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I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVING MY WORK REPOSTED UNLESS I SPECIFICALLY TELL YOU OTHERWISE
･ďžâ˘âŕ¨âĄŕ§â⢠･ďžthe dearest collection - part two đŠâĄđŞ part three
this is very heavily inspired by @//clusterfuck-yandere's yandere leon headcanons; please check out their works. this is something of a love letter to their puppy obsession series.
yandere leon s. kennedy headcanons; reader is a survivor of raccoon city.
tw: general yandere/obsessive behaviour, ptsd, survivor's guilt, cyberstalking, mentions of suicide (though not the actual act of it)
ËĘâĄÉË i intend for this to be multiple parts, as it's already become quite long before there was any real yandere behaviour. updating may be scattered due to work.
you met him in the aftermath.
⥠there was an online support group for survivors, and after you barely escaped with your life, you needed all the help you could get.
⥠most of the members were nice enough. there was a lot of comforting, a lot of 'it's not your fault' and a lot of just trying to cheer each other up.
⥠there was one member in particular that always, always responded to your posts and comments.
⥠the user didn't have an account; you always simply chalked it up to them being technologically illiterate, or maybe they were simply forgetful.
⥠perhaps that was a bit naïve; if they could always remember your posts, who were they to forget having an account?
⥠but that didn't matter. they always signed off the same way-with a single initial, K.
⥠maybe it was a bit sappy. but having someone in your corner felt nice, after everything.
⥠ultimately, they were harmless and sweet, so having them around in your little slice of the internet was fine.
⥠they always worked double-time to cheer you up.
maybe K was a bit jealous.
⥠when you would speak with other group members, K would like your responses.
⥠sometimes, though, they'd pitch in; ignoring the other user entirely and simply talking with you as though you were the one who started the conversation.
⥠you tried to ignore it. other members on the forum didn't say anything, so you assumed it wasn't too strange.
but then they started to become more intimate.
⥠they would bring up small things that felt too strange to be a coincidence.
⥠they'd recommend you relax by watching that show you just started, or snacking on some of your favourite food, or taking a nap because it 'seemed' you were working to hard.
⥠they were personal enough to make your stomach churn, but it was not enough that you weren't able to reason it away.
⥠they were still so sugary sweet as well, and despite the unnerving nature of their kindness, the support meant everything.
⥠in a forum where everyone is upset and needing help at once, having someone that focused on you was nice.
⥠because at the end of the day, when you went into your bed, there always felt like something was wrong.
⥠the room was too small. you thought of what you did in the city, what you didn't, who you didn't save and who you damned.
⥠the sheets were too warm. your window had a shadow over it. the closet, was it cracked open? did something move around when you weren't looking?
⥠part of you knew in your heart of hearts that it was simply Raccoon City scaring you like a ghost. because if it wasn't, then what was haunting you?
you needed to get out. so, you got a job.
⥠at first, it was hell on earth. just leaving your home was hard enough; but going outside for upwards of eight hours was horrifying.
⥠your manager and coworker, however, were kind. they knew what you had gone through, and didn't rush you. the regulars were sweet, giving short words of encouragement.
⥠maybe this wasn't so bad.
⥠courtesy of the little bakery you worked at now, you were fed. you were getting paid. you began getting more sunshine, cleaning up more, feeling more accomplished.
⥠you started to stop posting.
⥠you had other things to focus on, now. you were considering getting a pet; so you had to save up money.
⥠but after a week and a half of not going on the forum at all, you decide to make an update.
K had made an account.
⥠oh, they had made one; they had made it to send hundreds upon hundreds of pleas into your messages.
⥠'please, you mean so much', they begged. 'talk to me!', they wept.
⥠maybe they assumed you had offed yourself. it was possible.
⥠you took a second to look through all of them, feeling warm at first. K was sweet and kind and so soft, apparently.
⥠but with every message, they seemed to take one inch closer to strange, to creepy, to outright alarming.
⥠"please don't do anything rash!"
⥠"you don't know how much you mean to me!"
