custard0nut - Tumblr blog

custard0nut · 7 months

Text

⦑ no life without death ⦒✶.*

pairing(s): luis serra navarro x f!reader synopsis: you watch the love of your life leave in pursuit of repentance from his former sins. inspired by @luisnavarros content: character death, hurt/slight comfort, sad letters, mentions of trauma « 0.7 k words┇masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »

“Why are you crying, hermosa?” Luis’ smooth hand journeyed to your waist, the velvety graze of his palms pulling you closer. A sensation he knows will yield your uncertainty, the gentle act dulled the anxiety away, even if it’s just for a moment.

“You’re leaving, Lu.” The words spat out, brimmed with exhaustion. You’re about to lose him again.

Luis secured the strap of his duffel bag onto his shoulder, the other hand crinkling the one way flight ticket to Spain. Sorrow re-emerged Luis like an old friend, something that never truly goes away, especially after all the atrocies he had enabled, all the lives killed as a result. Paying the price for it, still, seven years after the incident. “And I’ll be back before you know it, eh?”

“I don’t care if you worked for Umbrella… please. Just don’t go.” Your brows writhed against each other, pupils glossy.

Luis wanted to hold you. Never let you go. Submerged you into his arms. But how could he protect anyone with hands made of destruction? How could he protect you like this? The guilt, like the black mould itself, festered in his very soul. It was now or never.

“Don’t cry, mi amor. Tears don’t look good on such a beautiful señorita like you.” His finger brushed against your lower lash line, collecting the tears in his lovingness. The steel ring on his index finger chilled your face as he moved, and you know it was futile to stop the man you love. “I must go. You know it.”

“Let someone else do it. Let them take the burden in their hands. It doesn’t have to be you.” Years and years of therapy Luis attended had allowed him to speak more about his past and came to peace with the memories. You thought he was doing so well. That he was finally going to let the past go, be with you forever. “You’ve done enough repenting. What about your happiness?”

As if consumed by your affection, Luis soothed your body into his. You saw Luis as who he was, and not just a pawn of Umbrella.

“Señora Dulcinea.” Luis ensnared your lips into his, capturing your breath through a soulful press of the lips. He planted his everything, his yearning for him, his tenderness, into a kiss so passionate, it seeped through layers of built-up apprehension. A kiss so beautiful, and one that you will never forget to be the last kiss you two will ever share. “Siempre te querré, cariño.”

“I will always be your Señora Dulcinea.” The tears almost poured out of you as you spoke, but you wanted Luis to leave on a good note. One that did not have you drowned in your own tears.

You smiled, and before you knew it, you slept in peace with Luis’ surrounding you with his warmth. Luis picked you off his embrace and placed you on the couch with a blanket over you.

A final kiss, a farewell on your forehead. He hated to leave without saying his final goodbyes, but Luis feared that his legs won't leave if you’re awake. His heart had been strung along so far by you, whether intentional or not. And that would never change.

Luis walked out of the door, and you are still waiting for him to come back to this day.

Until.

Six months later, a gentleman arrived at your door. Blonde, black suit from head to toe, guilt lingered his eyes. “My name is Leon. I worked with Luis.”

“Is he okay?” you asked, desperate. He didn’t respond, which told you exactly what you needed to hear. What you didn’t want to hear.

“Luis left a message to you.” Leon uttered and passed an envelope to you. “It took me a long time to find you. He kept you a secret, to protect you from Umbrella.”

You picked up the envelope, ripped it as fast as you could manage without damaging the contents and read:

My Señora Dulcinea, If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead, eh? Miguel de Cervantes once said ‘Hasta la muerta es toda la vida.’ There is no life without death. You gave me a second chance at living. After everything, you forgive my wrongdoings. Without you, I am a wandering nomad without purpose. Without a reason to live for. You freed me. That’s why I need to leave… If only to save one in many I’ve killed… Señora, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me one last time, for leaving you. To protect you from this plaga that cursed our home. And I’ll do it all over again just to see your smile, cariño. Yours forever, Luis Serra Navarro

NOTE: I don't speak spanish. if you do & there's any inaccuracies, i would appreciate any corrections. translation:

Hermosa - gorgeous

Siempre te querré, cariño - I will always love you, darling.

Señora Dulcinea - Lady Dulcinea - a princess in the book Luis references throughout RE4R "Don Quixote" by Miguel de Cervantes

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose.

#luis serra x reader #luis serra angst #BASHING MY HEAD INTO THE WALL

214 notes · View notes

custard0nut · 7 months

Note

Having some mad fuckboy!Leon thoughts rn

After he's unlearned all the stuff he taught himself and is basically done with the whole fuckboy thing oh man he would be SO soft. Holding your hand? Check. Cuddling at his dorm? Check. Being more gentle and loving during sex? Also check.

Also, stealing his hoodies. He'd melt for sure

oh, for sure. healed fuckboy!leon would be a SIGHT TO BEHOLD.

he wouldn't be perfect...

progress isn't linear. he'd stumble a lot. make a lot of mistakes and backward steps. you would need to be patient. you would need to be careful. especially in the early stages. because damn, he's trying. he's trying so hard. and you need to acknowledge the effort, even if it's hard to see, because any praise towards this will mean so much to him.

it'd come out especially on his bad days. he's more impatient. short-tempered. lashes out over seemingly mundane things. you'll need to be firm but not demeaning. catch his tells, his habits, and figure out the real reason he's behaving the way he is.

you'll need to slowly teach him the true depth of his words. that they hurt you just as much as they hurt him. he's unfamiliar with the idea of accountability, so you need to teach him about consequences. let him know you're upset and angry at him. but just because you're upset doesn't mean he's irredeemable. he'll assume any pushback is you ending things permanently. he needs the space to fuck up and forgive himself.

and damn it all, he's the jealous type. possessive. protective as all hell. it's toxic, and you need to teach him boundaries. it'll be tough. he worked so fucking hard to get you, doesn't he deserve to have you the way he needs? but no. you need freedom. he'll learn eventually, but be prepared to send a lot of "im safe and i miss u" texts to him when you're out with friends.

speaking of toxic. the toxic masculinity will be hell to unpack. sometimes it's nice! he insists on you being passenger princess. he insists on picking up the bill (well, once you're actually dating). he doesn't mind taking care of spiders (and fine, just because you asked nicely, he won't kill them). but...the bads get real bad.

