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reve-writes · 11 months

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—the set-up; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1,8k words. ʚ from this request. | three times the crows plan to set you and kaz up + the one time they find out you're married. ʚ fluff; the crows are featured (incl. wesper & helnik ship); kaz's touch aversion isn't featured. ʚ a/n this has been sitting in the drafts for a bit. ive been suffering down the leon brainrot hole (honestly an excellent one to fall into). kaz calls reader schatje (i have a fic where he does this. i chose schatje because ketterdam is loosely inspired from 1500s-1700s amsterdam!). i wrote this in a goofy way honestly.

one. he smiles.

Wylan fiddles with jars and tubes filled with an assortment of chemicals—some of them tend to explode, all of them horrible smelling. He's supposed to be on guard duty and he prefers it over running around guns blazing alongside Jesper—as much as he loves the sharpshooter, gunshots give him a lot of anxiety.

He peers into the room where most of the work is happening.

You are poring over stacks of documents, eyes scanning quickly top-to-bottom to find relevant information. Kaz has his ear pressed against the front of a safe, gloved hand twisting the lock. You move around him in the cramped office space with relative ease, grabbing more files to read on the desk.

It doesn't take long for the safe to swing open.

“No safe is safe from Kaz Brekker, the safe-cracker, huh?” you comment. A light, teasing smile decorates your lips.

“Please never say that sentence again.”

To Wylan's surprise, the ever-frowning Dirtyhands smiles. Not the half-hearted hospitable smile he occasionally gives out, or the scary half-sneer half-smirk that is so intimidating it scares even Wylan sometimes. No, a genuine, amused smile. It is so unnatural that he has to look away, a hand clasped over his mouth in shock.

When he tells Jesper, the taller man mirrors his reaction, dark eyes blown wide and jaw unhinged.

“He smiled?” Jesper gives an incredulous stare as if Wylan has just told him that he is a member of the Council of Tide—which is impossible with Wylan's lack of Grisha ability, let alone tidemaking. “He smiled over that?”

Wylan nods enthusiastically.

“We are talking about the same Kaz?”

“Are there any other Kaz that we know?” Wylan sighs.

“Well, no—”

“I think we have to proceed with the plan,” Wylan ponders. Jesper blinks widely.

“The plan?”

“Nina's plan!” Wylan looks at Jesper as if he's just gotten a strike of inspiration, hand in the air, pointing at nothing in particular. “Operation Kaz and ____. Remember?”

Jesper remembers. It was so ridiculous that it remains impossible to remove from his memory to this day, even though it was mentioned in passing.

Nina, flushed red from too many drinks, suddenly shoots her hand up, flailing it limply. The founder of the idea seems to have a plan ready to set in motion.

“We are the gods of love!” She drunkenly declares, free hand moves to tap Wylan's cheeks repeatedly. “And as the benevolent gods that we are, our first mission is them.”

Nina pushes Wylan's face towards you and Kaz, sat at the bar, deep in conversation. The rest of the Crows followed suit, realising Nina's suggestion. She stumbles over drunkenly and with little-to-no care on making it look as natural or accidental as she can, "trips" over her foot and falls forward.

You take the brunt of the force, being pushed forward that you fall onto Kaz. The latter glares at Nina, hand coming to your shoulder to steady you.

“My bad.... It seems I've lost my balance,” she slurs. “Oh! Would you look at that? The two of you would make quite a pair, don't you think so, Matthias?”

Matthias raises an eyebrow, already hauling Nina with him to get back to their table.

“Poor Helvar,” says Kaz simply, nudging you to get back on the barstool.

“He doesn't seem to mind,” you retort, noting Matthias' loving gaze as he escorts Nina.

It doesn't take long before the chaos settles, leaving you and Kaz, still engaging in conversation as the last patrons leave the Crow Club.

“We would make a good pair, huh?” You tease, reaching over to brush your hand against his, leather soft under your palm. “You think so?”

Kaz looks at you pointedly, tugging your left hand towards him, fingers pressing on the small diamond adorning your ring finger. “Would I have given you this, if I didn't?”

Smooth with his words without even trying. A trait you find both annoying and endearing after all the years you've been together.

“I mean you have a lot of diamonds lying around—”

“Schatje.”

“Yes?” All train of thought immediately halts on its tracks. The petname has a hold over you that he oh-so-often uses as leverage. You pout. “Stop distracting me.”

He smiles—soft and uncharacteristic, contradictory to the harsh rasp of his voice and the rough scars on his skin. He smiles a smile he reserves only for your eyes, and you're falling for it, a hundred times over.

two. the demjin.

You don't like when Kaz gets like this—all wrung up over a waivable matter. It reminds you a lot of what he had to be before, the things he had to do and what Dirtyhands actually stood for. Not at all akin to the Kaz Brekker you know—the one who immediately comes whenever one of your crew is threatened, the one who stays up with you as you wait for the rest of your little heist crew to return, the one who goes out of his way to collect little trinkets to bring home to you.

You are hurt, shallow cuts all over your body from a little dagger scuffle with a mercenary, but you're a member of the Dregs—this, you can take. A little Heartrender magic and some bandages, you will recover in no time.

“You're back.”

Kaz stops and you look over him to find his knuckles bloodied, hair stuck out of place and clothes disheveled.

“You're alright, schatje?”

His room at the Slat isn't big contrary to popular belief. He sinks into his chair with a huge sigh. You're watching him three steps away from the edge of his bed.

“What did you do?”

He shrugs, tugging his coat off. “Business.”

“You went after them.”

“It was one part of the business.” He pulls at his gloves, shedding them into the trash—too bloodied for him to bother cleaning. “Are you sure you're alright?”

You tuck your hands into your elbows, displeasure visible across your features. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Kaz.”

“They deserved it,” he stubbornly says. “I had to make sure they know not to involve themselves with us. You understand. Besides, I'm alright.”

“I do understand,” you relent. It is business. The Barrell doesn't stop for poets or musicians or lovers, no, it thrives off of the back of violence, taking an eye for an eye. “I just wish that you were here when I woke up.”

His shoulders loosen and he is your Kaz again. Not the one molded by Ketterdam, birthed at its harbour. He's the man so in love that he will dry the seas for you if you say the word. Kaz takes your hands. They are warm on his skin and his heart swells.

“I am sorry, schatje.”

You kneel in front of him, leaning your elbows on his thighs to press a brief kiss on his lips. “Let's stay off business for a while.”

“Kaz?” A sound outside the door, followed by three raps. “Are you in there?”

“He is, Jesper. Give us a moment,” you reply.

You hear hushed whispers—both low voices, so you assume it's Wylan. Your suspicion is confirmed when the second voice sounds from behind the door.

“No, we—no, Jes—don't have anything urgent. We simply wanted to know if he is well. Take your time. We'll be going now.”

“Good night, Wylan,” you reply, immediately hearing fading footsteps soon after.

“Fifty kruge says they're already together,” says Jesper, out of your earshot.

Wylan rolls her eyes. “Fifty on them not dating yet.”

Jesper immediately clasps Wylan's hand with a loud “Deal!”

iii. the marketplace.

“Busybodies,” Kaz complained, walking a step behind you as you're treading through the Ketterdam food market. “They are not even hiding. In broad daylight. How have they never gotten caught before?”

“Kaz, my love.” You are trying not to laugh as you're picking and choosing fruits. “They usually do a better job on actual missions.”

They refer to your five lovely friends who have decided to tail you as you're coming down to the market. Kaz is the first to take notice—blurry figures moving erratically ten steps behind you.

“I should assign them something to do instead of... whatever it is they're currently doing.”

“They're curious.” You shrug, handing over a few slips of Kruge to the seller and leaving with your bag five apples heavier. “We've been acting suspicious lately. They'll find out soon enough.”

“I'll bet Inej finds out first.” Kaz nudges your fingers with his, taking the bag from you as he matches his step with yours. “The Wraith does a better job at spying.”

“My bet is Matthias.” An unlikely one. He's probably the least nosy out of the five.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a small nook, squuezed between buildings and he presses a kiss on your lips. One turns to two and you're smiling like a lovesick fool when he pulls away.

“We're being followed and you pull this?”

“Schatje, our pursuers are horrendously bad at this.” He shrugs, pulling away. You resume your trek through the market. “Look. They've lost us.”

iv. the marriage certificate.

“Fake IDs,” Kaz says, pointing at the towering Fjerdan. “You'll be collecting them from Anika.”

Matthias doesn't mind running errands, although he does think that he'll be better suited for physical fights other than fetching papers, but he doesn't argue. It seems he is doing more than simply fetching papers though.

“That is real?” He asks Anika, pointing at a marriage certificate she has on her desk. Marriage certificates are mundane enough not to warrant this type of reaction, but it is the name that shocks even him to the core. Kaz Brekker and you, married?

“As real as can be around here.” Anika scrambles to hide it away. “Here are your IDs. Don't tell anyone about it.”

In Matthias' defense, he doesn't end up telling just anyone. He tells Nina and Nina is the one telling everyone else. Within a week, every member of the Crows have known about it.

Wylan hands Jesper slips of fifty kruge, grumbling that this is unfair. Nina looks like spring has just arrived. Inej is probably the least reactive—but that is because she's already found out long before the others. She's the Wraith after all. Matthias is anxious. For all everyone knows, he is the one responsible for the news.

You strut into the dining room, seeing everyone gathered and raise an eyebrow.

“Why are you all here?”

“We want to ask—”

Before Nina can finish her sentence, Jesper blurts out. “You're married?”

You chuckle, shrugging. “You found out.”

“How long?”

“Kaz? Really?”

“How did that happen?”

A series of questions that you don't actually answer. You stand there, leaning on the back of one of the wooden chairs situated in the room—remorseless to your very core.

“Ask him about it.”

That ends the discussion. None of them will actually ask him about it and even if any of them actually finds the courage to, the likelihood of Kaz answering anything that's not a sarcastic remark or a threat is close to none.

“How did you find out anyway?”

Everyone points towards Matthias and to the Fjerdan's horror, Nina's pointer finger finds him, too.

You only smile, silently planning to brag to your spouse that you've won your bet.

[ ].

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #—ki writes 🍯

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owliellder · 8 months

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The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter f! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: You know how each president of the U.S. gets a painting at the end of their term? I'm thinking like that. Plus, my favorite hobby is recreating renaissance art, so I figured this was a good fit (hopefully).

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 1: The Sketches

It was late at night when Leon made his decision to retire fully.

He had gotten home over an hour ago from reviewing mountains of paperwork, most of which pertained to missions that other agents have gone on or will be going on.

Younger agents. More energized agents.

The fact that he hadn't gone on a full mission since San Francisco was driving him up the wall. But that's what he wanted. He requested to hang back the last two years.

Both Chris and Claire had fully retired themselves right after San Fran, Claire being the first to retire to focus on her growing family with Chris following suit only a few months later. Jill was still around, but she was doing similar work that Leon was, only she was in a completely different department which was states away.

Of course Leon still talked with them all as regularly as possible, he'd go insane if he didn't, especially with Claire having a couple kids now. He wasn't the greatest with children, but it was refreshing seeing his friends achieve such normalcy. He wanted them to have the best life they could away from everything.

Having turned 40 a few some months ago, Leon was having a bit of a mid-life crisis. The mission to San Francisco a couple years ago had made him realize just how much toll the job itself had taken on his body. After being assessed and allowed home a few nights after returning from the mission, his body ached; joints creaking, back nearly thrown, just... tired.

