- Little Bird (Sanchoumou x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Romantic)
- You’ve Made a Mess Out of Me (Kasen Kanesada x Reader, Romantic, Smut)
- I’m Here, My Child (Kogarasumaru & Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic/Familial)
- Valentines Day Special: Making Chocolates for You HCs (Kasen, Izuminokami, Mutsunokami, Romantic, Fluff)
- Feathers of a Pheasant (Sanchoumou x Reader (Romantic, fluff-ish), also some Nikkari Aoe x Ishikirimaru)
- My Own Private Gallery (Kasen Kanesada x Reader, Romantic, smut)
- Driving Headcanons with the Touken Danshi (Can be interpreted as romantic or just platonic, Headcanons, fluff, comedic)
- The Veil Between Us (Sanchoumou x Reader, Romantic, Hurt/Comfort)
- Preparing for a New Life (A HomeGoods Adventure) (Astarion Ancunin x Gender Neutral!Reader/Tav, Modern!AU)
- The Price of Freedom (Astarion Ancunin x Gender Neutral!Reader/Tav, Character Study, Astarion POV, Heavy Angst)
Resident Evil
- A Sweet Treat (Grace Ashcroft x Gender Neutral! Reader, Fluff)
- The Ghosts of You (Leon S. Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Reader Series, Angst)
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Shortcut to all writing (although it might not work keep in mind, Tumblr is weird):
- #my writing
- #my ramblings
- Also assume that these readers will either be gender neutral and go by they/them unless specified! Also because I’m non-binary and I can do what I want! More coming soon!
i genuinely think that it's so so valuable to have stories about people that have done horrible things existing. and getting better. and worse. forgiven and resented. seeing their crimes age with them, their weight shifting, shrinking, growing. is it redemption? further corruption? is it just existence?
you lived, now what? is i think one of the more interesting questions we can pose with fiction, and i think it's maybe one of the most powerful vehicles for conveying the notion that there is no point at which you stop being a person. the most unforgivable irreparable harms are caused by people making choices. and we will make bad ones and keep making them. you're not immune. no one you love is immune.
and crucially, we don't necessarily build a better world by defining criterion for forgiveness, redemption, punishment, penance. forgiveness is relational and as much about the person who has been harmed as it is about the culprit. punishment's effect is rarely improvement. societally, our ideas of redemption and penance are firmly rooted in legalistic notions of judgement — whether based on human morals or divine — where personhood and worthiness are contingent on ticking off boxes that we could argue endlessly about redefining and relitigating.
if you move the story out of that frame, though, it's not a story about "making it up." its a story about living. it's a story about making choices. it's about reflecting on the ones you've made. it's about their impact on your relationships, your sense of self. and i think that inherently has value.
you're going to fuck up. you're going to do something bad. you're going to hurt someone. you might be forgiven for it. you might carry it with you forever. you'll always be the person who did that, so long as you live. but you're going to live. you have not become a different category of person condemned to non-existence. you still have choices to make. you get to keep making them. that's the point.
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This is - legitimately - my favourite delivery of Shakespeare I have EVER seen (and I have seen some good-ass productions yo, in the Globe Theatre itself even). Like seriously, even though the words are unchanged, he’s stripped away ALL of the archaic pretense and assumed grandeur of ~presenting the bard~ that makes even the most wildly talented of actors and innovative of productions inherently inaccessible to a modern audience. Like, they’re still great, they can still communicate the message and (some) of the nuance, but they’re still always a step removed from being identifiable to any viewer’s lived experience. They’re still always reciting 15th century poetry. But this guy? This guy is like, screw iambic pentameter, to hell with being precious about the material, HOW WOULD AN ACTUAL PERSON SAY THIS SHIT?
Like this. And it’s beautiful. It’s beautiful to hear a soliloquy I loved so much already, and have it come to life in a way it never, ever, did before. I feel like I grasp his motivations, his twists and turns, no longer on an academic level but on a visceral, instinctive one. Because he’s presenting his mental and emotional journey in a way that speaks honestly, like a real person.
So yeah, this shit post? I love it. Deeply and sincerely.
Characters: Leon S Kennedy, Reader (using they/them)
A/N: Be careful for what you wish for.
The empty cold filled your arms once more, your arms spreading out across the sheets to find that warmth once more. But alas your attempts were fruitless, there was no one to be felt. Perhaps it was only a dream, a mere figment of your own drunken imagination. But… when you opened your eyes, you blinked twice.
