All of my published stories and links to them, sorted by fandom and character! All of my stories will feature a Genderless/Gender Neutral Reader unless otherwise specified!
My writing can be mature, so minors please stay away. I also write really long ongoing stories. Like, really long.
If anyone would like to be tagged in said ongoing stories, just let me know!
Ordinary World
➢ Between the Bones - ※ ⊘ ✔️ Rookie! Leon x GN! Reader
Your time training alongside Leon in STRATCOM - 64 Chapters
Tumblr Chapter Index - Ao3
➢ Under the Skin - ※ ⊘ ▢ RE4! Leon x GN! Reader
After years spent apart, you and Leon are sent to rescue the President's daughter
Tumblr Chapter Index - Ao3
➢ Delicate Weapon - ⊘ ▢ Leon x GN! Reader x Ada - Cyberpunk AU
You meet Leon at Lizzy's Bar, and he ends up spending the night with you and Ada both. From there? It's all downhill.
Tumblr Chapter Index - Ao3
➢ Through the Looking Glass - ♥ ▢ Leon x GN! Reader - Isekai
You accidentally isekai Leon into the real world and then you both get stuck traversing the multiverse trying to get him home.
Tumblr Chapter Index - Ao3
Oneshots
➢ All My Love and Terror - ♥ Leon x GN! Reader
A dog is hit by a car and Leon runs into traffic to save it, and it forces a revelation on you.
Ao3
➢ The Warmth of a Sunrise - ♥ Vampire! Leon x GN! Reader
It's been years since Leon has seen a sunrise. You decide you're going to change that.
Ao3
➢ A Distant Star - ※ ♥ RE9 Leon x GN! Reader
With his infection progressing, Leon doesn't want to risk touching you.
Ao3
➢I'd Give You The Sun - ♥ ⊘ RE9 Leon x GN! Reader
After Raccoon City, you and Leon spend the whole day in bed together.
Ao3
Jack Krauser Works
Long Series
Ordinary World
➢ Disavowed - ※ ⊘ ▢ Krauser x GN! Reader, Krauser x Leon
Between the Bones spin-off, following Krauser's POV of training you and of Operation Javier.
Tumblr Chapter Index - Ao3
Oneshots
➢ Arrows - ♥ ⚠︎ Krauser x GN! Reader
You ask Jack for archery lessons, and both of you end up being in for a surprise.
Ao3
➢ I'd Be Home With You - ※ Krauser x GN! Reader
You and Krauser share your final moments together.
Ao3
➢ Something to Fight For - ⊘ Knight! Krauser x GN! Reader
Newly crowned and standing on the eve of your first battle, you go to your Sworn Protector in search of comfort. You end up finding your courage.
Ao3
➢ A Close Shave - ♥ ⚠︎ Krauser x GN! Reader
You help Krauser shave, much to your delight.
Ao3
Disavowed (Krauser x GN! Reader/Krauser x Leon) - Chapter 11
2002
For just a moment, Krauser is able to rest, but it's clear that won't last long.
(Cross-posted from Ao3)
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Chapter Index
June 29th, 2002
15:49
Mixcóatl, Amazon Rainforest
The boat’s motor gave out after about three hours.
Probably wear and tear from long before Krauser had ever set foot in the little skiff. The Major could have sympathized, if he didn’t need this thing to work. As it was, he cursed under his breath as he and Leon tried to revive the old piece of machinery. Then he cursed a little louder when they failed.
With no other choice, Krauser reached for one of the paddles, and felt everything in him tense when Leon reached out, resting a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “We should get to shore,” Kennedy suggested, looking at Krauser with unwelcome concern. “We can reevaluate there.” Jack wasn’t an idiot. He knew Leon was suggesting it for Krauser’s sake more than his own. That made frustration bubble beneath the surface, as Leon’s presence so often had.
“Forest isn’t safe,” Krauser said simply, shrugging off the touch and hoisting the paddles into the water. As he started rowing, tired arms fighting against the current of the river, his eyes fell on their passenger. The girl - Manuela - avoided his gaze as she had for the last three hours. At least, until Krauser continued speaking. “And Javier’s estate can’t be far.”
“Javier?” it was the first word she’d spoken that was given freely instead of Leon having to coax it out of her. Krauser only meant to glance at her before she spoke again, her tone cautious. Like she was tiptoeing on fractured glass. “You mean . . . Javier Hidalgo?”
That tone? That caught Krauser’s interest. “That’s right,” he confirmed, looking away from the river and at the girl, all while Leon did the same.
Manuela, who Krauser could only describe as lost up until that point, shifted. Krauser would recognize the expression she wore anywhere - he knew better than most what it looked like when someone put their guard up, after all. And after all the shit she’d just been through? He had to admire it. “What do you want with him?” she asked.
Krauser felt Leon’s gaze on him, but that didn’t change his answer.
“We’re here to kill him.”
At his side, Leon looked at the Major like he’d slapped the girl. She reacted like he had, too. Her eyes widened, a furrow forming between her brows that she couldn’t get to smooth out entirely. “Oh.”
Leon was silent, then, his lips pressed tight together. Even with the judgement, Krauser went on. “You have a problem with that? ‘Cause if you want someone to thank for what happened to the people back there, it’s him.” There was no doubt in Krauser’s mind. If Javier was dealing in bioweapons, then it was him who had released them into the forest and village. Or maybe he’d just been stupid, and they’d gotten out. Either way, the blame fell on Hidalgo, and it looked like this girl could understand that.
It took her a moment to find words, and when she did, they were set before her with caution. Like they were her shield. “I know he’s done a lot of bad things . . .”
“That doesn’t even begin to cover it-”
“And we want to stop him from doing more,” Leon cut in, his words a hell of a lot more gentle than Krauser’s own. As if that would change the fact that they were bound for bloodshed. “He’s been dealing with people from the Umbrella Corporation. You’ve heard of them?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know that he and everyone he’s involved with needs to be brought to justice.”
Something in the girl’s expression flickered again. Still, she nodded again. “Yes.”
Even if she agreed, she didn’t sound happy about it. Which made Krauser’s suspicions raise their hackles. So, as in the dark as he was about his situation, he took a shot in it. “You know him somehow, don’t you?” With the last few days being what they were, he had no patience for anything other than getting to the point. And that point had better end up being something he could drive into his enemy’s side.
He wasn’t sure the kid would answer him, for a moment. Eventually though, she gave a solemn nod.
Krauser sunk his teeth into the wordless answer. “How?”
“My mother . . .” she answered, her eyes downcast. “She worked for him.”
“Worked? She doesn’t anymore.”
“She died,” the girl said, her words making it clear the wound was still fresh. There was no room for pity here, though. Jack didn’t have the strength to carry any more.
“And before that? What was she doing for Javier?”
“Krauser-” Leon interjected, but the Major brushed him off.
“Answer the question, kid.”
This time, when Manuela spoke, she met Krauser’s eyes with a glare. “Housekeeping.” There was defiance in her. Like now she was the one daring Krauser to question her.
Tough girl. That toughness would help her get through this, if such a thing were possible. But no matter how fucked it was, no matter how damned he may feel for it later, the Major didn’t have it in him to show her concern. Not when she might have the intel he needed.
“And did you ever go with your mom to his mansion?”
“. . . You want me to take you there?” Tough and smart, it seemed. Still, she didn’t sound any more pleased about the prospect of playing tour guide than she had any other part of this conversation.
And before Krauser could say anything else, before his exhaustion and grief and rage could make him snarl more harsh words at this girl, Leon interjected. “We could definitely use a guide. And we’ll keep you safe along the way. I promise.”
Krauser huffed, the dull ache of protest in his arms growing louder and louder as he went on rowing. The current was against him, the great river fighting him every step of the way. How many hours had he been awake? How long had he and his men been on the trail of Javier Hidalgo, looking for his hidden base of operations? And now, here was this girl who might hold the key to his revenge.
A girl who once more looked between Leon and Krauser, her guard back up. It wasn’t the promise of safety that she seemed interested in, if what she said next was any indication. “You’re going to stop him?”
The younger man looked to Krauser, then, the judgement in his eyes fading. Instead, the Major just saw certainty in the rookie’s expression. If this was their path, then so be it. So, Krauser nodded. “We’re not leaving until we do.”
Whatever the girl felt about that, Jack couldn’t say. Not that it mattered. All he cared about was that she nodded. “Then keep going up the river. There’s a dam. That’s where you’ll find Amparo.”
They had a heading. A way forward. Low on ammunition, energy, and battling against the current and whatever else God threw at them, but there was a path. That was enough.
“Thank you,” Leon offered the girl a small smile, but she didn’t return it. Instead, she just turned her head over the edge of the boat, looking out at the sun dancing on the dark water.
⧫⧫⧫
19:56
As much as Krauser had pushed himself, as much as he’d trained to keep himself going even when tired, the human body could only take so much. His skin was hot from where the sun hit it, and his limbs ached. Still, even when he handed the oars over to Leon when his muscles could take no more, he’d tried to keep himself awake. To be alert. To be useful.
And instead, he felt more anger and shame surge through him when his head dipped and he jolted upwards. The fact that his eyes met Manuela’s immediately when he stirred only made his temper fray more as the girl looked at him with . . .
He wouldn’t accept pity. He wouldn’t take that from anyone.
Least of all the rookie, who he realized was directing them towards the shore of the river. “What the hell are you doing? We need to keep moving-”
“You need to rest,” came the reply. Krauser wasn’t familiar with Leon sounding so stern. “We’ll make camp for the night.”
