A/N: Well, here it is! Final chapter! Thank you very much for the reviews and I'm so grateful for everyone who has been with me every step of the way (and even though who joined me halfway/may be reading this in the future)! Warning, this chapter wasn't proofread and there will likely be mistakes, but I wanted to get this out before it became September 25th (I started this when I was 17 and I'm finishing it while I'm 17, even if I turn 18 in about an hour). Enjoy though!

Chapter Thirteen

She twitched with the urge to look back and see if he was okay, but survival instincts held her in place, eyes locked with the Minotaur's. It was startled by her strength; she hadn't fought back before, held back by her injuries and her desire to keep an ally, a friend, safe from harm, but now that she hit it, she could see it scanning her, trying to determine how dangerous she would be to its success.

The bigger question was its success to what and Diana ached to ask, but like her survival instincts held her still, the way it looked at her kept her mouth shut. Those eyes… They weren't normal eyes by any means, but they were bright and intelligent and so human. They made her dizzy, but worse, they made her conflicted because while a good portion of her screamed kill it, the other portion didn't even let her reach for the glint of the sword near her feet.

She waited for it to attack, but the Minotaur didn't move, a look in his eyes that confused her.

Blinking rapidly against the hypnotic effect of its eyes, Diana found her tongue again and she didn't know what she planned on saying until the words began to slip from her mouth. "My people have a saying: "Don't kill if you can wound, don't wound if you can subdue, don't subdue if you can pacify, and don't raise your hand at all until you've first extended it." She held her hand, feeling calmness sweep over her and when its eyes flickered to her hand, confusion in its eyes, Diana smiled reassuringly. "We don't have to fight."

There was no reason to fight it, Diana could reason with it. She had almost done so earlier before something attacked it and the Minotaur seemed to think it was Bruce; Diana had a good idea who it was, but she fought the urge to look around and check. They were stood on a sword's edge, a single move could tilt them in the wrong direction. They kept their eyes locked, blue and brown, the Minotaur oddly silent, contemplating her move.

Diana. For a silly moment, she thought it was the Minotaur talking to her with powers that her sisters never mentioned it possessing, but it was frowning, head tilted. It heard, but it didn't know what said that. Or maybe it didn't know what that meant.

Look here. It didn't specify where, but Diana knew instinctively that it was behind the Minotaur.

Don't look, she told herself, both annoyed and unnerved by the bewitching voice in her head.

Look, it urged.

She kept her face blank, but her hand by her side tightened into a fist, shaking from the effort to contain every ounce of emotion in one limb, to keep smiling at somebody who had definitely hurt Bruce and done something to Clark. That something, she didn't know, just that one punch was enough to knock the invincible kryptonian out. Almost like magic.

Diana, look here, the voice sang in a hauntingly beautiful voice, trying to drag her eyes away. It knew, like her, that something was going to happen the moment she did so, something bad. And yet, there was something there, something that Diana badly wanted to see. Did she dare take a tiny peek? She didn't think that would hurt much, the creature wouldn't even know if she stood a little taller, if she looked passed it just a tiny-

No, she thought firmly, not sure how she was doing it, but pushing the voice back with all her strength. "We don't have to fight," she repeated. "What do you want? I can help you."

The Minotaur blinked and she thought it made a noise. Was it laughing at her? She recalled the emotion from earlier, the ones flickering in its eyes that she hadn't understood at the time. Were those emotions amusement? Was it just playing with them, making them think they stood a chance?

Two of the trinity down, one left to go. The voice was fainter this time, Diana wouldn't have even heard it if she hadn't felt something moving in her head, trying to get through the defenses she erected around her mind when she pushed back. She pushed again, not sure of how she did it, but imagined a mass of energy, like a shield, forcing it back and away.

There was a grunt and a grumble of words that Diana couldn't decipher. Diana blinked at the Minotaur, head tilted in confusion. Seeming to realize that she couldn't understand, it stared at her forcibly, trying to convey its thoughts in its eyes, but Diana couldn't understand that anymore than she could understand what it was saying before.

The Minotaur twitched as though to attack, but then she realized that it was just breathing heavily, its shoulders rising and falling with the deep breaths it took. Like a frustrated human. "Home," it said after a long pause.

"You want to go home?" She didn't know if it meant the Labyrinth or somewhere in Greece, but knew that only one of those was an option. Unless…

"New... Home."