displaying any kind of vulnerable emotion is like pulling teeth. when he's nervous, scared, anxious...he'll take it out on others. or himself. early progress will be made when he's blackout drunk and spilling everything to you. he reveals the deepest, most fragile parts of himself on these nights. it's like he's an entirely different person. and the next morning he'll do his best to sweep it all under the rug, but you have to fight for it. accept him and love him despite how "totally fucking lame" he acted (his words, not yours).

that being said. the good parts? oh yeah. Boyfriend Material 100%.

he'd do anything for you. anything. don't even say shit as a joke because he'll do it. at a certain point he doesn't even care if his friends think he's being stupid. you're his whole world. he'd wear stupid t-shirts for you. go to that concert you're dying to see even if he thinks the music sucks. he'll bash his head into a wall and learn to bake french pastries if it'll get you to smile. through hell and high water, he'll follow.

and yeah, he weans himself off social media. stops posting thirst trap photos and cuts ties with his sneaky links. but the lack of external validation is felt, and it kind of falls on you to fill the void. clingy won't even begin to describe what he is. he'll resort to begging. he will. late to work in the morning? that's not his problem. you're staying in that damn bed and you are cuddling him. you think him wearing tank tops in the middle of December is just a dumb mistake, but you catch on quick when he starts to shiver and needs to huddle you for warmth. "you want me to die of hypothermia? c'mon, babe. get closer." and yeah. those ice cold hands are going straight on your stomach. have fun.

part of the excitement will come from truly learning who he is as a person. most of his herculean facade is a persona. he doesn't actually like beer. he likes dry whiskey and refined clear liquors. he doesn't actually enjoy parties. the crowds make him nauseous, and he can always blame it on the alcohol. he's not actually all that into sports. you figure out he has a well-loved public library card and he knows the mystery section like the back of his hand. he's vibrant. shockingly intelligent. gets that light in his eyes when you nudge him about his interests. it'll be hard to get him to admit it, but his favorite part of the week is huddling on the couch watching nature documentaries with you.

and it's a two-way street. he remembers everything about you. early on in your relationship you casually assume he'll never keep track of the important dates. that's the stereotype, right? you couldn't be more wrong. birthdays. anniversaries. doctor's appointments. your fucking dog's yearly vaccine. he won't necessarily go all-out, not until you're more of a long-term thing, but what he does is meaningful. sincere. you won't get $500 of flowers and chocolate for valentine's day, but he'll abduct you from work, drive you out far, far into the countryside. lay out a patchwork blanket and stare at the night sky. he brought your favorite brand of pita chips and sneakily worms a gift box in your hand. it's that stupid $15 thing that's been sitting in your online shopping cart for weeks that you could never justify buying. and yeah, he'd appreciate a blowjob under the stars, but seeing you happy is enough.

and you could never begin to imagine how loving and passionate he can get during sex. it's totally different than his usual flavor. casual hook-ups and one-night stands are merely a fraction of his power. he tends to avoid intimate gestures on those nights. no eye-contact. hardly any kissing. he likes it rough and he likes it fast. but with you? he takes his time. commits your body to muscle memory. his gaze is intense, and he watches every reaction, trying to map out your flesh like a cartographer. he'll happily make out with you for upwards of a couple hours before you even begin the real foreplay. and you always cum first. always.

oh, but if you're not a fan of PDA...he might be a problem. he's proud of you. you're the hottest thing on two legs as far as he's concerned. he'll have no issue grabbing your ass, wrapping a hand around your waist, kissing along your neck, whispering the most obscene things in your ear. it's not even to make a point. there's no rhyme or reason. he just wants to. and you're right there. and what right does the world have to tell him to stop? does it make people uncomfortable? who cares. he'll lay off if it really bugs you that much...but if he catches anyone staring at you too long he'll ramp it up. it's almost aggressive. you turn to scold him, noticing how his eyes aren't even on you. he's staring at someone else. someone who's looking at what's his.

he's a yes man, too. if you need restraint and careful guidance in your life...he's not the one. he'll support any weird, out of the blue hobby you want to pursue. if you even joke about quitting your job he'll egg you on. "i'll drive right up there and tell your boss i'll fuck his wife!" and you have to talk him down. he'll punch the sun for you. he'll be behind every impulsive purchase. every 4am trip to walmart. every instinct to feed your id. any "little treat" you want to have he'll get it. because you deserve the best. if you ever want to have a stable bank account you need the be the voice of reason. because it's not gonna be him.

yeah. he'll have a lot of problems. don't worry about that. but, at least with fuckboy!leon, you'll almost never have any doubts that he loves you. once you manage to pin his heart on his sleeve, it's there for life and it'll always be yours.

#fuckboy!leon

370 notes · View notes

custard0nut · 7 months

Text

He's so slutty in re6 it's crazy

#leon kennedy

2K notes · View notes

custard0nut · 7 months

Note

my babies…MY BABIES!!!!! EVERYTHING ABOUT THESE ARE SO ACCURATE AND ADORABLE???!!! 😭🤍

Carlos on the trampoline??? Yeah, I can imagine him going to the doctor’s for a broken arm or leg so many times and the others get to sign on his cast 🥹 He fr would show it proudly too

Not to be biased or anything Leon most likely helped Ada rebuild her lego town after Chris trampled on it (I have to include aeon)

Tysm babes for writing my request 🤍 I love it sm!!

Hi Rose 🤍 My baby fever is off the charts rn!!! So can I get a hc of any of the RE characters as a baby/toddler in a daycare pls?

Ps: Ik I said any but Chris fs was a FAT baby and Leon was a mama’s boy (thinking about that one audio rn and im sobbing 🥹)

⦑ 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 ⦒

characters: leon s. kennedy, ashley graham, ethan winters, ada wong, chris redfield, claire redfield, carlos oliveira a/n: thank you maya for requesting bby!! my queen!!! also look at me getting too into this, i love these characters so so much! check out re character's reaction & their s/o's dog ! « masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »

LEON S. KENNEDY

You are right! He is a mama's boy!!

On his first few weeks of daycare, Leon would cry the longest every time he's been dropped off.

Has a hard time adjusting to daycare, but gets used to it after making a few friends (notably chris & luis)!

He is always telling his friends and teachers in daycare about how his mama did this... mama did that... Leon is super proud of her.

