#this dare gave me motivation to write this chapter

[prysmartin]

No Home for a Hero - Chapter 3

Man I'm really bad at posting to this, but no I haven't completely abandoned this blog; writing hard even if everyone says I'm good at it mannnn Anyways, I've got another nine-page chapter to share with you all. 3,408 words approximately. It's kinda funny that after a three-month hiatus I just. Did that in like three days. It wasn't three months for this blog, but it was three months between my YouTube readings, which are a little more accurate to when I wrote it. Speaking of YouTube, of course, here's the video for this chapter:

Annibelle shot up, woken by a sudden metallic clanging. It was as though the town’s Blacksmiths were right outside her bedroom window. She quickly glanced around the tent, trying to find the source of the noise. There wasn’t much natural light - it must have only barely been morning by now - but she could make out her surroundings inside the tent.

Not that those surroundings were reassuring - she couldn’t see a thing. Where had Phillip gone? What about his sleeping bag? His backpack? Why was the room so barren? Where even was her own bag? She spun around again, frantically grabbing at where she had left it close to the edge of the tent. Annibelle let out a sigh of relief when her hand hit the bag, the rough imprints of her tools pressed into its side.

She cautiously got up, making more noise than she wanted as she slipped out of her sleeping bag. On any normal day the slight rustle would’ve been forgotten and done with in an instant, but today, Annibelle was terrified of drawing the attention of whatever await her outside. It was a somewhat familiar noise in a horribly unfamiliar place.

To make matters worse, she could hear the crackle of the leaves as the beast skulked around. It was all she could hear aside from the wind and her own breath as she moderated every bit of air passing through her lips.

She peeked through the front flap of the tent and glanced around, expecting to see signs of a giant or some monster, or maybe even come face to face with the behemoth. Instead, she was greeted by a much warmer view, as a crackling campfire’s heat before her could be felt in just its vibrant shades of red-orange. The flames leaped upwards, reaching for a small piece of meat hoisted above the fire with a skewer. Phillip sat on a log, gnawing on something.

At least the campfire had given a source to the crackling noise. Considering Phillip’s relaxed state, the metal clanging had probably been from something he’d done. Annibelle relaxed, letting out a small sigh of relief, and stepped out of the tent.

“Oh look,” Phillip said between bites, “The child’s awake.” He glanced at her while continuing to scarf down his meal. Annibelle just sort of stood there in silence, taking in the scene. She was a bit exhausted after having such rough sleep that night.

Anni slowly stepped outside the tent, a waft of cool morning air greeting her with the smell of fresh dew, and a rugged, smokey hint of the campfire. A dim wave of sunlight leapt over the canopy’s edge, casting a glow on the campsite’s clearing. It felt… familiar. Welcoming. One of the few things Annibelle could even try to say she recognized in this weird new world.

She stepped forth, and Phillip broke the silence. “Not very talkative today, are we?” He chuckled to himself. “Well, that’s an improvement over yesterday’s stuttering, that’s for sure,” he jeered. Anni felt her hair stand up in shame. He was right. That’s not how a hero would act.

She sat herself on the log across from him. Phillip gestured towards the campfire, vaguely waving his hand in its general direction. “Breakfast,” he stated bluntly, and resumed gnawing on his own meal.

“Is it ready yet?” Annibelle Asked.

“Hmgh?” Phillip stopped eating for a second. “Uh, probably?”

She sat there for a moment, waiting for him to check the meal. He sat there, chewing on the last of his. It was an awkward minute for Annibelle as she slowly came to terms with the fact that she wasn’t getting any better of an answer unless she asked again.

“Um- Are you- Sure?” It was a shoddy question that didn’t actually get anywhere, but Annibelle was too afraid to try anything more. All she knew was this man’s name, and what little of his personality he’d shown her before was anything but promising.

“Look, kid,” he said with a mouthful before swallowing his bite. “You can play Chef all you want,” he said, glaring her down, his arm resting on his leg as he leaned forwards with a hint of frustration. The memo was clear as Anni’s heart dropped like a rock from anxiety.

She cautiously made her way towards the campfire as Phillip went back to the last of his meal. Though he wasn’t paying her any mind, she still felt as though her every move were being judged, like an actor who forgot their lines in the middle of a show.

After grabbing the Skewer, Annibelle made her way back to the stump she seated herself on. She’d had meals cooked over campfires before, but the skewer was weird. Those were usually used by festival vendors, not camping cookware, and they usually consisted of tiny pieces of exotic fruits, not one large hunk of meat.

Oh well. However strange this all was, it was still breakfast, and her morning hunger was starting to kick in. Maybe getting a little energy in her system would make her feel better.

She bit into the meat. It was… uncomfortably stringy. Like a dying worm was being puppeteered down her throat. It was undercooked. It was uncomfortable. Some water might have helped to chase it down, though she didn’t know where any was and was too afraid to ask just yet. Annibelle swallowed the bite, knowing it would be the only one she could muster.

So much for Breakfast today.

“Slow eater, eh?” Phillip noted. Anni had been trying to chew her way through her morning meal - if you could even call it that - but she had only gotten halfway through her food. She was getting used to the texture, but that didn’t make it magically easier to stomach. It was all the food Anni was going to get for now, though, so she pushed on. 

She didn’t speak, as doing so while chewing was rude, but even if she didn’t have anything in her mouth, Annibelle wasn’t sure she would have responded. Not that it seemed Phillip wanted a response, anyways, as he reached into his backpack and started rummaging for something. His arms and head dove in deep, deeper than should have been possible, before suddenly popping back out to stare Annibelle down.

“Oh yeah, before you ask, Horokai’s just out to find you a Void Pack.” He patted his backpack. “Means more storage, and less need to swindle merchants or steal from a world on the brink.”

Annibelle had never heard of a “void pack”, but it became clear to her as Phillip dived back into his bag what he really meant.  She’d heard of these portable alternate realities, and even used some in her classes - They were perfect for containing cursed or volatile items - but they were rare, often flaunted by the rich as a show of their status, and hardly used with their actual purpose. Anni, however, knew them by a different name -

“A Hemlay?” she asked.

Phillip groaned, his voice echoing from within the bag. “Oh great, Rathead’s already told you the weird way of saying it.”

“I’ve… Only ever heard them called hemlays…” Annibelle replied.

“Well, you’re weird,” he said, pulling out a book and quill from his bag. “Not that that’s news, considering the rest of your town.”

“Wh-When will Horokai be back?” Anni tried to brush the insult away.

Phillip flipped open the book. “Uhhh, I dunno. Two days if we’re lucky, next month if we’re not.”

“Um-” Annibelle was confused. Hemlays weren’t that rare, were they? Maybe the bigger ones were, since those were the real ways to flaunt implied wealth, but a small bag was common enough that almost every town had at least one for sale. “Would it really take that long to find a small hemlay?”

“Void bag,” Phillip muttered, tapping the page of the book with his quill, now inked. “Sure, a bag’s easy to come by, but Horokai wanted a pack.” He started scrawling on the page. “Yknow, like a uh, backpack or whatever. One of those. And that wasn’t enough.” He paused, turning the page. “She insisted on finding someone who could make you a custom fit.

His eyes, still focused on his writing, narrowed. “I, for one, suggested we not waste our time with that,” Phillip rolled his eyes, “but I guess she knows what the hell we’re doing, and she’s got the final say in this stupid thing.” He closed the book and tossed it back in his hemlay. “Whatever. Not MY void pack, and not my guy to hunt.”

The last statement struck Annibelle as odd. “Guy to hunt?” She took another bite of her breakfast, hoping for this one to be different, only to be met with disappointment.

“Eh, doesn’t really matter.” He stood up. “Considering this world-ending craze, I’d be surprised if the guy’s even alive at this point.”

“I- but why… Hunt him?”

Phillip sighed, slinging his backpack over his arm. “Look, kid. She knows, I don’t. You don’t. Doesn’t matter.” He started walking towards the tent. “We got camp to clean up and places to be.” He looked back at her over his shoulder, piercing into her soul with his stare. “So don’t waste my time.”

Annibelle shut up.

Beyond the campsite, the day was uneventful. Phillip led the way as they traversed the woods, trudging down the winding gravel paths, hoping to stumble across something more substantial than a lone signpost. With every step, Annibelle’s hopes of finding a town drained as the paths waltzed on through the forest, as though someone set them up specifically to spite her.

It didn’t help that breakfast was so unsubstantial, and she wasn’t used to so much walking. Her legs ached as much as her stomach, though at least she got much needed rests as Phillip occasionally stopped to take note of another thing in his book, even if only for a minute or two.

Unfortunately, the pauses didn’t do anything to help her growing appetite, nor her fear of the startling noises coming from the forest. Every falling rock, every rustled leaf, every gust of wind put Annibelle on-edge. Phillip didn’t seem to pay any mind, and considering his experience, there probably wasn’t anything to be afraid of. She tried her best to set aside her fears.

Annibelle had learned something that day. The words “uneventful” and “good” are not mutual.

As the sunset began to light the sky with its dreamy mango-like tones, Phillip ordered her to set up camp for the night, and disappeared into the woods. While it was some respite from his worryingly strict silence, and it would’ve been a great opportunity to rest, Annibelle didn’t dare to fail the job by giving in to her exhaustion. At least she knew how to do everything, having taken a survival 25s class before.

Phillip returned long before she had finished setting up camp. Good thing the 25s taught her to light the fire first, as he pulled a deer out of his Hemlay and strung it up over the fire without a single comment or complaint. In fact, he helped her finish setting up the tent, though it wasn’t clear if he was staving off boredom while the deer cooked or was frustrated with the fact she hadn’t finished already. 

The deer was fine. Could have been better if she took the time to prepare it, but Annibelle was too exhausted to push past Phillip, and even if she could, she probably wouldn’t have cooked it much better in her tired state. At least it was a filling meal, and this time, Phillip had got some water for her. It wasn’t much water, but hey, it was something.

Once dinner was done, Annibelle headed straight for bed. Her sleeping bag was uncomfortable, but it didn’t matter. She was ready for some much-needed sleep after such a long, grueling day of nothing but walking. Her aching body was grateful, but her mind wasn’t so pleasant tonight. As she fell asleep, yesterday’s nightmares returned in full force with a punch-to-the-gut kind of question her subconscious would dwell on through her dreams.

“Is mom okay?”

Annibelle knew the answer. She didn’t want to.

Annibelle shot up, woken by a sudden crashing noise. She had just been dreaming of her mother cooking breakfast, and, well, that’s sure what the crashing sounded like - a certain someone screwing up the pots and pans. She glanced around, trying to find the source of the noise. There wasn’t much natural light - it must have only barely been morning by now, if you could even call it that - but she didn’t have the time to really make out her surroundings.

Phillip’s hand clasped over her mouth. This startled her, at first for why he would do such a thing, but then for the look on his face. He wasn’t paying attention to her. He wasn’t even looking at her. He pointed vaguely towards the tent flap, but Annibelle couldn’t spot what he was so concerned by. There was nothing but the campfire’s ash pit out there.

And then she saw it. A paw. It was hard to see in the darkness, but she slowly adjusted and could barely make out the silhouette of a bear as it lumbered around the campsite, clawing the ground for… something.

Phillip silently unsheathed his sword, getting ready to strike the bear, but before he could fully get up and ready, the noises stopped, and the shadow disappeared. He still got up, and with a silent swipe, struck out into the dim campsite. It was a tense few seconds, doused in silence and shadow.

It was soon broken by Phillip’s voice as he re-entered the tent. “It’s gone, kid.” Anni let out a sigh of relief as he reached for a small storm lantern. He held it up, flameless, and looked at Annibelle expectantly. “You know magic, right?”

“Um… Yeah?” she responded.

“You light it, then.”

She didn’t know all there was to magic, but even if her survival 25s training hadn’t taught her the basics on starting a fire, she was a sparkmage. All she needed to do was focus a little bit of her electrical powers to create some concentrated heat, and bam; within around fifteen seconds, the lamp lit up the whole room with a flickering, vibrant orange.

Phillip headed outside without a word, taking the lamp with him. His silhouette painted the tent flap in a crisp, clear outline. Annibelle got out of her sleeping bag, rubbed her eyes, grabbed her belongings and headed outside after Phillip.

The campsite was a wreck, with everything thrown around like an accountant had lost their papers right as the tax collector knocked on their door. The firepit was spread out, the logs they had used as benches were overturned, and the Hemlay was wide open, with clothes, papers, and tools scattered around it. Phillip slowly approached, leaned down, and peered in.

After a few seconds, he let out a sigh. “You know, I had a second deer lined up for today’s meals,” he said, gritting his teeth in frustration, “But it looks like that thing’s changed plans for breakfast today.” He stood up and started walking for the tent again. “I hope you know how to hunt, kid.”

“I can trap rabbits, sir.” It was a skill she barely remembered by now - and wasn’t sure if she knew the right order of every step - but it was what she did know, and was worth a shot nonetheless.

Phillip glared at her as he marched past her to get to the tent. “We’ve got two mouths to feed, kid. Rabbit ain’t gonna cut it.”

Anni had no further ideas. “Um… What do we do, then?”

Phillip stopped in the tent flap. “Well, there’s a bear with our breakfast out there. Why don’t we go… Persuade him to give it back?”

She should’ve protested. She really should’ve. But the time had come and gone, and they were far too deep into the trail to give up now. It had been, what, fifteen minutes since they started? Phillip was doing a good job of tracking down the bear; at least, based on what little Annibelle remembered on tracking animals, and what little she could see in the rising dawn.

But a bear? Really? Sure, it had stolen their food, but why not go after something… safer? Simpler? Another deer, perhaps? Hell, even trapping rabbits would have been easier, even if they needed to trap twenty for the day and even if she didn’t remember how to do it.

It was a long shot, but maybe he would still listen?

“You know, I think-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Phillip shushed her, peering through the bushes. “There it is,” he whispered, gesturing for Annibelle to approach and look for herself. Lo and behold, there it was, chewing away on the deer’s lifeless body.

“I’ll deal with him,” Phillip said, standing up. “You cause a distraction if things go south.”

“I could-” Annibelle started instinctively saying something, but stopped herself. She didn’t need to complicate the situation any further. Phillip had it under control.

But he took notice, crouching back down. “Could what, kid?”

“I-” there was no backing down now. “I could kill it, sir,” she said softly, trying not to alert the bear.

Phillip’s face said it all: unamused doubt. “Considering your last tussle with one of these, kid… You know what? I’d love to see your best go at it.” He sat back down, expectantly looking at her.

Annibelle wasn’t ready for this. She shouldn’t have said anything. It would have been done in a moment had she just let Phillip do his thing. It wasn’t raining, making her plan much harder, but there was at least a cloud in the sky so she wouldn’t completely exhaust herself. It definitely wouldn’t be a pleasant experience either way, but with Phillip breathing down her neck she had to do it.

The bear was hardly moving. The cloud was in position. It was time to act. Closing her eyes as to not blind herself, Anni cast herself into the earth and into the sky. She couldn’t see it, but she could sure hear it. The roaring thunder rolled over her like a dust storm on an open field, echoing off the distant hills as she channeled lightning through bear and into the heavens.

Or, well, the sounds echoed through her, as Annibelle’s body ached from top to bottom and a painful ringing took over her ears. Maybe that was from the lightning. Maybe the thunder. Maybe from overexerting herself. She had remembered to close her eyes, but her failure to cover her ears and stand back from the blast hurt far more than she first planned.

Her head was violently spinning as she opened her eyes. There was some good news; the bear was lying on its side. It was hard to tell if it was truly dead or not, as the movements could be some last pulses through its muscles, a hallucination, or a big problem, but Phillip’s sword being stuck through its head made its fate pretty clear. He stood there, one hand on his hilt, the other on his head as though to keep a migraine at bay.

Annibelle lay down, looking at the canopy, waiting for it to stop shifting about so much. “Water,” she said instinctively, not hearing her own voice. Lightning requires something to help it connect with the ground, and the best way is raindrops. On a bad day, though, the human body happens to have more than enough water to conduct such strong electricity, but any caster needs to stay well hydrated after exhausting themselves from a lightning strike, whether successful or not.

Phillip obliged, handing her his water bottle. She was able to mutter a quick “thank you” before chugging down as much as she could. Her lack of breakfast and any drink that would come with it compounded her thirst. Once the ringing subsided, the world finished spinning, and her thirst was quenched, Phillip addressed her.

“I got two things to tell ya, kid.” He pulled his sword out of the bear and turned towards her. “One, that was pretty damn impressive.” He kneeled down, getting face to face with Annibelle. “Two, don’t you dare do that again so close.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Heart Still Beating - 2 | Lloyd

Character: Lloyd Hansen x Female!Reader

Summary: After the heart transplant, Lloyd, the heartless killer, started to feel something—something unexpected and powerful that was tied to the fiancé of the heart’s donor.

Words Count : 2916

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , End

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Lloyd���s heart suddenly thundered, then clenched painfully. “Urgh!” He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to catch his breath, but as he reached for the wall to steady himself, he slipped. Just before he fell, you caught him, one hand resting firmly against his chest. The pain subsided instantly, like his new heart had quieted under your touch.

He cursed under his breath. Why did the pain vanish when she touched his chest? Was it because of the memories of the heart's previous owner?

It reminded him of a colleague who could only fall asleep after hearing bedtime stories from a woman.

“Damn it,” he muttered, glancing away. “This heart’s making me weak. I can’t even kill anymore.” His voice was bitter, almost disgusted.

This is the first time you hear this kind of problem. Your eyebrows rose, taken aback by his words. "Are you actually saying the heart is stopping you from… killing people?”

Lloyd gave a short, dry laugh, his gaze darkening as he glared at you. “What, you think I asked for this? Your precious fiancé’s heart is in my chest, and it’s ruining me.” He sneered, “Must feel great for you, knowing he’s stuck here, with someone like me.”

Your jaw clenched, pain flashing in your eyes. “How dare you? You don’t deserve his heart. He was—”

Another sharp, pulsing pain hit him, cutting you off as Lloyd’s hand shot to his chest, wincing. “Urgh…” His expression shifted, as if he’d only just realized something. “Fine… fine,” he murmured, almost to himself, forcing his breath steady. “I’ll keep my mouth shut, alright? No more nasty words to her.”

Your eyes narrowed, bewildered. “Are you… talking to yourself?”

Lloyd’s gaze snapped back to you, rolling his eyes. “Think what you want.” Without warning, he took your hand and pressed it over his heart, his gaze unyielding. “Feel that? It’s your fiancé’s heart, beating. For you.”

You froze, your breath catching as you felt the steady thud against your palm. “Justin?” you whispered, tears threatening to spill.

Lloyd’s bitter expression softened as he watched you, something strange and unrecognizable creeping into his eyes. This unwanted melancholy clawed at him, a feeling he’d tried to bury.

You withdrew your hand, blinking back tears as you cleared your throat. “Come in.”

As he walked into your apartment, his eyes fell on the stacks of boxes lining the walls. Fragments of another man’s life, packed away, waiting for their final rest. He picked up a framed photograph: you and a man, both smiling against a backdrop of starlit skies. Justin.

Suddenly, an image flashed in his mind, clear and insistent. He whispered, “Luna.”

Your gaze snapped to him, voice tense. “Why did you say that name?”

He set down the photo, his face unreadable. “I… heard it. In a dream.” His brow furrowed, piecing it together. “It’s what you wanted to name… your baby, isn’t it?”

You glanced down, your hand moving instinctively to your belly as you whispered, “It is. He chose it when we found out she’d be a girl.” Your voice shook as you continued, “If it weren’t for that accident… he’d still be here.”

The mention of the accident sent a dull ache through Lloyd’s chest, something raw yet strangely familiar, though not as sharp as before.

“How did you even find out I was the… patient?” he asked, keeping his tone steady. As a covert agent, he wasn’t easy to track. His life, his work—it all existed in the shadows, far from public records.

Your expression hardened. “I bribed someone at the hospital for the information.” You held his gaze, unflinching.

Lloyd’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise breaking through his hardened demeanor. Maybe you weren’t as innocent as you appeared after all.

After bribing for information, you found yourself following Carmichael, though he didn’t notice right away. When you finally confronted him, the sight of you—especially with your pregnant belly—caught him completely off guard.

Flustered and visibly unsettled, he tried to shake you off, but you raised your voice, not backing down, drawing the attention of several tall, intimidating figures nearby. They were built like Lloyd, all sharp eyes and stone expressions, now watching you with interest.

Finally, one of them approached. “Madam, please come inside.”

He escorted you into the building, leading you through grand halls lined with marble columns and ancient statues, giving the place a regal, castle-like feel. You were taken to a dimly lit room where an elderly man sat, his eyes scanning you from head to toe before shifting to Carmichael with a steely gaze. “Take her to him.”

When you recounted the encounter to Lloyd, he seemed genuinely shocked. “You met the boss?”

You shrugged, a faint smirk at his surprise. “Guess he got sentimental. Something about seeing a single mother… reminded him of his own upbringing.”

Lloyd scoffed, shaking his head. “Old man’s gone soft, I swear.”

Your gaze hardened as you looked at him, “You… you’ve got a second chance here. Don’t waste his heart—it’s not just some toy.”

Lloyd scoffed, shrugging. “What, so I’m supposed to be grateful now?”

Without responding, he turned toward the door, only to pause. His hand froze in mid-reach. You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Shh. It's to quiet.” He raised a finger, then his eyes widened. “Get down!” In one swift move, he yanked you to the floor, shielding you behind a couch, one arm protectively covering your stomach.

A faint breeze brushed past your neck, and with horror, you realized it wasn’t the wind but a bullet—whizzing inches from where you’d been standing.

Lloyd glanced at you, voice urgent. “You’ve got three minutes to hide. Can you get to your room?”

“Y-yeah?” you stammered, caught off guard.

“Good. Move,” he instructed, drawing his gun. You scrambled to your feet, clutching your belly, and darted towards your room.

“Stay put until I say so. Here.” He tossed a phone to you. “Hit number one—they’ll know what it means.”

Heart racing, you fled into the closet, squeezing yourself inside as you dialed the number, hands shaking.

From outside, muffled sounds of movement and sharp, metallic clicks told you the danger was still near. You held your breath as you listened, praying for silence to mean safety.

Meanwhile, Lloyd braced himself, greeting his would-be attackers with a cold, calculating stare. Five men stood before him, poised and armed. “Who sent you?” he demanded.

One of them smirked. “Not your concern.”

They moved in, circling him. Lloyd flexed his grip on his gun, his gaze hard and unyielding. As they lunged, he met them with ruthless efficiency, each blow calculated and relentless. Outnumbered five to one, they clearly underestimated him. He was brutal, merciless, and unrelenting, disarming them one by one.

Yet as they fought, he noticed something strange. They avoided striking his chest, almost like they were purposefully steering clear of it. And none of them seemed eager to land a fatal blow. Why would they hold back?

Lloyd’s frustration ignited into something more—a bloodlust sharper than he’d felt in years. The thought nagged at him: was this intense desire to protect you coming from his own heart? Or Justin’s?

Under his breath, he murmured, “You really did love her, didn’t you?”

In your bedroom, you flinched at every thud and crash, fear twisting your stomach. Silence fell, the air thick with suspense. Had he survived?

Then, the door creaked open, and Lloyd appeared, smirking. “Your savior is here.”

Relief washed over you, and you rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

He extended a hand, helping you to your feet as you steadied yourself, still catching your breath. “Who were they?”

He glanced back at the empty room. The inturders has gone, his gaze dark. “I don’t know. But I know someone who does.”

💘💘💘💘

You and Lloyd now stood face-to-face with Carmichael, the man’s typically composed expression slightly fractured as he glanced between the two of you.

“Are you alright?” Carmichael directed his question to you, his eyes narrowing as if scrutinizing for signs of distress.

You exhaled, steadying yourself. “I’m fine.”

Lloyd scoffed. “Why are you asking her? I’m the one they came after.” He stepped closer, his voice darkening. “Who the hell are they? Some new group making waves?”

Adjusting his glasses, Carmichael replied, “You wouldn’t know them because they operate in an entirely different league.”

“The upper world?” Lloyd’s voice held a dangerous edge.

Carmichael nodded.

“What does that mean?” you asked, casting a nervous glance at Lloyd.

Lloyd didn’t want to tell you, but because of this damn heart he had, he felt compelled to share everything. “To make it simple, my job is in the underworld. I handle deeper, darker things than you could ever imagine. Meanwhile, the upper world is like kindergarten—mafia, gangsters, that kind of people.”

You swallowed, a chill creeping up your spine. “But mafias are still dangerous for people like me.”

Carmichael nodded in agreement. “She’s right. It’s a very real danger for her.” He turned to Lloyd, a strange resignation in his eyes. “They’re Mafia.”

Lloyd’s brow furrowed, a glint of anger flashing across his face. “I’ve got nothing to do with them.”

Carmichael held his silence a beat longer than usual, then said, “What they want is your heart.”

The words hit both you and Lloyd like a bullet. Your eyes widened as you exchanged looks, Lloyd’s jaw going rigid. He scoffed, disbelief giving way to anger. “What makes this heart so special?”

“Their leader needs it,” Carmichael explained, retrieving a file. He opened it, laying down a profile with a photo labeled Mr. Cicadas.

“This group,” he continued, “is an alliance between the Italian and Japanese mafias. And this man—Mr. Cicadas—is the head. The only donor who’s a 100% match is…” He paused, glancing at you with a rare hint of sympathy.

“Justin…” you murmured, your face going pale as the truth clawed its way to the surface. Lloyd saw the shock draining the color from your face and wrapped a steadying arm around you.

Lloyd’s tone was grim. “Let me guess. This heart was meant for him. But you gave it to me. Why?”

Carmichael met his gaze. “Our motto is clear: ‘Kill one person to save millions.’”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms with a half-smirk. “So, you wanted this insect guy dead—that’s why I got the heart instead?”

You never imagined your fiancé’s heart could hold such value. “Was that man really so evil?”

Carmichael nodded. “He doesn’t deserve to live. It’s a long story, but let’s just say that your fiancé was too good a man to lose his life to someone like Mr. Cicadas.”

On that day, three people were dying: Mr. Cicadas, who would do anything to stay alive; Justin, who was succumbing to his injuries from the accident; and Lloyd, who had been shot through the heart, unexpectedly accepting his fate. Three dying individuals connected by the same match of a heart.

But for Justin, there was no hope. In his final moments, he wished to donate his organs to help another, embodying a selfless desire to save a life.

Yet there was only one heart for two desperate souls. A heart is incredibly precious to anyone fighting for survival, and Mr. Cicadas didn’t deserve it. The choice became clear: it had to be Lloyd.

You felt your anger rise, bitter words forming before you could stop yourself. “And yet, how is he,” you gestured at Lloyd, “any better?”

“At least he wasn’t the reason your fiancé died.” Carmichael’s words hung in the air, like an accusation you could barely process.

“What?” Your voice cracked. “What did you just say?”

Carmichael’s jaw tensed. “Mr. Cicadas needed a transplant urgently, and your fiancé was the best match—healthy, young, and alive.” He trailed off as he saw the shock turn your expression hollow. “The car accident was planned.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a dark shroud. Your hands instinctively wrapped around your belly as the realization hit: Justin hadn’t died because of some unavoidable tragedy—he’d been hunted, killed, because of someone greeds. You felt the hot sting of tears, your voice quivering with grief. “He didn’t deserve any of this…”

Lloyd, sensing the pain radiating from you, placed a steady hand on your back, his own gaze shadowed by a strange sorrow that he’d not felt in a long time.

“They want it back now,” Lloyd muttered, a dangerous calm settling in his tone.

Carmichael’s mask slipped, revealing a flicker of rage. “That monster should have died when he failed to receive it. But the bastard’s still alive.”

Lloyd looked over in surprise; he’d never heard Carmichael curse, not with this level of disgust. It was clear Mr. Cicadas was worse than he’d imagined, a man who even the darkest operatives wanted dead.