Don't get him wrong, he was always tired after missions, but this was different. This wasn't just the regular aches and pains he dealt with after being tossed around like a rag doll, this was age.

Deep in his mind, Leon was still that 21 year old boy in Raccoon City. He never got the chance to properly grieve and move on, his mind forever changed by that event. Mentally, he was stuck there and had been this entire time.

It had taken the man this long to truly recognize the fact that he's older now. He's not that boy from Raccoon City anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.

What was he do to now? Leon had wanted so badly to serve and protect the people, but not like this. Not like he has for the past 29 years.

He spent his most formative years fighting unimaginable horrors, watching people suffer, watching people die. You don't just come back from something like that.

And unlike the friends he's managed to keep close, Leon didn't have someone he trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself most days.

So now here he was, sitting drunk in his shower with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees while the water pelted down on him, silently mulling over everything he's ever seen and done during his time as an agent.

The water had grown cold at this point, Leon having quickly lost track of how long he was sitting spaced out like that for. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned himself before he ended up sitting down, so the hardest part now was just standing back up to get himself back out.

It took him a couple more minutes before he finally hoisted himself up with a tired groan, both his knees popping from being stuck in position for such a lengthy amount of time.

Once out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Leon stared at himself in the mirror; busy studying the crow's feet on both outer corners of his eyes as well as the prominent bags sitting under them, the smile line around his mouth, his now brown hair, the stubble on his face and neck that's he's neglected to shave, and just how exhausted he looked.

How has he never noticed any of this before? Why's he look so different now?

Settling into bed after this brutal realization was a tough task. The man followed his nightly routine of taking four Tylenol and two of his prescription sleep meds before setting his a/c 65 degrees Fahrenheit. He learned quickly many years ago that tossing and turning at night would make him overheat and sweat.

But tonight, nothing Leon did could ease that sinking feeling in his chest, that feeling of unfulfillmemt and shame weighing on him more than ever before.

The poor man barely slept at all last night, hangover evident by the way he was still slightly uneven on his feet as he leaned over the center island in his kitchen, head between his forearms while his hands sat clasped together.

Leon knew what he had to do. He's been feeling it ever since Chris and Claire made their departure, but it was so easy to deny. How was he suppose to give up the one thing that made him important? Sure the stress of his work was heavily tasking on the mind and body, but it's what gave him purpose. He felt useful doing what he did.

The man showed up for work late that day, barely having managed to dress himself. He didn't know exactly who to go to in this scenario, but everyone seemed surprised that the Leon Kennedy would show up for work in some ratty t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The stares were making him incredibly uncomfortable and he was quickly regretting showing up at all.

After sitting in his own office for awhile to avoid the looks and whispers, Leon eventually sauntered over to his superior's office, an almost solemn look on his face as he let himself in after knocking.

Needless to say, Leon was relieved his superior knew this was coming. Slightly offended, but relieved nonetheless.

It had been a long time coming, and it was only a matter of time before Leon threw in the towel, especially since he was now just working behind the scenes instead of on the frontline.

He was allowed to return home for the rest of the day if he wanted to, which Leon quickly took. He really didn't want to be in that building for much longer.

As soon as he returned home he went right back to drinking. And as ashamed as he is to admit, he even cried a little, half empty whiskey bottle in one hand while the other was clenched tightly into a fist as he gripped the pant leg of his sweats.

There wasn't anyone Leon could talk to about this. Chris and Claire had their own respective partners to come home to after retirement, but Leon? Leon had nothing besides a dingy and cold two bedroom house with only the basics inside, including his alcohol cabinet.

The man didn't even give himself time to date, only the occasional one night stand with randoms from the bar. He was too afraid that he would endanger anyone he allowed into his life like that, not to mention he'd been betrayed one too many times to trust in someone that way again. It was his way of keeping himself and everyone else safe.

The therapists he was assigned throughout the years all had the same concern regarding his love life, and deep down Leon was just as concerned, but he rationalized it with that hero complex he developed.

But he just couldn't rationalize it anymore. Leon was alone. He was alone, sad, and afraid.

About a month after Leon's retirement was processed and announced, word spread quickly throughout numerous government branches. There was a celebration set up at the White House to honor his service as a field agent.

The President had separated him and Leon from the party to slowly walk through the many hallways in the building. The old man could tell just how bothered the now ex-agent was by his retirement, so he figured now would be the best time to talk to him about his final task.

"You know," The President spoke up after a couple minutes of the two walking in silence, prompting Leon to slowly turn his head to listen. "I'm sure you've heard it so many times tonight, but you truly were one of the best agents I've ever seen."

Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit at the compliment. He had heard it a lot tonight, but obviously it was different coming from him.

"I'm serious. This county, probably the entire world, would've been in shambles if not for your hours spent." The President continued, slowing his walking to a stop.

"It means more than you know." Leon responded simply, voice a bit gravelly from the few drinks he's had. He took a couple steps more before stopping as well, turning around to face the prominent old man.

The President sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile while nodding. They stood in silence for a brief moment before the old man spoke up again, pointing lazily down the hall. "Follow me, I've got something I want to show you."

From there, the two wandered further down the halls until eventually reaching one hall that had lights more centered towards the walls, highlighting the picture frames that sat evenly spaced out amongst them.

Leon seemed a tad confused until he was able to focus on the first painting they walked by. He knew each president got a portrait painted after their full term was served, but the man in this painting wasn't a past president.

He stopped walking to stand in front of the painting, admiring the details it had before glancing down at the bottom of the elegant frame, a placard reading a name he didn't recognize. What he did recognize, though, was the word Agent that sat in front of the man's name.

While zoned into the placard, Leon didn't register the gentle hand that had been clasped on his shoulder, the President's voice breaking through his trance. "For as long as there's been bioweapons, we've had agents fighting to stop them. But only a few agents have truly outdone themselves. Agents like you."

Leon blinked a couple times before turning his head to look at the hand on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't quite understanding what he was saying.

The President took his silence as a cue to continue, his sympathetic smile turning into a happier one as he gently tugged Leon's shoulder to get him to start walking again. "The D.S.O. has produced some of the greatest agents since Benford created it back in 2011. You were amazing before, but you've outdone yourself time and time again."

Leon still wasn't quite understanding, really only half listening as he kept his eyes trained to the numerous portraits of agents as he slowly passed them.

The two stopped in front of the last painting in the hallway, only a few spots away from leading into another hallway. It was Chris and Claire in this painting. Chris was sitting down in a chair while Claire stood next to him, hand resting on back of it, both of them smiling.

He studied the painting for a minute longer before whipping his head around to face the President, who was still smiling, as the realization slowly settling in.

"I-" Leon struggling to speak, glancing back at the painting before quickly looking back at the old man standing next to him.

The President simply nodded his head, smile widening with a gentle laugh. "Right. The painting process takes a bit of time, but I think you've more than earned this."

The ex-agent had so many questions. Firstly, why hadn't Chris or Claire mentioned this? But more importantly, he gets to have his own portrait painted?

"The painter knows all about you. She's excited to meet you." The President started down the hall again, Leon not far behind, still stuttering out nonsense as he attempted to form even a sentence. "I'll give you the information you need to get started with her. I have it written down back in my office."

A painting?

A painting. A painting for him. A painting to honor him. What?

Leon was once again sat on his couch, blankly staring at the small business card with a date and time written on it in pen. He'd read the info on the card so many times already, wanting to make sure he got absolutely nothing wrong.

Apparently he didn't have to call and confirm, all he had to do was show up to this random address at a specific date and time, which was soon. In a couple days kind of soon. Also, he thought he was reading the time wrong, but no, it was four in the morning, not four in the afternoon. What an odd and rather inconvenient time.

Even after memorizing the business card front to back, Leon would be lying if he said he didn't forget about meeting up with this mystery painter. He'd been rather aloof the past couple months, it was hard to pull himself out of that funk. He'd been staying up late and sleeping in even later, so hitting snooze on his alarm a good few times was just muscle memory at this point.

It was almost 5am when he realized where he was suppose to be, eyes shooting open as he yanked himself out of bed, desperately trying to clean himself up enough to be at least presentable.

The man was mentally chastising himself the entire drive. It was a short drive, which he was surprised by, and the building seemed quaint; red brick with large windows that sat on what looked like either a second or third floor.

He parked his bike right near what he assumed was the main door, pulling off his motorcycle helmet before knocking and waiting.

The last thing Leon was expecting was you to unlock and open that door; young and pretty, so pretty...

"Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly with a small smile. He nodded, just barely noticeable, reaching a gloved hand up to wipe at his eyes as he caught himself staring.

Your smile only widened at his nod, stepping aside to allow him into walk in. It took him a minute to realize you were still talking, shaking his head out to refocus himself.

"-again, really, no need to worry about being late. I was trying to work with your schedule but I should've known it's changed up a bit by now, right?" You lead him up a set of narrow stairs, though he was mostly following the smell of your perfume. It was such a light smell but he definitely picked up on it.

You opened a door immediately to the left of the stairs, letting Leon follow you inside. The sun was just starting to rise, shining through the large windows in the open room.

The place was cluttered, yet organized. Crowded, but that just made it all the cozier to Leon. His house was bare and lacked any sort of personality, but this... this place was covered in you.

"I'm glad you like it in here." You said in a quiet voice, looking up at him as he took in your workspace. He was smiling ever so slightly, which you mimicked with a smile of your own. "I try to make it welcoming in here, my apartment is the same way.."

Your voice trailed off as you walked over to a mostly put together set up near the back of the room where the only wall without windows sat. There was a chair sitting close to the wall, the same chair Chris was sitting in for his portrait with Claire, along with your easel sitting empty a few feet away.

Leon stood frozen, only moving his head around as he took everything in. He followed you with his eyes as you fumbled around with something, eventually producing a blank 24" x 36" canvas that was still wrapped in thin plastic.

His mouth made an 'o' shape as he pulled himself from his small trance once again, beginning to slowly make his way over to the set up you've made. He placed his helmet down on the floor beside the chair.

After placing the canvas on the easel, you walked back over to where you'd gotten the canvas from before grabbing a heavily used sketchbook. It was a large one, the paper a light brown instead of white.

Leon had only just realized that there was a faint sound of some form of classical music playing from somewhere in the room, glancing around for speakers before looking back over at you.

"I'm not getting started today, we're a couple steps away from that, so don't worry about appearance just yet." You said softly with a breathy laugh, quickly making your way back over to where he stood next to the plush chair in your setup, his hand feeling over the worn maroon fabric.

Leon nodded silently, moving to sit down once you requested he did, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you drag over a small table. You worked fast, that's for sure.

Eventually, you'd set up a little tabletop easel to sit on the table you'd dragged in front of him, grabbing your swivel chair to sit in as you placed your sketchbook on the easel, open to a blank page.

"I just need to get some basic ideas of your facial structure since that's most important when it comes to these kinds of paintings. You're gonna be wearing a nice tuxedo when I do the second- no, third sketch for the final painting, but this is just for me to get a feel for you and vise versa." You rambled quickly, pulling out a pencil from one of your pockets before fully sitting down on the chair, bringing your legs up to sit criss cross.

"Uh.. Alright..." Leon responded, clearing his throat a bit. He didn't really understand what you'd said, you spoke a little too fast for his tired brain to keep up, but it seemed like whatever you were doing was necessary so he just rolled with it.

He was left a little speechless again at how you just began sketching, glancing up to his face and down to the page you were working on over and over. "...do you need me to, I don't know, pose or something?"

The way you kept looking at him was making feel a little uneasy. Granted he's never been in this sort of situation before, this whole process was very unfamiliar to him.