Also Leon's the kind of kid who plays with cars, crashes them together and starts clapping (Not much different from the present)

ASHLEY GRAHAM

Teacher's pet just because she's always respectful, and sharing toys with her classmates.

Oftentimes, kids take advantage of that and take her toys.

Because of that, I think she's often neglected by her teachers since the other troublemaker kids need more attention, so to speak.

She would be friends with Claire as Claire would not hesitate to snitch on other kid's bad behaviour to the teacher.

Ashley loves little Sylvanian Families and play-doh - I see this developing into a slime making hobby as an adult!

ETHAN WINTERS

I'm getting the quiet, nerdy kid vibe for Ethan.

Toddler Ethan loves to collect trading cards, he doesn't necessarily know how to play the game, he just likes the glossy look of them.

I feel like he'll have trouble making friends in class because they don't understand what the cards mean to him.

Poor kid just wants someone to talk about Pokemon with.

Gets very excited about dinosaurs and will play the game "Who can name the most dinosaurs?" knowing he'll always win.

ADA WONG

Don't mess with Ada, or she'll have you regret it.

Even as a toddler, she would always get her way. Always be the first on swings.

Ada, even as a kid, enjoys her solitude and hates for that to be broken. She enjoys playing LEGO uninterrupted.

I can see her hating loud kids like Chris (And that's totally not because Chris trampled her LEGO town one time and she'd held that grudge for life)

Younger Ada teaches the other kids bad words, but somehow she is never caught, and never gotten in trouble.

CHRIS REDFIELD

Fat baby (he's just built this way)

'Accidentally' steals Claire's NERF guns, and feigns ignorance when he's confronted.

Big troublemaker at daycare. Teachers are always chasing him down but toddler Chris runs really fast.

100% Captain America enthusiast. He admires the act of serving his country, and that lead him to choose a career in military.

NERFs guns for life - I see him messing around and shooting the dart at other kids (especially Claire, usually to get back at her for snitching on him to mum)

CLAIRE REDFIELD

Younger Claire, who also inherited the Redfield attitude, takes no shit from anyone.

If Chris shoves her, Claire would shove back. And that may have resulted in a lot of sibling fights.

Strong believer of justice - Will pick fights with anyone, even big kids and adults, if she sees injustice.

Brutally honest kid - when someone asks for a compliment, she would say "That shirt makes you look fat" without batting an eye.

Alike Chris, she loves NERF guns (they often like the same guns, so it almost always turns into a brawl at the toy section)

CARLOS OLIVEIRA

Carlos, is the number one reason of all teacher's migraines in his daycare.

He is the class clown, so anything he says gets a reaction from the other kids in class (often disrupting them)

So the moment Carlos speaks (he is still focusing on whatever he's doing), the class erupts in laughter.

Toddler Carlos is the kid who mashes the music button on a toy repeatedly. A cheeky smile on his face, very entertained by it.

Also I see toddler Carlos on the trampoline a lot, often trying to jump as high as he can. Even though he is most definitely too young to be on the trampoline.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. tags: @valsthea @sporeghost @httpsuguru @emilzke @daydreamrot @navstuffs @custard0nut @ovaryacted © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

#silly little babies #the redfields probably runs the playground during recess #resident evil headcanon #leon kennedy #ashley graham #ethan winters #ada wong #chris redfield #claire redfield #carlos oliveira

158 notes · View notes

custard0nut · 8 months

Text

"Who did this to you?" trope + Leon Kennedy + Fluff (GN!Reader)

"Who did this to you?"

Leon's voice is sharp and urgent. His blue eyes scan your arms and your face, worried and angry, wrinkled forehead. Leon can't believe it. Before you can even open your mouth to explain, Leon is at his feet, disappearing in the direction of the stairs. His footsteps are heavy as he goes up the stairs. Before you can even get to the first steps, he is already opening the door to the guest bedroom.

When you arrive in the bedroom, you can hear Leon's stern voice reprimanding the one who caused you all those scratches on your arm.

"You can't do this, Meowth. That is inappropriate behavior for a gentleman cat."

You bite your lips to not laugh at the view: Leon reprimanding the cat you have recently been temporarily housing. Meowth was a fluffy orange hairball who seemed to hate you since the first encounter and, of course, adored Leon since the first meeting. Unconditionally. Meowth's golden eyes are focused on Leon, comfortable on his fluffy bed.

"It is fine, Leon," You try to argue, but Leon doesn't seem to listen, arms crossed like an upset father scolding his kid.

Meowth had scratched you before, but not so bad as this time. Someone needed to give him his meds on time, and Leon would arrive later from work, so. Meowth let his fury known the whole time you attempted to give his meds.

"It is not his fault." You argue again.

"He can't do this!"

"He doesn't understand you, babe. He is a cat." You reply a smile in your voice. "Besides, I am fine."

To your surprise (and yours only), Meowth seems to come out of his bed, his eyes focused on you. You go into alert, ready to run just in case, but Meowth, for the first time ever, simply rubs in your leg, his big golden eyes staring at you. As if apologizing.

"Uh. You are forgiven?" You answer, confused.

It seems enough. Meowth goes back to Leon, rubbing his legs and purring. Leon bends to scratch behind his ear.

"Good. Good kitty, Meowth."

You blink, smirking in their direction. You should be surprised, but you aren't. It was also nice to see Leon having a special bond with an animal, which seemed to bring happiness to him. Leon stares at you like a proud dad who just disciplined his kid, and he is pleased that it worked, and now you can't help but think you should turn this temporary housing into permanent.

#leon kennedy x reader #this is so orange cat behavior 😭

614 notes · View notes

custard0nut · 8 months

Text

i feel like Leon would have been a major mama’s boy :)

#leon kennedy #crying and sliding down the wall

1K notes · View notes

custard0nut · 8 months

Photo

Ada vs Leon

#ada wong my wife #resident evil

2K notes · View notes

custard0nut · 8 months

Text

ISN'T BITE ALSO TOUCH? part ii.

fuckboy!leon x gn!reader

content: hurt/some comfort, angst, apologies, reader is sad, brief intrusive thoughts, mentions of alcohol

The seasons change. You can only hope he will, too.

[ao3 link]

…and you didn’t see him for three months.

The shifting grace of Autumn gave way to ice. A once verdant campus green now muddled under gray snow, crunched with grit and soot. Passerbys did not linger. Bundled under layered coats and coiled up scarves, students hastily searched for warmth, leaving the sidewalks barren and lonely.

