Cressie - Tumblr Posts

"You're then whisked away to the car or the privacy of a fire exit, and Leon waits for you to let it out. Sometimes it's crying, sometimes it's blasting music full volume music into your earbuds. Sometimes it's just staring into nothing. Sometimes, it's Leon holding you and rocking you, hand thumping against your back steadily, rhythm even as your breathing calms."

I CANT PUT INTO WORDS HOW MUCH THIS MAKES SENSE LIKE ITS A SENSE OF ANXIETY AND LIKE ALTHOUGH MUSIC MIGHT HELP NOTHING FIXES ME LIKE LEON KENNEDY.

ATE ONCE AGAIN QUEEN

cough - leon kennedy x reader (hurt/comfort)

you find that it's always a cough.

it starts as a cough that won't leave your throat, and then you lose your voice, standing still, vision blurring as you refuse to process it. No. Not now. Never now. It can't be now. You have better things to be doing. this isn't one of them.

You'll just get in the way of things.

Leon notices that it always starts with a cough.

Then, you stay still in a room full of people or alone, and your eyes gloss over. Then, when he makes a move to help, you are back to normal, blinking twice, smiling at him from across the room.

Leon finds that he's oftentimes too late.

"You alright?"

You're always going to say you're fine regardless of what you really feel, so Leon learns to read from your body language. If you continue to blink into nothing, you're fighting it. If you don't blink at all, you're gone. It's not much to pick up on, and he recognizes most of it from his military training, but he also recognizes it because he cares.

"It's getting late, and I wanna have a little alone time with them before the sun sets." He smiles.

You're then whisked away to the car or the privacy of a fire exit, and Leon waits for you to let it out. Sometimes it's crying, sometimes it's blasting music full volume music into your earbuds. Sometimes it's just staring into nothing. Sometimes, it's Leon holding you and rocking you, hand thumping against your back steadily, rhythm even as your breathing calms.

"Better?"

"It should not be that deep." You oftentimes let out that cough stuck in your lungs, and Leon pats your back twice.

"It matters that it is." Leon hums. "Home?"

"Home."

Then, he takes you home for another ritual, cough in your lungs cleared out, this time.

girl who hurt you because goddamn. i will throw hands because no 😭😭 neither you nor pookie bear leon deserve to be sad

ghost - leon kennedy x reader

Leon's lived with grief all his life.

He's used to this.

Closed coffins and darkened attire, Leon stares at the funeral procession, staring down at his notes and blinking. Right. He. He has something to be doing. He has. He has something he needs to do.

"They were a lovely person."

Leon needs to tough it out. He's used to it. He masks, smiling at friends, family, and people that have been in his life ever since that fateful moment, and he sends them all off with a smile and a wave. His exhaustion speaks volumes, but it also seems to ghost over his shoulders.

"We're here if you need us."

Leon should get help. His therapist calls him once a week ever since that awful day, and coffin shopping on his own felt like watching his life crumble before his eyes. This wasn't supposed to be done alone. Picking out a gravestone wasn't supposed to be done alone. None of this was supposed to be done alone. It was supposed to be planned.

When the funeral ends, he returns home, sighing as he opens his mouth.

I'm home ghosts in the air.

He's home.

Where are you?

this was my reaction @idyllcy 🤧🤧 to your recent work. i will be suing thanks for the mental trauma you've given me now ill be walking around thinking about this.

when tje piece of media got you standing in the middle of yr room reenacting this gif

dearest devotion - leon kennedy x deity!reader (nsfw warning) (cont. from this)

Leon finds that you're not much different from the humans, skin soft under his hand, eyes half-lidded as you gasp, head thrown back as he relishes in the opportunity to touch you. He does not know how to touch you, but he goes based on instinct, based on faith. 

"I'll give you a holy body." He rasps.

"Give me that holy body." You gasp.

His fingers tangle with yours in the sheets, devotion bleeding from his skin onto yours, heart melted out of his chest so that it could reach yours. His skin burns from touching yours, lungs burning in his chest unforgiving as his skin is pressed to yours, lashes gentle against your collar as he worships you as he should.

This is better.

His lips pressed to the back of your ear, chest pressed to yours, body one with yours— this is better.

The feeling of you around him until you're chanting his name as though he were the god, the sound of his desperation fills like a hymn at service in the air, prayers of his devotion filling your head under him.

All he knows is to devote himself.

All he knows is to serve you.

no words to express how much i love this but i tried to cram it all into something manageable this is more for me than you because ik you dont got time to read my yapping

He tries not to think of it. He'll be your knight one day, and you'll be the empress. The closest he would be able to stand to you would have been that moment in the hallway, and even had he entertained such thoughts, it would have been impossible. You are not allowed to cheat as the future mother of the nation, and he is not allowed to covet the royal family as a future knight. He has not the luxury, yet the sound of your footsteps leave not his mind.

WHY IS THIS WRITTEN SO POETICALLY HUHHH OK TELL ME THIS MUCH CROWN PRINCESS WHY WOULD YOU SETTLE FOR A LOUSY PRINCE WHEN YOU COULD HAVE KNIGHT LEON.

"Sir Leon." "Princess." He nods back, watching as you rush off, mumbling to yourself, head down. Ah, he should... Leon catches up to you, grabbing you by the wrist as your eyes render him breathless. Shit. "Are you... alright, princess?" He swallows. "Yes." "Positive?" He tries again. You do not seem alright. "Yes, Sir Leon." "I... may not know you, but I assure you I am here if you are in need of assistance."

WIFJOSADFKSAJFIOEWR EERKEKRKEKRKEK THIS WHOLE EXCHANGE WAS SO LIKE YK DO YOU GET IT ITS LIKE LISTENING TO A SONG THAT YOU FORGOT ABOUT YEARS AGO AND NOW YOU’RE JUST LIKE “HOLYYYYY THIS IS SO GOOD” THATS ME RN.

"Most of us can tell, you know?" Luis hums. "You like her." "That'd be funny." Leon hums, adjusting the buttons and loosening the neck area. "I truly do not. Perhaps it is a knight's sense to guard." "We of all people know that she is not one who needs guarding." Luis rolls his eyes. "Don't forget how easily she beat Grandmaster Krauser last year in the tournament without even activating aura." "It does not change that I want to guard the future duke." Luis wiggles his brows in knowing, and Leon can only sigh. "There is no way I would join a rank just to approach the young duke."

sir… are you sure about that one… 🤔

It's drilled through Leon's brain on the first day, and he keeps it in the back of his mind — even when you request that he be your personal guard that same day. Wait. Huh. What. "Are you opposed to it?" Leon blinks down at you, pausing to collect himself, brows furrowing as he thinks over it. "Is there a reason it is me, princess?" "Is it wrong to appoint the best knight in the rank as my personal guard? I fear no one quite rivals your swordsmanship out of all my knights."

no you just want to admire him as he stands all straight and pretty in front of you (relatable)

The smile on the knight's face is more than enough to convince Leon that such sharing will not be necessary. Besides, it would be hard for the duke to appoint him as knight with his background. It would create baseless and useless rumors around you, and it would hinder the chances of you getting married or engaged to other noblemen. Leon is not someone with a title nor a name, so even if he were to find you lovely, he would be unable to do anything. The difference in status was too jarring. He is not in your world, and his duty is to guard, not to protect.

no but throughout this whole like fic ig (?? im sorry) theres a standard theme of just like the differences between high and low society and i feel like you contrast them perfectly in this because its not like they COULDNT be together its just from how he was raised in the society he knows that theres nothing he could do, and the fact you put in his background was amazing because like yes orphan leon is canon but i feel like people make that his personality sometimes you just graced the subject and moved tf on like yes queen keep cooking!!

"An assassin had tried throwing a potion at me. It wasn't much, but it was annoying as is since I had bloodied my nightgown, so I was moved to a single rather than my old room. I miss my roommate terribly, you see." "I trust you miss Princess Ashley very much." He nods. "I do." "Perhaps you should go visit her in the morning?" "I can not, you see... It would put her in danger. Until I am no longer the crown princess, I can not risk anyone... other than you, of course. But then again, you have become a knight of the house, so you are... to be used? That does not sound quite right." "My body is to serve you, princess." Leon nods. "Oh... your words are easy to misunderstand, Sir Leon." Your voice carries mirth when you tell him.

WHY 😭 WHY ARE YOU PULLING AT MY HEARTSTRINGS LIKE THIS HOW IS THIS SUCH FLIRTY BANTER BUT ALSO SO ROYAL AND MAJESTIC

So, even when your engagement is announced as broken off to your family, Leon stays in the corner of your dorm, eyes focused on the window. There is some sort of uncomfortable feeling that he can only describe as instinct, and when the first wave of assassins decide to even step foot into the room, Leon's on their necks. This isn't bloodlust, no. This is some other twisted form of duty, he thinks. He's only protecting you. It has nothing to do with the fact that the guilt of leaving you alone with assassins ate him alive, and that he is somehow trying to compensate for it by letting none of them close to your bed. Someone must have disabled the forcefield while the two of you were away.

FORCEFIELD OK LORE MAGIC I SEE THE WORLDBUILDING?? SO NOT ONLY CAN YOU WRITE AMAZING CHARACTERS AND FLAWLESS PROSE YOU CAN ALSO CREATE WORLDS THAT SEEM BETTER THAN HALF THE FANTASY NOVELS I’VE READ??? ALL IN 10K WORDS GODDAMN.

Even when he wakes and you're resting across from him, your eyes closed, skin warm from the sun's glow, he finds it isn't that bad. He changes out of his clothes, leaving your room after checking the protective field, and he returns, only to find that you're still sprawled out on the couch without a care in the world, nightgown hiked up your thigh as Leon closes his eyes and collects himself. This is a biological response. His duty is to guard, not to touch. So, he calls your name, hand placed on the back of the couch as he watches you stir in your sleep. "Princess, you'll be late to class." He tries again. You stir, grimacing as you roll over after catching a look at him. That's enough to wake you, as Leon takes a step back after you nearly hit him in the chin, and order him out after trying to cover yourself. Your nightgown leaves not much to the imagination, and he follows your order, trying to calm his racing heart outside of your door while you change. This is a biological reaction. This has not to do with the fact that all he has done of late is stick around you and get to know you, and it is not related to the reality that he has gotten to know you rather well and that you are attractive with no betrothed. That is not a factor in why his heart races like this. No. Surely not.

“this is a biological reaction” yup totally you know what else is biological creating heirs for the throne 😏😏

"That would not happen with such ease." He holds his hand out for you, helping you into the carriage as you thank him. "You would not rid of me that easily." "Oh, how romantic." Leon can only step in after you, cheeks red with color, staring out the window as your laughter fills the carriage. Perhaps, but only with you.

ok back to being real here i feel like this whole fic is leon denying things and then regretting them and like he realizes actions have consequences but the whole theme of like “i cant have you” is such YAPPER material because yes i know the point of the fic but can i still complain FUCK YEA.

He is not your equal, and he fears he never might be in this universe. "Princess." Leon nods, delivering the papers your father's aide had told you needed double-checking. You have not had a break since your return. Leon dons a sympathetic smile when you rest your face in your hands. "Will you go out with me tomorrow?" "What for?" "I need to take a walk before I become a pile of paperwork myself." You sigh. "It would be a nice change of pace."

ok so definitely here i can see the shift in like being more comfortable with the reader? he’s more open than he was at the beginning and i can see the difference but there’s also something closed off and you convey that well by leon like degrading himself and comparing himself to you??? idk if you get what im saying but yeah 😓

You show up to his room in the dead of night when he wakes, blinking slowly as he stares at you. What are you doing here? What if you are caught? He pulls you into the room with a closing of his door, heart racing in his chest. This is not alright. He needs to— Leon has no time to think, your lips locked on his as he lets out a sound of surprise, scaring you off, causing you to start pulling away, and everything that happens next is all instinct. Duty be dammed.

YESSSS this literally broke the tension so so so so so so well the screech i let out when i read that last line i swear i morphed into a pterodactyl because HELLO??? 

"I will survive." He hums. "Clause twelve states that they are to swear their loyalty to anyone in the royal family. Considering the knowledge that you are still crown princess until the end of the competition, I have sworn my loyalty to the royal family by proxy."

"Ever the sly one, aren't you." Your fingers scratch at his scalp gently, and he hums.