“I told you. The jungle’s too dangerous.”
“We’re miles from the outbreak. We can afford a few hours.”
“It’s not just the virus that we need to worry about.” All it had done was given a dangerous forest more teeth. It wasn’t just the animals that could bring them down either, but insects, dehydration . . . but the river had gotten rougher in the time he’d been asleep and the sun was dipping low.
“And if that thing is still out there,” Leon went on, “then I’d rather fight it in the dark on land than in the dark on the water.”
It was a point not worth arguing. That was how Krauser ended up in the mud, helping Leon to haul the boat onto the banks of the river - even if the water level looked higher than it should. It rose past many of the trees at what should have been the river’s edge, even in the dry season. But if Javier was hiding behind a dam up river, then Krauser didn’t need to guess why the water was high, any more than he needed to guess where the monsters that killed his team had come from.
Monsters that could, for all he knew, be lurking in the forest around them. Or in the water they’d been traveling on. Nowhere was safe. So, even as his body protested, even as his mind felt fuzzy with exhaustion, he tied the tarp in his pack up to the trees. Leon helped, then set up his own to make the shelter bigger.
All while the girl stood by, her eyes unfocused and fixed on the ground. Doing nothing. Contributing nothing.
“If you’re gonna be here with us, you’re gonna pull your weight.”
The girl’s eyes snapped up, but that wasn’t what pulled focus because, predictably, Leon shot the Major a look. Opened his pretty mouth to speak. Insubordination that Krauser was not in the mood for. “She’s just been through hell-”
“So we all have. And there’s more to come. She wants to survive, she’s gotta work.”
Before Leon could say anything else smart, the girl spoke up. “Then what do I do?” She didn’t sound enthused. Hell, she sounded downright defiant - this skinny young girl in a torn dress, her feet bare as she stood in one of the most dangerous places on earth, looked at a soldier and had it in her to stand up to him. In her own way.
It pissed him off.
“Take that end and tie it lower than the others,” he said, gesturing to the section of the tarp that still hung loose.
She did as he ordered without another word, wearing a storm as her expression. Still, soon enough, a shelter was up. Just in time for the darkness to truly begin to encroach, the low sunlight choked by the trees overhead. Starting a fire was a pain in the ass, with how wet everything in the forest was, but Krauser managed it with some effort and his own supplies. He could only hope it was the last time that he would have to do that down here.
As if hoping for things had been going well, lately.
Leon had rations to add to what Krauser had left. Enough for tonight and a few more days, though the girl’s presence would force them to stretch it. Just as well. Krauser had no intention of still being here when the food ran out.
The sounds of the jungle around them were as much a comfort as a source of tension. Anything could be out there, but at least it sounded natural. He could handle the jungle, even if the call of a distant animal made the girl tense, looking off into the trees, away from her picked-at rations.
“Just a howler monkey,” Krauser grumbled, taking a bite of his own dinner.
The girl didn’t snap back this time. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on the shadows draped between branches. “How do you know?”
“How do you not? Thought you lived here.”
Those fearful eyes flashed towards the Major once more, and he saw more doubt there than he had since she woke up. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice wavering. “How do you know they’re not . . . different?”
Infected, was what she meant. And the truth? “I don’t. So we need to be ready to move, understood?”
Another nod was her answer, given after a moment’s hesitation. She was frightened. As she should be. That meant she wasn’t stupid, at least.
Neither was the rookie who settled into the brush, checking his limited ammo. “I’ll take first watch,” Leon said, and everything in Jack howled that it should be him.
The kid wasn’t being stupid, though, so neither would he. Leon’s eyes were, at least in this moment, sharper. He wasn’t running off of days without sleep. So, after checking his own supplies and surroundings one last time, he moved to settle against a tree. He tried not to roll his eyes as he watched Leon hand over his pack to Manuela, along with the blanket it held.
“Here,” the rookie said, “it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”
Still soft, even after all these years. Still thinking that dragging a girl along with them was going to end well for her, or for them. If trained men and women had fallen out here, what hope in hell did Manuela have?
What hope did any of them have?
That was the thought that kept him from any restful sleep. That and the bugs that kept on biting at him, the sting making him swat at his bare arms in the night. If they were infected, how long would he have? Hours at most? He tried not to think about it. He tried not to think about how there wasn’t an inch of this goddamn forest that didn’t want him dead.
And he tried not to think about the fact that he’d been left here, discarded like a broken tool.
Not thinking about that became harder when he heard Leon’s voice, muted against the nighttime noises of the jungle.
“This is Condor One, I read you Roost.”
Krauser couldn’t hear the words on the other end of the radio, but he didn’t need to. Kennedy was reporting back to his handler, like a good little soldier. The same way Krauser would have, if the line hadn’t gone silent two days ago. Looking over at the other side, the girl still lay there on her side, her back to both of them. If she’d been awakened by Leon’s voice, she didn’t show it, even as the agent went on.
“I can confirm the presence of B.O.W.’s down here,” Leon went on. “They overtook the village near where I was dropped. I’d put good money on Javier being responsible for that.”
There was a pause as Leon listened to the person on the other end.
“No. No eyes on the target yet. I was diverted in the village. I'm heading towards Javier’s compound by water. If you can get me anything on a dam up river, that would be helpful.”
Another pause.
“I owe you one.”
Krauser leaned forward in the dark, his eyes seeking Leon with the dying embers of the fire. It was enough light to see the younger man’s eyes meet his own as he went on speaking, a hand at his earpiece. Enough to see something unspoken pass between them.
“This guy's trading in more than just the virus. There were fully developed B.O.W.’s in the field.”
Jack scoffed. He knew what Leon was trying to do. He was needling at his handler, trying to let them know that things weren't just bad, they were fucked beyond recognition. He was trying to tell them that Javier needed to go.
Wishful thinking. Krauser knew that whatever his handler thought, it wouldn't change orders. An appeal to any sense of justice wouldn’t matter when it came to orders like these. If it did, then he and his men would have been back state-side, safe and sound.
By the way Leon's expression remained stone, it was clear the younger man was reckoning with that truth.
“Understood. Condor One out.”
That was it. Probably nothing more than orders to keep going, and a standard check-in, maybe some intel about the dam. It was what was left unsaid that interested Krauser more.
“You didn’t report that you found me.”
Leon’s shoulders rose, and Krauser could hear the breath he let out. “I didn’t.”
Krauser let out a huff in return. “I think that would count as insubordination, rookie.”
He swore he could see those pretty lips turn upwards, just a bit. “Wonder where I learned that from.” There was a time that Krauser would have resented that, but with how things had gone these last few years? Since he met some hotshot Sergeant at a bar? Things had been different. Orders had been becoming harder and harder to follow. And now? “You haven’t been in contact with your handler at all?”
“Told you,” the Major shook his head, swatting at more ants before they could bite, “they hung us out to dry. Comms were cut.”
Kennedy nodded. “Then I’ll ask for forgiveness for bringing you back, not permission to do it.”
“You think they’ll be happy that you brought back someone who was supposed to die? Or that you helped kill someone you were ordered not to touch?” Krauser raised a brow, crossing his arms. “How do you think this goes?”
There was a moment of quiet, space enough for the truth of those words to settle in and make a home for itself. Then that home was disrupted just as quickly as it came to be when Leon shrugged. “I dunno. I guess we’ll find out though.”
If Manuela’s defiance had pissed Krauser off earlier, this? This stupid optimism, if that’s what it was? It made something in him burn.
“What did I tell you about trying to play hero?”
Krauser had asked him that question plenty of times before, and Leon laughed like he knew he’d hear it again. “You know, I’m having a hard time remembering-”
“Don’t be smart. You’re not too good at it.”
Another laugh - one that almost made Jack forget where he was. Almost. He wondered if maybe Leon forgot for a moment too. Laughing in the dark, trading jokes in the sweltering heat . . . it could be another place. Another time. It could be, but there was nothing worth thinking about but the here and now. The Major knew that.
And there was a hell of a lot to think about.
“You know that killing Hidalgo isn’t gonna be easy, right?” he finally asked. His eyes had fallen on Manuela, the girl still unmoving, before he looked at Leon once more. “That’s not just the act. You do this, it’ll be disobeying a direct command. You sure you’re ready for that? For what it might mean?”
In just a few years, the kid’s brow had already developed a permanent crease. Krauser hadn’t seen it relaxed all day - a victim of constantly looking down the sights of a gun or scanning an area for threats. His question didn’t offer relief to that crease. Still, however troubled he may have been, Leon’s words were steady. “I’m sure he’s dangerous. I’m sure he’s the reason the people in that village are dead. So yeah. I’m ready for the fallout if it means stopping him. And I think the world would be better without him in it.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Krauser saw the girl’s shoulders rise and then fall, sharp and small.
“Mm,” the Major nodded, turning his attention towards her, speaking on a hunch. “And what about you, kid?” he asked, and Leon’s gaze followed his. “What do you think?”
There was quiet for a moment. The distant sounds of the river, a cry of a bat somewhere far away. Then, without turning to look at them . . .
“I think . . . if he sent those monsters to the village . . . he did it for a reason.”
“And that makes it okay?”
“No,” the girl said, shaking her head. Then, softer, almost to herself, she went on. “But if he didn’t have a reason, maybe none of this would have happened.”
A reason.
Krauser didn’t think the reason mattered. His men were dead, he and Leon were stranded, and a village was gone.
