devil and his poor broken heart. Will you allow me to mend it for you?" the little devil felt her kneeling in front of him, her hands so gentle over his own. He wanted to jump and spring away, he wanted to push her away from him, he wanted to be left alone - But somehow, the tenderness of her voice, and her warm touch, made him melt. He shily looked at her, his eyes pink and puffy from all the crying. "C-Can you really... Do that?" she was so beautiful, his heart stop. A gorgeous smile on her face, and her green eyes were sparkling with kindness. She was wearing a pretty, white summer dress, and her scarlet hair fell over her shoulders and chest in cascades of soft velvet. She looked innocent, and her soul was bright and benevolent. She was glowing with purity and innocence. She was an angel. How could he stay around her, when he was nothing but an ugly devil? He wasn't worthy of her - He was beneath her in every way. Worthless, useless, a killer, with a malevolent heart and soul, incapable of controlling his inner power and strength, and especially his dreadful emotions. "I can try." her smile widened, and she helped him stand up. She was so small compared to him... So precious... He wanted to protect her and that beautiful smile of hers, and yet, it seemed as though it was her trying to protect him and his heart. "Let's see... Hmm... You've made quite the mess, haven't you? You must be really upset." he hung his head in shame, only to feel her hand on his face, raising it back. His eyes were wide with shock and he could only stare at the way she twirled so cutesy, and all around her, the once ashened nature was brought back to life, a vibrant green, with so many strong colours. "How... How did you do that...?! Everything was dead! Everything was -- Everything was wilted!" her sweet giggle made his head spin.

"Well, if you must know, I suppose I can tell you. Ah, but of course, this must be our little secret, alright?" he nodded vigorously. "You're so lovely." his eyes widened so much, and his cheeks were as red as her hair. It only seemed to amuse her more, as she stepped in front of him and held his hands in her own, approaching his palms together. "You've got the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen, little devil." she told him. "Even the skies are jealous on them." his bottom lip was quivering, feeling himself ready to cry once again. In his hands, a flower bloomed, light blue, and glowing. It was the most beautiful flower he's ever seen in his... Rather short life. "A beautiful flower for a beautiful man." she said, placing the flower behind his ear. "It suits you. Highlights your eyes." "Are you an angel?!" he found himself blurting out. "An angel?" she mused. "No, I don't think so. Rather, I am a witch." she grinned. "I can do many things already... But I never show my friends. They'd freak out." "But your magic is so... Beautiful... And innocent. Why would they freak out?" the boy frowned. "People fear what they don't understand." she explained. "But you're special. I can sense it - You have magical blood too." she said, placing her hand over his heart, feeling the anxiously rapid beating. "Aww, forgive me, have I made you nervous?" "Will you be my friend?" he asked, desperately. "I can be anything you want me to be." she smiled at the beautiful young man who looked at her with confusion. "You don't know what I mean, do you?" he shook his head. "I can show you. I can take your pain away. If you want me to." "Yes." he exhaled breathlessly. "Yes, I do. Please, show me." he eagerly asked her, earning another sweet smile from her. "Close your eyes." he did as instructed. "And now... Lose yourself in the feeling." he felt a pressure over his lips. He couldn't comprehend the complexity of her charm, but his body acted all on his own. One of his arms was wrapped around her body, pulling her closer, whilst the other was buried in her hair, holding her dearly. His lips were moving all on their own, to the rhythm dictated by her own soft, sweet ones. She tasted like caramel. He loved caramel. He wanted to kiss her every day and every night, without stop. Even when his lungs were failing from the lack of air, he still didn't want to let go of the pleasure he felt, and the sensation of his head going hazy and getting transported into another universe, safe and sound. "Did I succeed?" she whispered against his lips. "Can we do that again?" she let out an amused exhale. "Any time you wish." and she kissed him again.

From then one, every day without fail, they would meet by the purple tree, and he would lay his head on her lap, letting her play with his soft locks of hair whilst she read him whatever story she was feeling like at the time - Or sometimes, she would sing for him, or simply, they would chat about whatever things they felt like. He felt safe in her presence. He felt... Good, as though there was no more evil attempting to take over his body and mind anymore. He wanted nothing more but to succumb to her ocean of love and let fate guide them on.

He told her of the day his grandma abandoned him, killing herself in the Murder House, never wanting to see him again, and she kissed him, making it fall with pink flower petals over him, and dancing with him, as the petals in the breeze. He told her how he found her, how he wept her, how he embraced her... Only for a man to tell her that she became a spirit, but didn't want him to see her. The man wanted to counsel him, help him, and he agreed. He became the father he never had. He was brilliant, and his mind was always at least five steps ahead of the average man. Everything in that house was dead... With the exception of him - The only light that came out of all that mess. He solved a rubik's cube in a matter of seconds, and beat his ghost father at chess and checkers, they'd play catch with a baseball glove...

And then, he told her of the time he met his real father, another ghost that looked perfectly his age, blond hair like his own, and dark eyes. He was so hostile and aggressive with him. He denied him, saying he was fucked up. He cried, and cried in her embrace, and he felt himself turning to the dark side, all because of this rejection. The man who tried to save him was losing him... And the house got sold. The two women didn't even have the time to settle in. They stepped just a few feet, and he, dressed in the leather suit of his own father, stabbed them to death. Their ghosts rose up, looking confused, but in his rage, he burnt them. Burnt their souls, turning them to ashes, denying them any rest... And he fell to his knees. The man who tried to save him realised he could never be saved, and the little Devil wept again.

Everyone he ever loved, everyone he thought loved him, every bit of connection he had with any living being - They all left him. All, but one - His sweet, beloved little angel, who made him feel the snow on his face for the first time, and showed him the beauty of a smile, and the tenderness of love. He destroyed everything he touched, but with her, he was capable of gentleness and vulnerability. It felt... Right. It felt natural.

'Then I saw a beast with ten horns and seven heads rising out of the sea and all who dwell on the Earth will worship Him.' he made a murder of crows encircle the house every day... And then they came, the worshippers of Satan. 'And the son became black as sackcloth with hair, and the whole moon became as blood, and the stars fell from the Heaven to the Earth, for the great day of wrath is come.' the worshippers bowed to a drowsy little devil, who was sleeping in a scorching hot room.

And then the Black Mass happened... These worshippers drugged and kidnapped an innocent girl, garbing her in a white dress and laying her on a sacrificial table. The little Devil stared at her, his heart aching - His mind imagined not the blonde girl, but his sweet angel, with the red hair draped all over the table, and her green eyes wet with tears, looking confused all around, like an innocent lamb. He heard 'HAIL SATAN' being shouted, and a dagger was brought down on the girl's chest with such force, that he jumped in fright. The girl was shrieking with such agony as the Black Pope shoved his hand inside the wound, ripping her heart out. But his vision cleared, and his fright wiped away. That wasn't his beloved angel, just some girl. He took the heart in his own hand, and bit into it as though it was a ripe, sweet apple. 'Ave Satanas' he heard, and from his shadow formed a demonic silhouette. "Father. I'm with you now." he felt the darkest presence embracing him.

The next day, he went to his sweet Angel to tell her the good news - Finally, someone was accepting him for who he was, and they were believing in him. He found a new family... For once, it wasn't him crying anymore, but her. Why was his most beloved person in the world crying? Who did he have to burn alive and torture for eternity? "My Devil... My dear little Devil... They are taking me away. They're taking me away!" she wept into his arms. "They say I need to learn how to control my powers, and they're taking me to New Orleans, to learn from a Coven of Witches." she said. His grip on her tightened, and he, too, teared up. "But... But I haven't learnt how to make a flower for you... Or... Or... How to make it rain petals on you... Or make it snow for you! You can't go yet, I... What-- What will I do without you?" he asked in disbelief, unable to breathe properly anymore. "I don't know... I don't know... I don't know..." she cried and cried. "I will miss you... I can't live without you! My sweet Angel, what will I do without you? How will we ever meet again?" he asked, more afraid now than he's ever been. "We can... Text each other? Or send mail? I don't ever want to lose you from my life." the way she looked up at him, so sincerely, so dearly... The Devil kissed his dear Angel goodbye. "And we will speak every day - No, every hour, okay? You can't leave me alone! You and I - We will be together forever, okay?" The Angel gave him a nostalgic, melancholic smile. "Yes, my love. Together, forever. Just the two of us - You and I."