His voice hardened, a quiet resolve in his words. “I have to stay alive, then.”

Carmichael stepped forward, voice low but firm, eyes blazing with determination. “Our boss left one message for you: ‘Do whatever is necessary to stay alive.’”

You gripped your stomach, thinking of Justin. Memories flashed—his warmth, his laugh. His life had been ripped from him, all to satisfy the greed of a man who, by all rights, should have been six feet under. Tears slipped down your cheeks as the truth sunk in, the ache of his loss twisting your heart in ways that words couldn’t convey.

Author's note: I put an Easter egg in this. Do you know which paragraph? 🤭

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[deathbyoctopi]

Xuexiao Art Shoutout ^-^

It will be soon 2 years since I asked for my first art commission ever, after months of wanting to do so, but being deathly scared by it.

What if I ask it wrong, what if I don't like it, what if I pay but then it is a scam, what if it's too expensive and I have to back away in shame, what IF these are all my fears and I didn't even know any reliable artists or had asked any mutuals for tips or recs.

What motivated me for the big step forward was me writing a gift fic for someone very dear to me, which featured a piece of art within the story itself. It seemed so fitting, to make art for it. I held my heart in courage and dared to ask an artist I had seen here, in tumblr.

This artist was @wrathyforest.

Now, I don't remember anymore why I choose them. Probably I saw some xuexiao fanart by them that I liked, or saw somewhere that they were available for commissions, but the thing is with trembling hands I wrote a long dm asking about whether they would accept to draw an art such and such. This turned out to be one of the best decisions I have ever made in this website.

For the last two years, I've had the privilege of receiving more artwork by them, all xuexiao (because my BELOVEDS!!!) and all of exceptional quality and deep understanding of the characters. This is why now I want to make a little shoutout to these works, and to the process that went into asking them, in part to show other people how engaging, fascinating and rewarding it is to commission artist.

This is (with ONE exception) my little xuexiao art collection. Have at it!

Family portrait

My first art commission ever. My heart goes with it! This is the aforementioned art for the fic To carry a bit of yesterday, written for @itellmyselfsecrets97 and which features the Yi City trio going to make a portrait of themselves.

This was also very special to me, since it was only my second xuexiao fic ever written, and the first that was a self-contained oneshot. It must have left an impact, it remains a well-loved fic to the point that a fic was written from it (The Tell-Tale Art by @fieri-sentio-et-excrucior).

I explained the artist what I needed from it, gave the full paragraph in the fic where they were described, and pointed out little details to adjust once the first draft was show to me (Forest, forgive me for being so picky with Xiao Xingchen's legs). I cried with the results.

My second commission came a few months later, with a pic for another work of art...

Defenseless

Now that I see you is an amazing fic by @10holmes with the incredibly exciting premise of a non-visually impaired Xiao Xingchen coming across Xue Yang, on the brink of death and... completely honest-to-god amnesiac.

I had followed this long project (still ongoing) for months, and had left some comments to the author, but at some point this sparse comments became a conversation, and the conversation a deep friendship... And there was a specific bit of their fic that remains one of my absolute favourite non-canon xuexiao moments.

Cue the art. In this occasion, I really wanted to make this as accurate and true to my feelings as possible, so not only did I send a detailed explanation and context (I would NOT expect the poor artist to read 30 chapters of a fic just for a commission!!), but also I made a little sketch. Me, who can't draw a smiley without botching it!

See if you can spot the difference:

You can imagine my shame and mortification to show this horrible doodle to any other human being, BUT the artist actually said this helped a lot to understand the positions, the intention, the expressions even, so it was a good call. I lost my fear of giving directions like that, and I have more-or-less tried to for all my other asks ^-^

The end result of this particular story is this and this:

My next commission was for something a bit more selfish.

Daozhang in a veil

I had in mind a story the premise of which was purely an excuse to put Xiao Xingchen in a dress, and what better than to have visual of that? The fic is called A Comedy of Yi City Errors, a light-hearted xuexiao adventure very fun to write and (I'm told) to read.

Once more, I made quite an explanation and provided a little sketch.

ANd once again, despite the terrible example, the concept that I wanted to send was received well enough and delivering again wonderful results. Look!!! <3 <3 <3

I love them so much.

Around the same time, I decided to make two gifts for what were then becoming my closest friends in this fandom (I think that must have been around some important festival or something) so I asked for these lovely pics next:

Prisoner Xiao Xingchen

Art for the fic The Prisoner of Jinlintai by @fieri-sentio-et-excrucior, which is a treasure I recommend for anyone who loves canon divergence and enemies-to-lovers done just right!

And this:

Mermaid Hunter Xue Yang

The beautiful mermaid AU Down in the Black Sea by @10holmes, which is cute beyond compare and inspired another fic I wrote in which I brought that pirate and merman couple to sneak into Versailles. Random anecdote is random.

Anyways, this last one didn't come with a sketch, but I MUST show you my rendition of Xue Yang by the cell door for the earlier fic >w< and the first sketch they did, which is unbelievably cute. See if you can tell which is which.

See? Completely undistinguishable! XD

As for the next, this is a cute little piece I commissioned to celebrate a beautiful friendship.

Under the rain

One of the first xuexiao fics I remember reading was The Taste of Rain on Skin, and once I had the opportunity to meet its author, I could not let something so special pass. Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen look so lovely in this one, so lively and happy and free...

By the way! Notice from my sketch that the artist was the one who made me realize... uhm... Xue Yang should NOT be holding Xiao Xingchen with his left hand, right?? XD So the running direction was reversed >w<

Well, what I want to show you next is something truly exceptional

Pleasure Yang

Not long ago, i was unbelievably surprised with a gift by a group of co-conspiracists I will call... Lionforest. no... Wrathyfish. Hm. It was an amazing surprise, which made me incredibly happy. Art for one of my fics!!! And a very sexy one, at that!!!!! >w<

Just, just look a it!

Look at that cheeky Xue Yang! Xiao Xingchen's fascination with that sexy ruffian!! Song Lan's discombobulated face! This is no more, no less, what I had in mind when I wrote Gentle breeze, cold frost, sweet crimson drizzle, and I could not be happier for it if I tried.

Thank you, you two ❤️❤️

And now... the last pic was spicy. The next is Wei Wuxian-approved congee.

Ok next, the spicy goodies >w<

There is a certain piece of art I still am keeping in my pocket, which one day I hope to use for a spicy Xuexiao fic. At any rate, it is another masterpiece by Wrathyforest and it deserves to see the light of day, finally.

I swear, every time I look at them, they feel so alive. The details!!! The expressions! The obvious and wonderful love! The other things this picture has to offer, omfg the first time I saw it, it was PERFECT!!!

(before you ask, yes. This also has a sketch XD)

In conclusion

I hope you have enjoyed my little collection. Look at all the xuexiao art we have, and from one incredible talented artist. I am over the moon with every single one of these pieces!

Artists deserve so much love and admiration. Greet your local artist, comment on their content, even if it's just a random keysmash, I can tell you as a writer that seeing these kinds of notifications are soul-repairing.

And if you take the step forward and talk to them, (and you SHOULD!! don't be shy, it is really engaging to get in a conversation!), I can guarantee you that you will make a person's whole day.

This is me, showing appreciation for this lovely art. Share it, comment it, love it. The love and passion we all share in fandom is fragile, but it is also so, so precious.

[primojade]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

“ may the day where we discard all lies for good come soon. ”

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | romantic tropes that I think would fit them just right.

𝐂𝐖 / 𝐓𝐖 | gn!reader x albedo, wanderer, cyno and tighnari (separate); fluff, mild angst, pining, cursingcursing, kind of cheesy lmao; no proofread; let me know if I missed anything!

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | This is a very self indulgent fic that I thought of while writing the next chapter of fallacies of love. And yes, I finished this first before that one 🤣 btw, this may or may not have part 2 but for different characters ueue. If I find the motivation to write a continuation, that is xD

masterlist |

second chances to love

Two old friends meet again wearin' older faces. And talk about the places they've been. Two old sweethearts who fell apart somewhere long ago. How are they to know, someday they'd meet again. And have a need for more than reminiscin'.

Can two people finally find their shared happiness the second time around? Is there really a way to fully mend a heart broken by the past? Are second chances really the answer to the heartache that one carried in the present times?

Your relationship with Albedo unfortunately did not work out as you want it to, and as he put it with the Traveller, once a relationship starts to drift away, it will become bothersome. 

But can you really be blamed for why you fell for him? Albedo is a charming man, intelligent to a fault, a gentleman at heart, and your greatest source of inspiration. That's why when he started to show signs of interest in you unlike any other, you wholly welcomed it, cherished it in your heart even. The more time you spend with him, he shows you the other side of himself that he refuses to show to anyone else. The sliver of attention and dare say, love, that he shows you was enough to make your heart race. 

But alas, love alone was not enough, and you both know it—his mere attention is not enough to call…whatever this is…as "love". For only when your heart began to feel weary of his constant busy schedule that you realised that some love was not meant to hold onto. Love that could become your sweetest poison to indulge, love that will surely drift no matter how hard you hold on. And there is that kind of love that cannot be yours no matter how besotted you are.

You were tired waiting for him to decide, to pull you close to him, but when he deemed you too close, he would shoved you away. You got tired waiting for his decision to make, and in the end, it was not you. So, you did what you knew was best for the both of you. To end everything before it becomes to the point of no return.

Still, the heart is a very fickle and turbulent thing, artificial as it may, and just as love could bring you to the highest summits of happiness, Albedo found out that it could also bring you to the lowest depths of despair. For only when you were gone to his life that he realised that the love he took for granted was the one who gave him the true meaning of this world.

Shaking to the very core of his being was the ache that no alchemy nor chemical experiments could soothe, Albedo tries his best to move on, to pretend that everything is alright, pretending that all things will go back to the way it was once, but…

Maybe this time, it'll be lovin' they'll find. Maybe now they can be more than just friends. They're back in his life, and it feels so right. Maybe this time, love won't end.

But alas, time doesn't help when moving on, it does not help him heal, it only teaches him to live with the pain. Settling himself to be your friend does not cool down his flame, and when Albedo sees you smiling at him again, laughing and waiting for him, that flame burns even brighter than ever before. And this time, if he tried his best again…maybe this time, this promised love will never end.

“Maybe…maybe this time? Are you…willing to try again?" He asked, hope blooming and his artificial heart beating so fast in his chest it might as well jump to your hands and never leave again. This time…he will make sure to do everything right, and give you everything he had, this time.

“Because the only way to love someone unconditionally is to realise that it may be lost.”

friends to lovers

Do you remember when I said I'd always be there? Ever since we were ten, baby. When we were out on the playground playing pretend. Didn't know it back then.

“[Name], let's make haste. The weather today is too perfect for our weekly surveillance, and I do not trust you to not wander in the forest and accidentally poison yourself. So, you are coming with me.” 

You immediately noticed the peculiar twinkle in his bicoloured eyes, the lightest tint of pink on his cheeks, the twitch of his ears and the slight wag of his tail. All of his mannerisms are so familiar to the point that you could hear the barely concealed excitement in his usually stern tone. 

Perhaps it's because you have known him since you were both still in diapers? Tighnari has always been someone passionate at what he does, talented and smart and reliable, he was always there to help you even before you asked of him, hell, sometimes, even before you knew you yourself needed some help. He was that perceptive when it comes to you.

Even during the times he was busy with his research papers in the Akademiya, Tighnari would not hesitate to discard whatever he was doing in favour of knowing what was happening to you. He was even fussier than a mother, and would scold you harder than a father would. But as much as his lectures become weary at times, you know that it all comes with good sentiment for your well being, and for his love for you.

Love…for being his very first friend, you supposed. The very first person who saw him through all his hardships, his achievements, seeing him at his lowest and highest. It was supposed to make you feel happy and proud that he still chose you even though it felt like he became someone so…unreachable now. Capable, reliable and an akademiya scholar. And nowadays, the word 'friend' has merely brought bittersweet feelings and nostalgia to your heart.

Love…is not something he would be thinking right now. He was busy enough taking care of the forest and the former sages as it is, and professing your long-term feelings for your childhood friend was not something you would call a wise decision. You were not ready to risk your decades of friendship for something as fickle as love…

Now I realize you were the only one. It's never too late to show it. Grow old together, have feelings we had before. Back when we were so innocent. I pray for all your love. Our love is so unreal. I just wanna reach and touch you, squeeze you, somebody pinch me. This is something like a movie. And I don't know how it ends. But I fell in love with my best friend.

But even though he was supposed to have his hands full, even though you knew the right and logical actions to never disrupt the fine line between friends and lovers, the heart is not something that was meant to be repressed. Ever. 

But what it felt like endless nights of pining, of hopeless hoping, of days of being a lovestruck fool had ended when Tighnari, finally, had enough of your indecision and tiptoeing with him. There were no grand confession like what those Inazuman novels wrote in exaggeration, nor any special place he took you aside from the secret base that you two found as children before. But it felt just as special as he kissed you without reckless abandon, having exchanged the closeness of being friends, to the intimacy of being lovers, at last. 

“...If, hypothetically speaking, would you still choose to return home when I tell you that I wanted to keep you for myself?”

(denial) enemies to lovers.

I never knew life could be like this. Never thought that I would be the one that you would kiss. I never knew love could be so rough. But now I found the real thing I can't get enough.

The first time you met the General Mahamatra, you already knew that you two wouldn't get along. It's not because of his steadfast sense of justice and persistence, or the way he apprehends scholars who broke the academic rules, no, but it's because of how he glared and scowled at you worse than the criminals he set his eyes on. 

It does scare you a bit, especially when you knew to yourself that you did not do anything that would warrant his attention. Tighnari said that your research topic is safe enough, so you don't understand why…why is he so adamant at menacingly tailing you as if you didn't know he was watching you like a hawk in the library? Does he not realise that despite his short stature, ability to sneak undetected and blend in the background, he was basically standing out? And no, it's not because your eyes literally gravitate towards him and would be the first thing that you zoomed into when you knew he was nearby. It's definitely not that.

Though when you decided to bravely confront Cyno about his suspicious behaviour around you, he merely gave you a hard stare boring into your soul, scowling, before saying it's none of your business and walking off. You have never guessed the General Mahamatra is just so rude!! 

Though when you tell this discovery to Tighnari, frowning and fuming, the fennec therianthrope hide a barely concealed amused grin with a shake of his head and told you that's just the way Cyno is when he was faced with something that he didn't know how to handle and deal with…namely, his emotions and the actions that come with it. 

You decided to ignore the sly implications your friend was conveying to you, because there's just…no way that would ever happen! Though the reddening of your ears and the loud thundering of your heart didn't escape the Forest Watcher's observant eyes.

The sweetest surprise caught me tonight, right there in your eyes while I was kissing you. So don't say that you don't love, everything you dreamed of could be here.

"It isn't like what you think!" You exclaimed, defensive, eyes filled with horror as Tighnari smugly smirked at you. "I don't like the guy! He's irritating! And bossy! He's always picking on me! The only reason why I'm thinking of him is because surely, you're a lot nicer than him, unless we talk about your sass."

"Keep your reasons, [Name]." The fennec hybrid snickered when you glared at him. "I personally think you would not feel the need to compare someone to anyone if they weren't important. Really, my parents started like that."

You felt your whole face flushed in embarrassment. "Shut up. It doesn't mean—"

"Deny it as much as you like, but there's a very thin line between love and hate, you know. All those bickering, those exchanges of offending commentaries, calling each other names…" His grin turned wicked, before his eyes darted behind you. "Who knows? Perhaps you and Cyno are merely harbouring what we like to call…hmm…yes, adoration."

"The audacity! How could I adore that guy? There's no way!!" 

Perhaps it may take time. But even though you both were in deep denial, even with the thunderous lies crossing your lips and the faux masks he wore, someday…somewhere, when the time is right and when you felt a little braver, you could finally admit that you loved him too, from the very beginning.

“When you believe me when I say I disliked you, why can't you believe me all the same when I say I love you, too?”

stuck together

…And I tried to find out if this one thing is true. That I'm nothing without you. I know better now and I've had a change of heart…

Sometimes, it does get hard taking care of him, there was no doubt about that. When you accepted the job offered to you by the Dendro Archon herself of taking care and basically being a prison warden of the "false god" that tried to take over her own country, you dreadedly knew that this was not something like a walk in the park, the one-of-a-kind job that you've never handled before. 

But for the sake of not disappointing the newly-freed Archon, you tried your best to get along with your ward. He never ever told you his name, saying a lowly mortal like you doesn't deserve to know, and the few conversations you had with him were just full of insults, cruel remarks and if he's being somber enough to ignore your presence entirely, only silence remains between you two.

This same scenario had stretched over for months, and at this point, you were certain that this boy was merely testing your patience, if that annoying,  arrogant and knowing smirk was anything to go by.

Though little by little, you noticed a bit of changes in his attitude towards you. It takes a shit ton amount of time till he stop with his cutting words, and instead of calling you a 'weak worm' just like what he loves calling your fellow human beings, he would settled with 'stupid mortal' for you instead. His condescending remarks would tone down a bit as well; and at times when he feels like it, he would even answer your questions and inquiries. His good moods were literally just him allowing only you to share under the warm shade of his hat during the rainy days or when the sun is too high.

I'd rather have bad times with you, than good times with someone else. I'd rather be beside you in a storm, than safe and warm by myself. I'd rather have hard times together, than to have it easy apart. I'd rather have the one who holds my heart.

Little by little, step by step that you barely noticed it, he would allow you to see a part of himself that he locked tightly centuries ago. During the restless nights when he was visited by nightmares he long to forget, he would wordlessly seek out your company, and you knew better than to ask him and pester him what was wrong. Deep inside, when this happened, he was grateful that you didn't pry any further. 

This was a routine that you both fell comfortably with, albeit started as a weird, and exasperating one. Cutting insults slowly turned into playful bickerings, his rude name calling became a little affectionate, and sometimes, just sometimes, he would begrudgingly allow you to hold him in an embrace to keep him grounded and sane. 

There was one time that he accidentally fell asleep on you in this position, while running your fingers through his surprisingly soft and silky hair, and the dumbfounded expression on his face when he woke up leaning on you was so worth the numbness of your body the whole night. He then proceeds to threaten you to never speak of this event ever again (especially to anyone or else!) his ears turning adorably red and his face flaming with embarrassment, to your amusement.

These moments are both precious and irreplaceable to both of you, and when the time comes that he could finally find it in himself to completely trust, to trust you fully, once again…maybe it would also be the time that he would trust you with his name, at long last.

“They're the person who held me at my weakest, their eyes saw me at my darkest, and after all of that, they're the one who continued to love me at my worst.” 

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added in my future works!): @samarill , @maehemthemisfit , @chocogi , @rvoulte ...

[sunnybunnyy2]

Two Wrongs Don’t Make A Right

Daryl Dixon x platonic!reader

Negan Smith x daughter!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.0k

TIME: season 7

Warnings: imprisonment, talk of rapists(briefly), talk of murder, mentions of Abe’s and Glenn’s deaths, arguments, mentions of saviours, mentions of what transpired in season six and seven, spoiler warning and bad writing.

CHAPTER 2 of the Dark Cell series

Series Masterlist Official Masterlist

This is long awaited! I'm sorry that this has taken so long but I have been making fanfics on Wattpad recently and if you are a fellow fanfic writer you understand how much unnecessary time it takes to come up with ideas and lines to make your character come to life. Thank you all for being so patient with me! Also, requests are open, and I will be redoing my master list, so look out for that. I have been influenced so yes, this is going to become a series so stay tuned! Now that I finished this part I have more motivation to actually write for this! I’d you want to be tagged in the series let me know! Thank you so much for reading<3

(if there is third person slip ups I’m sorry, I’m just so used to writing in third person :( )

The exchanges took place every night at around 1 a.m., and it had for the past seven days.

You would arrive carrying a plate or bowl of whatever leftover food you had managed to swipe from the kitchen or some dinner from the meals you would share with Negan. 

You had aimed to make the food before you went down so that it was still hot but it was risky as, there was a large chance that one of Negan's men would notice and alert your father, which would raise suspicion. 

The food consisted of Sandwiches, chicken, pasta, fish, soup and wraps. 

You wished you could do it more often, but you knew that it would largely increase the chances of you getting caught. 

You knew your punishment wouldn't be anywhere near how severe Daryl's would be. You also knew that as much as you pleaded your father would allow his pawns to have their fun in harming the long-haired man. You weren't quite sure why your father's men were so willing to starve and beat a man senseless to appear strong. Men and their egos you supposed. 

Your father could preach all he wanted about how he would do anything for his daughter, how he would move mountains to appease you. How he would kill anyone who dared to disrespect you (he had) but yet he couldn't try and be a better man. He couldn't put his rage and grieve the wicked world had caused him and help people instead of torturing broken people and turning people who wanted to survive into heartless killers. Turn them into him. 

You couldn't say you hated your father. You never could. But that certainly didn't mean you agreed with half the things he did. 

You could tell he cared what you thought of him. You were the last thing he had of your mother, but that didn't mean he listened to you when you expressed your opinion. 

You and your father were close before all of this happened, well before you found out about his affair. After that day you hated everything about him. Even when your mother got sick and he stood by her, did everything for her. You weren't sure if it was because of how guilty he felt for betraying her or because he loved her. 

Normally you would insist on it being the first but now she was at a loss. 

Since your mother's demise, your once childish but thoughtful father had turned into a power-hungry greedy man. At first you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was grieving and was trying to find a way to cope with the loss of the woman he loved but it was as though he was forgetting that his daughter had lost her mother.

He wanted to make you happy, so he gifted you the biggest room in the sanctuary and allowed you to purchase whatever you desired without working, though you often helped with the growing crops in the back of the sanctuary. Your father never really liked the idea of her around the fence but he backed down after a heated argument between you. He did send some of his men to keep an eye on you, he tried to be discreet but his men were less than. 

You always made sure to bring a large glass of tap water from your room down to his cell, wanting to at least make sure he didn't die of dehydration. 

You knew that his physical health wasn't as bad as it was before but you knew that his mental health was still declining. He had been locked in the tiny cell for weeks on end, the only sound filling his ears was the constant lyrics of the song 'East Street'. 

The bags under his eyes were proof enough of the lack of sleep he had been receiving. The way his eyes could barely focus on one thing when you would bring him his meals was another important factor in your conclusion. 

Since your visits had become more frequent he had uttered his name quietly into the comfortable silence that had filled the cell as he hastily inhaled what was in front of him. It was so quiet that you had barely heard him, but once you realized that it wasn't your imagination you smiled softly to yourself before muttering your name as well. 

In your mind, you were friends. You knew his name, he knew yours, you would bring him food, he would be thankful and you were both the highlight of each other's day. 

Daryl- because he wasn't rapidly dropping weight as he had been before from his lack of food, which in turn kept his brain running so he could coax his thoughts into coming up with a plan to escape his captivity. Plus your company wasn't so bad he reckoned.

You- because you got to meet another survivor from a rivalling group, you had heard your father angrily ranting to his soldiers about how this mysterious group had taken out one of his many posts and killed everyone in it. 

You were shocked at how brutal this group could be but you knew that your father could be even more heartless and it was proven when a week later whispers were passed along through the sanctuary that your father had partaken in another one of his lineups and had bashed in two members of Daryl's groups heads in with Lucille. 

You knew that Daryl's group had killed countless people, saviours but at least their families and friends didn't have to see it, as apparently the people from the outpost were killed while they slept. It was a very cowardly way to kill but it was better in a way, they didn't see it coming. 

You clutched the tray of food which consisted of a slice of ham from a pig the saviours had recently slaughtered as a way to celebrate the new community they had under their control, standing with the other few that they had taken over. With a side of carrots that you had picked herself to give him some energy. 

Then finally a generous helping of mashed potatoes to fill him up, as you knew that a small sandwich was going to get him through the day. Well, you guessed it was two, as Dwight had made sure to feed him a dog food sandwich every other day to keep him going. A dark pork gravy from the brand Bisto (clubhouse is better but whatever) that was covering a large portion of the potatoes. Your father did always say that you made it taste even better when you made it.

Your eyes peeked around the sharp corner to make sure Arat was on her way to her break that she always made sure to hide, always quick on her feet to head to her room to get several strong minutes of shut-eye. 

Your eyes caught sight of Arat quietly creeping her way further and further away from Daryl's new home. You waited a couple of minutes until you were sure she was in her room, possibly already captivated by sleep. You placed one foot in front of the other as you too, crept down the hallway, the fear of getting caught burning fear into her veins.

You balanced the tray on one hand as you reached into your left pocket, to pull out the cell key that you had stolen from Laura, well it wasn't quite stealing, she had dropped it and hadn't even noticed. You could still remember her confused face when she caught you on the ground after catching you mid-grab. You smiled at her and played it off as if you were tying your shoe, which she bought as she shot you a smile and continued on with her ranting. 

You turned the key clockwise into the rusting metal, smiling in satisfaction when the lock clicked quietly as a sign that it was now unlocked.

The creak that was loudly pulled from the door as it was opened left you cringing as you quickly shuffled into the room, closing the door until there was only a fragment of it for a little bit of light but it wasn't large enough to draw suspicion towards your meetings. 

You could already see Daryl gazing up at you as you pulled the door closed, before lowering yourself to the floor, holding your hands out as a sign for him to take the plate which he did. He had loosened up a large amount since you had started being him food a week ago. 

He was still stand-offish and didn't like to talk about his group which you didn't blame him for, you were with the enemy, you were his daughter. You weren't sure if he knew of your status at the sanctuary but if he did, it didn't come from you. It had already taken a great amount of effort to gain his trust and you wouldn't want it broken just because of who your father was. 

If he brought it up, you would talk to him about it, but for now, you didn't want to risk losing one of the only people that didn't just suck up to you because they wanted more points or because they were scared to face your father's wrath if they hurt your feelings. 

"Hey, sorry I was late, Arat took longer than usual to hit the deck." You quickly explained as expected the food in a curious glint in his eyes. "It's ham. Sorry, I didn't know if you liked it but they just killed a pig and me and my-... I had some for dinner earlier, it was good... and there's potatoes obviously, there's some cheese in them too with carrots and gravy." His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you in question just as he had been since you had almost slipped up. "Don't worry, it's not poisoned well... at least I hope it isn't because I ate the same thing but I guess we'll find out."

He let a harsh breath out of his nose that sounded similar to a laugh before he picked up the metal fork before shoving a large bite of potatoes in his mouth, a barely audible groan fell from his lips as he continued to inhale the food, not even bothering to use the knife that you had brought to cut the meat, opting to just pick it up with his hands. 

If it was anyone else you would find the wild eating disgusting, but you understood. He was being starved as a torture method to force him into submission. You had seen this countless times, but nearly all had caved within the first few days. It was shocking to you how strong he was. If it had been you... you weren't sure how long you could last if you were in the same position. 

From how wild he was eating you could only assume today wasn't the day he got fed from Dwight. 

You assumed you did well with the amount of food you had given him. 

You kept your eyes trained on the opened part of the door to make sure the coast was clear still. Normally this side of the sanctuary was almost always deserted, but since Daryl as been held here, you had noticed a lot of working people wanted to catch a glimpse of one of the Alexandrians who had killed numerous soldiers. You weren't sure if was from fear or awe. 

"Why are you doing this." He asked as he looked up from his half-eaten plate of food, to examine you while you spoke as if to see if you would lie to him. 

"I don't like how he's handing this. I mean... what your group did was wrong. Really wrong. But what he's doing to you isn't right. No one should have to deal with this. I mean other than rapists, pedophiles, or child killers. I mean murder is really bad but there are some ways to excuse it, like self-defence but I mean the worlds over. People kill each other every day to survive. Don't make it right but it makes sense. You did what you thought you had to, to 'save' your group." You ranted slightly as you looked down.

"So you're doing this because I deserve better?" Daryl asked with a quiet snort as though he couldn't fathom the thought of someone actually thinking he was a decent guy. 

