#my next opportunity will be probably another decade at least

[letstrywritingmaybe]

I’m trying to write the next part of the sibling verse and I’m a little undecided over how things should go… so I’m thinking maybe I should just try and start the lying verse instead. I’ll edit the first part of the POV series later, I’m planning for a lunar new year update since it’ll be my day off. But we’ll see. I should also edit my Valentine’s Day ficlets too… I’ve not been on it at all writing wise with being busy amongst other issues… also trying to talk myself out of a big purchase but I’m kinda the worst at that cause I’m all about experiences and it’s literally on my bucket list! There’s a reason why I keep saying I’m self indulgent as hell, in all aspects of my life I’m like this *sigh the problem with being an impulsive fangirl with no chill. I’m supposed to be a responsible adult and I do not act like it

Just an addition, yo this lie verse is so typical lots of love vibes, like this is all my fics. Literally, I say this as if I don’t write fics that are like my vibe, but still. I’m just reading through my overall outline and I’m like this is what I was thinking??? Definitely very reminiscent of when I started this writing thing. Which means I hope I can keep it short, but also I’m impatient which is why I fail. I never wrote it cause too many other ideas but also cause I’m so bad at executing my visions cause I’m too impatient! Basically what I’m trying to say is, authors who can write slow burn well and keep things not super sappy I applaud you cause I could never. My brand really is just a fangirl with a bunch of ideas she speeds through cause she cannot keep focus and do it justice completely. And this is why I could never do this professionally, it’s an art and I’ve definitely not mastered it. Not even close

Unrelated thought that I’m just gonna let sit for a moment cause I don’t wanna get into it, but I’m generally curious over what the rest of the shippers think about the level of attraction between them and how extreme it can be. Cause I have my extreme of toxic as hell and girl you need run via the adoption divergent of the marriage verse. But generally I prefer softness and it’s what I typically write. But some fics I read make me want to explore the more extreme side… okay for real gonna go to bed now. Nighty night 😘🩵🌙

Update: I’ve sorta edited the valentines event ficlets and I’ve finally settled on a summary of sorts for the lie verse. And I wrote one whole sentence! Tomorrow I’ll have to edit the pov verse. I’m still unsure over the sibling verse, so it’s on the back burner. It’s a good thing I never make promises to update regularly cause I’m the worst at that

Update 2: I’ve started the lie verse and I’m undecided how long each chapter should be? Cause I also don’t know how many chapters there will be either??? Decisions, decisions… I’m 1.5k into chapter one and I’m at a good stopping point… but idk.

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

Half-Life | Chapter Three

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The distraction didn’t last long, however.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hated it.

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

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

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

And, for some reason, he trusted you.

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

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

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

It would have been easier if you had just run.

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

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

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

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

He cursed himself under his breath.

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

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

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

The sight that greeted him baffled him to his core.

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

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

Was you.

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

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

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

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

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

So that was the strange noise he heard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, that too. But still not it.”

“Then why?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually, he’d learn to repress them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was his favorite book.

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

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

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

Once upon a time, he had hoped he could pass on that little book to his own child when he finally managed to settle down.

What a pipe dream that was. 

Well, maybe it could bring another kid joy if it wasn’t just thrown out altogether by his landlord. It wasn’t like he had anyone to give his things to, after all.

Perhaps Claire had the chance to go through them and send everything to a shelter. He could wish. 

He supposed there was no use thinking about it now, though.

It was ten years too late.

“Leon?” you asked him, pulling him from his thoughts with your soft voice. “Did you hear me?”

He exhaled, sporting a sheepish expression. “Sorry, I was just thinking. Say it again?”

“I was telling you about the fuel I brought.”

“Fuel?”

“For the generator! I figured we could get it up and running. That is, if you’re okay with it. I even got extra lightbulbs in case some of them don’t work.”

Leon shook his head and chuckled, taken aback by how much thought you put into your return. “What did your ride have to say about all of this?”

“Nothing, cos I rented a car for the week. Wanted to make sure I had a way to get back into town whenever I needed. You know, in case I missed anything.”

“Missed anything?” he asked, incredulous. “By the looks of it, you brought everything but the kitchen sink.”

“One can never be too prepared!” you defended earnestly.

He fought a wide grin but ultimately lost to his amusement. “I guess that’s true.”

After you finished showing him everything you brought, the two of you got down to business. You managed to get the old generator up and working, replacing a few of the lightbulbs that had gone out. After that, Leon went back to the edge of the lake to retrieve his bounty of fish while you remained behind to put things away.

When he returned, he found you finishing your task by placing the books you bought onto the shelf next to the dining table, slotting the last one into position as he approached. The two of you stood there, eyes roaming over the different titles nearly in unison.

It was a random array of classics, modern fiction of different genres, and nonfiction that consisted of how-to guides, memoirs, historical biographies, and science books. You really seemed to choose a little of everything, and he appreciated it.  

He caught you smiling in his peripherals, turning to face you as you pulled out a novel with a black, shiny cover. You looked up at him with a teasing glint in your irises before saying, “Ever read this classic? I picked it out just for you.”

He grabbed the book from your hands and stared at the title. “Twilight? Can’t say I’ve heard of it.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head as you pulled the book back from his grasp, looking at the inside of the cover. “That’s right, you’ve been here since before this was even published.”

“That mean I was missing out?” he questioned jokingly.

You had a wicked expression on your face as you replied, “Oh, you were. It’s practically a modern Jane Austen if you can believe it. A love story of epic proportions.” You squinted at him for a second before biting your lip and adding, “You might even relate a bit to the love interest.”

“What, is he a monster, too?” 

“Vampire, so close enough.”

“What kind of vampire are we talking about here? Nosferatu? Dracula? How human does this guy look?” 

“Pretty human, I’m afraid. But he sparkles in the sun, so that’s kind of inconvenient.”

Leon scoffed. “Poor him.”

You laughed and he basked in the sound of it. “Poor him, indeed. Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll read some of it to you before bed.”

He raised a brow at that, ignoring how that made his stomach flip at the thought. “You gonna tuck me in while you’re at it? Get me a warm glass of milk?” 

You rolled your eyes as you slid the book back into its place on the shelf. “Only if you’re a good boy.”

His mouth went dry at your words, unexpectedly affected by them and unable to reply.

Seeing how he froze, you cleared your throat and rushed to change the subject, “Anyway, I wanted to ask you how bathing works here. I didn’t see a tub in the house anywhere.”

Leon shook his head to clear his thoughts before responding, “Yeah, I’ve been doing that in the lake, actually.”

“Hm, it’s a little too cold for me to do that. I guess I can live off of rag baths or something.”

“There are some in the area, like big wash basins. I can bring one in here for you, put it in the side room there. We can just dump the water out the window or something when you’re done. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold or feel gross while you’re here.”

“That would be amazing,” you said, leaning over and running your hand down his bicep. He was forced to suppress the shiver the action caused as you continued, “Thank you for being willing to go through the trouble.” 

Against his better judgment, he gripped your shoulder lightly. “It’s the least I could do after all this.” To make his point, he gestured around the house with his free hand, referring to the electric light filling the room, the stocked fridge and pantries, and the books that now lined the once-empty shelves. 

“You deserve it, Leon. I wish I could do more for you if I’m honest.” A faint pink tinged your cheeks as you looked away from him. 

He felt his heart stutter in his chest at that, wishing he could pull you into his arms but knowing that was far too forward. 

“Anyway, I’ll start making dinner if you want a taste. I know you got your fish to eat, but you might like a homemade meal after so long without one.” 

“Yeah, that sounds… nice. I’ll go get a tub for you, I guess.”

You smiled at him brightly and he begrudgingly let you go to do as he said he would, thinking about you the whole time he was out.

After about half an hour, he returned, having found and scrubbed clean a dirty metal bathtub he found in one of the village houses, along with an old rug. While you set the table, he placed the piece of fabric on the ground beside the far window in the side room and then put the tub on top of it, hoping it would serve you well.

The two of you ate dinner, and although he found it delicious, he couldn’t help but prefer his fresh meat to the meal you had cooked. 

You had noticed his avoidance of the vegetables on his plate and laughed about it, asking him if he was really that picky. He was quick to inform you that he could eat plants, but he didn’t like them or need them to live.

“Ah, a true carnivore,” you had said, nodding as if you understood. As if that were normal. 

He would probably never get you. But he wanted to, for whatever reason. 

After dinner was finished, you cleaned the dishes and pulled out that book you had mentioned earlier, looking positively maniacal as you plopped onto the loveseat by the fireplace. Leon sat on his stool, leaning back against the dining table as he awaited your performance.

He realized very quickly why you were so giddy to read it to him.

It was awful, and you seemed to find subjecting him to it hilarious.

He told you as much after you finished the first chapter and you giggled. “I’m sorry, but this book came out when I was a teenager and it had me in a chokehold at the time. It’s funny now, but you can somewhat blame this series for pushing along my obsession with the occult.”

He hadn’t given much thought to the age gap between you, but he realized suddenly that it was at least a decade. You were a grown woman and he wasn’t aging, but that didn’t stop him from questioning it a little. Just another reason he shouldn’t entertain this pull to you he seemed to have. 

However, that couldn’t stop the next few words from coming out of his mouth, the casual flirtation as natural as breathing, “So you’ve always had a thing for monsters, then? Here I thought I was special.”

“You are special,” you assured him, making heat rise to his face. “Insomuch that you’re the first and only monster I’ve come across. Besides, I don’t think Mothman would be so quick to invite me over for dinner.”

“He’s missing out, then,” Leon mused, forcing himself to calm down and not read into what you were saying. “You’re an entertaining guest.”

The two of you chatted and joked all evening, much like the last time you had visited, before you decided it was time for bed. You took turns brushing your teeth in the kitchen sink—Leon grateful that you brought him a new toothbrush and paste to use—and then you carried your duffle bag to the adjoining room to change into your pajamas. 

He grabbed some of your things to go upstairs with him, switching to sleepwear himself before unfolding your air mattress on the floor by the window.

The glass was still broken from when Ada had shot through it a decade ago, and although Leon had cleaned the shards off the ground so that he wouldn’t get them stuck in his feet, he never bothered to patch the hole. Watching you enter the room and shiver as the breeze blew in, he decided tomorrow he would cover it, just to keep you comfortable. 

You laughed when Wolfie barked at the small mechanical air pump loudly whirring as it began to fill the bed, and Leon smiled as you kneeled next to the canine and petted him to alleviate his distress. You patted the dog bed you placed beside Leon’s footboard, cooing as he curled up on it immediately.

Leon could get used to this, you being here. And that was a dangerous thought. You were only back a day—only planned to stay a week—and already he was settling into whatever new normal came with being around you.

He needed to put some distance between you expeditiously if he wanted to keep what was left of his sanity.

As you finished inflating the mattress and placing the bedding you brought for it, you turned to face him and saw the frown and furrowed brows that marred his features.

“Leon, you okay over there?” 

He shifted his gaze to you again, schooling his expression and inwardly admonishing himself for not controlling it in the first place. He supposed he was out of practice, though he was never really good at hiding his emotions, anyway.

“M’fine. Just… tired.” It was close enough to the truth. He had barely slept the night before and he knew there were bags under his eyes as you took in his face thoughtfully.

“Hope I didn’t keep you up too late,” you apologized, biting your lip and looking almost timid.

Fuck, you were cute.

Unfair.

“Course not. Even if you did, I think it was worth it,” he assuaged, running his clawed hand through his hair. “Not like I have a job to do or anything. Plus side to being a cryptid is that you don’t exactly have to follow a schedule.” 

You giggled, visibly relaxing, and shuffled under the covers of your bed. “Well, thank you for letting me stay again. I’m having a good time and I hope you are, too.”

“No problem,” he replied, thinking that perhaps he should be thanking you for the company you were providing him. He refrained. “And I am. It’s been… nice.” That was the understatement of the century, he knew, but it was all he was willing to express.

“Good,” you said before you rubbed your face into your pillow, a loud yawn echoing in the room. “Night, Leon.”

“Night.”

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed awake after that, listening to you snoring softly across the room in a way he found almost endearing, his head foggy with exhaustion and the sheer disbelief that you were here at all.

The things you did to him, you’d never know.

Then finally, he closed his eyes.

+++

You awoke slowly to the sound of someone calling your name, rubbing your eyes and sitting up on your inflatable bed.

You yawned as you peered over, Leon crouched on the floor by his footboard, running his fingers through Wolfie’s fur.

“I see you learned your lesson about how to wake me up,” you teased, voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

He shook his head, smiling. “What can I say? I’ve always been a quick study.”

You offered an upward tug of your lips before you lifted your arms above your head, stretching out until a soft squeak left your mouth against your will. 

You heard Leon chuckle beside you and you gave him a faux glare as you ripped the blankets off your legs. “What’s so funny, Mr. Kennedy?”

He stood up and only needed to take one long step to be next to your bed, towering over you, before he bent down and offered his hand. “Nothing at all, little rabbit.”

You scoffed but allowed him to easily pull you to your feet. “Is that my official nickname now?”

“‘Fraid so. It suits you a little too well.” His eyes were on you for a moment before they drifted to your still-joined hands. He ran his finger over the ring you were wearing; the one he had given you. “I thought you were joking when you said I was proposing to you,” he mused.

“I was,” you huffed indignantly. “When I pawned off the other stuff you gave me, I decided I wanted to keep this one because it looked cool. And… it reminded me of my time here.”

“And you just so happened to put it on your ring finger?”

“Don’t you get any ideas. It just fits that one best.”

He grinned down at you mischievously before releasing your hand from his grip. “If you say so.” 

“Anyway, now that we’re up…” You sidestepped him to open the bedroom door, trying not to let him see the way his teasing got you all flustered. “I’d like you to take me on a tour today. After breakfast, of course.”

He sighed with exaggerated annoyance. “If I have to.”

You nodded before bounding out of the room and down the stairs, calling back, “You do!”

You were quick to enter the side room, peeling off your pajamas and pulling out your clothes for the day. You eyed the top you had bought the morning before on a whim, considering how it flattered your form and showed a decent amount of your cleavage, but thought better of it. These little flirtations you shared with Leon likely didn’t mean anything, and you loathed to appear desperate. You’d save it for another day, you decided.

You finished changing, then dealt with your unruly hair before brushing your teeth and washing your face. 

Leon joined you shortly after in the kitchen, also donning a new outfit, though the worn fabric and the awkward way it hung off of him made you want to get his measurements just so you could spoil him with a new wardrobe. You worried about going through with it, though, afraid it would come across as rude or even creepy to ask. 

Like the top you deliberated wearing, you decided to save that conversation for another day. You had a week, after all. 

“You making anything for breakfast?” he questioned, leaning casually in the archway, his long arms crossed in front of his chest. You found it both funny how human it was and… strangely attractive.

You averted your gaze. “Just gonna eat cereal. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t expect you to be my personal chef, you know.” He pulled one of the fish he caught the day prior from where you had stacked them in the bottom of the fridge. “Plenty happy with what I got.” 

You scrunched your nose at the smell of the scaly creature as he released it from its ziplock bag. “Eat whatever you want, Leon, but you better scrub your mouth after that. Can’t have you reeking of fish while we’re out all day.”

He offered a lazy salute before taking a large bite. “Yes, ma’am.”

You grinned and prepared your own breakfast, your stomach already growling.  

After eating, and after Leon dutifully brushed his teeth and tongue with added vigor at your behest, he pulled out an old map to aid in your little adventure. You noted the handwritten scrawls across the page, naming each location in the area. You weren’t sure what building you were in, so you trailed your finger from the hunter’s lodge to where you assumed Leon’s house sat.

“We’re here, I’m guessing?” you asked him, pointing at what was titled “the chief’s manor” on the old, yellowed paper.

He nodded, seeming impressed. “Didn’t expect you to figure it out so quick.”