Whilst the sweet Angel was being sent to the Witch school to learn her craft, the little Devil's own mother tried to kill him that night, with a knife, in the bed where he lay asleep... Or so she thought. She was set aflame. His father saved the mother, and he fled. Whilst he was on the run with his new caretaker, a woman who truly believed in him, who truly cared about him, his sweet Angel was in mortal danger every day, all because of the careless actions of the Coven and their sick Supreme. Whilst he was being revered and worshipped, she was forced to take the Seven Wonders test... And after that day, the little Devil never heard from his sweet Angel again... And he knew... He even warned her not to take the test! He knew, a pure soul like her would never be able to escape the clutches of hell... But she was not allowed to back down. She was forced to take all the tests.

'When I was a child, I spoke like a child. I understood like a child, I thought like a child. But when I became a woman, I put aside childish things.' Childhood was over, and they had to put aside any petty fear or reservation.

First, the five witches were tasked to perform the Telekinesis wonder. One by one, they all succeeded in bringing the lit candle into their grasp, and blow into the fire. The Concilium test, otherwise known as Mind Control, was next, and Misty made Queenie slap herself thrice, whilst she reversed by making Misty grab her hair roughly. Katrina made Myrtle dance around the room; Madison made Kyle walk over and kiss her, whilst also making Zoe slap herself; whilst Zoe stopped him from kissing her, and made him kiss her back... Only to end up chocking her. Cordelia had to swat him away.

The third test was Transmutation, and the girls played a game of tag all around the academy and the gardens. They were really having fun, for once, all together. They truly needed a god damn break... And it was all great, until Zoe ended up impaled on the spikes of the gate and needed to be rescued. It was Katrina who hugged her body and whispered 'Vitalum vitalis' over and over again, her hand over her wound - And she was in perfect condition, and though nothing happened. Queenie was unable to do it. Madison refused, though she demonstrated the wonder on a fly she killed. Misty, too, with tears in her eyes saved a fallen critter she found.

Next, they lit up fires, but Cordelia was now in the game too - All of them were able to light fires, and during the Divination test, Cordelia and Katrina were able to find the objects, but Madison failed. The lovely red haired witch was never thought as a candidate, but Zoe, whose life she had saved, and Queenie were cheering for her, Misty or Cordelia.

In the end, all of them took to the last test - Descensum - The worst of them all. Cordelia was the first to awaken, who saw herself trying to get Fiona's approval, only to get bitch-slapped for it. Next came Madison, who was stuck in a musical network, Queenie who was selling fried chicken, and Zoe, who saw herself breaking up with Kyle over and over again. The hourglass sand was already done falling, yet Katrina and Misty never woke up. They were stuck in hell, with the other witches mourning them. Cordelia tried, and tried to call to them, to help them, to guide them back to the real life... But it failed. They were forever trapped in hell.

And Michael new. The moment his darling flower stopped answering, he swore revenge on the witches who dared force her hand and threw her in hell. She was an Angel, no way should she have gone to hell, willingly or otherwise! Who knew what suffering she was facing, or the woes that were braking her heart and sanity. The worst of the worst. The witches were going to pay for this.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Katrina remembered all this. She knew all this, and now, her past self was beginning to regain a sense of truth. Everything Michael was telling her, was true. It was then that she told him that, although he never wanted to tell her about being the Antichrist, she knew. Though she wasn't a traitor for the Coven like Dinah was, she knew. From Cordelia, and the warlock aiding their cause, and the stories from the Murder House - But she wasn't scared of him. She knew he would protect her - After all, why bring her back from Hell, if that was where he was going to throw her, anyway? She now remembered bringing back the warlock that Miss Mead burnt to ashes, and how the Grand Chancellor, and the other warlock teacher, along with Miss Mead were burnt at the stake, whilst the one she resurrected lit the fire.

He remembers Cordelia taunting him after realising he cannot bring back his caretaker... But she also told him there is humanity in him... And she can see it. His sweet Angel told him that too, long ago, when they met. No matter how much he tried to find his evil-doing from her, she knew. It was as though she could read him to perfection - Perhaps she could read him, after all. She could read his soul and his agony, which she turned to euphoric bliss with a single caress. She could read his mind whenever he was too hesitant to tell him what worried or ailed him, and though she never commented on it, she reassured him just as well. She was always there for him, his beloved. The Supreme extended her hand for him to take, and bring him on the path of redemption. For a second there, he was tempted into agreeing - He wanted to stay with his sweet Kat and never let her go... But then, he recalled every single person who messed with him, and betrayed him. He recalled the burning of his caretaker, and he saw red. He threatened each and every one of them. He will kill them all - Oh, he will.

For four days, he wept in the forest, all alone, with no water and no food, and no sleep. He was desperate, and his father wasn't answering. He stumbled upon some supposedly Satanic service, which only made him want to smash his head against the wall and end himself. He wanted his Angel. He needed his Angel. He was hallucinating and going crazy, but she wasn't there - How could she? He ran away, aimlessly into the forest... And he was nicely brought in by an old lady who was fine with feeding him some warm food. She kept speaking ridiculously, and at first, he thought she was senile. 'Satan is carnal pleasure' he told her, as he remembers the heat scorching him every time his darling touched him. The believer tried to kill him for daring to speak ill of her faith... Only to see the mark of the Antichirst behind his ear, and she fell into worship.

'Semper crescis, Aut decrescis, Vita, Detestabilis. Nunc obdurat et tunc curat. Ludo mentis aciem!' they all chanted for him. 'Sors salutis et virtutis michi nunc contraria!' he felt stronger. 'Quod per sortem sternit fortem mecum omnes plangite!' what gorgeous hymn, all for him.

They brought forth two sacrifices for the Black Mass. One was Letitia, a social worker... An innocent soul who dedicated her life to aiding others who were suffering. The man was a lifelong member of Doctors without borders. Both of them were innocent and pure. Good people. There was something satisfying about tainting and corrupting innocent, pure souls, making them grow ink black, from their glowing white. But in every single innocent soul, he could see the beautiful Angel, and for a single second, he flinched, as the little Devil was killing the beautiful Angel.

They all fell to their knees before him, chanting 'Hail Satan' and singing for him. 'O Fortuna Velut luna Statu Variabilis' Michael slashed their throats at once, at the same time, letting the blood fall like ribbons. He felt empowered, as though finally, he had his father blessing him. The worshippers brought him with him to dinner, and they wouldn't stop towering over him, watching him like a specimen. He felt angry. He couldn't stand these people, and all their continuous questions, never letting him forget he was the Antichrist - He had no idea what he was supposed to do - He never received an instruction manual on how to bring the end of the world! This woman brought him to this robotics corporation, where Miss Venable was HR. Kat scowled, hearing about the bitch who tortured her and tried to kill her. He met two ridiculous men who didn't believe him, and to prove he was truly the spawn of Satan, he made a woman spontaneously combust, and turned off the lights. They brought him to eat... Sushi, and they kept talking and talking - Idiots. That's what they were - Complete idiots... Who supposedly sold their souls to Satan and now are billionaires and all that. They were tasked with making an android in Miss Mead's figure, and personality also, based on everything he described her as. And they perfectly created her - Michael had his caretaker back.

