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xxacademy · 5 days

Text

Throne of His Own

This fic is inspired & adapted from chapter 42 of A Court Of Mist And Fury, by Sarah J. Maas. Plot is original, but I took heavy influence from the events of that scene. <3

Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)

18+ MDNI !!

Summary: Being sent to a rural French village to go undercover with a band of vampires was strangely typical for your line of work— But, pretending to be lovers with another agent was anything but typical. Adapting yourself from a trained agent to a submissive lover unfolds in an unexpected series of events.

Word count: 10.2k

Content warnings: smut, AFAB anatomy, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, pet names, slightly mean possessive Leon (only when he has to be), alcohol consumption, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil (like mentions/ use of weapons).

a/n: somewhere, deep in the void, this was intended to be about 2k words, just a little one shot... but now here we are, lol. anyways thank you guys for being so patient, and thank u to my besties on here for being so kind and understanding. life is crazy, and truly i cannot keep up as consistently as i’d like to. i will always be here, even if i take some long breaks here & there. i love all u resident evil obsessed freaks, my life wouldn’t be the same without u xx also i finally decided to not be lazy & do the cute colored letters i hope u enjoy hehe

— PART I —

You peered out the window as you were driven through the endless sprawl of the snow-covered French countryside. A blur of powdery white pines occasionally broken up by small villages nestled into the hills.

Behind all those tall trees were the ragged peaks of the hulking French Alps, so expansive they nearly cut the sky in half. The beauty and stillness of winter was in full effect. Every little village had plumes of warming smoke gathering above the chimneys.

The agent driving the car interrupted your silent musing over the scenery. "You'll have to hike in. It's about 5 miles to the village, but we can't risk getting too close."

With one hand still on the wheel, he reached for the center console, pulled out a large envelope, and tossed it in your lap.

"There you'll find the information you need. Your partner, Leon Kennedy, has been undercover, posing as one of them."

Your voice is monotone, almost disinterested. "And who's them?"

"Some parasite-infected blood suckers. Leon has described them as a vampiric blood cult or something."

"And I'm just expected to waltz into all this? A blood cult? Really?"

"He talked about having a lover, a woman he returned home to, and at the time, it was just banter to fit in with them. But the cultists want to meet her. Either they're getting suspicious, or they want to play ball. Regardless, this served as a rather interesting opportunity to give Leon backup. So here you are."

Your knuckle rests below your bottom lip; you watch as the sun begins its descent below the icy mountain peaks.

So here I am.

You and one of the few other survivors of Raccoon City. You've met him, sure, but you have yet to work alongside him. But, you'd always known the day would come.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You were driven as far as the meandering forest service road would allow. Ahead of you, where the road was no more, towering evergreens had taken over. Their limbs were heavy with packed snow, creating a dense cover over the forest. Only a sliver of the remaining purple-tinted dusk made it through the trees.

"This is where you're on your own. Here are the coordinates for where you'll meet up. Just stay north until you find an abandoned barn. That's where he'll be."

You nod in understanding, equipping your array of weapons—a rifle on your back, a pistol on your hip, and a machete on the other.

"We'll have you out before the end of the week," the agent said, helping you put your pack on.

"I'll count my blessings," your face was solemn as you faced the trees, attempting to size up what lay ahead.

"Well then, you're set. The best of luck to you." a sympathetic smile formed on the agent's lips as he stepped back into the car.

Without hesitation, you departed into the cold, dark wilderness.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Seven miles may not have been a lot for you, but Seven miles of trekking through uncharted backcountry in the dark of winter was. You were chilled to the bone, and the numbness of your limbs limited your mobility ten-fold.

The thick undergrowth of the forest only got denser as you progressed, and your machete-wielding arm throbbed with every strike.

You stumbled up an embankment. With every step, loose, powdery snow slipped underneath your winter boots. Each sharp breath you took appeared as mist, illuminated by your headlamp.

As you finally reached the crest of the hill, you spotted a dilapidated barn at the base. It was nestled underneath a skeletal weeping willow tree. As you moved closer, you noticed half of its roof had caved in. Just one billow of wind could send the thing toppling.

You made your way down the slope, encroaching on the barn. You pulled out your pistol and dimmed your headlamp just to be safe.

Focusing on sound, you surveyed the area for footsteps, rustling, or speaking.

There was not a peep to be heard. Aside from the occasional whisper of wind, the surrounding forest was eerily quiet.

The crunch of the snow under your boots was frustratingly loud as you circled the barn's perimeter, searching for traps.

To your surprise, you peeked through a frosty window and saw the dull glow of a lantern, and a man sat beside it.

He was bundled head to toe in fur-lined clothing similar to your own. His eyes flicked up, and they met with yours. Without speaking, he signaled you in.

You couldn't recall what he looked like, but you remember a distinctly boyish look despite him being around your age when the incident happened. But the person who stood before you was a lot different.

This man is rugged and muscular. His cheekbones are much more pronounced, and his pale blue eyes are set deep in their sockets. Gentle yet battle-hardened. All that boyishness has dissipated.

"Leon," he said, stretching a gloved hand toward yours.

You stuttered your name through shivering lips, your hand meeting Leon's in a firm shake.

His tactful eyes scanned you, assumedly noting how cold you were.

"We really should get going. I've been holed up in a cabin only a few miles from here."

"Gladly, I'm freezing my ass off."

Without any further small talk, Leon leads the way, setting out once again for the dark, unforgiving woods.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

"Make yourself comfortable; I'll get a fire going," Leon said, opening the door for you before heading back outside for firewood.

You threw your pack onto the ground beside the fireplace. The room was completely dark, except for the small path illuminated by your headlamp.

You fumbled a matchbook out of your pocket and started to light the myriad of taper candles around the cabin.

Warm candlelight flooded the room, illuminating the interior of the gothic-style cabin. It was constructed of dark, ashy wood—the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and everything else.

Eclectic, mismatched carpets overlapped each other. And dark red curtains pooled along the ornate windows.

He called it a cabin, but the interior was rather grand.

Your heavy .22 caliber rifle had been digging into your back for hours, so you peeled it off with a relieving sigh. As you set it down on the wooden dining table, it made a hollow metallic clunk. You stripped off your other heavy layers onto the table, like your machete and belt, but kept on your fur-lined outerwear. Inside wasn't that much warmer.

With a heavy boot, Leon kicked open the front door, cradling wood in his forearms. With him, a gust of snow flurries blew into the cabin. He again kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the wood beside the fireplace.

"The snow is picking up again. You got here at the right time," Leon said, striking a match and tossing it into a pile of kindling inside the stone hearth.

You sit on a deep red Victorian-style couch in front of the fireplace. You sighed and kicked your boots up onto the coffee table.

"You call this place a cabin?" You say as your hand brushes the fine velvet upholstery of the couch.

"Well, when you see the rest of this village, you'll see why this place is considered just a cabin."

"These cultists must be the extravagant type then, huh?"

Leon piled wood onto the roaring fire, the crackling glow illumining his features. He stepped back from the heat and faced you, pulling off his heavy jacket. "Yeah, to say the least. They're greedy fuckers with bloodlines full of wealth. These gaudy homes just scratch the surface."

"So, now my real question is—how did you weasel your way in? How are you seriously posing as a cult member?" You stretched your shaky hands towards the fire, desperate for warmth. "You can't be serious that you, an American, just waltzed into a French village and are pretending to play cultist," you said with heavy speculation, your stern eyes meeting his.

Leon's lip ticked, calm eyes unbreaking from yours.

"They have plenty of outlets funneling within the United States, which gave us the perfect opening. We intercepted communications from a faction of theirs based in the States and used them as a bleed for information. Eventually, it was requested that they, we, send over a high-ranking nobility to come to France to one, act as a messenger, and two, be part of their transformation ritual."

"And that's where you came in?"

Leon's face went grave.

"Yeah, I trained to be and act like one of them. I learned every piece of information we know about this narcissistic vampire cult and its deviant religion. I've had to change everything about my life and thinking to be here. It's been months kissing ass in the hope of more information."

The room was becoming increasingly warm, and you started to feel claustrophobic in your winter clothing. You began to shed your layers of outerwear.

"That sounds awful. I can't believe you've made it out here, alone, for so long..." you paused for a moment but resumed, "but please, tell me that it has been worth it."

The question loomed thick in the air as you struggled with your boots, eventually kicking them off and walking to the fire to warm your cold, damp feet.

You could really get a good look at Leon here. He wore a tight black shirt that emphasized his muscular build and black cargo pants. His complexation looked soft against the warm firelight, juxtaposing the intensity of his prominent features.

He, too, seemed to be taking in your appearance as you sauntered toward the light. What he was thinking about was absolutely unknown, as he remained stone-faced.

"It has," he said, breaking the silence. "It has been worth it."

Leon's eyes drifted to his hands as if in a trance.

"What we now know about the cultists can completely change the course of this fight. But as I push forward, it's not going to be easy. I don't think this is going to end smoothly. That's why I needed backup." Leon cleared his throat. But there is a catch, too."

His eyes darted up to meet yours. You tensed, straightening your back, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

"The king, that fucking king, wants me to bring my lover."

Although you were briefed on this situation prior, nothing could have prepared you for hearing it from him directly.

You laughed-- partly to ease the tension, but mainly because the mission-altering crux for the honored agent is his girlfriend.

"It's crazy, I know, but it couldn't be a more perfect invitation to bring another agent in." His cheeks flushed with the slightest hue of red.

"Please, tell me how you got into this situation in the first place". You tried to contain your laughter but failed.

Leon breathed an exasperated sigh.

"Well, the Lords, false prophets more like, banter about their romantic conquests. And well, after they all had drowned on about all the unsavory details, they looked at me, awaiting what story I had to tell."

"And what did you tell 'em?"

"I did what I had to do. I made up stories about having a girlfriend at home... And whatever else would keep them from asking too many questions."

You nodded.

"They also bring their women to the castle and flaunt them like furs. Sometimes, it's literally for their blood. Most of the time, it's just to stroke their own ego by having pretty women hanging off them." Leon added.

Of course, the power-hungry vampire kings saw women as conquests. Ultimately, it shouldn't surprising that it would come to this.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

It's been a long, long day.

You have all the information you need at this point, and the exhaustion is quickly overtaking you.

You yawn with outstretched arms, relaxing them to rub your heavy eyelids. Your body is finally warm, and you realize how well the bone-chilling cold kept you awake.

"I'll show you to your room," Leon said, helping you collect the things you dumped around the room. He led you down a darkened hallway to your bedroom.

"There are some clothes and a few other things you may need. If you need anything else, my room is just across the hall," he stated, setting your things down.

"Is there anything I need to know about tomorrow?" You added before Leon could step out of the room.

"You'll have the day to adjust. We'll go over the mission then. Just focus on resting up for now."

His lips came to a subtle smile, "Goodnight."

You smiled back, "Goodnight to you too."

You surveyed the room, starting with the armoire. It was full of clothes that looked like they were from another time: grand dresses with sheer, lacy fabrics of black and red with low sweeping necklines. There was also a long black hooded cape, corsets, and tall-heeled boots. The drawers below housed underwear and pajamas.

You slipped off your dingy clothes for a long black strappy nightgown from the armoire.

You hid your weapons around the room, your rifle, machete, and extra ammo in the closet, your knives in the vanity, and your pistol tucked under the mattress.

Like the rest of the decor, the bed was ornate. It was intricately carved out of the same ashwood as the cabin. The white sheets were plush and soft to the touch.

After securing your room, you crawled into bed. Falling almost immediately into sleep.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Blinding white winter's light singed your vision as you woke up in a panic, a persistent cracking noise echoed from outside. It was a splintering sound as if someone was trying to get in.

You stealthily crawled out of bed and cracked open the bedroom curtain to peer outside. Nothing of interest could be seen, only the quiet woods blanketed by fresh snow.

The woods were now illuminated by sunshine, making them appear significantly less intimidating than last night. That didn't make them any less haunting, though.

Pistol in hand, You tiptoed through the house in search of Leon. First, you knocked on his bedroom door, and when he didn't answer, you investigated the rest of the house.

There were no signs of Leon, only the smell of something cooking and the sound of that grating thudding noise echoing through the house.

You silently opened the front door and exited barefoot, the coldness of the snow against your skin sending shivers up your spine. The satin fabric of your nightgown offered no protection from the elements.

One step at a time, you sneaked around the side of the house. The thudding got louder with each pace, and your heartbeat raced with adrenaline.

Carefully, You rounded the corner to the source of the noise. Arms straight, gun drawn.

Leon's eyes, bewildered, raked your figure, and he huffed a laugh, "Good morning, super cop. You must be freezing."

He looked down the barrel of the gun before you put it down.

He was just chopping wood.

Clearly, your senses were on high alert. You felt embarrassed that something so trivial and ordinary ticked those mental alarms.

Defensively, you retorted, "Well, I'm not the one chopping wood in a creepy vampire town first thing in the morning! For God's sake, I thought someone was breaking in or attacking!" You huffed, crossing your arms, a once panicked stare turning to one of annoyance.

Leon dropped the axe in the snow, reaching for a large piece of wood.

"And coming outside, in the dead of winter, wearing only a nightgown would have made a difference?" Leon said with a smirk, but it dropped quickly as he again reached for the axe to chop another piece of wood.

"And a gun! You seemed to have missed that part, and what else was I supposed to do? Spend 10 minutes putting my gear on?" You argued with a pout. Muscles tensed as adrenaline melted away.

You were still waking up and not in the mood to argue. But yes, you definitely could have kicked ass in your pajamas.

"Okay, okay, I promise I'm done pestering you. Breakfast is on the stove. You should go eat."

Begrudgingly, you walked back inside, mumbling your frustrations to yourself. It's safe to say you're not a fan of rude awakenings.

While lounging on the couch, you ate the breakfast of eggs and bacon Leon had prepared. You flipped through your logbook, filling in everything that happened in the last 24 hours.

Leon opened the front door, shaking off his snow-covered clothing before entering. He'd been out there for hours, and it was evident in the sweat that lingered down the side of his forehead.

Standing in the foyer, Leon peeled off his brown fur-lined bomber jacket and casually pulled the sweat-drenched black t-shirt over his head.

You watched him from where you sat on the couch, a bit confused as he acted as if no one was around.

You got a glimpse of the toned plane that was his back. He stretched his arms out, unintentionally giving you a better view. He rolled out his sore shoulder blades for a moment, and you discreetly watched from the corner of your eye.

You stifled whatever the fuck that feeling was and resumed your logbook.

In an attempt to find some grievance, you cleared your throat. It was subtle enough not to seem suspicious but clear enough that Leon definitely heard you.

But you're sure he was aware of you the entire time.

Leon walked toward the hallway and said, "I have a business to take care of at the castle; when I get back, we'll go over what's expected for the mission tomorrow. You'll find the notebook I've kept about these people on the bookshelf. You should skim it to familiarize yourself."

He walked into the bathroom without waiting for your reply. The only sound was the door shutting behind him.

Leon had left to take care of his end of the mission, and you remained alone in the cabin for the rest of the day.

You bathed and changed into real clothes, skipping over the elaborate dresses in favor of the spare black jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt you packed.

You left your bedroom to head to the living room but stopped at Leon's door adjacent to yours.

You were curious about what his room looked like, and rightfully so. He was rather serious, not letting off much about his personal side. Even while working, other agents, like Jill Valentine, had more outward displays of self-identity.

You wondered what the man behind the agent's identity was like, But you respectfully kept walking.

Typically, you're not overly curious about your cohorts, But people like Leon and Jill lived through the same tragedy you did. You often felt alone in your pain, But you found a sliver of comfort in knowing that you, in fact, were not.

You flipped through the very detailed notes Leon had taken. He explained the parasite they intended to use for "world domination," the pecking order amongst the rulers, detailed maps of the castle, and whatever else he found out.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

"Hey, wake up," Leon said gently, nudging your shoulder.

You woke up sitting on the floor, arms crossed and body hunched over the coffee table.

Through blurry vision, you saw Leon beside you, wearing a fancy white dress shirt and a tie loose around his neck.

"What time is it?" You mumbled, sitting up to stretch out your very numb legs.

"Late—I got back about an hour ago, I made dinner if you're hungry."

Leon reached out a hand, and you took it. Grunting as he helped you up.

"Yeah, I am," You replied, your stomach grumbling.

You sat at the dining table with Leon. He prepared grilled veggies and chicken for dinner, which was surprisingly good.

"How'd it go," you asked between bites.

"Fine, everything is going according to plan. We're all set for tomorrow," Leon replied,

"What exactly are we doing tomorrow?" you raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you saw those dresses in your room. You'll have to wear one, but it's easy from there. You'll stay quiet and follow my lead. You'll have to act like my girlfriend. But it will also be a good time to familiarize yourself with the castle and, you know, memorize the layout."

Leon took a sip of wine and offered you a gentle look, "Are you okay with that?"

You replied, "Of course I am. It's a pretty small price to pay to take these fuckers down." You flashed a cheeky grin before taking a sip of your wine. "We got this."

You continued to talk over dinner, going back and forth and sharing each other's backgrounds. You told Leon about your experience in Raccoon City— what had happened and how you'd escaped it.

