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lanabuckybarnes · 3 months ago

Note

Would you write a plus size reader w either bucky or steve(or both) where they are her first real relationship and she gets scared that she doesn't deserve to be with either of them and so she tries to push them away so she doesn't get hurt but instead they show her why she is their person.... like tooth rotting fluff and the filthiest smut..... if that's okay if not no worries

| All Yours, Only Yours |

18+ Minors DNI

✧Pairing✧ Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

✧Warnings✧ A lil angsty, Sharon being a big bully (like seriously you’re 50 and you’re bullying someone? ick), Name calling, Angry Buck, Crying, Bucky is a simp, Confessions, Marking, Dry humping, Oral (F), Fingering (F), Teeny bit of cum play, Dirty talk, Unprotected PinV, Praise, Petnames, My shitty writing — again very tame for me but i didnt want to go overboard. If there any more I’ve neglected to add please let me know.

✧Word Count✧ 4.3K

✧Author Note✧ I really hope you enjoy this and I've done your request justice, I honestly tried my best but idk…Anyways!!! Much love to everyone, please let me know what you think. Love ya xxx

“Still not answering?” Natasha asks from her spot in the cockpit, concern evident from the wrinkle between her brows.

“Nope” he spits his reply, reeling from the whole ordeal. He thrusts his phone into his jean pocket, sick to the back teeth of nothing but a black screen greeting him instead of your sweet little messages.

“Did you piss her off or something?” Sam tries to lighten the mood but is swiftly shut down, his hands rising in surrender at the killer glare the brunette shot his way.

“Calm down everyone, we’ll be home soon so we can figure this out” Steve, the voice of reason commands order within the small confines of the jet. He sits, a gloved hand rubbing over his friend's shoulder trying to reassure his muddled brain but to no avail.

Bucky is pissed. He’s pissed and he’s worried sick. A week he’s been gone for and he’s missing you like crazy. The only issue? You are ignoring him, straight up ghosting his brooding ass which is completely unlike you. Often on missions when Bucky clicks his phone on he’s greeted with a flurry of messages from you; photos of little birds you see on your walks, photos of alpine taken at odd angles and constant little messages that make his heart full and ready to continue his painstaking missions—none of it, just a notification from your favourite restaurant offering a discount to keep him happy.

As soon as this jet landed he was going to get to the bottom of what was going on and then he was going to cuddle you to death as punishment. Not that he’d let anyone else know that.

One Week Earlier…

Beep beep beep. Bucky’s alarm sounds at the ungodly hour of five am, his groan following. He didn't want to get out of this bed, he was too warm, his huge body wrapped around yours. Your movements spurred his own, your arm reaching over to switch off his alarm while he pushed himself into a sit, thoughts already on the mission afoot.

“Morning,” your raspy voice purrs, bringing his attention back to you. His eyes fall to your face; following the slope of your puffy cheeks up to your barely open eyes, your hues peeking through only enough to tease him. Putting his weight on his right arm he’s on top of you before you can blink, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, peppering tiny kisses along the warm skin.

“Morning princess,” he bites back his yawn, shifting so his hips slot in their spot between your plush thighs, loving the way they wrapped around his narrow waist just the way he loved. Practice truly did make perfect. His dark vibranium fingers drifted from your collarbone, over the swell of your breast until it found its favourite perch on your hips.

“So fucking pretty” he breathes, his pupils dilating to let more of you in — until you pushed him away.

“You gotta get ready Mr” you giggle, moving your foot so you could push him further away, ruining his plan B of pinning you down by your hips.

“Don’t remind me…”

His cold left hand hooks around your ankle, pushing at it until your knee hinged, bending up and out. A suspicious hardness presses against you, a wicked smile on your boyfriend’s face.

“I mean it Buck we can’t, Nat will be kicking that door down any minute” he groans at your words knowing that you are completely right. That lock had been replaced an embarrassing amount of times because of that exact situation. You hated rejecting him, knowing that he could easily put you back to sleep until midday if he wanted. After a small standoff between you both you warn him again, an arch in your brow and a growl behind his name.

“You’re such a little tease, you know that?”

You laugh, sitting up, watching him skulk around the room in nothing but his grey Calvin Kleins, “I haven’t done anything!”

“Sure you haven’t” he argues, moving over to you again, his metal fingers looping under your chin to tilt your head back to gaze up at him, “Looking so fucking sexy in the morning and I can’t fuck you stupid. That’s not teasing that’s damn near criminal.”

You groan, rolling your eyes at your pouty 106-year-old man. You inch closer to his mouth, a sickly sweet definitely not bratty smirk on your face. “Get your ass ready.”

“Fine…but only because you looked so fucking sexy ordering me around,”

“Bucky!” You shout after him, blush on your full cheeks. He only smirks over his shoulder, pushing his briefs to the floor at the entrance to the bathroom, giving you a full view of his posterior.

You get up too, knowing you had been awake too long to fall asleep again. You get ready with the shower as background noise, pulling on some workout clothes. Today you decided you’d try out the gym right here in the compound, you’d been to many different ones in the past; often polluted with the smell of days-old sweat and men reeking of testosterone, grunting and groaning at weights you could only dream of lifting.

An hour later, after waving Bucky off on his week-long mission you were in the gym.

“Hey” you smile as you pass Sharon, her blonde hair whipping as she ducks and weaves to dodger imaginary punches the bag throws out before throwing a couple of her own. She offers you a tight-lipped smile, her eyes straying from your face down your body. She takes note of your long top and shorts that settle around mid-thigh compared to her sports bra and tiny shorts — her flat stomach and sculpted legs on display.

God you wish you had just as much ventilation. Just as you go to place your earphones in your ears you hear a scoff coming from Sharon’s direction. You pay it no mind, setting the treadmill for a nice incline and pace, pressing the timer until it shone with the time you wanted.

The treadmill slowed for the cooldown. Your eyes moved from the display in front to glance over your shoulder, the gym was empty. You grab your bottle only to realise thanks to your distraction you'd finished off your water. You stop the treadmill and hop off, making a beeline for the kitchen. The walk to the kitchen from the gym wasn’t that long but with the feeling of your sweat culminating in places you didn’t want it to be it was almost torturous.

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw her,”

A gaggle of hushed laughs comes from the kitchen, stopping you. A familiar dread coils in your stomach, reminding you of when you were young, the children pointing and laughing — joking at your expense.

“she must been on that treadmill for about five minutes and she was all like huff huff” she laughs obnoxiously “Her face was like a big tomato, I almost died trying to keep myself from laughing” Sharon continues.

The group cackles again at your expense, almost doubling as Sharon makes the huffing noise again. You cling to your shirt, pulling it from sticking to your body. These women you thought were friends did just what everyone else did.

“She’s pathetic, I don’t know what Bucky sees in her” Your heart stops. That little devil on your jumps and cheers at the confirmation of what it has been telling you since the start of your relationship with Bucky. You were never enough.

“I can’t wait for him to dump her once he gets sick of her wide load.”

Tears fall on their own accord but you don't register them, too busy inside your head being suffocated by every doubt and self-conscious thought you ever had since you confessed your feelings for the super soldier. You didn't deserve Bucky and everyone thought that too.

Back at your room, freshly clean. You scrolled through your messages from Bucky. The little hearts next to his messages no longer felt genuine like he was only doing it merely to save your feelings from being hurt. You were nothing but a burden that he was forced to bear; it wouldn’t be long before like Sharon said, he got sick of the clinginess and the need for reassurance and broke up with you.

Well, you weren’t going to be a burden any longer. You wouldn’t let him break your heart first. You turned your phone off, tucking it into your bedside drawer.

—

“Bucky wait!” Sam calls from the quinjet but it goes ignored. Bucky’s face is twisted in annoyance as he takes wide, purposeful steps towards the tower doors. He was going to find you and you were going to tell him why the fuck you were ignoring him.

He ignores the shouts of his name as Nat, Steve and Sam follow him indoors, smashing the elevator button with his thumb and stepping inside. Once on your floor, he stormed like a charging bull to your room, slamming a gloved fist on your door in a poor excuse for a knock.

The loud knocking from the other end of the room had you jumping back in your seat, the slee overtaking you gone in an instant. Your heart lurched at the familiar face, worn from exhaustion and malice clear from the scrunching of his forehead and tick in his cheek muscle.

“Oh hello, where have you been?” Bucky snaps, glaring down at you as you use the door as a shield from his scrutinising eyes. Here it comes, the moment you’d prepared for all week. You don’t think you’ll go back to dating apps, too many weird me—

“You know how worried I was when you didn't answer me all week?”

Huh. “Huh?”

“‘Huh?’ Are you joking? You ghosted me, left me scared to death on a mission halfway across the globe and all you can say to me is huh!” His blue eyes glisten and you look at them closer. There was no anger there, only concern and fear culminating in swirls across his blue orbs, rearing its head in rage across Bucky’s face.

“Bucky I—” you try but you can’t find the words, each syllable sticks in your throat, balling up until it feels like you can no longer breathe. The week of bottled-up emotions spills forth at the sight of him — at the revelation that he was utterly terrified. Tears fall from your eyes before you know it, your lip wobbling as you keep trying to speak.

Bucky’s shoulders tense at the sight of tiny tears falling over your full cheeks, guilt replacing his earlier pain,

“Fuck c’mere baby” he pulls you close, bending at an almost uncomfortable angle just to hold you as close as humanly possible.

“I'm so sorry for being so annoyed but you have to see why I was so scared something had happened to you. You left me on read for an entire week and blanked my calls. That isn’t you, you know how scary that was for me?” He whispers so softly, backing you up to sit on your bed.

In his arms, surrounded by his warmth and scent the week you had fell from your mouth like alphabet soup, from the gym to Sharon to how hard it was to ignore your phone knowing that Bucky would’ve been calling you every single day but you did it to protect your own heart. Nothing was kept a secret.

“I’ll kill her,” he growls when you finish, muscles tightening even more around you.

“Buck.”

“Right…sorry, I won't kill her” He lied between his teeth, well sort of. He wouldn’t actually kill Sharon but he knew you'd be upset if he did anything to her which he was indeed planning to do but to save you any more pain for the evening, to keep that teeny tiny smile on your face he lied.

“What makes her think she has any fucking right to speak on other people’s appearance anyway?”

“She wasn't lying…” it came out in the tiniest little voice, maybe your way of silently hoping he didn't hear it and he wouldn’t have if it weren't for his super soldier ears.

Gripping onto your wrists Bucky flipped your world in an instant, the breath leaving your lungs as your back makes contact with the bed, your wrists caught on either side of your head.

“Are you lying to me doll?” He says, raising a brow at you.

“No…”

“You are! You're lying right to my face,” he argues, pressing your wrists further into the mattress below. Your eyes fall shut as his face inches closer to yours.

“Look at me princess,” he waits until you open both eyes again, looking up at him as if he strung the stars in the sky “There is not a single thing that I'd change about you and I mean that. I fell in love with you the way you are now, you aren't some bitch that gets off on making fun of others. I fell head over damn heels for you because you are you.”

His eyes sparkle with adoration, his hands running up and down your body softly. The juxtaposition of metal on one side and warmth on the other sends shivers up your spine.

“I love you,” he breathes, leaning down again till your lips graze his. A teasing smile pulled on the pink corners of his mouth, a similar glint in his eyes, “you know that right?”

“Yes,” you nod, pushing up to close the distance between your mouths but he pulls away.

“I don't think you do,”

“I do Buck I promise.”

“Well…” he began, the glint in his eyes dulling as want engulfed the colour, “let me make sure.”

Bucky takes his time. He has to knowing that you're feeling small. Slowly his lips slot with yours, ushering out sweet little sounds to replace the broken ones that still thrum fresh in his mind.

“I love you,” he says again, capturing your hitched gasp with his tongue as he pushes it past the seam of your mouth, the tip flicking against your own to entice it to mingle. Slowly but surely the tension drips from your shoulders, your arms moving from his grip to trail up over his rigid stomach and chest. They sink below the shoulder pads of his jacket, pushing it off his broad frame and onto the floor beside the bed. Your hands paw at the exposed skin on his arm, fingers squeezing, nails scraping over the corded muscle.

“All of yours…all of it.”

Each time the seal of your mouths broke you chase them, planting kisses teeming with nothing but raw desire onto kiss-bitten lips. The words that Sharon said are long gone from your mind now, replaced by the man in front of you. Everything you smell, taste, touch and see — it's all him.

The brunette slips off his glove; his warm and cold, metal hand grips your hips, pulling you up into his lap with a squeak.

“You feel that?” He grunts, moving from your mouth down your face to your neck. His lips suck and his teeth nibble, marking you, proving to anyone around that dare dispute his love for you again. With undeniable strength he grinds you down into a sizeable bulge poking from his tight jeans, he hisses at the contact, letting a hand fall to your ass with a small spank.

Your arousal seeps through your thin panties making them stick to your dainty folds; your clit buzzes at the delicious scratch the metal of his zip brings you — a gasp catching in your throat every time your neglected nub catches the pull tab.

As much as he worshiped the way you dry-humped his cock, soaking the front of his jeans. Bucky is desperate. After a week of no contact, not even a tiny emoji heart never mind a raunchy photo, he needs something — anything. And he's going to get it.

“Get on the bed” he demands, pushing at you ever so slightly. “Panties off.”

You do as you are told, fingers frantically hooking into the waistband of your underwear, rolling the material over your thick thighs until they hook around a single ankle.

“Spread those legs for me baby, lemme see that sweet little cunt.”

You hesitate for a second, your legs twitching to open but knees knocking again as you close them. Blown pupils snap onto your face his jaw clenched hard and his nostrils flared. Before you can react his calloused hands settle gently, luring you into a false sense of security.

They soothe down your thighs as his blue eyes study you. Inch by inch his dull nails tap over your beautifully wide thighs until he's back at your kneecaps. With a soft unassuming smile, bucky pushes your legs wide, a rush of oxygen leaving you as your sopping folds are exposed to the cool air of the room. He doesn't give you a chance to breathe before a warm hand smacks over your wet folds, your body jerks, an unabashed moan flying from your parted lips.

“Don't fucking deny me this” he growls, fire roaring in his eyes. “You ghosted me for a week, now you're gonna lie there all pretty and let me eat this sweet fucking cunt.”

You nod, biting your lip. At the first presence of him between your legs, his hot breath billowing over your labia, your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Over each fold, ridge and crevice his breath fans, a shiver rolling over your spine each time; without warning he lays his tongue flat and wide, licking a strip from hole to clit. His tongue disappears and he does it again, guttural sounds falling from him at your taste mixing with the sharp trills you let out.

“Sing for me baby, let me know how good I'm making that pretty pussy feel” He delves in like a man starved, devouring your cunt as though it were his first and last ever meal on earth. He'd die happily if it were.

You were a mess, a mess of pleading cries. Your legs shake against his powerful hold, your hands grip his unruly brunette locks. Letting his hands drop from your thighs he stops his slurping to lay a soft, sweet peck on your raw clit. He smiles up at you, his face glistening with your juices visible thanks to the city lights peeking in through your open windows. Your mind wandered, wondering if the people in the building across could see the way Bucky fucked his tongue into you, curling the long muscle up to press against that ridged spot on your upper walls — he hit it with ease every time.

Using your distraction as an advantage bucky moves a hand to join his mouth, sliding his fingers in alongside his tongue for a second before he pulls his tongue from you. He moves, looming over you with a massive shit-eating grin at how much he unravelled you. you should've been embarrassed at how wet his face was; slick ran from his stubbled upper lip over and below his chin. You had done that to him and he wore it proudly. His fingers push deeper and curl out, coaxing the coils in your stomach to snap.

“Come on baby I know you feel it” he speeds up, the sound of your messy pussy almost as loud as your harsh breaths and whimpers.

“Buckyyy” you squeal, gripping at anything you can.

“That's it, baby…you're squeezing around my fingers, are you gonna cum?”

You nod but it's not enough for your man. He dips, nipping at a pebbled nipple and that's all it takes for those tightly coiled ropes to pull taut and snap. A sound you've never heard from yourself erupts from your lungs, your fingers clutching at bucky, the sheets, anything. Stars peppered your vision, blocking out the smug image of your boyfriend, blood rushing in your ears muffling his words of praise.

“Come back to me baby, that's it, good girl. such a good girl” Bucky coos, his fingers slipping out to rub lazily at your clit. He keeps going until you jerk harshly in his hold.

“You did so well, such a good fucking girl cumming like that for me” He praises, kissing your cheek and then your mouth, a smirk pulling at his lips when you moan at your taste.

You flash him a big dopey smile in return, your eyes hazy and your plump little cheeks flushed. You look gorgeous; Bucky had seen many things in his long drawn-out life but nothing could ever compare to how you looked fucked out beneath him.

He would stay like this forever…if his cock wasn't aching for release.

He stands, fiddling with his belt and fly until it comes loose. He wastes no time in pushing them both past his round ass and onto the floor, his cock springing free. His shirt goes next, thrown somewhere in your small room letting you get the full experience of what Bucky had to offer you. Layers of corded muscle ripple beneath his silky but scarred skin, his chest peppered in tiny curly hairs that sink below his sternum and over his abs where they begin to thicken until they finish, well trimmed at the base of his thick, heavy cock.

His eyes never stray from your body as he takes himself in his hand, pumping once, twice, his thumb catching the precum leaking from his tip. He kneels back between your welcoming legs, rubbing his slick thumb over your lips. A hushed chuckle vibrates in his chest as you suck the thumb into your mouth, eagerly licking his taste from the digit.

“Such a dirty girl,” you giggle, pulling back until his thumb slips out of your mouth with a pop. “Do you think you can handle one more hm? Can you let me fuck that little hole?”

“yes Buck” you smile, your eyes falling shut as he kisses you again.

“good girl” he growls, moving your legs over his own before grabbing a pillow to squish under your hips. With one hand he pushes the head of his length through your mess, dipping into your hole before running back up over your clit. He does it a few times, occasionally slapping his cock against you, praising each tiny sound you let out.

“Please Buck” You toss your head back, grinding your hips up to meet nothing. At this rate, you were going to come to nothing more than his teasing.

“Please what?” Oh he's a piece of shit. He knows what you want because he wants it too. He waits for a beat, enjoying your huffs of frustration. “Tell me and I'll do it.”

With the last of your sanity, you cry out, “fuck me buck ple—ah”

You slap a hand over your mouth as he spears into you, stretching you like he does time and time again. It never gets any easier with a size like Bucky’s; his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust and your walls sing at the almost painful stretch.

Bucky’s thrusts are delightfully slow, letting you feel each drag and push, each rigid vein on his pulsing cock. There is no fucking involved, he's making love, making sure you know that he would spend eternity wrapped up in your body no matter what size you are. The deep coloured marks along your neck and between your thighs would attest to that.

“Fuck” he moans, mouth gaping. “Don't think ill last long princess” His vibranium fingers fall to your soft belly, skating over the smooth skin to your full hip.

He squeezes hard enough to leave marks, “fucking mine.”

His thrusts speed up, his head snapping back and eyes rolling. His balls bounce rhythmically against your ass, the bulbous head of his cock smashing into the end of your cunt where a dull ache forms — a warning of future hurt when you wake tomorrow. You don't care, not when his free hand dips between you both, pulling back the hood of your sensitive nub and flicking it over and over.

He feels the way you tighten around him, holding him in a vice grip, “hold it princess, just a little longer come on”

“I can't Bucky please” you whimper in response.

“Yes, you can baby—oh fuck I'm close” his weight falls atop yours, smothering you in him. His hips stutter, his balls pulling up towards his body.

“Cum now, soak my big fucking dick.”

The slamming of the headboard ceases when his thrusts slow to shallow grinding, his mouth swallows any sounds you let out.

“Such a good fucking girl for me—shit” he sighs, slips from you with a hiss.

“Buck—”

“Shh pretty girl you're alright” he holds you close for a while, holding you tight to his broad body. Tears fall from your cheeks but he swipes them away. You don't know why you ever doubted Bucky, he's the only constant in your life.

“I love you” He whispers as the blood rushing in your ears settles, running through your veins in exhaustion.

“I love you too”

“Don't you ever listen to those idiots again, because I will show you over and over what you mean to me” Bucky promises with a kiss on the crown of your head.

You smile, laying your own lazy kiss over your thumping heart. You like the sound of that.

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes and Asks are always appreciated, however if you like this fic please consider reblogging to help it reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what I read and give me motivation to write more.

Thanks for reading~

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yaeggravate · 1 month ago

Text

Is Capitano Anfortas Alberich?

Hiii, I have been losing my mind over this for months, and I needed to share my findings all in one place.

This might get debunked in a few weeks but until then there is actually a very high chance Capitano is Anfortas. …And not just because his constellation is a giant arrow pointing straight at him.

WARNING: This contains spoilers for the World Quest Shadows of the Mountains.

UPDATE (5.1): WE WON 🎉🥳

As a refresher, Anfortas was the Knight Marshal of the Schwanenritter (German for Swan Knights), a Khaenri'ahn warrior band who went on to protect Sumeru from the onslaught of the "Dark Beasts" during the Cataclysm. The giant Ruin Golems scattered in the forest and desert of Sumeru were piloted by them.

Barely-Legible Bulletin In view of King Irmin's present indisposed state and the current unknown threats facing the Kingdom……Knight Marshal Anfortas has proclaimed that he will temporarily take up the post of Regent and lead the Regnum Concilium Ultimum until the Kingdom returns to a state of normalcy…

At some point, King Irmin became indisposed (unable to rule), which made Anfortas step in as a temporary regent until the Kingdom returned to a state of normalcy. (Didn't age well.)

Mysterious Box in a Secret Compartment: The writings are as follows: "Remember always that it was the Alberich Clan, who did not have royal blood, who stepped in as regents when the strength of the one-eyed king Irmin failed."

This is further confirmed in Kaeya's secret notes from the Hidden Strife event which implies Anfortas is part of the Alberich clan.

Later, Anfortas was betrayed by his comrade Hadura. He fought and executed them, losing his left eye in the process. With Hadura, the last of his comrades, gone, the Schwanenritter are no more.

The ultimate fate of Anfortas is currently unknown as is his exact relation to Kaeya and Chlothar. Whether or not Anfortas is Kaeya's father/uncle/grandfather/secret older brother is not the point of this post.

This is specifically about the connection between Capitano and Anfortas.

I will start by listing the reasons why he could be Capitano and then consider the reasons why he's not.

THE THREE NAILS

Capitano's constellation is likely the three nails which is a reference to the crucifixion of Jesus.

Triclavianism is the belief that three nails were used to crucify Jesus Christ.

I do believe it belongs to Capitano, since he said he would pick up the mantle of "salvation" and is in the nation where people can be resurrected. …Needless to say, we can assume there's not going to be 50 plot twists behind this.

The three nails symbolize salvation and redemption, as well as the suffering of Jesus. You can also think of it as a symbol of martyrdom.

Anfortas is named after the Fisher King from Arthurian legends, who guarded the Holy Grail. The Fisher King was cursed by an incurable wound, stuck between life and death, doomed to suffer for eternity. There are several versions of the legend, with differing names for the Fisher King, "Anfortas" being one of them.

As it happens, the Fisher King is likened to Jesus on the cross quite prominently, both in art and on stage.

Carman explores the use of Christian symbolism in Perlesvaus. He connects the Fisher King with Christ himself, noting his name, Messios, his function as a sufferer, and his death symbolizing the Crucifixion.

In the version of Wagner, he even gets stabbed by the Holy Spear in the same side as Jesus while he was crucified!

Parzival became the primary source for Richard Wagner's 1882 opera Parsifal, in which the Fisher King is wounded by the spear that pierced Jesus's side.

As if that wasn't enough, one of Anfortas' knights left a note inside a Ruin Golem. They state they don't know whether they will be seen as sinners or heroes but believe Anfortas will find a way to save them.

An Abandoned Letter ...I often think lately about how future generations will tell my story. Will I be a sinner? Or a hero......The situation here is dire, but I believe that our Marshal will find a way. I believe... We once fought bravely here, doing our best to prevent this inglorious war. I believe that when it is all over... we shall recover our past splendor...Glory evermore... to Khaenri'ah...

