Abyss. I worldbuild, draw monsters, body horror, and sometimes fanart. Do not use or repost my artwork without my permission. I am a 21+ adult and my content is not tailored to minors - you have been warned!
helllooooo I'm back with another commission!! This one's a little different from my typical work, but I had a LOT of fun with it ngl
Paring: Leon x Bioweapon!Reader
Rating: E for everyone
Synopsis: Leon wasn't doing super well after his fight with Del Lago. He remembered passing out in the boat- so why is he waking up in a boat house?? Well, turns out, he has one very special Verdugo to thank
Note: Pinkie is used as a nickname for the reader, on account of you still having some soft spots
You weren’t sure how long it had been since you woke up. This new form of yours didn’t really need to sleep, and you spent so much time in hiding that you couldn’t really keep up with the sun cycle. You wandered through the trees, your body protesting every other step. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to be, but something about this form felt…half baked at best.
You looked at your hands, malformed and disfigured. Your thumb, pointer, and ring finger had extended to become grotesque claws while your middle finger and pinky shriveled into useless nubs. Something told you they weren’t supposed to be there at all. You felt the soft pink spot on your belly, one of many where the chitin didn’t fully harden or form at all. Whatever you were, you weren’t complete.
Your spiked tail swished behind you as you walked. The mandibles that grew where your mouth once was struggled to try and make some form of tune as you attempted to hum to yourself for comfort. All that came out was a soft chirping sound. You wished you knew what you had done to deserve such a cruel fate. Maybe then it wouldn’t feel so unfair.
Finally, you made it to your destination. A little cliff that overlooked the lake. It was normally a quiet place. Normally.
Today though, it was your front row seat to your very own munus. You watched as a man far paler than any you’d seen before struggled against the monster of the lake. You’d heard locals call it Del Lago. You didn’t know much about the creature, only that you had seen the people of the village feed it failed experiments. It wasn’t lost on you that you would have been fish food, had you not found that hole in the crumbling cell they put you in.
You watched as a blonde man threw harpoon after harpoon at the creature. You rubbed the tips of your claws together, softly chittering anxiously. You were sure his boat would tip over at any moment. A cold lump swelled in your chest as you watched, hoping for the best for him. It wasn’t like the villagers to give Del Lago a living meal. You wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was like you?
You didn’t have too much time to dwell on it though. You cheered (well, you came as close to cheering as you could) as you watched the man kill the beast. A joy that was quickly stomped out of you as you watched him collapse on himself. From where you were, you couldn’t really see what happened, but you could tell he wasn’t in the best shape. It was a feeling you knew well.
It was decided. You made your way to the lake, remembering how you had wished for a friend when the nightmare started for you. One good thing about your new form was that it was fast, and strong. You made it to the lake in no time, swimming to his boat. The swim back was a little harder, pushing the glorified raft to shore, but you made it work..
You looked down at the man, fretting over him almost like a concerned mother. At first glance, you’d think he was dead. But, you could still hear his soft breathing. There was hope for him. He was soaked, which wasn’t really a shock all things considered. You could see the faint grey lines running up and down his arms and face. No doubt that black liquid was flowing through his veins. You gently placed the underside of your chin against his forehead, and the heat of his fever nearly burned the soft underbelly you had there.
That’s when you heard them. Ganados yelling in Spanish to find “The American.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know who they meant. Your body acted before you even fully processed what you were doing, picking the man up and quickly scurrying to a nearby abandoned boathouse you knew would be safe.
It was one of your more frequented hiding places, so once you arrived there was already a small bed of gathered hay there waiting for him. You’d scrounged it up and used it as a bed before. Or, tried too, before you realized this form didn’t sleep. You laid the man on it, and finally got a closer look at him. You realized he had weapons, and was more fit than any other human you’d seen before. You could tell immediately why the cult wanted him.
His sleep wasn’t restful. He twitched and jerked and mumbled under his breath for the entire time he was knocked out. At one point his sleeping body even threw a punch, causing you to jump so hard you’re pretty sure you touched the ceiling. It made you aware of the fact that yours probably wasn’t a face he’d want to see when he woke up. So, you slunk into the shadows you had become so accustomed to while you waited for him to wake.
