emotionally attached to fictional characters

So in the ghost he loved, Alex is a bit unhinged, making sure Nigel is safe, and Nigel has a cousin named Alison, whom Alex mistakes as Nigel's girlfriend and fiancée. So you can imagine the beef he has with her.

In Tower and the Dead, Alex does have magical powers; you can guess which power he hides because magic is punished by death. It's all John's fault, who also locked away Nigel because he had the blue eyes of a necromancer, which are a legend.

In We will be united, it is revealed that Nigel is pregnant, and later it is revealed that he is still alive.

In soft thorns, the cat that is adopted by Alex is none other than Nigel.

And that's it for now!

Alex glances at Nigel, who is covered in blood. Who did he kill this time? he thinks.

The blood on his shirt and wrists is dripping to the ground in slow drops.

And Nigel is holding a bundle in his arms, tightly pressing it toward his chest.

That’s when Alex sees the tears streaming down his face.

“What is it, Nigel?” Alex asks, afraid of what could have caused Nigel to let out such emotion.

Nigel doesn’t answer him, there is no hint of his mocking smiles nor does he try to get a rise of Alex.

“He shot him,” whispered Nigel, looking at Alex with devastated blue eyes.

The eyes are so blue. They are wide, glassy, and completely hollowed out by grief.

Alex’s gaze drops from Nigel’s face to the bundle in his arms. The dark fur is matted with thick, fresh blood. 

It’s Luther. 

The dog’s body is already growing heavy and still.

“Nigel…” Alex steps forward, his voice cracking. He looks down at the floor and notices the metal tray Nigel must have brought from his room. A sterile scalpel, surgical thread, and gauze are scattered on the floor, all soaked in crimson. 

Nigel had tried to perform surgery. He had tried to dig the bullet out, desperately trying to use his skills to save the only thing he loved, but his hands—usually so steady—must have failed him.

“I tried to fix it,” Nigel chokes out, his chest heaving as he presses the lifeless dog closer to his chest, staining his shirt further. “I could have fixed it. But he just… he just pulled the trigger. He smiled, Alex. He smiled when he did it.”

For the first time since they met, Nigel looks small. He looks like a little boy broken by his father’s cruelty.

Alex doesn't think about the blood, or the rules, or the danger. He just moves. He closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around Nigel’s shaking shoulders. Nigel doesn’t pull away.

He buries his face into Alex’s neck, letting out a sharp, ragged breath that sounds dangerously close to a sob. 

Alex holds him tightly, anchoring him to the earth, wishing he could wash the blood and the horror away.

Later that night... 

The dormitory is silent, bathed in the cold, pale moonlight filtering through the window. Alex stirs in his sleep, a restless feeling pulling him awake. He glances across the room toward Nigel’s bed.

Nigel is curled onto his side, facing the wall. He is finally washed clean of the blood, but he isn't asleep. His shoulders are rigid, completely tense in the dark. 

As Alex adjusts his eyes to the dark, he sees what Nigel is holding. It isn't a childhood toy. It is Luther.

Nigel hadn't buried him. Instead, he had spent the grueling hours of the evening using his cold, meticulous taxidermy skills to stitch his companion back together—preserving him so he would never have to leave.

In the faint, silver moonlight cutting across the bedsheets, Alex can see the neat, tight rows of black thread binding the dark fur where the bullet had torn through. It is a hauntingly perfect piece of work, completed with a frantic, desperate precision. 

Now, Nigel is curled on his side, clutching the stiff, stuffed form of the dog fiercely against his chest, right where his heart is. He holds onto the preserved body as if it’s a lifeline, keeping him from slipping completely into the dark.

Alex watches him in the quiet night, his own heart aching, realizing that Nigel’s soul isn’t cold—it’s just bleeding.

Unable to leave Nigel alone with his ghosts, Alex quietly slips out from under his own covers. The cold floor bites at his bare feet, but he ignores it, crossing the room with silent, deliberate steps.

He stops at the edge of Nigel's bed. Nigel doesn't move, but his breathing hitches, signaling he knows Alex is there.

Without a word, Alex lifts the edge of the blanket and slips into the small bed beside him. Nigel stiffens, but he doesn't push him away. Alex lies down, pressing his chest against Nigel’s back, and wraps an arm securely around Nigel’s waist. 

