❝Morning Fun❞: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader (smut + fluff)
❝Dad, please…❞: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader (angst + fluff)
Hello Kitty !!: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader (request)
Love and Deepspace
If You Want To Live: Sylus Qin x f!reader (smut)
Resident Evil
M-R-S dot Kennedy . . . : Leon Kennedy x f!reader (angst)
☆ Requests Open ☆
I’ll write anything, from your favorite ships (character x character) to character x reader content, or explicitly dark themes. I’m very willing to experiment with different plots/prompts/tropes.
When requesting character x reader, please specify whether you want female reader, male reader or gender neutral reader.
My ask inbox is anonymous, meaning you can request whatever you want.
☆ General disclaimer: English is my third language ☆
☆ DO NOT INTERACT IF:
you’re a minor or an ageless blog
you ship incest, step-relatives, illegal age gaps, etc.
starting to hear more and more people say they "wouldn't know what to do without chatgpt", and in my head I tell them without chatgpt, they would probably be using their own brains as god intended
To all my moots, I just wanted let you know that I may not be often in your dms and asks, but I def follow everything you update and try to react. I feel guilty knowing that I don’t interact with you as often as others, but I’m genuinely not the type of person to do that even with my real life friends. So thank you all for coming to my dms and still interacting with me 😭😔
☆ He was seriously getting tired of constantly having to deal with bioengineered viruses, corpses that refused to stay dead and mostly-abandoned facilities. Twenty-eight years of similar problems weighed heavily on his aging body, although, he could confidently say that nothing could surprise him anymore. Turns out, he was wrong about one thing.
☆ Content tags/warnings: RE9! Leon, angst, hurt/no comfort, no happy ending, past established relationship, divorced couple, DSO Agent! reader (though she does the same “desk job” as Sherry), takes place during RE9, emotional intimacy, no specific age gap, reader is implied to be around his age (no specific mentions), not proofread, spoilers? kinda?
Eerie silence was never a good sign in places like this and it definitely didn't create any sense of safety. Not that Leon expected any, considering that he had spent so many years dealing with situations like this to the point that there were very few things which could faze him.
He kept walking through the hallway with his gun drawn, although, it was unreasonably difficult to get a proper orientation without any sort of floor plan. What was it with facilities being built like mazes? He couldn't remember one building that hadn't had an unrealistic number of floors.
"Sherry."
His low voice echoed through the empty air as he waited for a response, his ice blue eyes flitting left and right to keep track of everything that might happen.
"Not Sherry, but I can help in her place," a familiar voice told him over the comm line. A voice which he hadn't heard in quite a while, which made him stop in his tracks for a moment.
"I sent her to take a break because she's been working relentlessly," you answered his unasked question, either unaware or simply ignoring his stunned silence.
Leon cleared his throat and forced himself to keep moving. "Right."
In all honesty, he never expected to hear your voice again, much less see you. There hadn't exactly been an argument when you told him that you wanted a divorce—he had known that it would happen eventually—but he still thought that you might have preferred to cut all ties with him.
He knew, to an extent, that he hadn't been a bad husband, per se, but he also hadn't been the best, either. Between his own emotional baggage and the constant distance that came with missions—they never had let you work with him; something about protocols and professionalism—it had been only a matter of time until you'd put yourself first.
"What do you need?", your voice sounded in his ear again, and he realized that he'd been quiet for a moment too long.
His throat felt like sandpaper all of a sudden and he took a deep breath that he wouldn't need under normal circumstances. It had been a year since the divorce, he was supposed to have moved on, it shouldn't be affecting him like this.
Right?
"I need whatever you can find about the Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center," Leon finally replied, ignoring how rough his voice sounded. He turned sharply at a sudden noise and raised his gun, only for it to be a mouse. "This place is like a fucking labyrinth..."
His voice trailed off into the hallway's vast air, silence replacing everything for a moment as he waited for you to reply. Despite the steady steps he took, his feet felt inexplicably wobbly.
"Well," your voice came from the comms again, washing over him like a pleasant summer breeze, "its history is dating back to the eighteenth century and has reportedly been renovated in the sixties. Hmm..."
