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redbleedingrose · 1 day ago

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Can you please write cute fluff headcanons of the acotar men ( whichever you want to write about) pampering their fem s/o with a massage because they see her tense with stress? Please and thank you .

Pleaseeee, the Bat Boys and Vanserra Bro's know how to treat their girls, especially when they are stressy spaghetti!!

I kind of want to split this up into a mini series, so I will do Rhys first. Let me know who y'all want second in the comments!

Rhysand

okay first off, why are you even stressed? This male does his very best to make sure his darling is never worried about anything.

But its okay, sometimes your emotions get the better of you. Not your fault darling, you're just his sweet girl who likes to worry your pretty head about things like how emotionally constipated Az is, or how Cassian is working overtime with his training after throwing out his back (embarrassing for the old ass male), and how Morr is being too secretive these past few months and something is definitely going on with her. Rhys thinks it is so adorable how you worry about the members of the inner circle, how you take care of them in the ways that they need.

He loves watching you pitter patter around the apothecary, trying to gather materials to create a balm for Cass' back. And he can't help but muse over you fussing over Azriel, forcing him into the settee in your office and having yourselves a little therapy session (he knows he will hear the tea about it later when you both go to bed, and he cannot wait). He does moan and groan when you plan for a girls night out with Amren and Morr, he wants to have some alone time with his mate, but you settle into his lap and pepper kisses all over his face and neck putting him into a lovesick daze before rushing off with a promise of what is to come when you arrive home from your night.

Anyway, you do sometimes get overwhelmed, you care so much. You worry about Rhysand, you worry about the inner circle, and more, you worry about Velaris and the entire night court. Being the first high lady of the Night Court has designed a load of pressure on you to be perfect at all times, to always say and do the right thing. And Rhys, well he grew up with that pressure. He knew this was going to happen to him, but he cannot imagine the stress you give yourself. Again, you care so deeply, and that is one of the things that made Rhys fall for you, so much so, he physically aches when you aren't around.

You always try to hide when you feel overwhelmed, too embarrassed and ashamed to admit it. Part of you doesn't want to bother the high lord, knowing he, himself, is incredibly busy putting out fires on a daily basis, and handling it with such grace. It is almost annoying how effortless Rhys rules. But Rhys knows. He knows you, and he knows your heart and soul. You don't have to tell him you are feeling overwhelmed.

He can feel it, he can see it. He notices everything about you. He clocks the crinkle of concern between your eyebrows, the way your hands shake ever so slightly as you read through and sign the most tedious and boring paperwork, the way you twist and turn the custom wedding ring on your finger, the way you shake your right leg as it rests across your other leg and how you pause it when you finally become aware you are doing it, only to start again. You are teeming with anxiety, and he will do everything in his power to get you to relax. He can't have his beautiful wife worried like this, oh no, not at all. You are too good, too pure, too precious to him to ever allow such a thing.

After deciding he has seen enough of his pretty girl worrying, he swoops you up, out of your chair and into his arms, right where you belong, carrying you just like he did on your wedding night, his stunning bride. He ignores your protests with a firm shake of his head, and kissing the side of your head with a small hum, tightening his grip on your squirming thighs and right at the edge of your breast, carrying you out of your office and into your shared bath. Halfway to the bathroom, you gave up your fussing and settled into his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your head into his warm chest. He sets you down gently onto the counter, and traces his hands up your sides and settling onto your jaw, softly kissing every part of your face he can reach, focusing his attention on your rounded cheeks, pouted lips, fluttering eyes and your temple instead of answering your questions on what you are doing in your bathroom when you each have mountains of paperwork lining your desks that need to be completed before the winter solstice next week. "Darling, I don't mean to hush you, but hush. You, my mesmerizing mate, are too stressed out for your own good. I don't want you to worry about a single thing, and I will take care of it."

You immediately go into full denial mode, rambling with a quivering lip, "I can handle it Rhys, I am High Lady, and this is my duty, and I know what I am doing." Your husbands violet eyes twinkle as they normally do when they are focused in on you, and he listens on as you bubble out excuses and far fetched tales describing how you "really aren't stressed" and have "no idea what he is talking about," all the while rubbing at your tense shoulders and kissing the side of your mouth until he finally hushes you again. "S'alright baby, I know. I know you can handle it and that you know what you are doing. But if I am being honest, sometimes I get overwhelmed. And I just need you, I need you to be close to me. So will you please take this bath with me doll? I will even feed you chocolate covered strawberries and give you a massage with that lavander oil you love so much after."

The pecks to the side of your mouth were enough to convince you to stay with your mate, and follow through on his plans for a relaxing evening, but you didn't need to tell him that. The chocolate covered strawberries and full body massage are just an added bonus. The quirk of your lips is enough for your mate to vanish both your clothes and place you into the warm bath in front of him, holding your back close to his chest. He washes your hair, even letting the conditioner sit in while he presses his fingers into the tight knots in between your shoulder blades. After washing each other off, you both find yourselves snuggling in your bed designed for his large illyrian wings. You lay your head against his corded chest, giving into the deep sleep that calls you as he holds you pressed up against him.

Thank you so much for reading! Please like, comment, and reblog! It mean's the world to me.

Here is more of my work: Masterlist

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snailsgoingdowntown · 1 day ago

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Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Chapter 9

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: thoughts about self-harm (biting thumb again), accidental self-injury(? + biting inside of lip which causes it to bleed), thoughts about implied murder, near panic attack, implied depression, slight blood, small/slight themes of obsession and possessiveness, slight themes of misogyny/some toxic behavior from Reader's family, please tell me if I missed any.

Nsfw warnings: OKAY, I honestly think Maria, if she becomes fond of a daughter-in-law, would absolutely push for grandchildren and take things into her own hands unless someone (Sierra) tries really hard to convince her otherwise. I’m really sorry for writing her as a creep but this will be the last time (either completely or for a very long time) I’ll write her like this. Anyway: suggestive, throwback to their 1st night, gifting of lingerie and aphrodisiac by Maria (again will not write her like this either completely or a long time, I tried rewriting this chapter so fucking much but this is what I settled on because it felt the most natural to me.) pushing for grandchildren, Maria somehow got the Reader’s measurements, please tell me if I missed any.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS/TOXIC ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT OR REBLOG ANYTHING FANDOM RELATED (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI.

===

‘Dear father and mother,

I am doing well so far. The food is nice and the clothes comfortable. I haven’t personally spoken to my father-in-law yet, but I’m going to meet him for dinner tomorrow at the time of writing this. My husband, Dion is different from what I expected. Too nice. He’s not as brutal as others described him. It was surprising. But he’s a pervert and I almost hit him out of frustration and rejected his sexual advances like any sane person would. I know that you’ll say I should have let it happen, mother, but it hurt so bad I don’t think he’ll ever fit. Speaking of those vulgar activities, you lied he wasn’t flustered in the slightest until I started crying. Can you believe that? He’s a creep! But hopefully he doesn’t kill or torture me he’ll continue to treat me nicely.

I have talked to a few in-laws, including my mother-in-law. I heard that you drank with her, mother. She's very lively and has a sadistic unique personality. She’s very sweet to me. I have also met the fourth wife, Sierra. She’s lovely, I think you’ll also get along with her, mother.

Of course, as his wife I’ll do my best to support him in fear of him or Lant killing me otherwise in every field to the best of my abilities. Just how you forced taught me.

