ellievsbear
oozey mess
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
No title available
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
★
YOU ARE THE REASON
titsay
d e v o n
Andulka
will byers stan first human second
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cherry valley forever
KIROKAZE
Mike Driver
trying on a metaphor
Kaledo Art
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Game of Thrones Daily
Misplaced Lens Cap
seen from Singapore
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from T1
seen from China
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Singapore
seen from T1
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@tmwcs
Baby I NEED to read HHP again but I can't find it any where and trust me I tried everything. Chrome browser everything. Please help me. Life has been hard and I NEED Ethan.
Tumblr really doesn’t love me. 🤦🏻♀️
Also, heads up, you’ll need to replace “Rinbowaman” with “tmwcs” in the link.
H I S A N D H E R P E R S P E C T I V E S ( H H P ) Includes… Sequel to MRE HeeseungxReader Heethan is still obsessed with reader Timelin
I HOPE YOUR READY FOR A LOT OF YOUR VAMPIRE GIRL BECAUSE IM ABOUT TO TALK A LOT ABOUT MY HUSBAND
The sovereign mistress has arrived! Lol.
This seems like something heethan would say
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTkdhbYfj/
10000000% lol
How has my incredibly dashing husband heelel been
Ah—Lucifer himself. 😏 Actually, I’ve been working on a special project for the Se7en story.
Keep your fingers crossed for me. 🤞🏻
REINA I MISS YOUJ
I miss you too! 😍
OML the Resident Evil fanfic is so good. Too good. Holy shit. 😵
Oh shucks—you better stop or it’s going to go straight to my head. ♥️
I’M ALIVE, Hru Reina long time no see
Oh my goodness if it isn’t the one and only vampire princess! How are you? Things have been well! I hope everything is good on your end?
Hi guys!
A lot of you had asked me for updates on the RE fanfic. New chapters are posted on ao3. I’ll do my best to try and upload them here as I work on some other projects , but for now, I’m actively posting the RE fanfic on ao3 for anyone who wants to continue reading. Thank you for all the follows and kudos and the love—I’m so thankful you guys are enjoying the stories I draft. ♥️
Ao3: Pscyhe444
I really love all your fics, but CHATGPT AHHHHHH
It just scratches my brain in all the right places,really looking forward to it
Also fuck belift
And#bringheeseungback
I am going to finish ChatGPT for you guys. I’ve been getting a lot of asks about that. I’ll bump it up on my list for you all.
Chapter Four: Inner Conflict
Warnings: Semi-heavy dubcon with some tension. Open page intimacy. Emotionally explicit.
AN: This pics up right where chapter three left off. A continuation of the flashback where female OC encounters a side of Leon no one else knows about. The flashbacks are set during RE4 (remake). Enjoy.
“Let go—”
The words left me strained as I twisted against his grip, trying to wrench my wrist free. Instead, his hand tightened—unyielding, crushing, as if the pressure alone could crack my bones.
A small, helpless whimper broke from my throat when I tried again, only to feel my balance failing me. In the same breath, he pulled me back against him, caging me in as his body closed around mine from behind. His height swallowed me entirely, his shoulders broad enough to block out everything else, leaving me trapped within the heat of him.
The moment his leather glove slid across my skin, palming over my hips before dragging slowly along my thigh, I sucked in a breath and cursed his name under it.
“Take that back.” His voice came out low and commanding, but there was tension beneath it—breathlessness that didn’t belong to control.
Something in him had already slipped.
What had once been a man grounded in restraint now stood sharpened into something else completely. His focus burned through me, pupils shrinking as if trying to suppress something that was already unraveling. His lips parted with uneven breaths, the composure I had always known in him cracking at the edges.
He licked his lips, almost absentmindedly, before lowering his head.
The first touch of his nose against my neck was cold.
But it didn’t stay that way.
Warmth followed instantly as he pressed harder, nuzzling into the curve of my throat, inhaling me in a way that felt forlonged. His mouth followed, coating my skin with a hot breath, then closing. His tongue drew along my skin as if he needed to feel something real beneath his control.
“Stop!” I gasped, the word breaking apart as something weaker slipped through it. My body failed me in the same breath, reacting to his touch despite the resistance locked in my chest as his arm tightened around my waist.
There was no space left between us.
“I can’t…” he exhaled, his voice remained steady despite his words coming out choked.
His lips pulled away—only briefly.
A mark began to bloom where he had touched me, the faint imprint of teeth pressing into my skin. For a moment, something softer followed it, his mouth returning to the same place, his tongue brushing lightly over the bite before his lips pressed there again, sealing it in a way that felt far too tender for what this was supposed to be.
I stopped breathing for a second.
When his hand slipped beneath the edge of my blouse, everything in me tensed up.
The contrast of leather and bare skin dragged upward slowly, already knowing the path, his fingers grazing higher—too close.
“Leon—! Don’t!”
This time my words came out as a plea, my voice screeching as my eyes stung with something sharper than fear—something closer to betrayal.
All the times I had helped him, guided him, watched him from the shadows without asking for anything in return… I had believed in what he stood for. In the man who fought for others, who carried the weight of the world with a quiet kind of strength.
That man had been gentle.
Composed and measured.
Safe.
But the one holding me now—
Was something else entirely.
Primal.
Driven.
“Stop—this isn’t you, Leon.”
The words broke as a tear slipped free, tracing slowly down to my chin.
He stopped.
Not completely—but enough.
His hand paused where it was, his body still pressed against mine, his breath shifting as if something inside him had awakened.
His nose dragged upward along my neck until it rested just beneath my ear.
“I know.”
His admission came too easily.
Too quietly.
As if he had already accepted it.
“I tried to stop it…” he murmured, his voice lower than ever, steadier in a way that made it worse. “I told myself I hadn’t changed. That I could keep it under control.”
His grip squeezed harder—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me I wasn’t going anywhere.
“But the truth is, Irina…”
His jaw clenched as he swallowed.
“You changed me.”
The words landed heavier than anything he had said or done.
I felt it in the way his teeth pressed briefly against my skin, the knot in him tightening, not loosening.
“You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
There was no hesitation in the way he spoke.
No softness.
That made it worse.
As I shifted against him, trying again to break free, he pulled me tighter. I could feel the hard rhythm of his heartbeat through his chest, strong, controlled—too controlled for the way he was holding me.
“Stop moving…”
Something in me snapped at the way he said that.
“You’re crazy—let me go—” I began to panic.
“I said stop.”
His voice dropped.
Lower this time.
The words grazed against my skin as his lips moved along the curve of my neck, softer, but no less dangerous. The sensation sent a sparkling tingle through me, one I didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone understand.
“I don’t want to be a monster, Irina…”
He lifted his head just enough to press a slow, sickening kiss against the edge of my ear, the contact enough to break me alone.
It was too gentle.