His hand comes to rest just over Nigel’s trembling fingers, which are still locked tight around the taxidermied dog.

Alex pulls him close, sharing his warmth, anchoring Nigel's shaking frame against his own.

"I'm here," Alex whispers into the quiet space between them, his voice barely a breath.

"I'm right here, Nigel."

Nigel crouches down, the sharp tension in his shoulders melting away as a soft, genuine smile breaks across his face. “Hey,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into a rare tone of pure warmth.

His human places both hands firmly around Luther’s massive, heavy head, framing his face with familiar, gentle palms. Luther immediately surrenders to the touch. He leans his entire weight into Nigel, closing his eyes as a deep, vibrating rumble builds in his chest—a contented growl of absolute happiness.

“Hey, Luther,” Nigel whispers. His fingers sink into the thick fur, scratching perfectly right behind the dog's ears. Nigel coos softly, leaning his forehead against Luther's broad brow. He presses a tender kiss right between the dog's eyes, nuzzling deeply into his neck. Luther inhales deeply, soaking up the comforting scent of his master, the intrusive red-haired stranger completely forgotten in the warmth of Nigel's embrace.

“Is he yours?” Luther hears the other human ask, his voice hesitant.

“He's next door's,” Nigel replies smoothly.

“He's beautiful, isn't he?”

Luther absolutely preens at hearing that. His heavy tail wiggles so hard his entire backside shakes in pure happiness. He perks his ears up and holds his head high. He knows he is beautiful. He is the handsomest, cutest dog in the whole world, and he loves being told so.

But as he looks closer at the stranger, his proud little moment fades. Luther sniffs the air, catching the heavy, complicated scent rolling off the outsider. He can smell how much this boy wants his master's attention—how he lusts after Nigel and wants him all to himself. Luther does not like sharing his favorite human at all.

Determined to protect his favorite person, Luther trots closer to the red-haired boy. He fixes him with a stern, protective glare and curls his lip to bare his teeth. He lets out a loud, booming ruff! that echoes in the night.

The boy instantly steps back in fear. Luther huffs, feeling incredibly pleased with himself. Take that, intruder.

“He doesn’t like you,” Nigel chuckles at Alex, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

Far away in the distance, another dog barks into the night air. Luther’s ears twitch. Duty calls. He answers with a loud, warning bark of his own to show who owns this neighborhood. 

But before he goes to check it out, he cannot resist one last goodbye. He happily jumps up, planting his front paws right on Nigel's chest, and gives his human a massive, wet lick right across the face.

Nigel bursts out laughing, wiping his cheek but smiling warmly.

As Luther trots away to patrol the yard, his heart is full. He knows exactly what comes next. Nigel will bring that human inside, straight to the special room—the secret, dark crawlspace where Nigel frequently sneaks Luther in for midnight cuddles and quiet company.

Maybe his human found his mate after all, but that does not mean Luther is happy about it. Nigel is his human.

He returns shortly after checking out the neighborhood, his chest puffed out with pride after successfully chasing away two wandering dogs. But as he trots back toward the house, his sharp ears twitch. He hears a faint, muffled crash coming from the basement area. A moment later, the door creaks open, and Nigel's father steps out onto the porch.

Luther narrows his eyes. He hates this tall, angry human. He knows Nigel’s father is strict and mean, and Luther absolutely does not want him interrupting Nigel down there.

He definitely cannot let him find out that his pup might have a mate in the secret room.

Thinking quickly, Luther sprints straight toward the porch. He plants his paws on the grass and lets out a series of frantic, loud, boisterous barks, making as much noise as his lungs can manage.

The strategy works perfectly. Nigel’s father glares into the dark, instantly assuming it was just Luther who made the crashing sound. He shouts angrily, throwing his arms up to chase Luther away from the property. 

Luther pretends to run, letting out a satisfied little huff as the man grumbles and goes back inside the house. Luther wags his tail in the dark. He is incredibly happy because he just helped his human keep his secret safe.

The next time Luther sees that human boy, weeks have passed. He spots Nigel and the boy together. Nigel has talked to him about this boy before, and Luther recalls his name is Alex.

