#it’s here that monster of a chapter. i have never written s chapter that long.

[copias-juicebox]

It's a Sin Chapter 2

Part 1 | Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x fem! Reader Words: 5144 Genre: romance, angst, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, SLOWBURN Warnings: explicit languge, violence, abuse, age gap, smut (in the upcoming chapters blabla)

Notes: so i finally got to write down the next part. I am sorry it took so long. Been procrastinating for ages. I was very insecure to write this but i actually found a very sweet soul here to help me. This is why i have decided to dedicate this chapter to the lovely @fishwithtitz. Literally an angel (or demon idk) sent from up or down. However she helped me soooo much writing this and without her you would not be reading this now. So huge kudos and all the love and appreciation for this amazing woman. 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 (you should check out her works she is such a wonderful writer.)

18 years. It had been 18 long years since the night you ran away. The last time you were in your hometown was nearly two decades ago. And now, you are back.

It was so long ago, you barely even remembered the night at all. In your mind, there was just that awful night that resulted in your parents sending you away to learn the discipline they tried to beat into you, mentally and sometimes even physically. The dreadful day you wanted to forget so badly. Remembering that day and the following consequences had a shiver run down your spine. It left you with many scars mentally and you avoided thinking about it.

The school your parents chose for you was a few hours away from your home. It turned out to be an all girls school, run by catholic nuns that would enforce their teaching in only one way. “The way of God“ they always said.

You and all the other young girls had to learn what the nuns taught. The school followed the curriculum like any other school. Mathematics, language arts, science (even if many scientific facts were altered to fit the catholic beliefs), social studies and fine arts. Of course they taught everything from a catholic root and some of the subjects were taught in a very traditional way. Special courses in Bible work and Latin were forced on the students every afternoon. Even the fine arts like music and visual art they kept to a stern regulation. Any indication of „unholyness“ in the themes would be followed by extra bible lessons and hours spent in prayer with the Sister on duty. Nonetheless, your parents would not have sent you here if it were not run by catholic women in service of God. Like all the other girls, you had to obey the many arbitrary rules they set up. If you did not, they made sure you and everyone else were punished in quite severe ways. The nuns could be harsh and unforgiving. One time, a group of girls were found outside after curfew and they had to face the stick and had been locked away for a week.

In the beginning, you had a hard time— but you learned fast and they rarely found you breaking the rules in your later years. That did not mean you just rarely broke them, of course. You just had to be clever about it. Luckily, you were intelligent and learned to maneuvre your way the world. As they say “learn to swim, or you will drown.“ It was hard of course. You honestly tried to be a good girl. You told no lies, and that was when it would become very hard for you to stick to the teachings of the church since the nuns would ask you if they were suspicious of your actions. You always told them half truths. Enough to please them but never telling them nearly enough because that would get you hit with a paddle, your dinner forgone for days and hours of disciplinary work with the nuns to make you find your way back to God. The irony behind their words was never lost on you, only making your and everyone longing for freedom from God stronger.

As a girl, living in a world ruled by men and women acting in service of mankind, you had no say in your future. Your career was chosen long before you could even imagine working at some time in your life. So as soon as you settled into your new school, a nun called Sister Angela would ask you to help her in the infirmary. You were supposed to learn everything from a young age to later become a nurse. Sister Angela was an old and very strict sister. But you found she was actually very kind and warm inside. She was the closest thing you got to a mother figure in your new life so far away from your home. She taught you everything you knew. Everything about the school and the church that ruled over it.

She was very understanding when you were in your teenage years and even helped you once in a while when you were close to facing punishment for not doing your assigned chores in time for the 3rd time in a week. Without her, you might have ended up in a way worse condition than you luckily did. Some nights she was your rock in the waves, supporting you when you needed someone.

Luckily, your new occupation became a passion. You had always been happy to help anyone in need. No matter how. As long as you could help, you would nearly do anything to make other people’s lives easier. A people pleaser. That earned you a lot of praise in the later years from the people in town who got to benefit from your goodhearted nature many times over the years. That was the best feeling in the world — to be appreciated for your work filled you with happiness and it made your heart swell with pride.

After you graduated, you chose to pursue volunteer work on the streets. Helping others in need felt like your calling, and your parents were very happy about it. Working there for a few months gave you time to meet new people, and one day, a man came to you. He explained to you that he was working for a non profit organisation, and if you were interested, he could help you find a job. He would just need to know what your conditions were, and he would try to find a place that would be in dire need of a nurse.

You had been very grateful since you were in need of a job soon anyway. The volunteer work filled you with contentment, but you had to pay bills and your savings were wearing thin. You contacted him and told him that you would like to work somewhere for a church. You told him that you were not too picky, as long as you got your own room.

A few days later, he called you back telling you he found one place that was in desperate need of a nurse and under good conditions as well. It was an old church in a secluded area. They were offering to cover your living expenses, housing, food was inclusive, and they would pay you well enough. One extra perk they offered was that you could take courses in literature or arts for those who liked it. You were pleased to see that the church was located in the very same town you called your home, and since it was a church, you knew your parents would be supporting you to work there. „The Emeritus Church“ was what the guy on the phone said. You‘d never heard of that church before, but you figured it was a place of retired church officials and since you knew the older generation was not fond of electronic devices, you did not think too much of it when you did not find their website mentioned on the list of official catholic churches in your hometown.

You happily accepted the offer and tomorrow was the big day — the day you would start your first day as a nurse in the church.

You stood in front of the train station now. You could no longer live with your parents since they had moved away to another town 40 minutes away and a Sister, Sister Hannah from the Church with whom you had been writing, told you there would be a car to escort you to your new workplace. You were never that nervous in your life. Sister Hannah told you it would be a black Mercedes. She would be there waiting with the driver, and after a short period of time, you spotted a black S-Class rolling into your view.

The car came to halt in front of you and the door on the passenger side opened. A beautiful woman got out of the car. She was about your age you assumed. She wore a black habit and a big smile. As she approached you, the first thing that caught your attention were her shining grey-coloured eyes.

„Hello there. I am Sister Hannah. You might just call me Hannah if you like. You must be our new nurse — and a pretty one at that.“ She started with a warm smile, already fully aware you were the newest member in the ministry. When she stood before you, she extended a hand for you to shake. You smiled at her and took her hand giving her your name.

„It is nice to meet you, Sister Hannah. Yes it is me, I guess.“ you responded with your own smile.

„Wonderful. I am so glad you are here now. Let us not wait for too long here and get your stuff inside the car then. I want to show you a lot today.“

You nodded and began to lift your heavy bags off the ground when Hannah stopped you. „Oh no love don‘t do that I can let the Ghoul carry your stuff you need not to worry about it.“ She was already back at the car speaking to the driver.

You stared at her a bit lost. Did she just call the driver a ghoul? Poor guy might not have an angels face but surely there as no reason to call the poor thing a ghoul was it? Before you could think about it any longer a man opened up the door and walked in your direction. You stared at him wide eyed, not moving an inch when you saw he was actually wearing a silver mask that covered his whole head. The mask had little horns on top and underneath he seemed to wear a black balaclava that covered up his whole face so you could not even see his eyes. Just the mouth was free and he stopped right in front of you, tilting his head to the side.

Sister Hannah was next to you in a heartbeat. „So, this is our new nurse, Swiss. You better behave around her, yeah? Don‘t want me to complain about it to Papa again, right?“

The masked man in front of you turned his head sharply to Sister Hannah at that and just as sharply he looked back at you giving you a big teethy smile, motioning for your bags. You had not realized, but you were holding your bags in a death-like grip. The whole situation was so bizarre.

You gave the odd guy whose name was Swiss your bags. „Oh no, they are quite heavy, you should not carry them all at once.“ He took the heavy bags like they weighed nothing and carried them to the trunk of the car. That was impressive. He did not look like a specifically muscular guy, but you decided to brush it off when Hannah spoke up next to you.

„Perfect, so then let us get going, yeah?“ You followed her to the car and slid into the black soft leather seat behind the passenger where Sister Hannah sat down. The car was very expensive you could tell. The interior was very clean and stylish and the upholstery was not too hard and not too soft. It was very comfortable. This church was very well off you thought.

„So, tomorrow is your first official day, so today we have enough time to get you settled in. I am going to show you around the ministry and maybe we can even get a glimpse of Papa before you officially meet him tomorrow,” She exclaimed, giving you a wink.

„Ah yes that sounds wonderful. I‘d love to see the place and get used to it a bit before I have to put all my energy in the job. But uh..“ you hesitated a bit not sure how you were going to ask her.

Hannah felt your hesitation „Before I forget. Please feel free to ask me anything ok. Or if something is bothering you I am always there with open ears ok?“

You contemplated her words. „Okay uh.. you know, I was just wondering, you mentioned Papa?“ you asked with confusion in your voice.

„Oh you know Papa Emeritus the Third, sweetheart! This is actually his ministry. Even though the Cardinal runs the place mostly. But surely you heard about it.“ Hannah added.

„Uh, no, I actually don‘t know any of these people you‘ve mentioned.“ you muttered.

At that she turned around in her seat, facing you with a questioning look in her eyes.

„Oh you don‘t? I am sorry but how..?“ She contemplated for a bit. „Wait, are you..?“ She stopped mid sentence. „I need to ask you this now. You are a sister of Sin right?“

You locked eyes with her and furrowed your brows. Did she just say ‚Sister of Sin‘? The following silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity. None of you spoke, yet none of you looked away. That silence was only broken when Hannah started laughing out hysterically. „Oh Satan this is good. I mean oh I don‘t mean to be rude but this is probably the funniest thing to happen all year.“ You could not help yourself but start laughing along. Whenever there was something utterly ridiculous you could not stay serious. Doesn‘t matter how significant and bad a situation might be if it was just all too crazy you couldn‘t help yourself.

„Oh my God are you actually serious?“ you giggled.

„I mean, yeah. Ugh, this is so funny.“ she still could not contain her laughter. After a moment she calmed down and began again. „Okay sis, so here is the thing. I will get straight to the point: we are the ministry of Papa Emeritus the Third. I am a declared Sister of Sin and we are worshiping Satan.“

Her words left you speechless. You visibly gulped when you heard her speak of a satanic church. The church you were going to work in. It all left a bitter taste on your tongue and you were uncertain of your choices now. Was it all a bad idea to come here? Should you just run for your life? You were lost and remained still.

She gazed at you unsure of your reaction. „I hope you are not too shocked to hear that your new workplace is literally a satanic church, but I can assure you we are not what you have heard about us. There is no cruelty or sacrificing animals or whatever horror stories are rumored out on the streets. And I deeply hope that you are not going to quit now that you know about our beliefs.“ She begged and looked at you with puppy dog eyes. „I mean, we really need you sister. And we are actually very nice people, you know. I know our reputation is bad, but we believe in equality and justice. Our beliefs are truly well intended and I hope you can at least try and see for yourself, right?“

You just stared at her bewildered, still processing what you‘d heard. You were shocked to hear that. All your life you had only ever heard about them. They perform dark rituals asking for selfish powers. Committing sins, doing the devils deeds, and harming others while doing so. Corrupting every innocent soul out there with immoral beliefs.

But you swore to help others, no matter what side they stood on. Your calling was to help others, and so far, Sister Hannah was actually very kind and nice to you. She made it easy to speak to her and she was very open with you, and you appreciated that. Plus, the offer was just too good not to at least give Satan a chance you thought.

You blinked once or twice, completely overwhelmed with the new piece of information you just got. Hannah waved her hand in front of your face. „Girl, are you still with us? You better not suffer from a heart attack. I don‘t know how to deal with that, you are the nurse and Papa will be mad if I kill our new nurse before she starts her official first day.“

Her words brought you back to the car and Hannah was still looking at you expectantly.

„Ah, well, that really is something new to me, but if you promise me that everyone is nice there and there won‘t be any sacrifices, then I will take a look at your ministry and make my own opinion about it, I guess.“ You decided not to tell her that you were raised strictly catholic. It would only make things more awkward if you did, and since you no longer lived with your parents, you had not practiced your religion as your parents thought you did. In fact, most of the teachings that the nuns and your parents repeated endlessly you did not agree on. They sounded wrong to you and you never understood how in this time so many believed in them. When the nuns told you to always listen to your husband no matter how nonsensical it would be because he was in charge of the woman. When they spoke of God's grace, and yet, he is the one who murdered thousands of innocents just to prove a point or punish one man who did something to anger him. It all made very little sense to you. They were preaching how to be, how to act at all times, that you should always go to church and carry Jesus in your heart. If you did not go to the masses, you‘d face punishment. They forced you and the other girls into a way of living you had not asked for. Of course you could never let anyone know you had doubts. That would only harm yourself more than it could help.

„Oh yes. Thank you. I knew right away you were a good one.“ Hannah cheered. „So now that I know where we stand I should warn you. The ministry probably looks a little intimidating to you. I don‘t know how open you are towards the dark and macabre. We are headed to the woods right now. I know what you are thinking, but really I swear on the Dark One that you have nothing to worry about.“

The road was heading to the outside of town, nearing the woods as Hannah explained to you. After a few minutes more you arrived at a huge rusty and weathered gate.

The heavy wrought iron gate was opened by another man wearing similar clothing and mask as your driver when you came closer. Behind the bars, you caught a glimpse of a huge dark coloured mansion-like building. Nearing the front gate of the main building, you watched in awe as you took in the massive, dark and brooding facade. The heavy stone bricks and intricate decorations established a gothic look of an aged, magnificent architectural house. Thick spines of ivy crawled up the sides of the stone indicating the old age of the whole construction.

The limousine stopped in front of the door and you finally got out of the car. Sister Hannah and the driver got out, and while Hannah led you to the entrance, the driver went to the trunk, pulling out your bags.

„Welcome to the ministry of Papa Emeritus the Third.“ Hannah announced cheerfully, „Swiss love, could you bring the bags inside? I will be showing our new friend here the grounds so she won‘t get lost tomorrow.“ she beamed at you and grabbed your arm linking hers with yours in the process.

As you walked to the entrance, she started explaining to you about the „chain of command“ in the ministry. „I mean, there is not really a true hierarchy. You are still very free to do whatever you want, and if you don‘t want something, you don‘t have to. But Papa is our highest ranking official, and usually we do what he asks of us. I can promise you that he would never ask you to do something you are not willing to do. He can be considered to be our ‘Pope,’ if you will…just better. Oh, and don’t fret when you see Papa for the first time. He has a uh... how should I say... ‘special’ look.“ she smirked, opening the door.

„So, this is the atrium. From here, you can get basically anywhere in the main building.“ She continued leading you around, starting from the cellar, showing you where the kitchen is located, should you ever feel the need for a late night snack, to the main floor where all the official rooms were placed. All the time she informed you about the happenings and everyday life in the ministry. Everyone was tasked with different assignments. The rotation was usually planned by the Cardinal. As the nurse you would not have to do the housework like the Brothers and Sisters of Sin since your job was far more complicated and important than theirs.

She even showed you around outside. The grounds were huge and beautiful. There was a greenhouse located at the far end of the property. Right next to that a big garden bloomed in the sunlight with pretty flowers. Most of them were dark red and black roses.

„They are Primos favourites,“ Hannah informed you when you stopped to take a closer look. “He is very fond and proud of them. So, you better not pick any, or if you do, you better not get caught.” She winked. “The lovebirds here sneak out at night and do all the nasty, sinful things in the garden, and they like to pick a rose after that as a reminder you see. Primo gets mad every time.” Hannah giggled.

The sun had begun to set and the last warm rays of sunshine warmed your skin. It was a truly magical place. You admired every old stone of the walls, every green leaf and every particle of light that cascaded down to the old walls. But like everything in this world, the day was coming to an end, and Hannah suggested you retire for the day.

“We better get you back inside now. I can show you the rest later if you like, or you could roam around on your own.” With that you both made your way back to the main building.

So far, there was nothing too unsettling about the place. The dark decorations with pentagrams and skulls everywhere would be a bit off putting if deep down you didn‘t appreciate the dark. It was one of your biggest ever secrets, but the dark, mysterious, and morbid interested you. It always had.

You and Hannah stood in front of the staircase now. „So, upstairs are the living quarters of the Brothers and Sisters, and yours would be located at the very end of the hall. I will escort you. You must be tired now, and I don‘t want to overwhelm you more than you already are.“

When you reached the top of the stairs, you saw two figures conversing with each other. One of them wore a white dress shirt under a black coat with a crucifix sewed onto the fabric on the left side of his robe. He was wearing dark dress pants accompanied by black and white shoes. The most significant visual effect he had on you was his face. He wore black and white face paint that made him appear to have a skull like head. His pitch black hair was combed back and his piercing eyes made you breathe in sharply. His left eye was white, in stark contrast to the one on the right, which appeared to be greenish. You stared at him, but he was not as unsettling as you would have imagined him to be.

Your gaze met his mesmerizing eyes as you came closer to him, and he kept his eyes on you this whole time. When both you and Hannah stopped in front of the man, she was the first to speak.

“Good evening Papa,” She bowed her head. “Cardinal?” She turned her head to the second man standing there in greeting.

“This is our new nurse. Picked her up by myself from the train station this morning. I was showing her around our ministry.” Then she turned around to you. “This is Papa Emeritus the Third.” She gestured to the man with the skull make-up and you extended your hand to him.

The hypnotizing man turned his whole body to you now, looking down at your hand and then back up into your eyes, catching your hand in his and bowing down to kiss it, all the while holding eye contact.

“La mia bella signorina. Piacere di conoscerti. You must have been sent by Lucifer himself to grace our insignificant church by your beauty.” He almost purred. “You can call me Terzo, bella.” His deep voice sent pleasant shivers down your spine. He was smooth and elegant in a way you were not prepared for. Especially considering his appearance, you were surprised to be treated so gently.

“Thank you. Papa Terzo,” You responded by giving him your name as well. That earned you a smile from him. You had no idea what the first words he spoke to you meant, but they didn’t sound harsh or distasteful. He gazed at you and kept your hand in his for a moment longer than necessary. This action had you blushing slightly. You were lost in his eyes.

Your moment was interrupted when Sister Hannah spoke up again. “And this is Cardinal Copia.”

The movement on the side broke you out of your daze and you looked to the other man. When your eyes found his, you noted they looked similar to Papa Emeritus the Third’s eyes. The left eye was alabaster, while the right eye was a soft emerald. He also wore black makeup around his eyes. He appeared to be a middle-aged man with sideburns and a pencil mustache above his lips. Scanning his face, you noted that his upper lip was also painted black. He wore a black tight cassock and an accompanying black biretta.

He fidgeted around when your eyes skimmed over his appearance for a moment and you gave him a smile. When you held out your hand to him to shake it, he hesitantly grabbed it and gave it a small shake.

“I am also very pleased to make your acquaintance,” The Cardinal muttered in a low voice, bowing down slightly. He could not hold eye contact while speaking to you, and his movement was a bit awkward. He looked down to his feet and when he came back up, his eyes were back on Terzo.

“Now, if you’d excuse us, our new nurse is very exhausted from the day and would like to retreat to her chambers to get some sleep before she officially starts tomorrow.” Hannah said in a sing-song voice and you two walked to the end of the corridor, vanishing behind the door of your new chambers.

“What a pretty flower. Satan must be very pleased with us, don't you think Cardinal?” Terzo rejoiced. “I just fear that our dear brothers and sisters will fake injuries now or intentionally hurt themselves to have her take care of them, sí?” He laughed.

Copia just nodded his head in response, stunned by the beauty of you. His head was going to be occupied by your gorgeous smile for a while. He could not help himself. Something about you seemed so familiar, but he could not pin it down and decided to brush it off for now since Terzo was still waiting for his answer on whether he was getting his mini fridge or not.

You and Sister Hannah entered your new quarters. The room was not outstanding in size or decoration but occupied everything you needed. In fact, you had some extras granted to you that the regular brothers and sisters did not have. First, you got your own rooms that you did not have to share with anyone. Your bed was significantly bigger than usual and you had your own bathroom.

“Oh my lord, you are such a lucky girl.” Hannah squealed right after she closed the door behind you. “You just met Papa, and oh Satan, isn’t he just wonderful?” She swooned. “You made me a little jealous there, not gonna lie to you. But let me warn you. Papa is very flirtatious. You shouldn’t let him get to you too much. Unless you are down for it, of course. Then ignore what I said.” She smiled. “He is very horny too, so I am just trying to inform you before you find out the hard way.” After a moment she realized how that sounded. “Oh, not that he would force himself on you, or whatever, no but his innuendos are very straightforward sometimes. I reckon that can be quite shocking.”

You sighed, plopping down on the bed. “Oh my God, this is all so much to process I feel like my brain is going to explode.” You were still very much in a state of shock and wonder. The whole thing was just so ridiculous. At some point, you thought it was all a dream, and when you woke up none of this would be real. But you knew better and this place just felt far too real. Not even your messed up mind could conjure such an odd scenario.

“Oh sis, I understand. I will leave you to yourself then. Have a good night's rest. I will pick you up tomorrow at 7. Your clothing should be in the wardrobe over there. And I think you’ll get by here in your chambers just fine, yeah?” She was already out the door when she stuck her head back inside. “By the way, sis, I am very glad you are here.” She gave you a soft, sincere smile and closed the door.

You decided to relax for the rest of the evening. After spending about ten more minutes on your bed contemplating everything that happened in the past few hours, you got up and started unpacking the necessary items from your bags. After all, you were not sure if this place was for you. Your friends would give you questioning looks if you told them where you worked, your parents would be mortified. You let out a laugh imagining them coming to the ministry with crucifixes and bottles of holy water to cleanse this place and rescue their sweet little child. No, you could never tell them.

You prepared everything for tomorrow and went to bed with a book to ease your mind. Tomorrow was going to be an eventful day.

If anyone would like I could offer to make a taglist so you would get notified for updates on this. Just let me know yes?

[myfavoritesstuff]

Crimson Hearts Part 2

Paring: Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Prompt: Meeting the Sturniolo’s gang wasn’t as bad as you thought. It almost made you forget why you were brought here in the first place. Almost.

Warning(s): Gore, Shooting, Profanity, Mafia type stuff, poorly written fight scene, not proofread

Note: I made some of the YouTubers from their most recent collaboration be a part of the gang. And yes, I have soft Matt. He along with some of the other members will show more of their bad, gangster side in future chapters. I also kind of rushed it, so I apologize. I will go back and fit it later.

Word count: 3,047 (I will make all my others chapters not as long as this for those who don’t want that many words in a chapter)

Part 1

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stirred, the memories of last night's encounter with the Sturniolo triplets creeping into your consciousness like a persistent fog. The images were vivid: the cold sweat on your father's brow, the imposing figures of Nick, Matt, and Chris, their presence commanding.

With a deep breath, you pushed the covers aside and rose from the bed, your mind racing with the possibilities of what the day might hold. The air was crisp, a stark contrast to the heated atmosphere of the party. You dressed quickly, the weight of the impending meeting settling in your stomach like a stone.

Stepping outside, the world seemed oblivious to the turmoil that churned beneath its surface. The neighborhood was peaceful, the only sounds were the distant laughter of children and the soft rustling of leaves. But the tranquility did nothing to ease your nerves.

The sleek black limousine was impossible to miss, idling at the curb like a silent predator. The door opened, and you were greeted by the sight of the Sturniolo triplets, their expressions unreadable. Nick's nod was curt, an unspoken invitation to enter their world. Matt's eyes flickered with a hint of curiosity, while Chris offered a reassuring grin, the edge of danger still lingering in his smile.

You took a seat, the leather cool against your skin. The interior of the limo was luxurious, a stark contrast to the ruthless reputation of its occupants. The triplets watched you, their gazes sharp and assessing. You swallowed hard, searching for words that wouldn't betray your anxiety.

"So," you began, your voice steadier than you felt, "I hear the city never sleeps because of you three."

Nick's lips twitched into a semblance of a smile, and Matt's posture relaxed ever so slightly. Chris chuckled, the sound rich and surprisingly warm.

"We do keep things... interesting," Nick replied, his voice smooth like aged whiskey. “The city has many stories. Some are bedtime tales for the innocent; others are wake-up calls for the brave.”

Matt’s gaze was unreadable, yet you could tell that he was reading your expression, almost like he was deciphering the thoughts racing through your mind. “Marriage is a strategic move,” he mused, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. “It’s not about love, it’s about power and alliances.”

Chris leaned forward, light catching the edge of his grin. “But don’t worry,” he chimed in, his tone light but laced with seriousness. “We’re not monsters. We’re humans too. We’re businessmen, and in our world, we value a good partnership.”

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, the reality of the situation settling in. This wasn’t just a marriage proposal; it was something much more. You thought of what you could say and the next words could potentially have consequences that would be yours to bear.

“I understand the stakes”, you replied, your voice trying to remain steady. “But I’m not just a pawn to be moved at will. Like you said, we’re all human here.”

The brothers exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. It was clear that this was a new development, a wrinkle in their plan they hadn’t anticipated. But it was also clear that they respected strength, and perhaps, in that moment, they saw a glimpse of their own resolve reflected in you.

The conversation flowed more easily after that, small talk bridging the gap between your two worlds. You spoke of inconsequential things—the weather, the city's nightlife, the latest technology. And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, you could almost forget who they were and the dangerous game you were all playing. Almost.

The limousine glided to a stop in front of an imposing mansion, its facade a testament to the power and wealth of the Sturniolo gang. As you stepped out, the grandeur of the residence struck you, a stark reminder of the world you were about to enter.

Inside, the atmosphere was charged, a mix of opulence and danger. The triplets led you through the halls, their steps echoing on the marble floors. You were introduced to the other members of the gang, each one a vital piece of the Sturniolo empire.

Nick gestured to a man with an intense gaze, "That's Colby Brock. He's our eyes and ears on the street. Nothing happens in this city without Colby knowing about it."

Matt nodded towards a figure leaning against the wall, "And there's Sam Golbach. He's the tech wizard. If it's digital and it's secure, Sam's the one who can crack it. He also works great with all kinds of weapons. If a weapon was created, he knows about it and will find out everything about it.

Chris's grin widened as he pointed out a man with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "Meet Jake Webber. He's the charmer, the face for our... less official dealings."

You followed their gazes as they introduced the rest. "That's Johnnie Guilbert," Nick said, "He handles our finances, making sure the money flows where it needs to."

“Tara Yummy," Matt added, "is our negotiator. She's got a way with words that can turn any deal in our favor."

"And last but not least," Chris chimed in, "is Larray. He's the life of the party, but don't let that fool you. He's as sharp as they come, especially when it comes to information gathering."

As you took in each face, a complex web of roles and responsibilities began to form in your mind. These were the people who ran the underworld, each with their own story, their own skills, and now, they were all looking at you.