This thematically fits the three nails. Unfortunately for this knight, Anfortas was unable to save Khaenri'ah and their people were condemned as "sinners" throughout history.

At the time of writing, Capitano says something curious in the trailer for 5.1:

Humanity's survival is worth any price If I could go back I would do whatever it took to ensure their survival. You've experienced something similar, Mavuika. You should know exactly what I mean.

Though we don't know the full context yet, this is not a surprising revelation if Capitano is Anfortas; he lost his homeland Khaenri'ah, "the pride of humankind," after all. Furthermore, he compares his suffering to that of the Pyro Archon, the ruler of Natlan. Anfortas was also briefly responsible for the survival of a nation, acting as the KING regent of Khaenri'ah.

Another incredible parallel to the Three Nails can be found in the influential poem The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot which is about the Fisher King.

The Man with Three Staves (an authentic member of the Tarot pack) I associate, quite arbitrarily, with the Fisher King himself.

In the poem Eliot associates the Fisher King with the tarot card the Three Staves.

(The Three of Wands/Staves in Thoth and Rider Waite decks.)

The poem is actually important enough to be referenced in the game a bunch of times. If you recall, in the Veluriyam Mirage event, we ran into three brothers, two of which argued in front of Kaeya and Klee. Turns out the names of these two brothers are in the poem, with the game possibly using them as stand-ins for Anfortas and Chlothar. You can read more about it here in a separate post.

My point is, since the poem is a source of inspiration, it can be assumed the writers are aware of the association of the Three Staves with the Fisher King, aka Anfortas.

If true, I think they did something really clever here by combining the Three Staves with the Three Nails.

THE BLACK SERPENT

I think most people have noticed the draconic/serpent imagery on Capitano's outfit. He has black scales, makeshift claws and a bunch of infinity symbols.

It is curious then that Capitano is essentially dressed as a black serpent/dragon.

Dainsleif: Black Serpent Knights. They once belonged to the Royal Guard of Khaenri'ah.

(...Yet unlike Capitano, the Black Serpent Knights don't look anything like black serpents.)

Little known fact is that even though Anfortas was the leader of the Schwanenritter, his knights still wore the Black Serpent armour. Ynghildr, one of the Swan Knights, turned into a Shadowy Husk that used the Windcutter model.

Mysterious Chronicles: "…Ynghildr, Schwanenritter, 'Damsel of the Dale' …Went missing in the battle against the Onslaught of Dark Beasts. Only her … and signet ring were recovered. A proper knight's funeral was arranged for her…"

(We even end up fighting her during the WQ Vimana Agama 💔.)

In the Shadows of the Mountains WQ, we find out two Khaenri'ahn knights, also using Black Serpent armour, went forth to Natlan to stop the Abyss; their sacrifice turned them into statues for 500 years. I think it's highly likely they were sent there on Anfortas' orders.

This is because one of the knights has interesting lines before and after you bring him peace:

"Irizar": "Leave! Go… I don't want him to see me— like this—" (The voice seems to come from the very depths of the unmoving statue. There is a hint of respect toward someone remaining within…)

Irizar: Did you see? Your orders have been carried out… You… won't be disappointed…

The thing is one of Anfortas' Ruin Golems is right next to Natlan.

This is also where you find the note written by the knight who worries if they'll be seen as sinners or heroes. I do not think they were ordered by Dainsleif, as his last order before he returned to the palace was "to protect the people of Khaenri'ah" while the last will of the Schwanenritter was to destroy the Cataclysm, which is an interesting contrast in itself…

Dainsleif: To this day, I still remember the final orders I, the Twilight Sword, gave to Halfdan on the day of disaster in Khaenri'ah, before I made haste back to the palace... "Inform all Black Serpent Knights to protect the people of Khaenri'ah at all costs." Zurvan: They said that those heroes (Schwanenritter) had walked their path despite the ill repute they had garnered… And that it was to carry the will those heroes had borne, and to completely destroy the disaster from the dark depths that they had followed the heroes' path to this place.

My personal speculation is that the Schwanenritter was a special division from the Black Serpent Knights. From the book Perinheri, we know there was an Alberich who was "commander of half the knights". As stated by old man Pierro himself, the reliability of this book is a bit dodgy, but this might give us a clearer vision on who was in charge.

Anyway, if those knights were sent by Anfortas, there's a chance he might have ended up in Natlan himself as they were heavily affected by the Abyss. Perhaps something funky happened to him there amidst all the chaos… who knows? If we consider the three nails and what it represents, perhaps Anfortas died; but since he's a Khaenri'ahn likely cursed with immortality and Natlan's leylines are weak, death won't come to him that easy.

One other thing: on either side of the door to Khaenri'ah, there are two reliefs that show a guardian holding a sword. As it happens, their helmets are flat and have a huge 8-pointed star in the middle... just like Capitano.

OTHER SIMILARITIES AND SUSPICIOUS BEHAVIOR 🤨

–Both Anfortas and Capitano are commanders of an army. To paraphrase @kaeyacollection, if I was Pierro, I would want someone with experience to lead my army and not some random bloodstained guy from Mondstadt, right? Pierro and Anfortas would have undoubtedly known each other as Pierro was a Royal Mage and Anfortas was part of the Royal Guard, so it wouldn't be strange for Pierro to recruit someone who he's already familiar with and can depend on.

Mocking Mask (Pierro): Since my level of learning could not compare with the sages, I failed to earn the favor of the previous ruler.

Furthermore, Pierro refers to King Irmin as the "previous ruler" which is an odd choice of words as it could either imply there is still a current ruler out there or Pierro simply acknowledged Anfortas as the last one, which has some interesting implications seeing as he only took up the position temporarily.

–Anfortas is highly respected, as shown by the note written by the knight who believed in him until the end. Someone even tried to write a letter to him begging him to petition the king. And if that knight who was sent to Natlan was referring to the Marshal, it means his main concern was that he would fail Anfortas.

Furthermore, there's a message left scattered across Ruin Guards with the encryption key being Anfortas' name…

Decoded message: We Schwanenritters have fought to the last one

We don't know who left it there, and hell it might be Anfortas himself, but whoever it was certainly valued the name. Fun fact: the achievement you get when you interact with all the Ruin Guards is called In the Name of Anfortas. This is similar to the achievement In the Name of Favonius, which you can get after completing a daily commission that indirectly involves Kaeya!

As far as we can tell, Capitano is also highly admired. Viktor would rather work for him, Varka wrote an entire love letter about him and the voicelines of the Harbingers confirm he's respectable man. (Although Wanderer and those of us who have run into Cap's animal lava farm may have some questions 🤨)

About The Captain "The ever-righteous Captain," "the brave and fearless Captain," "the nigh-invincible Captain"... Even my mechanical ears demand maintenance after listening to so many compliments from the members of the Fatui. Don't you think that possessing absolute righteousness is actually a latent danger? And that's without taking his great personal strength into account.

According to Wanderer, Capitano is seen as extremely righteous. We don't know enough about Anfortas to compare his morals with Capitano's but we do know that he executed his own comrade after a betrayal yet still gave them a proper knight's funeral since they were the last one left. This could allign with Cap's extreme righteousness and honor.

–Capitano proclaimed to the Pyro Archon that someone needs to pick up the mantle of salvation during a crisis…. which is exactly what Anfortas did. He stepped in when Irmin was busy poking holes in the veilussy of sin. Who knows? Perhaps Capitano doesn't want history to repeat itself.

–There could be another reason, though. You see, The Schwanenritter is named after the legend of the Swan Knight. These were an order of Grail Knights who would be sent out in secret to provide a ruler to a kingdom if there was none.

Members of this order are sent out in secret to provide lords to kingdoms that have lost their protectors

Furthermore, the Swan Knight had to hide his origins and name; same thing Capitano is doing.

The story of the Knight of the Swan, or Swan Knight, is a medieval tale about a mysterious rescuer who comes in a swan-drawn boat to defend a damsel, his only condition being that he must never be asked his name.

Varka: The man hides everything under the mask he wears, so no one can know his past or his origins.

–Speaking of which, when Capitano was first mentioned in Varka's letter, guess who was there to witness it?

What's funny is he doesn't even speak during this entire scene. They just forced him to stand there for seemingly no reason.

–Capitano is in Natlan. In Kaeya's hidden letters, there is a lot of fire imagery. Kaeya's father takes this even further by practically quoting Natlan's rule of resurrection. They even use the same term for ashes/embers in the original CN.

Mysterious Box in a Secret Compartment: A piece of it has been burned away, and the remaining parts show signs of having been rescued from that same flame.

Mysterious Box in a Secret Compartment: (Kaeya's father): "Though we could not restore Khaenri'ah to life, we of the Alberich Clan should lead lives as those who blaze like fire, rather than those who wallow in the embers." Dainsleif (Travail trailer, Natlan): The rules of war are woven in the womb: the victors shall burn bright, while the losers must turn to ash.

Mysterious Box in a Secret Compartment: (Kaeya): "Now that I look at it, his handwriting was as grieving as a smoking ash pile."

I don't know what to make of it and perhaps there's no deeper connection, but you have to admit, it is a little odd…

–The name Anfortas is speculated to be derived from french "enfertez" which means infirmity or weakness/illness. This is a very interesting contrast to Capitano's strong man persona. Not to mention, Capitano's commedia dell'arte counterpart is a braggart who only boasted about his strength. Who knows, perhaps Anfortano is suffering from an ailment/curse and is using whatever means he can to make himself stronger. (Such as the "presence" inside him.)

That being said, in the book Perinheri, the Alberich who was commander of half the knights was part of the "mightiest figures in Khaenri'ah".

–For some reason, Kaeya has what looks like snakeheads with a split tongue on his pants. You can also find a version of this on Capitano's outfit. …Yeah, I don't know either.

Jokes aside, Kaeya is wearing the top half of Capitano's modified Fatui coat complete with weird double flaps and fur boa. (There was a Hoyofair fananimation a year ago where the artist portrayed Anfortas with black fur which is pretty funny in hindsight.)

If Capitano isn't related to Kaeya, I'm going to need a very good explanation for why they share the same terrible fashion sense.

–Both Chlothar and Caribert have black hair and blue eyes... just like our buddy Capitano. While that's not enough to claim they're related, it is certainly a point in our favor.

–Since Pierro was original enough to give the title of "the Doctor" to a doctor, it wouldn't be too out of place for him to dub a marshal "the Captain".

–Kaeya was adopted by Crepus, who owned a Delusion. Is it really a coincidence that Kaeya was taken in by a man with ties to the Fatui? If any of the Harbingers are connected to Kaeya, Pierro (Khaenri'ahn) and Capitano (identity unknown) would be the two biggest suspects, right?

WHY CAPITANO CAN'T BE ANFORTAS…HAHA UNLESS?

–As mentioned before, Anfortas lost his left eye. From Mika's character story, we know Capitano has glowing dark blue eyes plural. However, it's unclear whether he lost his eye in the literal sense or was only blinded. It's possible Anfortas simply grew the eye back but if that's the case I don't see the point in mentioning the loss in the first place, other than to draw a parallel to Kaeya (who didn't even lose his eye either…)

–Capitano uses a strange power that looks related to Nightsoul… …Whatever it is, it could point at him being from Natlan. However, the Traveler can use Phlogiston despite not being from Natlan. We don't have Pyro Traveler yet but I suspect they will be able to use Nightsoul as well.

Mavuika also says she sensed an "unsual presence" inside Capitano. This "presence" could explain his ability to use Walmart Nightsoul and why he has knowledge on a secret oath made 500 years ago (and why he has two eyes again).

–I think it's possible Anfortas is either Kaeya's "pirate" grandpa or his father and if that's the case the chances of Capitano being playable are abyssmal 💀. However, Arthurian Anfortas was famously saved by his nephew Parzival. If they go by the legend and Parzival is the equivalent of Kaeya, Anfortas could be his uncle instead.

In any case, we'll have to wait and see where the story goes from here. Even if Anfortas isn't Capitano, he still has major relevance that has yet to be revealed. Until then, much like Anfortas and Capitano, all we can do is suffer on the cross 👍🏽

*UPDATE 5.1: CAPITANO'S LINES FROM THE AQ

"The Captain": Why...? Because I am a survivor of Khaenri'ah. I've witnessed the devastation and terror of the Abyss with my own eyes. "The Captain": That's right. My family, my comrades, my homeland... were all lost to the Abyss. It is an unforgettable pain, one that no amount of time could ever dull... not even five hundred years. "The Captain": If I could go back, I would reject all false hope. I would do whatever it took to ensure their survival.

"The Captain": That story begins with the cataclysm five hundred years ago.... I failed to save Khaenri'ah from the rampage of the Abyss. When the situation became unsalvageable, I fled to Natlan with the remainder of my platoon. "The Captain": Only to find that Natlan had fallen victim to the same tragedy. I defended this land for quite some time and, in the process, met the chief of the Masters of the Night-Wind, Ayizu. I'm sure many people viewed Khaenri'ah as the cause of the tragedy, but Ayizu was kind to me all the same, and even helped me in my time of need. "The Captain": From that moment, I made it my mission to aid Natlan. In battle, a warrior fights to win. Even though my homeland was lost, I was already committed to this fight.

"The Captain": Heh, even without the mask, my past appearance is long gone. Even with the curse of immortality, the flesh still rots. Paimon: Wait, do you know someone named Dainsleif? That problem doesn't seem quite so... extreme for him. "The Captain": You've met him already? Paimon: Yeah, a bunch of times. Sounds like you know him, too. "The Captain": During the age of Khaenri'ah, all I knew was his name. The last time I saw him in person, he was traveling with the Prince. He carries a degree of pain and hatred that far surpasses my own.

#genshin impact #capitano #anfortas #anfortas alberich #kaeya alberich #kaeya #lore bytes #when will my suffering end #update: we won 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

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chuulyssa · 6 months ago

Text

🇨 🇴 🇴 🇰 🇮 🇪 🇸 !

BSD MEN REACT TO YOU BAKING COOKIES FOR THEM AFTER A BAD DAY.

↷ A/N ─ we hit 5k+ notes !! im so happy :D there's gonna be an event which im gonna talk about at the end of this. enjoy and please leave likes and reblogs :)

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa

!! TAGS ─ fluff, pure fluff, hurt/comfort, angst

"i know you had a bad day, so i made you cookies"

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

It wasn't abnormal for someone like you to see Dazai cry. Nevertheless, it'd make him feel embarrassed, even pathetic for showing his emotions to you in such a way. And somewhere in his mind, he could see the faint looks of pity on your face every time he broke down, eyes glossy as he'd remember his old days at the Port Mafia with his perfect little friend group.

He was Osamu Dazai. He had experienced pain, loss, a few fleeting moments of joy, and so much. He had been through a lot. He did not need anyone's sympathy - even yours.

This day was, hence, nothing out of the ordinary. Dazai had trudged back home with heavy steps, dismissing your questions about his whereabouts and remarks about how drenched he got in the rain.

He had gone straight into the bathroom and locked himself in. It didn't matter how many years had passed since Oda's death. It would always feel like yesterday to him, so close yet so far away. It would always rip his heart out how if he had been there just a few moments earlier, he could never have had to watch his only friend die.

He sank to his knees near the wash basin and cried.

---

There was a knock on the door. Dazai scrambled to his feet to open it. He was in the bedroom after another breakdown, locked away.

"Dazai?" he heard your soft voice from outside the door. His heart warmed up a little and he opened the door.

"I know you had a bad day," you said, holding out a plate of freshly baked cookies, "so I baked you cookies."

Dazai looked down at the plate for a moment, then looked back up at you. He felt numb. He felt disoriented. Slowly, he reached out to break one cookie with his fingers and ate it.

"This... this is amazing," he said quietly, tears blurring his vision, threatening to break him down once more.

"It's not much. They're only chocolate chip," you waved a hand off. "Do you like them?"

"Yeah," he replied in a breathy voice. "Yeah, I do."

His ruined day had been perfected by a mere batch of cookies. As you urged him to have more, he finally smiled.

How could someone be so kind?

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ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

Chuuya was no stranger to drinking and passing out on his couch only to be woken up by you late at night so that he could come to the bed and sleep comfortably there. He felt pathetic for using wine and alcohol as a means of coping with loneliness, especially after Dazai left the Port Mafia.

"Chuuya?" you whispered softly in his ear.

He stirred in his sleep, one hand hanging off the couch while empty bottles crowded on the floor.

"Chuuya."

His eyelids fluttered open, and with a groan, he shifted on the couch, his hand instinctively reaching for the bottle that lay within arm's reach.

But before he could grasp it, you gripped his hand gently.

"No," you said firmly.

He paused to look at you before rubbing his eyes with his other hand and sitting up.

"I baked you cookies," you murmured, sitting on the couch beside him.

It was only then that Chuuya noticed his favourite cookies decorating a plate that sat on the table in front of him. You leaned forward to grab two cookies, shoving one in your mouth and the other in his.

With his mouth stuffed with a cookie, he couldn't help but stare at you as the events of the entire day crashed onto him all at once. A tear slipped from his eye - of joy, admiration or sadness, he did not know. But as he stared lovingly at the way you playfully scolded him for not including you in the drinking session, your voice muffled from the food, there was only one thought that crossed his mind.

How could he ever be stupid enough to believe that he was lonely when he had you?

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ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

Ranpo was not the type to cry in front of people. With his child-like confidence, very few people had ever actually seen him in a vulnerable state.

So it was distressing when he realized you saw right through his fake smile. He felt like an idiot for not predicting that you would get to know about how upset he was after the President scolded him.

He lay on his bed. Even thinking was too tiring for him right now. His hair was all over his face, his head pressed against his pillow. There was a knock on the door, and he spoke in a quiet voice, "Come in."

You entered with a plate of cookies. They were shaped like little stars, each with a different flavour and colour. You set the plate next to the nightstand and gave him a soft smile.

"I know you had a bad day, so I baked you cookies."

"You... you did?" he whispered, his voice cracking as he slowly sat upright to look at you in the eyes.

"I tried. I don't know how they taste. I wanted you to be the first one to take a bite."

He nodded and you sat down on the floor, looking up at him and putting a cookie in his mouth gently. Ranpo opened his mouth and felt the savoury taste of your baking.

"I like it," he hummed.

"Really? Do you want me to make some more for you tomorrow?"

"You will?" his face brightened up genuinely. "I love you!"

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ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

Akutagawa was one to hide emotions from everyone. He did not like to let others think of him as human, but rather as a creature to be feared, and someone to be proud of to Dazai.

Since the night Dazai had been abducted and Akutagawa had interrogated him, the latter had been quiet. He was never to talk too much or overshare, but it could be sensed that something had hurt him deeply.

"Ryuu?" you said softly sitting down next to him.

"No," he looked away, shunning you out before you even got the chance to speak.

"I know you had a bad day," you smiled softly, "so I baked you cookies."

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye before his heart melted. You had the most beautiful look on your face, two hands supporting a plate of cookies. He had never told you what his favourite ones were, frankly he couldn't decide. Sweet things just weren't for him.

But these ones, the ones that you made just for him? These were his favourites. The ones you had made that showed how much you understood him.

At that point, he realized he did not have to change himself to gain the approval he desired in the past. He had already won in life the moment he met you.

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🇹 🇭 🇦 🇳 🇰 🇾 🇴 🇺 🇫 🇴 🇷 5 🇰 🇳 🇴 🇹 🇪 🇸 !

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indecisive-capricorn · 8 months ago

Text

Yandere Cullens Family's Reactions to You Attempting to Escape:

WARNINGS: Yandere, running away, mature language, manipulation, toxic relationship, gaslighting, etc.

SUMMARY: You tried to run away from your kidnapper lover but your attempt failed and now you have to face the consequences of your actions. Problem is, how will your beloved yandere react to it and what are the punishments that lie ahead for you?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: We had the Volturi guards and now, we'll have the Cullens! I guess, I'm in my active writing era for tumblr, so don't be surprised if I end up posting a whole lot more. It can be about Twilight or even other fandoms. I'll definitely be posting more for Miguel O'Hara too. Also, I was supposed to post this later on but it got put on queue and I didn't know how to put it out of the list, so I apologize if it seems a little rushed.

MASTERLIST & REQUESTS: Before you go, have a glass of wine or better yet, recommend a good bottle. any kind of message is always a delight.

-----

EDWARD CULLEN aka THE MIND READER

He's a mind reader. That is the only thing you need to know about him to know that it's useless to even try to escape because Edward is already reading your mind to see the potential plans of your escape. He'll do everything to ensure you won't escape and if you managed to find a single hint that could bring your hopes up to do so, he'll immediately eliminate it by fixing the problem. If you had somehow— no one knows precisely how —managed to find an escape, then just know that he'll find you soon enough. Not even just because of his abilities as a vampire since he can easily track down your scent with them, but also because well— he can read your mind. Edward will know where you desperately want to go to and he'll know about the decisions that you'll make as you try to escape. So, good luck but it's practically impossible, unless you managed to outsmart him by thinking of some sort of distraction. But yeah, it's almost impossible because he's constantly reading your mind! Very nosy indeed for a vampire but even worse as a yandere vampire.

CARLISLE CULLEN aka THE DOCTOR

He would be disappointed. Carlisle isn't the type to get angry at people, but he would get disappointed in you when you try to run away because he thought you knew better than to do that. Honestly, out of everyone in the family, Carlisle is the yandere who gives the most freedom to his darling partner. Carlisle gives a lot of trust to you but after your attempt escape, which was most likely ruined because of another family member, he will definitely be keeping a closer eye on you. Carlisle will either give you a scolding after your escape or he will be quite silent while checking if you got any injuries while being outside. The latter is actually scarier than the first because it's unusual for Carlisle to be giving you the silent treatment and it would mean that he would be more cautious and give you less freedom from then on. However, instead of immediately locking you up in the house after your attempt escape, Carlisle will show you all the reasons to keep you in the house. It could be by showing you the wounds and deaths caused by a rogue vampire or even just by bringing you to the hospital to show you the potential wounds you could get by being outside.

ALICE CULLEN aka THE PSYCHIC

Same situation as Edward. She's a psychic. Alice can easily check through her gift when you feel even the slightest want to go against her. She'll immediately fix the problem and spend more time with you and be much more attentive too. However, if you decide to rebel against her far too many times, she might just let you attempt an escape. Under her watchful eye, of course, since she doesn't want anything to happen to her precious darling but Alice is sure she can make an accident or two happen around you or maybe worsen your day with some horrible mannered humans to get you thinking that going outside and rebelling against her isn't worth it. She'll be faking her worries when you finally decide to come back home to her and she'll fuss all over your health. Alice might hide it from you but she is strategic and quite smart, especially when it concerne you. Your attempt had also given Alice a chance to guilt trip you into being her personal dress up doll. Not that you already weren't before, but things are certainly much smoother if you follow her order like a sweet darling right?

ROSALIE HALE-CULLEN aka THE BEAUTY

Rosalie would be scoffing at your attempt. She's definitely annoyed and angry at you, but she is also blaming herself for it. Rosalie should have known you would try to escape and she probably had a feeling on that as well, yet she still decided to trust her darling. You could say that she considered it as a test to see your loyalty to her, one in which you had failed horribly. After she has finally calmed down from her anger, which could take a few days, she will return to you with a sweet smile and continue treating you as her precious jewel like she usually does. Now, you can ignore her attempts to win you back over with her charms and even insult her for it, but do remember that Rosalie could be the sweetest person in the world towards her darling, constantly spoiling you with affection and cherishing you with her gentle words. Her actions causes you to be awfully conflicted about your want to escape because why would you want to get away from someone who loves you more than anything in the world? Your doubts could be added if you had terrible partners in the past.