They are standing outside, burning some meat over a fire—or at least, that is what Luther thinks it is. He watches them from afar, his tail still, sensing the heavy tension in the air. Suddenly, Alex starts arguing with Nigel. The shouting is loud and sharp. Alex turns on his heel and leaves angrily, his footsteps stomping away into the dark.

As soon as Alex is gone, the air shifts. Luther can smell the sudden change in Nigel. A wave of profound sadness and cold fear rolls off his master. Luther does not understand the human words they fought about, but he knows one thing for certain: his human is hurting, and it is his job to comfort him.

Luther trots over to his human, whining softly to let him know he is there. He looks up into Nigel’s eyes, lets out a small, happy growl to lift his spirits, and gently licks his hand.

“Hey, Luther,” his human says, his voice breaking with a terrifying sadness.

Nigel drops to his knees, burying his face directly into Luther’s thick neck fur. Luther wraps himself around his master, leaning his heavy body against him like a warm blanket, trying to absorb all of Nigel's pain. He nudges Nigel’s chin with his wet nose, whimpering softly as if to say, I’m here. I’m always here.

Nigel pulls back slightly, his fingers trembling as he pets Luther's head. “Be a good boy, Luther, and take care, will you?”

A single, hot tear falls from Nigel’s face, landing on Luther’s fur. Luther hates seeing his master this sad. It makes his own heart ache.

But then, Nigel stands up and reaches for something hidden nearby. Luther watches as his human picks up a long, cold, heavy metal object—the shotgun. Luther doesn't understand what the weapon is for, but the scent of cold steel and the dark, final look in Nigel’s eyes fills the dog with a deep, unsettling dread.

Nigel does not return.

Luther curls his heavy body tightly against the cold gate of the basement entrance, refusing to leave the spot. He watches the door with unblinking eyes, waiting, always waiting, for his human to walk through. 

Every time the wind howls or a shadow shifts and his human doesn't appear, a tiny, broken whine slips from Luther’s throat.

Weeks bleed into one another, and a heavy, suffocating worry settles deep in Luther’s chest. He does not understand what happened to his beloved human. 

Why isn't he back by now? His human never leaves Luther alone for this long. 

Never. 

The loneliness aches worse than hunger.

Then, one afternoon, a sharp click echoes through the quiet. The basement gate swings open.

Luther’s heart instantly fills with exploding, ecstatic hope. His human is back!

He scrambles to his feet, his massive paws flying down the wooden stairs so fast they barely even touch the ground. He rounds the corner, tail already starting to wag, ready to throw his heavy weight into his master’s arms.

But the person standing there isn’t Nigel.

It is a stranger—a woman.And she is rummaging through his human's precious things, defiling the sacred, hidden space where Nigel used to sneak Luther when they were both just tiny pups.

A fierce, protective rage shatters Luther’s heartbreak. He cannot let her destroy Nigel's sanctuary. With a ferocious, guttural growl, Luther lunges forward, his teeth bared to tear into the intruder. But the woman screams in terror, slamming the heavy wooden door shut just in time. 

Luther crashes headfirst into the solid wood with a sickening thud, the impact rattling his skull and throwing him backward into the dirt.

Defeated and locked out, Luther retreats back up to the garden. He sets up camp directly in front of the entrance, a solitary, broken guardian. He does not move. He barely touches the food left out for him. 

When well-meaning neighbors and strangers try to approach, trying to coax him away with soft words, Luther only bares his teeth, launching into furious, warning barks until they leave him to his grief. He belongs to Nigel. 

He will not move until Nigel comes home.

Seasons seem to blur. Luther grows terribly weak, his ribs beginning to show beneath his dull coat. His breath becomes shallow in the freezing air. 

One quiet night, shivering in the dirt, Luther slowly lets his heavy eyelids close. A crushing wave of guilt washes over his fading mind— he feels like he failed his human. He couldn't keep him safe. 

He couldn't bring him home.

His heartbeat stutters, slowing down... down... down... until a cold, heavy darkness swallows him whole.

Luther opens his eyes, a sharp gasp tearing through his chest. He immediately sniffs the air, and his nose fills with the deep, intoxicating, and completely familiar scent of his human.