Maybe Javier Hidalgo had a reason to do all he’d done. Maybe he’d been betrayed by someone in the village. Maybe he was just a cruel bastard. Or maybe . . . maybe he’d caught wind of the squad sent to kill him. The thought had crossed Krauser’s mind enough that it had worn a path there. e
Either way, whatever the cause of these circumstances, it didn’t matter.
“Doesn’t change what’s gonna happen now.”
The girl didn’t say anything in response.
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Chapter Index
If anyone wants to be added to the tag list for this or any other story, let me know!
You awaken in a basement, somehow still alive. As if the dreams that plagued you while you slept weren't bad enough, you swear you know the man you find yourself and Leon chained up with.
(Cross-posted from Ao3)
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Chapter Index
The darkness took the shape it so often did these days: a house. The elm tree in the front yard was shadowed, its branches almost bare of leaves, looming between you and the house like a sentinel. Warning you not to take a step further.
As always, even if your mind begged you to obey, you found your body pressing on. Sticking to the shadows, weaving between the yellow light bled by the streetlamps, you approached not the front door, but one of the darkened windows of the house. Unlocked, just as it always was. Just as it had been, when you first came here.
Now, as then, your entire being was screaming at you to turn around. To walk away.
Instead, you pushed the window silently open and slipped inside. You had to do this, you reminded yourself. You had to. That didn’t make it any easier to ignore the stuffed animals on the floor of the room you found yourself in, staring up at you with empty, beady eyes.
You had to do this, so you reached for the door-
And then you felt someone behind you. A presence pressed against your back. The rough voice it spoke with was one that turned your blood to ice in your veins, and twisted the shrapnel that had spent years lodged in your heart. The same one that called you a coward almost every night when you closed your eyes.
“Of course it would be you.”
You turned, expecting to be met with cold-steel eyes and a scarred face.
Instead, the eyes that looked down at you now glowed silver under the shroud of a hood. You didn’t know the man looming over you, but you couldn’t look away. Even as he reached a hand out towards you, taking hold of your chin and making your skin crawl all in one motion. The voice he spoke with was not the one you’d just heard - not the one you’d known from all those years ago.
“Ah, sweet child. Welcome.”
You had to get away from him. Had to run. Had to wake up-
You sucked in a breath, filling your lungs with the air of the real world. Alive. You were still alive, and with that first breath came pain in your wrists and shoulders, the familiar bite of metal chasing away what sleep tried to cling to you. Your joints protested, bound as they were above your head, the wound on your arm throbbed, and your whole body went rigid as only the toes of your boots brushed the ground.
Captured. Not killed. The dream that had forced you awake was just that - a dream. However unfamiliar the ending of it had been.
And the voice that greeted you only a moment after your eyes opened? It was only slightly more familiar.
“¡Ah, buenos días! Or . . . buenos tardes . . . hard to tell down here, eh?”
Your gaze snapped to your left, and there, amidst a cluttered room, sat the very man you and Leon had discovered under the cabin. His hands were shackled, resting in his lap, his eyes fixed on you. But your eyes? They focused not on the stranger looking at you, but the man behind him.
Even facing away from you, even having been stripped of his bomber jacket, you felt something like relief as you recognized Leon sitting back to back against this stranger.
“Don’t worry about your friend,” the man he was chained to insisted. “He’s still out cold, but he’s alive. Though, it doesn’t sound like restful sleep.”
As if to prove the stranger’s point, Leon shifted in what you had to assume was sleep, his bowed head jerking momentarily before he stilled once more. You held tight to that little piece of relief, even if his circumstances weren’t much better than your own. His hands were shackled above him, bound to the same chain that the man in front of you was tied to.
A man who, now that you saw him under proper lighting, now that you weren’t so worried for Leon . . .
Where had you seen him before?
“Who are you?” The words were more of a demand than anything else. You were sure your authority was undercut by the fact that you were dangling from the ceiling, but that wouldn’t stop you from wielding it.
And, too disoriented from your dream and the violence that brought it upon you, you didn’t bother to mute your expression, either. So, you weren’t surprised when the stranger shifted under the weight of your glare, even if he covered it with a smile. “You can call me Luis Serra.”
Luis Serra.
Luis Serra.
Fuck, you knew him, somehow. His face and name had crossed your desk some time in the last five years. And when someone’s name crossed your desk, it usually wasn’t because you were being sent to them for a friendly chat. So if you knew this man . . .
“And what can I call you?” He asked as your head pounded, as your focus was caught between Luis and his past and Leon and trying to figure out how the hell you were getting out of here. When you looked at more than just your partner and the man he was chained to, you found the key to your escape behind you - a wheeled surgical cart, one you could just barely reach with your leg. And with your chain bolted to one of the support beams of the ceiling, reaching it to examine what you were up against suddenly became a much easier feat.
Beyond that, you could multitask.
There was little harm this man could do to you with a name, so you gave it to him after a moment’s hesitation.
When he smiled at the sound, all charm, you figured it was safe to assume that he didn’t know your name like you knew his. “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but, given the circumstances-”
“What do they want with you?” you demanded as you twisted your body mid-air, reaching a leg out to hook your boot under the surface of the cart. Luis shrugged as you dragged it forward. It made more noise than you would have liked, especially with the bowl full of surgical scissors on top rattling, but still. Better than waiting for the towering man who’d captured you to come back.
Be not afraid. His words rang in your head. He hadn’t meant to kill either of you, and he’d been keeping Luis alive in that basement for a reason. As to what that reason was?
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“They killed the other people we came here with,” your voice was strained as you pulled the metal cart your way, then stepped up on top of it. The wheels of the thing made it precarious to balance on, so you put most of your weight on the chain that held you until you were safely up. “Why’d they keep you alive?”
“My devilish good looks?” Luis offered, and you sent a glare his way. When he continued, his tone was almost as guarded as yours. “But in all seriousness, I don’t know. Guess we all got lucky, eh?” He glanced over his shoulder at the still-unconscious Leon.
You didn’t believe him. How could you, when you were so sure that you’d held his dossier before. You, who’d been sent to hunt down arms dealers, smugglers, doctors and anyone in between, so long as they were united by one common thread: bioweapons. So here was a man, one you were certain you recognized for that reason, chained in the middle of a town infected with something.
“So you don’t know anything about what happened to the people here?” You asked, pausing your efforts for just a moment to watch Luis’ expression.
He was good at hiding it, you’d give him that, but you’d been trained to read people. So, when you saw the way his eyes flashed, the way his lips tightened for just a moment before shaking your head, you had the answer you needed. Even if his words said otherwise. “Not a clue.” He all but proved you right when his eyes glanced towards the chain that held you in place. “That doesn’t look too comfortable,” he observed, deftly changing the subject. “Think you can get out?”
You didn’t answer. Instead, you examined the shackles around your wrists. They were locked with a key, you could see that much, one that shouldn’t be too much trouble for you to pick . . . but you were unsurprised when you looked down and found most of your gear gone. Your harness was still strapped to your body, but your knives, your gun, all of it was gone.
So, your attention turned instead to the chain. The bolt holding it in place wasn’t budging, even with all your weight on it. But maybe with enough force-
The sound of a third voice, taking the shape of a forever-recognizable gasp, made you turn. Leon breathed heavily as he jolted awake, his shoulders rising and falling as his head snapped up. You recognized the body language, the labored breathing. After all, for as long as you’d known each other, you’d both suffered from bad dreams. Before, his eyes would find yours through the darkness of the barracks. You’d send him a small but soft smile . . .
Now, Leon just looked up at the chains that held his hands over his head. “Oh, what the fuck-”
He tugged his arms down, and Luis’ were wrenched upwards. “Hey, stop it!”
Luis’ voice made Leon turn his head - the wrong way at first, of course, so he didn’t see you.
Then when the very Spaniard in question addressed you, Leon’s head was whipping around the other direction. “See?” Luis grinned, though it was a strained thing. “I told you that your friend was alright.” And you were sorely grateful for that, even if you wished that you hadn’t seen Leon’s eyes brighten with relief when he took you in. “You alright?” was Leon’s first question, shot right over Luis’ head.
You just nodded. “You?”
“Fine. Can you get free?”
The cart you were balanced on rattled a little as you tugged at the chain. “Working on it.”
“Your partner is very resourceful, I can say that much,” Luis added as Leon got to his feet. “What about you, Yanqui? You got a name?”
As he rose, Leon looked to you, a silent exchange of a single question: do we trust this guy?
Your answer, given in a stone-faced expression, was simple: hell no.
After a moment of understanding, he gave only his first name. “Leon.”
Now at his feet, Luis glanced between the two of you, his voice more measured now. “Quiet type, eh? Well, I’m Luis Serra, as I was saying to your friend.” Leon didn’t respond, instead looking over his own shackles - appearing to be the same kind as the ones you were in, and then turning his focus around the room. “Guess we all picked the wrong spot to vacation, eh?”
Right. Vacation. You doubted that was why he was here with every bone in your body. All the more reason you had to free yourself. You might have been able to pick your shackles lock with the surgical scissors on the cart, if you could reach them. As it was, the bolt of your chain didn’t seem to want to budge.
Meanwhile, Leon moved to the opposite side of the room, and Luis was practically pulled along with him. “Hey, stop it!” he protested, and your eyes caught exactly where Leon’s own did - the pulley that their chain was suspended on. “You move, I move, and I’m beat up enough as it is.”