You relied on consistent distraction. School work that numbed your fingers. A fleeting, creative hobby that lasted all of a week. Outings with peers who’d never consider you a friend. None of it seemed to fix you.

And God, you missed him. More than anything in the world.

But the words looped in your head. The stinging from that night boiled into agony.

I don’t fucking need you.

He didn’t mean it. You knew better than to take his venom at face value. But it nurtured the foulest parts of yourself. Self-loathing feasted like a gluttonous beast, growing fat on the careless anger of his beer-fueled tantrum. Because if there was even the slightest chance of it being true…what had it all been for?

Were you truly just a warm body he used for shallow company? Is it possible you were just as disposable as all the rest?

But those thoughts were never allowed to mature. You snipped the buds and opened another lecture video, paralyzing any hint of an emotional response.

Sometimes you’d see him. In the distance, hovering at the edge of his usual crowd, smiling. Once or twice you even made eye contact, but he’d break it within the first moment, as if he had seen nothing but a fly among trash. It’s on those days that you cried. Cried and cried, until all that remained was bitter apathy.

Angrily, you wished he felt the same. You wanted him to break. You wanted him to regret every moment of that night from the instant his eyes opened that morning. You wanted him lost and abandoned and miserable, just like you.

And, truly, it only confirmed your worst fear. If you were always this hateful beneath it all, he never really needed you.

December bit frost under the brittle edges of your fingernails, and you conquered every day with the determination of an undying plague. Christmas was only a week away, and if you could just make it to the holidays, maybe you’d finally start to heal. There’s catharsis in the new year, meaningless or not. It might’ve been what you needed to forget everything. To forget him.

You trudged back home, your evening class wrapped up and concluded for the day. Friday used to mean something. It meant a weekend with Leon. Drunk, covered in gummy worms, squealing at some god-awful horror movie he rented just to get you to hold him. He used to wrap an arm around you, hugging you tight, promising to the moon and the stars he’d keep you safe from anything.

It was hard to take him seriously with popcorn in his teeth, but now you found yourself fantasizing the memory with teary eyes, although it’s probably just the cold weather.

With rosy cheeks and a dripping nose, you turned your key into the lock, kicking open your door with a disgruntled shove. It was dark. Your roommate left for the holiday early, leaving your dorm hollow and unwelcoming. You hovered in the common area, letting the mask you wore crumble off piece by piece.

Friday used to mean something. Now all you did was rot. You stepped over towards your half of the flat, reaching forward on instinct before a reactionary tug gave you pause. Your door was closed. It wasn’t when you left for class.

You listened, straining to hear beyond the chipped oak, but you received nothing. With a dry mouth, you closed your fingers around the knob, twisting, pushing your way in.

What awaited you inside nearly sent you to the floor.

He sat cross-legged by the bed, curled up on your little, brown rug. All you could see was his back, and the gaudy, expensive headphones clamped shut over his head. His head nodded gently to a beat you could barely make out, and he thumbed slowly through a book yanked off your shelf. It wasn’t the careless flipping of empty words, but the patient turning of pages of someone actually reading.

He never read around anyone but you.

You crept closer, letting your backpack drop to the ground like a lead weight, crashing and jolting Leon out of whatever paragraph he was enjoying. He batted the headphones off his ears, swirling to gape at you with wide, fearful eyes. His eyes.

Your favorite shade of blue.

“Jesus! Scared the fucking shit out of me–” He pressed a palm to his temple, panic easily bleeding away, but in its place you saw him tense, awaiting your anger.

“I scared you? You…how’d you even…did you break into my room?” You met him with accusation, though all you wanted was to hold him.

“...I mean, yeah. Duh. Not like you’d ever let me in willingly.” The dismissive tone of his voice riled you up more than you’d care to admit, and you stepped closer.

“Of course you’d stoop to this instead of just asking. What the hell is wrong with you?” The seasonal chill you felt walking home has all but melted completely. You were a live wire. “How’d you even get in here?”

“Come on. You know I bribe the janitor. We’re bros, me and Jeff.” He donned a cocky smirk.

“Oh, well, that’s great. I’m so happy for you, Leon. Now get the fuck out.” You vaguely gestured towards the exit, glowering down at him with an impatient scowl.

Leon’s smirk dropped. He set down the book, standing to his full height. You forgot how much taller than you he was.

“...no. I’m not leaving. Not this time.” His face hardened into a devastating intensity, prying out your seams one by one. “We need to talk. I need to…fix this.” You watched him flail his hands a bit, attempting to sculpt form to whatever this was.

You knew it would never be enough. No apology or heartfelt confession would repair the damage carved from three months of absence after the worst night of your life.

But you’ve always had shitty taste in guys, and he was the shittiest. You missed him more than anything in the world.

“Fine. Speak.” You settled on an impartial response, arms folded across your midsection. “But I’m really not in the mood for bullshit, Leon. I’m not.”

“I know,” he hung his head. “I know. I…” You were kind enough to grant him patience. The time you knew he’d need. Emotionally stunted didn’t even come close to describing Leon, and any effort on his part to offer honesty is effort you needed to encourage, in your own quiet way.

“I fucked up, okay? I really fucked up. Just like I always do and–” You noticed him halt, sucking at his teeth and wincing as if cinched with pain. “No. I’m not…fuck, listen. I’m not trying to like, make you feel bad for me I just…I always do this. I do, and you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

The words came out stuttered and unsure, as if the mere concept of an apology churned the acid in his gut. And maybe it did. What little you knew of his childhood easily explained his behavior. A blood-red thread woven into his heart like stripes on a cobra.

You nodded, coaxing him to continue. You would not shelter him with yielding platitudes.

“...all that shit I said…I was…god, I was scared. Do you realize what the hell you are? What, fuck, what you mean to me? The most fucking important person in my life and I thought I was gonna lose you over a shitty party.” He was too frustrated to look you in the eyes anymore. You felt cold again. “And you’re right. About all of it. I made you go and I ditched you and then I blamed you for – fuck, and then I didn’t have the balls to do anything for two months–”

“Three months.” You interjected, your lips a thin line, the ice he walked on.

“Three…three months? Jesus, I didn’t…” Leon ran a trembling palm through his hair, wrestling his own relationship with time. “Has it really been that long?”

You nodded.