SEE THIS IS THE WHOLE DEADASS LIKE OPEN LEON HES JUST HIM NOW LIKE THIS IS THE RAWEST MOST PURE FORM OF HIM YOU CAN HAVE AND YOU’RE CAPTURED IT PERFECTLYYYYY AGIFWGHWOAIFSH AUGHGHGHGHH

"You smile so brightly, my knight." "You are free from the shackles of the crown, princess." He whispers, forehead pressed to yours. "I am yours at last." "And if I would not have you?" "I am at your disposal regardless." He hums. "What will the people think?" "Do you care? Must you care? What is there to consider when I am by your side?"

OMG SO THIS WAS PERFECTLY SYNCED BECAUSE HES LIKE “bruh i cant what will everyone say” SO THIS IS THE PERFECT LIKE COMFORT BECAUSE THATS ALL THATS STOPPING HIM AND NOW THE READER TELLS HIM THAT ITS OK SO SHIP ❤️

thats it (future me if you're reading this i hope you have similar thoughts)

you're the risk, i'm gonna take it

word count: 10k || banner art by @wr0wn

warnings: mild violence, mentions of blood

summary: A duty to protect, not touch

The sky is a bright blue the first time Leon Scott Kennedy catches glance of you in the academy.

You're engaged to the crown prince, title of crown princess ghosting behind you whenever you step from left to right, front and back, and it is a title that carries the most weight in the empire. You have perfect attendance in the empire's only academy, perfect scores on every possible subject, the title of Grandmaster piled alongside a variety of other achievements you've attained despite being so young. Leon wonders if the titles bury you alive. You must be some god-reincarnate if you're capable of accomplishing so much in the time that it took for him to even learn the sword.

He meets you in passing, your steps noble and proud as you pass him in the hallway of the academy, but it takes no genius to immediately realize that your aura is more than developed. It's enough to make Leon grimace and slow slightly, but you pause to blink at him as he walks away. He feels your gaze on his back, but without a calling, he isn't obligated to slow down. He feels only slightly guilty, but as a student in the faction of the royal family, he isn't obligated to greet you despite your status as crown princess. You aren't the empress yet. Keyword, yet.

So, Leon continues on his way, hand on the hilt of his sword unconsciously, knuckles turning white from the grip, only letting it go when Luis points it out.

Huh. How strange.

He tries not to think of it. He'll be your knight one day, and you'll be the empress. The closest he would be able to stand to you would have been that moment in the hallway, and even had he entertained such thoughts, it would have been impossible. You are not allowed to cheat as the future mother of the nation, and he is not allowed to covet the royal family as a future knight. He has not the luxury, yet the sound of your footsteps leave not his mind.

You stay further cemented when rumors of the crown prince's infidelity flutter around the school between the hallways and through even the air. He worries. You seem like you can only handle so much from there, yet you make no move. All the rumors surrounding you dissipate when the truth is revealed, and he finds that even when he spots you at tea with your companions, you react now. If anything, and, dare he say it, you almost look relieved. He tries understanding. Perhaps it is because you are tired of the crown princess training. Or, perhaps you are simply relieved that you no longer have to carry the weight of the world.

He understands not why you are on his mind, but he cares not.

Only when the rumors are proved true does Leon consider changing out of the royal family's legion for your duchy's. He does not appreciate the corruption and foolishness of the crown prince, and if he were to guard with his life of such a careless man, he would be unable to keep his life. He values that still, at the very least. So, he applies for a change, and a chance to enter into a duchy's knighthood. Yours is the hardest to enter, but he does not lack the skill.

His request is turned in and processed, but he requires a final meeting with the emperor to assure his loyalty. So, he is told to wait for his letter, his day passing slowly as he listens to the gossip amongst the knights of how the crown prince was cheating on the crown princess with a commoner girl. Leon ignores it for the most part, but the insults hurled from one person to the next cause him to tune the vast majority of them out. At the very least, they do not seem to be blaming you for the prince's infidelity.

When the emperor calls for an audience with him, he arrives slightly earlier than invited, and he is told to wander around the palace until the emperor is ready. So, he wanders through the portraits and ornaments, glancing at the stained glass in so many of the hallways, wondering if you had ever— why is it you? Does it have to be you? How can it not be the crown prince? Perhaps he is curious of you. Perhaps, just perhaps, he is slightly invested in you. You are quite intriguing, whatever that might mean to him at the time.

When it is time, he arrives at the grand hall, pulling on the door just as you stumble through, the sight of you causing him to blink.

"Sir Leon."

"Princess." He nods back, watching as you rush off, mumbling to yourself, head down.

Ah, he should...

Leon catches up to you, grabbing you by the wrist as your eyes render him breathless.

Shit.

"Are you... alright, princess?" He swallows.

"Yes."

"Positive?" He tries again. You do not seem alright.

"Yes, Sir Leon."

"I... may not know you, but I assure you I am here if you are in need of assistance."

Leon watches as you rush off, and he knows not of what just possessed him, but he knows that he is there if you are in need of him. Why would he be there if you are in need of him? Why would he. He blinks at his hand as your footsteps fade into the corridor. Huh. You're much frailer than he thought you'd be. Even if your aura was somewhat suffocating, you are still smaller than he. He wonders what your ability is.

"Sir Leon?"

"Yes." He nods, stepping into the throne room as the crown prince leaves with the girl.

He shouldn't entertain those thoughts.

The change from the royal family to the dukedom is seen as a downgrade by many of his fellow knights. He's asked if there is a specific reason, but Leon cannot truly name one that does not have to do with you, so he settles with telling everyone that he would much rather serve someone who is so-called pure than someone who has the heart to commit infidelity despite being betrothed to someone. The people in his legion understand for the most part. Luis, though has other ideas, winking at Leon when his new uniform arrives, wiggling his brows as Leon tries out the uniform.

"It's for la princesa, isn't it?" He wiggles his brows, looking from behind Leon as the latter rolls his eyes.

"It is not."

"Most of us can tell, you know?" Luis hums. "You like her."

"That'd be funny." Leon hums, adjusting the buttons and loosening the neck area. "I truly do not. Perhaps it is a knight's sense to guard."

"We of all people know that she is not one who needs guarding." Luis rolls his eyes. "Don't forget how easily she beat Grandmaster Krauser last year in the tournament without even activating aura."

"It does not change that I want to guard the future duke."

Luis wiggles his brows in knowing, and Leon can only sigh.

"There is no way I would join a rank just to approach the young duke."

The first day upon meeting the knights, he's thoroughly chewed out by the general because of the rumors he transferred to court you. He denies it, but he is told to keep his distance nonetheless. Well-regarded knight or not, everyone was equal under the dukedom, and no one was to even dream of having their hands on the future duke. It is their duty to guard, not to touch. The only kind of contact they were allowed to do was one to protect, not to have.

It's drilled through Leon's brain on the first day, and he keeps it in the back of his mind — even when you request that he be your personal guard that same day.

Wait. Huh. What.

"Are you opposed to it?"

Leon blinks down at you, pausing to collect himself, brows furrowing as he thinks over it.

"Is there a reason it is me, princess?"

"Is it wrong to appoint the best knight in the rank as my personal guard? I fear no one quite rivals your swordsmanship out of all my knights."

Leon blinks. He knows not why he hesitates, but he ponders over just what he should listen to. His mind? His heart? That strange emotion that's been driving him up a wall upon meeting you all that while ago? It's incredible, he thinks. He has lost all sense of reason simply because he has met you. Yet, the words of the general force him to stay grounded, mentioning that perhaps it would have more of a misunderstanding if he were to prove himself as a worthy contender to be your personal guard. He can not risk ruining your reputation. It would be cruel of him.

"Perhaps a recommendation from the general himself?" Leon nods. "A recommendation from anyone that is not you, princess. With all due respect. I have vowed to protect your purity until it is time, for it is my duty as one of your knights."

"I see." You tap your cheek. "Then, from my father would suffice?"

"Perhaps."

"I shall let the duke know of my idea."

Leon grows flustered at your bow, telling you to stand up and that as your knight, he deserves not your kind gesture. He is new in the rank, not even an old knight. He deserves not that honor from you, yet you shake your head. You tell him it is nonsense for him to believe that he is not of equal rank as you because you are a noble. You are a knight as well, he remembers. Yet, he is not the grandmaster that you are, so he still does not deserve it.

"If the duke appoints it, you shall listen?"

"Of course, your highness."

Leon watches as you spin on your heel and leave.

Surely, the duke would be opposed to such an idea.

Leon goes back to his day-to-day schedule, adapting and getting along with the rest of the knights, listening as they whisper to each other and him of how dazzling you are, and how there would have been plenty of knights in the rank that had applied in order to get a second look at the young duke. Leon cannot refute their words, as you are attractive, but he does not add fuel to the fire, listening to their rambling instead, hearing of rumors left and right of different people.

"Leon, what are your thoughts? Surely you transferred because you found the young duke attractive?"

"On the contrary, it was because I did not wish to serve a cheating crown prince." He stares at the wooden stein in his hand, at the gold of the beer that haunts him back. "The dukedom was the next best legion."

"Truly not because you covet the young duke?"

"You know, with a face like his, surely seducing the young duke is an easy feat."

"He just has to show up shirtless in front of the princess once!"

Leon does not answer to their words, wondering if you are used to such whispers behind your back. It had always been "the crown prince is so lucky to have such an attractive princess as his betrothed" and never how much you had accomplished. He would not know that idea, but perhaps your role as a woman in this world was similar to him being a commoner in another. But of course, it would be hard to compare the life of a princess to that a commoner, regardless of gender orientation. He has not the luxury, and he is aware that you do not either.

"Leon, I heard the duke is considering having you guard the princess. Tell us all about it, will you?"

The smile on the knight's face is more than enough to convince Leon that such sharing will not be necessary. Besides, it would be hard for the duke to appoint him as knight with his background. It would create baseless and useless rumors around you, and it would hinder the chances of you getting married or engaged to other noblemen. Leon is not someone with a title nor a name, so even if he were to find you lovely, he would be unable to do anything. The difference in status was too jarring.

He is not in your world, and his duty is to guard, not to protect.

When the duke calls him in for a meeting, he can only assume that you have somehow convinced the duke to let him guard you.

"The young duke mentioned it to you, I believe? I have decided to let them proceed with it." The duke nods. "Though, you have the choice to turn down the offer."

"I would not dream of it, duke." Leon bows, and he is dismissed.

He wonders how you did it, but not too much when he knocks and enters your room, standing to the side as you finish tying your tie, tilting your head at Leon as he greets you in the morning.

"Princess."

You are always a sight to behold. The title of heir suits you, and your posture is perfect, elegance and grace radiating off of you, uniform perfect on your body. There is an air that only certain nobles carry, and it is without a doubt that you are one of them. Leon finds that those with such an air are more tolerable than those without. There is a certain education that those who are aware of their position hold. You know perfectly where you stand.

"Good morning, sir." You smile. "Has the duke summoned you?"

"Yes." He nods. He's quite impressed that you managed to convince the duke, but he's also curious what had driven the duke to do such a thing. Perhaps you would let him know—

"I got ambushed two nights ago, you see."

Leon blinks, sure that he has just heard you wrong. "Pardon?"

"An assassin had tried throwing a potion at me. It wasn't much, but it was annoying as is since I had bloodied my nightgown, so I was moved to a single rather than my old room. I miss my roommate terribly, you see."

"I trust you miss Princess Ashley very much." He nods.

"I do."

"Perhaps you should go visit her in the morning?"

"I can not, you see... It would put her in danger. Until I am no longer the crown princess, I can not risk anyone... other than you, of course. But then again, you have become a knight of the house, so you are... to be used? That does not sound quite right."

"My body is to serve you, princess." Leon nods.

"Oh... your words are easy to misunderstand, Sir Leon." Your voice carries mirth when you tell him.

Leon realizes the weight of his words, backing up gently. "I... did not mean that kind of use. My apologies, princess."

"It is nothing. Worry not." You smile.

Leon follows you around the campus, his classes never overlapping with yours, dutifully lingering around you, nodding at you when you have lunch with Ashley and Ada, sat to the side where he can still see you, but having lunch with Luis. He's sure that he needs to keep a sharp eye on you, but all he can seem to hear is Luis talking about how he's grown to be the princess' favorite.

"She quite likes you, eh?"

"I do not know what you're talking about." Leon bites into his meal, giving Luis an unamused stare.

"You're always so mean to me." Luis sighs.

"You insist on teasing me over something that is not reality."

"I fear it is reality, only you do not realize." Leon sighs, taking another bite.