"Everyone deserves better in some way. But no, some people just need a little help sometimes. You do, so I'm trying to help you." You said as watched him proceed with eating.

He looked up at you after he took yet another bite of his food. "I ain't need no help." He dismissed with a huff as he finished the last of his food.

"Obviously you do. Everybody does. You're no exception." You disagreed as he watched for any signs of Arat possibly returning earlier than usual.

"So why ya helping me? I'm sure the big man has more bitchs." He all but growled as he thought about your father causing your face to drop slightly as he kept your eyes away from him, in hopes of him not being able to see your full life story from just the shine in your eyes. Daryl looked like the type to be able to, you thought.

"He has some other... people in cells-" You were cut off by Daryl as he let out a dangerous scoff that should have had you scared. You were in a closed space with someone who wanted your father dead, I mean sure he didn't know that you and the man he hated most shared the same blood but it didn't matter. You were a Smith and that would never change. No matter how much you hoped and prayed that your father would suddenly turn a new leaf, it never seemed to happen. So at some point, you just saved your previously wasted breath. 

"Ya mean prisoners?" He spoke sharply, his words not a question but a statement, showcasing how enraged he truly was with her father. 

"Yeah...prisoners. There is some down here, yes. But they deserve it." You said while shaking your head as you thought about the awful people that were locked down here.

"Ain't nobody deserve this shit." He said with his whole chest as his eyes scanned your face with a mixture of hate and disgust at your words. You couldn't blame him though, he was locked in a cell and you had just said that the people locked in them deserved it. 

"They're awful people. Rapists, child killers, people who kill without reason-"

"I ain't no rapist and I ain't no child killers. Me and my people had every righ-"

"Nobody has a right to take someone's life. Who made us god? When did we get to choose who got to live and who got to die?" You argued as you furrowed your brows at the man's words.

"How bout' ya tell yer buddy that? He killed my friends." He raised his voice louder than necessary which earned him a dirty look from you as you peeked out of the sliver of the door that shined light into the cell and once you were sure no one was coming with guns raised you turned back to face him. 

"You killed dozens of his men while they were sleeping. You do realize that, right? I'm not saying what he did was right either, but you're lucky he didn't kill more of your people." You ranted slightly as you looked at him in confusion, he was so stuck in his own misery that he wasn't thinking about how other people were affected by his and his group's actions. 

"Lucky? He bashed my friend's heads in." He said angrily but it was quiet. As if trying to scare you into submission but you didn't back down.

"And I'm sorry for your friends. I really am. But you couldn't have thought that your group could get away with slaughtering- and it was a slaughtering,  his men and get away scot-free. You killed his soldiers. He takes that shit as a personal attack. So when I say I'm surprised he didn't kill more of you I mean it." 

"One of my friends' wives was pregnant' ya think she deserved ta see that? Now tha' kid's gonna grow up without a father."

"Of course not. That's awful and I'm so sorry...but some of the men and women you slaughtered had kids. Wives. Parents. They had people who loved them too. One of the men, Mike, had a pregnant wife at one of the other outposts. She was eight months and gave birth to her baby girl two days after he died. Alone. And a woman, Mel, just got married to the man she loved, they were trying for a baby... He killed himself last week. Hung himself in his room all alone." You paused for a moment to see if he was going to speak up but when he didn't, you continued.

"An-and a woman named Willow had a baby at another outpost. Now that baby has to grow up without a mother. Another man named Carlos was an only child and had to work for points to provide for his parents. They're old and can't do it themselves. Now they're barely eating and are so depressed that their health is deteriorating, we're not sure how long they have left. So I'm sorry that your friends lost people they cared about but you didn't just get your group hurt with your guy's actions. You guys ruined so many lives that night." 

You finished your rant as you shook your head, looking up at him only to see him looking down at his hands, his overgrown hair hung low to cover his eyes, masking his true reaction.

"I'm not trying to say that your friends' deaths don't matter but you can't just go around acting like you didn't kill people either. Like everyone else's pain doesn't matter to not feel guilty. But it does." You said quietly before deciding you had spent long enough in the stuffy cell. You reached over, grabbing the plate from in front of him before pulling yourself to your feet. You waited for him to speak again but he didn't bother and once you turned around he noticed that he hadn't moved from his place. 

"Good night." You shook your head before he pulled the creaky door open a little more so the gap was large enough to fit your body through, closing it until you felt the metal clank quietly against metal. 

You pulled out the key and shoved it into the lock, twisting it quickly before you heard quiet footsteps walking down the hallway from where Arat had left from. It seemed like you had left at the perfect time, you supposed.

You quietly but hastily quickened your pace until you were at the same corner you had looked over from around fifteen minutes prior. 

You watched as Arat ran a hand over her short black and bleached blonde hair as she let out a yawn, swaying on her feet slightly from the over-tiredness she was experiencing, which was probably in full swing by the shortness of her sleep. 

You let out a quiet sigh of relief before you quietly made your way in the direction of her room, the plate held tightly in your grasp as you walked past the mostly deserted sanctuary, sending a small smile to some of the saviours on watch duty. Most sent one back your way, while others seemed annoyed at the fact that they had duty at all, leaving them too aggravated to bother.

You were about to turn the handle of your door when you heard a voice stop you.

"Baby? What are you doin' up? It's late." Your father's voice stopped you in your tracks. A part of you wanted to run into your room and pretend that you had been sleepwalking but you knew your father knew you better than that and could almost always tell when you were fake sleeping. It was an odd talent if you were to be frank. So you turned around with a smile and spoke.

"I couldn't sleep. Decided to take a walk." You lied.

"With an empty plate of food?" He asked with raised eyebrows a sarcastic smirk on his face.

"...I got hungry on the way. Just heated up some leftovers from dinner. Didn't know that was a crime, Dad." You huffed in an attempt to sound believable.

"It's late. You could have woken me up. I would have walked with you." He said as he studied you. 

"Seriously, dad? Literal armed guards are crawling the place. I think I'm okay walking to the kitchen. Plus you barely sleep as it is." You rolled your eyes at his mindset.

"I always have time for you, hunny... so who's the boy? Or girl. I don't discriminate. Hell, ya could be in love with a goddamn pumpkin and I would still approve. Maybe a little weirded out but hey, we all have our kinks." He smirked but his nose scrunched up slightly as he realized he was talking to his daughter and not one of his henchmen. 

"Oh, wow, you figured it out. His name is Donteatmyseedsplease. I didn't want to keep it from you but I don't think you would approve. I'm so very glad I have your support, father dearest." You said in an overly happy voice even your eyes rolled with almost every word you spoke. You turned back to your door and turned ten knob, not going in as though to not give your father the opportunity to join you.

"You'll have to bring him over for dinner sometime we'll have squash." 

"That wasn't funny Dad." 

"Damn, you know how to wound a man's ego. Good girl, I taught you well." He said in a proud tone.

"I'm exhausted. Can we talk tomorrow? I wanted to talk to you about something actually..." You spoke as you pushed your door open even wider than it had been and started to make her way into your large room.

"That's never good." He groaned before he leaned over to land a kiss atop your head. "I'll see you tomorrow, baby. I'm busy but I always have time for you." He pulled away and sent a smile your way which you returned before closing the door and leaning against it. A sigh of relief left your lips as you realized you were in the clear.

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[maverick-wingman]

Broken Skies (Bradley Bradshaw x Mitchell! Reader) Chapter 1

Note: I apologize for the long long wait. I was really lacking motivation and just on a long writer's block for the past few months. But here is Chapter 1 for Broken Skies. The Sneak Peak is linked below for those that have not read it yet. And also thank you @justabigassnerd and @callsign-dexter for motivating me to write more! ❤️

This is a redo of my Bradley Bradshaw Part 1. This is more of a prequel rather than a sneak peek this time. Mel - “one who is fearless and daring.” Canon characters are out of character. Iceman will be healthy in this fic. 

Warnings: Nothing big, maybe angst, other than a brief mention of death, and military inaccuracies. NOT grammar/spelling checked. Some switching between first names and callsigns.

Masterlist | Sneak Peek | Chapter 1

In the room with Cyclone and Warlock, Maverick looked at the screen and saw 2 very familiar faces. Cyclone looked at Maverick and asked, “Is there a problem, Captain?” Maverick looks at him, “You know there is sir.” Cyclone signed and zoomed in on your picture, “Lieutenant Mitchell, callsign Mel, one of the best pilots I have seen in years. She was top of her class. Two confirmed air-to-air kills. You must be very proud. Captain.” Maverick smiles, “I am, sir. I’m proud of her every day.”  

Maverick was indeed proud. Starting from the second you were born, he knew you would be a mini him the second he got called for a parent-teacher meeting for you not following directions and being a bit rebellious. There was also the first time he took you on your first little joyride, instead of being scared like  most people that are thousands of feet up in the air going hundreds of miles per hour, you were so excited. You had the time of your life. You especially loved when he did aerobatics. You kept on asking him to do another one, he often wondered how you never got dizzy or felt nauseous. As you grew older, you went on to be just like him.  If not, maybe even a little better. Now here you are, getting called back to Top Gun to be a possible candidate for a special detachment. This isn’t like the past missions you’ve been on. This is life or death. He knows there is a chance someone isn’t coming back. 

Cyclone then zoomed in on another person. Rooster. “Bradley Bradshaw aka Rooster. I understand you flew with his old man. What was his call-sign again?” “Goose, sir” “Tragic what happened.” Warlock cuts in defending Maverick. All Maverick could do was nod. Memories of what happened replaying in his mind.

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“Dad?” You saw your dad sitting by the bar alone. You thought he’s in the desert working on the Death Star. Why is he here?  He turned around and you smiled excitedly going over and hugging him as tight as possible. You felt him hug back just as tight. “Hey sweetheart.” You always loved the daddy-daughter hugs. It made you feel safe and relaxed. You haven’t seen him in person in almost a year. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you’re supposed to be somewhere in the desert.” You saw the look he gave and you couldn’t help but grin. “You pissed off another admiral, didn’t you?” He chuckled at your response. “You could say that.” You sat next to him. “So… what are you doing here at North Island? Did Uncle Ice tell you I was here?”  You asked him. 

“Well uh…. in a manner of speaking.” You noticed the look your dad had. There was worry in his eyes. You hadn’t seen that look in a long time. “You’re here for the detachment… aren’t you? That’s why you’re here.” He gave you a look. You knew the answer. “How bad is it going to be?” You looked to your dad. “I can’t say too much yet, but … this is something no one’s ever seen.” All you could do was nod. Before you can react you felt him rub your shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. You’re the best fighter pilot I know.” You let out a little chuckle, “don’t let Uncle Ice hear you say that.” You heard him let out some chuckles.

You talked with your dad for a little longer to catch up on everything. He told you that the Kazansky’s invited you both over for dinner tomorrow night. You were excited, as you have seen your Uncle Ice and Aunt Sarah in a while. You heard your name being called, looking over you saw Jake and Javy calling you over. You heard your dad’s voice, “go on, go catch up with them.” You looked over to him. “Are you sure?” “I’m sure. We have plenty of time to catch up more.” You smiled and hugged him one last time before going over. 

“What’s Pops doing here?” Jake asked after pulling you into a hug. You didn’t want to ruin the surprise. “He’s here visiting old friends.” You responded as Javy pulled you in for a side hug. 

As you talked, you caught up with Phoenix, you met some new members: Bob, who was so sweet, Payback and Fanboy who both were really nice, although you felt a little competitiveness between them and Jake and Javy. Jake would not stop teasing Bob, you had to nudge him a few times hoping he’d stop messing with the guy. 

Maverick watched as his little girl bonded with her teammates. Despite Jake's reputation he trusted him that he wouldn’t leave his daughter behind, but he is unsure if he would do the same for the rest of the team.

You looked over and saw a familiar face entering the Hard Deck. Bradley Bradshaw.

Bradley walked over to the group. “Bradshaw.” “Hangman… you look good” “Well, I am good Rooster, I’m very good. In fact, I’m too good to be true.” Hangman responds, smirking. Bradley then looked over to you. “Mel.” “Rooster.” “Why am I not surprised you’re here?” You rolled your eyes, scoffing at his remark. You knew what he was thinking, he still believed the reason  you made it this far is because of your dad and uncle. “Well who else did you expect?”  

Before Bradley could say another word, Jake cuts in, “you’re just jealous Bradshaw, admit it, you will never fly like Mel here. She takes risks unlike a certain someone. She’ll make a great mission leader, but anyone that follows you will just run out of fuel. Waiting for the right moment that never comes.” You felt Jake’s arm snake around your shoulders. 

Jake is your best friend, you could say. Sure, during training he would leave his wingman and fly off, but during the missions he was never like that. At least not to you. He saved your  life; that’s how he got his first confirmed air to air kill. If it wasn’t for him, you would not be standing here right now.

Bradley suddenly felt a ping of jealousy growing inside him. Since when were you and Hangman so close? But Bradley being Bradlet, he chose to ignore it. “And anyone that follows you will just end up in a grave.” That ticked you off a little. You wished Jake would let you tell everyone what really happened that day. You don’t get why Jake wants to keep it a secret, he loves to show off. Only a few people know the exact details. 

“They’re on me! I can’t shake them!” you said with a panicking voice. With an enemy aircraft chasing after you at full speed. Trying different maneuvers, you dodged as many bullets that you could. That’s when you heard a beeping sound; the enemy got a lock on you. Just as  you started accepting your fate, there was an explosion sound. You looked over and saw the enemy fighter jet blowing up into pieces. “You owe me a drink, Mel.” Y/N looked over and saw Hangman giving her a grin. He just saved your life, for once not living up to his callsign.

After that, it was Hangman and Mel. Jake and Y/N. You became best friends and each other’s wingperson.

Other than Rear Admiral Jackson, Javy, Maverick and Iceman, no one knew it was Jake that saved you. Jake wanted to keep it a secret. With the help from Iceman, no one knew what really happened. Because the mission only needed 2 pilots, it made it easier to hide the truth.

Maverick was watching the whole scene play out in front of him, feeling the guilt bubble inside him knowing he was the reason his daughter and Bradley are no longer friends. He remembers how close they were as kids, how they never left each other’s side. He hopes this mission will bring them together again.

The night went on, he ended up being broke after not realizing the rules at Penny’s bar. Jake and the others had the joy of “throwing” him out of the bar. You knew it was all fun and games. You knew your dad took a liking to him after he saved your life that day. Even you let out a little laugh watching it all play out. 

You heard a familiar tune starting to play in the background, you looked over to the piano and saw Bradley sitting there. The tune that your uncle Goose, Bradley’s dad always plays. You remembered how you and Bradley would sit on the piano with your dad, Uncle Goose and Aunt Carole gathered around singing “Great Balls of Fire” together. Your eyes wandered around and noticed your dad outside staring towards where Bradley is. You knew he misses them too. 

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You sat next to Jake and Javy waiting for the debrief to start. You had this feeling that something was going to happen today and it was not the good kind of feeling. You know Bradley will not be happy knowing who the instructor for the detachment is going to be. You also know he will be mad that you didn’t warn him. But he has no right to feel that way. After all, you two were basically on no speaking terms. Cyclone’s voice disrupted your thoughts. “Good morning aviators.” 

At morning debriefing, Cyclone and Warlock went over the details of this mission. Just from hearing the details about what is going to happen, you knew this was going to be a detachment like no other. As he introduced who the instructor was going to be, you knew exactly who they were talking about, even though you already found out last night. You only know one person that fits the description so perfectly. 

You couldn’t help but look over to Bradley, wondering how he is going to react when he sees your dad. You can see him tense up as he sees your dad walk in. This is going to be a very long day. Bradley made eye contact with you and he was not happy, just as you had predicted minutes ago.  After the debrief, you and everyone else waited to be selected to go up in the air. First ones up were you, Phoenix, Bob, and Rooster. 

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As you walked towards your fighter jet when you heard your name being called. “Why didn’t you tell me he was going to be the instructor?” You knew he was going to ask this. “How am I supposed to tell you if all we ever do is argue when we talk?” “Yea, well you’re the one that always starts it” “Are you serious Bradley? Look at us. Besides, would it really make a difference if I did?” “Yea, it actually would have.” 

As the training session went on, no one has been able to get a lock on Maverick. not even you. You were close but he is always steps ahead. And thanks to the little bet, everyone was punished with 200 pushups.

Now it is time for Phoenix, Bob, Hangman, and Roosters turn. You listened to the radio as Jake asked Bradley some personal questions. There was one secret you never told Jake, it was the exact details about you, your dad, and Bradley. All he knows is you and Bradley had an argument, he left and that was that. 

You heard your dad’s voice. Encouraging Bradley to take a little risk instead of playing it safe. Jake’s voice came in warning them about getting below the hard deck level amd telling Rooster to take the shot. Soon through the radio, you head the alerts going off telling them to pull up. You are holding your breath at this point. No matter how upset you were at Bradley, you didn’t want to lose him and your dad.  A few seconds later, you heard your dad’s voice. He got a lock on Bradley. What on earth were they thinking?

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You stormed up to Bradley angry. “What was that Bradshaw?! Are you trying to get kicked out?” “Oh like you care, you probably would love to see me off this mission.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It’s like he never changed. “I worked hard to get here and you know it!” “Well not everyone is lucky enough to have their dad and the Commander of the Pacific Fleet as their teacher!” He snapped back. You froze, not believing the words that just came out of his mouth. Not wanting to continue this anymore, you shook your head and walked away in silence. You knew if you stayed longer, you would end up saying something you’d regret, and possibly escalating the argument.

“Why are you such close friends with Hangman? You know what type of person he is!” You stopped in your tracks. Why did he change the conversation to this? Was he jealous? You turned around facing him once again, letting out your anger. “You’re right, I know what type of person he is. You don’t! You let your judgments get clouded too easily, you’ll just assume the worst in people!” You saw the look Bradley had on his face, hearing him let out a scoff, “all he ever did was leave his wingman behind! Everyone knows that! Why won’t you believe me?!” 

You don’t know what came over yourself. You’ve kept it in for years. Coming up with reasons why Bradley cut off contact with you, why he barely said anything to you during your time at Top Gun, why he treated you like you were nothing. He didn’t even believe you told him that you had nothing to do with his application being pulled. And now all of a sudden he cares about who you’re friends with. You knew what Hangman was like to others. That’s just a character he built up; he doesn’t want to seem weak or soft, easy to push around. Sure he messes around during training, but when it comes to the real thing, he takes things seriously. 

“You want to know why? Fine. He never left me hanging! He didn’t cut off contact with me for something I didn’t do!  He trusted me! He never assumed I got in just because of my last name! He didn’t hurt me the way you did!”

You were mad at your dad too, especially at first. But after a lot of begging, he finally told you why he pulled Bradley’s application; you understood, it was an extremely difficult decision. Adding on to it, it was his best friend’s dying wish.

You quickly walked away going to the locker rooms. You heard Bradley call out your name, but you chose to ignore it. Today did not turn out the way you had expected. It hasn’t even been 24 hours since the first time you saw Bradley in years and he is still the same.

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[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Humble Beginnings (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Humble Beginnings

series summary:

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:

Joker promises Y/n a night you’ll never forget but when has J’s ideas ever went according to plan?

authors note:

Please don’t throw any tomatoes at me! I am so far behind on my story that I’ve decided to do back to back chapters! No oneshots in between 😤 I’m super excited to see the reactions to this chapter. It reads like a filler, but it’s jammed packed with vital information. Do enjoy! 🖤✨

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse @jaysmentalspace

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Last Chapter | Next Chapter

"Do you trust me?"

You shouldn't have. Common sense begged you not to. Apparently, you had none when it came to Joker. You just nodded and did as he asked.

The sidewalk outside Tiffany's was still empty but you paid it little mind. Your focus was on the black SUV parked near the curb. Behind it, you could see the normal bustling sight of Gotham. No one dared to cross the invisible line. Just how did Joker pull off his elaborate stunts, the world may never know. It was none of your business anyway.

You blindly trusted your clown and slid into the backseat only to discover that there was no driver.

You hoped that one would join you. Joker proved in the Vineyard that he was a terrible driver.

You didn't want to relive that horrifying experience again. Yet much to your dismay, Joker came strolling down the sidewalk to open the driver's door.

He made himself comfortable and opened his mouth to speak. It took a split second for him to realize that you weren't in the passenger seat.

Joker's work mode activated instantaneously. It was only a short walk from the storefront to the car but a professional only needed thirty seconds to grab you. His mind was racing with endless possibilities to get you back.

In that moment, Joker showed you just how much he cared about you when he hit the steering wheel with a curse spewing from his lips.

He looked a nervous wreck so you decided to end his mini suffering before it truly began. "Joker, I'm right here."

You waved from the backseat and he deflated like a balloon realizing that you were okay. No one took you. You were safe and accounted for.

He was relieved to say the least but his hands were still shaking. Hopefully you didn't notice.

"Y/n.. ya almost gave me a scare! Whatcha doing in the backseat hmm?" He patted the passenger seat in earnest, "I want you riding shotgun!"

You gave Joker a scare? Now that was one for the history books.

His green eyes still had traces of panic in them and it made you feel guilty. You weren't where you were supposed to be; and it caused Joker to panic. Losing you was perhaps his only fear and it was all because you miscalculated which seat he wanted you to occupy.

All of this could have been avoided if he gave you better instructions; however you didn't want to point fingers tonight.

You said nothing as you climbed over the center console and plopped down in the passenger seat.

Joker simply blinked in surprise. "Well. Ha, that's uhh, one way to do it." He laughed and turned the SUV on.

You were trying to get comfy on the leather seats in your silk dress. It wasn't the same Mercedes that he drove in Massachusetts; you remembered the dash wasn't matte and the seats were cloth, not leather. Regardless of the changes, it was a clean ride.

"The keys are clean my boy."

Your comment made Joker eye you sideways. He chalked it up to one of your Blüdhaven phrases since you didn't translate further.

J hummed in that ambiguous tone of his. "Uh thanks? It's yours actually." He turned onto the highway while you proceeded to error 404.

It was still hard to judge if Joker was joking or being serious about things. He always left you guessing.

"Run that back?" You asked. Ah, he knew what that saying meant.

He briefly glanced over at you before his eyes returned to the road. He wasn't one for repeating himself, yet you were breaking that personal quirk. "I'm saying..... it's yours doll. I thought you might want—"

"YOU BOUGHT ME A G-WAGON?!"

You heard Joker grumble about it technically not being a legal purchase but your mind was elsewhere. Morgana was right. Joker was already spoiling you with things. That sneaky florist knew this whole time!

The devil on your shoulder was cackling for days. 'Good pussy will get you anything. Secure the bag!!'

You shook your head so you could hear Joker ramble off the key features.

"It has custom cup holders, heated/cooled seats, annnnd its bulletproof!"

Pause. Did you hear that one correctly? "J, you're making me nervous." What did he expect you to encounter on the road? The Batmobile? You hardly went anywhere to warrant owning a car. J didn't waste time a second replying.

"Good. I don't want you takin' the subway anyyy-more. If you don't li-Ke this model, I'll uhh, get whatever car ya want but it will be armored."

That was his only requirement and you were reminded of the stale air between Joker and Two Face. Things were unresolved on that front but you didn't know if the former district attorney was the person behind the Manila folder incident. If not, then you had two enemies lurking around.

Someone had The Joker cautious. It was a fact too hard to ignore.

Joker had many enemies however this one took things personal and that made them ten times more dangerous. Your safety was J's number one priority. The least you could do was comply with his wishes. That didn't mean you couldn't have a little fun beforehand.

"So, i-if I want a Prius instead?" You led on. "You'd get me one?"

Joker looked away from the road to gawk at you. The man looked positively offended. "I am noT—"

You started tapping the dashboard after looking ahead. "Brake! Brake! Brake! Brake!" Your poor heels were stomping on an imaginary brake pedal on the passenger side. Anything to avoid a head on collision since Joker seemed incapable of noticing.

Joker finally came to his senses and swerved into the merging lane, thus avoiding the sudden congestion up ahead.

The car behind Joker unfortunately collided with the stand still traffic and began a multi car pile-up. Joker thought you freaking out was the funniest thing ever; you on the other hand were too busy questioning why you let him drive. Again.

No mode of transportation was safe if Joker was behind the wheel.

You clutched your head and stared out the window, yet the passing road signs made you perk up. "Are we headed to the airport? Dear Lord, I can't stomach flying after this." You waved at the mess on the highway behind you.

Joker's hand came to a rest on your thigh, right as he passed by the exit ramp for the Archie International Airport. A part of you wanted to yell at him to keep both hands on the wheel but his hand felt nice where it was.

Joker promised you a night you'd never forget, you weren't so sure when that would start.

"Shhh Bunny. You'll see." He squeezed your fears away. "You trust me, yeah?"

He didn't see your eye roll. "That's debatable." You mumbled.

Joker scoffed but kept quiet.

Despite it being dark out, any native knew where this road led. J saw you tense up out of the corner of his eye. A mile marker made your blood run cold.

Blüdhaven 24 miles.

"Joker, t-turn the car around. I don't..." You saw the familiar but foreign Blüdhaven skyline in the distance. "I d-don't wanna be here." You whispered.

It was so close, yet so far. You never wanted to return to this living hell but Joker gave you no other choice. He kept the vehicle on its course despite you tearing up in the passenger seat.

"Take me home, J. I'm serious!"

He thought about turning around, if not for an incoming text message on the dash distracting him. Somehow you didn't see it since you were staring out the window in a panic.

He clicked his tongue and exited the highway, his mind racing to work around this set back. Immediately the SUV was met with the rough pothole-ridden streets you grew up on. There was no doubt where you were now. You were getting nauseous just thinking about it.

"Take you home? I am, silly!" Joker giggled. To your horror, he turned onto your old street and began slowing down. What part of this was supposed to be a good night?

This was a nightmare.

Joker parked on the street, in your old, designated parking spot and cut the engine. You had tunnel vision and failed to hear Joker calling your name.

"I uh, hacked your manager's office to get the address. Hope ya don't mind.. But uhhh nice place! You gonna inviTe me up, Bunny?"

You shook your head in the negative.

Joker's plans were already ruined but you just had to make matters worse by being a stick in the mud. Joker clicked his tongue again and came around the SUV to open your door. He didn't expect to see you crying when he got there.

"No. Nooooo no noo. Stop that, Bunny. Look. At. Me." He frowned when you did the opposite. He was getting irritated but he refused to let you see. All it took was a little patience when you got like this. Patience! You know, something he severely lacked.

Joker sighed and reached inside the wagon to tilt your face towards him.

"Focus on me, my Light. That's it. On me. He's not here. I am, and I wanna see your place. Uh, in an old blog post you mentioned you had a errr, nice view? Can you show me?"

He was pulling out all the strings, and still, you weren't budging.

"C'mon baby doll.." J kept his focus on you but also on the street. Blüdhaven was infamous for a reason and he didn't want you outside for too long drawing unnecessary attention. The SUV alone drew enough.

He had a team assigned to run surveillance; however, they weren't here yet due to the setback. Getting you situated inside was his first priority then he could check on their ETA.

That is, if you cooperated.

You looked ready to faint amid your panic attack.

Joker's methods were a touch cruel however he knew facing one's fears helped in the long run. He never fully understood why you avoided your hometown when it was only forty-five minutes away—at least, if you drove fast like him it was.

You had baggage that was long overdue for unpacking, and he wanted to be there with you when it happened. He wished someone had been there for him years ago but all he got was a bad rep and solitary confinement.

Bottling up your trauma wasn't healthy. This knowledge came from experience and Joker didn't want you ending up like him.

"Y/n, you still with me?"

Joker's voice was muffled by the ringing in your ears, yet you nodded your head regardless. He gave you an awkward hug— you still seated and him standing, desperately trying to get you out of the vehicle.

His actions worked. You sought out his warmth and followed the tugging motion until you were standing on the curb. He half carried, half dragged you into the apartment building in an ironic twist of events.

You were reminded of the time when you carried Joker to your apartment when the two of you first met. History was repeating itself. However, in this case the roles were reversed and there was no elevator. Joker picked you up bridal style and carried you to your old residence. Along the way, you came to and asked to be put down.