I hope that the two of you are faring well. The same goes for Zac and Elena, of course. Speaking of them, how has Zac’s studies been? He’s not skipping them again, is he or planning something dangerous like that stupid but well-meant plan he informed you, father, about? Yes, I overheard everything?

Is Elena doing well in her pregnancy? I know she moved out before me, but I’m still concerned about her and the baby. And Albert, he’s taking care of her, right?

I’m not sure what else to write, so I’ll just leave it here. Please take care of yourselves. The same goes for my brother and sister.

Your daughter, (Name)’

“... I ended up writing what I really think… I need to rewrite this… again.” You sigh, leaning back in your chair as you crumble the letter. This was your fifth try, and while each one became less hostile and more casual, you weren't satisfied with any of the rough drafts to turn into a final draft.

If you weren’t married to Dion, into this family, would writing to them be easier? You shake your head. No point in having these useless thoughts. Especially as Hana comes in with a knock and your permission, rolling in your lunch.

In the end, you ended up going with Hana’s suggestion - basically saying that your husband fucked you too hard and rough last night and you needed to recover. Thanks to that, you didn’t have to change into the scarlet dress she picked out either - it was decided to be saved for the dinner you’ll have with both your husband and father-in-law tomorrow.

You already asked Hana for indigestion medicine for tomorrow.

“Thank you, Hana,” you put your stationary away and picked up the crumbled balls of paper that were failed attempts. She eyes you curiously but doesn’t comment on it. Instead she readies your lunch, placing the plates onto the table.

The thought of eating makes you sick. You could barely hold down breakfast - could you hold down lunch? Or would your body give up immediately and reject the food?

Warily looking at it, you notice two prettily wrapped up boxes - one pink with light red polka dots, the bow purple in color. The second box, a flatter one, had red wrapping paper with a tiny black hearts pattern, with the bow also black. Your heart speeds up as your gut twists painfully. If they were meant for you, they contain nothing well meant nor innocent.

“Oh, right,” Hana starts before handing both ‘presents’ to your unwelcoming arms, “Lady Maria sent these to you. I don’t know what they are, unfortunately.” With a grave look on your face you shakily thank her, a pained and forced smile stretching your lips.

Maria sent these… oh boy, I sure do wonder what they are…

“Later today, please help me pick out a gift for her. It’s only right that I repay the favor, especially since she’s my mother-in-law.” Placing them down next to your feet, you ignore the urge to kick them far, far away from you. It’s hard to keep your eyes off of the boxes. It’s hard to focus on your food, picking up your fork and knife as you cut into the grilled fish.

It’s hard to chew, accidentally biting your lip hard enough to taste blood. It’s hard to drink the water as it threatens to choke you. It’s hard to not wince at the sharp sounds of cutlery against the plate as you imagine your head being chopped off like nothing.

It’s hard to breathe.

How much longer until you go crazy?

By the time you finish your meal, you’re sweating buckets. You hate it here. You want to go home -

“My Lady, are you alright?” Hana’s voice drags you out from your thoughts, flicking your eyes to meet hers. She’s picking up the silverware and placing it back onto the tray, but quickly takes a clean napkin from it and hands it to you. You take it with shaky hands, doing your best not to drop it. Thankfully your brain didn’t lag for too long for you to realize it was for your sweat.

You pat down your temples with the white cloth.

“T-thank you… v-very much, Ha-Hana.” Why is your voice so shaky? Why are you stuttering? Hell, why are you sweating?

You already had one panic attack - you don’t need another one. Your right thumb throbs at the memory and your teeth want to clamp down on it. The bandages suddenly feel too tight around the digit and you want to rip it off so you could dig your teeth into it. You bite your lip, only worsening the newly formed wound. The taste of your own blood spreads throughout your mouth again.

You need to stop.

Your attention switches to Hana, the woman staring at you uncertainly. It wasn’t necessarily out of concern but rather confusion - just how was she supposed to comfort her master? …you’re probably putting her in a rough spot.

…right. I just need to accept my new reality… but today is not going to be that day.

Taking in a deep breath, you force your nerves to settle down - positive thoughts, positive thoughts. The sun is warm, the birds are lively, the bed is comfortable, your husband is gone -

This isn’t the first time, and clearly it won’t be the last.

“...thank you for bringing the food, Hana.” You’re not fully composed, not fully right of mind, but as the saying goes: fake it until you make it. You did it once, you managed to do it throughout the duration of the engagement, during the wedding despite feeling horrible, you did it while consummating your marriage despite being ripped open by Dion, you did it while at the tea party with Maria and Sierra, you did it last night when you told him off.

You did it back then, too.

Force yourself to smile now. Tilt your head innocently. Act happy. Act happy.

“I enjoyed it. Please give my thanks to the chief.” Your smile isn’t bright as the sun and slightly wavers. Your eyes aren’t shining brightly like stars, instead seeing past her. Your mind isn’t calm as you recall the brutality of this family that was shown and described in the story.

Fake it until you make it.

Yes, you think. Maybe you will have a conversation with Roxana.

- - -

Hana left an hour ago yet you haven’t moved from your spot. No, instead you’re staring intensely at the presents in front of you on the table. They’re pretty, a bit childish. But knowing Maria…

“...is it a trap…?” Carefully, you pick up the stereo typical present box and lightly shake it; it rattles. “Sounds a bit heavy… like a box within a box.” Curiosity gets the better of you and you gingerly untie the purple bow before ripping the wrapping paper. Despite the damn thing nearly sending you into another panic episode, it was satisfying to unwrap.

A slightly smaller box is what you see once you manage to open the outer one. It was black and had a fancy red bow. Still a good size not to be something small. Unless it was a perfume. Breathing in deeply, you undo the ribbon and take off the lid.

You’re met with a glass container roughly the size of your hand. Your heart drops at the yellow liquid inside.

It looks exactly like the aphrodisiac your mother-in-law gave Roxana in the manhwa.

“...what in the actual fuck… she’s basically telling, no, begging me to fuck her son… haha!” Your head rolls back as laughter overtakes you and shoulders violently shake. “I knew she was crazy, but fuck, how morally corrupt is this woman?”

Instead of throwing it across the room like you should, you place it down on the table. You would have slammed it down if there wasn’t a chance that just smelling it could cause your body to heat up and become needy for a thing - a person - you don’t even want.

“I’m scared to open up the other ‘present’...” in spite of that you pull at the black bow and unwrap it. You shake it - sounds like something soft. Like clothes.

Oh.

Oh no, no, no, no, no no -

“She didn’t. No fucking way… maybe it’s a sweater. Or a shawl. Gloves?”

Trembling fingers take the lid off, a pink ribbon undone easily. This time, you throw the box to the floor after seeing what it held.

A sheer black babydoll lingerie set.

“Maria Agriche… you fucking creep…,” without another thought you shut the lid on it and shoved it into one of your drawers on your side of the dresser. Away from sight, out of mind you chant in your head, slamming the drawer shut. Your cheeks feel warm as both embarrassment and disgust fill your head and chest.

… even if you wanted to sleep with him… or if you were in a healthy marriage with someone you love…

“...I could never wear that… it’s too revealing, too embarrassing.” Even in your old world you never wore such things. Not because you viewed them as dirty or slutty, but because they don’t suit you. Besides, putting in so much effort just for it to be taken off…?

‘I’m only going to ask once - would you rather keep your clothes on or off?’