"There is no amusement in tha—"

Ada's voice breaks Leon from his eating. "Leon!"

It's a knight's instinct — to protect. Leon's sword is out almost immediately, the girl is tackled to the ground as Ada stands in front of you, sword held up in front of her as he waits for your order. He does not have time to ponder over whether or not this was a decision of logic. His use to you is to serve. His duty is to protect and not touch. Regardless of who it was, he was not to let any harm come your way.

"Princess?"

"She tried pouring hot water on me."

Leon listens as your footsteps stop next to him.

"What would the crown prince think? If he were to find out that his beloved was out bullying the crown princess?"

The hand on his shoulder indicates for him to let go, and he obeys, stepping off of the girl as she coughs and sputters excuses.

"It was an accident!"

"Quite the opposite." Ashley raises a brow from the table. "Both Dame Ada and I saw you sneak up behind her to pour the water. Perhaps be more discreet if you decide you do not value your life."

"P-princess—"

"Save it. If my foolish brother wishes to squander his position for some commoner girl, then so be it. It is not as though we do not have other siblings." She waves her hand, and the girl rushes off.

You laugh. "I'm fine. Ada reacted quite efficiently. Perhaps you should be my personal knight instead?"

Ada shakes her head. "Unfortunately, I am tied to my current house. I have taken the oath already."

"I see. I forget that you are our senior oftentimes. You will be gone soon."

Leon glances at you as you sit back down, exhaling as you do.

"You make it sound as though I will pass." She rolls her eyes. "Sir Leon, thank you. You're free to return to dine."

"Princess?" He must check on you one final time.

"Please dine, kind knight. I must as well."

"Then, with pleasure."

Leon finds that your day-to-day life is full of harassment attempts. He can no longer count on his hands how many times someone has attempted something to you, and he ponders if this is simply the result of your breaking off of the engagement or the jealousy of the crown prince's partner. From what he has gathered from your tea times with your friends, there isn't much you like about the crown prince. You find him to be someone who is just... your betrothed. You tell the girls that you only look forward to the day that you could perhaps develop a personality of your own outside of the title of crown princess.

You afford not the luxury that a typical noble should, at least not when it comes to your actions.

So, when Leon is sent off with the princess in his arms in a hurry, he's apprehensive to leave you all alone in the garden. If something were to happen to you, then it would be his fault, so he wastes no time in telling the nurse that the princess is poisoned, and leaving her ladies in waiting with her. He makes haste, hopping out a window and rushing down the hall to make sure that you have not fallen. It takes not a genius to know that the goal of isolation was to kill, so he's relieved to find that you've killed three of the four men already. He stabs through the spine of the final one with his sword, and you nod at him for his service. Though, for him, he really did none. You had taken care of the majority of them.

"You got blood on your clothes, princess." Leon fishes out a handkerchief for you, and he watches you try wiping your face before you just huff and tell him to do it for you.

Leon's careful not to press too hard, hand cupping your face while the other wipes gently. He tries ignoring the way you blink up at him with a smile on your face, the unfamiliar feeling of his heart racing in his ears from someone rather than a fight uncomfortable. He worries that his fingers are too calloused for your skin, but you do not complain while he wipes. When he finishes, he pockets the handkerchief, taking a step back as you give him a nod in gratitude.

"Are you alright?"

"I am quite alright. Nothing a little knight training could not handle." Leon watches you stop in your steps. "Dare I say, it was cartharic."

"My apologies for leaving, princess. I shall stay next time."

"Those ladies in waiting could not have taken care of the princess in the time that it took for you to carry her over. I sent you off. It was not your fault."

The guilt still stays, though.

So, even when your engagement is announced as broken off to your family, Leon stays in the corner of your dorm, eyes focused on the window. There is some sort of uncomfortable feeling that he can only describe as instinct, and when the first wave of assassins decide to even step foot into the room, Leon's on their necks. This isn't bloodlust, no. This is some other twisted form of duty, he thinks. He's only protecting you. It has nothing to do with the fact that the guilt of leaving you alone with assassins ate him alive, and that he is somehow trying to compensate for it by letting none of them close to your bed. Someone must have disabled the forcefield while the two of you were away.

The first wave of assassins fall, blood on the ground, barely putting up a fight. Leon stares out the window, and it just so happens to be a strategy to exhaust him rather than kill him. Whoever sent these men out must love to assume things about people. It's a shame that his aura fed on blood. The second wave is wiped out, and Leon feels himself sweating through his clothes by the third, the blood already more than annoying to wipe from his face, and when the fourth wave arrives, he decides that it'd be much easier to just plummet them all to their deaths through the window.

The dorm reeks of blood by the time that he is gone, and he's sure to wipe his hands free of the fluid before kneeling by your bed, resting his head on his sword, breathing labored. He's sure the gold of his hair has become brown from blood, and that his skin has become stained with red. Perhaps he would scare you if you were to wake, but he can not keep up appearances in this state. He's exhausted. He would need rest, and it helps not that he is stuck on one knee at the side of your bed with a bloodied sword. He takes the moment to breathe, eyes closing only when he no longer hears the footsteps of people.

He's sure he's a sight to behold right now. Stuck on one knee at the foot of your bed, sword resting on the ground, sweat and blood visible in his hair, eyes closed as his breathing's labored. The sound of thunder outside of your windows adds to the ambiance, and Leon worries that he might scare you, eyes only opening to check that you're still breathing. There has to be at least one more round. He's sure of it. He's just waiting for it to happen. He can not rest until his instincts tell him that you are safe. His duty is to guard. He must spare nothing of himself in order to keep you safe.

When the final assassins attempt to break in, Leon doesn't bother fighting the traditional way, blue eyes glowing in the dark as the blood on him forms a sword. Truly, they do not pay him enough to deal with this. Yet, he endures it all, the blood in the room cleaning itself to form into his sword, the final two assassins halting at the art. Leon allows himself two hits. One for each assassin, and he upholds his words, both of the final men falling to the ground, the red of his sword staining his arms, sword collapsing into the ground when he finishes, the exhaustion finally allowed to slither through his body, kneeling on the ground at the foot of your bed as you stir.

"Did I wake you?" He looks up at you, sure that his eyes look tired.

"Knight, are you alright?" You take the handkerchief on your bedside, motioning for Leon to look up at you, wiping the blood and sweat from his face as he exhales, nuzzling into your hand.

"My duty is to guard, princess. It matters not whether or not I am alright." He whispers. "Though, I thank you for cleaning my face. I can not leave you even for a moment."

"Perhaps I shall assign a second knight? It is exhausting to be like this, no?"

"Just let me rest my eyes once the magicians arrive. I will be alright." He whispers.

"Rest on the couch, my knight."

Leon lets you lead him to couch, following your hands as you have him lay down, blinking slowly at you sitting on the other couch, eyes only daring to close once the magicians restore the forcefield. He's out after that, exhaustion wracking through his bones. He's glad he had decided to stay up this time rather than return to his quarters to rest. The couch is uncomfortable, but when he wakes and the sun peeks past your curtains, he finds that it's not that bad. He had a full night's rest, and it seemed that you had fallen asleep across from him

Even when he wakes and you're resting across from him, your eyes closed, skin warm from the sun's glow, he finds it isn't that bad. He changes out of his clothes, leaving your room after checking the protective field, and he returns, only to find that you're still sprawled out on the couch without a care in the world, nightgown hiked up your thigh as Leon closes his eyes and collects himself. This is a biological response. His duty is to guard, not to touch. So, he calls your name, hand placed on the back of the couch as he watches you stir in your sleep.

"Princess, you'll be late to class." He tries again.

You stir, grimacing as you roll over after catching a look at him.

That's enough to wake you, as Leon takes a step back after you nearly hit him in the chin, and order him out after trying to cover yourself. Your nightgown leaves not much to the imagination, and he follows your order, trying to calm his racing heart outside of your door while you change. This is a biological reaction. This has not to do with the fact that all he has done of late is stick around you and get to know you, and it is not related to the reality that he has gotten to know you rather well and that you are attractive with no betrothed. That is not a factor in why his heart races like this. No. Surely not.

Leon's not supposed to return to the duchy with you, so when the duke summons and makes known that Leon will be returning to the mansion in the east with you, Leon agrees, though apprehensive. He has not much to pack, so he makes do with a singular suitcase, packed before he knocks on the door to your room, let in with a single command from you. He watches as you smooth out your clothes and help the maids, only letting go once your personal maid tells you hands off. You comply, though Leon catches a pout on your lips as he steps next to you.

"Are you all packed, princess?" He steps behind you, glancing at the briefcases.

"Yes." You take one final look at the room, tilting your head at Leon. "And you?"

"I have not many belongings." He nods.

Leon finds that you truly do not do much. You attend classes and linger around his in the afternoon, choosing to stick by Ada instead of him but still glancing his way, making him wonder. Yet, he has not the luxury to think what your stolen glances mean, since even if they were to mean something, he would not be able to act upon your preferences. He has not the luxury, and neither do you. Even if all he can think of is your bare skin and how your lips would taste, he has not— he needs an ice bath. Preferably now, but he truly should not be thinking of you in such a way. His duty is to guard, not to touch.

"You graduate the incoming year, correct?"

Your words break him from his trance, blinking slowly to come back to reality.

"Sir Leon, if you'd like, I can—"

"Yes, princess." He smiles. "My apologies. I've been lost in thought more and more often lately. You were saying?."

"I was just going to say that if you no longer wish to guard me, I can let the duke know to return you to the knight's quarters. I imagine it must be hard guarding me at all times."

"I... it's quite alright, princess. I do nto find that it is a burden. Rather, you make it so that I am comfortable guarding you." Leon assures you. "Though, if you wish to change guards, I am not against such a change."

"I would not dream of it, Sir Leon. I am glad that you do not find me a nuisance. I was worried that night had made you change your mind, you see."

"That would not happen with such ease." He holds his hand out for you, helping you into the carriage as you thank him. "You would not rid of me that easily."

"Oh, how romantic."

Leon can only step in after you, cheeks red with color, staring out the window as your laughter fills the carriage.

Perhaps, but only with you.

Huh. With you? Only with you? What is that supposed to mean? He's your knight, he dares not to have improper thoughts of you. Perhaps he shouldspend time away from you if he dares to have such thoughts. He can not act upon them, and even though he had not accounted for the fact that he could have fallen for you like this, he finds that the warmth on his skin from your touch will never be unwelcome. How sickening of him to even have such unwelcomed thoughts of you. What is the point of coveting him if his duty is to guard? There is no way he would ever get to feel the touch of your skin outside of escorting and protecting.

Yet, it keeps him up at night, the moon in his eyes as he blinks up at it, in the knights' quarters rather than outside your door, unused to being far away from you for so long. He should not know this feeling. He should not understand what it is to covet and like your master, yet he is not immune to it, finding that perhaps this will end terribly for him once you are engaged to another man once again. He has not the choice, nor the luxury. So, he is stuck greeting you in the mornings, following you around and accompanying you to your day-to-day, guarding your door while you take care of the matters of the mansion, stationed to the side when you dine.

He is not your equal, and he fears he never might be in this universe.

"Princess." Leon nods, delivering the papers your father's aide had told you needed double-checking. You have not had a break since your return.

Leon dons a sympathetic smile when you rest your face in your hands.

"Will you go out with me tomorrow?"

"What for?"

"I need to take a walk before I become a pile of paperwork myself." You sigh. "It would be a nice change of pace."

"And not in the garden which you so willfully manage?"

"I want not a breath of air down in the streets while I can still afford it. One day I will be cursed to stay inside at all times. I can go alone if you do not wish to."

"Princess, are you planning on sneaking out?" He raises a brow.

"Perhaps..." You try and change the subject. "Is there a reason you insist on calling me princess? I am the young duke, you are aware?"

"I am, but it changes not that you are a princess until the official title of duke is given to you."

Oh, is that too direct?

"Am I your princess, my knight?"

Guess not.

"Who else would be?"

"Perhaps your lover? You are getting to that age, after all. Have any of the knights caught your eye?"

"It would be improper to court anyone in the same house as I, but it would be concerning to court someone from a house that is not mine. Time will tell." Leon shakes his head. Though, not that he covets someone else. He'd argue that coveting his master is the worst thing.

"I find Dame Ada quite attractive."

"It changes not that she has no interest in anything other than her blade." Leon thinks of all the rumors surrounding the female knights in the royal legion.