Leon didn’t listen much, instead giving his own chain an experimental pull. It was just enough that you could see the four nails holding the pulley in place beginning to give way.
Luis proved then that, despite the lack of response he was getting, he had no intention of shutting up. Even as he moved to help. “I can see your thinking. Bet you two have been in spots like this before, hm?” He took better hold of his side of the chain, just as Leon pulled his over his shoulder to get more leverage.
Your eyes caught on the strength of his arms, even as your mind was still caught on the question of the other man in the room. “You seem pretty calm yourself,” you observed, making Luis turn back towards you.
“Ah, well, I do better with company. Safety in numbers and all that.”
“You say that,” you went on, pausing your own efforts for a moment, “but you don’t know what we’re here for.” It wasn’t quite a threat, but you hadn’t exactly pulled the punch of those words, either. And as soon as they landed, Leon stilled too for a moment, listening as the two of you spoke.
For Luis’ part, he tried to laugh it off - and was more successful than many would have been. Even so, you could catch the way worry salted that laughter. “Ah, well, if you’re trying to say you came out here looking for me, I’m flattered, but my guess is that you’re here for someone else.” When you narrowed your eyes, his smile widened. “Ah, one more guess. Maybe . . . some missing señorita?”
Immediately, Leon turned, his brow knitted tight. “A young girl?” You expected him to question Luis. Maybe to step closer and seek the answers he needed. The Leon you knew all those years ago would have used a gentler hand than you would have.
Instead, you found yourself more than a little surprised as the man you thought you knew pulled the chain at his wrists hard, nearly forcing Luis off his feet. Leon dragged the other man closer, until Luis himself was nearly dangling off the ground as you had been, his arms kept above his head. And Leon? He stood directly before him, eyes sharp enough that Luis dare not look away. When he spoke, it was with a tone you’d heard a hundred times in the last five years because it had come from your own lips.
“Talk. Now.”
That was all the incentive needed, it seemed. “All right. See, heard chatter about moving a señorita.”
Another lead. One that, with luck, meant the First Daughter was alive. “Moving her,” Leon looked over at you, then back at the man he’d made a captive twice over. He studied Luis for only a moment longer, then let the tension in the chain drop. “Where?”
Back fully on his feet, Luis had more tension about him now as he answered. “Who knows? But later, I saw some men dragging someone to the old church.”
Then that would be your next point of investigation, then. Just as soon as you were free of this place. Which, with the combined effort of Leon and Luis pulling their restraints down from the ceiling, looked to be on the horizon. The tension being released sent Luis crashing to the floor, still tied to Leon but much more free than you were, now. Even if the fall made him mutter a curse.
Of course, with the clanging of chains and the sounds of your voices, you supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised when you heard voices from the entry behind you.
You were about to have company, all while your hands were bound and you were balancing on a wheeled cart. Add it to the list of bullshit for the day, you supposed. “Leon-”
“Maybe you were right. Hanging with you two? Not healthy-” Luis grumbled, pushing himself up just in time for your latest friends to arrive. Just in time for you to have to dance to the side, just in time for an axe to swing by where your leg had been. The cart nearly tipped over as you moved, and you bared your teeth with the effort of keeping it balanced - of giving yourself a surface to push off of for as long as you could have it. The man holding the axe meant for you staggered forward, and Leon pulled his chain again, once more making a ragdoll on a string of Luis. Even if the motion saved the man’s head from being chopped off.
When the second attacker came in, though, there was no one to save you but yourself. No, your focus shifted entirely to the knife coming your way. Short weapon, short reach. Your kick was faster - and had longer reach. Enough to crash square into the man’s chest, creating some distance.
You glanced back just in time to see Leon and Luis whip their chain forward, snapping the metal right into the head of their attacker. You couldn’t afford much more, though, as your own man came forward again and for the second time that day, you were fighting while suspended in the air.
And you were well and truly fucking done with it.
You had more mobility in these chains than the trap you’d been caught in, though. And even if you didn’t have the gun you’d had then, training and frustration were enough. So, you gathered more of the chain you were hanging from, and when the second attack came, you were ready. Another kick - this one arcing from side to side - sent the man crashing into the wall closest to you. When his knife clattered out of his hand, you moved.
You lifted yourself forward, kicking a little off the cart for the extra momentum. Just as the villager pushed himself off the wall, your legs were over his shoulders. One calf wedged itself beneath his chin, pressing hard against his windpipe. The other, you used to hook that chokehold in place, squeezing with all the pressure you could manage.
The man beneath you fought against his death, his breath choked. You could see his red eyes looking up at you as he tried to slip free, but you held firm. Nails dug into the fabric of your pant legs, the cart and its contents clattered to the ground as it was knocked over in the struggle, and you nearly lost your hold on the chain above you as your assailant staggered.
But still, with a snarl of effort, you held on.
The new angle you found yourself in let you see the other half of the fight. The first attacker, the one with the axe, now was strung between Leon and Luis, the chain looped around his neck. He swung his weapon desperately, but it was all for nothing when Leon turned bringing a leg up over the chain . . .
Then, looping it under his knee, Leon put all his weight down. Even over the choking sounds of the man in your hold, the sound of his comrade’s neck snapping filled the room, clear and final.
Skilled. Brutal. More ruthless than you’d been prepared to see from Leon. More than enough to remind you of his own words; you’d had the same training. Faced much of the same horrors. And for the first time since you came to Spain, you were forced to accept just how capable Leon was.
How dangerous you both really were. But then, caged dogs always bite hardest, don't they?
The villager’s body went limp, then collapsed to the floor - Luis alongside him. Leon, though, was back up in a moment, only to go still as you hoisted yourself up higher. Your arms all but screamed in protest, but you managed to hold firm, taking your victim completely off the ground, his neck crushed between your legs. The added weight of his body acting against him and the pressure of your hold? It wasn’t long before you felt his vertebrae crack as well.
And Leon just . . . stared as you lowered yourself, then let the man drop to the floor.
It was only a moment - one where you barely had time to breathe from the exertion you’d just gone through - before you registered Luis reaching for something. There was the clinking of shackles, the jangling of chains falling, and then Luis Serra was backing away from you both, a little key in his now-free hands.
And even with all you’d just done, your chains remained securely in place.
“You’ll stop and unlock us if you don’t want to make things worse for yourself.” The warning didn’t have the bite you wanted it to. Not when Luis held all the power, now. Not when he just shrugged.
“No hard feelings. Scary as you are, I’ll take my chances.”
Your eyes went wide as you realized you were about to lose a potential quarry; that someone who might well be behind all of this was about to get away. And you could do almost jack shit to stop him.
“Hey, we’re not done here!” Leon rushed forward, only to be stopped by the body he’d effectively just anchored himself to. Even you tried to swing a leg out at the man to stop him, but he dodged right past. With nothing to kick off of, you were stuck.
And Luis was practically out the door as he gave you both a wink. “Later, amigos.”
With that, he was gone. The fact that he tossed the key past you and onto the floor was the only reason you might let him live, the next time you met. Might.
“Fuck,” you hissed, frustration poisoning you as you swung there, boots scraping the ground once again. Just when you thought this mission couldn’t get any worse, it found new and inventive ways to prove you wrong. And now you were dangling from a chain once again, with a potentially dangerous man loose, and you were no closer to completing your mission.
Though, hopefully, with any luck, you were closer to being out of here, at least.
Leon shook his head as he went for the key so mercifully thrown to you both, grumbling as he went. “Hang on.”
Not that you could do much else.
You were just glad that the key worked - that Leon was free but a moment later. He made his way over to you, then, reaching out to steady you. He couldn’t have been thinking too much about the how, because as soon as his hand landed on your hip, warm and steady, his eyes snapped up to yours. He’d stopped your momentum, but he just as quickly pulled his hand away. “Sorry,” he muttered, but what came next all but voided that apology before you could figure out how to feel about it.
You stared at nothing in particular as Leon reached up with the key, his body close enough you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. He’d always been warm, though. Just another thing you wished you didn’t remember as well as you did. Just another thing that was hard to forget with him being so close.
Fuck this mission, was all you could think. At least fate had the decency to let the key work on your shackles too.
Even if, when you were free, when you landed fully on your feet, Leon held out his other hand to steady you.
That too, though, he quickly pulled away, like he would be burned if his touch lingered for too long. Just as well. You had places to be. Still, you muttered a “Thanks,” to Leon as he stepped away.
He nodded in return. “Any time. Guessing they took all your gear too?” he asked, eyes sweeping you for anything they might have missed.
No such luck, it seemed. “Yeah. But they left us enough to make do.” With that, you reached down and took up the knife from your fallen enemy. It was, frankly, a piece of shit; more meant for the kitchen than anything else. Still, if it was sharp, you could use it as much as Leon could. “Here,” you spun it, offering it to Leon hilt-first.
Only for him to shake his head, going instead for the hatchet of the man he’d killed. “Think I’ll switch it up.”
Hello, I was wondering how do you think Sarge and Leon relationship would go by the time of requiem? Like more mature, would they be buds, married ? Their relationship lives rent free in my mind and I must know what do you think 🙏
Ooh ok I can't say too much without spoilers (cause I do have every intention of writing Sarge and Leon for Requiem some day), but I will just say that if fate is kind to them, I think they'd be closer than ever after so many years fighting side by side! 👀
Out here sounding like the Capcom devs talking vaguely about Leon's wedding ring 😂
The Age Old Question: Do You Trust the Woman in Red?