⥠"i know it's hard, but hang on for me!"
⥠"i need to know you're okay!"
⥠"whatever it is, i can help, please just let me in"
⥠"is it that job? it's the job, right? they're working you to death"
⥠"please just respond!"
⥠the horror seemed to grow with every message, up until one from just an hour or two ago;
"i just love you too much, i think"
⥠something isn't right.
⥠...
⥠maybe it's time that you blocked K.
⥠you blocked their account, knowing it probably wouldn't do much. if they knew about your job, then what else did they know about?
⥠but you didn't hear much after that. there was a day or two where you were scared to even go to work, but that's alright.
you have a new regular.
⥠he's very sweet, almost achingly so; whenever he came into the bakery, he seemed equal parts nervous and bashful. he always tipped exceedingly well, and his order usually was some sort of new health option the owner was trying out.
⥠he wasn't just nice, though; he was pretty as well. he had a cute chin and his hair seemed always soft, and he spoke offhand about how he liked to work out because of his job.
⥠He was always happy to talk, but knew to leave if there was a line and didn't stay any longer than he was wanted.
⥠you didn't even know his name for a good month; but he often took liberty dropping yours.
⥠when you asked how he knew, he had a bright flush on his face before admitting that he had asked your coworker.
⥠how sweet!
⥠you found his name was Leon S. Kennedy, who was self-dubbed as "rookie cop extraordinaire".
⥠he began to clearly go out of his way to come into the bakery, sometimes coming in after clear workouts with a gym bag over his shoulder and a tank top on. was visiting a bakery after a workout counterintuitive?
⥠absolutely.
⥠but you don't mind. it's nice, seeing a cute face coming into work. and it always feels like he's doing it just for you. quite the special creature you are!
⥠he held a constant enthusiasm to talk to you, and it's enough to make your heart ache.
⥠the kicker comes when, offhand, he mentions Raccoon City; how he had gone to the police department for his first day and ended up saving a woman and a young girl from the apocalypse.
⥠instantly, your heartstrings are pulled because oh god. someone who understands. someone who did more than you could, has done more.
⥠you finally begin to get closer to him of your own accord. once or twice, you've even hinted at being single.
⥠each time you did, Leon would freeze; big blue eyes staring right at you with a pink flush that would anyone crumble. he even shook a little, like a small dog, and each time you'd have to laugh.
⥠it snaps him back to reality, and the conversation carries on.
but things are quiet on the eastern front.
⥠you haven't heard much from K since you blocked them. it's only natural, considering the steps taking. but sometimes, you wonder if K is still watching, what K really knew.
⥠maybe they were just an excellent guesser.
⥠but they've since gone silent. account or no, they're not saying anything anymore, and there's some semblance of peace.
⥠but you're still uneasy. something is still wrong.
⥠...
⥠was your bed always this warm when you wake up?
Okay I'm def on a Leon kick rn!! This one is also unfinished but def worth investing time in reading it as the writing and plot are both great!! I'm rlly on the edge of my seat for more!!
Yandere Leon Kennedy x Police Academy Student Reader
This is in HC format.
The reader is gender neutral.
Content warning: Slight stalking, unnerving behavior, implied breaking and entering.
ARCHIVED POST. @clusterfuck-yandere IS MY NEW BLOG.
PLEASE DO NOT SEND REQUESTS ON THIS BLOG.
â You thought he was kind of a weirdo.
I mean, no one can really blame you. Despite how his eyes had an adorable naĂŻvetĂŠ to themâŚ
⌠or how attractive he was,
the staring thing was a bit creepy.
â Ever since the first day at the academy, you could feel his pale blue eyes burning into your head.
Through PT, drills, classroom instructions, the shooting range, even lunch, you could always feel him staring at you.
It was becoming a problem.
A BIG problem.
And it didnât help that he always found a way to be near you.
Physical training? Heâs doing push-ups right next to you.
Drills? You can practically feel him breathing down your neck as you march.
Classroom instructions? Heâll always manage to snag a desk near you.
