Feeling as though Rook is secondary to Neve? You shouldn’t, not really at least because Rook is irreplaceable for the same reasons people are holding animosity towards Neve.
‘Neve gets him without doing any of the hard work.’ Rook is the only person alive who could even be able to. That’s the whole point.
Saving Minrathous results in the Inner Demons quest never happening.
Meaning an unhealed Lucanis never makes peace with Spite.
Meaning he goes on to enter a relationship with a woman (to no fault of her own) who could never, and would never, force him to face his fears and give him the unyielding encouragement needed to live without compartmentalizing every important thing to ever happen to him.
Without Rook completing that quest— Lucanis remains chained down by his debilitating fear of disappointing Caterina, the shame of being made into an abomination against his will, the guilt of being the one who got off easier than Neve and the pain and anger Illario’s betrayal brought onto him.
“Thoughts live here. Ideas. Feelings.” Disappointment. Shame. Guilt. Betrayal. All of which Lucanis felt were too big, too messy to face.
Solavellan is Rookanis’ foil. Except Rook is if Lavellan had succeeded in persuading Solas to face his regrets.
And what was the crux of the replacement Fade prison Solas crafted for the Evanuris? It was a prison built on regret, and the only way to leave would be to face them. Which Ghilan’nan and Elgar’nan would never be able to do.
Spite says “Lucanis is here. Behind locked doors. I can’t break through.” But Rook can.
In his mind’s eye, Lucanis makes Caterina, Harding, Neve and Illario his jailers of negative emotions in a prison of his own creation.
And in all that inner turmoil, his idea of Illario says, “Rook, you’re too good to be here.”
Rook isn’t one of his jailers, not because they don’t matter enough compared to the others, but because Lucanis’ thoughts, ideas and feelings for Rook are too good.
Rook opens doors, they’re not a jailer who throws away the key. In Lucanis and Spite’s eyes, Rook is the key. They are a liberator, a hero, the only one he’ll listen to.
Love, understanding, the unwavering promise of companionship (platonic or romantic) despite the risk to themselves sets Lucanis free.
I’ve seen people who are disappointed in his storyline complain that it feels as though ‘Rook strong arms him into a committed relationship’ that he somehow ‘feels obligated to indulge’ and engage in as a result of saving Treviso. I believe these claims just end up ignoring the really good diamonds in the rough we’re given in terms of Rookanis relationship development.
A romanced!Lucanis gives way to lines like “I don’t know what Rook sees in me. I’m happy to just be around them.”
And paralleling scenes like when Caterina chastises a kneeling Illario with “A Dellamorte never kneels.” Only for Lucanis to later walk over to a post-Fade trapped Rook and literally kneel at their feet like they’re the only deity he cares to worship like this is Take Me To Church by Hozier.
And what is Rookanis as a ship, if not Rook teaching him it’s okay to assert himself, which leads to Lucanis reclaiming his humanity through an act of love? Just saying. Given time, and love, he turns into a Gomez Addams sort of romantic figure.
If Rook were associated as any feeling to Lucanis then they’d be love. Affection. A state of understanding. Purpose? Freedom?
Better yet, Rook could be determination. After all, Rook’s defining characteristic is that they ‘just can’t seem to quit’— in the face of the man they care about saying ‘give up on me, i’m damaged goods’ why wouldn’t they win him over in the end?
Imagine having dated Luis Serra in the past only to be reunited with him literally chained to you.
“Another late night?”
A sigh. “Sí. Wesker wants another update on the new medicine my team is developing.”
“Didn’t you just send him a report about it this morning?”
“My thoughts exactly. But people like him, they’ll push because they can and keeping pushing until they get what they want.”
“Sounds familiar.”
The man stops typing away for a moment to turn and wink at you. “You like it when I push.”
You chuckle lightly in turn and pull up a seat next to Luis. The researcher welcomes you at his side, instinctively placing his hand upon your knee as soon as you settled onto the chair. His fingers dance upon the fabric of your pants, caressing the warm skin beneath while his other hand returns to the keyboard.
There is a tired expression upon his handsome face as he focuses back on the computer screen, but the tugged up smirk on his lips and the relaxed gleam in his beautiful grey eyes that appeared in the wake of your presence of you was unmistakable.
“It’s going to be awhile,” he says, a soft lull in his voice. “You should go home and get some sleep, mi corazon.”
You shake your head, returning him a gentle smile of your own. “I’ll wait, Luis. I don’t mind.”
“Can’t rest unless we’re in bed together?”, he says with a wag of his brows.
You quip back playfully, “We wouldn’t even rest if we’re in bed together.”
The Spaniard hums thoughtfully. “That’s a tempting thought. I better hurry up, then.” He leans his head against yours. “Pero, seriously. I don’t want to make you wait.”
A comforting hand reaches over to affectionately squeeze his muscles arm, “It’s fine. Stop worrying. As long as I’m with you, Luis, I’m happy.”
You feel him nod. The growing hairs along his fine jaw, softly scratching against your head. “Yo tambien. What is the expression, we’re… attached to the hip?”
“Practically chained together you and I.”
“Keep distracting me with ideas like that and we’ll never leave this place.”
—-
A deafening ring scratches against your ear drums, a dim light shines a dull pain in your eyes, and rusted metal scratches against your wrists. All these sensations awoke you gradually, a slow rude awakening. You’ve barely a moment to gather your wits and take in your surroundings before a familiar voice catches your attention.
“¿Estás bien? Are you hurt?”
It’s Luis, he sounded slightly disgruntled, but it did little to hide his evident concern for you.
You instinctively shake your head. “No. No, I think I’m okay. You?”
“Could be worse. Better than being in a musty burlap sack. And this time, I am in the presence of good company.”
Always the charmer. Some people just do not change, and when it came to Luis, that thought puts you at ease.
The last thing you remembered before coming to was finding Luis tied up in some basement. Leon was there, and another man, large and imposing, who approached the three of you unannounced. There were gunshots, and you recall a massive fist connecting with your head. That’s gonna bruise…
You look overhead to see your wrists clapped in irons and a pair of strong arms dangling alongside yours.
“Guess we ended up chained together, afterall.”