“MMMMFFFF!!” throwing yourself onto the bed at the memory, scream muffled by the pillow, you mentally curse both son and mother. The son because he made your first time so horrible you’re mentally scarred and the mother because she’s a creep. More so than her own fucking son.

A few minutes later you manage to collect yourself somewhat. Dreadfully you go to the dresser to pull out the offending clothing. You don’t plan on putting it on or to hold it over your clothes to get a vague idea of it either. Just to get a better look at it.

Opening it and picking up the article of clothing, you examine it; pretty lace details on the him and breast cups, a flower pattern. It was soft as silk - clearly made from expensive materials. The straps were thin but they didn't feel too rough or stiff. Probably comfortable on the shoulders.

Not like you would know - you never tried anything like this on.

Curiosity killing the cat, you decide to see where it ends by holding it over your clothes; it barely brushes past mid thigh.

When you go to put it back you notice an envelope and panties in the box. First, you pick up the lacy underwear, frowning as you realize that somehow, someway Maria had gotten your fucking measurements. Did your mother also tell the crazed woman your three sizes… “No, she wouldn’t. Even if she was drunk, she wouldn’t tell anyone such private details.”

Carelessly dropping it into the box you grab the letter, opening it after a moment of hesitation. It takes even longer to unfold the letter. And even longer to actually read it, only for horror to come across your face and enter your heart.

‘Sierra told me it may come across as inappropriate to send such things to you… but I’m just so excited for grandchildren! Oh, but don’t feel pressured into wearing or drinking those things tonight. The aphrodisiac lasts a rather long time. Besides, considering it’s Dion, I thought you might need some help to get in the mood whenever you decide to lay with him.

- Maria’

“No. Never.”

Shoving everything back in, you shut the drawer close, making sure to hide the items underneath some layers of your… underwear…

You give up.

“Ahh, why and how did I stumbled into the scene…” You turn around only to notice the yellow liquid contained in the glass bottle. Right. You forgot about that. “Maybe I should just pour it out…”

Not once did you realize nor notice how all the fear and fright left your body and mind, instead leaving caution and annoyance in its wake.

- - -

Your husband returned at midnight, small amounts of blood splattered on his left cheek. When you look up from your book to greet him you notice that in the candlelight his eye bags seem darker. Deeper.

“...welcome…back.” Your body starts to quiver and your heart beats loud enough you could hear and feel it once you meet his eyes. Quickly scanning his person you notice he’s wearing the standard male servant uniform:

black shirt with red rimmed shoulder pads that have the Agriche crest on top, the shirt long enough to reach below his knees and splits at the hips, tied together with a brown belt at the waist. If he were to turn around you would see the family crest proudly engraved into the fabric. Blank pants that disappear into nearly knee-height boots with long, tied laces.

The last time you’ve seen him in that uniform was the first time you met him, bored expression plastered on his face as Lant introduced him with a smug smile on that disgusting face of his. All he did was shake your hand as you stood still with prayers to a God who held no love for you. With your father glancing your way every minute as you were left in some corner with your then fiance to hold a conversation that never happened. When he didn’t spare so much as a glance at you, instead staring off into space as you couldn’t take your eyes off your lap.

Wait.

No.

Maybe back then, you were too deep in your thoughts to notice that unnerving stare.

The same one he has now - looking at you as though you were his prey, scarlet eyes glowing in the candlelight, like you belonged to him and he would never change that fact. That he would never let you change it, either.

“Wife.”

The word mixed with his sleepy voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard - it makes your ears bleed and eye twitch as you hold back the grimace of how he addresses you. He only wants you because you’re a normal person.

The moment you become insane he’ll let you go.

That’s the only explanation. It has to be. That’s the only explanation your brain could come up with and accept.

You’re too scared to bring up the night before yesterday. Beads of sweat slowly roll down your temples and breathing shallow as Dion walks towards the bed, heavy boots echoing. Time stops as your heart drops once he reaches the bed, reaches you and without a single word, he grabs your right wrist and -

“What happened here?”

Oh. You forgot about your bandaged thumb.

#yandere x reader #dion agriche #dion agrece #dio agriche x reader #dion agrece x reader #yandere dion x reader #yandere dion agriche x reader #yandere dion agrece x reader #yandere dion agriche #yandere dion agrece #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtptflob #twtptflob x reader #yandere twtptflob #yandere the way to protect the female leads older brother #roxana #male yandere #yandere twtptflob x reader

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weeping-statue · 2 days ago

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Hi! This is abit more of a darker/triggering ask so if it makes you uncomfortable thats 100% ok and u can skip this! but i was wondering if you could write antonio (idv) comfort fic with a reader whos struggling with sh or trya recover from it Please! Have a good day/night! ♡

“The knife isn’t always the best option.”

Contains; Self harm; bullying, comfort, sensitive topics; Antonio; Naib; Norton; Alva; and Victor;

Alva's can be platonic or romantic.

Key; Anima mia=my soul

You were doing so well, but bottled up emotions shatter easily during stressful times. When your loving boyfriend realizes you’ve started again, he’s heartbroken yet nonetheless supportive.

Antonio

He would refuse to leave your side after it comes to light that you’re hurting yourself again.

He loves you a lot and losing you is out of the question.

Antonio knows exactly what to do in these situations, since I feel like he’s either gone through this before on his own or with someone else.

Antonio had you in his arms while sobbed on the floor. A discarded knife tinged red and a clear reminder of your failures.

“It’s alright, Anima mia. You’re not alone, and you’re not in trouble. I’ve got you, everything will be okay. This will pass.” He reassured you, making small circles on your back, and gently kissing your head.

His words only made you cry harder, you wanted to stop feeling guilty. You just wanted to stop letting him find you this way.

Maybe if weren’t such a disappointment you’d be able to do the simplest thing.

Antonio knew what was probably going through your head at that moment and smiled, “Do you know how proud I am of you? My love, you never fail to impress me. I look up to you in some aspects, and you give me a reason to wake up in the morning. It’s a feat very few can achieve. Let me take care of you for tonight at the very least, I’ll grab us dinner and run us a bath. How does that sound?”

You nodded and turned your head away from the blade that just seemed to taunt you. Instead opting for staring at his shirt in shame.

Naib

He keeps a close eye on you 24/7

You’re always being monitored, even if it’s extremely subtle or obvious.

You’re the main reason why he wakes up in the morning.

Naib refuses to lose you.

“Put.. Put the knife down,___” naib carefully inched towards you like you were a wounded animal. He didn’t want to startle you and make the situation worse.

The knife shook in your unsteady hands, as you fought to make a decision, but ultimately dropped it anyways. Letting it clatter to the floor.

He quickly rushed to your side after it dropped, checking for any injuries. When he didn’t find any, Naib brushed some hair out of your face, resting his forehead against yours. “You can’t keep scaring me like this. What happens if you do go through with it? You’d really leave me all alone?”

“I don’t know.” You mumbled, at least you were being honest.

Norton

He already worry’s about you, probably more than he should, so this is just adding on.

He makes sure you share a room after the first time he witnesses one of your breakdowns.

It’s not that he believes you can’t take care of yourself, he just doesn’t want you to burn yourself out.

At night he’ll always wait for you to sleep first, and he watches you fondly or sadly, depending what occurred that day.

Norton and you had a rough day. It started with shitty matches, then rude teammates, and then a small argument between yourselves.