🩻🩻🩻
You had lost track of time. All you knew was that it was dark outside when the man finally jerked awake, bolting upright faster than he probably should have, all things considered. He rubbed his eyes and temples before looking around. “Where the hell am I?” he muttered to himself as he stood, checking to make sure he had all of his equipment. If you had dog ears, they would have perked up.
English. He was speaking English! You felt a small tingle of hope as you heard the familiar language. You had picked up a little bit of Spanish here and there just by being around it, but you were by no means fluent. It was more alienating than you realized, not even being able to listen in on conversations. You were happy to finally have someone you could understand.
He took another good look at his surroundings, but it left him with more questions than answers. “How the hell did I get here?...” He asked no one in particular. You still decided to answer his question. Slowly, you came out of the shadows.
Not slowly enough though. A bullet buzzed right past your ear, barely missing your head. You panicked, and scrambled back into the safety of the dark corners of the boat house. It was too late though, the American was aware of you now, and you were firmly in his crosshairs.
He approached you, weapon drawn. “Identify yourself.” He demanded. And you would have if you could have, but you didn’t even know your own name anymore. Not to mention you couldn’t speak through your mandibles. That also didn’t help.
“I’m not asking.” The man said, authority dripping from his voice. So, you gave it a shot, but all that came out as a gross bubbling sound. It was then a bright light flash banged you, burning your eyes as you tried to hide them behind malformed hands.
“Oh, another monster. Just what I needed.” The man nearly spat as he readied his weapon. The word "monster" struck something deep inside you. A raw, exposed nerve as tender as the pink parts of your skin. It sent a sick pit of darkness to your stomach, and put a wet weighted blanket on your shoulders. You knew it was true, but you so badly wished it wasn’t.
You couldn’t even cry, your tear ducts having shriveled away. All you could do was shake, and bubble pathetically. The American cocked his head at you, taking in your pitiful display.
“Come out of the corner.” He demanded. You hesitated, still scared of the weapon in his hand. Still, you obeyed, gradually inching out of your safe corner. You made sure to stay down on all fours as you did so, knowing your full height would probably get you shot. The man walked around you in a circle, examining you as if he was a scientist you were under his microscope.
He came to stand in front of you again. “You look…diffrent.” He settled on. You cocked your head at him, then in a very deliberate manner as to not spook him with sudden movements, you put yourself into a more upright sitting position. You showed him your exposed weak points, hoping he knew you were trying to tell him you meant him no harm.
He blinked at your little display. His body seemed to relax a bit, but the gun stayed up. “Can you speak?” He asked. You made an awful screeching sound in response.
The man flinched as you did. “Okay, okay! I get it, you can stop that!” He said as you quieted down. He thought a moment, before speaking again. “Nod your head yes or no, got it?”
You nodded yes. “Good.” The American said. And then the questions started.
“Did you bring me in here?”
Yes.
“Was it because Saddler told you to?”
No.
He really wished he could ask why. “Do you know your name? Actually, do you even have a name?”
No. Well, actually… You tilted your head to the side and looked up in thought. Did the name The Merchant gave you count? You weren’t sure, so you went with the safe bet and shook your head no again.
Leon narrowed his eyes, not fond of the uncertain response. “Do you remember anything about your past?”
No again.
He realized he had gotten off topic. There were more important questions to ask. “Are you with the Illuminados?”
You were genuinely offended by that, almost violently shaking your head no. You knew it was a valid question, but you still weren’t happy with the accusation.
He kept his gun pointed at you as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a picture of a familiar girl. You knew her! Well, you knew of her, you’d seen the villagers transport her to the church. “Do you recognize this girl?”
Yes!
“You do?”
Enthusiastic yes!
“Is she in the Church like I suspect?”
She was last you checked, so you nodded yes again.
The man was quiet for a second, clearly thinking about something. Finally, he opened his mouth. “Can you help me get the key to the church?”
You looked down sadly, then shook your head no. You had seen the shrine where they kept it before, but you had no idea how to actually get the damn thing. The man sighed, then finally holstered his gun. “Well, worth a shot.” He muttered.
Just as he did, a device in his pocket rang. He took a final glance at you, before pulling it out. “Leon!” A female voice rang out. So his name was Leon. “Your last transmission was three hours ago, where have you been!”