JASPER HALE-CULLEN aka THE SOLDIER

Jasper will definitely be hurt. I mean, which yandere wouldn't feel hurt at some point if their darling tries to escape? But out of everyone, Jasper is the one who shows it the most. He's trying so hard to adjust for his darling on everything. He had made renovations to his home, specifically to accomodate to your taste and comfort. He had to endure more trainings to keep his blood thirst under control because he doesn't want to hurt you, and so much more. Jasper doesn't expect you to return anything, not even your affections since he understands he needs to earn it, but you attempting to escape is almost like you were dismissing all of his efforts in one go or even worse, you didn't give a shit about them in the first place and that was what probably hurted him the most. Jasper will probably get stricter with you after that. He had tried to be fair and tried to respect your space before and to be quite honest, he is the yandere who gives the most freedom to you after Carlisle. His only rule was for you to not leave him. But you had to break the rule and now, you'll pay for the consequences.

ESME CULLEN aka THE LOVER

Esme has the same reaction as Jasper. She's hurt but she is also confused as well. Esme is really patient and she understands that you needed time and space to adjust living in her house, your new and sudden home that was completely foreign to you, and she's trying hard to get you adjusted and be as comfortable as possible. Like Jasper, she's doing everything she can for your comfort but unlike Jasper, she expects your acceptance in return. It's not as if she is expecting it in a cruel type of way with the mindset that she's doing something for you, so you should do something for her. No, Esme is nothing like that. However, Esme made sure she was doing everything right and she expected for your relationship with her to go more smoothly, not for you to suddenly escape. Your failed escape made her think she did something wrong, but she's confused because she had done everything right so far. Esme never forced you to return your affections, she wanted to slowly earn it, which is why after your failed escape, she had a talk with you and asked you why you tried to leave. Esme knows that she's flawed but she wants to improve herself and do everything she can to fix the problem but in no world would she ever let you go.

EMMETT CULLEN aka THE JOKER

Emmett is silent. He was so fucking silent that it actually scared you more than if he got angry at you and he had never gotten angry at you either but it's probably much better than the silent treatment you're getting. No teasings or even some bad jokes. Heck, not even his cheesy pick up lines. Emmett still takes care of you and spend time with you during his silent treatment though. He still cooks meals for you and cuddles with you while watching a horror movie, which is actually his favourite activity to do with you, but he still didn't say a single word. And it was starting to get to you as well. You had no one else besides Emmett in the house, sometimes his "siblings" would visit, but they don't talk much with you and you were beginning to slowly grow insane from the lack of conversations. It didn't matter how long it took but after some time, you broke down and begged for Emmett to speak to you because if the silent treatment continued on, you were sure you would go completely insane. Emmett was surprised when you begged him but he was pleased as well. He was silent all this time in order to make him more tolerable to you, but Emmett also knew that he would eventually break you and hoped it would be enough to get you to want to talk to him.

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4only1 · 25 days ago

Note

could you write something about Yamazaki shingen can be anything

The Last Great Yamazaki Dynasty

Yamazaki Shingen x Reader

Warnings: Suicide

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He was in his prime when you met. You think maybe it was the aura that he carried himself with that attracted you to him. Or Maybe, it was how he protected you from the group of thugs harassing you, it wasn’t clear. What was clear was how deeply you fell for him after that.

You didn’t think you would see him after, but you did. It was again, him appearing to defeat some gangsters that harassed you. You got a name the second time you met, Shingen Yamazaki. He wasn’t exactly the most charming man, more gruff than anything.

It could also have been how mysterious he was that attracted you. He never said many words every time you met, and you kept meeting. Whether by coincidence or it was planned by him, it was clear both you and he had developed an interest in each other.

It wasn’t that long ago that he held you closely and stroked your hair as you sat on his lap. It was a quiet but a clear sign of affection coming from him. He never did the action for anyone else. Not one of his 8 other mistresses did he hold and touch like he did to you. He slept with the other 8, but they never got to feel this vulnerable touch.

You knew you were his most special person when you discovered that his other mistresses expressed the emotion of jealousy before you. They sneered when you walked alongside him and gritted their teeth as he constantly called for you. The only reason they never retaliated was out of fear of what punishment might befall them.

They certainly didn't spare their words from reaching your ears however. They called you all sorts of thing, maddest, shameless, loudest woman they've ever seen.

When he was defeated by Gapryong Kim, he first went to you for comfort. A comfort that he wished was there now. The warmth he found as he stroked your hair, as he held you tightly in his arms had vanished. Perhaps your leaving is what further made him dive into depression.

You had sinned and needed to pay the price. You sinned by distracting the great leader of the clan, leading to his defeat. You weren’t like the other mistresses who would only pay with their fingers, you would pay with your life.

The note was left to discover in your room when you returned from visiting him. You knew it was coming, why wouldn’t it be? You had distracted him with your body, you were a temptress who needed to pay. Leaving wouldn’t be enough, he would find you, death was the only way you could atone.

It was bittersweet for you. So this was the end…it was nice. You got to choose how you would go instead of facing the brutalities the clan might force onto you. You didn’t leave a note, nobody would read it, and whoever found it would dispose of it before he could ever see it.

The next morning, your body was found. When news reached him, he had no reaction. He was already a shell of his former self, how could react? Inside however, very deep inside, he felt what was left of him break. You didn’t get a funeral. You were a sinner, why did you deserve one?

Who knows if you never showed up what could have been? Words spread again. There goes the maddest, shameless, loudest woman this clan had ever seen. She must have had a marvelous time ruining everything.

His void started with you and had no signs of ending. To him, dying sounded nice, it meant he might have a chance to see you again.

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Was waiting for the newest chapter to come out before writing this so I could get more of an idea about him. Again it is hard to write about a character that we know so little about so I decided to set this pre-gun backstory.

Again probably a million spelling errors but oh well. I enjoyed getting this request because it allowed me to think of a scenario that would also work in the canon storyline.

If anybody else would like to request don't be afraid. Just allow me some time to create an idea and write it down to my satisfaction. It may take a while but I will get there.

#lookism #Yamazaki Shingen #Yamazaki clan #lookism spoilers #lookism x reader #lookism manhwa #Shingen yamazaki

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azrielbrainrot · 5 months ago

Text

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 7

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: The time to restore your memories has finally come.

Warnings: Violence, Death (well not really)

Word Count: 4600

Notes: This is the moment of truth, our girl finally gets some answers. Hope you enjoy!

Part 6 ○ Part 8

It hasn't even been a full day since you killed Norris in that dark cell, but you've never felt better. The moment his heart stopped beating, you started breathing easier. It felt like the weight of the world fell off your shoulders, and knowing you will never have to kill or hurt someone at his orders brought you an amount of relief you never thought you would be able to feel. The days of stretching yourself thin to do his and the guild's bidding at the cost of your conscience were finally gone, you truly couldn't believe it.

You weren't so naive to think the guild would allow you to walk away so easily after not only deserting and sharing classified information about the organization, but also killing one of their best members. They would surely send out assassins to find and kill you, to silence you lest you tell the courts of Prythian too much about them - this is precisely how the guild has managed to survive in the shadows for so long after all, by disposing of any possible threat to the organization. But, with the backing of the Night Court and Azriel's endless support, you didn't feel so threatened, especially after witnessing their power and resilience while helping you with this whole situation. Rhysand has also already gotten more than enough information from Norris' mind to give you enough of an edge. Most of all, you weren't alone for the first time in your life.

The only thing that was still missing were your memories, the main part of the plan and the exact reason you were currently sitting in this foreign room while the High Lord prepared himself to enter your mind and destroy the spell keeping them locked out of your reach. You've been told this was the room you and Azriel had shared in the townhouse before you passed. An interesting choice made by the High Lady for such a somber spell to occur in, though you understand the sentiment behind her decision. With some luck, this place could act as a jumpstart to the process if needed. It would also be good for you in case regaining your memories somehow erases the recent ones.

If it were up to you, this would have happened right after Norris was killed, it could have been in that same damp and bloody cell for all you cared, but Azriel and the others insisted on waiting, letting you and Rhysand rest your bodies and minds before attempting such a delicate procedure.

Azriel also had to go and find the witch's tool Norris used, although that had taken him less than an hour since Rhysand had stolen that information directly from Norris' mind, and he had been back before you even had the chance to finish bathing. Apparently your theory that the tool had to be close to him was correct, and so your handler had hidden it not far from where your meeting had occurred. After he died, the glamour placed on it fell apart, and Azriel's shadows easily found it in the exact place Rhysand had told him it would be in.

The tool was nothing more than a simple amulet. It was easy to overlook the small ruby hanging from a delicate golden chain if it weren't for the strange, dark aura that clung to it, even Azriel's shadows seemed to recoil from it. It was hard to believe such a small object could cause so much destruction and hurt so many people.

Using the tool shouldn't prove to be too complicated for Rhysand either since he has seen Norris' memories of using it - you asked him to share these with you, but he refused, not wanting you to see that cruel male ruin your life and the state your body was in when Norris found you lying in a pool of your own blood in the forest, somehow still alive despite the wound and how long it had been, you decided to wait for your memories to come back before asking him again, the old you had to know how to convince him better - and, after dismissing the wards around your memories with its help, the rest should fall under standard daemati capabilities, which he already excelled at. Even keeping the amulet inactive and safe would be easy enough. Amren seemed to already have made preparations to keep it safe in the court, and a wicked glint in her eyes at the prospect of having such a tool in their arsenal - you really were glad they were on your side now.

The only standing problem and the reason the atmosphere in the room was so tense, was the lack of knowledge on the spell itself, and, more importantly, how dispelling it would affect you. The wards were placed in your mind a century ago, and had been active without pause for that long. Even Norris didn't seem to know the spell's full power or what ramifications could linger after it's gone from what Rhysand was able to learn in his mind. It's safe to assume that there's a big chance of your mind not being able to assimilate back, or even survive it.

You could almost feel Azriel's anxiety and fear as if they were your own, and, even if he would never ask that of you, you knew he didn't want you to go through with this. It was painfully obvious on his face - the spymaster was a lot easier to read then you would have guessed before meeting him. Azriel would rather have you like this than not at all, and you can't blame him for that as you don't know what it feels like to lose someone you love, let alone being on the verge of it happening for the second time, but that's precisely why you need to do this.

From what he has told you, you lived a full life before Norris had found you, and it doesn't feel right trying to fit back into place when you can't recall any of it, when you don't feel the same as you once did, when you don't know if you're still the same person. It would be impossible to even attempt to live a normal life with the constant reminder that a full century of your life, almost everything that you knew about yourself, had been a lie.

His hazel eyes meet yours as you shift on the mattress, impatiently waiting for Rhysand to finish his preparations. In truth, you don't think he has looked away from you for a second ever since you walked into this room, walked back into his life even.

You give him a small smile, hopefully quelling some of his nerves. He tries to return it, but you don't need your memories or the decades of knowing him to see right through it. It didn't reach his eyes, the concern so visible there it made a lump form in your throat, and his shadows were clinging to him almost desperately, trying to soothe their singer as best as they could, to no avail. You wished you knew how to comfort him, and how to let him comfort you properly in turn - yet another reason to go through with this.

“Are you ready?” Rhysand's voice makes you jump slightly and break eye contact with your husband, not even realizing you'd gotten lost in the warm hazel of his eyes once again.

“Yes,” you nod, straightening your back and placing your palms firmly on the mattress, risking one last look at Azriel before focusing on the High Lord.

“We can start then.”

You'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit nervous, scared even - your life was on the line after all, but this was your only chance of getting rid of that aching empty well inside of you, and if Azriel was convinced Rhysand was capable of doing so, then you believed him.

The High Lord was also worried though, if it wasn't obvious by the way his mate kept touching his arm and squeezing his hand, the lack of his usual obnoxious confidence would have given it away. If he failed he would not only lose his friend again, but also break his brother's heart beyond repair. You even think he'd end up blaming himself, though it didn't seem to fit in with the image you initially had of him. It's not an exaggeration to say your life is in his hands.

Feyre helps him wrap the amulet around his wrist as if it were a bracelet, squeezing his hand one more time before joining Azriel a few steps away, a conflicted look falling over her face as she watches her friend, not knowing how to comfort him. Even Amren, who stood by the door with crossed arms, looked concerned. If you weren't already more than curious enough to risk your life to regain your memories, the fact that such a creature would look worried about you would definitely make you want to remember everything just to find out exactly how that came to happen.

Rhysand walks to you then, stopping right in front of your legs dangling off the bed, close enough that your feet almost touch his shins, and lets out a soft but weary breath, looking into your eyes as if searching for any sign of doubt. When he seems to be content with what he finds in them, he reaches over and holds your head between his hands softly.

“It might help me keep grounded in your mind. Every little trick is worth a try,” he explains when he sees your confused expression, the smile he throws at you not quite reaching his purple eyes either, before closing his eyes, his magic coming to life around you.

In the next moment, you feel black talons scraping at your mental walls, prompting you to close your eyes as well and fight against every one of your instincts to allow the High Lord passage into your mind. You try to keep your thoughts as blank as possible so Rhysand can find what he's looking for more easily, like he said, every trick is worth a try.

You don't exactly know what you were expecting, but definitely not for it to happen so fast. Just as you felt a knock at what you now could distinguish as the wards keeping your memories from surfacing, they came tumbling down, an acute pain at the base of your skull making you fist the sheets under your hands, biting your lip to stop yourself from making any noise or moving too much. You didn't want to break Rhysand's concentration, or worry Azriel and the others more than necessary, you could handle it.

The pain goes as suddenly as it started, and you could feel Rhysand's presence everywhere as he searched through your mind. It was a foreign feeling, to know someone could read into your every thought. Even if he dove into a different corner of your mind, one you hadn’t agreed to, there was no way for you to stop him now, no way for you to stop him from seeing all the awful things you've done at the guild's orders, no way to stop him from showing them to Azriel if he so wished. In the midst of your spiraling thoughts, a soft caress reaches you through your mind, a reassurance - you almost forgot he could hear your fears as well.

A few moments later, you feel him come to a sudden stop, the lull barely giving you a chance to breathe before memories start rushing into your brain at an alarming speed, so much so that your head physically hurts, a lot worse than before. It's like you can feel the memories forming into your brain and pushing away the ones constructed by the spell. Some of them you were vaguely aware of as they seemed to haunt you when you slept, like dreams overwriting reality but, with every second that passes and every moment shown to you, you realize they had never been dreams to begin with.

Your mind struggles to hold onto everything, your past memories eating away at what you had believed was your life mere minutes ago. You faintly feel Rhysand's, now achingly familiar, presence leave your mind, his hands lingering a second longer, thumb caressing your cheek comfortingly before following, letting you have some privacy to assimilate the onslaught of information on your own, and then the world goes dark, senses completely overwhelmed, barely registering the feeling of your body falling back into the mattress and scarred hands holding onto you, as your mind struggles to catch up to everything.

Your feelings seem to reach you before the memories even have a chance to sink into your mind, or for you to go through them and remember everything properly. The strongest ones are easily your love for Azriel, flowing over you in suffocating waves, and the subsequent anger at yourself that follows, for abandoning him and then hurting him so much. It's like some little voice inside you that had been screaming at you, and trying to claw its way out from under your skin, trying to stop you from hurting him, was finally able to be heard.

As you rake through the memories, remembering all the happy moments you and Azriel have spent together, - every little date, every kiss, every morning night and morning spent together, - and even the saddest ones, - the fights spent yelling at each other in the rain and the make up sex right up against your front door - the guilt only gets heavier in your chest, tying itself around your heart and almost making you unable to breathe.

You stabbed your husband, the love of your life, the male you had vowed to protect and love to the end of your days. Even if you had been controlled by whatever dark magic was in your brain, you can still feel the weight of Truth Teller in your hand, could feel the faint resistance of his skin against the decisive force of your movement, could feel his blood on your hands, could feel so much blood on your hands. Gods, what have you become?

It almost feels like there's two people inside you for a few moments, trying to make sense of each other as the world collapses and re-forms itself around them. As one part of you lives through memories in the night court, the other balks at all you've done at the guild, mourns an innocence you will never be able to get back. You don't know where you begin and the assassin ends, where Azriel's wife even fits in the equation.

Trying to stay on track, and desperately hold onto something in the incessant waves of memories, real and fake, and the feelings attached to them, you try to calm yourself enough to try to remember what happened the night you died. You knew your throat had been cut with a faebane laced weapon, the scar would always be etched into your skin, but you never knew how it happened. For some reason, you never even thought of asking anyone in the guild about it, like you didn't consider it pertinent information - no doubt, a consequence of the spell Norris used on you. If you started asking questions you might have found out something you weren't supposed to.

That particular night is still somewhat hazy in your mind, likely a consequence of the trauma you experienced. There are broken memories of you talking about the mission with Azriel and the rest of the Inner Circle. You recall not feeling the least bit nervous about it as they were simple bandits that somehow had gotten lucky and managed to evade Azriel's shadows for a little while before getting caught. You remember getting a few leads on them, and splitting up to try and find something. The feeling of Azriel's lips on yours as he quickly kissed you goodbye before disappearing into his shadows is still vivid in your mind.

After that things start getting muddled. You found the bandits at some point, and, even if there were more of them than what you expected, they didn't seem particularly strong so you were holding up your own in the fight that broke out as soon as they saw you. The next thing you knew though, someone had struck you from behind, hitting the back of your head hard enough that it brought you to your knees, the same person grabbing your hair and slicing your throat the next moment, not giving you a chance to avoid it. There's a break in your memories then.

All you can remember at first is your body feeling heavy, not being able to get your limbs to obey your commands as you struggled to flip yourself over so you weren't laying face down on the mud, the cold rain falling on your skin uninterrupted. Trying to take a breath into your lungs only to find it almost impossible and extremely painful. You remember the coppery taste in your mouth distinctly, not being able to swallow or make any sound through your destroyed throat. The thought that the knife had to have been laced with something was swimming around your mind, a simple cut like that wouldn't have been hard for your fae healing to handle.

You were vaguely aware of the voices around you but couldn't make any sense of what they were saying, your heartbeat was too loud in your ears and panic was starting to set in. The only thing you were sure of at that moment was that you were going to die on that muddy floor at the hands of petty thieves, this possibility not allowing you to even try to make out what they were saying, not caring about them anymore.

Azriel always told you that you needed to work on your openings so things like this didn't happen, so you didn't get caught off guard. He was right, he usually was, not that you would have ever admitted it to his face. The thought of your husband brings tears to your unfocused eyes. You wished you could have had more time with him. He has brought you an amount of love and happiness you didn't even think possible, and all you'll give him in return is pain. You promised him you would stay by his side to the end of your days, assured him you would never leave him multiple times when his nightmares became too much to bear and old insecurities made themselves known.

You made one last prayer to the Mother. Begging for your life wasn't worth it anymore, but you still asked that Azriel could survive this, that he would forget about you and move on. You had always wanted to give him the best, had vowed to make him as happy as possible but were failing miserably like this. The news of your death would break him, you didn't even want to imagine how he would feel when he found out. Fuck, you hoped he wouldn't be the one to find your body at least.

What a cruel fate. Making him go through so much hardship and pain in his life and still take one of the few blessings he had found for himself. You've only been married for a little over a decade, such an insignificant amount of time compared to the years he had behind him, and hopefully still ahead of him. You'd never forgive the Mother for making him suffer so much.

As your thoughts quiet, you notice the lack of voices around you. Apparently the killers had just left you there, bleeding out on the cold ground, not even bothering to finish the job properly. They didn't have to, you didn't need to be a healer to know your injuries would kill you in not even another minute. Your senses were getting duller with every painful beat of your heart, you couldn't even hear the sounds of the birds coming from the forest behind you anymore, couldn't focus on your thoughts, could barely see the light of the moon and the stars shining in the dark sky. It feels fitting for you to die at night, it was as close to Azriel as you could get now, watching the same moon shining under him, the same one you had fallen in love under.

As you gaze upon the brilliant light of the moon, wishing you would have had the chance to say goodbye, a tightness settles in your chest, somehow making it pump faster, lessening the ache ever so slightly. The feeling is unlike any other, you mistakenly think it to be your body dying off before a breath is once again allowed into your lungs, easier than before. You blink a few times then, trying to search your surroundings for anyone with the limited control you had over your body, only to come up short. If anyone was healing you, there would be no reason for them to keep hiding. You've also had to be healed after an injury plenty of times, enough to know what it feels like and how effective it can be. This felt different somehow, and it didn't seem to be fully healing you as you could still feel your wound bleeding, your throat still as painful as it had been.

Azriel's familiar scent reaches you and mixes with your own. Your chest grows tight once more, body temperature somehow rising despite the cold rain and lack of blood, before an overwhelming feeling washes over you, traveling to every inch of your being as things suddenly click into place.

This was a mating bond.

Your sobs return at the realization, even more inconsolable than before, fingers digging into the bloody mud under you at the unfairness of it all. You could feel Azriel as if he was under your skin for a moment, smell him like he was standing over you, when in reality he was nowhere to be found, when you wouldn't be able to see him ever again.

Mating bonds are extremely rare and precious, most fae yearn for one chance of a love as powerful as a bond like this can bring. So why would the Mother waste it on you? Why not bind Azriel to someone who can stand by his side? Why not show it to you sooner, so you could have at least enjoyed it for a while? You've never heard of a bond forming as one person is about to die, when the other isn't even close - usually all it takes is a simple glance, the right exchange or words, rarely happening years after knowing someone.

What was the purpose of this? Why must life be so cruel? You almost want to hope it was a mistake, but the visceral reaction your body has at the thought, even in this state, doesn't allow you to. Azriel was yours, even if only for this laughable amount of time. You had a mate, one you would be able to tell your parents about when death came for you and took you to them.

Those were the thoughts swirling around your mind as you let out what would have been your last breath. Crying every tear left in your body, looking up at the moon and praying for the Mother to take the bond away, or not allow Azriel to feel it because, as much as it hurt you, you knew it would kill him to not only lose you but also lose a mate.

You had found it strange when Rhysand had told you Norris had found you alone in the forest, your body already cold, only a drop of blood still allowing you to cling onto life, but this explains it. The bond had somehow kept you alive long enough for Norris to find you, and take you to a healer at the guild like Rhysand saw. You had been long unconscious when he did, and so you didn't have any memory of any of it. You were also pretty sure the thieves might have been working for him, which explains how they had evaded Azriel's shadows for so long.

The answers regarding your death, the ones you had been aching to learn, now paled in comparison to what you had just unknowingly stumbled upon. You had a mate. You almost couldn't believe it, but the bond made itself known now that it was free from the wards' confines, shining bright deep inside you, linking you to someone through a strong but neglected bridge, still holding on after a century, and you know just where that bridge leads, shadows lurking over the other side.

You come to slowly, your mind aware of your consciousness before your body can follow. It's like you've never been this deeply asleep, the feeling of deja vu hitting you immediately. Perhaps that's why it takes you longer to realize you weren't lying down on a bed, not directly at least. There was a body under you, holding you close to him, enough so that you could hear his heartbeat as your head rested on his chest. You know it's Azriel right away, his touch and scent so unmistakable to you now, you don't know how it had been possible to ever forget it.

And the bond. You can feel it now, can feel something connecting the two of you, etched so deep into your soul that it almost feels impossible that you've been blind to it for so many years. Maybe because you've left it abandoned all this time, but you can literally feel it purr in satisfaction now, making it hard to focus on anything else.

You don't know how long you had been out for, the sun had set in the sky and everyone seemed to have left you two alone, the faint, lingering smell of Rhys' expensive cologne mixed with one scent you've only discovered recently, the only thing left behind. Gods, you can't believe both Cassian and Rhys had mates too.

Azriel had moved to lean against the headboard, sitting you across his lap, holding you close to him and resting your head against his chest as he rubbed slow circles up and down your arm soothingly. You didn't have to see him to know he had called his shadows over the both of you, keeping you safe in his arms as he waited for you to wake up, just like he always did.

Taking a deep breath, you open your eyes, not being able to restrain yourself from looking at your mate for another second. He must have been distracted or falling asleep himself because he tenses softly when you stir and rise up from his chest, hand moving up to hold your cheek adoringly the moment your eyes meet his wide, hazel ones.