"You want a new home?" Diana asked carefully, a plan occurring to her. It nodded its headed and she chewed on her lip, debating. "You can't take your kids with you, they can't be reasoned with yet."

It nodded again.

"They listen to you?"

It nodded.

"Will you send them back where they came from if I give you a new home?" It replied positively and she smiled, smiling in relief. "Send them back for now."

It hesitated here, but Diana found that she could read it like a book now, like its words had pushed away all the animalness to it that had been misleading Diana before. It was torn between disbelief and hope. It mustn't have ever had hope. She recalled only about a week ago, when Bruce had first asked her about the key and what the Amazons knew of it.

Like any of us would wish that beast upon the world, she had said. The words brought a pang of guilt to her stomach now. No, it never had any hope, she didn't even think it had a name.

The Minotaur threw its head back and the noise haunted her far more than any other roar could have done. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't mad - it was sad, a mixture of every bad thing that happened to a person put into one horrible sound. She wondered if that was how it felt to send its children away, to not take them with it, or if that was just how it felt in general, but the thought was too sad to think on for longer than a few seconds. She closed her eyes briefly, but chanced a glance behind her.

Bruce was sitting up, leaning back against the roof's ledge, his exposed jaw and mouth expressionless. With his cowl on, Diana could tell if he was awake or not from a simple glimpse, but his chest rose and fell with each of his breaths and that was enough to shake away her apprehension. Trying to ignore the continuing cry, she walked slowly to him, crouching by him and examining his side. His hand was fisted around a torn piece of his cape, pressing firmly against the wound, and she moved it, replacing it with her own.

"How deep?" She asked, positive he was awake.

"Deep enough," he replied simply, letting his hand drop to his side. "I just need to bind it until we're done here."

She didn't hesitate to rip a long strip from his cape. "You'll find another one," she said unnecessarily when his lips twitched with shaky laughter. The most difficult part of wrapping it around him was lifting him from the wall, where he gritted his teeth and grunted in a way that told her how painful this was for him. Tying it tightly, but careful to not make it worse, Diana began to set him down gently when the cry abruptly stopped.

Both their eyes flashed up to the Minotaur, who held its head in its hands, a strangled moan coming from its lips as it shook, slowly at first, then shaking as though it was little more than a leaf in the wind. She stood up, placing herself in front of Bruce; distantly, she was aware of him pulling himself up, using the roof's ledge to hold him up.

"What's-" She started to ask until a flash of color caught her eye and she growled. "Circe."

Circe smiled; her beautiful face was unmarked and there was a flush of color to her cheeks that hadn't been there earlier, no trace of a wound on her body although a tear in her armor said that it had been quite real. Her finger was pointed at the Minotaur; it moaned, writhing and holding its head. "You know, I thought if I let it out, it would go on a rampage, just give it a nightmare of all the trauma it suffered and it would just… But I guess things never go according to plan, do they? Part one didn't, part two isn't either. You're certainly making my job difficult, Diana."

"What game are you playing?" Diana demanded, beginning to understand the flash of light that had given away Bruce's position and the voice in her head that had been trying to make her break eye contact from the Minotaur. It didn't explain, however, why Circe was doing this. What did she gain from killing the people of Metropolis?

"Game? No, don't assume that I'm like that foolish mortal- that Joker- I don't play little games. I just wanted to end you, I didn't care about any of this, I just wanted revenge. But then that spell went wrong and I needed answers, I needed to know if I won… Well, I found out, but everything comes with a price, especially when you do a deal with a demon," she said carelessly, fiddling with the ends of her ponytail. The smile on Circe's face confused her; she didn't dare look away from her to see what Bruce thought, but she could guess that he was incredulous like her. "When Lex Luthor was given to me, I used him to my advantage, he paid off some very powerful people to handle the asylum for my distraction while the Joker got the key."

It wasn't like Circe to monologue, but Diana kept silent, edging forward until she stood directly behind the sword.

"I got the key, I got the sword. Why get the sword if I wanted to turn this thing into a killer?" She emphasised her words by twisting her hand and the Minotaur shuddered, knees buckling beneath it. "After its goal was accomplished, it was supposed to die. By your hands or by mine, I didn't particularly care, I have no need for the magic it possesses, but it was supposed to be the… announcement that things had gone according to plan. Oh, I guess I'll have to think of something else." The smile on her face twisted.