“So don’t make me into one.”
His breath remained on that spot, warm, calculating, restrained by something that was slipping further with every second.
“Let me take care of you…”
His hand tightened at my waist, holding me still.
“Let me keep you.”
His body pulsed against mine as he spoke, each subtle movement sending a ripple through me that I couldn’t quite contain. At first, I fought it—every instinct in my mind still clawing for distance, to regain control—but the longer he held me there, the more that resistance began to fracture. Not all at once, not completely, but enough for something else to slip through.
Something warmer. Something far more dangerous.
When his hands settled at my hips, fingers spreading and pressing with deliberate weight, I felt the shift begin. It was in the way my breath paused, in the way my body reacted before I could stop it, in the way his touch poisoned me from the outside. His fingers dug into me just long enough to make me aware of it. Every drag of his lips, every slow pull of pressure, blurred the line I had been trying so desperately to hold.
And when his mouth stayed on me longer, it created something inside me. The word “stop” no longer existed on my tongue.
The painful numbness that followed was immediate.
Low and fierce.
Spreading deeper into my veins, fueling me to go against my better judgement.
It curled through me, settling between my thighs and igniting something that felt less like want and more like need. My body wouldn’t listen to me. Instead, it quietly parted ways from my rational thought and shifted its own weight. A shallow inhale escapes me—but it didn’t stop there.
It didn’t want to.
His hips moved again, slower this time, testing and pressing into me with a controlled rhythm that wasn’t rushed or barbaric. It was intentional. Crafty. And when his hand lifted up, gripping at my neck for leverage, the movement deepened—subtle rotations, faint circles that built pressure until I begged him to break me.
It was overwhelming.
It was consuming.
And when I felt it—really felt it—I couldn’t move.
I no longer could resist.
A shivered exhale left me. It was surrender to something I could no longer deny. My fingers twitched against his arm, tracing without meaning to, following the tension in his forearm, the flex of muscle beneath skin that was warm—too warm.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
His breathing shifted. It became heavier and less controlled as my body responded—not away from him, but into him. And when I pressed back, just barely, testing the same boundary he had been walking, something in him snapped.
Restraint.
The first roll of my hips wasn’t to tease—but the second was.
I moved slower. I pushed.
He pushed back harder.
And that was all it took.
The sound that left him was low.
Too low.
His forehead dipped slightly as his grip adjusted, pulling me in with a kind of pressure that felt like it was holding back far more than it showed. His movements didn’t stop. If anything, they grew more vicious, responding to mine and eventually overriding them.
That was the difference.
He wasn’t chasing anymore.
He was taking.
My hand reached back without thinking, fingers catching the hem of his shirt, tugging—not to stop him, but to hold onto for stability. Something solid.
The breaking point was immediate.
His weight dropped as he leaned forward, not sudden, but decisive, pushing me toward the edge of the table. The wood met my skin with a cool contrast that made my inhales short and sharp. My body reacted in ways I couldn’t control—couldn’t suppress. His hands traced my skin—never leaving, never hesitating. He moved with a precision that felt practiced, but not detached. As if he dreamt of this moment.
Everything he did, he felt.
I could tell.
The slow slide of fabric sliding down my legs. The careful lift of my halter, rolled up and resting along my collar bone, revealing every part of me. The way his touch never broke contact—it was insufferable in a way that conflicted me. One minute I wanted to hate him. Next, I wanted all of him. It wasn’t denial. It was two shades of a feeling that made every second stretch, every movement settle deeper than the last.
I couldn’t stop him. I was still too weak. Still healing.
Yet even if I could, I would have let him keep going.
That is what I hated most.
He drew this out of me. He made me feel it. He made me want it.
That realization hit harder than anything else.
The table felt cool beneath me as my body leaned into it. My cheek brushed against the surface as my breath slowed, and then fell apart all over again when his presence closed in behind me. His palms rested flat against the table on both sides, trapping me. His chest met my back in a slow descent of weight that forced every inch of space to close .
I remembered this feeling.
Not exactly—but enough.
The way he held back.
The way he didn’t.
His hips moved again, slower at first, testing the rhythm we had already fallen into, building it instead of breaking it. A steady pressure. A controlled grind that pressed into my bare skin with just enough force to draw a response before demanding it.
My breath stuttered, my fingernails curled against the wood as I moved again. The motion rolled through me, a wave I couldn’t stop even if I tried, and the sound that slipped from my lips wasn’t resistance anymore.
It was something else.
Something softer.
Something yearning.
That was when he lost it.
Not completely—but enough.
The restraint cracked.
His hips snapped forward, hard and sharp. The rhythm broke into something more urgent and driven. The impact jolted through me, stealing the air from my lungs. I was left with no choice but to stay there—feeling it, letting it settle, letting it build.
Again.
And again.
Each movement carried weight, not just physical, but something deeper—something that had been building long before this moment ever began.
“L-Leon—!”
His name left me breathless, not as a warning—but as something far more fragile.
He didn’t answer.
He never did—not with words, not when his body could say it better.
And when he felt the change in me, the way my resistance had thinned into something softer, something far more submissive, he didn’t hesitate. He leaned into it. Took it further.
His hand came down against the side of my thigh— harsh at first, but not careless or demeaning. It was enough to make my skin sting and my breath yelp. The contact lingered for only a second before it transitioned, when his palm dragged upward with antagonizing slowness, tracing the curve of my body as if he was seeing I was all that he had imagined.
I was.
His hand moved over my hip, across the small of my back, and firmly settled. I felt as his palm pushed down, squeezing a soft whimper from my lips.
Claiming me.
But even that wasn’t enough for him. He had to see more of my weakness.
His fingers moved again, slower this time, almost thoughtful as they traveled up my spine. Each tip-tap of his fingers felt like a warning. The roughness of his callouses sent a quiet shiver within me, as if every inch he traced was being marked. Not visibly, but somewhere deeper inside where parts were not meant to be touched.
By the time he reached the back of my neck, I was already falling apart.
His fingers curled around, palm glued to the back of my neck, squeezing. Not enough to hurt—but enough to remind me he was there. That I was there. That this was really happening.
The strands of my hair were tangled between his fingers as he held me in place, and then—
Everything slowed.
Nothing stopped.
Just slowed down for a brief moment.
The rhythm that had been building between us transformed into something heavier, more harsh. His hips moved with a dangerous kind of restraint, pressing in and drawing back with a pace that stretched every second, every breath, into something unbearable.
Pushing me forward.
Pulling me back.
Again.
And again.
Each movement lingered longer than the last, dragging sensation through me instead of striking it, forcing me to feel every inch of it instead of escaping from it.
It was too much.
Yet not enough.
“P-please…”
The word slipped out before I could stop it, breaking apart in my throat. I knew what I was asking for—I felt it in the way my body reacted, in the way everything in me leaned into him instead of away—but I didn’t know how to say it. Not fully. Not without giving something up I hadn’t meant to.