Through the Looking Glass - Chapter 6
Leon x GN! Reader (Isekai Trope)
You and Leon manage to find your way to a save point, but the guardian of it isn't exactly as helpful as you'd hoped.
(Cross-posted from Ao3)
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Chapter Index
CW: isekai fuckery, fluff, angst, kind of a crack fic, slow burn, eventual romance, multiple cross-overs, and just general shameless self-indulgence on the part of the author
In one of the world’s great tragedies, Leon gave up the Agony Crossbow to its rightful owner before you all set out. You were sad to see him let go of such an iconic weapon but were glad to see him holding onto the shotgun. And, if nothing else, seeing Sebastian Castellanos strap the crossbow to his back and then cut through a massive chain with, well, a chainsaw, was pretty sick. You stepped back as the metal snapped, and with the gears no longer being held in place, the massive wooden gate before you immediately rose into the air. Even if you could feel the tender spots where you’d landed hard beginning to make problems for you, at least now you had a path forward. And, maybe, a way to help Leon.
Maybe.
You looked over at the stupidly-beautiful agent in question, trying to give him as much of a reassuring smile as you could. “Onwards?”
With a tilt of his head and a little smile of his own, Leon nodded. He stepped in front of you, then, and you wondered if that was just second nature for him now. Ever the protector. It caught you somewhere between grateful and sad, until he looked back over his shoulder at you. “Onwards.”
You might have felt almost hopeful, if not for the fourth member of your group that you sorely wished you could uninvite. Jimenez hadn’t really taken his eyes off of you since you all reunited. You or Leon, for that matter. You could feel him staring at the two of you as you moved through the now-open gate. When the space just beyond seemed empty enough, the not-so-good Doctor took the opportunity to begin his interrogation.
“I’m familiar with the officer, here-”
“Detective,” Sebastian corrected, sounding no more pleased that Jimenez was tagging along than you were.
Not that Jimenez seemed to care about the tone. “Yes, Detective. In any case, I am glad to see there are more survivors. Especially such . . . knowledgeable ones.” The remark was about as subtle as a brick to the face, and Jimenez hurled it directly at you. It was enough that both Leon and Sebastian glanced back at the Doctor, their brows pinched as Jimenez went on. “Where did you two say you were from?”
“We didn’t,” came Leon’s deadpan reply. Leave it to him to have no patience for scientists, especially the evil ones.
Building up lies like a house of cards was probably a good way to get the two of you in trouble, you knew that. Being cagey, though, probably wasn’t much better. Still, luckily for the two of you, your interrogation was cut short with a loud crash from behind you. As if by magic (or, more likely, Ruvik being a dick) the gate you’d just passed through slammed closed.
It was your turn to deadpan. “Awesome.”
Onwards and only onwards, it seemed. Just as well. You had a mirror to find and, hopefully, help for Leon too.
But you weren’t the only one searching for something. Or, in Jimenez’s case, someone.
“Ah, the hospice. Yes . . . Leslie was being treated here years ago.” Leslie. That name was ringing more bells for you now, too. He was the one Ruvik was really after in all this mess. His way out of STEM, even if the how of that still eluded you. And now, you were all searching for the same kid the Big Bad was looking for. What could go wrong? “He would come here thinking it was familiar and safe.”
Safe wasn’t exactly the word you would use to describe this place. It looked like less of a hospice you were familiar with, and more of a simple extension of the murder-village you’d just come from. Especially with the slaughtered goat carcass impaled on wooden steaks in front of you. The “hospice” just beyond didn’t look much more promising; an old building wearing darkness like its own personal fashion statement. Hell, even the word rang in your mind as a place where people went for final care. And this one, being smack-dab in the middle of a place like this? It was the kind of building where you just knew nothing good was going to happen inside.
Leon seemed to share that opinion, his frown only deepening. Great survival horror minds must think alike, because Sebastian’s expression wasn’t much brighter. “You know where we are?”
“Just ahead is the hospice my brother runs,” Jimenez said, “he’ll take us in.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“There’s a lot of that going around, isn’t there?” Those beady eyes once again turned back towards you and Leon. God, this guy was bitchy. “But in all honesty, I don’t know. For all I know, I’m losing my mind and you’re all just delusions. But I’d like to think I still have a shred of dignity, and an obligation to protect my patient.” Then, a pointed look to Sebastian. “As an officer of the law, you should too.” With that, he quickly set out ahead, moving towards the hospice like you all hadn’t just almost died.
None of the remaining trio moved to stop him, though. “Hope his brother’s not a jerk too,” Sebastian muttered.
Leon glanced at you, then, like he was seeking your lacking expertise. “Is that in the cards?”
You honestly didn’t remember, but with the way this had all gone so far? “Doubt it.”
The answer hardly surprised Leon. Or Sebastian, for that matter. Even so, you found the knock-off eyeing both you and the original.
“He does have a point, though,” the Detective pointed out, pausing a bit to look first at Leon, then at you. “It’s hard to trust people who avoid answering questions.”
Fair. You were pretty sure you wouldn’t trust yourself if you were in Sebastian’s shoes, either. Still . . . you exchanged a look with Leon. One that made you speak up, hoping you weren’t being a complete idiot for doing so. “We’re not from Krimson City originally,” you began, judging by Sebastian’s expression that you remembered the name of his home correctly. “We were just . . . looking for someone.”
You looked to Leon, silently letting him know that you were incorporating at least part of his story in the lie you were telling.
Sebastian seemed to buy it well enough. “That girl you were talking about?”
Leon, taking the bit and running with it like a champion, nodded. “Yeah. Ashley Graham. She went missing, and I was assigned to look for her.” He had to just be giving details to help with your story, but you were grateful for his addition all the same.
“Assigned?” Sebastian frowned. “I know every officer at KCPD. You’re not one of them.”
Something just short of a laugh escaped Leon, and he shook his head as a falling leaf danced past him. “No. Wrong city and wrong part of my life to find my name in an officer’s registry.”
“You were a cop?”
“Briefly.”
Oof. You tried to hide your expression of sympathy, still feeling guilty for even knowing about Leon’s one and only day on the job, let alone having played it over and over again.
Still, Sebastian wasn’t going to stop asking questions, even as he glanced around the facade of the hospice, looking for threats. That didn’t make you feel much better when those dark eyes swept over you and Leon. First, he took in Leon’s tactical gear, the knife at his chest and the shotgun resting in his hands . . . and then he spared a much less impressed look for your sweatshirt. “And you? You don’t seem like the law enforcement type.”
You snorted a laugh, even if amusement went against the ache in your side and the stinging of your freshly dressed scrapes. “Yeah, no. Definitely not.”
“Then you’re a . . .”
Civilian? Unlucky idiot? How many words could you use to describe yourself?
“Consultant,” came Leon’s answer, much more official and much kinder to you than anything you could have come up with. Not exactly what you wanted Leon to call you, in a perfect world. Then again, the world that you were in was decidedly fucked up, so you’d take what you could get. Especially when he gave you the slightest of smiles and went on. “Pretty good one, too.”
Oh, well, alright. Maybe idiot was a pretty good description for you, if even that little praise from him made your heart sprout wings.
The unlucky part, though? Still up for heated debate, though you got a solid point against it when, as you approached the stairs of the dreaded hospice, your ears caught a familiar sound.
Violin, muffled and staticky, like it was being played through an old gramophone. And the tune that it was making up? It had Leon turning towards you, lips parted and eyes holding the spark of surprise. “Clair de Lune?”
It came from directly ahead, inside a little shack to the right of the hospice stairs. On its door, you could see a lighthouse symbol painted in blood. A beacon.
“Wait,” Sebastian said, holding up a hand.
Even Jimenez stopped at the foot of the stairs, his unsettling gaze turned towards the three of you. “What could possibly-”
“That music,” Sebastian said, thankfully not taking any of the Doctor’s shit. “It’s a safe space.” Ah, so he’d already found a save point before this then. That was good. One less person you had to convince you weren’t insane. Jimenez didn’t look optimistic, but Sebastian was at least smart enough to not want to go into a surely evil hospice without at least taking a moment. “Come on,” he said, already moving forward. He was quick to reach for the door, revolver in hand - and just as quick to rip off something that was pinned to it. You just barely glimpsed the shape of a badge on the surface of whatever it was, before he led the way inside.
“Come now, really,” Jimenez protested, adjusting his pristine lab coat as he looked at the relatively empty interior. “This is a waste of time.”
“I think every moment away from the murder villagers is a pretty good use of time actually, if you ask me,” you shrugged, stepping through the threshold with all the confidence of someone who knew at least that this was going to be an okay move. And beside you? Leon just mirrored your shrug.
“Can’t argue that.”
With heavy steps through the door, the four of you found yourselves in a tiny room, mercifully unremarkable save for the haunting melody of Clair de Lune, and the glowing mirror it emanated from. One that, as soon as you all looked into its surface, cracked. Light spilled out from the jagged wound in its face.
Beside you, Leon tensed. “You sure this is safe?” You weren’t sure if he was asking Sebastian or you. Either way, it didn’t change the answer.
“It has been so far,” Sebastian confirmed, stepping closer without fear. As he did, the outline of his body began to flicker. Or maybe it was the world around you wavering. Either way, you blinked as the light of the mirror grew brighter . . .
And brighter . . .
And brighter . . .
You felt a hand at your shoulder, a rush of air into your lungs, and then . . . then you were somewhere else entirely.