This. This wasn't your bedroom. This wasn't your apartment. Where in the hell were you.
Four black walls surrounded you while a solitary hanging light bulb hung from the cracked ceiling. There was only one nightstand beside you, despite the bed being centered. Even with the table on the other side of the room, there weren't any personal affects or even a clock. You checked the right wall beside you once again, at least there was a window albeit covered by some curtains. Sighing, you slipped out of the springy bed to throw open the dreary curtains.
Only to find that that was nothing but the same drywall that surrounded you. Shakily, you took a few steps back to find a door, any door of this place. The only door out of this room blended in with the rest of its dark surroundings but you found the muted knob despite it. It shook as you turned it ever so slowly, you just hoped that it wasn't a zombie on the other side.
The door creaked open to darkness, your knuckles turning white from how hard you gripped the doorknob. Heavy breaths were the only thing you could hear, yet you persisted. You had to go back to your own life after all, no matter how much you missed Leon. With another shaky breath, you took a step forward into the void.
Despite your internal clock telling you it was morning, you couldn't spot any light so you felt around the wall beside you for any light switches. When you flicked it on, there wasn't much to see which didn't really soothe your fears whatsoever.
There was only an old wooden table with a single stool to accompany it, sure there was a kitchenette but it was more akin to an oven with an optional couple of stoves. There wasn't even a microwave in this place. But what you really needed was an exit so you stormed past the table to the door at the corner of the room, you jiggled the door knob to no avail.
A small electronic chirp filled your ears as you kept trying to force the door open, lo and behold a keypad was blocking your way. Fuck, you needed a combination number. You bit your lip and tried a few different combinations.
Leon's birthday? Denied.
A simple 123456? Denied.
September 30th, 1998? Denied.
And when you tried to put in another combination number, an electronic voice echoed throughout the room once more.
'Maximum number of failed attempts reached. Locked for the next 24 hours.'
Shit. You threw your hands up in the air in frustration, just perfect. Well you supposed that you could just text your supervisor that you weren't going to make it. You reached for your phone in your pocket to find nothing but lint. You swore you put your phone in your pocket before you passed out-
The table held very little other than empty beer bottles, a few used cigarettes, and the one dirty plate. However what you did find was a familiar Polaroid, within its white borders was you and Leon. More specifically, you were covering half of your face with your hand that had a gleaming engagement ring on it while Leon kissed your cheek. Written in Sharpie underneath it was: 'Love of my life.'
You hadn't seen this photo in so long, you had almost thought Leon had lost it so many years ago. But now it's here in this place with no windows or clocks. You quickly sniffed the air to make sure you didn't smell any burnt toast. No, all you smelt was booze and cigarettes.
Looking back at the Polaroid, you flipped it to its backside to only find the word 'Forever' written in something… red. You didn't like how it smelled coppery so you dropped it as if it burned you. It slowly floated down beside a cigarette butt, your hands trembled as your back hit the wall.
This was all just a dream, it must be.
Before your thoughts could wander even further, another familiar chirp reached your ears. The metal door scraped the floor with Leon on the other side, if it wasn't your ex, there was a chance you could've rushed past him. But you knew better.
A light sparkled in his eyes when he saw you, he lifted up a plastic bag of take-out.
"Hungry? I'm sure you must be, you've been out for so long."
His lips twitched when he was met with silent stares.
"I got your favorite or what I remembered to be your favorite, come on. You know it's me."
He tried stepping closer to you but noticed where you were looking. Leon turned around to place the take-out on the table and picked up the Polaroid. His finger tips rubbed against the film before taking another step towards you.
"Baby. I know you're scared."
You averted your trembling eyes to the ground.
"But you don't have to be afraid of me," He gently reached for your shoulders.
"I'm making sure that sicko doesn't touch you."
Your breathing stilled as you looked up at him.
He smiled back at you, warmth pooling in his eyes.
Why did you ever doubt him? How could you?
"Sorry for all that, I just… missed you so much. I couldn't wait any longer to hold you, even if I should've explained everything. But I just wanted to make sure you're actually here."
You leaned into his chest. "You fucking idiot, I thought you kidnapped me."