The triplets watched you carefully, gauging your reaction. "Welcome to the family," they said in unison, their voices a blend of warmth and warning. It was clear that this was more than a mere introduction; it was an initiation into a world from which there was no easy escape.

After the introductions, you were led down a corridor lined with portraits of stern-looking individuals, their eyes following your every move. The triplets stopped in front of a heavy oak door, its surface carved with intricate designs that spoke of a long, storied history.

"This will be your room," Nick said, pushing the door open with a gentle nudge.

The room that greeted you was a study in contrasts. The walls were painted a deep, velvety maroon, accented with black trim that gave the space an air of sophistication and power. Heavy drapes in dark shades framed the windows, allowing slivers of light to pierce the room's natural dimness.

Despite the dark colors, the room was undeniably beautiful. A large, four-poster bed dominated the center, its ebony wood polished to a high shine and adorned with plush bedding in shades of crimson and gold. The furniture was of the same dark wood, each piece exquisitely crafted and perfectly placed to create a sense of balance and comfort.

On one wall, a fireplace crackled softly, the flames casting dancing shadows that played across the room. Above it, a painting of the city at night hung, its lights twinkling like stars in a dark sky, a constant reminder of the world that lay just beyond these walls.

The room was a sanctuary, a place of quiet strength and luxury. It was clear that every detail had been carefully considered, from the soft, thick carpet that cushioned your steps to the subtle scent of sandalwood that lingered in the air.

As you took it all in, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. This was a room that belonged to someone of importance, someone who wielded power with a quiet confidence. It was a room that spoke of the Sturniolo legacy, and now, it was yours.

The soft knock at the door pulled you from your reverie, the room's grandeur momentarily forgotten. You crossed the plush carpet and opened the door to find Matt standing there, his expression serious.

"May I come in?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The room seemed to shrink with his presence, the air charged with a new intensity.

"There are rules," he began, his voice low and steady. "Rules that are non-negotiable if you're to stay here."

You nodded, a silent signal for him to continue.

"First," he said, holding up a finger, "loyalty is paramount. You do not betray the family, not by action or word. Second, discretion is expected. What happens within these walls stays within these walls. And third," he paused, his gaze locking with yours, "you must contribute. Everyone here has a role, a purpose. You'll need to find yours."

The rules were clear, each one a pillar that upheld the Sturniolo empire. They were not just guidelines; they were the very foundation of the life you were stepping into.

"Understand this," Matt added, "we protect our own, but we also demand respect and obedience. Step out of line, and there will be consequences."

The weight of his words settled over you, a tangible reminder of the reality of your new existence. This was no longer the world of lost cats and late newspaper deliveries. This was a world where power and survival were intertwined, where every choice could mean the difference between life and death.

"Are you willing to accept these terms?" Matt asked, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation.

You took a deep breath, the gravity of the decision before you not lost. "Yes," you replied, your voice a whisper of resolve. "I understand."

Matt nodded once, a silent acknowledgment of your acceptance. "Welcome to the Sturniolo family," he said, and with those words, the next chapter of your life began.

Led by Matt, you returned to the main lounge, the heart of the mansion where the gang congregated. The room buzzed with conversation and the clinking of glasses, a stark contrast to the solemnity of the corridors. You hesitated at the threshold, the weight of countless eyes upon you.

The lounge was expansive, the ceilings high and the furnishings a blend of luxury and comfort. Plush sofas and armchairs were arranged in inviting clusters, encouraging close-knit discussions. The walls were adorned with art that hinted at the gang's reach and influence, each piece telling a story of power and conquest.

At first, you lingered on the periphery, a silent observer to the camaraderie and dynamics that played out before you. The members of the gang moved with an ease that spoke of long-established bonds, their laughter and gestures, a language you had yet to learn.

But as the minutes passed, you found yourself drawn into the fold. Colby shared a street-smart joke that eased the tension in your shoulders. Sam's tech and weapon talk was surprisingly accessible, his enthusiasm infectious. Jake's charm was disarming, and soon you were sharing stories of your own, laughter spilling from your lips more freely than you'd have expected.

Johnnie discussed business with a sharp acumen that piqued your interest, while Tara's negotiation tales were both harrowing and exhilarating. Larray's vivacity was a bright spark in the room, his humor a welcome relief from the gravity of the situation.

From the corner of your eye, you could see the triplets. They stood apart, a silent, watchful presence. Their expressions were unreadable, but there was no mistaking the intent focus with which they observed your integration into the group. It wasn't surveillance, but rather an assessment, a measure of your ability to adapt and belong.

Nick's gaze met yours across the room, a silent nod of approval. Matt's lips quirked up in what might have been a smile, and Chris raised his glass to you, a silent toast. In that moment, you felt a flicker of something like acceptance, a sense that perhaps you could find your place here after all.

The evening wore on, and the initial awkwardness faded into a sense of belonging. You were still an outsider, but now you were an outsider with a foot in the door, and the path ahead seemed a little less daunting.

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen windows, casting a warm, golden hue over the faces of the assembled gang members. You entered quietly, still adjusting to the rhythms of this new life. The chatter ceased momentarily as all eyes turned to you, but a nod from Nick and a smile from Chris were all it took for the conversations to resume.

The breakfast table was a lively scene, plates piled high with food, and the air filled with the rich aromas of coffee and cooked meals. You took your place, feeling the last remnants of sleep fade away as the energy of the room enveloped you.

After the meal, as the others dispersed to their various tasks, Matt's hand on your arm stopped you. He led you to a quiet corner of the room, his expression earnest.

"There's something I need to discuss with you," he said, his voice low. "The wedding is going to happen soon. It's in a month."

The words hit you like a wave, unexpected and overwhelming. A wedding? The concept seemed out of place in the dangerous world you'd been thrust into, yet here it was, being presented as a matter of fact.

Your heart raced, a mix of shock and an emotion you hesitated to name.

"I... I understand," you managed to say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I won't disagree."

You looked into Matt's eyes, searching for answers, for reassurance. And there, in the depths of his gaze, you saw something. It was a look that conveyed a hint of respect for the role you were about to take on.

Days had passed since your conversation with Matt and you were starting to like your new living situation. You grew close with each member in your own way, and you were starting to see what was beneath all their hardened exteriors. Tara, with her sharp wit and silver tongue, had especially grown a liking to you. She had taken you under her wing as an older sister type figure.

One afternoon, Tara decided it was time for a break and claimed that “you look like you could use some fresh air. A little shopping might do us good.” You agreed, welcoming the chance to step away from your new environment.

The streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of daily life. As you and Tara made your way through the crowds, you two laughed as she was telling you about some of the gang member’s weaknesses.

“Seriously?! Matt is afraid of ketchup?! Like he has never really tried it?” A smile formed on your face as you giggled at the news. Tara nodded while recounting the memory.

“Yeah, he seems terrified of it, and in fact–” She suddenly stopped. A serious expression taking over her features.

“What is it?” You were greatly confused but soon you saw why she had so abruptly stopped. A group of figures emerged from the shadows, their intentions clear from the malice in their eyes. Now that you realize it, you two were the only ones in the area and you started to get surrounded by the men.

Without hesitation, Tara pulled out a black and pink gun from her belt and fired it straight up in the air. A pink smoke materialized.

“Oh you think your tough shit huh? Calling the rest of the gang to come help you?” One of the men called.

“No, I just want the rest of my gang to see me beat your ass.” Tara replied with an attitude. The men did not seem to appreciate that as they all soon started charging in your direction. Tara unfazed called out to you.

“Y/n! Get down, now!” Without a moment's hesitation, you crouched down just as Tara pulled out another gun, this time black with gold designs. She fired, aiming it towards the man closest to you. The sound made you jump as you shut your eyes tightly, not wanting to see the bloody scene in front of you. Tara kept firing and all you could hear was the sound of the bullets. At one point she seemed to curse, making your eyes open. You immediately felt nauseous for all you could see was blood, dead bodies, and men still trying to put up a fight.

It seemed as though Tara ran out of bullets, but that didn’t stop her in the slightest. She put her fists up and started striking at the men around you. She was a whirlwind, her strikes precise and lethal. You would have tried to help but you didn’t know the first thing about defense or attacking someone. You assumed that if you tried to interfere, you would just get in her way.

And then, as quickly as it began, it was over. The surviving attackers retreated once they started hearing the sounds of running footsteps headed in your direction. As you thought, it was the rest of the gang. You saw Matt, Chris, and Nick leading the way.

Jake and Johnnie went to go check up on Tara while Matt, Chris and Nick made their way over to you. Colby, Sam, and Larray stayed on guard and watched for any other potential threats.

“Are you okay?” Matt questioned, worry hinted in his eyes. Chris and Nick stayed silent as they seemed to watch the interaction in front of them.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little shaken.” Nick then suddenly signaled to Matt.

“I don’t mean to rush this, but we should probably go. We caused too much attention” Chris intervenes. With that, you all head out to the limousine and make your way back to the mansion.

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

Half-Life | Chapter Four

You realized then how delicate this all still was.

Pairing: Plaga!Leon S. Kennedy/F!Chubby!Paranormal Investigator!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Angst, Sexual Tension, Masturbation, Blood, Body Horror, Animal Injury & Death

Notes: Heeeeey, guys. It's been a minute since I last posted, but here is chapter 4 (finally)! My summer has been more busy and stressful than I ever could have imagined, so I'm happy to finally be able to finish this chapter, which is the longest chapter of anything I've ever written at just over 14k words!!! I keep breaking my own personal record every time I write, it feels like lol. I also think this is some of the best writing I've ever done and I'm extremely proud of it! Not sure when chapter 5 will come out, as school is starting back up for me soon and a couple people I know irl are getting married this fall, so I'll be traveling a lot as well. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know your thoughts! (And here's a little behind-the-scenes tidbit: the painting I describe at the beginning of this chapter is actually in RE4R in the grand hall!)

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You awoke before Leon, for once.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sitting up on your air mattress and looking at his curled-up form, finally allowed to take in his appearance fully without having to sneak a glance or risk embarrassing yourself and him by getting caught staring.

You had yet to see him so at peace until this moment. He was laid atop his blankets, nearly in the fetal position, one long arm tucked under his pillow while the other was slung across his exposed midriff. His appendages were retracted again and his tail was hanging off the side of the bed, twitching slightly in his slumber. His breaths were deep and even, and his messy blond hair covered his closed eyes.

Never in your life did you think a literal monster could be so damn cute—so damn attractive in ways most humans hadn’t been to you before. Even the ones you dated. You wondered what that said about you.

As you gazed at Leon, you were reminded of the day before, a lovely warmth settling over you like that of the sun spilling in from the window above.

You could feel yourself blush as you recalled him carrying you across the bridge; how he had plucked a flower just to stick it into your hair; the fact he was willing to dance with you in the dilapidated ballroom simply because you asked; the way he played into your little game as you sat upon the throne, faces so near, you could brush your nose against his if you had just moved a little bit closer.

But then he had pulled away, leaving you breathless… and confused.

You weren’t sure why he would humor you with the flirting and the lingering glances and the gentle touches just to distance himself again—why he was holding himself back.

It was maddening, and you struggled to muster the courage to ask him about it or take matters into your own hands. Because, if you were honest with yourself, you were terrified of what it would mean if you did.

Worst case scenario, he would reject you and send you away. It would sting, but you had grown accustomed to the feeling; almost expected it by now. Besides, you were going to leave anyway, weren’t you?

Best case scenario, though? He would reciprocate and then… what? What could come of this? Would you still go home and let this remain as some passionate, short-lived fling? Would you work out how to stay and leave your entire life—friends and family—behind? Or would you come and visit him when you could manage it, living some kind of half-life split between your world and his?

Every outcome you could think of seemed to hurt, and you thought maybe it would be better to keep things as they were; tense but platonic.

However, being with him was so easy. Natural as breathing (when he wasn’t stealing your breath away, that is). Sure, there had been hiccups and misunderstandings. The both of you were stubborn and set in your ways, but you put your differences to rest so quickly. 

But god, were you different. The type of different that you thought before meeting him would never work. As a human, he was handsome. Devastatingly so. Could have been a model, had he chosen another career.

And, most notably, he could have had anyone he wanted.

You had come to love your body with all its curves and marks, but you doubted he would even look your way if you had crossed paths in another life.

You knew it wasn’t fair to yourself or to him to compare who he was to who he is now, considering how much he had gone through over the years and his transformation. However, you couldn’t help but think the attention you were getting from him came from loneliness and nothing more.

If anyone else had been just as stupid and nosy as you, he probably would have acted this way towards them in your stead.

Could you so easily be replaced?

Your chest clenched painfully at the thought and you forced yourself to look away from him, eyes bouncing around the room until they landed on the painting hung on the nearby wall.

It was a beautiful depiction of the castle—how it must have looked when it was occupied by people instead of dust and crumbling stone. The colors were vibrant, and a couple in the foreground were walking away from it, arm in arm. You admired it for a long while, feeling a sense of serenity overtake your anxious mind for a moment.

And then memories of the day prior flooded it instead, how you and Leon had spent the rest of the evening making crude wooden frames for the paintings you had “borrowed” from the castle, carefully finding the best places to hang the new pieces on his once empty walls.

Leon acted like he didn’t care, letting you decide for him, but you caught him glancing at the artwork from time to time, a gentle smile on his face at the way they brightened up his home.

You knew once you left he would be lonely again. You hoped if you could make these changes for him it might be enough to keep him content, even for just a little while. And, selfishly, you felt that if you couldn’t have him, you could at least inject remnants of yourself into his life. Maybe then he’d think of you the way you knew you’d think of him until your last breath.

Everything about it was unfair.

You heard a rustle and a quiet call of your name, your gaze meeting the half-lidded one of Leon as he sat up to look at you. He let out a yawn, his impossibly wide mouth gaping open in a way you once thought to be terrifying, those razor teeth glinting in the low light of the morning sun. Now, as he blinked the sleep from his red eyes, you found it more endearing, like the maw of a cat. Precious in all its sharp edges.

“Good morning,” you told him softly, a smile playing on your lips as if you hadn’t nearly worried your teeth through them moments ago.

“Mornin’. You been up long?” he asked as he swept his hair from his face. You wished you could do it for him, but you pushed that thought deep down instead.

“Not long. Was just looking at the painting,” you replied, half-lying as you pointed at the artwork in question.

His gaze trailed up to it, a small grin alighting his bizarrely beautiful features. “It really was a great idea, bringing them back here. Makes the place a lot less depressing.”

“I have those, occasionally,” you joked, pulling yourself to your feet. “I’m gonna start breakfast if you’re interested in something other than fish.”

With a tilt of his head, he asked, “What’re you makin’?”

You smirked as you walked up to him. “You can find out for yourself if you get dressed and meet me downstairs.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, catching you off guard by leaning in close, so tall that even sitting down he was the same height as you were standing. “So demanding, bunny.”

You scoffed. “Forgive me. Please get dressed and meet me downstairs. Better?” 

“Baby steps.”

Splaying your hand against his chest, you teasingly shoved him, “Whatever. I’ll just cook without you.” 

He grabbed your wrist, clawed fingers cool against your skin, causing a shiver to run through you. “C’mon, you’re breaking my heart here.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, pulling slightly against his hold. “Then be good and do as you’re told.”

He sighed dramatically, releasing you from his grip. “Yes, ma’am.”

You grinned triumphantly, gently tapping your finger against the tip of his nose. It caused him to scrunch up his face in a way that made you laugh, and then you turned on your heels and strolled to the door.

You glanced back at him as he stood and stretched. “Bacon and eggs, by the way.”

“Now that’s something I can’t pass up.”

“Figured.” And with that, you were on your way.

You kickstarted your morning by brushing your teeth and washing your face in the sink, then quickly got dressed so you could begin working on breakfast.

Leon was swift to join you, staying out of your way as he would be little help with his claws but keeping you company regardless. You made sure to leave his eggs runny and his bacon undercooked to abide by his more primal eating habits.

Soon enough, the two of you were at the table, sitting across from each other as was becoming the norm. It all felt so… domestic.

“Got any plans I need to know about?” he inquired after emptying his plate.

You swallowed the bite you had been chewing, glancing out of the nearby window. “It’s a nice day out. Pretty warm for autumn. Would that lake trip I mentioned yesterday be out of the question?” 

“Don’t see why we can’t. And there’s lots to see. I think you’re going to have a good time.” 

“With you? Always.”

You could have sworn a faint pink rose to his face, but he was quick to stand and place his used dishes in the sink, so you couldn’t be certain.

After a quick prep for the trip, you headed down to the lake, Leon helping you get onto the boat, which rocked violently as you stepped onto it, to your dismay. He chuckled as you grappled his shoulders to steady yourself, slowly lowering onto the bench beneath you.

“Not too keen on a swim, huh?” he teased you.

“Not fully clothed, at least,” you muttered in reply.

He simply smirked at that but didn’t respond. 

Leon smoothly directed the loud motorboat to the first location you had agreed upon back at the house, which was a small cave that held a wooden shack inside. It was such a strange little place, but you liked to hear the echo of your voices bounce off the cave walls, as well as the sound of the boat gently slapping against the dock.

The headless statue with the dark stains on it—that looked an awful lot like old blood—made you uneasy, but you could see yourself camping out at a place like this.

After that, Leon said he was taking you to what he called “chicken island”, which made you laugh. 

“Can’t imagine why they’d call it that,” you mused.

“It had chickens there if you can believe it,” was his deadpan response. 

And he didn’t lie. Although the birds were no longer present, many rusted cages full of straw nests were stacked across the small area and worn feathers littered the ground. There wasn’t much to it, as he had warned, but you felt the need to at least say you had been to such a silly place.

He then took you into another cave, pulling up to a large dock with only your flashlight as a guide. You climbed up the ladder to the deck above—a place that you had passed through to get to the lake in the first place—to sit on a crate and eat your lunch.

Time was passing rather quickly while out on the water, and you worried if you spent too much time dawdling, you’d have to come back the next day and waste precious hours you could be doing other things.

The end of your visit here was coming up sooner than you’d like, after all. 

You were halfway through your sandwich, giving the room a more intense sweep, when your eyes fell upon the elevator in the corner. You had pointed it out before, but Leon wasn’t keen on using it, as the generator keeping the thing in service had long since lost fuel. 

Apparently, there had been a shooting range with moving targets on the floor below, to your bewilderment. There was also one inside the castle and another in the mines beneath it, though Leon told you it was too dangerous to trek the old shafts. 

You glanced at the counter next to the elevator and a thought came to your mind. “Hey, Leon, you said there were moving targets in the shooting range, right?”

He looked at you quizzically but nodded, mouth full of sliced ham.

You giggled at the sight, but continued your questioning, “So if they were moving, was someone controlling them?”

He swallowed thickly before answering, “Yeah... This guy I just referred to as ‘The Merchant’. He popped up all over the village while I was trying to save Ashley. Helped me a lot by selling me supplies. He was in charge of the shooting ranges around here.”

“How did he know where you’d end up in time to set up shop? And how did he avoid getting infected with the parasite?” 

Leon clicked his tongue. “Your guess is good as mine. He was… weird… but he did me a solid, so I figured it would be best not to ask questions. Even sold me some things to live on after I turned. He never came back after that.”

“Do you wish he did?” you asked, unable to stop yourself from prying. It was a bad habit, you knew, but you couldn’t help it.

You wanted to get to know Leon in every capacity, even though leaving would only hurt worse if you did. You must've been a masochist, then. 

He sighed wearily, crossing his arms. “If I’m being honest… every day I wished someone would come back. Didn’t matter who. Used to lay awake at night and think about Claire or Ashely or Ad—” he paused at that, and you were going to ask what name he was about to say when he continued, “Anyway, I used to imagine them coming to find me. Just to say hi, I guess. To see how I was doing. But they never did. Not that they should. I told Ashley not to come back for her safety, and to not tell anyone I was alive. Don’t know why I hoped she’d break her promise.”

“Well,” you started, reaching over and wrapping your fingers around his hand, “at least I’m here.”

“Yeah, and I’m glad for it, even if it's just for a week.” He was staring down at your knuckles and you wanted nothing more than to coil your arms around him, but you refrained.

You considered him for a long moment instead, all your overthinking from earlier being tossed out of your mind as you promptly made a decision, saying, “I could always come back. Make this a yearly trip or something.”

His gaze jumped up to your own, then, shock evident in his pale features. “And why would you do that?”

You let out a huff of laughter. Was he really that clueless? Well, you weren’t about to give him the full truth—that you were utterly infatuated with him—instead replying, “Because I’m your friend, aren’t I?”

“Friend,” he repeated, voice low. Was there a hint of disappointment in his tone, or did you imagine it? “Yeah, I guess at this point, you really are. But I don’t know if it would be a good idea for you to come back.”

“Why?” You felt hurt by that, but you tried to hide it behind a nonchalant attitude, attempting to sound more curious than bitter.

“We’re wasting daylight,” he said instead of answering you, standing up from his crate. “We should keep moving.”

You stood up, too, confusion and frustration circling in your head like vultures. “Fine, but this conversation isn’t over, Leon.”

“Hm,” was all he replied, already making his way to the boat before you even finished zipping up your backpack. 

The short trip to the other side of the cave was one full of awkward silence. You didn’t want to show that you were annoyed, but it was difficult to mask it while he was giving you the cold shoulder.

You realized then how delicate this all still was. A few days together was not enough time for him to fully open up to you. You were upset, but he had a stormy history—one he wasn’t keen on sharing.

Whether it was to protect himself from the vulnerability or spare you from the weight of his past, you didn’t know. But you wanted nothing more than to assure him that he meant something to you. That he could trust you.

You kept your mouth shut.

Despite the change in attitude, Leon was still quick to help you out of the boat. It was something you appreciated, given your apparent lack of sea legs.

Your concerned thoughts were replaced with a renewed sense of awe, though, as you shone your flashlight over the cave walls and rushed forward. Leon simply followed behind you while you explored the place, as he made a habit of doing since your arrival.

You found another headless statue stained in dark brown, to your disgust, but not much else resided in the labyrinthine tunnels.

You went back to the boat, and as you were about to leave the area altogether, you pointed out another small dock nearby. “What’s over there? Can we go?”

He seemed hesitant, shoulders tensing, but he eventually nodded, pulling up alongside it.

Once on solid ground, you were swift in finding a painting on the cave wall, which was a large and very old map of the lake with what looked like a whale in the center.

“What is that?” You asked Leon, the uneasy silence from just before fading as your curiosity took root in its stead.

He grimaced as if remembering something terrible. “Del Lago. Giant fish monster in the lake. I killed it, though, so don’t worry.”

“Ah, a Spanish Nessie, then,” you teased despite your horror at such a concept. “Must have been old, if this painting is anything to go by.”

“Its body sank to the bottom of the lake pretty much as soon as I downed the thing,” he said, looking up at the depiction of the creature. “It’s almost a shame, what happened to it.”

“Why, cos you killed an ancient majestic beast?”

He turned to you with a smile. “No, cos I wasted all that meat.” 

You laughed and he chuckled in response, the awkward tension from earlier finally giving way to the easygoing banter you enjoyed so much.

“C’mon, there’s more to explore,” you urged, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along.

Near the mural was a shrine with two large hands sticking up from the cave floor, a head sitting in either stone palm.

Well, that explains the headless statues, you mused.

You moved on quickly after that, the cave giving way to a forested path. You made a face as you skirted past a sacrificial altar, gripping Leon a little tighter.

After having to crawl underneath a tiny gap in a stone formation, you made it to a fork in the path, a small building to your right, and a winding trail to your left.

“What’s over there?” you asked Leon as you pointed to the trail, leaning down to wipe the dirt from your clothes. 

He seemed to freeze before responding a little too quickly, “Not much. And that cabin just leads to another dock. We should head back to the boat.”

“Oh, c’mon, we’re already here! Might as well take a peek!” you chirped, marching onto the trail. 

Leon didn’t argue, but he was tense as he followed you up to the end of the path.

You were more than a little confused by what you found there.

“Graves?” you questioned aloud as you looked upon the two crosses made crudely of sticks, names carved into the wood. They weren’t next to each other like you’d expect, but spread apart and angled toward the center of the dead-end path. “How strange. The only other ones I’ve seen were in the church cemetery.”

“Yeah, strange,” Leon muttered behind you, sounding almost… nervous? You wondered why.

You leaned down to the cross on the left, barely able to make out the name “Luis Serra Novarro” on the wood. An old lighter was on the ground beside it. You wondered if it even worked anymore with how long it looked to be sitting there. 

You then crouched before the other cross, “Major Jack Krauser” etched messily upon the surface.

“Well, his name isn’t very local-sounding,” you joked of the latter.

Leon didn’t reply, but you were too distracted by what was dug into the ground in front of the cross to comment on it. It was a large knife with an engraving of a snake on its rusted blade.

“Wow, that’s cool,” you mused, reaching out to pull it from the dirt. It felt like a waste to leave such a well-crafted weapon just sitting there.

“Stop!” Leon barked, lunging forward and yanking your hand from where it brushed against the scales.

Shocked, you pulled away and stood up, taking a step back at the snarl on his face. “Whoa, what’s wrong? The thing booby-trapped or something?”

He sighed, his expression turning weary instead of angry. “No, just… would like to respect the dead.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Respect the dead? You piled up human corpses at the entrance to the village. Not sure how that’s exactly—” You stopped mid-sentence, realization hitting you as you took in the miserable look on Leon’s face. “You… you knew these guys, didn’t you?”

He grimaced at your words but slowly nodded in response.

“Who were they?”

Leon crossed his arms over his chest tightly, as if to hug himself, before jerking his head to the grave on the left. “Luis helped me and Ashley. He actually saved me from him, too,” he said, looking at the grave to the right. “He was killed by that very knife.”

“Why bury this guy next to your friend if he murdered him?” You were flabbergasted by this whole thing, desperate to make sense of Leon’s strange actions.

He winced at that. “He was my mentor. Trained me to be an agent in the first place. Without him, I don’t think I could have survived.”

“What caused him to change?”

Leon decided to plop onto the ground, his tail whipping in agitation along the dirt. You joined him, sitting cross-legged beside his slouched figure, waiting for him to say something.

“He was betrayed by the very country he fought to protect. His whole unit was wiped out and he was badly injured, unable to fight like he used to. He ended up going MIA and joined the cult. They infected him with the Plagas, too. I had to fight him. I had to—” he stopped to take a steadying breath, “I had to kill him. With that same blade. His blade.”

“I’m so sorry, Leon,” was all you could offer him, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently. He closed his claws into a fist and squeezed back.

“I buried Luis first,” he began. “Had to go into the mines to retrieve his body, ferry it out here. Then I went to the island on the other side of the castle to find Krauser. The whole place had collapsed in on itself, but I had hoped I could get to him. Dug in the rubble for days, but… couldn’t find a body. The knife is all I had left of him, so now it’s here.”