Shooting range? In the spot next to you.
Lunch? Itâs guaranteed heâs at the table behind you.
â The other trainees are definitely well aware of his behavior.
Itâs not like heâs subtle, with him staring at you in broad daylight.
Some think itâs just an adorable little puppy crush.
And, on the surface, they arenât entirely wrong.
Itâs just him looking at you with adoration and wanting to be at your side, right?
Maybe he just looks up to you, thinking of you as a role model.
Anytime they catch him staring at you, theyâll usually do a bit of teasing, causing his cheeks to slightly burn.
âThought you passed your middle school crush phase a while ago, Kennedy.â
There are a handful of trainees that call you lucky, since youâve gotten the attention of one of the top police academy students.
Not to mention one of the most attractive students, too.
â But some find it just as creepy as you.
Like the guy who happened to catch a glimpse of Leonâs phone lock screen.
It was you.
Walking to your car.
Seemingly unaware of your picture being taken.
Thatâs kind of a red flag.
Thereâs also that one female trainee who saw Leon stuff a jacket in his duffel bag.
Right after you said you lost your jacket of that same colorâŚ
Others just find it unnerving that he finds time to stare at you for almost the entire day.
One dude joked that he probably finds time to stare at you 24/7.
You did not like that inference.
A lot of pitying looks are thrown your way when Leonâs hovering near you.
Itâs nice to know some people have sympathy for you, at least.
â Things go missing a lot.
Pencils for jotting down notes during classroom instructions will mysteriously disappear from your desk.
Gear like your pistol holster wonât be where you last put it after PT.
Even clothing articles from your locker go missing, never to be found again.
Youâve gotten the reputation of âthe forgetful cadetâ amongst the sergeants because of this.
At first, you thought it was just the other trainees playing a prank.
Thereâs no way you could lose track of yet another packet of sticky notes.
But then you start to realize just who recovers these items almost every single time.
Leon Scott Kennedy.
After a minute or two of checking around your desk, youâll feel a tap on your shoulder and see that heâs holding your pencil.
âIt rolled off your desk,â heâll say with that same giddy smile.
Frantically looking around for your holster â and cursing yourself for setting it down âfor just a secondâ â your name will be called, followed by Leon holding up your holster.
âI think this is yours,â heâll say with a bright expression.
In fact, one time, you remember confronting a trainee whoâs notorious for stealing other peopleâs sticky notes.
âOh, look,â they said. âMaybe your dog found them.â
You turned around to see Leon holding your pack of sticky notes in his hand, a proud smile on his face.
Youâve gotta be kidding me.
â As stated before, your clothing articles are never to be seen again.
Shirts, jackets, sweatshirts, they all seem to vanish without a trace.
Again, you thought it was just the other trainees playing a prank on you.
But then that female cadet who saw Leon shove a jacket in his bag spoke up.
âI think your culprit is that Kennedy guy.â
At this point, you werenât surprised.
The thought of him somehow getting into your locker still majorly creeped you out, of course.
And, of course, there was no way you could confirm your suspicions.
All you could do is ask around about your missing clothing items, hoping that they would turn up without having anything to do with Leon.
But your suspicion were only got stronger when you caught him with a familiar looking hoodie under his arm.
â You decided to finally confront him.
âIs that my hoodie?â
Leonâs shoulders slightly tensed at your question. âHuh?â
âI asked if that was my hoodie,â you said.
âUh, no,â he answered, pushing the hoodie further under his arm. âWhaâ why would it be your hoodie?â
âIt just looks awfully similar to the one I lost a couple days ago,â you explained with a skeptical tone.
âWell, it isnât,â he defended. âItâs mine.â
The way he started to get aggressive made you feel slightly uneasy.
âI was just asking,â you clarified, âsince clothes from my locker have been disappearing, andââ
He interrupted you. âAnd you think itâs me?!â
At this point, a small crowd was watching this exchange.