His hand gently caressed your head, "Sorry, but I couldn't risk us being followed. I needed to make sure you were safe first, sorry about your phone. 'Can't use it until we deal with the guy and can't really disclose our location either. Umbrella might be involved."
Your head snapped away from Leon's chest, "No- They're supposed to be gone-"
"Well I think you know better, baby. Some guys don't know when to quit, especially the Doc."
Your hands dug deep into Leon's back.
He cooed into your ears, "Don't worry your pretty little head about it, I've got it covered. But for now, you have to stay here while I go investigate. I'll come by as often as possible."
Despite his words of comfort, your breathing heaved rapidly. The nightmare never ended, you would never escape that hell. The blood encrusted deep underneath your fingernails and the countless screams that plagued your nights after you had escaped. They were just toying with in your apartment, if Leon hadn't been there-
As you continued to spiral and cling to his arms, Leon continued to caress your head in an attempt to soothe you. And yet… he couldn't help the smirk that curled upon his lips.
Characters: Leon S Kennedy, Reader (using they/them)
A/N: And so it begins. Also for the sake of simplicity Leon here looks just as how he looked in Resident Evil 4 as to clear up any confusion.
There was a empty pit in our chest whenever you laid your head on your pillow. Only one person in a king sized bed, never daring to sleep in its center. Instead you stare into the far off wall, almost as if you expected him to be there. Of course you couldn't keep your eyes open forever but the pillow you held onto was a poor substitute for the warmth you craved.
In the vast darkness that overtook you, a familiar warmth burrowed its way into the pit of your heart. You held onto it tight. Subconsciously your grip grew tighter, however… it tugged on a part of you. And it started to hurt.
Your eyes snapped open and you tried to push whoever it was away from you, but their ironclad grip on your body rendered your attempts fruitless.
"Baby… go back to bed."
No, it can't be. You looked up to see the same blonde hair you used to play with at night and the lashes you couldn't help but admire when you thought Leon was sleeping… It couldn't be him.
So you kept trying to push him away, Leon soon had enough of this. He roughly grabbed your hands and held them above your head, "I told you to go back to bed."
Freezing in place, you obeyed.
"There. Now was that so hard?" With his eyes now wide open, there was no mistaking it. His ocean blue eyes stared back at you, this was Leon S Kennedy returning to you after so many years. But why now?
His eyes lingered on your face, for a unbearable moment it bore directly into your own before moving on. Your lips, your neck, even your the dip in your collar, nothing escaped his ravenous gaze. An eerie smile stretched across his face, "You're really here."
Leon dropped his full body's weight onto you to fully smother you in his embrace, you couldn't breathe.
With an exclamation of your name, Leon cooed, "I missed you so much and I know you missed me. Dreams couldn't compare to the real you."
You couldn't even get out a syllable due to the weight pressing upon you. Large biceps threatened to cut off your oxygen supply as Leon burrowed his face into the crook of your neck. You puttered out some attempts at words while your former partner littered the side of your neck with quick kisses.
Was he always this affectionate?
Before your oxygen supply was depleted, Leon moved away so he could cup your face thereby smushing your cheeks into your lips. His hands slid down your face towards your neck, caressing the sides of it. He leaned down to kiss up from your clavicle to the tip of your chin however, you had other plans.
Maneuvering his face away from your skin, you coughed out, "Why are you here. Why now?"
Leon let out a whine from being interrupted.
"Actually what time is it? Shit. I have a meeting I have to go to-"
You tried shoving your former lover off of you yet he still wouldn't budge, his knuckles growing white with how deep his fingers were digging into you.
"You're not leaving. I won't let you, you're not leaving me again-
While you couldn't kick his built body off of yourself, you grabbed his face and yanked it off your midsection. Your grip forced him to look you directly into your eyes to which he stopped his rumination, "Leon. I need to go to work, I'm not fucking joking. We can-"
You exhaled harshly through your nose, "We can discuss this later, I promise. I just- I really need to go to this meeting."
The two of you stared deep into each other's eyes until you had realized that there were tears in his eyes. His lips quivered, "Do you really have to go?"
Shit.
"… I guess I can stay for 10 more minutes-"
Before you should get out another word, Leon's lips combined into yours. His rough hands dug into the back of your head, fingers digging into your skull. It wouldn't let go, not now. You couldn't breathe and so you disappeared into the void once more. At least you weren't alone anymore.