“I see,” you said quietly, staring down at the muddled reflection of Leon’s dirt-covered leg in the rusted blade. “Why’d you place their graves so far out of the way?”

“It’s secluded. Quiet. Peaceful,” he replied, head tilting towards the sky and closing his eyes. “Figured I would bury Wolfie here, too, when he eventually dies. Just thought it would be a good place to…”

You saw him swallow back his words.

“A good place to what?”

He sighed and shook his head before looking at you, those red eyes so hauntingly melancholy, it made your heart ache. “A good place to rest.”

The two of you sat quietly in the dirt, simply holding hands and watching the breeze ripple through the foliage surrounding you.

He’s right, you thought, comforted by the shade of trees, yet still able to make out the blue of the sky above, it is a good place to rest.

You knew Leon grieved the life he once lived, so evident in the way he carried himself—the way he spoke. But this kind of loss was news to you. You never realized just how much weight he carried.

You were determined to lighten the burden in any way you could.

“Come on,” you told him, finally standing. “We have one last stop, don’t we?”

He didn’t need your help to get to his feet, but he still took your outstretched hand, giving you a small, grateful smile when he towered over you once more. “Yeah. We do.”

Before you knew it, you were back on the motorboat, heading straight to the center of the lake for your last location.

You had seen the old, half-sunk fishing vessel from the shore, but wanted to explore it last for the hell of it. You were glad you made that decision, hoping that spending more time on the calm waters might lift Leon’s spirits.

He came to a stop at the port of the large wooden boat, gracefully exiting onto the dilapidated vessel before reaching his hand out and pulling you onto the algae-slick deck with him.

“Careful,” he warned, releasing his hold on you. “The boards are pretty damaged. Wouldn’t want you to fall through.”

“Yes, sir,” you teased, but you took your time walking around, just in case. You heard him chuckle as you shuffled slowly forward, giving him a lighthearted glare in response. 

There really wasn’t much to see of the place, only able to access the front of it. 

You leaned against the railing of the bow after a brief sweep of the area, looking out onto the blue, blue water. It was beautiful, and you could see why Leon would spend hours fishing out here beyond catching a meal or two.

You glanced over your shoulder at him, finding him leaning against the front of the cockpit, his eyes already on you. You wished you knew what he was thinking when he looked at you like that. You hid your blush by turning back around.

You placed your hands on the railing, a light giggle escaping you as a thought crossed your mind.

“What’s so funny?” he questioned, and you knew he was smiling without needing to face him.

You tapped your fingers on the wood. “You ever see the movie Titanic?”

He scoffed but didn’t answer, instead stepping closer. Before you knew what was happening, he had gently tugged your arms up, holding them in the air as he leaned down to place his chin on your shoulder. Your breath was caught in your throat by the proximity, his own tickling your cheek.

“Was this what you had in mind, bunny?” he asked you, voice low and teasing in a way that made your stomach flip. You kept your arms up as he slid his hands down to rest on your waist and you wondered if you would pass out from your inability to pull oxygen into your lungs.

You needed to get yourself together, so you forced out a nervous laugh before saying, “If only we had Celine Dion playing in the background. I think we’d be dead ringers for the remake.”

Leon laughed heartily. “I can’t imagine they’d do a remake of such a nineties classic.”

You giggled, turning slightly to meet his eye. “They remake everything these days.”

“Well, I don’t think I have what it takes to play Jack, but you’re pretty enough to go on the big screen.”

Oh. 

That compliment made heat flood your whole body, though you didn’t want him to notice it. “What are you talking about? You’re practically Leo DiCaprio two-point-oh.”

“Mm, maybe ten years ago,” he mused, pulling away from you, to your chagrin. “C’mon, we should head back to the house.”

You pouted as you turned to face him. “But I don’t want to yet!”

“Well, there’s not much left to do out here,” he replied, as if coaxing you to follow his lead.

But that wasn’t exactly your style, now was it? 

Instead, you let your hair down from its messy bun, kicked off your shoes and socks, and yanked your shirt over your head.

Leon’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as you stripped in front of him, pulling your jeans off and leaving yourself only in your underwear. You could tell he was trying not to stare, focusing solely on your face as he choked out, “What the hell are you doing?!”

Still, you saw his gaze drop to your bare skin. You felt utterly exposed, but you weren’t ashamed.

In fact, you felt good.

You felt free.

You sat on the railing of the boat, smiling wickedly at him as you flipped your legs over the edge. “I told you if I was going to have a swim, it wouldn’t be fully clothed, didn’t I?”

Before he could say anything else, you plunged into the water.

It was so cold, you locked up for a moment, your body shocked by the sudden change in temperature. You stayed under for a few seconds, willing yourself to adjust before breaching the surface.

You wiped the water from your eyes, blinking up at Leon as he hung off the bow of the boat. It looked like he was about to dive in after you, as if he was worried you wouldn’t come back up.

His concern for you warmed you right up.

“Are you serious?” he interrogated, breathing out a sigh of disbelief. “You said it was too cold to bathe out here, but you’ll take an afternoon swim?”

“Definitely too cold for a bath,” you replied, nodding sagely. “But you should still come join me!”

“Absolutely not. You’re crazy, you know that?”

You smiled, all teeth. “What was your first clue, sweetheart?”

He scoffed. “You showing up here in the first place, probably.” 

“So…” you began, “you should learn to expect the unexpected. And jump in. I know the cold doesn’t bother you, Leon.”

He sighed, staring over at the shore for a moment before turning to face you once more. “Fine.”

You whooped in victory as he stepped back from the railing, and then bit your lip as you watched him pull off his shirt, revealing his lean, taut upper body. His legs were obscured by the boat as he tore his pants from them, but you got a good look when he leapt onto the ledge of the bow. You had to crane your neck to take in all of him, grazing your eyes up his muscled form, covered only by boxer briefs.

Before you could stare for too long, he dove into the water behind you, and you covered your eyes as it splashed up in a small wave.

He quickly rose to the surface, flipping his blond hair from his face.

“See? Not so bad,” you told him, paddling closer to where he was treading.

“Guess not.”

You were about to speak again when you felt something large slither along your leg. You yelped, pulling your body away from the sensation. “Oh my god, something just touched me!” 

Leon shrugged. “Probably just a fish.”

“No, no, it was definitely a snake!” you told him, eyes staring down as if you could see into the dark water.

“It’s possible. There’re vipers in the area, I told you that before.” He seemed to be taking joy in your distress and you glared at him angrily for it.

“Leon, if that’s true, I need out RIGHT now.”

You began to swim towards the motorboat, suddenly very over this whole situation, when something touched your leg again. You screamed as it wrapped around your ankle, pulling you under the water.

You weren’t under for very long, whatever it was almost immediately releasing you. You sputtered as you pushed your head above the surface, panicking.

But then you heard Leon laughing hysterically nearby, and the realization that he was just screwing with you hit you like a brick.

“Oh, you asshole!” you yelled, wading back over to him and shoving his chest in rage.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just had to,” he told you between laughs.

“Yeah, you will be.” With that, you splashed his face with water, feeling smug that you got him before he could use his arm as a shield.

You splashed him a few more times until he lunged toward you, grabbing your arms, “Okay, we’re even now. Happy?”

He released you and you pretended to think about it for a moment, easing closer. Your faces were mere inches apart, and you wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss him. You weren’t sure how the action would even work, considering his protruding fangs, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to find out. 

He seemed to edge nearer, and you wondered if he had the same idea.

But your nerves got the better of you.

Instead, you jumped up and shoved his shoulders down, dunking him completely under the water.

It was your turn to laugh as he came back up, his wet hair covering his eyes. “Now I’d say we’re even.”

He pushed the strands from his face and shook his head, chuckling. “Yeah, I deserved that.”

Before you could say something else, the sky seemed to darken suddenly. You still had a couple hours of daylight left, so you glanced up, confused. You saw that clouds had converged over the sun, looking awfully heavy.

Something splattered against your forehead, and you wiped it off, realizing it was a raindrop. Several more began to fall on and around you, and you knew it was time to head back to shore.

You and Leon quickly got dressed as the sprinkle of rain turned into a steady shower, dampening your once-dry clothes. Still, you made the time to glance at Leon’s cute butt as he leaned down to pull up his pants, and when you turned to put on your own, you could feel his eyes on you too.

Thankfully, Leon decided to head back to the cave, the rain only coming down harder as you finally entered it. Leon moored the boat, and the two of you hurried through to the quarry. 

A flash of light streaked across the sky as you reached the church, the echoing BOOM that followed it making you jump out of your skin. You must’ve looked like a wet chihuahua with how you shook, both from the sound and the cold rain seeping down to the bone.

Leon turned to face you, his expression concerned. He got close, placing his palms against your arms. “You’re freezing. C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Despite your misery, you couldn’t help but feel warmed by his words.

Let’s get you home.

He said it like it was yours, too.

He grabbed your hand, tugging you along as you rushed back to his place, knowing it was still quite a trek.

You finally made it to the house, and you doubled over as soon as you crossed the threshold, panting heavily from practically jogging the whole way. You were shivering violently, your teeth chattering as you finally caught your breath, when you felt Leon lay his hand across your back.

“Hey, you should get changed. I’ll start a fire,” he urged, eyes soft as he looked at you.

You nodded, doing as he said, wringing your drenched clothes over the tub before hanging them on the sides of it.

Feeling slightly better, you went back into the main room, seeing that Leon had pushed the dining table over and moved the couch in front of the fireplace, where a stack of logs was piled in the hearth.

He was struggling with the matches again, so you gently took them from his hands, alighting the kindling yourself. He simply nodded at you before you sat down on the couch and reached your hands towards the slowly growing flames.

“You’re soaked,” you told him. “Go change. I’ll make dinner when we warm up.”

He smiled down at you as he stood, stroking the top of your head. You never wanted him to stop. “Be right back, then.”

You were finally losing the chill as he returned, sitting down beside you, his tail draped between you on the seat.

Another loud crash of lightning made you cry out, flinching.

“Whoa, there,” he said softly. “You okay?”

You grimaced. “Yeah, I’m not… the biggest fan of storms. I like the rain when I’m cozied up inside, but thunder and lightning… I don’t know. It freaks me out.”

“So you’re afraid of heights, snakes, and storms. Anything else I should know about?” he asked lightheartedly.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not afraid of heights, just falling off a shoddy bridge, thank you very much. And snakes only scare me when they’re venomous and I think they’re slithering around my leg.”

His tail flicked up as you stared pointedly at it, the movement incredibly cute to you. He could really be just like a cat sometimes.

“I stand corrected. Just storms, then,” he teased.

The conversation flowed to other things, but looking around, you realized with sudden concern that Leon’s dog wasn’t nearby. “Hey, where’s Wolfie? Was he upstairs?”

Leon’s brows furrowed at that, standing and glancing around the room. “No… he wasn’t. He usually doesn’t stay out when it storms.” 

“Is he okay?” you questioned.

Leon crossed his arms. “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe staying somewhere out of the rain.”

You nodded, though you worried for the poor dog’s safety.

As you promised, you made dinner—a roast, actually—and you had never seen Leon so excited by something you had cooked thus far (though he wouldn’t touch the potatoes, onions, and carrots that simmered alongside it).

As you worked on washing dishes, you saw Leon staring out of one of the windows, and you knew he was looking for Wolfie. You finished the chore, walking into the main room to stand beside him.

“He’s never been gone this long,” Leon stated with a frown.

You worried your bottom lip. “Maybe… Maybe we should go find him.”

Leon glanced at you, then, brow raised. “I’ll go find him. You should stay here.”

“No way,” you argued, already pulling on your hiking boots. “I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

“You could catch a cold, and that bear is still around. Besides, you hate the thunder and lightning, and it's only getting worse.”

“Well, I’m worried about him too. I want to help.”

He sighed as you stood upright, seeing the determination in your eyes. “Fine, but dress warm.”

You nodded vigorously. “I have a raincoat and a jacket, don’t worry.” 

You quickly ran to your luggage, throwing on your hoodie, sliding the raincoat over it, and grabbing your flashlight from your backpack.

You met Leon at the door, the two of you heading out into the dark.

You kept your arm braced above your brows to block the rain from your eyes, the hoods of your jacket and coat pulled over your head still not enough to prevent the onslaught, raking your flashlight over the ground as you and Leon called Wolfie’s name.

You didn’t know how long you were in the storm, and although the clothes on your top half helped to keep you dry and warm, your legs were getting soaked through. You pushed past the discomfort, your concern for Leon’s animal companion taking precedence.

The look of worry on his face was compelling enough to keep moving forward on its own.

You were near the church again, calling out the dog’s name as loud as you could, getting desperate to find him safe, when you heard Leon gasp beside you.

“What?” you questioned.

“This way,” was all he responded, bounding through the woods at a speed you could barely keep up with.

Leon was taking you deep into the forest, and you could focus on little else but his darting form as you followed him, afraid to be left behind in the dark.

You thought you were gaining on him when you tripped over a root, cutting your knee as you fell to the ground, hard. You were quick to pick yourself back up, sprinting after him and gritting your teeth against the pain.

You lost him, though, the realization filling you with panic. You just continued running in the direction you saw him taking off, calling after him frantically.

The thunder rumbled deafeningly from above, making you cower in fright, but you knew you had to keep going. The darkness seemed to encroach upon you, the torrent of rain pelting against your whole body hard enough to hurt.

You don’t think you had ever felt this afraid.  

To your relief, you finally caught up to Leon, but it was short-lived when you took in what was ahead of you.

Leon was crouched over, and you could hear him muttering in distress. Before him was Wolfie, laying motionless on his side, four streaks of dark red seeping out of his white fur.

You rushed forward, dropping onto your injured knee, not caring how badly it stung as you assessed the animal in front of you. He was still breathing, thankfully, and letting out quiet little whimpers. The wounds looked deep as you appraised them, wondering what could have done this to him.

As if reading your mind, Leon growled, “It was that damn bear.”

You didn’t respond as he stripped his shirt off, easily ripping it into strips. They were soaked through with rain, but it was better than nothing.

“Here buddy,” Leon reassured Wolfie as he grabbed his own tail.

“What are you doing?”

Ignoring you, he gently pricked the barbed end into the dog’s side, who yelped and writhed at the feeling before near-instantly relaxing.

“Kills the pain,” is all he offered as you looked at him in shock. He then shoved the strips of cloth into your hands. “I’m gonna lift him up and I want you to wrap these around him, okay?”

He’d only ever been this serious when protecting you from that bear two days prior, and you swallowed before nodding in response.

You began to carefully slide the first strip over one of the gashes, about to tie it off, when Leon interjected, “Tight, but not too tight.”

“Got it,” you said, fingers shaking as you followed his direction for each wound. You weren’t sure if it was the cold or the nerves but you managed it well enough.

When you were done, Leon stood. Wolfie was held in his arms, the dog’s blood smearing against his bare chest. It made your stomach twist with unease.

“I have bandages in my first-aid kit,” you told him as he began the trek back to the path, trying to keep up with his long, hurried gait.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Leon said. “We can change the bandages, but I don’t know if he’s… I don’t know if he’ll make it.”

You couldn’t reply, tears pricking your eyes at the thought.

Leon’s voice wavered as he continued, “I know he’s old. I knew I’d lose him eventually. But not like this. Not this soon…” 

You pushed back your tears, sadness giving way to conviction. “After we replace the bandages, I’m gonna take him to the vet, okay? You’ll have to carry him to my car, but I think if we’re fast, we can do this.” 

“What if he dies on the way there?” Leon asked miserably, “I don’t want to be away from him in his last moments.”

“I know it’s a risk, but we have a real chance of saving him, Leon. You told me to trust you yesterday, right? Well, now I need you to trust me.”

He seemed so conflicted but eventually nodded, his features solemn. “Okay. I’ll trust you.”

You reached over and squeezed his arm comfortingly.

God, I hope I’m right about this.

+++

It had been a long time since Leon felt this afraid.

He had lost everything once, and was forced to spend a decade trying to survive the hole that loss gouged out of him. Just a void sitting inside his chest, the edges slowly creeping out to devour what was left.

Wolfie had been there for him in ways humans never were. Even when he wasn’t this grotesque monstrosity, he would rather die than burden someone else with his innate brokenness, preferring to mask it with his need to help or his oftentimes cynical sense of humor.

The truth of the matter? He didn’t know who he was when he wasn’t useful to someone. When he wasn’t a protector. He had never felt so unmoored, going without this self-imposed purpose to drive him forward.

Wolfie had renewed that purpose a month after his transformation, when Leon was at his lowest. He limped up to him with a swollen leg after being bit by a viper, clearly recognizing him despite his mutated features. He had done all he could to nurse the poor dog back to health, and Wolfie hadn’t left his side since.

He sometimes wondered if it was fate that brought them together again—if he allowed himself to believe in something beyond the mundane—but he had renounced god and any other spiritual bullshit ages ago.

He looked down at the dog in his arms, no longer in pain due to his venom’s painkilling properties, but his breaths were still concerningly shallow. He wanted nothing more than to sprint full speed back to the house but worried the movement would only exacerbate Wolfie’s injuries.

He wasn’t completely sure he was okay with letting you take his dog from him—not wanting to miss any precious time he might have left—but he agreed that it was worth a shot to bring him to the vet clinic, even if he couldn’t join you.

He glanced over at you, your teeth gnawing into your bottom lip as you silently walked beside him, and was at least glad you were here with him in this nightmare. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to do this alone.

Eventually, you made it to the house, and he moved aside to let you open the door for him. You both rushed into the building, you grabbing your first-aid kit and a pair of scissors.

You were quick to find the proper bandages, and Leon just held Wolfie’s body out so you could cut off the bloodied strips of his shirt and re-wrap the wounds. Your hands were shaking, but you were careful and methodical, so he didn’t comment on it.

When you finished, you grabbed a blanket and a towel, laying them on the dining table so Leon could bundle the dog tightly inside to protect him from the rain. It was a bit of a walk to the hunting lodge, after all.

You moved away to wash your hands and find your car keys, but Leon could only stare down at your leg as you came back into the room. There were mud and grass stains, which he expected, though he was caught off guard by the knee of your jeans being torn, bright red trickling down your shin in a small but steady stream.

“What happened to your leg?” he questioned, unable to recall when you could have gotten the injury.

“Oh, it's nothing. I just tripped when I was chasing after you. Nearly lost you completely because of it, but I found you pretty fast,” you told him nonchalantly as you packed your bag.

He felt his stomach drop at your words, realizing that he hadn’t once looked back to check on you during his mad dash to find Wolfie. The thought that you were hurt and lost in the middle of the woods during a storm that scared you, and he just left you there, making bile rise to his throat.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I should have waited for you… I didn’t even know you weren’t behind me anymore…”

You shook your head, smiling at him, but the expression couldn’t hide the exhaustion in your eyes. “It’s okay, I promise. You were worried about Wolfie. I don’t blame you.”

“It’s not okay,” he seethed, his own self-hatred pooling into his chest. “I left you alone in a storm! In the dark! What if that bear was still around, huh? It could have killed you and I left you there, with nothing to defend yourself with!”

“Leon, I’m fine. Nothing happened beyond this little cut.” Your voice was calm and he wished he could hate it. Hate you for how you could talk him into or out of almost anything.

It had been mere days. He didn’t know you, and yet he trusted you implicitly. Trusted you with the life of his only companion.

And then, when he asked you to trust in him, he had sabotaged it in an instant.

He didn’t respond, knowing he might say something he’d regret, so he only watched as you quickly rolled up your pant leg to blot and disinfect the cut. He disliked seeing you in pain, witnessing the way your face screwed up as you used peroxide on the small wound—heard the hiss you made as it bubbled up on your broken skin.

You were wrapping one of the extra bandages over it when Leon looked out the window, the storm only hitting harder as the hours passed. “Maybe we should wait it out. You shouldn’t be driving in this.”

You sighed as you unrolled the leg of your jeans, walking over to stare into the dark with him. “Under normal circumstances, you couldn’t pay me to go out in this weather. But I don’t think we have time to waste, Leon.”

You both glanced over at Wolfie on the table, wrapped up and hopefully comfortable in the blanket. Leon had no choice in this if he didn’t want to lose his dog.

He was meant to protect him and now he was sending him off with someone most people would call a stranger.

Any quality of his that could be halfway useful in this situation, and he wasn’t even there when Wolfie was attacked. And now his only companion was bleeding out on his dining table and he could do nothing to stop it but put him in someone else’s care and hope he lived.  

Leon had all this strength, all these heightened senses. His entire body was deemed a weapon. And yet he couldn’t even save his dog.

What was the point of any of it, then?

And what would he have done if you weren’t there to help him? Watch Wolfie slowly die, helpless to prevent it?

Worse still, what if it was you who had been attacked?

He imagined your lifeless body lying in his arms, frightened eyes wide and staring off into nothing, drenched in blood that wouldn’t stop pouring out of you, and he could do absolutely. Fucking. Nothing.

“Come on, Leon. We have to go,” came your gentle voice, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. 

He only nodded in response, grabbing Wolfie and heading back out into the downpour, beyond the safety of his home.

The two of you trudged in silence through the village, the storm raging above your heads. He could practically sense your anxiety coming off of you in waves, but you were doing your best to remain stoic. He didn’t know if it was to calm yourself or him, but he appreciated the attempt.  

Finally, you made it to the hunter’s lodge, and you spoke up as soon as the door shut out the torrent. “I was wondering, how did you know where Wolfie was? Back there in the forest?”

“The storm dampened it, but I could hear him whimpering from the path. When I got close enough, I could smell the blood.”

“Right, super senses. Thank god for ‘em.”

He glanced at you sharply. “I’d rather have stopped him from getting hurt in the first place.”

“Hey, I know this sucks, but he’s alive and he’s going to stay that way if I have a say in it.”

He really took you in at that. Your face was wet, strands of your hair sticking to your forehead, but the fire in your eyes…

He had no way to know if things would work out the way you wanted, but your conviction—your unyielding, infectious hope—quelled the needling fear, if only for a moment. 

He might not believe in god, but angels must be real if you were standing beside him.

You made it to the car shortly after, Leon gently placing Wolfie into the backseat as you threw your bag into the passenger side and sat behind the wheel.

You turned the ignition, the vehicle roaring to life as Leon looked down at you, urging, “Please be careful. I might lose Wolfie, but I can’t lose you too.”

“I will be. I promise.” Before you closed the door, you glanced back up at him, asking, “What are you going to do while we’re gone?”

He clenched his clawed hands into fists, feeling the sharp edges dig into his skin as he grated out, “I’m going to kill that fucking bear.”

You looked shocked by his words but nodded in agreement. “Okay. Good luck.”

And with that, you closed the door.

Leon stepped back to let you drive off, knowing that the fate of his companion was out of his hands.

He exhaled harshly and turned on his heels, ready for the hunt.

Now this is what he was good for.

Shifting onto all fours, Leon was quick to shed his more human qualities for the sake of the kill, sprinting faster than he ever had on his legs alone. He focused solely on his senses to direct him through the downpour and to his prey, feeling his claws digging into the wet earth below.

As he had told you earlier, the storm dampened his abilities, but that wouldn’t stop him from reaching his objective.

In fact, it only made him more hellbent on completing it. 

It took him nearly an hour to find where the massive animal was lurking: a cave not far from where he had found Wolfie bleeding into the mud.

Despite its size, there was not much of a fight as Leon latched those deadly teeth of his around its throat and ripped. It barely had time to even register him launching at it before it was wheezing and choking on its own blood.

In this form, Leon was too proficient at killing. A part of him—deep, deep down—wanted to take his time tearing the beast limb from limb, listen to it roar and whine in agony before he finally put it out of its misery.

When its jilted movements eventually stilled, blood coating the cave floor and Leon from his mouth to the knees of his dirty pants, he stumbled back into the wall and closed his eyes tightly.

Vengeance. It was something he understood, but he didn’t see the point of it. Blood for blood’s sake never sat right with him. He only sought to kill out of necessity—to survive.

And yet, here he was, bloodlust finally fading as the bear’s large corpse laid before his weary gaze.

He could pretend all he wanted that this was an act of protection, a means to prevent further attacks in the future, but the sadistic glee he felt when his teeth sunk into warm flesh… there was nothing to excuse that.

This bear was simply living as it was born to do, even in its aggression.

Maybe Leon really was losing his humanity. Not a descent into a mindless killing machine, but a dissipation of self—fully aware of his own cruelty, but basking in it instead of rebuking it. 

He wasn’t sure which version scared him most.

He had to make this worth it, then. He had to alleviate this burning shame and break apart the guilt sitting heavy in his gut like a stone.

And so, with care, he carved up the carcass of the once dignified beast and devoured it, leaving only bones and fur in his wake.

It was the only form of reverence he could convey.

He dug a shallow hole in the mud beside the cave, laying the gory remains inside before covering it once more.

The storm had finally started to clear as he finished the task, the scent of petrichor not quite able to hide that of blood. 

Unsure of how long it would take for you to return with news of Wolfie’s condition, he rushed over to the hunter’s lodge to wait out the hours.

They passed slowly. Agonizingly. All he could do was curl in on himself and sit just inside the door of the old building, wet with rain and blood and mud. 

He once thought his initial transformation was the worst he had ever felt, that it was rock bottom. Before that, it had been what transpired in this village. And before that, it had been the disaster of Raccoon City.

He realized bitterly there was always further to fall.

He wasn’t sure why you were so adamant to befriend him like this. To help him. Was this pity? Was Leon some charity case for you? 

But then he thought of the way you smiled at him, the look on your face as he joined you in the cold water of the lake, the way you drifted to him like you were caught in his orbit and couldn’t fight the pull. 

The thought that maybe, just maybe, you felt the way he did… it was a jolt across his slumped form.

However, nothing could change what he was. His nature, it was a vicious one. And someday, you might not survive the animal that unfurled inside of him—through him.

Whatever happened after tonight, he knew one thing: his only escape was death.

He would simply wait out the end of your trip, selfishly wanting to wring out any joy he might find in your company, and if Wolfie survived the night, he would send him home with you to live out the rest of his days. He was certain you would take good care of him, provide for him better than Leon could ever hope.

But, he was reminded, Wolfie might not survive.

And it was Leon’s neglect that was to blame.

Useless, useless, useless, he repeated like a mantra in his head. 

He never imagined he’d have more to lose than he already did. More to ruin.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, the dawn breaking up the night. The sun’s warmth upon his skin did little to lighten his mood—as it burned more than soothed—but then he thought of the way your soft flesh felt against his and he nearly fell into a dream, eyes drifting shut.

He shot up suddenly at the sound of an approaching vehicle, though, his misery morphing into an all-consuming apprehension.

Was he prepared to grieve?

Your car finally pulled up near the lodge, and he rushed to the side of it, his heart palpitating as he stared into the backseat window.