You feel Luis’ back slightly shaking against yours, a low chuckle rumbling from his throat. “I admit, this isn’t how I imagined it to be like either.” After a slight pauses, he sighs and calls you by name. “Pleasant talk aside, not that I’m not happy to see you again because… admittedly… I am- But what are you even doing here?”
You shrug. “Oh, you know. The views.”
The Spaniard scoffs. “Falsa. You’re a terrible liar. Always have been.”
Again, you deflect. “And what about you, Luis? This doesn’t exactly look like a cozy spot for a vacation.”
“I live here. Within the village. The house you found me under? Casa de mi infancia. My childhood home. It was, anyways, before…”
He paused. For a moment that felt like an eternity, he said nothing. It unsettled you.
“…Luis?”
He shifts a little behind you at your voice before a what sounded like a defeated sigh escapes his lips. “Joder. I was conducting research,” the man began. “After leaving Umbrella, I came back here to treat the villagers from a disease that has plagued them for a long time. Back then, it was bad. But now, it is much, much worse than when I left many years ago. I tried to help, but as you can see, I’ve had little success.”
Now it was your turn to fall silent. That was a lot to take in. After separating from Luis all those years ago, you continued to keep tabs on him. You made the excuse that you were simply monitoring his movements in case you were able to gather more information about Umbrella, but really, you just wanted to make sure he was okay. The last time you two spoke… it did not go well. And when he went off the radar, you thought the worst but never gave up searching. To say you were relieved to see him again and learn that he still practiced medicine for the benefit of others was an understatement. You feared that he may have gone off the deep end and we’re glad that you were wrong.
Luis speaks up when you said nothing. “Suppose it’s a good thing that you didn’t come here with me, after all.”
You pondered over what to say. There was plenty. You wanted to tell him that you missed him. That you thought about him every day. That you ended things between you two for his sake. But they all failed to reach your throat. Instead, you opt for a different truth. One that he deserves.
“I work for the government.”
When he doesn’t speak right away, you mentally prepared yourself for his anger and disappointment. You expected him to fly off in a rage and curse you a thousand times over, reproaching you for failing to come to him with this from the beginning. You expected him to question if your time together, if your feelings shared were genuine, and you were prepared to confirm that you and him were real. Instead, as often as Luis does, he surprises you.
“I know.”
You blink, your words faltering for a second. “Y-You know? What do you mean ‘you know?’ When- How-”
“After you left me. I did a little digging- on my own… and I learned some things.” He shifts to his feet and you followed suit, meeting his eyes. Despite their cold hue, his words came out warmly. You detect a hint of anxiousness from him. “I know why you did what you did, mi amor. Just wished you would have told me.”
Your heart flutters unmistakably from his term of endearment for you. You had to force your eyes down so as not to have your emotions betrayed to him even though it was already pointless at this point.
“I couldn’t…”
“I know.” Those little words again. “Still would have been nice to hear them, anyway. Well, perhaps not “nice”- Pero, it would have been ideal to try to work it out together.”
“Would you have wanted to at that point?” The question left you before you could bite it back.
Luis’ eyes sparkled at the almost hopeful tone in your voice. “With you, I want to do everything.”
This man is too good to be real. You wanted to hug him then and there, to pour out every apology known to man, to beg his forgiveness and declare your love for him. But the chains around your hands and the fear of rejection prevented you from doing so. However, the way Luis looked at you told you everything you needed to know, told you everything he felt and still feels for you, and you only hoped that your eyes said the same. Still, being one that wishes to validate their intentions, you opened your mouth.
Luis stops you. “Shh! You hear that?”
You focus your senses, trying to identify what he’s talking about. And sure enough, the distinct sound of garbled, inhuman groans reaches both of your ears. Your fists clench and your body tenses instinctively. This time, not of fear, but in disciplined alarm, ready to face any threat that dared to come your way. Luis picks up your stance instantly, a flash of amusement and admiration in his grey gaze.
“Now, despite my impressive physique, I’m actually not much of a fighter. So, would you…?”
You switch places with him before he could even finish his sentence, minding the chain that connected you both. The tall man reflexively shivers beneath your touch and as you left a hand lingering upon chest in a protective manner, he didn’t move away.
“Stay behind me and keep your distance.” You ordered sternly before throwing him a side glance, “And by the way, this discussion is far from over.”
“Muy bien. You got this.”
His tone was meant to be casual, but there was no denying the hint of admiration (and daresay lust) that rumbled within his thick throat. This was a side of you he has never seen. And although he can deduce that it comes from years of discipline and training; deep down, he knew your instinct to protect him comes from something much baser and more powerful. He knows, because he’s ready to protect you to despite his suggestion otherwise.
There was so much that needed to be said between you two. But that would have to wait until you were both safe. And without interruption.
“Just another long night, ¿si?”
As long as I’m with you, Luis, I’m happy.
You didn’t say it out loud. But he heard them all the same.
.
.
.
A/N: A continuation of Him.
Gif is also not mine, please support the original poster :3
I miss ya and everyone too! Sorry I haven’t been posting lately- I’m good, just very busy and am working on getting the writing down for the fictional husbands T-T
To note, I’m working on: Luis Serra (of course), Heisenberg, Miguel O’Hara, and Johnny Silverhand. These gents need more content than they already have, their reader fics must be made!! So the goal is to get backing into posting for at least one of these gents once a week along with fulfilling the requests/asks I’ve received. I see y’all and I appreciate your time in sharing your love for my work.
Hope you’re doing well yourself, until next time! Appreciate you checking on me ^^ mwah <333
Hiii, I wanted to know if you could help me or guide me to start on tumblr, since I'm quite lost and somewhat confused by several things I've seen, mostly types of writing, warnings and so on, if it's not too much trouble, I want to start writing stories related to RE 😔
Hi anon!
Everyone has their own unique writing/posting style and there’s no shortage of amazing RE pieces out there. But I’ll be happy to answer any questions to help you find what works for you, just send me a dm if you like. It’s great to have another show love and interest to the RE fic community :D
hiiii! i just wanted to tell you how much i loved the last scenario of luis you wrote, it was *chefs kiss* are you planning on writing a pt. 2? it's ok if you don't<3
Hi anon! Thank you, I’m very glad that you enjoyed that piece! I do plan on continuing it. Without spoiling too much, Luis and reader/you will be chained up together 😉 It will be different from the “Chains” piece I first wrote. Stay tuned and hope you’re doing well!