The reminder of it made him sigh. Finally after confirming you fell asleep he’d shift to spoon you. Taking his hand to gently run up and down your arms, being mindful of the scars that he learned to love.

“If only you knew how much I need you in my life, ___. I’m not good with words, but fuck, I love you so much.” He whispered to you, placing a kiss on the back of your head.

Alva

He’s more in tune with your emotions than yourself.

He understands that things can get hard, and doesn’t let it define you.

He wants to see you flourish, he is a mentor after all.

Alva will stay up with you until you fall asleep in case you’re afraid you might do something you’ll regret.

He also doesn’t mind cleaning your wounds, of course it makes him sad, devastated really, but it’s you, and he’d do anything for you.

Romantic;

Alva kisses away your tears, as he reassures you, your loved.

He makes sure that you bathed, and washes your hair for you.

He’ll hold you at night as well, letting you hide in his chest.

“It’s alright my dear, I’ve cleaned up all the blood, you can look now.” Alva says, and you finally open your teary eyes. Seeing him bandage up the last bit of your legs.

“Next time you feel this urge, or even feel upset, come find me. My door is always open to you.” It comes out firm but gentle, like he genuinely cares. Something no one has showed in this awful place a lot.

Your about to open your mouth but he shuts it down, knowing what your about to say, “No, you are not a bother, No I don’t care how late it is, and yes I do care about you. I love you, and it pains me to see you like this.”

“Alva, I can’t do this to you what happens if-”

“Then we’ll figure it out together. You and me.”

Victor

He cried the first time you came too his door bleeding.

Wick was right there next to you both nudging at your leg as he bandaged your stomach.

He couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he could lose you either from the games or by your own hands.

It pained him deeply when he find used razor blades in your trashcan or a hidden knife under your bed.

He wrote you a letter a couple times begging you to talk to him.

Pouring his heart out to you that he needs you and loves you deeply.

On occasion Victor would knock on your door late at night wondering if he could sleep with you when his paranoia got too much.

A knock; then two more.

It was around 11pm and Victor had shown up again holding his pillow in one arm and wick in the other.

“Couldn’t sleep again?” You said lowly, since other people lived on your floor too.

He nodded and walked inside, setting wick down on the end of the bed.

“Do.. you mind if you hold me? I miss you, and I’m scared.” It was barely audible but you heard it. He could talk, sometimes, only when he felt it was necessary. So it wasn’t too much of a surprise when he said this.

“Yeah, come on.” You ushered him to get into bed. Slipping in next to him and letting his head rest on your chest.

You felt his shaky and nervous fingers trace patterns over your scars. Delicately memorizing each and every one.

You didn’t mind, because you trusted him.

But deep down, it hurt you inside that you were causing him this pain. This worry.

I finally did it! I posted.

I’m hoping to post more soon

#idv x reader #naib x reader #naib subedar x reader #antonio paganini x reader #victor grantz x reader #norton campbell x reader #idv x you #norton campbell #idv naib #alva lorenz x reader #alva lorenz

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naamahdarling · 2 days ago

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This makes me livid.

I'm not going to assume this family wasn't knowledgeable or doing their utmost. I'm assuming they were doing everything they could.

But I need you to know.

This is not how it has to be, and there are things you can do to prevent this. Please do them so that you aren't stuck hoping to die or hoping your loved one will die.

If you or a loved one has a lot of medical debt or you know they will incur it, check laws in your state. Know your rights. We should not have to do this, but WE DO.

A person's will and how it is laid out has an effect on how and in what order debts are deducted from the estate, which can sometimes affect how much money beneficiaries get. If you have beneficiaries, get your wills in order! Get things set up to benefit debtors as little as possible. There are things that might be able to be done. If someone involved is disabled, find an estate lawyer experienced in their specific form of disability benefits (company, government/SSI/SSDI, etc.).

Spouses are NOT necessarily responsible for their partner's medical debt. The estate of the deceased IS, but individual debt collectors from clinics or care facilities are severely limited in what they are allowed to collect on from the actual survivors. DO NOT TRUST THEM IF THEY SAY THEY CAN. There are laws about them not being allowed to lie to you but they will still try. My ex worked in the industry for YEARS and was extremely aware of the predatory shit shady companies or even just shitty individual agents would pull. Never trust a debt collector. Ever. Know your rights, understand debt collection, record all calls.

In some cases, especially involving state funding of end of life care, and situations involving disabled folks (deceased or beneficiaries), the state may not legally be able to evict a survivor to collect that debt from the liquidated estate (i.e. selling the house after kicking you out).

Children are almost NEVER liable for ANY FORM OF parental debt.

Never ever ever pay a single penny on a debt you did not cosign or take on yourself. Do not even verbally acknowledge the debt on the phone. Claim to be unaware of it and state that it is not yours until they show proof. In general, unless it's trivial, and you do intend to pay right away or make arrangements right away, don't acknowledge even debts that are yours, not even verbally, until they have proven to you that you owe them, and force collectors to communicate leaving a paper trail and send you documentation of everything. Record calls using Talker ACR and Talker ACR Helper. If they say you have 90 days to dispute, wait 89 days and then dispute it, even if it is accurate and you know it. If the collector isn't the original place that owned the debt, insist the collection company show proof they own the debt. Contact the original place and see if you can still settle the debt there for less. Delay, deny, defend yourself. Draw things out as long as you can by their rules and seek legal advice. Fight. ACT LIKE THEY DO. BE A HORRIBLE PIECE OF OBSTRUCTIVE NITPICKING SHIT.

If you marry, get a pre-nup that lays out your debt arrangements, do it in a way that keeps your finances and debt as separate as possible. Pre-nups are not just for people who don't trust each other. They are a powerful tool to protect yourselves from predatory practices outside the marriage as well.

YOU CAN PROTECT YOURSELF AND YOUR LOVED ONES. YOU CAN PROTECT YOUR ASSETS. DO NOT LET THIS HORRIBLE SHIT HAPPEN UNOPPOSED, AND NEVER ASSUME THAT THE SYSTEM IS TOTALLY UNSTOPPABLE.

YOU PROBABLY CAN'T KEEP EVERYTHING BUT THEY DEFINITELY CAN'T TAKE EVERYTHING EITHER.

FUCKING FIGHT.

#also learn about your rights pertaining to funeral stuff #and never let them bilk you or upsell you #the words you want are 'direct cremation'#and if your parent or partner makes arrangements for funeral shit in their will that shit is paid for by the estate and not you #hammer this shit out in advance guys #so you can die or help your loved ones die in slightly more fucking peace #like no im not a lawyer and a lot depends on state and circumstance but you definitely have so many options they won't tell you about

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braisedhoney · 1 year ago

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well wishes from the void

#utdr #utdr fanart #deltarune #deltarune fanart #wd gaster #gaster fanart #utdr soul #utdr player #this is… actually not from my backlog #this is something i was able to finish over a couple days (terrible burnout hhh ;;) and wanted to get up before december ended #i know I’ve been less interactive/active—sorry about that. i haven’t been spending a lot of time online.#but while i can’t promise anything atm i do hope you have a lovely winter.#well wishes from the void o7 #might be my last post for the year unless i queue the caine and pomni comic #so please take care of yourselves <3

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not-gray-politics · 1 year ago

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Trans women. I'm grabbing you by the shoulders and yelling. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE SKINNY TO BE FEMININE AND PRETTY AND CUTE. PLEASE STOP MAKING DIETS PART OF YOUR TRANSITION GOALS. WEIGHT LOSS IS A SCAM. I LOVE YOU. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES. YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL.

