#i want to die but also maybe lets not be drastic

[han-solo-cant-dance]

Seasonal depression beating me to a bloody pulp again ✌👁👄👁

[hyperfixiation-station]

🥺 hi. I get so anxious asking for requests. So I’m sorry if it’s weird. But could I please please Pleaseee get a ghost x fem reader. Hurt to comfort. They were on a mission and she’s there for medic help. Not even to fight. But she got taken by the bad guys. And she gets tortured for information that she doesn’t have. And they play mind games with her. Making her think that they will never come rescue her. They really fully break her body and break her mind by the end of it. But before she thinks she’s about to finally die, Ghost and the others come and save her. And it’s about how the only person she feels safe with after all that is ghost and just him helping her heal and get back to the woman she was before all this. I want it to hurt my soul. 😭 but then there’s hope at the end of it bc they have each other.

My Heart Will Go On

Don't be, I love when people ask me things, and I looooved this request so much!!! I too like to torturehave fun with my OC's :)

TW: Blood, torture, manipulation

Pairing: GhostxReader

Part 2

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all, actually. It was just another mission, another day on the job. You went out with the boys as usual, their assigned medic as theyghost refused to work with anybody else. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was your soft demeanor, your gentle touch, the way you never judged himthem for anything hethey did. But whatever it was, they liked you, and so with them you went.

You hung back at the evac point, also as usual. Sitting in the truck, first aid kit on your lap, a comm in your ear as you listened to your boys and made sure they were all okay. It was a tense fight, gunshots and pained grunting filling your headset. You were on edge, rocking back and forth as you listened for your que to come in. In fact, you were so focused on the comms that you didn’t even notice the danger you were in until it was too late.

Your first cue something was wrong was when the comms went silent. The sounds of battle filled your ears for hours before getting cut off abruptly. Your hand shot to the comm link, fiddling with it as you frantically tried to reconnect, worried something was wrong.

“Ghost, do you copy?”

“Ghost?”

“Price?”

“Gaz?”

“Can you hear me??” Your voice got more and more panicked as you got no response. You yanked the headset off and shrugged your vest on, kit in hand as you slid out of the truck.

Your second clue something was wrong was when you looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at your face. You didn't even have time to ask ‘what’ before everything went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, princesa.” You blink hard as the blindfold is removed from your eyes. The light is blinding, the splitting headache you got from being pistol whipped only intensifying under the harsh lights.

“Who are you?” You manage after a moment, eyes slowly focusing on the man in front of you. He is large, easily over six foot, and built like an absolute unit. His face is covered by a black balaclava, though his scarred, tattooed forearms are on display.

“Don’t play stupid with me.” His voice is deep and smooth, and if you weren’t in the situation you are in you would have asked him to keep talking.

“‘M not! I don't-"

“Don’t lie to me Princesa. I don’t like liars.” A shiver runs down your spine as his tone darkens.

“But I’m-”

“Ah ah lovie, I am one asking questions here.”

“I wasn’t ask-”

“SHUT UP!” You flinch back at the drastic change in tone, the sound sending bolts of pain through your skull.

“Oh sorry Princesa, did that hurt?” Seriously, you are going to get whiplash from his bi-polar personality, “Forgot you have concussion. Let's get you Advil for that and then we see if you talk, yeah?"

You watch with blurry vision as he leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound sends waves of agony through your pounding head, and by the time you can focus again he's back.

All it takes is one well placed blow to the head, an attempt to get you to pay attention, and you're out like a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know anything I swear! Please! I don't know anything!” The sobs tear raggedly out of your throat, already raw from screaming. Your voice is scratchy and broken, but still you can't stop begging.

“I don’t know anything” You sob. Those words, I don’t know, had become your motto over the past few daysweeks(?)

“Oh Princesa. I know.” He croons, running a finger down your bruised face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time was meaningless. Has it been 2 days since you were captured? Two weeks? Months? You don’t know. Your meals come at staggered times, and your captors never come at a routine time. The lights turn on and off at staggered times, nothing in a set pattern, a system created to mess with your mind.

Not that you know that. This wasn’t the kind of life you lived. You were a medic for heaven's sake. Your hands had been built to mend, to fix, to heal. Not to clutch at broken bones, to scratch against cement, to be chained and broken. You arewere a gentle creature, not designed for this world of torture and terror.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They no come for you." You moan as the words pound through your skull, nearly unintelligible.

"Wh'...y'say?" You mumble, voice scratchy and broken.

"You're friends, Princesa. They are no coming for you." He sighs and moves next you, prodding your side with his steel-toed boot, "You are replaceable, your skills are easily replicated, they no spend time and resources to find a simple medic."

"They…'ll c'me." You wheeze, refusing to belive that Price, that Gaz, that Soap, that Ghost, would just...leave you.

He laughs in response, digging his toe into your side until your gasping in pain.

"We shall see, Princesa. We shall see."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t built for this. Weren’t built to recognize the manipulation, the mind games. Weren’t built to survive the two-face man who was reshaping your brain. The man who was your greatest source of pain, but also your only friend. The man that flayed your flesh open, but soothed and bandaged you when it was all over. This man, who was slowly becoming the only thing you could trust in your unstable world. He may bring you unbearable pain, but he brought you comfort too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That looks bad, Princesa." The man lightly touches the bones sticking out of your forearm. You whine in pain, clutching it to your chest. He chuckles, wiping your blood off on the cell floor.

"Let's get that fixed up, yeah?" His voice is soft, and gentle, and the nicest thing you've heard in a loooong time. His touch is the same, gentle caresses of bruised and broken skin, revolting and appealing at the same time.

Oh, it's utter agony as he sets and stitches your arm with no pain killers. You scream, back arching, lungs heaving, body seizing.

But after? Oh it's heaven. He holds you, cradling you against his warm body, making sure you don't go into shock, telling you you're a good girl, and that you've made him proud. You hate yourself for it, but you can't help but preen at the praise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He brings you a calendar. One month. It’s been one month since you got taken.

“It’s been over a month.” He says, a deep voice tinged with pity, “and no sign of your…friends. I’d give up being rescued if I were you, because they clearly have.” You can barely hear him as you stare at the paper in his hands, 31 days marked off with big, bright X’s. 31 days that you have been trapped here. 31 days that your squad…hadn’t come for you. Is he right? Are they really not coming? Did Ghost really give up on you? Are you-

“Ay Princesa, I even did what you asked. I sent your squad pictures and videos that even the greenest tech member could pull some coordinates from, but nothing. It’s like I said. Your ‘friends’ don’t care for you. They are not coming for you. I am your only friend in this place. Tell me, who bandages your wounds, who feeds you, who makes sure your living space is comfortable?”

“Y-you do.” You whisper uncertainty, “But…you also hurt me, don’t you?”

“Oh Princesa, I wouldn’t hurt ya if y’ would just listen. It not torture if you're disobedient. It's just…punishment.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, “And you just back-talked me. Do you remember what happens when you try to give me sass?”

"I get…punished." You mumble, cheeks flushing with shame.

"Obviously, you fucking idiot. I mean how."

"I…you…I have to do affirmations."

"Look at that, y'r gettin' it!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Say it again." He snarls. You sit in front of a mirror, face bruised, bleeding, and swollen.

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends…'re n-no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'v'ble…I 'm r'pl'c'…able." You whisper for the hundredth time.

"Again."

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."

"Again!"

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."

He makes you keep going, repeating those 4 sentences until you literally can't make sound anymore, a fact he tests by seeing how much it takes to get you to scream. You pass out before he gets anywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ghost?"

"Simon?"

"Please."

"Why are you not coming for me?"

just FYI if the timing seems disjointed and the speech is wierd, that is intentiweird,

anyways I hope you liked it!!!!

[deer-diary-from-hell]

DANDY’S WORLD HEADCANONS

“You missed what you used to look like don’t you?”

I like to think that dandy (current/in-game) is a psychopath and an absolute vile toon to deal with, he isn’t someone you would want to trust

A master manipulator can and will do about anything just for you to follow him

he LOVESSS having control, he doesn’t care if it’s someone he loves or his own dog. He doesn’t care. He wants control and he’s going to get it with or without force.

loves toying with the toons especially in his twisted form

he is always smiling, never faltering his iconic grin in public. He only stops smiling if he’s in private or trying to intimidate someone (it works usually)

He’s practically immune to the twisteds as they kinda just ignore him although for twisted glisten, man. Dandy absolutely loves tormenting his situation even though it usually just ends with glisten sobbing in the corner and begging him to stop, it still gives him a sense of superiority that he and only he can control himself

he wore his toon handler’s clothes not only to remember him but also to remember why he made his self made promise to continue on with the ichor machine in the first place

he used to look like the in game dandy we see quite regularly but due to him using ichor and stuff it def changed him a lot (the other toons too after their first resurrection it’s just that dandy’s a little more drastic in terms of anatomy)

Let’s delve into his past shall we?

He missed what he used to look like but this operation is important

you can’t mess up, no, not again

anyways, when the show was still running he was a kind and gentle soul. He wouldn’t hurt a single fly. Where did that go?

he cared a lot especially his friends, ask for help and he will be on his way immediately, where did that go?

He loved gardening, he loved seeing the plants grow. He didn’t mind that it took too long, he was just happy to see his plants alive

Sure he has his own flaws but it didn’t made him a bad person.

he was still caring, patient, gentle and kind but he was naive, foolish even.

he wanted to help make the show relevant again by experimenting himself with ichor. He thought that if ichor made them who they are, then maybe it can improve who they are? Poor dandy, if only he knew…

He did a lot of research as ichor starts to affect not only physically but also his kindness. It worked just not in a way he expected it to be.

the ichor changed him for the worse, it practically made him an entirely new person. He isn’t who he is anymore.

It wanted more, craving more ichor. It thought if it had more ichor it will improve itself even more! it will be perfect enough to be back on television! Who cares if some toons will die, it can just bring them back and send them out again!

It can never let go of that spotlight that easily.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Did Leon change or did he stay the same?

A character analysis by me because it’s 1AM and I can’t sleep.

I’d like to think Leon goes through an identity crisis throughout the course of RE4R and after RE2R.

Everywhere he went, he’s been told that he has stayed the same even though he believes he’s changed. This got me thinking two things about his character.

A) He’s not as self aware as he thinks he is. To him, maybe he’s changed because he’s had to go drastic changes in order to become the agent he is now. The extensive work that was put on him as well as the pressure to perform well probably made him believe he was not the same man he once was. He probably feels as if a part of his humanity was ripped away. We actually see his monologue in Vendetta where he states that when he was younger, he’s always wondered about what type of man he’d grow up to be. And to realize that the version of himself, the “future” version, is probably something that he wished he didn’t have to be. He wished things were different, he wished he was different.

B) A lot of people underestimate him and his sensibility. Leon is someone who’s always known what’s just. One of his prominent characteristics is probably a strong sense of justice and humanity. He’s the type of person that would save everyone even if it meant he’d have to sacrifice himself. He’s a very noble person and most people see this as a weakness, hence why Krauser thinks he’s too “soft” for the job. But I think otherwise, I think it’s a good thing that Leon is the way he is simply because he’s still holding on to a part of himself that he refuses to give up. It’s what makes him a good person despite his bloodied hands. He’s saved countless people but he’s also killed many to save others.

After being confronted by Ada and Krauser, I’d like to think he’s doubting himself.

“Have I really not changed?”

“What about rookie me?”

“Who was I before?”

But maybe there’s another reason. He hasn’t talked to Ada in six years and he hasn’t seen Krauser since Op. Javier. So that means it’s been a long time since he’s seen both. Maybe Ada and Krauser refuse to acknowledge that Leon did in fact change and want to keep a small fragment of what Leon was prior to their meetup in RE4R. Not because they underestimate him but because Leon is a symbol of what is right. Hence why Ada didn’t give Wesker the Amber and why Krauser was so willing to die at the hands of Leon.

Leon’s character is a complex character that is heavily influenced by others around him. But that doesn’t mean he’s letting himself be used as a carpet. I’d like to think that the cop inside him didn’t in fact die, instead it grew. Why does he keep pushing through even though he says he doesn’t want to keep fighting? It’s not just the government forcing him, it’s the cop Leon that’s telling him to do what’s right for the innocent lives that could be at stake.

Leon is a good man.

[autistichalsin]

So here's a hot take.

I see a lot of people saying that it would be fun to have a way to make Halsin worse. And I agree that it would totally be cool to be able to corrupt Halsin!

However, I don't think his canon arc would make the most sense leading to the Shadow Druids. Those are the tiny hints Larian dropped, yeah- the Shadow Druids being sent by Ketheric to corrupt the Grove to make them less of a threat against him, the Shadow Druids noting they are going to Baldur's Gate next, Halsin's brief moment of doubt that they were right. And a lot of other media love playing the ecoterrorist angle. So I can see why it's where a lot of people's minds go.

But from a characterization standpoint, I can't see it. Halsin dealt with the Shadow Curse for over 100 years. It cursed his home, and his childhood best friend who was the physical embodiment of nature. If he survived literally 100 years of darkness without being particularly moved to join the Shadow Druids, I just don't see how the sufferings of Baldur's Gate would push him into it. Those are much less personal stakes.

So, if we were to get a darker Halsin route, I would propose one of two things;

1. Introduce a failure state for act 2 that doesn't result in Halsin staying behind in the Shadowlands.

The easiest thought is that maybe doing part of the quest but not finishing it would result in him staying behind, seeing that there is hope to break it now, while doing nothing makes him think he's no closer to solving it than he was before, so things are unlikely to deteriorate while he goes with the player to solve the Absolute crisis.

Or if we wanted to make it REALLY awful, make it possible for Thaniel and/or Oliver to actually die, breaking Halsin's heart completely in the process. With his friend gone for good, his last hope gone, and with the Dead Three to blame directly, Halsin could become clouded by grief. Maybe it makes his story mirror Ketheric's in a sad way; Ketheric lost Isobel and became a monster, Halsin loses Thaniel and, while not becoming a monster per se, takes a darker, extremist path to avenging him, vowing to let nature reclaim Baldur's Gate in his memory.

Basically, what I'm getting at here is that there's nothing personal enough in Baldur's Gate proper to inspire such a radical shift. Canon, as it is, lets us see his momentary temptation and go "yeah makes sense" but there needed to be far more if I was going to buy his transformation to a Shadow Druid. This would provide that deep pain that cults are so good at preying on.

2. Similar to the above, but pushing it back to act 1. Make it so that the Grove raid, instead of being triggered by the player directly, can also be triggered by inaction; maybe once the player speaks to Minthara/frees Sazza, a timer starts for long rests, and at the conclusion, if the leaders aren't killed, the goblin leaders show up at the Grove. Halsin being freed already lets him fight on your side to stop them, while Halsin still being a captive lets the raid complete.

Similar to the above, Halsin's rage and grief at the defilement of nature then drives him into it. At first he just seeks out revenge, but later, after seeing the Shadow Curse and having those particular wounds opened back up (this one could proceed the same as canon) he gets pushed into something more methodical.

Shadow Druid Halsin could be a lot of fun IMO, but we would need something more than we have to establish a motive. Seeing sadness in a city for the first time wouldn't be enough to cause Halsin to drop every principle he has about nature being a balancing act between good and evil, darkness and light, order and chaos. For him to be pushed so firmly to an anti-society view, he would need to witness something far worse. So those are the two scenarios I can think of that would give just the little push, the sense of personal, direct harm, that would cause Halsin's morals to shift so drastically.

[yetanothergreyjedi]

Ghosts of Our Pasts

DP x DC crossover

Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne sibling AU

Parts 1 & 2. Part 4 Part 5

Part 3: Before

"You are not my brothers!" Their newest brother shouted. They were used to this by now. Once Damian had stopped actively trying to kill them for dominance or whatever, they'd taken to domesticating him like feral kitten. He was a lot more hiss than he was claw. And as long as they didn't push too far, he just got more comfortable with them. Except, of course, when they referred to him as family.

"Yes we are," Someone quipped back, and Damian's face grew stormy.

"You. Are. Not." Damian snarled. "I had a brother. You will not replace him!" They all froze with the revelation, and Damian took that time to throw down his Robin gear and storm out of the room.

He'd had a brother. The league had tucked away, not one, but two?!? And they had killed one, or gotten them killed or— it was no use to speculate, they didn't know what happened.

"I'll talk to him," Dick volunteered, before he started to spiral. No one responded, probably because they'd started a spiral of their own.

___

Damian wasn’t hiding. Well, from a civilian's perspective, he might be. He felt like hiding, but this was not an appropriate situation to hide from. Thus, he stayed in a place someone with League of Assassin training, and his b— his father’s other children would find completely obvious.