He lets out a small whine of pure confusion and lingering pain. He does not understand what is happening. Didn’t he just go to that quiet, dark place where dogs go when their eyes close forever? Didn't his heart just stop?

Then why is his chest heaving? Why is his heart beating so loudly and strongly against his ribs?

He blinks against the darkness, and there he is. His human, Nigel.

Nigel looks exactly the same as he did on that awful night—the night he walked away and never returned. Everything is repeating perfectly. Just as it happened before, his human kneels down, says his heartbreaking goodbye, and stands up. Nigel grips the cold, heavy metal weapon, turns his back, and slips into the shadows to follow that red-haired boy.

No.

The word crashes through Luther’s canine mind like thunder. He cannot let his human go. He cannot let Nigel walk away into the darkness and never return. Not again. He remembers the cold dirt. He remembers the starving, agonizing weeks of waiting until his heart stopped. This time, Luther will save his human. He will save Nigel.

And so, Luther runs.

He thrusts his powerful legs forward, throwing his entire weight into a desperate, frantic sprint. His paws slam into the muddy earth, tearing up grass and gravel as he chases the fading silhouette of his master. He locks onto Nigel’s scent—that precious thread of winter wool and home—and refuses to let go.

Rain begins to pour, heavy and blinding, but Luther does not let the stinging water hinder him. His chest heaves violently, his lungs burning with an agonizing fire, and his tongue hangs out as he pants from the brutal effort. 

The freezing drops soak his fur, making him shiver to his very bones, but the phantom memory of his past failure drives him forward. His muscles ache, his paws bleed against the sharp rocks, but he keeps running, running, running through the suffocating dark.

He breaks through the tree line and arrives at the railway tracks.

He is barely in time.

The air here is thick, reeking of raw terror and a crushing sense of finality. Through the sheets of rain, Luther sees them. He sees Alex holding the weapon, but then his eyes dart to Nigel.

His human’s fingers are wrapping around the cold steel, tightening, desperately trying to pull the trigger himself. 

Nigel wants it to end.

Luther doesn't hesitate. He unleashes every ounce of strength left in his battered, aching body. His paws slip once on the wet platform before he launches himself through the air.

He does not jump between them—he lunges directly for the weapon. His powerful jaws snap shut around the cold metal barrel, his teeth grinding against the steel with fierce, desperate strength. 

With a violent yank of his heavy neck, he tears the shotgun completely out of their hands. The weapon flies through the air, clattering loudly against the iron tracks before sliding far away into the dark weeds where no one can reach it.

Instantly, Luther turns his massive body into a living shield. He drops his head, lets out a low, thunderous growl at Alex to force the red-haired boy back, and then turns entirely to his master.

He throws his heavy front paws onto Nigel’s shoulders, knocking his human back from the edge of the tracks. Luther presses his entire, shivering body against Nigel's chest, burying his wet nose into Nigel's neck. 

A deep, heavy rumble starts in his chest—a vibrating, desperate purr of pure relief. He licks the rain and tears from his human's face, his tail thumping a frantic rhythm against the ground. 

I have you. You are safe. I didn't leave you.

Nigel freezes, his chest heaving as the sudden, heavy weight of his dog pins him securely to the wet ground. Alex stands entirely paralyzed, his hands still shaped as if holding the weapon that Luther just ripped away and vanished into the dark weeds.

Both boys stare at the massive Rottweiler in absolute, breathless shock. Luther doesn't care about their confusion. He just keeps pressing his warm, soaking wet body into Nigel’s chest, his deep, rumbling purr vibrating through Nigel's ribs.

Slowly, the fog of despair clears from Nigel's eyes. He blinks through the downpour, looking at the dog who just defied every instinct to hunt him down and strip away his ultimate escape.

Across from them, the reality of the moment crashes over Alex like a tidal wave. He looks at his empty, trembling hands. He looks at Nigel pinned beneath the fiercely protective animal. A cold, suffocating terror grips Alex's throat as he realizes what almost happened—what he almost caused, and the irreplaceable person he almost lost forever because of his rejection.