#I see so many transfems say they want to have “flat stomachs” or do diet and exercise regimes to try and get an “hourglass figure”#and it really worries me. girls you do not have to destroy yourselves to fit into unachievable beauty standards #the vast majority of cis women don't even fit those standards #and the same goes for you transmascs! I see you! I see you trying to get smaller chests and hurting yourselves with weight loss routines #and excessive workouts. it's not worth it. weight loss has OVER a 90% long-term failure rate and there's a reason for that #I assure you whatever diet you think you've found that “works for you” won't be working so well 5 years from now #and you're going to blame yourself for “slacking off”. but it's not you. it was never you. it was designed to fail.#these standards are made to hurt people and then sell them a false solution at the price of your health #I encourage you to transition if you'd like and live your best life I really do. but please please please do so SAFELY.#if weight loss is part of your transition goals please reevaluate WHY you believe thinness is necessary for achieving femininity #(or masculinity or androgyny but this stuff particularly affects women in the way it's marketed)#do research on fatphobia and the roots of weight loss culture. Learn where these ideas come from and why they're so prevalent.#It's extremely important #take care. stay safe. love you very much #trans #fat liberation #transgender #lgbt #trans rights #fat positivity #diet culture #fatphobia #transfem #trans positivity #transgirl #trans women #trans woman

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ruinme-please · 7 months ago

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The Teeth of God tour is over

Please have a good rest boys, girls and crew, you absolutely deserve it

Thank you so much, you are all so loved

#i’m all emotional #i’m gonna miss them like crazy #please boys take care of yourselves and rest well #vessel #ii #iii #iv #sleep token

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arisdaughter · 2 days ago

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She nodded. "Well, I have more patients to tend to.. See you two later! Take care of yourselves, please!" She told them, waving as she hurried off to help another camper.

Open starter: Flu season

It was Christmas. Yay! That meant that everyone would be playing in the snow, enjoying some Christmas foods, etcetera. Right? Wrong. Because with Christmas came cold season.

Which was why Serene was currently all over the infirmary, tending to the many, many campers' illnesses and injuries from their wintery activities, not even noticing when you walked in.

taglist★*⁠.⁠✧ @inara-tries-to-survive @daonedaonlyskh @mireyaaaaaaaaa @your-gay-emo-cousin

@demigod-jack-hearth @gaygirldoodles @wivesandwallets @this-lovely-universe [feel free to ask to be added/removed, i don't bite, contrary to belief :D]

#willows pjo ocs ♡#serene rambles #꧁✬◦°⋆⋆°◦ molly remembers ◦°⋆⋆°◦✬꧂

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awakenthebeing · 4 months ago

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MIX OF STUFF i am feeling brave tonight and want to place down some goodies i don't think i've shared here <:3!!! Mainly Peaches au critters and stuffs tho both new and sort of olde but ALSO bonus Glory (mm oc on 6th images with purple and yellow colors)

#Peaches au #i hope youve all been well and safe! ive been alright myself and mostly active on insta stories!#sending lots of love to all of you here... please please be sure to take good care of yourselves!#💓💓💓💓🦩🫂#megaman au creachers #THAT is the tag!!! ^^

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0kayblue · 2 years ago

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Blood Trail

Your most recent mission was to rescue the President's daughter, it was supposed to be a simple rescue mission in and out. Things go from bad to worse quickly once you seek shelter in a barn.

[PART II]

Main Character Relations: Leon Kennedy x Reader

Word Count: 5k (a little over)

Angst, mentions of violence, knives, hand to hand combat, guns, needles, pills, blood, and previous NSFW affairs

A/N: HELLO ALL!! If you can’t tell by the terrible summary this is set in the re4 setting. I’m biased. I’ll probably be going on a break after this, but enjoy!!! I send my love and hope you are all doing alright.

Search and rescue, that was the name of the game and you were damn good at it. Even if you were flipped around and upside down, you knew how to find things. It was a skill that most in your field wished they had and spent hours trying to learn. Committing to memory how to identify what tracks belong to either what animal or vehicle. Trying to teach themselves what to look for and when to look for it.

You shined when it came to tracking people. You could quite possibly find yourself over the moon when you spotted boot prints. You could tell a lot about someone based on their footprints. How someone moves is a very telling thing; how far apart each footprint is, the density of each step conveying the urgency in their stride. They told stories and it was up to the observer to translate them in the best way they knew how.

It took an understanding of people and a bit of a sixth sense. It’s where rookies and professionals alike messed up, but not you. You weren’t always one hundred percent correct, but you always ended up in the right direction. It gained you respect, rank, and a reputation.

So, as you sat in the back of a police cruiser studying the way the two police officers interacted with one another you put together a mental file on each of them. They seemed quite laid back and easy going individuals that didn’t take much of anything seriously. Joking and laughing- you had no clue what about- like they weren’t on clock. It was a nice change and caused you to smile lightly; it was nice to bask in a partnership that wasn’t so grounded in solemeness.

You glanced at Leon who rested against the window, staring rather dramatically out of it lost in thought. You rolled your eyes before nudging him gently, “Hey, pretty boy.” You mumbled audibly enough to not draw attention from the officers in front.

Leon scoffed at the nickname that you gave him the moment you met him months ago. He had a love-hate relationship with it because he knew it was supposed to knock him down a peg; but it fell from your lips in such a flirtatious way that it sparked a warmth in his stomach. Adjusting subtlety, his eyes locked with yours, “What, Princess?”

Of course he didn’t let ‘pretty boy’ slide and upon seeing how the staff treated you like royalty- and how you had a number of them eating out of your hand- he bestowed you the title of ‘Princess’. There really wasn’t a thing you could do about it and you were more than willing to accept your karma if it hadn’t bit you so hard in the ass in the bedroom. The way it made you squirm under him only stroked his ego.

It was only predictably natural for two flirtatious agents to find themselves tangled up in the sack once or twice. Although in the particular case of you two it was becoming a more common thing. The palpable energy between the two of you could start a fire. It was fun and loose with no serious title, the way close relationships between agents were recommended to be.

“You think we could switch roles with these two? I’ll be the funny one.”

“You can’t be the funny one, I’m the funny one.” His tone dry with a little smirk to match.

“Damn, really? You could have fooled me.” Little giggles creeping from your throat as you said it, causing him to chuckle.

“Why am I always the one who draws the short end of the stick?” One of the officers cuts through the moment with laughter, speaking in English for one of the first times since picking both you and Leon up.

Your eyes left the ocean of blue as your attention turned back to the officers in front of you, fully focused now that they were ready to talk. His eyes stayed on you though, a flower that he’s been neglecting sunlight continuing to bloom.

———————————————————

This was not how this was supposed to go, it was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be an in and out type of job; find the target, save the target, and get the hell out of dodge.

Breathing in as much air as your body allowed your hands found your knees and trailed down your legs, trying to keep them from shaking. You stood turning to Ashley as you did so, “Are you okay?” You asked concerned, approaching her cautiously as a hand found her shoulder. Your hand pressed against her shoulder with a light firmness as you rubbed her shoulder and then her shoulder blade.

Ashley Graham, the President’s daughter, the target; a sweet young woman whose adult life was starting off more than just rough and bumpy despite the cushy life she has had.