But for you, It was surreal hearing about Leon's involvement in the incident. Hearing about the people he saved, the enemies he took down, and the sacrifices he made were… Comforting.

Comforting to know someone else could actually relate to you.

Comforting to know there is hope.

You know there are scars deep below the surface—you know that from experience. But meeting someone who still cares so much about helping others proves that those wounds do, in fact, heal.

You and Leon cleaned up the kitchen before saying goodnight and heading to your rooms for the night.

You lay in your plush bed, unable to sleep. Your mind is whirring with a frenzy of emotions. Your conversation with Leon is still sinking in. The nerves concerning tomorrow's mission stake their claim.

It's okay. It's okay.

You try to soothe yourself. Suppress whatever unreconciled emotions were brought up.

Just finish the mission.

— PART II —

A beautifully lavish Victorian-style ball gown adorned your body. It has a flowing tiered skirt constructed from deep, blood-red satin. The bodice was corseted tightly to your abdomen, pushing your breasts up so that they are nearly spilling out of the gown's low square neckline. The quarter sleeves fit tightly but poof out at your elbows with frilly lace. The whole ensemble is accented with black bows and delicate lacework.

You watched yourself in the vanity mirror as you carefully pinned your hair up. Enchanted by the unfamiliar person the mirror reflected back.

This wasn't you. But a princess.

A princess who has never killed or witnessed the mass extinction of innocent people. A princess who didn't have to give up her normal life against her will.

Although seeing yourself dressed up like the beautiful person you'll never be was strange. But maybe, battle-scarred government agents could wear pretty dresses, sometimes.

With your hair set in place, you head to the living room, where you are met by Leon in an equally uncharacteristic outfit.

He took in your appearance, a smile decorating his face. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.

You filled the silence instead. "You look nice." You spoke softly.

He did look nice.

Leon wore a billowy white shirt with ruffles along the neckline. The plunging neckline had a small corset-style detail, and it was tucked into a pair of perfectly fitted black trousers.

Simple, but effectively good-looking. The fit of his clothes came off as rich and a little romantic. Well suited for a band of vampires.

"As do you," Leon said, voice deep and restricted.

You hid your face by looking down at your shoes, concealing the growing flush along your cheeks. "Thank you." You said in almost a whisper.

"Are you ready?" he asked, offering his arm to you.

You nod in affirmation and thread your arm through his.

Leon led you through a little stone path through the woods. At this time, it was only about an hour before dusk.

The combination of winter woods and the near-setting sun created an image of beautiful calm. If you were to let your mind wander, It would feel like you were on a date, taking a stroll through the forest.

"I told you these cultists were sick bastards, right?" Leon said too casually.

You nod, "Yes, you definitely mentioned that."

The dense woods begin to clear, and the path leads to a small village. At the horizon, the pointed spikes of a grand castle make a lethal appearance. You take it all in, honing yourself into a covert weapon. Descending into this "character" of unexpected harm.

"And you understand that how I'll behave tonight is all a part of the act?" Leon asks for your assurance one last time before entering the village.

Your heels land on the cobblestone that had been cleared of snow. The warm glow of the town's candlelight radiates as the sun begins to set.

Making brief eye contact with a villager, you squeeze Leon's arm a little tighter and murmur, "I could say the same to you, my lord." A wicked smile now painted your face.

Leon whispered lowly, "Glad to see you're committed to the bit."

As a pair, you two walked through the town's main pathway, a straight shot to the looming castle ahead. You noted that the townspeople were off.

Very, very off.

They behaved more like mindless zombies than people; their eyes glowed crimson red. Most of them just walked by idly, with no sense of purpose. Others stood hauntingly still, staring at you so intensely you felt it in your soul.

Even the farm animals that lingered on the streets were off. They walked erratically, and their eyes glowed, too.

This place gave you the creeps. Typical Umbrella.

Reaching the castle at last— It demanded your attention with its many oversized spires and massive arched windows. Light flowed red through the stained glass, adding to its intensity.

The snow-covered graveyard and cross-tipped spires informed you this wasn't just a castle but an unholy cathedral.

You had to walk through the graveyard to reach the entrance. You noted the tombstones engraved with outdated French names and dates as far back as the 1800s. It all added to the ancient terror surrounding the looming cathedral.

Upon arriving, the massive arched door began to creak open, and a man clad in a dark red suit greeted the two of you with a thick French accent. "Good evening, Sir Kennedy. We are so very pleased that you and your-" he paused, a sly smile forming, "madame, could make it."

Leon did not reply to the doorman.

He walked past with his head held high and eyes peering downwards. His look emanated superiority as if he had no interest in conversation with a man so far below him.

Leon grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, guiding you up the curved stairs that dominated the foyer.

You passed servants who wore simple, white, floor-length dresses with aprons and bonnets. Each servant stopped in their tracks to bow their head as you, he, walked past.

The action sent chills down your spine.

What was the true extent of power he reached in this so-called monarchy?

You arrived at a grand arched doorway swirled with ornamental gold detailing. Two men opened the doors in unison, letting you through.

Elegant music flooded the huge open ballroom. Orchestral pianos and violins serenaded your ears.

People waltzed, people drank wine, people talked, and the vampires watched.

On the dais, the looming darkness of men sitting on ornate thrones watched the every move of the people below.

Every seat was occupied except for one.

Everything suddenly stopped. The music went silent, and the people parted, bowing their heads down.

Slowly, you two approached the dais, Standing hand in hand at the steps. The man who sat in the centermost seat smiled devilishly. "Glad you could make it, Lord Kennedy." His French accent was thick.

Leon bowed his head. "Of course, your majesty."

"Why would you want to miss a ball as extravagant, as special, as this one, anyways? Lord Kennedy, we wouldn't want to disappoint our guest, wouldn't we?"

The Lord ticked an eyebrow, reaching a pale, lanky hand to you.

Leon's breath seized but quickly relaxed as he let go of your hand, hinting for you to accept.

You gracefully walked the steps, rhythmically breathing in and out to offset the heavy heartbeat that accompanied each step. The air loomed cold and silent as the echoes of your footsteps filled the hall.

The King was pale as fresh snow, with icy blue veins protruding from his skin. His eyes were glowing red, and long black hair cascaded down his shoulders to his chest. He wore an ornate gold, black, and red suit and a crown topped his head. He looked as if he was once very handsome, but now, he is not so good-looking.

You rested your hand on him, avoiding eye contact. His freezing touch sent a shiver through you.

The King lowered his head and placed a prolonged kiss on the back of your hand. His left hand grabbed your upper arm, turning it so your wrist faced upward. He ran his fingers down your arm, resting on your wrist. A devilish grin formed on his thin lips, presumably from the pleasure in whatever he found in you.

His head raised, but his hand remained fixed on your wrist. You made eye contact this time. His gleaming eyes burrowing into yours.

You could feel your hot blood running against his cold touch. Your pulse filled the silence of the too-quiet ballroom. You wanted to run, but not without a fight, and get out of this Umbrella Corporation daymare.

"Ma chérie," he whispered into your skin.

There is no running. No fighting. Today, you must pretend.

Leon stood beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his eyes dark, looking down at the still-seated King.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Leon asked rhetorically, a bite in his tone.

The Lord laughed, releasing your hand.

"No need to be so overbearing, Leon. N'aie pas peur. Please sit and join your fellow nobility."

The last empty chair was his. You scanned the other taken thrones. Some of the men were already turned, marked distinctively by glowing, crimson eyes and a lifeless complexion.

Although some, like Leon, had not yet been turned.

From your reading the previous day, you learned that in the eyes of the cult immortality was a privilege, not a right. They believed one must earn that privilege by dedicated service to the organization before even being considered.

Leon took a seat, relaxing on his throne. You stood beside him awkwardly, not entirely knowing what to do. But, with a tap at your side, you figured it out.

You perched on Leon's lap, your billowy dress flowing over his legs and spilling like blood onto the marble floor. He wrapped a hand around your corseted abdomen, and the other rested in your lap.

Your heart raced a little harder.

"You must be in need of a drink." The King asked.

"Some music would be nice, too," Leon said with a scoff loud enough for musicians on the floor to hear.

The music resumed, and again, the bowing people began dancing. Still, it was finally replaced by the movement and energy of song and dance.

One of the white dress servants arrived with two glasses full of red wine upon a silver platter. Leon made no effort to grab them, so you took them both, passing one off to him.

Leon pressed his lips up to your ear, "drink up, baby," he whispered.

You almost forgot— even your whispers could be herd by the immortal's keen hearing. Every thing that was said, even in a murmur, had to be in line.

It was strange to hear him talk like that, but admittedly you weren't bothered. Although the closeness was unexpected, It's been a long time since you were this close to someone. It had been a year? Maybe two? Since you were at all intimate with another person.

It felt good. He radiated warmth, his touch was gentle, and his handsomeness unmatched.

You downed your glass while Leon sipped on his. His scanning eyes watched the crowd, occasionally flickering back to the King but always ending on you.

He admired as your painted lips caressed the edge of the fine crystal wine glass and how your throat bobbed with each drink.

He called for a refill and demanded more, which the servants promptly fulfilled, And they kept it coming. After every glass you two emptied, they refilled.

Amongst themselves, Leon and the vampire Lords talked about courtly business. and as they talked, Leon's large hands ran down your leg, pulling up your skirt, and exposing up to your knee.

They were talking about war, and all rather intense subject matters. But Leon's hand kept working higher up your legs. Petting and caressing every bit of exposed skin. The King couldn't look away, neither could the other lords, or even the people below.

He used you as a spectacle, to assert his dominance, and power over the rest of the court, and it worked. The commoners were afraid of him, and the lords respected him. He mastered the facade of villainous superiority that belittled all in its path. One that possessed his lover entirely and wanted the world to know it.

His lavish touch across your legs, mixed with the headiness of the wine, brought you to a euphoric state. Coaxed by his affection, you can't help but submit.

Your back arched into his abdomen, yearning for more touch. You could not recall any of the words spoken around you, only the ecstasy of his lips meeting your neck. A soft whisper of a kiss was all he gave you, but your breathing hitched, and your body heated.

You were damned. Damned for liking it as much as you did.

He paused for a moment. Only a minute's break in time, and he still left you internally begging like a dog.

"My, my, what a statement you're making, Lord Kennedy. You plan on sharing?" The King taunted, practically drooling at your bare, pawing legs.

You spoke for the first time the entire night, causing every member of the court's head (that wasn't already) to turn.

"No."

You shot an arrow through the King's fragile pride.

The King's lip twitched. "What a defiant whore you managed to fish up."

Leon laughed, grinning wildly, "Oh, well, you should see how well she obeys me." He patted your thigh in approval, placing an absolutely panty-drenching kiss along your neck.

The King rolled his eyes, but lords couldn't hide their amusement as they stifled back laughter.

Leon rested his knuckle under your chin, "Go on, my love, apologize."

The King retorted snappily, "There's no need for that."

Thank God.

You took an extra large drink of wine to ease the tension, falling back into Leon's warm chest.

They continued on as if nothing ever happened, talking about things you knew nothing about.

Leon listened, cool and aloof, but his hands satiated your need. He resumed the game of inching higher up your leg. His warm fingers trace dizzying circles along your inner thigh.

His calloused fingers felt rough and masculine against your velvet soft skin. He squeezed your thigh, accidentally eliciting a lusty whimper from you.

"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" Leon's breath grazed along your neck, his lips taunting you mere centimeters away from your bare skin.

You pressed your back into the hardness of his body, a needy and desperate attempt for more—more of his lavish touch. You didn't even care who saw.

You turned a cheek, sharing Leon's darkened, sultry gaze. The usual warmth in his pale blue eyes was totally vacant. He observed you like prey, nothing more than a deer in the crosshairs.

The hand that rested on your waist dragged up to your face and cupped your jaw, his thumb petting your lip, transferring your red lipstick to his skin.

His grip on your thigh intensified, digging hard into your skin. Your lips parted with a soft gasp, and your legs opened wider in response to his touch.

Hunter and hunted.

Leon bit his lip as he slid his finger into your mouth. Your lips puckered pretty around his finger, and Leon watched in feral attraction as you teased him with the tip of your tongue. You oozed confidence and sultry submission, letting your doe eyes do the talking.

The lines between the act and reality truly blurred.

The way he touched you felt too real, too right. You craved more than just the teasing.

As if in an answer, Leon's hands migrated lower and lower down your abdomen. Finally, working to where you craved most. But, he couldn't find the proof of how good he made you feel. Your soaking wet underwear would be damning to your case.

In a desperate attempt, you arched your back, attempting to pull yourself away from his wandering touch. In turn, you could feel the unmistakable hardness in his pants pressing against your back.

Oh, he wanted you too. At this stage, you both should just be condemned.

The on-lookers watched from below as you pressed into Leon's length. You ground yourself against him. Your skin glowed with sweat, and strands of hair were falling from your updo and swept around your face.

There were no secrets in the way you felt; you practically radiated sex, intimacy, and everything in between.

One of Leon's hands dragged up your body and grasped your ribcage directly under your breast. The other rested on your collarbones. He pulled your ear to his lips and whispered, "Don't let it go to your head."

You swallowed, heart racing. "What?"

Leon's arrogant grin now pressed against your ear. "That every man in this room is imagining themselves in my place. Don't forget that you belong to me, darling."

"I would never-" You were cut short by Leon's grip tightening around your abdomen.

"Don't patronize me," he demanded, but his white-knuckle grip loosened and transformed into apologetic strokes down your side.

"Yes, my lord." Sweet and submissive.

The King seemed to approve, as marked by an appraising nod he shared with Leon.

A servant walked by, head hung low, and Leon's voice cracked like thunder. "Wine, now." Pure demand in his voice.

You drank the seemingly bottomless glasses of wine Leon ordered. You should have stopped, but you drank on to avoid any unfavorable conversations.

Tonight, you learned that French vampires love to drink.

The night grew late-- You, Leon, and the other Lords were drunker than sailors. Conversations of importance were divulged into off-topic chit-chat and banter. The people below slow-danced to the soft ballads that hummed through the castle.

It was a struggle to stay awake. All the wine, the music, the expectations, the teasing. It tired you out. Your head lay in Leon's chest, soaking up his sent-- Open sky and rugged woods. Your dainty hands gracefully stroked his exposed chest, painting little circles, occasionally your hands reached up to play with his pretty blonde hair. Leon languidly stroked your arm, head resting lazily to the side.

Leon sat up, shifting you with him, and cleared his throat, "My king, It's been a pleasure, but we should head back now."

"Why don't you just say the night? I would hate to see your poor madame walk all the way back to your... Maison, this late."

You and Leon exchanged a look; you weren't exactly sure if he had accounted for this in his plan. Your eyebrows threaded together, a look of annoyance and confusion, but Leon quickly turned away.

"What a hospitable offer, your highness." He responded eloquently. He knew that someone who was actually in his place would never reject an offer like that.

"It's the least I can do for you, Lord Kennedy; after all, you've been so dedicated to our cause." A sly villain-like smirk formed on the King's lips.

Leon politely bowed his head in acknowledgment.

The King snapped his fingers, and without an exchange of words, a servant was at the throne you and Leon shared.

You both stood up and followed her, hand in hand.

You passed by the other Lords still seated along the dais. Their prowling eyes raked your body as you walked by. Leon was right; you were in everyone's minds. Stripped bare and doing unspeakable things to them.

It repulsed you to be thirsted over by depraved vampire lords, but in some sacrilegious facet of your mind, you were flattered by it. You even walked in a way that accentuated your hips, teasing them just a little more.

You were just passing the King's throne when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. It was the King who had implored his icy hand around your arm, pulling you into him. You gasped as he bent you over the armrest of his throne and placed a kiss on your cheek. "Bonne nuit, ma chérie" He whispered in your ear.

He activated your desire to fight back; you wanted to place your hands around the scrawny King's neck and kill him right there. You could without any resistance, too.

But, you suppressed your urge. Sweet and submissive, you told yourself. You already got yourself in enough trouble with your previous stunt, best not to ruin it now.

"Goodnight, your Highness," you muttered back as dainty and feminine as you could manage.

The King released you, and as you took a step back, you were in Leon's chest; his arms were quick to wrap around you, like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess.

As you left the dais, the people of the ballroom once again stopped dancing, and bowed as you and Leon walked through, escorted by the servant.

She showed you to your room, opened the door, bowed, and left promptly.

The room was entirely white and gold, similar in design to the rest of the castle, but featuring a giant bed in the middle of the room with a canopy of pooling gauzy fabric.

"What are we supposed to do now?" you whispered once the door was closed behind you.

Leon rubbed the temples of his forehead as if he had a headache, "I'm not sure. I didn't expect him to want us to stay the night."

You looked around the room, unsure of what to do now. "Should we escape?"

Leon peaked his head out the window, surveying the area, "That's an option, but risky," he muttered. "It would blow our cover when they inevitably found us gone. The plan was to kill the nobility a few days from now, on the full moon. That's when they're planning on turning one of the human lords immortal."

"Why does it have to be then? Can't it just be now? They're all drunk and lounging around, for God's sake!" You accidentally raised your voice, and Leon shushed you by pressing his finger to your lips.