“Well, I use maps on my investigations, you know. A lot of places with cryptid sightings have shit service, so I can’t rely on my GPS. You eventually figure things out after getting lost in the woods a couple times.”

He chuckled at that. “So, where do you want to go?” 

You stared thoughtfully at the map for a few moments, thinking about where you’d like to start. “How about we explore the right side of the area first since we’re already here? Then we could do the left side tomorrow.”

“You’re the boss,” Leon said, shrugging.

“Damn right,” you replied with a smile.

You then got to work filling your backpack with water bottles and a sandwich for later. You even added a baggie full of lunch meat for Leon.

Once out of the door, the two of you (and Wolfie, of course) began your little journey. There was a cool breeze that swept across the path ahead, but the sun was high and warmed your skin. You even pulled out your ballcap and placed it on Leon’s head to keep the light out of his sensitive eyes, which he rolled at your demand, but didn’t protest. 

You traveled down to the abandoned factory and what the map called “the valley”. The factory didn’t hold much of your interest after a quick sweep, but the valley was like a playground to you, the area just a bunch of wooden platforms and bridges set into the surrounding cliffs with a couple of small, empty buildings.

Leon didn’t have much to say about any of it, grumbling about how the area was one he usually avoided, but you caught him smiling softly at your excitement. You were glad for it because you knew most people found your unbridled joy more annoying than endearing.

After that, you circled back, passing Leon’s house and heading to the village in order to reach the church.

As you were perusing the gravestones in the front, enamored by just how old some of them were, you spoke to Leon about something that had been on your mind, “So, the day we met, you told me that I reminded you of someone. Can I ask who?”

He let out a puff of laughter at your nosiness. “Her name's Claire. We survived Raccoon City together.”

“She become an agent, like you? Or was she the person you were protecting when you were forced to join?”

“Neither. She took off pretty much as soon as she could to find her brother. The person I was protecting was this girl named Sherry. She had antibodies against one of the viruses in the city, and they were threatening to experiment on her if I didn’t do their bidding,” he explained, his expression hardening at the memory.

“Jesus,” you muttered. “Your friend ever find her brother?”

“Yeah, at least that side of things worked out.” 

“So… what happened after? Y’know, before you came to the village,” you questioned.

“I’m not sure what you mean. I worked as an agent for six years. Then this. Not much else to say about it.”

You bit your lip, deliberating how to go about asking him what you wanted to know, deciding to be straightforward instead of coy. You had never been good at subtlety, anyway. “I meant you and Claire. Were you guys a thing?” 

“Ah.” He chuckled lightly. “No, we weren’t. She’s great, don’t get me wrong, but we were just friends. Kept in touch until, well… you know.”

“Right.” You found yourself to be strangely relieved that there was nothing between them, but you admonished yourself for even caring. You were only here for a week, after all. No use getting attached, especially after only a couple of days.

He was thoughtful for a moment before he added, “I wonder about them all the time. How they’re doing. A lot can happen in ten years.”

“I don’t know about your friends, but I can at least update you on Ashley, if you’d like?” you offered. 

“Is she okay?” he questioned, going stiff. He seemed to always expect the worst and that broke your heart a little.

“Yes, she’s perfectly fine,” you assured him, glad to see him visibly relax at your words. “In fact, she’s more than fine.”

He tilted his head, “That so?”

“She’s a member of Congress now. Kind of following in her dad’s footsteps, I guess. She’s pretty popular among the younger crowd, always fighting for the underdog. They started calling her a saint after she founded an organization to help people who’ve gone through kidnapping, hostage situations, and things like that. A real inspiration.” 

Leon smiled wistfully. “I’m happy to hear that. I always knew she had it in her, to be her own hero.”

“You know, she’s made several public statements about what happened here. Obviously, there were parts heavily doctored, but still.” You paused a moment, playing with the hem of your shirt. “She talked a lot about you, too. How you saved her. Like you were a modern-day Hercules or something.”

He scoffed, seeming almost diffident. “I was just doing my job. And she saved both herself and me plenty of times. She should give herself more credit.”

“So humble,” you teased, snaking your arm through his, having to strain your neck just to look up at him. “You really are a catch.”   

He rolled his eyes and pulled away from you, “And you think you’re funny.”

“I am funny,” you corrected with a grin, trying not to feel hurt by the way he distanced himself.

He shook his head. “Well, c’mon then, miss comedian. Let’s get a move on.”

The two of you continued your expedition, walking into the nearby church. You raved over the large building and its architecture, awed by the massive stained glass window that painted you, Leon, and Wolfie in a kaleidoscope of light.

Even in this form, you couldn’t deny that Leon looked pretty washed in the rainbow hues. You raked your eyes over him before meeting his gaze and you froze, worried you had been caught ogling him. He turned his head quickly, though, and seemed almost embarrassed. As if he were the one that was caught. 

You realized that he had been staring at you, too, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the thought.   

You moved on to the quarry, finding a massive skeleton that made your jaw drop to the ground. Leon explained that it was called El Gigante, a troll-like monster that he had slain himself. He laughed as he patted Wolfie’s head, adding that the dog had aided in the fight, not to give himself too much credit. 

After getting your fill of the fascinating creature, you eventually pushed forward, reaching the edge of the lake and deciding to sit on the dock together to eat your lunch. You pried your shoes off, dipping your sweaty feet into the water, cringing at how cold it felt against your skin. 

You chatted idly as you ate, Leon feeding pieces of the deli meat you brought to Wolfie as he devoured his own. You smiled at the sight before gazing back out at the lapping waves, the rhythmic sounds of them hitting the dock almost mesmerizing.

“You should take me on the lake at some point,” you mused, pulling your legs up so that your feet could dry out.

“Sure, that can be arranged. It’s nice out on the water. Peaceful.” He pulled your ball cap further over his forehead. “I like to go fishing a lot these days, just so I can sit out there and shut everything out.”

“I’m not one for fishing,” you admitted, knocking your shoulder gently into his. “But the rest sounds great.”

“It’s a date, then.” You both froze at his phrasing and he was quick to amend, “That was a joke.”

You were disappointed to hear him take it back but smiled up at him regardless. “Joke or not, that sounds good to me.” 

You lazed about for a while after that in silence before you pulled your socks and shoes back on, mentioning the fish farm to Leon. He told you about how it was infested with algae and vipers and smelled terrible. You made a face, not exactly keen on wading through stinky snake water, opting to call it a day and head back for his house.

You had just reached the wooded path heading for Leon’s abode when both he and Wolfie stopped dead in their tracks. Not noticing their halted movement, you took a step forward and Leon threw his arm in front of you, barring you from walking any further.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned in a hushed tone, seeing Leon’s severe expression and Wolfie’s raised hackles. 

“Bear,” was all he offered.

You were about to say something when a loud rustle was heard from the tree line just ahead of you. You swallowed as a giant bear sauntered onto the path, uncomfortably close to where you stood.

Looking at the massive creature, it was suddenly apparent what Leon meant when he said you’d been lucky up to this point, never facing a predator beyond a fox or large bird in your investigations. You didn’t realize just how big they were in person. 

Instead of moseying on like you had hoped, it began to walk toward your group. Panic set in when Wolfie growled and snapped his jaw, the bear seeming to take offense, huffing irritably and edging even closer.

“Down, boy,” Leon commanded the dog, who immediately backed away. Leon stepped in front of you slowly, whispering, “Don’t move.”

You nodded at him and he gave one in return before facing the dangerous animal again. He stood to his full height and splayed out his appendages, hoping they would deter it from further approaching. But the damn thing didn’t back off, letting out a roar and lifting itself up on its hind legs, somehow even taller than Leon.

You had heard male brown bears could grow up to eight feet in height and weigh half a ton, though you had never thought about what that meant in real life. It was terrifying. 

Suddenly, you felt something touch your waist. You let out a small gasp as you looked down, finding that Leon’s tail was coiling around you. It tightened and yanked you towards him, and you tried to avoid the sharp barbed end of it as it slid across your middle.  

His tail was forgotten, though, when Leon raised his claws, bared his fangs, and growled. The sound was deep and loud and so inhuman it sent a bolt of fear through your whole body. A fear that even the gargantuan bear before you, ready to maul you to death, didn’t elicit.

The noise had apparently even rattled the predator itself, which took a few steps back and dropped forward onto its front legs once more. Leon growled again, this one quieter and more guttural, but no less frightening.

The bear just huffed before trotting off into the forest.

Leon exhaled in relief, relaxing his position. “We’re good to go if we hurry,” he said without looking at you. 

“Um, Leon? Can’t exactly hurry when I’m trapped like this.”

He turned his head sharply, his red eyes widening when he noticed his tail had completely encircled your torso, squeezing you tightly as the tip flicked precariously close to your face.

“Fuck,” he said, slowly and carefully unfurling the appendage from your body. “I’m so sorry. I—I didn’t even realize I did that. Are you okay? I didn’t catch you with the barb, did I?” 

You let out a breath as soon as you were free. “I’m fine, it didn’t get me.” 

“Good, cos there’s venom in it. Depending on where it stings you and how deep, it might paralyze you for a while.” 

You stared up at him with a horrified expression. “Seriously? How long is ‘a while’?”

“I normally use it when I’m hunting bigger prey, like deer, so I don’t exactly sit around and wait for it to wear off before going for the kill. But I have used it on predators in self-defense, and they were up and at ‘em in about an hour.”

“Have you ever stung yourself by accident?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t work on me. Immune to it, I guess. Still hurt like a bitch, though.”

You eyed his tail warily. “And you really didn’t know you grabbed me with it?”

“I didn’t,” he said, sighing glumly. “Guess it was just… instinctual.”

“Well… thank you. For protecting me, I mean.” You couldn’t deny that the whole ordeal scared you, but you were still grateful. And Leon was still Leon, as far as you could glean.

“Of course, it’s my—” he cut himself off and let out a soft chuckle. “I almost said ‘it’s my job’. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“I suppose if I’ve roped you into showing me around the place, it kind of is your job,” you joked.

He smiled and you finally relaxed, the warmth of it—even despite his sharp teeth—was enough to make you feel safe again.

He cleared his throat awkwardly before looking at the tree line where the bear had disappeared, his tone serious as he said, “We should really head home in case he comes back.”

“Right, of course,” you replied, reaching out to hold onto his arm once more. You were pleased when he allowed it, guiding you to the safety of his house, Wolfie happily trailing behind.

You might have been frightened, but you couldn’t deny the exhilaration that coursed through your veins.

You wondered what the rest of the week would have in store.

+++

Leon awoke much the same way as he had the day before: to the sound of your deep breaths and even heartbeats caressing his ears from across the room.

He didn’t stir, only stared up at the ceiling of his canopy bed, thinking about yesterday’s events. 

It started out as a good day, which he realized he came to expect in your company, but he knew something shifted after the bear incident. 

You spoke to him as if nothing changed, but the way you looked at him—or more accurately, the way you refused to look at him—was distinctly off. He figured you were just rattled by the whole thing, but he had shown you a side to him he hoped he would never have to. The part that was truly monstrous.

And the way he had wrapped his tail around you? How it seemed to move of its own accord? The cursed thing often flicked about without him directly using it, but he believed he generally had full control of the appendage. Apparently not.

That realization alone was enough to concern him, but the fact it involved you mortified him beyond belief. He was shocked you didn’t decide to pack up and leave the moment the two of you returned to the house.

Instead, you made dinner like the night before, and while you cooked, Leon had duct-taped an old towel over the hole in the upstairs window to have something to do and to give you space. 

You had then called him down for the meal, Leon choosing to eat all of what you cooked despite his preference for fresh meat and little else, in part hoping it would come across as some sort of olive branch. You seemed surprised by it but didn’t make a comment like you might normally.

He also caught you staring at his tail, and he had his guesses of what you might be thinking.

He assured you what happened earlier wouldn’t happen again, and you told him it was no big deal and that you weren’t worried. He didn’t believe you, though he had no choice but to let it go and pretend the fact he scared you didn’t make his stomach twist in knots. 

After clearing the table, you mentioned wanting to take a bath, and Leon was quick to start the process of boiling the water for you, telling you to relax and read a book. As a compromise, you began reading aloud more of that ridiculous vampire romance novel you bought for him as a joke. Although the story wasn’t exactly his cup of tea, he was happy to hear your little performance just for him, entertained by the voices you gave each of the characters.

You had just ended a chapter—number four or five, he couldn’t recall—when he finished filling the tub with hot water. You obviously had to wait a few minutes for it to cool down enough to get into, but once you were ready, you ducked into the side room.

Leon, still wanting to talk to you and not knowing what else to do, sat against the wall on the opposite side, Wolfie curling up in his lap as you chatted back and forth. 

He could hear the quiet splashing as you moved and cleaned yourself out of his sight, and started to imagine what you looked like under your clothes. How your soaked hair dripped water onto your shoulders and ran in rivulets down your body; how your wet skin would feel under his hands.

He physically recoiled from his wandering thoughts, smacking the back of his head against the wall and letting out a hiss of pain.

“You okay over there?” you questioned, voice light and teasing, though still concerned for his well-being. 

God, you were too good for him. 

“M’fine,” he grumbled in reply, dropping his face into his hands, urging himself to get a grip.

Eventually, you emerged from the room in your pajamas, wringing your hair out with a towel. As you strolled past him to brush your teeth in the kitchen, he was struck by the aroma of the soap you used.

Lavender and vanilla.

The smell was enough to make his mouth water, trailing after you as if possessed. He loomed over you, wanting nothing more than to bury his face into the crook of your neck and inhale.

You turned to face him quizically after rinsing your mouth, and he took a sharp breath to pull himself out of whatever trance he was in, removing himself from your personal space.

What the hell was wrong with him? 

In all the years it took to get used to what he became, he had never been compelled by anything except hunger. He hated that fact, and it troubled him, but whatever this was? It felt far more dangerous.

At least the hunger was predictable.

The two of you had gone to bed without further incident, but he had tossed and turned for hours after, unable to banish the thoughts of you swirling in his head, especially with your sleeping body mere feet away.

To hear you, to smell you, to practically feel the heat emanating from your skin across the room… it felt like torture. Would he be able to survive several more days of this?

He finally sat up in bed the following morning, feeling restless despite not getting much sleep. He called out your name as he grazed his eyes over you.

You were laying on your side, facing away from him, a mess of hair the only thing he could make out from the pile of blankets you were wrapped up in. 

He called your name again, a bit louder, and you finally stirred, rolling over to look at him with bleary eyes.

“Morning, Leon,” you sighed out, rubbing the sleep from your lashes.

“Mornin’,” was his gruff reply, dragging his fingers through his hair. “You still determined to go exploring today? Even after what happened with the bear?” 

You grinned lazily, turning to face him and propping yourself up on your elbow. “Of course I am. You think a lil run-in with the local wildlife will deter me? Clearly, you haven’t been paying attention.” 

He could argue he’d been paying too much attention, but he’d never say it aloud.

You continued, “Besides, I have a big, strong man to protect me.”

He scoffed, shifting his face away from you so you couldn’t see the blush spreading there. “Oh, yeah? Who’s that?” 

You rolled your eyes before slowly dragging yourself out of bed and sauntering over to him, crossing your arms. “You, silly. Now hurry up and get dressed. We got a big day ahead of us.” 

Before he could protest, you were out the door.

He blew air through his teeth and shook his head, begrudgingly getting to his feet. He looked down at Wolfie, who wagged his tail but didn’t move to leave his cushy dog bed. “Women, am I right?”

He quickly got dressed, cursing the fact he didn’t own a single thing that fit him. He wasn’t sure why he cared, as if a change of clothes would make you interested in a monster.

Your flirtations admittedly affected him, but he wasn’t going to kid himself into thinking you’d ever be attracted to him like this. And for your safety, it would be better if you weren’t. You were strange, sure, but you were still human. Human and fragile, he had to be reminded.