Imagine being an undercover agent who once infiltrated Umbrella and grew close to Luis Serra. You were forced to separate from him, never telling him why and broke his heart in the process. When you thought that you have finally moved on, you find him again. Tied up in a sack.
“What’s in Spain?”
“My home. A village, to be exact. And remote. The people there could use people like us to help them. No one would be able to find us there. Not even Umbrella. There, we can disappear.”
“…I’m sorry, Luis. I can’t.”
.
“You seem distracted.”
“What?” you blink, immediately biting your tongue after. But it was too late, you were caught red-handed.
“Case in point,” your partner Leon sighs. “So, what is it? What’s on your mind?”
You reply with a frown, “I’m wondering how deep these tunnels go. Must have something important down here for these… villagers to go through the trouble of trying to lock it up inconspicuously.”
It was such a blatant lie, the blond’s stony expression showed that he wasn’t buying it at all. But Leon doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leads on with his gun and flashlight pointing forward in the darkness. You were relieved that he didn’t press further.
But he’s also right. You were distracted and on a mission where a steady, focused mind is imperative at all times. Mulling over the past on things that were best laid forgotten is meaningless and offered no benefit to the task at hand. So why bother even allowing it to weigh so heavily in your thoughts?
Because what are the odds that this is the same place that he mentioned? The one that he wanted to hide away with you within? Given everything you’ve seen so far, with all these monsters roaming about, you sincerely hope not. Surely this is all coincidental and that he is in some other part of Spain.
.
“You mentioned that you grew up in Spain, right? What was it like there?”
“Oh? For once you don’t want to talk about work or whatever ingenius discoveries I’ve made recently? Pero, you actually want to engage in small talk? It must be a sign!”
“Answer the question or I’m requesting a department change.”
“Calma, calma. I only tease. Hmm… The weather can be unforgiving, especially during the rainy season. The people live day-to-day on whatever resources that can grow or be found under the constantly harsh conditions. Sickness often spreads and the treatment is… archaic.”
“This all sounds awful.”
“It wasn’t all bad. Everyone in our small community had someone to support them. I had my grandfather. He helped shape me to be the man I am today. A very handsome man at that, with both brains and brawn. In case, you didn’t notice already.”
“He must be very proud of you.”
“I hope so...”
“You don’t keep in touch?”
“So interested in my life story all of a sudden. And yet I still know so little of yours.”
“What’s there to know? There’s not much to tell.”
“See, that is where you’re wrong, my friend. A key to a great story is time to gather your thoughts. And I wouldn’t mind making time to listen to yours. How does after work sound? There’s an excellent coffee spot around the corner.”
“…You know what? A drink sounds great.”
.
You should have rejected him then and there. The task was only to gather information and find evidence of the production of biochemical weaponry. Forming attachments was not part of the job. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him then, convincing yourself that it was necessary to reinforce your cover. You were seen as just a researcher forging deep interpersonal relationships with your fellow coworker and not at all a spy for the government sent to infiltrate a pharmaceutical giant for secrets that could topple a nation.
No one suspected a thing- not Umbrella, not your handlers, not even him. It worked. But it didn’t make you feel any less guilty about it, especially when you developed real feelings for him and he reciprocated them earnestly and affectionately. At first, you meant to play along with no intention of taking him seriously. The Spanish researcher expressed himself as a man who talks a big game but settles down or folds over for no one. He had a reputation within the labs as a serial flirt after all.
However, the day he casually asked you out, he surprised you. Beneath all the playful, charming remarks and practiced come-hither smirks belied a genuine romantic. He was a man passionate about his work, driven by a real desire to help others. He cared about other people, evident at how intently he listened to you when your shared bits of yourself to him. Granted, much of what you said then was fabricated to uphold your secret identity, but he showed unwavering interest in you and the image you created as if you two were only people in that coffee shop that mattered. After one date came another, then another, then another until you lost count. You fell for him and you fell for him hard. And before you knew it, at his suggestion, the two of you moved in together.
It was a dream. A wonderful dream. You couldn’t remember the last time you lived a normal life, let alone someone to come home to. It was such a domestic feeling. To go wit him to work by day then go home together by night to fall asleep in each other’s arms and do it all over again the following morning. To fall into a routine was strange and something you grew affectionately accustomed to. And it was all because of him. He made you feel safe. He made you feel loved. He made you feel normal. But it was only a dream. And all dreams eventually come to an end.
It got to a point where you dug yourself so deep that by the time you had to shed your identity and leave him, it left scars that neither of you would ever recover from.
.
“¿Qué? What do you mean, you can’t?”
“I can’t go to Spain with you.”
“Is it the location? We can go anywhere you want,l, but we have to make sure we hide our tracks from Umbrella-”
“I mean that I can’t go with you. Anywhere. Period.”
“¿Mande? Why.”
“I want to tell you, I really do.”
“…Tú no me quieres.”
“No! Of course I do.”
“Then why? Why can’t you run away with me? I can protect us, you just have to trust-”
“This isn’t about trust.”
“Then tell me what it is!”
“…This isn’t going to work. I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“L-Lo siento, mi corazon. I didn’t meant to shout. We can work through this-”
“Just please remember that what we had was real.”
“¡Amor!”
“Goodbye, Luis.”
.
That was the last time you saw him. You broke his heart, the pieces of yours shattered away with every step that you took away from him. Revisiting those memories all caused a single tear to fall down your cheek.
You have to move on. It’s been long enough. It was all to protect him, you told yourself countless times. In your line of work, attachments just do not (and cannot) stick. And you stuck with that choice without an ounce of regret. You only hope that wherever Luis is now, he’s happy and safe. That alone kept you going.
When you finally broke yourself out of your daze, you found yourself facing a wall. You quietly berated yourself for your absentmindedness again and were grateful for the darkness. Luckily, your fellow agent didn’t notice you or your inner turmoil, something else catching his attention at the end of the tunnel.
“Over here. I found someone.”
Your head snaps towards Leon’s direction, your heartache momentarily dulled and set aside. “Ashley Graham?”
“Don’t know yet,” Leon replies, crouching down. “Here, hold the light.”
