ββββββΰΌΊβ‘ΰΌ»ββββββ Chalice here!! 17 yrs. Resident Evil is my current death sentence. I draw too but I donβt post much ββββββΰΌΊβ‘ΰΌ»ββββββ https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/thank-you/#1 Do your daily clicks!!
Read that Leon had a sketchbook and was the one who designed his gun Matilda. SO I latched onto that idea like a chubby kid at a cake factory and had to draw a doodle of Leon drawing!
For me personally, I think he would be pretty good at it. Guns are BITCH to draw, so him being able to design one tells me he's gotta at least have some skill. I also bet he doesn't think he's talented (even though he is) and is shy about showing his drawings, so he usually only draws when he's alone in his room.
((Luis finds out about this and finds Leon shyness about it both adorable and a little sad. He wants Leon to feel comfortable about his hobby so he'll buy Leon sketchbooks and pencils, sometimes leaving them in his room for him to find.))
((After that, a lot of Luis and Leon's notes to each other have small doodles on them, and one of Luis's desks draws is CRAMMED with these notes. He never throws them out and keeps every single one.))
((Funny enough, Rucio likes to watch Leon draw. The little bug finds the whole process fascinating. Way later on in the AU, Rucio asks Leon if he can control their hand to try and draw, and Leon agrees, trusting Rucio completely at this point. It's also the first time EVER Rucio has taken control, and even then, hes only using Leon's arm and hand. Rucio manages to draw a cat, it's absolutely terrible, but the Rucio has a ton of fun and Leon can't help but feel amused and endeared by the by the bug's enthusiasm.))
A comic about poor Leon experiencing the worst case of the munchies he's ever had in his life after his mutation.
After burning off nearly all of his energy to fuel the transformation, plus the added nutrients Matilda needs to produce his venom, means that every time the group stops or takes a break, poor Leon is probably scarfing down as much candy as he can before they move on.
Honestly Leon's sweet tooth is kinda ruining the serious atmosphere.
@polarspaz OKAY SO- this is another take on a RookieBug transformation scene, this time with 100% more Marvin! And 100% more angst! (I need to put some of this on ao3 eventually yeesh this is nearly 3k-) I swear I meant for this to have more fluff but instead we've got some cathartic crying for both of them (oops)
Marvin hunches over the computer, switching between the remaining security feeds as he scans the hallways of the R.P.D. One hand drums against his leg, silently damning the limp that leaves him here in (relative) safety while others are out searching. Still, the cameras are a stroke of luck, regardless of Marvinβs feelings on being overwatch. Itβs a much safer way of figuring out where the infected have broken through the remaining defenses and where those damned Lickers are.
As if to taunt him, the sound of a door slamming echoes through the atrium. Marvinβs head snaps up, hand going for his pistol as he stands. He scans the main floor and upper balcony, cautious that an infected might have breached the main hall. But, thankfully, Marvin only sees a now-familiar head of blond hair approaching from one of the lower doors, movements too quick to be one of the shambling corpses.
The rookie. Leon Kennedy.
βRookie, good to see you,β Marvin greets, taking his hand off his pistol. Of course, it would be better if the rookie had never come here at all, if he had just listened when he was told to stay away, but whatβs done is done. Leonβs here now, and Marvin will allow himself to be happy to see the young man alive and intact.
Exceptβ¦ Marvinβs eyes narrow as he sees Leon stumble, hands clutching his sides. And then, Leon falls.Β
βLeon!β Marvin rushes over to the rookie, ignoring the pain shooting up his leg as he kneels beside the young man. Leon groans as Marvin touches his shoulder, folding over himself. Marvin scans Leonβs uniform, looking for any bite marks or other injuries, but thereβs nothing visible. His sleeves are stained with the half-coagulated blood of the zombies, but none of the blood is fresh enough to be Leonβs.