It was Grayson who found and silently sat down next to him. He didn't ask, and that was better because Damian didn't have to say anything, but it was worse because he needed to say something, and now he couldn’t hide behind a resistance to interrogation.

"He would've loved it here." Damian admitted.

Grayson leaned ever so slightly into him. "What was he like?"

___

Danyal laughed as he ran down the hall, enjoying the moment while he could before the inevitable he'll to pay. He'd been seen, but hadn't been caught, so his self imposed mission was successful.

It was a harmless prank, but an action suitably beneath an heir to the Demon. It should be enough. Damian wouldn't fail, but he feared he would; now, even if he drastically missed his mark he'd still have a reason for grandfather to keep him around.

If Dany had known he was setting the mark his brothers would be held to, he would've held back. He did now. He sprinted on the razors edge of acceptable performance and excellence. Hopefully, it would last long enough to put his plan into motion.

___

Damian told him about the older brother who loved the stars, played secret games, got into odd kinds of trouble, and was the best at everything. Dick got a sense of how young Damian must've been when he'd died. There was also something missing in the stories, but Dick didn't push. This was a rare bit of vulnerability, and he wasn’t going to risk it.

They missed patrol that night, and later shared those stories with the rest of their siblings. They morned the brother they'd never meet, and eventually Damian called them brothers too.

But one phrase from that night still haunted Dick;

"He would've gotten us here years ago... if it weren't for me..."

Dick never did ask, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the details.

___

Danyal layed there for an eternity. If he moved too soon, he'd risk Damian turning around, if he waited too long, he'd bleed out. Would Damian turn around? Would he apologize and help him up? Would he come back to finish him off? Had his brother intended a slow kill to make him suffer, or to let him escape? Maybe Damian hadn't accounted for the light armor beneath his clothes?

He waited a half an eternity longer, then forced himself to his feet. He managed a few steps before pain and dizziness toppled him again. Up. Step. Step. Down. Up. Step. Down. Crawling managed more distance, but left a more obvious trail. It wouldn’t get him out of here. He would die here. Unless...

___

Jazz wanted to be mad at the boy who was now her brother. Her parents had barely left the lab since he'd offered a glowing green vial in exchange for a home.

It was his fault they'd forgotten about her, but only this time. Last time is was the old woman convinced her husband was still in the house. The time before that it had been a beeping box that went off whenever it was pointed to close to an electrical line. It would only be proof until it wasn’t, and then she'd have her parents back until someone brought the next new toy. It was his fault this time. He stood in the living room in his borrowed clothes like furniture was a foreign concept. She sighed, grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water. It was hard to be mad at someone who'd shown up looking like they'd escaped a serial killer.

He didn't startle as she approached and she realized he'd been watching her. Well, no backing out now.

"Here," She held it out to him, "you have dried blood behind your ear."

"Oh," He ducked his head and started scrubbing. She waited for him to finish and showed him where to put the dirty laundry. She had a little brother now, and their parents had forgotten them both again.

_

_

_

💕

In this AU, Jazz is 13 when Danny arrives. She already thinks that psychology is interesting, but she only starts diving deep into it after Danny shows up.

If you guys have any comments or questions, I'd love to hear them. This was a one part thing until you asked questions and started thinking about the answers.

Tag list:

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @mur-ururu @luer-mirin @insufferablecrab @skulld3mort-1fan @alonedustspeck @voidbornposts @meira-3919 @marshmelloe @aethernorwood @mimilikey @undead-essence

Dears, I love you, but you really need to change your profile pic to anything that isn't the default because I thought you were bots. I legitimately almost blocked you on reflex because I'm getting so many right now.

@the-winds-of-kushala and @spectralstardustandphantomnights thank you both for your lovely title suggestions

💕

[ratgrinders]

HIII i’m also a rat grinders fan in the “not interested in pretending they aren’t fucked up” but rather “interested in Why they are so fucked up” way 💥💥💥 i have Thoughts on how the shatterstar ritual affected the rat grinders in different ways and i wanted to know if u had any similar thoughts :3 - @teenagerebellion

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD ASK thank you for sending it!!!!!!!!

Ok so I AM gonna be working off the assumption that a rage crystal functions less like "mind control" and more so amplifying existing feelings to murderous extremes. Think Adaine in the mall fight when she's asked to picture "what would the world look like if all Adaine thought about was rage" and we see a destroyed Sylvaire from Adaine's search for her mother. We know that Adaine would never do that, but we see the underlying motivation is the same.

Off the bat we know Kipperlilly's ritual is different from the others since she chose to do it "willingly" and wasn't forced to choose via death (it's described as having no scar, unlike the others, so she may have not even had to die at all). That doesn't mean though that she wasn't infected with a rage that caused her to do things she never would've done normally, as I don't think Freshman Year Kipperlilly, whose biggest grievances were "I think Aguefort likes them more", would jump to coldblooded murder. I think the fact that Kipperlilly chose the shatterstar affects her mindset pretty greatly going in to rest of the year, because there's no easy way to differentiate between what's "her" and what's the rage star. She probably is constantly thinking things like "This is all me. I am in control of my own faculties. There was no coercion involved I'm just naturally a villain", partially because she doesn't want to admit that she, a mastermind, let herself get controlled like that. Essentially, the ritual itself was so seamless and the descent so gradual, I don't think even Kipperlilly has a strong sense anymore of who she is without rage.

Ruben we know canonically has a bit of amnesia after being revived, not even seeming to remember the entire year he was shatterstarred. Ruben basically has the opposite problem from Kipperlilly, where his change in identity post-shatterstar is so drastic that his sense of self is almost completely eroded, because "how could I have been motivated to become someone like that?". Ruben's not a naturally angry person, but still though, that WAS Ruben, the rage star just tapping in to Ruben's underlying desperate need for approval, emotionality, etc. and bringing it to the forefront. The rage star imbued Ruben with such an intense pain and rage that he felt he could only express it through his music. Post finale revival I think was Ruben just being in shock at how much he's changed, but I think the memories will come back to him and he'll have to reconcile these two Vastly Different versions of himself.

Ivy I believe was still kind of a mean girl before the shatter star, the shatter star just made it more likely for her to say it to people's faces rather than behind their backs. Honestly, I'm imagining her maybe as a young Sandra Lynn before, in the sense of both having this constant bemusement. Beyond that, though, I think Ivy may have been the most likely to take the rage star willingly as opposed to being killed for it (I actually think most of the Rat Grinders still could've been persuaded to take it willingly, but that's a post for another time). Ivy seems to have a lot of pent up rage and disdain for the world around her, and the shatter star only amplified that.

Oisin got buff after getting shatterstarred, which is a really funny canonical fact to think about lmao, because I'm just imagining him doing a bunch of angry push-ups or something. Anyways Oisin before the ritual I'm honestly imagining him to be the type to hang out with guys like Skrank and Shellford, aka those kind of nerdy unpopular guys who nonetheless are still kind of egotistical and little dicks sometimes. (This is actually why I think they were the ones playing pong at the party with Oisin, because they were actually kind of friends before.) Just like Ivy, the rage crystal just gave Oisin more of an excuse to externalize his rage at the world, but I think the main thing it did was just give Oisin a little more self-confidence because now he has all this power backing him up.

Mary Ann was EXACTLY the same before and after the ritual, it was actually a little disconcerting to Jace and Porter and they didn't know what to make of it. The main thing for Mary Ann, I think, is that she really doesn't have much of an emotional stake in the rage ritual, or the beef with the bad kids, or anything like that. She's just Entirely Indifferent to whatever atrocities are being committed, which is just a different type of fucked up lol. Honestly, I think as a barbarian Mary Ann's a bit more used to controlling her rage which is why the rage crystal might've had less of an effect, Lydia Barkrock style.

Buddy's death was so sudden and traumatic, with such a short amount of time to get used to the implications before the finale, I think Buddy's mind is just in a tailspin post-ritual just trying to grab on to anything that makes sense lol. He knows worship and devotion, its been a crutch in his life for so long, and that's what he defaults to when he can no longer reach Helio. In fact it almost seems a bit like a coping mechanism, latching onto it so securely even in the face of all other logic.

[mari-lair]

Will greed island au gon ever at least meet mito? i feel like during his search for ging after he leaves the island with killua he would make the same conclusions that kite did and track down his dad's hometown. what do you think his feelings would be? would it improve his horrible sense of self worth?

Side note: how would the zoldyck family arc go in this scenario? I have a feeling that Illumi would show up to mess things up. but this gon is much stronger so he could just basically break into the manor and tell the zoldycks to f off in person.

(about the GI Gon AU: Here)

I didn't even think about this, BUT YES! Gon would go to Whale Island hunting for clues after passing the hunter exam and eventually find Mito. When he learns Mito is Ging's cousin he'll gets excited, cause Gon knows none of his blood family, no matter how distant, an aunt is still a big deal.

His first meeting with Mito will be a bit rough/pretty awkward cause I feel like Ging would let her know he has a kid through a letter or a call or something (is Ging he'll find a way to update her without facing her) but only a decade or so before she have a chance to met Gon. No further messages, no elaboration, by the point Mito sees Gon face to face the concept Ging have a kid will feel alien.

I can see him a bit more self-worth in her presence since 1 - Mito is no NPC she looks after him while he is visiting cause she wants/ she make sure to say when she isn't happy, which makes when she is happy he is around that much more impactful 2 - She will be very angry that Ging abandoned him in some game and while he will defend greed island forever, he is flattered, people rarely get this angry for him. 3 -He bonds with her about Ging leaving, cause the game masters were a bit exasperated at most Ging departure, but Mito was deeply affected by his departure like Gon was. But he still isn't as confident(?) as canon gon.

As for the Zoldyck rescue arc...

I'll be honest, I don't know how that would go, there are too many changes from canon for me to try to domino effect: Illumi already passed the exam, he can't take it again like Killua will, Gon also wouldn't be knocked out with his nen skills, so that scenario ain't happening.

I know Killua coming home needs to happen though, maybe Killua is taking too long in the game (cause he stopped focusing on killing his target after around a week or less and prioritized having fun with Gon and being a rebel) and so the Zoldycks send Illumi to find a way in the game and check on him but idk how that would go. I don't think Gon can beat Illumi. He can beat him in nen arm wrestling and maybe some strength tests, he is a monster in raw power, but is hard to say in a fight with no rules. I can picture Killua, who has the needle, using Acompany cards to run away with gon and freaking out about rebelling against Illumi but I can't picture how the actual confrontation would end.

(I just know Gon won't die inside the game, he has every game master keeping an eye on him if he reaches the point of being in genuine danger. They can be neglectful and all, but they would never let Gon die.)

So for now "how will killua go home?" situation is in progress/may drastically vary in the future

If despite all the changes the situation still end with Gon banging on their mountain gate , Gon would indeed be powerful enough to open the gates and walk to the butler's house without issue but he still has the same "Why must I do all of this to visit a friend?" mentality, and he wouldn't want to cause trouble to the butlers and workers who clearly value killua. So fewer injuries, more questions about the mansion's "rules and 'work designs' choices" (which are usually not answered. cause zoldycks) but overall a very similar outcome.

[localgrem1in]

Magtober Day 26 - Found Family

Quick! Post the oops! all avatars! au where they're just really tired coworkers trying to survive cryptic instructions from eldritch horror bosses!

My goal for Magtober is to do a sketch every day according to the prompt. I've been suffering from that headspace where every peice needs to be a finished piece, so I'm tryin to break that.

Prompt list by @emerald-emerlad for tmatober 2023!

Previous | Next

Mini infodump below cut :]

Avatars:

Oliver [he/him] - Avatar of the End

Jon [he/they] - Avatar of the Eye

Helen [she/it] - Avatar of the Spiral

Jude [she/he] - Avatar of the Desolation

Tim [he/him] - Avatar of the Slaughter

Mike [he/him] - Avatar of the Vast

Martin [he/him] - Avatar of the Lonely

Sasha [she/they/it] - Avatar of the Stranger

Gerry [they/he] - some weird both but none inbetween of the Eye, the End, and the Hunt, but I like him lots so I say he gets to stay

Mini plot points:

-It's MUCH more lighthearted than TMA the podcast

-Oliver is still there when Jon wakes up, they proceed to become besties

-Mike and Jon become close friends because Jon's not STUPID and doesn't tell Daisy that Mike is 'inhuman'. Therefore Mike doesn't die, and they get a chance to ✨bond. ✨

-Jude and Mike are besties too, but they would die before letting you know that

-Jude [sometimes with assistance from Helen] scares off Elias whenever the group goes to rescue Jon from the depths of the Archives. [She just threatens to burn down the Archives-]

-Gerry doesn't want to be burnt just yet, because he wants to go out on his own terms, not desperation left over from Getrude trapping him in that book. Maybe help the new archivist, he's could use some assistance and is the teeniest bit pathetic

-As a result, Gerry kinda hangs around the archives while Jon is comatose and becomes close friends with Tim

-Tim and Sasha doesn't die (obviously), instead Tim survives the unkowing. His time in the hospital is a much shorter stay than Jon

-He finds Sasha after they go to stop the Unknowing, cracked and breaking into pieces in the ruins, and helps her get back to the Archives

-Sasha and Helen become besties. That's it. That's the story.

-Jon and Helen are also closer, because Jon doesn't completely shut Helen out when she mentions how similar they might be

-Tim determinedly keeps driving the Lonely away from Martin, which annoys Peter Lukas greatly

-Sasha's too scary for Peter to try and make any more drastic measures though

-EVERYONE bullies Jon about his newfound discovered crush on Martin, while at the same time they are very sympathetic to Martin because this poor boy has been pining for SO LONG over this prick /aff

-Jon also cuts his hair short again after his coma, because he's not too depressed to take care of it

[om0000]

star guest yap

the thing that i think makes star guest so interesting is that i feel like in canon westley faked his death exactly BECAUSE he didnt have anyone on the skullship who actually cared — like its still a drastic asf measure to take but i feel like he could take it only cuz he knew that nobody would be actually affected in much of a meaningful way (its even joked abt in the end credits of the episode where hater, who seemed to be the most upset abt westley's "death", says that he doesn't even remember who westley is) n its sad, its sad to think that westley craved so bad to build community with other watchdogs — the only people that he COULD build community w n the people who he was supposed to be working w for who knows how long — but couldn't, even over the course of 3 years of trying. n its clear that he was trying, he starts the episode waking them all up, he tries engaging in conversation w them, he acts friendly, he compliments moose after the guy literally HITS HIM IN THE FACE like be fr u cant get more desperate than that — and despite that none of his efforts ever pay off n none of his sentiments r ever reciprocated. n its implied heavily that westley didn't just feel left out, he WAS left out, actively, very possibly subject to bullying. n interestingly enough even after he does get their recognition (or at least they cheer him on) after capturing wander n sylvia it doesn't make him stay, cuz i feel like he didnt want to associate w the hater empire at all by that point, cuz he already got a taste of freedom n it made him doubt everything. well, in the end, after he "died" there was nobody on the skullship to actually mourn him

now what makes star guest even sadder than that is that it raises the question of what if westley DID have someone — and it puts a spin on things cuz now westley either lies to his own bf abt his death n basically. breaks up w him in like the worst way possible n makes him cry n lose sleep over someone who isnt even actually dead n is somewhere in some other galaxy living his best life — or he lets andy in on his plan. which would be the right thing to do but it would also require admitting that what they have to him doesn't feel worth staying on the skullship for — that it didnt make him feel happy or understood or, well... loved. n while i think westley would actually try to explain hjs side of things rlly carefully — n if andy ever felt anything towards that guy hed have no choice but to comply n like promise to keep his secret safe or smth — it makes the entire situation FARRR more drastic. it makes westley's decision to fully cross out his previous life maybe lije 5 times harder to make n 10 times more determined, it makes andy either watch his partner leave for a better life that does not involve him, or literally watch his partner die — it makes star guest not just doomed by the narrative yaoi but literally never even meant for each other yaoi. that is insane. like thats full on crazy for a silly little rare pair ship

[lapis-lights]

Chapter 01 | Choke Yourself to Sleep

'Falling From Grace' Series

[Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader]

Song Title: Choke by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Content Warnings: Heavy Injuries, Enemies Phase, High Tensions, Two Emotionally Constipated Characters, They Get Better Towards The End

Word Count: 11k

Author's Notes: First chapter of the Falling From Grace series! I'm excited for you guys to see what's coming up :DDDD

I wanted a good ol' fashioned enemies to lovers that dealt with two characters who actually have a dislike for each other and honestly, the longer I outlined the events I wanted to happen and estimated the word count, the more I was like "Oh shit this needs to be like a SERIES". So here we are at chapter 1. Lmk what you guys think in the comments if you'd like! My ask box is also open if you'd like to send in something through there too ^^

Posts are scheduled for 8 a.m. EST every day until the series is complete!