You hurry over to the blond’s side, taking the flashlight from him and directing it towards his finding. A large sack, big enough for a person, was flailing about. The sound of muffled struggling reaches your ears. Leon unties the top of the thick cloth before pulling it down. You almost didn’t believe what, or rather, who you were seeing. But your eyes were blown wide in recognition before Leon rips the tape off of their mouth. There was no mistaking those rugged features, that dark hair, and those grey eyes that you fell in love with helplessly so long ago.
It was him. The man that haunted your every thoughts and dreams. The man that dug his way into your heart and made a home there.
Luis Serra Navarro.
“Oh no, not you.”
The man merely gazes back at you, momentarily stunned before chuckling in that husky voice of his that you thought you’d never hear again.
“I’ve missed you too, mi corazon,” he says. His eyes glide over your form lasciviously, uncaring that you (and your partner) can see him staring shamelessly. He looked and smiled at you as if the years spent apart never happened. “Te ves bien.”
Imagine somehow finding yourself in the arms of Leon and Luis in the most inopportune times.
“Yeah, no. I don’t know about this, guys.”
“It’s not that big of a drop. You can do this.”
“Easy for you to say, Leon!”
“Calma, my fine friend. Just close your eyes and remember not to lock your knees.”
“Luis, you are not helping.”
You turn your head at the sound of shouting. Further in the distance, a mob of plaga-infected cultists are sprinting towards you three with torches and pitchforks.
Luis walks forward, waving at you to move. “Go! I’ll take care of them.” Not giving you a chance to protest against this reckless idea, the Spaniard bravely rushes straight at the mob with a stack of dynamite in hand.
Seeing no other option, you approach the edge of the cliff. Just seeing how high up you are and how low the lower ground is was enough to make you hesitate and quake in your shoes. The fear of hurting yourself in the fall outweighing your fear of being mauled to pieces by angry villagers.
“I-I… I can’t-”
BOOM!
The thunderous blast along with the violent tremors beneath your feet shocks you so terribly that you practically leap off the rocky edge with a horrified scream. You realize then that you didn’t position yourself properly. You were free falling with your head facing the sky, hurdling towards the ground without any means to cushion your landing. Anticipating great pain, your eyes shut tight. An involuntary, terror-stricken yelp escapes you when you no longer felt the rush of wind, awaiting your back to harshly collide with the hard ground.
The pain doesn’t come. You didn’t feel any dirt and grovel, but still felt yourself pressed against something hard and firm. You are also suspended, to your surprise, your weight supported by a steady hold beneath your shoulders and knees.
A husky voice calls out to you. “You okay?”
You didn’t realize that you still had your eyes closed, opening them to see a familiar blond gazing down at you. The icy color in his eyes flash with genuine concern. Piecing together that Leon broke your fall by catching you in his arms, your cheeks burn a tinge of pink that does not go unnoticed.
The agent throws you a small grin at your silence, “I’ll take that as a yes. Don’t worry, not going to let anything happen to you. I got your back. Literally.”
There is an unmistakable warmth in his expression, a magnetic glint in his eyes that you couldn’t tear yourself away from. Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. You want to thank him but found yourself at a loss for words. Leon’s gaze switches from your eyes to your mouth then, bright blues lingering. The way he is looking at you, it is like he is placed in a trance. Whether it was done purposefully or he was subconsciously driven to readjust your weight in his hands, the man tightens his hold on you, bringing your chests tightly together.
His lips open slightly, mimicking yours, and it is then did you notice just how close your faces are. You feel yourself falling under the same spell, your senses becoming dizzy from his musky scent and it is as if his entire being is enveloping you. In a way, you are completely surrounded by him. And he seems to be moving closer to you yet, his lips slowly inching forward…
“¡Oye, Yanqui!” Both of you look up in alarm to see Luis yelling, the dark-haired man still at the top of the cliff above. It seems the mob that was pursuing you three no longer posed as a danger as you didn’t hear or see any furious monsters behind him. Luis must have also been observing the interaction between you two as he had an amused expression on his rugged face. You almost swore that you can see a bit of green in his grey eyes. “What about me?”
Leon merely gives the Spaniard a deadpan look. “What about you?”
Luis rolls his eyes, gesturing with arms wide as if what he was hinting towards is obvious. “Would be nice to have a certain Prince Charming break my fall too.”
The blond scoffs. “Sucks to be you,” he retorts, promptly walking the other direction and purposefully moving further away from the cliffside.
You watch intently as Luis’ shoulders slump, the man visibly heaving a deep, defeated sigh before analyzing the height of the drop. He jumps off with a running start and a worried gasp rips from your throat when he doesn’t stick the landing, tumbling about in a not-so-graceful fashion before finally coming to a rest on his side. Your ears pick up the Spaniard groaning curses in his native tongue.
“I think Luis hurt himself,” you comment aloud.
Leon doesn’t bother looking back, his steps maintaing a brisk pace. “Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine.”
The desire to argue with the blond about this was strong, but was quickly dismissed when you spot Luis rising back up to a stand and dusting off his pants. He seemed none the worse for wear. You sigh, a relieved smile easing onto your lips. It drops when you finally register that you are still being carried.
“Uh… Leon?”
The stoic agent acknowledges you with a hum.
“…Think you can put me down?”
You guess that Leon didn’t realize that he was holding you longer than necessary either, the tips of his ears a deep red as he hurriedly helps you back on your feet. He utters an embarrassed apology almost too low for you to hear and you give him a shy thanks in turn, casting your eyes to the ground so that he wouldn’t see your blush blooming again. You didn’t catch the way he beheld you then.
Fortunately, the awkward moment disperses before it could permeate.
Unfortunately, it is because of a gargantuan monster bursting out from seemingly within the mountainside. Upon seeing the three of you, it releases a terrible roar that shakes the very air.
“¡Gigante! Run, amigos!” Luis shouts, catching up to you and Leon. Without warning, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you close behind him as he sprints away.
The giant plaga chases you all through the area for what seems like an eternity. After some time, you feel your lungs and legs start to give out, your feet staggering with each step. Sensing you struggle to keep up the pace, the Spaniard stops abruptly.
You heave with ragged breath, “Luis, we can’t stop-”
He wordlessly sweeps you into his arms with a strength that astounds you. At your surprised expression, the dark-haired man flashes you a toothy grin before running off again with the same quickness he had before. Not once did he stumble or falter.