You wanted to walk on your own and you led Joker right up to the apartment door. "T-This is me. Or it used to be." You blinked and added, "I don't have the key."

Joker scoffed, "Don't neeeed one." His shoulder made quick work of the door and you glared at his illegal methods.

"J, this isn't my place anymore! What if someone else is renting?"

A lot could happen in a year. You moved out so fast that your landlord didn't have time to fine you for ditching the agreement. Technically you still had a lease here and that much was evident when you walked in. Nothing had changed. Sure it was dusty, but bigger pieces of furniture and some personal items that you left behind were still present.

You lifted a dust cover and smiled seeing your favorite end table, scuff marks and all, hidden underneath.

"Oh. Me and Nia thrifted this back in high school!" You were confused why you didn't take it with you until you tried lifting it.

"Yup still heavy." You moved on and didn't notice Joker moving it near the door for you. Anything you wanted to take back, he would.

Overtime you started to relax and Joker admired the way you shuffled around digging up old memories. And to think you were initially too scared to come up here. His Bunny was so skittish, all you needed was a little nudge of encouragement.

He noticed that most of your finds were too heavy, and it made him think out loud. "Was my Bunny in a hurry to leave?"

You set down a box of things, sighing. "Yeah. This is the first time I've been here since..."

Joker noticed you hesitate and filled in the blanks for you. No wonder you were so against coming here. Joker felt like an idiot. This was your first visit since your assault, and you continued to rub in his mistake.

"I moved back in with Mama and Dad. It took months to get back on my feet. Dad and some of my cousins moved my stuff for me since I couldn't bring myself to come back. It was essentials only and it barely fit inside the U-haul we rented. I moved to Gotham with a fraction of my life. I had to start over with absolutely nothing."

Seeing the space around him was proof of your resilience.

Joker unlocked another piece to the Y/n puzzle. Everything you had today, you earned with nothing but grit and determination. He felt stupid for thinking you were a spoiled, entitled brat.

You were stronger than people gave you credit for. You deserved the world and then more.

Joker came over but stopped short of touching you. He was uncertain if you wanted physical contact right now judging by your closed off body language. However, J thought you shouldn't be alone, so he tested the water to gauge your reaction.

For starters, he dropped his unique speech pattern and talked to you straight. A trend you noticed he did exclusively for you.

"Anything you want, I'll have my boys bring back for you." He moved his hand until his pinky bumped into yours. It made you crack a smile and intertwine your fingers with Joker's.

Such a small gesture held a bigger meaning. You silently thanked Joker for being considerate. After a while you turned to address him.

"R-Really? You can do that?"

Joker feigned offense, staring at your dainty hand looped around his rougher one. The contrast in color had him mesmerized but he heard your question loud and clear.

He let go of your hand to tilt your chin up, and his words brushed against your lips like satin. "Sweetheart. Say the word and it's yours. You really should believe me on that."

J backed you into a wall grinning wildly, until you started blinking like mad. "What's wrong?" He knew that trigger of yours all too well and backed off.

You didn't let him go far. You buried your face into Joker's suit and held on tight. "I'm sorry, just a bad memory here."

Seconds after you spoke, you were deposited on top of the kitchen counter. The surface was cool through your silk dress, but Joker's hands were warm on your hips.

He was quick to dote on you. "What's the story?"

A long one if you were being honest. You weren't up to retelling it, yet one look into Joker's curious eyes made you cave. He was earnest in his desire to know more about you and that included your horrid past.

There was no harm in sharing so with a shaky sigh, you jumped right in.

"Um l-long story short, I was accused of cheating after he saw a post I was tagged in with a fan of mine. He punched the wall, almost hitting me. I was terrified he would hurt me, but he 'apologized' with diamond earrings the next day."

Joker looked up and sure enough, he could see the indentation you spoke of. Someone had tried to patch the wall up, key word; tried. Joker saw nothing but red.

"Give me a location and I'll kill him."

You shrugged J off. The last thing you wanted was Joker killing someone in your name, even if it was your ex. You were trying to forget and move on with your life despite the process being slow.

Joker was curious as to why you hopped off the counter.

He followed your path as you hovered near the sink. You smiled at a burn mark you found there. Your emotions changed like a drop of a hat; he honestly couldn't keep up. You reminisced about your Housewarming party when the same friend Nia set down a casserole dish straight from the oven and burned the countertop.

It brought you back to happier times and you were glad to know good memories were mixed in with the bad.

The discovery lighted the mood but Joker couldn't overlook that this apartment was filled with signs of abuse, hidden in plain sight.

You didn't realize that you were surrounded by the signs until you gave Joker a tour, pointing things out left and right. It was nearing time for his surprise to begin, yet Joker couldn't bring himself to interrupt you.

The fancy dinner he planned tonight would have to wait for another day due to safety concerns. Plus he rather enjoyed following you around and hearing you share stories of your past.

It wasn't the memorable night that he had originally designed, moreover, being in your presence was more than enough.

A shame you were expecting something big to occur. He'd make something up on the fly to appease you.

You led Joker past the barren bedroom out to your balcony. It was the size of a broom closet compared to your massive square footage back at home. You really moved up in life and it showed.

"This is the view I was talking about. I used to stay out here for hours. Just me and my thoughts, planning a future I could only dream of."

Joker whistled at the grand sight of Gotham City in the distance.

It truly looked like a beacon of hope from here especially since he now knew about your old living situation back inside. You dreamed of escaping it all and starting anew, and it all originated from this balcony.

Joker's eyes strayed from the skyline down at you.

His Light bathing in the moonlight. The cool blue hue highlighted your features in ways Joker could've never imagined. You were gorgeous, even if there was a wistful expression on your face that he longed to erase.

Joker tapped your shoulder to get your attention. You turned with a soft hum, but it was cut short by J kissing you.

It was full of passion with a touch of desperation.

You weren't defined by your past. You were free to live out the dreams you created, and he wanted to provide it for you if only you would allow him to.

J shifted to deepen the kiss, but you beat him to it by pushing him away. You said something under breath before clearing your throat.

'Always running away.' Joker wryly thought. He had a split-second idea of handcuffing you to him before he shook it away.

He found you removing your heels in order to climb up the dingy fire escape. And to his surprise you were standing on the ledge, Titanic style.

"Uh... Bun?" His hands reached out to balance you. He was met with your carefree laugh floating in the breeze.

"I used to come up here dozens of times, J." You turned around to look down at him. "It's safe."

A rusty groan followed by a loud pop proved your words otherwise. You yelped when your balance gave way to the beam breaking and if not for Joker's tight grip on your waist, you would have tumbled down four stories.

Thank goodness for his fast reflexes.

"I got ya doll! Don't look down... Don'T! Look.." A dumb order to follow when your head was hanging over the edge. You elected to close your eyes until Joker pulled you back over.

The two of you collapsed back on the safe portion of the balcony in a fit of emotions. You shaking with Joker gently rocking you.

"I got you Bunny." He kissed the crown of your head, holding onto you for dear life. You were nodding along to anything he said in your state of shock. He waited for a while before speaking again.

"I had plansss for us to stay herebuT. Why don't I drop you off at your parents instead, yeah?"

This was his idea of a night you'll never forget?

You refused to believe it. Something must've come up for him to be so spontaneous with his plans. J didn't make you get all dolled up and drive you out of Gotham City for nothing. He had to have something bigger up his sleeve for later.

For now, you feigned ignorance. "W-Where are you gonna stay?"

Joker pulled back just enough to give you an, 'are you kidding me' glare.

"Right. Y-You have a hideout here in town. National threat and all. Um, if you drop me off at my parents, they'll hog me for days. I haven't visited them since I moved to Gotham."

Were you rambling? You couldn't tell. Good thing Joker loved your voice and had the patience to listen to what you had to say. He just repositioned you better on his lap and played with your gold bracelet as you filled in the silence.

He hated that you got so pretty all for nothing. Joker was getting fed up with this coward following him around and threatening your safety.

He'd get to the bottom of that situation later. As for now..

"Then stay as long as ya like." Joker chimed in. He regretted saying it the second it left his lips.

You twisted around until you saw Joker's eyes alit by the moon. He looked sincere yet you spotted his curt smile. The boy was drowning in self loathing.

You called his bluff. "I thought this trip was about us."

"It issssss. I'll uh find something to do while you visit the folks." His eerie smirk made you wince.

"Let me guess you'll commit some elaborate crime that'll attract Nightwing's attention?" Your fingers toyed with the lapels on J's suit. "Please don't stir up too much trouble, J. Blüdhaven is a lot different than—"

Joker's huff cut you off, and a shiver went down your spine hearing his voice drop an octave. "Thanks for the warning, Sugar but that's the goal. I wanT to cause a fuss. Ya see... I have some uh, loose ends, and whaddya know? I brought scissors."

You gulped and rested your head back on Joker's chest. If you ignored his ominous words, then they wouldn't affect you.

That straight up sounded like a hit list waiting to happen. You wanted no parts in Joker's line of work.

After a while, only the sound from the nearby interstate and the feeling of Joker's fingers running up your spine was relevant. Your mind was adrift with imaginary scenarios where Joker could meet your parents, but alas it was too risky.

Not only did your dad used to run the streets back in the day, he still had active connections and would recognize Joker on the spot. Plus, your mom was like the female version of Sherlock.

Joker wouldn't stand a chance. But a girl could wish. And your clown was already ten steps ahead of you plotting ways to make it happen.

He had to make up for this failure of a date somehow.

Joker let you drive the way back to your parents. Not because you were terrified of his driving, (he just giggled at your seething glare when he accidentally went down a one-way street), but the neighborhood was hard to give verbal directions to.

Little did you know, Joker knew exactly where your parents lived but that was a tidbit for another day.

He rather enjoyed watching you behind the wheel. Like a true Blüdhaven native, you drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, riding low. You navigated past potholes with ease and your driving skills were far more impressive since Joker held your heels, allowing you to drive barefoot.

His girl was a sight to see, and he told you this at every stop light. You tried to not let J's words make you flustered but with his silver tongue that feat was virtually impossible.

You pulled the SUV a few cars down from the house and shifted into park. The street was so familiar yet foreign, it gave you Deja vu.

You used to read books at the basketball court down the corner and you busted your lip open skating into Ms. Morrison's mailbox one Saturday afternoon a few yards away. It was still bent at an odd angle if you squinted hard enough...

"Everything alright?" Joker's voice brought you back to the present.

"Y-yeah, sorry. Um can you hand me my shoes and I'll be outta your hair."

You yelped when Joker yanked you over the console by the back of your neck. His shaky breath fanned over your lips like a dragon's ire. "You.. are.. noT.. a.. burden, my Light. Never think that." J kissed you in between words, "I'm gonna help ya with your heels, mkay?"

He didn't give you a chance to argue. J was already out of his seat and walking around the back of the car to the driver's side. Joker opened the door and made grabby hands at your feet. You bent your leg so it stuck out the car and into Joker's awaiting hand. His hands were so warm against your skin and it made you shiver.

And of course, Joker noticed. All he did was snort and resume his task.

He fastened your heels back onto your feet and helped you step out of the SUV. The engine was still running but you stared up at Joker, waiting for a proper goodbye.

You and Joker were two idiots standing in the street, just staring at each other. Thankfully it was dark enough so that noisy neighbors couldn't peer out of their windows and see you embracing The Joker.

Now that would be a fun welcome home surprise. You rather not be the talk of town for a second time, thank you very much.

You didn't know what to say so you blurted out the first thing on your mind. "I'll call you I guess?"

Joker hummed. It sounded like an affirmative, yet his hands were like iron bars around your waist. You tried leaning away, his hands simply tightened further. "J... are you gonna let me go?"

An approaching car's headlights lit up the street, and it startled Joker out of his random head space.

He finally released you onto the sidewalk. It was your cue to walk to the door, even if you didn't understand Joker's odd way of saying goodbye. He was still staring as you headed up the stoop. He was acting weird, yet you chose not to dwell on it too much.

Nineteen knocks later and your mother answered the door in her bathrobe wielding a bat. The sight made you arch an eyebrow.

"Who the f—Y/n that you? MY BABY!" She dropped the bat to sweep you up into her arms. "Oh! Do you know what time it is?! Honey! Our baby is here!!!"

Your dad was already making his way down the hallway loading his handgun. Just what time was it anyway for this type of greeting?! You had no clue. The second dad saw you standing in the doorway, his entire demeanor changed, and he concealed his weapon.

It was a reunion scene straight from a hallmark movie and Joker rolled his eyes after seeing the door close with you safely inside. His eyes never strayed from the front door as he made a phone call.

"501 Dorset. Three friendlies. 24/7 watch." He hung up before driving away.

It wasn't the memorable night he planned by any means, but seeing your heartfelt smile while reuniting with your parents would have to suffice. His Light was safe enough for him to go out and get some answers.

He wanted to know more about your past, and your hometown was filled with leads. All he needed was someone who would itch his ears.

The following morning was just like any other in the Y/L/N household. Your mom cooked breakfast and the heavenly smell floated up the stairs and roused you awake. You were always the last down. Somethings just never changed.

Dad was reading the second page of the newspaper by the time you shuffled down the stairs still in your pjs and bonnet.

"Morning, sweetheart. You hungry?" Mama asked, already piling food onto your favorite plate and sliding it on the table. You thanked her after saying grace and grabbed a fork.

At least your dad waited until you had scarfed down half the plate to start his interrogation.

"How did ya get here so late? I hope you weren't out alone." He rubbed his arm where your mom hit him with her spatula. She was thinking the same thing! Why keep it hush?

He had already called in from work to spend time with his girls. It was a rare visit indeed, and he wouldn't miss it for the world. Luckily, your mom also had the next few days off from the hospital.

They had all day to get some answers.

You choked on your eggs. "Um, a... um friend d-dropped me off." You focused your eyes on the horizon in your coffee mug.

"Teh. You mean the shady lookin' friend in the all black G-Wagon?" He pestered. Your mom turned the stove off and came over to the table with her own plate piled high.

"G Wagon? Should I know what that is?" Your mom asked out loud. You smiled watching dad hold out a chair for her and then push her up to the table. Ugh, they were so cute it gave you a toothache.

He kissed her forehead before sitting back down, "It's the obvious choice with armored vehicles. That or a Rover. Are you keeping your head on the swivel?" You noticed the gleam in his eye and the hidden message behind it.

"I'm not in anything dad, I promise. It's just a friend."

He nodded; content for now until your mom spoke up, pointing her breakfast sausage at you.

"At that time of night, a friend would've walked you up dear. Or at least came in to say hello. They got any manners?"

She had a point and you winced in hindsight. Manners were a big thing to your family. You stammered an excuse. "Yes ma'am.. but.."

"Is this that same Prince Charming fellow Dick was going on about at dinner?"

Bruh, your dad was on your neck! There was no time to breathe! You never lied to your parents before and you certainly weren't about to start now. You pushed your egg whites around on the plate and caved.

"Um... yes?" You knew their reaction would be instant.

"AND HE DIDN'T COME IN 'N SAY HELLO?!" Mama cried, followed by your dad rubbing his temples. Well, this wasn't good.

How could you get out of this barrage of questions and paint Joker in a good light? Not like he'd ever meet them, but still you wanted him to have a good rapport with your family. "Mama, he's like really shy around others.."

You knew you said the wrong thing when dad smacked his paper down on the table. "What grown man is shy, Y/n? Ain't you into mature men?"

You pulled a face and glanced at your mother.

She snickered and bit into her toast. There were no secrets, and you were open about everything to them, but it was still awkward to discuss your preferences in men with your parents.

"Um yes dad... I am. B-but, in this situation, just..." you took a deep breath, "Could you please respect his boundaries?"

"Will his boundaries allow us to meet and judge if he's good enough for our Y/n/n?" Mama argued.

And that's where you drew a blank.

Realistically you knew Joker would never meet your parents, however staying quiet would only rouse their curiosity. You had to come up with some sort of answer and fast. Then you remembered the mother-daughter conversation you had with Ma back at your place. A lightbulb went off in your head.

"I'm not sure Mama. Remember I told you, it's not really a permanent relationship. If you want to meet hi—"

"Whatchu mean it ain't permanent? Is he stringing you along? Do I need to call your uncle?" Your dad asked.

You paled. "God no." That's the last thing you needed in your chaotic life.

Even your mother was on edge. "Honey, I doubt it's that serious, right Y/n? No need to get... them involved. Just you wait! Our daughter's got good taste. This mysterious man will come around." She nodded once and that was the end of that.

You exhaled in relief, but the weight of her words sank to your gut.

You didn't have good taste at all. You didn't have the heart to tell your family you were dating the most dangerous criminal in the country or the fact that you were uncertain of the outcome. Would Joker let you walk away from this relationship alive, or would you be another one of his nameless victims, lost to time? Something told you it would probably be the latter.

It was a lot to think about over breakfast. A lulling silence settled over the kitchen until your mother broke it with her cheery voice.

"Oh! Y/n! Since you're here, why don't we go out as a family?"

It was the least you could do, so you swiftly replied.

"Yeah sure Mama. I need something to wear though." You played with a loose thread on your pajama pants. After the shock of you being on their front stoop wore off, Mom and Dad ushered you inside and caught up on lost time, despite it being the dead of night.

Mama commented on your beautiful outfit and you asked to change into something more comfortable before continuing the family chitchat. You donned an old high school spirit shirt and the threadbare pants that you wore now.

The three of you talked for hours until sleep out won the excitement. Now as for going out in public, you weren't so sure you had anything suitable left in your closet upstairs.

"Well, I think I have something that could fit you, at least till we get to a store. It's nothing like your fancy designer clothes." She thought back to your pretty dress that you came in wearing. She hadn't seen you dressed up in ages!

Which reminded her. Your mom turned to your father, "Do you have any plans for today, honey?"

"Nah. I wanna tag along with my two favorite girls. All I'm askin' is to be fed. How about.. we go to Vincent's later? You remember their brown butter and sage gnocchi? Man, you love that stuff, Y/n/n." He scratched his neck, hoping he didn't ruin the moment. Even your mother held her breath at the mere suggestion.

You tensed for a second but nodded. "Omg, yes! I've been craving it actually!" You admitted. Mom reached across the table to grab your hand.

"Will you be okay going there dear? We can always order take-out.."

"I-I think I'll be okay." You caught the hesitant look your parents gave each other. "Seriously. It's cool. I can't condemn Vincent for someone else's actions. Plus, his food is too good to boycott." You squeezed her hand back. I'll be okay.

"Well that settles it. Everyone get ready and we'll hit the towns!"

A day out with your parents was just what the doctor prescribed.

Downtown Blüdhaven was just as you remembered it. Granted it was just as bad as Gotham, (if not worse) you felt a sense of comfort walking around. Perhaps because you knew the people here. You shopped at that drug store for years and knew the workers therein. You and some old school buddies accidentally broke the window at that diner on the corner.

It was nostalgia at its finest, only downside was that your success in Gotham followed you home. You were spotted walking around and by midday, your mom had to say something.

"Sweetheart! I didn't know you were so... famous." She was awestruck when a group of teenagers squealed and asked for your autograph inside the mall. You just smiled, signed their items, and even took a selfie with them—as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Yeah well.. I'm a successful author mama. It's kinda part of the job." Dad was skeptical but he enjoyed acting like your bodyguard for the day and he took his job very seriously.

The two bodyguards that Joker officially assigned over you simply rolled their eyes but didn't dare talk down to your father figure. They both shared a look and passed along a message to J as to who your father was.

To avoid any future run ins with fans, you decided to make a quick post online. Dad guided you over to a nice backdrop and you whipped out your phone.

"Hey hi everyone! I'm back home, taking a break if you will with the 'rents. My adoring mother and father," you flipped the lens to show your mom hiding behind dad. Dad gave a weak two finger salute in her stead.

Your bell like laughter was captured on camera. "I forgot; she's camera shy. But um.. Yeah! I'm in Blüdhaven for the day super casual, so please be mindful of my privacy. Love and kisses!"

You hit send and glanced up hearing your dad's soft laugh. "Look at my Y/n overcoming her anxiety and talking to people!" He was about to nuzzle your hair, but Mama swooped in to save the day. "Not on the twist out!!"

Your hair was looking bomb after she gave it some much needed blue magic moisture and love this morning. She was protecting her masterpiece with an iron fist.

Dad rolled his eyes and tossed his arms around both you and Mama's shoulder. "I think it's time I fed my girls. Who's hungry?"

Your stomach cried out the loudest and you slapped a hand over it, embarrassed. And on that note, it was time to head out.

The restaurant wasn't too far of a walk, but you could feel a change in the air. You noticed the street sign and shivered. Highland and Bicchieri. It gave you the ick.

"We can go somewhere else if you're not ready, Y/n."

It didn't matter which one of them said it, your parents were a collective unit whenever it came to your comfort. Dad kept his distance all day, but you shocked him by initiating physical contact. It made him happy knowing you were healing but he couldn't help but worry that eating here would be counterproductive.

You hugged his arm closer to you for support. "I'm alright. I'm not going to boycott Vincent's food just because of one bad apple. I'm hungry! Let's go!" With a nod to yourself, you entered the building—leaving them outside.

"I got a bad feelin' about this." Mom sighed. Your dad silently agreed.

They walked in right as you were being ushered back by the hostess. "Right this way." She nodded at your parents and guided the three of you back to a cozy area of the restaurant.

Exposed brick and antique lights were the theme throughout. The building itself was one of the founding structures in the city, dating back to the 1900's and the Bicchieri family owned it for almost all of its history. If these walls could talk...

Menus were handed out and the hostess bid the three of you a nice meal before leaving.

Everything was going smoothly until a waiter came over to start out the table and locked eyes with you. "Y/n?"

Of all people to run into, just your luck. "H-Hey Rebekah."

And of course she was eating up your discomfort. "Wow. I thought you'd never step foot in Blüdhaven again. Lemme guess. No one believed your sob story in the big city, and ya came crawling back home?" She scoffed under her breath. "What can I get ya? Disappointment with a side of attention seeking whor—"

"We'd like a different waiter that's what you can get us. I don't got an appetite for your f___king attitude." Your mother said on your behalf.

Rebekah rolled her eyes and walked off. A table across the way gasped as in disbelief at what they just heard and started mumbling amongst themselves.

Dad was trying to calm your mother down, he did not want her making a scene, and you slid further down in your seat, regretting everything.

This is exactly why you never came back home. There was no escaping the backlash.

It was like dad sensed your brewing tears. "We can leave if you want sweetheart. Mama is right, we don't have to take their s__t." He grumbled more under his breath; you didn't care. You just shook your head.

"We're on his family's turf, I should've expected this. I just want to eat and—"

The restaurant exploded into absolute chaos mid sentence.

Multiple men stormed the place demanding everyone shut up and stay seated. Your dad ordered you and Mom to stay calm despite the goons going table to table threatening everyone with guns. You were a ball of nerves already, but you listened to your father's soothing words.

He was a veteran to these sorts of things. If he told you to do something, it was for the best. His wisdom was golden in your opinion.

None of the goons made it to your table yet, which you were grateful for, however much to your horror, Joker strolled in followed by Frost protecting his rear. It was something straight out of a night terror.

You never saw Joker in his element—and it was obvious he was a completely different person in public. He carried an air of fear that made the warnings that news anchors always drowned on about, seem tame.

He is heavily armed and extremely dangerous. We ask the public to stay far away if found within the same vicinity as The Joker.

Up until today, you only seen Joker as a caring, silly roommate, and an even better lover. He was never a danger to you—at least, that you knew of, and he never caused you harm that he didn't immediately regret.

The man dressed in a signature purple suit, stalking the restaurant was unrecognizable to you. You didn't know his motive and that made you tremor in fear.

You whimpered and hid in your father's arms—narrowly avoiding being seen by Joker as he glanced in your direction. He flailed his arms at the lack of service. "Cmon... I just wanted a table." He said before demanding for the manager.

Even his voice sounded different. Had it always been so sinister? It made the hair on your arm stand on end.

A man came out and by smell alone, you knew it was Vincent Bicchieri himself. You could smell the garlic and authentic cigars from across the room.

You couldn't bear to look him in the eye. They reminded you too much of his nephew's. And they both had the same pompous attitude. "Whaddya want freak? Did ya get lost on the highway?" Vincent joked. No one laughed along.

Joker kissed his teeth and glossed over the menu that your waitress; Rebekah handed him. He skimmed over the options before he suddenly grabbed Vincent by his gold chain.

"I'm a looking for someone. Someone... veryyyyy special. You ahh, Ital-i-ans are quite family oriented, no?"

"What's it to ya, freak." Vincent spat out.

Joker took a deep, long breath and you could see his fingers twitching, a clear sign that he was agitated. You knew he hated being called names and this blatant disrespect was probably eating at him. Frost noticed the same thing and flanked his Boss, waiting on a command.

The other goons were left to their own devices moseying around the restaurant. You were too busy watching Joker to notice that one of them had finally approached your table.

Joke licked his scars while rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. "Ok-aaaaay. Let's just cut to the chase, hmm?"

You covered your mouth as Joker took out a switchblade and slit Vincent's throat. His body fell to the floor in a rapidly spreading pool of blood. Women and children were screaming and Joker's goons were ordering them to shut up again. The thug passing by your table caught sight of you despite your father trying his best to shield you and Mom.

"Pretty daughter you got there." The henchmen smirked. Your father wasn't having it and politely warned the boy. "Back off son."

"I ain't ya son."

You knew this wouldn't end well when the crazed henchman grabbed hold of you.

Your instincts were screaming at you to say something, (to cry out for J, anything) but your throat sealed shut in fear. Being quiet was your default in scary situations but you weren't alone today. In the den of chaos, you heard both your parents cry out your name.

You didn't hear Joker's footsteps; you just happened to see his green hair out the corner of your eye the moment you opened them. He must've dyed it overnight, you noted sourly.

"Is there a f__king problem?" The restaurant was promptly silenced by his ominous sentence.

And rightfully so. Joker sounded like the devil himself. You almost felt bad for the poor guy touching you. How was he supposed to know the error in his ways if you were a secret?

"Uh no, Boss? I-I'm not sure Boss."

Case in point.

"LeT. Her. Go." Joker's eyes fell to his henchmen's grip on your arm. If looks could kill.. well. Joker had a thousand plus ways to murder the fool.

His green eyes had never looked more venomous and they glowed with promises of carnage. The message was well received.

The guy let go; and you roughly fell back into your seat. Your gaze naturally landed on Joker knowing that aggression would set him off even further.

The Joker you knew would not let anyone mistreat his Light.

Unfortunately, there was nothing of the man you cared about standing next to you. Not once did he look your way. Joker didn't trust himself to. One look at you would jeopardize everything.

If he turned and saw the terror swimming in your e/c eyes, his Joker persona would crumble like the Berlin Wall. He would devote himself to calming you down.

The great Joker would fall to his knees and kiss each tear away, begging for your forgiveness and he would do it shamelessly. Right in front of your parents no less.

F__k, they were right there! All he had to do was bend down and claim your lips for all to see and the truth would be out.

Joker would expose his biggest secret and have zero regrets. The only downside was you. You would suffer the most if J went public with his Light.

He couldn't risk it. No. He couldn't look. He had to pretend you were nothing to him. This was how he protected you. You. Didn't. Exist. You were an innocent civilian caught up in the crosshairs. Joker did not know you. And that happened to be the hardest task he'd ever faced.

Frost was on guard near the door just waiting for Joker to slip up. The second Frost saw you; he knew they were f__cked. Joker was gonna ruin everything being a simp.

Something had to be done before Joker and his unpredictability acted out. This scenario called for a distraction and what better one than chaos?

Joker shot his own henchmen and drowned out the sound of your startled scream with a theatrical gasp. It all happened in the blink of an eye.

He inspected the gun as if it accidentally went off on its own. "Oops." His sinister laugh was definitely forced. Only you and Frost could tell.

