fawnheart
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For as long as you could remember, mirror-touch synesthesia had left you far too exposed to the world around you and isolated from others in the same breath. Your condition was not dissimilar to an open wound: raw, gaping, and painful.
However, a chance encounter with the refined and unsettling Dr. Lecter has you tumbling down the rabbit hole, drawn into a Wonderland of art, crime, and unnerving intimacy. As your friendship deepens, Hannibal thinks it best to introduce you to a special FBI agent whose empathy disorder mirrors your own in unexpected ways.
But the deeper you're pulled into their orbit, the harder it becomes to tell where shiny veneers end and your true, authentic selves begin.
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As the Grimes' old babysitter, you didn't expect to see any familiar faces in the apocalypse. You should have seen it coming, you suppose. It was a small world, and it'd only gotten smaller since then. You wonder if it's possible to carve out a place for you here, or if you'll suffer some kind of tragic fate, doomed by the narrative. But Wildfire isn't the only sort of sickness going around, and if you aren't careful, you just might find yourself infected...
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It’s ironic how quickly you had been lulled to sleep while sprawled across the backseat of the older Winchester’s mint-condition 67’ Chevy Impala, even with the faint din of traffic, the blaring classic rock, and the occasional back-and-forth between Sam and Dean, you’d always managed to be out like a light in less then a few minutes. Now, back in Bobby’s house in your old room, rest couldn’t find you amidst the floral, shabby chic wallpaper that was beginning to peel at the edges and the dusty pink silk sheets you’d had since you were a freshman in high school.
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The car ride to Valdelobos is an eerily silent one that has you resisting the urge to take sideways glances at your partner throughout the way. Leon S. Kennedy sits in the seat beside you, a fellow Secret Security Service agent and the man who was partially responsible for taking down the Umbrella Corporation—which was no easy feat, you're frequently told.
It’s your first day out on the field, and Leon’s first mission since he'd been assigned to protect the president’s family. Like most things in life, it was supposed to be a simple job—until it wasn't...
Because things just never seem to go as planned, did they?
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As Astarion takes another borderline-masochistic sip of his sorry excuse for a drink, he’s surprised when he lowers his hand and comes face-to-face with none other than the very cause of all his recent unrest. Perfect timing, as always. You flash him that unassuming, authentic smile of yours, slowly blinking your doe lashes up at him.
It irks him just as much as it makes his trousers tight.