He saw Wolfie laying there, breathing slow and steady.

He was alive.

Leon had never felt so relieved. 

He turned to face you as you opened the door, looking up at him with tired eyes.

Your expression turned to full-blown concern when you took in his appearance, reaching out to touch the blood staining his bare chest. “Are you okay?”

Leon placed his fingers over your hand, holding it close to him, the warmth of it more of a balm than the sun ever was. “I’m fine. It isn’t mine.” 

You sighed, eased by his words. “You found the bear, I take it?”

He nodded solemnly. “It won’t bother us anymore.” You didn’t reply and he looked back at Wolfie’s unconscious form once more. “How did everything go? Will he be alright?”

“It went great. He got stitches and a blood transfusion, and they kept him overnight for observation. Went ahead and got him a few shots when they said he was in the clear this morning. He took it all like a champ.” You dropped your hand, to Leon’s chagrin, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. “They told me to change his bandages every few hours and monitor for any infection. Gave me antibiotics and a few days' worth of painkillers. He should be just fine.”

“What did you tell them about the injury?” he questioned, suddenly concerned by what information you might have let slip in your distress.

“Don’t worry, I told them he got attacked while I was out camping. No specifics, I promise.” A look of realization then dawned on your features, to his confusion, before you began sifting through your bag.

You then pulled out a blue collar from its depths. It jingled as you held it up to Leon, shot tags dangling behind a bone-shaped one at the front, sporting the dog’s name and what he assumed was your number. 

“Picked this up before I took him from the clinic. Hope he’ll wear it,” you said, shrugging as you stood from the car.

A flood of emotions washed over Leon, then, namely an overwhelming sense of gratitude for what you had done for him. It went deeper than the collar in your hand, deeper than even saving his dog. 

You had faced a storm for him, soaked to the bone and afraid. You suffered being lost in darkness with an injured knee, even if it was only briefly. You drove through a torrent and stayed up all night to make sure his companion would live. You witnessed him covered in blood and filth and you reached out…

You were always reaching out.

Before he could think it through, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. He felt your plush body pressed against his hard edges—heard the way you gasped in shock. You almost immediately settled into it, though, holding him in turn despite the drying grime flaking onto your clothes.

“Thank you, for everything,” he murmured, face buried into your neck, the natural smell of you drifting to his nose. It was all at once sweet and grounding.

There was so much more he wanted to say, but this would have to suffice, the words caught in his throat.

“I’d do it all again in a heartbeat,” you whispered, your small hands sliding across his back soothingly.

The warmth of you made him ache, made his eyes burn, never wanting to let you go.

He knew he must.

The walk back to the house was a silent one, the only sounds the rainwater dripping onto the ground and the squelching of mud underfoot, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The two of you were just exhausted and still reeling from how the night had spiraled to near tragedy. 

Leon glanced down at Wolfie’s sleeping form in his arms, so drugged up on pain meds he likely wouldn’t wake for anything. He gave the dog’s head a gentle stroke, beyond relieved that, for now, it wouldn’t be the last time. 

The three of you entered Leon’s home, deciding that you would bring Wolfie’s bed and blankets downstairs, nestling them beside the fireplace to keep him comfortable and prevent him from exerting himself more than necessary once he was up and moving again. 

Once the dog was settled in, Leon could only stand and stare, worried that if he took his eyes off of him for a moment, he might die in his absence.

“I’ll make you up a bath, Leon,” you said quietly from the kitchen, already bringing a large pot to boil on the stove. “You could really use one.”

He sighed, finally dragging his gaze from Wolfie so that he could level it on you. “Don’t worry about that. I can just clean up at the lake.”

You huffed indignantly, approaching him and taking him in—in all his filthy, monstrous glory. “No way. You need a nice hot bath, and that’s that.”

“You’re stubborn as hell, you know that?” he replied, scoffing good-naturedly. In truth, the thought of you caring for him like this made his heart beat a little faster. 

“Oh, I know,” you said with a smile, one that was so sweet, he would hold on to the sight of it for the rest of his life, “but it’s what you like about me.”

He found himself chuckling for the first time since last night, always so surprised by your ability to pull him out of his misery.

“Not the only thing,” he said lowly, fingers twitching at his sides to reach out and touch you again. 

Your cheeks flushed pink at his words, but you shook your head and laughed. “Go on, sit down for a bit while I finish what I started.”

He wanted to argue—to assist you in your task—because being waited on like this was something he had never been used to. Instead, he did as he was told, plopping down next to Wolfie on the floor and petting him to pass the time. 

He had almost fallen asleep again, unable to fight his eyes from drooping closed, when you called to him, informing him his bath was ready. He stood and stretched, yawning as he met you at the entrance of the side room. 

“Here,” you told him, a pile of his clothes, a towel, and a washcloth in your arms, “knock yourself out. Well, don’t really.” 

He took them gratefully, smiling at your ridiculous comment as he thanked you and disappeared behind the corner. 

He quickly shed what was left of his tattered clothes, dropping them haphazardly onto the floor before stepping into the tub and lowering himself in the water.

It was hot, but it didn’t burn. In fact, it was rather soothing as it lapped at his skin. The tub was almost too small for him, however, his knees peeking out of the water from having to fold his long legs.

It was cramped but not completely uncomfortable. He sunk in a little further, letting out a pleased sigh. 

This was definitely better than the lake, that was for sure. 

Before he could relax fully, he caught sight of something on the side table next to him. He turned his head and instantly regretted it.

It was a makeup mirror you had brought, and it was angled in a way he could stare directly at his own reflection.

It made him flinch.

He didn’t look away, however, gritting his teeth against the image of himself he had loathed from the moment he transformed. But not only was he faced with his monstrous visage once more, he could now see the blood and dirt caked onto his skin, exposing him for what he truly was.

Something that was meant to kill.  

He fought the urge to shatter the glass, not wanting to destroy something that belonged to you, instead leaning over and turning it away.

As he laid back in the water and began scrubbing the grime from his body with the rag you had provided for him, a barrage of thoughts overtook his tired mind, all of them relating to you. 

He couldn’t bear to look at himself, yet you rarely took your eyes off of him.

He was disgusted by his own existence and the form he was forced to live in, yet you treated him like he was normal. Like he was a person. 

He quickly finished bathing, the water starting to cool, but he was in no rush to leave, allowing himself this moment of peace and to think. 

He rested his clawed hand against his chest and could still feel where your small palm had been placed there, could still feel the way your flesh gave under his tight hold when had embraced you. The warmth that radiated from your very being.

His hand lowered mindlessly as he lingered on the image of you stripping bare to him on that boat, offering him your impish little smirk and batted lashes over twinkling eyes. 

It lowered further as he thought of your lips, wondered how they’d feel against his skin—how soft they would be.

He hissed as his hand gently wrapped around the base of his cock, almost shocked to feel it was already achingly hard.

Leon couldn’t remember the last time he had touched himself like this.

In the beginning, he worried he would hurt himself, what with the small daggers that were his new fingers. Eventually, he dared to wander—carefully, of course—and soon it was one of the few things human left of him, to have this libido to relieve. But as the years passed and his body changed, he hardly had the urge.

And now here he was, fisting his cock at the thought of you. 

He held back a groan as he slid his thumb across his slit, imagining it was your tongue instead.

He could picture your pretty eyes looking up at him as you took him into your mouth, how you’d tease him with kitten licks and the gentle scrape of your teeth until he was begging you for more, how you’d pull away just to level him with that mischievous smirk you wore so well before you’d cave and take him to the hilt.

Leon gasped as he picked up the speed of his pumping fist, lifting his hips above the cooled water, trying to avoid sloshing it onto the floor with the motion. 

He then thought of your cunt, how sweet it would taste as he laved it with his tongue—mused about what precious little sounds he could pull from those plush, kissable lips of yours. He could almost feel how your fingers would card through his hair, yank it to get him closer to where you wanted him; how he’d tease you the way you did him before finally conceding, your desperation for him almost more delicious than the very essence of you that he fed upon.

He grit his teeth as he neared the edge, fighting to hold back.

Too soon. It was too soon.

He paused his movements, taking in a slow deep breath to calm his rapidly beating heart, letting the wave of pleasure that nearly crested over him fade to a lapping tide.

His mind slipped back into his fantasy, then, needing to finish what he started before he was driven mad with desire.

He imagined you underneath him now, bodies flush together, the head of his cock sliding against you—not a taunt but a preparation for what was to come.

He wondered how tight you’d be as he pushed inside, how warm and wet and inviting, squeezing his hand as he emulated the scene from his head.

How well would you take him?

Although much of his body had changed over the years—grown—what sat beneath his belt had not. This was not a concern for him, however, having been well-endowed even for a human man of his former stature. In fact, he almost seemed more… proportionate… now.

Would he be too much?

Or would you plead for him to go harder and faster? Deeper?

Leon couldn’t stop the near growl that escaped him as he imagined the way you’d cry out into the crook of his neck, his name like a breathless prayer against his skin. He could feel you wrap your legs around him, scraping your nails across his spine hard enough to draw blood. 

He was on the precipice once more, but this time he didn’t hold back.

He thought of you looking into his eyes as you came undone beneath him, wide and full of unshed tears, overwhelmed by the euphoria coursing through you. His body shuttered at the idea of your walls tightening impossibly around him, pulsing and wet.

He managed to bite back the whine that clawed up his throat as his cock twitched, his seed spurting across his chest and stomach.

He collapsed back into the tub, his mind so gloriously blank and full of fuzzy warmth as he caught his breath.

And then the realization hit him.

He had just masturbated. To you. While you were just on the other side of the wall, without even a door to fully separate the room. 

He was flooded with remorse, then, wondering if he had managed to keep quiet enough so that you wouldn’t hear or suspect his reckless sin against you.

He stilled, listening intently to any sounds in the house, his inhuman ears able to pick out the overlapping breaths of you and Wolfie over the whistling wind outside, right there in the dining room. 

He swallowed the lump of shame that formed in his throat and roughly wiped the spend from his flesh, the harsh scrape of coarse fabric a small punishment for his transgression.

As he dried himself and changed into sleepwear, he wondered how disgusted you’d be with him if you knew just what he was thinking.

Surely, you’d never look at him the same.

He wanted to blame his exhaustion from a sleepless night, but he knew deep down this was bound to happen eventually. Your very existence was a temptation to him, after all. 

He took a steadying breath before he finally turned the corner to face you, pleasantly surprised and more than a little relieved that you were fast asleep, curled up on his couch with a blanket draped across your legs.

He smiled softly as he approached you, all worry forgotten as a swell of affection replaced it.

You looked so sweet laying there, head resting upon the pillow you must have brought from upstairs and your pressed hands, your breaths puffing out a strand of hair hanging over your mouth. Leon quietly chuckled as he tucked it behind your ear and pulled the blanket up and around your shoulders to keep you warm before standing upright once more.

He knew as he gazed upon you that regardless of whether you returned his feelings or not, his own might never leave him. He would have to make his peace with that.

He sighed, closing his eyes tightly before opening them once more, deciding that was a problem for later.

He then sat beside Wolfie, checking on him briefly before laying down right there on the floor, exhaustion overtaking any real need for comfort. Not like he hadn’t done it the first night of your arrival, anyway.

As he drifted into a deep slumber…

He couldn’t help but dream of you.

+++

The night had been a long one.

You had sat in the emergency room of the vet clinic with Wolfie for hours, watching as they tried to keep him alive.

You would never get the image of his terrified eyes out of your head, looking to you for help or for comfort as people he didn’t know surrounded him while he couldn’t even move.

You didn’t let your tears escape until they told you he was stable, locking yourself in their bathroom across the hall and sobbing into your hands, the events of the night finally catching up to you.

He would live.

You weren’t sure you could forgive yourself if he didn’t. You wondered if Leon would have.

Oh, Leon, you thought worriedly, I hope you’re okay.

You wished you could get ahold of him somehow to let him know Wolfie was alive, aware of the fact that even if he owned a cell phone, the village had no service anyway. You were half tempted to drive out to see him and tell him the news, but you didn’t want to leave Wolfie alone for that long.

You then recalled the bear and Leon’s promise to kill it, hoping desperately it didn’t hurt him. You didn’t know what you’d do if you drove back just to find him bleeding out in the mud like he had found Wolfie, the thought piercing your heart like a bullet.

To calm yourself, you replayed the day in your head, focusing only on all the good parts.

You thought of how he opened up to you at his friends’ graves, how he held your hand as you sat in the dirt together. 

You thought of how he slipped his palms across your waist on the boat, how he spoke so lowly in your ear, how your faces got so close in the water. 

You thought of how he stroked your hair while you sat by the fireplace, the affection so freely given it was as if he couldn’t stop himself from touching you.

You thought about how concerned he was for you when you returned to the house after finding Wolfie, how he was upset you had gotten hurt and lost in the woods and blamed himself. 

And then you thought of what he said before you left for town:

“I might lose Wolfie, but I can’t lose you too.”

Those words were looping in your brain over and over.

You knew he was just concerned with your safety, that he’d probably feel guilty if something happened to you while you were trying to save his dog, but the way he said it… The way he looked at you…

“I can’t lose you.”

It was like he meant it.

Despite your anxiety, you managed to nap a bit on the bench outside of the observation room, asking the veterinarian to wake you when Wolfie came to.

In the morning, while he was still out cold, you took a brief stroll outside of the clinic, making your way into the neighboring pet shop to bide the time. 

As you passed the shelves of toys and supplies, your eyes caught on a large blue collar, realizing that it was about Wolfie’s size. You held it aloft as you considered buying it, thinking it was almost silly to put a collar on a half-feral dog.

But then you thought of the other outsiders that might appear in the village every so often. You worried they might dog-nap Wolfie for his friendliness or kill him for his intimidating appearance, deciding it may be worth the purchase, just in case.

Besides, Leon seemed drawn to the color blue, if the majority of his shirts and his preference regarding the castle’s art was anything to go by. It was oddly endearing imagining the scorpion man and his wolf-dog matching in such a way.

After buying it and getting an engraved name tag, you returned to the clinic, petting Wolfie and offering him soft words of encouragement as the vet gave him some much-needed shots.

The rain finally subsided as you made your way back to the village, your nerves still alight despite Wolfie’s improved condition. 

When you finally pulled up to the dirt road near the lodge, you were overjoyed to see Leon appear beside the car.

Your heart was in your throat, however, when got a good look at him, his face and still-shirtless torso covered in dirt and so much blood.

You couldn’t stop the instinctual need to touch him, reaching out and placing your hand against his stained chest. “Are you okay?”

He gently laid his clawed fingers across your knuckles, pressing your palm into his skin, as if your very being was a solace to him. “I’m fine. It isn’t mine.” 

Your relief at that was palpable, beyond overjoyed that he was perfectly safe. Though, the blood had to come from somewhere, and it wasn’t all Wolfie’s. “You found the bear, I take it?”

Leon’s eyes seemed to darken, but he nodded, replying, “It won’t bother us anymore.”

The answer was jarringly cryptic, and Leon seemed more upset to admit he killed the bear than you would have thought, considering how eager he was to do it before you left.

You shook away your thoughts as he asked you questions, the conversation turning to Wolfie’s health.

You then recalled your purchase at the pet store, pulling it out of your bag and waving it in front of Leon. “Picked this up before I took him from the clinic. Hope he’ll wear it.”

You stood from the car, ready to get back to the house and take a nice, long nap, when Leon wrapped his arms around you, to your utter shock. 

He held you close to him, the strength of it enough to feel your bodies meld together, but not enough to hurt you.

It took you a moment to register it all, short-circuiting at the feeling of him against you, but you eventually hugged him in return, shivering as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck and let his breath fan across your skin.

“Thank you. For everything.” His voice was tight in his throat and it made your heart ache to hear it. 

It was the least you could do, a part of you deep down blaming yourself for what happened to Wolfie, because you had kept Leon out longer than he wanted. What if Wolfie had only been in the woods waiting for the two of you to come back? Maybe if you had agreed to return to the house before the storm hit, none of this would have happened to begin with. 

Instead of saying that, you only replied, “I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

It was still the truth, as you would do anything to protect this half-man and his dog—willing to suffer more than just a nasty cut and a sleepless night if it meant they were safe.

Leon pulled away, to your despair, and grabbed Wolfie, the three of you heading back to the house.

As you set up Wolfie near the fireplace, you couldn’t help but notice the way Leon wouldn’t take his eyes off the sleeping dog, and although you understood it, he needed to wash the blood and grime from his body and get some much-needed rest.

If your night had been rough, you couldn’t imagine what his had been like.

He argued against you making him up a hot bath, but you wouldn’t hear it, telling him your decision was final. 

“You’re stubborn as hell, you know that?” he said in faux annoyance.  

You replied, smiling, “Oh, I know, but it’s what you like about me.”

“Not the only thing.” The words and the way he said them made a tingle run up your spine, but you were quick to shoo him off, taking a deep breath as you went about your task of filling the tub.

You changed quickly into your pajamas before sending Leon to his bath, flopping onto the couch with a quiet groan after fetching your pillow and a blanket from upstairs.

You thought that maybe you could sleep forever as you shifted, getting comfortable on the old piece of furniture. You wanted to wait for Leon, though, staring up at the ceiling in quiet cogitation.

Despite your fear that you were the reason Wolfie was out in the storm in the first place, you couldn’t understate your role in saving his life. Had you not been there, Leon wouldn’t have been able to do anything, and you could sense the distress that caused him at the realization.

You worried deeply about what might happen after you leave.

A stray tear escaped your eye and you battled the awful thought of one or both of them dying out here in this village, all alone, with no one to call for. 

Wolfie was old and this place was dangerous. And even if Leon ended up being fine physically, you knew his loneliness would eat him alive, especially with the inevitable loss of his dog an ever-looming threat.

You squeezed your eyes shut, wiping them to stop you from crying.

You thought about Leon’s smile instead. Thought of his voice and his laugh and the way he looked at you. Like you were normal. Like you were important.

You could still feel the way his arms wrapped around you, how safe you felt. How cherished.

You sighed deeply, turning over to stare at Wolfie, watching the slow rise and fall of his side as he breathed. You reached out your hand to him, gently stroking his head, his fur soft and warm.

You wondered as your eyes drooped shut and your mind began to fade to unconsciousness, your fingers slowly falling away from Wolfie’s form:

How could you leave them now?

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

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[raaorqtpbpdy]

Why Are Seers Always Cursed? (2)

Wesley Weston is a son of Apollo with the rare gift of prophecy.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week 2024, Day 3: Percy Jackson | Lake

This takes place shortly before Annabeth, Luke, and Thalia arrive at Camp Half-Blood, and while Wes is still in middle school, meaning it's set before the primary canon events of both series. You can also read it on AO3.

Chapter 2: Camp Orientation

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[No Warnings Apply]

New York City was nothing like Amity Park. If Wes thought the buildings back home were pretty tall, the skyscrapers here were gargantuan. He was half worried they'd fall over at that height, like a Jenga tower. It smelled worse than Amity Park too. Maybe it was just because of the steadily increasing heat, but the place smelled like sweat and garbage.

"Come on Wesley, no time to waste," Melvin said, ushering him onto the shuttle out of the airport.

"I told you, it's just Wes," he repeated for probably the sixth time. "So how far is this Camp Half-Blood place, anyway?"

The two of them had had the chance to talk on their flight, and Melvin had explained everything. Wes hadn't wanted to believe it at first, but after listening for a while, it started to make sense.

"You mean Apollo wasn't a stage name?" Wes had asked. "That was the real, actual Apollo? No way, that's ridiculous."

"When he sent a message to camp asking for a searcher to go get you, he said that you had inherited the gift of prophecy," Melvin had said. "Haven't you ever felt or seen things before they happened? Had dreams or visions that ended up being true?"

Wes' mind had instantly gone to how he'd known that his mother was going to meet Apollo again. But then he'd started to remember other things. That time his dad had gotten fired, and he'd used his saved-up allowance to buy a consolation cake on the way home from school, even though he couldn't have known until he got home and his dad told them about it. Somehow, he'd just known that something bad had happened and his dad would need a pick-me-up.

He'd thought about how he always somehow knew when there would be a pop-quiz at school. Even about how, when he was little, he never lost a game of Guess Who. How he hadn't been surprised when he'd learned his dad wasn't really his dad, how he'd almost been expecting the news. He'd known when Easton's college acceptance letter came in the mail, and when Kyle was going to eat it and break his arm during a skateboarding competition.

All this time, Wes had attributed it to coincidence, or lucky guesses, but... could it really be prophetic knowledge?

"I can see by your expression you know exactly what I'm talking about," Melvin had said. "But prophecy is a rare and highly coveted ability. Honestly, Apollo should have called us to pick you up years ago. You're just lucky you never made the connection before, because if you knew, they'd be able to smell it on you."

"They?"

"Monsters," Melvin had clarified. "The ones from the Greek myths, harpies, cyclopes, basilisks, all them. They're all real. A demigod with the gift of prophecy like you is in even more danger than most. I mean, any demigod is in danger of being attacked and killed by monsters, but you? You they might keep alive as a prisoner, using you for your ability, and that's arguably worse."

Wes had swallowed, suddenly a bundle of nerves.

"Don't worry, though, once we get to camp, you'll be fine," Melvin had said. "There, you'll learn how to fight and protect yourself, and you'll be protected, too."

"Right...."

Wes was jumpy as they took the shuttle to the city and then the bus to Long Island. After Melvin had explained the mist to him, he looked at everything and everyone like they might be out to get him. He'd never been so paranoid in his life. But him being a demigod explained more than just his apparent precognition. 

Back when he was in grade school, he could have sworn on his life that their neighbor's huge quote-unquote "dog" was not a normal dog. It's eyes glowed sometimes, and out of the corner of his eye it always looked to have horns, but they would disappear when he looked directly at it. It always growled at him when he passed, and one day, he took the long way home and snuck in through the back door because he somehow knew that if he took his usual route that dog was going to attack him.

The day after that, the neighbor took her dog and moved out suddenly. He never saw either of them again.

How many other monster-dogs and monster-people had he missed because he didn't know he should look for them? How many times had he narrowly avoided death because he had a gut feeling that made him take a different route home or fake sick to get out of school?

"Stop that," Melvin whispered.

"Huh?"

"It's good to be vigilant, but if you assume everyone is a monster, you'll drive yourself crazy," he clarified. "Our stop's coming up, and from there is a bit of a walk, but it's usually pretty quiet. Just try to stay calm. We're in the home stretch."

Right.

Trying to stay calm failed spectacularly. Wes spent the whole walk from the bus stop to the camp more anxious than he'd ever been. He felt like every shadow, and even the wind blowing through the trees was going to come after him. Melvin was right. It was driving him crazy.

"You know, this is going really smoothly," Melvin said after a while. "I mean, I said the walk would be quiet, but usually we searchers find demigods because they're being attacked or something. It's not often that a god actually comes by camp to tell us to pick up his kid and gives us an exact address. 

"Of course, it's not often a demigod inherits the gift of prophecy either. In fact, I think the last one was born in the 1890s, if I remember right. It's almost as rare as a child of Hephaestus being able to control fire. I guess I should have expected your case to be different—it was certainly better planned and scheduled. I would have expected more danger though."

Suddenly, Wes felt a hot feeling shoot through him. "Wait," he said stopping in his tracks. He looked around, scanning what he could see of the horizon. "We should go a different way."

"Why? Did you see something?"

"No I felt..." Wes suddenly felt silly again. There was no reason to change course because of a feeling. Then again... he did supposedly have the gift of prophecy. Maybe it wasn't just a feeling after all. "I felt like I was standing next to a bonfire for a second. I think if we keep going this way, we'll get burned."

"It could be more dangerous if we stray from the path but... who am I to argue with a seer," Melvin said. "We'll go this way."

With that, Melvin led him just past the trees that lined the road. After about thirty minutes, they heard a distant roar in the direction the road would have been, and Melvin stopped to smell the air.

"Definitely a monster," he said.

A plume of fire shot into the sky.

"A drakon, I think. It would have been bad if we'd run into it." He looked down at Wes, a little incredulously. "I'll be damned. Did you know?"

"Not exactly," Wes said. "Like I told you, I felt fire, and a strong sense that it was related to the direction we were headed. That's all."

"I guess that's all we needed," Melvin said. "Huh...." The look he fixed Wes with next was curious, almost hungry. It made the redhead squirm. "Anyway, camp's not much farther now. If the drakon's heading that way, we should warn them."

A few minutes more, and they reached the crest of a hill.

In the valley on the other side was a summer camp. Wes could see an amphitheater, a large blue farmhouse with a wraparound porch, a cluster of maybe a dozen cabins, give or take, and a little ways away a place with about a dozen long, white picnic tables. Campers ranging from about seven-or-eight to their late teens were scattered about doing an odd mix of normal camp activities and intense-looking combat training.

"Welcome to Camp Half-Blood," Melvin said brightly. "Come on, we should warn Chiron about the drakon."

Melvin led Wes down to the blue farmhouse, where he met the camp director, Mr. D, and a centaur named Chiron, who apparently was the actual camp director. Melvin quickly introduced Wes to both of them as the child of Apollo who could see the future, and then told them about the drakon they'd avoided on their way there.

"Thank you, Mr. Barkley, I'll take him from here," Chiron said, and he led Wes toward the cabins.

"Another one for cabin eleven?" A wiry-looking girl of about sixteen asked.

"Sorry, Robin, this one's been claimed by Apollo already," Chiron told her. Then he looked back at Wes. "Robin is the head counselor of the Hermes Cabin. Since Hermes is the god of travelers, that's where campers who haven't been claimed, or who were claimed by a god other than the twelve Olympians stay. We know who your godly parent is, so you'll be staying in cabin seven, the Apollo Cabin, along with the other children of Apollo.

"Apollo's head counselor, Archer, will show you around camp," he finished as he stopped in front of a cabin with the number seven hanging over the door. "Now, please excuse me, I must inform the Ares Cabin of the potential threat."

Wes waited for him to leave before knocking on the cabin door.

"If that's you, Robin, fuck off!" a voice called from inside.

"It's not!" Wes called back awkwardly.

A few seconds later, a boy about the same age as Kyle answered the door. He was about average height and build with brown skin and dark brown hair tied back into a short ponytail.

"Who're you?" he asked.

"Uh... I'm Wes Weston," Wes answered. "Chiron told me to come here."

"You're a son of Apollo?"

"I guess."

"Archer Gutierrez," he introduced. "I'm head of the Apollo Cabin, nice to meet you. Sorry about the language. Come on in."

Inside, there were bunk beds on either side with a cot in the middle of the cabin for some reason. It smelled of clean linen and dried sage. Rough wooden beams ribbed the ceiling and the white plaster walls were mostly bare, except for a few hooks, even though there were paintings and wall hangings all over the floor.