If the situation wasn’t so dire, you would have berated Luis for his arrogance and him taking on the burden of literally carrying your weight without so much as giving you a say in the matter. However, you were too exhausted to argue. This moment of respite was not relished for very long, though, as the two of you come to a sudden stop once again. The two of you are overlooking yet another high cliff.
You groan in tired exasperation. “You have got to be kidding me!”
Panic grips at your heart, you glance over Luis’ broad shoulder with fearful eyes to see if the monster is still in pursuit. To your astonishment, you see the large beast distracted in one spot several paces away. Distracted by a certain blond who was firing at it relentlessly. Leon was unleashing hell upon the plaga without fear, but the shells seem to only bounce off its hard skin. Despite how ineffective the attacks appear, it is apparently enough to hold the giant’s attention. For how long, you were loathe to find out.
Catching you staring, Leon yells over the gunfire. “What are you two waiting for? Jump!”
Jump?!
You peek back over the edge. There’s a body of water below and terror-filled thoughts ran frantically in your hyperactive mind.
Are the waters shallow? Are they deep? You swear that you can see sharp rocks too. There’s no way any of you can do this and live to tell the tale.
A firm squeeze on your side pulls you from the depths of your increasing panic. You turn your head to see Luis smiling patiently. It is not the playful smirk he often wears but rather it is one that offered nothing but sincere reassurance.
Luis speaks up softly, the seriousness in his thick accent even and irrefutable, “My friend, do you trust me?”
His question didn’t need an answer. You knew what he was implying. And although you were scared out of your wits, you found comfort in Luis’ confidence. There is an unwavering determination is his grey gaze, a silent promise that your safety is assured with him.
His bright smile widens at the sight of your nod and he returns it with one of his own. “Hold onto me.”
You follow his order, wrapping your arms tight around his neck. For the second time, you shut your eyes, bracing for another long fall.
A moment passes.
Two.
Nothing.
You don’t hear yourself being carried further away from the sound of Leon’s gunshots. You don’t feel the rush of wind against your face or your body and clothes submerged in water. Overwhelmed with curiosity, you open your eyes and discover Luis still staring down at you. There is an intense emotion in his silver gaze that you couldn’t place.
“Luis, what’s happening? What’s wrong?”
He tilts his head. “Nada. Was just thinking that at a time like this,” he begins to say slowly, the tone of his voice dropping to depths that sent flutters into your heart, “we could use a bit of good luck. A favor shared between a knight and his intended. What do you say?”
You were going to ask what he was going on about, but the question becomes stuck in your throat when you see his face dip down to yours. Your noses bump at the tips and he inches closer still. You didn’t realize you stopped breathing until your lungs forced you to suck in much needed air, the taste of his breath warm upon your tongue.
Your heart was pounding loudly against your chest, blood pumping through your veins so fiercely that you thought you would faint right then and there. Your mind becomes totally blank and all you can process is the faint brush of Luis’ lips…
Bump!
“Ugh-!”
“Ahhhhh!!”
The sudden jolt of your body rushing forward brings you back to awareness. You’re falling. Again! But it isn’t you that is screaming now. It’s Luis. He’s falling next to you. In the corner of your eye, you catch a pair of gloved hands grasping on both of your forearms.
Three bodies plunge into the chilly waters. You were flailing about, unable to regain equilibrium, and you thought for certain that you were going to drown. But luck was on your side yet again as you’re pulled to the open surface by strong hands on your person. Sweet air then returns to your lungs.
“¡Loco hijo de puta! Were you trying to kill us?!”
“Don’t give me that, I told you two to jump.”
Leon and Luis already had their heads above the water by the time you regained your wits, the two of them arguing back and forth. You tuned out their squabble in favor of searching for the gigante. The monster peering down high above. With a furious roar, it retreats back from whence it came, leaving you three alone for good, and relief washes over you. Looking around, your eyes then find a stretch of land that the three of you could swim towards. You made a move to start paddling to safety, not wanting to linger in case there were more terrors treading about below. Or at least you tried to.
You couldn’t move. Your body was quite literally pressed in between the two men. Their arms circled around you, keeping you afloat and securely in place. You could feel every inch of their hard muscles pressing against your front and back. Despite the freezing chill of the water surrounding you, your body felt like it was lit aflame. The handsome agent and the dashing Spaniard cease their bickering when they hear you gasp.
Leon, who is behind you, looks at the back of your bowed head. His hardened expression softening to that of worry as he called your name. “Are you hurt? We should get you out of the water fast.”
Luis, who is in front of you, observes you with a knowing smirk. His teasing, cheeky demeanor returning tenfold. He was about to say something, but you silence him with a deathly glare.
You totally miss the look of confusion on Leon’s face when Luis starts busting out laughing. Being close to these two is a new kind of dangerous.
Imagine working your first night in the village tavern and serving a drink to a man you catch sitting by his lonesome. He accepts your kind gesture and engages you in conversation. You didn’t realize you were talking to Lord Heisenberg until it was too late.
“Got a tall one with your name on it.”
The silver-haired man simply glances up at you from his seat, bright eyes switching between your smiling face and the full mug you’ve placed in front of him. The bored expression he wore previously relaxes into that of mild intrigue.
“I didn’t order that,” he says, amusement in his deep voice.
You shrug casually, “It’s on the house.”
When he didn’t say anything right away, you proceeded to explain yourself. “Barkeep mentioned you haven’t ordered anything since you got here. I figured I could spot you a round. Hope you don’t find it rude.”
To your surprise, the man chuckles, returning your patient smile with a toothy grin. “Can’t tell if you’re brave or just straight-up fucking strange. But you are definitely interesting, I’ll give you that.”
You tilt your head curiously, unsure of what to make of his comment. Perhaps, this stranger is one of those lone wolf types that rarely engage in social interaction. However, that didn’t seem correct. He seemed more like the type that enjoyed talking, if not just to hear the sound of his own voice. He has such a distinctive voice too, you found, the rich baritone hitting strings inside you that sent shivering notes tingling down your spine. You shudder not out of fear or anxiety, but out of genuine fascination.