So it came out like that.
Soft.
Honest.
By mistake.
The numbness inside me deepened, spreading and tightening all at once, pulsing in a way that made my breath stutter and my body weaken beneath it. It wasn’t pain—not exactly—but it carried the same intensity. The same urgency. A need that didn’t wait for permission, punching me into submission.
If the table hadn’t been there, I would have fallen.
I knew that.
Because I was already losing myself.
His body moved against mine again, slower, as if he was testing how far I’d go—how much I would give without being asked. And when I didn’t pull away, when I didn’t fight him this time, something in him shifted.
I felt it.
The change in his breathing.
The way his grip steadied.
The way he leaned closer—not to trap me, but to close the distance I had already surrendered.
I needed more.
That realization came without hesitation this time.
Without fear.
My hands moved behind me, fingers tucking into the fabric of his shirt, gripping it with a desperation I never intended for him to see. I pulled—harder than I meant to—seeking something to cure the storm building inside me.
He answered immediately.
His head dipped low, his nose pressing into my hair as he inhaled deeply, like he was able to taste the scent of me, like it was something he needed just as badly.
The sound that followed—a low, primal growl—sent a sharp tremor through me.
I had never heard him like that.
Not once.
And something inside me responded to it.
“Tell me you need me—” His voice was rough, vibrating against me in a way that made my breath shorten all over again. “Let me hear it.”
My chest pressed harder into the table as I inhaled, my breath unsteady, uneven, caught somewhere between hesitation and something far more reckless. Every part of me tensed up—not from fear, but from anticipation.
Because I knew.
If I said it—
If I gave him that—
It would be too easy.
So, for a moment… I didn’t answer.
Not because I didn’t want to.
But because I wanted to see what he would do if I made him wait.
The silence did the work.
It was charged with something that felt like it could snap at any second.
And it did—
The result was… unexpected.
Chapter Three: Cravings
The infected fell almost instantly.
Within seconds the bodies collapsed around me, their destruction forming a near perfect circle across the polished floor. My beauties had always been efficient, but when unleashed together they became something far more terrifying than simple insects. They were fast, coordinated, and utterly merciless when hunting as one.
The final fragments of the swarm spiraled back to the center in a slow halo of emerald wings. One by one the moths pieced my skin until the last delicate shape pressed against my shoulder and vanished, completing my body once more. When the transformation finished, I stood at the center of the carnage as though I had never scattered at all.
“Nicely done.”
Leon’s voice drifted through the foyer, rugged but smooth in delivery. I glanced at him, though it was difficult to tell whether he had smiled. If he had, the expression had been brief enough to disappear almost immediately.
“I try my best,” I replied, letting a hint of dry sarcasm soften the words.
Leon wasted no time.
His hand closed around mine and he led me toward the stairwell at the far end of the hall.
_____________________________________________
The deeper we moved into the care center, the more the building began to resemble a labyrinth.
Every corridor looked almost identical to the last, repeating the same walls and ornate French panels in a pattern that blurred together the longer we walked. The doors were spaced evenly along the halls, each one painted the same color and fitted with identical brass handles. Even the lighting created an unsettling illusion, reflecting softly across the floors so that the corridors appeared longer and emptier than they truly were.
Suddenly, a woman’s voice pierces through the walls. Her screams were panicking.
“Someone’s in trouble—”
Leon reacted instantly.
His hand rose and pressed firmly against my chest, guiding me back against the wall as he stepped beside me. The motion wasn’t aggressive, but it pinned me just enough to keep me from stepping into the open corridor.
His other hand had moved to his weapon.
Something was out there.
A low, distorted growl crawled through the hallway, breaking occasionally between the frightened breaths of the woman trapped somewhere beyond the metal gate.
Leon stepped forward into the corridor.
Three quick shots rang out, each one echoing sharply against the walls.
“Over here!”
At the far end of the hall, a young woman scrambled beneath the metal gate and rushed toward me. Her movements were frantic and uneven as she slid across the floor and finally caught her breath, struggling to regain composure.
I hurried toward her and wrapped my arms gently around her shoulders, steadying her.
She flinched the moment my hands touched her, but when she saw the smile on my face the tension in her posture softened just a tad bit.
“It’s alright,” I whispered.
Leon approached more cautiously.
“Leon Kennedy. DSO.”
The girl jolted again at the introduction.
Leon stopped several feet away, deliberately giving her space.
“G-Grace… A-A-Ashcroft,” she stammered. “FBI.”
Leon raised a brow.
“FBI?”
Grace began explaining how she had ended up inside the care center, her voice still trembling with adrenaline as she stuttered the words.
But before she could finish—
The sound of heavy metal crashing echoed through the hall.
The security gates slammed down between us.
I spun around immediately and grabbed the bars separating Leon from Grace and me, pulling hard against them in hopes that the mechanism might loosen.
It didn’t.
Leon turned his pistol in his hand.
The Requiem.
For a moment I hesitated before taking it when he passed it through the bars.
“Get her out of here—both of you. Now!”
I glanced over my shoulder at Grace.
Then back at Leon.
He was already walking deeper into the corridor.
He had seen something.
For a brief moment instinct screamed at me to dissolve into my colony and slip through the bars. The space between them was more than enough for my swarm to pass.
But I couldn’t leave Grace. Not yet.
Leon had never been a man who needed rescuing, but the thought of him unarmed and alone unsettled me.
Quickly, I took Grace’s hand and led her away.
“Come on.”
_____________________________________________
We moved quickly through the opposite hallway overlooking the upper foyer. Once we reached a quieter stretch of corridor, I stopped and handed Grace Leon’s pistol.
“Take it.”
Her eyes widened immediately.
“W-what about you?”
I curled her fingers around the pistol grip.
“I’ll be fine. Trust me—you need this more than I do.”
Grace swallowed nervously but nodded.
I guided her farther down the hall until we reached a small office room tucked away from the central corridors. The moment we stepped inside, the sterile scent of disinfectant and artificial air freshener hit us immediately.
I shut the door behind us and turned her to face me.
“I need you to listen—”
A low groan interrupted me.
I turned toward the window and leaned closer to the glass.
Movement stirred beyond the trees and bushes.
Bodies. All bloodied and rotting from the inside and out. Black veins spider-webbing their cold skin.
Dozens of them.
They dragged themselves through the foliage and tangled branches surrounding the building, their limbs scraping against the bushes while their mouths hung open in slow, hungry breaths. Some of them whispered broken fragments of words as they moved.
Something inside the care center was drawing them here.
“They’re coming…”
Grace’s panic returned instantly. Her fingers tightened around the trigger guard.
“Go back down to the first level,” I told her quickly. “Find a way outside on the opposite side.”