"Sorry, Robin keeps breaking in and taking everything off the walls for literally no reason," Archer explained. "We have set so many traps and stuff to stop her, but she keeps getting past them somehow. Either we're gonna have to escalate to putting in landmines like the Ares Cabin, or just stop hanging stuff on the walls altogether, because this is ridiculous. I mean it's basically harmless, but it's super annoying. Can you put that bow back up over there?"

"Are the Apollo and Hermes cabins, like, rivals or something?" Wes asked, lifting an intricately carved bow off the floor and resting it on a set of hooks Archer had pointed to.

"No, not really," he replied. "It's just Robin. I think she's still pissed that I broke up with her a couple months ago. She said she was cool with it, but she still keeps breaking into cabin seven to make a mess, so I don't know."

"Weren't you in school a couple months ago?" Wes asked. "I thought this was just a summer camp?"

"Some of us stay here year round, if we don't have anywhere else to go, or if we don't want to go," Archer answered with a shrug.

The two of them finished hanging everything back up in relative silence, broken up only by Archer's humming and Wes occasionally asking where something was supposed to go. Once they were done, Archer took him out for the grand tour. The cabins, the dining pavilion, the camp store, the forge, the amphitheater, the arts and crafts room, the archery range, the music classroom, the infirmary, the arena. 

He mostly focused on the places where Apollo campers tended to hang out, unsurprisingly. Apparently Wes would be expected to help out in the infirmary sometimes, since Apollo was the god of medicine, even though the most Wes knew about medicine came from Kyle bribing him to help patch up skateboarding injuries before their dad found out.

It seemed the camp and camp activities were pretty much completely divided based on godly parent. In the dining pavilion, they had to sit at their godly parent's table, and weren't allowed to sit at someone else's. They did camp activities in groups with other people who shared their godly parent. They weren't allowed to enter cabins that weren't their own—though obviously that didn't stop Robin. The way Archer explained it made it sound like these rules were pretty strict though.

Then Wes saw something out of the corner of his eye. "Huh?"

"What? You have a question?" Archer asked.

"No, I just thought I saw... nevermind. Must've been a trick of the light." For a moment, Wes thought he saw a large pine tree at the top of the hill. But there was obviously no pine tree there.

"Come on, I'll show you the volleyball court."

"I prefer basketball."

"I'll bet you do," Archer snorted. "Apollo cabin has pick-up games from time to time. It gets pretty intense. The record for farthest score is 165 feet from the hoop."

"Really?" Wes said. "That's amazing. That's more than a full court shot. That's almost two courts."

"Everyone knows Apollo kids have the best aim. That was two year ago, though, and no one's been able to match it yet, not even the guy who did it."

Wes stopped in his tracks. The hot feeling had returned, this time on the back of his neck. He turned around and saw the camp border directly behind him. 

"It's coming here," he said.

"Huh?"

"What do you guys do when a monster attacks?" he asked instead of clarifying.

"Ares cabin usually takes the front lines with the other cabins providing backup," Archer explained. "Apollo cabin grabs our bows and arrows and retreats to high ground to lay down cover fire."

"You should get ready to do that, then."

"Huh? Why?" he asked, cocking his head in confusion. "We can't know when a monster will attack until it does, so there's no point freaking out about it, ri..." he trailed off when he caught sight of the entire Ares cabin fully armed and armored and heading up the hill. "That's strange, usually they only send a few guards at a time to act as lookouts, but I haven't heard the lookouts say anything." 

Just as the rest of Ares Cabin reached the top of the hill, the lookouts started to shout.

"Drakon approaching!" They screamed as loud as they could.

"How did you know?" Archer asked Wes, not moving.

"Shouldn't you get your bow?"

"Right, but this is not the end of this conversation!" He started running to tell the other Apollo campers to get ready.

As Wes looked back up to the hilltop, to the Ares campers charging down at the monster, for a moment, he saw that pine tree again, stretching up toward the heavens. Then he blinked, and it was gone. It hadn't been there in the first place.

[burningthetree]

for the writing ask!

politely requesting numbers: 2, 4, 13, 21, 30, 31, 45, (i'm always looking for stuff to read) 66

i know this is so many lol i'd love to hear them all btu pick and choose ones you'd like to answer!

love you 4ever <3

Hi love! Ask and ye shall receive <3 under the cut because I ramble, I love you <3

2. A notable time a narrative / character has looked me dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing”

Either one of my long fics to be honest. When I started writing fmn, it was supposed to be a 10k one-shot and turned into a 150k monster. When I started writing s&w, it was supposed to be 50k, and we’re at 124k and I’m halfway through now. In fmn, I blame Bokuto. In s&w, I blame Kuroo and Iwaoi, because they introduced these ridiculous side-plots that were never meant to be there. And in s&w, I also blame Atsumu, because turns out that he’s more fun to write than I originally thought. They all raised their middle fingers at me and are so mean actually

4. the plot bunny I’ve been carrying for the longest? Bonus: Do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential regret?

Mmm I think that would be my high fantasy idea? I’ve had it since I was 13-ish but I don’t think I’ll ever end up writing it. I do think about why I keep ignoring it, but I think it’s just because it’s an intimidating genre, though it makes me sad that this holds me back from trying. (I did start drafting a fictional language and its grammar, but got stuck while working on my thesis.) The deep existential regret is there for sure :)

13. A writing experience that has pleasantly surprised me

I’ve been doing some original writing lately, and I have a submission for a student magazine that got accepted. I had to work together with an editor and send my draft back and forth to work on it and I was dreading it—it’s so jarring to send your writing to someone and them editing it. But it was the loveliest experience I could have ever asked for, and I am so glad I was brave and send in an idea that they ended up accepting. That being said, I also have my most recent writing experience where I’m actually working towards a deadline to have it published (and available for judgement from a jury and also available for purchase?). It’s been really scary IMO but, after writing my first three chapters, my best friend read them and gave me feedback, while my other friends encouraged me to do it. And it’s just so lovely to finally manage to be open about me being passionate about writing and having my friends be so lovely and supportive :)

21. A writer to co-write a book with and what we’d write about

Honestly my favourite author is R.F.Kuang and in my dreams, we are working on a novel together. I don’t know what we’d write about, but I think we would have a similar passion across genres as well as an affinity for linguistics, and I think we’d make a neat team. I’d also learn so much from here so that would be pretty cool overall. In terms of fanfiction writers, I’d write something with you Cat :) it’d be a Romeo and Juliet x Haikyuu crossover

30. Most inspirational quote I’ve ever read / heard that is still important to me

From R. F. Kuang’s Babel: “That’s just what translation is, I think. That’s all speaking is. Listening to the other and trying to see past your own biases to glimpse what they’re trying to say. Showing yourself to the world, and hoping someone else understands.” It’s just. Yummy.

As a teenager, this one meant a lot to me, and it still comes to mind for each time someone asks me for a quote: “Broken is not the same as unfixable.” From Marissa Meyer’s Lunar Chronicles.

45. Name of three of my favourite fanfic writers

Since you’re asking for writing recommendations, I guess I won’t name you -_- in Haikyuu, it’s CheCheCheer, daydreamer1227, eldureira. THIS IS DIFFICULT. I’m trying not to name the ones that show up in like every rec list lol

66. When I have felt the most confident in my writing

I think that is each time my friends read something I write and then they tell me their honest opinion, which is usually positive. And like, I trust my friends to be completely honest with me and tell me if something is garbage. So that is always a big confidence boost. Also, a long, long time ago when I was 10 years old, we had creative writing workshops in school, and my teacher complimented my writing and told me that I was good at it. Getting approval from him and a couple of other teachers as well as encouragement really meant a lot, and I don’t think I would have continued writing as much if I didn’t have this memory to fall back on :)

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

Hi! I’m Losty. 👋

A few things about me:

My username is a play on the line “we’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year” from Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here. Chronic illness has kept me isolated and lonely and that somehow seemed to express the feeling.

I started writing the kind of comfort and fluff I needed in my own life. I started sharing my writing in case anyone else needed some comfort too.

If you ever want to talk, feel free to send me a message or an ask.

My Writing

Taking a brief hiatus from writing fluff for Stranger Things (two years and counting on ao3!), all my completed fics are linked below. Most works are set in a post-s4 Vecna-was-defeated universe, but there are a couple experiments with different no-upside down AUs too. Still having fun!

Work(s) In Progress:

~ the college/coffeeshop au is coming, but idk when ~ if you wanna see a few snippets check the #coffee shop au tag below ~

***Check out some fun bookcovers I made for some of my fics!***

Completed Works:

📬 Since I Found You (18 chapters; 30k wc) No-UD AU. After an amicable breakup with Mike, El forges a bond with her new penpal Gareth.

🏀 Vecna Can Wait (one-shot; 5k wc) No-UD AU. Eddie postpones The Cult of Vecna, and the Hellfire Club goes to the championship game.

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 GreatMage: The Series

🪽 Next Time I Fall (24 chapters; 83k wc) The story of how El “Weirdo Girl” Hopper and Gareth “Junior Freak” Emerson went from just friends to something more.

🎶 Next Time I Fall chapter title playlist

🕸️ Lost and Found and Turned Around (7 chapters; 31k wc) In the winter of 1988, El reunites at last with her long lost sister Kali.

🐶 of monsters and milkshakes (one-shot; 2k wc) El and Gareth take a different path toward starting their family together.

🪻 With a Little Help From My Friends (84 chapters; 207k wc)

Covering two years after spring break ‘86, this collection of stories intertwines into a (long) tale of found family, love, support, overcoming challenges, forgiveness, and the power of friendship.

🪷 Father of Mine: The Series

Why Should I Cry For You (one-shot; 3k wc) Eddie’s father briefly reappears in his life. It doesn’t go well.

Bereaved (two-shot; 4k wc) Eddie, helped by his friends, deals with the death of his father.

Into the Shining Sun / Breathing (9 chapters; 21k wc) in Shining Sun, Eddie meets some estranged family he never knew he had. Breathing is a short postscript to chapter 5 of Shining Sun.

Gone Away (8 chapters; 14k wc) a love letter to uncle Wayne, as he takes little Eddie in and learns to care for him.

🌺 55 Fiction Collection

55 stories of 55 words each.

🌸 The Stone (one-shot; 1.5k wc)

Max Mayfield isn’t afraid of anything, except maybe being vulnerable.

🪴 Signed, Sealed, Delivered (one-shot; 2k wc)

A collection of letters written back and forth between Eddie and Chrissy while she’s away at school.

🍁 Darkness Before the Dawn (one-shot; 3k wc)

Hawkins may be right side up again, but Eddie is still upside down. His friends are there to help him through some of his darkest days.

🌴 Tattoos and Trash Talk (one-shot; 1k wc)

Eddie and El bond over being weirdos.

🌼 Not-so-iron Maiden (one-shot; 1k wc)

Max finally has the big brother she’s always wanted.

🌻 the shield and the shepherd (one-shot; 2k wc)

In this no-Vecna AU, Chrissy learns first to stand and then to fly.

Mini Ficlets:

🎆 one word challenge: firework (Eddie/Chrissy)

🥁 corroded coffin fest seven deadly sins event: wrath (Gareth POV)

Silly Corroded Coffin and Other Assorted Headcanons:

Use the tag below “losty headcanons” to read the collection! 😜

Commissioned Artworks:

Use the tags below “little help: artwork” - “eleverson artwork” - or “stali artwork” to see the collection!

[10holmes]

Thanks for the fanfic ask game qs, now it's your turn! :D

I hope these aren't too many qs, but I'd love to know your thoughts:

C, K, M, S, T, V, Y

Thank you :)

Yay! Thanks so much for asking! So excited to answer these questions 😍🙏🏼🎉

The full (very long - sorry!) answer to be found below the cut! 😁

C: What character do you identify with most?

Oooh that's a tricky question... I think I can't boil it down to just one character but a blend of characters? I think the characters I tend to stan and ship are a good indicator bc I usually fixate most on ships and characters that somehow speak to me or that I relate to.

For example with XueXiao, I really identify with Xiao Xingchen in the way that he is kind and helpful to others and follows this ideal of wanting to make the world a better place and leaving the mountain for that, aka a place he could stay placid and content in, to instead do something about the injustices he knows about in the "real world", even if that means facing hardships and pain and struggles.

As for Xue Yang, I really relate to him and see him as my deepest darkest side if I could throw my morality over board. I am someone who whole-heartedly proclaims "eat the rich" and means it, so if I was any more like Xue Yang in the way not to give a fuck, I'd also just kill the people that hurt me or others and go unhinged... 😅🙈 Slight difference between us being I would not kill indiscriminately and for the fun of it or for the slightest offense but really only target corrupt rich people and super capitalists and fascists that have it coming for them 🤭

K: What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

I really don't want to spoil anything, but it has to do with an alternative chapter / ending I came up with for my LiuJiu A/B/O fic. I love happy endings as much as the next fanfic reader but sometimes I just want to make myself and others hurt. And this one will hopefully make my readers scream.

Also there's a XueXiao reincarnation fic WIP I can't wait to post. It's nearly finished and I wrote it while listening to Tom Odell's "Another Love" on repeat - which should give you enough of a vibe to imagine the angst level of this fic. I'll just say this much: unrequited love 🤭👍🏼

Sorry I can't be more specific but I really don't want to spoil anything more😅🙈

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you'd like to share?

Maybe it's because I'm too young to know that phrasing or maybe it's a native speaker thing but I had to google what this meant first and hope Google got it right 😅🤣

My WIP file is massive... To give you a glimpse: Next to the ones mentioned above I've also started:

- an angsty post-canon Beefleaf fic, where SQX is haunted by a hanging ghost and made to kill herself but HX intervenes and they start their journey of reconciling, don't know if I'll ever finish it...

- a VegasPete vampire / vampire hunter AU based on a Tumblr prompt and gif-set post but I'll very likely never continue that...

- a LiuJiu AU where SJ is present during the events of SVSSS and LQQ knows SY is an imposter and now tries to bring back SJ into his former body. This has angst and hurt written into every line. Sadly it's merely all in my head...

S: Any fandom tropes you can't resist?

Enemies to Lovers always hits! It's my jam!

Also the angstier the merrier! Hit me with the feels, the pain, the hurt, the agony! Doesn't even have to have a happy ending, I'm a sucker for being emotionally destroyed and also emotionally destroying my readers (though I tend to give them a happy ending at least) 😈🤣👍🏼

And, like you, omegaverse is my guilty pleasure - the smuttier the better 😏

And speaking of guilty pleasures I also have to say monster-fuck AUs are on the menu as well... There have been some really good SongXueXiao ones, I've read. Didn't know that was something I'd ever be into - my 14 year old self would probably be appalled. But here we are 🤣🤣

Soulmate and Fated Pair AUs are something I like to dig into as well.

And I'm also really into mermaid AUs. Especially when one is human and the fic gives off The Little Mermaid vibes.

T: Any fandom tropes you can't stand?

I don't know why but any modern day AUs especially High School AUs... I just can't read it. The most I will do is mob boss / mafia or reincarnation where they slowly uncover their past, but if canon events are set in modern times/contexts I don't really like it for some reason 😅

But I'm actually quite open to a lot of fics and it's mostly not the tropes I can't stand but characterisation or writing style 😅🙈

V: If you could write the sequel/prequel to any fanfic out there (not you own) which would it be?

Bruh... What a difficult question... I haven't ever thought about writing continuations or pre-quels for existing fic as I love them the way they are and mostly just in between imagine possible canon-divergences if the characters had made different choices...

But I guess, from the top of my head, I'd like to write a sequel to "Mark of Jasmine" to give LiuJiu an alternative or reincarnation happy ending because they've really been played in that one... 🙈😅

Y: A character you want to protect?

So many. All my little blorbos and meow meows. On the top of that list - obviously - Xue Yang. But I'd also step in front of my best bois Loki and Shen Jiu to shield them. They deserve so much better 💕😭

Now thanks again for the ask and for reading this long-ass reply, it was my pleasure 🤣

[walker-extended-universe]

In Another Life, I Would've Loved Doing Laundry And Taxes With You

Chapter 1: Take My Hand, Don't You Dare Let Go

Relationship(s): Castiel/Cassie Perez, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester

Tags/Warnings: Season 7, Isekai, Universe Hopping, Canon-Typical Violence, Not Canon Compliant, Marriage, Angst, Cliffhangers, Falling in Love, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No Comfort

Summary:

Cassie has gotten really invested in a new show "Supernatural". During her latest binge watch, she wakes up in a world that appears to be the actual "Supernatural" universe- and she knows exactly where she is in the timeline. She makes the executive decision to pick up Castiel and be his new "wife" before Dean comes to pick him up to heal Sam- but she can't make herself stay behind when events actually start to unfold. How will this affect the rest of the season? How long can she rely on her memory to prepare her for the future? And what will happen when the inevitable season finale rolls around?

Written for AU-gust 2023 Prompt 28- Isekai

Taglist (if you would like to be added, let me know!): @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

------

Cassie munched on her popcorn while watching the drama unfold on the screen in front of her. She couldn’t look away for longer than it would take her to refill her bowl or go to the bathroom.

After she finished watching Hawk’s Shadow for the tenth time, she finally admitted she needed a new show to get into. After browsing through Netflix for a while and growing ever-more disappointed that all the shows that seemed interesting had only one or two seasons with major cliffhanger endings, something caught her eye.

Supernatural, a show following two brothers that hunted monsters following the unnatural death of their mother, was a show she’d heard about before but never had the time to get into. She looked at the episode count in the menu and it seemed daunting, but her research indicated it had a final finale instead of a last-ditch cliffhanger, so she decided to give it a shot. 5 episodes in and she was hooked. In the past few months, she’d binged through most of the 15 seasons.

The credits for the episode she was currently watching started to roll and Netflix had the audacity to ask her if she was still watching. A glance at her phone told her that she probably should stop for the night. But… She was almost at the season finale. It would be better to end her session on a big episode like that so she could spend the next day digesting it, right?

Yes. She was still watching.

As the previews for the next episode rolled on, Cassie felt, and did her best to ignore, the pull of sleep. Despite her best efforts, she fell asleep about halfway through the episode and the roar of the impala lulled her into a deep slumber.

Cassie woke with a start the next morning, fumbling for her phone and cursing herself for falling asleep. She was going to have to figure out where she left off and mess up her Netflix history and-

She wasn’t on her couch. Nor was she in her bed. Well, she was in a bed but she knew it wasn’t hers. In fact, this didn’t look like her apartment at all. And the phone she just pulled off the charger didn’t look like hers either. It was a slightly older model (not that she always had the latest one) and had a different, generic home screen.

Where was she? Where was her stuff? And what the hell had happened after she fell asleep last night?

—---

After a lot of poking around on the internet (did it always have this few ads?), Cassie could confidently say that she did have an identity as Cassandra Perez here in this strange world. But that was where all the similarities ended.

This Cassandra Perez lived in Colorado, for starters. Her parents were dead and she was an only child. She also worked as a dance teacher at the local community college, not in law enforcement. She’d never been to Texas and never worked with anyone named Cordell Walker, not that her partner seemed to exist in this world.

Who did exist in this world? Sam and Dean Winchester. And a certain trenchcoated “man” who went on a Word of God spree before disappearing earlier this year. Oh, and also that year was 2011, not 2023.

She may or may not have had a major panic attack after piecing all that info together.

Once she calmed down (and called off work for the next few days), she tried to get her bearings. All the information pointed to her somehow ending up in the Supernatural universe via falling asleep on her couch. If she was remembering her Supernatural timeline correctly, recent events would put her right at the beginning of the season 7 plotline. Castiel was believed to be dead and Sam was dealing with hallucinations of Lucifer and his time in Hell. Oh, and the Leviathans were on Earth and planning to turn humanity into willing livestock via a special additive in processed foods that not only made them fat and lazy (or, well, more so than average) but also killed any humans that had undesirable traits like cancer and being skinny.

Was there ever a better time to pick up a vegan diet?

But there was something else. It didn’t hit her until she attempted making breakfast the next morning (she couldn’t, because apparently TV fridges aren’t magically full of food every morning if you actually live in TV land). That something else was that Castiel wasn’t actually dead. He was going to come out of the water at some point, somewhere in Colorado, with no memory or clothing.

Yes, someone was supposed to find him. She knew that. But she also knew that she wasn’t supposed to be here. What if that changed things? What if she somehow took the place of the person who was supposed to find him (and that fireplace/sitting room did look familiar….)

She looked up the nearest rivers on her laptop, then grabbed the keys for a car she’d never driven before, and went searching. 

—----

She’d found Castiel climbing out of a river into a jogging trail near her house. She called it an act of God because, really, what were the odds that he’d be in the first place she checked? If there was anything she knew about Supernatural, it was that everything happened for a reason. She took him home, got him cleaned up, and ordered them pizza (because her fridge was still empty).

“I don’t remember anything,” Castiel said. “Not my name, where I came from, why I was naked in the river…. There’s just nothing.”

“Well, you remember how to use the bathroom so there must be something up there.” Cassie winked and set a full plate of pizza in front of him. “We’ll figure out your memory stuff later; right now you need to recover and then we need to get you some clothes,” she said, gesturing to the robe that didn’t really fit him.

He nodded and started nibbling on a pizza slice. “Thank you for doing all this. I know you don’t have any responsibility toward me.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. I just…. You need help. And I want to help you. It’s…kind of a thing I do.”

“It’s very kind of you. I may not remember much about the world but I know it would be a better place if there were more helpful people in it.”

Cassie turned around (because she needed to clean up the pizza box not because she’s blushing) and hummed. “Maybe so. Anyway, finish up eating and we’ll get you settled back into life in the real world, alright?”

She needed to tread carefully. She’d seen the show. She knew how this story ended. In a few months, Dean Winchester was going to show up and take Castiel (or, rather, Emmanuel) to the psychiatric hospital to fix Sam. Castiel would take on Sam’s hell trauma and be left a shell of himself until it was time to take on the Leviathans. Then, they would both end up in Purgatory. The story was already written. She couldn’t change it. She just needed to play her part.

She wondered if this impending sense of doom and ‘if only’ was how Sam and Dean felt when they were staring down the apocalypse.

—----

“I need a name,” he said a few days later. “I can’t remember my own name but I’m going to need one if I’m going to live in this world.”

“Well, we can get one for you.” Cassie said. “You want to just look up a baby name website or go with a basic John Smith?”

Castiel frowned. “I don’t think ‘John Smith’ is appropriate. I need a real name.”

“Okay then.” Cassie got her laptop and opened the web browser to find a baby name website. “Let’s get you a name.”

They tried a few different baby name sights but nothing really stood out to them. She noticed that the ones he liked but claimed didn’t “fit” were more biblical, so she went to her bookshelf and grabbed a bible. “Maybe we can find something for you in here,” she said, handing it to him. “Have a look. I’m going to make dinner, okay?”

The next morning, he’d found his name. Castiel.

—-------

Cassie knew she shouldn’t let herself get attached. She knew that one day, Castiel would have to go off with the Winchesters and play his part in saving the world. She knew her part in his story was only supposed to be temporary.

But, as she’d learned long ago, her heart was rarely as smart as her brain.

It was one thing to watch him on the show and think his quirky behavior was kind of endearing. It was very different to be with him in person and see every side of his person.

Sure, he wasn’t technically himself at the moment. But, even without his memories, he was still Castiel at his core. He was self-righteous with a strong moral code. He did his best, even if he fumbled. He was a bit awkward and a bit of a failure but he made up for it with his heart and enthusiasm.

It was hard for Cassie not to fall for him, if she was honest.

It’s not like there was any flirting. Even as a human with no memory of his angel self, Castiel didn’t seem to have his angel capabilities. Castiel was just existing. And yet….

Castiel would keep the house clean so Cassie didn’t have to worry about it when she came home from the dance studio. He always had dinner hot and ready for her when she was out of the shower. He packed little snacks for her to eat at work (“I know you don’t give yourself enough time for a full meal.”). He dutifully sat and watched Hawk’s Shadow with her (the fact that her favorite show existed in this universe was confusing but she wasn’t questioning it), even if he didn’t get any of the references. For the first time in a long time, Cassie felt like she was in a real relationship with someone. Who cared if that someone was an amnesiac angel from another universe?

She tried to enjoy it, even as the dread of their impending doom ticked closer with each passing day.

—-----

“We need a reason to be living together.”

Cassie looked up from the morning paper. “Do we? I mean, can’t we just say we’re roommates?”

“I don’t pay rent.”

“You’re a friend I’m letting couchsurf.”

“I don’t surf and you don’t have a couch.”

“That’s not-” Cassie sighed. “Do we really need an explanation?”

“People will have questions, surely. We need an answer for them.”

Okay, maybe he had a point. Luckily, there was an easy solution to this. “What if I was your wife?”

“My….wife?” Castiel tilted his head. “You would do that for me?”

She shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I like you and I want to help. Besides, what’s the alternative? I buy you a suitcase and you just go off on your own? That’s not right. Anyway, I’ve got the day off tomorrow so we can just go down to the courthouse and-”

“Cassie, wait.” Castiel grasped her hand. “You really don’t need to do that.”

“Maybe I don’t need to. But I want to. Besides, my abuela’s been on my ass about getting married forever; you’ll be helping me too.” And also I’m slowly falling in love with you and I’m terrified of the fact that I’m going to lose you in less than a year.

“Well, if you’re sure….”

“I am.” Cassie grabbed his hand. “Let’s go get married.”

—---

They didn’t find out his healing abilities until later. Or, rather, Castiel didn’t find out about his healing abilities until later. Cassie was just wondering when they would pop up and how he would start his traveling healer enterprise.

She was cleaning the gutters (seriously, what was the point of living in TV land if you still had to do everything yourself???) and fell off her ladder, right onto her arm. Her pained cry drew Castiel from the house and he rushed over to help her.

He helped her sit up and gently held her arm. “It feels broken.” He gave her a sympathetic look when she winced. “I-I should call a doctor….”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “Just- Sit here with me for a bit?”

“Of course.” He carefully held her broken arm, giving her a chance to catch her breath.

Then, she felt it. A cool feeling enveloped her arm and she gasped as she felt the bone knit itself back together.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Castiel asked, brow knit with concern.

“I- I think it’s fixed,” she said. “I… I think you fixed it.”

“But- That shouldn’t be possible. How did I….? I just knew I wanted your arm to be healed….”

She swallowed hard. This was it. The next part of his story. The part where he became a traveling healer so Dean could find him again. The part right before he was ripped away from her home and off into oblivion. And she had to play along. “And you healed it. You have a special gift.”

Castiel stared at his hands. “I… I have a gift. A gift of healing….” He looked back at her. “I need to share this gift with others. I- There’s so many people sick and dying, or who can’t afford medical care…. I can help.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, you can. And you should. I… We’ll figure something out about that. Together.”

As they went inside to start planning, Cassie tried to ignore the sinking feeling of regret in her gut.