Characters: Leon S Kennedy, Reader (using they/them)
A/N: A shorter chapter to transition between the main segments, but the imagery at the end of the fic is what emboldened me to create the series in the first place.
The heavy slam of your door echoed throughout your apartment, you heaved and huffed as you readied a fist against your wall. Yet your fist stilled just as it was about to make contact with drywall, it soon fell to your side. A heavy sigh released from your lips with your forehead sliding onto the cold paint.
You smacked your forehead against the drywall once more as the most irritating voice wormed its way back into your eardrums.
"I'm so sorry but there's simply nothing we can do," Your landlord said while fiddling with his thumbs.
Bullshit, yet you held your tongue to say, "What do you mean there's nothing you can do."
He kept avoiding your gaze and scratched the nape of his neck, "Well for one, we found no evidence of someone being in your apartment. We can't really… contact any authorities for something that isn't there."
"But there is evidence," You gritted your teeth.
A glint of sweat dripped from your landlord's forehead, "Well I wouldn't really consider missing underwear evidence…"
You crossed your arms.
"Hey- You know what I think? Maybe you're just stressed, wound up even."
"Excuse me?"
"It's all that work and stress that's been weighing on your mind, making you see things that aren't there and getting all paranoid! You should go out and have fun! Meet 'someone' or 'two'."
You narrowed your eyes at him.
"Hey, I remember you used to live here with some guy a couple of years ago. I swore I saw him not too long ago, maybe hit him up! After all you don't get a man like that everyday! Get your joints all loose if you know what I'm saying! Haha ha…"
Your silence was all he needed to hear. Old man was probably seeing things.
He eyed the door out of his office and patted you on the back, "Well, it was so nice to chat with you, but I have a meeting coming up. Important business and all that but do keep my words in mind. After all, we're all a bit jumpy these days. Take a load off and if anything else happens, just let us know."
You couldn't even get a single word out before you promptly pushed out of his office. Another smack against the drywall brought you out of it, you looked to your side and into the kitchen. Fuck it, maybe he was right. Maybe all you needed was to relax and what better way to relax than to break a promise.
Making your way to your kitchen cabinets, you rummaged through various bottles clinking together to pull out a wine bottle. Dusty and clearly has seen better days, but it was just what you needed. With a bit more clinking, you managed to pull out a singular wine glass, leaving its companion all alone in the dark cupboard.
Dammit, where was that bottle opener? You continued rummaging around your drawers until a dusty corkscrew was in your palm, it caused you to cough when you finally pulled it out of its resting place. You stuck it into the cork and grumbled as it fought against you, what were you even doing right now?
Was all of this even worth the hangover in the morning? The cork moved at a snail's pace up the bottle neck. You saw Leon in his worst moments when he was drunk, saying things he didn't mean and making you feel so alone. When he finally got help, Leon urged you to not to follow in his footsteps. To not make the same mistakes he did. Well… he isn't here right now, so why should you think about him?
A loud pop and your wine was free from its corky prison. With a few glugs, you had a delectable glass of cheap, old wine. All you needed now was a good movie and some chips. After you placed the glass on your coffee table, you turned the TV on some random channel and went to rummage through your storage closet that doubled as your pantry. It took you a short while since your last bag of chips were deep in the recesses of your closet, but your chips were finally secured. You tossed the bag onto the couch and just as you were about to plop yourself down, you sniffed yourself. Shower then movie time.
Drying your hair with a towel, your mind was still stuck on how your bar of soap was nowhere to be seen. It was a full bar and purple so it couldn't simply blend into the white tub… The TV was still on the same channel you left it on when you went to shower, you exited out of the news and into your streaming service to pull up a movie you've watched dozens of times before.
You took a sip of your wine, only to reel from how bitter it tasted. Maybe it was because you hadn't drank in a while. Yeah. Surely that must have been why. You took another sip and then another, soon enough your glass was empty and the movie became so… blurry. It was time for bed.
Heavy pounding against your skull followed you as you tried to push yourself off your couch. Yet no matter what you did, your limbs wouldn't cooperate. Your vision was fading and your consciousness along with it. But out the corner of your eye, you swore you saw a blurry figure walking towards you. Someone with the same blonde hair and blue eyes that have been plaguing every waking moment of your life.
That's the only thing you could remember before it all went to black.
