grace has never seen ada in the field the way she’s seen leon and so the first time ada goes on an op after grace starts regressing with them grace is distraught. leon and ada try to tell her that ada is fully capable and can handle herself and grace knows this to some extent but to her, ada is the one who reads to her, and tells leon to hush if grace is having quiet time, and she’s the only person who can coax grace away from a screen in under fifteen minutes. she’s never known ada as a mercenary and she gets really quiet and withdrawn the closer it comes for ada to leave. ada is only ‘allowed’ to leave after an entire mom / daughter day spent reassuring grace she’ll be okay and a promise that anytime she calls ada will respond in one way or another even if she can’t answer the phone, more often than not ada responds with a hastily typed ‘love you, lady bug’ or a photo of some of her more scenic travels.
⋆˙⟡ flip4flip ada wong / leon s. kennedy headcanons
believe it or not, if you look inside my brain you just see a highlight reel of every aeon cutscene. im barely even joking. read under the cut!
(1) general
ada regresses more regularly than leon does, much to her chagrin; as if to compensate for this, he tends to go younger than her.
both of their schedules often leave them unavailable to spend time together, so they carry burner phones for the express purpose of being able to contact each other if they (and/or someone else) are feeling small and want to talk.
they're both autistic; ada is just better at masking. leon gets understimulated easily, while ada gets overstimulated easily. he wants to run his fingers up and down his jacket sleeves over and over again, while she wants to set all of her socks on fire because they're itchy. leon has a collection of stim toys, while ada has noise cancelling headphones covered in little ladybug stickers.
(2) little leon
leon's regression is pretty much always involuntary. sometimes he gets a bit fuzzy when he's stressed, but typically speaking, it's triggered by his nightmares or his chronic pain. either way, he usually wants ada to be there, even when he knows that she can't be.
has a habit of trailing after her like a little puppy, even if it's she's only going from the kitchen to the dining room. sometimes it's because of his paranoia, worrying that if he loses sight of her, she'll disappear. other times, he just wants to follow her around for the fun of it.
surprisingly, leon has a bit of a sweet tooth while he's feeling small, which ada is more than happy to exploit for her own gain. she enjoys baking with him, even though she usually has to stop him from eating the raw cookie dough, and she especially enjoys sharing the finished product together.
he's the most spoiled kid ever. comfortable clothes, merch from movies he likes, his favorite snacks, ada can and will buy him whatever he wants. he isn't the biggest toy person, but he does have shared custody of their steadily growing teddy bear collection.
ada's favourite nicknames for him are honey and puppy
(3) little ada
much more likely to regress on her own than leon. sometimes she wont even tell him she's feeling small while visiting, and let leon try and figure it out, something her older self teasingly refers to as a mental enrichment game.
likes to try and maintain some level of independence while she's small, which leon respects, but he still tries to offer his help every now and then. ada is always surprised when he asks, as if she's never had someone there to assist her when she needs it, and it breaks his heart a little bit every time.
she's a bit of a homebody, despite leon's best efforts. ada will whine about just wanting to sit on the couch and read a book together, only for leon to suggest they go out to the library and pick something new first. it's a 50/50 chance for who wins the argument.
despite ada's insistence that she doesn't play favorites, she has one teddy that she's particularly attached to named honey. he's clearly old and well loved, with signs of emergency stitching over the years; leon suspects she might have owned him since her childhood.
leon's favorite nicknames for her are baby and kitty-cat
ada wong is a low empathy autistic icon in my heart </3
one of my personal hcs for ada is that she has an interest in biochemistry which is why she specializes in corporate espionage in the specific niche of bioengineering and weaponry and that if she weren’t a mercenary in another life she’d have been a doctor and lily gao just said that if ada wasn’t a merc she’d be a kindergarten teacher or doctor :,)))) oooooo she knows ada so well
🩹 ) caregiver jill valentine ft . sick little reader
jill notices you’re sick right off the bat. she’s toeing her boots off by the door and tossing her keys in the little clay dish you’d made and the second she catches sight of you curled up on the couch she just knows something is off. she doesn’t say much at first, just leans over the back of the couch and draws lazy patterns down your back. you’re not fully asleep but you’re definitely not awake either, your head is stuffed and your thoughts are coming to you like syrup. eventually you show enough signs of life for jill to speak up, ‘hey there, squirt. you don’t look to good, huh?’
you whine in response because that’s all you feel you can do and jill bites her lip to keep from smiling too wide. ‘not sounding too good either.’
you unearth yourself from you wrap of throw blankets only enough to glare up at jill but the reserved look of fondness doesn’t leave her face. she pushes your sweat damp hair off your face and rests the back of her hand against your temple and forhead.