Pulling himself together, determined to keep his distance and stop flirting with you, he made his way down the stairs to face you once more.

As he turned the corner, however, the sight that greeted him made him stop in his tracks.

You had just finished changing, walking out of the side room when you saw him and smiled, doing a little twirl with the outfit you were wearing. “You like it? I bought this shirt just the other day.”

He couldn’t prevent the way his eyes raked over your form, taking in the fashionable boots, tight jeans, and puffy-sleeved baby doll top that sat low and tight across your chest. You had even done your makeup and styled your hair in a high ponytail, front pieces of it dangling to frame your face.

It hadn’t even been five minutes and you were already testing his resolve.

Unfair. 

“Well?” you prodded when he only stood in silence.

He cleared his throat and nodded, trying to act cool. “You look… nice. Not sure how comfortable it’ll be to hike around in all day, but you do you.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing past him and into the kitchen. “I think I’ll be just fine.”

The rest of the morning was spent eating breakfast and setting up for the next trip, though there was a heavy tension Leon was suddenly aware of. It had always been there between the two of you, but it had been a slow, simmering thing. Something manageable.

Now, though? It felt like the pot might overboil.

He had to stop himself from staring at you multiple times, trying desperately to be the gentleman his mother raised him to be. He didn’t want you to think he was a pervert on top of being a literal monster. He had to have some principles to hold on to, after all.  

It’s not like you knew how deeply you were affecting him, anyway. And if he could help it, you never would.

The day’s journey was a bit strenuous, having a lot more ground to cover than the one prior. He decided it was best that Wolfie remain behind, the dog cozied up on his little bed as you were leaving.

Once you exited the house, Leon kept his eyes peeled for that bear again, or any other potential danger, not wanting a repeat of yesterday’s events. Still, he couldn’t help but smile softly at the way you approached every new area with such awe and excitement. It was strange to see someone find such joy in a location he’d deemed his own personal hell. It almost made him appreciate the place, to see it through your eyes. 

Almost.

The two of you visited the farm and the lakeside settlement, returning to the gate of the villa to eat your lunch at the table inside. 

After you finished your meal, you bit your lip the way you always did when you were deep in thought. The action drove him a little crazy, but he ignored it.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

“Do you think we’ll have time to explore the castle today?”

He sat back in his seat to consider it, glancing out the nearby window. “Well, we’re making good time. Still got a few hours of daylight. If you don’t dawdle too much on the way there, we probably could.” 

You beamed at him, an excited squeal leaving your mouth. “Fuck yeah! I’ve never been to real a castle before!”

He couldn’t deny the self-satisfaction he felt at the idea of providing you with so many new experiences. If there was anything he was sure of, it was that you’d never forget your time here, and that would be a good enough turnout for him.

He smiled in return. “Well, let’s get to changing that.”

Leon had been through the area many times over the years, clearing the paths that had been obstructed when he was chased around it a decade ago. It was still a difficult trek, especially for a human, and the two of you had to stop occasionally so that you could catch your breath and drink some water. 

He didn’t mind it one bit, finding himself observing the sun glinting off your sweat-slick skin. Your makeup was holding up surprisingly well, though the loose strands of hair you had pulled from your ponytail were beginning to stick slightly to your face. His eyes drifted to your chest, watching it rise and fall with your every breath.

“Okay, we’re good to keep going,” you told him, thankfully unaware of his gaze, which he quickly turned forward.

Eventually, you made it to the rickety old bridge that led to the burnt-down slaughterhouse. Leon had repaired it as best he could in the early days of his transformation, wanting an easy way to get around the area. He found he could jump over the ravine with his new superhuman abilities, but it was still a precarious leap.

He went to stroll across the wooden planks, held together by rope, when he noticed you hadn’t moved to follow.

He raised a confused brow at you. “Well, c’mon.”

You swallowed as you approached the bridge, nervously stepping onto it. Your knees buckled when you looked down and saw how high up you were. He easily caught you, and you held on tightly to his arm for balance. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he mused. “Little miss thrillseeker is scared of heights?”

“Not… usually. More scared of how rickety this thing is than anything,” you grumbled. 

Your grip on him was bruising, but he didn’t mind. “We crossed another one just earlier and you seemed fine.”

“Well, this one isn’t nearly as sturdy, is it?” you snapped, letting out a shaky exhale as you tried to take another step.

He looked thoughtfully at you for a moment, deciding to take a risk by sweeping you off your feet and holding you up in his arms.

“Leon!” you yelped, wrapping your hands around his neck fearfully. “What the hell?!”

He chuckled lightly as you peeked over your shoulder. “Don’t worry, bunny, I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”

You pivoted to face him with wide eyes, your face reddening. “Aren’t I too heavy for this?” you questioned nervously.

He scoffed. “I could pick up a car, easy. This is nothing.” 

“I more so meant the bridge. Wouldn’t want to break it with both our weights combined, right?”

He shook his head. “Do you trust me?”

You stared at him for a few moments but eventually nodded timidly. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then trust,” he began, taking a step forward, “that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“Okay,” you squeaked, holding onto him tighter. You buried your face into the crook of his neck so you wouldn’t have to see the way the creaking bridge swayed with every movement.

He carefully worked his way across without concern, enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. You were delightfully warm as you pressed against him, and the feeling of your breath sweeping over his throat forced him to suppress a shiver.

Regretfully, he made it to the other side, setting you down on solid ground once more. “See? Not so bad.”

You seemed flustered, likely because of your nerves concerning the old bridge, taking a moment to adjust your clothes and hair that were rumpled slightly by the ordeal. “I guess not.”

The two of you began the brief hike to the castle after that, Leon feeling the absence of your body heat so intensely, it was worrying. Whatever this was between you, it was getting out of hand, and Leon was apparently unable to keep his distance.

He had never been particularly good at saying what he wanted, but that never stopped him from seeking it out as if he were a damn homing missile. His interactions with Ada in the past were proof of that. He would have followed her anywhere if he were able. If she had let him.

He banished thoughts of her from his mind, an easier task after a decade of doing it over and over again. His thoughts of you, however, were a different beast altogether. 

He figured, though—he hoped—that once you left, he’d learn to push away his feelings for you, too. At least he had practice.

He was pulled from his introspection when he heard you practically scream in excitement as you came around the bend in the path, the massive, sprawling castle revealed to you.

“Oh my god! Just look at it! It’s huge! And the structure? Friggin’ impressive!” you gushed as the two of you approached the gate.

He grinned down at you and could almost see the stars in your eyes. “Wait 'til you see the inside.”

Your joy was nearly infectious as you explored the area, dragging him around from place to place and only letting him lead when you needed directions. He didn’t mind it, happy to trail after you as you oohed and aahed at damn near everything you saw.

He watched as you admired the flowers in the courtyard, the blooms unruly due to years of neglect, not yet killed by the autumn chill. Once you had turned your back on the bed of red carnations, he couldn’t fight the urge to pluck one from the dirt.

He strolled up behind you as you cooed over the bluebells, offering it to you when you faced him again. “For you.”

You looked surprised at first, but your expression melted into a sweet smile. “Thank you, Leon.”

Before you could reach out to take it, he bent forward and gently tucked it behind your ear, standing upright to get a full view. “Suits you.” 

You seemed almost bashful for a moment, looking away. Trying to fluster you was rapidly becoming his favorite pastime.

Quickly as it had come, your almost shy demeanor disappeared, a twinkle forming in your eye as you plucked a stem of the bluebells and stuck it into Leon’s back pocket. “There, now we’re even.”

He chuckled at the action, finding your reciprocity charming, and the two of continued your journey onward.

You eventually entered the grand hall, and when you finished appreciating the opulence of the marble walls alone, you began to take in the decor.

“You said you like the artwork in the castle, right?” you questioned, pointing at a large landscape painting in front of you.

Leon nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind putting most of these up at my place.”

“Well… no one’s stopping you,” you goaded, grinning at him slyly. “I think this one would look perfect in the dining room, don’t you agree?”

He laughed, running his hand over the back of his neck as he considered it. “I don’t know, it’d be a hassle to bring them all the way to the house.”

“Sure,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “But don’t you think it’d be worth it to spruce up the place? Make it a bit more… homey? Besides, we could just take them out of the frames and roll them up. Make our own. It could be a fun little DIY project, and it’s not like you aren’t swimming in lumber.”

“Fine, I’m convinced.” He sighed, admitting you had a point. “You’d make a decent car salesman, you know that?”

You scrunched your nose at the thought, helping Leon remove the heavy frame from the wall, although he didn’t need it. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” 

Leon smirked, allowing you to gently pull out the canvas, rolling it up. “Just an observation.”

You clicked your tongue in faux offense, continuing the task at hand. 

The two of you collected six different paintings, which Leon was now stuck with holding for the rest of the trip. It was a nuisance, but at least having something in his grip prevented him from acting on his impulse to reach out and touch you. 

Finally, you came across the library, and he knew you could spend an eternity going through the seemingly endless amount of books that lined the shelves as soon as you entered. You were about to make yourself comfortable and start reading to your heart’s content, but Leon had to remind you of your limited time. 

“But this place is a gold mine!” you told him with a pout, the expression so damn cute, it tested his already crumbling resolve. 

“Look, there’re still places to visit, and you have a few more days. We can always come back if you want,” he proposed.

You sighed exaggeratedly but gave in as he thought you would. “Fine, but you can’t stop me from taking some of these,” you informed him, shoving several books into your bag.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Afterward, he led you into the ballroom, and the way you gazed around in amazement at the sheer size of it made him chuckle. 

“Imagine the parties in this place…” you mused. You dropped your backpack on the ground suddenly, marching to the center of the floor. “You know how to waltz, Leon?”

“Can’t say I do, unless you count slow-dancing at prom. Even then, I’m probably a little rusty.”

“Well, set down those paintings and get over here, mister. I’m gonna teach you how to dance like a prince,” you demanded earnestly.

“Seriously?”

“Please..?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, and despite his reluctance, he found it difficult to say no to you.

He gave out a long-suffering sigh, placing the paintings against the wall and meeting you where you stood. “If I step on your toes, you only have yourself to blame, bunny.”

You smiled up at him. “A risk I’m willing to take.”

Slowly and carefully, you put his hands into their proper positions; one in your own and the other resting against your waist. You coached him on how to move, and he followed your lead at first, stiff and awkward in his motions. Within a few minutes, though, he quickly picked up the rhythm and you allowed him to take charge, giggling as he spun you around the room.

“You’re a natural,” you complimented, rubbing your thumb against his shoulder where your hand was placed. He found himself doing the same to your side and was enthralled with the shiver that ran through your body, proof that maybe he had even the slightest effect on you.

“What can I say—” he started.

“You’re a quick study?” you teased, echoing his earlier words.

“No, actually,” he corrected, pulling you a little closer. “I was going to say, ‘I have a great teacher’.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure you were.”

After a few more blissful minutes, Leon begrudgingly slowed to a halt and released you from his grasp. “Well, we better get a move on. It’s our last stop for today.”

You went to grab your backpack but he prevented you, telling you to leave it as you’d be coming back through, anyway. You nodded, following him to the final destination.

You laughed with pure glee when he brought you into the throne room, immediately bounding towards the massive, gilded seat. You took your time studying it, running your fingers over the intricate carvings along the sides before pressing down on the red cushion to test its comfiness.

“Well, go on. Sit,” he encouraged, crossing his arms over his chest.

You beamed at him before putting your attention back on the chair, turning and gracefully perching on top of it.

“Look at you, practically made to be royalty,” Leon told you as he approached.

He was joking, but there was truth in it. Seeing you sit on the ornate piece of furniture with one leg crossed over the other and your arms draped upon the sides of it was truly a sight to behold. He didn’t know you could appear so regal, even if it was for pretend. 

“Made for it?” You hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Perhaps I just inherited the throne, the only remaining family of the recently deceased king.”

“Mm, and what would that make me, your Highness?” he questioned, tilting his head. He stood before you now, and he would’ve been remiss not to notice the playful gleam in your eye as you raked your gaze over him. 

“You can be my loyal knight,” you told him, nodding your head. “There are those that transpire against me in this very court, sir. I would need someone diligent and strong to watch for my usurpers, after all.” 

“A knight, huh?” Leon mused, coming up beside you and tracing a clawed finger along the back of the chair. “Not the fierce dragon holding the fair maiden hostage while she waits for someone brave or stupid enough to come looking for her?” He kneeled beside you, then, resting his elbows on the arm of the throne, his chin pressed on top of his folded hands. “No one’s managed to get past me yet. Sorry to tell you, princess.”

You shifted in the chair to face him, fingers splayed out on either side of his arms. “Even better… we could be Beauty and the Beast. A lonesome prince cursed to a monstrous form until he finds true love. And, of course, I’m only here to trade my life for my father’s, who had been terribly rude to sneak into your home unannounced. He’s a bit of an eccentric, you must know, but he’s a good man. And I’m eventually charmed by your uncouth mannerisms and prickly personality.” 

“Uncouth and prickly? Ouch,” Leon chuckled. “Well, how does it end, then? Does true love turn me back into a human? That would be nice.”

“If we’re following the original tale, sure. But I have it on high authority that Beauty might have been more disappointed by the transformation than relieved.”

Leon raised his brows at that. “Disappointed the Beast turned back into a prince?” 

“I’m sure she didn’t complain, of course. He was handsome, after all, and still the man she fell in love with, but… Beauty loved the Beast in part due to his monstrous form, not in spite of it.”

“Beauty sounds like a freak,” Leon quipped, though your words made something of a home inside of his chest, curled up and warm. “I bet you think The Little Mermaid should have kept her tail, don’t you?” 

You bit your lip as you mulled it over, and he struggled not to stare at how the soft flesh gave under the pressure of your teeth, his eyes jumping back to meet yours almost guiltily as you finally replied, “Although I think the story would have been infinitely more interesting if she had, there’s something to be said about sacrifice in the name of love. It was a little unfair, though.”

“Unfair?”

“Well, why did she have to sacrifice everything for the prince? She gave up who she was on a fundamental level just to be with him. And what did he give up? He was still a prince. He was still handsome and rich. And then he got a beautiful girl so desperate to be with him, she’d trade her family, her friends, parts of her own body, her voice—just to get a chance with him. Feels a little unbalanced, doesn’t it?”

You were closer now, and he realized you both had shifted toward each other, like gravity itself had a hand in it. His tongue ran along the back of his teeth as he studied you and that smile dimpling your cheeks. 

If it were gravity, you must have been the sun, then.

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” he responded. “What other wise inferences do you have for me, princess?”

You giggled and the sound might be imprinted in his brain forever. “Oh, so many, it’ll make your head spin.” 

“Guess I have a lot to learn,” he replied, grinning. 

“Definitely, but I think the biggest lesson here is that it's all a matter of… perspective.” 

“I can’t believe anyone would want to overthrow you with smarts like that, your Highness. Sounds like you’d be a great ruler.”

“And that’s precisely why they seek to steal my crown, dear sir. An intelligent woman is a dangerous one,” there was a teasing lilt in your voice that made him suck in a harsh breath, your expression so open and light juxtaposed with the intensity of your eyes trained solely on him. 

A silence stretched on between you as you simply stared at each other, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest—could hear your own do the same, though he wouldn’t dare hope it meant what he wanted it to.

You made him feel human.

But then he saw his own reflection in your eyes, and the sight of his sharp teeth was the reminder he needed that he wasn’t human, and he never would be again.

He supposed his curse couldn’t be broken.

And so he pulled away.

“We should get back to the house. It’s a long walk,” he told you, looking at the floor instead of you, afraid he might do something rash if he met your gaze for a moment longer. 

You let out a shaky breath, blinking as if you were pulled from a daze, and stood. “Yeah, right. Of course.”