The Supreme was continuing to train all the witches, the Academy being protected by Cordelia's power, and everyone else's. But they were betrayed. The witches were betrayed by one they considered maybe not an ally, but at least neutral. The new Voodoo Queen, Dinah, sabotaged them, destroying their barrier and allowing Michael and Miss Mead to intrude inside the school. Zoe used the cutlery to attack Michael, but he diverted it, and he killed them all. Miss Mead and her robotic weapons killed Zoe and Queenie, and everyone else. Satan greenlit Dinah's talk show for 13 episodes, she should be feeling proud for betraying the whole lot of humanity.

Cordelia and Myrtle saved Kat and Mallory, and not only was he pissed off that he couldn't save his Angel, but he couldn't kill all witches. He returned to the Cooperative, and though he couldn't stand those two cocked-up nerds, they were part of the Illuminati. He needn't magic, but science and nuclear weapons to bring about the end of the world. He just needed three people in the right places, and Armageddon was assured.

The witches hid in Misty's cabin in the swamp... All the few that remained of them. Cordelia, in her dream state, could see Zoe and Queenie dead, as well as all the others. She was convulsing in her comatose state. She couldn't feel their souls... They were erased. They could never be brought back to life. Katrina was shuddering, thinking about everything going on. How could such a catastrophe happen? Her dear little Devil, doing so much evil... She was so confused, so afraid... What was she supposed to do? She didn't want the end of the world, but she didn't want Michael to die either. She loved him too much to allow him to die. Was there nothing she could do? She might not be the Supreme, but was she truly powerless? Was she truly so dumb that she couldn't cook up a plan that would save everything she held dear to he heart?

She watched Mallory getting inside the bathtub and going to save the Romanovs from their demise, but she wasn't yet strong enough to succeed. Returning a hundred years into the past and alerting their fate was too great, even for her... Not yet. She was crying blood, and she was disoriented and frightened. Michael barged in the Illuminati meeting of the world leaders, and brought forth the Apocalypse - And they couldn't decline, for they sold their souls to his Father. On their lands, they'll make Outposts, with the admission price of $100 million. Only the worthy will be allowed permission.

Myrtle infiltrated the Cooperative and she found out that Outpost 3 will be in the place of the Warlock academy, at Hawthorne. She made those two dunderheads make sure her witches had their spots sure there, no matter what. Coco's father was rich, he was going to buy four tickets for the family - Coco, Mallory, Katrina... They were going to be fine there, together, while the others lay in rest, until their powers manifest, and they awaken. It was the only chance to attempt Tempus Infinituum. The three were going to be placed under an identity spell - They will forget everything and gain new personalities. Coco was going to be the supreme bitch, with Madison's personality as her own, and she was going to emotionally torture Mallory and Katrina, so their powers won't be detected. It was a huge risk, knowing Katrina's involvement with Michael, and his own obsession with her, but if his mind is occupied with her, perhaps they can attempt everything, right under his nose. It was a painful goodbye, not only to their own selves, but to their witch family - All for the Coven to live on. For the World to live on. Tears were shed, and regrets and confesses were spoken... If the world was going to end, at least they'll be together.

Everything they every knew completely disappeared, and this was the point where Katrina forgot all about Michael Langdon and his love for him. Coco was going to Mr. Gallant for a hair styling, whilst Mallory and Kat were there as assistants... Or slaves rather. Mallory stuck by her side even during the Outpost, whilst Katrina was diverted to other jobs, some personal to other Purples, some that instilled cleaning around and such. No wonder she became such a crybaby, being tormented like that. But it was fine, he was going to make everyone pay for what they've done to her. They were all going to pay so dearly.

Nobody was going to take away the beautiful Angel from the ugly Devil's arms ever again.

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#ahs apocalypse x oc #ahs apocalypse imagine #ahs apocalypse x reader #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x oc #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader

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howlingdemon13 · 1 year ago

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Can we talk about Trevor’s sass and bully energy in CoD? Please? Please, I really want to talk about the sassy boi so bad!!!!!!

I have so many ✨thoughts✨ as to why an otherwise open guy who makes friends exclusively with fellow misfits would be so hostile to someone like Hector (a misfit trying to do the right thing).

I know some people have pointed out that it’s because Trevor is slightly affected by Dracula’s curse, but I feel like that kinda takes away from a more core/interesting take that you can make an argument for.

While I like the idea of even a Belmont being susceptible to dark magic to some degree (we see this happen with other Belmonts like Simon and Richter), I feel like it takes away from something that I think is a little more obvious?

Man’s is pissed, bro.

Trevor and his family have gone through hell up until this point. His ancestor basically doomed the clan to forever hunt the most evil being on earth for what will end up being centuries (looking at you, Leon). Which is good, considering they’ve made themselves the most qualified, but it cost them basic respect from the people they’re protecting and they’ve lost so much more because of it. But they’re noble and don’t seem to complain. You’re lucky, Leon.

Now, we know Trevor probably doesn’t care what people think about him so long as he can keep them safe. It’s his duty, and we see time and time again that he’ll literally do anything to make sure people are alive so that they can think their stupid silly thoughts about him and his family. By his time, he’s exiled, excommunicated, and shunned but he never once complains. Even when people come crawling to him for help, he doesn’t hesitate to do so. This is what he was called to do: kill Dracula and bring peace. He’s noble like that. He’s a knight like Leon in his own way.

As far as he knows, Dracula cannot come back after he and his friends defeated him in CV3.

Until things start looking… off. There’s a creeping darkness and uncertainty that feels so familiar. But that’s impossible, right? Dracula is gone, so how…?

“You’re telling me Dracula’s employee - some fucking guy - wants to bring Dracula back from the dead!?”

Would you not also be fucking pissed? To have your family endure centuries of pain and trauma - to have experienced it for yourself - and finally done what you have prepared your entire life to potentially do, only for some fucking guy to try to fuck all of that up? Would you not rush out of your home to go kick their ass and pummel them for daring to plunge the world into darkness? That same darkness you yourself expunged and went through hell to do???

Uh, if you say no you’re a liar.

From canon, we know that Trevor and Sypha have either started a family or are at least thinking about it at this point (I assume it’s the former since I am 110% certain she would have tagged along. Things would have been so much easier with her magic. And I personally think that would be a fun date idea - beating the tar out of Dracula’s unhinged employee - but I realize I’m not most people). Point being, Trevor not only has to worry about all of humanity (again), but his family. And, considering he was the last known member of his family when Dracula bit the dust, he’s going to fight tooth and nail to keep this.

If you say you’d play nice and try to be understanding when the lives and futures of your kids are at stake, you’re lying. Idk what to tell ya.

Trevor obviously takes initiative and it borders on impulsiveness, but he’s not going to make the mistake of letting this situation get to a point that all hell breaks loose if he has any say in it. I do like to think that he’s inherently a little sassy anyway, but let’s ramp that up to 100 when he’s livid.

But anger leads to getting sloppy and making mistakes. He doesn’t give Hector a chance to explain himself. That would take too much time. The Forgemaster could deceive him and cost him time or worse. He gets distracted and lets Isaac get away. He gets distracted again and nearly gets himself killed.

Maybe under different circumstances Hector would have at least gotten an apology. Like “aw fuck, sorry. I forgot there were two of you. My bad. Wanna help me out with this one?” Ultimately, he does help Hector despite his initial skepticism, and I think it’s a mix of feeling at least a little bad about beating him up and realizing that he works better with a team.

Going off of how he talks down to Hector after beating him up, one could argue that maybe Trevor is just kinda full of himself? Like he’s riding the high off of being the hero? Well, you’re wrong. Trevor is very quick to hype his friends up and give them equal credit in kicking Dracula’s ass. Sure, maybe he jokes about it with his friends, but he’s not full of himself to the degree that he’s going to hype himself up when his friends aren’t around. He’s humble like that. Fight me behind Waffle House about it.

Trevor isn’t incompetent, but he does let his emotions control him. Again, he works better with a team, but he’s so impulsive and pissed at this point that he probably just ran out of the house to go and do what is (up until this point) his job; keep people safe. Keep his family safe.