"When they turn someone immortal, they have to use the parasite... The plan is to steal the parasite during the ceremony and then kill them. We need to bring it back to America so it can be studied.

But, I haven't been able to find where they store them; as far as I'm aware, only the King knows. That's why I've been waiting for the ceremony."

"So... We stay?" you said defeatedly.

"Unfortunately."

You looked around the room, rummaging through the wardrobe and the various drawers throughout. Everything was empty except for the Holy Bible in a desk drawer.

"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." Leon offered kicking off his boots before sitting on the small white and gold couch.

"That couch is so small, you can have the bed." You tried to negotiate.

"No, no, it's all yours. I've slept on much worse than this." He said, stretching his legs out along the couch. It was too short for him, so his feet dangled off the armrest.

You sighed; there's no point in arguing.

"Well, I can't sleep in this dress. It weighs about 20lbs, and it's too damn hot."

"There was no spare clothes?" Leon asked.

"Nope."

Leon looked around the room, eyebrows stitched together in thought, before he resolved, "You can have my shirt."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, It's no trouble at all, really."

Leon remained where he was on the couch, eyes closed.

You stood on the other side of the room, fumbling with the corseting on your dress, unable to unlace it. "How the hell did I even get this on earlier?" you mumbled to yourself.

Leon's eyes perked open, watching you struggle. He cleared his throat, "Do you need help with that?"

You didn't answer but still struggled.

Leon took it upon himself to help you. He walked over and began unlacing the many rows of tight lacing along the back of your dress.

"Thank you," you said so very quietly.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier, I—"

You cut him off, "Don't—You don't have to apologize. I understand, truly."

Silence loomed over the room, and only the sound of fabric rustling filled the void. You tried to find the right words to say, but you came up empty-handed.

Leon reached the last eyelet, and you held the gown at the bust so it wouldn't fall off. Although you admittedly wouldn't mind if it did.

Your back was entirely exposed to him, only inches away from pressing against his chest. Your mind slipped— what if you took a step back? Let him do what you want him to do. Let him explore your body even more than he did earlier.

His strong hands could surely do a lot, and his pretty blonde hair would look great between your legs—

God damn.

Leon broke your silent daydream by taking off his white-ruffled shirt. He handed it off to you at your side, gentlemen-like.

He meandered back to the couch, resuming his position of outstretched legs along the cushions, closing his eyes.

You checked over your shoulder to ensure his eyes were closed, and then you let your dress fall to the ground.

You dawned Leon's shirt. The cottony fabric felt soft against your skin and smelled overwhelming like him, rugged and masculine.

In the mirror, you watched yourself let down your updo, letting your hair fall and combing it out with your fingers. Here is where you noticed that Leon's shirt is just a little too sheer.

The outline of your silhouette was vaguely noticeable through his airy shirt, but your nipples were definitely visible.

Oh well.

You folded up the gown and placed it at the foot of the bed atop the quilted velvet ottoman. You were about to get into bed before peaking one more glance at Leon.

He was statuesque in the way his body stretched along the couch. He had a hand atop his very defined abs, and his other arm dangled off the couch.

The faint blueish hue of the moon illuminated him in gentle light, it was the only light in the room, save for the single lit candle next to the bed.

Leon was so pretty in the way he slept. He looked so at peace, so beautiful, and so kissable.

It pained you to not invite him to your bed; maybe in another lifetime, you would have.

But you certainly could not let him sleep without a blanket or a pillow.

You peeled off the first blanket layer of your bed, grabbed one of the many over-filled pillows, and tiptoed to where Leon rested.

Gently, you set a folded blanket on the foot of Leon's bed, causing him to open his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Leon's mumble trailed off into a yawn.

You whispered, "I don't want you to get cold, so I'm giving you some of my blankets."

Leon smiled faintly. "Oh, I see…" he trailed off and then added, "Thanks for that."

You looked pretty; your hair and makeup were a mess but in all the right ways.

Leon noticed how pretty you were. How pretty you were in his shirt, with nothing else underneath.

"I hope this is enough for you."

"Yes, it's more than enough," he reassured.

"I'm going to head to my bed then, goodnight Leon."

He didn't show it, and you would never know it, but he loved how you said his name.

"Goodnight to you, too."

In that moment, time stood still. You couldn't walk away. You wanted to bask in the shared space of each other's gazes, bound by lust. Leon, too, made no attempt to break away.

You'll probably regret it later, but there is no harm in trying, right?

Instead of leaving, you bent down as if to pick something up, but you stopped when you reached his ear.

"Leon..." You whispered quietly.

"Yes?"

Your heartbeat raced so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of your chest. "Do you really want me to go?"

Leon paused, raking his mind for the correct answer. "No."

He turned his head, pressing his forehead to yours, and resting his hand on the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.

"I didn't want to either," you said breathily.

He smiled and kissed you. The first real kiss you shared. It felt like a wave of warmth crashing down your body, every one of your instincts telling you yes. His lips were soft and gentle against your own.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Leon whispered into the kiss.

You replied, "Me neither."

Leon pulled you by your waist, sitting you on top of him, and deepened the kiss by grazing his tongue against yours. He tasted purely of wine.

Your hands ran desperately through Leon's hair as his hands caressed your ribcage down to your hips. His grasp settled onto your waist, stroking his thumbs along your ribs. You playfully bit his lip, praising the way he touched you.

Leon's lips broke away from yours, and they began to press small kisses down your cheek, and then your neck, and then your chest. Every single one felt like pure ecstasy against your skin.

Your arms wrapped around Leon's neck as you arched your back, pressing your chest deeper into his kiss. His grasp along your waist tightened with your movement.

He was aching and so hard in the confined trousers he still wore; Leon rocked you against himself while he made out with your chest.

You moaned with gasping breaths at the feeling of him rutting into you, your head falling back carelessly.

Leon's hand met the spots he kissed, dancing along the wet skin of your chest. His wandering fingers teased the outer edge of the shirt you wore, wanting to pull it down. His lips followed down the V of the shirt, But before he could do anything more, you raised your arms, slipping the shirt over your head.

You were entirely exposed to him, save for your underwear. Leon thanked you by pressing kisses along your pretty breasts, thumbs twirling around your hardened nipples. His lips met where his thumbs danced, puckering his lips around your nipples, stroking and sucking them with his tongue.

You gasped, nearly at the edge of becoming undone. Leon worshipped your breasts like his own personal deity, letting out low, strained moans.

You lost all sense of control, grinding yourself into Leon's bulging lap, getting off at the sensation of his cock twitching for you.

"More," You moaned as Leon released the suck on your nipple with a wet-sounding smack.

You pressed down on Leon's chest, pushing him into the couch.

God, you looked so lovely and desperate from Leon's perspective.

Your hands slipped between your legs, resting on the bulge that strained between them. You caressed him through the fabric, teasing him with a pouty smirk.

Leon's mouth gaped slightly, sucking in a breath as he watched you adore him. You nimbly unbuttoned his pants, pulling down the zipper.

Leon sat up and pushed you back so your legs wrapped around his waist. He stood up, picking you up with ease, and walked you to the bed, gently resting you onto the fortress of overstuffed pillows.

He took off his trousers before joining you, his protruding cock making a tent in his underwear.

"You're beautiful," Leon fawned at your figure before bending down to kiss your thighs. "I loved touching your legs earlier, darling," he added.

You're fully melting at his sugar-covered affections.

You sat up, taking Leon's head in your delicate hands with a devouring kiss. You pulled him back, so he laid on top of you. One of his arms embraced you, and the other brushed between your legs.

His fingers toyed with you, sweetly caressing you through your soaked underwear. You moaned into the kiss as Leon began tracing small circles over the fabric. His hands then nuzzled beneath your underwear, meeting your aching sex fully.

His calloused fingers lapped your cunt, but ended on your clit, circling it gently. You broke from his kiss, head arching back from the intensity of pleasure you felt. Leon licked his lips as he watched you fold under him. Leon tugged off your underwear, deepening your pleasure as he rubbed his fingers around your opening.

Your hands, in desperate need of touch, caressed the expanse of Leon's amazingly defined torso. It alone killed you, the sheer strength he possessed. He was trained into a lethal weapon, but man, did he feel so good.

From Leon's torso, you ventured lower, tugging at the waistband of his underwear. Leon's gaze met your begging doe eyes, pleading him for more.

With your help, he pulled off his underwear, releasing his pretty, throbbing cock. Your hand softly wrapped around his length, petting him slowly. Leon's breath hitched as you did so.

You wrapped a leg around Leon's waist, pulling yourself up to straddle him. Perched on his lap, you rested your soaking cunt onto the length of his cock. Leon's hands dug into your hips, grinding his himself against your folds.

"Leon," you gasped, soaking in the feeling of him beneath you.

He moaned, hungrily watching the way your bodies met.

He sat up, pressing his chest against your stomach, and pressed kisses along your breasts. As he did so, he lifted you up by the waist, giving himself just enough space to push his length into you.

Loudly, you whimpered as his length filled your entire cunt. You bounced yourself on Leon as he sucked your nipples.

Leon released you from his mouth, lying back down, fingers digging into your upper thighs as he fucked himself into you hard. Letting his entire length fill you up before pulling back.

You couldn't help your hopeless cries and moans as his pace picked up, fucking you like the world depended on it. Maybe it did.

You were a few forceful pumps away from reaching your peak, and as you forced yourself into him even deeper, Leon lifted you up by the waist, off of him.

Dazed, you whined, "Why."

He only responded by nudging you over onto your hands and knees, spreading your legs wide for himself.

Leon's cock pressed at your entrance while his hand toyed with your clit, teasing you. He so very slowly pushed himself in, making you feel every inch of his length as he entered you.

"Just like that," he hushed under a moan and then rammed his cock into you, building up speed, fucking you faster and faster.

Your nails dug into the bed sheets, reaching for something that does not exist. Leon smacked your ass with a deep moan as his tip reached even deeper inside of you.

The only noise filling the room was the sound of your skin clapping against his and your shared feverish moans.

"You feel so good," you cooed, pawing at the sheets. "I don't think I can last much longer."

He slowed down his pace, pulling his cock almost entirely out of you before inching himself back in. "You can last just a little longer for me, pretty girl."

"Okay, yes, please just fuck me harder," you pleaded. Grinding yourself on his length, desperate for more than he was giving.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Leon groaned and fucked you so hard that the bed was shaking back and forth. His arm reached up from behind, grasping your neck in his hand. He was hunched over you, fingers squeezing your jaw as he plunged deeper and faster.

His teeth were clenched, and his breath was fast as he burrowed his throbbing cock so far into your cunt that you came completely undone, crying his name as you rode your climax out.

"Leon, Leon, Leon," you cried as your wetness dripped down his leg.

Leon's breath seized as he pulled himself out of you, resting his cock on the small of your back, spilling hot all over your skin.

His grasp loosened, trailing down your neck. His head rested on your back, reeling himself back from his climax.

You rested your body, splaying yourself along the bed. Leon got off of you and frantically looked around the room for something to wipe your back with. He settled on the blanket you had left for him on the couch, thinking to himself, their problem, not mine.

"Thanks," you giggled as he cleaned you off.

He crawled into bed, tucking into the massive billowy covers, and you did the same. You blew out the single candle next to the bedside, leaving only moonlight to douse the room.

Leon opened up his arm, beckoning you into his embrace.

You cuddled him, soaking up his scent and his warmth. All while relishing in the tingling euphoria your body felt.

"Goodnight, for real?" Leon said quietly, sleep heavy in his voice.

"Goodnight, for real, Leon." Your heavy lids shut, falling into sleep.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You wake up on Leon's chest to a knock at the door. The morning sun singed the pounding headache induced by last night's wine-filled activities.

Leon woke up, too, wincing and rubbing his temples. He got out of bed, pulling on his underwear and pants.

Leon's hair was a disheveled mess, and the remnants of your lipstick still stained his neck and his cheek. He answered the door to one of the servants standing there.

She bowed, her thick French accent trembling. "Lord Kennedy, I apologize if I interrupted, but the king wants a word with you."

"Can you show me to the bath first? You can't seriously expect me to talk to him looking like this?" he sounded harsh, and you almost forgot about the character he had to play.

Her voice trembled. "Yes, of course, sir. Not that you look bad, but yes, I'll show you to the bath."

"And her too," the servant peaked her head through the doorway, under the arm that Leon propped himself up with, and saw you, sitting up in bed, covering your naked body with the duvet.

She immediately ducked back in line, "Yes, of course." she bowed her head once more.

Leon tossed you his shirt, which was lying on the ground beside the couch. Quickly put it on, and with a motion of his hand, Leon summoned you to him.

You acted shy, meekly hiding behind Leon.

"Follow me, My lord," The servant hushed, trailing you two down the hallway.

As you tiptoed down the hall, you were barefoot and more exposed than you cared to be. It felt slightly embarrassing, but there was no point in caring now, was there? At least you found amusement in a shirtless Leon.

The servant guided Leon to a bathroom for himself. She signaled him in with her hand while her head was low.

Before he entered, he added, looking down at the servant. "And get her a new dress, she can't go out looking like that... And she wouldn't be caught dead wearing her evening dress during the day, would she?" Leon sounded like an absolute asshole, but that was somehow amusing.

"Yes, my lord," She bowed for the 100th time.

He entered the bathing room, closing the door behind him, and the servant showed you to another bathroom.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You bathed in a massive clawfoot tub, sweet floral soap washing off all the makeup and memories of last night.

You were not sure how to even feel about last night. You'd never slept with a coworker before; you barely sleep with anyone anymore. Is this going to make things awkward when you leave? Or are you to pretend nothing happened at all?

A servant knocked on the door, interrupting your silent pondering before letting herself in. She quietly hung a pretty cream-colored Victorian gown hanging behind the door.

"Madame, Lord Kennedy is speaking with the King. He has asked you to wait while they finish up. We prepared breakfast for you in the dining room in case they go long. When you're ready, the dining room is down the stairs and to the left."

Who are you kidding, there are more pressing issues ahead; you're bathing and being fed in a vampire cult's castle for God's sake.

"Thank you," you said sweetly.

The servant promptly left the bathroom with a bow.

Soon, you will eliminate these vile creatures and leave. You just have to tough it out a little longer. One more day of acting like a mild-tempered little plaything, and this will all be over.

part two coming soon xx

#thank you for reading <3 #i've been so nervous to post this eek #i hope you like it #academy fics✨#throne of his own #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy fanfic

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lixzey · 5 months

Text

Letters

warnings: mentions of therapy, grief, child abuse, keeping a child in a basement, starvation and malnutrition of a child, mentions of bruises, mentions of child protective services, bullying, and hospitalization

a/n: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION ‼️‼️‼️This has very detailed scenes which may not be suitable for everyone. The last five letters will be the same, so heads up!

The Thirteenth Letter

Timothée stared out into the window, taking a deep breath as the plane soared through the clouds. He knew he had to continue reading the rest of Y/N's letters, as painful as it might be. He was terrified; there was no denying that. The mere thought of a young Y/N going through more suffering made his stomach churn, but he needed to know more. He would find her, protect her, and be there for her in any way he could. He couldn't change the past, but he could certainly make a difference in her future. He had to be there for her, to listen to her, to support her, and to show her that she wasn't alone anymore. Timothée swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to make sure that she felt safe and loved.

Timothée took another deep breath before opening the thirteenth letter, dated August 11, 2023.

Dear Timothée,

Sorry, this letter took a long time to write. I got caught up in therapy. I have a new therapist; her name's Gina.

She asked me about the letters since I had mentioned them to Julie before and they were written in my file. Gina asked me if the letters were helping me, and of course I said yes. She asked if I could show her one, and I did. She took it and ripped the letter into pieces, right in front of my eyes. I honestly didn’t know how to feel; I just stared at the pieces of paper on top of the table.

Gina said a lot of things about coming to terms with my past in a natural and slow process and that maybe these letters weren't helping as much as I thought they would. Writing to you was riling up those painful and bad memories, only making me feel worse. She also mentioned that false hope wasn’t good for me, which is bullshit because I don't really hope for anything anymore.

I know you won't reply. I know you won't even read any of my letters. Hell, I know you won’t ever receive any of the letters I wrote. I just like to pretend that you do, that's all.

After the 'session', Gina gave me a pamphlet. It was 'How to Deal with Grief and Coming to Terms with Loss'. It was shit, really. Because one of the bullet points says to talk about your loss with another loved one. Funny, because all of my loved ones are dead. So here I am, talking to you, because you are the next best thing.

So anyway, here's the continuation of the story of my fucking life.

I still spent the rest of my days down in the basement—locked up alone, scared, and nearly dead. I was sickeningly thin from malnutrition and dehydration. Bruises littered my body in all shapes and sizes; I had scratches all over—out of frustration and skin irritation from allergies, since I didn't get the chance to fucking clean myself. Every day, I prayed for some kind of miracle to set me free from that living nightmare. I didn't know how much longer I could survive in that hellhole. I could hear my aunt's voice upstairs every night, laughing and carrying on as if I wasn’t three feet under her house. It made me sick to my stomach to think about how she could go about her life while I suffered down below.