You grabbed your pack from the floor in the ballroom and he took the rolls of paintings leaning against the wall, the two of you rushing to leave the old castle behind. 

And, with the awkward quiet that settled between you as you journeyed back to his home, both of you unable to meet the other’s eye…

It was a long walk, indeed.

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

Masterlist | Previous | Next

[the-bar-sinister]

Bleeding, Broken, Mended (81315 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 14/16

Summary: Law is certain that he was 'rescued' just so Doflamingo could kill him himself, but Doffy has other plans. As far as he's concerned, Law's decade-long quest for revenge was nothing more than a sad misunderstanding. He wants to remind Law how things used to be. He wants to find a way to bring Law back into the fold-- back to him-- forever.

catch up here

-

They spent the next twenty minutes or so verifying Monet's identity as she pranced about in Baby 5's body. 

But Doffy didn't really need any assurances. It was obvious that it was her, and it was surreal. He held her in his arms and smoothed her hair and told her how glad he was that she was there. How proud he was of her and her unshakable loyalty.

He promised her that they'd get a proper body for her, even if they had to do something like steal one. 

Doffy glanced at the doll that Sugar had been making, and at Law— at Corazon. "Would you be able to put her in something like a doll, temporarily, or does it have to be organic? I'm guessing it does."

The young man nodded. "Yeah, I can't exactly gift it with the magical ability to move on its own or anything. If I try, it'll just— I dunno. Hang there. It won't adhere."

Monet sighed, arm looped around Doflamingo as she leaned against him in Baby 5's body.

Baby 5 jumped up in Sugar's body. "What if you get Sugar to …." she paused for a long moment. "she just called me stupid, nevermind." 

Doffy's nostrils flared with frustration and he sighed. "Alright, we'll find another solution. At least we've got the opportunity to find a solution. Better switch them back for now."

"I dunno, Baby 5's got a real nice body." Monet joked, to Baby 5's quiet shriek of 'no!!'

Corazon smiled wryly "If you can get me a spare body somehow, I can probably manage." 

"There are possibilities," he mused thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "Temporary and otherwise."

There were always marines and other worthless people around who might be used in a pinch. but his mind immediately went back to Punk Hazard, and to Caesar and his experiments. Maybe he'd know something.

"Either way, Doffy…Monet." Law gave her a warm smile. "Glad you're still here. We're gonna fix this."

The woman laughed, before she drifted over and grabbed him in a tight hug. 

"You'd better. You owe me, you bastard." Doflamingo watched as she squeezed him, hearing her murmur, "I knew you didn't really wanna lose us." 

It was a lot. It was a whole lot to deal with. But Doffy was glad to have to, and he was sure that Law was too. And Monet. It would be a complicated situation, but as Trebol would say, thank all that's unholy they did have to deal with it at all. As strange as this was, Monet being gone forever would have been worse. Had been worse.

Still, a few minutes later after they'd been switched back and he'd hauled his Corazon out of the room, he rested his hand exhaustedly over his shoulder as they headed down the corridor.

"You really need to get taller," he murmured.

Corazon snorted, looking up at him incredulously. "Yeah look. I haven't had my second growth spurt yet. Get off my ass." 

"Off your ass? I couldn't reach it unless I bent over, Corazon," Doffy snickered and shook his head. "Thanks for your work back there."

"Anytime, It's one of the things I'm here for, ain't it? Can't make it up to you if I don't use my power for the good of the family, right?" He glanced over his shoulder. "...I'm glad she's still here, somehow." 

"Same," Doffy nodded. He tugged his cabin door open ahead of them with a jerk of threads. "Don't get me wrong there's plenty to question how the fuck that happened, but I'm hesitant to look a gift horse in the mouth."

It had, however, opened his mind to other disturbing possibilities.

"It coulda been anything. Their bond, some fucked up twist of fate. I dunno for sure." Corazon huffed as he came to a stop outside the door. "...inviting me in, Doffy?" 

"Dragging you, in fact," he said, tugging him along with him. "Unless you're going to tell me you have somewhere urgent to be."

"I'm still on your ship ain't I?" He leered petulantly. "Where else could be more urgent than the captain's order?"

Doffy flicked his fingers against the strings, but obediently allowed himself to be half-dragged into the room. 

"You'd have to tell me," he drawled, letting himself drop down into his familiar chair. "I'd hope nothing– but I'd be willing to hear you out."

"Well there's nothing, alright." Corazon looked up at him with his dark and serious eyes set over the half-smile he'd worn a lot when he was younger— in the times he wasn't hissing and growling like something feral, at least. "If you wanna spend time with me, you've got me." 

"Did you forget that's part of Corazon's duties?" he teased, leaning on his hand. It seemed like such a long time ago now, those old days when he'd drag Law off to sit with him and read comics, or listen to music, or just to hear about what he'd been doing.

A part of him had known it was selfish to rely on Law for comfort when he'd been so young. But what had he been supposed to do? With Vergo away, and Rosi—-

Anyway, Law had enjoyed it, too. He was sure of that.

Law's smile softened, and he held up his hands with a long suffering sigh. "I haven't forgotten, Doffy, and I ain't complaining either— I could use a little time. Like the old days." 

"Like the old days," Doffy agreed fondly. "It's been a hell of a day already, eh? Just one more thing, and then you can help me relax."

-

Law was having a weird first day as Corazon. Weird, chaotic, but ultimately good. Monet…Monet was somehow still, well not alive, but present which was a miracle beyond anything he'd ever seen before.

It was obviously her. He'd known the instant she started talking. Whatever strange force had tied her and her sister apart was something beyond even the warped view of science he held with his devil fruit and its 'magic'.

She was here, and he looked forward to helping her become herself again, no matter what it took. One more way to make things up to the Donquixote family, in a big way— and to undo his greatest recent regret.

Now, with that behind them, Doflamingo yanked him into his private quarters, his boudoir. He felt his face flushing once more, frustrating in how excited the idea made him get.

It was just like old times, he told himself. He was there to help Doffy relax. To be a companion. A friend.

It wasn't like it was going to turn into some bodice ripper.

"Another thing, huh?"

"Yeah, just one. I hope to hell it'll be quick." Doffy's face grew briefly serious and he tapped his chest. "Reassure me I'm alone in here."

"...." Law's eyes widened. "you wanna know if Rosi is…lingering in there, Doffy?" 

"The thought occurred to me all of a sudden," he said, darkly. "Never had reason to think it might be anything other than my own… memories. Better safe than sorry, right?"

Law could tell that Doffy was trying to keep his tone light, even cavalier, like it was basically little more than a joke. A precaution. But Law could tell from the set of his jaw it was more than that.

Law knew Doffy well enough to understand the man was genuinely terrified. Afraid that the ghost who'd haunted the last 13 years of his life was more literal than metaphorical.

He nodded seriously, and opened his room enough to get a sense of Doflamingo, reaching out into him with a twist of his fingers.

Only a short time ago, he would have killed— literally killed— for the opportunity to strike while Doflamingo was so defenseless. But that was another man's vengeance . He'd been consumed enough. 

Doflamingo must have felt the same way. He sat there completely unguarded, laying his life in Law's hands, perhaps without even considering how vulnerable he'd made himself.

Law reached into him, feeling the warm presence of Doflamingo's soul inside his chest. "....I don't see anything other than your own spirit, Doffy." 

Doflamingo wasn't heartless after all. He had one— and only one— right in his chest.

Law watched him exhale and close his eyes. "That's that, then. Yeah. Knew he wouldn't have stuck around."

"Yeah, he wasn't exactly the type, was he?" Law laughed weakly as he dropped his 'room'. "It's just you, Doffy. You and your own heart." 

His smile came back, weak at the edges and he touched his chest. "Give it to me straight, doc, how black and withered are we talking?"

Law snorted with a wry smile. "Like a raisin. But a shockingly big raisin, so you got that going for you Doffy." 

"So more like a prune, got it." Doffy giggled and leaned back in his chair. "Thanks for helping me clear the air on that. Would have nagged me a bit."

Again, dismissive, flippant. But Law could tell the idea might have gnawed at him.

It had gnawed at Law too. The moment the idea came up, he felt a sting of fear of his own. What if Rosi was still present? What if he was still around?

What if he judged Law for his sympathy for the man Rosi always called 'the devil himself'. Ghosts— spirits. He'd be a fool if he told himself they weren't real. Not with the way they were so evident and provable in the world around him.

Monet was proof enough. Spirits existed, and they could linger.

Rosi— he'd trusted and believed in him for years, despite the way he'd been treated. Despite the trauma of the doctors.

But Doffy was there for him, too. Then, now…

He grabbed the edge of Doflamingo's coat with a half smile. "Happy to help. It'd nag me too."

Thank all that was unholy that Rosi really wasn't here. 

He found himself suddenly scooped by Doffy's arm as he grabbed his coat, and the larger man pulled him up against his lap, smiling wider in return.

"It's just you and me, now."

Law's face flushed bright red as he fell against Doflamingo's lap. He really was much smaller than him— much smaller than most people in the gang, much to Baby 5's amusement earlier in the day.

And of course it meant Doflamingo could manhandle him while he was already off balance.

Doffy chuckled as he fell against him, grinning, or maybe even leering down at him. "Like we were saying before that diversion. Just like old times."

Law looked up at him, well aware of how flushed and warm he felt against Doffy's body. "...just like old times. Only I'm not a shrimp anymore." 

He made a show— an obvious show— of looking Law over, his grin slicing his face again under his red lenses. 

"Not a shrimp any more, he says. I mean I guess you sit a little bit heavier in my lap than last time we did this. A little."

Law narrowed his eyes up at him. 

"...a little he says. As if I ain't taller than…" Well. A handful of marines. Some of the girls in the crew. Luffy. "People." 

"People," Doffy repeated, his grin more shit-eating than ever. He laughed, his hand still resting on Law's hip where he'd scooped him into position. "I'll give you— you're taller than Derringer."

Law snorted. 

"Yeah, he's the real shrimp here, Doffy. He's even from the ocean." He shifted, his hip rubbing against Doflamingo's hand as he leaned back into his chest. "....this is uh."

Intimate. It was intimate and it was killing him. 

"Yeah?" Doffy grinned down at him. Was he daring him to say something? Or was he just… being Doflamingo? Who was always very physical and thought personal space was something that happened to him, not to other people. "It's what, Corazon?"

Did Doffy still think of him as a kid?

Law realized he had no idea as he shifted against his lap again. "...a bit different than back then, that's all." 

"I guess that's true." Doffy's gaze felt intense on him, despite Law's inability to see his eyes, and despite the inscrutability of his enduring smile. "Should I put you in your own chair?"

Something about the smile and the phrasing reminded him of Dressrosa— Doflamingo had 'put him in a chair' then. He'd chained him to the heart throne.

Law felt his face flushing deeper, and he sputtered for a moment before catching himself. "You fuckin' wo…no! No I'm real comfortable right here, Doffy!"

Doffy laughed and leaned in toward him, bringing their faces together. "Well,that was an enthusiastic answer."

He was close, too close– and his heart was pounding in his chest. Doflamingo. Doffy. His boss, the man who saved him, the man he tried to kill. He was one of the largest figures looming in Law's life…

Why did he have to be so handsome? So fucking magnetic?

"Was it?"

 "Sounded like it to me, Corazon," Doffy purred. He pulled him suddenly even closer and Law found himself half engulfed in the ridiculous feathered coat that was always around the man's shoulders. "Tell me for real— did you ever miss me? Even when you were trying to kill me?"

One of the feathers tickled his cheek as he reached out to place his hand on Doflamingo's chest— at first to push away, but he found his hand lingering as he looked up at him.

He had missed him. There was always a traitorous part of him that missed him.

 "That's why I knew I had to finish it quick, Doffy…yeah. There was a part of me that always missed you." 

"Knew it," he chuckled. Doffy's hand shifted on his body, large and warm, moving up over his side as he looked down at him. His chest was warm under Law's fingers. "You know it was a hell of a shock to see you in the papers two years ago. Not just to know you were alive. I was still picturing you as a kid."

Law's fingers curled against his chest as he laughed. "That must have been a shock alright. You haven't changed a day, except maybe getting more 'i've decided to dress more like every day's a vacation day'."

He'd pictured him as a kid, huh? Did that mean that view on him had changed now?

Doffy chuckled again. "Well I mean every day was pretty much a vacation in Dressrosa, Law. You missed the nice weather. But also— my hair's shorter. You, though, you changed a hell of a lot more."

Law half knelt, raising himself up to run his hand through Doflamingo's hair with some effort. 

"...so it is." he smirked, looking into his eyes. "damn right i have…in a lot of ways. What'd you think when you saw me, huh?" 

Doffy's smile hitched into a smirk as he leaned ever closer to him. "First thought? Kid grew up into a pretty handsome bastard. Second thought? Damn, that's a lot of tattoos."

"...yeah well, maybe I found out I liked tattoos, huh?" 

Handsome bastard…

It was basically the same thought Law had had about Doffy for years, even as he pushed it down and out of mind.

He huffed. "Careful calling a guy 'a handsome bastard' while he's sitting on your lap, Doffy." 

"Careful, hmmm? Warning me to be careful implies there might be a result I won't like, Corazon." Doffy's tongue showed slightly between his teeth as he gave him a teasing look. He paused and his grin hitched wider. "So what are you trying to warn me about?"

Law felt his face flushing deeper. 

"You might make him think that you absolutely don't just see him as some fucking shrimp kid anymore." 

Doffy laughed and his hand rode higher, almost up to Law's chest. "Oh is that what you're thinking about? Doffy lets kids run around with guns and swords and booze and cigarettes. Even though he made me Corazon he probably still thinks I'm a kid. Is that what you're thinking?"

The feeling of his fingers trailing up his body was like a thousand little sparks of anticipation crawling through his skin. He grit his teeth, looking down instead of into his staring eyes. "...the thought mighta crossed my mind, yeah." 

"Well then," he purred. Law could feel his breath on his face, and the sweet smell of his oiled coat surrounded him. Doffy reached up and put his fingers on his jaw, the sharp moons of his nails sending another prickling sensation. "How about I clear that up?"

A heartbeat passed, as Doffy seemingly waited for his answer, or his rejection.

Law's head was spinning. From a decade of resentment and deliberate, desperate hate, to finding himself back in Doffy's company, to becoming part of the family again, to becoming Corazon— all the way here.

Here on Doflamingo's lap being asked to take the forbidden step forward and more under the man's power.

He swallowed thickly, nodding his head once. 

Doflamingo didn't wait for anything more than that, and he didn't say a word. He jerked Law close and he kissed him— rough and hard and immediate, sucking at his lips and pressing his tongue to invade his mouth.

It was overwhelming. He was surrounded by him. His kiss, his body, his scent.

Law pressed into him, enveloped in the garish pink feathers of his coat, smelling the oil and the smell of booze thick in his nose as he leaned up into the man's kiss. His tongue met Doffy's, brushing against it as a thrill rolled through his body.

Even more than accepting Corazon, Law knew this was a moment of surrender. 

This was everything he had fought and steeled himself against for thirteen years, dissolving in an instant as he let Doflamingo kiss him and hold him in his lap. Thank all that was unholy that they were alone, because if the ghost of Rosi had been there, there would have been a great wailing and gnashing of teeth.

But they were alone, and he was in Doffy's arms.

His tongue lingered on Law's lips for a moment, and then he licked his own, as if he were satisfied with a meal.

"Does that clear up my feelings on the matter?" he purred, his sharp face still hanging near Law's like an overbearing moon in orbit.

Law looked up at him, catching his breath with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "Maybe. Might need more convincing, actually." 

Doffy laughed, tilting his head back as he did. "More convincing! Dia's right, you are a greedy little bastard! But I'm happy to convince you, if that's what you want."

He slid his thumb over the sharp curve of Law's jaw as he smiled— no, leered— down at him.