Unfortunately, Joker underestimated the power you held over him. You were like a magnet, beckoning Joker to give in with your natural charm and beauty. He always said your tears would be his undoing—that turn of phrase would hold true today. Much to Frost's and Joker's own dismay, he caved.

He looked at you.

He couldn't stop himself, he had to see you. But he would never forget the sight of your e/c eyes widened in terror at him. How it tortured him inside.

For once in his life, Joker felt ashamed.

Your light was shining on him and exposing his pitch-black soul. His eyes quickly averted down to the table where your menu, now splattered with blood, lay.

He gestured at it, hoping no one noticed his hands shaking. "You should uh try the ahh, brown butter gnocchi. I hear it's to die for."

You were speechless hearing Joker stumble over his words and not in his normal calculated way.

J nodded at your parents, who were frozen at the sight of him talking to you. "Enjoy your meal."

He would never admit it to anyone, but he almost tripped on his henchman's corpse trying to get away from you. A second longer in your presence would have ended in the national headline.

The Joker Brought to His Knees by a Woman.

Joker's heart was beating out of his chest and it took him a second to compose himself back into character. God, you really were his greatest weakness.

Joker passed by a petrified family of four table and swiped the wife's drink mid stride. The soda did little to quell his nerves. He couldn't get your eyes out of his head. The image was forever seared into his brain. He never wanted to be the villain in your eyes. He failed you in so many ways tonight. He had to get out of here before anything else went belly up.

Why did he come here anyway? Great, you made him forget his main objective!

Joker picked up movement out the corner of his eye and quickly locked eyes with Frost. The brute spun his finger in a circle. 'Wrap it up.'

Everyone could hear the sirens in the distance. Too little too late, but help was on the way. Joker grumbled to himself and was making his escape when he remembered one small slight.

The staff were screaming and ducking for cover when Joker and his men burst through the kitchen area, looking for the exit. Joker had no intention of bothering them until he poked his head back inside with a polite smile.

"Pardon meeee. Which one of you is... Rebekah?" He already knew but where was the fun in that? Frost was behind him, telling him to hurry it up.

J didn't have the patience to tell him to shove it. He had a score to settle. Joker grinned watching the tall, mixed girl raise her hand in fright.

"Lovely!" Joker shot her in the head before anyone could question his intentions. He admired his work with a cheekily grin. The stunned staff didn't dare move and thus suffer the same fate.

The clown was completely insane.

The terrifying sight was broken up by someone yelling, "J, we gotta go!" Joker frowned at his fun being cut short, yet he heeded Frost's urgent cry. He kicked out the back door and escaped into the night.

Out front, the customers were being rescued by policemen arriving at the restaurant. People were terrified, but this was Blüdhaven. Things like this happened a dime a dozen with a lot more casualties.

Although no one was more traumatized as you. By the time local police officers reached your table, your knuckles hand turned white. Your grip on your seat was the only thing that kept you from launching yourself into Joker's arms.

Despite your fear, you craved his comfort. You wanted the Joker you were falling in love with to hold you—not the scary clown that just left dead bodies in his wake.

Speaking of, you tried your best not to notice the dead man lying near your feet. You couldn't find any footing with the amount of blood under your heels.

Anything else was a better sight yet your eyes landed on the bloody menu right in front of you. The majority of it was illegible now except for the suggestion Joker gave you.

You were disturbed by how he knew what you wanted. It was in that moment you noticed a table within your line of sight was empty. You staunchly remembered two men sitting there before things went haywire.

How could you be so ignorant? Of course your security detail was feeding Joker intel.

Your dad was asking if you were alright, but he sounded far far away. You honestly couldn't hear anything, your ears were ringing so loud.

"I-I think I'm gonna be sick." You mumbled before you passed out cold.

The to-go box full of gnocchi sat heavily on your lap the entire ride back home.

Your parents thought they were slick stealing glances at you; as if you wouldn't notice, yet you could sense their pity in the air. It wasn't their fault. The wonderful day out with family had ended in disaster and you had only your lover to blame.

Was it a coincidence that Joker crashed the same restaurant you were dining at? You weren't so sure after witnessing the genuine shock on Frost's face when the two of you locked eyes.

J didn't expect you to be there. But why was he there in the first place racked your brain.

You had a hunch, and if you were right, the logic behind Joker's visit made you sick to the stomach.

Your head was already throbbing from the lack of nourishment plus the blunt force it suffered when you hit your head fainting. Dad swore that he tried to catch you; Mama wasn't convinced.

No one was in a good mood after giving statements to the police, and the three of you walked to the front door like a funeral party.

The to-go box, courtesy of the remaining staff, (you suspected it was Joker's doing) was tossed onto the kitchen counter when you walked inside. All you wanted to do was wash your face, secure your hair, and crawl into bed in that exact order. You had no other interests tonight.

Mama had a different agenda.

"Y/n, do you—"

You didn't mean to be rude but the last thing you wanted to do was talk. You talked way too much to investigators at the scene. Your mom jumped when you slammed your bedroom door right in her face.

She sighed and glanced at her husband, who simply shook his head, stating he was off to take a shower. Some help he was.

She didn't want you distancing yourself, especially after such a triggering dinner, so she tried again. "Baby... can you please open the door? I can help you with your hair?"

A 'go away Mama' was weakly heard through the door. The doorknob wasn't budging either when she tried turning it. Back to old habits. You were isolating yourself and as such, she felt as if she failed as a mother.

"Alright, that's okay. We're down the hall if you.. if..." All the air in her lungs left her mid sentence. "Get some sleep, Y/n/n."

You didn't hear Mama outside your door. You were distracted by your phone lighting up with an incoming call.

The assigned name made you shiver and for once, not in a good way. Should you let it ring to voicemail? You gnawed on your bottom lip debating the consequences. In the end, your thumb hit the accept button before you could regret it.

He could hear you breathing but not much else. Silent treatment it is then. He braved the unknown and spoke first.

"You alright?"

That was his intro? You didn't know what you were expecting him to say but it wasn't that. You choked out a dry laugh and stared at the black walls of your childhood bedroom.

The full wall of pictures held so many memories, it was like viewing your life in the third person. From middle school selfies to poetry night with the club, to prom, and then graduation—everything was there in stunning clarity. Except for a noticeable gap in time. The dark paint had chipped from where you ripped photos off the wall in anger. A blimp of your life, torn from your wall stared back, taunting you.

You'll never forget the pain you experienced that day. You vowed to not let another man hurt you.

It gave you the motivation to reply. "No."

Joker hummed and you heard something metallic clicking together in the background. "I'll come get—"

"I wasn't expecting you to kill someone in front of me today." You muttered. Joker didn't seem phased by the sudden change of subject, although it took him a second longer to respond.

"If I'd known you were there..."

"Oh you what?" You sneered, "You wouldn't have killed them? Yeah right. Or or... maybe you would've waited until I was gone to unleash your madness! You really think that shielding me from your line of work masks the fact that you still do it? I know who you are. I know what you do... It's just... getting a visual reminder is..." Your voice cracked at the end with a wet sob.

"Jarring?" Joker suggested.

Mind the fact that this was your first phone call with Joker, he sounded vastly different than the murderous clown you encountered back at the restaurant.

This Joker loved you; you could tell by the lack of his unique speech pattern. He spoke softly and from the heart. His sigh however was strained, and you noted that he sounded a tad bit exhausted.

It was Joker's turn to change the subject. "You looked beautiful tonight. Sorry I couldn't tell you in person, Princess."

In any other situation that nickname would've stirred butterflies in your stomach. You found a pretty printed two-piece outfit while out at the mall to wear for the day. The jewelry and heels you came to Blüdhaven in matched the ensemble perfectly. A shame Joker splattered blood all over it.

"I know what you're doing Joker." You whispered. The walls at your parent's home weren't soundproof unlike in your penthouse, so you had to be careful. "You won't distract me from the truth."

"B-Bunny.. I don't—"

"Yes you do know. Please... I am begging you. If you claim to l.. ahem, l-love me at all, don't do this. Some things are best left in the past. Finding him will change nothing."

He just didn't understand it! Why weren't you demanding justice or better yet cold hard revenge? Victims were usually angry at their aggressor. You were apathetic. If you weren't going to express anger, Joker would on your behalf.

"He deserves to die for what he did to you. If you'll let me..."

Joker stopped talking when he heard a sniffle. The power your tears had over him should be academically studied. And that same power resonated when you responded bitterly in J's ear.

"What I want you to do is forget that anything happened! No one in this stupid city believes anything did, so... let it go, J. Please. Angering the Bicchieri's will lead to nothing but violence and dead ends. No. One. Cares! Why should you?"

Several minutes passed after your outburst. You assumed that Joker had hung up, but his voice came through the receiver, matching your energy.

"Why should I care? Why should I..." He growled under his breath, and you swore you heard glass breaking in the background.

His heavy breathing was loud in your ear. Joker was in rare form. "I can show you better than I can tell ya Y/n. Watch me."

The line disconnected before you could utter another word.

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

Half-Life | Chapter Three

There was something to be said about loneliness, though: at least it was predictable.

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

Tags: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Angst, Sexual Tension, Blood, Body Horror

Notes: It's been a minute since I last posted, but this chapter was a doozy to write! Second longest chapter I've ever churned out, which is insane to me lol. Anyway, I hope you guys like this installment! I was blushing and squealing and kicking my feet while writing it lmao. Leon makes me so sad, but these interactions between him and Bunny (the reader) are SO CUTE. I'd love it if you guys told me your favorite lines or parts in general in the comments! Feedback is what helps keep me motivated!

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It had been a full day since you left, and Leon loathed to admit just how miserable he felt.

He had spent the rest of the prior afternoon with Wolfie hunting for small game, the crow barely able to satiate his hunger.

He always liked the hunt, as he allowed himself to be in the moment, focused solely on his senses and cutting off the tide of emotions that threatened to pull him under.

The distraction didn’t last long, however.

He had killed a couple squirrels and another crow, hoping for something a little more substantial, when he came across a rabbit—a plump one with brown fur—and the reminder of you and the note you left stopped him mid-strike, the animal easily able to escape his normally deadly grasp.

He cut his losses after that, deciding he didn’t want to hunt anymore. He split his meager spoils with Wolfie as he always did, and paced his house until nightfall, his thoughts rampant and his mood sour. 

He tried to sleep it off but tossed and turned instead (though that wasn’t exactly an irregular occurrence for him). 

And now here he was, sitting in his boat in the middle of the lake and spearing any fish that dared to skim the surface of the water, using his tail and those four spidery appendages he had re-released from their place on his spine specifically for the task.

He didn’t like to keep them out for the sake of his own humanity, but the skin of his back rippled and ached when they were confined for too long.

Ten years and he was still uncomfortable in his own body.

He hated it.

He had a growing pile of fish sitting in a bucket before him, reveling in the fact that at least he’d be eating well for the day, briefly pausing his surveillance of the water to snack on one of the scaly creatures.

He wondered what you must be up to right now. Probably already halfway across the globe, bound for home. He wanted to ask you how you’d go about keeping the public from bothering him, but he had been so preoccupied with getting to know you, he had forgotten.

He questioned idly whether or not you would keep to your word, but he supposed it was out of his hands now.

And, for some reason, he trusted you.

It was laughable, almost, how quickly he gave in the moment you didn’t budge from his scare tactics. He had become so inherently suspicious since the events that transpired in Raccoon City, as well as what occurred right here in this village a decade prior, so it shocked him how easily you blew right through his mental defenses.

To be fair to himself—which he often wasn’t—you had caught him so utterly off guard, he had no precedence to follow. No one else had gone that completely against common sense when faced with his monstrous form, and he simply couldn’t wrap his head around it. Besides, he was so starved for social interaction, he couldn’t stop himself from leaping at the opportunity to relish it.

He wanted the whole ordeal to be enough to pull him through to his plotted end, but he thought it was deeply unfair that he only craved more. More conversation. More attention. More affection.

It would have been easier if you had just run.

There was something to be said about loneliness, though: at least it was predictable. At least it was safe.

His inner ramblings were suddenly cut short when he heard a strange sound from the distance. There were footsteps again, but something else he couldn’t quite place—something that rumbled.

His first thought was a vehicle and panic immediately set in, causing him to paddle back to land as quickly as possible.

He wondered if you had broken your part of the deal and alerted others to his presence. Maybe he had been wrong to trust you, after all.

He cursed himself under his breath.

He made it back to shore, the footsteps and that strange sound coming to a halt somewhere too close for comfort. It was in the direction of his house, where he had left Wolfie to dutifully await his return.

If anything happened to his dog, he wasn’t sure what he’d do, praying to a god he no longer believed in that whoever trespassed wasn’t here to cause harm.

He bolted through the woods, dodging between the trees with practiced ease until he was skidding to a halt in the brush beside his home.

The sight that greeted him baffled him to his core.

There, just at his front door, was Wolfie, tail wagging happily as he sat on his haunches. But what really caught his eye was a figure standing above the dog, reaching out to feed him what looked like a treat from their hand.

And, when they turned to face Leon’s direction, the sound of him bounding through the forest catching their attention, he realized the person on his doorstep…

Was you.

“Leon!” you called jovially as he revealed himself from the tree line. “I was wondering where you were!” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he questioned, his tone harsher than he meant it.

You didn’t seem phased, however, as you replied, “I figured I was due for a vacation. Decided to stay in the country for another week.”

“Doesn’t exactly explain why you came back here, though.”

“Well, I told you I wanted to explore the area more, didn’t I? But don’t worry, I didn’t come empty-handed.” You stepped aside and swept your arm behind you, revealing a large metal wagon stacked with all sorts of items. 

So that was the strange noise he heard.

“This wasn’t in our agreement,” he stated, sounding more annoyed than he actually felt. If anything, he was glad you came back. But he worried about what exactly it would entail if you did stay with him. He then added, conjuring up as much disdain as possible to make a point, “You should leave me alone.”

You raised a brow at him, skeptical. “I don’t think you mean that, Leon.”

“Oh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I?” He stood to his full height like he had the moment you first met, narrowing his bloodred eyes while he tilted slightly forward, as if setting up to lunge.

You seemed fed up with his clearly empty threats as you stepped up to him, hands placed on your supple hips in defiance. “Because you’re lonely and I’m the only person you’ve met in the past decade that didn’t run away screaming at the sight of you.”

He scoffed. “Oh, so you’re bothering me again out of the goodness of your own heart, then?”

“Maybe…” You glanced at your feet for a moment as you found the words to say, “And it’s also possible I came back because I find you interesting. This could be mutually beneficial, you know.”

“Interesting?” he repeated dubiously. He felt a pang of disappointment as he looked down at you. “Am I really just some specimen for you to study? Is that what this is to you?”

Your eyes widened at his accusation, throwing your hands up in the air. “Oh my god, of course not! Sure, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fascinated by your… quirks… but that’s not the only reason I came back.”

“You mean to use me as a field guide for your little hiking trip?” 

“Well, that too. But still not it.”

“Then why?” 

You seemed almost embarrassed as you looked away from him, finally admitting, “I like you as a person, Leon. I enjoyed spending time with you and thought you might have felt the same. I… I’m sorry if I overstepped. I can leave if that's what you want.”

Leon was stunned by your words, unable to do more than gawk at you as you awaited his response. 

Realizing you might not get one, you nodded, crestfallen. “Right, yeah. This was a bad idea. I’ll just—I’ll just get out of your hair, then.”

You turned to grab the wagon and make your exit when Leon wrapped his claws gingerly around your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You gazed back at him, searching his face for an answer.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to say,” he told you honestly. Leon almost always had a cheesy one-liner or a snarky quip at the ready, but not for the first time since meeting you, he was speechless.

What could he even tell you, though? That he was thinking about you since you left? That he found himself missing you after only knowing you a day? You must already find him pathetic as is. He didn’t want to exacerbate it.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you responded, a sad smile alighting your pretty face. The thought that he caused it made his stomach twist in a knot. “I was being presumptuous. I shouldn’t have bothered you again.”

You tried to pull away once more but he wouldn’t release his hold, feeling incredibly stupid with how badly he was handling this. “No, it’s fine. I want…” He swallowed, then, unable to meet your eye as he adjusted what was about to leave his mouth, “I don’t mind if you stay a little while longer.”

Your gaze softened as you looked at him, gripping his wrist and squeezing it affectionately. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Yes.” He stared down at your small hand wrapped around him, the warmth emanating from it distracting in a way he found both disarming and comforting. His eyes trailed up your arm to your face, glad to find the once dejected expression had been replaced with a gentle sort of contentment.

You were anything but predictable, and this situation was far from safe, but Leon had to admit… meeting you was the best thing that had happened to him in a long, long time.

Wolfie brushed up against your leg, probably looking for another treat, and the spell was broken. The two of you quickly pulled apart, chuckling awkwardly.

Leon forced himself to look away from you again—not wanting to linger for too long—when his gaze fell upon the wagon once more, curiosity piqued. “So, what exactly’s in there?” 

“Oh, right!” you exclaimed, a grin on your face as you began pulling things out of the small vehicle. “I come bearing gifts!”

With gusto, you listed off the items as you grabbed them, “Brought groceries for me, though I wouldn’t mind sharing, of course! And some water, too, cos I don’t exactly trust drinking from the area. Not too keen on getting a parasite.” You paused after that, eyes wide in realization. “No offense!”

He laughed loudly, shaking his head. “None taken, I promise.”

“Right, moving on,” you continued, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. “I also got myself an air mattress so you can keep your bed and I don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

“Not exactly sure how any of those things are gifts if they’re for you.”

“Hold on, Leon, I’m getting there,” you admonished light-heartedly. “The gifts are next.” 

You then pulled out a dog bed with an array of chew toys and bags of treats set inside, as well as a box of various books. “Some things for Wolfie, as every good boy deserves, and since you told me you don’t have anything to read, I grabbed a bunch of random stuff from the local bookstore. Don’t be too harsh on what I picked, though, cos I had no idea what you’d be interested in.”

Leon wondered if he would ever get used to your kindness toward him. To not only provide nice things for his aging pet but to bring him something to read after off-handedly mentioning he was short on entertainment.

A memory tugged at the edges of his mind, one he thought he buried a long time ago.

It was in the days following his parents’ deaths, forced out of his home and prepped to be sent into foster care. He had been taken to the police station so he would no longer be faced with the carnage in the house he grew up in, no one willing to bring him back before the bodies and subsequent viscera they left behind were cleaned up.

Finally, the social worker assigned to his case took him to the house to retrieve his belongings. It was painful—even to his young mind—to see his home spotless like nothing happened there. But the images of blood spattering the floors and walls were imprinted in his brain.

Eventually, he’d learn to repress them.

The social worker helped him as he collected his things, throwing them haphazardly into suitcases and bags found around the house before lugging them into the trunk of her car. He had thought he gathered everything, about to climb into the backseat, when he remembered his favorite storybook—the one his mother would read to him every night before bed. The one she read to him before she was taken from him.

He ran back into the house as fast as his little legs could carry him, tearing apart everything in his path to find the one thing he had that still connected him to the family he lost. 

“It was here! I swear it was here!” he cried as the woman shuffled after him, her eyes sad as she watched him collapse on the living room floor.

“Do you know where you last saw it, Leon?” she asked gently, kneeling beside him.

He pointed with a shaking finger to the dining table nearby, his parents having been slain in that very room.

“Oh, sweetheart…” she whispered, realizing that it was likely ruined by the blood that had drenched it only a few nights prior. “I think they had to… throw it away.”

Leon broke down at that, curling in on himself and sobbing so hard he thought he might throw up his guts right there on the hardwood floor. The woman did the only thing she could think of and carefully tugged him into her arms.

“I’m so sorry,” was all she offered, knowing there was nothing she could say that would help or change the way this child’s life would be eternally fractured. “I’m so sorry.” 

Eventually, he cried all the tears he had left, and the woman led him to the car once more. He watched through the window with dull eyes as the neighborhood faded into the distance.

That was the last time he ever stepped foot inside his childhood home. 

Then, after his parents' funeral, he was about to be taken to his new foster family, frightened and unable to find the silver lining in any of it. The social worker, though, did the kindest thing anyone had done for him in that dark time. 

Just as he was about to get out of her car and trudge up to the unfamiliar house he’d be residing in—not knowing how long he would even be staying there until he’d likely be shipped off to another family—she handed him a gift, telling him to open it when he got inside and settled down.

He did just that, having to take a while to sit in his new bedroom and stare at the four walls, trying to adjust to his surroundings and be brave like his parents would have wanted. 

He finally picked up the gift, tearing the wrapping paper off with tiny, careful hands and opening the box revealed beneath.

What was inside brought tears to his eyes, and he pulled the item to his chest so hard, the edges dug into the skin there, even through his shirt.

It was his favorite book.

Sure, it wasn’t the same one, its predecessor stained by sticky fingers and the pages ripped and crinkled from years of use, but it was still his. 

The police officer that saved his life the night his parents were killed might have led him to join the force when he grew up, but that simple kindness of gifting him a cherished item he thought he lost forever was what pulled him through in those early days of grief and uncertainty of the future.

He couldn’t believe he had even forgotten, his heart clenching as he realized that book, which sat on his shelf in his apartment back in the States, was probably long gone now that everyone thought he was dead.

Once upon a time, he had hoped he could pass on that little book to his own child when he finally managed to settle down.

What a pipe dream that was. 

Well, maybe it could bring another kid joy if it wasn’t just thrown out altogether by his landlord. It wasn’t like he had anyone to give his things to, after all.

Perhaps Claire had the chance to go through them and send everything to a shelter. He could wish. 

He supposed there was no use thinking about it now, though.

It was ten years too late.

“Leon?” you asked him, pulling him from his thoughts with your soft voice. “Did you hear me?”

He exhaled, sporting a sheepish expression. “Sorry, I was just thinking. Say it again?”

“I was telling you about the fuel I brought.”

“Fuel?”

“For the generator! I figured we could get it up and running. That is, if you’re okay with it. I even got extra lightbulbs in case some of them don’t work.”

Leon shook his head and chuckled, taken aback by how much thought you put into your return. “What did your ride have to say about all of this?”

“Nothing, cos I rented a car for the week. Wanted to make sure I had a way to get back into town whenever I needed. You know, in case I missed anything.”

“Missed anything?” he asked, incredulous. “By the looks of it, you brought everything but the kitchen sink.”

“One can never be too prepared!” you defended earnestly.

He fought a wide grin but ultimately lost to his amusement. “I guess that’s true.”

After you finished showing him everything you brought, the two of you got down to business. You managed to get the old generator up and working, replacing a few of the lightbulbs that had gone out. After that, Leon went back to the edge of the lake to retrieve his bounty of fish while you remained behind to put things away.

When he returned, he found you finishing your task by placing the books you bought onto the shelf next to the dining table, slotting the last one into position as he approached. The two of you stood there, eyes roaming over the different titles nearly in unison.

It was a random array of classics, modern fiction of different genres, and nonfiction that consisted of how-to guides, memoirs, historical biographies, and science books. You really seemed to choose a little of everything, and he appreciated it.  

He caught you smiling in his peripherals, turning to face you as you pulled out a novel with a black, shiny cover. You looked up at him with a teasing glint in your irises before saying, “Ever read this classic? I picked it out just for you.”

He grabbed the book from your hands and stared at the title. “Twilight? Can’t say I’ve heard of it.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head as you pulled the book back from his grasp, looking at the inside of the cover. “That’s right, you’ve been here since before this was even published.”

“That mean I was missing out?” he questioned jokingly.

You had a wicked expression on your face as you replied, “Oh, you were. It’s practically a modern Jane Austen if you can believe it. A love story of epic proportions.” You squinted at him for a second before biting your lip and adding, “You might even relate a bit to the love interest.”

“What, is he a monster, too?” 

“Vampire, so close enough.”

“What kind of vampire are we talking about here? Nosferatu? Dracula? How human does this guy look?” 

“Pretty human, I’m afraid. But he sparkles in the sun, so that’s kind of inconvenient.”

Leon scoffed. “Poor him.”

You laughed and he basked in the sound of it. “Poor him, indeed. Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll read some of it to you before bed.”

He raised a brow at that, ignoring how that made his stomach flip at the thought. “You gonna tuck me in while you’re at it? Get me a warm glass of milk?” 

You rolled your eyes as you slid the book back into its place on the shelf. “Only if you’re a good boy.”

His mouth went dry at your words, unexpectedly affected by them and unable to reply.

Seeing how he froze, you cleared your throat and rushed to change the subject, “Anyway, I wanted to ask you how bathing works here. I didn’t see a tub in the house anywhere.”

Leon shook his head to clear his thoughts before responding, “Yeah, I’ve been doing that in the lake, actually.”

“Hm, it’s a little too cold for me to do that. I guess I can live off of rag baths or something.”

“There are some in the area, like big wash basins. I can bring one in here for you, put it in the side room there. We can just dump the water out the window or something when you’re done. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold or feel gross while you’re here.”

“That would be amazing,” you said, leaning over and running your hand down his bicep. He was forced to suppress the shiver the action caused as you continued, “Thank you for being willing to go through the trouble.” 

Against his better judgment, he gripped your shoulder lightly. “It’s the least I could do after all this.” To make his point, he gestured around the house with his free hand, referring to the electric light filling the room, the stocked fridge and pantries, and the books that now lined the once-empty shelves. 

“You deserve it, Leon. I wish I could do more for you if I’m honest.” A faint pink tinged your cheeks as you looked away from him. 

He felt his heart stutter in his chest at that, wishing he could pull you into his arms but knowing that was far too forward. 

“Anyway, I’ll start making dinner if you want a taste. I know you got your fish to eat, but you might like a homemade meal after so long without one.” 

“Yeah, that sounds… nice. I’ll go get a tub for you, I guess.”

You smiled at him brightly and he begrudgingly let you go to do as he said he would, thinking about you the whole time he was out.

After about half an hour, he returned, having found and scrubbed clean a dirty metal bathtub he found in one of the village houses, along with an old rug. While you set the table, he placed the piece of fabric on the ground beside the far window in the side room and then put the tub on top of it, hoping it would serve you well.

The two of you ate dinner, and although he found it delicious, he couldn’t help but prefer his fresh meat to the meal you had cooked. 

You had noticed his avoidance of the vegetables on his plate and laughed about it, asking him if he was really that picky. He was quick to inform you that he could eat plants, but he didn’t like them or need them to live.

“Ah, a true carnivore,” you had said, nodding as if you understood. As if that were normal. 

He would probably never get you. But he wanted to, for whatever reason. 

After dinner was finished, you cleaned the dishes and pulled out that book you had mentioned earlier, looking positively maniacal as you plopped onto the loveseat by the fireplace. Leon sat on his stool, leaning back against the dining table as he awaited your performance.

He realized very quickly why you were so giddy to read it to him.

It was awful, and you seemed to find subjecting him to it hilarious.

He told you as much after you finished the first chapter and you giggled. “I’m sorry, but this book came out when I was a teenager and it had me in a chokehold at the time. It’s funny now, but you can somewhat blame this series for pushing along my obsession with the occult.”

He hadn’t given much thought to the age gap between you, but he realized suddenly that it was at least a decade. You were a grown woman and he wasn’t aging, but that didn’t stop him from questioning it a little. Just another reason he shouldn’t entertain this pull to you he seemed to have. 

However, that couldn’t stop the next few words from coming out of his mouth, the casual flirtation as natural as breathing, “So you’ve always had a thing for monsters, then? Here I thought I was special.”

“You are special,” you assured him, making heat rise to his face. “Insomuch that you’re the first and only monster I’ve come across. Besides, I don’t think Mothman would be so quick to invite me over for dinner.”

“He’s missing out, then,” Leon mused, forcing himself to calm down and not read into what you were saying. “You’re an entertaining guest.”

The two of you chatted and joked all evening, much like the last time you had visited, before you decided it was time for bed. You took turns brushing your teeth in the kitchen sink—Leon grateful that you brought him a new toothbrush and paste to use—and then you carried your duffle bag to the adjoining room to change into your pajamas. 