“Welllll,” Leon started, glancing at you over the tech in his hand, “Are you in a mental state that’s capable of receiving information you may find troubling?”
“No.”
“In that case I’ve just been busy. Don’t worry, I won't let it happen again.”
“And the Church?”
“Still looking for the key.”
“Copy that. I’m glad you’re okay. Roost out.”
And with that, he put the device back in his pocket and started to walk away. A small panic ran through you as he did. You didn’t want to be alone again. So, you did what any half formed monster would do- you followed him.
Once Leon noticed what you were doing, and it didn’t take him very long to, he stopped and turned to you. “No. I don’t need a tag-a-long,” He said sternly.
Buuuuuuuuuttttt he didn’t pull out his gun. So how serious could he have really been? Once he started walking again, you followed once more. He turned back to you. “I said stay.”
You screeched at him, then shook your head no. He took a step back,fully hating that sound. “Fine, fine!” He snapped. “Can you hold our own in a fight?”
You nodded excitedly, tail swishing behind you as if to emphasise your point. Leon nodded. “Fine. Then come on.” You chirped excitedly, following him out of the boat house. You had a deep desire to be around people, but the people around here weren’t safe to be around. There was something soothing about finally being able to sate that desire. Leon gave you a side eye as the two of you walked together. “You know, weirdly enough you’re not the scariest thing that has followed me around. You’re probably the nicest though.”
🩻🩻🩻
Following Leon around had proven to be…challanging to say the least. You still weren’t entirely sure what he was doing here or why he had a plauga in him, but what you did know was that he seemed to be a magnet of sorts for trouble. You were still limping after a fight with El Gigante, though somehow your weak sense of pride was more wounded than your body was. It felt like a dog had been more helpful in the fight than you were. Not even a modified dog, just a regular old dog with a bad leg.
Leon must have noticed. “Hey, come here,” he said, gesturing with his hand for emphasis, “Let me see your stomach.” You did as he said with little complaint, standing to your full high to let him see your bruises. He made a clicking sound, pressing his tongue to his teeth that you tried to replicate. That earned you a look, one that told you that you probably shouldn’t do that again. Leon didn’t say it out loud though, he just reached into one of his hip pouches.
“Looks like you got pretty banged up,” He said as he showed you an aerosol can, “ This will help, but you gotta stay still. Got it?” You nodded, then fought the urge to flinch as the cold spray hit your exposed skin. It was only uncomfortable for a moment though, leaving you feeling right as rain after it faded.
You gave Leon a quizzical look. “First aid spray,” He explained, throwing the can aside in flagrant disregard for the environment's wellbeing, “The boys back at the lab spent forever reverse engineering it from the one Umbrella used to make.”
None of those words meant anything to you, especially not in that order. You were just happy to feel better. As you got back to your feet, Leon continued. “That was our last one. Lucky for us, I know a guy.” You chirped curiously at Leon, following him to this mysterious ‘guy he knew.’ You were honestly excited to meet more humans, hopefully ones that wouldn’t be scared of you.
Until you saw the familiar blue glow of the natural gas fire. This may not be a new human, but it was a human you were excited to see none the less. You ran ahead, ignoring Leon calling after you. “Hey, wait! You’re gonna scare him!”
Leon rushed to catch up, only to be greeted by the sight of The Merchant calmly talking to you. “Aye, well done by the way!” The Merchant said to you, “That mange-y mutt's been making all sorts of mess around, glad ya finally took care of em.”
It was then The Merchant turned to Leon, looking at his confused face. “Oh, ‘ello stranger! Don’t mind me, or the big ‘un, just another of my…associates.”
“You know that verdugo?” Leon asked.
The Merchant straightened up a bit as he realized Leon knew you too. “Of sorts, of sorts. And I see you do too! Heh, no surprises there, I figured you two would sniff each other out sooner or lata’” He shrugged.
Leon approached the table, giving you a weary look. “What do you know about them?” He asked. Leon wouldn’t say it outloud, but it was eating him alive knowing next to nothing about you. You were following him around after all, and while you proved to be helpful for now, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t prepared for an upcoming betrayal.