Series Masterlist

Ao3

Summary: Having freshly escaped from an elaborately disguised company, you show up on the doorstep of your enemy's dingy motel room. Tensions roll high as you try to recuperate all while trying not to kill each other until a secret lets loose and his perception of you shatters into a million pieces.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

"Now shut your dirty mouth. If I could burn this town, I wouldn't hesitate to smile while you suffocate and die.

And that would be just fine, and what a lovely time that it would surely be. So bite your tongue and choke yourself to sleep."

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The air is freezing, but your body feels like it's on fire.

In a cruel juxtaposition to the chilly weather and violent wind that nipped at your skin, pain is all you know, licking flames up from a twisted ankle and into your weary muscles. Your shoulder burns, tugged on by the weapons and equipment that weigh you down but are vital for survival nonetheless. One of your joints is probably dislocated and would need an amputation or something drastic with your luck.

You’re sure you must look a sight, streaked with dirt and oozing blood from more than one place on your body. The bruises you’ve been so graciously granted are probably turning purple by now, and you wince knowing that this wouldn’t be something you could try and joke your way out of at a hospital. 

Hence, your second, more unfortunate, option.

You’ve been walking all night since you escaped after weighing the options in your mind. Actually, it’s less walking and more hobbling as fast as you can.

The trees are bare all around you, bordering a stretch of a lonely dirt road that nobody has driven through since you set foot on it. Not even given the chance to hitchhike, you consider that just laying down and dying alone of starvation might be the easier option.

Every part of you hurts, and you think that you might die anyway from your wounds. Your breaths have become shallow and hitched, your body sore from the excruciating limits you've been pushing it to. However, that all didn't matter when it came to survival. You've lived through worse before–surely something like this couldn't kill you.

The bare forest breaks and you almost cry at the sight of your destination. 

It’s a rugged little motel hidden away in the recesses of the forest, often providing shelter to hunters who were taking advantage of the seasons. However, the person you're looking for is not a hunter.

Not of animals, at least.

It’s the kind of motel that doesn’t have any stories and the rooms are all lined up along one long stretch of building bordered by rotting wooden rails. It’s not a sight to behold, but it was somewhere safe to some capacity. Either you’d die here or live to see another day.

You trip up the wooden steps, muffling a cry of pain into your palm before counting down the rooms and finding the one you need. Your knock probably sounds more like a bang and you know that this is probably the stupidest plan you’ve ever had yet. Maybe you had the right idea when you were considering just dying on the side of the road like an unfortunate piece of roadkill.

However, much to your surprise, the door swings open, and tired blue eyes meet yours.

"(Y/n)?" your name rolls off his tongue like venom being spat out. "What the fuck?"

He sounds good–really good–so you must be incredibly delirious. Whether it's from the blood loss, the adrenaline, or the sleep deprivation is a toss in the air.

"Hey," you manage a shaky smile and collapse.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

When you come to, the first thing you hear is the creak of old wood, presumably from the aged floorboards.

You're sure this motel doesn't have the funding to renovate often, judging by the run-down state it was in when you first arrived. Already, you feel better physically than the last time you had been conscious–but you were still incredibly sore–though the same couldn’t be said mentally. If you weren’t so bent on staying alive, you’d roll over and sleep yourself to death. 

Roughly blinking open your eyes faintly, you’re met with an old popcorn ceiling that has more than one questionable stain on it. Gross. 

“You know,” a voice intrudes the confused fog of your brain as your thoughts abruptly try and catch up, “if you’re trying to kill someone, showing up half-dead on their doorstep isn’t really the way to go.”

Panic blossoms in your chest as you open your eyes all the way, fully wide awake now. You tug your body upward and a jolt of pain spreads through your body as you take in the dusty motel room you’ve cursed yourself to be trapped in. You've been laid down on an old couch whose covering was printed with the abhorrent floral pattern that's only found in ancient grandmother households and the fabric scratches uncomfortably on your sensitive skin.

 It’s not hard to find the source of the voice.

Leon's already watching you from a chair positioned on the other side of the room at a small desk, fringe falling over his eye as his handgun is securely held. You have no doubt that the safety is probably already off.

"You have five minutes," he demands, not kidding around like when you've traded playground insults. "I want an explanation."

"Fair enough," you wince.

You and Leon have a rocky history of going for each other’s throats on field missions and nearly killing each other over a grudge that began years ago. He works in the D.S.O., an infamous division in the US government for only the best and most elite members of the agency. Leon Kennedy, revered for his survival in Raccoon City and preceding successful missions afterward, is one of–if not the–best of the best.

You’d been on contract with a company that was researching bioweapons independently and investigating Umbrella through rather illegal matters. The J.I.E., or Justice for Inhumane Experimentalists, had dedicated their purpose to bringing people like those who advocated for Umbrella to be rightfully exposed. Your involvement with the company was surprisingly unintentional where you’d been admitted as an intern for work experience before they offered you training for fieldwork and higher pay. 

Regrettably, you had agreed.

Oftentimes, you’d be dispatched to the same locations that the government was looking into. It was only a matter of time before your stealth mission failed and you were pitted face-to-face with Leon.

Your first encounter was rough, as your only objective was to escape alive. It was understandable why he was considered the best agent as his aim was spot on, his attacks swift and incredibly calculated. You managed to leave with a hair’s breadth away from death. 

Every preceding time you met with him, it began an all-out battle that staved mostly off of that grudge–you wanting revenge for him nearly ending your life and for him, wanting to patch up his bruised ego from letting an easy target slip through his fingers.

It was a miracle Leon didn’t just shoot you in the head when you went unconscious, though he probably only kept you alive for the potential intel you could provide.

“There was a conflict of interest is all,” you say vaguely, and he’s obviously unsatisfied with your response. “There’s not much more to it.”

“The J.I.E. finally dump your ass?”

“I left, thank you very much.”

"Bullshit," Leon snaps. "You have three minutes left to tell me why you're really here."

"I can't visit my favorite archenemy?" You huff, then wince when a new sharp pain blossoms in your shoulder and races down your arm before soothing to a burn. "Son of a bitch."

Leon exaggerates a snicker and you want to beat the sarcastic smile off his stupid expression. "Your dumbass managed to dislocate your shoulder and twist your ankle. Hope you weren't planning on going into any Olympic sports."

"My dreams are crushed," you deadpan. "Might as well put me down like a racehorse with a broken leg."

"I almost did." His gaze darkens and then fixates on you again. "Speaking of which?"

You go silent, staring back at him with the blankest expression you can muster. All he was trying to do was get under your skin to get whatever answers he wanted from you before ending your life, burying you in the woods, and checking out of the motel with a cute little innocent smile. Leon's not the type to commit a felony without a valid reason, but your little schoolyard rivalry was probably a good enough purpose for him. 

You were going to get out of here alive somehow. You just didn't have a coherent plan for it yet. You'd rather die than admit to Leon of all people what really happened at the J.I.E. before you had excused yourself–though, excused was an extreme understatement.

He probably senses that you weren't going to answer his questions before huffing and standing. His hands work roughly on his signature handgun, and it clicks sharply in the air as he disappears around a corner. You wouldn't be too surprised if he re-appeared with a loaded magnum ready to play bad cop interrogating you. 

At this rate, you'd accept him blowing your brains out.

The sudden sound of rushing faucet water running reaches your ears and it jars you enough out of your tense stupor. Silently, you wonder what in the world he could be doing. Maybe Leon needed a refresher before committing murder right in the middle of his motel room, though you suspect that he's probably not the best at cleaning up a crime scene. Would he be fully pardoned if he was found guilty? 

Actually, thinking about it, he could come up with a good enough cover story as to why a dead body was hidden under his floorboards. That was some Edgar Allen Poe shit.

Footsteps have you looking back up to see him with a plastic cup of water in one hand and something held securely in his other that you couldn't see. Leon places the cup of water on the end table that stands right by the armrest of the couch you're leaning against. 

Something clinks onto the wooden surface and you glance over to find two white pills sitting innocently next to the cup. 

You raise an eyebrow at him as he retreats, sitting on a creaking bed whilst grabbing a rifle to start polishing as if you weren't someone who's tried to kill him on multiple occasions.

"Cyanide?" You guess, poking at one of the pills and losing your appetite more than you already had. "You're getting lazy, Kennedy."

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffs dismissively. You didn't know it was possible for him to piss you off more than he already has. "It's painkillers."

"You should take them then since you're being such a pain in the-"

"I really don't care if you die on the couch," he interrupts and sends a dangerous glare your way. "I don't want to hear anything from you unless it's about why you're here. Capiche?"

You search his gaze trying to find any fault in his words, yet come up with none. A quiet sense of annoyance and rage boils in your chest as you slump down into the cushions of the couch. "Aye aye, cap'n."

He hums non-committedly before remarking mindlessly, "Good girl."

You wish he would step on a landmine.

Because you have nothing better to do, you snatch up the pills and choke them down with the water. Truthfully, you didn't realize how parched you were until the touch of liquid hit your dried-out throat, and you hope the bastard isn't gaining any satisfaction from your reluctant compliance. 

You note that there's dried blood still on your clothes and only the obvious wounds that were exposed have been cleaned up. It was some sort of cold comfort knowing that he didn't try anything shady while you were knocked out. 

As you settle into the couch again and close your eyes, you realize one thing before sleep reclaims you. 

Your shoulder definitely didn't feel dislocated nor did it step over the intense soreness that came after the initial painful sting the entire time you'd been awake. Surely Leon didn't set it back once he noticed, right?

He wouldn't.

The painkillers were probably the farthest his kindness reached with you. He probably thought it was dishonorable to kill you when you were injured or something stupid. He'd want a fight before getting the satisfaction of having your blood smeared all over his hands.

That must be it. It had to be.

You're conflicted as one excuse gets blocked by another, but none of it can change the fact that you hate him. When you get out of here, you'd definitely owe him a favor on your end, but after that, you'd go right back to your old ways trying to get the edge on each other on sight. 

As you fall asleep, you decide that nothing will change in the end. You'll make sure of it.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Images dance behind your eyelids, violent in every way you could think of. 

It's filled with viruses and experiments and monsters larger than life. You see people, you can hear them screaming in anguish and immense pain. Small children cling to your legs, sobbing and crying for their parents and for you to do something to help. You don't even get the chance to formulate a plan before they're harshly turned into nothing but rotting flesh and guttural sounds being pulled from their dead throats.  

You reach out desperately for them but they disappear in wisps from your fingertips. A sharp stab pierces your neck and you cry out, struggling against the undead that has latched its teeth into the supple muscle that lies in the junction at the base of your neck that slopes into your shoulder. Managing to gain momentum, you grasp it by the plaid shirt it was wearing and flip it over your shoulder. It slams to the invisible ground with a shriek.

The grip it had on you dissipates with the body of the undead into the black void, but the blood that flows from the wound in rivers is enough to make you lightheaded immediately. Before you can dwell on this fact too long, an invisible force pushes you to the ground, holding you down even as you aimlessly struggle as much as you can. It's a futile effort. 

There's the sound of chains, of a knife being sharpened right before searing white-hot pain floods your backside.

A sound that couldn't even be classified as a scream tears from your throat. It's pain, it's burning alive, it's being bitten by a million fire ants at once, it's familiar-

You wake with a gasp, tears in your eyes and sweating as Leon immediately backs away from your reactive–and now very conscious– state. 

It takes a moment for you to get your bearings and to realize where you are. 

You're not in a lab or an arena or even in another virus-infected city–just a crappy motel in the middle of nowhere stuck with the last person you ever wanted to associate yourself with. Upon getting this fact straight, you force yourself to relax as you dry your face and stubbornly refuse to look at Leon who simply watches carefully for any other possible extremity you might commit.

You can feel the question on the tip of his tongue, just barely managing to restrain himself from inquiring about what the fuck just happened. You don't even know what time it is. You don’t think you really care to find out right now.

"Do you have night terrors often?" He asks but there's no care behind the question. You know all he wants is more information regarding you and what the J.I.E. was doing. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" The response flies from your lips sharply, and you don't even bother to try to have the decency to pretend to be apologetic. Really, you don't feel like dealing with his bullshit after you've just woken up. 

"Well, excuse me, princess," Leon huffs, shaking his head frustratedly as he recedes. "Here I am letting you bloody up my couch and you can't even let me know if frequent nightmares are another thing I should be concerned about."

"I'm fine," you insist as he brings out another cup of water and more painkillers just like he'd done the first time you woke up. This time, you take them without hesitation and wait for a minute to see if they'd kill you as swiftly as a poison pill would. Once you're in the clear, you ask, "What do you mean by 'another thing' you should be concerned about?"

"I'd like to get a good night's rest without getting murdered," he frowns, sitting at the desk and folding his arms. "You know, I would've loved a vacation that didn't get interrupted again but you just had to show up, didn't you?"

"Interesting spot to vacation out to," you raise an eyebrow. "Any reason why?" 

"Nice try. You'll have to be more subtle."

"Can't blame a girl for trying."

"People say that about wallflowers trying to hook up with captains of football teams," Leon scoffs. "Not about spies trying to gather information on the opposing side."

For all you care, he could go die in a hole. You have more important things to worry about–namely your injuries and how fast you could recuperate from them so you could get out of here. Leon was decent enough to tell you that you had a twisted ankle and a dislocated shoulder he potentially set back into place, but there are wounds that he didn't even know about.

Along your upper back had been a particularly nasty gash, but it wasn't anything you weren't used to. You were more so concerned with the bullet grazes you'd caught while escaping the factory you'd been trapped in. J.I.E sports multiple talented sharpshooters so you'd consider yourself lucky to have been able to get out without a piece of metal lodged into your leg. 

The big bad that they'd sent after you did more of a number on you than any group with some lousy firearms could possibly do. The memory causes you to wince.

“Do you have a first aid kit or something?” you ask, moving to get up and ignoring the wave of pain that crashes into you violently, it nearly leaves you breathless. 

“Whoa, hey–wait,” Leon immediately gets up to try and push you back down. You smack his hand away stubbornly. “Alright, fuck you too, then.”

“I need to get the injuries on my back and I’d prefer doing it on my own,” you ignore him, standing shakily and almost stumbling upon the first step. “Also I probably stink so I hope you don’t mind if I use your cheap motel shower.”

“You’re not going to get far trying to do it by yourself,” Leon protests, and irritation pricks your skin.

“I’ve made it this far on my own. I can do it.”

You know your unmoving insistence isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with because the trait is reflected right back at him. Too many times were you caught in crossfires trying to get at each other despite the obvious obstacles and the inconvenience of it all. Usually, Leon can keep his composure on the battlefield, juggling carrying out his assigned mission and preventing you from completing yours, however, there are times you were able to push him over the edge and gain the advantage.

His jaw tenses as he considers you. It’s glaringly obvious you’re not as okay as you’re trying to pass off, but in all seriousness, you need to tend to yourself. You both knew that you’d never trust him in such a vulnerable environment, and even less so showing him exactly where all your current weak spots were. The only option left really was to let you do your best while he played standby.

“At least let me help you to the bathroom,” he relents finally. “If you’re going to slip and die, do it where I can’t see.”

Figuring that this is the best you were going to get with Leon, you accept the hand he outstretched and allow your weight to be shared with him. Because of his profession and the fit form he maintained, you’re sure that it was no issue for him.

Though, it didn’t help that you were completely disgusted upon having to have him in such close proximity. Actually, you think this is the first time the two of you have interacted like this that wasn’t in a violent way.

You half-expect him to dump you onto the bathroom floor, yet he allows you enough time to grip onto the doorframe and limp inside yourself.

“Kit is under the sink,” Leon says, turning away and wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Don’t die."

The door closes and you finally breathe out in relief at being alone. 

Your reflection stares back at you in the bathroom mirror and you know you've definitely seen better days. Shadows hang beneath your eyes, probably the only purple on your body that wasn't a result of a blossoming bruise, and your hair was full of filth you didn't even want to get into. Really, the past few days haven't been the most successful.

You take a deep breath and shuffle your shirt off the best you can with one arm. 