I moved toward the door.
“W-where are you going?”
My hand wrapped around the knob as I glanced back over my shoulder.
“I have to find Leon.”
And before she could argue, I stepped into the hall.
_____________________________________________
The corridors blurred around me.
Sometimes I ran.
Sometimes my body shattered into fragments of emerald wings that swept through the halls like a living storm. Every infected creature that stumbled into my path collapsed almost instantly beneath the blades of my swarm.
I moved fiercely, doing my best to clear a path for Grace but also, to halt the chase. Because they could still see me.
And worse—
They could smell me.
The faint trace of blood that had dried along my skin lingered in the air, and the infected reacted to it with a disturbing awareness.
I reached the security gate again without slowing.
Mid-leap my body scattered into thousands of moths that streamed effortlessly through the narrow gaps between the bars before reforming on the other side.
When I landed, the corridor beyond was silent.
Too silent.
I moved quickly, shredding through the infected that lurked in the shadows.
Then I stopped.
The hallway ended abruptly.
A dead end.
I frantically looked around, fingers smoothing over the panels for a secret compartment or latch. Anything.
And that was when I noticed the painting.
Mounted against the pale blue wall hung a large portrait depicting a pack of wolves gathered in a half circle beneath a towering bell tower. Each wolf stood frozen mid-howl, their heads raised toward the sky.
“This painting…”
Something about it struck me immediately.
The image tugged at a memory so vivid it nearly caused my heart to stop beating. The same one I had become lost in during the car ride here.
Leon’s voice echoed through my mind again.
His younger voice. Same tone, but slightly different in pitch.
It doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try.
And he had tried.
He had chased me that night.
And eventually—
He caught me.
_____________________________________________
Hours had passed since my wound had healed, yet Leon’s words continued replaying inside my mind.
I still couldn’t understand it.
Every time I had seen him with the woman in red—Ada—his expression softened in a way that seemed almost impossible to break. There had always been something unspoken between them.
So why had my presence unsettled him so deeply?
The building I entered that night had been empty.
I knew it the moment I stepped inside.
My body was still too weak to move with the speed I normally possessed, and my colony remained sluggish whenever I attempted to disperse. The cold air had drained more strength from me than I expected. My wound, though healed, left me vulnerable.
I needed warmth.
Cold and insects had never been paired well together, and for my beauties winter was the one enemy they could never fight.
The soft crackling of burning wood drifted down the hallway.
I followed the sound until I reached the room where the fire burned.
Warm air brushed gently across my skin the moment I stepped inside.
Relief spread through my body as the familiar tingling sensation returned to my veins. My beauties stirred faintly beneath my skin, still dormant but slowly healing.
I lowered myself into a chair beside the table and rested my head against the smooth oak surface.
The bed stood nearby, but I avoided it.
Lying down would have guaranteed sleep.
But as I would soon learn, the table wasn’t much safer.
Strands of my hair spread across the wood as exhaustion slowly overtook me.
Within minutes—
Sleep took over.
_____________________________________________
When consciousness finally returned, something felt wrong.
The fire that had once warmed the room had burned out completely, leaving only dull gray ash in the hearth. The window beside the table had been opened, allowing the night air to spill inside and fill the room with biting cold.
The chill seeped through my skin immediately.
It crept into my muscles and froze the fragile warmth my body had gathered earlier. The flutter of my colony within my veins had gone quiet.
I tried to move.
I couldn’t.
Ever since I had become what I was, cold air had always weakened me.
And someone knew it.
“You’re awake.”
My head lifted sharply.
Moonlight spilled through the open window.
Leon sat across the table.
He had positioned himself nearby, close enough to reach me but far enough away that he could watch every movement I made. One elbow rested casually against the tabletop while his hand stroked the smoothness along his jaw.
His posture looked relaxed. Legs spread with his gun strapped firmly to his thigh.
And I already knew.
Leon never placed himself in a room without calculating every angle first.
His navy t-shirt clung tightly to his frame, outlining the hard lines of muscle beneath it. Veins traced along his forearms and disappeared beneath his sleeves, pulsing faintly with each subtle flex.
I could see them clearly.
The steady rhythm of blood beneath his skin.
“What are you doing?” I asked quietly.
My question was honest. I was startled.
And weak.
Leon’s eyes lifted slowly and met mine.
“I found a moth,” he said after a pause. “The prettiest one I’ve ever seen.”
His gaze suddenly sharpened into a glare.
“And I’m here to catch it.”
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
I stood quickly, intending to escape.
But Leon moved faster.
His hands closed around my wrists, the leather of his fingerless gloves felt cold against my skin as his grip tightened.
The strength behind it wasn’t desperate or careless.
It was intentional and strategic.
He wasn’t starving.
He was craving.
And in that moment I understood something terrifying.
Leon didn’t want just anything.
He wanted me.
He had chased me.
He had caught me.
And as I would learn that night, hatred and love had a dangerous way of co-existing in the same breath.
omg omg omg omg the resident evil fanfic is so good!!!! I love it! Will we also get more chapters on the Lucifer fic? That was always my favorite and I really really love envy and am hoping you might do a story for him? All the princes of hell? And how many chapters will the resident evil fic have?
I’m so glad you’re enjoying the RE story. I figured it would be a nice surprise to commemorate the release and success of Requiem.
And for the Se7en story, I’m actually doing something a little bit special with that piece. I can see myself writing more stories on the Seven Princes of Hell but it really depends on a a few things. Nonetheless, the main story itself is being worked on for a special project. ♥️
Chapter Two: Hysteria
Previous Chapter
“What are you doing here?”
Leon’s brows remained arched as he tilted his head slightly back, exposing the dark mark staining the skin along his neck. The movement made his Adam’s apple shift beneath the thin sheen of sweat glazing his throat, and for a moment my eyes lingered there longer than they should have.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied.
“You can never answer a question, can you?”
His voice lowered as he spoke, his eyelids drooping just enough to create that familiar smoldering expression. It was the same look he used years ago whenever he wanted to press someone for the truth. The sight of it made my breath halt briefly in my chest while my heartbeat quickened against my will.
“I was on my way home when I saw the commotion.”
Leon turned slightly away from me, glancing down the street before slowly facing me again. His lips parted as he inhaled, and the motion revealed small specks of blood scattered along the scruff of his chin.
Something was wrong.
I could feel it before he even spoke again.
Leon had always been a man of few words, but this silence felt different. It wasn’t natural restraint. It felt forced, as if something inside him was pressing against the limits of his control.
My eyes returned to the mark on his neck.
It stretched darker under shifting light, spreading slowly upward toward his jaw.
“What’s happened to you?”
The concern in my voice slipped out before I could stop it. I hadn’t intended for it to sound so soft, yet my body had a habit of betraying my intentions whenever Leon stood this close. Every small movement—my posture, my tone, even the way my hands rested at my sides—leaned toward tenderness.