âIt just looked like my hoodie,â you professed. âThatâs all, man. Sorry for upsetting you.â
You then decided that a hoodie wasnât worth agitating one of the academyâs top students.
That could get ugly fast.
Before you walked away, though, you caught a glimpse of the guilty expression on Leonâs face.
He looked like a puppy that just tore up a couch.
You bit back your desire to ask him any further questions.
When you got home that evening, you walked into your room to see a mass of clothes on your bed.
You brushed it off as laundry you dumped on your bed that morning.
But then you noticed the jacket you lost a couple weeks ago, the training shirt that mysteriously disappeared when you changed for drills, and â more importantly â the hoodie Leon claimed wasnât yours.
It all somehow ended up in your room.
You then decided it was time to change your locks.
kind of wanna reinforce this here. because iâve seen ai writing become so popular on tik tok.
ai writing is not okay.
itâs literally theft. just like how ai art steals, ai writing steals. itâs using authorsâ very real work to generate whatever you type in. and this also needs to be said as well.
writing is a form of art. fanfiction is a form of literature.
seeing this all over my fyp is REALLY discouraging. fanfic itself is already a labor of love and we love it when you interact. but please do not use ai writing for your fanfic needs when this writing literally steals from fanfic authors.
genuinely donât know if this post will go around because my interactions outside of hcs are shit, but i hope it does.
I feel so dumb while commenting, because 90% of the time itâs just me quoting the fic and going âoh wow??â or âYESSSâ or âNOOOâ or âPAINâ because iâm an inarticulate mess but. Writers genuinely EAT THAT UP and are super thrilled and delighted about it.
SO:Â Donât trust your socially awkward, anxious guts, trust me. That clumsy, weird comment you felt awkward leaving? Will make a writerâs day. Seriously, itâs the truth.
*opens asks* "altruism update when?" *Opens ao3 notifs* "will this be updated??" *Opens wattpad* "I really hope this is updated!!"
Okay okay guys I get the hint. I will be fixing up old altruism chapters and then continuing to update the story! I'll post the fixed chapters as entirely new posts, but keep up the current ones just for the memories!
But, while I'm working on it I'd love for your input! Anything I should add? Anything I should change? What do you want elaborated on? Lmk! This story is as much of your guy's as it is my self indulgent before bed daydream!
Watched the Titanic in theaters for its 25th anniversary with my boyfriend yesterday and now writing a zemo fic set on the Titanic is sounding so good rn....
we need a new sexyman that I can write about. I donât like stranger things so that Eddie guy is out of the question, I could always do good olâ Draco but I feel like thatâs too oversaturated of a market. Bucky Barnes has been Olâ reliable for everyone for years but idk he just doesnât do it for me. Matty Healy is popping on tiktok right now but rpf makes me feel like a creep. I have a grudge against Paul Dano and his fans because he takes up the War and Peace tag when I wanna look at it and discuss the book, and Battinson wasnât as thirsted for as Danoâs Riddler. Itâs just me and Zemo alone on a lifeboat in the middle of this ocean called tumblr.
Just had the most terrifying week ever! On friday I decided to try and do an automatic redirect from my main blog to this fanfic sideblog for when I responded to asks so i can get mutuals and friends from it but it turns out thatâs NOT ALLOWED and got my main blog terminated so I couldnât access sideblogs so this, my bruhl fan blog (which im super proud of cuz i got the username bruhl), and my animal jam blog were gone to me for what i thought was forever and I was super bummed because I was gonna start using tumblr again, but as you can tell I have access again and all is okay, but oh my fucking god was that nervewracking. Anyways Iâm gonna be posting again, missed yaâll bruhldom!!
TLDR: Iâm posting again after a fiasco. Tumblr needs to both let us send asks from sideblogs so people donât accidentally break rules trying to find a solution and also actually answer their emails in a day like they say they will.
I love it when anons/guests find my works and kudo/leave reviews, but given the new revelation that Elon Musk is using bots to mine AO3 fanfiction for a writing AI without writer's permission, my works are now archive-locked and only available for people with an AO3 account.