The shoulder that had been dislocated has dulled itself down into a mild burn instead of flooding with soreness with every waking moment as it had been before. Whatever painkillers Leon had gotten his hands on, they were hella fucking good since you'd only taken four so far–definitely better than the OTC pills you usually took periodically after missions. Your ankle fares better than it had been as well, but putting any weight on it was a no-go. 

Jesus Christ, you hated this.

As you throw your dirtied shirt to the floor and start shimmying your pants down your thighs, you think resentfully about your weakened state. For fuck's sake, you were supposed to be stronger than this–you were supposed to be theoretically invincible because being anything less meant you weren’t good enough.

Really, being at Leon's was your own fault seeing as you'd hobbled here after weighing the equally horrible options before picking the lesser of the two evils, and while it wasn't at the forefront of your mind and definitely not your biggest concern at the moment, it still wasn't pleasant. That he even took you in was a miracle in itself and you intend to milk as much hospitality as you can get from him before leaving. 

Finally, you wrench your shirt off and turn to see your backside in the mirror. You find that the gash on your upper back is bad and you wince at the state of it. It extends diagonally from your deltoid muscle downward to your trapezius, but what lacks in length is made up for by the alarming width of it.

You're definitely no looker with scar tissue knotting up your flesh and making rough patches of skin that surely would be anything but soft to the touch, but this has gotta be one of the worst ones. You'll live, of course, but it's nothing you'd be proudly parading around.

Noted: B.O.W.s tend to cut a little deep when they're attacking.

You start up the shower, deciding that you should start washing away the grime and dirt before tackling the scratches that have started to prick blood again.

The warm water is welcome, though it provides little comfort as the droplets sting the opened wounds. It's a relief to finally be able to feel some semblance of cleanliness as you poke around for the motel-provided shampoo, conditioner, and bar of soap. Dirt, blood, and gunpowder wash down the drain and you sigh in contentment, letting your mind wander as you work on washing yourself without putting strain on your shoulder and ankle.

Your need for shelter vastly eclipses the disdain you have for Leon, but you do have to admit that this was incredibly kind of him. His treatment of you right now is wildly different from practically all your other encounters where it's nothing but bullets, blood, and insults hurled at each other intended to hurt. You're used to the aggressive Leon who scowls every time he sees you, but definitely not this Leon who matches your witty comments and gives you painkillers without question every time you wake up.

It feels wrong. 

It feels like at any moment, the barrel of a gun is going to be held to your temple as he forces his desired answers out of you. Leon never struck you as the type of person to be like that, which gives you somewhat of a relief, but it still puts you on edge. He's gotta have some ulterior motive for keeping you alive. The fact that you don't know why is the most concerning part.

Maybe you had answers of your own you needed to search for.

Once you had gotten yourself to a place that felt like tiny bugs weren't crawling all over your skin and the water had begun to clear after vigorously washing your hair over and over, you finally shut off the water and brace yourself to take care of your wounds. It’d be much easier now that you were free of all that grime and build-up. 

You breathe a tired sigh and get to work, numbing yourself to the sting of antiseptic and focusing on wrapping your arms and legs with bandages in a familiar routine. Back at the J.I.E., the medics were adamant about teaching agents extensive medical techniques in case they found themselves stranded and unable to access proper care. Back then, it was obviously an excuse for them to do less work, but now you appreciate the rigorous training they’d put you through.

As for the cut on your back, you couldn’t necessarily reach it, though even you could tell it would need stitches. You definitely wouldn’t be able to do that on your own so you settle on rubbing a disinfectant gel on as much as you could before wrapping your upper torso in a long winding bandage. It would have to do for now.

Moving around as much as you have exhausted you and to be honest, you’d be more than happy to lie down and sleep on the cold linoleum floor, though you don’t think Leon would appreciate it as much.

Speaking of which, there was an alarming issue with clothing…

You grimace, looking at the ragged state of your former outfit, and cringe upon thinking about having to put it back on. You didn’t necessarily have time to pack before you fled the J.I.E.

A harsh knock scares you nearly out of your skin and you mentally curse Leon as his voice muffles from the other side of the door. “You doing alright?”

“Sure,” you answer back, frowning. Well…you’re as fine as you could be with two compromised joints and a dangerously large gash on your back. “I’m trying to figure out what I’m gonna do with my clothes.”

There’s a heavy silence before Leon mumbles some unintelligible. You’re about to ask him what he said until he speaks before you get the chance to. “I’ll stop by the motel office. Pretty sure they had clothes up there for sale.”

“Okay.”

“Size?”

You tell him and you hear the sound of things being shuffled around before the front door slams shut. Immediately, you try the knob and huff upon the handle refusing to give which meant the fucker likely jammed it on the other side to lock you in. Smartass.

It felt like a lifetime before he returned, jiggling out whatever he had blocked the handle with and cracking open the door to put up the goods onto the counter. It was just a white t-shirt made of rough cotton, gray sweatpants, underwear, and a pair of thick socks but in your eyes, it was just as good as a ball gown made of exotic silk.

When you stumble out of the bathroom, Leon looks up from his place on the bed as you slowly make your way out.

For a second, neither of you speaks a word as he finally takes you in without all the dirt and crap you’ve been covered with for the past few days and you try to piece together why this was happening in the first place. This hospitality–this unnatural kindness–it had to be for something.

You tear your eyes away from him, making your way back over to the couch where Leon had set up one of the pillows and a thick blanket, which you spread out gratefully. 

It’s really hard to hate him when he does things like this, but it’s easy to turn that into some type of annoyance to use against him. It was all too easy to find things to dislike about Leon, with the years you’ve watched him, you could nitpick his faults down to memory.

You settle down and the exhaustion hits you like a semi on the interstate. 

Sleep anchors you, yet you remember your manners, managing to yawn and mumble out, “Thank you.”

The silence that follows is deafening and you almost think he didn’t hear you until he says, bordering on the softest tone you’ve ever heard him with yet, “Yeah, sure.”

And just because you have to remind him this doesn’t change anything in your dynamic, you quip, “You’re still a conniving bastard.”

“You know me so well,” Leon mutters unamused.

“Oh, go choke on a day-old cashew.”

“Hope you suffocate in your sleep.”

As you let yourself slip into unconsciousness, you think to yourself that it’s the same as it ever was. Somehow, it soothes you knowing that this aspect of your rivalry will never change. No amount of questionable tolerance from him could ever affect that, and you know you’d be quite content to turn the gun on him once you were back in good condition.

He was your enemy. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Just the way it was supposed to be.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The next time you wake up, Leon's already moving around the room restlessly.

You don't see it, but goddamn, could you hear it. The floor was not doing your already growing headache any favors and coupled with the occasional mumbles from Leon to himself, you think your brain might explode.

You squint, trying to figure out what has him in a frenzy before noticing that you're positioned close enough to the window that you can peek through the crack between the glass and the curtain if you stretch. One moment is all it took before your eyes widened because all that was outside was white. Vaguely, you remember something about snow being said on the news the morning you'd left the J.I.E. but never did the weatherman mention that it was going to be this bad. 

Leon must've noticed you were awake because he immediately moved away and you can hear the faucet running just like the last time you were conscious. 

You consider this as he comes around the corner and wordlessly hands the cup of water and pills off to you before going to stoke a fireplace you hadn't noticed before due to its inactivity. His silent disposition is off-putting at the very least as you drink and take your painkillers and watch him mess with the wood that fed the flames. The motel must be ages old if it was still relying on fire for some extra heat.

"We're blocked in," Leon says gruffly, not even sparing you a glance. "It's not going to stop for at least a day or two."

You can read what he means: the two of you were stuck together until the snow calmed down enough that you could survive on your own.

Joy. You're sure his resentment for the situation matches yours.

"Quality bonding time," you quip, shifting and wincing at the soreness that seems to encompass every muscle. "We can make friendship bracelets and sing kumbaya together by the fire."

He shoots you an unimpressed look, only to furrow his eyebrows when your stomach gives an intense growl that reverberates through your diaphragm. You flush, embarrassed for the impeccable timing and you try to play it off, looking away to watch the flurry of snow whipping violently outside.

You hear rustling before it falls into silence.

Then something solid hits your head softly and lands on the floor by the couch with a crinkle.

You swivel and look down to find a protein bar lying on the ground, obviously the chosen projectile your unfortunate savior had chosen. Shooting him the rudest glare you can muster, you lean over and take the snack while the annoyance starts simmering in your chest. 

"Hope you can at least stomach that," Leon says passively.

"If I can't, I'll throw up on you."

"You really know how to show a guy a good time, don't you?"

"Only ones who can treat me right."

He puts his arms up as if surrendering, shaking his head. "If saving your life isn't treating you right, then you must have some pretty high standards."

"If I recall correctly, you've also tried to kill me multiple times." You roll your eyes while unwrapping your protein bar and biting into it. The taste manages to soothe the anger in your stomach as you eat and luckily, it was the type of bar that was meant to be filling so it left you somewhat satisfied. 

"Hypocrite," he clicks his tongue and if your shoulder wasn't out of commission, you'd pull your gun out and shoot him in the leg to get even.

Well…if you had your gun.

"Where'd you put my weapons?" You ask curiously, balling up your now empty wrapper and tossing it into a nearby small trash can. "Those are kinda important to me."

"Very funny. I’m not looking forward to being shot or stabbed when this is supposed to be my vacation."

"Well, excuse me for trying to make small talk," you fold your arms and just your chin out. "Hope you're ready for an eventful few days getting the damn silent treatment."

The two of you stare at each other from across the room, both unmoving and equally stubborn. The only good thing that came out of this whole thing was that you've learned each other's body language well enough that you could practically read each other without saying any words. Granted, the words usually said were threats to kill each other.

Leon analyzes you and your determined silence before he sighs and shakes his head. "You have a good taste in firearms, at least."

"I really hope that's not how you try and flirt with every woman you meet."

"Believe me, you're the last person in the world I'd ever try to flirt with."

“Rude,” you scoff.

There’s something different in the atmosphere. You watch as Leon finishes messing with the fire and starts getting out supplies to clean out his guns. Not wishing to dwell on it and deciding you have nothing better to do, you return to watching the blinding snowstorm outside. Some part of your mind fears that the J.I.E. were looking for you even in this intense weather, but surely even they weren’t stupid enough to try and track you down in this whole mess.

Perhaps they presumed you were dead. They did send a whole bioweapon to end you, though if they were serious about it, it would have tracked you down and not stopped until it had crushed you itself. 

You shudder, vaguely remembering the fight and running off of nothing but pure adrenaline while escaping. It was your last obstacle before you had managed to stumble out into the frigid air and start struggling to the motel.

You glance at Leon from the corner of your eye.

Truthfully, he wasn’t your first choice. There were multiple people you could have called to play getaway driver for you, but the potential of someone hijacking the signal and finding out about your plans was too high. It ran the risk of trading safety for comfort so that had definitely been off the board. Staying wasn’t an option either–not after what they revealed they were trying to do.

You’d located Leon’s location not long after the events in New York City with Glenn Arias. You don’t know the entire ins and outs of it, but he had suffered from a lot of blunt force trauma and as a result, had to be hospitalized for a few days. It wasn’t that hard to find his medical records in the doctor’s database, and furthermore, it was easy to then trace where he was planning on getting away.

Fortunately, it was near enough to the lab you were stationed but the walk was arduous. He was the only viable option.

“Do you always stare so openly?”

His question pulls you out of your thoughts and you blink before raising an eyebrow in a silent prompt.

“You’ve been giving me a side eye for the last minute or so,” he points out, cleaning out the barrels on one of his guns. “It’s kind of unsettling.”

“I thought you’d be used to a woman watching you,” you hum, leaning your chin into the palm of your hand. “Are you telling me that you don’t have as much game as you say you have?”

“It’s a little different with you.”

“Aw, are you saying I’m special?” 

Leon’s lip pulls up in disdain and you have to resist the urge to laugh lest you pull a muscle or something. “Don’t get any ideas. God only knows what happens in that little fucked up brain of yours.”

“You wound me,” you simper mockingly. "I thought we had something good going."

"I worry for your past relationships if this is your definition of good."

He doesn't need to know that you've never put yourself out there after high school. The J.I.E. didn't leave any relationships to be had outside of the workforce and the people you'd worked with were far from interesting. Besides, you'd be putting them in danger if they were outside of your work sphere.

The last guy you'd given a chance only ended up with him knocking up another girl at a house party so your track record isn't anything to sneeze at either. 

"Alright," A sigh escapes your lips as you shift your body so you can look him in the eyes and he stares back just as defiantly. "Let's make a deal."

He obviously doesn't like the ominous tone that’s used primarily when you’re about to say something to get underneath his skin. "What are you proposing?"

"It's simple," you smile. "As long as we're stuck together, we don't kill each other. Like a peace treaty without the officiation.”

“I thought that was a given.”

“Well, you keep alluding that you assume I’m gonna put a rusted pipe through your gut while you’re asleep, though I’m pretty sure I sleep more than you do.” You frown. “Are you saying you don’t agree?”

“It’s not that,” Leon shakes his head. “I just never thought I’d see you trying to keep the peace.”

“What kind of girl do you take me for?” Like a little drama queen, you sniff exaggeratedly. “I know how to behave when the circumstances call for it.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“You fucking suck.”

“Don’t forget that you’re the one who came to me,” Leon grumbles. “I could’ve left your ass in the snow to freeze over.”

“Maybe that would’ve been the better option for both of us.” The words are sharp, biting out with aggression even you didn’t expect. “You can get real pissy sometimes, y’know.”

“I think I have a good reason,” Leon snaps, and the gun he’s polishing suddenly seems a lot more dangerous in his hands. “All you do is fucking whine when I could’ve finished what I started.”

You grit your teeth, falling into silence as the two of you maintain deadly eye contact. All the exits and where they were located flash through your head and you know it would take too long to try and escape while you’re injured. You could barely slip away from his perceptive nature when in full health.

Maybe it was time for another nap.

For some reason, the instinct was reminiscent of the times your parents would argue so loudly, it shook the house, and a younger version of yourself turned on her nightlight and tucked herself into bed to sleep away the pain just to wake up to blissful silence. You just didn't expect the old habit to resurface here. 

You turn away from him, folding in on yourself, and try not to think about the snow piling outside, the monsters out to get you, or the fact that Leon's eyes are still burning at your backside as he watches. It's less creepy and more irritating and you wonder if he knew how to let someone sleep in peace. 

Your eyes close and you try to fill your head with mindless thoughts until he forcefully pulls you out of it. 

"I…Let's just try and get through this without going at each other's throats. Okay?"

You don't have the energy to fight him nor did you particularly want to right now. "Okay."

Refusing to look at him, you resign to watching the swirling white outside rather than face the tension that obviously was brewing in the room. Even with this uneasy peace treaty, there was no guarantee that it would be upheld without efforts made by both of you. 

In the background, you hear Leon begin shuffling around and you sneak a glance over to see he's elbow deep in one of his bags before he pulls out a sleek silver attache case. He finally seems to find what he's looking for when he takes out a vial that's filled with green, red, and yellow. It's small, probably a little longer than his middle finger, but the contents concern you a little–especially when he saunters over and holds it out to you like you know what to do with it.

"Are we getting high as a celebration of our camaraderie?" You ask, raising an eyebrow as you take it. The colors are all crushed-up leaves of some kind and you silently wonder if Leon's been a stoner this whole time you've known him. "I don't do blunts, Kennedy."

"Slow your roll, crackhead," he scoffs. "It's herbs that'll put you right as rain."

"And you want me to…?"

"Eat it."

You blink dumbly at him, trying to figure out if this was all some kind of joke that he was trying to play on you. "What?"

"I had to take doses of it all the time when I was in Spain," he assures, though you don't feel any better about the prospect. 

"I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse." 

"Take it with water if you're so worried."

You watch him carefully as you uncap the vial and cringe at the strong smell of the plants and the powerful aroma of an herbal scent. In fact, if you stayed here for a bit, you're sure your eyes would probably water as if you were standing in front of an onion while chopping it. Looking at Leon with uncertainty, he just nodded like that made this whole situation viable. 

You didn't really have a choice. 

You pour the contents of the vial into your mouth then choke down as much water as you can as fast as you can. It's alarming the way your body seems to jolt and the nerves beneath your skin start buzzing. If this is what dying felt like, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be.

"You should sleep," Leon suggests, turning around and making his way to the bathroom. "You've been awake for a while and the herbs need time to settle."

"Alright."

He spares you a glance, looking as though he wanted to say something. It doesn't make it off his tongue though, as he turns back around and closes the door with a soft click. Soon, you hear the sound of running water, and the sounds of the shower provide a comforting white noise as you settle down on the couch. 