It didn't get any better, until my eleventh birthday came around. Honestly, I didn't know how long I was down in the basement. I had lost track of time, but it felt like I had been down here for years. Then one day, my aunt just dragged me out of the basement and shoved me into a bedroom upstairs. It turns out a social worker was looking for me. I was eleven, and the school year had just begun, but I wasn't at the local school, so child protective services got worried. My aunt got to work fast; she made me look as if I wasn't abused—that I was a normal and happy kid living with her. She did a fucking great job, I'm not gonna lie—she covered each and every blemish on my body with foundation and concealer—fucking impressive. She bought clothes, toys, and everything a child would need just so she could avoid getting arrested for child neglect.

When the child protective services came again, I was forced to act like everything was alright and that I was in a happy home. I desperately wanted to tell the social worker the truth. I wanted to scream so badly and just run into the social worker's arms and beg her to take me away, but I couldn't.

My life got a little bit better after that day, though. My aunt was forced to let me stay in the room upstairs rather than the cold basement downstairs since child protective services visited me every week. It was easier for her to let me stay in the bedroom than to make me look decent every time. I was never to leave the room unless necessary, not that I wanted to leave the room with my aunt around the house. I still got the bare minimum from her—I still got her scraps of food, but it was better than nothing.

Then middle school happened.

At first, I was excited to make friends with kids my age; I never had any growing up since I usually stayed at home with my parents and there weren’t really any kids in the neighborhood I grew up in. So, naturally, I thought that making friends would be easy.

I was too fucking stupid to believe that it would be easy. I mean who was I kidding? Middle schoolers were fucking mean—well, not high school mean, but you get the point. I was bullied relentlessly, and I always dreaded going to school; it was torture. The kids in my class always made fun of me, calling me names and treating me like shit. I was the freakishly thin girl who always wore baggy clothes that no one wanted to be friends with. There was this one time when this girl—her name was Claire—tripped me in the hallway, and I crashed into the janitor’s cart. Bleach and other cleaning chemicals spilled everywhere—on my skin, on my clothes, and in my hair. It burned my skin so badly that I had to be taken to the hospital to get treated properly. Until now, I still have burn scars on my arms and neck area. I had to wear long-sleeved shirts to cover up my arms, though in the long run, the burns weren’t the only reason why I covered my arms up.

I just wanted a normal fucking life, but life decided to push me into a living hell. Was that too much to fucking ask? I’m so damn tired, Tim. I don’t think I can live like this anymore. I’ve been through so much, and what’s written in this letter isn't even half of what I’ve gone through.

I think it’s about time to stop writing, don’t you think? As if you’d answer me, God, I never fucking learn.

Maybe Gina does have a point. Maybe these letters really are making everything worse.

All my love,

Y/n.

Timothée sighed, folding the letter and tucking it back in its envelope. He wanted to let her know that he was—in fact, listening—granted that it was a year late, he was listening. The pain and suffering she went through were unimaginable, and the guilt he felt for not being there for her when she needed him most was killing him. If the letters had just arrived earlier, he would have done anything to make it all easier for her.

“I hope you're still here, Y/n. I hope you didn't give up.”

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @imnotoverlyobsessive @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @ashisabitgay @ladyladybuggg @nyrasunderwrld @lizzxoxo @remussbitch @jadahxx @starrystormwritings @ell0ra-br3kk3r @dreary-salem @drewsandsebastianswife @greenapplegrass @lilianelena39 @danni-phant0m @haybellewrites @cloudlst @si4a @ev3ningrain @ttulipwritezz @bambikitten @bullets-from-another-dimension @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @reg-arcturus-black @abruuinlove @marina468 @3stelar @timhalamet @st4rf00k3r @idli-dosa @jimins15thhair @blacksgarden

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ofallthingsnasty · 5 months

Text

a few days ago I had a little thought about secret admirer Sanji trying to keep things lowkey and how he'd still overdo it. thanks to @tang3r1n's addition, I had to use this as a little writing exercise because it tickles me

tags: secret admirer (and thus unintentional stalker) Sanji, modern AU, crack treated seriously, misunderstandings, i definitely did not write this with the US in mind (everyone drinks) pairing: Sanji/GN!Reader word count: 1k

“Another one?”

Robin’s eyes are dark over her porter. She leans closer, chin perched on her hand, rapt attention all on you.

“Yeah, another one”, you confirm and nip at your beer. Crystal wheat, your third today - and you can tell. Usually - or, at least when you’re sober - the little letters that flutter into your mailbox every other day are not only a great source of discomfort but also… weirdly embarrassing. You’re definitely not as eager to share them with your friends as you are now, when the alcohol has loosened you up a little, breathed some humor into this whole ‘secret admirer slash stalker’ situation that has been going on for a while now.

“Here, get a load of this”, you say, tapping the paper with your nail. It’s a little crinkled from throwing it in your bag but it still smells nice, probably spritzed with some floral perfume. Yeah, creepy.

“‘My darling, you looked simply ravishing today.’ The ravishing is underlined, by the way”, you slot in and turn the letter around to show her. “See?”

She nods and you continue. “‘Blue suits you exceptionally well. It makes me think of the skies when we first met. Maybe you remember it, too? I’ll never forget the first time you looked at me-’ oh my god, I can’t even read you the rest, it's so embarrassing!”

You can’t help but pull a face at your own voice. The letter goes on and on, as they all do - paragraphs upon paragraphs of someone laying it on thick, usually talking about your eyes, your clothes, your body - and then their feelings about those things. It reads like a paperback romance from the 90s, flowery and greased up to the maximum. You hand her the paper, so she can read the rest for herself.

“Ugh. Like, who- who fucking talks like that?”, you mumble into your beer and try to wash down the heat in your cheeks with another swig of sunflower-yellow wheat.

A snort interrupts you, the sound coming from Zoro, who sits right next to Robin. He looks like he’s about to spurt out his mouthful of beer like the jet of a water pistol. Of course he finds it amusing.

He swallows loudly, then barks out a laugh.

“That sounds exactly like- Eouch-”

Robin gives him a close-eyed smile as she shifts her weight around. “... Like a secret admirer, doesn’t it?”

“Secret admirer? Robin, how often do I have to tell you? This person has started sending coffee and donuts in my name to work. My coworkers are starting to talk. How do they even know where I work? This is so beyond ‘secret admirer’ territory.”

“I want free food, too”, chimes Luffy from behind her as he loads up on peanuts before shimmying back to the darts, where Usopp and Chopper are waiting for him. “If you don’t want them, tell them they can send me donuts!”

Very helpful, thanks, dude.

You lean over the edge of the table once he’s out of earshot again, eyes wide as you let them flit between Robin and Sanji, who has been awfully quiet during all of this. He looks weirdly downtrodden as he peers into his own glass, spinning it with one hand. It’s nothing new for him to be a little sulky during your meet-ups - probably another tinder date that didn’t turn out quite as he had hoped.

“I got a fucking bouquet the other day, can you imagine? I even took a- oh, wait-”

You fish your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans and swipe through your gallery to show them a picture of the decadent monstrosity (in your favorite color, no less) that had everyone at work chuckling two Fridays ago. It’s gaudy, over the top, ridiculous - you let your oldest coworker take it home with her because you simply couldn’t stand to look at it any second longer.

“Look at this. Next thing they’ll do is put my head in the center of one of these, I swear.”

Robin says nothing. Sanji visibly pales, then he mumbles into his white wine spritzer.

“Darling, aren’t you exaggerating? Just a little bit?”

“Am I, Sanji?”, you say, dead serious and voice gravelly. “Am I?”

You lean closer until you’re almost nose-to-nose with him, the one too many crystal wheats making you a little animated. You don’t care, suddenly humorless under the dim lights above you.

He pulls back as you shove yourself into his personal bubble, eyes swimming with something. It’s incredibly out of character for him to be so silent about this whole situation and even beneath all of your buzz, you feel disappointment sting in your belly.

“What’s gotten into you, Sanji? Why are you defending this random creep?”, you say, very confused and a little mad. One year ago, when you had troubles with a too-friendly coworker, he had been there - had chaperoned you home after work, had helped you address the situation with your employer. For him to see you so distraught and almost brush you off is more than just a little strange.

“What if they follow me home, huh? What then, Sanji?”

Well, you have officially rendered him speechless. The blond looks like he’s choking on some words that are trying to climb out of his throat but never quite make it through his vocal chords.

“Yeah, what if they’re in this bar?”, mocks Zoro and gives you a pointed look.

“Stop making fun of me, idiot”, you hiss and aim a single peanut at his head. “This is serious.” Of course, you miss.

He opens his mouth to say something but a laugh to your left stops him. Your head snaps back and Robin at least has the decency to cover her mouth as her shoulders shake ever so slightly.

“Why are you laughing now?”

She waves her hands in surrender but that mischievous smile you’ve grown to know and loathe is still on her face.

“Well, I think that this secret admirer of yours should speak up soon, right, Sanji?”, she says and picks up her porter again. “I-”, he starts and somehow looks even more uncomfortable than before. He reaches to adjust his tie and you take the opportunity to butt in.

“I don’t know if I want that, Robin”, you deadpan. “If this continues, I’m gonna call the police.”

There’s a clatter next to you - Sanji is suddenly up from his seat, with both hands on the table. Something about his expression screams deer in headlights.

“I need a cigarette. Now.”

#sanji x reader #one piece x reader #/one piece #/sanji

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yukisshittyposts · 2 years

Text

Just Imagine Bakugou with a daughter that has daddy issues: Part 3

You asked and shall receive <3

[Part 1 –> Part 2]

NOTE: I'm so sorry it took me so long to write this! I hope you like it :) Also, since many anons requested a Part 3 but each request had a different concept, i decided to try and combine them all into one post. I hope that's alright with you <3

English is not my first language so, sorry if you find any spelling mistakes.

Btw, (D/n) = Daughter's name.

"Just so you know, Mum made me agree to this."

"I know but you could've still denied her and stay home instead of going on a walk with me."

"Tch."

Bakugou knew this wouldn't be easy from the moment he saw that annoyed look on your daughter's face, the same look he has himself whenever the paparazzi crowd him, according to his parents.

"So, how have you been lately?" He asks her, trying to break the ice. She stares at him for a moment, with the same crimson eyes that he has and shoves her hands inside the pockets of her dark green hoodie. Her Deku hoodie. "Good" She answers, averting her eyes from him.

"How are things at school? Do you like UA?"

"Yeah..."

"Your classmates, your teacher? Everything's alright with them?"

"With my classmates, yeah. They're cool. My teacher though..." she sighs, shaking her head. "He's a weirdo. He calls me and Reiko problem children all the damn time for some reason unknown to us and likes to sleep all the time."

"Reiko?"

"Reiko Midoriya." Ah, yes. Deku's brat.

"Let me guess, you have Aizawa as your homeroom teacher." She suddenly turns her head, looking at him with wide eyes full of surprise. "How did you–"

"He calls me from time to time to scold me for the way i handle some situations and vice versa. At some point, he called to tell me that he has a little girl in his class that radiates gremlin energy and who looks awfully like me."

Her mouth falls open and makes the shape of the letter "O".

"I do not radiate gremlin energy!" She frowns, clenching her jaw.

Bakugou chuckles and gives her a playful, lop sided smile. "Ah, yes you do."

"And how do you know that?" She asks. You don't live with me and Mum to know." Silence. Deafening fucking silence. Bakugou stops walking and stares blankly at the space before him. And to think this conversation was going so well so far... He clenches his fists and takes a deep breath, trying to keep his cool and looks at your daughter with an annoyed expression on his face.

"You know..." he starts saying. "You're the one who doesn't let me get to know you better. You realise that, right? No matter how much i try to spend time with you, you just don't let me."

"Jeez, i wonder why" she mumbles under her breath.

"It's been nine years, (D/n)!" he suddenly yells, making her flinch and take a step back. "It's been nine fucking years! I've been trying for nine fucking years and you–"

"Don't fucking put the blame on me! You left!" Your daughter yells back, pointing a finger at him. "You fucking left! You were out of my life for two fucking years! No calls, no texts, no nothing! And for what? For some stupid fucking cunt!"

"Don't bring my wife into this!"

"I will do whatever the fuck i want to!" She screams, anger thrumming through her veins and trembling with rage. "You left me! You fucking abandoned me remember? You abandoned me! Mum had to lie to me every fucking day about you! That you were on some secret fucking mission and that you weren't allowed to communicate with us! I was worried sick about you until i saw you one night on the damn TV, talking about that cunt and about your damn son!"

"I didn't want to–"

"Do you know how i felt the moment i saw you talking on that damn show?" Her voice cracks, eyes shining with the threat of tears. "Do you? I felt so fucking relieved. Finally, i remember thinking. He's back from that stupid mission. Safe and alive. Now, he can come back home and talk to me, spend time with me and help me train my quirk. I was so fucking ecstatic, so fucking excited until you started talking about her and about your son. I'm not stupid. I put the pieces together. It wasn't so hard for me to realise that the mission Mum was talking about didn't exist."

"I remember this one time" she chuckles, looking at everything except him with big, fat tears running down her face. "I was badly hurt during a training exercise. Mum had to take me to the hospital. I remember her dialing your number and calling, trying to reach you out so many times but you never picked up the phone. Thankfully, Shoto was there so i started to feel slightly better but that's not the fucking point." She sobs, trying to keep herself from completely breaking down. "You see what you do to me now? This is why i never agree to spend time with you, god fucking damnit!"

Bakugou grabs your daughter's shaking, sobbing figure and brings her towards him. He wraps his big arms around her and hugs her tightly. He places his head on top of her own and closes his eyes, trying to keep his own tears from spilling.

"Why did you leave? Why did you leave me, dad?" He hears her whimper on his chest. Fuck, she hasn't called him that in years. "Why did you leave me?"

He looks ahead for a moment, trying to find the right words to comfort his daughter.

"I never wanted to leave you, sweetheart" he whispers, rocking the both of them back and forth. "Never. I just...I just didn't want to make the same mistake again. I didn't want history to repeat itself and in the process, i made another mistake. The worst one. I hurt you. I left you when i shouldn't have and didn't think of the consequences, how it would affect you and i'm so so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. You have every right to hate me. I don't blame you for trying to avoid me all these years, honey. You have every damn right."

"All I'm asking" he continues, his voice heavy with emotion, "Is to give me another chance. I know i don't deserve it but please, give me one chance to make things right with you. Just one. Please."

Eyes swollen from the tears shed just moments ago, she let's out a shaky breath and gently pushes him away. Bakugou lets her and takes a step back to give her some space.

"I just..." She starts to say brokenly, blinking the tears away and avoiding eye contact. "I don't think i can ever forgive you for leaving." Fuck. Fuck, fuck fu–

Bakugou feels a great pang grip his heart and he forces himself to nod, misery written all over his face.

"But..." She continues, her eyes now shining with hesitance, making him look at her with a hopeful expression.

"I would like to try."

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader angst #bakugou imagines #bakugou drabble #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou katsuki #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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umeoniii · 1 year

Note

Can you do lesbian fluff (or smut) for the aot girls????

lesbian relationship hcs w aot girls

nsfw & sfw

w: annie, mikasa, sasha,

annie:

☆ very introverted obvi, but she can actually be very extroverted w her s/o

☆ prefers cute dates at food places like bakeries or sushi restaurants

☆ loves when her s/o makes her sweets

☆ for gifts i feel like she writes things, like letters or poems maybe even a song (probably too embarrassed to sing though)

☆ not the most affectionate but when she is she’s a lot, like a lil puppy dog

☆ sleeps a lot, she sleeps all over her s/o

she falls asleep on their lap, shoulders, stomach i feel like she’s a really sleepy girl

☆ likes hearing her s/o’s stories and adventures

she likes giving her input and opinions

☆ wears ur hoodies maybe bcs she likes the smell, maybe bcs their comfier, maybe bcs she likes bugging you

☆ gets flustered when you even show that you think abt her

☆ actually anything you do makes her flustered deep down

☆ takes turns w u giving back massages

☆ forcefully takes you w her to the gym

you don’t even have to work out but she still wants you there

☆ she lets you touch her abs, even though she finds it odd

♡ she’s more dominant BUT she can be more subby depending on how she’s feeling

♡ loud

♡ likes scissoring

♡ when she is feeling submissive she likes when her s/o eats her out

♡ owns a good amount of sex toys, she bought them really for you

♡ very great stamina

♡ can last a few rounds before getting overstimulated and tired

mikasa:

☆ little spoon when sleeping

☆ very introverted even with her s/o

☆ likes quite and secluded dates, like a picnic

☆ likes when you take photos of her but she doesn’t like for the whole world to see them

☆ makes things for her s/o

something as small as cookies or as big as a crocheted sweater

☆ type of gf who would share a milkshake willingly

☆ super cuddly and warm

☆ remembers lots of things abt you, some things you’d render “useless”

like you had a hamster named zunie in 5th grade

☆ has a playlist of songs that make her think of u

☆ let’s you pick out her outfits sometimes

☆ keeps all the plushies you’ve ever bought her

♡ sub

♡ whimpers and whines

♡ holds you very tightly

♡ sometimes she lowkey gets all somber and sad during sex whispering stuff like “please don’t leave me ever”

♡ sex is very intimate w her

♡ squirter

♡ when she is giving to her s/o she literally eats pussy like a starved woman

sasha:

☆ naggy loud gf

it’s very sweet though

☆ shows her s/o a lot of love…. a lot

she gives you wet kisses and blows raspberries into your tummy

☆ you guys alr know she likes dates at restaurants but i feel like she’d also like people watching, feeding ducks, or the movies. she likes fun stuff

☆ never a dull moment with her

☆ sleeps wildly, sometimes you just gotta sleep on the couch. she probably snores too.