A choked sob rips from Alex's chest. His knees give out, and he drops heavily into the mud right beside them. Tears stream down his face, mixing with the freezing rain.

Without thinking, Alex reaches out, his arms trembling as he wraps them tightly around Nigel’s shoulders, burying his face into Nigel’s neck.

Nigel stiffens for a fraction of a second before the dam breaks. He reaches up, gripping Alex's wet coat, pulling him close as a matching wave of ragged, painful tears spills from his own eyes. The two boys cling to each other in the pouring rain, shaking violently, their shared cries cutting through the sound of the storm.

“I’m sorry,” Alex chokes out through his tears, his voice raw and desperate. He holds Nigel tighter, as if trying to fuse their souls together so Nigel can never slip away again. “I’m so sorry, Nigel. I won't reject you. I won't ever push you away again. I promise. I promise I’m here.”

Nigel just nods against Alex's shoulder, his fingers gripping the fabric of Alex's shirt like a lifeline, letting all the darkness wash away in the warmth of Alex's embrace.

Luther sits right beside them, a quiet, magnificent guardian in the dark. He pants softly, his tail giving a slow, satisfied thump against the wet gravel. He watches them with bright, intelligent eyes. 

He doesn't smell fear anymore. He doesn't smell the metallic tang of death or the bitter scent of rejection. The air now smells like raw honesty, relief, and a deep, binding love. 

He did it. He saved his human's heart.

After a long, tearful moment, the two boys slowly pull back just enough to look at each other. Their faces are stained with tears and rain, but the cold distance between them is entirely gone. Nigel leans forward, and Alex meets him halfway. 

They press their lips together in a deep, heartfelt, and desperate kiss—a silent vow that they belong to each other, bound together tightly in the shadows.

When they finally break apart for air, their gazes simultaneously drift down to the heavy paws resting near their knees. They remember their silent savior.

Nigel smiles through his lingering tears, a sound of pure, unadulterated love escaping his throat. He reaches out and pulls Luther’s massive head close, burying his face into the dog's thick, wet fur.

“You saved us,” Nigel whispers fiercely, his voice cracking with emotion. “Such a good boy. Luther, you are the best boy. You are such a good boy.”

Alex wipes his eyes, looking at the great animal with an entirely new expression. The fear and jealousy he felt earlier that night at the gate vanished completely, replaced by a profound, overwhelming gratitude. 

For the first time, he doesn't see a territorial beast or an 'it'—he sees a loyal protector.

“Thank you, Luther,” Alex says softly, a gentle, watery smile breaking across his face as he reaches out his hand.

Luther perks his ears up at the sound of his actual name from the red-haired boy. He lets out a soft, happy huff and leans his head right into Alex's palm, accepting the stroke. 

Nigel chuckles, wrapping one arm around Alex and the other tightly around Luther, holding his two favorite creatures close to his chest in the dark, healing rain.

The storm slowly loses its fury, turning the heavy downpour into a soft, quiet drizzle. The three of them finally stand up from the muddy tracks, their bodies exhausted but their hearts entirely changed.

Nigel walks in the middle, his hand locked tightly in Alex's grasp. Their fingers are intertwined, a silent anchor against the cold night air. 

Alex presses close to Nigel’s side, keeping his promise, his shoulder brushing against Nigel's with every single step they take.

Right beside them trots Luther. His head is held high, his ears perked up, and his heavy tail sways in a slow, victorious rhythm. The phantom chill of his old life in the crawlspace has vanished completely, replaced by the warm, pulsing strength of a second chance.

He guides them out of the dark woods, keeping his massive body positioned like a shield between his humans and the rest of the world.

As they round the corner and the familiar iron gates of the estate come into view, Nigel stops. He looks down at the dog who defied time and death just to keep him whole.

Nigel slips his hand from Alex's for just a brief second to reach down, his fingers sinking into the thick fur behind Luther's ears. He gives a gentle, affectionate squeeze.

“Let’s go home, boy,” Nigel murmurs softly.

Luther lets out a deep, happy huff that fogs up in the cool air. He leans into the touch for a moment before trotting ahead to lead them through the gates. As the front door opens and they all step inside out of the cold, Luther knows his long watch is finally over. 

His human is safe, his family is whole, and they are all home.