Leon didn't say anything, simply walking and looking around vigilantly as he waited for you to continue.
"In 2003, a Doctor Victor Gideon acquired the building and it's been running under him since. But there's nothing shady noted anywhere regarding the treatment of patients." He heard you sigh. "Whatever's going on there, he's been doing quite a good job to keep it under wraps."
Leon grunted in response, pressing his back against the wall as he peeked over the corner. Two infected people, practically waiting for him to make a mistake so they could feast on him. He clenched his jaw, the mere sight angering him. What did all those people do to deserve this?
The sound of gunshots bounced off the walls until the second body fell with a wet thud, blood pooling everywhere. He kept moving, sharp eyes assessing his entire surroundings. He softly called your name—just to test if you were still there or if it was all in his mind.
"Yeah?", you replied, proving that he wasn't going insane yet.
Or maybe he was, considering that he never had thought about requesting something like this before.
"Stay on the line?"
Fuck, what kind of question was that? When did he start feeling so unsure of himself?
The truth was that he knew. He knew, though it was scary to admit it, that you were his undoing. You had been the one steady thing in his life. After every mission, every near-death experience, every fatal injury, you had been the one waiting for him to come home. You had been his home to come back to.
Leon had known that a divorce would be inevitable. Still, after a year of separation, he sometimes found himself looking for traces of you in his life. His home had long stopped feeling like one, lacking your flower bouquets, your clothes, the smell of your perfume, the stray hair ties he'd find everywhere except your vanity, lacking you.
The words—I miss you—were on the tip of his tongue, yet the chain around his throat would never allow him to speak them out loud. That wasn't what you deserved.
"Sure," you said softly. "I'll stay."
Leon let out a breath, far shakier than was normal for him. How could you have such an effect on him? You had carved out a perfect place in his heart for yourself, and now that hole refused to close. It ached for its owner to come back, to remind him of who he belonged to.
"How have you been?," he asked clumsily.
Every word that left his lips had him feeling stupid. He was experienced in all aspects of his life, but talking to you always made him feel like he was a teen again. With you, he felt like the bright-eyed rookie he once used to be.
Still, hearing you answer him—telling him about what you've been up to like you used to—made his heart stutter with relief. Sneaking through the dark hallways felt less like a chore when he had your voice to listen to.
Leon thought it'd be awkward, which it had been at first. Or rather, he had been. But it was almost too easy to fall back into the comfortable rhythm that the two of you had had. It felt like time had never passed. You talked and Leon listened, replying only here and there. He never interrupted you, even when more infected ambushed him.
"—you still there, Leon?", you'd asked as he wiped the blood off his axe.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied lowly, already moving again. He was seriously sick of pitch black hallways and barely-lit rooms. How come a renovated care facility hadn't been able to afford better lighting?
"As I was saying," you continued your story from where you had left off, "I was extremely worried that they'd send me back or refuse to hear me out. I didn't even want to go, in the first place, because what if someone hadn't been there? Would I have just had to wait? But it all turned out to be just fine. I was really scared about nothing."
Yeah, that sounded like you, alright. The corner of Leon's mouth curved upward in a small smile. He remembered how much of an overthinker you were, no matter how small the issue actually was.
"Guess you haven't changed, huh, Mrs. Kennedy," he smiled, not really thinking about his words.
But there was a moment of silence before you answered, voice as soft as it had been whenever you were telling him something while smiling.
"You know that hasn't been my name for a long time now."
"...Yeah," he breathed. "I m—" The words lodged themselves into his throat, choking him with their intensity. He cleared his throat. "Nevermind. I mean I... I'm sorry."
Leon always ruined perfect things.
The comfortable air between you two shifted, returning to the awkward silence that made him want to claw his hair out. Why did he have to call you that?
You sighed, suddenly, the sound making him stand straighter. "Look," you murmured, "I'd be lying if I said that... I don't miss you. Or what we had."
His throat tightened, like his heart had somehow found a way into his windpipe and was intent on climbing up until he could no longer breathe.