The stranger takes the mug you’ve put down for him in one of his hands, lifting it by the handle and bringing it to his lips before tipping his head back. It gave you an opportunity to look him over. As you suspected, he is large in build. Burly and robust but not overly ripped in muscular definition. He looked strong and undeniably imposing, shaped by hard, laborious work. You imagine that if he wasn’t holding the mug at its handle, he could wrap his thick, calloused digits around the cup with ease. The loose shirt he wore had the sleeves rolled up, exposing several wiry scars that adorn the back of his hands and forearms. They varied in length and size, barely faded by time, and matched the old wounds that ran across his rugged face.
Questions danced upon your tongue on how he got his scars, but you thought better of it and bit them down. He looked different from the other men you’ve seen in the village and had a unique air about him too, one that you would be able to immediately spot in a busy crowd. He was quite handsome, in a rough sort of way.
The man must have noticed you staring for when you brought your eyes back up to his, he was already looking right at you. His bright gaze remained locked onto you even as he sets the drink back down with a quenched sigh, a devilish tongue swipes the excess liquid from damp lips before withdrawing behind wolfish teeth. The ends of his mouth tugs upwards, putting his canines into full display. The damn man is smirking again and his eyes had a knowing, teasing gleam to them. Feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, you bowed your head to hide the embarrassment burning on your cheeks.
Suddenly feeling incredibly shy, you take a step back. “I-I’m going to see to my other patrons, then. If you need anything else, just-”
“What’s your name, buttercup?” He cuts you off. There is an edge to his tone, as if daring you to move from your spot before him.
Buttercup? He’s giving you a petname? Is it derogatory or is it a genuine term of endearment? Either way, it made your face burn hotter.
Overwhelmed with the need to answer him immediately, you gave the stranger your name without a second thought. He repeats it in a low, slow drawl as if testing and savoring the sound on his tongue. Your heart picks up speed and you spoke up again in a futile attempt to calm the rapid beating.
“What’s yours?”
Like flipping a switch, the air between you two suddenly shifts. The wide smirk he wore falters and his brows furrow. These few words seemed to have disarmed him as the grey-haired man beholds you with a piercing glare, searching your face for any signs that you are joking or something. You could do nothing but stare back, balancing on the balls of your feet nervously. When he found that you were sincere in your question, he grasps his bearded chin thoughtfully.
“Intriguing,” he comments, his expression deeply pensive. His reply didn’t relieve any of the tension you were feeling and you wondered if you somehow offended him for not knowing who he is. “Are you local?”
Unable to fathom where his line of questioning was heading, you decided that it was best to answer him honestly as you have been doing thus far. “Uhh, yes, of course. Born and raised. Although, I’m not from the immediate area, if that’s what you mean.”
A thick silver brow arches. “So, I take it you’re not the religious sort, then.”
You shake your head. There was no helping the guilt taking root inside you. Clearly this man thinks that his identity should be apparent to you. Thinking about it, he does look sort of familiar but you couldn’t quite place him. You wished then that you paid more attention to the people around you in the weekly sermons.
“Not really,” you rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “I rarely went to church. Not that I don’t follow the black faith, mind you. I just have other priorities. Life can be hard in the village, you know how it is.”
When he didn’t comment on this, you followed up with your own inquiry with the intention of making polite conversation. He mentioned religion, so…
“Are you a pastor?” That seemed like a logical thing to ask. But surely if he was leading the mass, you’d have remembered him right away. Maybe you simply missed each other in passing. You can’t shake the feeling that you do know him somewhere.
A bellowing laugh erupts from his throat. The man bends over on his seat, banging the wooden tabletop with a clenched fist as zealous humor consumed him. You didn’t notice that the rest of the tavern went completely quiet at his spontaneous outburst. When he finally sits back upright, he was in tears.
“Damn, you’re adorable!” He sighs deeply, his grin wide as he wipes the water from his eyes. “Do I look like the kind to give fucking sermons, buttercup?”
Again with the petname. You weren’t bothered by it this time. If anything, you took the lighthearted turn in the conversation as a good sign, pleased to see that the man looked like he was enjoying his time with you. Even at the expense of your embarrassment.
Deciding it best to play along, you returned his good humor with a playful smile of your own. “Looks can be deceiving.”
He scoffs, “Can say that again. Guess not everyone in Miranda’s herd is a sheep.”
You didn’t quite register that. “Excuse me?”
His hand waves off your question dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. You…”, the grey-haired man leans back against his chair, his lopsided smile bordered on teasing. “You get to call me Karl.”
A surprised hum escapes you, you didn’t expect a man so interesting to have such an ordinary name. Thankfully, he didn’t seem offended by the involuntary sound. Remembering you had a job to do, you throw him a courteous nod.
“Nice to meet you, Karl. I really should check on my other customers. Is there anything else I can get you?”
He casts you a playful look, “Are you on the menu?”
Although you were standing still, you nearly tripped over on the spot and tried to save face by quipping back. “Ha ha. Think you’re so smooth.”
Karl shrugs, reaching for the mug once more and inspecting the contents lazily. “I prefer to be rough. But no, I think this will do. For now.”
Your brain shut down after “rough” and you were quick to retreat back to the bar, ears turning red upon hearing his knowing chuckle as you created distance. So distracted by the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside you that you failed to realize that the usual hustle and bustle of the busy tavern was completely void of sound. A loud bang of what sounded like someone slamming their hand against the wood harshly is all that it took to bring life back into the room and the patrons returning to their own devices. This somehow went under your notice too. You did not regain your wits until the barkeep you were working with for the night snapped his fingers in front of your face.
“Oy! New blood! Didn’t I tell you not to bother that one?” he reproached you. Was that panic in his eyes?
You blink back at your distressed coworker. “If it’s about the free tankard, I’ll foot the lei. Everyone else looked like they were having a fine time besides him. That didn’t seem right to me.”
The frantic man shook his head fiercely, “Whether or not he is enjoying himself isn’t any of our business. He could very well be plotting his wrath upon this establishment for what you did!”
The excitement that was bubbling within you before is now replaced by confusion. “Why would Karl do that? Who is he?”
The barkeep’s face falls into that of pure shock. “Are you completely daft!? He’s-”
He chokes. Suddenly, his expression pales to an alarming shade of white. From the corner of your eye, you spot a large shadow looming and felt an imposing presence from your side.