Her typically chipper and welcoming persona was gone and all that remained was a scared little girl who just wanted to go home.

Ashley shook slightly as she tried to catch her breath, wanting to lie, but she couldn’t as she shook her head. You just nodded and continued to rub in between her shoulders and give her time.

She’s been here longer than you have, she’s seen more than you have; and you only hoped that it hadn’t ruined her outlook on life forever.

“Take a minute. We should be safe where we are, for now at least.” Leon said as he boarded up a makeshift door in the average sized barn you tried to take cover in.

“You wanna take a seat, dear?” You asked her as you guided her to a sturdy enough looking chair that sat tucked under an even less sturdy looking table. You smoothly guided her to the seat as your hand left her shoulder, “Is there anything I can do to make this easier?” Your eyes locked with hers to convey your genuine concern for her well being.

Ashley was a victim. She was someone who didn’t deserve this and it wasn’t fair, but unfortunately it was the cards she had been dealt. Regardless of the paycheck you cared for every victim that you tried to save and Ashley was no different. Trying to make her as comfortable as possible was your primary goal.

As you reached for the aid kit that was firmly strapped to your thigh, you could hear a drained sigh escaping Leon’s lips over the crisp sound of velcro separating. He was your next concern, but you had to focus. Opening the neatly organized pack that had an assortment of different first aid items like ointment, pills, and bandages on one side and on the other side had syringes filled with morphine and sedatives.

Ashley’s face turned up at the needles, but you just smiled, “Those aren’t for you, unless you are under some severe pain. You aren’t, are you?” You asked, your tone smooth and gentle.

“No.” She shook her head, “I just have a headache.”

You pulled out the little bottle labeled tylenol and got her two of the little red tablets, “Can you take pills without water? What about scratches and cuts, anything we need to bandage up?”

“I don’t like to, but I can.” She affirmed as you handed her the pills, you sent her a warm smile.

“I don’t either.” You admitted, watching her struggle to take the pills. “That should help, if you need more don’t hesitate to ask, okay?”

She nodded and you put a hand back on her shoulder, “Take a breather, collect yourself, we will step forward when you feel strong enough to continue.” Ashley sniffed, trying to hold back a flood gate of tears you crouched down to force her eyes to connect with yours, “I know this is hard, but I need you to know that you are going to be okay. Leon and I are going to get you out of here, okay? I promise.” Ashley shut her eyes tight as she took in a deep shaky breath.

She felt guilty at the feet of your unconditional kindness. She felt as if she had doomed you for failure. How could you promise a happy ending without even knowing half of the story? Something was inside her, something beyond her control; a plague coursed through her body that could turn her into something that sent ice through her veins. Made her so unsure of who she ever was.

“Ashley.” You called for her, causing her to open her eyes. “It’s okay to cry.” She turned away and slowly she started to feel it; she started to cry. “Can I hug you?”

“No!” She choked out as she flinched away, “N-no…can I have a moment? Please?” She begged as your brows furrowed together in concern.

It wasn’t unusual for victims to want to be left alone to cry; to hide. But this felt different. Ashley wasn’t one to hide away from people, she was one to ask for help. To seek comfort in those she trusted. Either she didn’t trust you or something bigger was at play. She trusted you; that much you knew or she wouldn’t have taken the pills from you. She may be a little on the naive side, but she most certainly wasn’t stupid.

You nodded even though your stomach turned, “Okay, I’m going to go check on Leon. I’ll be right over there and-.”

“I know! Okay, I know.” Ashley snapped at you, causing you to raise an eyebrow. This put you on guard, but you turned your back and went to Leon. Something was wrong and you were counting on your counterpart to fill you in on the details.

Approaching Leon you studied his features and how he carried himself. It was off and it was odd, usually Leon was well kept regardless of the hell he was going through; but he seemed disheveled. His posture was slacked, but still stressed and he was pale. The bags under his eyes visible from a mile away and a dark shade of purple accompanied them. You leaned against the wall next to him and you could barely pick up on a trace of him regardless of the fact that you were standing right next to him.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked with a playful smirk, being who you always were with him. You’re own way of telling him it was okay.

“I lost you.” His voice came out like gravel, low and gruff. You barely heard the sentiment, but it was there. If you weren’t working you would’ve pondered on it, even blushed, but you were on the clock. You had learned your lesson the hard way about relationships on the clock.

“I found you, though.” You tried to send the same amount of sentiment back regardless of the cool composure you maintained, “It’s what I do. I told you, I’d be okay and I was.”

He wasn’t pleased with your answer. Leon knew you could hold your own, he knew that you would find him; but that still didn’t settle his stomach. This time had to be different.

“Look how far you got without me, though. You got Ashley and we met up, so I’d say we are back on the right track. Although,” you paused and lowered your voice, “Something is off.” Your gaze found Ashley.

“That gut of yours.” He remarks with a smile. A sight to behold that causes you to relax slightly. “Whatever the hell is going on here goes deeper than we think.” He swallows harshly as he tries to fight a cough from escaping from his chest. A thick substance that he carelessly writes off as mucus lodges itself in his throat.

“So it appears. I’m worried about Ashley. I don’t know the girl personally, but from what I’ve seen and read, the girl I’m helping isn’t the girl I studied.”

“Saddler-.”

“Who?” You cut him off, the name rings a bell as some of the people you killed out of defense mumbled it as they fell to become one with the earth below them.

“Creepy guy, he’s got portraits everywhere.” You nodded and he continued, “Ran into him when I got Ashley out of the church. He said he injected her with a gift. The same gift those brain dead puppets have out there.” He explained, conveniently leaving out the part that he was also given the same gift. That the same plague was bestowed upon him and that slowly he was turning into the things you killed with sympathy.

He didn’t want you losing focus.

“Interesting, that changes the game.” You started second guessing your choice in giving Ashley the Tylenol. “A cure?”

“Not that I know of. I crossed paths with an ex-cop turned lab technician, or whatever, if anyone knows it’s probably him.” Leon said, trying to choke back another cough.

“Did this mystery guy have a name?” You tread lightly with concern while Leon turned and coughed.

“Luis Sera.” He managed to get out through the violent coughs that shook through his chest. Your hand found his back and you hit him lightly, encouraging him to cough up whatever was causing him trouble up. He could practically feel your questions with each gentle but firm hit.

“You okay?” He shook his head as he turned away, covering his mouth with the fingerless gloves. The leather scent of them makes it harder to get a gasp of fresh air.

Worry started to course through your bloodstream as you started to rub his back as soothingly as you could. “Leon-.” You were cut off as his coughing ceased just as quickly as it appeared.

As he stood upright and pulled his hand away noting the faint color of red before wiping his hand on his pants. Playing it off by reaching for his gun, hoping to all things holy you didn’t see.

You didn’t, your eyes stayed trained on his face. Looking for any sign that could slightly convince you it was just a fluke; maybe he was allergic to something in the barn that caused him to have a coughing fit.

Whatever it was, it was enough to send you into a course of action, “We’ve gotta find Sera.”

Leon just gave you a nod of approval while you turned to Ashley. He watched you tread lightly with a sense of urgency, that damn gut of yours. He closed his eyes tight as he began to feel dizzy. The walls of the barn started to close in while he just stood there trying to compose himself. Eyes still closed, his heart beat racing, his veins starting to show black under his skin. His head pounding, the room spinning, an unfriendly heat surging from his chest, to his feet, to his hands. His eyes opened, but he was unable to see a thing; blinded by a deep red that faded to black. The only thing he could make out was a threat.