☆ she’s the type to post all pictures of you for the world to see. ALL

☆ makes slideshows on stuff like why she thinks you guys should buy a roomba

☆ forces u to do couplely things like match outfits

☆ buys corny cards for holidays

“you’re purrfecf for me! love, sash”

☆ play wrestles

takes it way too far. she jumps off the couch and tries to body slam you

☆ if you have bigger boobs just know she’s not gonna leave em alone

she lies on them to sleep and she always just touches them and gropes them

she makes “jokes” about you breastfeeding her and calling you mommy (it’s not really a joke)

~ ♡ def calls you mommy in bed regardless of chest size

♡ with all the eating she does she’s gotta be able to eat pussy

♡ vv whiny

♡ sub

♡ cant last longer than around 2 minutes

♡ will literally touch herself right next to u in bed while you’re sleep

♡ puts whipped cream on your body and licks and eats it off

a/n: i am SO sorry this took so long, i literally got stuck and was gonna try and make this one super duper long but i gave up on it and finished it last .°(ಗдಗ。)° . i hope u enjoy it n’ if there’s another character u wanna see u can request it! <333

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cursingtoji · 2 years

Note

hi! I was wondering if you could to a part 2 of " Habits of the Heart " where y/n comes back really late from a mission and tengen and the wives were really worried and thought something bad had happened? I really loved it!!

continuation drabble from Habits of the Heart

Your first mission after returning to the fields was nothing but exhausting, your whole body hurt and you cursed yourself several times for not training more often during the time you stayed home.

“Are you leaving already?” Shinobu asked surprised when entering the room where you’re been resting since your arrival the night before.

“I have to,” you gave her an apologetic look as you finished adjusting your clothes, “Thanks for bandaging me up” you patted her shoulder on your way out only then realizing it was something Tengen does.

“They miss you, don’t they?” Shinobu asked.

“Well, I’ve been sending letters so they shouldn’t miss me so badly.”

In fact even when you arrived all bloodied and exhausted last night you forced yourself to write a letter informing them everything was fine, no limb was lost and you would probably be arriving tonight.

You said your farewells to the staff in the butterfly state knowing you would be back soon, and left with your few belongings, but you weren’t far when a crow found you, immediately giving some news about a boy in trouble trying to fight a demon way above his level.

You promised you would be home tonight, but—

“Show me the way.”

“It’s midnight already.”

“I know.”

“She should’ve arrived already.”

“I know.”

“What if something hap—“

“Suma, shut up” Makio shouted, not being able to listen to her wife ramblings anymore, they were starting to make her heart ache, but even worse, they made Tengen more stressed then he was.

“Maybe she left the butterfly state a little bit later than planned and will arrive in the morning” Hinatsuru said looking through the window.

“No, I asked Shinobu to inform me when she leaves, which was this morning” Tengen murmured, his wives sighed.

“I’ll write to her again” Hinatsuru got up from her sit, finding something to keep her busy.

The fighting took longer than you first thought, the young slayer was very hurt once you got there, and it was not just one of demon, most of them were gone already but you had to fight your way into the leader. At some point you realized you couldn’t kill him, so you let him scape, prioritizing your life and the boy’s instead.

You also had to make sure he was safe before leaving, so you stopped by a village nearby to be cared by a healer you knew.

“What about you, my dear?” the elderly lady asked after welcoming the bleeding boy in her establishment. Outside it started to snow, the fields were already white but the snow was not too deep yet, if you stayed it would be harder to find your way tomorrow.

“I have to go home now, don’t worry about me” you smiled at her, one hand on your ribs.

Thankfully you caught a ride in the back of a farmer’s wood wagon that would pass by the Uzui state.

Your face hurt, probably a couple ribs broken and burning wounds that would require treatment so it wouldn’t get infected.

Your mind went to Hinatsuru, she was always deeply concerned when any spouse was hurt, Makio had the job of changing Tengen’s bandages daily after a mission after Hinatsuru applied medicine on it.

I miss them so much.

You’ve been away from them for a whole month while on slayer duty, that’s the maximum amount of time you’ve spent separately since the marriage.

Your ride informed when you arrived at the closest spot he could leave you, jumping out of the wagon you hissed holding your ribs and thanking the man.

The Uzui state was a 20 minute walk up a hill, with so many injuries plus the thick snow on the ground you made halfway before starting to feel dizzy. The path in front of you got blurry, were you even in the right way?

“Tengen” you whispered your husband’s name, worrying about him, and hoping he could forgive you for being late. Your legs seemed to give up the task of supporting your body, your body leaned forward as you closed your eyes waiting to feel your face hit cold snow.

Instead you’ve hit a warm body.

“There you are” you heard his sweet voice, your eyes had trouble adjusting to focus on his face, Tengen removed his winter cloak, dropping it on your shoulders.

“Hello handsome” you smiled, “How did find you me?”

“Heard you calling me” he picked you up as easy as a little forest animal as you warned about your ribs, “I’ve been walking around the forest looking for you.”

“Sorry” you murmured in his chest, already feeling warmer as he walked slowly to your house.

“What happened, my love? You said you were fine in your last letter” you could feel his beautiful eyes upon your bruised face.

“Last minute call, I tried to help a younger slayer but…”

“But what? Did he die?”

“No! He’s being treated in a village, the healer said he will be fine, but… the demon escaped” your fist closed around the cloak. Tengen stopped walking.

“You’ve done as said, you put your life and his first” he realized.

“Yeah, but…”

“No, love, no buts, you did right, I’m proud of you” he adjusted you to kiss your forehead, “Missed you so much” he whispered. Your eyes watered and you took his face on your small injured hands.

“I love you, Tengen” you whispered back, giving his lips a soft but long peck since your lips also had a cut. He limited himself to squeeze your thigh to not hurt you any more, but all he wanted was to hug and kiss you so hard you would never think about leaving his side again.

#— beauty sleep hours 💤#no major warnings #uzui tengen x reader #tengen x you #uzui x y/n #tengen x reader #demon slayer x reader

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shadowynn · 1 year

Text

| in love and lore | four |

pairing: ateez x fem reader

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: some cursing, mentions of death and violence, slight suicidal thoughts, some yandere behavior

summary: the daemon king and his seven black generals. names and faces of these eight had changed over the years as each new king was crowned, but their reputation as the most powerful daemons always remained the same. upon hearing the rumors one of the seven led the charge of the nearby battle, you should have stayed close to the encampment. you should have never wandered out on your own. but you did, and your life would never be the same again. good or bad, you would just have to wait to find out.

“There’s no need to be afraid, angel.” His words were a breath against the side of your neck. “You’ve done so much for us, let your king now return the favor.”

wordcount: 6.8k

a/n: so, I may or may not be posting this part earlier than planned, but I had it done and all the love and support you guys send gives me lots of motivation to keep writing and I couldn’t wait to give you all more. it’s a bit lacking in the boys department again, but next chapter and onwards things will definitely be changing. hope you all enjoy! :)

| three | four | five |

You struggled to control the way your stomach rolled, raising a hand to your mouth to fight the wave of nausea that overtook you. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to turn away, to move, but your legs were glued to their spot and you found it impossible to tear your eyes away.

Her body had been sliced and torn in multiple places, but the cut along her stomach was what had truly done her in. With the amount of blood left pooling around her body, the likeliest cause of death was from blood loss, drawing her death out into a long and painful process. Her right hand was also coated, and though you first assumed it had been from trying to apply pressure and slow the majority of the bleeding from the stomach, the trail of blood that fell from the last letter of the message behind her to where her hand laid to rest when she died made you think otherwise. The thought of whoever had done this using her hand as a brush made you shiver, wondering if she had been forced to write the message as she slowly bled out.

The pigs will pay for their crimes.

The words repeated themselves in your mind, wondering why the phrase sounded so familiar. Your mind went to that night with Seonghwa from so long ago, wondering if it had been something he had said, before you realized it hadn't been him.

The pigs will pay for their crimes.

Pigs.

The world would be a better place without pigs like her contaminating it.

Yeosang.

It took all your self control to not throw up, another wave of nausea hitting you as the realization of what had happened hit you. The idea that it had been him, the boy who had treated you so kindly yesterday, who had done it, made you more sick than the scene before you. Because if you were right, and it was him who had done this, that meant you had a role in this woman's death too. It meant you were the reason she was now dead.

That's only if she gets around to filing it.

As your stomach rolled once more, you stumbled back a few steps, needing to get away. Panic clawed its way up your throat and you found your hands beginning to shake.

Yeosang. It had to have been him. As much as the thought made you sick, you knew it had to have been him. Everything was far too coincidental for it not to be. Though you hadn't understood at the time, he had seemed so angry by the woman's actions. An unbridled anger hidden beneath his easy smiles. The way his eyes had glittered darkly when he hinted at her never getting around to filing it, stating how he wished something would happen to her on her way home, had all but spoken the truth. She wasn't going to be making it home and he knew that. Knew that because he had fully planned on killing her before she did. The only question that remained was why. Why had he done it?

Because he wasn't the human he appeared. Because he was a daemon.

Now that you were here, it seemed so obvious. You had just been so infatuated with the way he had treated you, with the way he had looked at you, to stop for a second and think, really think, about how odd his behavior had been. The lie he had spun about being from the borders had only served to fit his narrative when his comments towards his own people had put you on edge. And if he lied about that? What else had lied about? The way the daemons would have treated you better? The way this new king was different? Or the way he had genuinely seemed to care for you? The way he had seemed to truly see you for who you were? The way he had called you beautiful?

The realization hurt you more than you cared to admit, cutting deep and adding to the pit forming in your stomach. Had anything he said been true? Or was it all a lie? Had it all just been a ruse to get you to drop your guard? Had it all been a ploy for him to pin the death on you? Simply because he saw you as a traitor to your people? Because he saw you as something not fit to be alive?

God, you hated how much the betrayal hurt. You didn't know him, but that did nothing to stop it from hitting you where it hurt the most. It didn't stop from shattering each and every hope he had built up inside you yesterday. That someone like you could actually be seen passed your halfbreed status. That someone like you could actually be cared for. That someone like you could actually be loved.

You fought to hold back the tears that pooled in the corner of your eyes, stumbling your way back out from the growing crowd, desperate to get away.

What were you going to do? If the report wasn't enough to have you killed, this was. It wouldn't take long for the officials to show up at the scene and connect her death with the incident that had occurred between the two of you at the infirmary the day before. You may have had nothing to do with her death, but the evidence towards you was damning. Would they give you a chance to defend yourself? Or would they take what they were given? The citizens would demand justice for what had happened, leaving the council no choice but to find a scapegoat to put their minds back at ease. And with your connection to the murder, it was all the more likely they would use the coincidences that tied you to her as an excuse to rid the city of one more mutt.

The threat of a noose around your neck had you wanting to run once more, any relief you might have felt earlier had died alongside that woman. It was one thing to pay for something you had actually done. But this, this was something you had no part in. You wanted to run, to hide, to disappear before they had a chance to hang you for it.

But you couldn't. Even if you weren't fully aware running would only serve to make you look more guilty than you already were, you couldn't leave. Not without Soomin or Hyunwoo. Leaving might delay your own death, but it would come at the cost of their own. As much as you didn't want to die, you couldn't willingly put them at risk. You had already put them in harm's way as it was and you wouldn't be able to continue living as it was if your actions led to their deaths.

Your hands were still shaking when you reached the infirmary, body shivering as you passed by the spot you had stood with him the day before. Another painful reminder of how stupid you had been for trusting him. Of how stupid you had been for believing anything he had said. Of how stupid you had been for thinking he might have actually cared for you.

While the council had done their best to cover the crime up, word spread through the city like wildfire over the next few hours. The message written in her blood had been cleaned up shortly after you had left, but that hadn't stopped anyone from repeating it in hushed conversations. It was all everyone was talking about as they arrived for their shifts at the clinic, eyes shifting your direction when they saw you. Each of them were well aware of the incident that had occurred the day before, and had pinned the blame on you without any hesitation.

"I apologize for having to bother you while you're at work. I'm aware of how valuable your time is."

They showed up two hours into your shift, approaching you in the back where you had been busy trying to distract yourself with some brewing. You hadn't heard them come in, however, and the vial you had been holding slipped through your fingers when one of them spoke, shattering against the floor.

"Once again, I must apologize. We didn’t mean to startle you. Your supervisor said we were free to make our way back here." He offered you a sheepish smile when you apologized for the slip up, and you rushed for a broom to clean the mess up and prayed he didn't mistake your nerves for guilt. "Like I said, we're aware of how valuable your time is, but I'm afraid we can't let you get back to work until we've run through a few questions with you. So, if you wouldn't mind drinking this for us, we can get this done with as quickly as possible." His eyes seemed to glitter as he held out a glass vial towards you, the milky white coloring of the liquid swirling inside signaling you to its contents.

You didn't know whether to be relieved or not at the prospect of drinking the truth potion. On one hand it meant you could clear your name of the crime and prove you hadn't done it, but on the other, it could very well have you spilling other things you had done that were just as damning. It just all depended on which questions were asked.

"I believe you're already well aware of the murder that occurred some time in the night, is that correct?"

He began the interrogation once the contents of the potion were downed and the two of you were settled across from each other at a nearby table. You nodded in response, trying hard to steady your shaking hands and keep from fidgeting too much. Your interrogator seemed friendly enough for someone in his role, but his relaxed demeanor did little to help calm you, especially with the way his two guards glared at you from behind. It was obvious they had pinned the blame on you like the others and were just waiting for the moment when you would be forced to reveal your secrets to them.

"I need a verbal response from you, Miss l/n."

"Right, sorry," you gulped, nodding once more. The truth potion you had been given did prevent you from speaking anything but the truth, but it had little affect on anything other than verbal responses. You knew that. You had brewed hundreds of these potions before, after all, and had probably been the one to brew the one you just drank. The irony of it would have made you laugh if you weren't so panicked at the moment, the nerves coursing through you system making it difficult for you to find your voice. "Yes, I'm aware of the murder. I witnessed the body on my walk into work this morning."

"Good, thank you."

He offered you another smile, but the action only served to make you more off put by him rather than to comfort you. His demeanor felt odd, and was vastly different from the security officers you had worked with before. It was less accusatory and more relaxed, as though this was all just a game for him. As though he couldn't care less whether you were actually convicted or not. The grin he kept sending your way was almost playful, and didn't quite match the typical gruff exterior of the officers you had been around. Whether this was normal for him or not, it was hard to tell. But it seemed to you that even his guards seemed a bit put off by his actions, their eyes continually shifting back and forth between the two of you.

"Now, the victim was the mother of one of the councilmen at Yuchae, a Hak Seongmin. Have you ever had any run-ins with Ms. Hak before her death?"

"Yes, I had the pleasure of meeting her the day before here in the clinic." As much as you didn't want to talk about what had happened, the words fell off your tongue with an ease that frustrated you. You knew the incident would only serve to throw suspicion in your direction, but it was impossible for you to stop yourself once the first word rolled off your tongue. "She had started a commotion with one of the other healers, so I went over to try and deescalate the situation which only resulted in her getting angry with me."

"Interesting," he hummed, leaning forward in his seat and resting his chin in his hand. "And what happened during this exchange?"

"She claimed I was trying to poison her, but that wasn't, isn't, true. I would never try to poison anyone." You shook your head, wanting to stop talking, but the question had only prompted you to keep going. And the more you tried to fight the potion working its way through your system, the worse it was going to get for you. "She ended up slapping me before she left and threatened to report both myself and one of the other half-daemon healers I work with."

"So you killed her to get your revenge, isn't that right?" The guard on your left sneered, a haughty smile peeking through as the conversation turned the direction he wanted it to.

You shook your head, a new hint of desperation in your tone. "No, I swear it wasn't me. I didn't kill her."

"You lying bi-"

"Chang, that's enough." The interrogator raised his hand, signaling the guard to stop when your response only triggered him to start some nonsense of you lying. "We all saw her drink the potion, so we all know she's telling the truth. It would be impossible for her to say anything else, so please, let me do my job and ask the questions here. She may not have killed Ms. Hak, but she may know who did." He raised his brow at the guard, as though daring him to speak up and rebuke his statement, but the guard simply threw another nasty look in your direction, blaming the reprimand he had just received on you. "Good, so you had a bit of an altercation with Ms. Hak while you were at work yesterday. What did you do when she left?"

"The lead healer on duty thought it would be best if I returned home for the day. This wasn't the first time something like that had happened yesterday with the amount of refugees coming in who aren't used to half-daemons, so I went home."

"And did you leave your house in between the time you went home from work and when you left this morning to come back in?"

"No, I was at home with my siblings the entire night. None of us ever left until this morning to go back to work."

"And I know our friend over here has already asked this, but I'm going to need to ask it one last time just for the official records. Did you kill Ms. Hak?"