So, yeah, maybe the curse feeds into his emotions and decisions, but I think it’s more compelling for Trevor to be a very tired, traumatized, and livid dad doing what he thinks is the right thing to do to make sure his kids (and other people, sure) have a future in which they don’t have to go through the horrible things their mom and dad (and uncle Grant and uncle Alucard) went through. If he could see what became of future members of his family and see the hells they faced, I genuinely think it would break his heart.

So yeah, Trevor is bitchy, but I think he has a right to be bitchy when someone is threatening to blow down his metaphorical house of cards that he went through hell to stack up.

#castlevania curse of darkness #trevor c belmont #I love this man so much #he’s the goodest boy #fite me about it #he’s within his right to be sassy #castlevania: dracula's curse #castlevania iii #Castlevania

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ravenlly · 7 months ago

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(Sun and Moon Show Theory #4 :Ruin Will Get Reset)

This is basically an alternative to the last theory I posted.

Also, yes, I'm posting another post about Ruin, hush.

So, Ruin thinks he will die. He's made it quite obvious he wants to die and that he'd be at peace now that he has taken down the Creator Council. Tons of beings are going after him or just simply want him dead for what he did to all those dimensions. Yet he's somehow still alive just twiddling his thumbs in his cell (well, not even doing that since he can't move his thumbs-). By all accounts, Ruin thought he'd be dead now. Moon and Eclipse both wanted him dead pretty badly. Eclipse has wanted him dead for a while now and Moon did at first when he realized he'd been lied to. Yet he's still alive.

I feel like he's being kept around for a reason. Like, yeah, said the reason could simply be so that he goes out with a bang after some more angst, but I feel like there's a possibility he won't be killed off. I mean, Moon has said killing doesn't really solve anything since all their enemies seem to come right back like dandelions after you cut the lawn. Earth despises Ruin but does not want him dead. Sure, almost everyone else does, but I'm sure it'll come down to the celestial family being the ones to decide his fate.

Perhaps he'll still be alive in his cell when Solar himself is revived. If this does happen, it could possibly mean Solar may be the one who will decide his fate. From what we know about Solar, he isn't vengeful. He'd only kill Ruin if he believed him to still be a threat to everyone.

But there's a chance he won't be forgiven. There's an even bigger chance he doesn't want to be forgiven. Keep in mind Ruin lost everyone he loved long, long ago, and has made it his mission to avenge them and save other universes from suffering the same fate. He has made it clear that he misses them and doesn't believe he has any place in life anymore now that he has completed what he set out to do starting so long ago. He also struggles mentally with the things he had to do during that time, where he'd been forced to harm people under the guise of a persona in order to fit into his universe without being caught, stopped, and possibly killed before he could kill all the Creators he possibly could. So, yeah, even he himself doesn't want to exist due to his self-loathing and suffering.

Yet it wouldn't make sense for the protagonists to kill him now. He's at their mercy. Sun has already gone through hell after killing Bloodmoon and Moon himself believes killing doesn't solve anything. Lunar does too now and Earth always has and hopefully always will. She hates Ruin but would never wish death upon her worst enemy, it seems. Solar, if he were to be revived before Ruin woke up, wouldn't want to kill him. It wouldn't make sense for the protagonists to kill someone who is at their mercy (again, since they did it to Eclipse), right? Plus, they'd be giving him what he wants, which they would also not like very much.

Yet Ruin will never be trusted. They can't trust him after all his lies and the way he manipulated them time and time again, especially when he pretended to be their clumsy little harmless friend. Nothing he can do will ever regain their trust and he is quite aware of this. Nobody would ever, ever trust him or even like him as he is now, knowing what he has done and is capable of.

So what's the alternative?: A reset, similar to what Moon went through. He doesn't have to fully die but he doesn't have to live as he is either. He can start a new life without trauma and without judgement (mostly, as I'm sure there will be people still unforgiving and after him after what he has done, not caring about him being a different person). He can finally have the celestial family as his real family, with no trickery involved or needed. Moon said he was starting to see him as family and, in this case, Ruin could have a family. He wouldn't be tainted with memories of his old Creator and the world that was torn into pieces before his eyes.

After all, Ruin isn't evil by default. His default personality seems like it would be quite sweet. This means he wouldn't be dangerous after a reset. There's no need to kill someone who isn't a threat if you don't have to, right? It would make the most sense. Ruin himself would likely agree to this. Maybe he'd even need to think about it but I can see him ultimately agreeing to a reset and seeing it as a merciful option.

Anyway, here's my theory on what could happen!! If it doesn't happen...well, I'll write a fanfic about it. I like the idea a lot and it's a nice alternative to Ruin dying.

#rambles #sun and moon show #tsams #sams #tsams ruin #sams ruin #tsams theory #sams theory #sun and moon show theory

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tenebris-lux · 1 year ago

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Content/trigger warnings: talk of self-destructive behavior and suicide.

Does anyone else find the changes in Jonathan … worrying? I think that promise to not tell Mina anything about the case is part of the reason. He can’t vent to her, she can’t encourage him to talk, so he’s starting to obsess, and the obsession is getting dragged out by the wait for the Czarina Catherine.

I’ve also been rereading a paragraph from October 3:

“To one thing I have made up my mind: if we find out that Mina must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that unknown and terrible land alone. I suppose it is thus that in old times one vampire meant many; just as their hideous bodies could only rest in sacred earth, so the holiest love was the recruiting sergeant for their ghastly ranks.”

At first glance, one might think, “ohhh, that’s so sweet, he loves her so much….” But it’s not sweet. It’s … bad. Yes, he loves her THAT much. So much that if something were to happen to her, he’d let the same thing happen to himself. Vampires aren’t romantic creatures in this novel—they’re demonic, murdering monsters with no identifying behaviors of the person they used to be. The vampires are predators. They go after children, babies, take blood from people against their will, and sometimes enjoy their victims’ pain. Jonathan has seen this firsthand while helpless and in near-paralyzed states, has nearly been a victim of one. He knows all this. And his statement indicates he’ll willingly do that to other innocent people too if Mina turns.

As the vampire isn’t really who they were when alive, it’s not like it’ll be a comfort to each other if they both turn. For all we know, they might not have the same feelings for each other after they’re both vampires. Dracula lost all interest in Lucy once she turned. Jonathan would probably be Mina’s prime target (if she remembers; Lucy didn’t go after Arthur until he was in front of her, then she threw the child to the ground; and we knew how much he meant to her when she was alive). Harker didn’t promise to stake Mina either, so … he’d just let it happen.

Take out the word “vampire” and put in the word “zombie” or “ghoul”. It’ll amount to the same thing. She’ll bite him, he’ll turn … and then they’ll each hunt for more victims. Maybe together, maybe apart. It won’t be THEM anymore. His entries essentially say, “vampires can increase their numbers by going after their loved ones … fine. I’ll join them if it comes to that.” Become a “Devil of the Pit” like all of them. A “Thing,” as Seward called the vampire that had been Lucy.

So … to me, it sounds more like a suicide promise. He wouldn’t make sure she doesn’t hurt anyone else … he’d just follow suit. Because everything else in the world? It’s not even secondary; it’s inconsequential. Mina dies or turns, he’s not going to allow himself the chance to recover. Hell, if he sticks true to his vow, he might turn on the other guys to prevent them from staking her. And that would be against Mina’s dying wish.

Preferably, he wants the Count dead and out of their lives. Then … well, he’s not thinking about afterwards, because there might not be one.