‘you’re burning up, let’s get you into the bath,’ jill said as she wrangled you from your nest. you whined and protested again, mumbling you were cold and clinging to your blankets. jill broke your weak grasp with deft, gentle fingers and pulled you up from the couch and into her side. she let you lean on her heavily as you hobbled to the bathroom.
once your sat down on the toilet seat jill sets about getting the supplies ready. toys and bubble bath, a candle that stays lit on the counter and a little waterproof machine that played soothing music. you fussed the whole time but eventually jill got you into lukewarm water as you pouted up at her miserably. she had the courtesy to look mildly bashful, ‘i know it’s not fun but you’re hot to the touch, it’s only for a little to regulate your temp’
the words only registered faintly and for the most part you were just achy and tired and wishing jill had opted for a cuddle on the couch instead.
you shiver through the bath as jill putters around in the kitchen. she left the door open and the music low so you could shout for her if necessary but for the most part you let your limbs go loose and focused on the sound of jill in the other room. you weren’t sure how much time had passed when she came back but her eyes were warm and kind as she bundled you up in a fluffy towel and rocked with you for a moment as you were patted dry.
‘alright munchkin, let’s get you in pajamas, get some food in that tummy, and then return you back to your cocoon.. doesn’t that sound nice?’
you mulled it over. jammies sounded wonderful .. so did your pile of blankets .. eating not so much. your head throbbed and your throat ached.
‘n’t hungry,’ you managed, still tucked into jill’s neck.
‘mmm why am i not surprised?’
jill, always knowing when to pick her battles, helped you into cozy clothes and back to the couch. she draped your favorite blanket around your shoulders and as if out of thin air produced your favorite stuffed animal. you still felt icky but things were a bit better with jill around.
jill popped to the kitchen for a moment returning with a steaming bowl — your favorite bowl, you noted — and gave you a withering look.
‘i know you haven’t eaten anything today, try a few bites for me?’
jill popped the spoon into her mouth first, trying to soup and giving a dramatic show of how good it was. ‘oh wow, that’s good stuff .. uncle chris’s recipe too.’
chris had recently started a cooking fad following a cookbook he’d found at the thrift, he liked to joke they were all his own personal creations and when you were smaller the idea stuck. in your mind chris was a world class chef. you contemplated .. never one to pass up one of chris dishes. you agreed begrudgingly and jill hid her victorious little smirk.
the soup was good but it was still hard to muster any enthusiasm, at the very least the warmth was a balm on her throat as it went down. half way through you got fussy, pushing jills hands away and attempting to tuck yourself too far into her side for her to spoon feed you.
jill sighed, ‘a few more bites?’
you shook your head and felt the waterworks building in your dry eyes. jill took the hint as she maneuvered to set the soup on the coffee table and position you properly in her arms.
‘hey,’ she murmured. ‘can i see your eyes?’
you complied with a little squint.
jill smiled at you. ‘sorry you feel yuck, sweetheart, you’ve been very brave though.’
you still felt a little chilly but your chest felt slightly warmer as you gave her a sleepy smile. your fingers migrated to your mouth but jill was quick to intercept with a teether, a paci was preferable but you made do with your stuffed nose.
‘going to sleep on me, munckin?’
you couldn’t muster more of a response than a weak nod as you gripped the blanket tighter with one hand and jills cardigan in the other.
jill brushed over your head and pressed a faint kiss to the crown. ‘that’s alright, i’ll be here when you wake up’
.✦ ݁˖ codename: cygnet (fic)
(cg) ingrid hunnigan & (little) helena harper + leon s. kennedy
a/n: 1.5k words. no tws to worry about really. read under the cut!!
For a very long time now, Leon had thought his biggest enemy in life was Umbrella, or the concept of bioterror in general. In the last 12 hours, paperwork has taken their place in his shit list.
He'd been working on his backlog for weeks, documenting all about his most recent mission in Okinawa, down to what color socks he was wearing each day. He was under the impression that all of it went through fine, that he'd be able to relax and have fun this weekend, until the records manager came up and chewed his ear off about his document formatting. So here he is, still in the office at 10pm on a Friday night, googling how do i readjust my document margins in microsoft word, when his desk phone rings.
"Hunnigan, please tell me this isn't urgent."