—-----

She knew this day was coming eventually. She knew that a demon would show up and threaten her and Dean would show up in the nick of time. She knew that he could take Castiel away from her to heal Sam. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop it.

But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t put up a fight. “I’m going with you,” she said before Castiel could agree to go.

“Sorry, lady, I only need the healer,” Dean snapped.

“You really should stay, honey,” Castiel insisted. “You know I’ll be back in a few days.”

“No, I’m coming,” she snapped. “I’m your wife and I’m not letting you wander off with some stranger all by yourself.”

“I go off with strangers all the time,” Castiel replied, letting some irritation show.

“Not strangers that know how to kill demons!”

“Look, lady-”

“My name is Cassandra and if you call me ‘lady’ one more time, I’m gonna stab you with that magic knife of yours.”

Dean scowled at her. “Listen, Cassandra, I don’t have time to argue with you. My brother needs help and your husband is the only one that can help him.”

“And what’s the problem with me coming along then? I’m not stopping him from going, but I’m not letting him go alone.”

“Listen-”

“Sir, if I may.” Castiel stepped between them and herded Cassie into the other room. “Listen, Cassie, I understand you worry for me but this is going a bit far. Can you at least tell me why you don’t want me to go alone?”

She sighed. “I- Look, I know this is what you do. You go off for days at a time, you heal people, and then you’re home for dinner. And that’s just one of the things I love about you. But this…. This is different. He knows what demons are and he’s asking you to go heal his brother…. Do you think he’s maybe not telling us the whole truth? I just…. I worry. And I’ll feel better if I come with you. I promise I won’t get in the way, I just want to be there for you. I mean, that’s my job as your wife, right?”

Castiel nodded. “I understand. I’ll be happy to have you with me. I’ll just explain that to Dean and that I won’t come without you.”

She squeezed his hand, grateful for his understanding. “Thank you.”

—-------------

Dean was, naturally, very annoyed about having to cart her around along with Castiel but he needed his brother healed so he didn’t argue it any further. Cassie sat in the backseat of the impala (and boy wasn’t that a trip) while Dean and her husband awkwardly talked in the front seat.

She knew where they were going. She knew what would happen. She knew she couldn’t interfere (more than she already had). And she hated every second of it.

“So how’d you two meet anyway?”

Castiel answered before she could. “Cassie found me; it was like an act of God, in a way. I was naked, no memories, nothing… And she took me in. Gave me home, helped me find my purpose. I don’t know where I’d be without her.”

Dean glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “And you just did that out of the goodness of your heart?”

“I like helping people,” is all she said. 

Dean huffed. “So you’re just an altruist then? Good for you.”

Cassie glared at him but stayed quiet. If she didn’t want to get kicked out of this little traveling party, she would need to play nice.

For now.

—-------

Cassie knew they would run into demons at the convenience store. She tried hard not to look like she was looking for them. They would find her and Dean regardless.

Maybe that was why she saw the demons first. “Dean! The knife!” She held her hand out and caught it when he (thankfully) threw it at her without a question. She stabbed the first demon in the gut, ducked the second one’s punch, then stabbed it in the back. She tossed the knife back to Dean so he could handle the other two.

“Thanks,” he said, panting softly. Then he looked at her, suspicion written all over his face. “How’d you know the knife would kill them?”

“Well, number one, you killed one in front of my house. And…. There were these Supernatural books-”

“Oh god.” Dean facepalmed. “No further questions. Let’s just grab some road snacks and get out of here.”

“Planning to rob the place like a criminal? I thought you were better than that Winchester.” Meg stepped into the store.

Dean stepped in front of Cassie and pointed his knife at Meg. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Meg held up her hands, showing her angel blade. “Relax; I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m here to offer my services. You do realize that everyone in hell is looking for your boyfriend, right? You could use an extra set of eyes and hands to look after him.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Cassie stayed quiet while they argued. She knew where this was going.

—--------

They arrived at the mental hospital after a few more hours of driving. Cassie stayed with Castiel while Meg and Dean bickered over whether to tell Cas the truth.

“I’m glad you came,” Cas murmured, holding her hand. “This is all…quite overwhelming. And I’m not sure I trust either of them.”

“Told you so.” Cassie smirked and got up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I told you when we got married, didn’t I? I’m always going to look after you.” She knew she couldn’t protect him from everything, but she would be there nonetheless.

Eventually, Dean and Meg came back over to them. “Okay, look, Castiel, I know you’re a healer but we’re going to need you to knock out those demons standing guard,” Dean said.

“No,” Castiel said. “I-I can’t do that.”

“You can,” Meg said. “Just focus and use those special powers of yours so we can get in and save Sam.”

Castiel shook his head, turning to Cassie for help. “I can’t. They’re demons. How- How could I….?”

Cassie bit her lip. She knew he could. But how could she explain that to him. “I… Well, we didn’t think you could heal people either. And that is a lot of demons. I think it’s more than Dean and Meg can handle on their own, at least not without alerting any other demons that might be around. Maybe… You could at least try….”

Castiel looked between her and the demons. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Just try. We’ll be right behind you in case things go wrong.”

Castiel looked to Dean and Meg, who nodded, and then back to the demons. “...Okay. I’ll try.”

They made their way down to the hospital entrance, Castiel in front, then Dean, then Meg, and Cassie taking up the rear.

Castiel only had to put his hands on the first demon to smite him. Then, it happend.

“I remember.”

Cassie watched with bated breath as Castiel finished off the demons outside the hospital and came back over to Dean and Meg. She tried to catch his gaze but he seemed to be deliberately looking away from her. “I remember everything,” he said. “Everything I’ve done…. Where is Sam? I need to try and fix what I did to him….”

“He’s just inside. I’ll take you to him.” The group moved to head inside, but Castiel stopped Cassie right before she could step in.

“You don’t need to come in, Cassie,” he said, still not looking her in the eye.

“I do.” I need to be with you when you lose your mind. I’m not leaving you alone with Meg.

“You don’t,” Castiel insisted. “You came here to support your husband. That’s not who I am anymore.”

“I disagree.” She grabbed his hand, finally getting him to look at her. “I meant those vows. For better or for worse, right? Yeah, things are crazy right now, but I’m not running away. I’d never do that to you. I’m coming in and I’m standing with you and you’re not allowed to tell me not to.”

Castiel opened his mouth to argue with her but she kissed him instead. “I think you know me well enough to know you can’t talk me out of this,” she said with a soft chuckle when she pulled away.

Cas sighed. “Yes, I suppose I do. Come on then.”

They walked into the hospital hand in hand.

—-------

“I can take on his trauma. It’s the least I can do. It should help him function again. It won’t solve everything but… It should help.”

Cassie wanted to tell him not to. She wanted to tell him he meant too much to her for him to lose her like that. But she knew this was a mistake he had to atone for and she wouldn’t stop him from doing that. She’d just need to stay by his side and care for him, just as she had been.

She watched as Castiel touched Sam and took on the burden of the Lucifer hallucinations and other hell trauma. She winced when she saw fear enter his eyes and he pushed everyone away. She stayed there in the room after Sam and Dean left and Meg went to get “hired” at the facility. She slowly coaxed him into sitting on the bed and laying down to rest.

“I see him, Cassie,” he said quietly. “He won’t shut up….”

“It’s okay. I’m here.”

Cassie sat next to his bed and picked up the Bible that was sitting on the side table.

“What are you doing?” Meg asked, leaning against the doorway in her fresh uniform.

“He likes it,” Cassie murmured. “It’s where he got his name. Genesis is his favorite chapter.”

“That was before he got his memories-”

“He’s my husband.” Cassie glared at her. “Don’t tell me what I do or don’t know about my husband.”

Meg cocked an eyebrow but left the room. “Suit yourself.”

Cassie sighed and flipped to the chapter they’d left off on during their last reading session. “Okay, let's see…. Matthew chapter 3….”

—------

While Sam and Dean were gone, Castiel’s condition slowly improved. Cassie and Meg worked together to bring him out of the hell trauma shell. It was slow going and it was often 1 step forward, two steps back, but she wasn’t giving up. Bit by bit, they got him to sleep, then talk with Cassie, and even other patients in the facility. “They grow up so fast,” Meg joked when he successfully played a full game of checkers with a stranger.

She tried to focus on the good parts of this. She really tried hard not to think about what was coming next in the story. “I’m just glad he’s functioning,” she muttered. “I’m worried about him. About what’s next.”

“You worry too much, Cassie,” Meg said. “He’s on the mend. He’ll be up and kicking again in a few months, you’ll see.”

I don’t know if he has a few months. “You know, being a fake nurse doesn’t make you a mental health expert.

“Excuse me for trying to look on the bright side.”

“You’re excused.”

Meg chuckled. “I like you. You’re more fun than the Winchesters.”

“So are you.”

—-----------

Just like she remembered, Sam and Dean showed up to pull Castiel back into action. Just like she remembered, things went horribly and she had to pick up the pieces with Castiel. She barely even registered the appearance of Kevin and all the hubbub that came with that while she was trying to coax Cas out of his shell again.

And just like she remembered, things ended up with Castiel being called to action to track down the real Dick Roman and cut the head of the leviathan empire. She hated it, but there was nothing she could do.

“Are you sure that weapon of god is going to work?” she asked.

“We’re pretty sure,” Sam said. “We got all the ingredients- unless Crowley lies about his blood but he hates the leviathans more than we do so I doubt that- and we followed the ritual. It should work. We just need to get in and cut Dick’s head off and that should be the end of it.”

Cassie huffed. “Yeah, just go into a big building full of monsters that want you dead and hope you kill the right one. Oh, yeah, and also rescue the prophet of the lord and hope Crowley doesn’t get to him first. Easy peasy.”

Sam chuckled. “Honestly? It’s probably the easiest thing we’ve had to do in the last couple years….”

Castiel appeared next to them suddenly, holding plates of food for everyone. “I collected it myself; it should be safe.”

Cassie smiled and took her plate. “Thanks, honey. You should get some rest though, okay? You need your strength.”

“So do you.”

Dean rolled his eyes and took his food. “Get a room, you two.”

“Dean-” Sam didn’t get to finish his scolding as two angels appeared out of nowhere. 

“Where is the prophet?” asked the blonde woman. “We felt that a prophet was activated. We need to take him to the desert to learn the Word of God.”

“Prophet’s not here,” Dean said. “Leviathans have him at the moment. You’re a little late.”

“We’ve been stretched a little thin,” the blonde one said curtly. “After all, someone slashed our ranks in half.” She glared at Castiel. Cassie subtly stepped in front of him. This was not going to go well.

“Hester, I’m sorry,” Castiel said. “I made mistakes, I know. But I-”

“‘Made mistakes’???” Hester screeched. “You call that genocide a mistake?! You killed our brothers and sisters! You tried to replace our father! You worked with a demon! That’s more than a mistake!” She threw up her hand, sending Castiel flying into the wall. She was on him in an instant, punching him over and over. Her companion tried to stop her, pleading that they’d lost so many already, but nothing was working.

Cassie had stolen the angel blade from Meg’s jacket before she’d even really realized what she’d done. She run over and plunged the blade into Hester’s back and the room lit up blue with her death.

Before the other angel could react, Cassie held the blade to his throat.“Tell your other angel friends to stay the hell away from my husband,” she hissed. 

The angel disappeared without another word.

—-------

The appearance of the angels had everyone on edge, even Meg. Between that and all the news coming from Dick Roman’s headquarters, it was clear they had to get this taken care of. Cassie knew she should just let it happen and play her role on the sidelines, but she’d already interfered more than she should have. In for a penny, in for a pound, right?

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not.” It was the first thing Castiel had said for the whole conversation. “It’s far too dangerous for you.”

“I’m not some weeping damsel in distress. I’m coming with you.”

“Cas has a point,” Sam said. “I know he’s your husband and all but… You’re not exactly prepared for something like this.”

“Oh, and he is?!” Cassie snapped. “I mean, he’s my husband, but we all agree he’s certifiably insane and basically defenseless. And I’m supposed to trust that you two chucklefucks will bring him back alive?! No thank you; I can take care of him myself.”

“Cassie, that’s enough,” Castiel said firmly. “I understand that you’re worried about me but killing Dick Roman needs to take priority and I won’t be able to focus on that if I’m worried about you.”

“I can take care of myself!”

“You’re a dance teacher who read a bunch of books that happened to be accurate on the supernatural!”

I’m a Texas Ranger! she wanted to scream. I’ve killed people. And now I’ve killed demons and even an angel. I have killed for you and I will die for you and I’m not stopping that now. “I can help,” she said instead. “I mean, we still need to rescue Kevin, right? And the place will be crawling with leviathan. You need all the hands you can get!”

“Cassie, no.”

“But-”

“If I may.” Meg spoke up from her spot against the wall. “I’ve been keeping an eye on her for the past few months and I can say with absolute certainty that she is going to join your little mission whether you want her to or not. I think keeping her alive will be a lot easier if you actually know where she is, don’t you?”

Cassie had never been so grateful to have a demon around.

Castiel sighed. “Unfortunately, Meg is right about my wife’s stubbornness. Maybe it is better if she comes….”

“Cas, you can’t be serious!” Dean rounded on her. “You’re staying here or-”

“Or what?” Cassie stepped right up to him, standing as tall as she could to get in his face (a skill she’d practiced often with Walker). “You’re not taking my husband on a suicide mission without me. If you don’t take me willingly, I’ll just ride along in the trunk. Or I’ll make a demon deal and show up in the middle of it. But you’re not leaving me out of it. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Winchester?”

“He’s not your husband!”

“The hell he isn’t! We got married, we signed the paperwork, we made vows! I don’t care if he’s an angel of the lord or if he’s on the run from heaven or if he let the leviathans out and started this whole mess! I made a commitment to him and I’m seeing it through, regardless of what you say. For better or for worse, right?”

Dean rolled his eyes and turned to his brother. “Sam, tell the lady this is a bad idea and drive her home.”

“Dean…” Sam sighed. “Maybe we should take her. She seems pretty committed to it. Wouldn’t you rather know where she is than worry about where she might end up?”

Dean huffed and grumbled some more but eventually he gave in. Not that Cassie would’ve let that stop her if he kept fighting it.

Cassie grinned. “Alright then. Let’s pack up and move out; we’ve got a leviathan empire to dismantle!”

—----------

Cassie knew this moment would come. She’d tried to prepare herself for it.

But nothing could prepare her to watch the angel she loved be sent to a special kind of Hell. “Castiel!” she screamed, jumping forward and latching onto his trench coat.

A pulsing energy radiated through the room and she felt it on an atomic level.

Then, it was dark. And cold. And all of a sudden, she was in some very dark woods with Castiel and Dean Winchester. She knew exactly where she was. Purgatory.

She knew Castiel would leave. She knew why. But that knowledge didn’t make her feel any better when she realized her husband left her all alone despite all his concern for her safety earlier.

Dean’s hand wrapped around her arm. “Stick with me, Cassie. I’ll get us out of this. Somehow.”

She knew he would. Eventually. Somehow, that didn’t help her anxiety in the moment as glowing red eyes appeared in the forest around them.

[yaoi-life96]

Monsters Within

Summary: After complete radio silence from nosy Reporter and informant Freddie Lounds and a mysterious email, Detective Will Graham is sent off by his boss to investigate her disappearance. The investigation leads him to the Murkoff Corporation and their involvement in the Mount Massive Asylum, which has been shut down before being reopened to house the criminally insane. Will heads to the asylum in the hopes of finding the missing Reporter. If only he knew what monsters lie inside...

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Chapter 6

A groan escapes from his lips as the dark haired man opens his eyes. His vision blurred a moment before clearing, seeing the broken glass window and wooden wall where he was thrown through.

Will blinks at the sight to sit up, rubbing his head to look over, seeing the blood stained lobby and bodies. One body looked to have been disemboweled, head missing as well.

"This place is a slaughter house." he muttered.

Looking around, Will finds his camera to grab it, looking it over. Surprisingly, the camera didn't have a scratch. He sighs to look and find his glasses. Sadly they were broken, making Will wince.

He didn't need glasses but they acted like a barrier for his empathy. He was now without his shield.

Sighing, Will staggers to his feet, looking up to see written in blood were the words 'Proclaim his Gospel'.

"Do the patients here really see Lecter as a God, or is there something else I'm missing?" wondered Will.

Will looks down to the blood, noticing a dress shoe print near where he laid.

He then remembers the strong, warm hand. Someone had been here, and they hadn't killed him.

'I can't remember what they said or even who they were.' thought Will.

Shaking his head, Will moves to the desk to see a dead security officer, looking at the computer.

"I have to get out of here, but there's no opening mechanism here... Didn't that dying guard say something about a security room?"

Will moves beyond the desk, seeing a staircase and elevator, both looking to be made in the 1950's, and never upgraded. One lead down, making Will know its the basement while the stairs going up were gated off. The elevator was also thoroughly locked.

Looking to his right, Will sees a gate was torn off its hindges, leading down a long hall. He walks down it, walking slow when a patient appears at the end of the hall. He barges into a door, slamming it loudly behind him.

Will lets out a shaky breath to move on to see a thick steel door with security printed on it. Will looks in the window, seeing the computers were still on... And a dead security guard with Liar painted on the wall in blood.

Will tries the door but it was sealed shut. He'd need a security badge.

"Are you kidding me, I passed how many dead security guards and not one had a security badge?!" groaned Will.

"No wonder they all died."

Will leaves the security room and looks around, hoping to find the badge. He looks ahead of himself to see a gated off hallway, there looked to be a patient in a wheelchair.

He also saw an open door not too far from the gate. There should be another path in there, maybe there's even a security badge.

It's either this or the basement.

With a shudder, the dark haired man walks away to see a room full of computers. Pulling up the camera, Will navigates the room, seeing a few bodies but no badge.

He soon crosses the room to enter a room with shelves full of office supplies and files. Looking over, he sees a file out of place and grabs it.

/Murkoff Psychiatric Systems

Project Walrider

Mount Massive CO

Case number: 136

Patient Name: Hannibal Lecter

Age: 42

Date of Initiation: 2013.5.24

Status:

We began hormone treatment and placed patient in Morphogenic Engine. Our readings showed positive signs of success, the first in over 135 cases. We will continue monitoring for any updates.

Interview:

5/26 - When talking with Dr. Lecter, he remained polite and professional, not even suffering any deformities like previous subjects. However, I am unnerved as he seemed to want to talk about my own problems, mainly my feelings of failure as a man and husband. I don't know how he knew this as he's always in his cell unless taken to the engine. Will be keeping an eye on him.

6/13 - Dr. Lecter is proving to be the perfect canidate for this project, but I remain unnerved. He knows things he shouldn't, even from the higher ups. His doctor, Dr. Chilton, says it's how he is, able to get under your skin. But I'm not too sure. Is he.... In our heads?

7/03 - The engine isn't responding to us anymore, and the nanos are missing. We interrogated Dr. Lecter but he doesn't know what we're talking about, or at least claims not to know. Something is going on, and I don't feel safe near that cocky, psychotic cannibal. He's too damn polite.

7/30 - what have we done?/

Will stares in shock at the document, so Freddie was right, they were doing human experiments. But what did all this mean?

Nanos? Walrider? And what the fuck is a Morphogenic Engine?!

"What did I get dragged into?" whined Will.

July 30, wasn't that around when Freddy went missing, and a week before she sent the email. What did Murkoff do here?!

And what's worse, The Ripper was at the center of it all.

Will pockets the file and moves to the door. He peeks out to see the patient was still in the wheelchair, twitching.

Gulping a bit, Will moves closer, trying to keep away from the wheelchair. The patient just remains still, twitching here and there.

Will moves down the hall to see a barricade to groan, another one? He then looks to his left to see a closed door. He opens it to gasp, seeing three patients sitting on the furniture, staring at a blood covered TV playing static.

He enters the room but isn't acknowledged or even given a glance. No one was home.

Will is shocked to see one of the patients had stumps where his hands should be, and tumors on his face. He's stunned and looks to the other, hiding his face but his foot, one leg was swollen while the other looked to be rotting away, leaving only toe bones behind.

'Are these the deformaties the file mentioned?!' thought Will.

He quickly moves on, crawling under some boards on the other door. He's through the blockade and enters a new room.

This was a meeting room, it was pitch black minus an overly bright light in the corner. Will walks to it and sees another dead guy.

He rolls his eyes a bit to then see something on his chest. It was the security badge!

"Finally a dead body that has some use." said Will, taking the badge.

He pockets it and heads back out the room, now he can get out of here!

Will passes back through the dead TV room and down the hall. He passes the wheelchair guy agan, only for him to throw himself at Will.

He goes down with a shout of surprise as he lays on the ground, the patient above him, strangling him.

"Please, you have to help me, make it stop, make it clean!" yelled the man.

He pulls at his hands and gives a swift kick to the patient's stomach, knocking him off. Will gasps for air as the patient cries, curling into a tight ball.

The dark haired man looks at the patient, who looked like a rotting, withering corpse. What did Murkoff do to them?!

Will walks closer to the patient, being pulled in.

"I wanted help, I just wanted help. I was touched, I was taken, I can never be clean. They promised to help, they said I could be saved. But they lied. I am beyond salvation, I am a corpse of filth. I am my uncle's creation." empathized Will.

The dark haired man shakes his head, feeling a headache forming. He looks back to see the patient looking at him, his gaze solely on him. It hits Will he was talking out loud again.

"You understand?" he lisped.

Feeling merciful, Will nods.

" I understand."

The patient cries and curls back up, sobbing as he repeatedly cries 'thank you' and 'he heard me'.

Will walks away, feeling heavy with sorrow. Not all the patients here are criminals, they're innocent people looking for help and never got it. They only got more pain.

He reaches the security room and uses the badge, getting the door to open. Shutting it behind him, Will moves to the computer to sit, typing away. He has to get out.

Security doors reached, Will waits as the system loads the request. As he does, he looks to see the security cameras.

He can see his truck from here. And the hallway with the crying patient. As Will watches the cameras, he freezes.

On this camera, stood a tall man in a three piece suit, light hair brushed to the side. He recognizes the man from photos he's seen in the media.

The Chesapeake Ripper: Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

He was standing before a lever to suddenly look up to the camera, making Will flinch. Did he know he was watching?

Hannibal gives a smile to the camera before reaching over to grab the lever. He pulls the switch and everything goes dark.

[monstrouslyobsessed]

some super quick ask answering!! you know the drill.

tw: sex-ual implications, links to n'sfw works, and references to gore

Oh, may I give a few recs? Not exactly the yandere ones, but monster ones – Nemu is a treasure, really! I loved monster design in Lustful Kitty Cat and Tanuki's Lover is rlly sweet xD If talking about more yandere side, A Gently Sea Monster and a Lonely Girl r kinda nice, but I'm not a fan of artstyle.

Hope u didn't mind it, have a nice day!

(here's links on that recs, pls ignore if this is too much x"D)

Few of Nemu works: Lustful kitty cat--- bato.to/series/101308/lustful-little-kitty-cat Kissing is a no-no--- bato.to/series/101223/kissing-is-a-no-no Love Marking(sequel to kissing is a no no)--- bato.to/series/105109/love-marking Pure wet love--- bato.to/series/98787/pure-wet-love Tanuki's Lover--- bato.to/series/105054/tanuki-s-lover-official --- A Gently Sea Monster and a Lonely Girl --- https://comiko.net/chapter/2044214

Again, have a nice day! —anonymous

ive read all of those!! good taste, nonnie <3 especially since ive lost couple links and i couldn’t find them again. tysm!!

note to the curious: all of these are not safe for work!! and a couple may contain noncon. proceed on your own discrete.

Lol don’t apologize, I knew it was gonna be fucked when I read the tags I just didn’t realize ppl were making hentai into psychological warfare nowadays haha —anonymous

yeah (good written) horror pron (as in with legit pron) would do that to ya, theyre not that common though, which is unfortunate as it’s a niche thing i wouldve loved to see more of. pretty rare to find a good / decent story with both horror and pron, more so with the character leads surviving in the end. you’ll find more of these in animation, but in the live action ones (which…i don’t usually browse for, tbh), it’s a huge hit or miss with mostly on the miss since what ive seen is literally just pron on the horror setting and that is it. :\

i do try and contribute to that niche however i can tho lol

Any thoughts on the upcoming FF7 Rebirth game? —anonymous

im broke and i don’t have ps5 :c but also, gimme my vinny boi. where is he.

I think your re-interpretation of the Krasue was cool. I don't see why it would be offensive. But I wonder, when reader saw him without his scarf, he ripped his torso out of the rest of his body? I didn't really understand. —anonymous

sorry nonnie! i tried to keep the story short so ive left out some details (my bad) and ive sorta kept that vague for the readers personal interpretation. i actually kinda imagined several ways the darling couldve caught him changing

i also mentioned that the neighbor also wears long sleeves and gloves, ya? so he was probably all ‘gross’ under his neck thus why he had to wear a scarf. the reader walked in on him ‘naked’.

i also paralleled the scarf to another less commonly known story, The Woman With the Ribbon Around Her Neck, in which if the ribbon is removed, the woman basically falls apart. you can assume that the scarf could potentially do the same, getting it removed would have the neighbor ‘falling’ apart, so to say. the reader walked on him ‘falling’ apart the seconds after he’d discarded his scarf to let his ‘skin’ breathe or whatever.

another way is that, he was hiding the scars you'd have commonly seen with the dead who’d undergone the autopsy, but the stitches couldn’t keep him ‘together’ well enough so he’d have to wear a scarf and everything else to hide the fact that he was basically a walking corpse slash a monster possessing a human skin. the reader walked on him and caught the sight of his abnormal stitches and the neighbor probably started overreacting upon seeing his darling and tore himself out of his body or something. idk.

those are just several possibilities though (i…actually liked them all and i couldn’t decide on which to implement), but all revolving around the fact that the neighbor obviously never wanted to show any bit of naked skin but his face for good reasons + the reader being oblivious / a bit pushy about it.

i actually tried to have the story to sound a little like a common myth to teach a lesson about being too curious / too trusting but idk if that came cross that clearly.

hope that explained some??

and ig im being a bit of worrywart. i never wanted to offend anyone over their cultural values, as their culture is an important part of who they are.

slowly chipping away at my inktober thing. no promises though, since its giving me a bit of trouble and having debates if its too long or not lol

also, yep, im shadowbanned. i'll be posting a bit more about that tonight. gonna try and appeal. sighs.

as always, my inbox is always open for whatever~!

[i-am-beckyu]

MORE ASKS YOU SAY???? i can do that >:)

2, do you read/reread your own fics?

5, what's a fic idea you've had but will never write?

8, what project(s) are you currently working on?

11, do you have specific playlists for writing fics?

14, if you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

16, at what point in the process do you come up with titles?