Law arched his hand against his thumb, his breath feeling hot as he met his eyes again. "Greedy, huh?" he scoffed before he shifted to press his hand firmly against Doffy's chest, at the opening of his shirt. "Whatever. Convince me, Doffy. I'm your Corazon, ain't I?" 

-

"I'm your Corazon, ain't I?" 

The words sent a shiver of absolute delight down Doflamingo's spine, the taste of Law's lips lingering in his mouth.

His Corazon. His. Law wanted to be his. Law was his. Law had always been his, he had just been stolen from him, cruelly, more than thirteen years ago. Now he finally had him back, without so much as a ghost hovering over their reunion.

And now Law was begging him to kiss him. To hold him. To make him truly his. The little grouchy bastard might say he 'needed more convincing' but what Doffy heard was 'please kiss me, Doffy. Kiss me until I can't think of anything else. Kiss me until I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is where I belong'.

And Doffy shuddered with delight to hear it. With delight that Law wanted him. Beautiful, handsome, mean, wicked grown-up little Law wanted to be kissed and held and loved like the man that he had become. 

Doflamingo's man.

And Doffy was ecstatic to give him exactly what he wanted. 

It was exactly what Doffy had always wanted. 

The first time Doffy had seen Law, shaking with rage and full of hateful determination, he had seen the man that he might become. A man with a heart just like his own heart. And he had been determined not to let anything stop him from seeing Law become that man. Not even a terminal disease would stand in his way; nothing would stop him from seeing Law, a child who was so like himself, flourish and grow the way that Doflamingo had. He wanted to see the man that Law became, and for him to become his man. His Corazon.

And here he was. Beautiful, and strong, and angry, and mean, and wanting Doffy to kiss him.

Maybe everything that had come between them for so long had been worth that.

"You're my Corazon," Doffy promised, rubbing the curve of his thumbnail over Law's sharp, handsome jaw. "You're not a kid any more, you're my Corazon, and I will prove it to you as much as you demand, you handsome little bastard."

He pulled Law suddenly and sharply close to him with his threads and thrust his tongue back between his lips, savoring the way it filled Law's mouth and heaved against Law's tongue.

Law was Doflamingo's Corazon.There was no question of that any more. He had left a child and come back as a man, and now he was right where he belonged.

And Doffy was never going to let him leave again.

-

Doffy made good on his promise, kissing Law over and over again, his threads tugging him closer, trapping him against his broad, warm chest like a fly traps a spider.

The threads held him tight, as strong as they ever were— as strong as they were back in Dressrosa but not at all as sharp. Law's head was spinning as he caught his breath between kisses, his face burning red as he pressed against Doflamingo.

He'd proven it, alright. He'd convinced Law, utterly and completely. He didn't just see him as some reckless, insane kid anymore. The thrill and glow of excitement that simple fact brought him was almost embarrassing.

Almost. 

Eventually, after what seemed like an age of the world, Doflamingo let him catch his breath, still dizzy and warm on his lap. With a manicured nail Doffy traced the shape of a heart over Law's chest.

"I'll go on and keep convincing you," he purred teasingly. "But give me an update, Corazon. oOw are you enjoying the position?"

Law took several deep breaths, feeling the nail lightly pressing against his chest as he craned his neck to look up at him with a thin smile. "I'm sure you will, Doffy. But…I think I'm likin' it a lot. I slipped right into it, you know? That was exactly what I was afraid of back then." 

Doffy's smile grew teeth, and he chuckled, rubbing his thumb up and down Law's chest. "I'll just bet it was. I wish I had guessed— I would have had a more convincing argument for you back when I had you chained to the heart throne." He dragged his tongue suggestively over the points of his teeth.

Law's heart skipped a beat, and his eyes went wide despite his attempt to compose himself. The thought flashed unbidden through his mind of himself chained to the throne of Corazon, as Doflamingo convinced him with his hands on his….

He shut the thought down as his flush deepened and a hot tension grew below. "Y-yeah I bet you woulda, Doffy." 

Doffy giggled and grabbed a lock of Law's hair, tugging at it under his cap. "Like in a bad novel, like you said at dinner the other night."

Law glanced off to the side. Just like one of those bad novels. 'Seduced by the Pirate Prince' or some bullshit like that. A bodice-ripping tale of corruption and seduction.

He squirmed on Doflamingo's lap. "...you remembered that, did you?" 

Doffy shifted under him in return, and Law got the feeling that the whole scene was a bit exciting for him. He chuckled richly. "It stood out, Law."

Law's hips rested firmly against him, feeling that excitement all too well as he shrugged his shoulders. 

"Can you blame me? You invited me to dinner…in a seastone cuff…after saving me from the ocean despite us being recent enemies. That's a saucy novel plot, not real life." 

"Well, we had a little more lead up than that," he chuckled. "But I seem to have a knack for—"

They were interrupted suddenly by a sharp knock on the door, and Law felt Doffy tense under him, his displeasure written on his face.

Law tensed against him, his fingers digging into his coat as he whipped around with a sharp grimace. Of course. Of course someone came now to interrupt. Right when Doflamingo was getting excited.

Despite Doflamingo's obvious annoyance, Law didn't have the chance to move anywhere before he yanked the door open with his threads.

"Come in," he grumbled.

Vergo was at the door, and Law caught sight of Bepo behind him.

"....." Vergo pushed up his sunglasses. "Hey boss." He spoke as if it were the most normal thing in the world to see Law cuddled up on Doflamingo's lap. Like he'd forgotten that it'd be weird. Knowing him…he probably did.

"Got a minute?" 

Bepo on the other hand, had put his paw against his muzzle, turning to look away a little.

"A minute at least," Doffy sighed heavily. "If it's something important I've got significantly more than that."

Law turned a deeper red, trying to wriggle off Doflamingo's lap before he imploded in a sea of self-consciousness. It didn't work, so he kept his eyes averted towards the ceiling instead of at Bepo's embarrassment.

Vergo chuckled. "I mean…it's pretty important. We've got an island in the way. One of the weird ones that the pose didn't pick up from the looks of it. It's directly in our path. Had Vi take a look and she tells me it's completely surrounded by navy ships. We're around 12 hours or so away from it, weather permitting. Wanna know if you wanna take a detour. You know. For those marine heads." 

Doffy's expression turned from sour to intrigued, and he ran his finger down Law's chest, despite his poor attempt to wriggle away. 

"Well now. Marines, eh? I know everyone's been itching to bust a few heads. Let's head for it. Have Vi get together a full write up of the situation and if it turns out it's gonna be a pain in the ass we'll avoid it instead."

"A bunch of navy bastards on an island huh?" Law murmured as the prickling sensation of his touch rolled through him. "Should make for some fun exercise."

Vergo saluted Doflamingo with a thin smile. "You got it, Doffy. I'll ask Vi to get on it. Should have the full write up when you're done having fun with Corazon."

Law sputtered indignantly, staring at him with wide eyes "We ain't…Shut up!" 

That got a laugh out of Doflamingo, who grinned wickedly. "Sounds perfect. Thank you both." Law watched as Doffy's gaze snapped to Bepo. "Don't worry, Beps, you'll get him back mostly intact."

Bepo made a choked noise and shielded his gaze again, nodding.

Law buried his face against Doflamingo's coat. "I'm never gonna live this down."

Vergo chuckled before patting Bepo on the shoulder. "Don't worry buddy, you'll get used to the way things are around here soon enough. Come on. Let's go report to Vi." 

"R-Right. Uh, later, Captain. Corazon." 

Law heard Doflamingo chuckle again, still buried against his chest as the door clicked closed. "Whoops."

"Whatta ya mean, 'whoops!'?" Law growled against his chest. "You coulda let me up to save face!" 

Doffy tugged him closer, his threads still wrapped around him. "Oh, like you wouldn't have been just as embarrassed and twice as awkward to be leaping up from my lap. Really, I just saved us both a couple of dumb conversations."

Law looked up at him, huffing sharply. In a way he wasn't wrong. It made things simpler. Now Vergo and Bepo had seen the two of them practically fucking with their clothes on. Made it pretty damn clear where things stood without the need for a long and drawn out awkward conversation.

He brushed his fingers through his coat with a narrowing of his eyes. "It's because you're embarrassing, Doffy." 

Doffy laughed, and put two fingers under Law's chin, tilting it upward. "You know you're one of the few people who'd actually dare to say that to me."

Law's neck craned, his lips lightly parted as he looked up at Doflamingo as he took him in. Striking, charismatic… handsome. Doflamingo was a man who drew people into his 'pace', just as he'd warned Luffy.

It never took long, it never took much for people to start dancing along to the beat of his drum, dangling from the strings of his fingers. It wasn't a surprise that most of the crew wouldn't dare to call him embarrassing. They all loved him to the point of near worship.

Maybe Law did too, in a way that came off vastly different.

He smirked at him. "You like it, I know you do." 

"I love it," Doflamingo snickered. "You sassy little bastard. Maybe I am a little embarrassing— but I think you like that."

Law flushed deeply "oh yeah? You gotta prove it. I ain't admitting shit, Doffy." 

"You want me to prove it?" Doffy's smile almost became a sneer, and he suddenly put his hand right on the crotch of Law's pants. "You don't seem any less excited than before the door opened."

Law felt Doflamingo's fingers grab him, stiff, through the layers of fabric, his body squirming under the touch as he wound his fingers into his coat's feathers. "...you've got a point there."

Yeah, it was true. He wasn't any less excited. He was uncomfortably excited through the whole interaction and all the way till now. Doffy had an effect on him. An intense one that washed over him like the sea's waves. 

"I do," Doffy purred, leaning down toward him again. "So I think I'm right when I say you don't mind me being a little embarrassing."

His hand lingered where he left it, without any indication he'd be moving it any time soon.

Law shifted his hand, brushing it down Doflamingo's chest with a snort of breath. "If there's anything the last two years have taught me, it's that I've got a horribly embarrassing taste in men." 

"Oh well color me fascinated on that little tidbit," Doffy purred. His other hand rested on Law's chest now, and he was face to face with him again, the sharp tip of his nose brushing Law's. "You can tell me all about it. But later. Maybe after Vi's report."

Should have the full write up when you're done having fun with Corazon. That was what Vergo had said.

Law could feel his breath on his face, the brush of his skin against the tip of his nose as his body pressed tight to the other man's— bound and commanded by Doflamingo Donquixote. 'Having fun with Corazon'. He could see exactly where this was going to lead, their first consummation of their reforged connection.

"Gonna fuck me then? Is that it? Fuck me, go to a meeting, hear about my love life?" he huffed softly. 

Doffy's sharp tongue poked out and licked Law's lower lip. 

"I could," he said, the weight of his hand heavy on his chest and between his legs. "Or maybe I should make you wait. Have a drink while you go get an update from officer Bepo. Get busy with some paperwork. Drag you back to my room in oh say… a day or three."

Law could see himself reflected double in Doffy's blood colored lenses.

He flushed deeply, looking at his own scowling face reflected back at him as he pressed firmly against Doflamingo with a sharp huff of breath, his fingers snatching down between his own legs to brush Doffy's crotch with his fingers.

"You'd wanna make us wait that long?" 

Doffy was just as hard as Law was— just as excited. It was impossible not to feel it. It was impossible not to think about it.

But he just smirked at him, and his fingers stroked up over Law's jaw and neck. 

"I'm a surprisingly patient man, Corazon. I've waited this long. I could keep waiting."

Law brushed his fingers against his crotch with a frown, feeling his body heating up as he pressed closer to him. "....what if I don't wanna wait, huh?"

Everyone always called him reckless, impulsive, dangerously so— maybe they were right. Maybe it really was, the way his body clamored for him to jump right into an amorous tangle with Doflamingo. It was a way to reaffirm his decision, to get a taste of what his quest for vengeance took from him…

It was hot. 

Doffy laughed at him again, cupping his face. "Tell me you don't want to wait, Corazon. Tell me what you want from me."

He froze, nuzzling his cheek against Doflamingo's hand with a soft hiss of breath. 

"...I…I want…" he leaned closer, huffing sharply. "I want you to fuck me, Doffy. Okay?"

He spat it out, too flustered to do so delicately. 

Doffy's chuckle sent a thrill down Law's spine as his thumb tickled his jaw. "Oh, with pleasure, Corazon. With pleasure."

Doflamingo's strings drew him tightly to his chest, making it feel, once again, like he was under his power as he pressed a rough, deep kiss on him.

Law grabbed his coat with his hands, using it as well as the strings to press himself close as their lips collided. It was a rough, passionate kiss full of desire and expectation.

He'd accepted Doffy's help. He'd joined the crew again as Corazon. He'd already fallen back into their clutches— so why not fling himself directly into the flames of passion? If he was going to be a Donquixote again, then by all that was unholy, he was going to go all the way. 

[i-heart-hxh]

Hello again! In your opinion, how much more of the manga would need to be completed for a new anime to be produced picking up from the 2011 anime? Not until HxH officially ends? Or do you think the odds are if they ever do produce another show, they reboot it again from the beginning? Has there ever been any rumblings in the Japanese media about wanting to reboot/continue the anime? Thanks for taking the time to answer all these questions!

Hello!

At the very bare minimum, I think the current arc would have to end in order for there to be any consideration of the anime continuing. It simply wouldn't make sense to start adapting an unfinished arc with no fulfilling place to leave off, especially with how unpredictable Togashi's pace is with releasing new chapters.

With Togashi's pace in mind and the uncertainty about how much more of the series remains, I do think there's a chance they would consider adapting the next arc, if it leaves off with a reasonable stopping place.

I'm sure the Madhouse (2011 anime) team would be happy to continue the series if they have the opportunity; with how enduringly popular Hunter x Hunter is, it's guaranteed to be a success, and the 2011 team seems to absolutely adore the series so I'm sure they'd jump at the chance to continue working on it. It's just a matter of actually having at least an arc completed to work with, which the manga in its current state can't provide.

I think a reboot of the series any time in the near future is highly, highly unlikely. The 2011 anime licensing seems to be quite active, there are still events related to the 2011 anime happening and lots and lots of merchandise being released. With that in mind, another studio obtaining permission and licensing to re-adapt it within the next decade is probably nearly impossible and wouldn't make much sense, especially with how extensive the series is up until this point and how much already got adapted in the 2011 anime. Making a long series, even a popular one, is a huge investment, and having a pretty well-done and satisfying one done recently enough that people are still watching it and merchandising is still active means it would be highly unusual and strange for a reboot to happen so soon.

(I actually think the odds of a Yu Yu Hakusho anime reboot are pretty high within the next ~5-10 years, with the current popularity of re-adapting older series and the age of YYH's anime.)

I wouldn't entirely rule out HxH getting a reboot someday, though I think a continuation is more likely, but it depends on a lot of factors (like what happens with the manga and Togashi and whether an anime continuation happens or not) and a reboot would likely have to be quite a few years down the line. 15-20+ years from now, maybe...?

In short, the situation with the anime continuing is very complicated right now. If you hear anyone spreading news about the anime starting back up again, there's like a 99.99% chance it's fake. There's always the chance something unconventional will happen, like Togashi working directly with an anime crew to continue the series, but I wouldn't count on something unusual like that happening. There's also some small possibility of things like new original anime movies, but TBH without Togashi's heavy input, I'd have mixed feelings on seeing more of those.

All we can do for now is continue to be patient with the manga coming out and hope that someday it'll reach a point where more can be adapted. I would love to see the anime continued someday or even rebooted, but my first priority is seeing what happens with the manga.

Thanks for asking!

[arc-misadventures]

Is Ozpin's surprised by Dwarf Jaune making his own kingdom or is this normal Arc behaviour in they are all born to lead

The Cost of a Crown

Ironwood: Ozpin, we have a situation!