"Reasonable. Ugh, I must start considering the noblemen again. Father sent letter to make haste."

Leon finds himself curious of such. Noblemen were always easier to become than noblewomen when you were a commoner. Dare he entertain the thought, perhaps he would be able to... he dares not to complete that thought. It would be blasphemy for him to. He cannot fathom becoming someone of that importance to you as your knight. He might never become someone of that importance to you.

"Princess, what would make a man a nobleman?"

"Noble blood, or someone who holds a title of Grand so and so. Grandmaster knights and Grandmaster mages are both considered nobility under the law." You pause. "Perhaps you should go become the new Grandmaster in the knight tournament later in summer. I'd let you go for that reason."

"And for what reason would I have to become a grandmaster?"

Do you share the same sentiment?

"Oh, my apologies." You laugh, scratching your cheek. "It was just a suggestion. It would be nice to tell my father that I'll decide after the knighting tournament, after all. You made it quite far last time."

"You have the title of grandmaster as well, no?" He tilts his head.

"I do." You hum. "Which is why it would be nice to be guarded by one."

"I see."

No other reason, then.

"Will you reward me if I win?"

"If there is something I can give, then of course. It would only be fair for me to reward my loyal knight, no? Then, I shall arrange for someone to take over your role after tomorrow."

Then Leon believes that he should. After all, if he were to fight a grandmaster and last an adequate amount of time, then he would be given the title as well. He needs to defeat or stay standing, and considering the bloodshed in the arena, it won't be long before he can use his aura on the red. He wonders if it'll scare you. He had only ever dared to use it behind your back. Though, you were never really in a position to warrant him to use it other than the darkness of night that one time.

If he's lucky, he'll fight you.

If he isn't, he'll fight his old legion commander.

If he's truly unlucky, he'll fight someone he's never met before.

Though, that wouldn't be much of a deal.

He follows you out the following day, nodding at you as you hand him skewers from night markets and other treats. You attempt to explain that your version of splurging was having commoner food, but Leon finds that it is a hard sentiment to share. He does not understand, but he does not mind all that much. He keeps you safe, sticking behind you as you kick your legs at the festival. He finds it quite nice. It was a break that was much needed for him as well despite the role of your guard on this excursion.

"Have you considered who to train with?" You tilt your head, tossing your skewer into a bin.

"I have not, princess." Leon shakes his head.

"Shall I train you?"

Leon believes that truly it would be better to say no, but he finds that he has not that ability, agreeing instead. He's sure that he might get distracted or worse, but he finds that you mean it when you say train. Leon doubts Krauser ever trained him this harshly. You train with him, running matching his as you complete paperwork during his breaks, and Leon wonders if he's underestimated you. Perhaps you didn't need him to protect you that night. Had he not been there, you might've wiped them out much quicker than he did.

Yet, he spares no extra thought, catching his breath after a run that he's too tired to think over. He's stuck there breathing and catching his breath all while you lean against the pole to look over the remaining papers of the day. You must be made of steel. Leon can hardly keep up with your training, yet you pass through it with a breeze, having even the energy to do paperwork afterward.

"Princess, do—" He heaves. "do you not tire after the runs?"

"Nothing is as awful as the endurance training I received for the title of crown princess." You finish with the task. "Now, shall we do another lap?"

"Princess." He gasps. "Please let your knight rest."

"One might get the wrong notion at your words, Sir Leon." You hum. "Take a break. Would you like something to drink?"

"Just air." He sits on the stone pathing and falls back, resting on the ground and staring at the sky. He finds that he must receive the title of grandmaster. If he does not, he fears you might end up in a toxic cycle with a man who cares not for you, and as your knight, his duty is to guard you. What better way to guard you from the horrors of others if not by guarding you in every way possible? If your purity is guarded, then you can rest until you graduate.

After you graduate, surely, you shall fall in love with someone and wed.

So, Leon continues with each day of his, enduring your training in the morning and resting at night to the thought of you. He wonders if this is a form of treason — to like one's master. Yet, he dares not to speak up, daring not to do something that could ruin his chances of ever seeing you ever again. Though, the only visible change in himself that he notices by the end of it all is that he has grown larger in stature. If he had been alright for a knight before, then he would have been far better as one now. He has you to thank for that, he supposes.

You leave for the tournament with him.

Leon helps you onto the carriage, listening to you ramble of how the duke was rushing you for marriage, asking if you had plans to respond. You shake your head at him, and Leon settles for talking to you, trying his best to calm his anxiety. The adrenaline would overtake it once at the tournament, but until then, he would be stuck feeling anxious over baseless things. Speaking with you was always a welcome activity for him. However, only with you.

Perhaps he would learn to be more honest with himself.

The ride itself is nothing remarkable, green passing before it returns to the streets of the capital, bustling roads and busy people. The knight tournament was a big event, and it was open to all who wished to come. It was a display of power, and it was an act of variance to the people. Leon knew well that the emperor only hosted these tournaments in order to knight only the strongest of men. Yet, there are still century-old loopholes that could be abused with the right amount of talking. Everything could be learned if you were smart enough.

When he arrives, he is sure to escort you to your lodging before he returns to his own. You follow for the sake of knowing, and Leon takes you there. It is a small upgrade from the previous year, but it would still be better if he were to move up. Your lodging was much nicer than his, so it would only make sense for him to aim for such. After all, even if he were to not do it for himself, he must do it for you.

You had spent so much time taking care of him so it was only fair that he would take care of you in return.

Maybe he did love his own master, but was it such a sin to partake of the tree that nurtures you?

Leon says his goodbyes to you, and he finds that the first handful of days have not too much of an effect on him. It is the same old, blades clashing and metal making sound, clangs of sound in the arena as people are knocked down again and again. It isn't all that new to Leon anymore. You had far more strength than necessary, and you had never once gone easy on him. He lasts a long enough time against you, but there was no guarantee he would in the tournament. The exhaustion from multiple days of battle would wear him down by the final day.

Yet, he ends up in the semifinals with multiple of his old comrades, apologizing gently before he knocks them out one by one, standing in the middle of the arena as one of the final knights left. His breathing is labored by the end, the defeat of seven other knights enough to warrant him to start considering whether he would survive the battle the next day. Yet, he is announced as victor, exhaustion deep in his bones as he looks up to where the grandmasters are seated. They must pick someone now.

Leon ponders if this is some strange sense of invincibility simply because he had chosen you as his master. Yet, he dares not to think it, watching as the grandmasters discuss amongst themselves over who would fight him. You can not fight him, you had mentioned, since you had been his master. You stand on the side, watching the rest of the people discuss, and Krauser is eliminated since Leon had been his pupil. Leon is finally chosen to duel with Sir Albert, but there is little to no chance to win against him. He simply has to outlast the other knights who have also made it so far.

You do not visit him for the time being, so he recuperates in his room, resting well and stretching to remove the soreness, heeding your words on staying hydrated before the battle itself. When he is called, he is notified that the previous knight had lasted a total of forty minutes. Leon is told that in previous years, winners had lasted well over an hour of continuous battle. He lasts forty at most when in battle with you, and he had hardly any faith in himself that he would last longer when battling Sir Albert. He drew the short end of the stick, yet he ponders if he truly did. Out of the final knights, he could not place himself in any position that he could guarantee that he would win.

Yet, even if he were to die in the battle, he must die trying.

Leon bows at the knight as they stand on opposite ends, and he fights. Drilled into his body by your training, he is capable of predicting typical movement based on posture, but he is not prepared for the sheer strength and deceptiveness that his opponent hones. He receives a blow once or twice, and he has little to no time to think over the timer at the speed of his opponent. His blade clashes more times than he can count, ducking and flipping back when there are too many close calls.

Leon learns to stomach the hits, blade no longer enough as he feels his wounds, cuts strewn on both his arms and face, too many close calls for comfort, yet none on his legs. He learns to dodge as he fights, realizing that kicks to the knight's legs mean little to nothing. Leon would have to dodge and duck. When he steps back, the blade is oftentimes thrust at his stomach, so Leon learns to have his blade meet it, twisting it in one motion to force it downwards so he can stumble his opponent.

Once the other knight picks up on this, Leon learns to use different strategies, kicking and spinning, blade an extension of his body as he fights. The blood from his body eventually pools into his blade, aura bright red as his blade rusts the grandmaster's, wondering if he would have the ability to defeat the grandmaster before he would get to activate his aura. There was not one soul who knew not that Sir Albert's ability made his blade unbreakable. He would have to make up his lack of stamina in strength, and he truly only had one chance to do so. Before the grandmaster made his blade unbreakable rather than his body.

It mattered not whether or not Leon had injuries, but it mattered whether or not he could break his opponent's blade. He knows not the time, so it would be in his best interest to do so.

So, Leon focuses all of his energy on a final strike, blood swallowing his opponent's blade, leaving it in pieces as he stumbles backwards, breathing labored as he listens for the blare of his victory. It has been far too long. He has been stuck fighting his opponent for far too long. He is exhausted to the bone, a form of exhaustion that he had only felt once. He despises this exhaustion, yet he must pull forth. He wonders if the blood will be enough, or if he will be stuck riding the effects of his adrenaline in order to win.

He is left exhausted when his opponent simply forms the sword once more from the broken pieces.

He prepares to start again, stumbling back as he breathes, blood rushing to his head as Sir Albert stops to stare up at the time. Time slows for Leon, sure that he is far too exhausted to continue fighting, body weight supported by his blade as he gasps, sure that he is nauseous beyond repair. He feels as though he could empty the contents of his stomach from the past four days just from how awful he feels. He forces himself to focus anyway, eyes glued to the grandmaster as he registers the words.

"One hour and twenty minutes." The grandmaster announces. "In addition, you have broken my blade. Sir Leon, congratulations on winning your battle."

Leon gasps for air, fatigue visible all over his face as he gasps out thanks to the grandmaster, forcing himself up despite the pain in his muscles, bowing at the grandmaster before stumbling to the barracks to lie down. He sits in the back as he watches the next knight step up to the podium, no longer caring. His case was finished, and the grandmaster himself had announced that he won his battle. All that was left was to wait and recover. There was no more he could do.

The final knight of the day fights you, and Leon gets to watch as you spin and dodge, avoiding as many attacks as you could, wearing out your opponent before you consider using your own strength. You had been exhausting to fight simply because you had read your opponent easily. So to watch you battle in such a way was a breath of fresh air. He is capable of predicting most of your movements based on the way you spin off of your blade. In addition, the metal of your blade did not know to rust.

At the fifty-minute mark, Leon watches as you finally switch to the offensive, the knight fighting you far too exhausted to block all of the attacks, falling to his knees from exhaustion as you count down, battle declared finished just short of the one-hour mark. He knows not of the rest of the knights, but the announcer would declare the winner after a short break. Leon finally stands up, stretching as he groans, muscles decompressing as he does. It feels like heaven, and when he stretches further, he finds that he feels much better.

The rest of the knights wait anxiously, uncertain of who would win. Leon had been lucky to know the knight before him's time, but not everyone was fortunate enough to overhear such conversations. There is an eerie sense of calmness that overwhelms him when he waits, heart no longer ringing in his ears as he is gathered with the rest of the knights. When the announcement starts, he holds neither his breath nor his exhaustion. If he wins, then he wins. He must bring victory home to his master — only then would he be able to call himself yours wholeheartedly.

When his name is called, he exhales in relief, collapsing to his knees by the other knights as they cheer, and Leon feels as though he could cry. He has brought it home. He has brought you to safety. His title of grandmaster would protect both you and him from unwarranted trouble, and you would be able to use him as an excuse to not engage with other men of the nobility. He stares up at the gathering of grandmasters, eyes meeting yours as you smile at him, waving gently. He would delude himself into the idea that you are happy that he has won. Just this once, he would let himself be deluded by such useless thoughts.

The medics tend to the knights, Leon's cuts are cleaned, his wounds preserved for the knighting ceremony the next day, and he is sent back to his room for rest. He ponders over whether or not you would come visit, but he knows those are useless thoughts. You would not be able to do such a thing. If you are caught, your purity could be at risk, and he could not guarantee that the adrenaline would not drive him to do something foolish. He dares not to do something you do not wish to do, so it would be best to not put himself in a situation that could result in such. Yet, the universe has other plans.

You show up to his room in the dead of night when he wakes, blinking slowly as he stares at you.