“...I’ve been a mess. I…my grades are tanking, man, and I can’t even eat.”

Against your will, you deflated with a sad sigh. He did seem skinnier. His face sunken in. His body looked frail under his sweatshirt. You wondered if any of his other friends had noticed.

“You shouldn’t forgive me. I’m not really like, expecting you to. But I…I’m…” The word dangled off his tongue, the teetering step into territory unknown. “I’m sorry.”

For the past three months, you dreamed of this moment. Twisted visions of him crawling back to you on his hands and knees, begging for mercy when he deserved nothing of the sort. Over and over again, you extracted pleasure from the possibility of denying him, turning your back and thriving in spite of him.

You were sure the words would feel great. Amazing, even. But hearing them in person, hearing the shriveled warble of a man reduced to his own imitation, you felt nothing.

The silence stretched for miles. Both of you were too hurt to say anything. From the floor, his headphones faded into quiet before transitioning into another song, lyrics incomprehensible from where you stood, mirroring the noise of your own thoughts.

He broke the emptiness with a cough, and scratched his neck.

“...damn, well, I should…I’ll let you enjoy your Friday, I guess. I’m sorry. I really am, I–”

“You said you weren’t leaving.” The words came out without thinking. Leon blinked.

“...what? I–”

“You said. You weren’t leaving. Not this time. Are you really going to break another promise, Leon?” You’re not stupid. You understood your challenge was nothing more than a thinly-veiled plea to get him to stay. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your dignity died with the autumn leaves.

“...oh, I was…I didn’t think you’d – yeah. Okay. Yeah, I’m not leaving. Not going anywhere. Swear on it.” Leon puffed his chest a little, the hopeful beginnings of a smile creasing his cheeks. A real smile.

You shuffled closer, breathing in, filling your lungs with mercy.

“Did you really mean what you said, Leon?” It was spoken so softly, and he leaned closer to hear, just as you hoped he would.

He smelled like cedar.

“...what I said?” There’s confusion in his stare, yet he tilted his head, an eagerness to understand.

“When you said you…when you said you didn’t need me. That I was–” Whatever else you were going to say didn’t matter. In an instant, you’re strangled with warmth. Arms latched tight around your chest, your face smashed into the flesh above his heart.

“I need you.” It’s said so easily. And you knew he didn’t need to think twice. “I needed you every day and I will need you every day after today and…every year and…just, so much, man.” Ruefully, you couldn’t help but laugh. Such an indelicate way of speaking. So thoroughly Leon.

Your arms wrapped around his stomach, squeezing with a reluctant pressure. You still couldn’t believe he was real. But here he was.

“Okay. That’s all I needed to hear.” You went slack in his hold, forgoing oxygen in favor of him. He filled your mind and soul, and you never knew you could miss the scent of Irish Spring so much.

“...okay. Is…Is that it? I mean, not that I– shit, are we good? We chill?” He pried you off, cupping your cheeks with burning palms, searching your eyes for safety. Reassurance.

You wanted to give him that. But pretty words and a warm hug were only enough to quiet your demons. They did nothing to heal.

“No, we’re still not friends.” You said finally, staring away, unable to face his reaction.

“Wait, seriously? What…but I–”

“I don’t forgive you, Leon. Not…not yet.” Cautiously, you gripped his wrists, lowering his hands back to his sides. “I missed you. A lot. But it took you three months to tell me all of this. Three. Months.”

“Yeah, but…you’re actually just…gonna leave me forever? For three months?” It’s not anger in his voice, simply the aching desperation of a heart longing for closure. An answer to every question he had.

“Listen, I…we can be friends again, maybe soon, maybe later. I still wanna see you and hang out and stuff, but…it’s gonna take time, okay?” His shoulders sagged. “You have a lot of things you need to work on, and I can’t be the one to fix them. It has to be you, Leon. It has to be different.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him clench his fists. A vein pulsed on his neck, and you braced yourself for the backlash. The brewing storm he hid behind when he was afraid.

But whatever happened the past three months has drained the fight from his body, and he went soft again, his posture slouching.

“I’ll get better. I will. But…can I ask you something? Can I ask you to promise me one thing? Just one?”

You stared at him again. His ocean stirred, but you stayed afloat.

“Sure, Leon.” you whispered.

“...wait for me. Promise me you’ll still be here when I come back. When I’m…when I’m fixed.” He was so close, you could study each twitch and crinkle of his face. All the voiceless ways he loved you. “Will you let me come back to you?”

It wasn’t even a question.

“I promise, Leon.”

And you loved him, too.

#leon kennedy x reader #fuckboy!leon #damn my heart :’)

604 notes · View notes

custard0nut · 8 months

Photo

BLACK BIRD 1x01 “Pilot”

#DAMN #taron egerton

7K notes · View notes

custard0nut · 8 months

Text

PAIRING(S) -> (RE2) LEON SCOTT KENNEDY

SYNOPSIS -> Leon Kennedy as a stranger you've met, and have remained in your heart ever since.

NOTE -> College! AU, written in headcanons, cliche romance trope used, NOT edited and I don't really plan to idk, probably OOC ( idk it was 5 in the morning when I wrote tgis..), gn! reader.

EXTRA -> didn't turn out how I expected & I suck at titles. This is my first post so I'm a lil nervous but I hope u guys enjoy nonetheless <3

✭ Leon Kennedy, the person who let you have the last copy of a romance novel you wanted. You had had just been informed that there was a sale and the library's books would be half off, so you were running to the library in a complete frenzy. Unfortunately for you, the sale would end at midnight!

✭ Even though it was already too late and there was very little possibility that the library would have anything you would be interested in, luck seemed to be on your side. The last copy of the book, which was normally outrageously costly, is sitting right there in the romance aisle and is only half the price. you could actually see the book glowing and hear angels singing behind you.

✭ Well, someone picked it up before you could, ruining what could have been a perfect moment. In a brief moment of dread, you were considering whether or not you could take him in a fist fight as he casts a critical glance on the book.

✭ But as the blond gave you a puzzled glance at your dejected appearance, you decided to put your dignity aside and.. beg.

✭ It was truly a pitiful sight. You were about kneel before the poor man and beg for a probably shitty romance novel. You knew you'd be angry with yourself if you came home with nothing, and you weren’t about to risk a mental breakdown for a book. Nuh-uh, not today.