Your eyes close, and it doesn't take long before you find yourself in the middle of a smoking battlefield covered in the debris of fallen buildings. Somewhere, a grenade goes off.

Some things never changed. 

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

“I’m serious, Kennedy,” you frown, trying to work it all out. “Where the hell did you even get something like that?”

He shrugs but the small shit-eating smirk he tries to suppress is more than enough to make your blood boil just a little.

When you had woken up, your body seemed to have rewound back in time while you were asleep, putting you back at peak health. The injuries that you had been nursing for about three days vanished without a trace and didn’t leave any after-effects. The autonomy you had almost made you fall off the damn couch when you realized this fact and it had devolved into trying to get Leon to tell you what the hell was in that vial and how he had gotten his hands on it.

Your questioning has not been successful so far. He’s scarily good at evading giving an answer. 

You fall back to sit on the couch, rolling your shoulder and ankle this way and that, trying to find a fault in the healing process, but come up empty-handed. It really was as if nothing happened at all. 

“Just in case,” Leon speaks suddenly, “I’d like to check you over for any extra injuries. Even those herbs can’t catch everything if we’re not careful.”

Your lips purse as you reel back at the idea. That was something that required trust, which very little of ran between you and Leon. Exposing yourself to him for an easy shot at your back wasn’t the most appealing scenario and you’d rather avoid the chance of it altogether. He had a point, though, since you couldn’t see the cut on your back and knew that if it didn’t heal correctly, it could get infected which was less than ideal.

“I want all weapons on the other side of the room,” you concede and he immediately sets to work discarding everything away from the couch as you venture to the bathroom for the first aid kit. 

Nervousness rolls in your gut as if you were about to go out on a stage and perform at an opera in front of thousands of eyes–actually, that would probably be better than this. Every muscle in you twitches as if reminding you what typically happens when you or Leon see a vulnerability in each other.

That was rule number one: you see a weakness, you exploit it. 

When you return, Leon’s already sat down and removed his jacket so that all he was left with was a gray t-shirt and pants with pockets that were comfortingly flat and empty-looking. You sit down with your back facing towards him, set the kit in your lap, and breathe out in hopes that it would soothe your nerves. 

It does not.

“There was a nasty cut on my back,” you begin, deciding fuck it and strip off your shirt. The cooler air hits your skin and you shudder. “I couldn’t reach it so I just slapped some disinfectant on it and called it a day.”

“How you managed to wrap it with one arm is beyond me,” he remarks, tapping the bandages that you begin to remove when you get the hint.

The wrappings fall away and the room falls silent. Too silent.

Afraid, you mutter, “Leon?”

“What the fuck?”

The last time he had said that was when you had shown up on his doorstep, and his tone concerns you so much that you pivot your torso around just enough to look at him.

His eyes have locked onto the scars on your backside, and you can feel the ghost of a grip that nearly ground your radius and ulna together as a blade had carved itself into your skin. You know what it looks like, having avoided mirrors that had any view of the rigid flesh that decorates your back like a mutilated canvas. The scars are ugly, forcefully healed and you realize why it might look odd to someone who hasn’t had to bear the curse of looking at them every morning.

A collection of punishments you had deserved. You hadn't been careful enough and you paid the price

When he talks again, Leon sounds like he's ready and poised to kill, though it wasn't directed at you which was incredibly uncharacteristic of him. "Who did this to you?"

You look away. "It's not important."

The silence hangs tensely in the air, just waiting to burst open. Of course, it's awkward being half-naked in front of Leon bearing old scars that you tend to try to forget for a reason. This was supposed to be just a check-up–maybe some aid in patching up that horrendous cut on your back–nothing more.

"They did this," he murmurs, almost inaudible. "Didn't they?"

You don't look at him, hoping that if you will yourself hard enough, you could just disintegrate. You'd do anything just to get away from the demanding gaze his blue eyes pin you down with even with him not having touched you at all.

"(Y/n)." He's never said your name like that before. As if you mattered to him. As if anything that hurt you hurt him too. "What happened at the J.I.E.?"

Well…there was no point in trying to hide it now, was there?

“They began understanding that Umbrella wasn’t backing down from their advances no matter what they did.” You flinch when the pad of his fingertip brushes the wound from the bioweapon. “Careful.”

“Sorry,” he says and it still feels weird to hear him apologize. “It’s still open so I’ll have to stitch it. You’re lucky it didn’t get infected.”

“Okay,” you open up the first aid kit and hand it over to Leon and he begins the process of numbing the area. “Anyways, um, the J.I.E. got it into their heads that the only way to take down Umbrella was fighting fire with fire so they started developing their own bioweapons–which I didn’t agree with.”

Leon pulls away and rummages through the kit for a needle and thread. 

“I tried getting them to understand that starting a B.O.W. war was gonna do more harm than good, but of course, they didn’t listen to me. Instead, they only resolved to keep me in line and continued with their work.” You close your eyes. “Oftentimes, they’d chain me up in one of the labs and…well, you can see how that turned out.”

The point of the needle pierces your flesh and you talk to avoid the feeling of the thread winding through your skin. “I didn’t learn my lesson the first few times and I could only take so much before I had enough of it.”

“So you left.”

“I left, but not without a fight. They sent a titan after me while I was making my escape, and I barely managed to get out alive,” you hesitate, “and that’s when I came to you.” 

“About that,” he mumbles, hands steady as he makes his way up the injury, “how’d you know where I was?”

“They kept tabs on you specifically since you posed the greatest threat. I was sent to your locations because of my experience in encountering you so they knew I’d have the most success rate following your missions.” You bite your cheek to avoid twitching from the needle hitting a tender spot. “It wasn’t hard to track you after the incident with Glenn Arias in New York since they also held your medical records. After I found out you were here, I corrupted your files and removed them entirely from the database.”

“Smart.”

“I try to be.”

The rest of the stitching only lasts in silence as he finishes up, pulling the wound together and sealing it with a patch. Together, you re-wrap your torso and he snaps shut the first aid kit. 

“Thank you,” you say, reaching out to take the plastic box off his hands so you can return it to the bathroom. “By the way, do you know when this blizzard is going to end?”

“Should be done the day after tomorrow,” he answers before his expression twists in confusion. “Why? You have somewhere to be?”

“I need time to plan if I’m going to be taking down a whole company,” you tuck away the box and close the cabinets, poking your head out of the bathroom to peer at him. “I also should do some recon work to see what I’m really working with. They don’t tell agents much, y’know?”

“You’re going back?”

“I have to.”

“You shouldn’t be doing that alone,” Leon argues as if you haven’t run through this decision a million times in your head already.

“What am I going to do?” You roll your eyes, walking out of the bathroom and sitting on the couch a good few feet away from him. “Amass an army? This is really the only way to do it.”

Upon seeing his stony expression, you struggle to understand why he was making such a big deal out of this. Were it any other day, he would tell you to go die if you really wanted to and leave it at that, so what could have possibly changed that made him concerned over how dangerous this self-imposed mission of yours was?

“Let me come with you,” Leon says and your stomach drops. 

You could barely formulate any words. “What?”

“I already told you that going alone is a surefire way to get yourself shot in the head,” Leon shrugs as if you were discussing what you had for lunch. “Are you really going to say no to an extra pair of eyes?”

“No, but–” this whole conversation is turning your whole entire world upside down, “–what the hell would you be getting out of this? Are you out of your mind?”

Leon gets up, and the muscles on his back flex. “I’d be finding out how J.I.E.’s been getting through the government’s defenses, which has been a particular thorn in our side. Really, there’s nothing to lose.”

“Except your life.”

“There’s always been that possibility.”

You breathe deeply through your nose, trying to sort out the confusion of this whole situation. It’s a wonder how he always manages to do this. “Leon. I need you to be completely honest with me.”

“Fire away.”

“Why did you really let me live? When I showed up.” Your gaze looks past him through your lashes and he considers you for a brief moment, seemingly thinking over his answer. “You could’ve killed me–ended this all and gone on with your little vacation. I really need to know now.”

“Well that one’s easy,” he leans down and takes a black duffel bag up in his arms. He tosses it over and it lands at your feet. “I couldn’t leave you to die when you were so helpless.”

You unzip the bag and find all of your belongings in there from your guns to stocks to the boxes of bullets you’d brought along. Everything is left untouched to your relief and you take out your handgun, running a finger over the inscription lined in gold on the side. In this state, you make up your mind and mentally curse yourself and Leon. 

“Alright,” you finally allow, looking up at him with new determination. “We get out of here when the blizzard stops and we figure out a way to get into the lab.”

“We take it down from the inside.”

“We end their operations, apprehend any officials, and let the government handle the rest.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Leon huffs out a breath, taking a protein bar and handing it over to you. “I take it our peace treaty has been extended for a period of time?”

“I hope so,” you accept the bar from him and peel it open. “Otherwise I’d have to question your motives all over again.”

“You don’t have to worry about a thing,” Leon flashes you a look you can’t quite decipher. “We’ll leave when the blizzard stops and we can get to the motel’s laundry mat so you’re not trekking out in the snow with sweats.”

“So considerate of you.”

“I try to be.”

The two of you lapse into your own separate worlds as Leon goes through his supplies and you begin doing checks over your equipment. Your knife glints under the low light and J.I.E.’s logo shines proudly on the hilt. You scowl, sheathing it and tossing it carelessly back into the bag.

You really need to upgrade a few things. 

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The night is crisp, cool, and calming.

You never expected the cold to be comforting, but here you are. After the rollercoaster of emotions the past few days have been, you were eager to find someplace to be alone. Of, course, it’s not because of anything Leon did, but it was nice to just be by yourself with your own thoughts from time to time.

A windbreaker jacket is all you have to shelter yourself from the frigid temperature, but you find that it isn’t as intrusive as you expected it to be. 

You sigh and a cloud of breath spills from your lips, puffing up into the air and floating away like less elegant smoke rings. Your eyes follow it until the miniature clouds disappear, your body leaning back into the wooden wall of the motel. One thought springs after another and with nothing but the wind whistling in your ears, something akin to peace stirs in your chest.

It's quiet out here.

While tension still ran between the both of you since Leon had stitched up your back, you’d be lying if you said nothing has changed. The atmosphere has drastically shifted within the motel room from simmering hate ready to boil over to something much milder. Obviously, old habits die hard and you can’t help but be cautious every time he gets closer to you than usual, but he never does anything out of line.

You can’t tell if that’s more alarming or not.

Snow cascades like white q-tips, gently fluttering to the ground rather than swirling violently as it had just yesterday. It’s almost mesmerizing to watch and in this space of solitude, it’s nice to know that nature takes its course no matter what may be happening. Despite all the B.O.W.s and corrupted companies, places like this stay safely hidden away from all that drama and exist like an external part of the earth. 

A safe space–or haven, even.

Out in the distance by the gap in the fence where you had come in is a street lamp with two lanterns positioned symmetrically on each side of the pole. While one shines proudly and sheds light onto the snow below it, the other stays dead and dark. You wonder if it had just broken one day or gotten too old, but nonetheless, it's sort of a sad sight altogether.

The door creaks open and you perk up.

Leon comes out slowly but his shoulders relax upon seeing you as he shuts the door gently behind him as he says, “I thought you might’ve booked it.”

“Don’t be silly,” you chastise lightly, though not really mad at all. “I thought I would come outside to watch the snowfall before I have to jump into all the action later.”

He comes to stand beside you and together, you watch the flurries fall. You haven't been able to enjoy a moment like this in a long while since the J.I.E. always held you on such a short leash. When one mission ended, another began, and you'd been stuck in a loop ever since they found out that using physical means kept you fighting to stay alive.

Leon clears his throat awkwardly. "I don't remember the last time I just…watched the snow."

You glance at him and a smile threatens to tug on your lips, knowing that he's trying his best but all too unfamiliar from being emotionally constipated. It's not like you're not the same way, but it's nice to know he's at least trying. "Yeah. I remember last Christmas Eve when I got to, but it didn't last long. Got a damn email telling me I'd be dispatched the next day."

He seems surprised. "You didn't spend Christmas with anybody?"

"Nope." You pop the 'p'. "The night I got to my destination, the receptionist at the hotel I was assigned to looked like I kicked her puppy or something when I told her it was just me."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh," you snicker. "It's alright, though. I got to walk through the town square at night and it was really pretty. Had all those fairy lights crossing overhead and it gave it this almost golden glow to it."

If you tried hard enough, you could remember it all. The sight of dim lights illuminating shops and hearing the sound of people conversing with each other enthusiastically. The snow had covered the ground in a thin layer and the sound of a rushing fountain had run in the distance, standing as the centerpiece of the town with colored bricks in a perfect circle. 

A breeze sweeps through the air and you shiver, trying to curl into the material of your windbreaker that provides no heat at all. "There were so many people there. Friends, families, couples…and then there was just me. It was pretty funny."

"Did you get to do anything?"

You finally look up at him only to find him already staring down at you. Your heart seems to kick harshly in your chest before returning to its regular pace, and you don't give your brain time to dwell on it before answering. "Well, I got to help a little boy find his parents."

"What?"

"He came up to me crying," you reminisce, shifting your gaze away from him and back out to the road that led up to the motel. "Grabbed me by the pant leg and started telling me about how he lost his mom in the middle of a crowd and now he couldn't find her."

"Jesus Christ."

A small laugh escapes your throat. "I walked with him on my hip for about three hours looking for her until we finally found her and his dad at a café. They tried paying me but…" The toe of your boot digs mindlessly into the floor beneath you. "I refused. Helping someone who's lost their way shouldn't be a monetary gain, y'know?"

Leon doesn't answer you on that, and you lock eyes with him once more as you try to discern what has him in such a stupor. You don't get to ask when you catch sight of his dusty blue irises that seem to shift in shade with every expansion and contraction of his pupils. He looks like he's trying to find something in your expression, but whatever it could be, you don't know. It's nearly unnerving. Nearly.

"Is that really your philosophy?" He finally asks after an extensive lapse of only quiet filling the spaces between your bodies.

"What do you mean?" You shake your head before rephrasing, "What do you really mean?"

A breathy laugh escapes him and you realize that in all the years you've known him, you don't even know the most basic things about Leon. You know how to read the undertones of his questions, can interpret his body language better than any lover he's ever had, but you don't even know what his favorite color is. You don't know his favorite time of day or what type of foods he likes or what his favorite subject in school was. 

You don't know what his laugh sounds like or how his lips will pull when he genuinely smiles or how he expresses joy to any capacity. 

You've only seen an agent, devolving into something darker as he lost his dirty blonde hair along the way and gained a  deep brunette that made his eyes all the more electric. He's gotten careless about the stubble that peppers his jawline and you realize that objectively, he looks good at his age, though you'd take that realization to the grave.

The two do you have really let your lives slip away that easily, huh?

"You'll understand one day," he says vaguely, and though you're unhappy with the response, you decide to let it slide just this once. "You're shivering–let's go inside."

"Sure," you murmur, giving the landscape one more forlorn look before following him inside. 

The heat encapsulates you and immediately, the cold drifts away into something warmer. Leon's already there in the middle of it all as he heats up something on a pan over the fire, claiming that since it's your last night, he'd use the better food he brought so that it wouldn't go to waste. After all, he's already set sights in an actual hotel in a real city that he plans on traveling to and has already run through the possibilities with you and what to expect. 

Something about the whole scene is oddly domestic, though you push down the feeling to go join him by the roaring fire. Since you've been here, the sound of wood splitting beneath the flames and the smell of smoke have become a comfort that you know you'll miss once you get out of here. 

The night drags on as you eat and discuss your next plans with Leon, out in the middle of nowhere with nobody but each other to confide in. Two incredibly unlikely allies working in tandem after years of a heated feud–truly a sight to behold and even more so impressive considering that you've been at each other's throats for such a long time.

Outside, out of sight from you and him, the dead lantern on the street lamp sparks once, twice, then illuminates just as strongly and brightly as its counterpart.

[symphonyofsilence]

WWX stans saying he would have been the best uncle and Jin Ling's favorite uncle like we didn't see the man see Jin Ling go through the most horrifying event in his life and witness his uncle (who was also one of his two guardians) painful, traumatizing death after the said uncle was dismembered and after some really earth-shattering truths being unraveled, and LEAVE THE BOY THERE CRYING WHILE STARING AT HIS UNCLE'S COFFIN to go fuck in the bushes with LWJ. Like not an hour after the incident, or even a quarter of an hour. no. right after that whole shitshow happened!