"No, no. You can move your head around and stuff. Get comfortable." You waved off, eyes wrinkling as you smiled at him. Leon nodded again, deciding to take the opportunity to look around your workspace again.

It really was a cozy space. Full of color and life, even the curtains you had lining the windows offered so much pattern and detail to the room. The back of the room where the two of you sat was more cluttered with less decor, but the front of the room was a whole different story with those massive floor pillows, blankets of all sorts strewn about, that big fluffy looking area rug, it was all so... homey. It was even inspiring him to decorate his own house a bit.

The sound of your pencil scribbling on paper and the faint sound of the classical music playing was all Leon could hear for awhile, eventually letting out an anxious sigh before beginning to talk. "So... a painter, huh..?"

"Oh yeah, I've been doing this since I was little. Obviously I wasn't that good back then, but I really improved after high school." You immediately responded, voice a little louder than his. Clearly the topic excites you. "If you want, I can hand you one of my other sketchbooks to look at while I do my thing over here?"

Leon patted his hands against the arms of the chair before nodding to the side, pursing his lips slightly. "Mm, sure. Let's see what ya got.."

As soon as he agreed, you stood up and shuffled over to the corner of the room where some desks sat arranged in a makeshift cubicle. You opened a drawer and pulled out a couple sketchbooks, still as raggedy as the one you were using now.

Walking back over, you carefully handed them to him, which he slowly took after meeting your eyes for a brief moment.

Once you made your way back to your chair, he placed both sketchbooks into his lap, opening up the one on top first. The man flipped through them silently as you began to sketch him out again.

You'd zoned into your work, adding just a bit of shading to your sketches to help emphasis some features when Leon cleared his throat again. You leaned to the side to look at him, your smile quickly returning when you saw his baffled expression.

"These are... wow, okay, how old are you?" Leon asked, head jerking upwards to meet your gaze once more. You just giggled in response, using the pencil as a fidget before returning to sketching.

"Sorry-uh, I don't mean to come off as rude or anything, but to be honest, I was expecting you to be some old lady when I saw the portraits you've done." Leon was quick to try and explain, probably misinterpreting your lack of response for unease.

Your giggle turned to a small laugh, leaning to the side once more to look at the man. "Well, I'm glad I could surprise you a bit. Hopefully I don't look old."

Leon groaned and wiped his hand down his face. "Again, sorry. Didn't mean to imply." He shook his head and looked back down at the two sketchbooks sitting in his lap, continuing to flip through them.

It was only a couple hours until you decided you got a good enough feel for drawing his face. Grabbing the sketchbook, you stood up, pencil still in hand, looking down at the sketches you made as you slowly walked over to him.

The man noticed you standing up, quickly moving to close the sketchbooks you'd given him in favor of seeing your new sketches.

"I... I think this'll be enough today. I don't want to keep you too long." You said, handing him the sketchbook. Leon took it from you, careful not to smudge anything as he finally got to see what you've been doing for the past two hours.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the sketches you'd made of his face, seeing all the different angles, even the smile, how'd you get his smile?

You seemed to grow nervous the longer he stared at your sketchbook in silence, his intense look making it seem as if he didn't really like them. "Are they... Are they okay?"

Leon jostled the sketchbook a bit in his hands before standing up, now towering over you as he kept his eyes on the paper. "Just okay? These are beyond amazing."

You let out a small breath you didn't notice you were holding, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smiled at his compliment. "Oh, thank you.. I'm sorry, normally sketches don't take this long but it was stressed to me that your portrait was very important so I wanted to get everything as perfect as I could.."

"Seriously, you're a mad woman if you think these wouldn't be good." Leon chuckled, handing the sketchbook back to you. He kept his eyes trained on you, even after you turned to look down and close the sketchbook. Only a fool would miss that blush on your cheeks, it looked good on you.

"Anyways, when should I come back for the next.. uh..." Leon paused, crossing his arms loosely as he struggled to think of the word.

Luckily, you finished the sentence for him. "Session. Again, this painting's importance was stressed to me a lot, so probably the next time you're available?" You talked while you shifted the small table back to where it had originally sat under one of the numerous windows, tossing the sketchbook down on the chair cushion.

"Alright, since it's importance has now been stressed to me as well, I can probably clear up some stuff in my schedule. How's tomorrow sound?" Obviously, Leon had a completely free schedule, but you didn't need to know that.

"Tomorrow works great! The sooner the better!" You laughed, placing a gentle hand on his bicep as you walked past him to grab a sticky note. "I'll give you my personal number, just let me know when you're thinking of coming over and I'll meet you here, okay?"

Leon looked at your number before pocketing the note, nodding his head with a smile of his own. "Sounds good. Same way out?" He pointed to the door that you brought him in through, bending down to pick up his motorcycle helmet right after.

You confirmed with a thumbs up, now drinking water from your water bottle as you'd forgotten too while focused on drawing. You felt bad for not offering him any water while he was here, but you won't forget next time.

The man gave you a curt wave before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.

You had to admit, you've worked with a very small handful of agents since it takes a lot for them to earn their own portrait, but Leon Kennedy had to be the one of the most handsome men you've ever worked with. Maybe even one of the most handsome men you've ever seen.

Lucky you pay attention to detail, cause you definitely didn't see a ring on his finger.

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zer0pm · 1 year

Text

Imagine Luis using the communicator to call you. Constantly.

“Luis? What’s your status?”

“No bueno, my friend. I’m in a lot of pain.”

Your head immediately snaps up at attention to these words. Leon, who answered the call as the device was on his person, shares your look of alarm and nods in understanding to prepare to come to the Spaniard’s aid.

“Where are you?” Leon inquires, maneuvering the communicator between you two so that you can listen in as well. “How serious are your injuries?”

The man on the other line groans, “I’d say pretty serious. Severe, even.”

Filled with worry, you were about to join the line of questioning until his voice cuts you off before you could utter a sound.

“After all… how does one recover from a lonely heart?”

Leon squints, “…What?”

“I am separated from my light- mi luz! Forced to wander these terrifying, dark corridors alone without any source of warmth and comfort!” In the tiny screen, you can see the man waving his arms around with an exaggerated pout on his face. He looked like he was rehearsing a scene of a play or something. Luis notices your face on his end and smiles widely before releasing an over-the-top gasp and calling you by name. “¿Dónde estás, mi luz? I am suffering without you.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, doing your best to choke down the laugh that was threatening to erupt from your chest. Before reuniting with Leon S. Kennedy, your partner in the mission to retrieve Ashley Graham, you were running around the village with Luis Serra, a man you happened to come across while fighting hordes of infected villagers. Initially, you were suspicious of him, but he proved himself to be a man of good character, chivalrously watching your back and using his intimate knowledge of the area and the terrors that creep within to navigate you both through multiple dangerous encounters.

You and he became close quickly, forging a strong bond during your time together, made easy with the man’s charisma and light-hearted nature. Even in the constant face of danger, Luis would twist the dark ambiance to his playful tune, often making you the muse of his antics if not for the sole purpose to tease a smile upon your face. So what he was doing now was not at all surprising, but the confused and incredulous look upon Leon’s face was priceless.

Just as you were going to point out that it hasn’t at all been that long since you two have separated ways so that you can help Leon relocate Ashley, the blond agent beside you drops the call with a push of a button. He then throws an inquisitive glare your way.

“What?” you ask.

“Do I dare even ask what the hell that was?” Leon shoots back.

You ponder his question for a moment before answering, “Honestly, it’d save you the headache if you didn’t.”

With that, Leon drops the conversation with a sigh before taking the lead to move on. Little did you both know, it wouldn’t be the last time Luis would call.

The second time he calls, he asks how you and Leon were progressing. And just like the first time, Leon answers, reporting that you were busy cracking at a difficult door puzzle while he kept watch.

“Whoever designed this castle was a real asshole,” the agent comments.

“Agreed,” you sigh. “And whoever took the time to reset these puzzles is an even bigger asshole.”

Luis’ voice chimes in through the static. “Perhaps I can be of some assistance? I am a brilliant man, afterall. Let me have a look, por favor.”

Thinking nothing of it, Leon walks over and faces the screen of the comm to you and the door so that Luis can see what you are working on from behind before you reset the puzzle. You then explain how you got stuck and your theories on what the possible solutions could be. While doing so, Luis hums after each pause, his face showing that of absolute concentration. After you finished and a moment of considerable silence passes, you engage him.

“Well?” you ask. “Any thoughts?”

Luis lifts his hand from his stubbled chin, “Just one.” He points at you, his voice lowers to a husky growl.

“You look particularly ravishing from this angle.”

You were grateful that Leon hung up before Luis can see the blush burning hot on your cheeks. After some time, you managed to solve the puzzle and proceed with the mission although Leon was none too happy with the Spanish man for wasting both of your times.

The third time the communication device goes off, you offer to take it from Leon.

“It’s probably him again. Why don’t I handle this one?”

“No,” he denies, shaking his head. “I still don’t trust him and you don’t need the distraction.”

Instead of being offended at your partner practically casting your professionalism into doubt, you reason with him. “C’mon, Leon. It could be serious this time.”

“Highly doubt it.”

However, more time passes and the device is still beeping. The sound echoes off the walls in taunting pings to the gnawing point where it was practically imprinted into your brains. When Leon couldn’t handle it anymore, he sighs in defeat and pushes the button. Again, he doesn’t hand it to you and greets the dark-haired man himself with an irritated frown.

“This better be good.”

“Depends on your definition of “good”, mi compadre.” Luis too wore a grimace, his voice void of his usual humor. “I’ve relocated one of my hidden caches and uncovered the suppressants you will both need to slow the growth of the plaga within your bodies.”

“Well, damn. That sounds like great news to me.” A wave of relief washes over Leon’s face, probably because Luis finally shared something worthwhile. “So what’s the catch, then?”

“Catch is- there are two different kinds of doses. One dose is a simple needle injection. That will be for you, Leon. Pero, the other…” he trails off, eyes casted with a faraway look while the adam’s apple in his throat bobs. Whatever was on his mind seems difficult to swallow let alone speak aloud.

Curiosity evident in Leon’s expression, he prods him further. “What is it, Luis? Is the other dose dangerous to administer?”

“It can be. The application process has a high probability of being rather intensive. For both the receiver and the administrator.”

You join in, “What do you mean?”

It was only until the words left your mouth did you realize what you just waltzed into.

Upon hearing your words, Luis’ expression changes like day and night, the somber frown flipping into a mischievous smirk. “It is nothing you can’t handle, mi amor. I’m certain. Only that it requires you and I to exchange bodily fluids in-“

Never before have you seen Leon hang up so fast, his hand covering his beet red face. You couldn’t tell if it was out of embarrassment, disgust, or fury for falling for the Spaniard’s antics once again and concluded that it was all at once.

“Let’s… ugh… Let’s just keep going.”

You didn’t put up a fight at the order, fighting off your own set of emotions that stirred from Luis’ shameless teasing. However, not even five steps were taken and the walkie talkie beeps. Leon was livid.

“For fuck’s sake, what now?!”

“Catch you at a bad time, Leon?” A deadpan feminine voice comes through the comms and you swear Leon turned several shades paler.

Leon’s “informant” tipped you off on Ashley’s last sighting and you two wasted no time moving to catch up to her. After fighting another wave of plaga, tensions were running high. So when you two were rushing to navigate around the courtyard, the communicator goes off once more and that became the last straw for Leon. Already fuming, he waited to see the Spaniard’s face on the device before verbally popping off.