"No. I didn't kill her."

"Do you have any inclination of who might have wanted her dead? Anyone who showed signs of having an allegiance with the daemons?"

And there it was. The question you had been dreading.

You had been expecting it, but you still felt your breath hitch when it finally came. It was easy enough for you to prove your innocence towards this crime, you had just done it, but it was impossible for you to not share your earlier revelations with the officer if this question was asked. After all, you had more than a sneaking suspicion of who the killer had been.

You were almost certain it had been Yeosang who had killed her. And though his actual motive behind the crime had been less clear to you, you had no doubt it had been him. It was all too coincidental for it to not have been him. His threats towards the woman had been damning enough, but his use of referring to humans as pigs had been what had tied it all together for you. Only daemons were prideful enough to refer to humans as something so unclean.

In your initial panic, you had been sure his motive had been sinister, sure he had killed her to pin the blame on you and rid the world of one more mutt, but as time went on and your emotions began to reign themselves back in, you weren't so sure. In some ways it did make sense. He had lied about who he was, so there was no telling what else he had been lying about, but the explanation didn't clear everything up. As much as you were certain he had used you in that moment - he was a daemon, after all - you couldn't shake the sincerity in his eyes when he had first taken you in. It had been impossible for him to fully hide his hatred towards the woman who had threatened you, but when it came to you, he had shown nothing but care and compassion. The way his fingers had trailed across your cheek had been so terribly gentle that you couldn't see how he was just acting in that moment.

And for just a second, you had allowed yourself to contemplate another scenario. One where her death hadn't been an act against you, but one for you.

It was crazy. Absolutely insane. But what if it was true? What if he had killed her because she had harmed you? Because she had threatened your life?

You had always assumed the daemons had lied when they claimed they had no intention of harming you, including when they had gone so far as to offer you protection. You had been certain it was all a lie because their general, this Seonghwa, had ultimately attacked you in the end and marked you as a traitor to your own people. At least, that was how you had seen it all before. But now. Now you weren't so sure.

The only way things started to line up in a way that made sense was when you finally allowed yourself to consider the option the daemons weren't lying, at least not when it came to your safety. That maybe, just maybe, they had been telling the truth when they had claimed no harm would come to you. They were well aware you were someone on the other side now, so maybe their intention of unmasking you was so they really could protect you from themselves when the war came to an end. By marking you with the king's sigil, they were risking possibly exposing you as a traitor to the humans, but it must have been a risk they were willing to take when they had spies on the other side. This was why the voice from that first night back home had told you there was no need to be afraid. It was why he had said they would make sure you remained safe because they had people who could protect you from your own side now that they knew who you were. All this you had come to with little hesitation because it did, in a way, make sense. You had saved the lives of their soldiers, saved the life of one of their generals, so they had gone and returned the favor just like they said they would.

It was the way they had gone about saving your life among a few other minute details that left you so unnerved by the prospect.

Your first concern was the voice that had spoken to you inside your head. You had chalked it up to exhaustion in the beginning, not quite wanting to face the truth of it, but now you were left with little other choice. After the events of the past few days, you knew this voice was no figment of your imagination. Who the voice might have been and how they were doing it, though, was still unknown to you.

Your first thought had been Seonghwa. He had been the one who had started all this, but the voice hadn't sounded like him. And it didn't sound like Yeosang either, so then who? The daemon king? That was the only other possible solution you could come up with, but the idea of it being him who had spoken to you was so improbable and insane, you had tossed it out the moment it had crossed your mind. The voice might have said that anyone who harmed you would face the daemon king's wrath, but that didn't mean he was the one who had said it to you. Because why would the daemon king hold any interest in you? Why would he want anything to do with someone of your kind? Of your status?

And yet, despite who had actually said it, the threat had still rang true. Here was a woman who had not only threatened your life, but also raised a hand against you, and she was struck dead by an agent of the king in less than a day. You liked to think it was a coincidence. Wanted to think it was nothing more than a coincidence, but you knew better than that. Her death had not been an accident. It had not been an act committed to strike fear into the humans' hearts. And it hadn't been an act to spite you as a halfbreed. Her death had come because she had threatened you. Because she had hurt you.

As much as the idea should have comforted you in knowing they were being sincere in their offer of keeping you safe and alive throughout the remainder of the war, you felt the complete opposite. You hadn't liked the woman. Hell, perhaps a small part of you had even wished she would die, but you never actually wanted her to die for what she had done. And not only was she now dead, but you were the whole reason for it. Unknowingly or not, you had played a role in her death and now a part of her blood rested on your hands just as much as the one who had killed her.

It was hard to tell which scenario made you feel worse. On one hand, the idea that Yeosang might have not actually used you, that a part of him had actually cared for you, filled you with a warmth that came back much too quickly for your liking. But on the other, the fact he had willingly killed her for something so small left you shivering with disgust and fear. For if they killed her for something as small as a threat of a report, what else would they do? Who else would they kill? How much blood would they taint your hands with? There were thousands of people who hated you. Hundreds of people who mistreated you. Would they kill each and every one of them?

And yet, despite it all, you still dreaded giving Yeosang up. He had lied to you - what all about, you still weren't sure. He was a daemon. He had killed that woman, and yet, giving him up was something you didn't think you could do. At least not willingly.

You knew how important the information was, knew telling them a daemon spy was in the city wrecking mayhem all because of you was important information, but you didn't want to give it up. Whether this was simply because you were terrified of the repercussions it might have or whether you knew doing it would reveal yourself or cause Yeosang to come after you next. Or whether it was because a part of you thought he might have still held a semblance to the man who had been so terribly kind to you, you didn't know. You just wished it hadn't came to this moment right here, where you were left with no choice but to give him up.

"I...I-"

Before any of the information you had been dreading to speak could come out, your mouth promptly closed. And while under normal circumstances this might have relieved you, the fact it had not been yourself who had just closed it left you with the opposite reaction. If it wasn't for the fact you no longer seemed to have control of the rest of your body as well, you were pretty sure the panic that had exploded inside you in that moment would have been showing a lot more on the outside.

"No, sir. I have no idea who might have done such a thing." The lie, that you said, but had definitely not been said on your own volition, rolled off your tongue with an ease that should have been impossible. "I haven't seen anyone who might have wanted to harm her, but have you ever stopped to think this might not have been a murder?" You tried to stop the words from coming out, but nothing you did would stop yourself. "Have you stopped to think that maybe she had been the spy herself and played a part in her murder to start a panic?"

"You think Ms. Hak did this to herself?" The interrogator leaned forward in his seat once more, interested in whatever nonsense you - or more so, whoever was currently controlling you - were spouting.

Relax, angel. I'm going to get you through this.

You tensed as the voice spoke inside your head once more, a clear sign that whoever was doing this to you was also the daemon who had spoken to you in your head that first night. But while you inwardly screamed at him to stop what he was doing right then and there and that you didn't need nor want his help, he didn't seem to hear. Either that, or he just didn't care.

Please, just relax for me, will you, pretty? It makes it much easier for me when you aren't actively trying to fight me for control.

"The woman had just come from Yuchae, right? Perhaps something had happened to her there that caused her death last night and not something that had happened here."

And though you wanted to keep fighting him, terrified by the power this unknown daemon had over you, there was nothing you could do to stop him. All you could do was sit there, powerless in your own body, and let him do whatever it was he wanted.

There you go, angel. Nice and easy, see? Just a little longer and it'll all be over. Let me get you out of this, okay, pretty? Let me help you.

"Daemons have all sorts of strange and terrifying powers, especially the Seven. Perhaps she had a run in with one of them in Yuchae that caused this incident to occur. And perhaps the reason why she created the commotion in the infirmary with me yesterday was to simply throw suspicion away from the idea that the daemons truly were the ones behind it and pin it on us, half-daemons."

"Tell me you don't actually believe this bullsh-" The guard from before started once more, unable to keep his mouth shut a second time. But the interrogator stopped him before he could finish his statement.

"Weirder things have happened before," he replied, but there was a strange sort of smile on his face. One that neither of his colleagues could see but was on full display for you. "Besides, she's only speaking about what she believes to have happened. You might be right and this is nothing more than nonsense, but I think we can safely assume she had nothing to do with Ms. Hak's murder, don't you agree?"

It was then that you finally took notice of the pressure in your chest. It didn't feel quite as hollow as it normally did, mimicking a similar feeling to the one Yeosang's presence had brought you the day before. You had just been so panicked beforehand, that you hadn't noticed the way it seemed to thrum before him. Your eyes widened as you took the officer's appearance in once more, the realization of what this might have meant hitting you at the teasing smile he suddenly sent your way.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, taking note of your reaction and tilting his head. The playful demeanor felt so strange and foreign in the body of the man before you, but there was no mistaking it. He was a daemon just like Yeosang. Or... was he simply Yeosang in disguise again?

Nope, try again, angel.

The voice that spoke in your head this time was different than the one before, and based on the way the man's eyes glittered deviously in your direction all but confirmed it had been him who had said it despite his voice not matching the one that had just rung in your mind. Not only did he speak with a different lilt in his accent, but the voice was younger, sweeter.

"You're-" you started once you found you had your voice back, but the other daemon must have still been observing the scene and quickly shut your moth before you could say anything damning about either of them. "No, sir. I'm just still a bit shaken at the idea a daemon could be hiding amongst us without us even realizing it."

"Well, if that's all then, I'd say we're finally done here." The man winked at you as he stood up, all but confirming the conclusion you had come to seconds earlier. "Have a great rest of your day, Miss l/n, but do us a favor and try and stay away from trouble, will you, angel?"

"You're just going to let the mutt go?" The guard asked, face incredulous as he started you down. "The victim was going to report her and she dies on her way home before the report could be filed. The bitch knows something and we both know it."

"What part of this conversation did you not understand, Chang? Or are you just that big of an idiot?" The interrogator's shoulders tensed at the outburst, eyes darkening as he turned to face him. "She told us everything she knows. The girl says she didn't have anything to do with the murder, and we can safely assume she's telling the truth since it would be impossible for her to tell us otherwise."

"Park's right. The whole situation seems a bit too coincidental if you ask me, but we all saw her drink the potion. The girl is innocent. It must have just been a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time." The other guard butted in, rolling her shoulders out. "We've got a long day in front of us as it is and I would really like to be home in time for dinner. Let's not waste any more time here than we have already."

Chang seemed like he wanted to rebuke both of their statements, but kept his mouth shut. Instead, his eyes seemed to bore into your still seated figure, and you didn't doubt he would have acted out his frustration if the two of you had been alone. However, he was left with no choice but to follow the other two officers out as the interrogator grabbed hold of his shoulder and pulled him out of the room.

The second the door swung shut behind them, your head collapsed inside your hands and a shaky breath escaped your lips. Full control of your body may have been given back to you, but the lingering feeling of his presence left you terrified. Much more terrified than anything you had felt during the actual interrogation from the humans. Or, well, the daemon, really. And doubt you had felt towards his true nature had been tossed out the window the moment he had spoken to you inside you head.

Once again, you were left with little relief from escaping the interrogation with your life intact, filled with the all too familiar feeling of confusion and fear. You were once again at a complete loss on what had just happened or why it had happened. It might have helped solidify the conclusion you had slowly come to in that the daemons were following through with their promises, but why? Why did they put so much effort into protecting you? Sure, you had saved many of their lives, but why go through so much trouble to make sure you didn't die on them in the meantime? Why were there daemons speaking to you in your mind? And who was that first daemon? How had he gotten access to your mind and how had he taken control of your body?

You scoured your brain for the answers, scrambling to remember anything from that night so many weeks ago. Whatever had happened that night held the answers you yearned for, but time had long since glossed the memories over. No matter how hard you racked your mind for answers, the conversation you had held with the general was long gone. Only fragments now remained. None of which helped you now.

Whether it was the interrogation that left you so shaken or the daemons that haunted your mind, you struggled to focus on your work once they were done with you. With tensions between humans and your kind higher than ever due to the death of Ms. Hak, you were forced into the back rooms to brew. But while potion brewing had always served as a way to help relax and distract you, it was different this time. Nothing you did helped to calm your racing mind and you found yourself making mistakes more often than not. And when you had messed up your third potion for the day by miscounting the number of stirs and forced to throw the contents out and start afresh, Suho finally sent you home once again with orders to get some rest and try again tomorrow.

You attempted to fight him on the matter again, but ultimately knew he was right. You may have been the best healer in the city, but you were useless to them in your current mindset. Stocks were low as it was and you couldn’t afford to waste any more. For the first time in a long time you felt utterly useless.

Hak Seongmin was dead because of you. Because you had failed to deescalate the commotion. Because you had been too caught up in the incident to use your brain and act accordingly. And despite the daemons playing a role in this mess, you were only still alive because of them. If they hadn’t stepped in, you would likely find yourself at death’s door after being forced to reveal your deepest and darkest secrets. And now you couldn’t even brew potions any more. The one thing in life you prided yourself on, and you couldn’t even do it. You were the person the city, no, the humans, leaned on when it came to healing, and it had come down to the point you were more useful at home doing nothing.

Was there even a point to try and stay alive anymore? Was there any purpose of continuing to fight the death that seemed to cling to you? You didn’t know anymore, and wondered if it would be easier on everyone if you just allowed yourself to succumb to the fate you had chosen for yourself when you had attempted to play hero and donned yourself as the Black Angel.

The sudden twist of your thoughts scared you, and you did your best to push them back, ashamed at even thinking about it. None of it was true. You knew that, but knowing it and believing it were two different things. And despite knowing your life was still something worth fighting for, it was becoming harder to actually believe it when the thought of succumbing to your fate was so much easier. It wasn’t like anyone would care if you died. In fact, your death might actually be celebrated. One less mutt to worry about. One less mutt contaminating the city.

You shook your head, doing your best to shake the lies away. People would care. Soomin and Hyunwoo would care. Your emotions were just getting the better of you. You were just letting your fear dictate your thoughts.

With the sudden turn your thoughts had taken, you quickly learned being at home was no better than being at work, and in some ways, it was worse. Both of your siblings were still out at work, leaving the house all to yourself for the afternoon. The privacy and alone time had used to be something you craved, but found the silence suffocating this time around. All it did was leave you alone with your thoughts, the very thing you had been trying to escape all along.

When even sleep escaped your grasp, you decided the best thing to do was to go out. It was beginning to be dangerous leaving yourself all alone, and hoped a walk and some fresh air would help alleviate your racing mind and quell the darker thoughts that had began to take root. Grabbing the cloak you had yet to fix since that night, you pulled the hood over your head as you made your way out the door, hoping for enough anonymity to prevent anyone from bothering you. The few hours you had spent in the clinic had been enough to show you the outcome the woman’s death had caused, and while you had thought the day before had been rough, it was nothing compared to what you had faced today. Nearly every human who had laid eyes on you had some sly comment to make towards you, whether it was to your face or just loud enough to make sure you overheard. It didn’t matter you had since been proven innocent. The guilt was still placed upon you.

You had no specific destination in mind as you walked, sticking to the less traveled paths as you went. The cool, autumn air helped to calm your mind some, but even it couldn’t distract you fully. No one paid much mind to you as you went, one of the runes Soomin had stitched into the fabric of your cloak made you less likely to be seen, even in the daylight, and you could hear the rumors floating around. Last night’s murder was on everyone’s mind and rumors about what it meant flew through the air.

Some thought it nothing more than a terrible prank, a murderer who had used the growing threat of the daemons to throw the scent off his trail. Others took it for what it was: a sign of what was to come. That once the city of Yuchae finally fell against the daemon forces assaulting it, they would move on to Maehwa. And some, though these were in the minority, were close to the truth. That it was a sign the battle for Maehwa had already come. That daemons had already infested the city and Ms. Hak’s death was a sign of the death and destruction that was to come in the following days.

You, on the other hand, knew none of these rumors and speculations were the whole truth. Perhaps her death did hold a promise of the battle that was coming and that daemons were already in the city, but none of that was why she had been killed. She had died because she had dared to raise a hand against you, an action that had caused her to be on the receiving end of their wrath. Why, you still couldn’t quite figure it out, and just prayed no one else succeeded in following her lead. You didn’t want any more blood on your hands than there already was.

The sun had begun to set by the time you decided it would be best if you returned home. While the walk had answered none of the questions running through your head, it had helped to calm you down a bit and allow the exhaustion from the lack of sleep you had gotten the night before to finally catch up with you.

You were only about halfway back when a bell began to echo throughout the streets, stopping you in your path altogether. The fear you had attempted to push away came back in full force as the bells which served as a warning for coming danger began to ring throughout the city.

The daemons had finally arrived. Maehwa was under attack.

@layzfeelit @calirix @seonghwarizon @yunho0o0o0 @blglmgk01 @marievllr-abg @ddeonghwva @rosie-hao @malyxsoulpersonal @kirooz @violetpenguinkris @woosmaid @eggyomelet @wooya1224 @mulanateez @kimi-kiwi @eastleighsblog @baguette-atiny @yourleftsock @dear-dreamie @uriruwi

a/n: I know last post there were some issues with the tags. Not sure what entirely happened, but maybe it’ll work this time. If not, or I missed someone, I’m sorry once again. Please, let me know!