What are you doing here? What if you are caught? He pulls you into the room with a closing of his door, heart racing in his chest. This is not alright. He needs to—

Leon has no time to think, your lips locked on his as he lets out a sound of surprise, scaring you off, causing you to start pulling away, and everything that happens next is all instinct.

Duty be dammed.

Leon chases your lips as you threaten to pull away, hand sliding to the back of your head, eyes half-lidded as he forces you against the bed, lips clashing with yours desperately as he rests you on the bed instead, neck craned down. He engulfs you in himself, your shadows disappearing in the alley as he covers you, his own head dizzy from the taste of you. Sweet as sin, he thinks. You're so sweet, his tongue against yours, smell of your perfume stuck in his lungs as he pulls away only to gasp for air before going back to you. He supposes he only has this chance to kiss you anyway, so he might as well make the most of it. Perhaps in another life, he could have you all to himself, difference in status invisible to the people. Perhaps in another life, he gets to kiss you senseless on the daily, never needing either of you to suffer to such an extent.

He lets you pull away eventually, forehead resting on your collar with an exhale, heartbeat matching yours slowly as he closes his eyes.

He has to apologize.

"I'm sorry." He slurs, breath warm against your shoulder. He should not have done that.

"Don't be."

And Leon believes you.

Leon lays bruised and battered as he has you sit on the bed, getting off of you to control himself, breathing deep as you blink at him. He wants more. He's certain you do too, but he can not give it to you. No, it would be too much. If he gives it to you now, then it would defeat the purpose of the tournament. He shall wait until the title of nobility is given to him, and then he would indulge himself — granted you would let him. He hopes you will. He doubts he will experience this level of devotion with anyone else. He would not let himself.

The moon paints your skin pale, and you stare back at him, breathing labored as you whisper.

"Who will you swear your loyalty to tomorrow?"

Leon hesitates not, blood forming from his hand, red shaping into a sword from his wounds, blinking slowly as he gets on a single knee in front of you, offering a sword of blood. He fears that you will not take it, delicate hands far too soft to touch something so ragged, but he needs you to knight him. He no longer has his blade in order to prevent treason, but he can not let himself be knighted by anyone other than you. He would rather die.

"My knight."

"Knight me, so that the emperor may not do so tomorrow." He whispers. "My loyalties lie with you, not with the king."

"My knight, I cannot—"

"I beg of you." He mumbles. "If you knight me now, the king can not knight me in the morning. You need not to get up, just... please."

You comply, red of his blade staining your hand as you stare, eyes closing as you whisper a prayer to the stars.

Leon stays staring up at you, heart racing in his chest as you stand, blade held out to one shoulder ancient chant whispered under your breath, the room filling with a golden haze as you move the blade to his other shoulder, light engulfing the room as Leon exhales,head collapsing in your lap as his blade trickles into a pool of blood at his feet, head in your lap as he rests his head. If treason would be held over his head, then so be it. He has done what he needs to. He may rest in peace now.

"Thank you."

"What will you tell the emperor?"

"I need not anything else. This was my request." He mumbles. "Stay the night."

"I cannot do that." You push his hair back, and Leon closes his eyes.

"I know."

"The emperor will have you executed for this."

"I'll run off with you." He hums. "Divine intervention. Bribe a priest."

"I can not do that, my knight." Your voice carries mirth. "And the regulations?"

"I will survive." He hums. "Clause twelve states that they are to swear their loyalty to anyone in the royal family. Considering the knowledge that you are still crown princess until the end of the competition, I have sworn my loyalty to the royal family by proxy."

"Ever the sly one, aren't you." Your fingers scratch at his scalp gently, and he hums.

"I have to. It is for you, after all."

"Then, will you have me?"

"Only if you would have me in exchange."

Leon requests that you knight him, glancing at your failed pretending to be unaffected by the emperor's expression. Yet, you step up to him anyway, taking the sword from his hand. He bows his head as he feels the blade on both sides of his shoulder, same golden haze erupting in the colosseum as the night before. Leon ponders if the emperor would truly ask him what his request would be after this. From your words, he was bound to contract to announce that you would no longer be crown princess after this.

When asked, he requests the title of Marquis. He could have been a duke if he truly wished for it, but the title of Marquis often came with no land, and he could spend the rest of his days tending to you while you managed the duchy. He stares the emperor in the eye when asking of so, and he thanks the emperor when he is granted the title. He is granted no land but a residence in the capital, and he thanks the emperor for such an act of generosity. He fakes it, but he is sure he has done an adequate job. The emperor is not doing a much better job at pretending to be thrilled by the knowledge that he has just sworn his loyalty to someone who is soon to no longer part of the royal family.

The emperor hardly hides his displeasure by Leon's choice of loyalty while announcing that you would no longer be crown princess. Some of the citizens realize it right away, but Leon could not care less. His loyalty could not be tied to the royal family, and once off the stage, he spares no extra thought, lifting you in his arms as you yelp. He carries you the whole way despite your complaints, and even when you leave, his only words are congratulatory messages, a smile on Leon's face surely foreign to your eyes. He does not ever recall smiling as brightly at any other thing.

"You smile so brightly, my knight."

"You are free from the shackles of the crown, princess." He whispers, forehead pressed to yours. "I am yours at last."

"And if I would not have you?"

"I am at your disposal regardless." He hums.

"What will the people think?"

"Do you care? Must you care? What is there to consider when I am by your side?"

He basks in the light that you shine him in, eyes closed as his heart beats against his chest. There is a sense of peace that he finds he has only with you, quiet humming of him against your skin as he feels the vibration of his voice in his chest, quiet tune hummed aimlessly as the people around him no longer register to him. You. Just you. Only you. There would be no next or if. There would only be you, and he finds that this devotion of his would be for your keeping only. With each breath he takes, all he would know is to be you. From the breath of his life to his bones that will return to dust one day, he shall be yours. That smile of you would mean far more than whatever is to come for him one day. His heart is full. That is all that matters.

"You are right, my knight."

Leon holds onto you, sun in his hair as he smiles up at you, nose pressed to yours, heart racing in his head.

He's finally yours.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR ASK 🥺 THE SUPER LONG REBLOG??? PRINTING IT OUT N PUTTING IT ON MY WALL RN

GIRLRLRLLRLL I GOTCHU THIS IS SO CUTE

KNIGHT LEON WILL ALWAYS HAVE A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART <3

AND YOU WROTE 10K BRO YOU DESERVE THIS ONE

LOVE YOUUUU

OMGMGMMGMG WHAT????

CHESUE'S ART AND UR WRITING IS THE MOST PERFECT COMBO EVER?? LIKE NOTHING FITS LIKE THATT

ok so lemme be SO fr rn i think leon teaching the reader to cut fruit was sooo cute ur writing is like having me question reality

the idea of the herbs being the reason for his immortality?? the lion?? the peaches?? trust this all symbolizes shit and im not at my computer rn but when i get home... full analysis.

CRESSIE ILYSM NEVER STOP BEING AMAZING AND A GIFT TO THE WORLD 🥰🥰

gentle are the hands that hold you

word count: 6.1k || banner art by @chesue00

summary: the mind may forget, but the soul will not

Leon has a set routine that he has grown used to. He wakes up, and he prepares fruit from the garden for the small temple his family has passed down to him, four peaches placed at the altar before he goes back to prepare his own breakfast. When he cooks, the sun early in the sky, and the morning dew is still present. He's certain that the sound of animals is the sound of the peaches getting eaten, and when he cleans up his plate and looks for that of the temple, the fruits are gone, including the pits, and the herbs around the altar have returned to their natural health.

He cuts three of them — one of each color.

His family has passed down the art of worshipping a forgotten deity— one whose marble statue has chipped and grown covered in vines. The marble carvings of the title of the deity only retain the words "health" and "herb", and the herbs that can be used for illness grow around the altar and are seldom cut. Leon learned it from a long time ago as a child, and he never stopped. Some might consider the routine to be a nuisance, but Leon enjoys the routine, singing hymns in the temple at noon, brushing out the lion's mane on the god's head after his singing, tending and snipping the herbs that grow beautifully around the marble, blue eyes stuck to the beauty of the forgotten god that only his family tended to, relishing in the statue's beauty.

How lonely they must be.

At sunset, he lights the four candles at the foot of the statue by the altar, lowering himself onto his knees, whispering a prayer passed down for centuries in his house, eyes closed and heart still as he chants. The words are to come from the heart, he recalls. So, he reads them

Typically, he finishes the prayer and the four candles go out on their own.

This time, however, he finishes and the candles stay lit.

He wonders if he should try again to pray, but as he opens his mouth to start again, two snakes slither from both sides, curling up the body of the statue as a comet passes in the sky, and Leon is startled to the ground. He falls backward, watching as a glow of gold erupts from the statue as the snakes turn into the same marble, and the altar cracks, tablet of the title in the front sliding down as a shadow is revealed.

The body.

A body.

Someone opens their eyes from the inside of the altar.

You open your eyes from the inside of the altar.

"Where... am I?"

Leon would recognize that face anywhere, and at that moment, all he can do is thank the skies above for what he is about to be graced with.

"Oh, sweet heavens of health." He whispers. "Do forgive this mere human for what he is about to do."

He takes a step closer, offering his hand to you, his veil sliding down his hair.

"Welcome to earth, dearest deity. This mere worshipper greets you."

You blink down at Leon slowly, tilting your head.

"The heavens greet you, kind mortal. Pray tell, what you wished to receive from a minor god of healing?"

"Nothing." He breathes.

God, if he could keep worshipping you for the rest of his life, then he would be fine.

"Nothing at all, dearest deity."

You blink at him slowly once more, looking around the temple as you stare at the herbs. Leon notices the otherwordly glow that seems to emit from your body, and the color never seems to leave your skin. You glow the same shade as your complexion, crown of yellow on your head as you observe your surroundings, staring at Leon.

Leon does not know what you think. He can not know. How could he? He was not more than a mere worshipper who was taught to care for you eternally. Eternally to be your servant, never to dream of meeting you. You, who seemed to appear out of nowhere and cry gold and green, skin naked to the eye and touch. Touching you is out of the question, yet he holds his hand out to you. You seem to lack a reaction, still taking in your surroundings as Leon breathes. Breathing heavily. Heavy is his chest as he stares at you — it feels like a violation to be able to see you so up close.

"If I may?" He offers.

You take his hand, and Leon's heart lunges into his throat at your touch.

"Thank you."

Your voice flutters along with the wind as he pulls you out of the altar, and you stare around at the opened scenery.

"My temple has deteriorated."

"Yes." Leon whispers. "It is only my family left, you see."

"The blood of the temple's knights." You mumble. "I am grateful that your blood has stayed. I do not know what I would do had you not."

Leon nods slowly. "Do you... wish to do something?"

You glance at the garden that Leon tends to and the produce, blinking ever so slowly as you smile.

"Will you teach me to tend to the plants?"

"Do you wish for it?"

"I miss my roots." You blink slowly. "The plants miss me. My mortal body has lost itself."

"Then, if I may, I shall tend to them with you again?" Leon tilts his head.

You blink at him, staring into his eyes, past his soul and straight to his heart as he holds his breath. You tilt your head, and your eyes gloss over with a distant look, almost as though you were reminiscing of something. Instead, you nod slowly, blinking as you nod, eyes clearing up as you nod again. This time, you seem sure of it.

"Thank you."

"The pleasure is all mine." Leon mumbles.

Goodness, you're not good for the heart.

You let Leon guide you, his questions lingering in the air when you ask him of everything, needing to be guided and taught how to take care of certain things, and Leon wonders if he could truly do a good job. To worship you, he finds, is to treat you as glass is. When you ask him what to do, he tells you. You are clueless of certain things yet you know much more than he does. He does not understand this dynamic that he has gotten himself into. Teaching a god how to listen to human responses, how works work, and how gardening does.

When the sun rises in the morning, he places a singular peach onto the altar for the wildlife, and he offers you a peach that you have grown used to eating. You thank him with a slow nod, biting into it as he makes a breakfast in a larger than usual portion. He offers you an egg from his pan, but you shake your head, content with the peach in your hands. The juice sticks to your hands as you bite into it, and the fruit gets all over your chin, but you are happy, and even as Leon watches you eat, nearly missing his mouth with the fork, you seem content. Leon finishes his food only after you stare at the peach core left in your hand.

"Will this grow into a tree?"

"It will take a handful of years, but yes." He hums. "We can plant it with the rest of the peach trees in the garden."

You nod slowly.