The Merchant leaned forward on the table, looking Leon up and down. “A bit here, a bit there. Hard earned intel Stranger, the kind that doesn’t come for free. Or cheap.”
Leon fought the urge to roll his eyes. He considered just leaving it alone, going about his shopping and then getting a move on with his mission. But…he couldn’t. He justified it by reminding himself that he would be bringing this creature -you- around Ashley, and therefore he needed to know you were safe to have around.
So, he reached into his bag, and produced an elegant mask, one inlaid with three glimmering red rubies. He tossed it onto the Merchant’s table with little fanfare. “Will that cover it?”
The Merchant seemed to be genuinely shocked as he took the mask, inspecting the gemstones to insure they were real. “My my Stranger! I gotta say, I wasn’t expectin’ this kinda…curiosity from ya. Ya always struck me as more o’ a type to not ask questions that don’t need askin’,” He said as he put the mask away. He looked over to you. “Look atcha Pinkie! Makin’ friends whereva’ you go.” You bubbled happily.
“So what do you know?” Leon asked
“Precious lit’le,” The Merchant confessed, “That creature followin’ ya around, Pinkie as I like to call ‘em, looks ta be another sorry sod that got snatched. One o’ the ‘pure bodies,’ as those cultist loonies like to all ‘em.”
Leon tilted his head, leaning in a bit. “Pure bodies?” He asked.
The Merchant nodded. “Ye, one o’ the ones that can, “accept the blessin’” whateva’ that means,” The Merchant took a break to cough before continuing. “And Pinkie, well, Pinkie musta had the purest body o’ em all. Only the best get what Pinki got given.”
Leon nodded, taking in all of the information. “So, who were they before?” He finally asked.
The Merchant simply lifted his hands in the air. “Who’s ta say. Could’a been a prince or a paupa’, cult don’t care none. Alls that’s safe ta say is whateva’ these folks had in mind for Pinkie, it clearly failed. Pinkie’s been skitterin’ around ‘ere for the better half o’ the last year or so, showin’ up here or there. Seems ta have taken quite the shine to you though!” The Merchant laughed as you stood behind Leon, as if you were his body guard. “Look atcha, stealin’ hearts whereva’ ya go!”
The Merchant laughed as Leon rolled his eyes. “Now, didja jus’ wanna talk ‘bout ya new friend, or were ya looking to buy?” The Merchant asked.
Leon got his shopping done quickly. A first aid spray, a gun tune up, and a knife repair. The knife repair and tune up were going to take a little bit of time, leaving you and Leon to sit on a few boulders while you waited.
“So,” Leon asked, “Do you remember anything about who you were?”
You shook your head no, looking down sadly. You wished you did. You wished you had any connection to who you once were, to the human you used to be. You thought about it a lot, actually. Were you a good human? You liked to think you were.
Leon nodded, then continued. “For whatever it’s worth…I’m sorry. No one deserves…this.”
You were frozen. Your mind and body feeling and thinking a thousand things all at once. You had never even really thought your situation was worthy of an apology, it was just the way things were. It never fully occurred to you that you deserved an apology. You knew you were wronged, but a simple ‘sorry,’ wasn’t going to fix it.
And yet, some deep primal part of you was almost soothed by the act of someone, anyone acknowledging that what was done to you was wrong. That it shouldn’t have happened. That you lost something fundamental about you, and the least anyone could do was apologize for taking that away.
Leon continued, “I know it’s literally nowhere near equivalent, but, I kinda think I get it. I wasn’t given much choice in my, uh, career path. I was forced to become a DSO agent, and I think that might have killed something inside of me. It definitely makes it hard to relate to people that aren’t agents. Like I said, it’s not really comparable, but…I think on some level I get it.”
He was right, it was nowhere near equivalent. He was still fundamentally human. No one changed his body, no one took away his memories, no one turned him into an outright unfinished monster. And yet, something about him even trying to relate, to empathize, felt..endearing. You bubbled softly at him, letting him know you acknowledged and appreciated his attempts to understand.
Hesitantly, Leon reached out a hand and patted your back. You almost jumped. It had been so long since anyone had shown you any form of affection, that you had completely forgotten what it was like. It felt…warm, even though your thick exoskeleton.