βTalk to me, rookie,β Marvin orders, even as he pries at Leonβs arms, trying to see if thereβs an injury beneath. βWhatβs wrong?β
ββurts,β Leon mutters through gritted teeth. βEverythinβ on fire.β The young manβs breathing is sharp and shallow, just this side of hyperventilating. He groans, bending over himself, nearly pressing his forehead to the floor. Still, the boy has enough wherewithal to answer the question Marvinβs really after. βNo bites. Checked.β
Marvin hums. Carefully, he helps Leon up, guiding the young man to one of the lobbyβs couches. Leon obeys without complaint, collapsing onto the bench as soon as Marvin starts to ease him down. While Leon grits his teeth, so hard Marvin can hear them grinding together, the Lieutenant strips Leon of his bullet-proof vest for a more thorough examination.
But even on a second look, Marvin canβt find any bites, not even a scratch, to explain Leonβs condition. But thereβs clearly something wrong, Leonβs forehead is beaded with sweat, muscles locked so tight itβs a wonder he can even breathe.
βWhat can you tell me, kid?β Marvin asks, desperate for some way he can help, but first he needs to know what the hell is wrong. (Aside from the zombie apocalypse happening outside.)
Leon shakes his head silently. βStomach βurts,β he mutters, arms clamped around his midsection. He barks a quiet, pained laugh. βCourse I get the flu at a time like this. Fuck.β
Marvin presses his fingers to Leonβs forehead, frowning. The rookie is abnormally warm, and his skin feels far too dry, almost papery. Marvin has to pull his hand back as Leon starts coughing, body shaking from the force of it. And then, Leon gags, and Marvin jerks back as blood splatters over the kidβs hand.
The coughs turn wet, but even with Leonβs blood staining the tile, they donβt stop. Marvin can do little more than brace Leonβs shoulders as the boy continues to wheeze, red spilling over his lips. Finally the coughing fit subsides, wet choking turning to soft gasps. Marvin rubs the rookieβs back, swallowing back the pervasive feeling of useless thatβs hung over him for the past week.
Without warning, Leon pitches forward. Marvin just barely catches the kid before he gets a face full of tile. Slowly, Marvin eases Leon into a sitting position on the ground, and then nudges the rookie to lie on his side. Leon obeys, chest rattling with wheezy breaths.
βWhaβs happeninβ to me?β Leon gasps as he folds into the fetal position, knees drawn to his chest.
Marvin doesnβt know. Something is wrong. None of the people who currently stalk the halls had shown symptoms like thisβ¦ whatever it is, itβs something else. And Marvinβs just as powerless to help Leon as he was for the civilians whoβd come to the station seeking refuge.Β
Leon lets out a whimper, curling so tight Marvin swears he can hear the kidβs bones creaking. Exceptβ¦ he can hear creaking.Β
Frowning, Marvin leans closer to Leon, and fuck, it is the kid. Beneath Leonβs groans of pain, Marvin can hear muffled cracks and pops, like those of fractured bone and popping joints. Instantly, Marvinβs alarm climbs. Is this because of how tightly wound Leonβs is?! Fuck, is it possible to break your own bone just by muscle tension?! Marvinβs no doctor, but he canβt rule it out.
βLeon,β Marvin says, grabbing the rookieβs shoulder, shaking him. βLeon, you have to relax!β
The rookieβs only answer is a keening noise and compressing himself further. Marvinβs grip tightens on the rookieβs shoulder andβ¦ he pauses. The hell? The kidβs shirt looksβ¦ tighter than it did a second ago, fabric stretched thin over his chest. Fuck, heβs seeing things.
Marvin shifts his gaze to Leonβs head. He brushes the hair from Leonβs face, pressing his fingers to the kidβs pulse point. The muscles in the rookieβs neck are so taut the entire expanse of skin is rigid. Marvin can barely feel a pulse beneath his fingers. Marvin glances at Leonβs face, screwed up in utter agony.Β
βCome on, rookie,β Marvin pleads, as if Leon can do anymore to stop this than he can. As Marvin watches, the skin of Leonβs face and neck discolors, like a rapidly forming bruise. Itβs alarming, but even more so is that something is moving under the skin of Leonβs cheek.
It could easily be Leon running his tongue along the inside of his mouth. Except Leonβs jaw is clenched so tightly shut Marvinβs half sure heβs cracked a tooth.