#ateez x reader #ateez #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #jongho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fantasy au #yandere #yandere ateez

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lady-ashfade · 1 year

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Yandere Daemon Targaryen x Lannister reader. HC’s.

Request by anon: How about a spoiled Lannister Darling with yandere Daemon she has this man wrapped around her fingers also he leaves her during the war with crab feeders and she's super mad so he has to grovel after getting back.

Notes: So I’ve never done a romantic daemon before, and i honestly never thought I would was. But this request had me interested. So forgive me if it’s bad. Also this was the same plot but also different. I tried not to make it go over the top. But this was so fun to make.

Taglist: @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @second-try-stevie @prettyinblack231

Warnings: A bit of suggestions themes, yandere tendencies, the reader is constant in everything, daemon being a simp. Might be poor edited since it’s late.

Lets go back to where it all started. When the young lioness and dragon first met.

Givin your family’s high station you were welcome to the castle for some occasions.

You grew up with a wealthy family who spoiled you to no extent and as time went on you got used to it and demanded it. From the most beautiful dresses to jewelry to your own horses and carriages.

When you went to the castle you found a prince there who was only a few years older then you. You how you acted like you didn’t really care for him and that made the boy grow angry.

No one ever ignored him. He was a prince and every girl threw themselves at his feet begging to just have him give her a bit of attention. You were different.

He had to get your attention somehow. Maybe fighting someone in front of you, or going up to you and starting conversation. As he keep reappearing you gave less and less interest and appeared bored. This made his mind scream to just have your attention. That’s where his obsession started.

When you had to leave his poor heart ached and even tried to talk people into having you stay. But you had to go back home with your family. He made one final gesture before you lefted.

He new you went on walks in the gardens each morning for some fresh air. He knew what you did at every point in the day. So he was waiting for you there. He had a necklace made just for you with a dragon on it, even a dark horse waiting by him. He was always over dramatic.

“I hope this is to your liking.”

And it was . You always wanted his attention and were attracted to him when you first laid eyes on him. But you knew how to play games on men, you always had them fight over you so you grew to study them. And of course gifts were always the way to your heart.

“She is a beauty.” You replied and walked up the horse ignoring him as you pet her. “Would you put it on me.” You asked moving your hair out of the way. He felt a wave of thrill at your words. He did and stood so close to you. The way you breathed, smelled like the freshest flowers and your soft skin. He needed you.

Turning to look at him to stare up at him with playful but innocent eyes. “Thank you.” And then you had the boys heart stop by placing a kiss on his cheek. Of course the boy has done more then this with whores but this was something knew. This was love. And it was you.

You walked away from the him and he just watched you. His smirk and heart raised because he knew one thing. Sooner of later you will be his. Because he knew that you were meant to be his by fate.

A few years of not seeing each other, only at name days and by letters. He sent them but you rarely replied but you read each and every one of them and even kept them all under your bed. Just by the way he spoke and wrote you could tell you had the boy fallen for you.

He sent jewelry and dresses. Anything he could find it was at your door in less then a week. You didn’t do much but when you did it was subtle. Like spraying perfume on the letters to make them smell like you, or praising him just a bit, or talking about things he enjoyed.

He took you one dragon back as much as he could but you refused knowing it would give him to much pride. But you did love petting the dragon and spend time with them both. And on his 17 name day you shared your first kiss.

Of course as years passed and he begged his brother to marry you but to his wishes it wasn’t. After a few mouths of being married he received a letter from you telling him your sadness and regrets. Saying how you wished you had been asked. And that was the icing on the cake for daemon.

He killed his wife just at the thought of it pleasing you.

But when he came to visit late and night you both confessed you feeling and shared a loving night together. He was willing to give you everything. And he did. He couldn’t refuse you. He was willing to do anything you you asked. Anything.

You two wedded a few mouths later and his brother even hosted the wedding. He was suspicious that daemon did something but at least he didn’t have to worry about him doing the same thing to you. And to Viserys you were important because he knew daemon would do anything you tell him to. And that’s useful but also a weakness.

years went on and he still treated you with the same love and obsession as it always did. But it came with other traits. You started to notice less time spent alone but that wasn’t a problem, but any man you spoke with would be found dead. Or how you saw daemon close by at any point, standing over you like some guard dog.

But know you were spoiled by not only your family but him. Any fight you to had he was sleeping on the floor and he had to beg you to forgive him and also gifts and lots of them. And you can make them anything you want…even physical if you wanted.

When you got pregnant the man literally never left your side. He never was really keen on being a father but now he was over joyed at the thought of your kids. And you being his his child. Man wouldn’t let you have a moment alone unless you wanted something far, like a fruit that grow across the seas and is only sold there. Don’t worry he will be back by the morning.

You need to use the bathroom? He will be staying as close as he can or out the door, need your feet and body rubbed? No problem he can help. He always had a hand on you to keep you safe. Once a servant got your food wrong and you cried about it…they are now dead.

You had one child before he was off to go off to war…And let’s just say you didn’t like that idea. You yelled at him and begged him not to leave you but he did say it was better so he could protect you. He had to think about your last words to him the entire time he was fighting.

“If you leave I might not let you back into mine, or our sons lives.”

He knew there would be hell to pay.

When daemon finally did come back he wasn’t aloud in your courtiers. In fact he had his own room with his stuff moved into it and everything was dusty. He noticed all the gifts he gave you from a long time ago, each letter that was sent and then the first necklace he had gotten you.

He would scream to be let in while you were with your son. But after a while the screams came to a end but that doesn’t mean he is done. He knew you wanted him to claw his way back and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

When night finally came after two days of not seeing him he killed the guards outside your room and entered. “My heart please.” You rolled your eyes and continued to read a book acting as though he was not there. “My love.” His voice begging you to look at him. Anything.

“Please. Yell or scream, do anything you wish but just look at me. I can not bare having you hate me so. Every day it is you who I think about constantly and it is you who I live for. Please just let me make my way back to you.” He was now in front of you on his knees with begging eyes.

And for the first time in years he saw your eyes. “And tell me how you plan on making your way back to me?” Shutting the book. “I have been alone raising our son and having to wonder if my husband is dead. At some point I quit caring and you know you deserve nothing from me.” He groaned when you took his face into your hands at a hard grip.

“Tell me why you deserve to be at my side?. And I hope you didn’t come empty handed or this is the last time you feel my touch.” The way your fingers crushes his cheeks was just so intoxicating to him. And he knew you were right.

Daemon was never one to submit to anyone but for you he was always soft. “I have come with a crown my brother let me keep it. Anything you want from here on at I will do. I have twenty ships full of jewels and dress, and fruits and more. I have found three dragons eggs for our son and maybe more to hatch. I will be your humble servant for the rest of my days, begging night and day just to be at your side.” His eyes never leaving yours as he stared up at you. So honest and truthful.

You missed your husband dearly but after leaving you, you just couldn’t let him come back so easily but his offer sounded good enough to you.

“That’s good because I like you begging. You’ll do it every morning and night just like you said.”

A lioness couldn’t help but play with her prey. And the prey loved every minute of it.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen x reader #yandere daemon targaryen

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bitchysoulwasteland · 1 year

Text

Thranduil x Modern Soulmate Reader

Word Count: 3,367

Thranduil had always wondered who his soulmate was. But, that didn't apparently matter to his father, who insisted that he married a princess, to strengthen Mirkwood's power. He knew certain bits and pieces about his soulmate. For example, they liked music as they were always humming some tune that only he could hear. Their favourite song was called 'Keep Yourself Alive' by a band apparently called Queen. He also knew that, due to the fact soulmates could see each other's dreams, they did not hail from Middle Earth.

He thought he knew his soulmate well, until one night, he was pulled from his own dream and into a nightmare of war. It was night, he could tell that much. Everything had an eerie green glow as his soulmate looked through an eyepiece for any threats. Within seconds, it went from quiet to deafening. Guns blazed around as a man diffused something. Shots fired from his soulmate hit their mark, even in the darkness. The man jogged back to them, the soldiers regrouping and getting into the vehicle. As his soulmate turned their back, they were hit by something in their right shoulder.

"We need medics at base, a.s.a.p. Sergeant Y/n L/n has been hit. Bullet wound to the shoulder. I repeat, Sergeant Y/n L/n has been hit." A woman's voice spoke over radio. Other shouts for medical treatment echoed in the small space, but, everything was muffled as shouts of 'stay with me, Y/n!' were herd various times.

"Don't you dare die on me, Y/n. This group has been through way too much to lose its best woman." The same female voice said as his soulmate's eyes fell closed.

That was when he woke up, in a cold sweat, his covers in the floor. He moved his hair out of his eyes as he looked around him. He was safe and sound. He worried about his soulmate, searching his brain for her name. The name he had herd when she had been hit. Y/n. Sergeant Y/n L/n. He scribbled her name on a piece of paper and put it on his bedside cabinet for later.

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You woke up in a medical bay, not really any memory of what had happened. You remembered shots. You turned your back and felt as though you had been punched in the back. Adrenaline had kept the pain at bay, now, unfortunately, it had worn off. You tried to sit up as you saw the Lieutenant Colonel walk through the door of the tent.

"Don't get up, Sergeant. I just wanted to give you this." He handed you a letter from HQ. "I also want to thank you for your service to the nation. You've done immensely well. You should be proud." You knew he had herd about your resignation from the Army, probably from HQ. You also knew that although he pretended to be cold, he was actually a nice person on the inside.

"Thank you, sir." You said.

"Good luck with civilian life, Y/n. I mean it. Bluestone 42 won't be the same without you. As you were."

"Thank you, sir." You said as he walked out of the tent with a nod.

Six weeks of recovery and a day of travelling later, you were unlocking your London house, after two years of not touching it. You put your bags by the door, took off your uniform cap, coat and boots, leaving them beside your bag, before turning the electric back on, by the meter, along with the water and central heating. You put the kettle on and flumped onto the sofa, exhaustion draining from your body. No sooner had the kettle boiled was there a knock at the door. Reluctantly, you answered it. You couldn't quite believe what you were seeing. Thranduil. From The Hobbit. Or, at least an extremely good lookalike.

"May I help you?"

"My name is Thranduil and I was hoping that you could show me the quickest way back to Middle Earth." You raised an eyebrow in complete disbelief. "I'm only asking as yours was the first house I came across."

"Hate to break it to you, but as much as I would love for fictional worlds to be real, they're not. Nice costume, though Halloween isn't until October, Barbie."

"What is this 'Halloween' you speak of, and who is this 'Barbie', mortal?" Okay. Maybe he was the real deal.

"It's a time when people put up decorations of pumpkins and ghosts, witches, ghouls, goblins and other magical stuff. And Barbie, is a kids toy. She's a doll with long blonde hair."

"Aside from the toy, why would anyone want to worship goblins?" You saw the hatred. No, disgust in his eyes and remembered the movies.

"The goblins aren't worshipped. It's about remembering dead relatives. The goblins and all of that are just meant to scare kids. You look freezing, come in. I can't promise a way back to Middle Earth, but I can make a decent meal." You said before hid did so. You closed the door behind him.

"You're very kind to a stranger.."

"Y/n. Sergeant Y/n L/n." He took off his shoes by the door "Just through here." You noticed the state of his robes. "D'you want me to get you some clean clothes? I should have some somewhere."

"What's wrong with my royal robes." He stated, matter of factly as he stood in his socks, still looking regal.

"You can't really go walking around on earth in robes, mate. You'll be a laughing stock. Besides, they're muddy." You walked upstairs as he followed close behind. You walked into your bedroom and began looking for the clothes. You went in your drawers and pulled out a stonewash blue Guns n Roses t-shirt, passing it to him. Then, you found the birthday presents that you had never given your family, as you had signed up for service. A navy blue hoodie and black denim jeans, along with a leather belt. The bathroom is just across there. You said as he went to go and change. You noticed that you were still in uniform, so you swiftly changed into jeans, a Queen t-shirt and a grey Rolling Stones hoodie.

You walked out of the room at the same time Thranduil did. "Where would you like me to put these?" He asked as you took the sight in. He looked hotter than you'd seen him on the films in normal clothes. And the hoodie and jeans were doing everything for his look. He looked at you, slightly surprised at how good someone could look in such simple clothes.

"Erm, just leave 'em on there and I'll was them for you." You said, gesturing to the wash basket. He placed his folded clothes on the basket. "So, what kind of food do you like?" You asked as you both walked downstairs and into the kitchen to see what you had got, food wise.

"I don't mind. In Mirkwood, we usually have majority of Middle Earth's cuisines." Ok now he was just showing off. You looked in fridge, freezer and the cupboards, but other than some icicles and some cups, there was nothing.

"I haven't been here in about two years since I went in the Army. We could order food in?" You tried the house phone, which had been disconnected. "Let's go out to eat." You said as you grabbed your keys from the shelf above the kitchen counter. The pair of you walked to the door. You slipped your converse on as he put on his boots. Luckily, the trousers covered most of the shins of them. Thranduil was about to undo the door when you stopped him. "C'mere. If you have your hair like that, someone's bound to notice you're not human." You said as he stepped closer to you, so you were face to chest, due to his height. You got up on the bottom step behind him. You tied his hair in a low bun before stepping in front of him to tease a few strands to cover the points of his ears. "Perfect." You whispered as you locked eyes with him, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You wanted to kiss him right then and there. You cleared your throat as a blush made its way across your cheeks. "We should be going." You muttered, not trusting your own voice.

On the walk around the path to your car, he slipped his hand in yours. You looked at the floor, trying to hide your face, by instinct. Thranduil stopped walking. You stopped a foot after him. He turned you so you were looking at him. "I've waited years to meet you, Y/n. I've never met anyone like you. This is probably premature, but, I love you." He whispered before he lent in and kissed you. You didn't have to stand on your toes with him. His arms pulled you closer by your waist as yours went around his neck. Images of both of your pasts flashed before both of your eyes. He was the one. Your soulmate. You had only ever been told that you would see images of each other's pasts. You didn't think it was true, until then. After what felt like a lifetime, you pulled away for air.

"I love you too, Thran." He smirked at the nickname you gave him, a smile on your own lips. You felt something fall on your head, and within moments, you were standing out in the pouring rain with Thranduil. "This is gonna be so cliché, but, wanna dance in the rain?" You asked as you took his had and led him to the middle of the now empty car park. Holding you close, you both waltzed around the area, until a car horn pulled you from the romantic moment. You both ran to your car and you unlocked it as you both opened the doors and got into the dry. "That was the most fun I've had in ages." You breathed as you ran a hand though your wet hair. Turning the engine on, you began to drive. Noticing the time, you had a better plan than to drive to a fancy restraint that you could undoubtedly not afford. Houses and buildings fell back from the scenery as you drove along the M25 from London. Soon enough, you found a service station. You went into the McDonalds Drive Thru and ordered two Big Mac meals and two McFlurries.

Half an hour later, you were back on the road again.

Thranduil couldn't help but stare at you as he took in your features. Your h/c hair was curling slightly at your temples, from being wet. Your e/c eyes gleamed as you watched the road whilst talking to him.

"So, back in Middle Earth, what do you do?"

"I'm prince if Mirkwood. I ride elks and horses and I have to attend the most boring gatherings ever."

"So, the usual royalty stuff then." You laughed. "All heirs and graces, yeah?" You said in a faux posh accent.

He couldn't help but laugh along with you "Something like that, yes, meleth." He watched how your laugh lit up your features "What do you do?"

"Well, I was an aspiring singer and dancer. But, I couldn't get any roles or attention from the big names I needed to. I was loosing money, fast. I was on the brink of loosing everything. The house, this car. So, I found an option. I joined the army and became an ATO in Afghanistan. It wasn't the first choice, or the cosy one, but it was to help people, and to help myself." He looked at you sympathetically but blankly as you figured he wouldn't know what you were talking about after the word ATO. "Bomb disposal." He still looked at you blankly. "I was a soldier. Until I resigned."

"What made you resign?"

"Job lost its appeal, I s'pose. I tell you what, if I had the gift of foresight I wouldn't have made half of the mistakes I did." You drove I silence for a while, until your SatNav tells you that you have reached your destination. You parked the car on the seafront and got out of it before locking it. "I hope you like the sea, your highness, cos here we are. The White Cliffs Of Dover." You put a blanket over the bonnet and sat beside Thranduil. You then pulled the corners of the large blanket over you both, his arms pulling you into his lap.

"It's beautiful." He said, resting his chin on your shoulder as you leaned into him, your head on his shoulder, watching the sunrise over the sea.

When the sun had risen higher, you spoke again "Y'see that dark line on the horizon that starts there and ends just there," you pointed "that's France. There's a song about these cliffs. And a story. When pilots were flying back to England during the Second World War, they would look for these cliffs and know that they were home." You didn't say anymore, instead, you began singing.

"There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, just you wait and see I'll never forget the people I met Braving those angry skies I remember well as the shadows fell The light of hope in their eyes And though I'm far away I still can hear them say "Thumbs up!" For when the dawn comes up There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, just you wait and see There'll be love and laughter And peace ever after Tomorrow, when the world is free The shepherd will tend his sheep The valley will bloom again And Jimmy will go to sleep In his own little room again I may not be near, but I have no fear History will prove it too When the tale is told It will be as of old For truth will always win through; But be I far or near That slogan still I'll hear "Thumbs up!" For when the dawn comes up There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, just you wait and see

When night shadows fall, I'll always recall Out there across the sea Twilight falling down on some little town It's fresh in my memory I hear mother pray And to her baby say "Don't cry!" This is her lullaby There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, just you wait and see."