“Maybe when we get out of here, you could help us,” Leon offered, “I can’t promise working for the US government is going to be all rainbows and roses, but they’ll keep you comfortable. And there will be humans around, I’m sure they’ll assign you a handler. I’ll even put in for the position if you want. What do you say? Sound good?”
You looked at him with wide, unbelieving eyes. No one had been this kind to you, ever. And to be shown such human kindness after knowing him for so little…You felt a familiar feeling in your stomach. The need to cry. It was a feeling you’d grown familiar with since your transformation, one that haunted you with the reminder you were unable to cry.
This time though, this time it felt different. It felt happier than the other times. You chirped and bubbled happily at Leon, causing him to laugh. He knew it was going to be a hard sell, getting the DSO to accept a bioweapon agent. But, he was also confident could throw his title around and make it happen. President Graham would owe him one after saving his daughter after all.
But he had to save Ashley first. “Stranger!” The Merchant called, “Guns all ready fer ya, knife too!”
Leon stood up and looked at you. He jerked his head in the direction of The Merchant. “Come on. Let’s get Ashley and get out of this hell hole, yeah?”
You nodded aggressively and bubbled happily. Nothing had ever sounded better to you. Maybe you’d never get used to this form, and maybe you’d never really feel human again. But for the first time since you woke up, you felt a glimmer of hope.
Man I've basically said all I could about this over in the DMs but man... I just loved this one so much, you did a fantastic job! They're gonna be such a dream team!
Average Polyergus and Corrupted Polyergus. In NINAH because I like NINAH right now and it got the ideas flowing proper!
Polyerguses are a breed of high-realist conduit manifestations who are psychic infiltrators, and can be considered parasitic. They blend in with local reality denizens by use of a mixture of psychic camouflaging and psychic soothing, making the local lifeforms incapable of registering the Polyergus as anything but a regular human being.
There's several types of Polyerguses. The top one is an average non-distruptive Polyergus (viewed through non-psychic lens) who follows the scent of suffering and desires only to lessen it, whilst the one on the bottom is a more "fictionalized" Polyergus type known as a Corrupted. The Corrupted Polyergus has a dysfunctional psychic camouflaging and soothing, causing it to look awkward and "in-between".
Both otherwise behave mostly as totally average humans. I wouldn't really call these two "NINAH OCs" at the moment, they're far too meta except for the Corrupted who I picture as being quite friendly and chipper.
There were three in total, but only one significantly survived the impact into Ahgmahdon after the sudden gravitational pull into the planets surface. The Isles remain the most technologically advanced creations ever built by humanity, the ships themselves being almost the same size as Earth and the life-bearing globes within the shell being almost the same size as Mars.
The ships are outfitted with complex mechanical systems, some which are kilometers long whilst others are nanoscale. The lengths of the legs are outfitted with relativistic gravity rods, and the inner life-bearing globe is suspended within the "terrarium" by use of a somewhat experimental magnetic gravity latch.
The dark "night" underside of the Isles contain the organs and brains of the main structure. At the underside epicenter resides the interstellar thruster limbs, much smaller than the locomotion limbs which were sadly never used as intended.
Uryagan Isles were the closest structures mankind ever built that housed the closest thing to an Intelligent Artificial Intelligences. Since the crash, the surviving Isle's central intelligence fragmented itself as it engaged life support mode, but has since adapted and sits at the center of the Shimmering Crash Site.
On the surviving Isle's life-bearing globe, life goes on. There was one catastrophic war, one equally catastrophic apocalypse, but life goes on.
"Hyperdimensional, metaphysical manifestations of a naked high-realist conduit. Browser breeds are of unpredictable temperament but usually do not tend to show aggression unless aggravated.
Naked high-realist conduits appear as black, arachnomorphic creatures of varying sizes. They are capable of inducing psychic invisibility on lesser beings by forcing the thought of their presence out of the waking and unconscious mind.
Like all high-realist manifestations, naked conduits are capable of shapeshifting and possession. Direct possession is the result of bites which spreads inner conduit neurology into whoever or whatever was bitten. This neurology can either be completely psychically cloaked from the infected, or it can be sensed. Conscious creatures aware of their own bite, subsequent infection, and presence of the possessive high-realist will be diagnosed with High-realist Perception."
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