You turn your head to see the man from before standing next to you. But this wasn’t the Karl that you spoke with earlier. He had the same face but wore more clothing- more distinct articles of clothing that made you freeze on the spot upon recognition. Afterall, who could ever miss the signature dirty trenchcoat, or the dark, round glasses, or the well-worn hat of Lord Heisenberg himself? Who dares not recognize one of the four nobles that rule over the village with an iron fist? Evidently you.
He didn’t meet your eyes right away, instead he had a deathly glare directed right at the barkeep who was now quivering in his boots. “Because I’m in a good mood,” the lord began, voice descended into a low growl, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear what you just called my new friend.” Lord Heisenberg then looks down at you behind black lenses, his demeanor shifting from threatening and terrifying to playful and pleasant.
His smile returns, seemingly wider than before, likely because he knows that you know who he is now. “Thanks for the drink, buttercup. I’ll see you real soon.” He pushes his shades down the bridge of his nose, winking at you before tipping his hat in an exaggerated head bow. With heavy footsteps, he takes his leave, not giving a second glance.
Your eyes followed him and lingered on the door he went through long after he left. There was a deafening silence. It filled the tavern for what seemed like an eternity before it was broken by the clanging of the metal tray you once held in your hands.
The lord of steel was here in the flesh. And you were talking to him so carelessly. And he was flirting with you so shamelessly. This was not how you expected your first day on the job to go. And he declared he intended to see you again.
You hear Leon behind you chuckling and glance back at him with deadpan eyes, unamused that he found your struggle funny. The blond maintains a slight grin, unflinching under your glare.
He comments aloud, “It’ll take some getting used to. Imagine using this on moving targets with the wind against your favor.”
You half-heartedly groan at the mere thought, tempted to abandon using the primitive weapon entirely. However, ammo was scarce and crossbow bolts can be reused. Now if only you were proficient in using said crossbow. Sensing your frustration, Leon unfolds his arms and approaches you.
“You’re thinking too hard about it and it shows in your form.” His hands hover around your sides, one by your hands where you held the crossbow and the other at your back. Close, but not touching. Your eyes catch his, an expectant gaze in the pools of icy blue silently asking for permission. You granted it with a nod and immediately you feel the heat of his touch.
“Straighten up,” he instructs, his gloved hand firm against the middle of your back. With purpose, he runs it down your form, applying pressure to encourage you to follow his words. And follow you did, trying your best to hide the shivers that tingled down your spine as you squared your shoulders and puffed your chest. You hoped that he was not looking at your face, surely your cheeks must be burning.
His other hand clasps around yours holding the body of the crossbow steady and lifting, pointing the weapon towards the range. In the corner of your vision, the veiny cords of the powerful muscles in his arm tense and relax at the motion.
What would it be like if Leon held you? You can’t imagine Leon as much of a hugger, but the thought of him embracing you alights within you a new kind of warmth different from your shared body heat.
As you’re forcing your thoughts and eyes to cease their shameless wandering, hot breath tickles against the shell of your ear.
“Remember, you’re not shooting lead. Want to aim a little higher and let gravity do its thing.” Leon’s voice was clear, his explanation straightforward, but the smooth delivery and the reverb of every husky word was like velvet to your senses. You felt yourself slowly leaning closer into him, tempted to be wrapped in his entire being.
Thankfully, you caught yourself, stomping your heel flat on the floor before your back pressed completely against his muscular front. In doing so, your fingers accidentally squeeze the trigger out of panicked reflex. To your dismay, the bolt shoots out of the weapon, flying high across the range. You anticipated failure and prepared yourself to be overwhelmed with embarrassment- but to your genuine surprise, a metallic ping rings in the air. Not only did you hit the target, but your shot struck the medallion that was attached to it right at its center.
“You’re an artist, mate!”
You won’t lie, you actually forgot that the Merchant was watching the entire time, remembering his ever observant presence only when his voice blasts through the speakers in that uniquely rambunctious tone of his.
“Nice shot!” Leon pats your back in praise, bringing your attention back to him.
Your lips curve slightly followed by a casual shrug, “Honestly, it was just dumb luck.”
The man beside you shakes his head, dismissing your sheepish downplaying. “Against what we’re facing, sometimes that’s all you need.” He casts a glance at the felled target before looking back at you. The ends of his lips tug upward, transforming his usual hardened expression into something much softer and distinctly disarming. “A hit like that, though. That’s more than luck.”
Elation fills you, not just from your success, but from the sight of the man’s rare smile. It wasn’t a grin, it wasn’t a smirk, it wasn’t a reaction produced by fleeting amusement. It was a pure, genuine smile full of endearment.
Leon Kennedy, a picture of stoicism, smiling because of you.
You didn’t dare admit to him that you were distracted the entire time, that your shot truly did have nothing to do with skill and your concentration was broken entirely by thoughts revolving around him and his body. It was then did you notice that he still had his hand on your lower back. He must have kept you steady this whole time.
Not wanting to be separated from his warmth in case he realizes your lingering closeness and creates distance out of courtesy, you spoke up. “If I keep getting lucky, I’ll be a better shot than you in no time.”
The blond quirks his brow. “Think you can go toe-to-toe with me now?”
Got him. You smirk playfully, “Winner gets all the tokens!”
“Take them,” Leon scoffs with an exaggerated frown, “can’t get a gold prize for shit.”
You couldn’t hold back your own laughter then, missing how his blue eyes softened in adoration. His downturned lips ease into another gentle smile as he took in how your whole being seems to glow with infectiously positive energy. It is a sight he engraves in his memory before tapping your hands, silently instructing you to raise the crossbow once more. You take the hint, readying to the same position as he showed you before. Without your notice, Leon’s gaze falls onto the back of your head again.
“We’ll think of something else for you, then.” you say as you take aim, breaking the silence. “If you win.”
Intrigued by your playfulness, the handsome blond grins at your challenge with an idea already in mind. “Finish this round and I’ll take you on.”
With that you continued practicing. Leon kept spectating and offering sound advice, not once withdrawing his hand from you. You dragged on this rare opportunity to stay close to him for as long as you could.
Oh God, imagine if Luis ended up reuniting with someone he worked with during his time at Umbrella, and they kinda had a thing going on in secret but ended up going their separate ways when Umbrella finished. And they reunite in Spain.