“Luis, I swear to god. If the reason you’re calling is to talk about how miserable and lonely you are or make some dumb comment on a certain someone’s assets, I am going to literally throw this walkie talkie off the ramparts,” Leon snarled, his frustration unrestrained. “So I dare you, Luis, I fucking dare you to speak. And it better be god damn important!”

For a moment there was only white noise, then a familiar thick accent finally comes through.

“… I was going to say that I can see you two across the courtyard,” the man reports candidly, “and there’s a swarm of monsters coming in at your three o’clock.”

Sure enough, a horde of giant mutated insects were zooming towards you and Leon. Amidst the countless gunshots and death cries of your enemies, you can hear your fellow agent beside you cursing colorfully to the high heavens as well as the sound of hysterical laughter further in the distance.

When it was all over, the communicator was beeping again. Leon didn’t even bother answering. Instead, he tosses the device over to you without so much as a word or making eye contact. The brief exchange almost made you laugh as you press the button and are greeted by a familiar handsome face whose grey eyes lit up instantly at the sight of you.

“I think you broke the poor man,” you say with an amused, pointed look.

The expression you see in the tiny screen was that of feigned innocent confusion. “¿Perdon? Whatever do you mean? I thought I did my due diligence in warning you two of imminent danger.”

Your ears pick up an irritated groan followed by harsh stomps moving away from your position. You can practically imagine smoke coming out of the blond’s ears as he created distance, muttering an excuse that he is going to check the perimeter. If not for your respect for the man, you would have rolled over laughing.

Shaking your head, you return your attention back to cause of your partner’s grief. “Alright. Now that’s it just the two of us. What did you really want to say to me, Luis?”

“Nada,” the Spanish man shrugs, throwing you his signature charming grin. “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

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justaz · 4 months

Text

country bumpkin merlin not knowing anything about city life and accidentally courting arthur without knowing

merlin, watching gwen give lancelot her favor: why do you do that

gwen, heart eyes at lance and not paying that much attention to the conversation: so he knows i’m rooting for him

merlin, with an Idea: ah.

gwaine, lover of chaos, pisser offer of nobles and royals alike, ultimate wingman: merlin…you have such lonely lips. shall i introduce them to mine?

merlin, unaware of the game gwaine is playing: so you can steal my breath away? i think not, scoundrel

arthur, crushing his goblet in his hand:

merlin: arthur’s been in a bad mood recently :( i should cheer him up

merlin, remembering when arthur was put out when merlin brought morgana flowers and not him: i know just the thing

merlin, bringing a bouquet of carnations, roses, and tulips and setting them on arthur’s table while he’s eating breakfast: good morning, sire

arthur, trained on flower language in hopes that one day when he was to take a queen he could woo her easily, trying not to audibly choke on his sausage as he reads merlin’s declaration of love sitting in front of him:

arthur, who recently found out about merlin’s magic and was trying to find a way to bring it up, catching him in the act and watching merlin panic to explain himself:

merlin, Freaking: and i swear to you arthur, i have only ever used it for you. my magic is yours. my life is yours. i am yours. i would never do anything to harm you. i have protected you for years and will continue to do so at your side if you’ll have me

arthur, already believing them to be courting, desperately trying to figure out if that was a proposal for marriage or not but tired of being confused and deciding fuck it: here.

merlin, taking it: i…uh…huh?

arthur, watching merlin with hawk eyes and trying to figure out what he’s thinking and feeling: it’s my mothers sigil

merlin, confused as FUCK but is focusing on the fact that arthur is handing him something of his mother rather than a death sentence: my…my lord?

arthur, realizing how scared merlin’s must be about him finding out about his magic and trying to comfort him while also proposing, killing two birds with one stone: i will always keep you at my side, merlin, so long as we both shall live. if you’ll allow me.

merlin, almost collapsing with relief and tearing up, smiling at arthur as if he had parted the storm clouds to allow sun to shine down on them in that moment: of course…of course, arthur. always and forever.

merlin, watching the castle staff rush this way and that: wow. this banquet must be incredibly important

sir leon the long suffering, day one ride or die, one of the original merthur shippers: banquet? merlin, this is for your wedding

merlin, overworked and exhausted: my WHAT? to WHO??

leon, regretting everything he’s ever done in his life that led him to this moment: to…arthur?

merlin, over joyed but also absolutely befuddled: i’m getting married to ARTHUR?????

leon: you two have been courting for the past year or so, have you not?

merlin: i’ve been COURTING ARTHUR?????? FOR A YEAR?????????

#merthur #i spent like an hour researching medieval courting rituals to make this #and even then #i did not find much #so if there’s someone out there who is like weirdly knowledgeable about 6th century courting rituals #feel free to add on #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #sir gwaine #sir leon #sir lancelot #guinevere #i literally started this post bc i was thinking about the misunderstanding between merlin and gwen and merlin’s giving arthur his favor #and then i kept going #but i didn’t have much else in the ole noggin to write #i’m sorry #please forgive me

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navstuffs · 1 year

Text

Emptiness

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: You are dead, and Leon wonders why he is still alive.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, long one-shot, leon is suicidial, suicide attempt!!, leon is depressive, MAJOR ANGST, abuse of alcohol, some usage of y/n, cigarettes/smoking, leon is a mess, SAD SAD SAD!!!, leon is suffering a lot, lots of pain, NO HAPPINESS!, dates in italic count since reader's death

Author's Note: idk, except i am sorry i like to make the characters i love suffer and share that on the internet? i made my husband read this, and he doesn't care about leon whatsoever, and he ended up upset for him at the end so you can imagine how this goes. i have more happy leon's fanfics, you can check it out here!

PLEASE, PROCEED CAREFULLY, AS THIS FANFIC DESCRIBES SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, DEPRESSION, AND ALCOHOLISM.

If you have been struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, you are NOT alone! Here is a link for tumblr support for some helpful information, depending in what country you are! Seek help, you are loved, you are strong, you are wanted!

3 months, 27 days, 3 hours, 5 minutes

The first thing Leon notices when he wakes up is that he is cold. He isn't wearing a shirt, and for some reason, the blankets covering his body look dirty with some unknown substance. He groans, throwing the blanket on the floor. He still wears the jeans from last night, has no shirt on, and doesn't smell well.

The second thing he hears is his phone's ringtone. It had to be Chris. Or Claire wondering if he is alive. He sits up, his hand rubbing his face as a way to make the headache less.

The third thing Leon notices is his hand resting in the empty space of the bed. Your empty space on the bed. He gulps because he hasn't touched that part since returning to the house. He raises his hand as if Leon contaminated the area, the last pieces he had of you.

Leon glimpses under your pillow a very familiar black shirt. One of the ones he gave to you. Leon doesn't remember grabbing it last night. He holds it, checking if he got dirty, but the shirt seems clean. Leon takes the shirt to his nose, smelling it.

His phone rings a second time breaking his trance. He gets up from the bed and sighs when he sees the nightstands filled with beer cans. You would have hated that.

When he finally finds his phone on the bathroom floor, Leon's headache worsens when he sees Chris's name.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck Leon, I was on my way to your house right now. You scared me, man."

"What do you want?" Leon isn't in the mood to talk, especially with Chris.

"Claire told me she went by your house last night, and you weren't there. She says the motorcycle wasn't there. Have you been drinking and driving again?"

Leon rolls his eyes. As if drinking and driving was a big problem for him now.

"Okay, mom, if that is all, then."

"Look," Chris sighs, and there is a long pause before he speaks again. "There is a mission. If you are still interested."

Finally, Leon thinks. He has been begging for one for weeks now, and Chris has always said "no," "next time," or "we shall see" due to his mental health situation.

"Yeah. When?"

"I will send you more details when I have it. Look, Leon, I just don't think you should—"

Leon hangs up without letting Chris finish. He scrolls through his lost calls, mostly all of them being from Chris and Claire. A few from Jill when she was trying to help. It got too much for her as well. Leon scrolls down even longer, finally finding your name.

Almost four months ago. Has it been that long? Two last calls.

As a ritual he repeats every morning, Leon clicks on your name, hearing the call go straight to voice mail. Precisely as he wanted.

Hi, this is Y/N, you tried to reach me, but I can't take your call now! Leave me a voice message, and I will contact you as soon as possible!

Beep.

-x-

4 months

Jill Valentine is sitting in front of Leon inside the jet. She hasn't looked at him once inside the plane as they are being taken to a contamination site. Her eyes are distant, her form is tense, and Leon maybe thinks that time can't cure it all.

"Preparing to land," They hear in their radio communications. Leon rechecks his gun, wondering without significant interest if any of that would ever end. When he looks up, Jill is observing him.

"You ready for this?" She asks with a mild tone of curiosity in her voice.

You knew Jill longer than you knew Leon, actually. You were her best friend before becoming his lover. Jill had given Leon all the solemn talk of "Don't fuck up with my best friend, or I will kill you." After your passing, Jill had become somewhat like a ghost in his life. She tried, Leon wonders, if not for you, to give him support in the first two weeks, but Leon knew deep down she blamed him.

And she was right.

"Yeah," He answers.

Jill nods. The last time she had seen Leon, he was miserable. With the longest beard Leon has ever had, bloodshot eyes, hair a mess, drunk, and the smell of cigarettes around the house. She told herself she would try for you, but it wasn't easy to see Leon like that. And after she said you would hate it if he smoked inside their house and Leon grunted that you were dead and never coming back, she left without looking twice.

She never understood why Chris and Claire continued. Maybe because they knew him longer than they knew you.

The plane finally lands in a safe space, and they exit. It is in an abandoned industrial area this time, and they might have survivors who live nearby and might need help.

"Do not fuck this up," Jill warns.

"I won't."

-x-

1 month, 1 week, 2 days, and 5 hours

Claire Redfield is knocking on Leon's door. It is way past dinner time, but she brings pizza. From your favorite place. Claire knows he won't have eaten anything since Chris kept telling her Leon is losing weight. Since your death, Claire has tried to help Leon out as much as she could because she knows that is what you would have wanted, to no avail.

"Come on, Leon, I have pizza! I know you haven't eaten today!" She announces.

That's when her sixth sense starts beeping. All house lights are off, which is strange: Leon either left the TV or any light on. Leon didn't like the darkness. Claire tries to open the door but is locked. Leon never locked the door since he was back for this house. With her heart racing, Claire goes to her bag and grabs the reserve key. She shares one with Chris, and they both trade every week. Leon doesn't seem to care, not that he cares about many things lately.

She enters the apartment to complete silence. No sight of him anywhere.

"Leon?" Her voice is distant, as her hands are looking for her gun. Maybe someone invaded and got him? Perhaps something else—?

The air escapes from Claire's lungs when she sees Leon. Hanging from the ceiling.

"Leon!" She screams, running fast to hold his legs. She doesn't know what she is doing, she is calling for help, she is trying to get a chair, she is trying to hold his legs up so he can breathe. Claire doesn't dare to look up.

With one sudden decision, Claire gets her gun and shoots three times at the rope. Leon's body drops, and he is pale as a ghost. She kneels near him, feeling his pulse. There is still one, very light, but there is one.

Without thinking twice, Claire starts CPR, Stayin' Live by Bee Gees, in her head. She knows Leon will hate her for this, but she can't fail this. She would have hated herself, you would have hated her.

"Come on, Leon, come on." She begs desperately as she compresses his chest with all her strength. When Leon finally breathes, a small vigorous one, Claire is sweating on her clothes. She sighs, relieved, sitting down on the floor, drained.