As Marvin watches in horror, the thing continues to writhe, pushing outward, until it finally stretches the skin too far. The skin of Leonβs cheek tears away, revealing exposed teeth and red gums, twitching protrusions flaring out from Leonβs skull, covered in remnants of skin.Β
Marvin swears as the wriggling things are bared to the air, scrambling back. He watches, terrified, as the rip in Leonβs skin grows, running past the kidβs jaw and down his neck. As the skin splits it starts to peel away, revealing something darker beneath. Something that isnβt skin. And itβs then that Leon starts to scream.
The kidβs head snaps back and he lets out a bloodcurdling screech of pure agony. As he does, Marvin gets a front row seat to how his lower jaw splits in two, unfurling alongside the new appendages into a bloom of red flesh and sharpened teeth. Marvin shoves himself back as Leon starts writhing on the ground, arms wrapped around his body like it can contain whatever horror is fighting to tear itself free.
But as Marvin has learned so vividly the past week, the horrors do not often sit quietly.
Leonβs legs kick out as if to save him from his invisible attacker. The boots split along their seams and something that is anything but human unfurls. Talons, honest to god talons, like those given to dinosaurs, are suddenly clawing at the air, at the ground. They rake over the back of Leonβs calves, shredding fabric and ripping away skin to expose the same slick brown that coats Leonβs neck. The same brown that coats his arms beneath peeling ragged skin.
Oh God, oh Godβ¦
Beneath the screams and Marvinβs own thundering heartbeat, he can hear the sound of fabric ripping, seams snapping. And then, without warning, there is suddenly a third limb flailing through the air alongside Leonβs legs, pulled from his spine. A tail. A fucking goddamned tail. With every convulsion the tail seems to get longer and longer. It lashes wildly in response to its ownerβs pain, scattering chairs and old privacy screens dividers in a cacophony of crashing metal. It is heavy and deadly and just the impact could kill him, regardless of intention.
Marvin scrambles back further until he can go no further, pressed flush against a wall as he stares and stares and staresβΒ
After what seems like an eternity, the thrashing slows, then stops. Leon, or whatever he is now, finally stills, slumping motionless on the tile floor of the R.P.D. The ground is stained with blood and torn scraps of flesh, Leonβs skin, litter the ground like confetti.
No no what the fuck no what the hell oh godβ Marvinβs mind is a mass of static and white noise, no true thought except all-encompasing horror that is steeped into every neuron. That, and a lingering thought, a candle flame he hadnβt realized had still been lit, snuffed out in a spray of blood. (A spray of blood as he shot Brad in the throat, mouth gaped open in gurgling apology.)
Not Leon tooβ
Marvin slowly continues to retreat, eyes locked on Leon as he begins to shift and move. The rookieβor what was his rookieβpants, open mouthed, the appendages on his face flaring. Leonβs back arches, flexing pointed overlapping plates that have torn through his shirt. They rattle, stretching up and tearing a few more seams with each panting breath. The tail that now stretches behind him scrapes against the tile, long and serpentine, tipped with a wicked-looking stinger like a scorpion from hell.
As Leon continues to pant, he shakes his head, the hair that still adorns the top of his head falling over his face. Slowly, the once-young-man sits up, on his hands and knees, raising his head. And Marvin can only freeze as Leon lays eyes on him.Β
The eyes are still blue.
Marvin murmurs a silent prayer, to a God he no longer thinks exists, the weight of his pistol heavy at his side. If whatever Leon is now wants him dead, there isnβt much Marvin can do to stop him. And at this point, with Leon gone tooβ¦ Marvin would let him.
The lieutenant barely breathes as Leon watches him, eyes squinted. Slowly, Leon raises a hand, rubbing at his eyes. And then he pauses, hand hovering in front of him for a split second before he throws himself backward. Marvin belatedly flinches at the rapid movement, and then again from the loud clatter as Leonβs back slams into the low wall behind him.
The rookieβs chest is heaving, straining the blue uniform that still clings to his expanded torso. He scrabbles at the wall behind him, taloned legs kicking out again, batting his nearby tail away. Marvin can see Leon wince at the impact before he abruptly goes still again, only broken by the occasional twitch of his arms and legs.