Gone were the ramshackle walls of the shack you’d just been in, and the scent of blood in the air. In fact, there was no smell at all here. The walls of the room you were now in seemed almost muted in their color, the plaster old and cracked, the checkerboard floor unpolished. The rhythmic ticking of a great clock replaced the notes of Clair de Lune, and the only warmth you felt came from the hand still resting on your shoulder. Even through the tactical glove and your sweatshirt, you could feel the warmth of Leon at your side, as much of a comfort as you could hope for.
Especially when you realized the two of you weren’t alone - but not because Sebastian or Jimenez were at your side.
“I wasn’t expecting any new patients.”
The voice might have been beautiful, if it weren’t for the unnervingly calm tone of the woman it belonged to. A woman who you immediately snapped your attention to, seated behind a desk and wearing an old-fashioned nurse’s getup under a red sweater. Pinned to her blouse, you could see a little pin - one that matched the lighthouse symbol on the door of the shack you’d just come from. She regarded you and Leon both from behind her glasses, her face serene despite the apparently unexpected visitors.
At your side, Leon’s tension was back. His hand immediately fell away from you, moving instead to the shotgun he held, but you? You were feeling some actual relief for the first time since you woke up in this nightmare.
Because this was exactly who you were looking for.
“Tatiana, right?” you were ninety-percent sure you had it right, but you asked anyway. Your recollection of this fuck-ass crazy game was spotty, but you did remember watching a video back in the day about the mysterious nurse and her meaning in the story.
A mysterious nurse whose expression didn’t change much, even as she tilted her head. “That’s right.”
You thought she might have more to say. Then, after the silence you found yourself in started to develop growing pains, you glanced towards Leon. When you did, you found his lips pressed tightly together, his expression warped by perplexity. “Not a great bedside manner, that one,” he mused, before looking over at you. “What’s the plan?”
You couldn’t hide your grimace. So much for inspiring confidence. “Honestly, uh . . . kinda just making it up as I go,” you admitted, before turning back to the still-blank-faced Tatiana. “Um . . . listen, I know you help Sebastian out, right?”
“The Detective? Yes.”
. . . Not a great conversationalist. Still, you pressed on. “Well . . . we were kind of hoping that you would do the same for us.”
If there were any feelings about your request from the woman before you, she didn’t voice them. Didn’t really show them, either. “I don’t have either of you on my registry,” she said, notably not looking down at any of the paperwork on the desk in front of her. “Interesting.”
“And you don’t take walk-ins?” Leon huffed.
Tatiana tipped her head the other way, then, and lifted a book and pen onto the desk before her. “I am always happy to accept new admissions,” she said, her tone just as monotonous as before, her eyes unblinking as they took you both in. “Please, sign in, and we can get started.”
Signing your name on a sketchy piece of paper in a sketchy place and giving it to a sketchy woman all seemed like a good way to get your soul stolen. You didn’t remember Nurse Tatiana ever being a problem in the game, but, again, that was a ten-year-old memory you were going on, there. And she was staring at you now in a way that, honestly, freaked you out a little bit.
But unless STEM had another way for you to help Leon . . .
Leon, who once more was looking to you for guidance you weren’t sure you could offer. Guidance that you were suddenly second guessing, as you stared at the blank book in front of you.
And while you were busy trying to decide if this was a good idea? Leon stepped away from your side, taking a breath and reaching for the old fountain pen offered to him.
Fuck it. This was your best option. So, when Leon finished signing and Tatiana’s blank gaze turned your way, you stepped up beside him. You looked down at the page offered to you, eyes trailing over the names there.
Sebastian Castellanos.
Juli Kidman.
Leon Kennedy.
Your name looked entirely out of place beneath theirs, these protagonists. These heroes. But if you could save one of those heroes from a fate worse than death? You’d sign any sketchy paper you had to.
“Thank you,” Tatiana said, placid as ever. Then, she rose, stepping out from around the desk and leading you to a barred door. “Right this way please.”
When you saw what waited at the end of the hallway, you wondered if maybe you’d just fucked up, putting your name down.
A wheelchair sat alone under a flickering light. Or, rather, what had once been a wheelchair. Now, shackles hung open on either of the arms, with syringes attached to both. An IV bag was suspended above what could only be described as machinery; a mechanism that looked suspiciously helmet-shaped, a twisted crown of picks ready to be pushed down . . .
Right into the skull of whoever sat there.
You felt your guts twist just looking at it, and Leon? He just stopped in his tracks and looked over at you with the only question that mattered. “Alright . . . what the fuck?”
● ・○・●・○・●
Explaining the concept of an upgrade chair was hard enough on its own. The fact that this one in particular looked like a torture device? That really didn’t help.
Leon stood off to the side - well away from the device at the center of the room. A device that Tatiana calibrated as if it didn’t look like it would instantly lobotomize anyone who sat in it. “So . . . the green gel, that goes in there and you can use it to . . . what, unlock abilities?”
You grimaced for about the fiftieth time in the last few hours. “Well . . . okay it sounds really dumb when you say it like that, but yeah. Since Sebastian is in a matrix-kind of thing, he can, like, upload better stamina, or health, or things like that.”
That didn’t seem to improve Leon’s opinion of the thing, and you could hardly blame him. “So that was your plan?”
“Well, no, not exactly-” you felt like you were making an idiot of yourself, so you quickly turned to the stoic nurse behind you. “Is there more there than this? Like, can you help with . . . I dunno, more surgical stuff?”
Tatiana hummed, pensive, but never paused her work on the upgrade chair from hell. “What kind of surgery are you looking for?”
“The parasite removal kind,” Leon said, stepping forward. “I’ve got something in me. I need to get it out.”
Another hum. “So much of that going around, these days.”
“No,” you matched Leon’s movement, coming up at his side. “Like, he’s got an actual little bug parasite in his chest.”
“And you want me to remove it?”
Leon’s voice was sandpaper as he nodded. “Ideally without killing me, yeah.”
At last, the Nurse moved away from her machine. Her steps were smooth, making her look almost like she was gliding towards you both rather than walking. Through those owl-like glasses, she studied the man at your side, like she could see through him. Or like she wasn’t sure he was really there at all. “There are many ailments in this place. I can cure none of them. But I can give you the tools to help you find those cures yourself.”
“By what? Getting in the chair?”
“Does the prospect of changing frighten you?”
Leon’s eyes flashed, but his words were aloof to match hers. “I just don’t really want to be turned into a human pin-cushion, is all.”
You couldn’t take it anymore. “Please,” you said, willing Tatiana to look at you. Praying that you would see some sympathy in those grey eyes. “Is there anything you can do? Or . . . do you know of anything that could help?”
Impassive as ever, Tatiana just looked at you. “As I said, I can help you both, though perhaps not in the way you wanted. Though it would seem to me that a sickness from elsewhere would require treatment from elsewhere.”
For all his training, all the strength you knew that Leon possessed, you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered down. The way his nostrils flared as he took a calming breath. You’d led him to a dead end. All that hope you’d just felt? You got to experience it dissolving then, a cotton candy dream falling into cold water.
Fuck. God fucking damn it.
Leon spared one last glance at the chair, then shook his head. “I think we can be done here.”
Tatiana didn’t look offended. She just gave him a slight nod. “Very well. If either of you should change your mind, though, I will be here.”
Your muttered thanks were half-hearted, because you couldn’t feel much more than dread as Leon crossed back towards the way you’d both come from. Tatiana remained behind, thankfully, as you chased after the storm that was the man you’d failed. “Leon-”
He didn’t respond, but he did come to a stop in front of Tatiana’s desk. His shoulders rose and fell beneath his bomber jacket, and he turned to you with an expression like stone. Not angry, just . . . well, troubled. How could he not be?
“I’m so sorry, I thought-”
“It’s not your fault,” he shook his head, reassuring you despite the news he’d just gotten. Running a gloved hand through his hair, all he could do was shake his head. “It’s better than I would have come up with.”
That didn’t mean much when your plan amounted to nothing though, did it?
You didn’t know where you were well enough. You didn’t know how to help. So, your mind tore at itself all over again. “I’ll think of something.” You weren’t sure if you were reassuring Leon or yourself. Either way, the man in question held up a hand.
“Hey,” he said, his voice softer, “seriously, it’s okay. We tried one option and it didn’t work out. That’s how it goes.”
“Okay, but . . . I don’t know what other options there are,” you said, feeling your throat constrict a bit because you could not mess this up. You had to find a way to make this right-
Leon’s hand found your shoulder again, and again you found something in you tilting on its axis. “Then we’ll get back out there, and we’ll look for one. Okay?” He looked so steady. So impossibly calm. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll get thrown into another knock-off game where they have what we need.”
It wasn’t much, but the thought made you laugh a little. “That’s a lot to leave up to luck.”
“I got lucky enough to be stuck in here with someone who knows their way around,” he said, and again, you were floored by his kindness. By the fact that it was directed at you, someone who’d stumbled their way into everything in the last few hours, good or bad.
“Okay, but I think you being stuck here at all is enough bad luck to cancel out any good luck.”
“Can’t argue that, I guess,” he admitted with a tilt of his head - one that readjusted his bangs so you could more clearly see the sincerity in his eyes. “But it’s not the first shitshow I’ve found myself in. This one’s just . . . got a little more interdimensional travel.”
How the hell was he so calm about this? Even with all this aside? It felt like you were a hair’s breadth away from collapsing in on yourself at any given time. Yet here Leon was, a parasite in his chest and no way to remove it in sight, once more taking the time to reassure you that it was going to be alright.