She grabs her bag and finds her phone to call the emergency number, asking for an ambulance. That her friend attempted suicide. She gives them Leon's address, checking for his breathing. When Leon opens his eyes, he is confused. The last thing he remembers is kicking the chair away, the air escaping slowly from his lungs. He looks around, finding Claire's face in his peripheral view. She seems to be crying, her hands on his chest.

His blue eyes find hers, and Leon looks with hatred in her direction for the first time that Claire doesn't recognize him. She feels tears form in the corner of her eyes, and her lips shake, but she holds them back.

"I have called an ambulance," Her voice shakes, and Leon's stare carries so much weight that she must look away.

-x-

1 month, 3 weeks, 8 hours, 2 minutes.

The hospital door opens, and Leon exits, carrying his duffel bag. After staying confined for almost two weeks, he inhales the fresh air. Those two weeks, instead of helping, just made him feel worse. Much worse. With no alcohol, no cigarettes, nothing, Leon had no way to forget. He woke up and went to sleep with your face on his mind.

Going through what he did wrong. What he could have done right.

He feels the pain sting his soul, thinking about your smile. Fuck, he needed a drink. He needed some sort of dubious mixed-up cocktail. The stronger, the better. When he looks to his left, he sees Chris Redfield standing.

Sighing, he walks toward Chris. Leon knows he won't be able to run away. Chris has a worried stare as he gets closer. To be honest, Leon thought he should have hated after what he did to Claire, but no, Redfield still manages to give him a small smile when Leon gets close.

"Hey."

"Who told you I was going to leave?"

"Mhm, the hospital? You are in my care for the next couple of weeks."

"I am going home." Leon starts to walk away from him, but Chris's arm stops him.

"No, you are not. As I said, you are in my care. And if I need to drag you to my car and make a scene in front of all those people, I will. What do you think?"

Leon hates how Chris can look like you so much regarding his care. Always to drastic measures, you both could say. Pretending to have given up, Leon holds his hands up as a sign of defeat and follows Chris to his car.

"Is...Claire okay?" Leon mutters as Chris starts the car. Leon can see Chris hold the wheel stronger than he should, but the moment passes, and Chris answers.

"She is worried sick about you. She has been...busy, that is all."

Leon knows that is a lie. He had seen Claire on one of the visitations day, and she seemed upset like she had been crying every day since she found him. Leon felt guilty Claire was finding him (he thought someone else would) and was outraged when she saved him. And he ended up lashing out at her. When Claire tried to argue during the visitations that is what you would have wanted, Leon roared that he never wanted to see her again.

To be honest, Leon is relieved. One less person for him to hurt. Chris, well, that one was hard. Leon knows he isn't giving up that easily. Especially after the last thing he said to you was that he would protect him during a mission.

"No, no, Chris, you don't understand, he bikes around without a helmet and thinks that is super cool? I mean, how old is he again? You better keep your eye on him, if I am not around. Got it?" You asked, winking in Leon's direction. He knew you were teasing him, but Chris's tone was serious when he answered.

"Loud and clear."

In the first three weeks after your death, Chris was there. He rummaged through the house, taking everything Leon could use to harm himself. Leon's guns were the first to go, Leon didn't know how he discovered the password, and honestly, he didn't care. He just woke up a day with them gone. Knives? Gone. It was like Chris was baby-proofing the house.

Leon would have lost much more weight during that time if it wasn't for Chris insisting on him eating. Or hydrate. Warning if he got too weak to take care of himself, Chris would have made sure to strap him to a bed and kept him there against his will.

"There are cigarettes in the glove's compartment," Chris says, cutting his line of thought.

Leon looks at him with suspicion before opening. Chris wasn't lying. There is even a lighter there.

"You smokin' now?" Leon asks out of curiosity.

"No. I bought those for you."

Leon lights up a cigar, opening the window. The rest of the car ride goes silent, and when they finally arrive at Chris's house, he turns off the car, sighing.

"Look, Leon. I am not very good at this, and you know it. You will stay with me as long as you want, but I can't keep you a prisoner in my house."

Leon observes him, and Chris takes the courage to finally say it.

"No one wants you dead, Leon. What happened to Y/N, it wasn't your fault. And you need therapy."

Leon gives a humorless laugh, opening the door of the car.

"You are not bad at this, Chris. You are terrible at this."

-x-

4 months, 1 day, 5 hours

Ada Wong is good at her job. She does what she is paid to do when she needs to do it. No feelings attached, except, well, when Leon Kennedy is involved. It had been like this since the events during Raccoon City.

And then, suddenly, you appeared on his side during the events in Spain. You were something else, for sure. Standing by his side, remaining strong, although that was your first mission, or so Ada heard. And facing up her, determination in your eyes. Ada found you adorable, perfect for Leon. The loyalty, in your eyes, was something she could never demonstrate.

The man in front of her now was just what once was Leon Kennedy, her..."ally" from the other side. Ada had to admit she was shocked when she first saw him, barely recognizing him. Leon had big dark bags under his eyes, not as strong as he once was. And there was...no life in his once vivid blue eyes. Nothing.

"Ada Wong. Doing something for yourself again?" Leon asks, his voice monotone.

Ada was used to his hostility, mistrust, and even anger. But not that complete apathy, a complete lack of emotions. Leon Kennedy was dead, she was confident, and he died when you did.

"You know I don't share my secrets, big boy," She says, her tone the same as always. "But we can always find common ground, as we always do."

Leon nods, and Ada tells herself she shouldn't care, she shouldn't ask. But she has never seen it like this, and this Leon frightens her.

"I have heard about Y/N. My condolences."

Leon's eyes go wide with surprise. He looks at Ada as if she has just arrived from outer space.

"Is this one of your schemes? 'Cause if it is, cut the crap, I am not in the mood."

"It is not. I heard about what happened." Is Ada Wong really showing empathy? Leon blinks, surprised, but he shakes his head. No, it has to be one of her tricks. Since when did Ada start caring about him?

"Shut up, Ada. Do not mention this ever again. We are here for a mission, nothing else, nothing more. Stop pretending you fucking care." Leon's voice is low, and Ada doesn't say anything as she watches him walk in the dark corridor before her. She has known him long enough to know when he is being serious, and she knows he is threatening her life now.

Ada sighs. The Leon Kennedy she once knew, was gone. You left a carcass behind, a damaged man for the rest of his life. Ada still remembers the last thing she said to you, before she disappeared.

"You are truly special. Take care of him."

-x-

1 minute

"Is Mr. Leon Kennedy speaking?"

Leon stops when he answers his phone to a strange voice.

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Mr. Kennedy, this is from McKenney Hospital. Could we speak with you in just a moment? Are you busy or driving?"

"No. Hospital, you say? What is going on?"

"We just need a moment of your time. Do you know Y/N L/N?"

Leon's heart starts bumping against his chest.

"Yes. What about it?"

"Y/N L/N was involved in a car crash today, sir. At this moment in time, they are doing surgery on them."

"What? No, excuse me, ma'am, this is some mistake."

The gentle voice behind the phone silences as she listens, Leon saying you weren't involved in an accident. It was impossible. You were coming to have dinner with him later, you were going to forgive him, you were going to be back together just fine. When Leon shuts up, the voice speaks again with much more compassion.

"You are tagged as their emergency contact, Mr. Kennedy. How long can you get in here—"

"I just fucking told you, lady, that is impossible, they are coming to have dinner with me, we are supposed to reconnect, and you aren't listening to me!" Leon screams the last part, punching the counter before him and making all the glass bowls in the counter jump.

The compassionate voice waits to speak again in a much more determined tone.

"Mr. Kennedy, I suggest you come to the hospital, not alone. Come with a friend. We will answer all your questions and concerns when you get here. Just don't come alone."

Leon turns off the call, pissed. How can the lady be so stupid? He told her over and over again you were on your way to his house, your house. Leon had been cooking the whole night, preparing your favorite dinner. After that, he would never let you away from him ever again. He breathes deeply now, trying to ease the tremors on his hands, when he lets his eyes wander off to the TV, a news broadcast about a terrible accident that happened. Some drunk driver caused this accident that involved a with a truck oil tank, and five people were killed. Many injuries reported.

Without thinking twice, Leon grabs his motorcycle's keys.

He doesn't know how he got in one piece in the hospital. Something inside him tells him to call Jill, Claire, Chris, or someone, anyone, but he doesn't. The hospital's entrance is chaotic, with most victims being taken there since it was the closest location.

Leon asks your name to the front receptionist, and they say they are operating you now. The lady points to the waiting room area, where Leon waits. Leon had felt fear many times in his life, but nothing compared to this. He knew you were strong. Stronger than him, actually. You were brave. You were getting out of this.

Because he didn't know how to live without you.

Leon observed families getting good and bad news for what seemed an eternity. The death toll climbed to more two people, a mom crumble in the doctor's arms due to the loss of his son and husband. Leon was praying, begging for some higher force or anything for you to live.

He would never drink again. Leon Kennedy would never let the darkness inside him win and let you go. He would never doubt himself or his ability to love. No, Leon would love you even more intensely than he already did, more than anything in his life.

Leon takes a while to get up when the doctor finally calls his name. He feels sick, his stomach is twisting. He counts nine steps until he gets to the doctor, a lady with scrubs and an indecipherable face.

"Mr. Kennedy, do you want me to take you to a more private room?"

"Tell me."

The doctor sighs, looking directly into his eyes when she says.

"We did everything we could, Mr. Kennedy. I am sorry they didn't make it."

No.

"I am sorry, Mr. Kennedy, I truly am."

No. NO! NO!

"Mr. Kennedy, please, don't, I am sorry. Can I get some help over here? Please, don't do this!"

It takes six or seven security guards to stop Leon from destroying the waiting room or even hurting someone. He is crying, he is begging, he is losing himself. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. It was unfair: not after everything he had done or everything you went through together. He always told you he needed to die first because Leon knew damn well he couldn't live without you. Leon has a hole in his chest that will never close again. He feels someone pull his sleeve up, a pinching sensation, and Leon falls into darkness.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfics #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy angst #leon x reader #leon x you #please dont hate me too much #but i had to :(#someone give reader to leon back please #i almost cried at the end of this I SWEAR

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nexysworld · 8 months

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Chapter Summary: You finally make a decision on your relationship. Unfortunately for you it will lead to untold horrors you couldn't have imagined. Pairing: Yandere!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn.

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You continued staring up at the ceiling recovering from the self-induced orgasm. Aftershocks made your legs twitch and tense, you wiggled them about to try and ease the sensation. Finally having the energy to roll over, your view changed from the ceiling to the wall, lined with your stuffed animals.

Childish maybe, but you always had a fond spot for them, never having been able to throw them away. Some were old, made of patchwork with faded colors – a reminder of your childhood. Others were newer, like the overstuffed pumpkin that Derek had won you for Halloween one year, or the small teddy bear Leon had given you, a present from one of his work trips.

Your eyes lingered on the squishy pumpkin, the memory of Derek giving it to you rushed to the forefront of your memory. It had been one of your favorite dates together, spontaneously deciding to stop by the boardwalk after dinner one evening. The scent of popcorn and cotton candy overpowered the smell of the ocean as you walked along the clackity wooden path. Halloween décor was tacked on to everything in sight, even the prizes were ghosts, pumpkins, and black cats.