Marvinβs blood is pounding in his ears. The floor is cold and hard beneath him.
The air reeks of iron, but then, itβs smelled like that for days now.Β
Then, slowly, the legs unfurl. Leon shifts, tail slithering across the floor. The rookieβs handsβone clawed and armored, the other still resembling the human he wasβare brought in front of him. Marvin watches. He watches as Leon blinks downs at his hands, as he flexes them. He watches as Leonβs breathing accelerates, tail-tip rattling against the tile. He watches as Leon brings mismatched hands to his face, feeling over exposed teeth and gums and twitching appendages.Β
Marvin watches. And he sees Leonβs eyes widen as he realizes the state of his body. He sees something undeniably panicked, in wide eyes and rapid breaths. Something undeniably human.
Oh god, heβs still lucidβ
βLeonβ¦?β
Marvinβs voice comes out as barely a whisper, but itβs all it takes for Leonβs gaze to snap to him. The rookieβs eyes blow wider, pupils mere pinpricks, and he jerks away from Marvin. Marvin canβt truly read Leonβs expression, the entire lower half of his face gone and in pieces on the floor, but the eyes say it well enough.Β
The rookie is terrified.
(Marvin is too.)
Leon scoots further back from Marvinβand at any other time, in any other situation, in any other place, he might have found it comical to see such a giant insect-like creature skittering away from a measly human. The rookie is shaking, his entire body trembling in fear as he stares at Marvin. As if Marvin is the one with claws and fangs. Exceptβ¦ no, Marvin realizes, as Leonβs shaking hand lowers toward the holster still clinging to his leg, Leonβs not scared of Marvin.
Leonβs scared for Marvin.
Scared of himself.
βLeonβ!β Marvin exclaims as his voice cracks. He raises his hands, trying to get the kid to put the gun down, look at me. But he doesnβt get to say any of that, before thereβs a loud crash from elsewhere in the atrium and a chorus of wet guttural groans.Β
Marvin snaps his eyes from Leon toward the sound, heart climbing in his throat. Fuck, theyβve broken through! He pushes himself to his feet, cursing the pain in his knee, until his eyes alight on the corpses that are staggering out from under a gap in one of shutters. Shit, shit, they must have been drawn by Leonβs screams. Marvinβs hand hovers over his pistol, eyeing the zombies. Fuck. He doesnβt have that many bullets.
Before Marvin can think further, heβs scooped him off the ground. He yelps, flailing for a half second as heβs cradled to a blue-shirted chest and suddenly heβs moving. Marvin looks up, stomach in his throat, only to blink as he looks up at Leon. The rookie holds him close, the atrium blurring past as he sprints and jumps to the second floor balcony. Then the kid is shoving open the door to the second floor waiting room with his shoulder and bundling both of them inside before he slams it shut.
The arms that held Marvin suddenly relax their grip. The lieutenant slips free, staggering slightly as he bears his own weight again. Marvin glances back at Leon, who has slid to the ground, back resting against the door. The rookieβs eyes are distant, shining with unshed tears.
Marvin moves closer, carefully resting his hand on Leonβs shoulder. Itβs theβ¦ new one. Instead of skin, whatβs beneath his hand is something more akin to crab shell. Itβs hard and rigid, and oddly smooth, though as Marvin runs his fingers over it, he can feel small bumps and a roughness akin to the bristles of chin hairs he missed shaving.
Eventually, Leon turns his head to look at Marvin. His eyes, all three, stare at Marvin, blue and overflowing with tears. The kid sniffles, the appendages on his faceβmandibles, perhaps, considering the similarity to an arthropodβflaring away from his face.Β
βMarvin?β the kid whispers, barely audible, but the man hears it.
βIβm here, rookie,β Marvin says, his other hand reaching up to Leonβs unarmored bicep. Beneath his hand, Leonβs arm feels simultaneously too big and much too thin for its size. Marvin rubs circles into the skin. βIβm not going anywhere.β
Leon chokes, the dam finally breaking as he lets out a harsh, guttural sob. Tears spill down his cheeks and over his exposed gums. The tail, Leonβs tail, wraps around him, which just makes Leon sob harder. Marvin leans into the kid, wrapping his arms around the too-large chest and hugging him as best he can.