Pairing: Past Leon S. Kennedy x Gender Neutral Reader
Content Warnings: Mature, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Stalking, Blood, Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking (not the fun kind unfortunately), Syringes
Word Count: 1452
Characters: Leon S Kennedy, Reader (using they/them), Original Characters
A/N: Ever since I started writing this series, I always wanted to try my hand at describing/writing for horror like Resident Evil! Perfect chance to do so hehe
'That could have gone a lot better.' However instead of rehearsing your presentation, you were playing Where's Waldo with your damn toothbrush. You searched for nearly two hours before giving up and buying a new one at the convenience store nearby. It was always where you had put it but last night, it seemed to have disappeared. At first it was just some used tissue you forget to throw away or stray hairs but now… it was your belongings. It ate at you all night, but there surely had to be a plausible explanation for this. You did spot a rat here or there, so maybe that was your culprit.
'Whatever it's not like they were going to fire you for a less than perfect presentation', you grumbled while opening the door. Thankfully you remembered to lock it this time, but to your right down the hallway, a light was peering through your bedroom. You knew for certain that you turned off all the lights before you left for work. While slowly getting out your pepper spray, your feet delicately edged closer to your room.
Heart thumping rapidly against your chest, you noticed your door was left ajar. You lightly pushed it open, a loud creak echoing through your room. Your desk light was the only thing on while the rest of the room was cloaked in darkness, your desk as per usual was covered in research papers and documents. But a couple of photos of you and Leon back when you were first dating were scattered across the table.
There was one photo of you and Leon drenched in blood (thankfully neither of yours) but shortly after the two of you made it out of the laboratory you two met in. Neither of you were smiling when you took the photo, it was originally evidence but you couldn't help but sneak it out as a keepsake. That was the day that Leon changed your life and prevented you from being another statistic.
As Umbrella was hemorrhaging due to the infamous incident in Raccoon City, some facilities were still active. You had gotten a job offer right out of college from Umbrella Pharmaceuticals, at the time you thought it was your lucky break. You should have looked elsewhere. Admittedly you were oblivious to the creation of BOWs within the facility at first, but you couldn't ignore it anymore with what Umbrella asked you to create to aid in their efforts. Neither could you ignore the increasing screams coming from the wings you had gotten access to as you climbed the ranks.
Your superior recommended you view the subjects as mere animals, lab rats if you preferred. His hand gripped against your shoulder while the two of you looked down a fresh military graduate cowering before the two of you. The doctor shoved a syringe into your hand, "Quit stalling, you know it needs to be done."
You couldn't do this anymore. All the evidence you collected over the years was already sent out to a journalist you trusted and USSTRATCOM. It was only a matter of seconds until you were found out. You looked down at the poor recruit and fiddled with the syringe until the Doctor left the room. Without a moment of delay, you pocketed the T-virus shot and swapped it with a normal sedative on a counter.
Kneeling down to the recruit, you shushed him, "I'm so sorry, we're going to get out of here. I promise you, just bear with this."
Before the recruit could say anything else, you injected the sedative and with a heavy thump, he was out cold. Your hands shook as the empty syringe clattered to the ground, you needed to get out of here. There's no telling what they'd do to you once they found out what you had done. The white door slid open to an empty hallway, all you needed to do was slip out the backdoor where Umbrella received their deliveries like you were never there.
With shortened breath, you made it to the back hallway without any fuss until alarms began blaring up above. Red light flooded the white walls and the back entrance closed shut. Shit. Not wanting to give up you tried scraping off a nearby card scanner so you could hot-wire it, "Come on, come on-"
"There's the rat."
You dropped the scalpel you swiped to see an executive looming before you, you held hands up while slowly backing away form him.
"S-Sir I don't know what you mean, you must be mistaken-"
The heavy soles of his shoes thundered against the floor, "Oh I know the stench of a rat, especially one we fed for so many years."
Your voice was stolen from you as the executive's hands gripped your throat.
"You ungrateful little shit. After all we've done for you, this is how you repay us? Did you really think we wouldn't find out you sent the government's mutts after us?"
You clawed at his grip but it was no use, you could barely focus anymore.
"There's only one use for a rat… let's get you on a operating table."
Before he could make good on his promise, his grip loosened, dropping you onto the floor. A scream of agony ripped through him as a large tongue wrapped around his body, dragging him to a nearby room.