Even if he would be well within his rights to tell you to get your shit together.
So, taking a breath, you tried to do just that. “Okay. Okay. Well . . . I guess if we can find a way to get out of STEM, maybe that’ll . . . I dunno, kick us back to the real world? Or, my world, I guess?”
“Sounds like something worth testing,” Leon agreed, already steeling himself.
“Only thing is that I’m pretty sure Sebastian doesn’t get ‘out’ until the end of the game.” Which meant every boss fight, every mind-bending scenario, everything that you couldn’t quite remember between you both and the exit.
You weren’t surprised when Leon just shrugged. “Then we’ve got places to be. Is everything in here weak to fire?”
“Pretty sure, yeah.”
With that and one last smile that left you with a warmth in your chest you weren’t prepared for, Leon turned back towards the barred door. There, as if she could sense she was needed, this game’s mysterious woman in red appeared. “Nurse, uh, Tatiana?”
“Yes?”
“You can help us, actually.”
“How so?”
“Rubbing alcohol, rags, and a lighter.”
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A/N: Oh Miss Tatiana Gutierrez, you will always be famous to me 🙏
So sorry for the long wait on this one! I've been very busy lately and also fighting the motivation monsters (and also writing my other ongoing fics), but thank you all so much for your patience and for reading! Y'all will be hanging out in the Evil Within for a bit, but I promise there are more worlds to come, and I'm very excited to get to them all!
Tag List: (if you want to be added, just let me know!): @whoskeiraaa @f420581 @windyventi @xingyunny @galaxylibella @winterassassin1804 @karinasari @avaragenerd @lightofdis @duchessofhyrule @danicatsz @probably--possessed @kaitieskidmore97 @ella-janehaven @deo-data @kashasenpai @varkafan69 @mwonstruck7
Wait wait what's the lore behind "Under the Skin"? Why don't Leon and the reader character like each other anymore? I probably missed it, but I'm reading the chapters we have so far, and I like it!
Hooo boy there is a fair bit of history there XD If you want all the details (and have the time to read 60+ chapters of fanfic) then Between the Bones has all the answers! Otherwise, it'll be addressed as we go in Under the Skin, but if you're looking for the abridged version (under the cut for spoilers) . . .
Basically, you and Leon met during training under Major Krauser, and started a relationship in secret due to the Army's regulations against fraternization. Eventually, higher-ups (namely Derek C. Simmons of RE6 fame) found out about this relationship, and decided to leverage it against you to get you to do his dirty work. In order to protect Leon (and because, frankly, a lot of the soldiers you two trained alongside died in an operation gone wrong and you were feeling afraid of losing more people you cared for) you broke things off.
In the years since, to avenge the people you lost, you've been fighting very hard and ruthlessly against Umbrella, and you've distanced yourself from Leon and pretty much everyone else to make things "simpler"!
It's a bit more complicated than that, but that's the jist of it! Thank you so much for reading my story!
so I picked up between the bones a while ago because the premise behind it and sarge felt most similar to my oc for Leon. over a year later I’ve finally put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard I guess) and started trying to write out their story together and I don’t think that would’ve really happened if I hadn’t stumbled upon between the bones while looking for x reader stories to try to put said oc into. so thanks for being one of the indirect kicks in the ass that got me to actually writing for the first time in a while lol
BRO.
OH MY GOD that means the world to hear!!! Like genuinely, being any amount of inspiration is such an honor, thank you so much for reading my story and I'm so glad it helped you write your own! I would absolutely love to read it if you're comfortable! Otherwise, thank you so much for the kind words, and have fun writing!!
I kinda wanna post my cosplays but that would allow the world to know the face of the idiot who wrote more words about Leon Kennedy at bootcamp then Frank Herbert wrote in the first Dune book
Special thanks to @theycallmedarling for proofreading and for fixing my awful English and for @loveiscosmicsin for the support and suggestions. Was inspired by @cryran88 's fic.
You and Leon reach the lake house at last, but your mission turns out to be far from over, and the danger far from passed.
(Cross-posted from Ao3)
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Valdelobos and the people in it seemed to be wholly united in one goal: killing the two of you. And damned if they weren’t persistent in achieving that goal.
The mob and its weapons were bad enough on their own. The traps were another annoyance that Leon, personally, could do without. But as the two of you passed through a tunnel and came out the other side, Leon felt well and truly done with this place when a villager spotted you, then lit the fuse on a stick of dynamite.
“Ahí va eso!” The man shouted the words as he hurled the weapon through the air. Though you both managed to clear the explosion’s radius, you were showered in dirt all the same. You both tried to take shelter in the closest structure and nearly ran into another trip line for your troubles. It was then and there that Leon decided that this place could officially bite his ass. Frustration clashed hard with the ever-present guilt at the back of his mind, enough to dull the bite of the latter a touch.
At least he could share that frustration with you. And share it plentifully, as more villagers came running at you both.
Retreating out of the explosive-trapped shack, hearing another fuse beginning to burn down from somewhere overhead, and about to be flanked, you and Leon both nodded to each other.
Enough was enough.
When the villagers approaching you both ducked under their own tripwire, you were quick to remind them of the drawbacks of such traps. All it took was a bullet to the bundle of dynamite on the wall, and then, tripwire or no, there were two and a half fewer villagers in your path. The one that remained, even missing an arm and part of his torso, still got back up just in time for another stick of dynamite to arc towards you both. This time, you ran forward, moving towards the dismembered man - who Leon promptly knocked back down with a kick. One that snapped vertebrae and make the villager go still.
Leon couldn’t let his attention linger on the way those red tendrils danced from the massive cavity the explosion had torn free. Not as the explosion at your backs beat heavy against his eardrums, and more residents approached to extend him a bloody welcome.
But these bastards weren’t the only ones with dynamite. Leon was reminded of that fact all too well when you pulled a stick of it free from your belt - one of the ones you’d salvaged from the trap at the farm. The only trouble was lacking something to light it with, save for-
“How’s your aim?” you called back to him, coming to the same conclusion that he’d found himself.
Leon almost smiled. “Guess we’ll find out!”
It must have been a good enough answer for you, because you were tossing the unlit dynamite a moment later, arcing it perfectly towards the villagers approaching through the trees. Leon was ready, his pistol up. His eyes were sharp, his mind making the same grizzly calculations he’d learned to make in a split second, and then he squeezed the trigger.
Fire. Another boom, and then more adversaries were in pieces.
He almost missed the way your eyes snapped back to his, the light of your approval shining on him before you refocused .
It wasn’t much of a fight, after that. The few remaining on the ground were dispatched by bullets and blades both as they tried to rush you. That brutal, beautiful efficiency you’d moved with years ago had sharpened. It was just as terrifying as that first day. Just as impressive. And for a moment, as you fought, Leon allowed himself to be glad that you were fighting with him. He was glad that, despite it all, he had someone on his side, even if the plain clothes and clear words of the villagers still weighed heavy on his conscience. Whatever their reason, bioweapon or not, they would kill you both if you hesitated. So, Leon was all too glad to have your skills on his side. And he demonstrated his own skills again with a shot aimed high, towards the woman that was hurling dynamite at you from above. Once her weapon was blown apart in her own hand, one last attacker stood through the trees, framed by a dock and a cabin at the water’s edge.
The same cabin that Leon had found the photo of at the hunter’s lodge. The same one that, with any luck, Ashley Graham was being kept in.
So, once that lone attacker was dealt with - a well-placed shot to his head and a final drive of your knife when his body began to twitch - Leon threw a glance your way. You were smudged with dirt and blood, but you looked resolute all the same. You'd survived another few minutes, and that irrational part of him - the one that couldn't shut up, no matter what his mind said - spoke out again.
“We're popular today.”
“Unfortunately.”
“You’d think they’d take the hint.”
Leon didn’t miss the way your eyes sparked as you spoke. Your words were just short of being sharp – a tone that he knew meant teasing more than tension. At least, it had meant teasing once upon a time. “Some people can’t help themselves.”
Leon snorted. Fair enough.
As glad as he was of your skills, Leon was more glad that you were talking again. However clipped your words were. However foolish he was for that. But maybe if the cabin by the water’s edge was where the First Daughter and her kidnappers were, then he wouldn’t be acting foolish about you for much longer.
And then things could return to normal. As normal as his gunmetal grey world could get.
“This the place?”
“Seems that way,” you agreed, gun at the ready as you approached the weathered structure. “Think we should get ready for a fight.”
“I think if we round a corner around here we should prepare for a fight.”
The padlock on the door stopped you both, but so too did the sounds coming from inside the house. It sounded like something being slammed into the wall, or the floor, over and over again. Whatever it was, it made Leon glimpse your way with a look of wariness that you shared. There were still too many variables up in the air. Too much that neither of you knew. So, as you picked the lock holding the door closed, Leon readied himself for whatever might be inside.
The immediate interior, once the two of you were inside, was empty of movement. Like much of the other buildings in the village, it was in some disarray; fishing supplies were strewn about, and pieces of the roof that had caved in were playing bedding to the dust and dirt settling atop them. The wood groaned with the effort of holding itself upright. Flies buzzed over fish carcasses on the table, long-since forgotten about, but there were no signs of Ashley.