James Ironwood burst into, Ozpin’s office to be met with piles of paper strewed all about his office. Bag, cups, and mugs of coffee were laying about amongst them. And, at a desk covered by both coffee, and paper, a pile of spent pens lay about it. All the while a mad man signed his name again, and again on one piece of paper after the other.

Ironwood: Ozpin?

Ozpin: Leave the papers on the desk… I’ll sign them when I get to them…

Ozpin pay no attention to who was in the room, and just focused on signing whatever was before him.

Ironwood: Ozpin!

James grabbed, Ozpin by the shoulders, shaking him out of his paper signing trance.

Ozpin: Huw…? Oh, Hi, James! H-How is it going…?

Ironwood: Not good, but no where near as bad as you. You look like hell; what happened here? You’re signing blank pieces of paper?

Ozpin: What…? Oh gods I am… Ugh… The hell am I doing…?

Ironwood: W-What’s going on, Ozpin?

Ozpin: Arc… Arc, happened…

Ironwood: Arc? As in, Jaune Arc? The King of the Kingdom Lunaris?

Ozpin: Yes, that short little toadstool of a Huntsman! I sent him on a mission along with his team, and another team to protect a small village, and the dust mine on the outskirts of the village. It was a simple routine mission, perfect for a bunch of first years. But, we received no reports from them in days! Fearing the worst I sent, Glynda along with a third year team to go find them. The third year team returned a day letter with this?!

Ozpin then forced an envelope into, James hand as he broke down on his desk. As he held his head in his hands as he silently plead with the gods that be at what he could have possibly done to deserve this. This time.

James stared at his friend for a moment before deciding he best read the letter contained within.

Ironwood: “Dear Ozpin, I am writing this letter to inform you that as of now, I am tending in my resignation as Deputy Headmistress, and Combat Instructor effectively immediately…” Wait, this is, Glynda’s hand writing?! Did, Glynda quit?! W-Why would she do that?!

Ozpin: Keep reading…

Ironwood: “I have taken up the position as the new, Headmistress of the Lunaris Hunter Academy?!” They have a Hunter Academy now?!

Ozpin: Yep… I lost a third of my students to them in three days… I heard, Mantle’s been having similar problems as well…

Ironwood: “I accept this position as the first Headmistress of the Lunaris Hunter Academy at the behest of, Jaune Arc the Engraver, King of Lunaris.” The Engraver, what kind of nickname is that?

Ozpin: I believe it’s more of a title, at least that’s what, Oobaleck thinks. Probably something to do with him engraving the history, the rise of, something to do with him building his damn kingdom…

Ironwood: “As such I will be leaving my position at, Beacon for green pastures as they say.” So she quit for a better job opportunity? That doesn’t seem like something, Glynda would do.

Ozpin: It isn’t… But, the next part will also explain why she’s quitting…

Ironwood: This better be good then… “I will also be becoming his Highness Jaune Arc’s first bride, and become the High Queen of Lunaris?!” She’s getting married to that, Arc bastard?! How the hell did this happen?! She’s at least a decade older than him!

Ozpin: Glynda has had a thing for, Mr. Arc since he first arrived here. Apparently it was because of the power, and persona his small stature seemingly emanated from him. As well as his noble, and courteous gentleman like behaviour that she found quite attractive. At least that’s what, Port said…

Ironwood: “I will send you official wedding invitations as soon as the wedding date has been set in stone.” Please tell me that’s not some sort of joke.

Ozpin: Best not to think about it…

Ironwood: “Sincerely, Glynda Goodwitch. Headmistress of the Hunter Academy of Lunaris.” T-The hell is all of this?!

Ozpin: Hell itself my friend! As soon as I received that letter I’ve been trapped here at my desk for days. Signing, and filling out document, after document! I curse, Arc for doing this to me! If I had know this was going to happen, I would have never sent him away that day! But, here we fucking are! Up a sewer line, without a boat!

Ironwood: You didn’t expect this to happen?

Ozpin: Who the hell would expect this to happen? That short little stunted dwarf goes for a routine mission, next thing I know, in a matter of weeks he’s built a kingdom that rivals, Atlas, both in its economy, and military power!

Ironwood: He’s what?!

Ozpin: Y-You didn’t know? Oh… You’re going to be in for a rude awakening…

Ironwood: What are you…?! Hold on, I’m getting a scroll call.

Ozpin: This should be good…

As, Ozpin drank from his mug, he watched intently as, James pulled out his scroll, and answered a call he would have never expected before this day.

Ironwood: Specialist Clover, what is it?

Clover: Sir, I need to deliver a report on our trip to the, Kingdom of Lunaris.

Ironwood: Already, what happened?

Clover: We were attacked as soon as we reach the cities gate by the, Lunarians. They overwhelmed us in minutes, taking us as hostage, and brought us before the, King.

Ironwood: How is that possible? They should barely have a mock militia, how could they beat of team of highly trained, Hunters?

Clover: Those reports are outdated, Sir. They have a military force on par with us.

Ironwood: How is that possible?

Clover: Unknown, Sir.

Ironwood: I take it we won’t be getting access to their, Dust supplies then?

Clover: Not likely, Sir; They have a strong anti-Atlas, and anti-SDC bias amongst the people here.

Ironwood: Haa… The, Atlas council is going to love this. I’m going to be having, Jacques Schnee screaming down my neck for this.

Clover: Speaking of the, Schnee’s, Sir. We’ve had some… interesting developments.

Ironwood: What kind of developments?

Clover: Well, the King of Lunaris has made several threats to, and about the SDC. And, is witnessed to have said, and I quote: ‘I’ll take, Jacques wife, and show him how a real man fucks.’ End quote.

Ironwood: Well, Specialist Schnee must have loved hearing that.

Clover: Yeah… Uhhh… Sir, Specialist Schnee… has resigned her commission with the Atlasian Military…

Ironwood: SHE WHAT?!

Clover: Apparently as soon as she saw, King Arc, and his glorious beard… She dropped to her knees, and pledged her life to him. Hoping to improve relations between, Atlas, Mantle, and the SDC. Specialist Ederne has also resigned for similar reasons.

Ozpin: The, Arc charm strikes again…

Ironwood: You’ve got to be kidding me! I lost two, Specialists just because they looked at a man?!

Clover: And, his most glorious beard…

Ironwood: Haaaa… Is there anything that can be done to bring them back?

Clover: Not unless you convince her to leave yourself, Sir. There isn’t anything else I think we can do, Sir.

Ironwood: Understood, Specialist. Take what’s left of your team, and return to, Atlas. You’ll be debrief further on your return.

Clover: Very well, Sir.

James soon ended the call as he cusped his head in his hands, tiredly groaning as he took in all of this new information.

Ozpin: So… What are you going to do now?

Ironwood: …

Ironwood: Get drunk?

Ozpin: Good idea.

[atlas-plugged]

When I was applying to colleges and scholarships, one of the most well-publicized scholarship competitions was the Ayn Rand Foundation's essay competitions. "Write a short essay about a 100-page book?" I thought. "What an easy scholarship application!" And that's how I read Anthem for the first and only time and let me tell you when you weren't raised by libertarians that stuff makes SIGNIFICANTLY less sense. Looking forward to learning about it from someone who understands the philosophy.

Anthem was the first Rand I ever read and honestly I loved it. It was assigned as a reading for my freshman lit class when I was 14 and it slotted in neatly beside a lot of the other dystopic fiction that gets handed to young teens. It was more mature than The Giver, longer than "Harrison Burgeron," and invited the reader into the characters' headspaces in a way that I didn't really get from Fahrenheit 451.

Anthem and "Harrison Burgeron" were part of a unit for that class and looking back, I can't help but wonder if that unit was specifically constructed to get freshman honors English students to start thinking about intellectual elitism.

Again, look, I was kind of a little asshole. I was a kid without a hell of a lot of social skills who was both learning disabled and advanced; I had tested out of several grades (which, thankfully, the district would not advance me through) and was extremely violently bullied for years by the students who had been told "Why can't you be like Alli?" by our teachers (and, not that there's an excuse for bullying, I was a shit about the fact that I was a better student than my classmates)* so "Harrison Burgeron" *resonated.* The idea of an unshackled human as a threat to the society that wanted to drag everyone down to the lowest common denominator was like *catnip* to me. I transcribed that story in a journal by hand.

Then Anthem followed, and Anthem builds on those same themes. It is about a person whose strengths are suppressed by his society, who is punished for his individuality, who has had his choices taken away from him, and who breaks away from all of that to try to build a better world.

I think that Anthem actually makes a lot of sense to a lot of teenagers, and that's part of why the Ayn Rand Institute has a free books for teachers program and has run that scholarship contest for decades. They very much want as many edgy teens to get into Rand as early as possible. I know that if I hadn't read (and loved) Anthem so long that I probably wouldn't have been as interested in Atlas Shrugged as I was when I finally got around to it.

They do scholarships about The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged too. I've helped marxist friends write their papers for the ARI, which I think resulted in at least one scholarship.

(If you have the opportunity to take these people for their money, do it. Fuck them. I give 5:1 odds that you're a better writer and thinker than the majority of people submitting essays, so do it, go for it, take their money and use it to pay for a degree that is absolutely flooded with the kinds of critical theory that they would loathe.)

In another post I discussed the woundedness of Rand's ideology. You see this a lot with a lot of the right, actually - it manifests in the idea that you want a better world for everyone except for the people who hurt you.

This is very visible in Atlas Shrugged, which is half power fantasy, half revenge story. It is not enough that the heroes must win, but that their enemies must suffer.

The idea that those who have done you harm are beyond redemption, beyond saving, and could never have a place in your perfect world is a very adolescent idea and part of why I think Rand's work does resonate so much with edgy teens. Edgy teens often think of themselves as apart from and othered by society, and they don't want to meaningfully contribute to a society that injured them.

But you've got to grow up sometime. "I struggled and suffered, so the next person should struggle and suffer" or "you made me struggle and suffer, so I won't improve things for anyone if improving things might help you" is spiteful and petty, and something that makes sense for cynical teenagers but that is ridiculous and immature when you see adults pulling that shit.

So I understand the kids who went "cool dystopia!" and maybe internalized a story about chosen ones. I understand adults who found that appealing and read further and sat in that space for a while. What I don't understand is adults who make denying assistance to others a part of their worldview under the assumption that providing assistance to anyone is hampering individuals from reaching their full potential.

-

-

*In some ways I feel like I got set up for failure by a lot of adults. I switched districts in the 3rd grade, when I was already nearly a year younger than almost everyone in my class (I turned 8 two days before school started) and the district wouldn't allow me to advance to the 6th grade based on my testing (thank fuck) or put me in GATE classes (whatever) but whatever chance I had of being a "normal" kid got shattered when my 3rd grade teacher had me teach the rest of the class our multiplication tables and assigned me the job of doing half an hour of reading aloud to the class for a couple days each week while she caught up on grading. I was not the teacher's pet so much as I was the weird 8-year-old reading Moby Dick at recess and having trouble maintaining friendships because of emotional dysregulation. Being a smart kid with essentially no friends who was *horribly, violently bullied in ways that led to lasting injuries* probably wasn't the only reason that I liked Anthem but it was very much why I was drawn to chosen-one-under-attack-by-society-must-save-the-day narratives.

Anyway in case it wasn't clear I'm obviously still wrestling with a lot of this stuff and this blog is likely to be just as much trauma dumping as it is talking about Ayn Rand's Bad Book.

[ngkiscool]

I can boogie, boogie woogie all night long

For FFF203 Yes Sir!! @flashfictionfridayofficial (Title from Yes Sir by Baccara)

Crowley heard the music even from outside the bookshop and flinched. Aziraphale was slacking, a thought crossed his mind, usually he sound proofed the bookshop as in not to disturb his neighbours.

He entered the back room, but the angel hadn't noticed him and continued to move in mysterious ways. He strained his voice to be heard above the loud music, and shouted: "Aziraphale, what on earth are you doing?"

"Do come in, dear." Aziraphale snapped his fingers and lowered the music into something more tolerable, allowing Crowley to focus on more than his growing headache. "Would you like some wine?"

Now that Crowley could concentrate, he noticed a few changes in the bookshop, The first thing was the angel's wardrobe. Instead of his usual clothes, Aziraphale wore red trousers, an eye-watering tie-dye shirt, and… Was that a crown of flowers in his hair?

Next, his eyes fell on a giant disco ball, which was hung low from the ceiling and reflected every move. Combined with Aziraphale's colourful clothes, the result was… interesting.

"What were you doing? You looked like you were trying to catch a fly, waving your hands like that."

"Well," Aziraphale blushed, "I was dancing."

Crowley finished his wine and, wordlessly, topped his cup generously. It hadn't helped to clarify the scene he saw, but at least he was less sober now.

"I thought angels don't dance."

"Angels don't know how to dance, that doesn't mean we can't."

That was technically true, but hadn't helped to clarify the situation. Crowley decided to try another approach. "But why? Hadn't thought you liked it."

"As a matter of fact, I do love dancing. So far, my opportunities to practice it were limited, so I decided to create my own."

"Limited opportunities? What are you talking about? You can go anywhere you want. Probably better not like this," added Crowley as an afterthought, "that fashion went out of style decades ago."

"That's exactly the point," answered Aziraphale. "I wanted to be in a place where nobody will make comments about the way I dance, or how I dress, or," he shuddered, "try to talk with me."

The demon stared at him with confusion. "Aziraphale, if you want me to leave, all you have to do is say so."

"No," Aziraphale rushed to clarify, "I didn't mean you! Please stay, if you want to. It's just that some people in discotheques can be quite persistence in their attempts to speak with me, and it affected my experience."

"In that case," Crowley relented without a struggle, "let's dance!"

Aziraphale beamed and snapped his fingers, and music filled the room. Demon and angel moved together, uncoordinated with the music or each other, to the lyrics of Yes Sir, singing at the top of their (non-existing) lungs "I can boogie, boogie woogie all night long".

[whats-another-song-contest]

I keep reading comments all over how disappointing the first Melfest heat was and apparently the least-watched Mello start in over a decade. There are even predictions about a possible NQ of Sweden (which I won't believe in because, well, it's Sweden and practically guaranteed around 20 televote points from Finland & Norway). According to Crystal Ball ESC on Twitter the next two heats are going to be even weaker than the first one, and there are speculations about the contest being rigged for Loreen since she got the ultimate pimp slot performing last in the last heat. What are your thoughts?

Oh, interesting question!

My feeling is that people are overreacting a bit by saying things like Sweden might have a non-qualifier before we've even heard all the entries. Another thing which I always keep in mind with esc stuff is the divide between the fans and the general public, since their tastes can differ drastically (see Latvia last year). As far as rigging the contest, I would say that's unlikely. I think that like most years we have a bunch of medicore songs and a few good ones, and because Loreen garners the most interest and likely has one of the better songs they've put her last to let people engage with the rest of the entries before she gets most of the attention (I'm also of the opinnion that people put too much store in the influence of the running order - just because it's the factor we know beforehand doesn't mean it'll be the most significant one on the actual night, when so many more and less predictable factors come into play). But I also only keep up with tumblr and YouTube comments, so I can't really evaluate the nuances of what fans are saying elsewhere.

I get where they're coming from though. To me it feels like mello has been running on empty for years now. Unlike countries with less established national selection procedures, where the varied selection processes may result in more diverse and risky entries, Melodifestivalen feels like a bohemuth whose deep roots make it very hard to shift. There is a very particular and established public perception of what mello is and should be in Sweden, and behind the scenes there is a whole industry which also helps maintain this expected fascade (how tired aren't we of hearing that the same few names have written most of the entries?).