✭ But instead, he simply handed the book to you with a warm smile. There was no need for you to throw away your dignity or engage in any small conversation, it was almost like he could read your mind. You simply stared at the male in surprise as he walked away.

✭ Several days later, you see him again at the same library. Maybe it really is a small world.

✭ You saw him while studying for an exam; you needed more stable wifi since the coffee shop nearby just wasn't cutting it.

✭ Seeing him in the library once again, standing around and checking out books left you baffled. Did he come here often?

✭ From that point on, you'd always take a seat at the table next to the one in front of him to get the finest possible view of him. You'd even internally freak out everytime he smiled at the book he was reading because.. Who could blame you when you see a smile this cute?

✭ These visits of yours soon grew more frequent. In truth, you were just there to watch the handsome stranger while you pretended to be studying. You'd probably fail your exam, but maybe your professors would understand if they get the luxury of seeing his pretty face.

✭ You genuinely believed that you were being slick, but it turns out that you weren't. One day, as you were skimming through (which was really just you reading one line multiple times) one of the books you just borrowed for 'studying', Leon approached you with a cheeky grin.

★ “The book is upside-down, y'know.”

✭ Ah, so that's why the words were so hard to read. Not that you were paying attention anyway.

✭ The expression on his face, which you might also interpret as being a touch flirty, said it all. He was aware of your ulterior motive this whole time, and you couldn't be more embarrassed.

✭ But it didn’t matter in the end, because after you two shared a nice talk, which was mostly you apologizing countless of times and explaining that you weren't stalking and just admiring, you got a kiss on your cheek, and his number scribbled on a sticky note on a book he recommended you.

#leon kennedy x reader #me when

62 notes · View notes

custard0nut · 8 months

Text

Coffee Blend

Yandere-ish Leon Kennedy x fem reader (Full disclosure, I have not played any RE games but have read a tonne of fic of various game ones soooo...)

Two long weeks of quarantine and a night at last in his own bed, albeit broken up by nightmares of parasites wriggling beneath his skin, black darkening his veins, Leon headed to his favourite café in pursuit of a much-needed caffeine hit.

And his favourite barista.

Your coffee shop had opened just a block away from his apartment and he’d ventured in one day after his supply at home had grown stale. You’d charmed him from the outset – friendly, beautiful and had made him the best damn cup of coffee he’d ever had, alongside a case of delicious hand-made pastries and cakes. He often spent the mornings there if assignments permitted, soaking in the atmosphere, sometimes with a book in hand that he never really reads, listening to the conversations surrounding him. Leon likes to remind himself there’s still good in this horrible world, and it all revolves around you.

“Hey, stranger!” You beam as he steps through the door, the bell tinkling above his head. Leon nods in greeting, trying to play it cool at your enthusiasm. “I thought you’d abandoned me and all.”

“Abandoned?” He looks around as he approaches the counter, noting he is, in fact, the only customer. Odd for what would be deemed the morning rush.

You sigh, and his stomach knots to see how you almost deflate in front of his eyes. Your usual cheery demeanor was something that he found so refreshing, soaking in your positivity. “Yeah, RoboCoffee opened up a block over a fortnight ago.”

“You’re kidding. That crap made it here?” He’d seen it on the news a few times – a franchise popping up all over the country. Touchscreen ordering, no face-to-face interaction, the coffee popping out of a slot, all disposable cups and cheap prices.

“Mm. I thought people found the personal touch endearing. But, no, they want their coffee served by a robot.”

“Jeez.” A sympathetic smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You give a half-hearted smile in return. Men calling you pet names had sat wrong with you in the past, but there was just something about the way Leon seemed to say it – it wasn’t condescending, just endearingly genuine.

“Maybe it’s just the novelty of the thing. Anyway,” you shake your head, as if you could just shake off all the negativity swirling around in your brain, and try and plaster a smile back on. “Where have you been? It’s been, like, four weeks, I think.”

Four weeks, five days, Leon corrects in his head.

“Er, yeah. Sorry. I was in Spain… Work stuff.”

“Huh…” You tilt your head at him in scrutiny – adorably so, he thinks – as your eyes scan the top half of his body and you then grab hold of his wrist. The sudden motion would’ve made him reach instantly for his gun if it hadn’t been you doing it. Your fingers gently pull up his watch strap up, examining the skin underneath. “I suppose you do have a bit more colour to you. Not a lot of sunbathing, I take?”

He chuckles at the idea. “Afraid not.”

“Did you get to do anything but work?”

He shakes his head. “No. Got some time off now, though.”

“But didn’t want to extend your trip?”

“Well, I had a real hankering for some of that fine coffee brewed by yours truly.”

“Ugh. That’s why everyone’s abandoned me - I forget to actually offer anyone coffee! Sorry.” You roll your eyes at your self-deprecation. He doesn’t like when you do that. You should speak more highly of yourself, acknowledging the wonderful woman you are.

He can tell you’re trying your best to put up a façade for him, that you’re totally fine with the lack of customers, but he can see right through it. The spark in your eyes has dulled a little.

“Anything new on the menu?”

“Yes, actually - I’ve been tinkering with a new blend and I need your trusted opinion.”

“Oh, yeah?” He smiles, leaning forward over the counter.

“Mm. It’s a deep body, with flavours of nuts and chocolate and an earthy finish. I thought you’d like it, if I can use you as a guinea pig.”

“How can I say no to that?”

“Coming right up.” You smile – this time he notices it reaches your eyes, at least. “Sitting in?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Great.” A piece of hair drops in front of your eyes as you look down and all he can think of is how much he wants to brush it behind your ear.

His phone chimes in his pocket and he turns away from the counter to check the message, cursing under his breath when he sees the name. Hunnigan wants him in the office – more paperwork to go through.

“Ugh. Sorry, work apparently need me in today after all. Can I get that to go?”

“Oh. Y-yeah, sure.” You’ve got your back turned to him, obviously hoping that’s disguised the crack in your voice.

He leaves you to focus on the coffee – something he knows you take pride in. It’s an art to you, this whole place is a culmination of your passions. You seem to have regained your composure as you turn to him, coffee in hand.

“You’ll need to give me a thorough review next time you’re in, okay?”

“Definitely. It smells wonderful, as a preview. How much?”

“$2.50, please.”

“Here.” He slides over a $10 bill and picks up the coffee cup. “Includes a tip – for my absence.”

“Leon, that’s too much.”