Down the hallway, you disarmed the tripwire this time, but left the dynamite as you pressed onward, drawing closer to whatever was making that banging noise. In a room strewn with dusted and old-fashioned science equipment and a sepia photo of a man and a young boy, that noise grew louder still. Leon recognized a metallic clang to the sound of it. Like a hammer falling on something solid.
Or a hostage desperately kicking against a bolted door?
Leon tried not to let his mind wander to hopeful what-ifs. That was always dangerous. Instead, when there was no one in the room you found yourselves in, he turned his attention towards the bookshelf against the wall. One that very poorly covered a gap in the wall. It was easily pushed aside, and Leon readied his gun as he stepped in, letting you cover his six.
This room, at last, was not empty, but it wasn’t a hostage making that noise. Instead, it was a man, the axe in his hand turned backwards so the flat of the metal could be used as a hammer. He slammed it against the floor, where Leon could see crooked planks of wood were being nailed into place. And beneath those planks? A handle and hinges, marking a trap door.
Jackpot.
One man with a hatchet wasn’t much of a threat compared to the whole of the village you’d both fought, but now wasn’t the time for carelessness. Not when things might well be coming to an end soon. So, when the man took note of the two of you, rising to his feet, neither of you waited for him to get close. His warning cry of outsiders died on his lips, and as soon as you were both sure he would not rise again, you moved to the trap door.
The end of the line, God willing. Of course, years of operations in the field and hard truths had led Leon to believe that, more often than not, God was mostly just willing to make things difficult for him. That was the heaviness that pressed down on him as the two of you reached down, ripping up the planks of wood so you could get to the trap door.
There was a world where Ashley Graham was underneath it, terrified but alive, and where the two of you could get her out of this place. One where you could solve the mystery of what was going on here and with the traitorous STRATCOM soldiers later, once the First Daughter was safe.
There was also a world where she wasn’t there at all. Or, if she was, then maybe she was injured. Or worse. The possibility of finding her with the same reddened eyes as the villagers lurked at the back of Leon’s mind, just as many other worse possibilities did. Maybe she’d be there, but so too would the men who kidnapped her. Maybe they would get the drop on you both. Maybe Leon wouldn’t be fast enough. Maybe he would be reminded of why he preferred to work alone, these days.
But just as it did little to hope for the best, Leon knew he couldn’t let fear of the worst control him. He’d learned long ago to quiet those parts of his mind. At least until the world so often proved them right.
He could let those darker thoughts say I told you so over a bottle of scotch later, if need be. For now, he just looked up at you as the way was cleared. You, who maybe weren’t as far gone as he once thought. Who, despite your own self-imposed isolation and reputation, had his back. “I’ll go first,” Leon said, keeping his voice down.
Predictably, you didn’t like his decision. Leon could see that much in the pinch of your brows. Still, after a moment, you nodded.
Your hand, flecked with dirt and blood, reached for the trap door handle, your other holding your gun. Leon followed suit, feeling the familiar weight of his Silver Ghost in his palm. He readied himself to fire it as, once he gave you an affirmative nod, you threw the trap door open.
Nothingness greeted him. Nothing he could see, nothing he could hear . . . nothing at all. Even with worry, another old bedfellow, breathing down his neck, there was little choice but to go forward.
You didn’t seem to like that truth any more than he did, by the expression you gave him; your lips pursed and your eyes shadowed. Still, you didn’t protest as Leon moved forward. The sheer darkness that greeted him made Leon reach for his flashlight, and when he could see nothing but a pathway down below, he took that step over the edge. Weightless for but a moment, as soon as he felt the ground meet his boots, his eyes were forward. There were no government-trained men with guns awaiting him, nor more villagers with pitchforks. Instead, Leon found himself alone in a tunnel, surrounded by cold and the smell of the earth.
Onward, then.
“Clear,” he called up to you, stepping forward. A moment later, you dropped down alongside him, clicking your own flashlight on as you took up watch on his six. The two of you took cautious steps forward, the silence of the tunnel a stark contrast to the dynamite that had been going off around you both only moments ago. Leon’s ears still rang from it all - enough that he didn’t hear the rustling of fabric until he rounded the corner ahead.
There, at the end of the tunnel, amidst burlap sacks and stone, was a person in a bag. At least, Leon had to assume it was a person, with the way the material moved, like someone inside was struggling to be free. As best they could, anyway, with the ropes that were tied around them and the top cinched closed.
Leon had a high success rate on missions - that was part of why he’d been chosen for this, after all. But he also had grown used to the feeling of being too late. So, seeing movement from within the bag, seeing someone captured but alive, he didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, kneeling and pinning his flashlight between his cheek and shoulder. Undoing the ties at the top of the bag were easy, and as you turned to watch his back, Leon pulled the rough material down . . .
But it was not the golden hair of the President’s Daughter that greeted him. Instead, it was dark hair, a scruffy jaw and eyes that flashed with surprise as soon as they met Leon’s own. Surprise. Not fear. That alone was interesting, setting aside everything else. Leon had spent hours poring over the photos of Ashely and her kidnappers, and this man, whoever he was, didn’t match a single one of those descriptions.
So then who the hell was he?
Looking back towards you, Leon found no answers in your expression - your eyes narrowed and fixed on the newly uncovered hostage. That meant answers would have to come from the man himself.
His was muffled, thanks to the tape over his mouth - which Leon promptly ripped off. A grunt of pain was his reward, prompted no doubt from the tape pulling a few beard hairs loose. The man all but confirmed as much with a rather annoyed look. “That hurts, you know?”
English. He spoke it with an accent, but he spoke it clearly and his eyes were free of the redness that Leon had seen in the villagers so far. One of the missing people that Castaña had mentioned, then? Not one of the missing hikers, if the beautifully made leather jacket and button-up that the man wore were anything to go on. More layers to the mystery.
Layers that would hopefully be unraveled soon. So, even as the house above them creaked, Leon went on. “Seemed like you really wanted to talk.”
“How observant, señor,” the strange man replied, only for you to cut in.
“We should get moving.” Your voice was tight; your eyes turned towards the tunnel entrance. Like you knew something was coming.
“I would definitely agree,” the hostage nodded, “although I do have one very important question.” There was a hopefully glint in the man’s eyes, one that let Leon know exactly how important his next words were to him. “Either of you got a smoke?”
Leon supposed that everyone had their priorities. Still, he didn’t really manage not to scoff. “You know, those things’ll kill you.”
“Oh. Well, maybe just untie me then?”
Shifting as best he could, the man - whoever he was - tried to orient himself so the rope’s ties were accessible to-
“Leon!”
Your voice, accompanied by an immediate gunshot made Leon whirl around.
And his heart turned to stone when he saw your pistol smacked out of your grip and a massive, pale hand wrap around your throat.
No-
For a split second, as you were hoisted easily off the ground, your body used like a shield, Leon felt an old fear seize him. He saw the massive stature, the dark sleeve of whoever or whatever was attacking you and had to battle back those long-eclipsed memories of a now-dead city.
No, God, please-
Then he saw the bearded, severe face of his target, and he was back in the present, firing a perfectly aimed shot over your shoulder when the opportunity arose.
Not you-
A shot that, predictably, did nothing. Neither did the knife that you stabbed into the man’s chest - at least not enough to stop him from pulling you back-
⧫⧫⧫
And then you were hurtling backwards, sputtering from the pressure the action placed on your throat - and crying out in pain as you slammed into Leon. You both fell backwards, crashing into the wall. The hostage Leon had found, still restrained, cried out something as your vision swam. You heard Leon’s gun firing over your shoulder, felt the movement of the man you’d landed on as you tried to get up, and then when your vision was clear, you saw Leon rising, stepping in front of you.
Putting himself between you and danger once again. You called his name, reaching desperately for your knife, and were on your feet just in time to see him be thrown in the opposite direction. Wood splintered. His flashlight clattered to the ground . . .
And Leon Kennedy didn’t get back up.
Horror. Rage. Fragmentation.
You used all of it as fuel as you reached down, taking up the gun that Leon had dropped. Your hand closed around its grip, the metal still warm, just in time for your attacker to go for your neck once again. You slipped to the side, your mind scrambling to form a plan. A strategy. If you could get this man, this thing, away from Leon-
But there was little room to move. Even if you managed to dodge the first hand, you weren’t fast enough to escape the second.
A shackle of flesh and bone closed around your forearm, and even as you turned to fire your gun into your attacker’s body, it wasn’t enough. Not to stop you from being spun around and slammed into the opposite wall. Your back protested as it was driven hard against the stones, and again as the man pressed his hand around your neck and dragged you up. For a second time, you kicked and struggled, moving to fire Leon’s gun until that hand too was pinned to the wall.
You heard the restrained man call out, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.
Your kicks grew weaker as blood flow was cut off. Your eyes darkened. An animal in a trap, all you could do was bear your teeth, glaring into the eyes of the towering, bearded man who held you.
A man who spoke with perfect clarity as the barbs of failure dug into you.
“Do not resist, child,” he said, staring you down from under the shadow of his hat.
And as darkness closed in on you, you found it harder and harder to fight. For years and years, that had been all you’d been doing. All you were good for. Now, faced with the threat of it ending, you found your heart laboring in its panic. As you struggled for breath, for consciousness, your eyes fell once more to Leon. He lay still, slouched amidst the wreckage of the crates he’d been tossed into.
You could only hope that he was still breathing. That he would get up. That, if there was any mercy at all in this world, he would be alright.
Hopes turned quickly to fears, though, as they so often did. Then, as if he knew your mind, your attacker spoke once more, before you lost your grip on the waking world.