Looking at his October 4 entry and comparing it to his behavior now, there’s clear deterioration in his psyche:

“For my own part, now that his horrible danger is not face to face with us, it seems almost impossible to believe in it. Even my own terrible experiences in Castle Dracula seem like a long-forgotten dream. Here in the crisp autumn air in the bright sunlight—

Alas! how can I disbelieve! In the midst of my thought my eye fell on the red scar on my poor darling’s white forehead. Whilst that lasts, there can be no disbelief. And afterwards the very memory of it will keep faith crystal clear. Mina and I fear to be idle, so we have been over all the diaries again and again. Somehow, although the reality seems greater each time, the pain and the fear seem less. There is something of a guiding purpose manifest throughout, which is comforting. Mina says they perhaps we are the instruments of ultimate good. It may be! I shall try to think as she does. We have never spoken to each other yet of the future….”

Since then, the very next day in fact, Mina made Jonathan promise to keep her ignorant of the plans to take out the Count.

“‘I promise!’ and as I said it, I felt that from that instant a door had been shut between us.”

Then a few days later, she asked for the assurance that she be taken down should she become a danger to anyone. Harker couldn’t promise that. But he did consent to read her the burial service. And if that fucked up Jack as we heard on the phonograph, what must that have been like for him? But even though she’s not technically dead, they’re keeping distance between them, so … he’s not doing well. His entries after the burial service have some cynical humor in them. Jack said today that Harker’s hands were like ice while they’re all just waiting for news, and he’s sharpening his blade “which he now always carries with him.”

None of these are good signs. The only future he’s thinking of at this point is the Count’s destruction, so that’s what’s defining him now.

Count Dracula may be a ways away, but he’s caused a psychic drain to happen to Harker. Again. And this time, Mina can’t help bring him back to health. He can’t open up to her, and she can’t get herself involved. They can’t balance each other or work together like they’re used to. All they can do … is just see each other. And hurt. And Jonathan’s best outlet right now is sharpening that damn knife.

#jonathan harker #mina harker #count dracula #lucy westenra #vampires #dracula #dracula daily

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 2 years ago

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Pine ~ B.A.

Part 4

A/n: I’ve seen a lot of people want this series to return so I thought it would be a good place to start for my Wednesday fic continuations :) Enjoy!

Word Count: 6100+

MASTERLIST

It was hard to keep mistrusting Jay as Earth 2 Y/n went off at every chance to tell anyone who would listen how amazing he was. In fact, everyone used it as a reason for Y/n to finally stop being so difficult. But Y/n couldn't stop thinking about how Zoom didn't steal his speed, and it rang around in his head.

"Hate to play Devil's advocate-" Eobard began in Y/n's head.

"Untrue but continue," Y/n shot back.

Eobard' s smile was something Y/n felt rather than saw as he continued, "Look I don't trust him either, but he might have not taken your speed because it's different than Barry's. If Zoom works off of Barry's speed, he might work with the normal Speed Force. But you use the Negative Speedforce, so-"

"My powers might cancel his out," Y/n realized. "Okay but how could he know that? How could he know how my powers worked? How YOUR powers worked. He's not from the future, and if there were different speed forces wouldn't that have come up with Harry or Jay at the very least? Or Y/n, since he knows so much about Flash from Earth 2." Y/n ran his hands through his hair. Then he paused. "You know... another question: why did Zoom keep Jesse alive?"

"For bait," Eobard drawled. "I mean we already knew that."

"Yeah but bait for WHAT?" Y/n demanded. "What could Harry do that he can't do on his own? Get close to Barry. Put himself on the line. Obviously. But for what? If Zoom wanted Barry dead, he could have killed him that night he beat Barry up and dragged him around town to rub it in everyone's face. He proved he's faster than Barry, and he's faster than us. So he doesn't want to kill Barry. I mean, hell, if it was about getting his hands dirty why only send ONE Earth 2 meta human to kill Barry? Why not send a whole hoard and go with them to make sure it happened? I mean, all Barry doing is getting better and stronger and faster, pushing himself harder." He froze. "This is like when you pushed Barry to get faster so you could use his speed to go back to the future."

"Thanks for the reminder," Eobard grumbled in Y/n's head, but he sounded tired. Y/n didn't care enough to ask about it.

Y/n began pacing. "I mean it makes no sense for Zoom to want Barry to get better. Unless... I mean he took Jay's speed right? Maybe he wants to do the same to Barry. Which would mean he has to have a reason to do it. I mean it would make sense that if he wanted Barry's speed, like you did, he would want it to be the best possible, just before Barry was good enough to beat him." Y/n let out a long breath. "This is exactly like when you were Reverse Flash. I- I feel like-" Y/n groaned. "I feel like I'm missing something. I mean, if the pattern holds then Jay is Zoom, but that's impossible. He's here and we've seen them in two different places at the same time. Maybe they're working together? I mean, why hasn't Jay visited Y/n 2 since he's been back, if they're as close as they seem? He has excuse after excuse, and even Y/n seems weirded out by it. He expected Jay to be there at his side. It's like-" He went still again. "It's like he's a completely different person."

Eobard chuckled in Y/n's head. "Isn't that what Harrison's old friends said about me?"

Y/n began walking again, but it quickly turned into a run as he sped to where Harry and Jesse were talking. They turned at the sound of rushing air, and whatever pleasant conversation they'd been having stopped as smiles dropped when they saw Y/n's expression. "I'm sorry to bother you, but Harry I have a very urgent question."

Immediately Harry stood. He'd kept to the promise he'd made when Y/n had first woken up, and more than ever it was appreciated in this moment. "Jesse I'll be back in a second okay?" She nodded immediately and the two men went into the hallway, far out of earshot of Jesse.

Y/n turned to Harry. "Did Zoom ever contact you? Ask for you to do something in favor of Jesse being alive?" Harry seemed to hesitate, and Y/n touched his shoulder. "I will never blame a father for protecting his child. Ever. I don't care what you've done."

That seemed to ease Harry enough to say, "He wanted me to take Barry's speed. Bring it to him and slowly but surely give it to Zoom so he'd be faster." He rubbed the back of his neck. "He's obsessed with being the fastest man alive, I'm not surprised that-"

"Why aren't you surprised?" Y/n asked, dead serious.

Harry analyzed Y/n's expression. "What are you thinking?"

Y/n bit his lip, trying to organize his chaotic thoughts into a coherent sentence. "Jay said Zoom stole his speed." Harry nodded. "And Zoom proved that he's more than fast enough to take Barry down, the night he almost killed Barry. He obviously doesn't want Barry dead, because he wants his speed. And if he doesn't want Barry dead, he wants his speed, why send meta humans to kill him?" Harry's eyes began to widen. Y/n didn't stop. "I think Zoom is... training Barry, in a weird way. Making him better, stronger. So when he steals Barry's powers, they'll be as good as possible without being good enough for Barry to beat him. But- but if that's the case, why doesn't he just take them? Why does he need you to do it? I mean, if he took Jay's, why can't he just do it again?"

Harry was silent for a very long time. "We already figured out that in a lot of ways, we're different than you guys. We vibrate at a different frequency, for example. Maybe whatever Zoom did to Jay couldn't work here because of those differences. Maybe he's waiting for that perfect moment. After all, Jay and Zoom fought for two years, right? Something along that timeline." Y/n considered that, then sighed. Harry nodded in understanding. "I know you don't trust him Y/n, and after everything I've heard about Eobard Thawne, I can imagine why - especially with how more similar these situations are getting by the day. But we know Jay isn't Zoom, we've seen it with our own eyes. Not everyone trying to help you is secretly a villain."

Y/n put his hands on his hips. "Then why is Jay being so distant from Y/n 2? I mean the way Y/n talks it, they were like father and son. Jay trained Y/n to be a hero. They worked closely together. They're like Barry and Cisco and Caitlyn. If Barry had been taken, Caitlyn and Cisco would be all over him waiting for him to wake up. Everyone said that Jay almost seems to avoid talking to Y/n, or being anywhere near him. Sometimes he even does things that when I tell Y/n, he makes odd faces, or he'll tell me stories that honestly don't match our Jay. It's like they're two different people. Exactly like when Eobard Thawne became Harrison Wells."