“An infection. Not sure what kind.”
He twirled the hatchet once in his hand before stepping closer, the motion controlled and crafty.
“But I’m going to find out.”
For a moment, another memory stirred somewhere inside me. I couldn’t tell if it was the way he looked at me or the way his eyes lingered on mine just a little too long, but something about that gaze awakened a familiar recognition.
That part of Leon had never faded.
No matter how much time passed or how much the world tried to wear him down, there was still a piece of him that remained unchanged.
My attention shifted when I noticed his eyes drifting downward.
First my collarbone.
Then lower.
For a brief moment, the silence between us grew dangerously close to breaking something I wasn’t ready to face.
But Leon spoke before it could reach that point—the point where memories might begin speaking louder than rationality.
“Found leads on a man tied to Umbrella. Victor Gideon. You heard of him?”
I shook my head slowly.
“Victor Gideon? It doesn’t ring a bell.”
“He’s up to no good,” Leon continued, his voice tightening slightly. “He’s the one that caused this mess to happen. I’m going to figure out what he’s planning.”
I lowered my gaze toward the pavement, watching the alternating reflections of red and blue lights ripple across a small puddle beside one of the corpses.
“Will you let me come with you?”
The hope in my voice surprised even me.
It wasn’t only because of the past between us—although temptation was already knocking quietly at that door. What truly stirred my interest was the information he had just given.
Victor Gideon.
Umbrella.
A name and an organization tied together with a possibility.
Possibility meant opportunity.
And opportunity meant answers. A solution.
Perhaps even something that could cure the curse I had been carrying for far too long—if a cure existed at all.
Leon simply stared at me for a moment before a crooked smirk appeared on his face.
“Yeah,” he said slowly.
His voice dragged out the single word in a deep, slow tone that felt heavier than I remembered. The years had changed him, carving new edges into the man standing before me, yet fragments of the Leon I once knew still lingered beneath the surface.
_____________________________________________
The engine ignition broke the silence inside the car.
The sound immediately triggered a memory.
Danger had a way of exposing weakness, and that moment pulled me back to a time when I had been far more vulnerable than I cared to admit. I tried not to think about it, but my mind refused to let it go.
Maybe it was the way his hand gripped the steering wheel. His leather glove tightened around the frame, the material creasing as his fingers flexed. The fingerless cutouts exposed his knuckles and fingertips, rough and worn in appearance yet moving with the same smooth control he displayed in combat.
He turned the wheel with effortless precision, guiding the Porsche through the curve of the road with only the slightest movement of his arm. The muscles in his forearm shifted beneath his sleeve each time he adjusted the vehicle’s path.
The same natural ease he showed when handling the car had always been present in other moments too.
Moments where he handled me.
Every inch of my body.
Even parts of my soul.
I still remember.
I was young.
He was younger.
It wasn’t the first time we had crossed paths, but it was the first moment when he truly saw me—when he recognized what I was and what I could become.
He saw my power.
My potential.
And in him, I saw a man who was desperately searching for compassion from the right kind of woman.
Betrayal and caution had hardened him over the years, but those experiences had also taught him how to recognize truth when he encountered it, even when that truth was difficult to face.
I understood that kind of truth well.
For me, it meant losing everything that once made me normal. Somewhere along the way I had become something others might call a goddess, though the reality felt far less divine. Instead of freedom, I had been trapped in a world that grew darker and more dangerous with every passing decade.
And unlike everyone else, I was forced to watch it all unfold without ever aging alongside it. Never gaining the blessing of falling asleep and escaping the nightmare.
Time never touched me.
Wounds never changed me.
For Leon, the truth had been different.
He had been forced to let go of a woman he once cared deeply for. Perhaps she had cared for him as well, but hidden motives and dangerous loyalties had shattered whatever love might have existed between them.
Still, the respect remained.
I never met her. And I only heard him speak her name once.
But the image that lingered in my mind will never be forgotten.
The woman in red. Hair black and slick.
From time to time I had witnessed their encounters from a distance, remaining hidden and unheard in the shadows where I had grown comfortable living.
I never intended for Leon to notice me.
I didn’t want him to.
At first I had only watched him during moments when he struggled to survive, and each time I found myself stepping in just enough to keep him alive. After all, what kind of person would I be if I allowed a man to die when I had the power to intervene?
Yet when he finally discovered what I was capable of—when he saw the things I had done to help him without revealing myself—he interpreted those actions as something more than they were.
To him, it meant something personal.
To me, it had only been a gesture.
One human helping another.
Or at least… a former human, in my case.
_____________________________________________
“That looks bad. Here—”
“I don’t need your help,” I replied in a near whisper, the words snapping from my lips as I pulled my knees closer to my chest. My boots scraped against the wooden floorboards while I tried to shift away from him.
“Come on, don’t be like that.”
“I said I’m fine,” I insisted, still keeping my voice low—at least for the moment.
“Stop…” I muttered when he pressed a piece of gauze against my shoulder. Blood seeped through the fabric almost instantly, darkening the cloth the second he applied pressure.
“I said stop!”
My voice sharpened as I slapped his hand away.
Leon exhaled slowly through his nose and simply stared at me. His expression hardened, stern but restrained, as his hands fell against his thighs while he remained kneeling in front of me.
I hated feeling vulnerable.
But that still didn’t excuse my behavior.
Instead of apologizing, I showed him.
Slowly, I loosened the grip on my arm and allowed the wound to remain exposed. His eyes widened slightly—just enough for me to notice—as the torn flesh began knitting itself back together. The blood stopped flowing, the skin sealing over until nothing remained but a faint smear of ash and a dark red stain where the injury had once been.
“See?”
My voice softened as my eyes dropped to the floor.
“I’m fine. Now move.”
I stood upright, though the motion made my body sway slightly. I steadied myself against the wall while regaining my balance.
Dust coated my boots. The black velvet rested just above my kneecaps, while the denim of my shorts had been torn and frayed along the edges. My halter top was stained with blood—some of it still wet, the rest dried and stiff against the thin leather straps that crossed in front, uniting around my neck in a choker strap.
“Look, you need to relax,” Leon said calmly. “It might be too soon for you to move.”
His tone carried genuine concern.
So did mine.
“I told you… I don’t need your help.”
That was the moment something in him snapped.
He didn’t shout. He didn’t explode.
His lips remained tightly closed, and his posture didn’t change.
But his grip told the entire story.
The sudden pressure around my wrist made me look up immediately. Leon’s pupils had shrunk, his eyes widening just enough to show the frustration boiling beneath his composure. The veins along his forearms flexed as his muscles tensed, strands of blond hair falling across his brow while his gaze narrowed.
His skin felt warm.
But his expression looked cold.