23, how do you choose where to end a chapter?

27, is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? why?

30, what's your favorite word?

THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!! QWQ I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BRICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

2, do you read/reread your own fics?

Sometimes. Mostly Jornos to get back into it again but its rare. And when I do, I realise that they're waaaaaaay better than I thought lol. Treat spiders the way you want to be treated was actually a surprise to me. I didn't think it was very good but was pleasantly surprised.

5, what's a fic idea you've had but will never write?

Okay. So this is kind of a fic idea for a fic that's not mine.

It's actually this idea for awesome-slime-lover we're family au where Tommy is a borrower adopted by royal sbi that don't really want him. And they have actually written a part 2 but I had this idea where it could time skip and basically sbi have come to accept tinies finally, unknowingly though because they take all their hate out on Tommy. And Tommy just tries to push through and be the perfect child, despite knowing he'll never be accepted. And basically something happens were sbi are called away and Tommy manages to be put in charge of the harvest, which has been terrible for years and actually improves it, yeilding the best crops in decades. Of course when sbi return they don't know it was tommy and wanna know who did such an amazing job, and when Tommy tries to tell them, they basically laugh in his face and ya know, put him down etc etc. And it continues on with guilty sbi, tommy getting kidnapped by the enemy as a revenge act or something and sbi saving him. I have literally imagined full blown scenes in my head but will never write it purely because its not my fic

8, what project(s) are you currently working on?

Mood board for the fic I'm working on here <3 I'll let it do the talikng ^v^

11, do you have specific playlists for writing fics?

Yes and no. I have a general playlist for writing which is my playlist for like everything, but when I'm writing something with a certain mood, I look up random playlists for that mood. (your serenity playlist has been played whilst writing jornos a many a times lol)

14, if you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

OooO thats a hard one. Hmmmmmmm Either My monster to slay or that fic I haven't posted yet (the very first one I started writing). I think either of those would be really cool to see as a movie!

16, at what point in the process do you come up with titles?

already answered this one <3

23, how do you choose where to end a chapter?

Mmmmm I kinda just look at how long the chapter is, where a scene is and where the next scene starts and usually have a scene change a signal to the end of a chapter with a heavy hitting line. I love it when the last line hits hard. Sticks in the mind better :3

27, is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? why?

Probably that first fic. It's the first fic I tried writing after 5 years of no writing so I feel I've improved a lot since getting back into it, and I really really love it! Yet I don't wanna change it if I have to ya know? It's kind of my baby now lol.

30, what's your favorite word?

Meraki. It's a word I actually thought I'd made up as a kid but as google told me it actually means this:

It has since become my favourite word <3

THANK YOU THANK YOU BRICKKKKKKKKKK! Really means a lot!!! <3

Ask game here :3

[fnf-beyond]

While I prepare to drop the first chapter thingie for the side stories, here’s a few tidbits of info for the fic (things that I don’t really ever mention but are canon, ideas I had that would never make it into the final vision, song associations, etc.).

1) This one I think is pretty well known, but Soul and C are cat-coded, Soul being orange flavored and C being void flavored. They both can and will knock shit over in the mindscape and real life to either get attention, or if they’re bored, or just out of spite. Deterring them with a spray bottle is a good idea, but the void flavored one will try to kill you in your sleep if you get more than a few drops of water on him (he hates water).

2) Whenever C starts arguing with someone else that’s not Soul, Soul will discreetly summon his guitar (if it’s not already out) and start- very quietly- playing Megalovania. As the argument progresses without anyone catching on to what he’s playing, Megalovania will start increasing in volume until someone notices and cusses him out for it (usually Blue is the first one to notice it, but he thinks it’s funny so doesn’t say anything. Sebastian is usually the one to cuss Soul out for it. C has no idea what Megalovania is and just cusses Soul out for distracting him and being annoying.)

3) playlist for song associations of the goobers :3

List of who gets what song(s):

Monster: Nightmare, Viper, Wolves

C: Mirror

CBF: Listen to Me

Soul: Entertaining

Glitch: Villain

Possessed Blue(all four goobers in charge at once): Reign

[redacted character]: The Void, Far Too Long, Bad Omens

TraumaTrio: Boom (idk it just felt like them when I first heard it)

Glitch & CBF: Butcher Vanity

4) I originally was actually going to give Blue NES(Non-Epileptic Seizures).

From what I read online, they can be triggered by stress, among other things. And considering the entire fic is just “how much trauma and stress can this dumbass handle” in a nutshell, I figured it’d be a bit too much to attempt to depict him having fits. That, PLUS I’ve never written seizures before, or know how to, so I ultimately decided against it.

However, in my personal little headcanon, he does still get NES from time to time if he’s especially stressed out, like loosing a loved one, having a severe mental breakdown/meltdown, dealing with his mental shenanigans a bit too long/aggressively (the TroubleTrio), etc. but in the main fic itself, he will never be depicted having a seizure.

Maybe one day in a one-shot I can attempt to write him having a fit, but for now, that’s not gonna happen.

[slapplebees]

This Is Me Throwing Up: A Shitfucked Dissertation on Matt Demon, UPS, and the Detrimental Effects of What I Now Call Canon

I am on Mr. Bones' Wild Ride, the Isekai of a Lifetime, and I am pulling over on the side and spilling my guts, which is to say I am writing this for you to understand what I am going through.

As per your dissertation, your gunshot through my chest if you will, I gathered the following big boy major points:

1) Matt's previous lives haunt the narrative. It's the death symbol, it's the propaganda machine, it's the Came Back Wrong, it's causing the kitsunes (Louis included) a lot of distress.

2) Matt is a people pleaser and has to act totally normal to lessen their worry. He lives a lie, acting for his LIFE and feeling trapped in it.

3) Dan is his salvation. It is through Dan that Matt is able to find joy in acting and be himself. He also finds a familiarity in Dan, for he sees that Dan is running away from something and finding solace in his art. Matt falls in love.

Sick wonderful awesome, tasty spicy finger-lickin, I wanted to put screenshots but the bitches got blurry. We trudge forward.

Ok, so Matt is a big major liar because of the people around him. Totally their fault, and his personality is a product of him fitting his personhood to their wants. The only exception to this rule is Dan, but what happens when he stops being that exception?

Here's where "post-Chapter 3 isn't real" comes in. Or rather, you can split the narrative or the timeline in two and have the dividing line be the ending of Chapter 3. You can divide the narrative between what I now call Canon and whatever comes after, the forever epilogue, the fix-it, the Rest of It.

Pre-Ch3 and the most relevant things that lead up to it (TGD / Mafia / the 1980s???) are the Canon that gets wrapped up kind of neatly in Chapter 3. Mafia Matt's death, Olive Garden (minus Olive)'s final confrontation/s (Ch2, Basement) with that monster that killed Olive, Dan's first comeuppance, the multiple Earth Gang therapy arcs, the aftermath and resolution of the Bunny Boys' drama all happen on or before Ch3.

Post-Ch3 has many arcs that are important (and fun and really good don't get me wrong) but are noticeably a different flavor to pre-Ch3. Matt's final life, the Beach Arc, Dan's Death Loop, Atty. Louis and the Reformed Tamers arc, The ENTIRE Revolution, UPS, Downs Canon and Candy Crush Canon, and of course ARMAGEDDON.

(Also, not in the list above is the assumed eternal Slice of Life story of the Earth Gang because they are allowed to exist and have basically no drama post-Ch3.

I have nowhere else to put it but here, BUT I think their storyline stops being written and has a whole different vibe, because the "story" is just the Rest of their Lives. Someday it will end, the humans will age, and I will NEVER be able to confront that. So their story does not exist and I am not looking at it, nosiree-)

So, these arcs post-Ch3 are the extension of Ch3. I think we MAYBE told a perfectly good story throughout Canon, like if we made a show, we could end it at Ch3 and have a solid fuckin show.

Post-Ch3 is like the really well-written fix-it fan fiction that follows (/pos!!!). Except it's by us, and it's everything we could ever want, and it's why we can end the world and lose our minds and feel happy and have all the pairings and KILL people and REALLY let lose.

A lot of post-Ch3 is like a whole new thing on its own I feel, and a lot of it isn't set in stone and it has no timestamps on the timeline and has a brainrot headcanonny feel because that's exactly what it is. I say this out of love: post-Ch3 is us looking at Canon, the thing we've made and we start thinking long and hard about the implications.

Back to Matt.

The Matt you talked about in your fucked up little dissertation is a product of the Canon. The Matt who is haunted by himself, the Matt who plays a character as an escape, the Matt who was born for the stage and lives for the stage and loved Dan because of the freedom Dan allowed Matt, which seemed to stem from Dan's understanding of what Matt was going through.

Dan was a breath of fresh air to Matt because he never brought up Matt's past lives.

In the Renaissance, Dan is first confronted with Matt's amnesia and the idea that he isn't who he was in his past life, and Dan inadvertedly does the kindest thing he possibly could. Dan is distraught for the duration of their initial bar conversation, before he decides to move on and write a new play. He buries the OSHA script (for a whole host of reasons), then shifts his focus to protecting the Matt he has in front of him, rather than digging up the previous Matt from his fucking grave and making him do a little dance.

As a result, it's their longest life together. For a minute there, it's the happiest either of them ever are. And then it ends, Matt dies, and what does Dan IMMEDIATELY follow it up with?

The Mafia Era. Without knowing it, Dan not only brings up Matt's past life, but the piece of shit does a whole revenge plot about it.

It's really funny whenever we talk about how Mafia Dan alludes to the Renaissance as if they both remember it, but with the knowledge that Matt believed Dan was special and loved him and felt safe with him because He Never Did That, it's suddenly a change in the script that chills Matt to his fucking bones.

Imagine their initial meeting. It starts off small with Dan chatting up Matt in the bar, courting him with this fucked up drug plan, telling him to quit his job and join his emo band (drug empire). Dan acts like they knew each other, something Matt is familiar with considering everyone in his theatre group did the same, recognizing him for his past self's Oscar wins, acting like they know him, and making him retreat to his stupid acting defense mechanism he learned in kitsune college. However, Dan of all people doing this to him feels wrong, but Matt has this inkling that it will pass. That he can trust Dan to drop it eventually and treat him like a normal person.

Imagine the safety of the kitchen. When Dan (as expected) forgot about his anger for a moment because Matt was in his home again, cooking with him again, as if the world outside Dan's home did not exist. It was the escapism of the stage, but there was no audience. Dan and Matt were free, yet they were not performing for anyone. Matt was content and happy, safe enough to tell Dan he wants this (the kitchen, the co-existence, the intimacy) for them forever.

Imagine the switch-up, when Dan remembers his fucking revenge plot. Imagine Matt wondering what the hell he did wrong, throwing anything at all at Dan to be allowed into his home again, and Dan outright refusing to because he's fucking petty. It's acting all over again, it's Matt trying to do what he does best, attune his personality to whatever the other person wants to make them feel comfortable with him. Acting to make them less disgusted with him. Acting in a way that makes them stop Looking At Him Like That. But Dan doesn't budge. He responds to nothing that Matt does and Matt has no idea what to do or how to act. He's acting because it's all he knows how to do, but this time he doesn't have the script.

Dan used to give him that script. Write Matt his plays and give him a role he can breathe in. Do that thing that Matt loves him for. But Dan's left that life behind. He is still running away from something (running from his brother, the Renaissance; awfully running from, Matt ), and Matt can SEE that, but he's doing it with THIS. This isn't art. It's malice, it's violence, it's becoming that bloodstreaked little thing Dan disappears into when he plays Mafia Dan, in which his words aren't his own and his steps are clumsier than they should be, unrehearsed and unfamiliar. Because he's fucking lying.

This isn't the honest, true Dan who Matt fell in love with in a life (in lives) he does not remember. And yet he is. He is the same Dan, in the way he walks in front of Matt during their raids of rival groups in the black market. He's the same Dan in the way he protects Matt by instinct alone. Matt can see the way Dan does not hesitate, his body and mind agreeing on something for once, suddenly gaining a practiced precision they did not previously have. But so what? It's wrong. Dan's tapping into old habits, the habit of keeping Matt alive, something he learned in the Renaissance, their happiest days, only to crush him. Only for the satisfaction of pushing Matt to the brink, of killing Matt himself.

Can you imagine the betrayal? Imagine the immense confusion Matt felt holding Dan's body as it went cold, as he muttered so much fucking NOTHING into Matt's ear, talking about things Matt doesn't remember. At this point, I don't know what he says. Neither does Matt. Dan could've said, "I've won," "I'm sorry," "where did you go?" and Matt wouldn't understand a single word. Because what the fuck is he talking about? Who the fuck is he talking to? Because it isn't Matt. It isn't anyone Matt identifies with, it isn't a person Matt knows how to be. And it fucking sucks, it fucking hurts how Matt can feel Dan trying to stay awake to get it all out, talk honestly for once in this life, and Matt can't respond. Dan kept him in the dark, in the same way everyone else made him feel, and Matt has no idea who he's holding anymore because he's become just like everyone else. And yet, he doesn't know why it hurts to lose Dan, and he doesn't know why he's grieving this fucking asshole.

But his soul knows.

His cursed kitsune soul still Loves Dan, still Loves the fading thing in his arms, and his soul knows that the person Matt Loved (the person he is anchored to) is dead.

You know when Louis went through something similar? When Louis realized the Matt he Loved is dead? And he broke up with him and broke his bond to him and fell ill for like a week?

Is that what Matt went through? When he lost the safety he found in Mafia Dan, maybe he felt something break in him and he felt himself get sick. Except Matt was a drug lord, so he had access to his awful fucking Demon drugs. So, he tried to self-medicate, and it made everything worse, and a long time passed,

enough time that Dan made his way back to him, carefree as ever, mostly healed, sure of himself again,

and Dan looked at Matt across the basement, with this blank expression as if he's burying something, weighing his options,

and then, Dan smiled at him like they didn't know each other.

And Matt feels a tug in his heart because it felt right. Dan felt familiar again. Matt could feel the anchor between their souls mending.

But Matt didn't fucking trust him anymore.

Matt kills Dan in the basement to silence his own stupid heart. He refuses to hope that they can be together again. He refuses to give Dan the chance to one day hurt him in a way Matt can't describe, to hurt him in a manner only possible if he knew Matt in a previous life and used that knowledge maliciously.

Because holy fuck it's terrifying when other people know something you don't. Matt feels terrified that the kitsunes, Louis, and Dan know him better than he does. It's something Matt has grappled with his entire existence. When he stops broadcasting to the world that he's lost his memories haha, he's pretending that he isn't vulnerable.

Matt has a blind spot, and it's his past life. It's a blind spot anyone can take advantage of. Matt knows anyone could lie to him; they could say they knew Matt in his old life and do whatever they want to hurt him and Matt fears this is the case for everyone he encounters.

Louis knew Matt for all his past lives, down to his very first one. If Louis was a little less kind, he could tell Matt they were friends in his old life, and that he saved Matt's life. He could have trapped Matt to Love him by making Matt feel indebted to him. It's not like Matt could refute his claims. And yet, Louis was kind, and did not pressure Matt into anything he didn't want.

If Jack and Benjy were a little less kind, they could arrest Matt on the spot the second he arrives at the beach. They could lie and pin any crime they wanted on him because they know he's the Tamer Boss, they could have the one of the greatest criminals in Hell's history in custody and he (Matt) would have no idea how to defend himself in court. But they were kind, and called a lawyer to consult with them on his case. Hell, they didn't even arrest Dan.

Even so, Matt can't simply believe in the kindness of the people around him. Not everyone is going to be like Louis or Jack or Benjy, and it really stings that Dan was the one who proved that.

From Matt's perspective, Dan was his greatest fear. Dan clearly knew him from a previous life, with the way Dan treated Matt and spoke to him in the bar. While everyone else who knew Renaissance Matt (his theatre company, the kitsunes) were all just a bit annoying (asking him for an autograph, asking him what happened between him and his previous director, looking at him sadly from across the room or like you said chatting him up as if he didn't have amnesia), Dan was Out To Get Him. Matt just barely got out of that unscathed, but when he sees Dan in the basement, acting like everything he did in the Mafia Era didn't happen? It raises alarm bells in Matt's head.

This is exactly what Matt wanted from Dan. Maybe Dan knows this. Maybe he's trying to earn Matt's trust. Maybe he's manipulating Matt. Maybe this is what he wants. Maybe he's going to do it all over again.

I have to fucking kill him.

And Matt dies.

And he forgets.

(And here is where I initially began my dissertation,)

And when he returns, the story is a little different.

It's post-Ch3 or post-Canon, and the world that molded Matt into the recluse theatre kid he used to be, has been slowly changing since the early 70s. The kitsunes in the college ask Matt about Louis, Dan has long since retired from producing plays, Louis is a lawyer and boss of the Demon Tamers, and revolution is brewing.

And Matt remakes himself.

Because when Matt respawns in the college, the kitsunes ask him about Louis instead of giving him an unhealthy dose of Came Back Wrong Syndrome.

Because when Matt meets Dan, who has long since retired from producing plays, he's avoiding Matt's gaze and walking into the sea. (And, Matt feels a tug in his heart when he sees that orange piece of shit go.)

Because when Matt meets Louis, who has loved Matt for basically all of his life, he's a lawyer and the guy Matt was looking for, and they date and He breaks things off with Matt.

Because when Matt meets Jack and Benjy, who have been trying to catch Matt since Ch3, they don't fucking arrest Matt on the urging of Atty. Louis, thereby releasing Matt from the legal repercussions of his previous life.

Because Mafia Matt still haunts the narrative. Dan is scared to death by him, Louis loved him, Jack Daniels wanted to catch him, but one by one each of those people let that go.

Matt is free, and as the single lucky person who does not remember the dreadful Canon, he is able to simply exist.

Yes, everything comes back to him eventually. At the end of the end of the world, he remembers everything Dan did to him, all the time he spent lying, all the millennia Louis was at his side.

But in that moment, by virtue of remembering everything, he knows himself fully, and his fear is abated. His blind spot dissolves, and he is able to confront his whole self.

Also, it super helps he has a psych degree at this point, like major plus points, big ups, that thing saves his life and helps him be ready to understand who he is ok bye happy 2024 @schmoft <333333

[valiantharpoon]

"Death At Stonehawk Lake" (fiction)

Written by: V. Harpoon (2023)

Chapter 1:

"That summer. That boy.

That love. That game.

That shower. That lust.

Long gone, yet...

Somehow lives forever...

Not just in romantic memory...

...but in that night at Stonehawk Lake."

- S. Det. Valiant Harpont -

Evan wasn't glad to see me. Death can do that to someone. The void where his blue eyes that used to dance now told of... sad tales. He's less than his former elegance. The bullet hole in his forehead spoke vulgar volumes. Also, his feet were missing. I'd say that maybe they've fallen off... but the soggy sweatpant legs were cut cleanly at the knees. His dreamy facade burns. I covered Evan with a cold sheet. The winter storm is closing in and hides the sun. Perfect timing. Evan's giggles echoed from my past. I'm not even sure if it really happened that way that summer anymore... Maybe all my memories are lies. Maybe they all are... Either way, Evan deserved a proper ride home. I could at least give him that amount of solace...

I, without looking up: "Let's go."

How to describe how opposite I feel now? Empty. Hardness and in torturous pain. It was the bloated purple corpse of Evan that cut me so. It bumped the skip as we dragged it in from the lake. That sound will haunt me later, I'm sure. My partner Dayna watched from the shore. I haven't been back here since that long-ago summer... a drink of - can't focus...

S. Det. Dana Tyler signals on the radio, the crew barks back, and we return to the pier... the same one we claimed was ours back in our youth. It's the one across Stonehawk Lake from his parents' log cabin mansion. The dock creaked ominously, but remained steady. The coroner and his assistant carry his corpse to the van. Evan doesn't notice.

Dana and I silently get in the robin-blue rental car, crank the engine, and sit for a while. The others continue with their tasks. We prepare to drive away... I wish I hadn't given up smoking. Dana hands me a wax vape-pen from her coat. I wave it away. She holds it there for seconds longer. I never thought seconds could last this long... I take it from her, she shifts into drive, and we coax the naked forests soon to be dense with snow. The lake hasn't frozen yet, but after tonight?

I take a few slow drags from the pen. I try to unravel what I know. Maybe at the hotel, something in the files, a secret not written down, a warning perhaps, a quarrel, an accident, on purpose, a sign, the smoke and a gun, what happened, when, by whom, but most importantly why? Why you, Evan?

Dana takes the vape back. I'm just staring out at the dark trees. Evan's bloated face with his missing eyes make random appearances. The only sounds are heater vents and tyres rumbling. And breathing. And confusion. And a heartache from a place almost forgotten. If it hadn't been for the alleged suicide of a international millionaire and the disappearance of his daughter, we wouldn't be here.

But we get the tough cases. The weird ones. This is no different. Somewhere in this sleepy town lurks a monster. Who? Or more terrifying, what? The question of why was already certain. Evan was having an affair with the daughter of his boyfriend. Of this I'm positive, that's just how I remember Evan. A lover to everyone and beholder of a thousand hearts. Maybe the old millionaire did it. Maybe the sultry daughter. One covering the other definitely. But still it's not a satisfying answer. Where are they anyway? Again, I come back to his missing feet... A sick thump against the car makes both of us jump. We didn't stop as nothing tangible was left behind...

Later, in the shower, crying and replaying that night... but it ends with Evan's bloated purple corpse staring at me. Bullet hole dead center and smoking. He has the truth somewhere safe and hidden. The scent of this soap reminds me of happier times. Yet, on the floor, shower still roaring steam, I curl up and burst. I don't bother to read any files tonight...

The next morning, Dayna and I are sitting in a deep-set, red-leather booth at 'Hard Egg's Diner'. The coffee is good and the eggs are perfect. Dayna bites into a cheese pastry. We haven't spoken since last night. The ruby horizon gains brighter colors. The diner slowly fills with fisherman and old men. The kitchen clanging with its culinary music. I noticed Danya's blond hair is up but frizzy.

I sip coffee: "What's new?"

Dayna: "This case just got weirder."

I: "Go on."

Dayna: "We found the daughter."

I: "It's where that makes it odd, right?"

Dayna nods: "Yeah."

I want a smoke: "Where was she?"

Dayna: "Hobart's Cave. Most of her anyway."

We meet eyes and I remember the old ghost stories. Horror is king to the young.

I: "They found her in the Witches Gate?"

Dayna nods: "Her head on a stick."

I: "Dramatic."

Dayna: "Haven't seen it yet, but the scene waits for our adventure."

I: "Ease up on the vape."

Dayna, clear eyes glow: "Totally sober."

Barely an hour later, we arrive at the base of Stonehawk Mountain. Hobart's Cave hides in the bright day. Its crevice is the entrance to the deepest cavern system in the state. A gash like a lopsided vulva carves into the rock. Nobody wants to fuck with it anymore. Except teenagers and idiots. Even the tourist association stopped after the last cave-in decades ago. 41 people got trapped and died. A small bronze plaque commemorates them. We step into the Witches Gate. Everything changed for us again... Lovecraft awakes.

TBC...

[hamliet]

Dabi’s Missing Heart

So I’ve been seeing two main responses to Dabi’s character as portrayed in BNHA 292, both of which I feel touch on a very surface understanding of his character and role in the story despite seeming like opposite takes.  

Take #1: 

Dabi is an unfeeling monster created to show the redeemability of Shigaraki and Enji in contrast with his true eeeevil villainy! He will never be redeemed! 

Take #2: 

Dabi is a sweet softy who did nothing wrong! He will never be redeemed because of this chapter which is so out-of-character! 

Note how they both have the same endpoint. I’m not actually gonna address the redemption question much because I can’t fathom what this panel foreshadows if not Touya’s salvation (alive): 

I’m not looking to debate this either; I’m just putting it here because I know it’ll come up if I don’t.

Instead, I wanna address Dabi’s character. He’s my favorite, and I’ve been asked a few different times whether I enjoy him as a villain or as an uwu poor baby, and my answer is always both. 

Dabi is a villain. This chapter’s rampage is, in my opinion, not remotely out of character for him. But neither is it the summation of his character, and he surely is not meant to make Enji look good by comparison. 

So, who is Dabi? 

Dabi is kind of a flaming jerk, and that’s why I like him. He’s an abuse victim who gets to be angry and crass and sharp. He pushes people away because he doesn’t want to open up to them and get burned (heh). He’s just like Shouto in that, except with a dose of murder. 

Believe it or not, this is a very realistic response to abuse, and very common too. It’s good to see that representation. If the writing was indeed just “he’s bad get rid of him,” well, that would of course be a terrible representation. But seeing a mean victim get redeemed? Now that’s some good sh*t I’m here for. 

If you want a sweethearted, misunderstood soft victim, there is one in MHA, and that’s Shigaraki. Dabi is not these things, but that does not mean he’s not a victim or that he’s somehow an unfeeling monster.

You see, Shigaraki is a heart character. Dabi’s the mind. (Heart and mind characters are a literary pattern that is utilized in literature across the globe; it’s not an eastern/western cultural thing. It has its roots in alchemy.) The problem is that you can’t have a heart without a mind nor a mind without a heart. If you lack one, you’re missing half the picture, and you won’t accomplish anything. 

We see this with Shigaraki in his quest to look for ideals, something to believe in, purpose to justify/enable acting on his feelings/emotions. 

Dabi, in contrast, has conviction and ideals, but eschews any kind of personal connection and care. 

So, both Shigaraki and Dabi struggle to unite heart and mind--but they need to do precisely this. 

It’s not a coincidence that Shigaraki expressly envisions both Dabi and Himiko when musing on what his purpose is. 

Yet Shigaraki is able to unite more easily with Himiko as opposed to Dabi because Himiko is also a heart character. She claims to be motivated by extreme empathy that warps around to become a lack thereof (wanting to be who she loves).

Shigaraki’s motivations are basically revenge for hero society not saving him--which encompasses both a deep internal and external (societal) need for empathy and a need for better ideals. Shigaraki needs Himiko and Dabi. They’re a trio, and all of them need each other to grow. But Himiko, being similarly driven expressly by emotions, is easier for Shigaraki to understand and work with. 

The irony is that Dabi is actually a very, very emotional character as well. But what he does (as is typical for a mind character) is repress them, compartmentalize, dissociate. He constantly pushes people away, yet admits privately, to himself, that he’s primarily (and paradoxically) motivated by family. This is emotional, yet Dabi claims he “overthought” and, according to other translations, “snapped” can be actually be read as “went crazy” as a result over overthinking (note: both are mind allusions). 

Dabi repressing who he is--Todoroki Touya--is symbolic of him repressing his emotional side, because again, family and emotions are tied together for his character. Now his identity is acknowledged, and Dabi claims to be losing his mind (again), claims that he can’t feel, and yet is completely consumed by emotions. Like, does anyone think he’s being methodical and calculating this chapter? 