Again, Harry nodded, taking it into serious consideration. "I see what you're thinking, but you have to be serious right now. We're facing a threat, and you're trying to prove someone we all trust is an enemy. It would destroy Caitlyn and his relationship if you pushed this, and I doubt she'd forgive you if you were wrong." Y/n began to get frustrated, and Harry held his hands up defensively. "I'm not saying don't do it, or drop it. You're no scientist, but you're incredibly clever and you see things simply, and for what they are. You have incredible insight and your gut instinct allows you to reveal some truths that Barry and Caitlyn and Cisco and I look past because we're thinking too out of the box. Sometimes things are exactly as they appear, and that goes for all of us. I'm just saying... get some proof before you make a scene out of this, okay? Some real, solid proof. Not just hunches or misaligning information. Not just a feeling, but logical, undeniable proof. Joe and Iris will follow you on a feeling, but you need everyone to believe you, and when dealing with scientists' minds, you need proof so undeniable that you literally cannot deny it."

Y/n nodded. "You're right. Thanks Harry." Harry nodded back and they parted. Y/n left, heading next to look for Jay. He found him outside, seeming to be enjoying the nice day. Y/n had taken the day off of work today, calling in sick. Since he never did that, they allowed the last minute call out as long as he was willing to deal with double the work the next day. This also meant that Barry was at the lab with Joe, and Iris was at work. Everyone else was inside. They were alone.

As Y/n approached, Jay looked over and immediately seem to grow uncomfortable. On guard. Not necessarily in a defensive way, but more in a way that he always did when Y/n came in the room. Y/n had not made his distrust remotely secret, and it had always made Jay a little awkward. Y/n tried to look at it through a logical lens; just because he thought Jay was suspicious, him being guarded around Y/n, who was off putting and often aggressive made sense. It wasn't proof he was shady, even if it felt like it was. "Hey Y/n," Jay greeted, sighing as he spoke. He was ready for a fight. Y/n's expression was probably as readable as ever.

"Hey," Y/n greeted passively. He stopped in front of Jay, and they both grew quiet. Y/n thought back to how Y/n 2 had described their relationship, and how Harry had reacted to Y/n saving Jesse. If they really had been close, even if it was less than a father-son thing and more just like a friend thing, wouldn't Cisco have been endlessly thankful for Y/n saving Caitlyn, or wouldn't Jay at least have been like Barry was when Y/n had saved Eddie? Why did he seem to be almost... regretful? Every time it was brought up, Jay seemed to grow distant and quiet, and he seemed to fight a frown. Like he wasn't happy about it. "Have you been in to see Y/n yet? From your Earth I mean. He's been missing months, I'm sure you're relieved that he's okay. He never stops talking about how close you two are."

Jay actually smiled. "Yeah he's like my little brother." His smile seemed tight though, and Y/n wondered how to draw out of him why. "But I've been busy. He understands. He needs to rest anyway, you know? I'm just gonna let him heal and when it comes time, we can hang out when he's feeling better." He paused, then seemed to remember something. "Thank you for saving him by the way. It means a lot to me, and I owe you a lot." He smiled, patting Y/n on the chest, but he'd said it as an after thought. It felt... forced.

Y/n nodded anyway though. "Of course. I just, listen that's not why I'm really here." He donned an awkward smile. "I just... I hate to ask, because I know I haven't been the best to you, but I think Zoom is going to try and pull a Thawne and attempt to steal Barry's powers. I don't know why yet, but - anyway I was just wondering if you would maybe tell me how Zoom took your speed? I think he'll try something similar with Barry."

Jay seemed to hesitate, but then he nodded. "He stabbed me with his fingers. I think there was something attached to them, but they injected into me and drained me of the Speed Force." Y/n nodded. "You're a smart man. A full blown scientist and stuff. How do you think it works?"

Once again, Jay hesitated, this time longer. He seemed to be looking at Y/n with a look that feigned nervousness but was really just an attempt to read him. To see where he was going with this. He was suspicious, but of what? Y/n had given him a perfectly good reason to ask, and if he had nothing to hide then why be so weird about the questions? "I think he separated the speed force from my cells and extracted it. It's possible, and irreversible."

Again Y/n nodded thoughtfully. "What do you think we could do to prevent that with Barry? I mean he can just vibrate through any armor we give him. Is there nothing to stop Zoom in the end when he gets what he wants? When he's ready to strike?"

That caused Jay to raise an eyebrow. "You don't think he's trying to kill Barry?"

"No," Y/n answered immediately. "I mean if he'd really wanted to kill Barry he would have when he'd dragged Barry around a while ago. Made a whole show of how much he beat Barry, so on and so forth. I think he's fatting him up per say, like a Thanksgiving turkey, or bacon for breakfast. Which confuses me, because when he had me captured, I couldn't train anymore. In fact, I was getting weaker, so if he was going to just steal my powers and then let me die, you think he would have done it pretty quickly. Then I wouldn't have escaped and gotten Jesse and Y/n 2 out. Pretty dumb move on his part."

Jay huffed in amusement. "Bad guys think they know everything, don't they?" He shook his head, smiling. "I would say though, taking your powers would be a risk wouldn't they? Because he might take your shape shifting abilities, and those are useless to him. Or he might take Thawne full go since he's basically just energy at this point anyway."

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Barry tell you how my powers work?"

"Caitlyn," Jay corrected.

"Makes sense," Y/n conceded. "But... Zoom wouldn't know that. I mean, he doesn't know us personally or anything, and he's only ever seen me with Thawne's speed, so you'd think he'd just assume it was mine. He has no proof otherwise."

Jay nodded at that. "I don't know then. I would say he might have been considering using you as leverage like Jesse, but he didn't have to let you keep your powers for that. Maybe it was just one of those things, right? People make mistakes. Now you're back and a lot more of our friends are safe. His loss."

"Huge loss," Y/n agreed. "Can't wait to rub it in his face next time I see him." He smiled at Jay and then turned and began walking away. "If you need me, I'll be with Y/n 2. We have a lot to talk about now that I think about it. Being on Earth 2 and so close to you and having been with Zoom all that time, he might know something important." He waved then and zoomed back to the room where Y/n 2 was. He smiled at him, and got a smile back. He sat in his usual spot, letting a breath out. "How you feeling?"

"Pretty good actually." Y/n 2 had found a safe haven on the bed, comfy and healing. "You know I was wondering why it was taking me so long to heal, and then I realized... I mean, he was using my blood. To make a sort of healing potion or whatever. He withdrew it every day, and I only realized about a month or two in what he must be doing with it. I don't know how much he has stored up, but... if I'm right we have a problem."

Y/n considered that a second. "Let's not talk about that now. Why don't you tell me more about Jay?" The other Y/n light up, immediately diving into yet another story. Y/n would think the other him was in love with Jay in any other circumstance, but it hadn't seemed like that was the case. When Y/n 2 finished his story, Y/n asked, "What do you think about Caitlyn and Jay?"

Y/n 2 considered that a moment. "I mean, if they're happy together then I'm happy for him. But... isn't he a little old for her?"

Bingo. "What do you mean? He's plenty young."

The other Y/n laughed. "I mean I know they say you're young until you're dead, but I mean he has to be old enough to be her dad, or somewhere around there at least."

"Really?" Y/n hummed. "He doesn't look it."

Y/n 2 seemed confused for a moment, but then recognized the look on Y/n's face. "You think something's up?"

"I know something's up," Y/n corrected. "And you're going to prove it. You think you can stand?"

Y/n helped Y/n 2 get better at walking for the next few days in prep for the perfect moment Y/n could carry out his plan. The moment came when a meeting was called. Everyone would be there - it was perfect.

Y/n was impatient, waiting for everyone to get back. It probably didn't help that Barry was the first one to arrive. The men sat in silence for a while until Y/n offered up, "So why isn't Patty ever here? Last I heard you were planning to tell her."