(And JL accusingly asked JC why he let them go! JL...my boy... the real question is why did THEY choose to go?! When WWX had a traumatized nephew & a literally and figuratively bleeding brother to take care of, and LWJ had a traumatized brother who seconds ago WAS WILLING TO DIE WITH JGY and LWJ hadn't yet made sure that LXC's willingness has ceased since!)

And then WWX didn't even go to check on JL after that! While JL was a 15 y/o sect leader dealing with the power vacuum left after the scandals of the previous sect leader who was also coincidentally the Xiandu, & going through a power struggle with one of the worst sects out there.

WWX asks after Jin Ling from the Lan Juniors instead of going to see him himself! When he next sees JL it's said that the news of his struggles had reached Wangxian in Gusu, meaning that WWX hadn't dropped by to check on JL to hear of these from JL himself and he hadn't dropped by to check in on him even after hearing these news! He was only there bc JL had invited the Lan Juniors for a field trip!

WWX shows his love with drastic, big, dramatic, sacrificial acts like giving his golden core to JC or transferring Jin Ling's curse to himself, but since he himself loves to run away from his traumas and his responsibilities, he's not someone who can be counted on to help his loved-ones with their traumas and responsibilities. He didn't do it with Jiang Cheng and he didn't do it with Jin Ling. He never even talked to Wen Ning about Wen Qing and the Wen Remnants. (Or how WN feels about being a zombie forcefully brought back to life in a world that hates and fears him)

Maybe diplomacy is not his strength and he'll only make things worse by trying to help JL with his sect leader duties, but it wouldn't have taken anything from him if he had only stayed by JL at least for the night after the Guanyin Temple, not even doing anything, but just being there. (And I understand that narratively it might have been a point in the story where some readers might want to see the main couple sail off into the sunset together, but all it would have taken for the main couple to be shown as less of a dick was adding a phrase like "the next morning..." or even "later that day" or something like that before writing about them disappearing into the sunset...or the bushes.)

I love Wei Wuxian, but post-resurrection Wei Wuxian was really...not particularly an ideal family member.

[honoviadakai]

How I think the Hazbin crew are as parents 🏨

(CW: mentions of child abuse in Alastor’s section, mentions of Valentino and Angel’s past, mentions of Husk’s past with Alastor)

Charlie:

Absolutely a loving mother

Maybe a little too loving

You know how she comes across as too sweet to her friends, loved ones and complete strangers?

Yeah that's not changing with her kids

I’m not even entirely sure she’s gonna discipline her kids

I genuinely believe if her kids are acting up, her main issue is that she’s “a bad mom” and she’s gonna spiral in front of her kids so badly that they’re just gonna stop acting up and behave

She also strikes me as the type of parent that a little too involved in their kid’s lives

Sometimes it’s good because she’s showing interest in her kids lives and really, who doesn’t want that from their parents?

But like…sometimes you don’t need your parents to know everything that’s going on in your life, ya feel me?

There is such a thing as too supportive

And Charlie is that overly supportive, overly optimistic mom that kinda tries a little too hard to be a “cool” mom that can be friends with her kids and all their friends

It’s embarrassing

But her kids know deep down that she’d die for them in a heartbeat

They just wish she wasn’t so…extra

Vaggie:

She’s simultaneously the chill parent and the scary parent you just don’t fuck with

She strikes me as someone who lives by the saying “respect is not given, it’s earned”

She respects her kids boundaries and desires(within reason) and they in turn give that same respect back

And because of that, breaking her trust/respect is a no no

Like if she has a kid that tells her that they’re gonna hang out with friends, and she finds out they they lied and they went to a sex club to drink and do drugs, God help that kid

Worst part is that I feel like if she’s reeeeeally mad and hurt, her anger is silent and cold

That’s when her kids know someone fucked up bad

But as long as no one breaks anyone else’s trust/respect, all is good and her kids know they can go to her for anything and she’ll do her best to help

Alastor:

Oh god

I feel so sorry for any kids this mf has

Like probably wouldn’t cuz he’s aro/ace and Viv has confirmed in past streams he’s not really someone who’d want kids or even properly take care of kids

But let’s just pretend he has one or two

He’s not gonna be a great dad

First of all, I fully believe his parenting style is gonna change drastically depending on if he’s around sons or daughters

Any daughters he has are going to be treated like royalty

He’ll gladly have tea parties with them

He’ll gossip with them and ofc auntie Rosie

He’ll even drop everything he’s doing to treat them a girls day with them, complete with a spa day, shopping and fine dining

Any sons he has will probably have the opposite situation

Al would take little, if any interest in their lives

Once they learn to walk, talk and have awareness of the world around them, they’re practically on their own

If they’re hungry, they better learn to cook

If they need new clothes, they can earn the money for new clothes or make it themselves

If they want their father’s attention, they have to earn it & that usually means they have to be exactly like him for him to even start to care about his sons

This behavior most likely stems from how his mother treated him in life vs how his father treated him

Look at how he treats characters like Rosie, Mimzy and Niffty vs characters like Husk, Lucifer and Vox

It does unfortunately carry over into how he disciplines his kids

The girls will get lecturers and they’ll be grounded

If they did something particularly bad, he might spank them or hit their hands with a ruler or something but nothing extreme

His sons though…they’ll most likely receive beatings…

No lectures

Just cold, unyielding, lashes

Alastor’s really just someone who shouldn’t be a father…or at least, not have sons

Angel Dust:

He’d be such a good dad!

This man would die for his kids in a heartbeat!

He is a tad overprotective of them tbh

He absolutely does not want them near the p0rn district of Hell, especially if Valentino is there

He would sell his soul again to get his kids out of a contract but he’d rather avoid a situation where his kids have sold their souls outright

He’s also fair when it comes to exploring substances

He understands they’re all in hell and teenagers get curious

That being said, he’s flat out warn them with lighter stuff like alcohol and weed what it feels like to be drunk/high and what the side effects are

Stuff like cocaine though? No, absolutely not

He’ll tell them exactly what it’s like and why it’s not worth it

“The high ain’t worth it, you’ll feel worse than shitty once you’ve sobered up and you’re lucky if you just get a headache in the days after.”

His kids respect that he’s upfront with his knowledge so they usually take his word on it and heed his advice

He does try to hide a bit of his past from them

Not in a “they must never know” kinda way

It’s more like a “they’re too young to fully understand the severity of the shit I went through” kinda deal

Once they’re older, he’ll be honest about everything with them if they ask

Very supportive of his kids

They know they can come to him about anything and they usually do

Like if one of his kids comes out to him as trans for example, first thing he’s gonna do is smile and let them know that regardless of any physical changes, he still loves them

Will absolutely help them with a new wardrobe, hair style and even get them a pin or flag, whatever they’d like more

He also loves cooking with his kids

In those moments where they’re cracking jokes, spilling this week’s latest tea and just being a happy family that makes him realize he finally found that tomorrow to live for

Husk:

Another good dad!

A bit of an odd dad, but still a good dad

Part of why I say he’d be an odd dad is cuz a lot of his cat like instincts go into overdrive

For example: it’s quite common for cats to clean their kittens with their tongues

He loves his kids, he wants to keep them clean, he can’t stop himself from cleaning his babies

Hell take lots of cat naps with his kids in sunny spots at every opportunity he has

He purrs a lot more when his kids are around and just chillin

He also meows a lot at his kids when they newborn - toddler aged

The other part of his oddness as a father comes from the fact that he’s an older man and is oddly chill in times where you’d expect him to blow up

Like if he they’re helping him clean and they accidentally break something, he won’t get mad at them

Hell make a shitty joke

“Don’t work kiddo, gravity ain’t exactly our friend. Bitch probably hates us cuz we can fly.”

He also develops a sixth sense for kids, specifically when they’re about to do something stupid

To be fair, his best friend lover is Angel Dust so it’s not hard for him to sense stupidity

Tell me this isn’t the face of a man who felt a stupid thought and immediately pinpointed exactly who had said thought

It’s stronger with his kids

The second they think something stupid like “Dad can drink an entire bottle of ever clear and be fine, so I should be able to as well” he immediately shuts that shit down

He could be clear across pentagram city and still have his dad sense go off and he’ll reflexively call his kids while he’s sprinting in their general direction

Funnily enough he's absolutely the kind of dad who of he sees his kid come in with a bloody nose and he senses the situation isn't dangerous, he asks "did you win?"

If his kid answers yes, he high fives them XD

If they say no, they talk mad shit together

He’s a very blunt man so ofc he’s a very blunt dad

He’ll warn his kids about people like Al and why you can’t trust everyone

He’ll impart his wisdom on how to read people so they can keep themselves safe

He’ll also warn them about biting off more than they can chew so they don’t end up selling their souls to someone like Al like he did

He’s also very honest about his past

He knows his kids aren’t dumb so they’ll find out the truth eventually and he’d rather it’s through him than Alastor

In general he’d just rather not have Al messing with his kids

He’s also a actions over words kinda guy

So while he will tell his kids he loves them verbally, hes gonna do things for them more often than not

Like if they’re having a bad day, he’ll make them their favorite meal and let them vent for as long as they need to

If they cry, he won’t say a word, he’ll just pull them into a hug and let them cry out all their sadness and frustration

Even if it’s something as simple as them just not sleeping well the night before and waking up crabby, he’ll wordlessly make their favorite breakfast and take them out for a personal day later

He’s got a gruff exterior but his kids will only ever know his softer side if he has anything to say about it

Niffty:

….I’m conflicted with this one

On one hand, I know for a fact she could handle the house work and child rearing on her own

She’s got endless energy and is more than capable so the practical stuff isn’t the issue

It’s the actual raising of any potential children

Like if they aren’t genetically born with her unhinged personality, I feel like that’s something that they’re definitely gonna learn to do as they grow older

I also kinda feel like she’d let them be do things they just shouldn’t be doing

Like you know how she was in the oven while baking cookies???

Yeah…she’d have little to no issues with her kids doing that

That’s not to say she doesn’t love her kids!

She does with every fiber of her being!

Which is terrifying

Like remember how she scared the shit out of Val for messing with Angel?

Bare in mind, Angel is her friend, and she still went out of her way to make Valentino feel scared

Imagine someone messing with her kids

They would not survive

I’d even go so far as to that her protectiveness of her children would scare even Alastor

I do genuinely think she’d be a pretty good mom

But I feel like for the safety of everyone in hell, she shouldn’t have kids

Both because one Nifty is all we need and a Nifty with malicious intent is a force not even Lucifer could stop

Sir Pentious:

He’d be such an embarrassing dad

His kids would absolutely love and adore him without question

But he’s such a dork and even his kids see this

He uses modern slang incorrectly to his kids friends

He’d wear what he thought was fashion that’s “hip with youths” in public

And you bet every penny you have that he’s gonna do TikTok dances in public…horribly

Mans is the embodiment of this meme ⬆️

But he loves his kids and he’d do anything for them

He’s gonna fumble along the way

But that’s never gonna stop him from doing his best

He’s also a bit awkward and over the top in how he shows his love for his kids

Like if a birthday is coming up and he knows his kid wants a new phone but he has no idea what phone model they specifically wanted, he’s buying every model available

Sure he coulda just asked, but that makes way too much sense

Buying one of every phone makes much more sense 😤

Same thing with treats

His kid is having a bad day and he knows they like chocolate?

He’s buying all the chocolate in pentagram city

Why?

For chocolate related emergencies

He’s so ever the top but his kids low key love that about him

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 24: Never Alone

Chapter Word Count: 5,192

TW (Another heavy chapter)

1) Talks of cancer/dying 2) Child death mentioned 3) parent death mentioned 4) a LOT OF DEATH MENTIONED 5) SA/p*d*philia mentioned ( very briefly) 6) murder mentioned (complicated)

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“I-” You let out a labored breath, laying on the mat floor of the gym. “I want to die.” 

“Mouse, I only made you run for ten minutes.” Chan leaned over you, arms crossed over his chest, unimpressed by your dramatics. “That was just the warm up. We are going to be training every day since that’s my job now.”

After the adventures of a new car and a very pointed dick joke the night before, after breakfast the next morning, Seungcheol called you and Chan into his office. At first, you thought the leader was going to scold you for last night's comment, but why have Chan there if he was going to do that? 

Then Seungcheol explained that he had taken your…suggestion from two weekends ago into consideration and Chan was going to be training you in more self defense and hand to hand combat. After Chan and he determine you are up to decent standards, specifically Seungcheol’s standards, you’d start to work with Minghao with weapon training ranging from blades to guns, then maybe you’d be working with Junhui on long range shooting. However, you would need continuous and constant practice to perfect the training they were giving you, which you would gladly do.

“Come on,” Chan grabbed your hand and tugged on your arm weakly before you slowly got to your feet. “I know Soonyoung has seen the level of your self defense, but we are going to take the basics of what you already know and turn it into actual combat training. Cheol wants you to be able to take on someone around Soonyoung’s size or even Shua’s size. On days we don't practice combat, you’ll be doing cardio or weight training to build stamina and muscle.” 

“So you are going to kick my ass until I’m in decent enough shape?” 

“Pretty much, and don’t think because we are the same age that I’ll go easy on you.” Chan smirked and you scoffed. 

“Didn’t expect you to, not that I want to go easy. I was serious when I said that I wanted to be able to hold my own.”

Chan studied you for a moment, his eyes roaming your face for something but he only huffed a laugh through his nose. “Let’s get started then.” 

You wouldn’t say Chan training you was easy, not even close. 

He had expectations of milestones you should be meeting, he had made a whole training calendar you’d be keeping with or without him there. The first week was hard, you had to change your diet some to promote muscle building and drastically reduce the amount of caffeine you consumed in a day. You were downing much more water or vitamin drinks to keep you energy up without the caffeine.

After work, you’d drive to the penthouse building and head to the basement where you’d work out, practice your balance and fighting forms, and throw punches at a punching bag. Sometimes Mingyu and Wonwoo would stumble in, Mingyu training the latter for any matches or Seokmin would come work out beside you and Chan, giving plenty of encouragement. Jeonghan popped in, saying he was taking you to dinner one of the nights since Chan was ‘keeping you to himself.’

It was becoming the most you’ve spoken to Chan alone since getting yourself wrapped up in SVT. He’d complain about Seungkwan messing with him or how Changbin was pestering him to hang out when they both had the time. You’d tell him about the boring desk work you’d do or how your one coworker was bothering you to take him for a ride in your new car, which you turned down each time all week . Both of you laughed when you explained that Seokmin ‘set the guy straight’ and he came apologizing with his tail between his legs. 

But you also noticed that Chan seemed brighter, happier than he had been other times you saw him. Most days, he’d had a looming shadow following him, placing on a smile that did nothing in your eyes to hide the chip that weighed on his shoulders. The dark circles under his eyes were lighter, maybe sleeping more compared to the usual late nights. He was serious but he was able to sit on the matted floor at the home gym giggling about how Vernon and Seungkwan did something funny the day prior. 

In this state, you don't struggle to realize that Chan wasn’t as old as some of the others, he was a twenty-four year old guy. He had a love for music and some dancing, even if he’d probably never show you, and he had a sense of humor that was immature but fun loving. Chan knew how to push the other guys buttons but they also knew how to mess with him even the smallest bit to annoy him. 

Late Friday night, after a lovely dinner with Joshua, Chan pulled you into the gym outback. You started with endurance, running side by side on the treadmill before moving onto some weights, mainly working on your arms and chest, and ended it out with some hand to hand training with Chan using hand and body pads. 

You don’t know when the two of you ended up sitting on the floor, but Chan was going on and on, barely taking a breath between laughter.

“No no!” He continued to laugh, the sound itself contagious. “One time, Seungkwan tried to dye his hair himself in the bathroom of our first place and got the color everywhere in the bathroom. I’m saying navy blue was all over the sink and then the shower. He said he spilled it then Vernon said he tried to help him and I knew it was all over from there.” 

Now you were laughing, feeling Chan’s head bonk against your leg, watching him hold his stomach and roll on the floor. “Then- God if you were there- If you saw Cheol’s face when he went into the bathroom, I’ve never seen him more disappointed. After that he said no one is ever dying their hair in the bathroom again because he’d personally pay for anyone to get their hair done.” 

“Ohh, can I get that? I could use a cut and color.” Dramatically you flipped some hair over your shoulder and Chan only smiled wide and bright, staring up at the ceiling. 

“I had pink hair once. It wasn’t my favorite but I wanted to try a bunch of different hair colors. I think I’ve done all of the rainbow aside from red.” 

The image of Chan with different colored hair and styles was comical. You were so used to seeing him with dark brown or even black hair that anything different looked weird in your imagination. 

“Did you used to dye it yourself?” 