He grabbed some of your things to go upstairs with him, switching to sleepwear himself before unfolding your air mattress on the floor by the window.

The glass was still broken from when Ada had shot through it a decade ago, and although Leon had cleaned the shards off the ground so that he wouldn’t get them stuck in his feet, he never bothered to patch the hole. Watching you enter the room and shiver as the breeze blew in, he decided tomorrow he would cover it, just to keep you comfortable. 

You laughed when Wolfie barked at the small mechanical air pump loudly whirring as it began to fill the bed, and Leon smiled as you kneeled next to the canine and petted him to alleviate his distress. You patted the dog bed you placed beside Leon’s footboard, cooing as he curled up on it immediately.

Leon could get used to this, you being here. And that was a dangerous thought. You were only back a day—only planned to stay a week—and already he was settling into whatever new normal came with being around you.

He needed to put some distance between you expeditiously if he wanted to keep what was left of his sanity.

As you finished inflating the mattress and placing the bedding you brought for it, you turned to face him and saw the frown and furrowed brows that marred his features.

“Leon, you okay over there?” 

He shifted his gaze to you again, schooling his expression and inwardly admonishing himself for not controlling it in the first place. He supposed he was out of practice, though he was never really good at hiding his emotions, anyway.

“M’fine. Just… tired.” It was close enough to the truth. He had barely slept the night before and he knew there were bags under his eyes as you took in his face thoughtfully.

“Hope I didn’t keep you up too late,” you apologized, biting your lip and looking almost timid.

Fuck, you were cute.

Unfair.

“Course not. Even if you did, I think it was worth it,” he assuaged, running his clawed hand through his hair. “Not like I have a job to do or anything. Plus side to being a cryptid is that you don’t exactly have to follow a schedule.” 

You giggled, visibly relaxing, and shuffled under the covers of your bed. “Well, thank you for letting me stay again. I’m having a good time and I hope you are, too.”

“No problem,” he replied, thinking that perhaps he should be thanking you for the company you were providing him. He refrained. “And I am. It’s been… nice.” That was the understatement of the century, he knew, but it was all he was willing to express.

“Good,” you said before you rubbed your face into your pillow, a loud yawn echoing in the room. “Night, Leon.”

“Night.”

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed awake after that, listening to you snoring softly across the room in a way he found almost endearing, his head foggy with exhaustion and the sheer disbelief that you were here at all.

The things you did to him, you’d never know.

Then finally, he closed his eyes.

+++

You awoke slowly to the sound of someone calling your name, rubbing your eyes and sitting up on your inflatable bed.

You yawned as you peered over, Leon crouched on the floor by his footboard, running his fingers through Wolfie’s fur.

“I see you learned your lesson about how to wake me up,” you teased, voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

He shook his head, smiling. “What can I say? I’ve always been a quick study.”

You offered an upward tug of your lips before you lifted your arms above your head, stretching out until a soft squeak left your mouth against your will. 

You heard Leon chuckle beside you and you gave him a faux glare as you ripped the blankets off your legs. “What’s so funny, Mr. Kennedy?”

He stood up and only needed to take one long step to be next to your bed, towering over you, before he bent down and offered his hand. “Nothing at all, little rabbit.”

You scoffed but allowed him to easily pull you to your feet. “Is that my official nickname now?”

“‘Fraid so. It suits you a little too well.” His eyes were on you for a moment before they drifted to your still-joined hands. He ran his finger over the ring you were wearing; the one he had given you. “I thought you were joking when you said I was proposing to you,” he mused.

“I was,” you huffed indignantly. “When I pawned off the other stuff you gave me, I decided I wanted to keep this one because it looked cool. And… it reminded me of my time here.”

“And you just so happened to put it on your ring finger?”

“Don’t you get any ideas. It just fits that one best.”

He grinned down at you mischievously before releasing your hand from his grip. “If you say so.” 

“Anyway, now that we’re up…” You sidestepped him to open the bedroom door, trying not to let him see the way his teasing got you all flustered. “I’d like you to take me on a tour today. After breakfast, of course.”

He sighed with exaggerated annoyance. “If I have to.”

You nodded before bounding out of the room and down the stairs, calling back, “You do!”

You were quick to enter the side room, peeling off your pajamas and pulling out your clothes for the day. You eyed the top you had bought the morning before on a whim, considering how it flattered your form and showed a decent amount of your cleavage, but thought better of it. These little flirtations you shared with Leon likely didn’t mean anything, and you loathed to appear desperate. You’d save it for another day, you decided.

You finished changing, then dealt with your unruly hair before brushing your teeth and washing your face. 

Leon joined you shortly after in the kitchen, also donning a new outfit, though the worn fabric and the awkward way it hung off of him made you want to get his measurements just so you could spoil him with a new wardrobe. You worried about going through with it, though, afraid it would come across as rude or even creepy to ask. 

Like the top you deliberated wearing, you decided to save that conversation for another day. You had a week, after all. 

“You making anything for breakfast?” he questioned, leaning casually in the archway, his long arms crossed in front of his chest. You found it both funny how human it was and… strangely attractive.

You averted your gaze. “Just gonna eat cereal. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t expect you to be my personal chef, you know.” He pulled one of the fish he caught the day prior from where you had stacked them in the bottom of the fridge. “Plenty happy with what I got.” 

You scrunched your nose at the smell of the scaly creature as he released it from its ziplock bag. “Eat whatever you want, Leon, but you better scrub your mouth after that. Can’t have you reeking of fish while we’re out all day.”

He offered a lazy salute before taking a large bite. “Yes, ma’am.”

You grinned and prepared your own breakfast, your stomach already growling.  

After eating, and after Leon dutifully brushed his teeth and tongue with added vigor at your behest, he pulled out an old map to aid in your little adventure. You noted the handwritten scrawls across the page, naming each location in the area. You weren’t sure what building you were in, so you trailed your finger from the hunter’s lodge to where you assumed Leon’s house sat.

“We’re here, I’m guessing?” you asked him, pointing at what was titled “the chief’s manor” on the old, yellowed paper.

He nodded, seeming impressed. “Didn’t expect you to figure it out so quick.”

“Well, I use maps on my investigations, you know. A lot of places with cryptid sightings have shit service, so I can’t rely on my GPS. You eventually figure things out after getting lost in the woods a couple times.”

He chuckled at that. “So, where do you want to go?” 

You stared thoughtfully at the map for a few moments, thinking about where you’d like to start. “How about we explore the right side of the area first since we’re already here? Then we could do the left side tomorrow.”

“You’re the boss,” Leon said, shrugging.

“Damn right,” you replied with a smile.

You then got to work filling your backpack with water bottles and a sandwich for later. You even added a baggie full of lunch meat for Leon.

Once out of the door, the two of you (and Wolfie, of course) began your little journey. There was a cool breeze that swept across the path ahead, but the sun was high and warmed your skin. You even pulled out your ballcap and placed it on Leon’s head to keep the light out of his sensitive eyes, which he rolled at your demand, but didn’t protest. 

You traveled down to the abandoned factory and what the map called “the valley”. The factory didn’t hold much of your interest after a quick sweep, but the valley was like a playground to you, the area just a bunch of wooden platforms and bridges set into the surrounding cliffs with a couple of small, empty buildings.

Leon didn’t have much to say about any of it, grumbling about how the area was one he usually avoided, but you caught him smiling softly at your excitement. You were glad for it because you knew most people found your unbridled joy more annoying than endearing.

After that, you circled back, passing Leon’s house and heading to the village in order to reach the church.

As you were perusing the gravestones in the front, enamored by just how old some of them were, you spoke to Leon about something that had been on your mind, “So, the day we met, you told me that I reminded you of someone. Can I ask who?”

He let out a puff of laughter at your nosiness. “Her name's Claire. We survived Raccoon City together.”

“She become an agent, like you? Or was she the person you were protecting when you were forced to join?”

“Neither. She took off pretty much as soon as she could to find her brother. The person I was protecting was this girl named Sherry. She had antibodies against one of the viruses in the city, and they were threatening to experiment on her if I didn’t do their bidding,” he explained, his expression hardening at the memory.

“Jesus,” you muttered. “Your friend ever find her brother?”

“Yeah, at least that side of things worked out.” 

“So… what happened after? Y’know, before you came to the village,” you questioned.

“I’m not sure what you mean. I worked as an agent for six years. Then this. Not much else to say about it.”

You bit your lip, deliberating how to go about asking him what you wanted to know, deciding to be straightforward instead of coy. You had never been good at subtlety, anyway. “I meant you and Claire. Were you guys a thing?” 

“Ah.” He chuckled lightly. “No, we weren’t. She’s great, don’t get me wrong, but we were just friends. Kept in touch until, well… you know.”

“Right.” You found yourself to be strangely relieved that there was nothing between them, but you admonished yourself for even caring. You were only here for a week, after all. No use getting attached, especially after only a couple of days.

He was thoughtful for a moment before he added, “I wonder about them all the time. How they’re doing. A lot can happen in ten years.”

“I don’t know about your friends, but I can at least update you on Ashley, if you’d like?” you offered. 

“Is she okay?” he questioned, going stiff. He seemed to always expect the worst and that broke your heart a little.

“Yes, she’s perfectly fine,” you assured him, glad to see him visibly relax at your words. “In fact, she’s more than fine.”

He tilted his head, “That so?”

“She’s a member of Congress now. Kind of following in her dad’s footsteps, I guess. She’s pretty popular among the younger crowd, always fighting for the underdog. They started calling her a saint after she founded an organization to help people who’ve gone through kidnapping, hostage situations, and things like that. A real inspiration.” 

Leon smiled wistfully. “I’m happy to hear that. I always knew she had it in her, to be her own hero.”

“You know, she’s made several public statements about what happened here. Obviously, there were parts heavily doctored, but still.” You paused a moment, playing with the hem of your shirt. “She talked a lot about you, too. How you saved her. Like you were a modern-day Hercules or something.”

He scoffed, seeming almost diffident. “I was just doing my job. And she saved both herself and me plenty of times. She should give herself more credit.”

“So humble,” you teased, snaking your arm through his, having to strain your neck just to look up at him. “You really are a catch.”   

He rolled his eyes and pulled away from you, “And you think you’re funny.”

“I am funny,” you corrected with a grin, trying not to feel hurt by the way he distanced himself.

He shook his head. “Well, c’mon then, miss comedian. Let’s get a move on.”

The two of you continued your expedition, walking into the nearby church. You raved over the large building and its architecture, awed by the massive stained glass window that painted you, Leon, and Wolfie in a kaleidoscope of light.

Even in this form, you couldn’t deny that Leon looked pretty washed in the rainbow hues. You raked your eyes over him before meeting his gaze and you froze, worried you had been caught ogling him. He turned his head quickly, though, and seemed almost embarrassed. As if he were the one that was caught. 

You realized that he had been staring at you, too, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the thought.   

You moved on to the quarry, finding a massive skeleton that made your jaw drop to the ground. Leon explained that it was called El Gigante, a troll-like monster that he had slain himself. He laughed as he patted Wolfie’s head, adding that the dog had aided in the fight, not to give himself too much credit. 

After getting your fill of the fascinating creature, you eventually pushed forward, reaching the edge of the lake and deciding to sit on the dock together to eat your lunch. You pried your shoes off, dipping your sweaty feet into the water, cringing at how cold it felt against your skin. 

You chatted idly as you ate, Leon feeding pieces of the deli meat you brought to Wolfie as he devoured his own. You smiled at the sight before gazing back out at the lapping waves, the rhythmic sounds of them hitting the dock almost mesmerizing.

“You should take me on the lake at some point,” you mused, pulling your legs up so that your feet could dry out.

“Sure, that can be arranged. It’s nice out on the water. Peaceful.” He pulled your ball cap further over his forehead. “I like to go fishing a lot these days, just so I can sit out there and shut everything out.”

“I’m not one for fishing,” you admitted, knocking your shoulder gently into his. “But the rest sounds great.”

“It’s a date, then.” You both froze at his phrasing and he was quick to amend, “That was a joke.”

You were disappointed to hear him take it back but smiled up at him regardless. “Joke or not, that sounds good to me.” 

You lazed about for a while after that in silence before you pulled your socks and shoes back on, mentioning the fish farm to Leon. He told you about how it was infested with algae and vipers and smelled terrible. You made a face, not exactly keen on wading through stinky snake water, opting to call it a day and head back for his house.

You had just reached the wooded path heading for Leon’s abode when both he and Wolfie stopped dead in their tracks. Not noticing their halted movement, you took a step forward and Leon threw his arm in front of you, barring you from walking any further.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned in a hushed tone, seeing Leon’s severe expression and Wolfie’s raised hackles. 

“Bear,” was all he offered.

You were about to say something when a loud rustle was heard from the tree line just ahead of you. You swallowed as a giant bear sauntered onto the path, uncomfortably close to where you stood.

Looking at the massive creature, it was suddenly apparent what Leon meant when he said you’d been lucky up to this point, never facing a predator beyond a fox or large bird in your investigations. You didn’t realize just how big they were in person. 

Instead of moseying on like you had hoped, it began to walk toward your group. Panic set in when Wolfie growled and snapped his jaw, the bear seeming to take offense, huffing irritably and edging even closer.

“Down, boy,” Leon commanded the dog, who immediately backed away. Leon stepped in front of you slowly, whispering, “Don’t move.”

You nodded at him and he gave one in return before facing the dangerous animal again. He stood to his full height and splayed out his appendages, hoping they would deter it from further approaching. But the damn thing didn’t back off, letting out a roar and lifting itself up on its hind legs, somehow even taller than Leon.

You had heard male brown bears could grow up to eight feet in height and weigh half a ton, though you had never thought about what that meant in real life. It was terrifying. 

Suddenly, you felt something touch your waist. You let out a small gasp as you looked down, finding that Leon’s tail was coiling around you. It tightened and yanked you towards him, and you tried to avoid the sharp barbed end of it as it slid across your middle.  

His tail was forgotten, though, when Leon raised his claws, bared his fangs, and growled. The sound was deep and loud and so inhuman it sent a bolt of fear through your whole body. A fear that even the gargantuan bear before you, ready to maul you to death, didn’t elicit.

The noise had apparently even rattled the predator itself, which took a few steps back and dropped forward onto its front legs once more. Leon growled again, this one quieter and more guttural, but no less frightening.

The bear just huffed before trotting off into the forest.

Leon exhaled in relief, relaxing his position. “We’re good to go if we hurry,” he said without looking at you. 

“Um, Leon? Can’t exactly hurry when I’m trapped like this.”

He turned his head sharply, his red eyes widening when he noticed his tail had completely encircled your torso, squeezing you tightly as the tip flicked precariously close to your face.

“Fuck,” he said, slowly and carefully unfurling the appendage from your body. “I’m so sorry. I—I didn’t even realize I did that. Are you okay? I didn’t catch you with the barb, did I?” 

You let out a breath as soon as you were free. “I’m fine, it didn’t get me.” 

“Good, cos there’s venom in it. Depending on where it stings you and how deep, it might paralyze you for a while.” 

You stared up at him with a horrified expression. “Seriously? How long is ‘a while’?”

“I normally use it when I’m hunting bigger prey, like deer, so I don’t exactly sit around and wait for it to wear off before going for the kill. But I have used it on predators in self-defense, and they were up and at ‘em in about an hour.”

“Have you ever stung yourself by accident?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t work on me. Immune to it, I guess. Still hurt like a bitch, though.”

You eyed his tail warily. “And you really didn’t know you grabbed me with it?”

“I didn’t,” he said, sighing glumly. “Guess it was just… instinctual.”

“Well… thank you. For protecting me, I mean.” You couldn’t deny that the whole ordeal scared you, but you were still grateful. And Leon was still Leon, as far as you could glean.

“Of course, it’s my—” he cut himself off and let out a soft chuckle. “I almost said ‘it’s my job’. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“I suppose if I’ve roped you into showing me around the place, it kind of is your job,” you joked.

He smiled and you finally relaxed, the warmth of it—even despite his sharp teeth—was enough to make you feel safe again.

He cleared his throat awkwardly before looking at the tree line where the bear had disappeared, his tone serious as he said, “We should really head home in case he comes back.”

“Right, of course,” you replied, reaching out to hold onto his arm once more. You were pleased when he allowed it, guiding you to the safety of his house, Wolfie happily trailing behind.

You might have been frightened, but you couldn’t deny the exhilaration that coursed through your veins.

You wondered what the rest of the week would have in store.

+++

Leon awoke much the same way as he had the day before: to the sound of your deep breaths and even heartbeats caressing his ears from across the room.

He didn’t stir, only stared up at the ceiling of his canopy bed, thinking about yesterday’s events. 

It started out as a good day, which he realized he came to expect in your company, but he knew something shifted after the bear incident. 

You spoke to him as if nothing changed, but the way you looked at him—or more accurately, the way you refused to look at him—was distinctly off. He figured you were just rattled by the whole thing, but he had shown you a side to him he hoped he would never have to. The part that was truly monstrous.

And the way he had wrapped his tail around you? How it seemed to move of its own accord? The cursed thing often flicked about without him directly using it, but he believed he generally had full control of the appendage. Apparently not.

That realization alone was enough to concern him, but the fact it involved you mortified him beyond belief. He was shocked you didn’t decide to pack up and leave the moment the two of you returned to the house.

Instead, you made dinner like the night before, and while you cooked, Leon had duct-taped an old towel over the hole in the upstairs window to have something to do and to give you space. 

You had then called him down for the meal, Leon choosing to eat all of what you cooked despite his preference for fresh meat and little else, in part hoping it would come across as some sort of olive branch. You seemed surprised by it but didn’t make a comment like you might normally.

He also caught you staring at his tail, and he had his guesses of what you might be thinking.

He assured you what happened earlier wouldn’t happen again, and you told him it was no big deal and that you weren’t worried. He didn’t believe you, though he had no choice but to let it go and pretend the fact he scared you didn’t make his stomach twist in knots. 

After clearing the table, you mentioned wanting to take a bath, and Leon was quick to start the process of boiling the water for you, telling you to relax and read a book. As a compromise, you began reading aloud more of that ridiculous vampire romance novel you bought for him as a joke. Although the story wasn’t exactly his cup of tea, he was happy to hear your little performance just for him, entertained by the voices you gave each of the characters.

You had just ended a chapter—number four or five, he couldn’t recall—when he finished filling the tub with hot water. You obviously had to wait a few minutes for it to cool down enough to get into, but once you were ready, you ducked into the side room.

Leon, still wanting to talk to you and not knowing what else to do, sat against the wall on the opposite side, Wolfie curling up in his lap as you chatted back and forth. 

He could hear the quiet splashing as you moved and cleaned yourself out of his sight, and started to imagine what you looked like under your clothes. How your soaked hair dripped water onto your shoulders and ran in rivulets down your body; how your wet skin would feel under his hands.

He physically recoiled from his wandering thoughts, smacking the back of his head against the wall and letting out a hiss of pain.

“You okay over there?” you questioned, voice light and teasing, though still concerned for his well-being. 

God, you were too good for him. 

“M’fine,” he grumbled in reply, dropping his face into his hands, urging himself to get a grip.

Eventually, you emerged from the room in your pajamas, wringing your hair out with a towel. As you strolled past him to brush your teeth in the kitchen, he was struck by the aroma of the soap you used.

Lavender and vanilla.

The smell was enough to make his mouth water, trailing after you as if possessed. He loomed over you, wanting nothing more than to bury his face into the crook of your neck and inhale.

You turned to face him quizically after rinsing your mouth, and he took a sharp breath to pull himself out of whatever trance he was in, removing himself from your personal space.

What the hell was wrong with him? 

In all the years it took to get used to what he became, he had never been compelled by anything except hunger. He hated that fact, and it troubled him, but whatever this was? It felt far more dangerous.

At least the hunger was predictable.

The two of you had gone to bed without further incident, but he had tossed and turned for hours after, unable to banish the thoughts of you swirling in his head, especially with your sleeping body mere feet away.

To hear you, to smell you, to practically feel the heat emanating from your skin across the room… it felt like torture. Would he be able to survive several more days of this?

He finally sat up in bed the following morning, feeling restless despite not getting much sleep. He called out your name as he grazed his eyes over you.

You were laying on your side, facing away from him, a mess of hair the only thing he could make out from the pile of blankets you were wrapped up in. 

He called your name again, a bit louder, and you finally stirred, rolling over to look at him with bleary eyes.

“Morning, Leon,” you sighed out, rubbing the sleep from your lashes.

“Mornin’,” was his gruff reply, dragging his fingers through his hair. “You still determined to go exploring today? Even after what happened with the bear?” 

You grinned lazily, turning to face him and propping yourself up on your elbow. “Of course I am. You think a lil run-in with the local wildlife will deter me? Clearly, you haven’t been paying attention.” 

He could argue he’d been paying too much attention, but he’d never say it aloud.

You continued, “Besides, I have a big, strong man to protect me.”

He scoffed, shifting his face away from you so you couldn’t see the blush spreading there. “Oh, yeah? Who’s that?” 

You rolled your eyes before slowly dragging yourself out of bed and sauntering over to him, crossing your arms. “You, silly. Now hurry up and get dressed. We got a big day ahead of us.” 

Before he could protest, you were out the door.

He blew air through his teeth and shook his head, begrudgingly getting to his feet. He looked down at Wolfie, who wagged his tail but didn’t move to leave his cushy dog bed. “Women, am I right?”

He quickly got dressed, cursing the fact he didn’t own a single thing that fit him. He wasn’t sure why he cared, as if a change of clothes would make you interested in a monster.

Your flirtations admittedly affected him, but he wasn’t going to kid himself into thinking you’d ever be attracted to him like this. And for your safety, it would be better if you weren’t. You were strange, sure, but you were still human. Human and fragile, he had to be reminded.

Pulling himself together, determined to keep his distance and stop flirting with you, he made his way down the stairs to face you once more.

As he turned the corner, however, the sight that greeted him made him stop in his tracks.

You had just finished changing, walking out of the side room when you saw him and smiled, doing a little twirl with the outfit you were wearing. “You like it? I bought this shirt just the other day.”

He couldn’t prevent the way his eyes raked over your form, taking in the fashionable boots, tight jeans, and puffy-sleeved baby doll top that sat low and tight across your chest. You had even done your makeup and styled your hair in a high ponytail, front pieces of it dangling to frame your face.

It hadn’t even been five minutes and you were already testing his resolve.

Unfair. 

“Well?” you prodded when he only stood in silence.

He cleared his throat and nodded, trying to act cool. “You look… nice. Not sure how comfortable it’ll be to hike around in all day, but you do you.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing past him and into the kitchen. “I think I’ll be just fine.”

The rest of the morning was spent eating breakfast and setting up for the next trip, though there was a heavy tension Leon was suddenly aware of. It had always been there between the two of you, but it had been a slow, simmering thing. Something manageable.

Now, though? It felt like the pot might overboil.

He had to stop himself from staring at you multiple times, trying desperately to be the gentleman his mother raised him to be. He didn’t want you to think he was a pervert on top of being a literal monster. He had to have some principles to hold on to, after all.  

It’s not like you knew how deeply you were affecting him, anyway. And if he could help it, you never would.

The day’s journey was a bit strenuous, having a lot more ground to cover than the one prior. He decided it was best that Wolfie remain behind, the dog cozied up on his little bed as you were leaving.

Once you exited the house, Leon kept his eyes peeled for that bear again, or any other potential danger, not wanting a repeat of yesterday’s events. Still, he couldn’t help but smile softly at the way you approached every new area with such awe and excitement. It was strange to see someone find such joy in a location he’d deemed his own personal hell. It almost made him appreciate the place, to see it through your eyes. 

Almost.

The two of you visited the farm and the lakeside settlement, returning to the gate of the villa to eat your lunch at the table inside. 

After you finished your meal, you bit your lip the way you always did when you were deep in thought. The action drove him a little crazy, but he ignored it.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

“Do you think we’ll have time to explore the castle today?”

He sat back in his seat to consider it, glancing out the nearby window. “Well, we’re making good time. Still got a few hours of daylight. If you don’t dawdle too much on the way there, we probably could.” 

You beamed at him, an excited squeal leaving your mouth. “Fuck yeah! I’ve never been to real a castle before!”

He couldn’t deny the self-satisfaction he felt at the idea of providing you with so many new experiences. If there was anything he was sure of, it was that you’d never forget your time here, and that would be a good enough turnout for him.

He smiled in return. “Well, let’s get to changing that.”

Leon had been through the area many times over the years, clearing the paths that had been obstructed when he was chased around it a decade ago. It was still a difficult trek, especially for a human, and the two of you had to stop occasionally so that you could catch your breath and drink some water. 

He didn’t mind it one bit, finding himself observing the sun glinting off your sweat-slick skin. Your makeup was holding up surprisingly well, though the loose strands of hair you had pulled from your ponytail were beginning to stick slightly to your face. His eyes drifted to your chest, watching it rise and fall with your every breath.

“Okay, we’re good to keep going,” you told him, thankfully unaware of his gaze, which he quickly turned forward.

Eventually, you made it to the rickety old bridge that led to the burnt-down slaughterhouse. Leon had repaired it as best he could in the early days of his transformation, wanting an easy way to get around the area. He found he could jump over the ravine with his new superhuman abilities, but it was still a precarious leap.

He went to stroll across the wooden planks, held together by rope, when he noticed you hadn’t moved to follow.

He raised a confused brow at you. “Well, c’mon.”

You swallowed as you approached the bridge, nervously stepping onto it. Your knees buckled when you looked down and saw how high up you were. He easily caught you, and you held on tightly to his arm for balance. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he mused. “Little miss thrillseeker is scared of heights?”

“Not… usually. More scared of how rickety this thing is than anything,” you grumbled. 

Your grip on him was bruising, but he didn’t mind. “We crossed another one just earlier and you seemed fine.”

“Well, this one isn’t nearly as sturdy, is it?” you snapped, letting out a shaky exhale as you tried to take another step.

He looked thoughtfully at you for a moment, deciding to take a risk by sweeping you off your feet and holding you up in his arms.

“Leon!” you yelped, wrapping your hands around his neck fearfully. “What the hell?!”

He chuckled lightly as you peeked over your shoulder. “Don’t worry, bunny, I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”

You pivoted to face him with wide eyes, your face reddening. “Aren’t I too heavy for this?” you questioned nervously.

He scoffed. “I could pick up a car, easy. This is nothing.” 

“I more so meant the bridge. Wouldn’t want to break it with both our weights combined, right?”

He shook his head. “Do you trust me?”

You stared at him for a few moments but eventually nodded timidly. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then trust,” he began, taking a step forward, “that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“Okay,” you squeaked, holding onto him tighter. You buried your face into the crook of his neck so you wouldn’t have to see the way the creaking bridge swayed with every movement.

He carefully worked his way across without concern, enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. You were delightfully warm as you pressed against him, and the feeling of your breath sweeping over his throat forced him to suppress a shiver.

Regretfully, he made it to the other side, setting you down on solid ground once more. “See? Not so bad.”

You seemed flustered, likely because of your nerves concerning the old bridge, taking a moment to adjust your clothes and hair that were rumpled slightly by the ordeal. “I guess not.”

The two of you began the brief hike to the castle after that, Leon feeling the absence of your body heat so intensely, it was worrying. Whatever this was between you, it was getting out of hand, and Leon was apparently unable to keep his distance.

He had never been particularly good at saying what he wanted, but that never stopped him from seeking it out as if he were a damn homing missile. His interactions with Ada in the past were proof of that. He would have followed her anywhere if he were able. If she had let him.

He banished thoughts of her from his mind, an easier task after a decade of doing it over and over again. His thoughts of you, however, were a different beast altogether. 

He figured, though—he hoped—that once you left, he’d learn to push away his feelings for you, too. At least he had practice.

He was pulled from his introspection when he heard you practically scream in excitement as you came around the bend in the path, the massive, sprawling castle revealed to you.