You can see the questions swirling in his gaze, can almost taste the anxiety, but relief conquers every other emotion. As much as he wanted to know you were back, he was glad you had at least survived. Keeping him in suspense would be cruel of you, especially after making him wait a hundred years, you don't think you could bear another second either.

“Hello, Az,” you whisper softly, emotion tightening your throat. He lets out a sigh of relief, one that came from the depths of his soul and brings tears to his eyes. He leans his forehead against yours, stealing your breath away as a tear rolls down your cheek unattended.

“Welcome back, my love.”

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel angst

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itsjunear · 9 months ago

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Hidden feelings

Az x reader

Warnings: None, mention of loneliness, death and a little anger.

Note: Hello again! Thank you for taking the time to read me. I'm sorry if this is a disaster again, English is not my first language but I do what I can. Maybe I'll do a second part, I don't know yet. Again, thanks for reading even though I may not be very good at this.

I was listening to this song while writing this and I really loved it.

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"Was it a good idea to come today?"

I shrunk a little in my seat and swallowed hard. Of course, it had been a good idea; I was with my family. With mine, I reminded myself.

However, I couldn't help but feel a little... alone.

Rhys was in front of me, laughing at the story Feyre was telling him about one of the children attending painting classes in her studio, and Amren watched her amusedly with a glass of wine in her hand.

Cassian was at one end of the room, engrossed in listening to Nesta's account of how the Valkyries' training had gone.

And Az... the shadowsinger was chatting with Elain, who smiled sweetly at him, and she talked to him about the new flowers she was planting in the front part of the River House, in her lovely garden.

My heart squeezed a little, and I approached the window.

I gazed at the view, the lights twinkled cheerfully across the city, quite contrary to my mood. I sighed and took a sip of wine. Mor was visiting the Winter Court, so I had no one to get drunk with, even though I was very sure that anyone would have agreed to the request. They wouldn't have asked questions; they wouldn't have asked why I desperately needed to drown myself in drunkenness. They would have simply accompanied me.

But I didn't want to interrupt. I didn't want to ruin their states of... happiness.

They deserved it after all. Each one deserved whatever moments of happiness, and I didn't want to take that away from them.

I discreetly turned my gaze back to the shadowsinger, and a deep pain invaded my heart. There was no trace of Az's shadows, who was smiling at Elain in a way that felt very genuine. And she returned the gesture. Part of me could understand it, the sweet Elain, who could resist her? She was so delicate, so kind, and she had won everyone's heart.

She wasn't to blame for any of my feelings. She wasn't to blame for my secretly being in love with the shadowsinger for over three hundred years and never having told him. That was my fault.

"Maybe you should stop looking at the window as if it were your enemy, or it will think you really hate it" Cassian joked beside me.

I turned my gaze to him and smiled slightly.

"I didn't see you at training today," said as he gently squeezed my arm as a show of affection. I shrugged, feigning indifference.

"I wasn't feeling well." Lie. I hadn't gone because it hurt to look at Az. I knew he would be there, and I... well, maybe it wasn't entirely a lie. I did feel a little unwell. Not physically, of course.

Cassian put an arm around my shoulder and looked at me with concern. "Is everything okay?"

No. Yes.

I forced a smile on my face, convincing enough not to ruin his evening. "Yes, Cass. It's nothing" I downplayed it. "A little food will cheer me up" Cassian smiled slightly, but the concern didn't vanish from his eyes.

I had never told anyone about my crush on Az. No one. And I supposed I had hidden it enough not to raise suspicions.

"Well, I'll tell them it's time to eat, or you'll get grumpy" he said. I laughed a little as I nudged Cassian lightly. Minutes later, we were all seated in the dining room.

Rhys had sat next to me, followed by Feyre "May I know why you've become so lazy that we now need to schedule an appointment to see you?" a voice spoke in my mind. I smiled without looking at Rhys as I served myself some salad. "I have a very busy schedule, High Lord" I replied aloud. Rhys raised an eyebrow, but he didn't press further.

Grateful that he didn't ask more questions, I looked up only to meet Az's eyes staring at me intently. I smiled slightly as I watched his shadows swirl behind him and coil around one of his round ears.

Okay, maybe I had been avoiding everyone a little, it's just that I didn't want to infect them with my bad mood. And I didn't want to hurt myself more by seeing Az with Elain.

The shadowsinger continued to look at me, and I furrowed my brow.

"Do I have something?" I asked.

"Aside from a bad mood, nothing" Cassian teased as I kicked him under the table before hissing. Nesta chuckled softly.

The conversation flowed slowly. Everyone conversed with everyone, and I simply listened. I enjoyed the naturalness with which Feyre laughed at a bad joke from Cassian and the way Rhys howled when Amren teased him afterward. I even enjoyed the dessert Elain had prepared, complimenting her on how delicious it had been. But I never looked at the shadowsinger. I didn't want to torture myself anymore. I didn't want to hurt my heart anymore when I thought about how much I longed to be close to him. So, for my own sake, I resisted sneaking glances at him.

Then something Rhys said caught my attention "... happened on the outskirts of an Illyrian camp. It ended in the death of four females" Horrified, I looked at him. "I didn't get any coherent or hole-free answers about what might have actually happened" anger emanated from him, from the rage that tinged his voice, I could assume he was quite frustrated with the situation. Feyre put her hand on his, trying to reassure him.

My friends deserved peace. They deserved these moments of peace. So, I didn't think twice before offering myself. "I'll go, Rhys"

"No" Az said quickly, his voice firm.

Cassian looked at him but didn't say anything, apparently in agreement.

Maybe it was anger that surged through my spine and made me act like an idiot. "I wasn't asking for permission" I spat out each word slowly.

The shadowsinger tensed as he frowned, the shadows behind him stirring. "It's very dangerous"

This time it was definitely anger boiling under my skin. I wanted to go on this mission so they could continue to be at peace, but also to get away from him. I needed a break from thinking about his eyes, from thinking that every part of him seemed beautiful to me. Even the hands he hated. "I'm old enough to make that decision" I simply said.

"I'll go with you."

I felt my whole-body tense.

"No" Az gave me a hurt look, and I regretted behaving like this, but I needed to get away. To distance him. "I can do this alone. The others need you here" I added quickly.

"Rhys" I called. He looked at me a little indecisive, debating whether to side with his brother or mine. He looked at Feyre, and I guessed they had a conversation mind to mind as they usually did when they had to make a decision.

"Alright. But you'll report every day" Feyre concluded. I smiled gratefully, and she returned the gesture, although concern also shone in her eyes.

The room filled with tension.

"She's not a spy" Az declared with a frosty look.

"Enough, Azriel" I said irritably.

Why did he insist so much on this? I was perfectly capable of doing it. I had gone on more dangerous missions and come out unscathed. This shouldn't be so complicated, and I felt that justice needed to be served for those four dead females. Cassian cleared his throat, bringing me back to reality in my seat, and I looked at Rhys with a polite smile. "I'll leave at dawn tomorrow. You'll get a report in the evening"

Rhys nodded, and dinner ended without any further incident. However, I felt the intense gaze of the shadowsinger on me for the rest of the night, until I fell asleep on the couch while some continued to drink.

In the midst of unconsciousness, I felt warm hands lift me up and a hard chest brush against my body. Drowsily, I buried my head in the crook of the neck of the one carrying me and relaxed when a familiar pine scent enveloped me. He gently laid me down on the large bed and took off my shoes almost reverently.

I might have imagined it, but I clearly felt how before leaving, he placed a kiss on my hair and closed the door, leaving me engulfed in darkness.

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #bat boys #i dont know what im doing

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loganwritesprobably · 4 months ago

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First 'I Love You'

The first time you say I love you, and the first time they say it, featuring Crocodile, Benn and Ichiji

Notes/Warnings: GN!Reader, Alabasta era Crocodile, angst (Crocodile), fluff (Benn & Ichiji), character death, canon-typical violence, minor injury mentioned, Robin and Law as background characters

You say I love you first

It was a fairly normal evening, you and Crocodile were cleaning up and getting ready for bed, tired from a long day of work. You'd been dating for months now, with you having moved into his quarters above the casino a couple of weeks ago. Things weren't moving too fast, or too slow - just right. At least for you. You knew what sort of man Crocodile was, and you were just fine with that. You were less fine with knowing he was keeping secrets from you, but he'd tell you when he was ready.

You pulled your shirt over your head, turning to see Crocodile leaving the ensuite bathroom, ready to get into bed. You approached and wrapped your arms around him, pushing up onto your toes to press a kiss to his jaw. "I'll just brush my teeth." You told him, and he hummed with a smile. "Alright sweetheart." And with that you released him to head for the bathroom yourself. You paused in the doorway, which Crocodile took note of, and stopped before climbing into the bed to look at you expectantly.

"I love you, you know." You said. It clearly look your lover off guard, as he just stared at you, unsure how to proceed. "You don't have to say it back. I just.. wanted you to know." Then you slipped into the bathroom and left Crocodile to process your words.

It took Crocodile quite a while to finally say it back

With Luffy close to ruining all his plans

You still hadn't uncovered all of his secrets, and you didn't think you ever would

Luffy was closing in, you all knew it. For a rookie, the kid was crazy, and honestly kind of scary. You, Crocodile and Robin stood in the grand room beneath the palace, Cobra tied up in a corner and bleeding. You looked at Robin expectantly, waiting for the knowledge from the poneglyph.

"It isn't here." She told you both, turning to you first with a silent apology in her eyes, then to Crocodile with a more cold expression. "Do not lie to me, Miss All Sunday." Crocodile accused, and you reached to take his arm in your hand. "I believe her. It isn't here. But we can keep moving with the plan, with the power of a country we can look els-" You didn't get a chance to finish your sentence.

You looked down and found a knife in your abdomen, and Crocodie's large fingers wrapped around the handle. You slowly traced your eyes up his body until they met his, and he didn't even look remorseful. He let go of you, and you fell to the ground, bleeding. He approached Robin slowly, who was clearly wary and worried for you simultaneously. Two arms sprouted from the ground to press against your wound, all the while she was slowly inching away from Crocodile. Sadly, with her attention split between the two of you, he managed to get her next.

He left Robin on the ground, her extra limbs disappearing from around you so she could focus her energy on herself, and you didn't blame her.

Crocodile approached you again, looming over you with a smirk on his face. "You know, for a moment there, I almost loved you too." He said mockingly. Crocodile crouched slowly downward, and with one of his large hands he scooped your head up until you were close enough for him to press a filthy kiss against your lips.

You hoped Luffy kicked his ass. That was your final thought before your eyes slid closed for a final time.

Benn said I love you first, a surprise to you both

The Red Force had docked at an island to restock once again, having run out of booze a couple of days ago, and you were beginning to run out of food too. Everyone was disembarking to gather supplies and spend some time on land, but you'd managed to injure yourself while sparring with Shanks a few days ago, and you and your sprained ankle were to stay on the ship. It was a bit of a bummer, but at least it meant you didn't have to do heavy lifting. And you got to watch Benn do heavy lifting, which you'd never complain about.

"We won't be long darlin'." Benn called out as he headed for the gangplank. "I'll be here." You replied, lifting the drink in your hand with a grin. "Alright, see you later. Love ya!" He called out and walked away.

You remained there frozen, clearly Benn hadn't quite realised what he'd done, but you had.

But you weren't far behind.

Despite your injury, you put down your drink and rushed to the side of the ship, adrenaline helping you ignore the pain. "Benn!" You called out, leaning over the railing, grinning like a madman. Benn looked back at you, confused and a little concerned. "I love you too!" You said, laughing all the while. Only in that moment did Benn seem to realise what he'd done, and then he was rushing back up onto the ship to scoop you up into his arms and smother you with kisses.

You said I love you first, many times

Despite the way he acted, and the way he'd been raised and created, you knew that Ichiji had the ability to love, somewhere inside of him. You'd seen it in the way he'd hesitate just momentarily if he thought one of his brothers was struggling in a fight, or how he'd choose to take harder battles for himself to keep them safer. The signs were small, but they were there.

He was never outright cruel to you, and that was part of why you stuck by him. He didn't want to be cruel, even though it was what he was trained to do, because a part of him cared for you as much as you did for him. "Have a good day, I love you." You said, waving Ichiji goodbye as he left your shared room for a day of work, grinning all the while.

You didn't care how many times you said it before he said it back, you didn't care if you never said it at all. Being here and happy was enough for you.

And one day, he surprised you

Judge was dead. He had been for a long while. Once he was dead, you and Reiju had been able to begin helping the Vinsmoke brothers heal. You had been the only one to stay in contact with Sanji after he left, the least painful person to talk to since you hadn't been there in his childhood - a safe way to keep an eye on his family. He'd referred you to a 'friend' of his - Trafalgar Law, who apparently was a big fan of Germa, and he was happy to help.

His devil fruit was amazing, and you happily sat back and watched as he ran diagnostic tests, and learned how the Vinsmoke brothers ticked.

"Good news," Law said, "is that you can de-program them, you were right. Bad news though, is that it's gonna take a long time. There's some sort of switch I can turn in their brains, bring back their emotions, but you'll have to teach them to be better, I'd guess. Sorry Reiju-ya, it'll be a while before your brothers are whole." He explained, but that was enough for both of you. It was possible. But then, Law followed with, "It might be easier with Ichiji-ya, since he has you." he directed at you, and that filled you with even more excitement.

You agreed for Law to do what he needed to, and after the procedure the boys slept for almost a full forty eight hours. Law wasn't surprised, or concerned, so you tried to follow his example. He checked them over when they woke, and when he confirmed that physically they were well, he bid you goodbye. This next bit was on you.

"Ichiji." You said softly, sitting beside your lover's bed, reaching out to gently take his hand. "I- I.." He trailed off, looking at you with desperation. You reached up to brush some hair from his face with a smile. "It's okay." You soothed, kissing his forehead. He had nothing to worry about with you. "No- it's not." He growled, and you took his face in both your hands. "I'll wait forever for you, love. It's okay." You soothed again. Ichiji lunged forward to passionately connect your lips, reaching out to pull you onto the bed on top of him, your knees either side of his hips. "I love you." He whispered against your lips, eyes closed against the surge of emotions. "I love you too." You whispered back, eyes brimming with the happiest kind of tears.

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots

#one piece #fanfic #writing #reader insert #sir crocodile #benn beckman #vinsmoke ichiji #crocodile x reader #benn x reader #ichiji x reader #sir crocodile x reader #benn beckman x reader #vinsmoke ichiji x reader #one piece x reader #loganwritesficlets

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silkenedstars · 4 months ago

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Blade Lineage Sinners and Love Languages

Specifically, the love languages that they prefer from their s/o.

₊✦Limbus Company | Sinners x gn!reader | Contains minor spoilers for Canto 3!!✦₊

Additional Notes: Unedited, kurokumo version should be out hopefully soon;; Also RR4 was super easy.

˚₊✦ Quality Time ✦₊˚

Yi Sang is not one for words, not anymore. His heart had gone cold from the bitterness of that day and yearned for revenge. He would keep everyone at an arm's length, so long as it meant that he would achieve his goal one day.

However, one thing that he could never deny himself was your presence.

Though he might not be one for affection – not that he minded if you were to initiate it – and certainly not one for gifts, he could never deny the way your presence would soothe his wounded heart whenever you joined him on his patrols.

Listening to your voice was calming. Listening to you rambling about any matter would, more often than not, ease him into a rest without nightmares haunting him.

If the two of you weren't fugitives, if neither of you had joined the Blade Lineage, if the Blade Lineage didn't fall apart as badly as it had, then Yi Sang would've loved to take you to his hometown for a trip. The two of you walking side by side silently and taking in the nature around you would be the ideal way for Yi Sang to show his appreciation towards you, but alas, those days would never become a reality.

The most he could offer were those patrols you joined him for, and for the time being, that was enough.

Perhaps, in the distant future, he'd get the chance to take you to his hometown.

✿❀✿

˚₊✦ Gift Giving ✦₊˚

Faust kept every single item that you gave her inside a safe.

It didn't matter to her if the item was an expensive jewel that cost you a leg and an arm to buy, it didn't matter to her if it was something you spent days making just for her, nor did it matter if it was something you saw off the side of the road and decided to bring back to her for a variety of reasons.

Every single second you spent thinking about her was a precious second. Each one filled with beauty that was dedicated to her.

This kind of affection was a treasure, for sure. Faust might not be able to reciprocate your feelings besides offering you her presence and a cup of tea, but she would gladly offer her life if it meant that you got to live, even if it was just a second longer.

If there was a kind of gift she prefered over the others you gave her, though, then it would have to be the accessories as well as the rare outfits that you got her.

It was a shame that she couldn't wear them– the accessories in fear of them getting stolen the moment of her death, and the outfits in fear of ruining them with blood and cuts. But if she could, then she wouldn't hesitate to flaunt them around; showing others how much your cared for her and how she was yours.

It was a nice thought, but one that she couldn't make reality.

So for now, they'd stay in her safe where no one could take them away.

✿❀✿

˚₊✦ Physical Touch ✦₊˚

Don adored it when your fingers trailed over her battle scars.

She loved it even more when you kissed each and every single one of them.

Someone as great as you showing her affection via the scars that were her pride and joy?

She thanked every fixer in the City for allowing this to happen to her, swearing to repay their blessings – and your affection, of course – as much as she could.

And repay, she did.

Putting on her most chivalrous act, every morning she'd greet you right outside your room; kneeling down before you and bringing your hand to her lips for a brief kiss, giddily waiting for your reaction.

She refused to leave your side, offering you help with every single little thing. It wasn't because Don thought you wouldn't be able to do these things yourself, no, but because she so desperately wanted to be your knight and help you as much as she could.

The one thing she loved offering the most was her blade.

Not just because she loved fighting for you, as a chivalrous knight would for royalty, but also because of the way you'd treat her after a battle.

She melted each time your calloused and scarred hands cupped her face in them, nearly squishing her cheeks as you praised and scolded her at the same time.

She gushed over the way you nursed her wounds for battles when she was especially careless.

And she swooned over the way you'd kiss her cheeks and call her your knight, so much so that she wouldn't be able to stop thinking or gushing about it for days straight.

✿❀✿

˚₊✦ Physical Touch ✦₊˚

Meursault was so, so tired.

Between the Kurokumo Clan that effortlessly cornered them and the occasional assassins sent by S Corp, Meursault had been completely exhausted. He couldn't take a small break either, not when it could mean death for every single person depending him.

So it meant that much more whenever you hugged him while he was working, or when you cuddled him during the few moments of rest that he got. The warmth of your body was soothing, and he never had it himself to not wrap an arm around you and pull you close.

Holding you in his arms was the best way for him to relax and get back to planning with a clear head and fresh perspective. And if you were to help him plan things? All the better.

The only problem was that his neutral expression seemed to scare you away from being affectionate, and him trying to smile seemed to make things worse for some reason.

Oh, Wings, how could he solve this little issue?

✿❀✿

˚₊✦ Words of Affirmation ✦₊˚

To claim that Sinclair knew what he was doing would be nothing short of a lie.

He had no clue what he was doing, especially not in the battlefield where something seemed to overtake him; leaving him confused, scared and filled with doubts whenever it left his body.

So he appreciated it so, so much when you reassured him.

You didn't compliment him like the other members did after a battle, instead easing his fears and telling him that he wasn't a senseless murderer like his irrational mind said he was.

Despite being the obvious, those words meant so much to him.

And so did your smiles and the way you said "you can do it!" or "you'll be okay!", they all meant, so, so much.

When he first joined the Blade Lineage, he used to be so meek; too blinded by his revenge for Kromer to realize what exactly he had become a part of, and too much of a scaredy cat to leave when he saw what he was capable of in his first battle.

Had it not been for you and your soothing words, he didn't know where he'd be right now. Making the same mistake he did with Kromer, probably.

But he had you now, you and your soothing words. Every time he hesitated, you were there to encourage him. Every time he doubted himself, you were there to reassure him. Every time he needed you, you were there for him.

That was all he needed.

...Well that and the way you'd squish his cheeks whenever you thought he looked cute.

✿❀✿

˚₊✦ Acts of Service ✦₊˚

Outis had been stuck doing things that others were telling her to do for so long, so it came as a surprise when she woke up one morning to find a breakfast already prepared for her.

At first, she was uncomfortable, demanding to learn who it was that decided to make her breakfast, and stammering a little when she found out it was you. While taking care of others wasn't a task that bothered her that much, she knew full well how much energy and effort it took to do exactly that. It was a thankless job more often than not, and sometimes way more difficult than it needed to be. Not to mention that someone being in the exact position as she used to be was upsetting, even if she didn't show it much.

However, the moment she realized that you were doing this as a way to show your affection as opposed to seeing this as a chore you had to do, her tune quickly changed.

What started as breakfest in bed turned into you helping her with her chores, and while she told you off at times to make sure you got rest, she appreciated every little thing you did for her and she made sure to thank you for every one of them.

If you ever needed her, she'd be right there, be it for something big or small.

You got gravely injured during your last battle and need someone to nurse you back to health? No problem, she'll gladly help you.

You need to get something from a shelf that you can't reach? No problem, she'll get it for you.

You want someone to hold your hand because you don't want to get lost in a crowded area? No problem, she'll just carry you.

She might get a little overbearing, but she's doing it to repay your love for her; to let you know that she'll be there for you if you ever need someone. She means well, even if her smile makes her look like she's scheming your downfall.

✿❀✿

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ennn · 13 days ago

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Rio not being the “black heart” in the note is OK

You may be upset or disappointed given Schaeffer’s answer in the most recent The Wrap interview on Ep 6 that Billy is the intended "black heart" of Lilia's note, not Rio.

It's okay. It's cool. This isn't a betrayal. I understand this can be aggravating if it ruins your headcanons, but let's keep in mind:

The names of the note are about the coven Agatha can/should gather to walk the Road according to Lilia's premonition, presumably people with a strong enough desire or desperation to walk the Road. If the Road's as dangerous as it's said to be, obviously not every witch will want to! Also we have absolutely have no idea how Lilia's premonitions work at the moment... are they from her? Influenced by her? From Fate? I mean, Future!Lilia is not gonna want a coven with Rio in it for obvious reasons...

Schaeffer also mentions in the interview that "witchcraft is not mathematical. Witchcraft is so much about intention. It is so elusive." Which kinda explains why they were able to bring poor Sharon Davis onto the Road with them? You can still do things even without a perfect coven.

When told by Agatha in ep 4 that she's "too early", Rio replied "well it wasn't up to me" implying that she either didn't know Agatha was on the Road or she would have waited for Agatha to be done (one way or another) before she showed up again. That said, Rio's pretty happy to be there when they unintentionally summon her.

Rio really hasn't been participating in the Road trials! She's content to be along for the ride and make heart eyes at the ex she absolutely isn't over and wait for some bodies to claim. Rio's having much fun as possible now she's there – probably more fun than anyone else on the Road right now – but she is as Agatha describes in Ep 4, "a tourist".

Nothing about this negates what Rio said about her black heart and her feelings towards Agatha. That was after all the connection the show wanted viewers to originally make. They wanted to remind viewers of this relationship and its effect on Agatha even when Rio wasn't around.

Having Death in your coven is kinda OP

If it helps I'm willing to bet we'll get more Rio next episode and definitely in the last two eps of the season, with things really kicking into high dramatic gear.

#agatha all along #agathario #agatha all along spoilers #tv: agatha all along #aaa meta

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wordsarelife · 6 months ago

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞 (𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢'𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲)

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: the line between lust and hate is awfully slim between theo and you, resulting in something that changes everything between the two of you

warnings: (like massive) spoilers for the great gatsby, mentions of sex, cursing, let me know if i missed anything else

notes: i’m just gonna quickly leave this here hehe

previous part | masterlist | next part

monday felt like you had woken up in a different world. cursed legacy had made it their personal task to spend their time with you, much to yours and theo’s dismay.

they treated you like you were their friend again and while you had to admit that you didn't hate that, you still hated theo and being their friend meant being in his presence the entire time.

it started during math-, when enzo and mattheo decided to sit down in between april and you. leaving no other option but for their friends to follow behind them,- and reached it’s peak during english.

it was the only class that mattered to you, like really mattered to you. you knew it did to theo too, so you couldn’t understand how he had to ruin everything. atleast all had gone great, until the end. then all hell had broken loose.