“Ashley.” You called lightly trying to keep your concern below the surface, “I hate to break what you’re going through up, but we’ve got to move.” Ashley sniffed, before turning to you. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she looked better. Almost how you would expect her to look after crying if this had never happened to her, if an irreversible trauma hadn’t tainted her.

“Okay, it’s okay. I’m ready.” She said with convection as she stood to meet you. Her blood ran cold when she saw a gun pointed at you with intent to kill. “Stop! Leon!” She shouted in desperation, signaling for you to duck.

It was in the nick of time as you ducked, the sound of a bullet ringing through your ears; just barely missing the side of your head. You turned and stood upright quickly as you glared Leon down, “What the fuck was that-!” You damn near screamed at him before assessing the situation. You weren’t looking at the Leon you knew, you were looking at someone you had never seen before. “Ashley, hide.” You demanded, trying to keep your voice from wavering.

Leon went to shoot again, but in a twist of luck the gun harshly clicked. He was out of bullets and you needed to take advantage of the moment. Charging towards him you sent a harsh kick to his wrist while he reached for ammo with the other. The successful kick knocked the gun out of his hand, but he countered by grabbing your ankle. He yanked you by your leg closer to him, pulling you from the place you tried to plant yourself.

You managed to break out of his tight grasp by swinging a punch towards his jaw. You stood on both feet while he turned with a pained hiss. When his gaze met yours a guttural growl escaped through gritted teeth. His chest puffed out, his jaw clenched, and his eyes clouded over. He was ready to fight.

The sight struck the fear of God in you. It made you hesitate, it made you vulnerable; and he took advantage of it. He punched you damn near square in the face, holding nothing back. The force sent you stumbling backwards and seeing white. You kept yourself from falling by focusing on the white noise that rang through your ears. You couldn’t make that mistake again.

You coughed trying to get some air as you saw him go for another hit. You blocked it and made a swipe for his legs. Trying to buy yourself time so you could figure out a way to de-escalate the situation. You were no match for Leon as far as hand to hand combat was concerned. You fought from a distance, you shot from a distance; foresight was your way of survival.

As he fell to his knees you tried to put him into a chokehold, but the moment he found his footing you were off the ground. He flung you forcefully over his shoulders and onto solid ground. Your head pounded as you saw stars and swore that your skeleton was permanently imprinted into the ground. Your lungs struggled for air as he firmly pressed his forearm to your throat, straddling your hips.

You squirm underneath him, kicking and thrashing, desperately searching for a way out. He grabbed his knife from its sheath on his chest. Tears beaded on your lower lashes as you used every ounce of strength in your body to push his solid forearm from your throat.

His eye contact never faltered as he lifted his knife into the air; ready to take the final step and end this.

“No! Don’t hurt her!” Ashley shouted causing him to falter. His grip on you loosening enough for you to move your head up enough to clamp your teeth into his flesh while you harshly thrusted upward to allow you some space to get away from him. You quickly tried to scurry away from him, but his attention quickly returned to you. He reaches for your leg and barely misses. You slip through his fingertips and the only thought on your mind is distance. You need to see this situation from a different perspective, it was your only chance.

Quickly getting to your feet you finally reach for your gun. Despite the way your body shakes you hold the gun firmly, “Don’t make me do this, I don’t want to do this.” You plead, nearly falling to your knees, “Please.”

Leon just grunted as he stood upright, he was hesitant as he stared at you. You didn’t make a single movement thinking that he may have been blinded. Your voice reaches him, causing him to see glances of you between the vision of a monster. He was fighting a monster, he only saw a monster. It was trying to take Ashley, it was trying to take you. It was real, wasn’t it?

“Leon? Can you hear me? Can you see me?” You call out in a whimper you can’t hide. Lowering the gun you took a cautious step forward and then another seeing as he didn’t move. Ashley held her breath looking for anything to help her defend herself if this went south.

“H-He’s got the virus…h-he can’t see a thing…” Her voice low as she slowly began to talk with a stutter full of fear, “I-I know, because I-I have it too…”

You couldn’t help but to wince, this whole thing was sideways in the worst way. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You could feel your heartbeat in your head as you whispered, “I know, I know.”

Leon stumbled backwards in confusion as time and his senses meld together as he threw a punch at nothing.

He sees a large heavy set man, his head replaced with a red wet pulsating organ; long sharp appendages sprouting from his spine and wriggling with malintent. The man goes to attack, but Leon dodges slicing a appendage off with his knife in the process.

Watching him fight nothing made your heart break. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know how to help. He was suffering and all you could do was watch. It made you sick and you had to change that. You had to help him.

“You’ve had these outbursts? How long do they last?”

“They feel like hours…” She admitted, truthfully she had no idea. It was like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

“Okay,” you start trying not to lose your temper, “how do you get out of them?”

“I-I don’t know…I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay, you’re okay. We’ll figure this out.” Your brain moves a hundred miles a minute as you try to connect the dots. You examine the room looking for an exit, running seeming like the only option. The only out was blocked though and boarded up by Leon only minutes before.

Another way, there had to be another way.

Your eyes find the table and your pack on the table. A lightbulb went off as you moved towards it slowly; careful to not alert Leon and keep him in the battle he was currently fighting. Quietly and carefully you pulled out a syringe filled with Amobarbital, a sedative that would send him to the ground.

You tried not to shake as you started to explain your thought process to Ashley, “I’m going to corner and sedate him. If something goes wrong you need to hide until he comes to, okay? Careful though, don’t make any sudden movements, just stay as still as you can. If he leaves, do not follow.”

Ashley nodded, finding a disregarded dumpster. She slowly moved towards it and climbed into it.

Her movements were gentle enough to not cause too much of a ruckus as you approached Leon from behind. As she reached for the lid, her palms sweaty and her hands shaking, she tried to pull it down. Crouching in the dumpster she almost made it until she slipped, letting go of the lid. A loud bang caused Leon to stop what he was doing and turned in the direction of the dumpster. Quick and powerful strides being made in her direction were quickly stopped when you started talking. Your tone is firm and demands attention.

“Flesh and bone. That’s all you are, flesh and bone.”

Leon turned sharply in your direction, cloudy eyes with the intent to kill. He charged at you with his knife pointing directly at your face. You dodged and he stumbled, but was quick to recover.

“You remember that? That depressing conversation we had the night before we got here?” He went to throw a punch but you roughly kicked him in the chest sending him backwards.

“What about the time you were so scared that you hurt me in training and you spent the rest of the night searching for my pulse?” You grunted planting your feet and punched him. You were pissed because this man was not the man that you had grown lovingly accustomed to. The man you had started to fall for.

All Leon saw was a woman with a bloody knife who spewed memories from her throat. How could she have known that? There is no way she could have known that, but he fought regardless. With a broad stroke he knocked the side of her face with his own blade.

You wouldn’t have noticed he hit you, if it wasn’t for the sting of your own blood rolling down your cheek.

You successfully knocked the knife out of his hand as your other hand threw another punch to his jaw. You let out a small breath of shock before going to jab the syringe into his neck, but he caught your hand. He roughly pushed you backwards and against the wall. Your spine suffers as you let out a harsh wince of pain.

“Fuck, Leon!” You try not to wail as his hand lets go of your fist and goes for your throat. Your free hand finds his wrist as his grip tightens.