He takes a step back from the counter, free hand up in protest.

“Wait. Hold on…” You grab a paper bag and scribble something on it with a marker, before grabbing a dark chocolate chip cookie – something you know he’s been partial to in the past - from the counter and sliding it inside. “There. Less ridiculous of a tip. Please?”

Leon steps forward again, can’t resist the pleading in your voice. “Thanks.” He looks at the string of digits on the bag and asks the question he already knows the answer to. “And this…?”

“My number.” You shrug, trying to act nonchalant about it, but failing abysmally. He’s too good at reading your body language, noting how you fidget. “You know, just in case you go to Spain or somewhere again you can let me know, so I don’t worry about you.”

“Aw, you were worried? Cute.”

“I thought you had to get to work.” You jibe back.

“I do. See you tomorrow, sweetheart. I’ll bring my tasting notes.” He raises the cup in demonstration, winking as he heads out the door.

Aided by the delicious blend of coffee and cookie you’d provided him, he makes it through the remaining paperwork by early afternoon. Parking a few streets away from his apartment complex, he tugs his collar up and pulls the cap retrieved from his trunk down as he enters RoboCoffee. Treat it like a stealth mission, he’s decided, chosen a time he knows you will still be working. He knows a dip in customers isn’t going to make you abandon your regular opening hours, so there’s no chance at all of you walking past – though why would you, seeing as you lived in completely the opposite direction? - and seeing him in there. That would break your sweet heart.

He wants to see what the fuss is about, why this establishment seems to have driven everyone away from yours.

He wants you to be happy, after all.

Every table is taken in what he would describe as a sterile canteen. The place is void of conversation, the only sound of people typing on their laptops, an empty coffee cup in front of them. He’s seen this type before at your place – hoping to nurse a coffee for as long as they could in exchange for the shelter and table space. You are, however, gifted with natural charm and entice them into another cup as they continue to hog the table.

The far wall is lined with touchscreen-type vending machines, displaying a variety of different coffees. He wanders up to one – 75 cents for an Americano – and waits for the swill to be dispersed.

It only takes a moment – it comes out almost lukewarm. Probably to avoid a lawsuit. He takes a mouthful and grimaces. Foul, mud water compared to that delectable blend he’d sampled earlier.

He swiftly drops it in the waste bin to a loud thunk, but no-one lifts their head. There must be a cleaning crew come in after the place automatically locks for the night, he reasons. He walks out as swiftly as he came in – he must’ve been in there less than five minutes in total.

The next morning, Leon makes his way to the coffee shop. He’s a little later than yesterday, but he can see through the window that the place is as dead as it was yesterday. He can’t see you behind the counter as he pushes the door open, the bell once again tinkling to signal his arrival, and he finds that worrying. Are you in the back room?

But then his ears pick up on a sniffle, coming from behind the counter itself.

“Hello?” He asks, cautiously, walking over. His hand hovers over his gun from instinct.

The sniffling stops, abruptly. He leans over the counter – you’re cuddling your knees, head buried into them.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hi.” You mumble.

“Coming over.” He hops over the counter, smoothly, silently, and crouches down besides you. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing.”

He slips his hand beneath your chin and tilts it up, meeting your teary eyes.

“Please?”

“I… I was going through the income and expenditure this morning and if this keeps up, I’ll be bankrupt in a month.” Your voice is thick, obviously trying to hold in the tears. He doesn’t like that – why would you try and hide your true emotions from him? “I put everything into this place and it’s just gonna end like this. What am I going to do, Leon?”

“You are going to get up off the floor, go have a seat, and I am going to make you one of those chamomile teas you tried to sell me on when I told you I was having trouble sleeping.”

You go to protest but he hushes you before you can get a word out, offering you his hand. “Come on, sweetheart. I still owe you a coffee review too, hm?”

You nod, wiping your face before accepting his hand. He easily pulls you up to your feet, before putting a hand on the small of your back and ushering you round to the other side of the counter in the direction of a seat.

You take a shuddering breath, looking thoroughly pathetic and he wants to just bundle you up in his arms, not letting this world hurt you like that again. “T-thanks, Leon.”

He smiles, turning his back on you to start on that tea. RoboCoffee is gonna fucking pay.

The next morning, he pulls up your number in his phone – saved under sweetheart of course – and sets his plan into motion.

Hey – it’s Leon. Work dragging me out of town for a night or two – just in the airport. I’ll swing by Friday, so don’t worry about me, okay? Chin up.

It’s only a couple of minutes until he gets a reply.

Hey! Thanks the heads up and thank you for being so sweet yesterday. I’ve got some ideas so I promise you won’t be met with a repeat of that when you get back. Safe travels x

He turns his attention back to his laptop. He’s sat on his couch, still very much in his apartment – a necessary white lie – still in his sweats, and goes over the notes he took of his surveillance over RoboCoffee the night before.

They won’t be making you cry again.

Friday morning and Leon, true to his word, enters the coffee shop, but is met by a completely different atmosphere than his last couple of visits. It’s not packed to the brim, but most of the tables are occupied and conversation fills the space once more. You haven’t turned when you hear the bell ring, engrossed in brewing up someone’s order and he smiles – he can tell immediately your shoulders are back, you’re relaxed, at ease once more.

Perfect.

“Something’s different in here this morning.” He quips as he makes it over to the counter and you turn abruptly, a gorgeous smile on your face as you see him.

“Leon! Yeah. I meant to text you – did you see the news?”

He fakes a frown. “What news?”

“Gimme one minute.” You finish the preparing the coffee and hurry round the counter, delivering it to the table with your usual charm and grace. You head back round and pull out your phone, passing it over to him. It’s open on a browser, on a news website.

RoboCoffee razed by inferno.

“Shit. Were people there?”

“No, no-one hurt. Middle of the night. Cops released some CCTV – it’s blurry as heck, but just some figure all in black walking away from the camera. They said it looks like it was a targeted attack. Isn’t that weird?”

“Mm. Someone must really hate robots – coming in here, taking our jobs.” He teases. “So, uh, customers all came crawling back?” He looks around accusingly, trying to see if he recognizes anyone from his jaunt there.

“Hush!” But you grin all the same. “I’ll forgive them. The new blend’s doing really well. I’m calling it the Kennedy blend, by the way.” He notes the slight pink tinge to your cheeks. Ugh, you’re adorable.