"But?", he asked hoarsely, even though he knew the answer. Still, his traitorous heart was hoping for a sign that didn't exist.
"But," you echoed, "you're more married to your work than you were to me."
The truth hit him hard, when it had no reason to.
"Which isn't something I blame you for," you went on before he could even think of something to say. Before he could try to deny the truth. "I know how important this is to you and how much you've sacrificed to get where you are now. As a colleague, I understand. But as your wife?"
Leon sighed, forcing himself to keep walking while the weight of the topic pulled his shoulders down. "I know," he murmured.
You elaborated, anyway. "I couldn't keep living with the fear that you might never come back home. That one day, I would have had to wake up in that bed alone and realize that I'd always be alone."
A moment of heavy silence passed. Even his mind was blank.
"I'm still afraid," you confessed so quietly that he had to strain his ears just to make sure that he hadn't imagined that. "And I still care about you. But now, I can sort of... focus on myself a little more. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yeah," he replied quietly, glancing at his gloved hand. Or rather, what he knew was beneath it. He had never told you. Nor did he have any intentions to do it now.
A deep breath left his lips. "It's okay," he said, and he meant it. "I don't blame you, either. I knew you'd choose yourself eventually."
"Leon—"
"I mean it," he cut you off, leaning against a wall and stopping. Just for a moment. "You think I felt great every time I had to leave you?" He sighed deeply. "It's better this way."
"Better for who," you muttered. "Somehow, I feel worse than before.”
Leon didn't reply. He knew what you meant. You had been alone while married to him. You were alone while divorced. Just in a smaller apartment and a bed meant for one person instead of two.
It didn't matter, really. Married, divorced, together, separated, none of it.
In the end, his death would affect you either way.
You had known that all along, you reminded yourself as you placed the bouquet down in front of the tombstone that held his name like an accusation.
☆ A/N: y’all this feels so ooc Also, I made a discord server. It’s invite-only for now and you have to be 16+ and have an existing account to get in.
Sometimes it blows my mind that there are people that don’t wear glasses/contacts. Like they can literally see with no aid. Like they wake up and just be out here seeing. What a wild concept.
And people say stuff like ‘lol don’t you hate it when you look up in the middle of the night and see a spider on your ceiling’ like bitch (!!) i could have Nicholas II last czar of Russia hangin from my ceiling fan and i would be none the wiser
as someone who's been an active fanfic reader for this long, it blows my mind that formatting is still a work in progress for some. and no, this is no insult to anyone whose first language is not english, that's not what i'm saying whatsoever.
1) when dialogue is color coded.
"i can read," partycatty said. "i know how to use context clues for who's speaking."
"it adds definition to the character," you defend.
"no, it doesn't," partycatty frowns. "it makes me feel like i'm reading a children's book."
2) when dialogue doesn't have a paragraph break.
"it's not like it ruins the quality of the conversation, necessarily," partycatty said. "it just... ruins the flow of the reader's inner voice?" you replied, finishing my sentence.
3) use of (Y/N), (F/C), or (H/C).
i saw this a lot in my middle school wattpad days, 2013 is calling and wants your formatting back. just say "this dress is in your favorite color," instead of having me play madlibs!
4) assigning the reader's appearance.
no, i did not put my long blonde hair into a messy bun before jumping into my size medium sweatpants. i have a butchered mullet and i am fat as fuck.
5) disguising your oc x canon as an x reader.
im sure your oc is lovely, but i didnt make an entire character to insert into this media just to read about yours.
6) MISCHARACTERIZATION.
he would not fucking say that 😭 girl i'm bored, let's study the source material!
7) "listen to this song while you read."
i'm guilty of using songs and lyrics as inspiration, but i don't want to give you the aux while i'm trying to read,,, i don't need a soundtrack, but thank you.
8) emoji use & author interjections
i don't need sparkles around something ✨ for comedic effect ✨.... also, author's notes exist for a reason lol
—•—
spending a lot of time reading fanfic lately due to personal reasons, but the longer i scroll some of these tags, the more frustrated i get. i know damn well i'm no professional, i'm just a gooner, but i'm a gooner with standards. we can do better!
