#lsk

[localapparently]

you should have just ran away with me

[ancuiri]

[hereticalism]

too tired to move, too tired to leave

bf!leon kennedy, after the events of re2 aka modern au where world is fixed, fem!reader, hurt comfort, comfort, no angst, soft!leon, sfw, vulnerability, partially inspired by hard times by ethel cain/hayden, a/n—just finished re7

leon knew you were utterly and completely exhausted before you said so or had a meltdown.

he could tell. maybe it was the way your keys clattered too loud against the counter, or how your shoulders didn't drop even after you kicked off your shoes, or how you hovered in the doorway of his apartment like you weren't sure you were allowed to take up space tonight and rest was something you needed permission for—

but whatever it was, he knew.

"hey, come sit down with me."

you met his eyes and were met with matching concerned seas of blue, a tinge of worry in them. you started to shake your head at first, then stopped. there was always something else to do, and you had to get it all done. needed to.

you really, really didn't, and leon also knew that, so he didn't argue. he just waited for you to realize, opened his arms, and stayed right where he was.

eventually you did, and the moment your forehead touched his chest you finally let go of everything for the first time in days. he wrapped his arms around you slowly to avoid startling you and rested his chin atop your head.

"see? that wasn't so hard. nobody needs you right now," he murmured.

his left hand moved up and down your back in a slow rhythm and the right threw a blanket over you both.

"I'm so tired."

even as it all rolled off of you, you didn't cry. being like how you were didn't always come with tears, but you were so tired it felt like your brain was a computer with too many apps loading and tasks open.

"I know, but you can rest now. you don't have to talk and explain yourself to me. well, unless you wanna," he said.

that was the thing about leon. after all he'd been through, he never said everything would all be okay or minimized things. he recognized them, treated them like the injuries they were, and fixed them.

"phone?" he asked.

you hesitated but then handed it over. he set it face down on the table and your shoulders dropped with it, a bit of weight lifting off of you.

it buzzed with a notification before he set it to silent.

"wait, I need t—"

"the world won't end if you don't answer anyone for a night. trust me, I'd know more than anyone." leon pressed a kiss to your temple.

your head tipped against his shoulder and you relaxed again, relishing in your peaceful and much needed defeat.

"I feel stupid. I didn't even do that much today and I'm wrecked." you whispered.

"yeah, but you've been doing so much other work for weeks. also, burnout doesn't care how productive you were, It's just what happens when you've been productive for too long without any breaks." leon turned his head, forehead touching yours.

your chest ached at that and you curled closer, fingers fisting into his shirt again. he adjusted so you were more comfortable and traced slow patterns along your arm.

minutes passed or maybe longer. the living room was completely quiet except for your bodies breathing and the sounds of the city outside.

"wanna do nothing or do you need a gentle distraction?"

you thought for a second.

"... nothing... but, nothing with you."

"right answer." leon said, the smile audible in his voice even though you couldn't see it.

he shifted so you were fully in his lap, your cheek against his chest. his hand slid into your hair after a while and scratched at your scalp.

your eyes fluttered closed, but leon stayed awake even as you started to drift. he kept holding you like it was the most natural thing in the world and you were exactly where you were meant to be.

and even though things felt too good to be true and you still felt like your work was trying to chase you into your dreams, for the first time in weeks it felt like you were.

[cxrrently]

this elizabeth taylor music video is absolutely one of the funniest things she's ever done. footage of an actress playing her most famous roles and getting hounded by the press... the ring clearly meant to invoke Taylor's used as the promo shot on IG... the boat in the bathtub that looks just like the one from Karma... not to mention the complete absence of Taylor herself. it's almost like she's trying to tell us that sometimes, living the showgirl's life requires the narrator to temporarily disappear from her own story.

i'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night. every bait and switch was a work of art. all my lovers are forever in their minds. you wouldn't know what i mean.

[lunarsyskids]

Little twin stars stimboard!

Sources:

⭐️⭐️⭐️/⭐️⭐️⭐️/⭐️⭐️⭐️

[merp-blerp]

Karlie Kloss after listening to Folklore, I guess:

[leonsmistress]

Wherever you go, I’ll follow.

Re9! Leon Kennedy x Trainee! Reader

Synopsis: A trainee with separation anxiety feels a need to be a hero, goes against their superiors wishes and decides that maybe this once… Leon might need help.

Themes: Usual RE themes, emphasis on gore and visualisations of B.O.Ws.

Word count: A lot…

Part 1 || Part 2 incoming

They’ve faded, those bruises from training. Once luminous purple and blue, now yellow. Their patterns litter across your body, in various places. Thighs, biceps, hips, chest. Every time you stood in front of that mirror, clad in whatever mismatch lingerie you could find, you were reminded of your hard work.

Bruises were a show of your hard work, but now… they’ve faded.

It had been a little over five months since you got scouted to work under the DSO. An organisation funded by the government to tackle Bio-terrorism threats across the U.S.

You had worked your way up through the police academy since you became of age, and just nearing your mid twenties when the DSO took a special interest in you. All because of a courageous act when coming face to face with a bioterrorism threat. It was minor, but the exception skill you portrayed led you to where you are now.

A trainee under one of their top agents, Leon Kennedy. He was a harsh teacher, who made sure you woke up early and finished most days late. Who accompanied you on minor outings, dealing with threats not above your skill level. It was clear you had much to learn, and Leon let you know everyone you trained.