You rubbed where he choked you out, listening to the pleas and screams for help. Then a blanket of silence, your eyes began to finally adjust with some oxygen finally having passage to your brain. Then a sliver of pink came into view once more, your breaths returned to their frenzied staccato. A humanoid figure on all fours crept forth from the darkness down the hallway with bits of flesh dripping from its protracted tongue.
Its brain pulsed as it got closer to you, your hands pushing backwards into the door. Pink hued drool dripped from its sharpened teeth as it screeched, you would soon join the rest of your colleagues in hell. You shut your eyes tight to your fate, another horrible screech was ripped out of the creature before you.
Something wet soaked your lab coat, you in turn opened your eyes to the creature's exposed brain all across the floor and walls. You looked up to a barrel of a shotgun staring down at you.
You scrambled to put your arms up, "I'm not like them-! I'm not like the zombie-! I'm fine-!"
The barrel lowered only slightly to reveal a hardened face with blonde locks framing it, "Leon S. Kennedy, USSTRATCOM. I'm taking you into custody."
"Wait!" You shakily stood up, "I'm the whistle-blower, I'm the one that sent the evidence."
Piercing blue eyes slightly softened and he fully lowered his shotgun to quickly reload, "I'll still need to take you in for witness protection, so just follow my lead."
"Can do-!" You stuttered out before slipping on the blood beneath you, drenching you in all sanguine glory.
You swore you heard a little chuckle along with the agent quipping, "Well that's one way to take a bath."
A gloved hand reached out to you along with a tug on the side of Leon's lips, "We're going to make it out of here, trust me."
A heavy sigh escaped your pursed lips as you pinched the bridge of your nose, you couldn't look at any of these anymore. You flipped the photo and slammed it on the desk, the damn bastard just won't leave you alone. Spotting another photo of Leon, you slammed your fist as hard as you could over his face, shaking the desk in the process.
Long, deep breaths pushed out of you until you had nothing left to give. All of these photos in front of you, each one held a moment of the life you shared with Leon. A whole decade together, all gone to waste. The desk lamp flickered as your eyes lingered on the photos, you spotted one where the two of you were kissing. Leon cupped your face as you kissed him hard, that day was-
A small thud to the left of you ripped you out of your thoughts, your head snapped towards the direction of the noise. Holding your breath, you tried to fumble around your desk for something sharp, a pair of scissors. You pointed it towards the endless darkness, your feet slowly making their way to the light switch.
There was nothing, the sound seemed to come from the closet however. Scissors glinting in fluorescent light, you threw open the closet door. The only thing that was askew was one of your drawers peaking out, a pair of underwear was missing.
(Read this on Ao3!)
Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Reader
Content Warnings: Mature, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Horror, Psychological Horror, Stalking, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Leon S Kennedy, Reader (More characters to come as series updates)
Chapter 1 - Reminiscence
Chapter 2 - Skeletons in the Closet
Chapter 3 - Ghosts of Your Embrace
Chapter 4 - Perfection
Chapter 5 - Isolation
Pairing: Past Leon S. Kennedy x Gender Neutral Reader
Content Warnings: Mature, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 1185
Characters: Leon S Kennedy, Reader (using they/them)
A/N: Returning to Resident Evil after 3 years was a doozy, I had actually written some unpublished works for it all those years ago. So this definitely isn't my first time writing Leon, however I will not be posting those works since I've grown so much as a writer and a creative since then lol. This will be a proper series and I have some chapters already pre-written that I'll be posting in short intervals teehee
Goddammit, why did the elevator have to break down today? You cursed to yourself as you lugged three heavy paper bags worth of groceries up the final flight of stairs. With a huff and a bit of readjusting your arms, you were finally on your floor. All you needed to do was to walk over your apartment and-
How the fuck were you going to get the keys out of your messenger bag? You grumbled as you leaned against the door in hopes of finding someway to do that but it opened on its own. Shit, did you forget to lock your door again? You swore you locked it when you left this morning, either way you guessed it was your lucky day.
A sigh of relief flew out of you as you set your groceries down on your kitchen counter, you had to shake your arms about to get the soreness out of you. After all, your job wasn't done just yet. You put your hand on the side of your neck to all the cricks out, you were too old to do this all by yourself. No wonder everyone around you was getting married, but… that wasn't in the cards for you. Not anymore at least.