"…Not exactly, no, but I was hoping for your help with something. The light in your office is still on; are you still here, or did you just forget about it again?"
"Ugh, no. I was working on paperwork. Please tell me this isn't about me needing to do any more goddamn paperwork, or the records manager wanting to see me again. I'm hiding from her."
She laughs under her breath, "No, it's just something small. Cygnet sized."
That's enough to gain his attention; it's not something small, it's someone. Cygnet is a code name, which is more of a nickname really, from the list that Ingrid uses for the regressors she knows, and in true Ingrid Hunnigan fashion, they're all themed after baby birds. Cygnets are baby swans, if he remembers correctly, so it must be Helena.
Sure enough, once he manages to drag himself the twenty feet to Ingrid's office, he finds them together on the sofa. Well, it's more like Ingrid is on the sofa, while Helena is curled up in her lap, head resting on the older woman's shoulder. They look very cute, and he wishes he had his phone so he could send a photo to Ada, but alas. Ingrid likely wouldn't let him anyway.
"I found her dozing off at her desk earlier; I think she's coming down with something, but she won't let me check her temperature."
"I'm fine," Helena insists, in an unconvincing little whine. The way that she slumps over even further doesn't help her argument all that much either.
Ingrid raises a brow, "Hmm. So, if I was to take you down to medical, they'd agree with you?"
"If we go to medical, we'll be here all night," Leon points out. "They'll test her for 50 strains of the T-virus before they'll test her for the common cold."
If Helena wasn't regressed, it wouldn't be an empty threat; Ingrid would send either them to be swabbed and jabbed by medical just to prove a point. Luckily, considering how paranoid Helena is about being judged for her behavior on a good day, Ingrid isn't stubborn enough to put her through all of that.
Helena groans, "I'm not sick, I'm just sleepy… I didn't get much sleep last night. Nightmares."
Ingrid looks ready to start another of her 'you need to take better care of yourself' rants, but quickly thinks better of it. In this state, all it will do is go in one ear and out the other, or worse, irritate her even further.
"You can get some sleep once we're back at my apartment, okay? For now, Leon, would you mind locking that drawer for me? You can pick out a couple of things first, if you want to."
That drawer is the bottom drawer of Ingrid's filing cabinet, identified by the little duckling sticker on the front, also known as the awesome drawersome as dubbed by Ashley. It's where Ingrid stores some of their regression gear, in case of nights like this. Most of it is simple comfort items like clothing, blankets and snacks, but there's some toys and things in there too.
Knowing Helena, she'll complain about being cold the whole drive home unless she gets changed, so he picks out one of her sweatshirts for her. It's easy to tell which ones are hers, because the strings have both been chewed to death. His own blanket is there, next to some coloring pages of that bunny character Ashley is obsessed with, more juice boxes, and ooh, the sour peach rings he likes—
"That doesn't mean you can have candy at this time of night," Ingrid says, not even looking in his direction. She has a sixth sense, he swears. Some form of magical mom powers that tell her when he's up to no good.
The peach rings ruled out, he decides on taking another juice pouch for Helena to have later before closing it up. It's unnecessary, really; no one would ever dare to mess with Hunnigan's belongings, and the goods in there are all mostly inconspicuous. It's all for the sake of Helena's comfort; the poor girl is always worried about her privacy, not that he can judge.
"Alright, Leon, you're on cuddle duty. I have things I need to do."
"Why not get him to do it all? I'm comfy here," Helena grumbles, clutching onto Ingrid's suit jacket. Her efforts are all for naught; once Ingrid's made her mind up, there's no stopping her, no matter how cute you might be.
"What, do I smell or something? You're breaking my heart over here, kid."
Despite all her posturing and protesting, Helena's more than willing to cling onto him once he sits down, readjusting herself until she's leaning on his shoulder. She's even sharing her blanket for once, soft and gray with glow in the dark stars all over it.
"This shouldn't take me too long, I hope," Ingrid says, walking back to her desk. "All I have to do is send an email and pack up my things. I'll be twenty minutes at the most, so don't fall asleep yet."
Never one to play by the rules, Helena dozes off again almost immediately, and Leon's very tempted to follow suit. There's something soothing about the click-clack of the computer keys, and Helena's quiet snoring beside him. It helps that Ingrid's office is somehow so much warmer than his, despite the DSO's air conditioning being centralized.
He hears Ingrid sigh, no doubt having just noticed that Helena's fallen asleep again. Neither of them make any move to wake her; she clearly needs the rest, and Leon can carry her out to the car if it comes to that.