“Higher.” His voice would ring out in the gymnasium, body circling around your poised potion like a vulture. Crows feet wrinkled at the corners of his eyes, a storm lighting those irises of his. Leon didn’t pander to you, didn’t express empathy every time you fell and struggled to get back up. He did not show compassion, believing that expressions of emotions got you no where in this line of field. Leon had learnt that early on.

It had been a few days since Leon was sent out on a mission, those who knew of his whereabouts were hush about it. And it only developed the gnawing anxiety within you.

Training under Leon, following him around like some lost lamb, it led to a strange sense of separation anxiety to your teacher. And you swore the pit in your stomach was worry for his safety, and not fear that he may never return.

You pulled your plain vest top over your head, arms slipped through the appropriate holes before tugging the rumpled fabric down along the curve of your waist. It’s high neck material was comfortable against your back, whilst the low cut against your chest allowed enough breathability when things got exhilarating. Low cut jeans hung comfortable against your hips, tight and snug to the roundness of your behind and muscular definition of your thighs.

The time was nearing 8 o’clock, another work day without your mentor and stuck on desk duty till he returns.

Walking through the open glass doors of the DSO building, your lanyard hangs between your fingers as the acrylic card swipes along the scanner. With ease you make your way through the guarded gates, and towards the elevator that’s about to close. A delicate, gloved hand shot out just as the metal doors were about to be sealed shut. They open back up, to reveal a familiar face. Sherry.

“Morning recruit.” She hummed, light and airy with a friendly smile across her face.

You step inside, expressing your gratitude. The silence that surrounds you both is calm, though your mind is anything but.

“Sherry…” You begun to talk, turning your attention to the smartly dressed woman. Her gloved hand was wrapped around her travel mug, steam billowing out from the small hole across the lid. “Yes?” She looked just to you, head turned and tilted with curiosity.

“Leon didn’t tell me where he was going… do you know?” Of course she knew, the pair were inseparable when it came to missions. She was some sort of telecommunications angel, even when you were sent on smaller missions with Leon.

Though Sherry cleared her throat, remembering the strict words Leon had spoken to her. That you was not to know, with the gravity of the mission and its dangerous situation.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” She replied, lips pursed together as she replicated a sympathetic look towards you.

Silence befell the air again, this time the elevator came to its first stop. Sherry took this as her leave, bidding a soft goodbye and turning down the corridor.

And yet as you stand there, watching the gap grow smaller as the doors close, your mind is made up. That just this once, you would disobey your superiors.

The laces of your converse stayed tied to the fabric, tight around your ankles from where the lace and stretched overtime. Your shoes thud along the carpeted flooring, though you don’t turn left along the hallway to reach your desk- no. Instead you carry on forward, this time pushing open a heavy fire door to reach the stairwell that runs the length of the building. Sherry’s floor was just a few below yours, cemented steps hard and loud as you race down each one.

Every second was precious, and every minute you spent thinking on if this was the right thing to do was now wasted.

You were quiet when you pushed open the fire door to the telecommunications office, seeing glass panels separating the space where numerous agents sat against big screens. You knew that Sherrys was a separate, smaller office where she worked alone. The work she was involved in was dangerous and often not for everyone eye.

As you traced your path down towards her office, you could see the short haired woman stood talking to an agent in the staff room. Small glass windows against the door giving you a clear look in, which meant now was the time to strike.

Her office was not hard to find, considering it was just at the end of the hallway to the right. Numerous computers were hung from the desk upwards, against the wall where each one displayed separate information.

A screen stood atop the wooden desk displayed a traceable position, blue dot visible and flashing as it appears to move down a path. There’s a location to the corner, where letters blur together and form ‘RHODES HILL CHRONIC CARE CENTRE’.

Images of a garish man reside on a separate screen, whose appearance seems affected by some sort of T-Virus likely. Or worse…

Though there was no time to stare at the stranger, for Leon’s coordinates were nearing the location and yourself knew it would take a while to reach him.

Rain pattered dramatically against the windshield of your car, engine rumbling across the uneven road that grew worse the closer you came to the centre. The storm outside made the clouds appear dark, grey and gloomy.

You slowed your car down, just before the ivory gates of the centre. In the distance, just across the gravel drive and aged fountain, you could see Leon’s Porsche.

The time had already gotten lost along the journey, that anxiety within you gnawing at your stomach and deepening the pit within your abdomen. You stepped from your car, stepping around the vehicle before opening the boot. Your hands tugged over your satchel, before grasping the shot gun tucked beneath a blanket and slinging it over your back. The hunting knife that rested beside it was now strapped around your thigh, all measures just in case this got messy.

You knew you was ready to face whatever was beyond those doors to rescue your mentor… but now as you stood just at the double oak doors, you were beginning to second guess yourself.

“Here goes nothing…” You muttered, pushing the brass handle and stepping forth into the darkness.

An eery atmosphere shrouded the facility, a split stairwell leading to an upper floor and a chandelier that hung high with low lighting. As you step forward, further along the tiled flooring, the sight of dried blood stops you. Only a few droplets, dark and congealed in colour. You swallow the lump in your throat, and walk up the stairwell to the second floor.

The shotgun on your back sides down your arm, gripped between your hands as you load a shot carefully inside.

“Leon?”

Just as you turn and come into view with the sight of a barred hallway, a looming shadow shrouds your figure and there’s little time to react. For a blow to the head sufficiently knocks you unconscious, and leaves you falling into the arms of the attacker.

[andreafolklore]

So I just noticed I'm sure this has been pointed out on x or Tumblr or somewhere but she is dancing while the pap are photographing her the confetti that comes down is 🩷🧡🤍 colors not my pic