"I shall go change. Please make yourself comfortable while I do, dearest deity."

You nod, looking around at the wildlife from the window, climbing out as your feet land in the grass, much more comfortable to you. The snakes in the garden slither around your calves, sitting there as you continue walking through the garden to find your temple, the medicinal herbs surrounding the altar looking dimmer than usual as you press your hand to them, the same golden glow restoring the herbs to their colors. You would have to bring a second peach to the altar in the morning from the trees.

"Will you be alright in these clothes?" Leon's changed into something easier to move in, finding you as you stare at the fallen tablet from the night before.

"It will be fine." You smooth your hand over the marble, blinking slowly as you frown. "Do you know what words were once written here?"

"I am afraid not." Leon's heart races in his chest, and you sigh.

"I have lost part of me." You glance at the eroded stone on certain words.

"If I may, I shall help you find it once more."

Leon teaches you the ropes of managing the farm, showing you the equipment and what meant fresh and not fresh. The herbs, you are familiar with, stopping Leon from pulling the rosemary because it was not at its prime, and nodding when Leon shows you how to ripen tomatoes despite them being orange. He shows you how to hide the strawberries from the birds and the indications that the blackberries were ready for harvest. The olive trees are shown to you with the peaches, and you snack on one as Leon hands you another.

In the afternoon, he shows you how to harvest the wheat and store the grain, showing you how to bake bread as you grind the grain into flour with Leon, pushing the till as you heave, falling to your knees once you have made enough for the bread of that night. You lay on the dirty stone for a minute, groaning as Leon packages the flour, holding a hand out for you as you gasp. You hold your hand up for a minute, catching your breath as you take it to get up.

"Do gods not labor?"

"What is there to labor over when the worshippers send you food?"

"Do gods disappear once they are forgotten?"

"Yes." You dust off your clothes, humming. "I have only lived this long because of the care of your blood."

You help Leon season, not much help when it comes to cooking or preparing dishes, and Leon tries to have you keep your hands off of the majority of things, only letting you tend to the herbs and spices, the olives prepared with the oil as you dip the bread in it to try it. You have not much of a reaction, sitting down at the table as Leon serves you the salad, a smaller fish prepared for him.

You settle with the salad, another peach given to you for dessert, biting on it as Leon washes up, cleaning and drying the silver with a rag as you stare at the peach in hand. The green is a little jarring, and you appreciate that Leon picks the riper ones for your temple. Yet, when you bite down, it's sweet, nectar staining your chin as Leon disposes of the peach peels, offering you a cup of water alongside some honey.

You accept it, thanking him with a nod as you go back to the peach, hands stained with sugar.

"Dearest deity." Leon starts. "If I may?"

"Feel free to." You nod, licking your fingers.

"Do you know why you have returned to being human?"

"I'm not quite sure." You look out past the windows, eyes distant.

Leon wonders if he's struck a nerve, but he doesn't have much time to think over it.

For the first time, Leon dreams and remembers.

He's in a field of grass, your head in his lap, closed eyes and blissed smile on your face as he runs his hands through your hair. He's bigger than he is in reality, lion's skin on his head, his fingers rough from what he assumes to be the blade. He pushes your hair out of your face, blinking down at you slowly. The green of the grass creases under your body, and Leon thinks there is a strange sense of domesticity with the way that you trust him so much.

His mouth moves on its own. "Dearest, are you not uncomfortable?"

"Surely not while in your lap." You peek up at him, smile on your face as you beam. "You are comfortable, beloved."

The daffodils in the field are pulled, Leon's fingers clumsy with the stems as he tries to make you a crown, weaving in the green into the braid as you let the breeze tickle your nose. He feels his hands are rough from some sort of labor, and his body feels weary. Yet, there is a fullness in his chest as he finishes the crown, placing it on your head as you open an eye to stare up at him.

"How do I look?"

"Dazzling, darling." He hums, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "You look dazzling."

Leon wakes from the dream in his bed, sitting up and gasping as one does, and he stares at the rising sun and the calling rooster. He rests his head in his palms, groaning at the way his heart refuses to slow down. He hears the sound of the door opening in the back, and he assumes that you've gone off to the well to wash up for the day. He assumes it's a routine for you much like the four peaches he places at the altar, so he gets up, bed covers kicked off as he makes his bed. The peaches have ripened after being left out for the night, and he takes the basket with him, offering you one on the way before taking the other three.

You bite on the peach and follow him to the altar, watching as he leaves the basket. You stare at the peach in your hand and place it back into the basket, teeth marks visible in the one you had placed there, but Leon doesn't mention anything.

Then comes breakfast, eggs for him, an assortment of fruit for you.

Despite your lack of diet, it seems you do not complain. Perhaps your body abides by different rules when compared to his.

He ponders over the idea of insanity when he turns red from eye contact alone. Truly, you are dazzling, and unfortunately, Leon is not immune to such beauty despite staring at your statue each morning. Heavens, he's screwed.

"Is there anything you need, dearest deity?" He offers.

"Not much." You hum. "Do we have other fruit?"

"There is an orchard in the east." Leon hums. "Would you like more fruit?"

You nod.

The orchard is due for some tending. Leon only ever went for olives to have in his meals and peaches for offerings, so it wasn't surprising that the figs were eaten from the inside out alongside the apples and pears. You offer to help, palms held out as you argue that you could technically restore them to their prime. Leon has you rest, pulling out the figs and bad fruit into one basket, tossing the good ones to another.

"Are there any fruits you'd rather not eat?"

You ponder over his words, shaking your head.

Leon finds you familiar. You sit at the corner of the orchard, trailing after him with a basket of your own fruit, and he finds it familiar. You yourself are familiar to him. He has no memory of you, but he can not argue that it is because he has never met you either. He no longer remembers the faces of his own parents. All he knows is the ritual of worship, the routine of faith that he has grown used to. All he remembers about himself is that, now that he thinks about it.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, and Leon has not much of a choice when it comes to resting at night.

When he closes his eyes, he's unsurprised at what he is met with.

It's another dream.

A lion's robe is still on Leon's body this time, and he feels significantly bigger than he is in present. His heart does not beat as harshly as it does in reality, and with each step he takes, he becomes increasingly aware that he is taller than he is in reality. The garden of his home is replaced with a marble home of his own, and he walks through the ruins that have been replaced with a garden in present day. His steps are heavy as he stops in front of the temple, watching as there's a golden hue from the altar — noticeably larger than the one in present.

Leon steps behind you, eyes glued to the words on the tablet that is now restored, frowning.

god of health, herb, home. the lion's beloved

"Are you returning?"

Leon cannot control his mouth, but he stares at the way you tense at his voice.

"My time on earth is short." You turn around to face him, voice quiet as you close your eyes.

Leon's heart rattles in his chest from the way you refuse to look at him. "Can you stay longer?"

"Beloved" You whisper. "I ca—"

"Will you stay longer?" He whispers, voice shaking as he asks. His heart races at being called beloved, but his chest contorts painfully as the man whose body he resides in.

"I cannot." You open your eyes, heart shattering in your ears as you catch his tears. "Oh, beloved, please do not—"

Leon wants to stay, but he watches as the man turns his back, stepping away from the altar as the sound of bells chime to indicate your disappearance.

Instead, when he turns around again, all that remains is a shrunken altar and the temple from the modern day. Leon has what he was holding prior to entering into the past — three peaches in a small basket. You are still behind him, white of your eyes the only visible part of them as your irises cloud over and Leon stares at you. A flash from the past for him, a flash from your life for you. He wonders just who that might have been.

He looks around, catching the fact that you are behind him.

When you return, you stare into nothing, pupils wide as the black of your eyes engulf the entirety of the color of your eye, and Leon stands there, unsure of what to do, blinking slowly as you close your eyes and open them again and again. You blink again, and again, and again, and again. You try to break yourself from the trance— from what Leon can tell.

"Dearest deity." Leon whispers. "Are you alright?"

You blink at Leon again, exhaling as you grimace.

"I will be. Let us drop off the fruit for my herbs first." You take the basket from him, fruit placed on the altar as you bless the peaches.

"How does it work?"

"They live off of the water and juice." You squeeze the fruit, Leon watching as the liquid trickles down your fist onto the plants, the red herbs brightening up nearly immediately. The yellow follows, and the green last. You take the scissors to cut three of the herbs, two of each herb, juice-stained fingers sticking to the plants as you place them into the basket.

Leon nods as you hand him the herbs, thanking you.

Food is simple today. It is typically a loaf and some legumes, occasionally fish if the two of you decide to head out to fish at the lake. Leon has grown used to a life like this, and you make do without eating fish, so Leon goes out less and less, growing legumes with you as you learn from him, forming an appetite for fruit as well, snacking on blackberries as he picks at the strawberries that he hides from the birds. You bite down on certain ones, slipping a piece past Leon's lips as he places a cucumber in your basket, thanking you quietly as he checks out the lettuce.

"What do you want for dinner?"

You glance at the lettuce and the berries, tilting your head.

"...salad?"

"Fruit salad? I should retrieve some olives as well, then." Leon holds his hand out for the basket, and you give him your hand instead.

Leon does a double take, blinking at your hand and then at you, and you offer him a shy smile.

"If this is alright?"

"More than alright, dearest deity." Leon smiles. "I am honored you would initiate it."

Leon finds that you are much more affectionate now that time has passed. He does not keep track of the days, time something he no longer holds, sharing dishes and bites with you when he can, showing you the rest of the garden that he leaves to tend on its own. Leon understands something. Whoever he is in his dreams, you left. Whoever you are in the dream, you did not wish to leave. He understands not much from it. The heart of whose body he was in his dreams was scarred when you left.

It hurt him to think about it, so he busies himself with the sand between his toes.

"We had a beach?"

"We have a sea." Leon stares out at the horizon. "I wonder if the lobsters are ready for harvest."

"You can eat those?"

Leon nods slowly, laughing as you furrow your brows.

"How does... that work." You pause. "You crack the head?"

"You pop the head off, and you pull out the meat from the whole tail."

You blink twice.

"May I... watch you prepare it?"

"With pleasure." He smiles. "Shall we go catch one?"

You watch Leon ditch the top, skin out for the world to see, and Leon feels a little embarrassed being so bare before you, but you don't seem to mind, watching as he takes a trident.

"You pierce them?"

"They don't move as fast. Perhaps I have grown used to the water."

The blue of the ocean is pretty. Leon still isn't over the beauty of it, and it always surprises him when he dives for crustaceans, trident heavy against his arm as he pierces through the shells, three tucked into the bag net he carries, paddling back to the surface as he wonders how he had been able to hold his breath for so long. The question fades just as quickly, eyes meeting yours as you blink, doe-eyed, eyes wide as you seem to drink in every part of his skin.

"Dearest deity?"

"Apologies." You hide your face, sinking into the ground with embarassment as Leon laughs, letting the net fall into the sand as he crouches in front of you, hair pushed back, saltwater still dripping from his hair and skin. He watches as your eyes dart to his chest and then abdomen, thoughts written all over your face as you hide again.

"I shall dress again."

"There's no need." You manage, still hiding your face. "I... prefer the way you are."

Leon feels an arrow pierce his heart, ears ringing as he processes what you've just said. He's sure he's turned red like the tomatoes once ripe, and he hides his face in his knees, shaking slightly as he processes your bluntness. Dare he say it, he liked it.

Though, it would be his grace if you were to fall for him. It was only a given that he would worship you.

He doesn't feel as though he is in a position where he could truly get to profess his love to you first.

At night, you request of him to tuck you into bed, pout on your lips as he sits by your bed, letting you squeeze his hand with a gentle grab, watching as you drift off to sleep.

He wonders if you need sleep truly — considering you are a deity and all.

Though, Leon does.

The third time Leon dreams, he is no longer in a lion's skin.

He feels younger, white on his body, blue brooch around his neck and blouse on his skin. There is a veil on his head, and it seems as though he is in the temple of yours once more. He does not understand this quite that much. It seems as though he is being offered up for some kind of ritual. It is some sort of marriage, he assumes. Blue eyes and golden hair, cerulean brooch and white blouse, ruffled bow and laced veil, Leon truly feels that he is being offered up as a groom rather than a servant. He wonders if the person he has possessed is aware of it.

His body moves on its own, veil over his head shifting as he looks down, standing before what he assumes as the head priest. The priest places a crown of... herbs on his head, and he is placed on the altar, some sort of glow occurring around him as he forces his eyes open. The veil sticks to his head as he notices the priest and all their followers are gone when he opens his eyes. Instead, he catches a glance of you above him, head tilted as you blink down at him.