She's going to kill it, Diana realized, reaching for the sword when there was a flicker of golden light as the lasso - her lasso - wrapped around the Minotaur's neck. Beads of flames went from Circe's hands, down the golden lasso, spreading over the Minotaur's flesh. Bruce closed his hand around her elbow, pulling her away; she hadn't even realized that her hand was no longer reaching for the sword, but towards the lasso as though to rip it away. She reminded herself that it was unbreakable, but couldn't over that haunting scream, couldn't think of anything but being unable to save somebody.

"There was nothing you could do," he whispered, frowning as the lasso slackened now that its captive was charred and slumped. Even though the screaming stopped, she still heard it in her head.

Diana didn't know if the cold rage creeping up her spine was from the knowledge that her lasso had killed something or that Circe had killed something that Diana had tried to save, something that could have turned a new leaf if it was offered an ounce of kindness. Her vision was filled with red, her hands shaking by her sides until something cool pressed against them; a hand was holding her fist, trying to smooth out her rage like it were inconvenient wrinkles.

"How dare you," she said coldly as Circe began to laugh, attaching the lasso to a loop by her side. No doubt that was where the sword had once laid, but now it was no longer needed, just a useless chunk of metal that lay by her feet.

Circe shrugged. "I wouldn't be so worried about it and more worried about yourself. After all, I have all the power here, isn't that right? You weren't even a challenge at complete strength with Batman as your ally, now you're both injured; you don't stand much of a chance."

She had forgotten about her wound in those long moments, even if each breath reminded her of it, but Diana didn't chance a glance down to see how it was doing. What would Circe do in that second if she did? It had only taken a brief moment for her to kill the Minotaur, she didn't want to be the owner of such a grisly death as well. The only worse way to die would to have that sword cutting her in half- The sword! It would wound Circe; it already had done so already! She felt almost giddy, knowing a way out of this situation without risking injury to either of them.

Unfortunately, the sword stood between them and Diana didn't doubt that in the moment it took for Diana to reach the sword, Circe would strike her or Bruce with a spell before Diana could react. She wished she could look at him; they were masters at silent communication, he would read her plan in her eyes with only one look, but she couldn't look at him for the same reason she couldn't look at her wound. But there was another way, one that was looking more convenient by the moment.

Batman, she thought, visualizing him in her head. The curve of his jaw, the flash of his teeth when he grinned, the look of his lips when they moved and the feel of them when she kissed them. She didn't dare picture anything that would reveal him as Bruce Wayne, suddenly afraid of how easily Circe had gotten into her head before, but she thought hard of the things of him that were firmly Batman until she felt it.

She never knew when he was in her head until he spoke something that he had picked from her thoughts. This time she could feel it though. Unlike Circe, this wasn't a hard and unrelenting push, but a brush to announce his presence, so gentle and fleeting that it couldn't have been the same man. The sword, she thought hard, and for good measure, she sent along an image of it in the rubble between them and a reminder of the wound Circe had sustained earlier.

She wasn't sure if he got it or not until he began to speak. "What changed?" He asked harshly, managing to stand beside her and not even swaying with the effort it required of him. "You were going to send it on a rampage, why not set it off again? Just hit it again, like you did with me, and it would have gotten us both. What changed?" He had, apparently, come to the same conclusions as her about who had attracted the Minotaur to him.

"What changed? Obviously, you know, since you were the reason it didn't do anything. When I threw that spell, I expected you to die, Diana, but, of course, I didn't chance on him mucking up the spell when he threw that, if he had just delayed a second longer and you would have been a goner." Diana knew this already, but hearing it verbalized gave her a headache and a gratefulness for allies that didn't let each other face enemies alone.

Bruce moved toward her as though he was trying to get closer to her words, but Diana understood what he was doing when he stood in front of her and the sword.

Circe continued, unaware of Diana creeping forward during her ranting. "Then, to make it worse, instead of breaking off of you completely, your soul just decided to attach to the two nearest vessels. It wasn't supposed to do that!"

"Two?" She asked, unable to stop it, freezing in her tracks. At the same time, Bruce said, "Two?"

"You," Circe replied slowly, as though talking to someone particularly dumb, her attention firmly on Bruce. Diana began to move again, shielded by Bruce's tattered cape and imposing figure, she pulled the sword from the rubble. It fit perfectly in her palms. "-And me. Now I can't even try to kill her again because as long as she's tied to both of us, she can't die unless the majority does! I'd have to kill her… and you." This, she said dangerously low, and Diana knew, as she did before, that Circe was going to kill him.