"okay, we don't have too much time left" mrs walker said with a look to the clock "but i do have one last question: do you think daisy and mr gatsby should've ended up together?"

you raised your hand and mrs walker nodded. "yes, y/n?"

"i don't think so" you said honestly "i don't think they should've been involved with each other in the first place. i get that she had a shitty husband and she should've definitely left him, but she was at fault for everything that went wrong in gatsby's life and her loved her too much to realize that"

"thank you" mrs walker nodded before she gave the word to theo.

you turned your head in surprise. you hadn't even noticed him raising his hand. honstely, you had thought that he didn't even read the book in the first place.

"i disagree" he said.

"what a wonder" you muttered under you breath.

"daisy was everything he always wanted. she was the green light at the end of the peer and he might've been blinded by love, but isn't that what love is about? being so blinded that you would do anything for your person?"

you raised your eyebrows and send a look in theo's direction. you noticed that draco was wearing a similiar look as his eyes glided back and fourth between theo and the book in his hands, probably wondering if they had read the same story.

"sorry" you raised your arm "you could be right, but your're not"

mattheo beside you snorted.

"gatsby threw everything away for a woman that loved him for a short while before she went back to another man. he could've easily found someone better"

"maybe he didn't want to" theo was talking to you directly now "maybe it was enough for him to love her from afar"

"then he could've stayed on his fucking side of the lake" you argued "instead he threw these gigantic parties, just hoping for one single person to show up. is that what it is to you? having an unhealthy obsession with something that could lead to your death and calling it love?"

theo's chair scrapped over the floor when he stood up. you could see the anger in his eyes and stood up from your chair as well.

"you don't know what you're talking about" theo was not far from screaming "he loved her because she wasn't easy. he loved because being with her meant not knowing what's to come, because being with her meant to never grow bored"

"that's what you took from this story?" you laughed in disbelief "did we read the same book?" you caught blaise and draco hecticly turning pages as if they were asking themselves the same thing. enzo and april exchanged glances and the smirk on mattheo's face died.

"because i read a book in which a foolish man spends his entire time obsessing over a woman who doesn't love him, atleast not as much as he loves her and later he dies, because he wants to save her and she doesn't even bat an eye, before she goes back to her husband"

"she had no other choice" theo screamed.

"she had plenty of choices, theo" you screamed back.

"stop! the both of you!" mrs walker screamed.

all eyes turned to her. theo and you sank down in your seats defeated.

"both of you, detention" mrs walker said, right before the bell rang out.

you sighed as you packed up your things and grabbed the detention slip from her, before you left the room.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

detention was not the kind of activity you would normally choose to do during your day, but here you were, holding a cleaning cloth and a bucket, while theo was holding the broom. you were standing in one of the classrooms, that hadn’t been used for these past few years.

"alright" mr platt clapped his hands. he was a bit too excited about your detention, particulary because he had a one sided feud with theo, who was always a bit too sassy in the janitors eyes. "you're gonna clean this entire room. you have two hours-" he was interrupted by his ringing phone, which he picked up as he walked away from the both of you.

"this is all your fault" you whispered.

theo huffed. “that’s rich”

“is it?” you wondered “because it’s always you that has to ruin everything”

“calm down, pixie” theo shook his head “i thought you were smarter than this”

“i have to admit i thought you were too, but then you proved me wrong in english and here we are”

“shut the fuck-“

mr platt turned back around and both you and theo put on an innocent smile.

“i have to get a few things for the school banket next week. do you think you’ll be fine on your own?” he looked more in your direction than in theo’s.

“of course, don’t worry, mr platt” you smiled and the janitor nodded relieved.

“alright, i will be back in two hours” he walked out of the room and theo turned his head to you.

“don’t worry, mr platt” he mocked in a high pitched voice. you rolled your eyes, before you slapped him with your cloth.

“come on, just start sweeping already”

to your annoyance and ultimately not to your surprise, theo sat down on one of the tables. “i’m not cleaning anything”

“mr platt just said—“

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, pixie” he smiled “but i don’t really listen to the things mr pratt says”

you were ready to start fighting, until you remembered how you had gotten into this situation in the first place. this was your first detention and you would make sure that it would also stay the last.

you mindlessly started cleaning the tables around the room. when you were done with that, you filled the bucket with fresh water and cleaned the cloth in the sink until it was spotless again. then you walked across the room to take the broom.

"what are you doing?" theo pulled the broom away from you, when you tried to grab it.

"i'm doing what you should've done" you crossed your arms "i'm not gonna get in more trouble, because of you"

"i'm not giving it to you" theo said and you raised your brows.

"why do you even care? you're not gonna do it? okay, fine" you shrugged "but someone has to"

"it's not your fucking problem, pixie" theo pulled the broom further back "you did your task"

"why are you always so stubborn?" you tried to reach around him, but he pushed you back with his other hand "just give it to me"

"no" the bratty smile on his face made your blood boil.

in a few seconds of uncontrollable anger, you took the bucket, ready to drench him in the cold water you had just filled it up with. "give me the broom" you said once again, as if to give him a last chance.

"you wouldn't dare"

"oh i would" you nodded.

theo stayed unmoving and you raised the bucket from the ground, so that it was now hanging in the air between you. but theo was faster than you. he let go of the broom (which fell to the ground with a thud) before he ripped the bucket out of your hands, making water slip over the edge and directly onto your shirt.

"you fucking idiot!" you screamed, and turned away from the boy, once theo had put the bucket down on the table behind him.

"i actually did not mean to do that" he laughed "but it's pretty fucking funny"

"shut up" you started patting your chest with the cloth in an attempt to dry the water stain on your shirt. you did only make it worse.

you could hear theo giggle behind your back and swerved around, before you threw the cloth in his face. he was not as happy anymore when he took the cloth off his face and let it fall to the ground.

"what did you just do?"

you shrugged your shoulders "not like you didn't deserve that"

he stepped slowly closer "repeat that. i dare you"

you stepped back and he followed. your back hit the wall and he came closer.

"you deserved that" you muttered as you looked up at him. you could feel his hot breath on your cheek and thought about just pushing him back and slipping away, but you honestly doubted that you were stronger than him.

"you're very brave sweetheart" he smiled sarcastically.

you laughed humorless. "i fucking hate you"

theo smiled and the eye contact intensified.

"looks like you're having the hots for me now"

"fuck you, theo"

your breath hitched when he quickly pushed his lips against yours. it took you a second, but then you pulled him closer by his shirt, deepening the kiss.

theo's lips brushed against yours and you melted into his kiss, surrendering to the passion that consumed you both.

the kiss was like a storm, fierce and consuming, yet filled with a tenderness that left you breathless.

you had only kissed him once before, back when you were children. back when kissing was something disgusting and didn't make you feel the things you were feeling right now.

you whimpered when he pulled your head to the side with his hand and started kissing your neck.

"i loathe you" he muttered between kisses "but you look so fucking hot in that wet shirt"

you smiled triumphantly and saw your opportunity to push him backwards, away from the wall and to the teachers table. you connected your lips again, as you turned around and climbed on to the table. he stepped between your opened legs and rested his hands on your thighs as he moaned.

you gripped the hem of his shirt, he stepped back and helped you to pull it off, before you repeated the same process with your shirt. your hands pressed to his chest, while he kissed you and unhooked your bra.

you weren't proud of the things that happened next. and especially not of where it had happened.

when it was over, theo looked almost as regretful as you did.

"this was a mistake" you muttered, as he pulled down your shirt and gently fixed your hair. you weren't used to this side of him, not anymore. but even if you said the exact opposite, your were yearning for him.

"yeah" he nodded and then he frowned "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have-"

"-no, it's alright" you shook your head. this was worse than before, it was uncomfortable and awkward. you would've preferred him yelling at you, but the room grew silent as neither o you said a word.

"we can never do this again" he whispered, but it sounded more like he was telling it to himself.

"i know"

"and we can't tell anyone about this"

"i know"

"we're not good for each other" he said finally.

you wanted to say something, anything. it was like everything between you had just died with a simple touch. you almost missed the tension, because now there was just nothing. you tried to reach for his arm, but before you could do or say anything else, the door opened and theo stepped back from you.

"looks alright" mr platt nodded, once he had given the room a look. "you can go" he held the door open so you could walk through.

"bye" you said and mr platt nodded. "theo" you called, but the boy only quickened his step and left you standing alone in the entryhall of the school.

you sighed, before you decided that theo was right, you should just forget about everything that had happened. your relationship with him had not been anything else than hate lately and you had to admit he was right, it would never work, you weren't good for each other.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

the shift in atmosphere did not go unnoticed by april or the rest of the boys. atleast not until the next saturday when she was spending the day with enzo and matt, chilling in their parent's basement before they head to the rehearsal later.

"have you noticed that theo and y/n have been acting weird lately?" april asked "i mean y/n's been totally denying it, but it's weird right?"

"for sure" mattheo nodded with big eyes "i'm glad you said something, i was dying to ask you"

"isn't that kind of normal?" enzo wondered "i mean for them to be weird?"

"you're not getting it the way we are!" mattheo criticized.

"okay, sorry" enzo raised his hands laughing until mattheo and april send him a look.

"i honestly always thought they would end up together" april admitted "and of course i hated the way their friendship evolved to constantly fighting with each other, but at least that was something. now they aren't even talking to each other"

"right?" mattheo pointed at the red-head "i always thought they were in love with each other, but then she dated that scumbag and leo, well" he left the sentence unfinished and the mood shifted.

"i thought the same" april patted mattheos shoulder. “i think what they have yet to realize is that everything that is between them is not hate, it’s sadness”

mattheo nodded and april could see that he was getting sad too. they both felt helpless, like they couldn’t do what they were supposed to do as best friends to theo and you.

all while enzo found it a bit weird how serious mattheo and april were talking about your relationship with theo. it didn't even concern them, yet they were so... concerned.

"it's not really our problem is it?" enzo tried gently.

the looks he received made him shut up immediately.

"they belong together, enz" his brother exclaimed with a roll of his eyes "they just don't know it yet"

"yeah" april nodded "that's what they have us for" she pointed between her and mattheo.

"but you still like me more than him, right?" enzo joked.

april and mattheo started laughing and enzo joined in hesitantly. "not right now, though"

enzo's laughter died down as he send his soon-to-be-girlfriend a betrayed look.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

when the three arrived at the rehearsal, theo and you were already there, setting up the instrument and sorting notes.

"woah" blaise said when he and draco entered the garage after mattheo, april and enzo. "it's cold in here"

you send him an aggravated look, before you just rolled your eyes and continued to turn the pages of your notes.

"did something happen?" draco whispered in the direction of april.

the girl shook her head, before mattheo took it upon himself to inform draco about the newest form of relationship between theo and you.

"haven't you noticed?" he muttered not exactly quiet, but you acted like you couldn't hear him. "they've been acting like this all week"

"really?" blaise asked surprised, before he thought for a second "wait, no, now that you say it, it has been a really peaceful week." his eyes fell upon you "too peaceful"

"hey, y/n" draco called and you looked up "i think theo put down the wrong cable for you again"

"oh" you looked down to confirm that he was right "that not a problem, i'll just quickly change it" you walked around theo, without even acknowledging him and draco looked like he had lost his mind.

april elbowed enzo, who shrieked, but then quickly caught the hint. "theo, ehh" he thought for a second "did you talk to y/n about those notes she needs to play differently in cheap wine?"

theo shook his head, before he turned around to look at you. "you have to play two c-chords and then the a-chord"

"got it" you nodded.

enzo and april exchanged a look. enzo looked to his older brother helplessly, who looked as lost as he rest of his friends. he had no idea what else to say, before it quickly dawned on him. he had to force a reaction out of theo and what better way to do that than compliment you? an insult from theo wouldn't be far.

"you look really good today" mattheo said "i like the way you styles your hair"

"thank you" you smiled.

"theo?" blaise asked as the boy didn't react.

"huh?" theo looked up from the cables he had been sorting "eh, yeah i agree"

both you and theo returned to your respective work while the rest of your friends exchanged looks without you noticing.

"theo, i said y/n looks good today"

"i'm aware" theo nodded "i can hear you, you know?"

"we would love to hear your input" mattheo further encouraged.

"you're acting fucking weird today" and to all their shock, you and theo were now exchanging glances as if they were the ones behaving weirdly.

blaise huffed and mattheo and april crossed their arms silmutaneously.

draco seemed to have had enough of the way you were acting. "stop fucking acting this way! can't you just make up or something? or at least get back to hating each other?" he was close to tears.

blaise rubbed draco's shoulder. "see, what you're doing to him. his parents are divorced"

"okay?" you asked confused "i don't see what that has to do with us, though"

"what's going on?" april asked gently "did something happen? you had this until someone cries mentally, well, did someone cry?"

"no" you shook your head "theo and i are just mature enough, that we decided to stop fighting"

"bullshit" draco screamed from blaise's arms. "you're always fighting, even before you hated each other."

you looked in the direction of theo and thought about what he had said to you in that classroom. he had been right, you weren't good to each other, even before you had been at each other's throats constantly. all of it had been so obvious that even your friends had noticed it.

"would you rather have us fighting again?" theo asked with raised brows "we were going nowhere with this"

"you're not even talking to each other" mattheo muttered.

"we are" you shook your head as if you couldn't believe what he was saying "we just did it like a minute ago"

"can we please start rehearsing now?" theo asked and all of you could feel the annoyance radiating off his body. the boys nodded, giving in without further discussion.

you could still feel april's eyes lingering on you. she didn't believe a word you had said.

even if you tried to ignore it, what your friends had said stuck with you. you knew that theo was thinking about it too.

after the rehearsal you stayed longer.

"we have to stop acting his way" you said as soon as the two of you were alone. "they will find out if we don't"

"i know" theo sighed and it was the biggest reaction you had gotten from him all week. it kind of pained you to admit that you missed your fighting, but something in you clearly did.

"can't you just fight with me? just do something so we go back to normal"

"i can't" theo admitted "i can’t still scream at you, after-"

"after we had sex" you interrupted. he had been dancing around what happened all week, you were tired of not calling it what it was.

"it should've never happened"

"i know!" you said loudly "and i agree, but this is not the solution we need. we can't go back in time, theo, we can do nothing to change it."

"yeah, but i can do as much as possible to make sure it won't ever happen again"

"why are you so bothered by all of this?" you asked frustrated "it was just sex, it was a one time thing, what makes it different? it's just like any other one night stand"

"no it's not"

"then tell me what it is!" you were screaming now "because i'm tired of playing a game i don't want to be a part of! you confuse me"

"can i kiss you?" theo asked and you had almost screamed from shock.

"what?" you asked instead. "theo!"

"i'm- sorry, i just-"

"okay, kiss me" he did not wait for you to tell him twice, before he had already walked closer and pressed his lips against yours.

you really had to stop doing this. well, after this time.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

you continued to come to the rehearsal three times a week over the following weeks. the more time you spent in the old loft, the more it felt like everything was slowly going back to normal.

your friends couldn't explain what had happened, but theo and you had started interacting normally again, having your occasional fight, but being friendlier than ever.

even if they found it weird, they accepted it. they were just happy you were talking to each other again.

april had tried to find out what had been going and between you and the boy, but you had stayed strong, not revealing your secret to her, even if she was your best friend.

you were joking with the boys, the forced friendly gestures you used to exchange were long gone and it was no longer uncomfortable to just sit around when you were taking a break.

mattheo told stories of enzo and their vacation in spain, how they had gone snorkeling and how enzo had lost his trunks in the water, making all of you break out into loud laughter.

each of you shared memories of a time where you had not spoken to the others, as if you had to catch up. and it felt good.

even theo had to admit it did. it had been easier than he thought to be civil. he had been sure he was having a stroke, but as soon as he started to act nice, you did too and after everything that had happened between you both these past few days he was honestly just glad.

it was another saturday when you were once again rehearsing. you had gone through the entire setlist (except for daddy issues, theo had said that it was way too slow to play) and now only had to play eight pack of cigarettes, which was one of your favorite tracks to play, especially because it had a guitar solo in it.

you had spent much time learning the solo and enzo had been of great help, teaching you like a proud parent, even if he was younger than you.

the song began slow, theo started singing as the guitar played slow, while the other instruments stayed silent.

in the glow of street lights, underneath the city's haze, you found me in the darkest nights, lost in a nicotine haze.

the drums set in just a second after, making the heavy rock of the song shine through clearly. shortly after that followed mattheo, strumming the bass. draco only joined at the chorus.

eight packs of cigarettes, burned through these lonely nights, trying to drown out regrets, but you're still in my head.

the solo came just after the brige and both enzo and april watches excitedly how you plaed it so effortlessly. theo watched you and he couldn't help the proud smile settling on his face.

in the haze of smoke and dreams, i'll keep searching for some reprieve, but until then, I'll keep the smoke, eight packs of cigarettes full of hope.

the song ended with the last note of draco's keyboard. you admired how they could go from a full on rock song, to a slow and almost sad outro.

you helped theo to unplug the instruments. draco and blaise said their goodbyes pretty soon, walking out of the garage mumbling something about a new videogame, mattheo was close behind them.

enzo and april exchanged a look, before he threw his not broken arm around her shoulder.

"we're going to the cinema" enzo exclaimed when he noticed your questioning gaze.

"okay" you smiled as you send april a look. 'call me later' you mouthed, before you watched them walk out to april's car.

"y/n" theo said to gain your attention "thank you for helping us, really, i appreciate it"

"it's not a problem" you smiled "just, why did you ask me? i know that you can play, you didn't need me"

"you're way better" he smiled "my heart also belongs to the acoustic guitar and it's way more fun to move freely on stage"

you rolled your eyes laughing at his dumb reasons, but nodded understandingly anyway. "can i also ask you something?"

theo raised his brows "sure"

"did you write daddy issues to hurt me?"

"i understand why you might think i did" theo muttered "but back then, no" he admitted "i wrote it for you to listen to whenever you felt like that. i thought about not putting it on the album after everything that happened, but i wrote it for both of you and leo had made me promise"

"typical" you laughed "he demands something and once he leaves everything goes to shit"

"i'm sorry i made you play it" theo muttered.

"it's alright" you took the acoustic guitar from the couch and held it in his direction. "can you do something else for me? could you play it for me? the way you intended it to be played?"

he nodded and took the guitar from your hand before he sat down across from you. he softly stroked the chords and the words that were coming out of his mouth didn't feel like they were supposed to hurt you, they felt gentle, like a hug.

gentle, like the days you had spent up in the treehouse, crying in his lap as he stroked your hair the same way he was now stroking the chords.

go ahead and cry, little girl nobody does it like you do i know how much it matters to you i know that you got daddy issues and if you were my little girl i'd do whatever I could do i'd run away and hide with you i know that you got daddy issues

he played softly, almost cautious, as if he wanted to fix you with his singing alone. he ended the song and you couldn't help but smile at him, even if tears were running over yours cheeks. he put the guitar down and sat next to you on the couch.

"why did you ask me to do that?"

"because i don't want to think of the song as something bad…not anymore" you explained as you wiped your tears away. "not when leo didn't intend it to be"

"he loved it" theo said softly "made him cry like a baby"

"because you're so good at writing" you laughed.

"no" theo shook his head "he cried because of you, because i think for the first time he could really understand how you felt"

"thank you" you said.

"nothing to thank me for" theo smiled softly.

"do you want to hear a secret?" you asked. you knew not everything between you was normal again, but you trusted him enough and right now, there in the garage, was a time where safety was all around you.

"sure" theo nodded and watched you expectingly. you turned your head to look at him.

"i haven't spoken to my dad in a year" you admitted.

"oh" theo breathed surprised. "why not?"

"i don't really know" you shrugged, it wasn't the whole truth, but you were not at the point of telling whole truths yet "but i think it's alright, i don't think there's anything we could still say to each other"

"i'm sorry"

you shrugged "it is what it is, right?" you tried to smile, but theo shook his head.

"it shouldn't be like this"

"it's not like i can miss anything" you shrugged and theo frowned.

"it's just unfair. i'm sorry, y/n"

"where did pixie go?"

"i thought you hated when i called you that"

"i did" you smiled lopsided "but now i kinda miss her"

"do you ever know what you want?" theo laughed and you shrugged, while you shook your head. he looked at his phone, to check the time. "are you free tonight?"

"sure, why?"

"a friend of mine is throwing a party and his band is playing, i promised to come, do you maybe want to accompany me?"

you shrugged "it's not like i have anything better to do, so why not?"

"i feel honored that you spend time with me nonetheless, pixie" theo smiled and you mirrored his expression. for the first time in a while his nickname for you did not sound malicious.

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galaxy-fleur · 2 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ Thoughtful Care ˎˊ˗

Pairing: RE2R!Leon/gn!reader. Summary: After escaping the hell on Earth that was Racoon City, you are now stuck in a dingy motel room that will be your safe haven for the time being. As you and your little group try to get your bearings together, you get a chance to spend some much-needed alone time with Leon after your eventful night together. As it turns out, tending to one's wounds is a more intimate experience than you thought. Word Count: <17k words; AO3 link. Notes: One use of Y/N, switching POV, some mutual pining, kissing, you take care of Leon's wounds, brief discussion of Ada, Claire and Sherry cameo. Credit: divider by @/saradika-graphics.

Life is a mysterious thing. You haven't ever considered yourself to be someone particularly special. You were always just an ordinary person, with a pretty ordinary life, and ordinary problems someone your age would typically be dealing with. You never once thought of that as something worthy being upset about. Being ordinary meant having your life in order. It meant that your daily routine was comfortable for you. Pleasant. Safe. Small daily problems that keep your mind occupied are really not appreciated enough. There is a very fragile feeling of peace in worrying over not being late to work tomorrow, or what to buy for lunch.

A very fragile feeling of peace that was forever broken for you in a single, horrible night.

You definitely never anticipated yourself to end up in the middle of some deadly outbreak straight out of a horror movie. Sure, you may have joked around with friends on how you would do in a horror story once or twice, but that was the extent of it. Jokes. Make-belief. You can indulge in fantasies about anything while you are safe and sound, however insane those fantasies may be. It's a completely different story when you are suddenly forced to shoot someone who is neither dead nor alive.

There were some that you even recognized.

A cute baker boy you remember complimenting on his new haircut during your visit to Racoon City a few months back.

A young teacher fresh out of college who shared many meaningful conversations with you near the Orphanage.

An elderly neighbor you once helped cross the street, after which he kindly invited you for tea next time you'll come to visit.

A promise that was never to be fulfilled now. And realizing that you would probably end up among them if you didn't move out of the city was... chilling, to say the least.

Racoon City, once a place of many fond memories for you, has now become nothing but a living, gruesome nightmare that you will likely never forget. A part of you still wonders how you even managed to keep yourself alive through it all in the first place. But, somehow, you did. In part, due to a very fortunate encounter with a rookie cop who seemed to have arrived in the city not long after you. You barely spent a day in there, yet it felt like a lifetime. But despite everything fate threw your way, you two remained united, only briefly forced apart from each other, but ultimately rejoined again.

At the end of the day, it felt good to at least not be alone in this. To know that someone has your back. Heck, even simply having someone there to talk to made things just a tiny bit easier. Navigating the blood-stained corridors of the ruined Police Station on your own would have made you lose your mind for sure.

Survival is not a pretty nor heroic endeavor. You've lost people. In fact, you'd say that you've lost way more than you've saved. Your heart has been permanently stained by witnessing so much senseless death and violence in such a short time. At least you have shared this awful stain with Leon. And it's always easier to share a burden than to carry it alone.

In the end, while you didn't achieve anything world-changing or save the city, you managed to escape together, relatively safe and sound. Despite being battered, covered in blood and grime, you two at least have the privilege of living another day. One that not many share, sadly.

You even managed to reunite with a pair of other survivors along the way - Claire and Sherry - who clearly had their own stories of shared survival to tell. So, you all made the decision to stick together from then on. Each of the four of you with their own scars to bear, whether physical or mental.