“You look good like that.” He said, flashing a smile. You tugged on the brim of the cheap witch’s hat, trying to ensure the paper thin material wasn’t going to fly off in the wind. “You calling me a witch?” You gasped in mock offense. “‘Course not baby, I would never.“ He’d doubled over in laughter, spilling the soda on his favorite

band t-shirt. “Oh shit.” He shook the black fabric with one hand trying to get some of the excess liquid off. Slapping his arm playfully, you kissed his cheek. “That’s what you get for being a jerk.” “But I’m your jerk, right?” He raised a brow leaning down to return your affection for a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, you’re my jerk.”

As the two of you made your way down more of the game booths something caught your eye – a huge fat pumpkin with a little spider attached to it. The thing was easily the size of your entire body, and you really wanted it. Coming to a dead stop, you tugged on Derek’s sleeve before pointing at it. “Make it up to me, win me that!” He froze for a second, a nervous laugh exiting his mouth. “I mean I can definitely try…”

The game runner ate it up, goading Derek to play. He explained it was simple, just toss it at an angle, get the ball into the bucket and boom – prize!

The first ball bounced off the plastic basket almost hitting a child in the face. The second ball followed the course of the first one. The third one impressively flew even farther, and Derek had to run to go get it. “Again.” He said determined, though the next round didn’t fare much better. By the fourth round, you weren’t able to contain your laughter anymore, which only served to egg him on. “Come on baby, I was only kidding. I don’t need it.” “I’m going to win it, just you watch.” “If you say so.” You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “I still believe in you, the millionth time’s the charm.”

You weren’t sure how many losses he’d suffered but you knew he’d coughed up nearly $200 and had nothing to show for it. It made your heart soar a little knowing he was willing and determined to get this for you.

Lo and behold the last time was the charm, he’d still missed the first two shots, but the third one landed in the basket and stayed there. The smallest of the three bells rang out indicating a win and the game runner clapped behind the counter. “Congratulations!” He shouted with an exaggerated tone before taking his long hooked stick out to yank a prize down.

It wasn’t the gigantic pumpkin, but it was just perfect in its own right. Medium sized and plump, you squished it to your chest in a hug before capturing Derek’s lips with your own. “It's perfect.”

“Mm, no you’re perfect.” He replied smoothly, wrapping an arm around you from behind as the pair of you made your way further down towards the rides. It had been getting later into the evening, things were dying down a bit. The Ferris wheel was still running and you decided to end the night on the ride together.

The city was beautiful, sparkling likes juxtaposed against the dark buildings and streets, stars twinkling above. You could see your apartment building, and the coffee shop Derek worked at down the way. Unconsciously you snuggled closer to him in your seat, leaning your head against his shoulder. The words had slipped out of his mouth so casually you’d almost missed it, so relaxed into the moment. “What was that?” You asked softly. “I said I love you.” He replied, petting your hair. It caused your heartbeat to speed up as you registered what he’d said. The air hung heavy with the confession.

“I love you too.”

A hollow and guilty feeling erupted in your chest and made its way down to your stomach at the memory. Post nut clarity was a wild thing – and now that your head was clear everything was starting to make sense.

Derek had been right, about everything. What did it say about you that hours ago you’d fought with him about your attachment to Leon, and now here you were getting yourself off to the very guy he was worried about. ‘I’m such an asshole.’

You squeezed the pumpkin close to yourself, taking in the still faded but lingering scent of Derek’s cologne. The urge to cry caused you to curl in on yourself for a moment, but you managed to suppress the tears behind a few sniffles. A soft breath escaped you, and you placed the pumpkin back on the shelf.

Before you rolled back over you glanced next to the pumpkin at the small teddy bear Leon had gifted you. It was black, about the size of your hand. He said he’d brought it back from Spain on his last work trip – something you had been meaning to ask him about more in depth but never got the chance. It was cute, and it meant a lot to you at the time, but now it made your heart ache. ‘Should I get rid of it maybe? It’s not like Leon would know.’

You reached over to grab the small stuffed animal, looking it over, running your fingers against the soft fur. Something caught your eye, a red light in the left eye. It was a faded light, and you could only see it at certain angles. ‘What the –?’ You inspected it more closely, but nothing else was obviously amiss.

‘Maybe the eyes were supposed to light up or something.’ You shrugged, putting the tiny bear back where it belonged, deciding you didn’t have the heart to toss it, hoping Derek just wouldn’t notice its existence.

Guilty and resolved to making things right, you mulled over what you’d say to Leon, to Derek. You didn’t want to abandon your friendship, but if that’s what it would take, you weren’t going to throw your relationship away – and maybe it would be better for your friendship if you weren’t so close.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Nervousness caused you to be jittery, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stood outside his door. ‘You got this. Leon’s a good guy, he’ll understand. He’ll understand.’ You let out a deep sigh, hyping yourself up before knocking on his door.

The second your eyes met the endless blue of his, regret washed over you from head to toe. The way he leaned against the doorframe, you’d caught him after a workout again, shirtless a sheen of sweat coating his muscles. It was the first time you’d seen him completely shirtless and it was making your brain go haywire a bit.

Suddenly a palm was in your face, waving. “Hello, Earth to Ms. 306, you there?”

You were snapped back to the moment. “Sorry, I was spacing out for a moment.” “You don’t say.” He laughed, standing up straight. “Well you’re the one who knocked on my door. What’s up?” “About that. The other night with Derek I uh….” How exactly were you going to explain this? “I think it’s best if maybe you and I saw less of each other.”

Hurt washed over his features. “What? Did I do something wrong?” “No, it’s nothing like that.” “I’m just confused, the guy left you at the theater and –” “I know and that was shitty of him. He just seems to think you and I are too close, and I mean I get it. I can’t say I would be comfortable if he spent as much time with another girl as I do with you.” Averting your eyes, you stared down at your feet. “I’m sorry Leon. It’s just, I do love him and I want to try and work on things ya know? Like you’re a super awesome friend and if it were up to me I’d keep things the way they are but it makes him uncomfortable…so….”

“Of course. I understand completely.”

You swore there was a slightly strained sound to his voice, you didn’t push it though, happy that he was accepting of things. “Thank you Lee.” Like a coward, you scurried off the moment the conversation concluded.

Luckily Derek had been willing to talk things out and once you had mentioned breaking things off with Leon – if you could even call it that – his mood changed entirely. It melted your heart to see the way his face lit up, to feel his arms around you. It affirmed in the moment you had made the right decision.

Things fell back into place like nothing had been wrong – except this time around everything was so much more smooth, a love rekindled. You found yourself talking for hours every night before bed time, laughing at dumb stories, falling asleep before the call ended.

Date nights were becoming a regular occurrence again too, walks in the park, midnight movies.

All in all things were great, but there was something you just couldn’t shake from the back of your mind. Every moment with Derek, every touch, kiss, conversation – it managed to abate your guilt for him, but all you could do was linger on the fact that something was just missing.

Obviously you knew the culprit – Leon.

Somehow, despite everything, you couldn’t shake him from your mind. You missed him terribly and he managed to invade your thoughts at the worst possible moments. Kissing Derek, you’d close your eyes and wonder what it would feel like if Leon had been on the other end.

Walking through the hallway of the battered building felt lonely without the conversations you would have and the laughter that entailed. Helping Mrs. Wilson hurt the most, having to tread to the pharmacy by foot made you miss Leon’s Jeep and the moments spent together. The few times you actually did bump into Leon or catch a glimpse of him, it hurt.

“This is ridiculous.” You said to yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, sitting on your bed. Derek had just dropped you back home after a date, and again the only person on your mind wasn’t the one it should be. “He’s just my neighbor, a friend.”

Letting out a sigh, you thought about the evening with Derek. He’d actually suggested moving in together now that things were getting better between the two of you. Of course you were hesitant at first, this apartment had a lot of sentimental value and leaving it behind meant taking on a new chapter of your life – it was scary. Thinking back on everything though, you were beginning to think it was a good idea.

Everything here was reminding you of someone you can’t – shouldn’t have. Leon had been too meshed within your daily routine, and you figured a change of scenery could help with that. You could still check in with Mrs. Wilson, but not have to be reminded of him every single day.

Resolved to your decision, you texted Derek to let him know. Not knowing why, you had the urge to tell Leon. You didn’t technically have to, and you knew that it wasn’t like you owed him an explanation – it just felt like the right thing to do.

Still too much of a coward to face him or call, you opted to text him instead.

‘Long time no talk. Hope ur well. :) ’

Locking the screen, you set the phone down on the nightstand, surprised when less than a minute later it buzzed with a reply.

‘Just dandy! :) U doin ok?’

‘Yeah!’

‘U sure? not like u to txt out of nowhere.’

‘just had some news i dunno.’

‘news? hope its good lol’

‘i think so… Derek asked me to move in with him.’

The three bubbles to indicate he was typing popped up for a mysteriously long amount of time, making you anxious. Finally they stopped, and you waited – nothing. Thirty minutes passed by before you finally received a response.

‘thats awesome! 👍’

Not sure how to reply, you simply didn’t. The expectation of relief after breaking the news didn’t come, but you pushed it aside. ‘Things are changing. You’ll be just fine once you’re out of here.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you saw Derek was about three days later – the two of you had a camping trip date planned for the weekend. With your duffel bag packed, you took the opportunity to walk to his apartment, wanting to surprise him that morning.

The weather was perfectly temperate and it felt nice to have fresh air and sun on your skin, without freezing to death or sweating bullets. The sounds of the city set you at ease, familiar shops and people passing you by as you made your way.

The only odd thing was Derek hadn’t replied to your text. It was just a simple ‘Good Morning’ but it wasn’t like him to not respond. Thinking he was likely just busy getting ready or slept in late, you shrugged it off. This trip was the start of something new – plans to move upon returning – and you weren’t about to let anything stop you from making it positive. Even any thought of Leon was temporarily pushed to the back of your mind.

His apartment building was a lot nicer, and in a better part of the city. The ivory building came into view and you all but ran from the outside staircase up to the second floor where his home was. Sliding the spare key into the knob, you knew something was wrong immediately – the lights were off and the whole place just felt stale.

“Der?” You called out, flipping the living room light on. “You here?” No response came, you looked out the window to the parking lot and sure enough his car was there – no camping gear on top though.

Making your way further inside the apartment, you looked around for any sign of him. His keys were tossed on the stained coffee table where they always were. His shoes were by the front door. There was no immediate sign of exit or entry.

His bedroom door was closed though, something you knew was unusual – he always left it open even at bed time.

“Der?” You called again, gently cracking the door open. The room was dark, curtains drawn and no artificial light to be found. Your eyes had to adjust for a moment before you saw the lump of human form underneath the bed sheets, comforter having been discarded onto the floor. “Baby?” You gently shook him, turning the nightstand light on to the lowest setting. The sheets were moist and sweat soaked, his brows were knitted together in his unconscious state – like a nightmare. It took a few more forceful movements before he finally stirred, shooting up in the bed. “What the fuck!? Oh…oh my god baby I’m sorry. You scared the shit out of me.” He brought his hand over his heart as he caught his breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I wanted to surprise you but when I came in everything seemed off. Are you alright?” “Yeah, I just wasn’t feeling well. Guess I slept in.” “You’re soaking with sweat, are you sure you’re ok to go? We can just stay in if you’re not well.” “No baby, I’m fine. I promise.” He gave you a weak smile before kissing your cheek. “Just let me take a quick shower and pack up.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I can start carrying the gear down to the car.” He did not look okay at all. His eyes seemed more sunken than usual, skin pale and clammy. Something beyond that just felt off - but he continued to insist everything was fine.