Unlike last time though, Diana wasn't going to let it happen. Three things happened at once: Circe began to speak with a sickly green light crackling in her palms, Bruce began to move from his spot, and Diana swung up, the sword glinting in the rising sun. She brought it down before Circe could defend itself and blood sprayed from the jagged wound across Circe's chest as the witch whimpered, falling back a step, then two.

Her spell fizzled and died the moment her knees gave out. "You… think this is enough to stop me? I'm going to kill you both," Circe panted, trying to assuage the blood. Her threat didn't bother them as much as it would have a few seconds ago, though Diana felt shaken by how easily it would have been to kill her instead. She stabbed the sword into the concrete to take it out of her hands, unsure of how much of her rage had been doused.

Bruce smiled grimly. "No, but this will be enough to stop you until we can find out a new place for you. I imagine Arkham wouldn't hold you."

Diana wasn't sure what to do with her actually. She began to suggest taking her to Themyscira to petition one of the Gods on what to do with her when the earth began to shake. "Don't tell me they are coming back," Diana said, frowning in the direction she knew the minotaurs had come from, until she saw it.

The air behind Circe began to crack, like fingers were prying it open, until Diana was staring at a large, rectangle piece of darkness where the sky had once been. It was only dark for a moment, before flames began to spill out, too fast and snakelike to be anything except a type of magic; for a second, she thought they were coming for them. She already reached for Bruce, preparing to get away, when they ensnared around Circe's ankles.

She stopped reaching for him and began to reach for her, but it was spreading too fast, the flames going from her ankles to her thighs in seconds. Circe didn't scream; they didn't appear to be hurting her. "No," she moaned instead, trying to pull them off, trying to pull it off. They didn't relent and her voice grew louder as she spoke to somebody that neither of them could do. "No! I can do this! Stop, please, I'm not done! I'm not done!"

Diana landed beside her, trying to rip them from the tight grip they had around Circe's throat, but while the flames didn't hurt Circe, they certainly hurt her. They burned at her fingers like sharp bites and she retracted them instantly when they tried to creep up her arm as well, watching in horrified fascination as Circe became entirely obscured by the flames. They didn't kill her and retreat as Diana expected them to, but began to pull her back, dragging her, tightening along the way and finally, finally, bringing the screams that Diana knew were coming.

Circe was pulled into the darkness and her screams cut off abruptly when the darkness slammed shut like a door. There was ringing silence, only the charred and bloodied ground where Circe stood as proof that she was even there.

"You're explaining this one," Bruce said suddenly, looking weary and annoyed. She almost smiled in response.

As it turns out, Bruce didn't have to explain any of this to the rest of the league, but not because he just refused to do it. Once the situation had calmed down, the two had searched for Superman and requested a teleport back to the Watchtower that Bruce had passed out from the blood loss of a wound that he had repeatedly told Diana was "Fine, stop asking! Please." whenever she bugged him about getting checked out.

Two days later, she sat in the infirmary, in a private room in the very back where only founders were allowed in to keep Bruce's identity a secret, reading over only a tenth of the mountain of paperwork demanding her attention from the embassy, barely managing to process any of the words through her blinks. It had been a long few days, having to explain multiple times what had happened on the rooftop to people who were confused on the minotaurs sudden retreat. None of them seemed to believe that simply talking to it would have sent it on its way, but Diana saw the humanity in its eyes, the pain in its roars to get its family to retreat, and the pain it felt as it died.

Eventually, they saw her way, even if it took a few stern warnings and painfully specific description of everything that happened.

Thankfully, there were no lasting injuries, just a few broken bones ; even Diana's wound had begun to heal within minutes after the Minotaur got a lucky shot. Still, she would have to be careful. The worst was Bruce, who hadn't woken up yet, but she was assured by J'onn that this was to be expected, that he couldn't heal as fast as the rest of them, especially with the blood loss and the infection a few hours later.

She pressed her palm against her eyes, a headache building there. It wasn't from being tired, although that played a part, but from her frequent attempts at looking at her mind, searching for Bruce or Circe's presence with some help from J'onn in his free time. Nobody knew the mind as well as him, but it still took some effort to look that deeply. Still, one thing came from all this: she could sense Bruce easily and she couldn't sense Circe at all.