“Sweetheart, I’m flattered.”

“It’s the least I can do. Can I get you one?”

“Sure. And I’m sitting in, turning my cell off.” He grins back, making a show of pressing the off button. They owe him this much.

“Coming right up.”

“Looking forward to it,” he goes to turn, to nab a table before anyone else can get one, when he hesitates, playing it up. “Forgive me if this is not usual barista/customer etiquette, but I’d love to take you for dinner tonight, if you’re free?”

“Yes.” The word shoots out of your mouth without hesitation and you blush furiously. “I mean, y-yeah. I’d like that.”

“Great.” He smiles, heading towards a table towards the back corner. You’re hit by an odd feeling of deju vu as you watch him walk, something about the way his hips sway, but it’s not clear as to where…

You shrug it off, mind swiftly turning to what on earth you’ll wear tonight, and start brewing his coffee.

Leon smiles, watching his sweetheart back at doing what she loves so much.

Perfect.

#leon kennedy x reader #omg kennedy blend

515 notes · View notes

custard0nut · 8 months

Text

Ghost of You

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GhostGN!Reader

Summary: Leon Kennedy is being haunted and couldn't be happier about it.

Warnings tags: shortfic, horror elements, hurt/some comfort, mention of death, alcoholism and suicide

Author's Notes: hello september!! though i always told myself i would never write for ghosts due to personal reasons, here i am lol just a heads up: my requests have been put to a halt because SPOOKY SEASON! all my attention will be on my halloween event until the end of october (this shortfic is part of it unofficially). and lastly, my inspiration came from wuthering heights, where catherine haunts(?) heathcliff. enjoy!

taglist - @roseglazedlens

"Ghosts. What happens after we die? Do we stay stuck in the place where we died, where we lived, or do we get to pass to another dimension? Reincarnation? Heaven? Hell? All those questions bring another even bigger one: Does God even exist?"

Leon yawns, tired, as the narrator continues discussing what exactly ghosts are. You munch your popcorn with interest, your eyes focused on the TV ahead of you. Leon's arms surround your body, bringing you close to him, your stare focused on the TV. Leon then tries one last time with a dramatically loud yawn that finally catches your attention.

"What is it?"

"Should you be watching this late at night? You know you won't be able to sleep later."

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. Leon is right. Though you loved anything spooky and scary, you always had nightmares later at night. You would have to hold tightly to your boyfriend's body like a teddy bear. Not that Leon complained about that part, just primarily worried about your sleep quality.

"No, I shouldn't. But you know I can't stop."

"Do you watch any of that stuff while I am gone?"

"Not really. You know I need you to face my fears." You chuckle, hitting Leon lightly on the arm.

After the show ends, you turn off the TV and finally cuddle properly with Leon. It is so good to be back with you and feel your warm presence near him. It always gave him peace. Leon could feel himself falling asleep when he heard your voice asking something.

"W-what?"

"Do you believe in ghosts, Leon?"

Leon pauses briefly, thinking about the best way to answer. Even if for him, knowing the next location of Big Foot didn't matter, that the Lochness monster could not be a pre-historic dinosaur, or entering supposedly haunted mansions to find ghosts for the 18th century weren't important, they sure mattered to you.

"You know what my feelings are about those, hun," Leon answers, his voice tired, and you nod.

"Yeap. All baloney."

"It might be nonsense to me, but it is not for you. And I take that very, very seriously. You know, I will always be your partner, no matter how spooky it can get. You are having fun, and that is what matters." You smile happily as Leon holds your cheek, rubbing it with his index finger.

"What if it was my ghost, Leon?"

"Your what?"

"My ghost. If, for some reason, I died, and you saw my ghost? Would you believe it then?"

"Honey, I seriously don't think..." Leon can see how serious this is for you, so he sighs before he answers, "Yes. I would believe. I wouldn't be afraid. I would welcome you with open arms."

You seem finally satisfied with his answer and let go of the topic, to Leon's relief. He knows how morbid you can get, but talking about your death is a whole other level.

Because it would feel wrong and unfair.

And no matter the circumstances, Leon would be mostly enraged. He probably wouldn't end up saying nice things to your ghost anyway.

-x-

Six months later

The TV's sound in the background talks about a recent sight of a Mothman as Leon is lying on the sofa. His house has all the lights on, and Leon got used to it by now. There are a few bottles on the floor, some old, some new, but much less than six months ago.

Six months ago, he found your body lifeless in the middle of your bedroom. Leon tried CPR as he called emergency, thanking the years of training for not breaking down under pressure, his mind focused on getting any heartbeat. Any sign of life.

But it was too late. A heart attack that causes sudden death is uncommon at your age, explained the emergency doctor. There was nothing they could do or what Leon could have done. You were probably dead for a while until he found you.

Time passed. Leon doesn't have any particular memory, going in and out of long periods of melancholy, thinking what the hell he has done to deserve all that shit.

But he gets better eventually (everyone always said he would anyway), or in other words, Leon learns how to function without you. It isn't easy in the first weeks, and Leon got close to joining you. But he remained strong. He knew that whenever you were, you would hate him if he joined you earlier than he should.

Recently, Leon adapted to a routine if he isn't on missions: wake up, go on a run (your favorite playlist is his choice of music, though not appropriate for a run), get home, shower, and then try to occupy his mind with anything that was about you. And most of the time, that involved your horror shows. Those shows could bring just a little of that warm feeling only you brought to his chest (Leon wouldn't admit it, but he also tried an Ouija board to contact you. It didn't work, and he felt like an idiot).

It doesn't take long for Leon to hear strange noises in the house. The noises of footsteps he knows so well behind him disappear when he looks back. Or when there is a shadow on a wall. He would recognize that silhouette anywhere in the world, but before he can follow, it disappears in the next ray of light. The scratching sounds coming from the glass windows must be your way of saying hello, I am still here. I am never leaving you.

Late at night, when he is trying to sleep, Leon thinks he can feel your presence as soon as he closes his eyes. Your voice whispering his name. As soon as he opens them, you are gone.

He isn't scared. On the contrary, Leon Kennedy wants to see you.

He makes sure you feel at home: he leaves all lights on and the TV on with your shows. He wants, no matter where you are, to feel comfortable. And if he is lucky enough, he might be able to actually see again someday.

Until then, he is happy enough being haunted by you.

#leon kennedy angst #my heart </3

88 notes · View notes