“Oh my god! Just look at it! It’s huge! And the structure? Friggin’ impressive!” you gushed as the two of you approached the gate.

He grinned down at you and could almost see the stars in your eyes. “Wait 'til you see the inside.”

Your joy was nearly infectious as you explored the area, dragging him around from place to place and only letting him lead when you needed directions. He didn’t mind it, happy to trail after you as you oohed and aahed at damn near everything you saw.

He watched as you admired the flowers in the courtyard, the blooms unruly due to years of neglect, not yet killed by the autumn chill. Once you had turned your back on the bed of red carnations, he couldn’t fight the urge to pluck one from the dirt.

He strolled up behind you as you cooed over the bluebells, offering it to you when you faced him again. “For you.”

You looked surprised at first, but your expression melted into a sweet smile. “Thank you, Leon.”

Before you could reach out to take it, he bent forward and gently tucked it behind your ear, standing upright to get a full view. “Suits you.” 

You seemed almost bashful for a moment, looking away. Trying to fluster you was rapidly becoming his favorite pastime.

Quickly as it had come, your almost shy demeanor disappeared, a twinkle forming in your eye as you plucked a stem of the bluebells and stuck it into Leon’s back pocket. “There, now we’re even.”

He chuckled at the action, finding your reciprocity charming, and the two of continued your journey onward.

You eventually entered the grand hall, and when you finished appreciating the opulence of the marble walls alone, you began to take in the decor.

“You said you like the artwork in the castle, right?” you questioned, pointing at a large landscape painting in front of you.

Leon nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind putting most of these up at my place.”

“Well… no one’s stopping you,” you goaded, grinning at him slyly. “I think this one would look perfect in the dining room, don’t you agree?”

He laughed, running his hand over the back of his neck as he considered it. “I don’t know, it’d be a hassle to bring them all the way to the house.”

“Sure,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “But don’t you think it’d be worth it to spruce up the place? Make it a bit more… homey? Besides, we could just take them out of the frames and roll them up. Make our own. It could be a fun little DIY project, and it’s not like you aren’t swimming in lumber.”

“Fine, I’m convinced.” He sighed, admitting you had a point. “You’d make a decent car salesman, you know that?”

You scrunched your nose at the thought, helping Leon remove the heavy frame from the wall, although he didn’t need it. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” 

Leon smirked, allowing you to gently pull out the canvas, rolling it up. “Just an observation.”

You clicked your tongue in faux offense, continuing the task at hand. 

The two of you collected six different paintings, which Leon was now stuck with holding for the rest of the trip. It was a nuisance, but at least having something in his grip prevented him from acting on his impulse to reach out and touch you. 

Finally, you came across the library, and he knew you could spend an eternity going through the seemingly endless amount of books that lined the shelves as soon as you entered. You were about to make yourself comfortable and start reading to your heart’s content, but Leon had to remind you of your limited time. 

“But this place is a gold mine!” you told him with a pout, the expression so damn cute, it tested his already crumbling resolve. 

“Look, there’re still places to visit, and you have a few more days. We can always come back if you want,” he proposed.

You sighed exaggeratedly but gave in as he thought you would. “Fine, but you can’t stop me from taking some of these,” you informed him, shoving several books into your bag.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Afterward, he led you into the ballroom, and the way you gazed around in amazement at the sheer size of it made him chuckle. 

“Imagine the parties in this place…” you mused. You dropped your backpack on the ground suddenly, marching to the center of the floor. “You know how to waltz, Leon?”

“Can’t say I do, unless you count slow-dancing at prom. Even then, I’m probably a little rusty.”

“Well, set down those paintings and get over here, mister. I’m gonna teach you how to dance like a prince,” you demanded earnestly.

“Seriously?”

“Please..?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, and despite his reluctance, he found it difficult to say no to you.

He gave out a long-suffering sigh, placing the paintings against the wall and meeting you where you stood. “If I step on your toes, you only have yourself to blame, bunny.”

You smiled up at him. “A risk I’m willing to take.”

Slowly and carefully, you put his hands into their proper positions; one in your own and the other resting against your waist. You coached him on how to move, and he followed your lead at first, stiff and awkward in his motions. Within a few minutes, though, he quickly picked up the rhythm and you allowed him to take charge, giggling as he spun you around the room.

“You’re a natural,” you complimented, rubbing your thumb against his shoulder where your hand was placed. He found himself doing the same to your side and was enthralled with the shiver that ran through your body, proof that maybe he had even the slightest effect on you.

“What can I say—” he started.

“You’re a quick study?” you teased, echoing his earlier words.

“No, actually,” he corrected, pulling you a little closer. “I was going to say, ‘I have a great teacher’.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure you were.”

After a few more blissful minutes, Leon begrudgingly slowed to a halt and released you from his grasp. “Well, we better get a move on. It’s our last stop for today.”

You went to grab your backpack but he prevented you, telling you to leave it as you’d be coming back through, anyway. You nodded, following him to the final destination.

You laughed with pure glee when he brought you into the throne room, immediately bounding towards the massive, gilded seat. You took your time studying it, running your fingers over the intricate carvings along the sides before pressing down on the red cushion to test its comfiness.

“Well, go on. Sit,” he encouraged, crossing his arms over his chest.

You beamed at him before putting your attention back on the chair, turning and gracefully perching on top of it.

“Look at you, practically made to be royalty,” Leon told you as he approached.

He was joking, but there was truth in it. Seeing you sit on the ornate piece of furniture with one leg crossed over the other and your arms draped upon the sides of it was truly a sight to behold. He didn’t know you could appear so regal, even if it was for pretend. 

“Made for it?” You hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Perhaps I just inherited the throne, the only remaining family of the recently deceased king.”

“Mm, and what would that make me, your Highness?” he questioned, tilting his head. He stood before you now, and he would’ve been remiss not to notice the playful gleam in your eye as you raked your gaze over him. 

“You can be my loyal knight,” you told him, nodding your head. “There are those that transpire against me in this very court, sir. I would need someone diligent and strong to watch for my usurpers, after all.” 

“A knight, huh?” Leon mused, coming up beside you and tracing a clawed finger along the back of the chair. “Not the fierce dragon holding the fair maiden hostage while she waits for someone brave or stupid enough to come looking for her?” He kneeled beside you, then, resting his elbows on the arm of the throne, his chin pressed on top of his folded hands. “No one’s managed to get past me yet. Sorry to tell you, princess.”

You shifted in the chair to face him, fingers splayed out on either side of his arms. “Even better… we could be Beauty and the Beast. A lonesome prince cursed to a monstrous form until he finds true love. And, of course, I’m only here to trade my life for my father’s, who had been terribly rude to sneak into your home unannounced. He’s a bit of an eccentric, you must know, but he’s a good man. And I’m eventually charmed by your uncouth mannerisms and prickly personality.” 

“Uncouth and prickly? Ouch,” Leon chuckled. “Well, how does it end, then? Does true love turn me back into a human? That would be nice.”

“If we’re following the original tale, sure. But I have it on high authority that Beauty might have been more disappointed by the transformation than relieved.”

Leon raised his brows at that. “Disappointed the Beast turned back into a prince?” 

“I’m sure she didn’t complain, of course. He was handsome, after all, and still the man she fell in love with, but… Beauty loved the Beast in part due to his monstrous form, not in spite of it.”

“Beauty sounds like a freak,” Leon quipped, though your words made something of a home inside of his chest, curled up and warm. “I bet you think The Little Mermaid should have kept her tail, don’t you?” 

You bit your lip as you mulled it over, and he struggled not to stare at how the soft flesh gave under the pressure of your teeth, his eyes jumping back to meet yours almost guiltily as you finally replied, “Although I think the story would have been infinitely more interesting if she had, there’s something to be said about sacrifice in the name of love. It was a little unfair, though.”

“Unfair?”

“Well, why did she have to sacrifice everything for the prince? She gave up who she was on a fundamental level just to be with him. And what did he give up? He was still a prince. He was still handsome and rich. And then he got a beautiful girl so desperate to be with him, she’d trade her family, her friends, parts of her own body, her voice—just to get a chance with him. Feels a little unbalanced, doesn’t it?”

You were closer now, and he realized you both had shifted toward each other, like gravity itself had a hand in it. His tongue ran along the back of his teeth as he studied you and that smile dimpling your cheeks. 

If it were gravity, you must have been the sun, then.

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” he responded. “What other wise inferences do you have for me, princess?”

You giggled and the sound might be imprinted in his brain forever. “Oh, so many, it’ll make your head spin.” 

“Guess I have a lot to learn,” he replied, grinning. 

“Definitely, but I think the biggest lesson here is that it's all a matter of… perspective.” 

“I can’t believe anyone would want to overthrow you with smarts like that, your Highness. Sounds like you’d be a great ruler.”

“And that’s precisely why they seek to steal my crown, dear sir. An intelligent woman is a dangerous one,” there was a teasing lilt in your voice that made him suck in a harsh breath, your expression so open and light juxtaposed with the intensity of your eyes trained solely on him. 

A silence stretched on between you as you simply stared at each other, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest—could hear your own do the same, though he wouldn’t dare hope it meant what he wanted it to.

You made him feel human.

But then he saw his own reflection in your eyes, and the sight of his sharp teeth was the reminder he needed that he wasn’t human, and he never would be again.

He supposed his curse couldn’t be broken.

And so he pulled away.

“We should get back to the house. It’s a long walk,” he told you, looking at the floor instead of you, afraid he might do something rash if he met your gaze for a moment longer. 

You let out a shaky breath, blinking as if you were pulled from a daze, and stood. “Yeah, right. Of course.”

You grabbed your pack from the floor in the ballroom and he took the rolls of paintings leaning against the wall, the two of you rushing to leave the old castle behind. 

And, with the awkward quiet that settled between you as you journeyed back to his home, both of you unable to meet the other’s eye…

It was a long walk, indeed.

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

Masterlist | Previous | Next

[ch4osworld]

THE PASSENGER

Chapter 7

Words:622 @cherry-4200 @adaizel

Ehi so ik it's been a lot since I last published, i just lost motivation to write, as my aot obsession came back. Honestly I was thinking of dropping this fic for a while, but something posessed me and i decided to continue it. Expect slow updates and probably some oneshots of another fandom(cough cough aot) in the meantime, hoping be good at characterizing the characters as my writing is pretty shitty.

Not proofread!

"What..." You said, eyes full of dread, and preoccupation. Lucifer didn't dare to say anything else, it was just you and him in silence. Not the comfortable one you were used to, no. This silence expressed dread, fear, hollowness. A thousand questions flooded your mind. What were you going to do? Can this be stopped? Will you fight or will you stay inside like you always did?

You finally mustered to courage to murmur something "What are we going to do?" Lucifer looked at you. You couldn't quite catch what he was feeling. His eyes were dark, full of apathy untill he replied "We're going to fight, that's what me and the others are going go do" what does he mean by him and the others? Was he planning to leave you here? Again? Seriously? Oh no you were going to have none of that "I'm coming too" you demanded coldly. He stared at you surprise "Oh no, nononononono. You are going nowhere near there. That's my business" "Your business? I am technically involved in that mess too it's also my business! I have all the right to go there and do something instead of always being the one at home doing nothing!" you caterwauled

It didn't take long for him to respond to your complains "Can't you understand! You are too important I can't risk you going there who knows what could happen to you! You don't know what you're talking about" "I do know what I am talking about!" You argued back as you defiantly crossed your arms across your chest "And so what if I get hurt! It's not like I am going to die for good anyways. Did you forget that I am technically still a human? There is no risk for me going there" "No risk?! NO RISK?! That is the whole point. You are still a human, do you have any idea how easy it is to hurt you? You should know better than anyone else how fragile humans are!" You were getting tired of arguing with Lucifer, you gave him a glance and shouted "You know what? Forget it, fine i'm not coming then. I'll just stay here acting like a damsel in distress like I always did! Now just leave me alone!" And you stormed off to your room.

Lucifer was in shock, he really didn't know what to do. You said you weren't going to go, but where your words to be taken with truth? He knew you too well, far too well peraphs. He really wanted to stop you, he really did, but oh were you making this hard for him. Deep down he knew he wouldn't make it, that's why he would try any way to make you stay inside. He went around, barricating every and any exit you could have used, before storming to his room and thinking of what else he could do.

You closed the door to your room, carefully locking it with your key. You could hear some rustling outside, who knows what he's up to now. You sighed, slowly making your way to your bed, throwing yourself on it. Ugh he could be so annoying sometimes, so overprotective...so selfish, going to that battle alone without you by his side, helping him. You looked at the fainth light coming from your slightly open window. You knew you couldn't make it, you probably would have died, but you don't care. You are not afraid to die, to sacrifice yourself for the ones you truly loved. You were going to go on that battle, and there was nothing Lucifer could do about it. You slowly closed your eyes, calmness lulling you to sleep, determined for what was to come.

[random-thot-generator]

Love Thy Frenemy + Ch. 3

(Frenemies/Tenderness AU)

Three: The Purgatory Between

[via GIPHY]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Frenemy Fem Reader

Summary: It’s been a month since Simon rejected you, and you’ve taken steps to distance yourself from him, but you’re still struggling to let him go. Then an unexpected turn of events brings him back into your orbit and you find yourself at a crossroads, forced to make a decision you’re not sure you’re ready to make.

Warnings/Tags: Profanity, Angst, No Y/N

(Notes: ngl, this one got to me a little bit while writing it...)

Word Count: 2608

CHAPTER 3

“Angst is not the human condition, it’s the purgatory between what we have and what we want but can’t get.” ― Miguel Syjuco, Ilustrado

November came to Banfield with a chill wind and a dusting of frost. Cold air seared your lungs as you walked towards the pub, steps brisk and breath fogging. Trailing your fingers over the pickets of a fence, you peered down at your phone to check the time, then replaced it back in your pocket with a sigh.

It was supposed to be your day off, but you were going in to cover for Fiona, the barmaid Ollie had hired over a month ago. Her mum had taken a spill down the slippery front steps of their flat that morning and was in hospital being treated for a mild concussion, so Fi had asked you to cover her shift that night. While you were more than happy to help out a friend, you were not looking forward to working the nightshift again.

He would be there, and you didn’t want to see him.

You scowled as the big Manc invaded your headspace once again. You were so tired of thinking about him, but that seemed to be all you could do these days. If you weren’t rehashing his rejection, you were trying to fathom what motivated him to behave the way he did, then and now.

You had been ghosted before, but never quite like this.

After Riley’s rejection, he had subsequently avoided you, which was not surprising at all. You had predicted that was what would occur, had expected it, having survived a sinking ‘ship before. When he didn’t show up the following evening, you took it in stride and stiffened your upper lip, bearing the inquisitive stares of your regulars in silence. As the week wore on and he still had not shown his masked face in the pub, those inquisitive looks turned sympathetic and then pitying. This too you bore with stoic resolve, even as the subtle humiliation of it burned like smoldering embers in your chest.

Then he just showed up one night, out of the blue. He glared around the pub after he entered, as if he expected someone to do or say something to challenge his presence there, but everyone kept their eyes trained on their own pints and waited until he had taken his usual seat at the bar before daring to cast surreptitious glances his way. You waited until he was settled in his seat before you forced yourself to walk down to his end of the bar, doing your best to keep your expression neutral as you asked, “Your usual?”

His eyes had lifted no further than your throat as he grunted an affirmative and then made a show of looking away, as if your mere presence was an annoyance to him. You made his drink and slid it over, not even getting a nod of acknowledgement from him for the service. He spent the rest of the night behaving this way, sitting at the end of the bar, glowering over his drink in silence while blatantly ignoring you. It had been humiliating to be so publicly snubbed, and in front of your regulars, no less. When he returned the following night and behaved the same way again, you rang Ollie the next morning and asked to be switched to days.

Since changing shifts, you only saw Riley from a distance now, and only occasionally. Sometimes you’d see him entering one of the shops or wandering the aisles in the market. In those situations, you gave him a wide berth, going in the opposite direction to avoid him. Other times, you would be walking to or from work and notice his dark gray Gladiator passing by or see it parked along the curb. You never slowed, never looked over, never acknowledged him at all, just kept your eyes facing forward as you continued on your way. It wasn’t easy ignoring him, and these brief sightings always took their toll, leaving you feeling tired and restless and impotent.

If you had to describe your current emotional state, you would liken it to being in a perpetual state of limbo. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the next thing to happen because it just didn’t feel finished yet. You still went about your day as you normally would, kept going through the motions, but try as you might, you simply couldn’t ignore the gaping hole he had left in your world. It irked you that he had made such an impact on your life, that he had left such an indelible mark on your existence, that it had altered your very state of being.

It just didn’t make any bloody sense. You had known him for less than a year, the relationship itself never venturing outside the friend zone. There was no reason for your heart to ache this much but ache it did, and it made you miserable. It was both frustrating and confusing to have to carry these feelings with you all the time, to go to bed with them and wake up with them every single day. You were tired of it hanging around your neck like some bloody albatross weighing you down. You wanted these useless feelings to shrivel up and die already, so you could get back to some semblance of a normal life.

As you came upon the White Dog, that old saying, ‘Be careful what you wish for,’ popped into your head. You were about to walk straight into the metaphorical lion’s den and face the cause of all your woes, so you tried to mentally gird your loins for the battle ahead. You’d be face-to-face with him again, but you were determined not to break this time. You would serve him drinks and chat with the regulars and clean up the bar like everything was perfectly fine. Even if it bloody killed you.

You stopped just outside the pub and took a fortifying breath. You can do this, you told yourself, then opened the door.

As soon as you entered the bar room, Ollie was there to greet you, his stern expression taking on a gruff sort of affection as he looked you over. “Sorry ya had t’come in on yer day off, love.”

You shrugged and offered him a little smile. “It’s alright, Ol. I don’t mind. Besides, it’s a Tuesday. I expect things will be pretty slow tonight.”

Ollie hummed in agreement, loading a few glasses into the dishwasher. “If it’s dead before closin’ time, go ahead an’ close up shop early, doll. No sense in you hangin’ about if there’s no customers.”

You tried not to wince at the nickname. After hearing Riley refer to you as ‘doll’ for months, both the regulars and the staff had picked up on the habit as well. Hearing others call you by the pet name only served to keep him at the forefront of your mind, another small but effective means of torture. You gave your boss a tight-lipped smile. “Sure thing, Ol.”

When the pub reopened for business, Ollie hung around long enough to make sure you would be alright on your own and then took his leave. Your old regulars began to wander in as the day grew later and the shadows began to lengthen across the floor. You smiled, served drinks and waited, your eyes darting to the entrance every time someone passed through the door.

Riley showed up just after sunset, coming in with a cold wind blowing at his back. Conversation became subdued as he paused to stare at you standing behind the bar, your steady gaze meeting his as your regulars held a collective breath. There was only the slightest of nods in acknowledgement from him, or perhaps it was simply him accepting the situation. Either way, he went to his seat at the end of the bar and sat down. When he was settled, you strolled down to him and tilted your head. “The usual?”

There was a moment’s hesitation, and you watched him blink his eyes shut before finally nodding. “Yeah,” was his croaked reply.

You gave him a curt nod and made his drink, sliding the two fingers of Dewar’s to him, ready to turn and walk away. His warm, dry fingers wrapped over yours before you could move your hand, and you glanced down at his hand then back up at him, a confused frown knitting your brows together. He didn’t meet your eyes at all, instead keeping them closed as he held you there for a moment longer, the pads of his calloused fingers grazing over your skin before he let you go with a slow exhalation. His expression bordered on pained before he dropped his head to hide his masked face within the shadows of his hood.

It felt as if his fingerprints had been seared into your flesh, and you found yourself rubbing the tingling space between your thumb and forefinger again and again. You could still feel where his calloused fingertips had caressed your skin. and you wondered what he had meant by doing it. What was trying to convey with that brief but intimate touch?

As the night wore on, the customers began to thin out, drifting back to their homes in twos and threes, the room growing ever quieter, until at last it was just you, Riley and dear old Ned. It felt like things had come full circle, in some weird sort of way. When Ned began to snore, you huffed a quiet laugh.

Riley slanted a glance your way. His tumbler had been sitting empty for the last hour, but he’d declined another drink. He just sat there, silent and brooding, shoulders hitched up around his ears, spinning the glass slowly back and forth between his big hands. You got the sense that he was waiting for something, but what you couldn’t guess.

Your phone dinged, buzzing like a bee against the wood of the bar as it vibrated. You turned off the alarm and sighed. “Last orders,” you murmured.

Riley stopped turning the glass and held it between his hands, fingers flexing around it before he slowly pushed it towards you. He stood then paused, head down, hands curling into tight fists at his sides. He was struggling with something, you knew. You had seen him act this way before, but whatever it was must have been too overwhelming for him. Grabbing his coat from the back of his seat, he spun on his heel and marched towards the door, steps hurried, body tense.

“Good night, Riley,” you said softly from behind him, and his steps faltered. He stopped, hand resting on the door latch, head bent forward. You heard him inhale a slow, deep breath, heard it hiss out with a relieved sigh. “‘Night, doll,” he finally rumbled out, his voice sounding so tired and defeated. Then he left.

You stared after him, a feeling like deja vu making the moment seem surreal. Shaking your head, not sure what to make of what had just occurred, you huffed, frustrated and went to wake up Ned.

After seeing off Ned and his wife, you went back inside, locking the door behind you. Going to the supply closet, you gathered your cleaning supplies, then set about wiping down the tables and flipping the chairs. When the knock sounded at the door, you jumped, then blew out a breath as you squeezed your eyes shut and listened.

Three knocks, a pause - a little longer than usual, and then the fourth and final knock.

Riley.

You sucked in a deep breath, eyes glued on the locked door, debating. Finally, you blew out the breath in a tired huff and called out, “Yeah?”

“Doll...”

You waited a beat, grimacing before you answered. “Yeah, Riley?”

You heard a light thud on the door and drifted closer. He was standing so close to the door, his body was blocking out most of the light from outside, his fingertips casting twin sets of shadowed ovals against the frosted glass. The thud you had heard must have been his head, because it was still pressed against the door as well.

“Riley, what—”

“‘M not good at talkin’,” he said to the door, through it, to you. “Not good at explainin’ things— m’feelin’s an’ the like.” He paused, but you didn’t say anything, giving him the time to process his thoughts into words. “I wish it could be different, doll. Wish I could fix it, change it somehow, but I can’t. There’s not much I can offer ya.”

You stepped closer, teeth worrying at your lip. With the barrier of the door between you, he was able to finally talk, but he was hesitating again, his silence stretching out. “I’m here, Riley,” you said to the door, your hand coming up to press your hand against his. You could feel his warmth through the glass, and your chest constricted.

There was another thud as he bumped his head against the door again. “I didn’t mean t’hurt ya. There was better ways o’ sayin’ what I did, but ‘m not used t’bein’ careful wif m’words. Didn’t bloody think at all before I opened my stupid gob,” he muttered, and you sniffed in amusement. He blew out a breath. “I can’t be what ya need, doll, what ya deserve, not with the life I lead. Ya’ve seen what soldierin’ does to a man. I’ve heard ya talk about yer da before, so ya know what it does to the people that love men like me an’ him. I-I can’t put ya through that, love. I— I just can’t.”

“Riley...”

I miss ya, doll. I’ve missed ya since I walked out tha’ night an’ I’ve not stopped missin’ ya. Yer... bloody hell... yer my friend, dammit, an’ ‘m sorry fer hurtin’ yer feelin’s an’ treatin’ ya bad. I don’t like ya bein’ mad at me, doll. I don’t want ya being mad at me anymore. I can’t... fuck... I can’t bloody stand it.”

Your heart was beating so fast, and your hands were shaking. You could feel the threat of tears at your eyes, felt them stinging in your sinuses. You sniffed, batting the tears away as you swiped at your nose. You promised yourself you wouldn’t break this time, but here you were again, a blubbering mess over this confounding man. You took a steadying breath and tried to calm yourself down.

If you opened that door, you knew you’d be opening yourself up to more heartache. If you opened that door, you’d be agreeing to take him as is, fucked up warts and all. You’d be walking back to him with your eyes wide open.

You took a step back, saw his shadow shift on the glass as he did the same.

Leave the door shut and he would go away, he would leave and not bother you again. He didn’t have to say it for you to know it was true. He was giving you the out, if that’s what you wanted. He was leaving it for you to decide.

You blinked, sniffed, then made up your mind.

Breathing out a shaky breath, you opened the door.

-

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[obsolete-stars-if]

Happy Anniversary

I know I'm late.... like over a month. LISTEN, it just slipped my mind. but to celebrate, how about a side snippet. The original anniversary is like, uhh 28th of May, but like.... it's only 1st July. gimme a break.

ANYWAY, i have been meaning to write this for some time now. But before chapter 8 came out, i couldnt and pushed it back a lot. and i finally had the motivation to do so. the next demon fight wont take me another year, so dw its not gonna be another anniversary snippet again.

So like... Mikhails POV of his fight. 1143 words, about 5min read time

“Mika..”, his voice sounds like it is about to break. It snaps you out of your frozen state. You haven’t seen him like this often, or before at all. "Are you abandoning General Vi? If you do now, her life shared with you is meaningless. Those who died for you, are meaningless. You will go out there and defeat the monster." Anyone else might have thought of it as an accusation. But you understand the meaning.

Save those who love you. Be good, defend your family, for they will die for you. It has always been like that. Your soldiers became your siblings at heart, the General as your father, General Vi has been a mother to you. Your kingdom was the home to protect, to make room to let all your family members spread their wings. As they deserve, and you’re turning your back on them. You really try to run away from them, the people who will die for you. Who love you more than any blood could offer. Who listened to your woes, celebrated your victories, and loved you in ways you never knew possible.  It is not an accusation, but a plea, from father to son. "You are not a soldier anymore, but you are their sibling, and you will defend your family." You know this all too well. You’re afraid your voice breaks if you speak, so you offer a nod.

He pulls you aside one last time before you return, he kneels to your height, and the folds that have scarred his face to nothing but anger and rage, turn into worry, it is way too much like…  “Do you remember my first battle?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He nods, “Saving you, it is haunting.” His hand travels to your hair, and he takes a strand and pushes it behind your ear, “But I do not regret it.” “Isko…” His name feels foreign in your mouth. “Now it is my turn to save you.” Isko lets out a soft breath, “You already have, my child.”

The fall back into the line is shocking, it feels like nature, being told where to stand, how to arrange yourself, get your weapon, and scan the fields. You never wanted to bring the war back home, you would smile through the pain, just to see your family, your people, happy for your return. And now you brought the war here. You wish you had flashes of those who died to your blade. But it has been too many to bother your mind.  You can’t have Adam in this mess, nor your siblings, let alone your spouse, you gave all up, swore to protect and submit to them, and you are the very thing threatening you.

The sound of the soldiers arriving travels not by air, but through the ground. It is just a show, you know it is, practiced movement, synchronized. And while it may strike fear into your people, watching them hide away, it has long lost its charm. What is training worth if you can’t bear to kill at the end of the day? When you stop right before you kill again, and the face of another young child clears in your vision, you decide that you cannot do this again. What was so special about the kid? Trying to recall their face is impossible, yet it feels so clear. And a whisper in the air reminds you, that you gave up on being a monster.

You dare to take a steadying breath. You’re not afraid, you haven’t been in years. The soldiers are children, you realize by nothing but their height. And the leader amongst them all, they stand at your height. Is that truly what it means to protect your family? To kill those who you’re stealing from. You don’t know. 

The sky is clear, the sun shining down on your skin, hot, burning you alive. This is nothing like the winters you spend up north. Those behind you stir when they realize what you already have. Children soldiers. And when you cross glances with it, it is the visage of those you ended. You cannot let your heart ache, as much as it desires to, it is not about want, but need. You need to protect those you love.

You push ahead, it does not matter if you know their faces or not, for they have already died before. They can die again, die an amount you cannot count, if it means protecting those you love, you would not trade a world in which you were not a soldier.  In which you stayed home, and not became siblings with every person your blood rules over. You must serve your people. Your family.