It’s not just negative emotions (rage, hate) that drive Dabi in response to his family. His seeking belonging and emotional connection is present even in a chapter where he tries to murder two members of his family and laughs off the risk to the life of another. 

See, Dabi first asked Shouto to validate his pain:

But like, given the circumstances, of course Shouto doesn’t really respond well. How Shouto responds is this: 

Shouto’s words are triggering. And keep in mind I am not blaming Shouto: he’s in shock and he’s a kid. I’m merely trying to explain how it likely comes across to Dabi. 

You’re crazy. Your feelings don’t matter. You don’t really care about Natsuo! You’re a villain and that’s ALL you are. Not a brother or abuse survivor. Just a villain. 

So, uh, yeah, Dabi then retreats back to being unable to feel, dissociating as has always been his coping mechanism. But that’s not all: Dabi’s been repressing for so long that of course he’s gonna go a little insane in response to the dismissal of everything he’s trying to point out. Why wouldn’t he? His family dismissed his pain back then and now again, and so, without that heart, without those emotions, principle is all Dabi has. This has been present since long before Stain’s ideology came into his life: 

Now, he answers this question of existence through Stain’s ideology.  Purpose is all he has, and to him, Shouto and Best Jeanist are dismissing that too. Why are they dismissing it? Best Jeanist dismisses him for an ideal: the overall good of hero society. Shouto has a mixture of this ideal and also like, genuine shock and pain. 

Back to Dabi. Dabi’s summation of himself and his purpose is incorrect and harmful to himself and others. I’m not excusing him or justifying, just explaining. It’s a tragic reflection of what Endeavor raised both Touya and Shouto to be (and thereby ironic that BJ uses an ideal to dismiss him): 

Instead of being raised to be the symbol of hero society--as Endeavor intended--he exists to destroy it. The root is the same: Dabi assumes he exists for hero society, as a tool. He dehumanizes himself, hence why his quirk physically harms him (which also fits his almost religious zeal for Stain’s ideology). But it is not all Dabi is. He’s not a tool, he’s a person, but to acknowledge he’s a person involves acknowledging his heart/emotional desires, and that gets to my next point.

Dabi’s not a reliable narrator about himself. At all. I’ve written about Dabi and dissociation before. So let’s look at Dabi’s devotion to his ideals, the ideals he puts above people and claims he only cares about... because there are moments where Dabi goes against those ideals. 

For one example, Dabi’s gone against those ideals when he’s allowed his personal need for revenge (an emotional/heart motivation) to overcome his longterm plan. Like, he was fully about to get himself killed here, even though that would likely mean no one would know the corruption of the Todoroki family and hero society, just for the chance to prove to his father that he hurt him. 

In addition, I’ve talked before about how Dabi’s the only character in the entire damn manga to comment that maybe using child soldiers is not okay. While it’s not explicitly stated, it’s reasonable to conclude that Dabi considers the abuse of children in hero training a sin of hero society that ought to be purged (hence, part of his ideals). 

That said, I have also pointed out that Dabi has gone after children in the past when it benefits his mission (Bakugou would like a word). So let’s look at four examples of Dabi and his principles concerning kids--since, after all, he claims to be motivated by heroes who hurt kids. 

Firstly, Dabi’s “save the cat” when he spared Aoyama. 

Why did he spare Aoyama? We can only speculate, but it seems quite likely there are two reasons: 1) hurting Aoyama would not add anything to his overall goal of downing hero society, and 2) a terrified, cowering kid might just have been a teeny bit familiar to Dabi. Here, his ideals--destroying hero society--either take a backseat to a reflection of his personal pain (and)/or his ideal of not abusing kids directly contradicted his ideal of bringing down hero society. But the important part is that in this instance, Dabi chose mercy and the goal of bringing down hero society was jeopardized as a result. 

So then why did he attack Tokoyami, Nejire, and Shouto this arc? Well, Dabi does things he knows are wrong for the sake of accomplishing his overall purpose. He does things he knows hurt himself for this purpose. This isn’t new. If he can’t be acknowledged, can’t exist as a person with emotions, then he at least will ensure he still has a purpose.  

In addition, let’s look at what sets Dabi off in all of these instances. (Again, this isn’t me saying “well actually Dabi’s justified.” He’s not. I’m just pointing to what’s in the text to explain the machinations beyond “bad guy do bad.”)

Dabi tries to reason with Tokoyami, pointing out that Twice was doing essentially what Tokoyami is doing: trying to save his friend(s), but Tokoyami doesn’t listen (also again: not me saying Tokoyami should have listened--realistically, in this situation, it makes sense Tokoyami trusted his mentor!)

Only after his reasoning was rejected did Dabi go to flames mode. He could have just let Tokoyami save Hawks, but instead he really wanted to kill Hawks and that overrode his other principles. Was this just because of his furthering his goal--killing the #2 hero would help destroy hero society--or because of a sense of personal revenge for Twice? That’s open for interpretation (in my opinion, it’s likely a mixture, because again, it tends to intertwine more than Dabi likes to think it does). His principles and/or emotions are brushed aside, and Dabi Does Not Like That. 

Dabi does this again with Shouto this chapter, asking him where he stands on their family issues, and gets brushed aside, and then Shouto goes into his rage mode and Dabi responds. Again, not saying Shouto is rational here or that he should side with Dabi’s murderous plan, but like, his words really don’t come across well to Dabi. 

Dabi going after Shouto after explaining things, asking Shouto for help, and then having his pain dismissed is pretty much a repeat of Tokoyami. When Dabi’s pain is dismissed, he says fine, let’s aim for the highest principle possible: making Stain’s will a reality, and damn any emotional ties. 

Dabi’s obsession with ideals, you might say, is a smokescreen to cover his own pain. Far from feeling nothing, he feels very deeply. (I promise I’m getting to Nejire.) 

So what does this indicate? Well, that Dabi does have a heart and a conscience. But when he lets his heart act, when his heart reaches out, he gets burned. His heart jeopardizes his overall purpose, so he most often dissociates himself from it. But by pretending he doesn’t have a heart, he dehumanizes himself, and he projects that dehumanization onto others (see: seeing Shouto as an extension of Endeavor, when that’s actually the precise image Shouto is trying to shed). 

It’s not a coincidence that Shigaraki has been unconscious during the entire confrontation with Endeavor, nor is it a coincidence that Himiko has been MIA. But, Shigaraki wakes up a bit this chapter not only when hearing Dabi spout about how hero society needs to burn, an ideal/the thing Shigaraki lacks, and through a less important but still-ideal-driven character in Spinner asking him to accomplish his supposed ideal of destruction, but when Dabi saves Shigaraki and Spinner. 

Dabi doesn’t burn Nejire for lols (not that this makes it better because it doesn’t) or even for ideals. He burns her to save Shigaraki and Spinner, because they are his links to full humanity right now. 

(Again, this is also dissociation and projection: Endeavor did this! No, Dabi, you did. You’re perpetuating violence against kids rather than stopping it.)

But anyways, when Dabi calls upon heart, Shigaraki wakes. He lends Gigantomachia and thereby Dabi and the league power. 

Dabi can only grow and actually accomplish anything related to his ideals (fixing hero society) through accepting a heart--even though that will likely mean some painful surgery to shift his ideals to accommodate said heart, because pure ideals don’t leave much room for humanity. He needs to feel to actually change anything, because right now he’s just making things worse (hence, the need for saving and redemption).

I know the League aren’t the protagonists of the serIes, but their complaints aren’t exactly incorrect either (if anything they’re almost a little too valid). But through growing together, Dabi, Shigaraki, and Himiko might actually be able to accomplish something, and get themselves in a place where they can be reached and saved by Shouto, Deku, and Ochaco. Because to be saved, the kids will have to acknowledge the villains’ pain and complaints, and do something about it. 

[damonjuicyscock]

To The End (Chapter 19 : Good Song)

Pairing: 00's Damon Albarn x Reader

Warnings: Language,fluff, smut (p in v sex, dom! Damon, unprotected sex), maybe a few spelling mistakes (I hope not)

Summary: You are Damon Albarn's ex girlfriend and the mother of his other child. Your relationship with Damon can now be described as complicated. You join him in Reykjavik with Mina for good times and a bit of holidays where there's a few surprises coming...

Words: 4090 (yes it's a long one)

A/N: Hello ! Here is the chapter you've all been waiting for ! Next chapter will be the epilogue guys, we arrived... To The End of the story (okay sorry for the play on words) I think it might be the longest chapter I've written since then.

Enjoy !

“Sleeping but my work's not done I could be lying on an atom bomb I'll take care cause I know you'll be there And you seem very beautiful to me”

Tuesday March 15th 2005:

After putting Mina to bed, it was time to have a talk with my daughter’s father.

I decided I would follow him everywhere. Again.

How could a few months only change that? Only changed the way I previously felt about him?

I never stopped loving him. That’s why.

After getting downstairs, I went back to the living room where Damon was clearly waiting for me, sat on the couch.

I walked towards him, looking at him deep in the eye for a few seconds before sitting down on top of him and putting both my hands on his cheeks, before kissing him passionately.

- I love you Damon. I said

- God Y/N, I was waiting to hear it again for so long now. I love you too.

- I need to ask you something.

- Anything you want.

- Mina and I are joining you in Iceland.

- Is that true?

- It is. And once we’ll be here, I would like you to do something for me.

- Which is?

- I want you to make sweet love to me, like the good old times. Could you do that?

Sparkles invaded his eyes, and I saw his mouth opening agape, surprised, before answering:

- Of course I will baby! Geez, am I dreaming?

- No you’re not, I really asked you.

- I’ve also waited so long to hear you say that again…

*

March 18th 2005:

Finally, Damon shifted the days of our stay in Reykjavik. We arrived at the airport on March 18th at 8:45 pm.

Damon had sent a driver to pick us up, as dearest still didn’t have his driver licence, and respected the fact we couldn’t be seen together in an airport, where a lot of people could recognize you.

But he was waiting for us at the main entry that led to his flat

He had changed the decoration of his apartment, but was thing was still there, exposed in his studio room. My wedding dress.

- You kept it? Why?

- It makes me creative. I can’t see myself writing songs without having any piece of you in here or in my mind. Everything here helps me being creative.

- Oi, there’s a piano! Can I play daddy? Mina asked

- Sure love, after dinner, I prepared a delicious meal for you two. You must be very hungry.

- Hell yeah! Mina answered

- Come on then!

After eating, we came back to the studio room where Mina ran to the piano and started playing something really beautiful, probably some classic music.

- What are you playing? I asked

- Rachmaninoff. She answered

She was way more talented that Damon and I thought.

Playing some Rachmaninoff at almost 7 years old… It was impressive.

It was a Friday night, so we let her be awake until 11pm.

When Damon went to put her to bed, I went to take a shower while he was telling her about myths and legends of Island, telling her about the Huldufólk, who are some hidden elfic people, Álfhól, that are little houses built for them, Vik trolls, sea monsters, called skrimsli.

*

After taking my shower, I went on the bedroom’s balcony to smoke a cigarette.

Damon joined me, putting a plaid around my shoulders.

- You’re gonna get a cold if you go outside with only your shirt, lovely woman.

Yes, I was bare from legs to feet, with only my pyjama shirt by only -2,2°C.

- Don’t worry, I’m used to coolness.

He chuckled

- Not the Icelandic one love. He answered, lightening his cigarette

I put my head on his shoulder.

- You were right, I needed a little holiday with you. But they know you here, so we have to be careful.

- Yes, but in this apartment, we’re free and safe. By the way, I thought that during the next week, we could take Minnie to the Elfschool?

- What’s that?

- Well, it’s a school where you learn everything about elves and hidden people in Iceland. I thought it could be interesting as Minnie asked me to know more about this.

- Yeah, it could be fun! And tomorrow, what are we planning to do?

- It’s a surprise.

- A surprise? For me?

- Yup.

He finished his cigarette and threw it in the ashtray. I took his face in my hands and looked him deep in the eyes.

- And what about what I asked you?

He smiled.

- Can you be more explicit?

I kissed him, before looking him back in the eyes and whispered in his ear

- Dames, make love to me.

- Your wishes are orders woman.

He grabbed my hand and laid me on the bed before closing the window and locking the bedroom’s door.

- Let’s hope Mina won’t hear anything.

- She won’t. He answered before smashing his lips on mine.

He slowly unbuttoned the shirt I was wearing, revealing my naked body.

- It feels like discovering you everytime…

- Discover me again my love.

He grabbed my breasts and brought his mouth on one, kissing it before swirling his tongue around the nub and sucking it, making me whimper at the feeling.

- Oh god, how I missed you my little devil…

He looked at me, kissing me sensually and tenderly from my chest to my thighs.

He got on his knees and kissed my thighs. When he did that, I breathed shakily. Then his head got between them and licked a long stripe at my clit, making me moan loudly.

He kept doing it until I was aroused enough and pushed two fingers inside me, pumping them in and out, while my fingers went in his hair, caressing his head.

- Oh Damon…

- See? I told you you would have more.

I quickly became a moaning mess, squirming under his touch, the coil in my stomach indicating I was being close to come undone around his fingers.

- Dames…

- I know baby… let go. He answered

My hands grabbed his hair and the sheets, tugging them as I came hard, moaning his name loudly.

He pulled his fingers out and I shakily helped him to take his clothes off. His length was painfully hard.

Once he was fully naked, he climbed on top of me, spread my legs, and lined his tip with my entrance.

- Wait, what about you?

- Me? I just want to make love to you my love, I could cum by just watching you squirming and moaning under me. Tonight, it’s all about you. I owe you this.

- Just be gentle at first, okay?

- I don’t intend to fuck you. You asked me to make sweet love to you and that’s what I’ll do.

He pushed inside me, both moaning in unison at the feeling.

While he was letting me adjust to his size, he kissed me passionately, and grabbed my hand to hold while he would make love to me. It had been almost 8 years that I didn’t do anything sexual so yes, the feeling was a bit overwhelming.

Once I was ready, I nodded, and he began rolling his hips against mine, slowly.

- God you’re so tight. He hissed

- Does it reminds you of something? I said, smiling

- The first time we first did it yes. As I said, it’s like discovering you everytime.

He quickened the pace. I squeezed his hand and moaned.

- Oh Dames…I missed you so much…

- I…missed you too. God Y/N, I love you… He answered, grunting

A lot of I love you’s slipped out of our mouths, looking at each other deep in the eyes, sharing a tender, sensual, and intimate moment.

And he switched our position, I was now on top of him.

- Ride me babygirl, please, I’m all yours.

I did as he asked, rolling my hips against his, bouncing up and down on him, still holding hands, and looking at each other.

His free hand went on my hip.

We became a moaning choir now, and loved watching his face contort with pleasure, struggling to keep his eyes opened.

I squeezed his hand again and felt the coil in my stomach come back, growing at each thrust.

I felt myself clench around him.

- God Y/N… He said moaning

- Dames…I’m gonna…

He sat and wrapped his arms around me, kissing me passionately.

- Me too my love, just keep bouncing and hold me tight…. Please…

I did as told, and I felt my second orgasm approach.

My eyes squeezed shut, and my legs started shaking. I clenched around him once more and felt the coil release. Unable to moan anymore from the pleasure that had taken me, my faces showing it, I was only shivers, whines, and hard pants. Until I felt Damon twitch inside me, indicating me he was about to cum.

I cried his name out, and it was enough to throw him over the edge, yelling my name while cumming and painting my walls with his hot release.

We collapsed on the bed, my sweaty body on his, both trembling, his arms still wrapped around me.

A tear rolled down my cheek in happiness and emotion.

We stood like this, panting, for minutes, until I felt him soften.

I laid next to him and he got up to pick a wet cloth to clean the mess from our bodies.

After this, he covered us, and I laid his head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around my naked body, caressing my skin, and leaving a kiss on my head.

- I missed you. So much. When you left me, I got so lost and hopeless. I… I didn’t know what to do… I tried to call many many times everyday. And when I got home, you weren’t there anymore…I didn’t know where you were, it was killing me. And Jessica came at my door, telling me you were at the hospital because you overdosed, God knows how much I was mad at you at this moment. I wanted to see you, to take care of you and to tell you how I was sorry, because it was my fault. Everything was. When you refused to see me, I understood it was the end of us. So I sold our apartment and went living with Jamie in another one. But still, I decided to write this letter, in case I could change your mind. But you never answered and I couldn’t stop loving you. Even when It never stopped, and I wanted to start a family. Which I had, but I couldn’t keep you out of my mind and I was so miserable, always sad. And all these years I tried to chase you from my mind, but it was a lost cause. And this day, when you appeared in front of me, it felt like I was reborn. Now you know Y/N. I never stopped loving you.

I saw a few tears run down from his face, just like they were doing with me.

I kissed him, tenderly.

- I missed you too. God, you don’t know how. And I love you. So much Dames.

- I have two families now. And both families matter. But you’ll always be my one.

*

March 19th 2005:

I woke up alone in this bed and I found a word written by Damon next to me, that I had crushed when sleeping.

It was an address. I called Damon and Mina’s names in the apartment, but none of them answered.

I decided to put some clothes on and to follow the address on the paper after eating a little something.

This address was a café, and someone was waiting for me.

- Hello, are you Y/N Y/L/N? a blonde woman with a strong Icelandic accent asked me

- Yes? I answered a bit surprised

- Good morning madam, my name is Frida, I’m supposed to accompany you today. Mister Albarn told me that you had to follow me without asking any questions. Also, you have to put this blindfold.

Wow, what was Damon planning?

I obeyed and put the blindfold on, and I felt the woman put headphones on my head and ears. I first heard an audio of Damon’s voice.

“Good morning darling. By the time you are listening to this, we won’t be together before at least 5 hours. I won’t tell you what it’s all about, it’s a surprise I hope you’ll like. Oh, and if you’re wondering, Mina is with me. Follow every instruction Frida will give you. You will have to keep the blindfold on during these 5 hours. I love you. Now here’s a little playlist to keep you waiting.”

As the hours passed, I understood that at first, I had been to the hair stylist who made me a big hair bun, because I was feeling something massive on my head.

After this, we’ve been to a clothes shop, where I was dressed in a dress and thighs, as I felt something was on my legs.

And to finish, the blindfold was taken off me a first time. I tried to look at myself even in a mirror, but everything was hidden, even my body was hidden from me with a huge black velvet fabric.

He really wanted it to be a surprise.

Some makeup was put on my face, and the blindfold on again.

There we were, in a car again, and earphones put in my ears this time. I heard Damon’s voice again.

“Well, here you go lovely woman, this is the last step before you find us. This van you’re in takes you in a marvellous place, and it will be a bit long. Something like 2 hours. To distract you, here’s the second part of the playlist. It might remind you something. Our youth, teenage years, and our young adult age included. Let’s begin with your first music crush ever, the one you always have been dancing to, and that’s what Mina told me, mister George Duke with Shine on. Don’t party too much yourself okay? Wait for us to do that. I love you.”

This playlist had so much good songs in it, it was hard containing myself to dance on my seat.

Finally, we arrived, and we entered a place, where earphones, blindfold and velvet fabric were taken off me.

In front of me were 6 persons. Damon, Mina, Jamie, Noel, Sara and… a priest ?

- Hello mama ! Mina said

- Oh my god, what are you all doing here?

- Celebrating an event that had to take place a long time ago already Y/N. Jamie answered

Tears were threatening to run down my face.

- Are we getting married? I said, voice broken by the tears

- Yes, we finally are. Damon answered the same

I looked down and saw I was in fact in a beautiful white velvet wedding dress. Simple, but stunning.

I approached Damon, trying not to cry.

- I hope you don’t mind us being your witnesses. Noel said

- No! I’m even honoured you accepted to be. I answered

I turned towards my future husband

- What about…

- I told you. I have two families, but you’ll always be my one. Of course it’s a secret wedding, only us six here will know, but I wanted this for so long and I hope you too.

- Of course she wants it you knobhead, she’s been waiting ready for almost ten years! Noel exclaimed

Damon grabbed my hands, trembling. The priest was struggling to talk English, but it didn’t matter.

- Do you pledge to share your lives openly with one another, and to speak the truth in love? Do you promise to honour and tenderly care for one another, cherish, and encourage each other, stand together, through sorrows and joys, hardships and triumphs for the days of your lives?

- I do. But I hope without sorrows, we’ve had enough. Damon said

I laughed

- I do. I answered

- Well, as it is a secret wedding, I’ll directly go to the rings.

No one reacted, until Jamie reminded himself he was the one with the rings and gave these to the priest.

- May these rings be blessed as a symbol of your union. As often as either of you look upon these rings, may you not only be reminded of this moment, but also of the vows you have made and the strength of your commitment to each other. Damon, please, repeat after me. I, Damon…

- I, Damon…

- Promise to love and support you Y/N…

- Promise to love and support you Y/N…

- And live each day with kindness, understanding, truth, humour, and passion.

- And live each day with kindness, understanding, truth, humour, and passion.

- With this ring, I thee wed.

- With this ring, I thee wed.

So not to arouse suspicion, he slid the ring on the wedding finger from my right hand.

I repeated the same vows and did the same for Damon.

- Go now in peace and live in love, sharing the most precious gifts you have: the gifts of your lives united. And may your days be long on this earth. I now pronounce you secret husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.

- Goddamn yes I will! Damon said

He kissed me passionately, and our witnesses next to us applauded.

I looked at Damon in the eyes

- To the end. I said

- To the end. He answered

Mina jumped in our arms. Damon grabbed both our hands and walked along the aisle, directing us outside.

- And now, the second surprise…

Once we were outside, it was a beautiful show. Northern lights were crossing the sky. In front of us, there was a huge glacier.

- Daddy, that’s wonderful! Mina said

- I know right?

- Where are we exactly?

- We are in Búðir, 2 hours away from Reykjavik.

- Thank you Dames. I would never have guessed this was going to happen.

- Don’t thank me, I did this because I love you, Mrs Albarn.

- Secret Mrs Albarn and secret Mina Albarn. Our daughter said

- That’s right my love.

- Oi! Are we taking these goddamn pictures or what? The priest is waiting me cock. Noel said, talking to me.

*

We were now in our room in a guesthouse, 15 minutes away from the church where we married. Damon had taken a big house so Mina could have her own room too.

Once we were in our bedroom, Damon locked the door. Then he turned to me and kissed me passionately, his lips going down on my neck, leaving kisses and hickeys.

- You know, it’s gonna be even better when you’ll take this dress off me…

- Oh I will, don’t worry.

He got on his knees, lifting my dress up to reveal my garter. He took my foot in his hand, kissing my thigh and sliding the garter down slowly.

He sat me down on the bed, still kissing both my thighs.

- I love it when you wear stockings, it makes you sexier than you already are. I’m head over heels for you Mrs Albarn. Now get up my love, I’m going to take this dress off you.

I got up and turned to show my back so he could unzip my dress. Which he did, slowly, just like he did with the garter.

The dress fell at my feet, and I was left in my undergarments in front of him.

- And now, my turn… I said

I got on my knees and unbuttoned his pants, and I was surprised to see he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

- Well well, you decided to take revenge on me for the other time?

- Kind of.

- You did it.

I took his half hard member in my hand, pumping it, before taking him in my mouth.

- God Y/N… He moaned

I swirled my tongue around the tip, sucking him like there was no tomorrow.

His hand came stroking my hair, looking for something to hold on to.

- Hey, stop, I want to make love to my wife madam.

I got up and took the rest of his clothes off, and he took off my underwear, leaving us kissing naked on the bed.

- Hey, aren’t you scared they could hear us? The walls are thin.

- We gotta be quiet then.

- You know it’s hard for me to be quiet when you make love to me, you make me feel so good…

- I’m gonna make you quiet then.

He kissed me passionately, before entering me without warning.

I hissed at the feeling. I was ready, but surprised.

He started rolling his hips against mine, slowly, making me whimper in pleasure.

- I love you, my wife. God, I’m so happy to finally call you my wife. He puffed

I lowly moan at his sentence.

The more he was pounding inside me, the more the coil was growing inside my belly, the more I was moaning loudly.

And Damon decided to play with this. He put his hand on my mouth, groaning lowly, and pounding harder and harder inside me.

Tears invaded my eyes from the pleasure I was feeling. His other hand went between my legs, his thumb massaging my clit, making me scream against his hand.

- You like it huh? He grunted

My answer was a cry, he was hitting my G spot with every thrust, and I could tell we both were close, him, by the way his erratic thrusts were becoming sloppier.

It excited him to see me cry out against his hand, forcing me to be quiet, and I can’t deny it, it was also the same for me.

- If I take my hand of your mouth, will you be able to be silent sweetheart? Huh…I don’t think so…

I nodded, but I perfectly knew that I wouldn’t be.

He removed his hand from my mouth, and a loud moan slipped from my lips, making him twitch inside me.

- Damon…I’m gonna…I’m so…

He smashed his lips on mine, silencing my moans, and himself letting out a moan vibrating on my lips.

He trusted a few more times inside me, before the coil in my stomach released, which threw him over the edge.

He spilled his hot cum inside me and collapsed on top of me.

He peppered my neck with kisses, caressing my sweaty body, while I was caressing his, both catching our breath.

- How?

- How what?

- How did you plan all this without me knowing? I asked

- I got help. From our lovely daughter at first, who gave me papers, then Jamie, and after this, I thought about who your witnesses could be. Minnie suggested Noel. So she gave me his number. I’m not gonna lie, at first, we I called him, he insulted me, and I don’t even know what the insults meant.

- Mancunian slang. I chuckled

- Yeah. At first, he refused, but Minnie rescued me and convinced him. Jessica and Minnie helped me to choose a dress for you and a hairstyle. But I already had our wedding rings for ten years. I kept them all this time and didn’t have the right to miss my luck a second time.

- You’re a genius.

- Maybe. But our daughter is more a genius than I am.

*

April 2005:

- Mama, are you sure you’re okay? Mina asked

- Yes Mina, I am, I promise.

- But you look pale…

- I only need to take the sunlight sweetie, I need some vitamin D. I’ve been stuck in studio these past few days, so it didn’t help.

- Are we going out when daddy will be there?

- No Mina, you know why.

- But I don’t care if the paps sees us together, you must think about your health first!

- How old are you already?

- 6.

- Yeah. But sometimes I feel like I never raised a little girl. I raised a little woman.

Damon arrived a few minutes later.

- Okay sit down you two, you’re giving me a headache.

- You seem tired love, what is it? How long has it been like this?

- A week or two.

- Have you been to the doctor?

- No, but I know what I have.

- What is it then?

- I’ll tell you later.

- No, tell me now.

I sighed.

- Okay. I’ll give you the list of my symptoms. I puke, and I’m very sensitive.

- So you have a stomach bug then?

- No Damon, I’m pregnant.