Tired, and a bit lost on what to do next, you all decided to spend the day at the nearest shabby motel. To get some much-needed rest before deciding on what to do next. Not the most ideal of places, but after the night you had, a clean bed to sleep in and a safe room with no metallic stench of blood clinging to your nostrils, was more than enough to feel relieved. Although it was rather cramped with all four of you huddling to share the compact space you've been given. But it was also an undeniable source of comfort to not be alone. Furthermore, your body was so utterly exhausted that you couldn't really afford to be picky.

In fact, you're pretty sure that you blacked out as soon as your head hit the pillow. All four of you shared that same sentiment, it seems. You all slept through the entire day and most of the night, your drained minds and bodies hungry for precious hours of peace and safely.

When next morning came, Claire went out with Sherry to get breakfast for you all from the nearest diner, while you and Leon stayed back together in the motel. It was definitely... strange. It was strange to share so much with someone you've only met about about a day ago. Though, considering that you spent the entirely of the last day sleeping, it pretty much felt like yesterday. You met Leon having no prior knowledge of him whatsoever. He wasn't even from Racoon City. You couldn't have known him if you've tried. Yet, the shared experience of survival side by side made you feel closer to him than to some of your friends back home.

Human minds work in mysterious ways.

So, here you are now, stuck all alone with Leon, for the first time since you reunited with Claire on the train. To avoid any unwanted awkwardness, you decide to break the silence at last.

"So...How'd you sleep?"

With a small yawn, Leon stirs in his bed and shifts onto his side. He slept the longest out of all you. Knocked out cold and waking up only approximately ten or so minutes ago. He's still rubbing at his bleary eyes, clearly not fully awake despite his efforts to appear alert for you. Given that he was also the one in the worst shape among you all, no one really blamed him for it. As the morning sun trickles through the shutters, light streaks across his face, painting his features into soft shades of red and yellow. It's a cute look on him, in a way. Though you don't linger on that thought too much. He examines the dimly lit room for a moment, almost like he needs a moment to remember how he got here in the first place, before his eyes settle on you standing by the window.

You kept the shutters down on purpose, to keep the morning sun away, making the room appear rather dark, aside from long stripes of bright yellow from the sunlight stubbornly peeking through. Though, it's definitely a first for you to find such comfort in a motel room, of all places.

Leon rolls over onto his back with a small, pained grunt, propping himself up slightly with his good arm. His voice is muffled and groggy as he answers, and you smile to yourself at the sound of it, stiffling a snort: "Honestly... Can't really complain. This might be the best sleep I've had in a while, all things considered."

"Well, I guess at least some of us are well-rested," you say, indirectly referring to your own rather worn out state despite the good 15 hours of sleep you got. You appreciate the cleanliness of the fresh air coming from the window for another short moment, inhaling with your full chest to fill your lungs to the brim. Compared to the foul stench of blood and rot you had grown a tolerance for now, even the somewhat dusty air from the curb felt like you were breathing on top of the cleanest mountain. But, you step away and sit back down on the other bed next to Leon's, leaning back on your palms comfortably. "Claire and Sherry are out to get us all some breakfast. We decided not to wake you."

Leon sits up and gently stretches out his shoulders, wincing slightily at the motion. No wonder, considering the huge, bloody bandage wrapped around his shoulder. Despite your effort to appear nonchalant, he quickly recognizes the weariness etched onto your features, and looks over at you with a genuinely sympathetic expression from what you could tell.

You look away, disappointed that he somehow read you like a book.

It's bizarre, having someone you had basically just met feel so relaxed with you. Usually, it takes you at least a few weeks to develop this level of friendliness with someone. Then again, not like you go through what you went through the night before with everybody. After all, you already knew that Leon was good. There was no need to be cautious around him. None that you knew of, at least. That, and he seemed way more outspoken than you, anyway. A bit too trusting and naive, too. Especially for a cop.

"What about you? You didn't sleep too well or something?" Leon asks with a hint of trepidation in his voice. While a part of you is still a bit annoyed at his keen perception of you, you suppose you can't really blame him either. Given that he's likely dealing with the same thing you do.

Though, despite all that happened, he and Claire were much more optimistic than you.

Either way, you give him a small, dismissive shrug and run your hand over your hair, your nose wrinkling at the unpleasant feel of it. It's dry and matted under your touch. Even with your best efforts to get yourself back into shape yesterday, your hair was still far from its ideal state. Not like you had access to your usual haircare products in here. You probably still look rather messy. You also find yourself wondering if you'll have to get a trim on it when you go back home. Maybe this whole ordeal was the universe's twisted way of telling you to get a change of style or something.

Leon gaze is still trained on you, his eyes peering straight into your soul. That's how it felt, at least. No matter how hard you try, the weary look in your eyes and slight sag in your shoulders are the dead giveaway that you are, indeed, still tired. But he doesn't address the issue. Much to your relief.

"Eh, I'm fine. I got some sleep," your response is somewhat aloof, and you know it. But your lack of sleep isn't your only worry here, after all. "I'm glad you got some rest, though."

"Yeah... I sure needed it," Leon sighs softly, tracing the white bandage on his shoulder with his fingers.

Your gaze, too, shifts to the blood-stained bandage over his shoulder as you look over at him. You're a bit curious whether he was tracing it more due to his overall unease or because he was reminiscing about the very person who had put it on him in the first place.

Leon notices your stare on his shoulder, and his fingers stop their movements, almost like he's a bit embarrassed of it. As he looks back up at you, his expression is a perfect blend of exhaustion and contemplation. A somewhat awkward moment of silence passes, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

"...How are you holding up?" you coax, your voice a bit quieter than usual, much to your own surprise.

Geez, you didn't mean to sound so worried.

"I'm... managing," he responds with a hint of fatigue in his own voice. He softly pokes at the makeshift bandage again, grimacing instantly as another dull pain throbs in his shoulder. "-It still hurts like hell though. But I guess I can't complain. Considering everything."

You let out a sigh and lean forward, resting your arms on your knees: "That's... not what I'm asking here."

In a way, you were curious why you were asking him this in the first place. Not like it's important. Or should be important. Your shared experience together did not change the fact that you and Leon were still pretty much strangers, regardless of everything. Or maybe you were being too cynical. Regardless, the absence of Claire and Sherry allowed for you two to converse with each other one on one for the first time in a rather long while. Something that you felt the need for. For a variety of reasons.

Your words cause Leon's brows to furrow slightly, be it confusion or something else. Though, it's obvious he understands what you're implying here, what you're truly asking from him. He pauses for another long moment, seemingly unsure of how to respond. You don't rush him. Letting the silence settle between you two once more, safe for the quiet hum of the air conditioner and an occasional car driving by somewhere in the distance.

Finally, he looks away from you and stares down at the cheap carpet on the floor. His expression is almost fragile as he speaks up, his eyes hinting at a hidden vulnerability he kept inside up until this point: "It's... I don't know. I just... all the people I- we couldn't save..."

You quickly recognize his potential indirect referral. Or perhaps you were already aware of it from the very beginning, simply waiting for him to get to it. After all, the urgency to escape prevented you from talking about it, the entire Nest crumbling in on itself in a blaze of fire and ashes.

No time for talking about your feelings when you are about to fucking explode, after all.

Leon trails off, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

So, you cut straight to it for him.

"...Are you thinking about her?" you murmur faintly but just loud enough for him to hear, looking directly at him. Providing a name wasn't necessary for you both to understand exactly who you were referring to here.

Ada.

As Leon glances back up at you abruptly, his blue eyes flash with surprise. It's easy to see the moment his heart drops, a pretty blatant mix of pain and guilt quickly washing over his face. Looks like you hit the jackpot after all.

He tries to speak, but then shuts his mouth once more. The look in his eyes is now one of confusion as he runs a hand through his hair frustratedly. You allow him to have his moment with no interference.

"...Yeah. I am," he finally admits, his voice almost a whisper. It's a wonder you heard him at all. With all the gunshots and explosions, you wouldn't have been surprised to find your hearing suffering greatly. He sighs heavily, his fingers twiddling together on his lap. "I... know it's probably stupid. Hell, it is stupid. To feel guilty over someone I barely even knew. Someone who..."

You sigh and lower your gaze as well. Saying things were complicated would be the same as saying nothing at all. Their final confrontation on the bridge was inaudible to you due to your distance. So, you were unaware of what was said between them. Not all of it, at least. The rumbling sounds of the Umbrella facility slowly crumbling in on itself caused everything to be drowned out to you. You didn't dare ask him about it, either.

His voice catches in his throat and he hesitates, making it obvious that it's your cue to continue now.

The judgment you made on Ada was based on what you saw from afar. That's all you could really offer him here.

"I do think she cared. About you, at least. We don't know why she did what she did. But... she didn't shoot you back there. I don't think she wanted to," you say, pursing your lips in thought as you play over what your eyes have seen. You were not aware of what Ada's last words to him were before she slipped from his grasp. But what you did see unfolding in front of you was... conflicting, to say the least.

Your words have a pretty profound effect on Leon, causing his heart to tighten in his chest with a painful pull. He understands all the implications behind them and, admittedly, he had already came to the same conclusion within himself. He just had no desire at all to actually face it and accept it. The fact that Ada's refusal to harm him to get her way was clear evidence of her allegiance. But that evidence was cruel and left him with no closure at all. Nervously, he runs his hand through his hair again, releasing a bitter laugh that felt heavy on his lungs. He is unsure whether he should be angry, sympathetic, or simply mournful towards the enigmatic woman who was such a mystery in every way, up to the very end. Perhaps he experiences all three emotions at the same time.

But you both know that if it were you standing there instead of Leon...

Ada probably wouldn't have hesitated on pulling the trigger.

He looks to you again, maybe hoping for you to give him some information he knew you couldn't give.

But you don't meet his gaze, choosing instead to look downwards, seemingly just as conflicted about this all as he is. Of course, Leon realizes that his numerous questions would remain unanswered for an indefinite period. Probaby forever. He also had to accept that you couldn't give him any answers, or closure that could potentially come with them. Ada has died, and there was no way to change that cold, hard fact. Just like there was no way to take back all the lives of countless others who were lost in those streets. Racoon City had transformed from a community of pride and hopeful future into a place of death and bloodshed, with only you, Claire, and Sherry, managing to escape it alive. That was your current understanding, at least.

It would be nice to meet other survivors. But, for now, all he could do was sigh and accept your answer, however unfair it was on his heart.

"Yeah, maybe... Maybe you're right," he mutters before falling into silence once more. His mind is racing with so many thoughts, all in conflict with one another. He is torn between his heart's desire to believe that Ada cared and the warnings of his mind to be cautious. He is uncertain about any of his emotions or thoughts at this point. He lets out another tired huff of frustration. "I just- I just wish I knew why. Why she did what she did, how much of it was real, or..."

...Or whether she cared about him at all.

"Well... at least you're safe. Let's leave it at that," your voice cuts through the dark whirlpool of thoughts in his head, turning his attention back on you. You seem to be focusing on his injured shoulder again. Perhaps in an attempt to divert the conversation, you switch the subject: "-We should really clean that up for you. It's all dirty and bloodied. Can't be good."

Leon winces as he instinctively tries to move his injured shoulder, further proving your point. He complies with a single nod, fully aware of the dire need for cleaning and proper care for the wound hidden under the worn-out bandages. Or... whatever care you could provide. At this point, anything is better than this dirty, blood-soaked thing.

"Uh, yeah. It's been a while, and it's starting to kind of..."

He stops, his face contorting in pain while he tries to move it again. His shoulder is becoming increasingly tender, and the bandage is completely stained with dark crimson blood. How much of it is his, and how much of it is of the other mutated things that used to be humans or animals he had to fight off, is unclear. Taking a deep breath, he prepares himself mentally for the miserable ordeal ahead.

This experience will not be pleasant.

That pitiful look you give him doesn't help his pride, either. Or what's left of it, anyways.

Regardless, not wanting to stall this any longer than he has to, he gingerly shifts his wounded shoulder and starts to delicately remove his police uniform with caution, taking his time. He took off his body armor the day before, leaving it stacked neatly somewhere in the far corner. Out of sight, out of mind, so to speak. Still, what was left of the dirtied police uniform on him was just as much of a reminder of the night before. He flinches involuntarily due to the fabric brushing against the bloody bandage, the pain instantly radiating from his shoulder straight to his insides.

You realize that you cannot just sit back and watch him struggle on his own, pride be damned.

"...Here. Let me help," you murmur softly as you approach him and sit next to him on the motel bed. You begin to delicately unbutton and peel off his soiled uniform from his upper body, aiming to avoid putting any unneeded discomfort on his already tender shoulder.

Leon nods quietly in response to your assistance. You're grateful he didn't make a big deal out of it. Outwardly, at least. He raises his good arm and makes an effort to shift his position, allowing you to help him in taking off what was left. "Thanks..."

You try not to think too much about the fact that you are basically undressing a cute guy you just met the day before.

With your help, you eventually succeed in removing the top portion of his uniform, leaving him in his pants and a bandage to cover his bruised skin. As he sits there, you can tell that his upper body being fully uncovered to your gaze - except for the stained bandage on his shoulder that is - is making him feel rather awkward and tense. You can't really blame him for that.

You sure would be feeling embarrassed in his place.

"...I probably look a total mess right now," Leon shoots you a somewhat nervous smile. Despite him clearly trying to make a joke, you can still hear the painfully obvious apprehension in his voice.

"Yeah, you do," you agree rather bluntly as you glance over him without crossing any inappropriate boundaries. Leon had a more fit body than you expected, which... made sense in hindsight due to his recent graduation from the Police Academy, as he told you. It was probably necessary for him to be in good shape. Although muscular, he wasn't excessively so. His body was... normal. In a good way. Decently toned, with some softness around his sides and belly. Frankly, if it wasn't for the situation at hand, you would have complimented him, but you suppress that urge as soon as it arises.

You don't need to make things even more weird between you two.

As your eyes travel up and down his body, you lock eyes with each other for a brief, awkward moment. You quickly break eye contact with the each other, almost simultaneously.

Welp, so much for not being awkward.

"Uh... Do you remember what Ada did for you exactly...?" you say instead, touching his uninjured shoulder lightly. When Leon was shot, you were not together. You missed witnessing the event directly, only reuniting with him afterwards when he already had a fresh bandage wrapped snuggly around his shoulder.

"No... I passed out after I got shot," there is a brief pause between you, and his face reflects a mixture of pain and another indescribable emotion that you can't really pinpoint clearly. Whether it's physical discomfort speaking or something else entirely, you don't know. "I woke up with it already on and her gone."

You watch him turn his attention back to his injured shoulder, where the white bandage is stained with dried blood. He gently rubs the fabric with his fingers, sensing the pain and discomfort that emanates from the fresh wound beneath. Despite everything, it's very much evident that he can't help but feel at least a small tingle of gratitude towards Ada, even though it hurts him to think about her at the moment.

"Well, since you didn't bleed out, and your arm is still somewhat usable, I'd say she did a good job," you let out a sigh and lean back slightly. Although you had previously taken a rather beneficial first aid course, you never anticipated having to actually apply those skills to treat a severe bullet wound, of all things. "...Her being a mercenary explains her way around such stuff, I guess."

Leon's eyes are still fixed on his injured shoulder as he nods. Guess he wasn't feeling very talkative for now. Not that you could blame him for that.

He runs his hand through his messy hair as you go to grab the medkit you thoughtfully prepared for the occasion, the faint sound of his fingers scratching against his scalp echoes in the room. You can only guess that his hair is probably just as dry and dirty as yours is, considering the circumstances you've just recently escaped from. On some level, it makes you feel less awkward about your own disheveled appearance in turn. It's good to know that you are all in the same boat here. Looking like a mess, and feeling like one, too.

"It sure does," he exhales somewhat bitterly, his voice filled with underlying anguish, as if he feels deeply betrayed. And he probably does. His face covered in a plethora of conflicting emotions. You feel a twinge of sympathy tugging at your heartstrings again. "I wish she could have just... been honest with me. From the start."

It appears that he is struggling to reconcile with the disparity between the person he believed he knew and the person Ada truly was.

You decide to not mention that he knew her for less than 24 hours. After all, it's evident that he's going through a difficult time as it is, and your practicality may not be of much help to him. Emotions are notoriously illogical.

It's difficult to think of a way to comfort him in the current situation.

"Well, at least you still have me, right? We made it out. And Claire, too. And Sherry." So, instead, you choose to gently rub his uninjured shoulder as a wordless show of support. "C'mon. Let's get that dirty bandage off of you. We don't want you catching an infection or something."

When you touch his shoulder again, he returns his gaze back to you, some life returning to the gentle blues of his eyes, much to your relief. Looks like your touch did the trick, as his body gradually loosens up under your palm. He gives you a small but genuine smile. "Alright, alright. Let's get this done, then. This is going to suck though..."

"Hey, it can't be as bad as actually getting shot, though, right?" you attempt to make a small joke to lighten the mood, but you instantly feel a deep sense of discomfort inside as soon as you actually speak it aloud.

Well, that sure sounded macabre.

"Uh... Sorry. That was... pretty bad."

Leon snorts out a short laugh regardless, running a hand over his face. At least you made him laugh. Though you can't help but wonder whether he laughed at your joke, or you. Probable the latter. Regardless, he takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the very probable agony of having his shoulder directly meddled with.

You both understand that it'll likely be pretty painful for him to endure, but you also understand that it is very much essential to get done. Especially since you haven't visited a hospital yet.

So, after you share a nod of mutual agreement with him, you begin to carefully remove the dirty bandage from his shoulder, taking your time to avoid causing him any unnecessary discomfort.

Besides your unfunny joke, that is.

"...Your jokes are terrible." Leon mutters under his breath, probably to distract himself a little. He winces slightly, the fabric that's already hardened now rubbing directly against the wound from your movements, which is more than uncomfortable to sit through, but not as painful as he expected. Or maybe he has just become more numb to the pain of it. "Don't be too gentle, by the way. Better to just get it over with as quickly as possible."

"I'm not about to hurry through this and potentially make it worse, sorry," you deadpan, leaving no room for doubt.

Well, so much for his hopes of getting this done quickly. Though he knows you're right there. He just really doesn't want to sit through this.

As you continue to unravel the bandage, he clenches his teeth tightly. The pain is bearable, but it's far from enjoyable. With you steadily approach the actual wound, his entire body tightens involuntarily, muscles going taut with contained tension. The actual memory of being shot is still fresh in his mind, unfortunately. Though, he tries to divert his attention away from the pain by focusing on your presence and touch instead, however dubious such a notion may be.

He can hear you release a small sigh, whether it was out of annoyance or pity for him, he couldn't really tell. Your lips tighten as you carefully and patiently unravel each layer of cloth one by one to reach the aforementioned wound. He quickly looks down at his lap, scolding himself inwardly.

Why was he staring at your lips, of all things, anyways? He has no concise answer for that. And he is not sure what to expect once you two can finally look at the bullet wound itself, either. It's like everything was uncertain, and that was frustrating, to say the least.

"F-Fuck... That hurts-"

He clenches his teeth tightly, determined not to make any unneeded noise. He doesn't want to appear weak in your presence for some reason. Perhaps it's his pride speaking. He didn't really know.

"Sorry... I'm going as gently as I can," your voice is softer than he's used to, and he's not sure how to take that. You take your sweet time to remove the remaining layers of his bandage, being cautious not to abruptly tear it off, opting instead for a slower and more careful approach. Considerate as ever.

Leon releases a trembling breath while you carefully remove the final layer of fabric. He has to fight a growing urge to recoil as the last remaining layers of bandage are delicately removed. But it does at least feel relieving to finally take a full breath with no restriction that the tightness of the fabric secured around his chest provided. Even if such freedom was probably brief.

You both can now see his entire shoulder, which completely reveals the wound for you both to behold. He is very much aware of his heart pounding in his chest, his nerves on high alert. Once the wound is finally exposed, you examine it, quickly glancing over the hastily but securely stitched front and back where the bullet entered and exited his body. It was certainly not a clean, medical work, but it far surpassed anything either of you were capable of doing for him.

"Looks like she stitched you up, too... I wonder if that means she removed the bullet," you note, your brows furrowed together, creating a rather adorable-looking wrinkle between them.

...Goddammit, he's thinking utter nonsense.

"Ugh... I don't want to look at it," he mutters with clenched teeth, his breath slightly uneven. Nonetheless, he tries to divert his attention to something else, anything else, to distract himself from the nervousness twisting at his insides. The pain is intense and prickling, a sensation that spreads from the wound itself. The tender area around the injury causes Leon to wince involuntarily as you delicately touch it. He looks down at the wound, the stitched-up flesh making him a bit queasy. But he pushes past it. "I... can't tell you anything on what she did, sorry. Like I said, I passed out."

He looks away from it, not wanting to see it for much longer. Damn it, this will likely leave a mark. So much for the first day on the job. The idea of having to bear a permanent reminder of that horrible night makes him want to wail and claw at the walls.

But instead, he just lets out a shaky breath, his hands gripping at the sheets with iron-tight grip. In some sick irony, he now finds himself wishing for the dull, physical ache to return, to take center-stage again, instead of these feelings of disgust and dread that were so much more difficult to deal with.

Once again, your voice pulls him out of his silent turmoil. This seems to be a common occurrence now. But one he's grateful for, nonetheless.

"Well... Either way, you'll still need to go to a hospital for this. Preferably as soon as possible," you state, pretty much admitting that you would rather have opted to go directly to the hospital after your escape instead of staying in a nearby motel. He knew that you didn't approve of his stubborn refusal to go to the hospital. And here you were now. DIY care will have to do. You hum, your fingertips carefully tracing around the stitches. He shivers. Whether that was from the pain or something else entirely, he didn't really know. "-At least it's stitched up, so that's good. I'll just clean it, disinfect it, and wrap it back up for you. Hopefully it'll be okay."

"Yeah, I know I need to get this checked out. But for now..." As you start tending to his injury with a wet wipe, he flinches a bit, feeling a sharp pain from the cold dampness touching his skin. He hisses through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he continues, his voice strained from the pain: "-I just want us to get out of here first. As far away from Racoon City as possible. Especially Sherry."

"Sorry... Bear with it for a while, will you?" you say as you move closer to him on the bed, glancing at him with that cute sympathetic look of yours. You start from his back and then move to his front. He shuts his eyes again while you continue with the wound cleaning, concentrating on taking deep, regular breaths to soothe his nerves. His body tenses up involuntarily, as the pain from the wound and the recollection of how it happened remain vivid in his thoughts.

"It's alright... I'll handle it." A sensitive area on his shoulder causes him to squirm slightly when touched. His entire body tightens instinctively, and his muscles contract involuntarily. "S-Sorry, just... Be careful, okay?"

You nod as you continue to cleanse his skin of dried up blood, while he tries to find solace in your quiet comfort. It presents a challenge, as the pain from his injury and the physical proximity between you two hinder his ability to focus on anything else.

"Don't apologize. I'm not the one with a damn bullet wound in my shoulder," you respond to his apology with a soft huff and a small shake of your head, your attention fully focused on your work. Your primary objective was to avoid making any sharp movements and to prevent your eyes from wandering south.

Which was... a bit harder than you would have liked to admit. You notice a few birthmarks scattered around his skin here and there. It's cute. A part of you wants to trace over them with your finger.

But, of course, you have a job to do.

Leon takes a deep breath, his chest slowly rising and falling as you work on him carefully. His teeth are clenched far too tightly for his comfort, and you are kind of worried that he might chip a tooth if he keeps this up. But considering that you have no idea what he's going through here, you decide to keep your mouth shut on that.

After successfully cleaning the area around his rough stitches, you pull away and search through the first aid kit you had in the motel room. A small, thoughtful hum fills your lips.

You hear Leon laugh weakly:"...Anything worthwhile in there, doc?"

"Well, there's some antibiotic cream in here... Better than nothing. I guess?"