He shook his head, “Never in a million years. One of my…” Chan paused, tilting his head side to side. “One of my foster moms was a hair stylist and she let me do whatever I wanted to my hair as long as I had a good head on my shoulders.” 

“She sounds nice.” 

Chan hummed, nodding. “She was. The best foster mom my brother and I had. We spent four years with her and her husband. They started the process to adopt us but then she was diagnosed with stage three cancer. I was nearly twelve and my brother was nine when she died.” 

There was a distance in his gaze, an expression you know well when you were deep in thought or thinking back on things you’ve lived in the past. 

Reaching out, you patted some of his hair down that got messed up from his fit of laughter. “Can you tell me about them?” 

His eyes lifted and met yours, but you smiled, tilting your head to the side. 

“She…Her name was Mina and her husband was James.” Chan let out a breath, looking about the ceiling. “James was nice, it was his idea that they started fostering since Mina couldn’t have kids naturally. He always got my brother and me toys, and spoiled the hell out of us. Mina was the best, she always made us treats, let us be ourselves but taught us how to be decent kids. Mina got diagnosed and she started chemotherapy but it wasn’t looking good. We lost her then James just…shut down from what I remember. I had to call the police because he went off the deep end, had a mental breakdown. He loved her a lot…”

You saw him swallow and Chan sighed,  “Child services took us and we went to a shit house that sucked. Barely fed us, hurt us, I shielded a lot for my brother but then he got sick and they ignored it for a while. He got pneumonia and didn’t make it. I ran away after that.” 

Slowly, you continued to run a hand through his hair, hoping to ease some of the tension he was probably feeling. You said nothing, your heart ached for him, his situation was almost parallel with yours at some points. 

“It’s funny,” He scoffed, a weak smile on his face. “I used to have some hope that I’d wake up and this all was a dream.” 

That had you laughing quietly. “I think anyone in the foster system does. How did you end up in it?” 

“Our parents went out on a date and one of my friend’s parents were babysitting us. An eighteen wheeler hit them hard and the car rolled. I don’t know all the details still, I can’t bring myself to ask Wonu, but I heard my dad died on impact but my mom was still semi conscious when the police showed up and managed to tell them where we were. She died on the way to the hospital. We were in foster care with Mina and James days after.” 

“When you…ran away,” You didn’t know how to branch the question, you didn’t want to push him to answer something that he didn’t want to. “Was that how you found yourself with the guys? If you don’t want to answer don’t feel pressured-” 

“Have you ever killed someone? Wait- Dumb question. Don’t answer that.” He sat up, turning to face you, sitting criss-cross across from you. “Sorry.” 

Shaking your head, you raised a brow. “That isn’t the question I expected but at this point I should expect anything from you guys.” 

“When I ran away, I was fourteen, we spent two years in that shit house before my brother died, then I spent nearly two years bouncing around until Seungkwan and I stumbled upon each other, well, he stumbled upon me.”

“Stumbled? What, did he find you in an alley or some shit?” 

Chan looked away quickly and scratched the back of his neck. 

“Okay…” You leaned forward, placing your elbows on your legs. “Go on.” 

“I’m not going to go into all of it, it’s really messed up but I started working as a busboy at a restaurant. The chef was a big creep, definitely had a thing for…minors…” You gagged and he huffed a laugh. “Yeah tell me about it, but money was money and the job was easy. I was going to my usual spot to sleep for the night after work and he tried to proposition me…in an alley behind the restaurant. I said no, went to walk away, he grabbed me. We fought and I pushed him back hard and he tripped on something and his head got bashed into the brick wall.” 

“How does Kwan play into it?” 

“Seungkwan was walking home from somewhere, never really asked, but he said he heard me freaking out because the guy wasn’t waking up and I was trying to figure out what to do. There was a lot of blood because his head cracked open.” Looking down at his hands, Chan sighed, balling his hands into fists. “Seungkwan was so…calm. He said he was going to take me home and help me out. He took me inside to his mom and sisters saying I was a friend that needed a place to stay.” 

“And the guy?” 

“There weren’t any cameras in the alley, they found he had a high blood alcohol content, the alley was full of bottles and shit so they assumed he fell, bashed his head, and bled out.” 

“I can’t imagine how hard that was on you. Going through so much at a young age. You never got a break.” 

“That’s what I’m saying.” Though his eyes were sad, a smile spread on his lips. “Haven’t had a break for a day in my life.” 

You clapped your hands together, the sound they made had him furrowing his brows at you. “I know what we must do, Chan.” 

He chuckled, “Yeah, what is that?” 

“A cheat day, I want ice cream.” Quickly, you got to your feet, holding a hand out to him. “I think we both deserve it.” 

“You literally went for dinner with Joshua not five hours ago.” 

“Cheat day , Chan, not one meal. Come on. One big bowl of ice cream won’t hurt anything.” Giving him a wink, smiling wide, he took your hand and stood, shaking it firmly. 

“Fine, but I want chocolate chips and whip cream.” 

“I think that can be arranged.” 

“Wait so-” Seungcheol stared at the two of them in confusion. “You and Joshua are both dating Mouse?” 

“Yes, Cheol, that is what polyamory is. I’m dating Mouse, Mouse is dating me, but Joshua is also dating Mouse and she is also dating him.” 

Sitting in the office above the warehouse, the whole team just finished a meeting and went off while the three leaders stayed. They had moved from the conference table to the couches, finishing a discussion regarding the shipping company only to move onto a more…interesting conversation.

“And you are okay with that?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be? It was my idea.” Jeonghan laughed, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. “Out of the two of us, Shua is the possessive one.” 

“Will you stop saying that?” Joshua sneered, puffing his chest some. “I’m not possessive .” 

“Sure, anyways-” 

Seungcheol continued to stare at the two of them, eyes narrowed, mouth slightly agape. 

There wasn’t a single thought running through his head that wasn’t voicing concern and confusion for the entire situation. 

“Okay… And this was the reason why Mouse was locked in my office?” 

“Alright, well, there was more than that.” Trying to brush off the situation, Jeonghan waved his hand in the air but Joshua shook his head.

“No no. Tell him what you did.” Joshua pressed. 

Seungcheol was only going off the vague description of the situation Mouse gave but it wasn’t really helping now that he was getting the full thing. 

Jeonghan and Joshua held a stare between one another before Jeonghan dropped his shoulders in defeat, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

He started from the beginning, keeping any flair and dramatics to a minimum thanks to Joshua’s interjections to add anything to the story. From the moment Jeonghan knew Joshua started to like Mouse to the moment he got Seokmin into the plan, it made sense to Seungcheol. If he really thought about it, he could see it.

“Wait a damn minute, is that why you said to give Mouse a chance? The night after the Ruby incident?” His attention turned to Joshua. 

“I mean, me liking her wasn’t the full reason but it was part of it. And don’t put it all on me mister ‘I care about her like I care about the rest of you’.” 

“I’m missing something.” Jeonghan interjected but both Joshua and Seungcheol waved him off. 

That made the middle of the three continue his story. Joshua mocked him, putting his best Jeonghan voice on and quoted the 'I want you to date my girlfriend too’ line which had Seungcheol gagging in response. 

“I can’t believe the two of you. Isn’t it weird to be dating the same person?” 

“It’s only weird if you make it weird, Cheol~” 

“Well it’s weird. I’m going to get some actual work done.” Standing from the couch, he motioned towards the door. “Go do something useful.” 

“Grumpy as always, Cheol. Such a shame you don’t have a hot girlfriend like we do.” 

“Out!” The raise in his voice had no bite but Joshua and Jeonghan were snickering as they left the office space. 

Moving to his desk, Seungcheol fell into his chair, sighing heavily and picking up some documents before him. 

He tried to read over the words but the relationship the two were in with Mouse wasn’t settling with him. He couldn’t tell what was throwing him off about it or why but it left a bad taste in his mouth.

It wasn’t a matter of trust, he did trust the three of them to be smart, it was…something else that he couldn’t put his finger on. 

Monday to Wednesday, Chan had canceled your one on one sessions but told you to go to the basement gym at the penthouse and continue working out. Jihoon was waiting for you, saying he’d be helping with your weight training and endurance until Chan was back. When you tried to ask if everything was alright with the youngest, Jihoon made a face, somewhere between disgust and disappointment, but he only said Seungcheol sent him out on an op and he’d be back soon. 

Thursday, no one was at the gym, Jeonghan and Joshua were both working late, so you went through the motions by yourself, even wrapping your own hands and throwing some punches at the punching bag. Sona had showed up towards the end of your solo session, disregarding her own work out in exchange to go out and get some food. 

That’s how you landed yourself in a dinner with Sona, chowing down on some heavenly gravy fries, hearing her rant about some idiot messing up a shipment and Jeonghan was not happy about needing to stay late. She had worked all morning and afternoon so she left before seeing the outcome but insinuated it wasn’t probably a good one. 

“Ohh, no one told me we were going out.” Wooyoung’s voice had you jumping, feeling him slide into the booth beside you while Crow – Changbin – and Pluto – Yeonjun – got into the booth with Sona. “Fancy meeting your guys here, are we having a girls night?” 

“Well, we were having a good dinner until your cringe ass showed up.” Both you and him stared at each other before breaking out into smiles and sharing a hug. “Good to see you, Woo.” 

Returning the sentiment, Wooyoung nodded to the other two, giving smiles of their own. “You guys too, nice to see familiar faces. What brings you to this side of the city?” 

“I just got back into town.” Yeonjun pointed to the fries, giving you and Sona a look of approval before grabbing some. “We went out but got bored, Chan isn’t in town from what we heard so we came here and found you two.” 

Nodding along, you picked at the fries yourself, ordering another and some cheese fries when the waitress came by. “What exactly did you get bored of?” 

Woonyoung huffed, pouting his lips. “Joong kicked us out because we were annoying them to play poker with us.” 

“Then we went to Ruby but the DJ sucked – tell Apollo about that later by the way – so we wondered here.” Changbin scoffed. “What a boring day.” 

“Tell me about it.” You chuckled. 

“I enjoy all of your company but five is a crowd and I’ve been awake since four in the morning.” Sona slid over a black card towards you, “Use this for the night, give it back when I see you next.” 

“Ohh, company card.” Woonyoung snatched it up, holding it between his two fingers and examining the blank plastic with a smirk on his lips. 

“Ay, hands off, loser.” You took it back, watching as Changbin and Yeonjun got up to let Sona out. “Have a good night. I’ll slip this to Gyu since you see him more.” 

She gave a wave before she disappeared out the door, leaving you with the others. 

“So, Mouse, tell me about your boring day job you should totally quit since you have sugar daddies.” Yeonjun’s words had you laughing. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Giving a roll of your eyes, you thanked the waitress when she came back with the two plates of fries, smiling brightly. “I just work for the government, you know, on a task force that is supposed to be looking for SVT when we have the time.” 

Both Changbin and Woonyoung snorted. You shook your head. 

“It sounds ridiculous, I know.” 

“That’s an understatement, Chan told us what the big guy got you. Imported too? Which one are you dating again?” 

“Oh oh! I know this one, now she has two of them wrapped around her finger.” Wooyoung was diving into the food, snickering. 

“Damn, my boy Chan really gives you too much information on me.” 

“Mm, that is what happens when you are the same age. We might be separate groups, but we keep tabs on each other. The tea is always hot.” 

“Which two?” Changbin leaned in curiously. 

Wooyoung lowered his voice, smirking wider. “ Loki and Hades. ” 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you are sleeping your way to the top.” You laughed once more at Yeonjun’s comments, shaking your head. 

“Trust me when I say we aren’t even close to that.” Smiling to yourself, you rested your hand in your hand. “Both of them are perfect gentlemen, you know, aside from all the insanity.” 

“Eh, it adds to the excitement.” 

“Trust me, I have enough excitement in my life thanks to all of them.” 

Seeing Chan for the first time in nearly a week, he seemed…off. There was a distance in his gaze, a hollowness that he couldn’t shake. Talking to him showed he was barely paying attention, even if it was Seungkwan or Vernon.

Friday he had barely made it through dinner without going off to his room for the night, not being seen until you found him in the early hours of Saturday, sitting all bunched up in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he sat on the back patio. 

It was late, Jeonghan had woken up when you got out of bed but you said you just needed to get something to drink. Usually the house was dark but the light outside caught your attention, keeping you on edge until you saw Chan sitting by himself. 

You made two cups of hot chocolate, wrapping yourself in a blanket to fight off the night chill before you were heading out. 

Approaching slowly, you managed to get to his side, slowly bringing the first mug into his line of sight. He flinched at first but wide eyes looked at you in confusion before taking the cup, curling in on it to warm up. 

“How long have you been out here?” Pulling out a chair, you sat beside him, criss-crossing your legs to get comfortable. 

“Can’t really remember. Couldn’t sleep.” Chan sighed, taking a sip of the drink. “What about you?” 

“Couldn’t sleep, just one of those days.” You watched him lean his head up, looking to the near cloudless sky and to the moon above. “Not saying you have to, but I’m here if you want to talk about anything. I do know how to keep my mouth shut when needed.” 

Chan barely stirred, taking a breath in and sighing deeply. He seemed to be holding whatever was bothering him in, you couldn’t imagine how alone he might feel. He probably couldn’t even give the information easily.

Scooting your chair closer to his, you fixed your blanket to ward off the cold. “When I was in one of my last foster homes, I used to climb out my window, even if it was raining or snowing, and sit on the roof. When they found out, they’d scream at me but I didn’t care at that point. It was a moment of peace. I never wanted the moments by myself to end.” 

“Mouse…Do you ever regret anything you’ve done?” 

Your face scrunched up and you laughed, nodding. “Of course I do. I regret a lot of things in life, Chan.” 

“Do you talk about those regrets?” He turned his head towards you, the hollowness in his eyes staring back but there was sadness mingling around his gaze. 

“Sometimes. Seokmin once asked me if I regretted sneaking into the building the night I saw SVT. I told him I regretted going in, but a much larger, much more rebellious side of me, has never regretted it. I believe that you can regret things but also understand that you don’t have to dwell constantly on them.” 

“I regret a lot of things in my life.” 

The brokenness in his tone had your breath catching in your throat and you slumped your shoulders, sending him a sympathetic, soft smile. There was a moment of him studying your expression before he focused down on the mug, drinking the quickly cooling liquid. 

“Monday night…Minghao, Junhui, and I had to get a job done, ordered by Seungcheol. We traveled to one of our suppliers and…” He swallowed thickly, a shiver visibly running down his spine. “We slaughtered them, Mouse. All of them. They were in the process of giving up all our information to Monsta X. Minghao and Junhui only kept two of them alive to run back to fucking Shownu and tell him what we did.”

Suddenly, the burning of acid at the back of your throat was enough to place your mug down. It wasn’t the fact that they massacred a group, but the idea that they were in contact with Monsta X? That was what truly made you sick. Unexplainably disgusted. 

“When- Fuck-” Chan used one of his sleeves to wipe his face, taking a shaky deep breath to calm the tears that started to drip down his face. “When I started with SVT, I was just supposed to be a runner with Vernon, drugs and information, but Seungcheol got me into the shooting range and I was good, I still am. Then when Minghao and Junhui needed a hand, I was running with them, killing people .”

He was shaking and you took his mug, placing it down beside yours and had him sit facing you, using the blanket you had to help wipe his red, tear stained face. Chan was still holding in alot, but you only cooed, telling him to take a breath, take a moment to process. 

“I did as I was told, I followed orders, I’ve always followed orders from Seungcheol. He has done so much to get me out of shit situations. I owe him a lot, but every time I close my eyes, the chef is imprinted behind my eyelids and I can’t escape it. I usually don’t go as far with them, I usually just tie up loose ends and get a team to clean the area, that is fine, but when I need to get with them like this, what they do constantly? I can’t-” 

At this point, Chan was openly sobbing, curling in on himself. You shifted closer, opening your arms to him until he fell into you. The best you could, you wrapped your arms around him, dragging your hand up and down his back, just letting him let out all the emotions he was holding in. The tears seemed endless, seeping into the blanket and soon being felt against the skin of your shoulder. The grip he had wrapped around your torso was tight but you didn’t mind, knowing he needed to comfort one way or another. 

“I can’t keep killing people, Mouse-” He choked out the words, sucking in a strangled breath. “I can’t do it-”

“I know,” You were trying your best not to cry, wanting to stay strong so he didn’t see you crumble. “Have you talked to Cheol? If you were reacting like this, Chan, one day it’s going to be way too much.” 

Feeling him shake his head, you ran a hand through his hair, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he tried to calm himself. 