She assumed distance was the reason for that originally, but after a few hours of testing the distance of their bond, Diana knew without a doubt that Circe was dead. After all, how else would she have gotten to Themyscira without succumbing to that excruciating pain? There wasn't even a twinge of that now and the only time she could recall feeling so light was the first time she began to fly. She wasn't bound to him anymore and it was liberating to hold her own once more. A bit scary too, she wasn't sure if being stuck together had been a reason for them to be together on a more… romantic level, but until he was awake, she couldn't really forbid him from ending things without trying.

It would take too much effort to stop now, Diana.

If she hadn't been looking at him, she would have thought that he had spoken aloud, but his lips hadn't moved even if his eyes had opened. Bruce stared at her. She stared at him. It was, she thought, weird to have another voice in her head that wasn't her own.

Likewise, he responded, frowning intently. Aloud, he said groggily, "How long have I been here?"

"About two days."

"Go on, say it, I know you want to."

Her lips twitched and she set her papers aside to lean her elbows on his bed, moving closer to him. "I told you to get your wound checked out."

"It seemed fine at the time," he said dryly, blinking rapidly in an effort to stay awake. He wouldn't have been Bruce if his next words weren't immediately business related."Did I hear right? She's dead?"

Her smile faded to a grimace. "Most likely, although I doubt we'll ever know for sure. I guess her other ally isn't one to tolerate failure and before you ask, I've looked into who it could be, I can only assume that it was Hades or that it was Ares. We probably won't know for sure until one of them says something." Not that would stop her from trying. Not only did she want to know who had, most likely, killed Circe or who had indirectly killed the Minotaur, but she needed to get her lasso back.

It was just like Circe to be a nuisance in the afterlife as well.

"We'll find it," he promised.

"That's going to take some getting used to, you know, and we're going to have to set boundaries about peeking into the other's thoughts. I'm willing to share my life with you, but you need the privacy of your thoughts and I need the privacy of mine," she pointed out, grinning. "Besides, you'd get sick of all the ways I insult you when I need to vent."

He laughed, but stopped when it pulled the stitches on his wound and said with a wince, "I think that's a fair deal." Bruce shifted on his pillows, already looking like he wished to be home.

She raised her brow. "I think a deal implies that we both get something. I'm getting privacy, what do you want?"

"I'll think of something good and let you know in the future," he said simply.

"I don't know if I like the sound of that. I think I'm going to tell Alfred about this and about how you refused to get treated for your wound next time I see him," she teased, tapping his exposed hand. It was a calculated risk on her part to mention Bruce's butler and practical surrogate father, implying that she would someday soon be at the manor to speak with him.

At first, he didn't respond, his eyes locked on her face. She wasn't sure what he was seeing or if he was just looking through her, but she didn't dare interrupt his thought process, knowing that Bruce needed to be in on their decision one hundred percent or they would go nowhere. An eternity later, but really only a few seconds, he shook his head at her. Her stomach dropped, but her face didn't betray any emotion. "And if you do, I'll tell him that you aren't resting your wound then he'll be mad at both of us. Do we really want that?"

She laughed and no more was said on that topic. They would have ages to figure things out.

The funny thing about change is that they can't ever change too much. Almost immediately, Diana got used to the swing of things at the Embassy and at the League once more, though it took a good week to go through the mountains of paperwork she had before she could even speak to Bruce. He faced the same issues though so it didn't particularly matter; he had catching up to do as Batman, but even more to do as Bruce Wayne, womanizing playboy who just happened to admit to the press a few days prior that he was seeing someone privately.

She hadn't been able to go over to Wayne Manor to thank him properly until today and she found that the moment she stepped foot in the manor, it was like things were the same as when she left. Alfred greeted her fondly when she came up to the front door, dressed in her Diana Prince attire rather than her Wonder Woman, and when she spotted Tim, he offered a poite, but suspicious nod. Bruce, on the other hand, kissed the top of her hand, winking at her when Tim made a face and looked away.

He waited until he was gone before he actually kissed her.

"Stop teasing him," she muttered breathlessly when he let her go.

He shrugged, kissing her again. She didn't complain, since she had missed him as much as he seemed to miss her.

"His grades are down, there are worse punishments than being a little embarrassed. Although, he'll be much more so when he realizes who you are." He rolled his eyes. In his opinion, Tim should have figured it out after only a few minutes of seeing her.