You only stop at the leader, steadying your sword, and you watch it take the helmet off. His hair falls below his shoulder blades, hair a rich brown, and eyes much too like Isko, much too like your own.  Never have you seen him before, but it is like a mirror, to who you are, who could’ve been, or maybe what you avoided. He takes his time watching your face, drinking in how you became frozen. 

“What a poor replacement,” his voice is like silk, “You killed me for this?” “I have not,” You answer. But he is unfazed by you.  “You killed me.” He repeats, “You killed the memory by claiming it. You took all these children and denied them a future. You claimed parents, children, lovers, and friends, in the name of your parents, siblings, lovers, and friends. Not only did you destroy their family by fire and your blade, but so did you destroy your family.”

Lies, these must all be lies.

“You couldn’t even die for your family. Truly, a pitiful imitation.” But you did not mean to die for them, you just needed the agony to stop, the nightmares, the faces, the pain in your heart when you saw your sibling's corpses, felt their light leave their eyes as you continued to force magic into their body, as you tried to save them. You meant to save them. Save your family. And one day, you knew, you could only save them from this pain if you stopped.

“I am the only one to judge you by the blood running through my veins. Which you so desperately tried to copy, and you may steal my place, my appearance, but Isko only had one child.” He lifts his sword, “You have committed crimes of blood, Mikhail, your own, the one on your blade, and the one you tried to claim. The Gods have sent me to judge you. And I have found you guilty on all accounts.”

[CHOICE]

→ [“May you no longer betray blood, family, and love.”] → [“I have never betrayed my blood, family, or love.”]

[kookiewithluv]

I just read the first chapter of Ashes of a Promise. And loved it until I got to your authors note at the end. ARE YOU CRAZY GIRL!? Garbage? How dare you! This was so good, I am already hooked! I can't wait for the next chapter! Shake off those silly doubts because this story is awesome.

Oh my gosh, thank you so much for your incredible comment! I seriously can’t tell you how much it means to me. I’m over here doubting everything like, “Who gave me the right to write?” 😂

I wrote that author’s note because, honestly, my brain is like a circus sometimes—filled with clowns and no real direction. I mean, I read my own stuff and think, “What even is this? 🤦‍♀️ So, hearing you say you loved it makes me feel like maybe I’m not totally losing my mind (yet).

But hey, if this story is garbage, I guess it’s gourmet garbage? Like that fancy artisanal stuff no one knows how to pronounce. 😂 I promise I’m shaking off those silly doubts—hopefully without shaking my laptop off the table in the process!

Thank you for being such a supportive reader! I’m already working on the next chapter, and your encouragement gives me all the motivation. Once again thankyou so much! 💖

[that1emowitch]

Fire #6 (Jason Todd & Child!OC)

Summary:

JAYROY JAYROY JAYROY (also Cass and Steph meet Nile, plot finally advances a bit more)

Rating: Teen & Up Audiences (there might be some swears and graphic descriptions of violence)

Word Count: 3359

A/N:

this was fun to write

Chapter 6: Harper

“JASON!” Nightwing screamed as he watched the green haze completely fill his brother’s eyes, as his body went limp and he fell to the floor. He sprinted forward and caught him, shaking him, trying to get him to wake up, but Jason didn’t move. He was barely breathing. “No no no—” 

The deafening silence that followed sent a chill down Nightwing's spine. He cradled Jason's lifeless body in his arms, his heart pounding in his chest with a mix of fear and desperation.

"Come on, Jay, don't do this," he pleaded, his voice choking with emotion. He knew the torment of the Lazarus Pit was overwhelming his brother, but he couldn't bear the thought of losing him again.

Oracle's voice crackled through his comm, offering support and guidance. "Dick, we need to get him back to the Batcave immediately. Penny-Wise is on standby, and we'll have all the medical equipment ready."

Nightwing nodded, his eyes never leaving Jason's unconscious form. Batman carefully lifted him from his arms, feeling the weight of their shared history press upon him. He couldn't let go of the guilt he felt for not being there for Jason when he needed him most. 

With a heavy heart, Batman gently carried his wayward son to the Batmobile. He carefully settled Jason in the backseat, feeling a pang of nostalgia as he remembered the days when Jason was a reckless teenager trying to steal the wheels of this very car. Where did all the time go?

Pushing aside his own feelings of failure, Batman focused on the road ahead. He couldn't let his emotions consume him, not when Gotham still needed her Dark Knight. His sense of duty and responsibility to the people of the city demanded that he remain strong and capable of protecting them.

Nightwing took his seat beside Jason, letting his head rest on his lap. Tears filled his eyes as he gently cradled his little brother. I can’t believe I didn’t realise he needed help before… Dick knew he hadn’t been the best brother back when Bruce first took Jason in— scratch that, he’d been the worst brother ever.

He’d been so mad that B gave his title, the name his mother gave him, to some random kid he picked off the streets. Robin had been everything to him, the only motivation for him to keep smiling and living, and Batman had taken that away from him. He’d been so angry. At Bruce. At Jason. Everyone. Only problem, it wasn’t Jason’s fault. 

He made Jason feel like shit for being Robin. On purpose. His mind wandered to the day his relationship with him had completely shattered.

"I’m Robin, and being Robin gives me magic!" Jason's innocent words echoed in Dick's head, but he’d refused to let sentiment cloud his judgement. "Magic isn't real, kid," Dick retorted, his voice tinged with impatience. "And you're not actually Robin. I am."

The young boy, never one to back down, shot back with a snarky remark, leaving Dick feeling even more incensed. "Firstly, have you ever met Zatanna?" Jason challenged, his eyes narrowing defiantly. "Also, you were Robin. It's me now."

The words hit Dick like a punch to the gut. A wave of anger surged within him, threatening to consume him. How dare this boy claim to be the true Robin? He couldn't accept that his legacy was being usurped by someone so young and inexperienced. The pain of Jason's arrival in Gotham and his subsequent role as Robin that still haunted Dick, Bruce not even telling him he’d found his replacement, Dick having to find out there’s a new Robin while on mission, and now, confronted with this new and brash version of his former mantle, it was all too much to bear. 

"You're an imposter, not the real deal," Dick snapped, his tone dripping with contempt. He couldn't hide the bitterness that seeped into his words. The weight of his years as Robin, the battles fought and sacrifices made, felt as if they were being diminished by Jason's presence. “Fuck off!” 

He almost took back his words when he saw the younger boy flinch back, his face contorted with hurt. “I don’t care what you think, Dickhead,” Jason answered quietly before  walking away.

He thought about that encounter for days, and he wanted to apologise, but that was the last time he saw him. He’d run off to Ethiopia just a few weeks later. When Dick was off-world with the Titans. He’d come back home, wanting to make up with Jason, just to find out he wasn’t here anymore. He was dead.

His grip on his unconscious brother tightened. I— I thought— when Jason came back, maybe I’ve got a second chance… I’ve gotta be the best big brother to him, to the others…  But he’d failed miserably. He would have never known Jason wasn’t okay if Tim hadn’t told him. Jason doesn’t even trust me enough to tell me he’s got a kid.

“Jaybird…” He muttered, caressing his cheek. He was getting cold, his pulse was weaker than it should be. I’m not going to lose you again. “I won’t abandon you again,” he whispered, even though he knew he couldn’t hear him. “I promise.”

“Orphan,” Red Robin’s voice crackled through Cass’s comm. “You free?”

She glanced down at the crime lord she was tracking, her focus unwavering. “No.”

“Oh– Uh, well, once you’re done, do you wanna hang out?”

"Busy," she replied tersely, determined to stay on task. She had to gather as much intel as possible before confronting this criminal.

“I’m calling Spoiler too,” Her brother tried to persuade her. “We need to—”

"Red! No. Sorry." Her response was quiet but resolute. She couldn't afford distractions right now. I have to find out who this idiot’s working with first.

She heard Red sigh through the comms. “There’s a baby.”

She skidded to a stop, her heart skipping a beat. Did I hear that right? “Baby?”

“Yeah,” Tim laughed. “She’s our niece. You have to meet her.”

“...”

“So, you coming?” He asked once again, his tone amused.

“...yes. Five minutes.”

Nile was fast asleep when Cass arrived. Tim, on the other hand, looked extremely sleep-deprived. He’d filled her in on the entire situation on her way here, so she knew Jason had impulsively adopted an adorable little girl, but she hadn’t expected her to be so adorable. She somehow resisted the urge to squish her, not wanting to wake her up.

Tim sat on the counter, just a few feet from the broken glass where Dick had broken into the apartment. He was researching more about Nile while Oracle tried to track down Jason. He held a steaming hot cup of black coffee in his hand. He must’ve raided Jason’s kitchen. 

She entered the house silently and stood by the open window, waiting for Tim to notice her. It took him a solid 5 seconds. “Hi,” He finally realised she was there.

“Slow,” she stated matter-of-factly, booping his nose. Someone could have killed him in those 5 seconds. Ignoring that for now, she turned her attention to the figure sleeping on the sofa. “Nile?” 

“Yeah,” Tim smiled lovingly. “Adorable, isn’t she?”

“HI GUYS!” A chirpy voice sounded as a glittery purple figure entered. 

“Shhh!” Tim warned, pointing to the sleeping Nile.

Steph gasped and covered her mouth. “oMg I’m so sorry…” She dropped her voice to a loud whisper. “Awww she’s so CUTE!!! Are you sure she’s Jason’s?”

Tim stifled a laugh. “She’s adopted, Steph. Just like most of us here.”

Cass smiled and took a seat beside the baby, deciding to watch over her silently. Steph walked over to Tim and snatched the coffee from his hands. “No more of that, Timbo. You’ll die of coffee overdose.”

“That’s not even a real thing!” He whisper-shouted, glaring at her.

“Sure is,” she countered, glaring back with more intensity.

Tim narrowed his eyes at her angrily but eventually broke eye contact. No one can win against Steph in a staring contest. 

Huffing, he changed the topic. “You girls need to see this. It’s footage I recovered from Hood’s helmet. Of the guys who were holding Nile hostage.”

He turned the computer so everyone could see it. A video started playing, showing a warehouse on fire. Tim skipped forward a bit then paused at a shot that clearly showed the criminals. “Look at their uniforms. Do you recognise them?”

Cass quickly scanned their uniforms. Made to look like the League of Shadows attire, but not completely. No visible logos or symbols. Seems to be fireproof. “Not League,” she offered.

“Yeah, definitely not,” Steph agreed. “They’re way too rash, and they seem untrained. Like goons for hire. The League would never let these idiots work for them.”

Tim sat back, thinking. “Who else would—”

“GUYS!” Oracle’s voice crackling through their comms interrupted him. “Bat and Wing found Hood. He— he’s not in the best state of mind. They’re taking him to the Batcave.”

“What?” Tim’s voice filled with worry for his predecessor. “Is he okay?”

He could hear Babs sigh wearily. “No, not really… There’s more. I just intercepted an encrypted payment from an anonymous buyer to Carmine Falcone along with Nile’s photo. Given how easily all of you broke in, Jason’s apartment clearly isn’t safe enough for her…”

“Falcone? Someone’s willing to pay a lot of money just to get her,” Steph pondered, glancing at the sleeping girl. “But why?”

“Not the priority right now,” Oracle ordered them. “Take her to the Batcave first. She’s safest there. And… I think it’s best if she’s there when Jason wakes up.”

Cass nodded silently and lifted the girl into her arms, gently cradling her. “You’re safe,” She promised her, vowing to protect this innocent soul at all costs. The three young heroes quickly wore their masks and started packing up their equipment. Steph had the idea to bring along as many of Nile’s clothes and toys as they could so that the girl felt safe when she woke up. They were about to leave when suddenly Tim noticed a phone vibrating on a far end of the counter.

Jason’s phone. He left it here. He’d almost forgotten about it. Must’ve been on silent mode this whole time. He checked the phone to see 13 missed calls and a hundred texts from a contact labelled “Arsenal”

“Uh, guys?” He questioned, unsure whether to call back. “Arsenal— Roy Harper has been blowing up Jason’s phone for the last 10 minutes… Should we tell him what happened?”

“Of course we should,” Steph voted. “Isn’t he, like, madly in love with Jason or something? He deserves to know.”

Tim turned to Cass, waiting for her opinion. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded.

“Okay, then. Let’s get going. We’ll call him on the way.”

Tim was filled with dread as he clicked the ‘call’ button. I’m not good at talking to people I barely know, and now I’m supposed to explain to Roy Harper how his boyfriend had a mental breakdown because of me and is on the verge of death?

He wished Roy wouldn’t pick up.

Of course, his wishes weren’t granted.

“JASON?” Harper’s worried voice filtered through the speaker. “Why the hell have you been ignoring me? Wh—”

“Harper,” Tim interrupted. “This is Tim Drake.”

“Drake?” The confusion in his voice was clear. “Where’s Jason?”

Tim cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh– see, um–”

“WHERE THE HELL IS JASON?” The older man was clearly angry and impatient. 

“In the Batcave’s med bay, half-dead.” Steph saved Tim with her blunt description. “He kinda had a complete mental breakdown. Pit Terrors again, I think.”

“What?” Roy’s voice broke. “Shit. I’m coming over. Tell Alfie I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Aren’t you in Star City? It’s like three hours away—” Roy hung up on them abruptly. Tim blinked, surprised. “Uh, okay…”

“WAIT, we forgot to tell him about Nile!”

“Where’re you going?” Roy heard his 7-year-old daughter ask him as he haphazardly packed a bag.

“Lian, sweetie, Daddy’s going to visit Uncle Jay-Jay, okay?” He pressed a kiss on her forehead. 

“Uncle? I thought Jay-Jay was your boyfriend?” She quipped. 

Roy's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "What? No, Lian, he's not my... Oh, never mind."

I kinda wish Jason was my boyfriend— that way, I could always be with him. I wouldn’t have to find out that he almost died from his little brother.

“Look,” He immediately changed the topic. “You’re staying with Dinah for a while. Be a good girl for her, okay?”

“When am I not good?” She asked, smiling and feigning innocence.

Dinah couldn't hold back her laughter from the doorway. "Don't worry, Lian, you're the sweetest little girl I've ever met."

Lian shot a triumphant look at her dad, as if to say 'see, I told you.' Roy sighed and rubbed his temples. This kid was a handful, and she definitely knew it.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. “No touching your bow or your arrows unless Dinah specifically says it’s okay, no going near anything that makes flames, no picking fights with your classmates. Oh yeah, and absolutely no candy after bedtime. You know how long you stay up if you eat candy at night.”

She frowned. “No, I don’t!”

Roy rolled his eyes. "Trust me, Lian, I've seen it. It's like watching a little Energizer bunny who’s taken five shots of pure caffeine."

Dinah chuckled and ruffled the girl’s hair lovingly. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t do anything like that, Roy. Don’t freak.”

“Ugh.” Roy zipped up his bag, finally done packing. “I’m leaving, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can. Please don’t give Dinah too much trouble.” He gave Lian a warm hug and a little kiss on her cheek before heading out the door. With a little salute as a gesture of gratitude towards his adoptive mother, he disappeared from sight, making his way to his car.

The silence of the car seemed starkly different from the chaotic scenes at his house. It offered a rare moment of solitude, a chance to let his thoughts churn. Jason's face flashed in his mind, imagining him tormented by the Pit's grip. Why didn't he ever share this with me? Their last conversation was only a week ago, and back then, he appeared so... fine...

I don’t wanna think anymore… It hurts too much… He adjusted the volume knob on the radio, hoping the blaring music would drown out the cacophony of thoughts. Yet, they persisted, like stubborn ghosts haunting his mind. Love shouldn't hurt like this... 

"Ugh!" The exasperated cry ripped out of him, a guttural release of frustration. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. This was ridiculous. Why did his heart have to be so damned loyal? Jason had moved on from whatever they used to share. It’s been more than a year.

"I'm such an idiot," he muttered bitterly to the empty car. "He doesn't feel that way about me anymore." 

The words felt like acid on his tongue, a painful admission he'd been trying to avoid.

“Forget it, Roy,” He tried to coach himself. “He’s still your best friend. And he needs you right now.”

I can’t forget it, though.

“It can wait.”

Roy stormed into the Batcave, his concern overriding any sense of propriety in the moment. Worry had driven him almost mad during the agonising hour he'd spent waiting, trapped in the solitude of his thoughts. "Where's Jason!?" he demanded, his voice echoing off the cave walls, the tension radiating off him like an electric charge.

Alfred Pennyworth, ever the composed butler, stepped forward to intercept the agitated visitor. "Sir, please do try to calm yourself," Alfred said with measured patience, his British accent offering a soothing undertone to his words. "Master Jason is in the med bay. If you would allow me, I'll be more than happy to guide you there."

Roy heaved a sigh, collecting himself and realising he had no right to unleash his anxiety on Alfred. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softening with genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to—"

Alfred waved off the apology with an understanding smile. "No need for apologies, Mr. Harper. Please, come with me."

As they walked to the med bay, Roy's heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of dread and hope swirling within him. And then, there he was—Jason, lying on the bed, swathed in bandages that seemed to cover his very soul. Tubes and monitors were the fragile threads keeping him tethered to life.

Tears welled up in Roy's eyes, blurring his vision as he took in the sight before him. The overwhelming wave of emotion threatened to drown him, but he fought to stay upright. Every beep of the heart rate monitor felt like a countdown, every shallow breath Jason took, a painful reminder of their shared past and his fragile present.

"He had several untended wounds that he must have ignored for days," Alfred's voice carried a weight of sorrow and regret as he provided Roy with the grim details. The butler's normally composed demeanour seemed to falter, revealing the depth of his concern for the young man lying unconscious before them. "We only discovered his Pit Terrors yesterday. It… It was nearly too late."

Roy's breath caught in his throat at the revelation, his mind reeling from the implications of what he was hearing. The image of Jason, suffering in silence, weighed heavily on his heart. He struggled to process the whirlwind of emotions that surged through him—worry, anger at himself for not realising sooner, and a profound sadness for the pain Jason must have endured.

Alfred's comforting hand found its way to Roy's shoulder, a gesture of support that managed to convey the elder man's understanding of the younger's turmoil. Roy's own emotions threatened to overwhelm him, and he felt his eyes welling up again. It was a battle just to find his voice amidst the storm inside him. "Thank you, Alfred," he managed to choke out, his words carrying a blend of gratitude and vulnerability.

With a gentle squeeze, Alfred offered a reassuring smile. "Feel free to take your time, Mr. Harper. I'm sure Master Jason would be pleased to wake up and find you here."

As Roy stood by Jason's bedside, watching the rise and fall of his best friend's chest, he wished more than anything that he could share his strength, his will to fight, and his unwavering support. His grip on Jason's hand was tight, fingers intertwining as if to physically convey the depth of his connection.

With each stroke of his thumb over Jason's palm, Roy hoped for a sign, a flicker of response that would break through the stillness that enveloped the room. Hours passed, marked only by the monotonous beeping of the heart monitor, each sound echoing like a countdown in his mind. Time seemed to stretch into an eternal moment of waiting, his heart heavy with longing.

His voice, a desperate whisper in the quiet room, held a mixture of pain and vulnerability. "Please, Jason… I can't lose you like this." His words hung heavy in the air, carrying with them all the unsaid feelings he had held close for so long.

"Man, there's so much I haven't told you. I need you to wake up... I need to tell you how much I love you."

A choked sob caught in his throat as the weight of his emotions became too much to bear. Tear-filled eyes remained fixed on Jason's still form, as if willing his friend to hear, to respond. "I love you so much, Jay... Please..."

The truth hung in the air, his admission raw and unfiltered. He wasn't sure if Jason could hear him, but he needed to say it, to let the words out into the universe. In the midst of his despair, Roy's grip on Jason's hand tightened even further, a physical manifestation of his anguish, of his plea for life to return to his beloved.

Suddenly, Roy felt his hand being squeezed back. His head snapped up as he rushed even closer to the bed. “Jason?”

A/N

JAYROY JAYROY JAYROY

[shane-mc]

The Punishment

Link to Chapter 2

A/N: I said Chapter 3 will take few more days but I was able to finish this earlier during my lunch break at work though this is a much shorter one. Also, I want to thank you for supporting my very first fanfic. You guys keep me motivated to continue writing. Well then, enjoy!

Chapter 3

The rest of the group heard Lilly's scream. They rushed to the bar counter where MC and Lilly are. Jake and Jessy were the nearest to MC so they came to her first. They were both shocked when they saw MC's hand.

Jessy: What happened to your hand MC?!

She tried to hold MC's wrist to look at her hand but she dodged her.

MC: Don't touch me Jessy! And don't act as if you're concerned about me!

Jessy went silent after what MC told her. Phil heard the commotion and rushed towards them.

Phil: MC, what did you do to your hand?! Are you drunk? Did you already finished the drink I gave you?

MC: No Phil, I'm still sober.

Phil: Oh God! If you're sober like this what more if you're drunk. Your hand needs medical attention MC.

MC: Phil, can you go with me to the hospital?

Phil: Of course, wait here I'll just tell one of my employees to take care of the bar while I'm gone.

Jake was shocked about what's happening. He knew so well the reason of MC's outburst. He's just been standing there looking at MC unable to speak. Suddenly, he grabbed MC's uninjured hand and tried to talk to her.

MC: Let go of my hand Jake! I hate you!

MC yelled at him while freeing her hand from his grip.

Phil came back and the two of them walked out of the bar making their way to the hospital. Jake just stood there frozen while watching Phil and MC as they disappear.

Lilly: How dare you do this to MC Jessy! You're her best friend but you betrayed her. And you Jake! I expected so much from you! I thought you have feelings for her. How can you do this? She cares so much about you and this is what she gets from you?!

Jessy and Jake was about to speak when Dan started to talk.

Dan: I was right from the start. You are a bad news to MC hackerman. How can you do this to her?! And with her best friend?! How dare you?!

Jessy already lost it with all the insults thrown to them

Jessy: Guys stop it!!! Before throwing us all the insults let us explain first. It's not what you think!

Cleo: Are you serious Jessy? You and Jake were acting like a couple flirting with each other and it's not what we think?! I noticed it earlier but I didn't talk because I don't want MC to get hurt but the two of you don't care about what she feels. You guys were so insensitive to act like that in front of her!

Jake: No Cleo it's not true! I care so much about MC and I never want her to get hurt!

Lilly: Oh really Jake? Because you just did. You broke her heart that lead her to hurt herself!

Jake: I know and I'll never forgive myself for that but please give us a chance to explain everything.

Lilly: Ok, explain to us everything before we change our minds. I don't know what kind of acceptable explanation for what you did but you better have one because I swear I'll never talk to the two of you again. You are my brother Jake but I can't accept what you did to MC and you Jessy, you're my friend even before MC but I truly care about her like a sister. I thought that's also how you feel about her but I guess I was wrong.

Jessy: Lilly please. Stop now with all the accusations and let us explain.

Lilly: Ok do it then.

Jake and Jessy started to explain everything while Lilly, Dan, and Cleo were listening.

[bigfrozenfan-fanfics]

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

When I think back to the beginnings of my novel, which was initially just a little ficlet about four years ago, around Anna's birthday, I realise that it was all born out of the single idea that for some reason Elsa no longer had any magical powers. It's also a fact that I was terrified of writing it at the time, so I asked on Tumblr who of the experienced writers there wanted to take my idea and write a multi-chapter fanfic. But no one was willing to do it and so I had to make the decision to try it myself - without any experience for a project of this size. At the time, I didn't even realise how big it would be!

To cut a long story short, I am glad that I dared to take this step!

But it was a long road - with many setbacks at the beginning. First i had to learn how to write and motivate myself repeatedly. There were so many days when I was just a finger's breadth away from simply giving up. If it wasn't for some fans and writers who encouraged me, gave me lots of tips and convinced me that my expectations for reactions from the Frozen fandom were a bit too high. Fortunately, I had also found a first beta reader from these ranks who helped me with the production of the first two chapters.

Therefore, I would like to take this opportunity to thank @fericita-s and @the-spaztic-fantastic once again. Also a big thank you to @the-sky-is-awake for the encouraging words during my very first attempt to write a fanfic (which I did not finish after the release of Frozen II, by the way).

Also, at that time, an anonymous reader who — to this day — doesn't have a Tumblr account, wanted to help me and who later turned out to be my most loyal fan and beta reader and became a real long-time friend. Our chats and planning — first on Twitter, later on Discord — are so extensive that it would fill more than an entire book. But we also talked about many private things. By the way, the idea of including music in my chapters came solely from him. The music later helped me a lot with my writing and thinking and it was not uncommon for me to have tears in my eyes when reading the finished chapters.

Thank you, HeinrichVSA, for the many years we worked together, for your friendship and, above all, for always believing in me. Until today! You've always cheered me up in bad times and motivated me to keep going and never give up. Thank you also for your advice on historical matters and for contributing some scenes in some chapters yourself and for creating the OC character Oswald Monrad and his daughter Stella for me. THANK YOU for everything!

Without the motivation provided by the comments from my loyal readers, I would probably have given up long ago, but the consistently positive feedback from them — even I always asked for criticism at the end of each chapter — has really given me immense pleasure and encouragement. With your comments, you all confirmed time and again that I must have done something "right" with 'The Broken Bridge'.

So many thanks to: @true--north @dronning-formynder05 @annaofthenorthernlights @karma26 (up to the beginning of part four, where the adult content began). You have made my many days sweeter and thank you for staying loyal to me all these years. The novel would not have been possible without you! Outside Tumblr I have to thank especially to lolita @_lola_lola on Twitter aka X, chainzsw on Discord (alias Winterdust--76 on Tumblr) and Kongelig_Historian on reddit. Many thanks also to HARU @xlayers for the commissioned wonderful fanart to many of my chapters.

Thanks also to all the Disney book and comic authors who have been a source of many of my ideas and have enriched the story. Especially when it comes to certain characters, such as Thord from "Lur Thief" by Georgia Ball, who unfortunately never received any recognition from Disney for her extraordinary comic book story, nor permission to write a planned sequel. Unfortunately! In my novel, I have tried to do my best to realise this and give Thord a well-deserved comeback as a villain.

But none of this would have been possible without the magic of the Frozen films, and all Frozen fans and fanfic writers would agree with me. We all love this magical world and would love to live in it. But at least in our stories we can bring this dreamland to life.

Let's all hope that the two planned Frozen sequels open up as big a world and as many new possibilities for new stories as the first two films did.

[yourknightofrage]

Lovely numbers from @coleslaww , who also made me realize my asks weren't open haha!

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

So, I usually know what I'm gonna title a fic pretty early on (at the 1k word mark at the latest) but when it comes to PICKING a title the fics fall under two categories:

a. i pick a few words that call back to a theme or aesthetic in the fic;

b. i am completely obsessed with a ship and associate them to a specific artist. In that case I'm just gonna lift lyrics from that artist that relate to the story.

Sometimes it's just that the song's vibes match those of the fic (Something So Magic- titled after Hozier's From Eden), but recently I've been... hinting at key emotional beats that are going to be in the story through that lyric.

(It Was An Honest Loss is a lyric from Little Soldiers by The Crane Wives, the full quote is "We didn't give up, we wouldn't dare surrender, it was an honest loss" and it ties to the end of Chapter 12 as both Vegas and Pete find themselves in a position where "winning" isn't possible.... at least in my head it relates haha)

24. Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

I don’t think it was bad advice as much as it simply doesn't go with how my mind works: "You don't need to write the story in a linear manner. Just write the scenes you want to and you'll fill the rest in later."

Unfortunately, wanting to reach that one (1) cool scene is the only thing motivating me to write, so if I did this i wouldn't publish anything cause without buildup the scenes don’t have emotional impact.

58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc)

Probably the outlining. I adore the brainstorming, trying to think of what could happen and how and what consequences it could have, but I always feel a bit guilty about keeping those ideas "just" ideas. Outlining has a lot of the same freedom as brainstorming, but it's also a first step towards producing something!

thank you so much for the interest, Alex, hope the answers were interesting!!