DSO agents aren't supposed to bring their personal phones inside the office for safety reasons, but Leon is so bored that he's really starting to regret being such a goody-two-shoes. Then again, Ingrid would probably start nagging him about how he needs to avoid any unnecessary screen time at this time of night or something. Instead, he pinches the blanket between his fingers, rubbing it back and forth, over and over again. It's an odd sensation, because the glow in the dark patches are made of a rougher fabric, but the rest is soft and fluffy enough to make up for it.
It's strange, he feels…fuzzy, in a way he can't entirely blame on just exhaustion, but he's not sure what else it could be. He's not all that hungry, he's not drunk or anything like that either, but he doesn't feel all there. He's hoping it's not a concussion, otherwise they will end up visiting medical together tonight.
He's distracted from his thoughts by the office chair squeaking, Ingrid standing and making her way to the couch quietly, trying her best not to disturb Helena. She's looking at him with a funny expression on her face, brows furrowed and a smirk on her lips, the look she always gives him when she knows something he doesn't.
"So, I'll take it that I'm looking after two little ones this evening?"
Leon jolts, only slightly, but it's enough for her to notice. He hadn't even put two and two together yet, but Ingrid somehow came to the correct conclusion from a couple of glances. Again, the woman must have some form of magical mom powers. Surely.
"You know I don't mind, eyas." She says, carding her fingers through his hair. It's something that Ada likes doing when he's feeling like this, and he can't help but lean into it.
Leon does enjoy having the opportunity to look after Helena, but he can't deny how stressed he's been lately. He doesn't have anything he needs to do urgently, even if Special Agent Fortier in the records department disagrees, and he knows that Helena's more comfortable being small when he is. If he didn't know any better, he'd think this was Ingrid's plan all along.
"I'll only be five minutes. Just let me finish packing up my things, and we can go."
Five minutes is fine. He's more than willing to stay here in the warmth for a few minutes more.
is agere angst a thing?? because in my mind claire is very rarely small, not because she doesn’t want to be but because she doesn’t know how. she’s got sherry to look after — even though sherry is all grown up now — not to mention moira, who she worries about constantly. she’s got her work with terrasave which is enough for an army and she tries to maintain a social life unlike leon and chris who are more prone to burrowing into their work. claire tries to be more optimistic than she is pessimistic, she tries to focus on the good she can do rather than the bad that keeps cropping up. she’s spent her entire life being self sufficient and proud of that self sufficiency. she would never admit it but she hates asking for help and doesn’t know how to or when to most of the time. when she does have moments where her resilience wavers and she’d love to go to that smaller, less burdened place that sherry or moira sometimes go she’s feels like she’s betraying some of that independence she’s always prided herself on and even more than that doesn’t have the faintest idea of how to ask for help in this situation. so she very rarely regresses and when she does she white knuckles through it and waits for it to pass.
even far into adulthood i feel like sherry is constantly discovering new little joys of adolescence that she didn’t experience when she was actually a child. in my personal hc, between the experimentation and simmons as her primary guardian, i feel like sherry grew up sheltered in an ironic way despite what the us gov inflicted upon her. simmons made sure she was educated far beyond the scope of average american curriculum but he also heavily curated the things she was allowed to engage with. she didn’t have any social media or access to teen magazines or anything that would give her an accurate scope for pop cultural and a typical teenage hood. she developed a lot of interests that made people dub her as ‘wise beyond her years’ despite the fact that she was still wide eyed and naive in the way most sheltered kids can be. after 2013 when she’s fully out from underneath simmons influence it’s easy for her to slip into regression with claire because so many of the things claire wants to do to make up for lost time are completely new and foreign to her.
claire suggests a stereotypical sleepover where they paint each others nails and watch bad tv, wear cute pajamas and do face masks, and sherry can’t help but feel soooo teeny. she giggles at the feeling of the mask on her face and squirms as claire tries to straighten it out, she gets frustrated when she can’t keep her polish neat and lets claire take her hand and do it for her, she clumsily braids claire’s hair and lets claire put a skincare headband on her with little ears that claire bought just for the occasion. she falls asleep holding onto claire’s arm and leaning on her shoulder.
i feel like clairejill has gotten more popular in the last few months but i still remember when people said it was yurislop and didn’t make any sense .. like what do you people know about clairejill
2087
stormborns
areudirty
tangentwithtanner
turnnoffyourmind