“Maybe just stop by urgent care real quick. I mean if you are sick maybe they could give you something for it that you can take on the trip?” “Baby, we’re halfway to the campsite. All I need is some fresh air and time with my girlfriend. I told you I feel fine.” “Alright…” You had to admit the campsite he picked was beautiful. This flat plane of grassy area set atop a hill, you could see the entire valley below including the river – the mountains and the sky were along the horizon too. It was beyond breathtaking and you could only imagine the view once the sun set and the stars began to twinkle unimpeded by the city lights. The little area was surrounded by a thick layer of trees, giving you plenty of privacy.

Awestruck by it all, the thought of Derek’s condition nearly dissipated entirely from your thoughts – he seemed to be getting better anyway, easily handling stretching out the tarp, and hammering the stakes into the ground for the tent base.

“At least one of us is useful.” You teased, nearly getting tangled in the plastic and wiring of the tent. Attempting to bend one of the thin metal sticks down to loop into another section, it flung back whipping you in the face instead. “Fuck, ouch.” A nice thin slice of blood trickled down the stinging red mark on your face. You covered that side of your face with your sleeve. “Can you grab me the first aid kit?”

There was no response to your request, heavy silence ringing out into the air. “Babe?” Using your good eye you looked over to where he was working on the base, he stood staring at you. “Derek? Hello?” Something about it unsettled you in a way you couldn’t describe, like a 6th sense. “This isn’t funny.” His eyes seemed darker, and his body movement frozen as he gripped the hammer in his hand, tightly. “You’re starting to scare me!”

Snapping out of it, he shook his head before smiling, posture instantly relaxing. “What are you talking about – oh my god are you okay?” He ran over to inspect you and you noted his skin felt weird and cold against your own, not like the usual wet heat you’d experience with a fever. You weren’t sure what to make of it at all, but concern grew within you. “What was that all about?” “What are you talking about?” He replied, dabbing gently at your face with the alcohol pad. A hiss left your lips at the stinging sensation.

“You just stood there staring at me, totally spaced out.” “I don’t remember that at all.” “Derek, are you sure you’re okay? Like really okay?” “Are you going to keep asking me that this entire trip?” “No, I just….” “Look, let’s finish getting set up for the night, I promise you’ll feel better once we’re settled in.” Another quick kiss and he grabbed the part of the tent you’d been fumbling with to finish putting it together. Not wanting to be near him at the moment, you chose to take his advice, stringing up the solar-fairy lights around the trees and moving to get the campfire spot set up.

“All done?” “All done!” He said giving you a high five. “Looks great babe, the lights are really cute. I can't wait to see them tonight.” “Me either.” You replied, kissing him – the cold clammy feeling still there.

There were still a few hours left in the day before sundown, so you opted to explore along the trail for a while. Derek seemed okay initially, his breaks were paced out in a way that made sense. As the day turned to late afternoon though, his breathing seemed to be more labored, breaks became more and more frequent.

You wanted to say something badly, but knowing he’d blow you off you kept it to yourself hoping it was just a cold or something.

By early evening, he was looking rough, red veins in his eyes accentuated by deep purple bags, shivers running through him despite the air having become more humid. His bouts of spacing out became more frequent too – randomly staring off into space nodding as if he was in agreement with some invisible thing.

The worst was when he’d disappeared for 30 minutes on a piss break. You’d found him face first against the tree, urine on his shoes, cock still in hand. Even the sound of your voice didn’t stir him from the spot – nor did shaking his shoulder.

It was another 5 minutes before he snapped out of it this time, smiling at you? “How’s your eye feeling?” Was all he asked as he zipped himself up.

A fear stitched itself together within you and more and more you were working on ways to get out of here – to get him some help because something was not right and it definitely wasn’t a cold. This was beyond your comprehension or ability to assist with.

As night began to shadow the area, the two of you made it back to your campsite. The lights you'd hung glistened against the backdrop of the dark woods giving you enough light to set up the fire. Insisting on it, you tucked Derek beneath a thick blanket on the camping chair and begged him to rest.

You considered calling 911, but the thought of all the lights and sirens worried you that it might spook the clearly ill man or provoke him. What you really needed at the moment was advice because you frankly didn’t know what to do, but you were scared.

“Here, drink this.” You said handing him the thermos of now heated soup. “Just try to rest for a bit.” You kissed his forehead. He was getting worse now, feeling like he had been dipped in an ice bath, you never knew a human could get so cold. You swear his veins were getting darker too, at least the ones around his neck – but it could’ve just been the low lighting. “I have to go to the little girl’s tree, I’ll be back.” You assured him, walking until you hoped you were out of earshot. Your phone was gripped tightly in your hand as you paced trying to figure out the best course of action. ‘Can 911 even make it out here? Do people really call 911 over a sick person?’

“Fuck, I don’t know what to do.” Unlocking your phone, you squinted, eyes adjusting to the overwhelming brightness of the screen in the dark area. “Who would?” You scrolled through your contacts list at least 5 times – only one name ringing in your head. “I mean he works for the government – not that I know what he does exactly … but maybe?”

The phone rang with a crackling sound indicating the poor connection from the wilderness – relief flooded over you as the other end of the line picked up. “Leon, thank god. I know this is wildly inappropriate given everything but I need –” Before you even finished you realized he couldn’t hear you. The staticky noise picking up, his voice echoing in and out sounding robotic. The line disconnected on it’s own and the top corner read ‘no signal.’ “Fuck!” You kicked the trunk of the tree in front of you.

“Babe?” The sound of Derek’s voice brought you back, it sounded so weak and hoarse. “I’ll be right there.” You yelled back. “Babe?” He called again. “Babe I’m scared.”

The words made you shiver, the hair on your neck raised – it sounded like Derek, but not at the same time. You still forced that feeling aside and marched back to camp, legs feeling like sand bags as you made them move against your own will.

“What’s wrong –”

You stopped just behind the tent, he was standing there facing you, the fire illuminating his skin. “Babe, I’m scared.” He repeated again, though his face held no emotion – completely expressionless. Dark black vein made spiderwebs along his skin, running from his arms up onto his face. His irises looked black, red blood vessels in both eyes popped making him look like a demon. The corners of his mouth had blood dried to them.

He coughed into his hand, more blood coming out. “Help me.” He reached a hand out towards you. Instinctively, you stepped back away from him. “Help me.” He repeated again stepping forward directly into the campfire – unphased by the flames that were licking away at his clothing, his skin. For each step he took forward, you took one back, legs shaking as silent tears spilled. A visceral fear like you’d never experience before sent shockwaves throughout your entire body.

He brought two burning hands to his head, the flames catching at his hair while he continued to stumble forward at an uneven pace. “My head. It’s splitting my head.” His voice became warbled as he spoke, like his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth. “You’re scaring me….” You managed to squeak out, barely above a whisper.

“IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!” He shouted this time, head twisting to the side the sound of his neck cracking. His features began to warp, nose pulling to the left, mouth twisting, eyes swirling as the flesh tore and split apart – the sound of wet tearing making you feel ill.

A small worm-like thing poked out of the top of his head, before it darted out, growing and growing in size. A second later his head finally tore an explosion of tentacles waving around in the air, like purple blood worms dancing above the neck of his burning body. His features, the ones you knew so well were twisted amongst the new flesh.

The now sideways mouth opened into a hiss, long tongue slithering out like a snake. Warm urine trickled down your leg against your will, fear paralyzing any movement or rational thought. There was no comprehension of what was in front of you.

Despite the flames melting the flesh of the body, it didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. A tentacle whipped itself forward, slapping against the tree above you, nearly hitting you. The slimy slapping sound was enough to get your legs moving, despite how wobbly they were.

You took off into the dark of the woods, leaves crunching beneath you. Shadows danced around your vision in the moonlight that only casted down between the canopy of the trees. The yellow light behind you mixed with the gargling and fleshy noises told you the creature was behind you in pursuit. Branches and bushes whipped your skin leaving you with cuts and welts you couldn’t feel through the adrenaline – path lost you just went as long as you could.

You saw the opening to the camp parking lot, the low streetlamps like a guiding star. “Help!” You shouted, waving an arm as you ran. “God help me!” You screamed again hoping someone would hear you. In your haze you hadn’t noticed the overgrown root curled out of the ground, it caught your ankle right before you made it to the cement of the parking lot.

Your face hit the yellow barrier of the closest spot, a crunching pop against your nose, iron infecting your sense of smell. When the stars stopped buzzing around your head, you looked down to see your ankle still caught under the root, twisted and purple – bone sticking out through the side.

The hissing sound told you the creature wasn’t far behind, the tips of the tentacles appearing just within your now hazed vision. Coughing on the blood that spilled into the back of your throat via your likely now broken nose, you tried to crawl backwards, but couldn’t the pain in your ankle too great. The creature was right above you now, drool and slime dripping down onto your face as they wriggled around. Closing your eyes to brace a loud explosion sound rung out, all parts of your face and exposed skin suddenly covered in sticky and warm liquid. Cracking an eye open, you saw the body of the creature as it hit the ground.

Looking down at yourself, you were wearing blood and teeth and other viscera that had splattered against you. Your hand shakily reached into your tank top feeling at the squishy thing that landed in your bra.

Bile worked its way out of you upon discovering the eyeball in your hand, tossing it before losing the rest of your stomach contents out onto the open ground. In too much shock and shaking, your vision went black as you slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~

Head reeling you refused to open your eyes, purposefully scrunching them shut against the invading sunlight. You felt like you’d been hit by a bus, every part of you was either sore or stung. As your brain slowly started coming to, the first thing you realized was the smell – out of place but familiar. That spicy and intense cologne – Leon?

‘But why would Leon be in your tent?’ The image of the blonde appeared in your mind making you giggle a moment. Then it occurred to you, you were fully conscious. Confused you opened one eye and then the other, wincing as they adjusted to the light.

It wasn’t your tent. It wasn’t even your apartment. You sat up as quickly as your mangled body would allow, heart rate picking up again. “Hey there, you’re finally awake.” Snapping to the door you saw him there, a look of concern on his face. “Leon?” “In the flesh.” He said softly making his way over to you, sitting on the side of the bed. “Where am I?” “In my apartment. How are you feeling?” “What happened?” “I was hoping you could tell me that. You called me frantic, when I finally found you, you were hurt and completely out of it. Had to pull some connections to make sure the hospital would even let me take you home.” “What? Where’s Derek?” “Who are you talking about sweetheart?” “Derek? My boyfriend, he and I were camping and he had a cold and then he turned into a monster and…and…” “Shhhh.” He soothed, rubbing your back. “Hey, its okay, you’re safe now there’s no monsters. You’re okay, I’m here.” He adjusted himself so he could pull you closer into him encompassing you with his warmth and frame.

The weight of his arms around you and the sound of his voice soothed you frantic mumbling as you sobbed into his chest, wetting the cotton fabric with snot and tears. He paid no mind, not letting up on the affection until it died down into sniffles and hiccups. You clung to him like a koala to a tree, desperate to feel better in some way, so overwhelmed with everything.

Sleep quickly overtook you again, sleeping into dreamless unconsciousness against his form.

As always this is inspired by @explorevenus fic Something Permanent as well as @gigabyte-flare, @girldungeon, and @lipglossanon's work. @elfven-blog was so kind as to help find the banner pics. Love them all, go check out their work.