It's like I said in my post comparing mello to doctor who: at this point mello keeps moving mostly on built-up momentum. But momentum doesn't allow for the quick turns and adaptions other countries can pull off so effortlessly. Momentum isn't a creative force, it's a derrivative one. For many countries, national selections are a sprint to be undertaken each year. Mello is a marathon we've been running since Björkman revolutionised the format in 2002. Another simile would be a garden: most countries plant new annuals every year, some have nice bushes they've been tending to for some years, and mello is the big old oak at the edge of the garden. It's majestic and showcases decades of dedicated hard work, yes, but no matter how much love and effort we keep puring into it, trees still grow old and wither. This particular one probably hit its prime over a decade ago.

I'm mixing my metaphors, but I think you get the point. We live in a very different world to 2002. We listen to and engage with music in ways you would struggle to explain to a 2002-ian if you were to go back in time and try. I think it's beyond argument that mello needs not just a reform, but to be revolutionised - the way they did in 2002 - to keep it interesting and relevant to current audiences: both the fans and the public at large. The transfer of management from Björkman to the new team (which happened before last year's edition) would have been a great opportunity for this to be done, but the tiny changes which actually were implemented are barely worthy of the name in my opinion. Behind the scenes they may have made a difference, but the experience of watching the show is very much the same - if not worse (glances at the painfully predictible voting procedure).

Real revolution would take inspiration, and that would equire entusiasm from people deeply familiar with the current landscape available to musical audiences. Mello feels like it's gone in the other direction, toward a more corporate "make a formula and stick to it" assembly line type deal. Though, I guess mello has never been the place you went for musical innovation; perhaps my tastes have just diversified with age. Either way, I agree with the general consensus that mello feels stale. There's a reason esc is my main interest, and it's the diversity of the music and performances. If mello feels more and more restrictive, esc is a liberating breath of fresh air. I can't wait for May to arrive!

[electricbluebutterflies]

Kabby + squeezing them tightly

Immediately post s2 finale, PG-ish, also on ao3.

She will blame this on the circumstances, later.

She’s tired – never mind that Abby can’t remember more than a few heartbeats of her adult life when that description didn’t apply, never mind that she doesn’t know who she is if she isn’t sleep-deprived and trying to live three people worth of life at the same time, this is worse than usual enough that it needs to be processed as such. She has very recently survived a traumatic event that left her in pain even she can’t ignore. She has had a very, very long couple of days and-

What she wants, in the moment, is to be left alone. That desire is why she knows it won’t happen.

They are going to have a talk, when she’s functional enough to pick stupid fights again – a week from now, she thinks, at absolute worst – about self-preservation instincts and how his used to be flawless and now appear nonexistent. There are things she doesn’t know, fine, the disappearance and the scar after are a few questions she just hasn’t had time to ask, but other recent injuries are…

Despite everything else she is, Abby isn’t sure she’s actually good at caring about other people on the deep level. She’s decidedly unsure about why she cares about him.

Maybe it’s the comfort of having a reliable nemesis. Maybe it’s the fact that Marcus, for all his faults – and why does mentally calling him by his first name make sense when she hasn’t in decades – has always at least taken her seriously. Which may have been the cause of a few threats over the years, but at least…

None of that matters. He disappeared after hurting her one last time, didn’t manage to kill himself in the wild world out there, came back, and has kept on with this passive-aggressively self-destructive spiral that doesn’t seem like anything Abby’s ever seen before and she’d worry if she could figure out the intent and she can’t and-

It’s probably for the best that he doesn’t leave when everyone else does, when the door to her sleepspace closes – how lucky she is to have an actual door, even if the lock doesn’t work – and he’s still there, right next to her, still holding her goddamned hand.

“You’re staying,” she says, not remotely a question.

“Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“And you’ll take any opportunity for sacrifice.”

He doesn’t immediately respond to that, doesn’t do anything but look at her with those worried eyes and oh she is not liking this whole being the human manifestation of someone’s midlife crisis thing and-

“I do owe you.”

That’s a distinct understatement, Abby thinks. She lost count of the death threats up on the Ark because she knew how aware he was of her importance within the social ecosystem, but that was still not polite behavior. Then there was the whole…

“Doesn’t mean you have to hurt yourself any further. Get over here.”

She manages to move her body closer to the wall, close enough there’s space for another one on the bed. She’s done this before, she reminds herself, she has done all of this before except not with this specific body, and if she doesn’t take him into her bed he’ll find a way to fuck up his leg that much more and the absolute last thing she needs is that man with a more lasting mobility issue and-

“Are you sure?”

She glares at him. “You’ve known me since we were children. Do you ever remember me asking for anything I didn’t want?”

More silence – again, she’s not sure what he’s up to, but she’s liking this change in their power dynamic. The hesitance feels safe, feels-

“You’ve had…”

“Exactly my point. So have you. Get over here.”

All these years in each other’s orbits and it occurs to her that she’s never really looked at him. Not like this, not eyes fixating as he removes jacket and boots in an attempt at… perhaps not respectability, that word still feels too far, but at least not getting unnecessary dirt on her blankets, at least-

There is something about him that wakes up a little tiny part of her heart that she’d thought had gone dormant, and now is not the time for such internal questioning but it’ll be a fun problem later. Hopefully. If they don’t wreck this. If they don’t-

They do, as she’d expected, both fit on the mattress. It’s close, and she shifts her position so some of her weight is on him, and… she hasn’t had such opportunity in a while, and the physical realities of widowhood have been what they have been but-

“What are you doing?” he asks, almost shocked.

“Making myself comfortable,” she replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Problem?”

“You don’t need to-“

“I’m not doing anything. We’re both fully clothed anyways. I just need…”

His arms slip around her body, permission given, and to her great surprise it appears he knows how to take a physical hint. He’s just solid enough to be good at this, pleasantly tight embrace, everything just so and-

“Is this what you want?”

Abby tilts her head for a moment to make herself absolutely clear. “Yes. Everything I want right now.”

[jerzwriter]

Has there been a situation when your pairing disagreed 100%? Not that it was a fight necessarily but they did have to sit and talk, maybe take some days to think about it, pros and cons list, etc. From the beginning they both had a completely different opinion.

Oh, for sure. I have three pairings, and while I believe all three are made for each other, they're still human... they're going to fight. lol

When we look at Ethan/Kaycee or Tobias/Casey, they overcame a lot to be together; once they were finally there, they were happy and in love, and that's all divine. But, there were two men that were committed bachelors who lived alone without having to take anyone into consideration for decades. There's going to be a learning curve there. I think, by and large, they aced those issues, but they existed.

To see some of the drama for each of my three pairings, see below.

With Ethan/Kaycee, I can see it being career related. It would still be difficult for him to turn down or see her turn down an opportunity. But when you're sharing your life, there is more to take into consideration. I can see Kaycee getting an opportunity, and turning it down from the start, because she has no plans on uprooting her life. Ethan finds out, and he is not happy. He adores her, but he still views the world as bigger than them. They should have at least discussed it. Then, maybe Ethan gets an offer that he doesn't entertain, then they have the same fight in reverse. lol

Children were another issue. Kaycee knew she wanted to be a mother one day, but Ethan wasn't totally on board. Still, he knew if they were going to be together, they needed to reach a consensus, and they did. After having difficulty conceiving, they also disagree on the next steps. Do they keep trying? Do they let it go? Do they adopt? Do they accept parenthood isn't happening for them? I don't think they'd be on the same page at first, and that would lead to some tears, misunderstandings, and fights before they come to a resolution.

Tobias/Casey are so simpatico, but they come from very different places. He was born into a family of extreme wealth and prestige, and she was born into a lower middle-income family that struggled like hell to make it to middle-income. Also, Casey is an open-minded, progressive, proud-as-fuck-bleeding-heart liberal, but she's also a white woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. Her husband, and later her daughters, are not. The two of them are going to view the world through different lenses, and that will take some getting used to at times.

Another issue where they didn't agree was the number of children to have. Tobias wanted a mini-softball team. But after Brooke (their second) was born, Casey thought that was enough. Now, they resolved that easily (his thought was, she has them, she has the final say)

Much later in life, they have a big disagreement, and it's heartbreaking. It's born of a place of love and fear, and Casey caves for the sake of Tobias until he realizes that wasn't right. I always say I won't post this (written) fic unless I"m leaving here for good... but who knows? Maybe one day.

Eli/Zoe - They tend not to have big disagreements - they've been through too too much, they're far too grateful for each other, and they know every day is borrowed time, but they squabble a lot... and probably end it by making out or having sex. lol

They agree they don't want to have children, not in the world they live in. It's too dangerous, but... when it happens, they handle it very, very differently. It's probably their biggest battle until they work it out.

[aryasage]

blood so silver black by night

yes it should be phel theme not diana theme. it's still lunari and i'm running out of titles from phel theme. sue me.

if i could make this hit 1k it would probably go into the oneshots that didn't fit into atcybyna but i wanted to post SOME content in the next decade so here you all go (it could still probably hit 1k after going back and revising it as this thing is a mess and a half but again. wanted to get content out. it's definitely because i'm generous and not because i couldn't be bothered to proofread. yep.) a different version of this might end up being actually posted at some point, but for now, have this

this is set during tncfl, an exchange between deokdam and viper. no graphic depictions of anything but vague mentions of abuse, violence, all your standard viper backstory stuff. oh and also religion because i find fantasy religion really fun to explore so it ended up taking up a lot of this little piece. anyway keep reading for some actual writing for once :)

You’re…like me? Deokdam asks hesitantly upon hearing Viper’s voice, so similar to his own yet so much rougher, full of pain buried deep down.

Am I? Viper responds, poison in his voice threatening to spill over. You had a choice, didn’t you?

Deokdam is taken aback by the question. What do you mean?

The moon’s gifts, Viper says bluntly. You wanted them, didn’t you?

I—of course. it was an honour to receive her blessing, Deokdam says, unsure of where Viper’s going with this.

Did you— Viper stops, taking a deep breath before continuing. Could you have said no, if you didn’t want them?

I mean—why would I? I knew what I was getting into, had prepared for it my whole life. Didn’t you?

Viper scoffs, and his support looks over at him, but Viper waves him off before addressing the other ADC again, avoiding eye contact. Yeah, no. I’m not like you.

What do you—

I didn’t know what I was getting into. I didn’t get a choice, didn’t have an opportunity to say no—and I tried. You drink noctum willingly—imagine it’s forced down your throat with no idea what’s happening. Then you have to keep taking it just to keep yourself alive.

Deokdam stares at him, horrified. Why would anyone— The ceremony, the ritual, the acceptance—that’s the most important part. Not the gifts themselves. It’s—willingly making that sacrifice—that’s the entire point—

Viper sighs. Not everyone in our faith had the same idea. Some were too focused on their…objectives to care about what they had to do to get to them. What was one person, in the grand scheme of things? The individual doesn’t matter, after all.

Only its role, Deokdam finishes out of habit. But wait, that’s not what it’s supposed to mean—

I know that. Pretty sure they did too. Just chose to ignore it in favour of their agenda. It was all in her name, after all. How could she disapprove?

And what, exactly, was the agenda that justified them doing that? Deokdam asks, but he’s not entirely sure he wants to know the answer.

Viper doesn’t answer the question, asking his own instead. You prepared for it your whole life, right? But what kind of preparation was that? Training? Practise? Viper looks away, his next words quieter, yet they echo in Deokdam’s mind louder than ever. You learn a lot faster when your life depends on it. In real battles. Especially when you’re not protected by any Guild’s magical guarantee. He takes another deep breath, exhaling slowly before finally answering the question that Deokdam asked. As for their ideals, well…I don’t know how much of what they said was true. But they must have been at least somewhat right, because it’s definitely true that there are some that aren’t so…approving of our faith.

Her sister’s followers…Deokdam responds quietly. I thought they swore to stop centuries ago.

Maybe some did. Like your guild’s old support, I imagine. But there are always exceptions. Where do you think this came from, after all? Viper asks, subtly indicating the scar on his face. It’s silvery, just like the few scars that Deokdam has, the telltale sign of being healed with one of the moon’s weapons. But the edges are rough, almost like a blade set alight had carved into skin—oh. Sunfire? That can’t be right, it must just be something like it—

Viper nods, almost imperceptibly.

I’m so sorry—

Viper cuts him off. I don’t need your pity, he says, scowling and turning his head away from Deokdam.

It’s not pity! I—I got enough of that with my first Guild. None of them understood that I wouldn’t give up my gifts for anything no matter how much the noctum hurts, and I can’t even imagine how it would be for you—there’s a reason I stopped trying to explain them to my new teammates. He sighs before continuing. I’m sorry that you never got to accept your gifts, never got to prepare yourself for any of it. It’s not fair that I did and you didn’t, and I wanted to apologise for that. It shouldn’t have been like that.

It’s not your fault. You don’t need to apologise. Besides, it’s not like they could keep their hold on me forever, Viper says, smirking. I got my gifts, but they don’t get their champion. Not anymore. I won, in the end.

They both fall silent before Viper finally asks a question softly. What was it like for you?

What do you mean?

What should it have been like for me?

Oh. Deokdam’s tried explaining to people who didn’t understand before. It’s never ended well. But with Viper, well, he’s all too happy to share. He at least owes his fellow marksman that much, and as he begins to describe the details of the night when he accepted his gifts, Viper listens, taking in every word.

[thedonkeyofyourdreams]

rewatching the bastard son/half bad

Ep. 2

I wanted to add pictures this time, but my screenshots turn out black and I cannot be bothered to find a way around it right now. Oh well, I’ll add the gifs I can find. 

Poor Nathan, he was just stabbed and only the next day a group of people beat him up while his sister watches. And to think that the violence in the show is toned down compared to the books. 

I did read the books like a decade ago, and if you had asked me before I watched the show, what I could remember from the books I would have said:

* Boy being locked in a dog cage outdoors

* Boy falling in love with another boy

* My heart hurting, I might have cried

Honestly, I didn’t even remember that there was magic. 

Back to the episode. 

So we see Jessica training, and she is not the best, but she’ll be fine because she’s the most evil. She doesn’t need to hit all of the targets because she’ll get into peoples heads instead.  And I mean, Hazel is a bitch, and in some ways I can appreciate Jessica’s way of getting back on her in the locker room - but when Hazel is being killed and Jessica decides to take the opportunity to fuck with her one last time, I’m pretty much reminded that this girl is disturbed. 

Meanwhile, Celia is training Nathan, with just as much success. I’m still a bit confused about her showing up in the dark while he’s running, to tell him that he looks like his father. I get that they want her to say it so that we’ll hear her back story about seeing the killings, and that her back story explains why she is being a hardass towards Nathan, but the whole showing up in the forest is a bit weird to me. It is strange how we can see her being so rough on him and still kinda like her. She’s no mother figure, that’s for sure. I mean, give the kid a new outfit at least, he almost bled out in this one a month ago. 

I think it is great to see Annalise’s giving ceremony. It is such a stark contrast to Jessica’s. She gets fancy gifts, she has lots of high status guests and even a cake. Her father pricks his finger to give her blood, instead of cutting into his wrist like Nathan’s gran did. There is no doubt that there is an elite of witches and that when Jessica tells Kieran that she had to work a lot harder than him to become a recruit, she probably wasn’t exaggerating. 

Annalise and David. I’m kinda happy for her that she tried to move on from Nathan. I don’t think he looks weird. I still like her and her jokes. I hate him for grabbing her thigh and think it is an interesting way of introducing her powers. Trauma from the start. Oh how much easier it would be to be able to make animals talk. Personally I would have loved to have that skill. So would Annalise, she has no one else to talk to apparently, especially not about Nathan. Rats are smart though, you could probably teach them to use tiny buttons, whataboutbunny style. 

Soul... Showing his true colours. He doesn’t care that Hazel is dead at all, no reaction. He is scared that he’s about to be killed, I get that, but he kept the dark magic book for a reason. He wants to use it. He is ready to kill for the opportunity to use it. My first time viewing this, I didn’t understand what he was up to, so I didn’t quite understand yet how unhinged he already was at this point, but oh boy. More like he waited for the last of the ten to die so that he would get his chance. 