Sorry, just a daft idea.
Omg bestie, I’ve literally been working on this idea for weeks- are you psychic??
Imagine both Leon and Luis offering you their jackets when you start shivering.
“You cold?”
“A little bit, but nothing I can’t handle.”
You say this with your teeth chattering and it was clear on Leon’s unamused face that he wasn’t buying it. The blonde sighs, hiding a slight smirk before his lips return to his characteristic frown.
“Here,” he says, shrugging out of his thick, fur-lined jacket. In doing so, the strong definition of muscles on his arms and chest came into full display and you couldn’t help but note every sculpted line. Those years of secret government training did wonders for his physique and the tight navy shirt left little to the imagination. Your overactive thoughts nearly run wild when his arms flexed out of his sleeves.
Remembering yourself, you shake your head. “Thanks, but won’t you be freezing?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Leon says with a slight smile, his gentle tone echoing yours when you tried to save face in a surprisingly teasing manner. For as long as you’ve known the blond, he was rarely warm and gentle. His stern, straight-laced demeanor and dry sense of humor often overshadows his kinder, sociable qualities. So to see him so openly considerate was a rare treat. This unexpected side of him stirred feelings inside you that are not at all unwelcome, but you found yourself at a loss for words.
He takes his jacket by the collar and offers it to you with an encouraging look that said that he wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer. You breathe out an air of defeat, reaching towards him. Against your will, your eyes roamed over the thick veins of his strong forearm and bicep appreciatively, and you tried to recover by quickly looking up. That was a mistake. He was no longer wearing a grin, but the heat within his eyes intensifies when they meet yours. You felt your cheeks burning under his knowing gaze.
Your fingertips (unintentionally) brush against his as you grabbed hold of the faux fur and was about to accept the weight of the clothing in your hands until you felt something warm and heavy drop around your shoulders. It took you by surprise and you look over to your side to see Luis standing next to you- sans leather jacket.
The Spaniard had his signature lopsided smile on his handsome face as he adjusted the stitched leather around you, making sure that it would not fall. It gave you an opportunity to look him over as well. You knew he wore a white-buttoned shirt, but now that he wasn’t wearing his jacket, you can see how nicely the fabric fitted on his frame.
For a man who considers himself the brains of your group, he was impressively cut. While Luis wasn’t as strongly built as Leon, he had a lean, well-defined waist that would have otherwise been hidden from sight with his jacket on. The sleeves of the shirt hugs his long arms nicely and his broad frame tautly stretches the thin creases that ran across the fabric, accentuating the exposed portion of his scarred chest. It became apparent to you then that Luis left the few buttons undone for reasons beyond just visual appeal.
The dark-haired man chuckled beneath his breath as he caught you staring. “Take mine, my friend. I’ve kept it warm- just for you.”
“Luis,” you started, trying to keep a straight face, “aren’t you worried about getting sick?” Your consideration came from a genuine place of concern and it showed in your voice, but you couldn’t argue the relief you felt wrapped inside the warmth provided by his jacket. You thought the leather would do little against the chilly weather, but surprisingly, it felt wonderful on you- most certainly because Luis’ heat formerly occupied it and the thought of you surrounded in said heat made your already feverish blush deepen.
“Y no te preocupes por mí.” He assures confidently. “I grew up in these parts. This weather doesn’t affect me one bit, so I insist.”
The man doesn’t give you an opportunity to respond.
“Unless…” Luis pauses for a second, playfulness glinting in his grey eyes. He then steps closer to your front. The movement forces you to reflexively let go of Leon’s jacket, leaving it to hang in the other man’s hand to allow room for the Spaniard to step in between you. Now only Luis stands in your full view, his eyes locking yours, all while maintaining his charming grin. “We come in close. Like this.”
The devilish man wraps a daring arm around your shoulders, nudging you closer to him but not forceful enough where you couldn’t pull away if you wanted to. You subconsciously didn’t want to and allowed him to bring you in, stopping to where your chests are merely a hair’s breath away from pressing against one another.
“This way we can keep each other warm,” he continues with a wink. “A good idea, ¿sí?”
Your ears pick up an annoyed scoff and you look over Luis’ broad shoulder. Leon stood with arms crossed, his bored eyes casted to the side as if finding something interesting in the distance. He already had his jacket back on, much to your disappointment.
Before you, Luis wears an amused smirk, addressing the blond without looking at him with faux intrigue, his focused gaze still resting entirely on you. “Something funny, Sancho?”
Leon ignores the obvious jab, “Just making mental bets on how long you’ll last before you start running your mouth. So far, I’m leaning towards two minutes.”
This made the Spaniard take a step back to turn his body sideways, arm still resting around you. Luis hums thoughtfully.
“Such harsh words for a squire,” he dismisses the counter with a casual shrug, squeezing your shoulder. At the time, you thought it to be a warm gesture, not once detecting the possessive undertones blatantly on display at the action. “Never underestimate a knight’s resilience. Or his endurance.”
If you had paid attention, you would have noticed the two men glaring at one another. You would have caught Leon’s challenging snarl and Luis’ taunting gaze. But no, you were too busy settling into Luis’ jacket, slipping your arms into the sleeves and zipping it closed around your form.
Ashley’s voice calls out to the three of you, announcing that she found something. Without a second thought, you start stepping towards her direction, separating yourself from Luis’ heat. You missed the frown he wore at your absence and by the time you looked back at him, he had on his usual charming smirk.
“Thanks for the jacket, Luis. I’ll give it back, I promise.” You say graciously, causing his grin to widen to a genuine smile. You then stop before Leon, also offering him a grateful look as you patted his chest. It was meant to be an amicable touch but the contact sent jolts of electricity from your palm to your chest. His body exuded an inviting warmth that made you hesitant to withdraw as you spoke trying to keep your voice level. “And I appreciate the thought, Leon. You’re always so reliable.”
You missed the subtle redness in his cheeks then too, willing yourself to give space and continuing to move to Ashley’s location. Both men are left staring after you, longing evident in the pools of silver and blue. After what seemed like an eternity of tense silence, Luis is the first to speak up.
“Dos minutos, mi culo.” He grumbles, a hint of amused irritation in his thick accented voice.
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