I tried to pull my hand free, but I was still too weak to dissolve into the swarm that usually allowed me to escape. My body refused to scatter into the colony that carried me through the air.
“Let go, Leon.”
My voice remained firm, though the tremor in my breath exposed the subtle bit of fear within me.
He exhaled again, more sharply this time.
For a moment I couldn’t understand why he continued holding on as long as he did. But when his grip finally loosened, I quickly jerked my hand back.
Leon turned slightly, glancing over his shoulder.
“What is it that you want, Irina?” he asked quietly.
The president’s daughter remained asleep in the adjacent room, the thin wall between us doing little to mask the tension filling the space.
“That’s none of your business,” I replied coldly. “What is it that YOU want, Leon?”
The words came out sharp and tired as I leaned closer while speaking, my frustration pressing against him with every syllable.
I tried to walk past him.
Naturally, he stopped me.
“You wanna know what I want, Irina?”
His hand caught my arm and spun me around so quickly that the sudden motion threw me off balance. His voice came out fast, edged with antagonizing tension that he had clearly been holding back.
“I don’t care,” I whispered, glaring up at him.
“Yeah? Well I think you do.”
His fingers tightened again.
Pain shot through my arm as his grip intensified, his fingerprints pressing into my skin while I hissed through clenched teeth.
“I knew what I had wanted,” he continued. “But then you showed up and now everything’s gone to shit.”
“And that’s my fault?” I shot back, my disbelief turning quickly into anger.
“That’s not—”
Leon stopped himself. His jaw clenched as his gaze shifted briefly to the side before returning to mine.
“That’s not what I meant.”
The words came out softer than I expected.
Softer than I liked.
It wasn’t just the tone—it was the way his expression remained firm while something gentler moved behind it. That subtle change made something inside me sink heavily, a strange numbness beginning in my stomach before spreading downward as my breathing slowed.
“After learning about Ada… I thought all I needed was time,” he said quietly. “Enough time to get over it and move past it. I figured if I waited long enough, maybe it wouldn’t bother me anymore whenever I saw her.”
I swallowed, nearly brushing his confession aside with a scoff.
But then he pulled me closer.
The movement was subtle.
Dangerously subtle.
And then he stepped even closer.
“I remember the first time I saw those damn moths,” he said. “I thought I was lucky.”
His grip tightened as he pulled me another inch toward him. I tried to plant my feet, but the strength in his hold made me stumble forward.
“But when I found out it was you…”
His Adam’s apple shifted as he swallowed, his eyes roaming across my face with an intensity that felt almost hungry. Even deadly.
“It’s always been you… not luck.”
Panic rushed through me as his voice dropped lower.
I tore my arm free and staggered back, still too weak to regain full control over my abilities.
But weakness wouldn’t stop me from running.
I bolted down the hallway.
Leon’s footsteps started behind me, but I knew he wouldn’t go far—not with Graham’s daughter still resting in the nearby room. He would chase just far enough to watch me disappear.
I slowed suddenly and glanced back at him.
“Leave me alone, Leon.”
The warning left my lips as I lifted my hand, allowing the colony to form around my fingers. Dozens of moths swirled through the air, though I still lacked the strength to unleash them fully.
My skin remained whole.
My body held its shape.
I could escape—but only barely.
“Once I’m completely better,” I said firmly, “you’ll never catch me. I promise you won’t.”
I turned to leave.
But Leon’s response followed me down the hall, low and quiet, laced with a darkness that sent a chill down my spine.
“It doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try.” His lids grew heavy as his arms remained crossed, fists clenching. “So, go ahead. Run. Fly. Disappear like always, Irina. Having a good head start isn’t going to do a damn thing for you.”
I stopped just long enough to glance back at him with a fierce glare before continuing forward into the shadows.
_____________________________________________
“We’re here.”
Leon’s voice pulled me back from the past.
My eyes had been fixed on the window the entire drive, watching the darkness glide past without even realizing we had already arrived. When I finally looked up, the building stood before us—pristine in appearance, yet carrying an eerie stillness that made my stomach churn.
“Rhodes Hill Care Center?” I asked.
“Yup.”
I unfastened my seatbelt as Leon stepped out of the car. A moment later he walked around the front and opened my door, extending his hand toward me.
The gesture wasn’t necessary, yet it didn’t surprise me. That old-fashioned sense of chivalry had always been part of who he was.
“I thought this place was closed,” I remarked as I stepped out, glancing across the surrounding grounds.
The landscaping remained immaculate. Freshly trimmed hedges lined the walkway, and the lawn had clearly been maintained.
“Victor bought it years ago,” Leon replied. “I’m curious to see what he’s been doing inside.”
A faint shudder ran along my skin as I followed him toward the entrance.
“Promise you’ll stay close,” he said, his voice deeper with age, though softened by traces of affection that had never completely disappeared.
I stood beside him as he reached for the door.
The knob had been secured with an old locking mechanism—a simple latch that had likely gone untouched for years. Leon applied pressure and twisted the handle until the metal snapped loose with a sharp pop, the locking mechanism breaking apart beneath the force.
“So much for security,” he muttered as he pushed the door open. “Too easy.”
“Does that mean… he’s expecting you?” I asked.
“More than likely.”
Leon stepped inside first, though he hadn’t moved far before a staff nurse appeared suddenly in the hallway.
“Mr. Kennedy,” she said in a calm, assured tone. “Dr. Gideon has been expecting you.”
“Funny,” Leon replied with a faint smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t remember getting an invitation.”
As he spoke, his hand reached back and gently grabbed mine, pulling me slightly behind him.
“Well, he’s waiting,” the nurse continued.
Her gaze shifted as she tried to look around Leon, catching a brief glimpse of my face. Leon casually stepped sideways, blocking her view entirely.
“Can’t have that now, can we?” he murmured.
“Follow me, please.”
She turned and began walking down the corridor.
Leon followed while still holding my hand, his voice suddenly polite and even.
“Lead the way.”
_____________________________________________
The nurse brought us into an examination room before quietly excusing herself.
Once she left, I took a moment to examine the room more closely.
The walls were decorated with elegant French-style paneling, accented by crown molding along the ceiling.
The pastel colors gave the room a strangely refined appearance, far more stylish than one would expect from a medical facility.
Even the foyer we had passed through felt unusually grand.
Something about it unsettled me.
Perhaps it reminded me too much of the house where I had grown up.
I turned my head toward Leon.
“What’s that?” I asked, noticing the photograph in his hand.
“A line of men up to no good.”
He tossed the photo back onto the desk and glanced briefly at his watch.
For a moment I simply stood there, staring at the dark mark spreading along his neck.
“When did you first notice…”
My voice faltered when his eyes lifted suddenly, piercing straight through me even though his expression remained calm.
He knew exactly what I was asking.
“Earlier than I would’ve liked.”