"You're quite young, sacrifice." You grin, teeth visible. "What might your name be?"

Nevermind the fact that Leon's heart is racing a thousand pes an hour, his heart is about to leap out of his chest. Yet, Leon is curious of the man's name, but he finds it surprising that he chokes out his own name.

"Leon, dearest deity." He whispers. "I am your... groom."

"How rare that they would send a groom rather than a servant." You tilt your head at him. "Well, do make yourself at home. We've got plenty of plants and fruit."

Leon steps down from the altar, stepping on a piece of marble before taking a tumble, the tablet breaking under his foot as he blinks.

"I'm sorry." He gapes.

You raise a brow, mumbling to yourself as you tap your chin.

"Oh, dear." You laugh. "I'll restore it sometime. Please take care of the garden while I do."

Leon's dream is far longer than he is comfortable. He wonders how much time has passed in reality in the dream, and he learns to take care of the garden that resembles the one he tends to each night. There is a lake in the back where he fishes, and he learns to cook meals for the two of you, typically baking bread and making soup. He learns that you prefer the best harvest of peaches, but you share them with him, teaching him how to make crisp and how to cook the oats until they are crispy. You adore peaches with or without honey and spices. It is why the peach tree was so large in the orchard.

During the time, he learns that gods do in fact visit the earth outside of their domains. You return in time for dinner every single day, and you tell him of what has happened recently with the temple over his meals. He likes this life. At one point, the worshippers send him the very lion skin he wore in his previous dream. The connection between your domain and reality is created through prayer. Not faithfulness, number.

You complete a number of miracles, and in return, your worshippers increase in number, which, in turn, grants you access back home.

When Leon wakes, his heart is racing in his chest for no reason, blinking at the knife in hand and cutting board on the counter and then at the tomatoes.

"Kind mortal?"

"My apologies." Leon sighs, going back to cutting the veggies. "It seems I had gotten lost in myself."

Not reality. Leon is not in reality. Instead, he has been stuck in an endless cycle of immortality, and without you around, the age had worn him down until all he remembered was to worship you. If your temple was run down in your domain, he can not imagine how ruined your temple in reality was. Leon has become immortal from partaking of the food of the gods. The peaches he offered to the gods was for you, and the herbs he cut was granting him immortality in return.

Leon Kennedy had lived for so long that he forgot this was not his home, it was yours.

The immortality from the herbs had been eating his mind from the inside out.

He wonders if you remember, but he doesn't ask.

Instead, he asks you if you would like to go fishing with him, fishing rod in hand.

You tilt your head at the rod, nodding as he takes everything. The pond spawns all sorts of fish, now that he thinks about it. The expensive fish he used to dream of owning back when he was in reality, the fish that he had when his family had a nice harvest, just about everything. It feels strange to remember that this is your home and not his, but he doesn't dwell too much on it. Instead, he sits at the dock, holding out the fishing rod as you sit next to him, basket of strawberries in your lap as you eat them.

"Do you eat fish?" The answer is no, yet Leon finds himself asking anyway.

"No." You hum. "I can live off of produce."

You take a bite of the strawberries almost as if to make a point, pointing at the fishing line with a kick of your legs as Leon reels in the fish, pulling it out of the water with a ceremonious thud.

"Good job." You hum. "I didn't know we had catfish."

Leon raises a brow at you. "What else do we have?"

You shrug. "I don't know much. My followers only ever send me peaches now. Not that I do not appreciate it."

Leon finds it strange that there happens to be both a lake and an ocean, the two connected by a small river, a waterfall that collapses into the ocean, and the sea leads into nothing. It seems that you knew, but you never mentioned it in any way. If this domain was yours, then he found it intriguing that you had been offered enough fish that there would form an ocean. The offerings given seem to not expire, and the ecosystem seems to reproduce and go on as it would in reality.

He wonders if reality is the right word to describe his world, though. Perhaps earth would have made for a better word. He wonders what is happening on earth. Maybe this was some sort of Mount Olympus... or whatnot. He doubts it is. He would have recognized living on an actual mountain.

Well, at the very least, fishing is quite fun.

When he pulls in the second catch of the day, he decides that it's enough.

"What do you want for dinner?"

Leon wonders if he should try making pie in one of the vessels.

You tap your chin. "Something baked sounds good."

"Oh, I'm sure it does." Leon mumbles. "Pie?"

You nod. "Shall I help?"

He shakes his head.

The more Leon thinks of it, the more he realizes that he's always been making portions for two. It was embedded into his soul. When he had leftovers, it was much easier to feed it to the poultry in the back and the pigs. Now, that second portion had a reason. He had always found it bizzare. It was because he used to cook with his mother for his father, not the fact that he had been cooking for the two of you for such a long time.

When Leon sends you to bed at night, he watches you for a few moments longer, wondering if this was something he had done in the past.

He does not dream this time.

So, when he wakes in the morning and you have a pear in hand with a knife in the other, he blinks at you.

"Dearest?"

"Teach me how to cut fruit?"

Leon wonders if you were the one to teach him first, but the more he thinks back on the dream, the more he wonders just whether or not you had been eating in the time that you lacked a sacrifice. Would sacrifice be the correct word? The more he considers it, the more he thinks of himself as a gift from the priest rather than a sacrifice. Is that egoistical? Perhaps it is. It is more of a blessing on his end to be able to stay with you for so long. The herbs he had each morning must have been keeping him nice and healthy despite his time in your realm.

He may have forgotten, but it seems that his body had remembered.

He teaches you how to hold the knife, cut by cut showing you how to peel the fruit, and you decide that peeling half of it and then eating the other half after spitting out the core was the better decision. He finds that that ties into what he remembers about you as well.

It seems he remembers now.

Leon understands that you expect a singular peach and then three more at the altar, but he does not do so this fateful day. There is something he must check, and someone he must attempt to understand. There was no way you did not know. You were not as foolish as to not. It had been in the way you looked at him. He knew, from the very beginning. You knew perhaps, as well, that when you had opened your eyes from the inside of the altar, you had been observing him and not your surroundings.

You had been observing your lover who had forgotten you, not the home you resided in.

"You are home, dearest deity." Leon offers. "You need not the peaches anymore."

You blink at Leon, hesitation bleeding through you as you pause to breathe.

"Since when have you recalled?"

"A while back." Leon mumbles. "I was not certain if you wished for me to bring it up."

You blink at Leon, sitting yourself back on the altar, the lack of glowing visible now that everyone has forgotten about you. You will no longer be able to return to the world that you had left to. You would be stuck tending to the garden that you had started long before Leon joined you here. At the very least, he would be able to stay forever with you, only needing to tend to the herbs and grow them. Yet, he wonders where all of the maidens you had been offered so long ago ended up.

You stare at the broken tablet, laughing embarrassingly as you smile at Leon.

"Truly reminds you the first time we met, huh?"

"Yes." He rests the empty basket on the altar, taking it from your hand as he smooths the rusted words over. "God of health, herbs, home."

"The lion's beloved." You whisper back. "I missed you."

"I know." He mumbles, setting it to the side as he lets you sob into his chest.

"I missed you." You gasp. "You... you forgot me. I expected it, but I had been in the fabric between reality and my realm that I was sure you would stop building my way home, but you remembered the prayers. You recalled the words you had grown used to prior to your sacrifice, and I... you found my way home."

"I'm sorry, dearest." He whispers. "I had forgotten. I have been around for far too long. I am sorry I had forgotten to welcome you home."

There is a certain beauty that comes with remembering, Leon finds. In the centuries that he had forgotten all about you, his heart had somehow remembered, adorning you in the lion's mane until he forgot it was his first, singing hymns he knew you cherished from the time he had spent with you, leaving you peaches because you had always shared the best harvest of them with him, sneaking in that you adored the taste of the nectar on your tongue. His mind had forgotten, but his heart had not, burying you into the depths of his consciousness until he would remember you again one day.

His hands have grown rough with a different kind of labor over the years, and he has lost much of the large muscle he had arrived with from his way of living, but the feeling of your skin is still familiar to his touch.

Right.

His mind could forget, but his soul could never.

"You're making me a crisp later." You huff.

"Of course." He laughs. "Anything else?"

"And I want a kiss for all the years you forgot about me for."

"That can be made up with the life ahead."

And to seal the promise, Leon kisses you, hands gentle on your skin, clarity restored.

relatable he's so sassy we need him back

I need people to write more for og re4 leon bc that man has so much cunt and personality

hes very smooth trust... hes not just an awkward lame loser... hes got rizz

panic texting co workers is so real... i be hitting up convos w the most random ppl ever and js like trauma dump/ask for advice 😔😔

a coup - leon kennedy x reader || lightning strike! (fluff request)

Leon likes taking public transport home from work. It's nice to see the people he talks to occasionally in the city while helping out on the busses, so he takes it over buying a car any day of the year.

He does, however, get a glimpse of the younger people in the city on the bus occasionally—

namely you.

You take public transport once a week, and you're deathly attractive.

The first time Leon saw you, he dropped all his change comically and made a fool of himself. You had only offered him a look in sympathy, and Leon thought he was going to die on the spot. Yet, against all odds, he didn't.

So, it becomes clockwork, Leon's eyes searching for you when he boards the bus, nodding at you when you nod back. Then, he stays near to you, panic texting his colleagues with a blush he's sure is visible on his skin.

This time. This time, he'll ask if you wanna get coffee.

Yet, his phone dies halfway, panicked blinking on his face.

He was. Supposed to ask for your number.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbles. "Do you have a portable?"

You blink up at him, nodding as you dig through your bag for it.

"Your stop is next, right?" You tilt your head. "You can, um, take it with you. Just be sure to bring it next week."

"C-can I return it to you over coffee?"

He curses his stutter, and you blink up at him.

"Sure?"

Leon punches in his number to your phone when you hand it to him, and he thanks you with a wave as he gets off at his stop.

Oh. Oh. He just scored himself a date!

girl why are you writing a whole ass novel 😭😭 my lit professors looking for book recommendations... seeing where this road is going i might have to get him hooked onto ur fics 👀👀 didnt hear that from me tho.

let's play a guessing game called

im arguing with ur point nuh uh im not writing a novel

counterpoint - where are your characters and how much longer will it take for them to get to where they need to be before you allow them grace and finish???

immortal soul, mortal hands - leon kennedy x reader (everyone thank @chesue00 for this)

“Leon.” Your voice is gentle, eyes trailing his face as he focuses on the paper, humming back in acknowledgement.

“Leon.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can I move?”

Leon clicks his tongue and you stay still, pout on your lips as he smiles.

“Can I move?”

“I’m almost done, beloved.”

You stay still, counting the lashes on his face and the colors of his eyes, tilting your head as he reaches over to brush the charcoal and shade, smiling when he meets eyes with you.

“I love you.”

“What’s prompting that?”

“You’re not gonna say it back?”

“I love you too.” You hum, eyes closing as he turns the canvas over to show you.

How beautiful it is to be immortalized by the hands of your mortal lover.

5.2k in a day AND YOU SAY I WRITE FAST

YOU DO. THERES 24 HOURS IN A DAY YK THAT. MEANWHILE THE ART CAME OUT LIKE TWO MINUTES AGO AND YOU'VE ALREADY POSTED WRITING.

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN CRESSIE YOU ARE FAST DONT EVEN ARGUE WITH ME.

there's no difference, i adore ya

word count: 6.5k || Medieval AU || Photo by Antibia

warnings: major character death, childbirth, non-explicit smut

summary: beginning too late, ending too soon

"Do you live waiting for something to happen?"

The question from your friend causes you to blink, confusion written all over your face as you pause in picking the fruit at the market.

"What?"

"I don't know. I heard that witch ask the question the other day, so I always wondered if we were supposed to do something instead of waiting for something to happen to us." She frowns. "That apple's too soft."

You grimace at the way it dents under your fingers, placing it back down. "Madam, you got any other fruit?"

"Unfortunately, the batch lately has just been bad." She shakes her head.

"And the prunes?"

She shakes her head. "The castle took all the good harvest to welcome the soldiers back from war."

"You must be relieved, madam. Your son and husband should return." You smile. "I heard the knights this year were exceptionally capable and there were no men dead amongst ours."

"Yes." She laughs, chest rumbling as your friend remembers something.

"Oh, goodness! That cute neighbor of mine is returning!" Your friend gasps.