Barry chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah... then she almost got killed by the Turtle because I tried to save her, and it just reminded me that everyone close to me is constantly in danger, and I began wondering... maybe, you know, she shouldn't know."

Y/n rose an eyebrow. "Yeah, I heard that huge secrets like that really make the strongest of relationships." Barry glared at Y/n. "I'm serious, Barry. You can't think that's going to go well for long. Are you serious about this girl or not? I mean for goodness sakes, she's a cop. She's already in danger. Wouldn't she be safer if she knew what was going on? What to expect? Who to trust? All the people closest to you know your secret for a reason. You suck at keeping one."

Barry sighed. "I guess. I just-"

"Whatever excuse you're about to come up with, save it," Y/n chastised. "The only thing you have to consider, is if all of the hard things and bad days and struggles are worth it. She is always going to be in danger if you love her. As long as she's in Central City at least, whether she knows or not. At least she could have been better prepared facing Turtle, knowing his whole thing about what's dearest to you, if she knew she was that dearest thing."

Barry seemed to genuinely consider it for a moment. Then his shoulders sagged in defeat. "I hate that you're always right." Y/n grinned in victory, and Barry seemed to catch it, mirroring the expression. Y/n was struck by how attractive he was when he smiled. He light up the whole room, his eyes shining like twinkling lights. He was beautiful.

They looked away from each other at the same time.

Mercifully, that was when Cisco, Jay, Caitlyn, Harry and Jesse came in as well. They began discussing business, waiting for Joe and Iris to get back as well. Apparently there was some big plan they wanted to discuss with someone. When they were all together, and the plan to go to Earth 2 was exposed, Y/n was the first one to pipe up. "I have to go."

Cisco seemed surprised by that. "Have to? Hell, why would you even want to? Earth 2 is where Zoom is, in case you forgot. We're going to be on his turf again. You're going to be back to where you almost died."

"Yeah, but-" he paused. "Y/n's girlfriend is probably worried sick. I want her to know he's okay."

Harry scoffed. "What, as him? Don't you think explaining the whole Earth 2 thing will be a bit hard for her to wrap her head around?"

"Knowing her?" Y/n mumbled under his breath. "Not really." A few people heard him though and he smiled to himself like he had a secret. And he did. For some reason, knowing that HE got Patty in this universe sent a little thrill through him. He was happy there. He could only imagine how Patty was worried sick... but then he thought about how it had been around two years that Y/n had been missing. He wondered suddenly if she had moved on. If Y/n 2 had anything to go back to. "Honestly, she might have moved on." This he said normally, seriously. "I mostly want to see if other Y/n has anything to go back to when he's well enough to go home again."

Barry nodded, speaking first. "Fair enough. You're coming with us."

"Awesome. In my stead, I think Y/n 2 needs some space to walk around." He looked at the med room and Y/n 2 took his cue beautifully, limping out right then. He looked around the room, smiling, and Y/n couldn't help but notice the way his eyes glanced over Jay without a second thought. The same way it glanced over all of the others. Without recognition, or excitement at seeing a familiar face, or even excitement at seeing one of the people he was closest to. Y/n helped his other self further into the room and looked over to see Jay frozen and awkward. He felt like he was winning. Now he was sure, beyond belief that he'd been right.

Jay Garrick was not who he said he was.

He just needed more proof, something absolutely undeniable. And he was going to get it.

Y/n leaned against the desk, smiling at everyone again. "I'll try and stay out of your way, I just hate sitting back and doing nothing all day everyday, especially when you're all out there putting your lives on the line for my world. I want to help." Everyone nodded, and it was set. Jay and Y/n met eyes, and his face darkened when he saw Y/n smirk. Y/n was onto him, and only then did the question of whether that was a good idea or not arise.

Guess it was too late to go back now.

Earth 2 was awesome, but impossible to pay attention to with Y/n's tunnel vision. They didn't have long and they had a lot to do. Y/n had separated from the group pretty quickly, racing through the city to try and find Earth 2 Patty.

He found her at the precinct. Y/n wasn't even remotely surprised. In fact, he chided himself for not having looked here first.

Ignoring Barry - mostly because Barry was scrambling, accompanied by Iris, and seeing her look at him like that knowing the two of them were together in this world made him sick to his stomach - Y/n watched Patty. Watched her move, stone cold and zoned out. She looked like Barry had when he had first lost Y/n, before confronting him. Now things were awkward, and there was still pain between them, but it was almost a relief to the hollowness that had echoed in Barry before. Seeing it again in Patty made Y/n's heart ache.

"You're seriously crushing on her?" Thawne snapped.

Y/n sighed. "No. Honestly, at first maybe a little. She was such a reprieve. But now she's Barry's, and they were made for each other." He chuckled a little, shaking his head. "It's just, in this world, I'm so happy. They're so in love and Y/n's only ever been a success. A hero. My mistakes are horror stories compared to his. It's just nice to think about. That in some reality at least, I'm happy." His voice cracked, eyes watering. He rose a hand to wipe his eyes to clear away the watery vision.

His mistake.

When he could see clearly again, his eyes locked with Patty's. She looked like she was about to fall to her knees. Y/n out a finger to his lips, suddenly panicked. How had she seen him? Oh god what was he going to tell her? His reaction - caution, and panic - made her hesitate. He saw the pain she was feeling though, forcing herself to stay put, so he waved her over. She made some excuse and slid away from the precinct and outside, to Y/n's side.

She approached him slowly, eyes wide and full of tears. Her hands extended out, arms limp and fingers twitching. Like she wanted to touch him but was terrified to. He couldn't torture her like this. "I'm not your Y/n," he whispered. "But I can take you to him."

She physically stuttered. "I... I have questions."

He nodded. "I know. Feel free to ask them."

So she did. They spent ten whole minutes talking, getting all the details of what happened, where Y/n 2 had gone, and who the person in front of her now was. When she was satisfied, she looked at Y/n very seriously. "Take me to him."

Y/n was impressed. She had taken everything so well. "Of course. Can I ask you one favor?" She nodded immediately. "Whatever you need."

A smile came to Y/n's face. One of victory. "Y/n was very close to Jay. I'm assuming as you two were dating and you know who he is, and you and Jay were close too?" Patty nodded immediately. "If I showed him to you, could you identify him for me?" She nodded again, this time slowly. "Thank you. Someone's impersonating Jay Garrick and I need proof so my friends will believe me."

That was enough explanation. Her loyalty extended to Jay, and it made Y/n gleeful. "No one taints Jay's name. Show me the man."

They were gone.

They appeared on Earth 1 just in time. Barry looked surprised to see Patty in Y/n's arms, especially because she was so obviously from Earth 2, but the pair blew past him and he didn't get any time to question it. They moved instead into the main control room. Y/n 2 seemed to have gotten his feet underneath him and though he moved slowly around the room, he was moving without limping or holding onto anything. An improvement.

Patty ran to Y/n immediately. The clatter of her footsteps made Y/n turn and despite his weakness, he didn't even hesitate to rush to meet her in the middle.

Barry walked in and saw the pair and froze in the doorway. "You're alive," Patty gushed, tears streaming down her face.

Y/n 2 laughed, wiping the tears off of Patty's face even as his own face was covered. "I'm so sorry Pat, I- I'm so sorry-" he was breaking down and everyone watched on with extreme confusion.

And then they kissed.

Barry looked at Y/n, who refused to look at anything or anyone. Watching Y/n 2 be happy was only a reminder that he wasn't, and watching the weird jealousy in Barry's face only made it worse. "Patty." He only called her name when the pair had parted and caught their breaths. She wiped her face, sorting herself out quickly before she turned to Y/n.

"Right. Where is he then?"

"Where is who?" Not-Jay asked, looking between the three people with growing stress.

Y/n stepped forward, smirking. His arms crossed over his chest. "For you."