… Anyway, you took out the meats first and had to smack yourself in the forehead. You bought too much, you were only supposed to buy one pack of chicken breasts instead you bought three. Old habits die hard you guessed, whatever you could just put away the rest and just use the one you were supposed to. A dinner for one, that's all you needed.
You put away the rest of your groceries trying not to think anything, you were starving so you opted to make something simple. Making what you'd usually did would take too damn long, you opened up your now stocked fridge to see what would go with your chicken breast. Some left over spicy tomato sauce and Caesar salad, chicken cotoletta it is.
Your stomach rumbled as you stared at the Caesar salad, no use in torturing yourself any longer. You rolled up your shelves and got out a pot to boil some water, but as you stared into watery abyss you winced as the memories kept bubbling up.
Leon and you had just moved in together, even if the two of you had been dating for year at least. Still there were a lot of things to get used to, things to argue about, and carving out a space for the one you loved. Cooking at least wasn't as tedious as discussing laundry or the dishes.
It was Leon's day to cook and the practical man he was, he decided to do something simple, chicken cotoletta with spaghetti. Unfortunately you two were already unprepared at the first step since one of you forgot to bring out the meat tenderizer from your boxes.
But as resourceful as Leon was, he brought out a large pot that was already in a cabinet.
"How is that going to help us?"
"Don't knock it till you try it," Leon smiled while lightly knocking against the pot's base.
You rolled your eyes and decided to give it a shot and covered the chicken breasts in saran wrap. Leon was about to give the chicken a thwack until he decided to hand the pot over to you.
"Since you doubt me."
"That's not fair, I don't eat steroids for breakfast."
"Well maybe if you did, you wouldn't be as fragile as our spaghetti."
You grumbled and tried to a few thwacks, it wasn't really working.
"I can take over if you want-"
Out of spite you proceeded to hit the damn breast as hard as you could, then another, and another. You kept going until the chicken better resembled a splatter on the cutting board than the proud feathered beast it once was.
After blinking twice, Leon commented, "Looks like we found out what happened on the other side."
You tightly smiled while brandishing the bot, "Do you want to cross the road too?"
He chuckled, "Going to have to take a rain check on that."
You shook your head with a smile before Leon continued to show you his family's recipe. As he grated the Parmesan cheese into the bread crumbs, you noticed that he didn't really stop.
"Hey Leon, are you feeling alright?"
"What-" He looked down at the mountain of Parmesan covering the breadcrumbs, "Fuck."
"We can take a break if we need to-"
"No! No," Leon insisted as he put down the grater, "I don't need a break."
You pursed your lips as you put down the knife you were using.
"… Sorry, uh my mom used to make this."
You hovered your hand over your lover's arm.
He sighed before nodding to you, "She would always make it whenever I had a bad day or when she was having one."
Your hand gently caressed his bicep.
A sad smile cracked on Leon's face, "I didn't know it at the time, but this recipe was ridiculously easy. She joked that it was the easiest way to get me to shut up."
"If kid you ate as much as you did now, she would need to get a whole henhouse."
"Yeah, but can you blame me? I was a growing boy."
You poked his bicep, "You're still growing, I'd say. You're eating me out of house and home."
"Well not everything-" Leon said before lifting you up effortlessly, "There's still dessert."
"You asshole-" You cackled before a flash of pain brought you back to your senses.
Blood dripped onto the plate of fresh cutlets you had made, fuck, you couldn't help but cut them the way he liked them. Hissing, you rushed to your kitchen sink to run some water over your wound. Unfortunately your bandages were in your room, you turned off the faucet and shuffled over to get your first aid kit.
You wondered if you would ever get over Leon S Kennedy, he's certainly gotten over you from the look's of it. He didn't even try when you gave him back your ring. All he could say was, "I probably shouldn't ask about staying friends, right?"
It was just a joke to him. It didn't matter to him, your whole relationship with Leon was a big fat punchline. You weren't a part of his life anymore and neither were you in his, yet you couldn't help it. Whoever loves more is the one who loses, truer words have never been said. All you can do now is lick your wounds and move on, you need to eat dinner and go to bed. You had a presentation to give tomorrow anyways.
Properly bandaged and stomach empty, you got a bottle of water from the fridge to accompany your dinner. Huh, you swore there was blood on the plate. Whatever, you were probably just tired from today and flashbacks of your ex. You mindlessly scarfed down your dinner and hoped that it would be the last odd thing you had to deal with this week.