Thranduil looked at you with pure adoration as you finished the song. He took off one of the rings he was wearing and put it on your hand. You took your phone out and took a picture of the two of you, the cliffs in the background, made it your lock screen, then took a picture of the sunset before falling asleep in your love's arms.

"That was magnificent, my sergeant."

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It had been three months since you had woken up alone. You hadn't entirely expected him to be there when you woke up. He had put you in the back seats of your car, the blanket over you. But, what you hadn't accounted for was the loneliness you felt when you woke up alone. You shouldn't have fallen for him. Even if he was the one. The only thing you had left of him was his robes and the ring he gave you.

To get your mind off of the Elvenking, you went for a walk in your local forest. But, halfway through the forest, you tripped and fell. When you got up, you were no longer where you had fallen. You recognised the all too familiar shadow of the ruins of Dale a few meters before you. You were in the Battle Of Five Armies. Thankfully, the battle had not yet begun. You got onto your feet, noticing the rip in the jeans and the crack in your phone screen as it had fallen from your pocket. You ignored both. If you were in the third Hobbit movie, then that means that you had a chance of seeing Thranduil again. Running as fast as your body would allow, you made it into Dale. You stopped to catch your breath as you looked around you. The people of Laketown were preparing for battle. You silently thanked whoever controlled the universe when you saw armour clad elves.

You were about to move when shouts came your way. "Oi." You tried to ignore the voice, belonging to Alfred. "We don't want any more beggars 'ere. Or any more wizards or vagabonds." With every word, you took a step away from him.

"I'm here to see Thranduil. I'm from Rohan. I owe him a great deal of gratitude after he helped save my sister a short while ago from illness and most likely death, and I intend on seeing him to thank him once more." You just hoped that you had sounded convincing enough to pass for an inhabitant of Middle Earth with the whopping lie you just told.

He looked at you sceptically. "Follow me." He said as you did just that. He led you to a yellow tent.

"What do you want now, Alfred?" Bard said in a bored tone.

"There is a woman here that claims to be from Rohan. She said that the king of Mirkwood saved her sister from death, so she would like to show her gratitude." Thranduil looked up from his wine glass, not remembering doing any such thing.

"If you touch me with your grubby little mitts once more, I'll be your next big issue." Thranduil herd this as Alfred kept one hand on the woman, who was just out of sight.

"Send her in." Thranduil said, knowing your voice anywhere.

"As you wish." The man stated, pushing you inside the tent, tripping you up in the process, before walking off.

"Arsehole." You muttered as you dropped your phone for the second time today.

"How do I know that you're my Sergeant L/n?" He gazed at you, as if looking for a fault that you were not the same woman he had been ripped from the arms of by fate and someone's magic.

"I met you on my doorstep, half an hour after I had just got back from being posted in Afghanistan. You stood in front of me and told me who you were. I didn't believe you at first. Until I spoke about Halloween and called you Barbie and you had no idea what I was on about. I offered you food, but then saw I had no food cos I hadn't been back for two years. I tied your hair in a bun. You were wearing the blue hoodie. Then, then went out and danced in the rain until we were soaked. We went to McDonalds and both had a Big Mac meal and McFlurries. We then drove to Dover and I showed you where France was. I sang the White Cliffs Of Dover song as the sun rose. And you gave me this ring." You said as he walked over to you and kissed you like it was the last thing he would ever do. You pulled away and spoke "It's only been three months, Thran."

"It's been three thousand years, my sergeant. I don't plan on ever letting you go again. It's not a coincidence that we met twice. Marry me, please Y/n, you've already got the ring."

You looked into his eyes, knowing you were safe "I'll marry you, Thranduil." you smiled as he kissed you once more.

#thranduil x reader #soulmate au #thranduil fanfiction #lotr x reader #lotr fanfic #thranduil x you #the hobbit x reader

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zerokrox-blog · 1 year

Text

Dialogue Prompts #28 You left your diary in the library and I had to read some of it to figure out who you were

on ao3

Eddie stared hard at the blue notebook on the table in front of him. It was plain aside from the large “KEEP OUT!” sprawled in large letters on the cover. He looked around the library and couldn’t see anyone nearby who could have possibly left it in the furthest corner of the library. He edged towards it slowly.

But once he realized nobody was looking at him or even paying him any mind, he lifted the book and flipped it open hoping to potentially find a name or even something that would direct as to who this belonged to.

“April 2cd” he read,

Today was the worst. I think I may have something wrong with me? Like they smiled at someone in the hallway and I wanted to kiss him them on their stupidly cute face??”

April 4th,

Basketball game later, hope we win.

February 1st

I am dead. Why are they so cute?? Look at his them with their stupidly curly hair?? And pretty black nail polish?? Why do I have have a crush on (there was something smudged as if the writer had erased the name of this person with an eraser so hard it slightly tore the paper)

Grocery List

Apples

Bread

Milk

Eggs

Spices

meat/chicken (whatever is cheaper!!)

Snacks (cheap ones pls)

Beer

March 3,

She apologized. Should I feel bad for ignoring her? I still feel hurt and it wasn’t a good enough apology at least to me. Ehh who cares its just me that got hurt so I guess that is fine.

Eddie snapped the book shut. This was someone’s diary and it was clearly important clearly. But he also was curious who it belonged too. So he looked again for anything but on the next few pages all he saw were some hearts with S+E in them in the margins.

And then, on the last page he saw it.

He couldn’t move or breathe.

Steve Harrington-Munson & Eddie Harrington-Munson

Eddie Munson-Harrington & Steve Munson- Harrington

Eddie Harrington(?) 💗(i like this one more)

Eddie couldn't move. Bc now he knew this belonged to. He should really return it, really he should. But he couldn’t move. He kept staring at the names and felt his heartbeat through his chest.

“Oh can I have-” he heard through the fog, a familiar voice and looked up.

Steve Harrington was reaching for the notebook. His eyes wide with worry, his face white and his hand trembled as he held it out for Eddie to hand it to him.

Eddie took his expression and smiling he closed it and handed it over. But suddenly an idea popped into his head, and he snatched it back, grabbed a pen and scribbled something into the notebook on the last page and handed it back to Steve.

“Here you go Harrington. Sorry I just wanted to know who it belonged too.”

Steve flushed and yanked it to his chest and vanished without another word.

Once he got home he opened it the last page and a soft laugh bubbled out his mouth in both relief and pleasure as he saw what Eddie had written.

I personally like Steve Munson more 💗 cute that you think I’ll take your name. Call me xxx-xxx-4325

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #writing dialogue #dialogue prompt #zerowrites #stranger things

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hopepetal · 7 months

Text

Just wanted to write a fun little ATLA AU fic! Been having a recent nostalgic kick and figured, why not use an idea I had several months back?

I hope you enjoy :)

AO3

The fall air was cool against Impulse’s cheek as he hurried to keep up with Skizz. “C’mon, man!” he laughed out, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket to keep them from getting cold. “Wait up for me, would ya? No need to power walk.”

Skizz glanced back, eyes widening somewhat comically at how far behind Impulse had fallen. “Why don’t you try keeping up, dop?” he teased, though he did slow down to allow Impulse to catch up. “We got places to be, people to see! Can’t just be meandering through Republic City and keeping them waiting all day!”

Impulse rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Tango and his buddies won’t mind waiting the few extra minutes it’ll take us to just walk there.”

They continued to walk in silence for a little, the noise of the city echoing around them. Cars honking, people yelling, dogs barking, the general cacophony of life all around. It was nothing the two weren’t used to, though– having lived in their small Republic City apartment together for years, it was all just white noise. Impulse could hardly sleep without it by now.

They passed by a news stand with newspapers, and Impulse paused briefly to look at the headlines. Something about CabbageCorp and an up and coming competitor, ConCorp. Impulse chuckled softly at that before once again catching up with Skizz. “You think this ConCorp thing’s gonna take off?” he asked conversationally, to which Skizz shrugged.

“I dunno! I kinda think it’s already taken off. Otherwise, good ol’ CabbageCo wouldn’t have paid it any attention. I do think the whole ‘ohh, they’re copying us because they also have two c’s’ thing is stupid, though.” Skizz giggled. “It’s like they think they own a whole letter, man! How crazy is that?”

Impulse shook his head, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “Greedy corporations, man. Ya just can’t stop ‘em.”

Skizz did jazz hands, making his voice go all dramatic. “Ever since the avatar disappeared… no one has been able to stop those greedy, greedy corporations…” He burst out laughing as Impulse rolled his eyes. “Whaaat? C’mon. I’m funny, admit iti!”

“The avatar’s gone, man. I don’t think they’re coming back!” Impulse shrugged. “We don’t need one anymore, anyway. Not like it affects me much to begin with.”

Skizz sighed, clapping a hand on one of Impulse’s shoulders. “Sorry, dimple. Didn’t mean to dampen the mood.”

Impulse looked up at Skizz, mildly bewildered. “I’m not upset. I’m perfectly fine with– Skizz, we’ve talked about this, you know.”

Skizz shrugged a shoulder. “Can never be too careful. Not saying–!” He hurried to correct himself– “not saying you’re fragile or anything, but I don’t wanna bring up things you don’t wanna talk about! Or hear about! Y’know!”

Impulse shook his head, rolling his eyes with a teasing grin. “No wonder you’re an earthbender. Got a head like a rock.” Ignoring Skizz’s jokingly outraged cry, he continued. “So… Tango, did he mention anything about these friends of his? Or nah, was he just gonna leave it up to us to figure things out about them on our own.”

Skizz hummed thoughtfully, trying to think. “Uh… Jimmy and Grian, I think he called them? They’re brothers. Air benders, the both of them.”

Impulse nodded. “Well, hopefully we get along well.”

Skizz grinned. “Yeah. Hope they’re not total airheads.”

“...don’t you dare say that to their faces.”

Skizz held up his hands defensively. “I won’t, I won’t! What do you take me for, some kind of bully?”

Impulse laughed. “No comment.”

They continued the rest of their journey in silence, occasionally making a comment on something or pointing an interesting thing out. Finally, they made it to the park, the sun shining down on the trees and winding man-made river. There was a statue of the last avatar in the park– Korra, her name was? She had died a while before Impulse had been born. He took a moment to gaze up at her weathered features, frowning.

He knew how the story went. Everyone did. The avatar was the only person who could control all four elements, and whenever one avatar died, the “avatar spirit” would reincarnate into a new person. But after Korra, the avatar spirit had just… stopped. There had been no explanation or reason for it, and even after extensive searching, the avatar had not been found. Impulse had been born when the whole panic over losing the avatar had mostly died down into acceptance, but he’d heard of the general chaos and widespread fear during those first few years.

Of course, there were still those who believed the avatar was still around. Impulse had heard some pretty scary things– benders being kidnapped when it was suspected that they could possibly be the avatar. As a nonbender, Impulse had never really had to worry about that, and the whole avatar craze was really just confusing to him. The world was… relatively safe, everything was balanced, the spirit world was open… they really didn’t need an avatar, not anymore!

Impulse had never really been that attached to the story of the avatar as a kid, not like everyone else in his class had. He remembered the first “avatar day” they’d had in school, when him and Skizz as well as a bunch of other kids gathered around the teacher and learned about the avatar in the form of a brightly coloured, highly sanitized children’s book. Everyone had listened, transfixed, while Impulse had picked at his nails. Afterward, Skizz had gone up to Impulse and claimed that when he grew up, he’d become the avatar. Impulse had rolled his eyes at that and told him you couldn’t just grow up to be the avatar.

His parents were both nonbenders as well– their whole family had, though if you traced his lineage back far enough there were some firebenders and earthbenders in the mix. Impulse had never been too unhappy with his nonbender status. Aside from a few bullies in middle and highschool, things were pretty good as a nonbender. He didn’t have to worry about all those strict laws about bending and there was no pressure for him to go off and become some master bender. Instead, he could focus on what really mattered to him– engineering and technology.

So, yeah. Impulse had never been all too attached to the avatar. Not like some people were. But still, gazing up at the old statue, something deep inside him urged him to reach out and touch it. Just once. Even though it was probably really gross and dirty. And Impulse was, well, impulsive.

So he reached out and brushed his fingers against the stone, warmed by the sun.

For a moment, he expected something to happen. Maybe some sort of magic, glowing, maybe a voice or whatever. Which, now that he was thinking about it, was kind of stupid. Why would a lifeless statue start glowing? That was crazy.

“Dop! C’mon, man! Jeez, you cannot keep up today!”

Impulse pulled away, giving one last look up at the statue before running to catch up with Skizz. “Sorry. I think I caught a case of avatar-worship,” he weakly joked, and Skizz rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, dude. Let’s go!”

Soon enough, they spotted Tango standing with two other men. The firebender was bundled up in a red and gray jacket and black sweatpants, his hands gesturing wildly as he chatted with his friends. The shorter airbender wore a cream coloured t-shirt tucked into brown pants, thin glasses sitting on his nose as he listened to Tango talk. The taller one wore a white shirt, a jean jacket, and black jeans.

Skizz raised a hand in greeting. “Heyyy! Tango top, over here!”

Tango shot up, turning around with a big smile on his face to greet Skizz and Impulse. “Hey! Hey, guys! Oh, man, it’s so great to see you again!” He hugged Skizz, before pulling away and patting Impulse on the shoulder. “Hey, buddy! How you been?”

Impulse grinned, crossing his arms. “I’ve been doing alright, man. Nice to see you, too.” He glanced up. “And you must be…”

The taller airbender stuck out a hand. “Jimmy! Pleasure to meet you, mate!” He gave Impulse’s hand a shake, then Skizz’s. “And this is my older brother, Grian.”

Grian nodded, making no move to shake either Impulse or Skizz’s hands. That was fine– some people just didn’t like being touched. “Nice to meet you,” he said simply.

“So!” Skizz started, “how did you two meet our man Tango?”

Jimmy went to speak, but Grian interrupted him. “We met at school, actually!” he chimed, giving a slight smile. “Tango and I did, at least. Then he met my brother through me. They’re much better friends, though. Even though I was here first–”

Jimmy smacked Grian. “Oh, you be quiet! Anyway…” He looked back up at Skizz and Impulse with a wide grin. “Sorry about my brother. He can be really annoying sometimes!”

Skizz laughed. “Nah man, don’t worry about it at all. Impulse is the same way.”

Impulse shot Skizz a shocked glare. “What do you mean?! I most certainly am not the same way, you take that back!”

Tango wheezed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I can tell you guys are gonna get along well. What do you all say to going out for lunch?”

“Sounds like a great idea!” Grian smirked. “So long as you’re paying.”

Tango waved him off. “Of course, of course! I wouldn’t dream of making you guys pay! It’s my treat.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent swapping stories and laughter. The lunch was really good– Tango took them to a traditional fire nation restaurant and explained the whole story there. Impulse of course made sure to wash his hands before eating though– he had just touched a probably very dirty statue, after all. While overseas, he met Grian at some club. After, he’d met Jimmy and hit it off with him. They’d been hanging out with each other and occasionally Grian and Jimmy’s half sister Pearl, and when it had been time for Tango to go back to Republic City he’d asked the three if they’d like to come with him. Grian and Jimmy had agreed, but Pearl had some sacred water tribe duty to attend to so she wasn’t able to come.

Impulse really would’ve loved to stay longer, but something felt a little off. He was starting to get a bit of a headache that refused to go away no matter how much water he drank. So sadly, he had to cut his day a little short.

“Do you want me to come with you, dop?” Skizz had asked, sounding slightly concerned as Impulse gathered his things and zipped up his coat.

Impulse had shook his head, giving Skizz a small smile. “Nah, Skizz. I’m all good to go home alone. You have fun, alright?” His eyes met Grian’s, then Jimmy’s. “It was nice meeting you two, and I hope we’ll be able to hang out again soon. See ya!”

And with that, he headed back to the tiny apartment he shared with Skizz, the evening air a welcome relief to his warm skin. He huffed out a small breath as he walked, the warmth of his breath meeting the cold of the air to turn into a small cloud. It was getting colder out fast– or maybe Impulse was just abnormally warm.

He got back to the apartment, struggling slightly with the lock before he was finally able to get the door open. He hung up his jacket and kicked off his boots, washing his hands before getting himself a glass of water and grabbing some pain medication. Quickly finishing the glass of water, Impulse plopped himself down on the couch and closed his eyes, just trying to let himself relax.

For some reason, the image of the last avatar’s statue came to mind as he relaxed, letting himself drift off to the muffled sounds of city life on the streets below. The more he thought back to it, the more stupid he felt– why would he think that touching a statue would do anything? Why would he even touch the statue in the first place?

All questions for future Impulse, he supposed.

For now, he simply wanted to sleep.

#my writing #twhcfau #<- the title of the fic is the world has changed forever so thats the au name #impulsesv #skizzleman #tangotek #grian #jimmy solidarity

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