He watches as you pull out the small tube of some basic antibacterial cream. You're pretty sure you have seen it somewhere before. Then again, no point expecting some high-end medicine from a med-kit you found stashed in the bedside drawer. Regardless, you make sure to read through its contents, just to be sure. Satisfied, you nod to yourself and return to sit behind him, beginning to apply the cream to his stitches with your fingertips. He instantly grimaces, be it from the pain or the cold. His muscle tighten again for a moment, a small gasp leaving his lips.

"Stay still," you instruct to him softly as you spread the cream over his stitches thoroughly, your forehead wrinkling with focus. You try your best to be gentle while also ensuring that an adequate amount is applied to the injury.

"Ugh... shit, that's cold," he grits out, his voice strained.

For a small while, the room is silent, aside from Leon's shaky breaths and an occasional grunt of pain as he struggles to stay still for you. After you thoroughly treated both sides, you withdraw with a sigh: "Well... That's as good as we can do for now. We just need to wrap it back up with something."

Leon exhales a trembling breath of relief. Poor guy definitely had the worst night of his life.

"Heh... I guess I owe you one for this." He directs his gaze towards his shoulder, his eyes shifting between his bloodstained shirt lying crumbled on the floor and the now clean and treated stitches. Compared to their previous state, they definitely looked a bit better, but it was still, admittedly, pretty gross to look at. You can only guess that it will be a lengthy recovery for him. He hums. "You did a great job, by the way. I'm not sure I could have handled doing all that by myself,"

He meets your eyes with a gentle, grateful smile.

"-Just make sure to get it treated at the hospital. I don't need anything else from you." You dismiss him with a small smile of your own. Leon gives you a small nod at that.

However brief, the implication of the future makes you feel a bit... uneasy. Considering the past night's events, the idea of parting and going your separate ways seemed to be somewhat conflicting to you. Nonetheless, you have already accepted that it was inevitable. Leon, on the other hand, seemed to be firmly committed to destroying Umrella completely for what it did to Racoon City, just like Claire was. You felt somewhat out of place between these two determined individuals. After all, you were just an ordinary person who somehow miraculously escaped relatively unharmed. You weren't a courageous hero, nor were you skillfull enough to take down an entire corporation in some blaze of glory.

...Except for the scar or two for you to brag about now. Though you honestly doubt your survival is something to be proud of. You sure don't feel proud or accomplished at all.

Regardless, you ignore all these thoughts and concentrate on retrieving fresh bandages, contemplating them with a pensive expression. It's a bit of a hassle to unwrap the delicate gauze without tearing it. "...I sure hope this will be enough to wrap your shoulder back up. Though I guess I can just run out and buy some more."

"I think that should be enough. And don't worry about running out to get more. I don't want you going out there alone," Leon's voice is more serious than you expect, prompting you to raise a brow at him. He meets your questioning gaze, his face showing a somewhat worried expression. "We're stronger together. Safer together. And after everything we've been through, I don't want to risk us losing sight of each other."

"What do you would even happen, though? We're out now, right? I get that you and Claire want to deal with Umbrella and all, but..." you let out a sigh and move closer to him from behind, beginning to gently wrap the bandage around his shoulder and torso to provide support. Despite the awkwardness and clumsiness of your work, you do your best for him. "-I'm just a normal, boring person with a normal, boring life, y'know. Not much I can do. I'm guessing I'll just... go back home to my State or something. Since Racoon City is obviously... uh... not an option of residence anymore."

Leon nods again as he listens to you. He takes a brief pause, staring down at the fresh bandages layering themselves over his body before returning to look back at you over his shoulder. You lock eyes with him.

"But still... I'd feel better if you stuck with me. Or Claire. At least until you and Sherry are somewhere safe," he shrugs slightly, wincing as the motion immediately strains at his wounded shoulder. "I'm not saying you have to help us take down Umbrella if you don't want to. That's our fight. But... I would feel better knowing that you're safe and protected. And if that means sticking with me until you are, then..."

"-Go easy on that shoulder, will you?" you release a small sigh of frustration when you see him casually shrug and grimace instantly. You place a hand on his uninjured shoulder to acclimate him a bit before continuing bandaging him up.

"Sorry, sorry. Staying still now." A sheepish chuckle leaves him as he gives you an almost guilty look. A trembling breath escapes him as you work at his shoulder. Although it's obvious that he's still uncomfortable, it looks like his pain has eased a little, much to your relief.

You take a deep breath, your expression shifting slightly. Truth be told, you were a bit jealous of Leon's unyielding faith into things somehow working out in the end. It was naive, but... refreshing, too. He continues, his gaze now locked onto you over his shoulder: "And you're not boring, you know. Sure, you may not have any special skills or training, but you're smart. Brave. Resilient. You've survived this far, haven't you?"

You take a brief moment to reflect on his words, with only the faint noise of the gauze being unwrapped and distant sounds from outside permeating the motel room. "-Won't I just be a burden to you guys, though? You're a cop. And Claire is apparently one impressive badass with a gun. I'm not... Ada, either. I'm just... well, me. Not much I can offer to help you in the long run."

You take a brief break to lock eyes with him again. Leon smiles at you faintly, his face now looking more relaxed, no longer wrinkled with the expression of pain: "Well... You've got heart. That counts for something in my book."

"Uh... not to be a downer, but I don't think my 'heart' will keep me safe out there. I never even shot a gun properly before. Until last night that is," you whisper playfully, rolling your eyes at him. Somehow, his words always manage to bring a smile to your face, even if it's a small one. Though he is pretty damn corny. "I guess I could kill zombies with kindness. Do you think my heart is any good for that?"

Leon laughs at that, his eyes twinkling with amusement. It looks like your bluntness didn't bother him much. When you're eventually finished with bandaging him up, you're able to see how well the pure white fabric of the fresh gauze contrasts with the previous dirty and bloody one now lying discarded on the floor. Leon takes a moment to look back down at his freshly bandaged shoulder, too, appreciating your work. At least you hope he did.

"I mean... I could teach you how to shoot properly and all. If you want." He looks back up at you with a genuinely sincere expression on his face. He takes a short pause and a small smile appears on his lips before he adds: "...And I get the feeling you'd be a natural shot from what I've seen from you already."

You only scoff at that, your attention focused on inspecting his body, examining the various cuts and bruises that still marred his skin.

Leon lets out another gentle chuckle at your dismissive response or lack there of, his face showing a combination of amusement and gratitude. Admittedly, you're a bit more huffy with him now that you're out of danger. You can't really help it. But that doesn't mean you don't feel any worry twist in your gut as you look over his bruised body.

"-How about I patch some of these up as well? Since I have all the supplies out and all."

"You sure? I can walk it off just fine," Leon says in a rather playful tone. Though, to make it easier for you to observe his body, he still carefully adjusts his position to face you fully. "Sure, a few cuts and scrapes here and there, and I'm guessing I'm gonna be bruised up pretty bad, but... Nothing to make a fuss about."

You only grace him with yet another deadpan look that makes it clear that you already made the decision for him. So, without saying another word, you grab another wet wipe and begin cleaning out his numerous smaller cuts and gashes scattered here and there, starting with his lower back, as you move behind him once more.

Leon emits a soft hiss, the familiar coldness causing him to shudder against you. He's rather pliable for you, for some reason. You kind of expected him to protest or at least grumble a bit at your incessant coddling. But it seems like he was fine with just letting you play nurse for him.

"Stay still, will you," you quietly chide him, placing a hand on his back to stop his squirming.

"Sorry, it just stings like hell..." he mumbles as he attempts to remain still for you, his muscles tightened. His body grows increasingly rigid as you continue to tend to his wounds, a trembling exhale leaving his lips. He clenches his teeth again, but he sometimes cannot resist emitting a hiss or gasp here and there. "God, I don't remember the last time I got beat up this bad... I feel like I got hit by a damn train."

You now move to position yourself in front of him to take care of his stomach area. And once again, you find yourself trying to keep your mind from focusing too much on the physical proximity between you two. Especially as you shift to kneel on the floor between his legs, finding no other better option to be level with his lower abdomen in a way that would be comfortable for you.

All you are doing is taking care of his wounds and nothing else.

Leon and you are both acutely aware of how close you are to him now, his breath catching in his throat when you kneel in front of him. But he doesn't say anything about it, and neither do you. After all, saying anything about it would potentially force you to confront some feelings you weren't comfortable confronting quite yet. As you clean up some minor cuts of his, you feel a slight increase in your heart rate despite all your best efforts to keep a level head. However, you try your damnest to put these unwanted feelings aside by reminding yourself that you are simply doing your job.

...Only you certainly can't ignore the fact that you are now essentially kneeling between his legs. Despite this, you persevere in cleaning him up, your hands moving over his chest and abdomen with great care. With too much care, really. There was no reason for you to be so careful and soft with him. But you do so anyways.

Leon watches you intently as you're working on him in tense silence, his eyes fixed on your face, hands, the way your hair occasionally falls over your face from your position, partially obscuring your features from his view. Your gentle assistance causes him to feel a tiny shiver traveling down his spine every time you move your fingers and touch his skin directly. He swallows, clearing his throat.

"Fucking hell... I'm gonna be sore as hell for weeks," Leon lets out a somewhat shaky laugh, trying to adopt a light and casual tone despite the situation. Though, he is mostly just hoping to distract himself from... everything.

...He wonders how your touch would feel on him without the washcloth there to mask it.

You give him a slight shrug in response. "-Sore is better than dead."

Fair.

"Thanks for... taking care of all this. I don't know what I'd do without you right now."

"Probably have Claire do this for me."

Leon laughs nervously, realizing that his attempts at small-talk are not quite working out. He watches you grab the antibacterial cream and move back up to sit behind him on the bed. When you begin applying the cream to his back, he wries slightly but tries his best to remain still for you and conceal the full extent of his discomfort. Your hands on his skin, and the cream's coldness is making him shiver for the countless time today. "...Is the cream really necessary? It's just some cuts and bruises..."

"Yup."

He sighs, hanging his head low and accepting his fate. Once the initial foreign coldness of the cream subsidies, the sensation of your touch on his skin has a strangely relaxing effect on him, especially so when it doesn't involve the aching bullet wound on his shoulder. He leans into your touch mindlessly, despite the ache, feeling his muscles gradually unwind under your care.

He's not necessarily aware of the action. But once he does notice it, he doesn't try to move back, either. After all the stress and pain, it's too much of a relief. And he's far too weak to resist it.

With a small smile on his lips, he glances at you over his shoulder and says: "You know... I've gotta say, being taken care of by a beautiful stranger like you isn't all that bad."

You huff out a surprised laugh at that, giving him a rather adorable-looking eye roll. He feels his smile grow, feeling oddly proud of making you laugh. Even if it was probably at his expense.

"...Not sure how I'm supposed to respond to that, but thank you for the compliment. You're not so bad yourself. For a patient." Your dismissive response at his cheeky remark is something that Leon finds genuinely amusing. He knows he took you by surprise with that. Which was his intention all along.

And just like that, you return back to the floor, settling between his legs and starting to apply cream to the small cuts scattered on his stomach. Like it's no big deal whatsoever. Your calm and nonchalant attitude about this all is kind of driving him crazy. It makes him feel like he's insane for feeling all frazzled by this entire situation. But he keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to embarrass himself any further.

Your ghostly touches across his abdomen cause a slight increase in his heart rate, another shudder running down his spine despite his efforts to suppress it. He tries to hide his body's unwelcome reactions to your touch, biting down on his lip, but he can't help but tremble and gasp occasionally, writing it off on the pain in his head. Rather poorly. His body stubbornly refuses to calm down, not when he can feel the sensation of your fingers gliding across his skin so gently, and he just has to sit there deal with it.

...And hopefully avoid getting a very awkward boner, considering your position between his legs.

Trying to keep the mood light, he grins down at you his eyes glued to you as his voice takes on a more joking tone. Though it sounds more shaky and nervous than confident, much to his annoyance: "You don't have to respond. Just take the compliment."

"Gee, thank you. Very gracious of you," you laugh briefly, shaking your head at him. At times, you were too much. Leon wonders if that's how you normally act, when you're not in a life-or-death situation. He was not prepared for you to be so curt and snarky with him. In a way, it was endearing. Though, of course, he wasn't about to admit that outloud.

Regardless, he finds himself shooting his shot again. Almost on impulse.

"Y'know... You're making this whole 'being patched up' thing damn near enjoyable," his tone is playful, but a subtle hint of interest still manages to sneak into his voice, mixed in with his playful words. He was testing the waters. Trying to see just how receptive you were to his flattery that was a bit more flirty in nature.

"Well, at least you're not in pain. That's good enough for me." Your response is almost unfairly simple, prompting him pout a bit as he watches you finish up on the task of tending to his numerous minor cuts and bruises that he acquired the night before. At the very least, this was much easier for him to handle, both physically and mentally, compared to the gruesome bullet wound you just treated. His torso still had a few noticeable bruises and smaller cuts from the previous day, but he definitely looked much better without all the dried up blood and dirt stuck to his skin and making it seem worse than it really was.

With a soft sigh, you pull back from him and look over him, pausing to look at his bruised hands in particular: "-Those probably hurt, no?"

He concentrates on his hands for a good minute, staring down at them and flexing his fingers to gauge their feel. With a slight grimace, he experiences a tiny burst of pain as he moves them, an exasperated huff leaving his lips.

At this point, is there any part of his body that doesn't hurt like a bitch?

"...A bit. Can't say I'm really surprised, though. It's a wonder I have any usable hands left at all, honestly."

His expression softens slightly when he meets your gaze, noticing the crystal-clear worry in your eyes. He finds it charming how much you truly care and desire to help him. You may be a bit more sharp with him, but your genuine concern for him never went away. He's definitely not used to being doted on so much. Though he feels a bit guilty for enjoying it as much as he does.

You shake your head again, giving him a pointed look at his little quip: "Don't get all dramatic now."

He smiles at that.

"No, but really. Thanks for tending to me. I was serious when I said that I wouldn't know what I'd do without you right now," he repeats his previous statement again, mostly because he doesn't really know what else to say. Or, rather, what he wants to say is a bit out of line.

"Nah. I'm not doing anything groundbreaking here. It just helps to keep my hands busy. I'll probably patch up Claire and Sherry once they come back, too." You wave off his gratitude, as always.

Leon has to refrain from voicing his observations, which directly contradict your words. Which are that you visibly cared more and felt more concerned for him in particular. He didn't want to create an awkward situation between you two. Instead, he watches quietly as you hum and delicately take hold of his hands, bringing them closer to your face to assess the damage. Of course, it wasn't a major problem. In all honesty, you could have concluded this all once you took care of his bullet wound, as it was the only truly crucial matter to deal with. Everything else that followed was rather unnecessary, all things considered.

He freely lets you hold onto his hands without any resistance. His heart flutters slightly as he feels the tenderness of your touch once more. Observing your face, he feels a mix of affection and amusement bubbling in his chest as you examine his hands so thoroughly. Your gaze lingering on his bruised knuckles is something he notices in particular. You're rather attentive with him.

Nonetheless, you pull back once you're satisfied, meeting his gaze. "-It'll probably be good to bandage up those knuckles. Make it less painful for you, at least."

"Yeah, that might not be a bad idea," he says in a light tone, trying to ignore the way his heartbeat steadily accelerates due to the warm sensation of your fingers against his skin with no barriers getting in the way. And ignoring the persistent thoughts of lacing his fingers with yours, just to see how that would feel like.

As you begin silently wrapping his knuckles with gauze, he watches as your hands move gently and precisely over him. Even if it was faint, he couldn't help but notice the contrast between the size of your hands and his own. He almost becomes distracted by the sensation of your touch, but your voice takes him out of it.

"-Nice to know that taking that first aid course back in college wasn't a total waste of time," you muse playfully while you delicately wrap the gauze around one of his hands, making sure not to apply too much pressure on it. The sensation was comforting. By taking care of Leon, you were not only helping him, but also alleviating your own worries following the events of the previous night. In a sense, you were doing this for yourself as much as for him.

"Well, you're really good at this. Maybe you should be a nurse. Look into that." Leon's voice is soft even if his words are teasing, a hint of appreciation or admiration seeping through. You couldn't really tell.

As you scrunch up at him in response to his compliment, Leon giggles. The sound of it feels oddly calm and soothing to you. You are acutely aware of his eyes on you as you swiftly wrap the gauze around his hand, but you do not mention it to him. Considering that you were acting rather excessive with your care for him, you couldn't really blame him for staring. Once you are done with one of his hands, he glances at his freshly bandaged knuckles with a faint smile gracing his lips.

"...Never thought I'd put my skills to use like this though," your say quietly.

"I never thought I'd end up getting shot on my first day on the job, either. Or attacked by a giant alligator. It's been a wild ride, to say the least."

"I guess we all got the rug pulled from under our feet last night, so to speak," you sigh, your brows furrowing a bit as your mind drifts back to the events of the night prior. But you don't dwell on it too much. Focusing instead of the feel of Leon's hand in yours.

As you gradually complete the bandaging on his other hand as well, he continues to watch you in silence, his gaze fixed on your face as you concentrate on your task. You feel a bit sheepish, knowing you are being watched this closely, a warm, ticklish sensation flickering to life in your chest. You sigh and shake it off.

"But hey, I'm grateful I got to meet you. Though that was... one hell of a first meeting," his tone is sincere and quiet, with a genuine intention behind his words you can't overlook even if you try. You are suddenly fully aware that you probably wouldn't have been able to figure out what to do without his presence by your side in duration of that hellish night. In fact, if it wasn't for him, you'd probably be dead. Be it by giving up on fighting and simply accepting your fate, or being far too panicked to get yourself together in a moment of importance.

You wouldn't have survived if you were on your own put there. At least that's what you thought.

"I'm... glad I met you, too. And I'm glad you're here with me, right now."

The ease with which these words just fly out of your mouth is... surprising. A rather long moment of silence follows, only the soft sound of the bandage being wrapped around his other hand and the distant noise of cars outside filling the cramped motel room.

You do not look up at him, but you can be pretty certain that Leon is probably just as taken aback by your unexpectedly moving response. Your heart skips as you swiftly realize the genuine sincerity of your own words that seemed to have a mind of their own. This wasn't like you. Being this open and vulnerable about your feelings. Especially so to someone you've just met. Maybe you were even more of a mess than you thought. But when you do get the courage to sneak a quick glance up at him, his expression is rather soft, much to your surprise. You cannot quite comprehend what is reflected in there, but it brings a warm, blooming feeling to your chest regardless.

"Uh... Thanks," he speaks up eventually, his voice sounding a little rougher than usual, but you are grateful enough that he managed to blurt out at least something to end this heavy beat of silence. The unexpected intensity of the moment has left you feeling a bit flustered and caught off guard, and you never liked not being in control of your emotions.

He continues to watch you as you finish bandaging his other hand, his gaze shifting between your face and his now fully bandaged knuckles. Throughout this quiet but charged process, you deal with a rather strange combination of feelings. Gratitude for his understanding of your odd behavior without focusing on it too much. A fluttery, nervous feeling in your stomach due to your physical proximity to him, making you painfully aware of every rise and fall of his chest with every breath he takes. A burning heat of embarrassment blooming in your cheeks from being so upfront with him all of the sudden.

It was a doozy, to say the least. Especially to your already worn out mind.

You exhale slowly, calming yourself. Leaning slightly back on your knees, you observe his bandaged hands. Despite finding a safe place to rest and sleep without immediate danger, you still feel a sense of unease and uncertainty somewhere in the back of your mind, gnawing at your every thought like an ugly, persistent parasite. And these new emotions you are now dealing with did not help with that feeling of apprehension whatsoever. You're growing increasingly unsure about what to do next or how to proceed after all is resolved. Both short-term as well as long-term.

Will you just return to your regular daily routine after this? Go back to work like nothing happened? Try out that study program you were so interested in applying for? Visit that new Cafe that opened near your apartment back home?

All of that seems almost impossible now. The same things that used to make you feel hopeful and excited for the future now seemed completely hollow. You felt hollow. Like Racoon City has robbed you of your future, even if it let you escape alive.

But what other option is there for you?

To play hero and risk your life again?

You weren't sure you could handle that, either.

"Hey, I..." Leon starts to speak, breaking you out of your trance, but his voice fades away without ever finishing whatever he was planning on saying to you. He clearly wants to convey something, but he is either unsure of what to say, or is hesitant about speaking his mind at all. You can't really blame him. You find it rather infuriating yourself, trying to find the correct words to express the unique combination of emotions swirling within you chest.

You shake your head, expelling all these unwanted thoughts from your mind. At least for a brief moment.

"-For what it's worth, I really am glad you've survived. With me. And... I'm thankful. For all you did for me. Even though you didn't know me at all."

Your thumbs are absentmindedly brushing against his palm now while you keep your gaze lowered. You don't want to see his face right now. Perhaps, you're just scared to.

"...You may not have saved everybody. Or most people you wanted to save. But... I'm here thanks to you. So... thank you. For saving me," you finish quietly. Taking little time to consider your next action, you find yourself leaning down and gently kissing his bandaged knuckles, lingering there for a few moments before withdrawing. You don't address the issue directly or consider its significance.

You refuse to.

Leon is very much stunned speechless when you go and kiss his knuckles without any warning being given to him, his heart quickly flying up into his throat as he stares down at you, utterly dumbfounded. This was... definitely the last thing he expected you to do, especially after such a heartfelt sentiment that left him feeling rather choked up as it is. He feels a rush of warmth traveling up to his face, causing him to choke on his own words for a good minute. He struggles to find the right words as various emotions overwhelm him all at once. But they didn't feel heavy or painful, like the crushing guilt for those he couldn't protect, or the suffocating ache of betrayal that Ada's deception left him with.

This was lighter, giving him a much-needed break from all the depressing thoughts and questions buzzing on the front of his mind. But, ironically this was also so much more nerve-wracking to navigate.

He didn't know which on which emotion to focus on, which one to express to you, and whether or not he should express anything at all.

Gratitude for your unconditional comfort. Guilt for making you comfort him in the first place. Confusion at your sudden show of gentle affection he didn't know how to respond to. An inexplicable fluttering sensation making his guts feel all queasy.

You not saying anything to address what just happened doesn't help much with the chaos happening inside his head.

"You..." although he starts speaking, he trails off once again, cursing at himself inside his own head.

You don't seem bothered at all by his lack of a reply. In fact, Leon is kind of uncertain if you even want him to reply in the first place. It doesn't seem like you expect much from him at all. And the situation between you is already too complicated as it is, without all the added weirdness taking place right now. Maybe you didn't want to talk about it at all.

Though, the notion of you simply kissing him like that, without expecting anything from him in return is... more moving than he was willing to admit.

So, despite his disbelief and the whirlwind of emotions wrecking havoc on his already frazzled mind, he just keeps looking at you like. Like a loyal puppy looking at its owner and trying to figure them out. Truth be told, he simply cannot bring himself to look away from you right now, not with the memory of your brief kiss to his knuckles now etched into his mind. Regardless of its simplicity and innocence, the kiss has a deeper meaning for him. Suddenly, he finds himself being struck by your simple beauty: how tired and fragile you truly seem to him in this moment. In a way, you look just like him. Exhausted and battered, but carrying on regardless. There was a certain authentic charm in your disheveled appearance. He finds himself yearning to reach out and hold your hand, to bring your own fingers up to his lips, like you did for him.

...But before he can do or say any of that, you sigh and lift yourself up from your kneeling position beneath him. You release his hands, your thumbs gently brushing along the sides of his palms one last time before you warmth slips away from him completely. Leon continues to watch as you move away from him, feeling an unexpected sense of disappointment coiling deep in his gut despite his efforts to ignore it. He tries his damnest to dismiss this unpleasant feeling, convincing himself to concentrate on whatever you choose to do next instead. Though he does kind of feel like some lovesick puppy, unable to look away from you even for a damn second.

You quickly sit back up onto the motel bed beside him, your eyes traveling up and down his form quietly. He knows you're probably just overlooking his injuries, but he suddenly feels nervous and almost self-conscious under your attention, nonetheless. Mostly because he wants to know what you think of him. Not as a patient, but as a man. He does appear visibly better, though, now that he's at least no longer wearing that dirty, bloody bandage around his shoulder, and his smaller cuts and bruises have been properly cleaned from the stray dirt and blood stuck on them. But he's definitely seen better days.