Leon crossed his arms and gave me a reassuring smirk.
“But I don’t get to do neat little tricks like you do.”
A quiet laugh escaped both of us.
“There’s nothing like you,” he added softly, almost as if he hadn’t intended for me to hear it.
Before I could respond, the intercom suddenly blared to life.
Voices shouted somewhere down the hall. Their panic echoed through the building before gradually fading into the distance.
Leon immediately straightened, instinctively stepping closer as his arm moved protectively in front of me.
The double doors burst open.
“Mr. Kennedy, we have to leave immediately!” the nurse shouted.
“What’s going on?” Leon asked.
“I don’t know. Some kind of mass hysteria. The hospital is on lockdown.”
My brows knitted together as I noticed movement behind her.
A corpse staggered slowly into the room.
Its breathing was heavy—not from exhaustion, but from hunger.
Just like always.
Then the roar of a chainsaw filled the air.
The nurse barely had time to turn before the spinning blade tore through her body, spraying blood across the walls in violent streaks.
Leon moved instantly.
The infected focused on him as he stepped forward, completely ignoring my presence.
I circled around the creature and drew the long blade concealed inside my coat. The steel flashed once before slicing cleanly through its flesh.
That was when I noticed it.
A smell.
It seeped from the wound like vapor, a stench I had never encountered before.
I covered my nose instinctively.
It wasn’t the familiar scent of decay.
Instead it carried a harsh chemical bite that burned my nostrils.
“Come on!” Leon shouted as he grabbed my arm and pulled me through the doorway.
“Shit.”
The grand foyer had become a nightmare.
Bodies staggered across the floor, their movements erratic and unnatural. Their eyes immediately locked onto Leon the moment we appeared.
“We have to get you away from them,” I breathed, scanning the staircase for an escape route.
Another corpse lunged toward us but collapsed instantly under Leon’s gunfire.
Then I felt it.
A strange prickle ran across my skin, as if something behind us had shifted the air itself.
I turned just in time to see another corpse rushing toward Leon from behind.
“Leon—!”
He spun around, but not quickly enough.
The creature’s jaws clamped down on my arm instead.
Pain erupted through me as its teeth pierced my flesh. I clenched my jaw while it shook its head violently, gnawing through muscle with desperate hunger.
Leon reacted instantly.
His hatchet struck with brutal precision, splitting through the creature’s skull before he tore the head free from its neck.
I cradled my arm against my chest as my body began repairing the damage.
The wound sealed.
But the scent of my blood remained.
And that changed everything.
The remaining corpses froze.
Slowly, their heads turned toward me.
Until now, my injuries had never mattered. Whether I bled or healed, the infected had never noticed me.
But something about these creatures was different.
They could smell it.
The chemical infection inside them reacted to the blood in my veins as if it recognized something foreign—something powerful enough to awaken a new kind of hunger.
For the first time since the outbreak began…I understood what it felt like to be the prey.
Their eyes fixed on me this time.
Their mouths opened wider as saliva dripped from their lips.
“Why are they able to see you?” Leon asked without taking his eyes off the approaching bodies.
“I—I don’t know,” I answered, my voice tightening. “These ones are different… there’s something about their infection that’s…”
My words trailed off as the infected shuffled closer.
Their groans filled the air.
“Can you create a path for us?” Leon asked while slamming a fresh magazine into his pistol.
I nodded.
As he began firing again, the air suddenly filled with wings.
Thousands of moths erupted through the foyer, swirling through the space like a living storm. My body dissolved into the colony as the swarm spread outward, cutting through flesh and bone with bladed precision.
Within seconds, the infected began collapsing one after another.
Their bodies fell as the swarm carved a path forward.
And though I had vanished from sight, I had never truly left.
I was everywhere.
And my beauties were bringing every monster in that building down.
As I danced through the eyes of my colony, another pair of eyes watched my beauties glide.
Eyes of a predator.
The only one who has ever caught me.
Chapter One: Eclipse
A Resident Evil fanfic. Mature/Adult content.
Pairings: Leon Kennedy x Reader (OC)
Warnings: Open page intimacy, sexual content, tension, slow burn, flashbacks, hints of dubious consent, world building, narrative mystery, gore, violence, supernatural elements/abilities.
The streets were fogged and gray as I passed beneath the yellow tape stretched across the sidewalk. From a distance it looked like another ordinary crime scene, though in this city appearances were often fragile disguises.
I paused briefly and glanced over my shoulder.
The Wrenwood Hotel.
The name stirred a faint familiarity somewhere in the back of my mind, like a memory reflecting against the surface of water. I considered it for only a moment before dismissing the thought and continuing forward through the crowd gathering along the street.
Much like the city itself, the people moving around me were not warm. They were simply there—faces blank, voices non-existent, bodies passing one another without acknowledgement. Their bodies filled the street, yet somehow the air still felt empty.
Puddles along the asphalt reflected the dim glow of traffic lights as the sky slowly darkened. The air carried an unpleasant mixture of rust and sewage, a smell that stayed at the back of one’s throat long after the first breath. Paper flyers peeled away from building walls and lay flattened against the wet pavement while cigarette smoke drifted lazily from the bus stops I passed.
The entire city exhaled exhaustion. Fumes so heavy and potent, you could almost see it.
When the oppressive atmosphere became too heavy to tolerate, I slipped quietly into a narrow alley between two buildings, hoping the quieter path might offer a moment of relief.
That’s when the screaming began.
At first the voices sounded distant, scattered ahead of me beyond the street. Within seconds they multiplied, growing louder as several people rushed forward, sprinting toward the alley as if their lives depended on every desperate step. Panic drove them forward, they exhausted every breath to get away as they shoved past one another without even noticing me standing there.
They were running from something.
I didn’t need to see it to understand what followed behind them. The blood in my veins had already begun to warm with recognition as the familiar sound reached my ears.
The infected.
Their screams were not born from fear but from something far more primal and savage. Their jaws hung open, dislocated from stretching too wide, while their eyes had already begun to change. Skin clung loosely to their faces as the early stages of decay spread across their bodies, rotting and breaking down even as the virus forced them forward.
Rotting and decaying, yet still moving, they pursued the fleeing crowd with relentless hunger, hunting for any remaining warmth that still lived within uninfected flesh.
I stood at the center of the walkway and watched them pass.
Not one of them noticed me. They never do.
Their attention remained on the fleeing bodies ahead of them, their senses completely consumed by the scent of living blood. Even as they rushed past my shoulder, their clouded eyes never once shifted in my direction.
That had always been the strange part.
The infected never saw me. Not since I became what I am now.
Slowly, I pivoted on my heel and turned halfway, watching as the chase continued down the street. They moved quickly, their bodies fueled by the violent energy of the virus, but speed had never been their advantage.
I had lived long enough to be faster.