Caitlin went to approach Y/n, growing angry at what she saw as childishness, but she was stopped short by Patty's voice. "Who the hell are you?"

The room was dead silent for a few beats. "What am I missing?" Y/n 2 asked.

Patty said it for Y/n. "That man is claiming to be Jay Garrick. Our Jay."

Y/n looked at the blonde who definitely was not Jay Garrick. "Excuse me?"

Everyone looked at Y/n with shock. All except Patty and Y/n 2, who were enraged, and Jay, who looked at Y/n with a look so impressed that it was almost awe. "Y/n..." he mused, turning to the one person who had known he was full of shit since day one. "How did you figure it out?" Caitlin stumbled away from him in horror. Cisco caught her, keeping her close so she didn't fall to her knees.

Y/n didn't focus on that. Instead he focused on Jay, his eyes narrowing and his mind racing. "We've had a villain like you. One who wanted to harvest Barry's speed. One who pretended to be our friend. Your just another Eobard Thawne - the only difference is how you disguised yourself. You didn't just have Y/n 2 in there because you're using his blood for healing. You had Y/n in there because he would have identified you immediately. The only reason you didn't take Patty is because she was too busy looking for Y/n to care about Jay Garrick - I guarantee it. Because even two years later, she never lost hope. She never backed down. She never gave up. She was so obsessed with it that there wasn't any hesitation to kiss him - even after two full years. Two years is a long time, and I know Patty - she focuses on something, grips it hard, and doesn't even think of letting go unless she's pried off of it."

The man pretending to be their friend sighed, long and low. "You talk to me like I AM Zoom. But you've seen us together, I can't be."

"You are," Y/n dismissed immediately. "I don't know how to prove that to you, but you're lying about who you are to get close to Barry, and I guarantee it's because you're not only working for Zoom - you are him." The man smiled, nodding to Y/n. "What's your real name?" Y/n demanded.

The man sighed once again. "You know, I think your cleverness deserves a reward." He stepped closer to Y/n and for once, no one stepped in between them or went to intervene. This was Y/n's moment, for now, everyone else was just living in it. "My name is Hunter Zolomon. I'm sure your friend, Harry, can figure it out. Until then-" he cut off, shooting forward. It was too fast for Y/n or Barry to react to. One burst of speed that carried them halfway to the Earth 2 portal, far away from the labs. Hunter was immediately on a knee though, unable to go further. His breaths were labored and he stumbled, letting go of Y/n. Both men rolled, hitting the ground hard after stopping so short from such a high speed.

When they finally stilled, Y/n pushed up to his knees. He coughed, looking over at Hunter. "Why are you doing this? Did you actually lose your powers? What do you want with Barry?"

Hunter only laughed. "You really don't understand, do you?" He stood, slowly. Y/n got to his feet much sooner but stopped short as something was jabbed into his neck. He was terrified of moving, thinking he was dead until he realized that it was a needle and not a real weapon.

Then he felt something hot pushed into his blood stream.

The needle left him and Y/n stumbled, eyes wide as he moved away. Looked toward Hunter, barely on his feet again, and Zoom. Zoom, who pulled his mask off. They... they were both Hunter. The same person. Y/n gasped as he felt his body begin to ache. But he had to get answers. "You're working with your Earth 1 counterpart?"

"No," Zoom scoffed. "I'm working with my time duplicate." He shook his head at the confusion on Y/n's face. "You'll never understand Y/n. You won't have the time." Hunter laughed as Y/n fell to his knees. Y/n looked up, trying to summon his willpower to at least look strong. Hunter seemed only amused by the effort. The Hunter in the Zoom costume approached the one out of costume, ad there seemed to be a silent understanding between them. Zoom's hand vibrated and buried deep in the other Hunter's chest. The man fell, dead, leaving Zoom standing over him with a satisfied smirk on his face. Y/n watched on in horror.

"How could you do that?" Y/n asked, breathless. He forced himself not to sag as his body began to feel heavy.

Hunter looked over, eyes snapping away from his own dead body, as if suddenly remembering that Y/n was there. Like he had gotten so lost in enjoying the sight of himself dead, he had forgotten. "Oh, him? I was going to do that anyway. He agreed of course - it was going to be a good dramatic effect. Or, it was, before you ruined it." He shrugged. "Now it has to happen because he failed me. You were too clever for us. It's really very admirable. I needed him to be better though, and he wasn't so-" He chuckled and Y/n shivered with disgust. This man... he was insane. "So hard to find good help these days," he added, tone nearing a singing sort of mumble.

"Now what?" Y/n groaned. He blinked as his vision grew blurry.

"Now..." Zoom mused. "You wait to be saved. Or you die." Y/n's arm gave out and he full lay on the ground, groaning at the impact on his shoulder. Zoom shook his head, clicking his tongue in disapproval. "Let's hope Mr. Allen will be here soon." And then he was gone, and Y/n was alone.

Seconds turned to minutes ad Y/ realized the weird echoy, hollow sound was his own breathing. It felt like hours were passing but he knew it was just that the world had started spinning. He closed his eyes to shut it all out. Some time after he did that - it felt simultaneously forever and also immediately - a hand rested on his shoulder. He tried to reach up to hit it away or scramble to safety, worried for a split second that it might be Zoom, but couldn't find the strength so he only groaned. "Y/n?"

As if through a tunnel, Y/n registered that Barry was calling his name. He almost smiled and almost cried. In his head Thawne got distant, almost muffled, but was screaming at him to do something... open his eyes maybe? Or perhaps that was Barry. Y/n couldn't tell exactly. "Barry..."

He thought he was only thought it, not managing to get the words out, but Barry reacted immediately. "Y/n, oh my god. What happened?"

"Needle," Y/n managed. "Poison?" He shrugged weakly, not sure what was going on.

That seemed to confuse Barry. "That's not possible. You have a healing ability, it would have.." His voice faded and at first Y/n thought he had blacked out but realized that Barry was just worried when he picked up again, "We'll figure it out later. Let's get you to Y/n 2 so he can heal you." They were moving again, and Y/n only had the strength to realize that Barry had picked up him, holding him bridal style. Then the world flipped and Y/n groaned, feeling queasy, and he realized that they'd come to a stop - the sudden jerk had not agreed with him. "Y/n!" Barry called. It sounded like he was at the end of a tunnel, and if he wasn't holding Y/n, Y/n would have believed he was very far away.

The voices that all began to talk were too hard to follow. He blinked, trying to focus.

Meanwhile, Barry was looking at the man he loved with true terror for the first time since Y/n had first absorbed Thawne and then disappeared for several months. To the speedster's dismay, Y/n was having a very hard time. Where the needle had been injected, Y/n's veins had begun to turn a sickly green color. Barry had laid him on the table as Y/n 2 had tried his best to figure out what was wrong. If he didn't know what the problem was, he couldn't fix it - he had to know what to do with the energy currently surging through Y/n's body.

Y/n 2 shook his head. "I... I don't know..."

Y/n whined, hand limply twitching. "Barry..." he wheezed, wincing as the air pushed through his throat. Barry surged forward, taking his hand. Y/n looked up at the brunette and smiled. Thawne was far away, and for the first time in a year he felt... at peace. "I-" No, he couldn't tell Barry he loved him. That wouldn't be fair. He just laughed, wincing again, his eyes moving away from Barry to focus on the ceiling. The world got more and more blurry, until even the one voice calling to him was just a jumbled mess of tone - no discernable language to it. Someone was trying to get Y/n's attention; Y/n could tell by the way they pulled his face to look back at them. Y/n couldn't tell who it was though, especially as his heavy eyelids began to close.

The world slipped through his fingers, slowly letting him slip into darkness. He allowed the fall. With the darkness came relief from the pain, and quiet and peace. He couldn't deal with anything else right now, he felt too heavy. Too detached, like his consciousness was floating in an abyss. So he joined it.

Male readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

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