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crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington · 9 months

Note

Is “willingly unloved” canon to the roomates au?

yes, unless it is excplicitly stated all comics/ drawings under the hashtag r canon!

it was also a bit of a character study of ethan, i wanted to draw what i think he would act like after going through something as traumatizing as re8 and re7. a lot of the times ethan getting horribly hurt (arms/legs cut off) is either passed off as a joke of "haha he lost another arm" or passed off as him being a idiot being stupid. i wanted to explore how those things would affect him and how all his past relationships did as well. both mia and chris, two people he cared for and trusted broke his trust, mia on two different occasions. (pls dont turn this into a anti mia post lol, its just straight canon im just acknowledging what she literally did. what she did affects the people in her life, and this post is about ethan. it doesnt nesscarily matter what her intentions were since the execution was still horrible so pls dont get upset at me)

in re7 he suffers the consequences of someones lie, and it repeats in re8. i feel like he would be far more reserved after re8. he cant trust anyone and he now lives with the knowledge that he and his daughter r bioweapons and there organizations out there to get him. in this AU chris is helping by trying to return ethan to a normal life but after re8 ethan would not trust chris imo. not in a way where he thinks chris will turn him into the BSAA or whatever but more like hes worried that chris is possibly hiding something important or planning something he doesnt know.

he would have major trust issues and probably would have huge difficulty with opening himself up to another connection, especially since leon is friends with chris. ethan would probably be wary due to association.

after re8 he is left with nothing. his wife lied to him again, and the man who was suppose to protect him did a horrible job at it LOL. he has rosemary and thats it. and at any moment someone could take her for being a bioweapon. he would live a life of paranoia and stress trying to give rosemary and normal life while trying to keep her safe at the same time. i feel like getting divorced with mia would be the best option for ethan. as much as they loved each other it wasnt healthy. mia wanted to forget and move on while ethan knew nothing and wanted to understand more. its unfortunate i know. in re8 ethan has a book about weapons and says, "its not paranoia if theyre really out to get you."

its honestly so tragic 😭

in a more realistic way to canon, ethan was doomed to die in that village. a life after it all, after surviving re8 would be horrible. the BSAA is corrupt so hes stuck with chris trying to hide and live a normal life. theres no where for him to go.

BUUTTTTTT... in a cutesy AU where leon and ethan r roomates he gets to heal so yayy. ethan would definetly be very hesitant to open up to leon and would probably not trust him for a long time

for now its just him and rose

#ethan winters #leon kennedy #lethan #roomate au

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angelwhisp3rs · 3 months

Text

⍣ ೋ star crossed

Pairing: RE4!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Two lovers, destined to not be together all across history

Tags: fluff; angst, a little gory (not descriptive! but tragedies happen); there is a happy ending (i'd kms if it didnt); they just suffer a lot

Notes: imagined that as i listened to a disney songs playlist, and i couldnt hold myself back. This was a little different for me, so any feedback is welcomed (pls be kind ill cry)

Rome, 456.

As the moon reached the sky, shining upon the stars, Empress Serena gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, the future of the Roman Empire: little Leo. He grew to be strong and dashing, a dignified heir to such a impotent throne.

Unfortunately, the royal life proved to be unforgiving with so many obligations, and the certainty that no matter what he did, it would never be enough.

As the empire went through a rough patch, so did his relationship with the townsfolk - whenever he believed he was doing something helpful, the critics were always the first ones to prove otherwise.

In a particular evening, an old lady in one of the poorest villages stomped into the castle, and pointed directly at Leo as he sat in his throne, sending a powerful spell on his way: “Your actions ought to be punished for all of your existence, and as long as you live, your heart shall never be free! For all eternity, like the sun and moon, your heart won't be complete!”

With the heavy words, she was escorted away from the palace, as Leo's heart felt heavy. She must be just some crazed lady.

Oh, how wrong he was.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Through his traveling and diplomatic affairs, Leo met a bright woman in Egypt. Her eyes shined like the brightest constellation in the sky, her wits were unmatched, and her body could lure even the blind. To say he fell in love was an understatement.

“On another visit?” she asked him as they met, her eyebrow arched.

“Egypt is quite successful these days. I can’t miss on opportunities” Leo answered with a knowing smirk, the back of his fingers caressing her jaw.

She looked up at him, her eyes sincere in her feelings as his touch was very welcomed “Opportunities or people?”

“I think you know the answer.” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Their shared moments would be forever marked in his mind, appreciative that he could be the man he was with her, not Rome's Emperor.

After deciding that she was the only one he ever wanted to marry, they met up in a nice flower camp, as he planned to ask for her forever on the same day.

As they reached the designated place, Leo managed to get on one knee and pour his heart out to her. When he made the important question, as she was about to answer it, raiders invaded Egypt in a surprise attack, and before she could even say “yes”, the clan leader sliced through her heart, making her fall down and soon Leo followed, throat sliced open by another member.

As life drained from their bodies, they looked at each other as they bled, their hands touching as they said their last goodbyes.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

France, 1789

Leonidas fought against the imbalance that happened between the poorest and royals. The people were tired of poverty, brought by the dumb decisions of the French Monarchy.

As he disseminated his knowledge and beliefs, a royal carriage passed through, with the Princess inside it. She and Leonidas locked their eyes, and a shiver ran through their bodies.

The monarchs always had empty eyes, but hers was so alive. She gave him a gentle passing smile - even if he was criticizing her existence, making his heart beat fast.

Whenever royal gatherings happened, Leonidas and his followers were the first ones there protesting. The only one who ever dared to meet them and talk was her. It was bad - his heart throbbed whenever she spoke, her voice acting like a sweet melody to him.

“Another one of your hate campaigns, Leonidas?” she asked, smirking, fanning her painted face with a luxurious fan.

“Just fighting for my people and myself” he answered in a dignified voice, his eyes not breaking eye contact with her.

“Just fighting? If you keep following me I might as well think your objectives involve me, but not as in a revolutionary sense” she winked, hiding her face behind the pink fan.

“Don’t even waste your time thinking about false pretenses” he smirked back, pulling her fan down as he watched her pretty features, all worthy of a Princess.

It was satirical - the biggest fighter against her family was the one who managed to catch her heart. She was usually the quickest one to brush off suitors, but the rebellion leader caught her heart, and she didn't want him to let go.

When Leonidas was finally ready to act on his feelings, the fall of the Bastille happened, and soon did the fall of the monarchy. As a punishment, all were to be beheaded in a public gathering, their heads thrown around to celebrate France’s new beginning.

As she was guided to the guillotine, her eyes locked in his as the blade sliced her, a lonely tear running on her cheeks.

Leonidas, at that moment, felt hollow and empty, wondering what he did to deserve such feeling.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Italy, 1944

The war was at its peak, causing pain and destruction anywhere it passed by. Lionel fought bravely battle after battle, trying his hardest to stay safe at least till this he'll was over.

The highlight among all that destruction was the newest nurse, hair always in carefully made curls, and lips adorned in the most lovely shades as she tended every soldier with care.

Whenever he laid on the infirmary in her care, she always spent the longest on him, sharing heartfelt comments and small jokes, hoping to bring a smile to his serious face. Also, she chose not to mention that his heartbeat was always fast with her - they were in a war after all, they had more serious matters to pay attention to.

“Although it makes me happy to see you, it pains my heart that it needs to involve your pain” she said softly, holding his hand with one of her hands as the other one cleaned his wound.

“I’m tough, if I could I would bruise myself completely to be under your care for days” Lionel answered with a whimper as she hit a soft spot.

“Don’t you ever think about that! I need you in one piece, so we ought to live our lives together, in happiness, after all this tragedy ends” she said in a hopeful tone, pressing a kiss to his skin.

“Do you promise me a nice house and delicious dinners?” he asked playfully, an endearing smile not leaving his face

“Better. I promise you a home” she answered quietly, moving away to tend another soldier's wounds.

After a German attack in a secluded village, the soldiers could only try to pray for any survivors - the attack was brutal. The houses were on the ground, some toys and furniture disorganized all over the place, a gray feeling hanging around their heads.

When the troop was ready to leave, Lionel heard a quiet sound under some rubble, calling his colleagues to check it out. Working their way to the sound, an old lady was buried underneath it, breathing with difficulty.

Lionel didn't think twice and fought to work her out of there, but when she was at his hold, it was already too late. On her last breath, she pressed a palm to his face and whispered “son… It's already late for this life, but I banish the dark hold in your destiny. After so much suffering, your hearts deserve happiness” and with that, she was gone.

Lionel cried, so tired with all the tragedy and death around him, he didn't really understand what she meant, but laid her body in respect and moved forward.

Sadly, no one could predict a blitzkrieg, and one that hit exactly where they moved, and also so near their base - their safety. Lionel was unfortunately one of the victims, the bomb hitting near his body.

The last thing he could comprehend was his body being moved as the pretty nurse moved desperately to save him, crying as she held his body and he finally let go, thinking of their home.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

USA, 2023

Leon was sore after returning from another mission - one that could be considered a suicide one, but he wasn't that lucky to finally be able to rest peacefully.

He threw his body on his couch, but soon stood up and grunted as he reminded himself that he promised to go to an art exhibition with Claire and Chris, a piece of normalcy in a word reeking with monsters and nightmares.

How Claire managed to get Chris to come to a thing like that? Only God knows, but it would be a welcomed company amongst the bullshit that the art world revolves around.

As they reached the gallery, packed with artists, critics and obnoxious people who saw art in a dot of paint, Claire looked in glee at all the art pieces as Leon and her brother played a game of “blind or high?”, where they tried to guess if the artist was blind while making the piece or just purely high on whatever drug Umbrella passed along the streets to control people.

As they looked at the pieces, Claire stopped specifically at a painting of a couple sitting on a field, a picnic towel underneath them as the sky was purple, with the sun setting down and the moon reaching up. There were some children playing in the background, but much couldn’t be said, as they were mere shadows.

Leon looked at the painting puzzled, something in the art making his heart ache and long for, but he had no idea why. While Chris just whispered a “oh, definitely high” at him, he couldn't answer. The sight felt so familiar, but so painful, that he wanted to cry. Maybe fighting monsters and almost dying everyday was finally getting him.

A lady stopped in front of that painting, and looked at Leon with a witty smile and sparkly eyes “what do you see?”

As he looked at her, it was like the world stopped. She was just an unknown woman, but something felt so familiar in her. His heart was screaming for him to hug and kiss her, and Leon didn't know if he finally went insane or he was just deprived of affection (maybe both, but he didn't want to put a lot of thought into it).

Her hair matched her face perfectly, her makeup was minimal, contrasting with the red lipstick on her inviting lips. Her clothing molded perfectly into her pretty body, and he had to hold himself back from looking at her for too long.

With a deep sigh, he truthfully told her “I'm not good with art… but I think they look like a couple in love. A family, even. Maybe enjoying a picnic on a Sunday” he answered the stranger, holding back a blush.

Claire slapped him, embarrassed “you just described the painting you idiot, she meant more profoundly!”

The lady giggled, making Leon forget how to breathe for a second. She shakes her head and adds “no, I liked his observation. It looks like a dream Sunday, in my opinion” She winked at Leon

Still fighting a blush, he teased back “Okay then, Picasso, what do you see?”

The woman took a long breath and looked at the painting again “I see pain, but also hope. It feels like broken hearts being brought together. Kinda poetic.”

Leon could only look at her and smile, as she did the same. Pain and love. Leon could understand those feelings mixed together.

As they kept talking and walking through the gallery together, they failed to see the owner of the painting, an old woman who watched them with a smirk.

She turned to her assistant and said “Isn't destiny a funny thing? I guess I have to watch closely for inspiration for my next pieces, I've never gotten the full story before.”

The assistant looked at the artist in confusion, but didn't press the matter. The only thing she could think was: “Guess all the best artists are crazy people.”

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