Moving this way is difficult to describe. The sensation feels like being thrown forward by an invisible force while still maintaining absolute control over every direction of movement. My feet glide along the pavement instead of stepping against it, my balance never faltering as the world stretches and blurs around me.
Buildings smear into streaks of gray and black while the colors of traffic lights explode into ribbons of red and green. The city dissolves into a mirage until only a single point remains clear within my sight.
My targetsa.
I launch myself toward a nearby brick wall. My foot lands flat against it and I use it to gain leverage, pushing myself off and redirecting the force of my speed into a sharp new angle before descending upon the first one.
Even though the woman standing before me had become monstrous, experience had taught me that somewhere inside her ruined body still lingered the heart of someone who still wanted to be human.
That knowledge never made what followed any easier.
I moved my arm, quick as lightning.
Her head separated cleanly from her shoulders.
Before her body even collapsed to the pavement I had already moved on to the next, then the next after that, and another beyond them. One by one they fell as I severed their heads, ending the chase before the fleeing crowd even realized the danger had vanished.
The survivors continued running without looking back, unaware that the nightmare pursuing them had already been erased.
When the street finally grew quiet again, I paused and listened.
Gunshots echoed somewhere close by.
Sirens accompanied them.
“There’s more?” I whispered to myself.
The spread of the virus had slowed significantly over the past few years as government forces intensified their suppression of infected populations. Entire districts had been quarantined, burned, or demolished in order to contain outbreaks before they could spread further. The world was far from safe, but compared to the early days, moments like this had become increasingly rare.
Yet tonight the city was anything but quiet.
I accelerated once more, moving through the streets until the flashing lights of a police vehicle came into view.
The patrol car sat abandoned in the middle of the road with its emergency lights spinning endlessly against the darkness. All four doors were left open, and fresh blood streaked across the hood.
At the center of the intersection stood a man.
He fought with the controlled precision of someone who had faced the infected many times before. A hatchet swung through the skull of one creature before he pivoted and fired his pistol into another, seamlessly alternating between easch weapon, gunfire, and bare fists as more infected staggered toward him.
Unfortunately, skill alone would not save the man.
The infected were emerging from every direction, drawn by the sound of his heartbeat and the scent of untainted blood. Finding the source of this sudden outbreak was important, but that investigation would have to wait. If I didn’t intervene soon, the man would be overwhelmed long before any answers were found.
I inhaled slowly and allowed the change to begin.
It started in my fingertips.
A subtle loosening beneath the skin as my body began to dissolve into something else. The transformation spread gradually through my arms, my hips, and my legs until my entire form began to fragment.
I didn’t tear apart. Instead, I colonized.
My smooth skin separated into thousands of living fragments without blood, without pain, and without the violent rupture that most breakage demanded.
Spanish Moon Moths.
My beauties.
They were more than simple creatures. Every one of them responded to my thoughts, moving as extensions of my own consciousness. They listened, obeyed, and carried out whatever commands I imagined.
And I had always been known to get rather creative.
The first idea that entered my mind was simple; have them surround the intersection, shield the lone fighter, and allow my beauties to do what they did best.
Feast.
The infected flesh didn’t concern them. My moths were not ordinary insects. Their wings moved like sharpened blades that sliced through the air with lethal precision. Their bodies weren’t built for nourishment but for reduction, shredding matter until nothing remained but drifting particles carried away by the wind.
As my physical form dissolved completely, my awareness expanded outward.
I was no longer standing in the street.
I was everywhere.
The swarm spread across the intersection like a living eclipse, jaded wings fluttering through the air as my consciousness moved with them. Each moth became another pair of eyes, another fragment of perception feeding information back to me.
They closed in around the man.
Metal screamed as their wings sliced through the aluminum shells of abandoned vehicles while the infected bodies caught within the swarm were torn apart and reduced to ash.
From within the storm of wings, I watched the man look upward.
His expression was tired, worn, but not shocked.
Only relieved with a hint of confusion.
I nearly withdrew the swarm once the street had been cleared, but something about him caught my attention.
Something familiar.
The way the streetlight reflected in his eyes.
The slight curve of his lips as he exhaled a breath.
“Leon?”
The realization struck me like a brick in the head.
The swarm faltered instantly as thousands of wings shifted direction and began returning toward one another. My senses came back to me as the moths gathered together, slowly reconstructing the shape of my body until gravity settled around me once again.
The sensation felt strangely similar to waking from sleep.
Except I had never been unconscious.
I stood before him, keeping a respectful distance.
He looked directly at me.
He always had.
“Irina.”
Memories immediately resurfaced as my name slipped from his lips. The last time we had seen each other had been beneath the echo of Spanish hymns while wolves howled through the mountains.
I had been searching for answers.
He had been searching for a girl.
Somehow, in the middle of that nightmare, we had found each other instead.
Just like before.
Just like now.
“I knew it was you.”
I felt a soft smile forming on my face. I try to hold it in by speaking in jest.
“What gave me away?”
Leon smirked despite the fatigue plastered across his face. I expected him to mention the swarm of moths, or perhaps the impossible speed I had used moments earlier.
Instead, his answer surprised me.
“Whenever you’re around, the air feels warm.”
The smiles faded from both of us as an old ache sank into our chests.
I felt it immediately.
And judging from the look in his eyes, so did he.
I stepped closer, studying every detail of his face. Dark circles framed his tired eyes while damp strands of hair clung to his forehead. Time had left its mark on him, yet something about his presence still shone with the same stubborn brightness I remembered.
His pupils moved slowly over me as well.
First my eyes.
Then my skin.
Finally my hair.
“You know…” he said quietly, “you don’t look bad for being a hundred and twenty.”
A small laugh escaped me before I could stop it. I quickly bit my lip and looked back up.
“One hundred and twenty-five… to be exact.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Huh. Even better.”
For a moment we simply stood there, staring at one another while the distant sirens continued to echo throughout the city.
His voice softened as he spoke again, and the memories returned painfully.
The night we had shared.
Not the first.
But the last.
Until now.
Because something deep inside me whispered that perhaps… that was about to change.
Next Chapter
Will you still write for Hee? A lot of authors are leaving? D:
I’m not leaving. And I will continue to write short stories as I work on some other projects. :)
gurl I need your stories so badly right now life is so unfair right now and I’ve been crying all day and the only thing I want to see is your stories about the seven demons.
I understand.
If any of the links don’t work, just replace the Rinbowaman with tmwcs in the link. Here is the enha version of the original piece with all seven of the princes.
S E 7 E N M A S T E R L I S T Teaser Post OT7 HeeseungxReader(SMUT/MDNI18+), Legal line x Reader (SMUT/MDNI18+), Junior line x Reader (Flu
Where did you go? Come back (ㅠ﹏ㅠ)
I’m still here! Just working on some projects and doing school. 🤙🏻
How are you all holding up?