Or did you move your son to Nathan’s school to see what would happen? 

I’m still confused about the timeline though - it seems they just skipped winter?? Or was the halloween party not a halloween party?

Alright, another episode I enjoyed a lot. I could write loads more, but I’d rather keep watching.

[manonamora-if-reviews]

Barcarolle in Yellow by Víctor Ojuel

============= Links

Play the game See other reviews of the game

============= Synopsis

Barcarolle in Yellow (1975, released in Italy as "Barcarolla in Giallo"), starring Eva Chantry. This lurid but stylish Italian thriller is set in Venice during the filming of an eponymous exploitation film, with the lead actress credited as "playing herself". In the day it was critically panned by highbrow critics as "yet another entertainment for those who relish scantily clad ladies being murdered in grisly ways, trippy camerawork and nonsensical plot twists" and relegated to the relative obscurity of other "video nasties". In the ensuing decades, this giallo has attained cult status, fondly remembered for its bold photography, ambiguous subtext, and of course the tragic circumstances that surrounded the production. Rumours abound about alternative endings that were cut from the theatre version, either by the Italian censors or the American distributor, with bootleg Betamax copies commanding high prices online.

============= Other Info

Barcarolle in Yellow is an Inform 7 parser, submitted to the 2023 Edition of the IFComp. It ranked 55th overall.

Status: Completed Genre: Giallo

CW: Murder, blood, sex, nudity, terrible acting

============= Playthrough

Played: 15-Dec-2023 Playtime: around 1h-ish (with walkthrough) Rating: 2/5 Thoughts: Missed the mark with loads of potential

============= Review

Barcarolle in Yellow is a meta parser, working as an interactive movie script for a pulpy giallo, blurring the lines between reality and movie scenes. You play as B-list probably-washed-out actress Eva Chantry as she gets the call to star in the eponymous movie. With a twist-on-twist-on-twist, the game includes multiple endings (found A, I know of at least 6), in-game hints, and a walkthrough for one ending (A).

Spoilers ahead. It is recommended to play the game first. The review is based on my understanding/reading of the story.

This game got me a bit conflicted.

The premise is enticing, the poster is so eye-catching, and the starting scene? an incredible way of hooking players. So darn unique! With the formatting the game introduction and credits, the game seem to play heavily on movie codes. With its whole fake-cult movie vibe, it reminded me a bit of the Goncharov meme. I was really intrigued with what the game had to offer, what meta commentary it might be making about the genre, or how to approach the scene/real-life aspect.

Then I started the game... and the problems started. During the first proper playable scene, a Spaghetti Western filmed in Spain, events ended up repeating itself when I took off my costume after the shoot ended, with the director screaming CUT again, belittling Eva for screwing with filming. The following scene is timed, with any wrong move, any missing action, leading you to your early death. I died and restarted the game so many times because of that ONE scene needed a very specific sequence of actions to ward off your stalker. The timing is so tight it barely takes into account failing or asking for hints.

The rest of the game feels pretty railroady, with us/Eva getting few opportunities to have agency. This makes sense, considering she is an actress playing the role given to her, following the directions told. You have some options of choices here and there, which influences the story, but not much more. There is only one path you can take, or you'd lose the game, essentially.

But the game is not always clear about which actions are the wanted ones. It does provide hints, which are formatted like snippets of a movie script, telling the player a general idea of what they should do next (this was so smart!). Sometimes, the necessary (and unusual) action is not included in the hint... making things complicated. This maybe the most obvious in that first times scene. I had to look the walkthrough up to avoid (finally) dying right at the start. It really takes you out of the immersion the game so craft-fully created in the prior moments. It happens again when shooting the scene on the bridge. The undercluing really messes with playing.

After trying and failing to get through the game... I just opened the walkthrough and followed it to the letter... or tried to. Your hotel in Venice changes name with every playthrough (that was neat), but only one is included there (so I died... again and again, until I realised what was wrong). I would have been nice if the walkthrough included all possible paths instead of just that one ending... I'm sure someone will end up publishing a comprehensive walkthrough at some point...

The writing goes all-in in the giallo genre, with the depiction of Eva as this seductress woman in her hotel room - the character being overtly sexualised, but also wink-wink hihihi - as well as being the subject of quite a large amount of violence... and not being able to do much about it on or off screen. It's not really pleasant to go through, honestly, and I am not sure what the point of the game was concerning this. Was it discussing how movies with shitty budgets have bad production periods where accidents happen but everyone have to deal with it? Is this a commentary on standards in the entertainment industry for actresses, especially in terms of being replaceable when their attractiveness fade? Or about the psychology being having no agency through the frame of an "adventure" game? Is there even a message in all this? Do you need to find all the endings to get the overall picture? (I hope not...)

This game had ticked all the checkboxes for being incredible, but its potential just fell flat with the muddled and sometimes buggy implementation. It has a good solid back bone, and some neat things (the script formatting and custom messages), but it still needs quite a bit of tweaking to make it the cult movie/game it is hoping to be.

Final note: spam Z at the end of the game for bonus features.

[frogsandfries]

Oh-kaayyyy

So there's a semi-annual inspection on my weekend. Is this legal? I'm not on section eight..... Anyway, I figured it wouldn't entirely kill me to clean up a bit now and I can do some more--like beginning to vacuum--over the next couple days. Like, no way in hell am I taking my recyclables out. I just put on my slipper socks; it's dark outside and it was cold earlier when I was returning my stupid fucking router.

Plus, my place never gets like......hoarder gross, just like, this person lives here and has ferrets for cats.

Anyway, I finally, finally got the goddamn stupid fucking router to work. So I finally downloaded the blogs I would most be sad to lose.

Uuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmm

I didn't realize that basically, it tears the blogs apart and then if you want them put together, like in a book I would imagine......... you have to manually find a way to put that shit back together. Also, a blog as big as frogsandfries presently is (22,156 before this post)............at least on this laptop, isn't downloading nicely.....and also, would be someone's life's work to reconstruct. Sooooooooooo that's fun. Imagine you could cram an average of just like, 1.5 posts per page......I'm imagining a 5x8 book, because that's like, a normal book size.....a book of just this blog would be gargantuan. Or just a ridiculous number of volumes.

Also, does anyone else just think about the.....just overwhelming quantities of information they've created? Like, here I am undertaking turning someone else's life's work--thousands of pages of handwriting and typewriting--and not even thinking about the mountains of Me that I'm leaving behind. I mean, there are the books that I'm binding, preserving parts of the internet archive of fanfiction; stories that people wrote, openly admitting that they were inspired by someone else. And then there are the gigabytes of just photos that saved to my google cloud (not counting all the pictures I either lost or got posted to a blog and have been buried). I've already planned to put all my pictures from google into photo books. I've already planned to print them on some kind of glossy paper.

And this is just information from the past ten or so years.

What about moving forward? I have at least another three to five decades of life expectancy, and I don't see myself being any less generative. I'm still going to keep screenshotting wild things I find on the internet, I'm still going to keep gathering studies and references. Honestly, a book of just things that inspire me or that I would stick to a pinboard so that I can see them would probably be a whole book. My cats will probably get their own book. I'm going to keep logging and showing off the things that I create. I'm going to occasionally need to journal my thoughts.

I'm just trying to picture all of these honestly, what should be impossible amounts of information that we all produce on a daily basis. And for better or for worse, one day, the sands of time will just.....wipe it away. The first to vanish will be the things that were never preserved offline. And who am I, really, to cling to an opportunity for some form of immortality? I mean, apart from a person who is having these.....big, tiny, existential thoughts.

Anyway. I kinda started to do a 'strangers in my home' clean on my apartment. I never did end up finishing those 'colors of the sky' notebooks........ I have so many big projects..... I want to finally, one, crack the Darger texts and turn it into something that is.....what's the word that I'm looking for here.... I intend to probably post it to something like AO3 and maybe even post it to like, Amazon or some other PoD site for people to request at their leisure. I want to make it something accessible and malleable. Like, you definitely could download it totally for free yourself off of AO3, and print it on the paper of your choosing--or you can go the convenience route. Not that I even remotely expect any kind of notoriety for doing this. I'm just doing it because it calls to me.

Maybe then I can finally turn my attention to archiving and preserving my internet existence.

I put up those lights I've been mumbling about. I was having an issue with my internet which is really the only reason I left my home instead of being at work. My phone is dead rn, but it's really cool. It was gloomy today, but this strip of lights lights up the space like daylight. I really can't get over it and I'm so eager to buy probably my final set of lights for over the couch.

I'm also thinking about purchasing more jars, maybe in a few different sizes, for these fairy lights, and probably finding a way to pin a few jars of lights to the wall, for a bit of ambient lighting.

Also, I think this is my last random rambly thought, but if you have the patience, apparently you can just kinda one-fell-swoop download all your photos off your google cloud???? I probably won't do this unless I can muster enough self-control to save for a hard-drive because......can you even imagine downloading that much information all at once??

I really ought to at least pick at that project once in a while.

[lovendermist]

First Kiss

Type: Scenario, Fluff

WC: 831

Pairing: Hange x Reader

A/N: fucking slay

hange masterlist

It was a quiet and sultry day, perfect for resting and spending time with none other than Hange. They had arrived at your place since you were both free, and they were just dying to see you. They missed you terribly, and of course, so did you. Who wouldn't take the opportunity to spend some alone time with the love of your life? It was the perfect day for cuddling and kissing each other's cheek, being clingy and goofy together.

They had joined you in eating lunch. The sound of silverware clanging on plates and Hange's rambling emanated in the room.

Soon after you were done and had brushed your teeth– with Hange lovingly clinging to you from behind as you did your work in the sink, giving you kisses on the back and neck– it was time to lounge on the couch. And like tradition, Hange had started rambling about their work.

It felt like ages in heaven hearing them tell their tales for minutes. Hange was back to their erratic movements and using their hands while talking. But in the middle of it, you felt the need to pee. You tried to ignore Hange's remarks of wanting to joining you in the bathroom.

"I'm done." You called out. Hange immediately reached out and hugged you once the door had opened.

"Miss me much?" You asked. Hange nodded. "At least let me wash my hands first! I'm dirtyyy."

"Nooo" Hange exclaimed, even though they followed you all the way to the sink while clinging to your waist.

After a few more dramatic antics and some whining, back to the couch was where you two headed. And lounging turned into cuddling. And cuddling turned to a parade of kisses on your body, anywhere Hange's lips can reach.

Eventually they had reached higher and higher, and now your cheek was the next victim of those lips.

"Mhmm." Hange sighed. They looked cute resting their chin lightly on your stomach, with their puppy dog eyes. You knew too well that that gaze meant they were memorizing your features in the moment. Hange always looks so focused when they do that.

And they put yet another kiss on the cheek.

And another.

Another.

And--

"Oh!"

Hange looked surprised. You began to register the events that happened at the speed of light.

Hange had accidentally kissed you on the lips.

"Oh no!", they said. But it didn't really bother you, "I'm sorry!" They looked rather alarmed.

"I thought you were going to turn your head as usual, but--" It really did not bother you, at all.

"I know you wanted your first kiss to be something special--"

You're not bothered one bit.

"Hange." You called out.

"Hm?"

Maybe you didn't think this through. Maybe this wasn't how you expected things to go. But something in you had felt something new. A broken wire, a tangled mess, but in all the right ways. You pushed Hange gently on the seat of the couch and kissed them back. A gentle, slow, soft kiss. It felt so good, so freeing to finally put your lips on theirs. Maybe it was stupid to wait for some special moment. Maybe it was childish to think things like that happen. But who were you to care when finally, finally, you could kiss them without feeling your own expectations on your shoulders?

Hange kissed back. Their hands grabbed your back, positioning you in a way that you wouldn't get out easily, and you were close to them. And just like you, they were thrilled to kiss you in a private moment like ths. They were free to be vulnerable. You put your hands on their shoulder and face. It was so good to hold them like this. How could you wait this long to kiss them, the love of your life, be held by them? You didn't even think that much patience was possible. You didn't care anymore.

After what seemed like decades, you finally pulled away. Hange was dazed, and you probably looked just as shocked.

"I love you." Hange mumbled, still bewildred by the events that happened in the span of a minute.

"I love you too." You replied quick.

As the afternoon dragged on, more kisses were shared in secret. You two felt even more closer than before, if it was even possible. Hange felt amazing. To feel so out in the open like that, expressing their feelings in a kiss was beyond incredible, unimaginable. You just knew today would be so meaningful, and were lucky to spend the day like this with Hange. It was amazing to have someone so stunning and wonderful like them, and you were ecstatic to have them be your first kiss.

You couldn't wait to gush about this to Hange. This was certainly a day to remember, to reminisce about, take a trip down memory lane to.

Your first kiss was none other than Hange. It sounds nice to hear it like that.

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (254): Fri 25th Nov 2022

I decided to take one final day off today because yesterday while I was playing with Luna I sat down and my lower back started hurting for some reason. This kind of thing happens all the time where I trap something but normally it gets fixed after I stand or squat or stretch. I tried contorting my body in all sorts of ways but try as I might the pain persisted all day and was still pissing me off today. I was annoyed at myself because I’ve been on a good streak since starting here back in June and now if ruined it by taking a week off (although two of those days were scheduled days off anyway so it’s really only 3 days off). I spent the day making a huge playlist of stuff I’m into / want to get into. I want to learn about the history / culture of Halloween and the Day of the Dead so I added every documentary I could find on the subject. I also want to learn about motorbikes and surfing so added as many of those videos too plus documentaries about people who's work I want to become well versed in such as Edgar Allan Poe and William Hope Hodgson. Since I spend most of my time watching YouTube anyway I might as well use it to get into stuff that I've wanted to get into for a while but have been too lazy to do so. My plan is to just shuffle the playlist up at the start of the night and have all these personalized videos on the TV all the time. The problem is that YouTube on the TV doesn't offer you the chance to shuffle the playlist so I've had to download the app to my phone which does allow you to shuffle the playlist. So I'll have to shuffle it on the app, watch one video then come out of it and then select the next randomized video in the playlist instead of the TV just playing one random video after another which is what I want. I mean I know the people in Ukraine are going through a bit of a kerfuffle at the moment but at least they haven't got to deal with annoying shit like this.

Richard Herrings blog Warming Up turned 20 years old today. I first became aware of Herring's work 1 years ago and upon researching him found out that he did his own daily blog. Warming Up is Herring writing up the events of the previous day but he always finds a way to be amusing about whatever happened in the previous 24 hours. It was Herring's blog that inspired me to create this one (which by the way will turn 10 years old on December 8th. I started doing a blog every day on December 8th 2012 on a different site then in 2020 I stopped publishing it to the internet because no-one was reading it but kept writing it for my own pleasure. Then earlier this year I decided to start uploading it to the internet again. Maybe one day I'll re-upload all the stuff from 2012 - 2020 and all the previously un-read content from 2020 - the present) as I found the idea of challenging yourself to come up with something creative every day very alluring and I saw it as an opportunity to get better at writing (which hasn't really happened to be honest, if anything my grammar has gotten worse in the last 10 years). Herring reaching a full twenty years of writing a blog every single day is very impressive and I hope he is as proud of himself as I am. I won't say Herring provided me with an "awakening" as that's perhaps too grandiose a way of putting it but definitely changed my life for the better because if it weren't for him inspiring me to do this blog then I would likely remember hardly anything about the last 10 years. There are so many things that have happened to me in the last decade that I probably would have forgotten about had I not included them in this blog. Most of them are minor events but there are lots of minor events from my childhood and teen years that I would love to be able to recall but I can't because I wasn't writing a blog at the time (because they didn't exist). If you've never read Richard Herring's blog before I suggest you start because it's always good for a laugh every day and it's a great lesson that a bit of discipline can go a long way.