“How do you know that?” He barked the question with such intensity that it caused you to cower against him. “Where is she? What did you do?”

“L-Leon…” You dryly strangle out, “Me. Look at me…”

That woman’s voice turned to yours and slowly her features started to become yours. His grip around your throat loosening, starting to become unsure of what was reality.

“Please…” you begged as you started learning to breathe again, “I know- I know it’s hazy.” You regained your grip on the syringe while the hand still attached to his wrist pushed forward. Your fingers find his index and middle finger and you pull them to your pulse, pressing firmly down so he could find it. So he could feel the pleading beats, identify the blood that coursed through your veins.

You were pure and untampered and he started to see clearly. Glassy doe eyes peering into his eyes while his calloused fingertips felt the smoothness of your flesh. Your breath hitching in your throat as you saw particles of him returning.

“(Y-Y/N)?” He stutters out, like a whimper still unsure, but questioning. You nodded and for a moment you thought you saw a light at the end of the tunnel. You were ready to fall to your knees and beg for forgiveness.

But you always paid the price. The sound of wood breaking as a body slammed through the boarded up doorway. A tall, dark, greasy man stumbling through trying to catch his breath caused Leon’s grip on you to tighten.

The oxygen leaves you quicker than it took you to breathe in.

“Am I interrupting?” The man asked, causing Leon to lose his focus and you took advantage of the moment to stab the syringe harshly into his throat. Your thumb harshly pushing down on the plunger as you injected the sedative into his bloodstream. He let go of you, causing you to fall to your knees as harsh coughs rake through your chest.

Leon sways slightly as he pulls the empty syringe from his neck. He blinks, the barn becoming clear to him now. Falling to his knees he looks at you, the utter terror on your face makes his blood run cold. Your wide eyes, blood trailing from your cheek and down your neck, and the way your body trembles is the last thing he sees before he goes unconscious.

It takes a minute, but you crawl over to him and pull him into your lap. You find his pulse and he seems stable as you let out a shaky breath that you’ve been holding. You curl around him, tears pouring down your face as you try to keep yourself under control. The nightmare was over and you have never felt as sick as you did now.

“Miss?” The man calls for you and you fist Leon’s shirt holding his body to yours before glaring daggers at the man.

“Luis Sera?” You ask him, your voice low as it wryly escapes from dry lips. He saw all he needed to see to know that you were with Leon.

“Sí.” He confirmed.

“I need a cure.”

———————————————————

Leon bumped shoulders with some agents, but he couldn’t care less as he ran down the hall and down the stairs. He was on his own mission and if he took a single moment you could be gone. His heart raced as he took the stairs to the final level of the building and out the side door. His eyes scan the dimly lit parking lot for your frame and he finds it against your car. He sees you reach for the door handle and he calls for you, “Hey!”

You are startled slightly, but you turn to look at him. You send him a warm smile and a little wave as he jogs to your side. Normally he’d send you warm regards back, but he was upset.

“Slow your roll there, pretty boy. You’ve seen the way these people drive through this parking lot. Without a care in the world, granted I’m not one to talk.” You joke, your tone is light and airy. Your relaxed posture is a clear juxtaposition of his own.

“You’re transferring?” Your brows knitted together as your once small smile turned to a frown.

“They told you, huh?”

“They did.” His heart broke, having no choice but to believe it now that you confirmed it.

“I was going to tell you over drinks this weekend.” You defend yourself with a shrug.

“They also told me that you left out the barn incident in your debriefing.” An uncomfortable silence fell over the both of you as he looked at your bandaged cheek. He shut his eyes in pain, having trouble coming to terms with the fact that he could’ve killed someone he cared so deeply for. It was only a moment of relief though until the image of you so frightened of him appeared behind his eyelids. You were so scared, you were so scared of him. He shook it off with a deep breath as he opened his eyes, “If you’re leaving because of that, because of what I did, I swear to you that I will never work with you on a mission again.”

Your eyes softened and you wanted to reach for him, but couldn’t. “Lee, no, that has nothing to do with the transfer. I trust you with my life.”

It took everything in him to not wince at your words. How could you say that? How could you possibly mean that? After everything, you still genuinely trusted him.

“Then why-?”

“Because I felt like it was something they didn’t need to know the details of, so I wrote it off. Got in trouble for it, but they connected the dots from yours and Ashley’s reports. It’s all they needed.”

“I…” He started, he had so much he wanted to say. He didn’t know where to start, he didn’t know how to handle this. “I don’t understand.” You just smile at him. His heart melted, but couldn’t bring himself to return your smile.

“I don’t either.” You reassure him, “They’ve got a couple loose ends to tie up and they want me to finish the job, so I took the position. It’s only supposed to be temporary or did you even let them get that far before running out here?”

He didn’t, he just left. Which he shouldn’t have, but hindsight was something he was still working on. A short laugh escaped him before admitting it to you, “No.”

You giggled as your hand went to cover your growing smile. You both soaked up this sense of normalcy for a minute, basking in the glow of each other.

“You are something else, Kennedy.”

“In a good or bad way?” His tone was flirtatious as he relaxed slightly.

“A bit of both, just how I like it.” You gaze at him through half lidded eyes. He wanted to touch you, he wanted to pull you to his chest and kiss you so deeply that he would still linger on your lips as you drove home.

He didn’t, as a fear of your rejection crept up his neck. He hasn’t laid a finger on you since you both had gotten back, not wanting to trigger your fight or flight reflexes. It was a miracle that you didn’t start running the opposite direction when you saw him. He’d let you come to him, he refused to force himself upon you. No matter how badly he needed to feel you.

“When do you leave?”

“Next week.” It hurt to finally confront, “Why? You want to throw me a going away party in the break room?” You joked, trying to cover up the pain in your voice.

“Absolutely.” He said with a smile and you just rolled your eyes.

“I’ll pass, but if you want to go out for drinks?” You ask, raising a brow.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.” He chuckled, his brain beginning to stumble over the word temporary. “How long is temporary, by the way?”

“Hey, we have to have something to discuss over drinks.” You didn’t want to break it to him now that temporary meant almost two years. Your lips form a tight smile that didn’t fool him, but he understood.

“Right.” An awkwardness starts to clog his throat, “You also didn’t mention Ada in your reports either.”

You sighed, refusing to look at him as your stomach turned into an empty pit, “I’m afraid that’s another topic I’ll have to save until I have some alcohol in my system.” His brows knitted together and he sighed. Every conversation starter leads him to a dead end. Every excuse to spend more time with you coming up short.

“I understand.” He didn’t, but he was willing to be patient. He owed you more than just his patience.

“Listen, I’ve gotta get going. I’m meeting an old friend for dinner and breaking the transfer news to them as well. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You go to open your car door and he just watches you run from him. Unable to move or speak as he prepares himself to wallow in the depression of your absence.

“Tomorrow, Princess.” Your heart flutters at the nickname as you crack a smile. You get into the car and start the engine. You roll your window down and take a final look at him, your chest blossoming despite everything.

“You still have stuff to do so don’t start something you can’t finish.” He smiles as you put the car in reverse and back out of your parking spot. “Goodnight, dear.” You shout from your window before rolling your window up and driving away from him. Leaving him in an empty parking lot while he waved you away. Leon let out a heavy sigh as his hands found their way into his pockets.

His thoughts ran wild as he tried to think of a way to fix this.

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