"He doesn't have as much time with Wonder Woman as your alter ego does," she pointed out, knowing that he was thinking about that. "Can't fault him for that. You haven't really opened up to him about the league, have you?"

"Not particularly," he admitted, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and dropping his chin on her shoulder. "I don't want him to think of joining the League anytime soon. Gotham is dangerous enough."

"He's definitely going to ask now. Besides, weren't you the one that added a new rule to the League to keep children from joining until they reach age eighteen?" She asked, tapping his hand around her waist. He released her and she began to walk, knowing that it was about time that Tim knew the truth. She didn't feel quite right about lying to him when she was supposed to promote truth and almost all of the childish anger had disappeared.

At least until they went into the dining room where Tim was doing his homework. Things didn't change much around here and everyone tended to sit in the same seats; this was a nice routine, but it was also predictable and allowed for a variety issues.

Like the chair breaking as soon as she sat down. She squeaked in surprise and again when her bottom hit the floor with a loud crash; Tim looked up, mildly interested, but his eyes gleaming too much for him to be an innocent bystander and Bruce stared, bewildered, at her chair for half a second until he switched his gaze to Tim.

They both fixed him with a dark look. He looked back and forth. "What?" He asked seriously, his face blanking, but it faded to horror when Alfred came into the room, drawn over by the noise.

"What in- Your Highness! I apologize, I didn't realize I raised wolves here," he said immediately, a frown on his face as he helped her to her feet.

"Your… Highness?" Tim repeated, confused.

"Yes, Master Timothy. That is the way you are to address royalty," he said crisply.

"And you know it's not required, Alfred, calling me Diana is just fine," she added, crouching beside the pieces of the chair, grateful that nothing was actually broken, but taken apart quite carefully and furthering her opinion that it was all Tim's fault.

"I don't understand… I thought you were just…" Tim was standing up now, looking very confused, but very unconcerned about pulling a prank on somebody he just learned was royalty. That was brave, she thought, but also quite stupid.

That's how we operate around here sometimes, Bruce thought back, a grin showing on his face outwardly. It was strange to see him in such a good mood, but Diana figured out the reason when he took the pieces from her hands, put them on the table, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Tim, let me introduce you to Princess Diana." He paused here and there was far too much satisfaction in watching the light bulb go off over Tim's head. "People also call her Wonder Woman, but that's probably not the best way to speak of her around the manor. The last thing we need getting out is Bruce Wayne is dating Wonder Woman, that would be a media nightmare, they are already hounding me about who it is."

Tim sank into his chair. "You're… joking, right?" He asked weakly, rubbing his eyes.

"No," all three of them chorused. Diana went a step further by floating a foot off the floor, grinning at him. It might have been impolite to laugh when his faced turned red as a tomato and he left the room, but it was entirely too satisfying to see it. Of course, she would have to get revenge on him and then she imagined he would get revenge on her. She didn't picture this ending anytime soon.

"Come on, Tim can fix that later, I think this room has seen enough for today," Bruce said, amused as he lead her from the room. "I think we've all seen enough excitement for a little while, actually."

"That comes with the territory of being superheroes, Mr. Wayne," she laughed. They both knew that this quiet time wouldn't last for long, something would need one or both of them of them eventually, but at the end of the mission, they would find each other. That was enough sometimes.

A/N: So there you go folks, that's the end! I started this as an experiment, expecting it to be four to five chapters of fluff, some plot, and me learning how to write these characters as my first step into the JL-universe so it came to a surprise to me that it came along this far. I did enjoy writing the majority of it, even if towards the end things got a little rocky and I had time getting what I imagined down into words, but I'm still quite proud of it! I left a few things open for a possible sequel, but I can't say when that one will be started. By popular demand, my next story will be Secret Identities and I hope to have the first chapter in a couple of days so keep an eye out!

Alright, time for the final review plead! Tell me the good, the bad, and the ugly of this story (what I could have done more with, whether I kept the characters in character, what part of the plot you wished to see more of, what part you liked to see less of, etc)! While I will respect all your opinions, I also request that nobody attacks me for how I've written a character and instead make suggestion about how YOU see that character reacting in certain situations, I will be ignoring the reviews that want to attack me rather than offering advice/comments about how the story went. Just a warning :)

Thank you very much and I hope to see you in the future!