(Despite Leonβs new size, he feels too thin, too lanky. Thereβs a pallor to his skin, a softness to his carapace, that Marvin canβt help but worry about. Heβs far too big, he weighs too little.)
The rookieβs body shakes with the force of his sobs while Marvin quietly holds him. Itβs a nameless grief, a fear they both know too well. One made manifest and all the more potent by the people turned mindless monsters that stalk the stationβs halls.Β
Itβll be okay, Marvin doesnβt say, because he canβt promise that. Not while monsters stalk the halls. Not while Leon is shaking, a tail he shouldnβt have wound tight around them, claws digging into what remains of his sleeves. Instead Marvin hugs the boy tighterβso young, too youngβtrying to press all the things he canβt say into the null space between them. They canβt stay here forever, soon they will need to stand up, keep going. But for the moment, they sit, Marvinβs rookie-turned-monster held tight in his arms.
OMG THAT ENDING.
LORD HAVE MERCY MY HEART IS EXPLODING OUT OF MY CHEST.
AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
No SERIOUSLY THAT WAS SO DEVASTATINGLY SWEET AND SAD AND FUCKING PEFECT.
ALL OF THIS WAS UTTER PEFECTION! Leon's transformation, Marvin's reactions and thoughts, THE SICK ASS JUMP TO THE SECOND FLOOR? Marvin getting to be the first to experience mama scorpion Leon???? THE FUCKING HUG-(Thank GOD Marvin lives at the end of this AU! The brotherly/fatherly/mentor relationship he has with Leon in this AU IS FUCKING GLORIOUS!!!)
AGH THANK YOU! AMAZING AS ALWAYS! AGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
Your art is absolutely gorgeous it deserves to have more recognition if I was Leonardo Da Vinci I would be proud of this generation I really hope you achieve your dream and here's a infinite supply of waffles
Hey there! I wanted to let you know that I reported your account when I meant to report someone else. It was a mistake, and I hope it didnβt cause any issues. I received a ticket from Tumblr and can share it with you if youβd like I'm not able to send you a message right now, though, and Iβm not sure why.
No worries lolll I havenβt had any issues so far!! Thanks for lettin me know π«
I am Hamza from Gaza, a husband and father of four children. Before the war, I worked and provided for my family, and we lived a simple but
I am Hamza from Gaza, a husband and father of four children. Before the war, I worked and provided for my family, and we lived a simple but stable life. Since the war began, everything has changed. We were displaced many times, and our home was eventually completely destroyed, leaving us without shelter or stability.
During this period, I was seriously injured in my hand while trying to obtain food for my children, which left me unable to work and in need of surgery I cannot afford. My young daughter Amira was also injured and urgently needs medical treatment. We have lost relatives, our home, and all our belongings, and we are now living in a tent under very harsh conditions. My youngest daughter, Aya, was born during the war and needs basic supplies and care.
I created this campaign to seek support for my family β to help cover urgent medical treatment, food, and essential needs for my children. Any support, no matter how small, can make a real difference and give my family hope for a safer, more dignified life. π€
Wanted to show what biblically accurate Verdugo Leon looks like when he's able to transform back into a human again thanks to Luis.
There are two major changes that Leon fix completely, and those are his eyes and his height. The shortest he can make himself is like, 7.3 feet tall, so he's still towers over everyone. His eyes on the other hand are very sensitive to light and hes forced to wear sunglasses when he's outside.
The top doodle is Leon interrogating one of the members from a Bio-terrorist group that were dumb enough kidnapped Luis to try and make him work for them. Don't worry though, Luis will be fine. Can't say the same for the organization though, especially when a 10 foot tall bug monster shows up on the doorstep, unbelievably pissed off.
Luis is HORRIBLE at flying. He gets better as time goes on, but his Plaga has a hard time in the beginning adjusting how fast they can fly without causing his host to vomit. So when Luis starts to fly, he just takes off like a shot, and usually won't stop until he either collides into something, or he's lucky enough someone manages to grab him. (99% of the time, it's Leon)