"-Claire and Sherry sure are taking their time," you say softly, breaking the silence.

"Y-Yeah, they are. They've been gone for a while now. I'm sure they're fine, though. Claire can handle herself," he agrees, his voice sounding strangely squeaky even to his own ears. He cringes inwardly, clearing his throat. His mind continues to race, with thoughts swirling like a tornado within his head. Feeling restless, he shifts uncomfortably on the bed, unable to find the right position.

He's fully aware that his behavior has become noticeably more quiet and reserved compared to before, and he can't help but feel slightly annoyed with himself for making things awkward between you. But he doesn't really know what else to do. Whether you want him to talk about that kiss or not. If he's making a bigger deal out of it than it really is.

If you would be willing to do that again...

He runs his fingers through his unkempt hair with a quiet huff, the subtle sensation of your lips brushing against his knuckles both a blessing and a curse. He's definitely the weird one here. Claire probably would have laughed her ass off at him right now, and he can't really blame her. His gaze is fixed on you, his eyes lingering on your face for far longer than necessary, trying to read between the lines, to figure out what you're thinking in that head of yours. He's itching to say something, anything, to break the weighty silence that has now enveloped the small, confined room... but the words continue to stubbornly elude him. Instead, he awkwardly clears his throat again, almost like something got stuck in there. But, really, he is simply suddenly overtaken by a strong desire for physical contact with you. One he isn't sure what to do with.

You shake your head and speak up again, for which he is definitely grateful, his mind instantly rushing to cling to your words. Anything to escape from the rising disarray his head is in.

"Well, hey, at least it gave us a chance to patch you up properly."

You glare at the old bandage, stained with blood from his shoulder's bullet wound, that you had taken off earlier and left crumpled on the floor. As Leon once again remembers the wound on his shoulder, he trembles slightly, following your gaze down at the blood-stained bandage lying on the floor. He finds that cute. How you almost scrunch your nose up at that dirty thing. Like it's a living thing that caused him so much problems.

Despite him being very much shirtless, he still feels a bit too hot for his liking.

"I guess it did, yeah," he says, his voice sounding rather strained. Restlessly, he shifts on the bed again, desperately searching for something else to talk about. However, his mind stubbornly keeps returning to the sensation of your lips on his skin, and an unfamiliar longing gradually rises within him, tugging at his heartstrings...

But longing for what exactly?

He suppresses his thoughts and bites his tongue, feeling a bit embarrassed by the intensity of his desire. He feels like a complete idiot. Getting all worked up over nothing. He glances at you once again, his eyes lingering on your face momentarily before dropping to your hands resting in your lap.

"Uh... thanks again, by the way. You know. For taking care of me and all," he blurts out, trying to resist the temptation to reach out and hold your hand, his own hands now clenching into fists on either side of him on the bed.

"No problem. We're a team, remember?" you say in a more cheerful manner, giving him a slight smile. One that he returns almost on a whim. Though, as you look at him a bit closer, you hum and reach back for the antibacterial cream. Before he knows it, he feels the pads of your fingers dabbing the cool cream on the side of his cheek. You applying the cream to his cheek leaves him feeling a slight sting, but the warmth of your touch on his skin helps to distract him from it. He didn't even realize he had a cut there. He's pretty sure it was relatively tiny. It wasn't really needed at all to take care of it, but you still did it anyway, and your smile grew a little wider as you pulled your hand away. "-There. Good as new. Y'know... ignoring the bullet wound, huge scary bruises and a good number of cuts."

Despite knowing he's far from 'good as new', Leon can't help but laugh at your playful comment. It helps him relax a little, some weight lifted off his shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah, keep making fun of me. You didn't like it so much when those dogs were trying to bite your face off, huh?" A small smirk forms on his face as he teases you back in a lighthearted manner that a good friend would. Though, the subject is rather... morbid. But it helps to joke about those things. A little.

He wants to say more, to come up with something witty or charming, maybe even muster up some cheesy pick-up lime to try and see if he can get away with it. But as he glances at you again, his words become stuck in his throat all over again. It's impossible for him not to focus on your face, taking in every tiny detail and drinking them all in with a hunger that feels almost scarily insatiable. This particular moment between you two has an oddly charged quality to it, as if there's more than just friendly banter filling the stale air of the motel room. He feels an intense and unexplainable desire to be closer to you, to touch you, to...

He swallows hard, trying to push these invasive thoughts out of his head. He chastises himself internally for being absurd. After all, you're just a friend and teammate. Supposedly. Whatever you were to him, his behavior is strange, like an infatuated teenager with a pathetic crush he has no idea what to do with. For fuck's sake, he is a 21-year-old police officer.

...Technically speaking, that is.

But he lacks any sort of control over his heart rate or sweaty palms. He can't help but look down at your lips repeatedly, as if he's being persuaded to do so against his own will.

As you let out a weary sigh of your own, you seem to be utterly oblivious to the inner struggle he is currently experiencing unbeknownst to you. The room is quiet, but your troubled and contemplative gaze is fixed ahead of you instead of looking at him. Leon doesn't know if that makes him feel better or worse. A huge, pathetic part of him wants your eyes to be on him, to be your center of attention like he was moments prior. But another part of him is utterly mortified at the prospect, knowing he'll probably just fumble like an idiot if you were to meet his blatant stare right now.

He's stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The shutter cracks welcome the morning sunlight in, creating long, bright yellow stripes across your features. You look beautiful like this, but he can't help but want to know what's on your mind that has you looking so distant, like you're in a world completely separate from this one. And them, much like you did with the kiss to his knuckles, you don't say anything to warn him. He just watches as you lean down and rest your head on his good shoulder. You remain silent, immersed in your own thoughts. Almost like it's a completely normal thing to do between you two. Or maybe you just don't want to address it? He couldn't really figure it out. He couldn't figure you out. And he couldn't really figure himself out, either.

Everything was a big, convoluted mess.

Another strong rush of emotions hits him straight across the face at the sudden closeness you grace him with. It's funny, really. Here he was, wanting to get all close and personal with you, and now that that's exactly what's happening, his brain is completely blank. He makes an effort to take a deep breath, but it comes out shaky and uneven. He is also suddenly acutely aware of his own lack of clothing on his upper half. He longs to express himself to you in some meaningful way, but still finds himself unable to say a single damn word. A chaotic mix of thoughts and cravings overwhelms his mind, taking over his every sense. Gradually, he does manage to bring himself to move. To extend his arm and gently drape it around your shoulders, drawing you in closer to him, watching how you'd react and if he should pull back and shower you with awkward apologies that were already forming on the tip of his tongue. He can sense the gentle, rhythmic pulsation of your heart against his bare skin, and that feeling is almost intoxicating in how soothing it is.

He kind of wishes he could lay his head down directly on your chest, just to listen to your heartbeat. That would certainly keep his head empty of any and all thoughts, big and small.

You make a soft noise that sounds like one of approval, moving slightly closer to him, your bodies now comfortably intertwined in a clumsy side-snuggle. A surge of protectiveness suddenly comes over Leon when you cuddle closer to him like that. Silently, he squeezes you a just a little bit tighter, letting a pleasant shiver run down his spine as your body touches his, filling out the dips and contours of his form with your own, almost like two puzzle pieces fitting together. The gesture holds an undeniable amount of intimacy, and he feels a strong desire to just keep holding you and never let go.

Now, Leon finds himself being silent to conserve the moment, rather than due to awkwardness. There is a delicate sense of wordless understanding and reliance that has formed between you, without it having to be solely platonic or romantic in nature. He's uncertain how to interpret it exactly, and whether you even want him to interpret it in some specific way. For now, he simply acknowledges that your warm presence near him sooths him in a way that he desperately needs, regardless of what that entails for you two. In a way, it gives him a feeling of calmness he was longing for this entire time. A brief reprieve from all the chaos and uncertainty of the past, present, and future.

He leans forward, carefully placing his chin on top of your head, and then closes his eyes, focusing on nothing but the soft feeling of your body pressed against his. He can hear the soft and soothing sound of your breath and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, which makes him feel strangely...

At peace.

He can feel you nuzzle into him ever so slightly, clearly being careful not to disturb his achy shoulder, which makes him smile fondly, finding the gesture endearing in a pure and uncomplicated manner. It is comforting to not be alone, in a fundamentally human sense. Maybe he needed a moment such as this one for a while now. He just didn't know that until he had it.

Leon inhales the scent of your hair as he takes a deep breath. It smells of motel's cheap shampoo, which is unsurprising. All four of them probably smell the same right now. But he doesn't really care. He is unable to resist the urge to bury his nose into your hair slightly, as if attempting to absorb your scent. Is that a bit weird on his part? Maybe. But he feels far too content to care about his dignity at this point.

Tgough, the moment breaks rather abruptly, as you move pull back from him, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. Leon feels a familiar sense of disappointment deep in his gut when you withdraw from him, but he tries his best to conceal it from you, not wanting to appear too needy in front of you. Even if he really was needy. Despite his heart still racing, he shakes it off and attempts to appear unaffected. Very poorly.

"...Sorry. You must be cold like that. The cream probably settled already, so..." you mutter out without looking at him directly, but he cuts you off, the words leaving the tip of his tongue before he can think them through.

"It's fine," his tone is gruff. "I'm not cold."

Despite being aware that there is nothing inherently intimate about this situation, he still feels oddly exposed in front of you. The thought of you observing his bare skin out in the open only increases his already fast-paced heartbeat. After all the events of the night before, it feels... strange to feel his blood pumping in his temples, and it not being a result of something horrifying or life-threatening. He attempts to divert his eyes from you, but they persistently return back to your face. He was being drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Though, your warmth was nothing like one coming from a flame. He wasn't scared of you burning him if he gets too close. No, rather, he was terrified of your gentle light to turn off, leaving him without its comforting warmth to grasp onto.

He can't help but focus on your lips in particular, already reminiscing about the moment you kissed his knuckles. His thoughts are now pretty much haunted by this one memory, replaying it incessantly like a broken record.

Don't give in, don't give in, don't give in...

He repeats it to himself in his own head, but he finds it increasingly harder and harder to follow his own advice. His hands are clenched tightly on his lap, causing his bruised knuckles ache in protest. But it's all he can do to resists the urge to reach out to you, and...

"-Sorry," you suddenly repeat, your attention fully focused on his tightly clenched hands. Damn it, you probably think he's uncomfortable or something. He can see that guilty look in your eyes, and he hates it. He doesn't want you to look at him like that. "I... didn't mean to make things weird. Don't worry about it. I don't-"

Leon shakes his head, but keeps looking straight at your face dutifully. His heart is beating so fast that it seems like it could burst straight out of his chest any moment now, eager to show you how excited you truly make him with the smallest of things. It's becoming almost too much for him to handle the desire to kiss you. And not just your knuckles.

"No... it's not that," he protests in a slightly hoarse voice. His words stop as he shifts his eyes down to your lips again and then back up to meet your hesitant gaze, searching for something he can't really put his finger on. He is able to see every aspect of your face crystal clear in the soft light of the morning sun: the way your eyelashes create faint shadows on your cheeks, the gentle curve of your lips, the subtle color flush on your skin. "You didn't make things weird. I just..."

Your lashes flutter, your body tensing ever so slightly as you finally take notice of his very apparent staring, causing Leon to hold his breath momentarily. A part of him expects to receive a scolding he probably deserves. But it never comes. Instead, an unexpected sense of tension settles between you, catching him completely off guard and leaving him uncertain about where this was going exactly. Or maybe he just doesn't want to acknowledge the truth. Even so, he allows it to persist and guide him without any resistance or attempts to distance himself from you. Not that he wants to resist this pull in the first place.

He can almost taste the saltiness of your skin on his lips. He can almost hear the soft sound of your breath. And he can almost sense the subtle scent that is uniquely yours. The emotional intimacy between you is almost too much for him handle. So, without much thought, he moves in and gently cups your cheek, lifting your face towards his, wanting - no, needing - to be closer to you.

"...Leon?"

The subtle sound of your voice uttering his name causes his heart to stop momentarily. He can see it in your eyes that you do understand the silent implication behind this sudden action of his. After all, clarification is not exactly necessary to catch on to what he trying to do here. The feel of your skin beneath his fingers sends a slight shiver through his body. Despite this, your eyes remain locked together, almost as if you were sharing a wordless conversation between each other.

Leon swallows. He gently strokes your lower lip with his thumb, relishing in the sensation of it beneath his fingertip. Even if it's chapped and dry from last night's events. His voice is just a soft whisper now as he voices the silent question that's on the forefront of his mind: "...Can I kiss you?"

There is a moment of hesitation between you, but you don't move to pull away or reject him. He can guess that you're mulling over your own thoughts and doubts in that pretty head of yours. Though he wishes he could know what you're thinking of right now. If you want this as much as he does. But he waits patiently for you to share your answer with him once you do find it. Whatever it may be.

And then, you give him a slow nod.

As you stare back at him, Leon feels a sudden tightness in his throat. He knows he's being a bit too emotional about all of this, but your little nod feels like an agreement, approval, and acceptance all at once. Without any further delay, he leans in and gently cups your other cheek now as well, holding your face in his palms, letting your breaths mix for just a smidge of a moment.

Is it a wise decision? Clearly not. You've just met. The fact that you were able to survive a dangerous and challenging situation together doesn't alter that fact. However... in a way, it still does. Leon feels secure with you. The unspoken trust built between you two is difficult to articulate in words. The kind of trust that can only form when you experience a challenging ordeal only you can understand the full extent of. Which is why he doesn't try to explain it. Not when you two can explore it through action, instead.

When he does finally lean towards you, you meet him halfway, much to his relief, your lips inevitably locking together lightly. He closes his eyes and drinks in the delicate sensation of warmth and comfort that comes from sharing this simple human contact with you. The sensation of your lips on his makes Leon's mind blissfully empty. He resists the urge to embrace you tightly and hold you close. Compared to the intense passion he feels burning within his chest, the kiss itself feels hesitant and almost innocent in nature. Nonetheless, it triggers a pleasant surge of heat in his veins. He can feel the warm of your hand on his skin as you place it atop of one of his own hands cradling your cheeks, causing his heart to beat even faster within his chest.

Your circumstances don't make it particularly romantic or mind-blowing. The kiss is a bit clumsy, as first kisses usually are, when you don't exactly know how to fall into step with the other person yet. Your lips are dry and cracked, just like his are, due to the previous night. There is even a faint taste of blood that can be felt in the kiss, as one of you definitely split their lip during the numerous falls you both endured. However, none of that is a major issue for him. If anything, it makes it more precious in his mind. How real and authentic it feels.

The kiss is a soft and lingering one that doesn't extend beyond that.

And when you eventually pull apart from one another, concluding the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours, keeping his eyes closed tightly, a shaky breath leaving his lips. Your hand remains on top of his, the touch bringing him a nice feel of wordless reassurance. That you're really there. That you did just kiss, and it wasn't just some weird trick of his frazzled mind.

You weren't going away. Nor were you asking anything of him with that kiss. It was just a kiss. No hidden meanings or agendas in mind. Somehow, that makes it all that much more meaningful for him.

There is a strange sense of vulnerability he has to get used to, both physically and emotionally. The intensity of his emotions causes his body to tremble slightly against you. He remains close to you like this for a couple of long minutes, unprepared for the enchanting moment to come to its inevitable end. He absorbs the subtle scent of your hair hitting his nose, the warm sensation of your skin on his, and the soothing sound of your breath. He longs for this moment to last, and finding his voice again after kissing becomes a rather difficult task.

You also exhale, calming down after that short but sweet moment of connection with him. You don't express much about what just happened between you. You don't think it's even necessary. You simply know that it was sincere and enjoyable. And it seems that Leon felt the same way, too. At least you hope he does. Whatever that meant for your relationship in the long run, you know you don't regret it. You keep your eyes shut for a few more moments, staying close to him.

"Y/N..." he whispers your name in a low voice that sounds almost shy. You can't help but find the sound of him like this rather adorable, your heart giving out a subtle flutter in your chest.

Leon opens his eyes slightly, the blues of his irises meeting yours intently as you follow suit. The soft kiss you just shared is still running through your heart, leaving you feeling just slightly giddy. As you often do after kissing someone you like for the first time. And that dopey look of his is just too damn cute to bear.

So, you blurt out the first thing you that comes to mind.

"...You know, I actually hate cops."

Leon blinks. Once. Twice. Thrice.

...Alright, that was probably not the most romantic thing to say right after kissing him for the first time.

"Uh... Really?" he manages to ask, even though he's obviously still very much dazed from the kiss. Which is honestly kind of endearing, considering how it was just a short but sweet little kiss. You can't help but wonder how he'd look if you kissed him again, properly this time. How he would look at you if you were to lean in and kiss him senseless. But you don't do that. For now, at least. Either way, it's obvious that the emotional whiplash you just gave him with your silly comment only contributed to the stupefied look he's giving you. "But you just kissed one..."

Leon's lips form a small but genuine smile as he lets out a quiet little laugh, a clear hint of disbelief in his voice. You feel his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks gently as he continues to hold your face in his hands, the sensation warm and comforting to your heart.

"Huh. You're right. I guess I'm being a bit hypocritical today," you chortle, a small giggle leaving your lips in return. You can see his smile growing in response to your laugh, and it's a sight a bit too adorable for you right now.

He has a pretty smile.

"I guess you are," he agrees, his eyes briefly glancing over your face, as if he was taking in your features. Or maybe he was just marveling at how beat up you look. "But I don't mind. I think... I sort of like you being hypocritical. Just a little."

With another soft laugh, you gently squeeze his hand on your cheek, tilting your head to the side slightly and resting your face against his palm, practically nuzzling into a bit. You press his hand closer to your cheek and close your eyes for a moment, a content sigh leaving your lips. Your peaceful expression of serenity mirrors Leon's, as he looks on at you with that same sense of quiet satisfaction and solace that was filling the quiet space between you.

Your chest tightens as you feel his thumbs stroke your skin again, the touch gentle and light. The soothing warmth and softness of his skin on yours causes your heart to skip a beat. You suddenly find yourself seriously struggling to resist the urge to kiss him again. It wasn't just a passing curious thought anymore, but a genuine desire you are itching to fulfill. But, for now, you just exhale and enjoy this fragile moment as it is. At this very minute, all the chaos and peril you two have dealt with vanish from your mind at long last. Replaced by this tranquil, modest motel room, reserved only for you and him. At the very least, for this brief moment.

Unfortunately, your little exchange is abruptly interrupted by the earth-shattering sound of a door suddenly bursting open, none other than Claire entering the compact room without any warning given to either of you. That, or maybe you two were just far too lost in each other to hear the approaching footsteps or chatter. A peppy grin is brightening up the redhead's features as she strides in with no care in the world, seemingly far too engrossed into some vigorous discussion with Sherry to fully notice you quite yet. If it wasn't for the situation at hand, you'd probably comment on how buddy-buddy they looked: swaggering in hand-in-hand, almost like two sisters would.

The entire space is quickly overpowered with the strong aroma of freshly cooked greasy food, and you immediately feel your stomach twist and turn in clear demand for some much-needed sustenance. The bags of what looked like your standard roadside diner takeout sure looked promising right about now.

"Rise and shine, dynamic duo! Breakfast's here- Oh."

As Claire's bright eyes inevitably land on the two of you, she stops right in her tracks, just blinking at you for a second or two. Sherry, in turn, appears to be just as surprised, not that you expected anything else at this point.

...And you feel a strong urge to sink straight into the ground.

As if he's been burned, Leon abruptly jerks away from you and releases his hold on your face. Your heart pounds all the way up in your throat, and you can already feel the heat of embarrassment rushing to your face. Glancing over at Leon, he doesn't seem to be handling it all that much better, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted in silent protest that just didn't form yet. Though, there is also a subtle hint of embarrassed annoyance flashing through his eyes as he meets Claire's look. A look that is no longer surprised, but instead, expecting. And a bit smug.

You're in for a questioning.

As expected, she is quick to regain her cool, raising her brows at both of you and closing the door with her hips, an incredulous snort leaving her lips. You can already guess that she's not going to live this down for the two of you. Before you can open your mouth and stutter out some type of excuse that would hopefully sound decent, Leon beats you to it.

"Jesus Christ, Claire! Knock much?" he grumbles out in a raspy and slightly trembling voice. If it wasn't for the burning embarrassment raging inside your head, you would have thought that was cute. He isn't really fooling anyone.

"Excuse me," Claire muses in a slightly humorous manner. "Care to tell what's gotten you shirtless? Or... who?"

Now it's up to you to sputter as you stumble over your words to try and rectify the situation.

"I-I was just changing his bandages!"

Claire just laughs at that, with Sherry now joining in a fit of giggles. The sound is lighthearted in nature, though. Just harmless fun that just happens to be at your expense. Well, partially. Your only choice is to accept your defeat, hanging your head low with a flustered groan. Leon's embarrassment only increases as laughter rings out. He crosses his arms over his chest, a pout quickly taking form on his face.

"Ugh, you two really have a knack for bad timing. And... for the record, it's none of your business what we were doing," even though he tries to sound irritated, his flushed face and the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips diminish the desired effect, making his effort useless.

"-Whatever you say, loverboy," Claire deadpans, giving you both a knowing smirk as she waves Leon off. It's apparent that she doesn't believe any of your shared excuses. Not that you can blame her. You'd probably act the same if you switched places. She takes her sweet time placing the warm fast-food bags on the nearest counter and brushing her hands off on her jeans. "Anyway, you better get dressed before the grub gets cold and soggy."

In spite of all the embarrassment, you can't help but chuckle sheepishly and shake your head. Despite being flustered, it's almost... comforting to share such a normal, simple moment over some silly accident instead of a high-stakes situation. You'll take getting teased by Claire over running for your life any day.

You watch as Leon huffs and puffs at Claire fruitlessly. He mumbles something inaudible under his breath, unfolding his arms, and quickly walking across the room to pick up his discarded shirt from the ground. He hastily puts it back on, all while stealing a couple of glances back at you. You don't know if he's trying to subtle about it, but if he is, it's definitely not working. A small, almost bashful smile appears on his face as he does, similar to the one you give to your crush when you think they're not looking. It's cute. You can't help but return it with a smile of your own.

"Well I think you two look cute," Sherry joins in, her hands resting on her hips as her blue eyes dart between you two with eager curiosity. You can already tell that you're in for a game of 20 questions after this. Or something similar.

"Cute, huh...?" Sherry's charming comment seems to inspire Leon's bashful smile to grow in confidence while he looks down at her. He almost appears a bit cheeky, as raises an eyebrow and gives you a quick side-eyed look. "What do you think? Do we make a cute couple?"

"...Don't get cocky now," you huff out with a lighthearted roll of your eyes, prompting him and Claire to chuckle.

As you go to grab some much-needed food, you feel oddly light, both in mind and spirit. All the anxieties and uncertainties about your future seem to have eased away, letting you enjoy the peacefulness of now, instead of worrying about tomorrow.

Whatever happens next, you just know that everything will turn out fine.

As long as you stick together.

#resident evil #resident evil 2 remake #re2r #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil 2 remake leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #re2r leon x reader #UHHHH i think i tagged it okay??? re fandom's etiquette with tagging on here is confusing to me lmao #do let me know if i messed it up :)#anyways re fic debut yippee #last time i wrote for leon was in my teenage years lmao i do hope i gave this boy justice #even if in different form #spoiler alert: they do NOT stick together #kinda wish i made claire's scene a bit longer bc i love her sm #also fun fact: i went and listened to leon's voice files in re2r to help with his dialogue #got baffled by how much he swears #had to go and redo his dialogue after that😭#it's kinda funny how he doesn't swear as much while you play #that or i just didn't notice bc i was swearing up a storm myself #english is not really my first language btw so sorry if there are some weird phrases here and there #pretty sure i wrote nightstand as bedstand.... i can't remember if i fixed it or not

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