“I think-” He cleared his throat but didn’t move, “I don’t want Seungcheol to be mad at me if I tell him.” 

Frowning your brow, you huffed. “If Seungcheol is going to be mad at you because you are feeling overwhelmed and having a breakdown over it, then he is a shit leader.” 

“Don’t say that-” Chan tried to defend but when he did lift his head, you didn’t look impressed. “He cares a lot, I just…I don’t want him getting mad, he’d have to change things-” 

“Excuses, Chan. If he wanted to care about you guys like he boasts about, Seungcheol would be willing to change things.” 

“Please don’t tell him-” You could see the plea in his eyes. Chan begged, “Mouse, please-” 

“Chan, I can’t promise that.” Sighing, you wiped a stray tear from his chin. “Either you tell him or I will. We both know if this goes on longer, you won’t be able to cope with it…” 

He dropped his eyes before his head followed. You knew at that moment he wasn’t going to do it, there was an unspoken debt Chan had towards Seungcheol, even if Cheol knew it or not. 

You weren’t going to tell him that though, instead, you pulled the blanket he had on his shoulders around him tighter. “Let’s get inside, I’m fucking cold and I think you and I can use another cheat day.” 

Giving him a wink, you heard Chan give a whiny sigh. “You can’t keep having cheat days.” 

“Who said? You might be my trainer, but I am a grown woman that pays taxes!” 

“Hey, have you guys seen Mou-” 

“Sh-” Seungkwan shushed Joshua, making the older man stop in his steps. 

Looking curious, Seungkwan pointed from his spot at the table to the couch, not even looking up from his coffee. Joshua stepped over towards the couch, smiling softly at the scene before him. 

There, laying on the couch, curled up in the corner with Chan, was Mouse. Each of them were wrapped up in their own blanket, but two bowls of long finished ice cream that he could tell from the leftover sprinkles were on the coffee table. They were laying back to back, peacefully knocked out. 

“I found them like that an hour ago.” Seungkwan whispered. “He hasn’t slept well in days so I don’t want to wake them.” 

“She really does have some magic, huh?” Joshua made his way over to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

“Maybe she can use that magic on Seungcheol and he can sleep for once.” 

That made him laugh, sitting across from Seungkwan. “I’d like to see her try.”

Tag List is Open! Comment on the BSH Master List to get added!

@unlikelysublimekryptonite @iiaweirdo @aurorajoye @gaslysainz @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @vanteel @clownprincehoeshi @kpopandbookschild @honeybunchcrunch @black-swan-blog27 @peachie-wonu

[brillantradiance]

This is me just talking to the void but I can’t help but to imagine the version of solo leveling where there’s significant internal conflict. For example Jin Woo literally losing emotions every time he gets stronger. Like I wished the story took the time to actually delve into how that would affect him and the people around him.

Starting with the people around him I think Jin Woo would overall be apathetic in nature and as the story progresses values human life (other than his own and his family) less and less to point where if Jin Woo had a choice to either spare/save a group of people but not get exp or kill/ let them die to get stronger (kill boss/monster etc.) he chooses the latter without a single thought . And you see this in the demon king raid with Esil but I feel like he kinda gets away with it because they’re demons in a gate. No one is there to call him out on it. And he uses the logic oh if I was weak they would’ve done the same which is true but If the story changed where it was out in the open whether it be a raid with another guild or a dungeon break it gives Jin Woo a moral dilemma that tackles how he’s losing his humanity because now he’s dealing with people. I feel like Jin Woo would most likely still choose to get stronger like he’ll try to do both but if it means some hunters/civilians have to die to get the job done so be it. And by doing so, the public and maybe even his own guild members find him to be a bit more monstrous. Which Jin Woo wouldn’t care until that fear hits his family.

Jin Woo’s Family:

Imagine after that hypothetical scene Jin Woo comes home to greet Jin-ah just for her step back in fear because she was watching the entire broadcast after school and while watching Jin Woo brutally kill those monsters and maybe kill some people just to get to those beasts faster she’s reminded of the orcs that came to her school and just shuts down. I think it feeds into the tragedy where Jin Woo wanted to get stronger partly to support his Family just for his family to be afraid of him and his power. And Imagine after this Jin Woo waits for the feeling of devastation, the hurt, the pain to wash over him just to feel nothing. He feels empty. Out of habit, he reaches for her and Jin ah skitters to her room. Jin Woo stands there feeling completely hollow. And as if he’s a zombie leaves the apartment to look for another gate just to feel something.

And in terms of his mother: I think after he wakes her up his mother does not recognize him at all. (Like I know it’s been four years but Jin Woo would’ve been 20 and most likely would’ve stopped growing his appearance would not be able to change that drastically) She panics : yelling who are you and Jin Woo does his best to calm her down. Then she looks into his eyes seeing how cold and lifeless they are and states you aren’t my son. My son was full of life. You reek of death. And maybe it’s not until Jin-Ah comes and explains that is in fact Jin Woo she finally accepts him. Also headcannon since Jin Woo serves as a vessel to the shadow monarch as he gets stronger his body temperature decreases due basically being the lord of the dead. Jin woo’s mom goes to embrace him just to realize he’s cold as a corpse. And the panel you see is his mom’s eyes completely overcome by fear and concern.

I think moments like this would make his choice to side with humanity so much more potent. maybe if he could never be ‘human’ like he once was he could use terrifying power to protect them regardless. OR push him to join the monarchs in the end because there’s nothing left for him on Earth. (Hero to Villain Jin Woo would’ve been so iconic like I can go into heavy detail)

Side note: another thing I will say is that story really does go out of its way to make Jin Woo never in the wrong for killing anyone which I can’t stand if he’s going to be morally grey commit to the bit. Let other characters not like him don’t just make them cartoonishly evil and then kill them off. OR let Jin Woo kill them off without cartoony evil antics and use that to reflect on Jin Woo as a character. Again it shows how he’s losing his humanity. Like the most egregious example was the Thomas Andre fight. They had to throw in im going to kill this bastard because he hurt my ego line just so Jin Woo can beat the shit outta of him. Like seriously, aside from that Thomas was literally just doing his job.

This was completely unedited and first time doing something like this. But if you made it to the end of this rant. Thank you. I have become deranged because of the potential of what Solo leveling could’ve been. Let me know if y’all want more rants. I could go on for days.

[pearl-the-artist]

(You called for me) Gabriel / Reader Oneshot

Ok please be patient with me on this. I spent over 24 hours in a car on a trip to Russia a few days ago and it made me do something I've never dared to before: write a fanfic. On my humble Samsung notes.

If this isn't a total flop I might make more? I dunno? Maybe hop on ao3?

Criticism and feedback is appreciated ok thank youuu have fun

Another restless night, another hour spent lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling above you. The room was shrouded in the comforting night air, more illuminated than usual by the soft glow of the full moon outside.

You look at the clock on your nightstand; precisely midnight. Two hours after your drunken father came home again, letting his pent-up frustrations and anger out on you in a one sided yelling match. Of course, as usual, neither was your mother of any support; only giving you that same disapproving, disdainful glare. You were never really welcome, not even in your own home- your parents biggest mistake lingering around only to weigh them down, and remind them of what they could've had. Or so they've told you, many, many times before. Tonight was no exception.

When the broadcasts first announced the new threat infesting the county, "alternates" they called them, you were, admittedly, both terrified and somewhat relieved. You were never really one to believe in the supernatural, but who knows, your parents were just superstitious enough to maybe fall for their schemes.

The first announcement had been around, what, a year ago now? Not much had really changed admittedly, although the population had begun falling drastically since then.

Your parents had of course used this opportunity to also confiscate your phone, the CRT TV in your room and old little MP3 player gifted to you by a relative, god forbid you let an alternate in to potentially threaten them, your own safety not even really a point for consideration to them.

Living with your parents was already hell, but getting by without your favourite albums and shows? Torture.

So tonight when you lied in bed unable to fall asleep, your mind wandering as usual, it may have wandered a little too far.

You recalled something you overheard your parents talk about. A friend of your dad's, a man of unwavering faith, who had been found dead in his own home a few weeks ago, seemingly in the middle of his usual prayers. Even though his family mentioned having seen an odd, ghostly figure outside their home that night, the doctors seemed to blame the cause of death on a brain hemorrhage.

It made sense, come to think of it. When you first saw the emergency PSA, it explained all kinds of methods to protect yourself from alternate attacks, one of which being avoidance of religion, faith, and philosophy.

So then, the alleged "ghost" that visted that poor man just might've been... Well.

This gave you a bad idea, but you weighed the options available to you.

Either you would die in a similar way as the old man, or... you might just get lucky and bargain with it. Alternatively, nothing happens, and you remain stuck with an unhappy married couple that hates each other as much as they hate you.

It was definitely stupid, but at this point it seemed like you had nothing to lose anyway. You weren't really much of a believer yourself, so you didn't exactly know how to pray, but you gave it your best shot. Sitting up in your bed, hands clasped together with a bowed head and closed eyes, you tried your best to focus.

If there was a god out there, may it hear your pleas. Wordless whispers called for help, begging to be heard, while you did all you could to try to concentrate on any spiritual connections. All the while you knew you may as well be praying to a literal demon.

A few minutes passed as you racked your brain for what to say before you stopped, your hands falling back into your lap.

What the hell were you doing? Yes you hated it here, and you couldn't even run away if you wanted to, but inviting an alternate to your house just like this? It was a death sentence, and not a pretty one, that much was certain.

You shook your head. It probably wouldn't have worked anyway. Right, this was all just some silly superstition, not that different from those "send this to 5 other people or you'll die tonight" chain e-mails. You laughed internally at how silly it was that you even thought this would work to begin with, and, admittedly, felt a brief sense of relief. You decided that you were ready to just go back to sleep, and just as you pulled your blanket up to crawl back underneath it- you almost jumped.

It was a voice, faintly audible outside your window. You didn't even process it until a few seconds after, a barely legible, strained whisper.

"I heard you praying."

You froze. A cold wave shot right to your stomach. Slowly, agonisingly so, you turned around to face your bedroom window.

A tall figure stood outside, its hands clasped together similarly to how you just had a few minutes ago. With long, flowing white robes and silver, wavy locks that reached down to his shoulders, he looked... Ethereal. Not to mention the massive, pure white wings folded neatly behind his back. His head blocked out the full moon, the light creating something almost like a halo around him, making him appear even more angelic.

"Woah."

You couldn't help the little gasp of awe. He seemed to find it amusing, his grin spreading a little too wide for comfort. Admittedly, you almost doubted if he even was an alternate at all. Maybe you'd come out a person of faith yourself, after this.

"Are you... An alternate?"

You whispered hesitantly, quiet enough to try to conceal the trembling in your voice and also not alert your parents sleeping upstairs, though you weren't sure if he actually heard you at all.

He didn't respond for a moment, tempting you to ask again, before that inhuman whisper was heard again.

"You called for me, and now I am here."

Avoiding your question, huh. Suppose he was an elusive sort. You quickly glanced around your room, eyeing the door in particular just in case; you really hoped your parents were asleep.

"May I... Come closer?"

You couldn't even recall the last time you were this polite to someone, though it was your best bet not to piss him off while he was still friendly, if you could even call it that. You had no point of reference, though he wasn't actively trying to harm you, so it was a start.

The angel, his smile unwavering, simply nodded, waving his arm in an invitation to approach.

It took a moment for you to will your body to move from the initial shock, but with slow, careful steps you moved to open the window to properly speak to him, a pleasant cool breeze inviting itself into your room.

"So... What's your name?"

Did alternates have names? Suppose they just took on the name of whoever they were trying to mimic. You leaned onto the window frame, trying to catch a good look at his face; and for the first time in god knows how long you were met with eyes that, albeit a bit creepy and lifeless, looked back into your own with an unfamiliar lack of hostility.

"You may call me Gabriel, child."

Gabriel? That name sounded familiar- Oh! The Saint Gabriel's church at the edge of town. Suppose that made sense, given his angelic appearance, if it wasn't just one morbid coincidence. Your thoughts and scrutinizing stare dragged on for a bit longer than you were aware of, though, as his voice pulled your attention back to him.

"Are you lost, my lamb? I can save you. Let me in. Let me into your mind."

The last bit seemed a bit more... Pushy than the rest, making your stomach feel just a little heavier. You gathered your thoughts anyway, trying to push that feeling aside for now. You did do this for a reason, after all, though now that he was actually here you were starting to second guess things.

Gabriel seemed to take note of your hesitation after a while of you not responding.

"Open your eyes, my lost little one. Look at me. I can grant you anything you wish for. You just need to let me in."

An odd mix of dread and comfort you'd never felt before settled in, and the feeling was almost... Refreshing, in a way. You quickly glanced back up at him, and he was still staring at you, ever so patiently, eerily.

"Uhm... I was just- well, it's probably kind of silly."

No backing out now, not when he was already here. Even if you wanted to, you don't think he'd let you go so easily. As you verbally stumbled over your own thoughts, he simply waited, his unblinking eyes staring into you, gouging out your soul. Or so it felt.

"I just thought... Is it possible for, well... Is there a chance for humans to be able to ally with alternates? Can I join you?"

Surprisingly, that got his smile to falter, if only a little bit. A flicker of emotion you couldn't quite explain showed in his eyes- surprise, perhaps, or consideration.

"What for, my child?"

That uncanny whisper of his never gave away any emotion, monotone and unfeeling, yet not unfriendly. Admittedly, his question made you pause; you hadn't exactly thought of how to explain this to him. You hadn't even expected him to show up at all.

Fidgeting nervously, unsure of whether to tell him the truth or not, you tried to think of what to say. Despite your rationality screaming at you for being an utter moron, you knew you were in too deep at this point.

"I don't think I'm any good to these people at all anymore, I just... don't know what to do anymore. With myself. I have nowhere else to go. And, maybe..."

You weren't sure if you should say it or not, you already let more vulnerability slip than you wanted to. But your spite driven words were quicker than your brain, and man did it feel good to open up for once.

"...maybe for revenge, also."

Gabriel listened to you surprisingly attentively, very interested in your words. At your last statement, he perked up with an almost malicious twist to his grin. Before he could respond, though, you suddenly heard the sound of your parents creaky old bedroom door and footsteps from upstairs. And you could tell by the sound of them that it was your mother. And she was pissed.

For a very panic filled moment you weren't sure what to do, your thoughts racing- instincts called for you to jump into bed and pretend you were asleep like you usually would... but with Gabriel here, you couldn't- and that's when you realized you really only had two real options.

Stay here, and continue living this miserable life, and also deal with the imminent outburst of your mother.

Or go with him, and then... Well, nothing and no one could possibly guarantee what would happen to you then.

"Choose wisely, my dear lamb."

Your dilemma seemed to be rather palpable to the "saviour" as he pulled you out of that mental spiral, and you were rather grateful for it. As much as it made you nauseous with uncertainty and anxiety, you finally snapped out of that paralysis and turned towards the window.

"Please, help me. This is the only favor I'll ever ask of you. I will do anything you want in return, I promise."

You began to plead in an urgent, hissed whisper, practically leaning out of the window, causing him to take a step back.

Desperation and panic shook your words as you glanced back at your bedroom door.

"Get me out of here."

He chuckled, an amused sound mixed with something you couldn't quite explain that made you feel more fuzzy than you'd care to admit.

"Come. Come to me, my child. Step outside."

For the first time tonight hesitation became a foreign concept as you practically leapt out that window. Your bare feet felt the cold gravel beneath, just in time as the door to your room swung open.

The angered yelling of your mother were drowned out by the feeling of suddenly being lifted off the ground, Gabriel taking you up into his arms like your weight was akin to a feather.

He was cold, lifelessly so. And yet the soft silken robes, the way he held you in his arms, and his deceitfully promising whispers were lulling you into a sense of security you hadn't felt in a long, long time.

"A lost little lamb, asking their shepherd for guidance..."

His eerie, yet strangely comforting laugh filled your ears once more over the noise of your mother not yet realizing you weren't in your bed. You're surprised she wasn't hearing him at all. Maybe it was another mind game of his.

"You made the right decision. I knew you would. Such a smart, yet scared little thing you are, are you not?"

You leaned your head against his chest, sighing deeply, beginning to forget what you were ever doubtful about during the start of this whole fiasco. Your weight began to sink into his arms as you relaxed. He held you a little tighter in turn.

"Of course I shall guide you, my child. Come with me; you will be mine. You will be safe."

Just as the furious woman realized to check the opened window, Gabriel vanished as swiftly as he appeared, leaving behind the sight of nothing but an empty garden, peacefully quiet, as if you were never there.