"The one you've taken a liking to that your parents refused to wed you to?"

"Ugh, it's not my fault his family is gone! Instead, I am stuck with my good for nothing husband at home." She grumbles. "If only I was still available as you."

"How awful." You find a single good apple amongst the soft ones, asking the madam if you could take it. She nods, letting you go without a coin in her hand, somewhat happier now that her husband and son should be returning. You place the apple in your basket, wandering back home with your friend, festivities being put up as the two of you are pushed to the side, eyes wide and blinking in mild surprise as the knights march down the town. You glance at the men in armor, raising a brow at your friend when she squeals her neighbor's name, the man turns to stare into your eyes instead, your breath stuck in your throat as the sun goldens his blue eyes.

"He's looking this way!" She squeals.

"That is your neighbor?" You force yourself to look away from him, balancing yourself as she pretends to faint into your arms. "Was your neighbor not the village boy we met so long ago?"

"Yes, he had been promoted to our family knight at the time before the war, so he was by rule, our neighbor. It seems the king will promote him to something better instead now that he has come back from war victorious with the princess." She gushes. "Oh, good heavens. If only my parents had waited as I instructed them to! Look at how attractive of a man he has become!"

You turn to look back at him, surprised to see him stopped and still staring at you.

"Oh, goodness. It seems he is fond of you." Your friend mumbles, squealing as she smacks your arm. "Darling, talk to him!"

"He has just returned from war. It is not something I can fathom him doing."

As you say, the knight gets back to moving from the yell of another knight, his blue eyes burn into your mind as you wonder just what had you looking so lovely for him to be staring at you as that. You are not attractive. Your friend had been wedded immediately upon growing to marriable age, and your parents had tried time and time again to set you up, only for it to be dropped. You were not suitable. A better candidate had appeared. A woman more suited for their son had been suggested. It was never you. You had never been picked in the end. You do not find that it should be a problem. After all, you are still young, but there is a fear that gnaws at the back of your head that you will be unmarried by 20 and then too old for everyone else. No man covets an old woman.

Yet, you were a late bloomer anyway, so it is unsurprising that you had not been allowed to be wedded by the church until you had started bleeding.

Then, by that time, most of the men were already off to war, leaving you very few men, most of whom had already gotten married. Most other girls were wedded to the noblemen who did not need to fight in the time. You had not been a first choice to many of them because of the way you carried yourself. You could not be sold as an obedient wife out of a fear that your family would be condemned to death by your would-be husband's.

You are not wealthy in a land that only adores the wealthy.

"How was the parade, child?"

"It was alright." You smile at your mother. "I saw the knights return."

"Well, now that they are back, surely you can be wedded off." Your father sighs, tapping the table as your mother places down dinner.

"I got an apple from the madam at the market." You hand it to your mother, who rushes off and chatters about a pie, leaving you with your father.

"Is there a man you would like?"

"No." You pause, blue eyes flashing in your mind as you answer, causing you to stop.

"You do not look of such."

"Shame." You mumble. "I met eyes with a young knight today, but considering he is the leader of the group, surely he will be wedded to the princess as an excuse to hand him a title and some land."

"And if you are the second wife?"

"We are not the east, father." You thank your mother as she hands you a bowl, and your father starts eating.

"Did he stop to stare?"

"Yes."

"Oh, then surely he'll request of you from the king." Your mother laughs, placing her own plate down as she eats. "It is the same as your father had done. You would be surprised to know how certain your father had been that I was to be wed to him."

You entertain your mother's words, sure that such will not happen. Any man with their right mind would not choose a woman over a title, yet you are sure there are men as your father. Lovesick fools, your mother calls them. Your father had been so enamored with your mother, and despite the words of everyone around you insisting that your mother was plain and average, you thought of her to be lovely. Your mother was lovely. It was a sight to behold — your mother had been loved from the moment your father laid eyes on her, and you knew it well. It was rare, you think. Perhaps that is also why your father complains only verbally, never actively looking for a man for you. They had wedded late. Later than your current age. They had worried not, so neither should you.

"Good news will befall you soon." Your mother insists.

"I hope my husband at least received a title."

Your friend comes knocking for you to shop for food with her a week from then, arm hooked under yours, lips curled upwards as it only means she has some groundbreaking news to let you know of.

"Pray tell, what is this news this time?"

"Oh, you know me so well." She grins. "That knight from our house? Promoted."

"Promoted? To what? Has he been wedded to the princess?"

"No, the princess was married off to a neighboring nation. You know, the king has a young son now, after all." She waves her hand. "The title of viscount was bestowed upon him by the king."

"And?"

"And?? That means he is of marriable age, unwed, and attractive! You should have your parents suggest of you to him!"

"He's a noble now. There is no chance that he will go searching for someone not of noble background." You hum. "Why wed in a pool of the poor when the rich are options."

"You know, he is a new noble after all. There is little chance that he will wed with someone of the nobles."

"Surely that face of his is good for something." You purchase pears this time around, humming as you hand the woman a dozen eggs for the basket of pears.

"Look!"

"At—" You tense up when you notice your friend is no longer behind you and it is a man, and you turn slowly, taking a step forwards as you do, blinking at the knight that has so kindly decided to appear out of nowhere. "Sir."

"Mistress." He places his hand on his chest, bowing gently as you muster a smile.

"Pray tell, knight, if there is something that I could be help of?"

"Your parents, mistress."

"I am not of noble descent. There is no need to refer to me of such name."

"I assure you, there will be soon." He nods. "Unless you have complaints?"

"There are none, I assure you. I shall bring you to my mother and father."

Your friend had run off long ago, and when you finally glance up to look at her, she is far down the road on her way home, waving at you dramatically as you sigh.

"You are tired?"

"No, knight. My friend is just full of life, you see." You nod at him to follow you, stepping down a set of stairs as you arrive at your home, your voice meeting an empty home as you have him follow you to the yard.

"I am back with the pears... and a knight."

Your father looks up, raising a brow at the knight as he laughs.

"Sir Leon, was it? Matthew of York was gabbing of the new squadron leader. It must have been you, considering those blue eyes of yours."

"Honored, sir." The knight, Leon, follows your father as you take over his work with the chickens, chasing one down and grabbing it by the wing, flipping it upside down as your mother claps.

"That one will do for dinner." She hums. "Let's feather the bird."

"Yes, ma."

You are to be wedded to Leon. It was hard to turn down a man who was higher standing than both of your parents, and despite your father being his superior previously, there was no argument or complaint raised from you, so it was fine to proceed with the arrangement. You have no complaints if you are marrying... noble, or whatnot. It is not of your concern. You are just grateful that you are no longer unwed. At least the wives with no better to do will stop sneering at you.

Though, they would start sneering of how you seduced the man with your figure. Truly, there is nothing you can do that would satisfy the mouthes of the bored.

"If there is any one who does not will for the couple to be wedded, speak now or forever hold your peace."

You blink at the way your to-be husband holds your hands, his calloused ones from the sword against your softer ones. Your hands are no better, still rough from the livestock, slightly bruised from the work that you had been raised to do. You had only stopped once your father realized that you'd be wedded better if your hands had been well kept. Rough hands on a woman meant that she was of lower standing in class. Your father didn't care, but it also mattered that you would marry well. To be wedded to a bad man was enough to age your father too many years. The end of his life was approaching, after all. It's surprising that your mother had even survived childbirth of you. Your father almost didn't— you're surprised they did not have more to tend to the livestock. Something about your mother suffering too much while having you to have another. You suppose if love is a concept, then it would be your mother and father.

"I pray he shall take care of you the same way your father does me." Your mother tells you, wedding clothes draped over you as you are wed at the chapel, exchange and officiation of the ceremony done by the priest, your bowed head and an exchange of rings that are surprising quality from a knight. The gold band slid to your finger and to his, the gold glistening against your skin as you stare up at Leon. Your husband, now. The man whom you barely knew would be the man you are to spend the rest of your life together with. However long that life of yours would be.

"And the consummation." The priest nods.

"We shall deal with such in our abode. Come on."

You follow Leon as he brings you, fingers entwined with yours as he leads you through the paths, lips curled upwards once you arrive at his residence, stopping to stare at all the maids and aides that you're sure Leon isn't any more familiar with than you. How does one manage wealth after living their whole life as a commoner? You are sure there is a servant for that, but you are also certain that you will need to watch everything to make sure the wealth is built and not squandered. Does your husband know of such? There is too much to think of.

"Overwhelmed?" He smiles at you, and you sigh.

"I will have to grow familiar with it." You follow him as he leads you to the bedroom, standing to the side as you blink at him and then the bed, preparing to strip.

"If you do not—"

"It is my duty." You continue, cutting him off. "I bed of you to be quick. I have heard it can be painful."

"If you are not prepared." He steps towards you, letting you sit down on the bed, kneeling as you drop the inner layer.

"And how are you to have child with me if you are on the ground?"

"I will not hurt you. I could not dream of it." He has you sit, undressing himself as well, spitting on his fingers.

"Do the men of the battlefield know of this?"

"They are the ones who taught me, despite my status as commander." He pries your legs open, staring up at you, waiting for a nod.

"And the brothels?"

"You learn much just by observing." He pauses. "It is a sin, is it not?"

"There are so many worse sins out there. As long as it does not hurt."

"I would not wish of it."

Marriage consummation is supposedly painful, but Leon puts the skills of the battlefield to good use, visits to the brothel with his soldiers long engrained in his soul, your body thoroughly spent as though you had been tending to the livestock, mark of your nails raked down your husband's back with a red previously unknown to you, your exhaustion much more apparent when the maids wake you the next day — your husband missing, and you are tended to and bathed, the maids whispering amongst themselves of the visible bruises left on your neck. Abuse or adoration, they wonder. Is their master as cruel as to bring back a woman just to abuse her? You know the answer, yet the embarrassment stops you from speaking up.

You meet your husband in his garden, the man with his sword out, swinging and training with the guards of his new residence, years of heavy armory apparent in his stature, body glistening under the sun, breathless blue eyes bright under the morning rays. You do not speak or move, waving the maids off as they scatter, and you take a seat on the side, blinking slowly as you take in the sight of your husband. Do you love him? Will you love him? What is love, truly? Does father have truly so much faith in you as to fall in love with a man you had only met once? Is it truly better to marry a man who adores you than to marry a man whom you adore?

"Wife." He brightens at the sight of you, forcing the knight's sword away with his own, rushing over to you as though he were some overgrown hound, lowering himself onto one knee as he checks your skin, asking you of your morning — are you alright? are you growing accustomed to the life in his residence? do you require of anything? how about a new gown? a visit to your companion's? how about a walk? He is an overgrown docga, you find. You wonder if it was normal to equate your husband to an animal, but as you find yourself running your hand through his dirty hair without much a second thought and ruffling his hair, you wonder if you had accidentally wounded your husband's pride.

Instead, you are met with a laugh, his cheeks red as he leans his head further into your touch.

"Should we fetch a hound, dear wife?"

"My apologies, Sir Leon." You cough, pulling your hands away from his hair. "It was—"

"Leon is fine, dear wife." He hums. "I am your husband now. There is no need to be formal."

"Do excuse me, for we barely know each other."

"I am most certain you are the one."

You are not sure how he is certain, but the way he beholds you with such fondness in his eyes leaves no argument for your futile thoughts.

You are certain that there would be nowhere else where a man could behold you in such light.

"Surely?"

"You are sent by the Lord himself." He rests his forehead on your hands, humming. "There is no larger grace than that of the moment I first met eyes with you."

You give him a laugh that can only mean you are only half-convinced. Yet, you do not make mention that you do not believe him. There is only so much that you can experience before you pass. Your husband will be sent to war in time again as his role of knight, and you will have children and possibly pass before you get to see him older with age. You wonder if you will bear him a son at the very least. An heir to carry on the name that has so mournfully ended with your birth because of your father's choice to protect your mother.

"Rest here. I shall return in a little time." Leon offers you a smile. "And I shall bring you around the garden when I do."

He offers you a kiss to the bone by your eye, calloused fingers against soft skin as he smiles.

You leave him with silence, eyes back to watching the way he continues with training his own guards. He prefers to do many things on his own, hands laboring out in the fields of the garden, pruning the trees and asking for your opinion on what flowers sounded pretty. He does not expect you to know which ones will be pretty since he does not either, but he includes you, letting you sit on the stone bench as he discusses with the hired gardener, listening intently as he's told which flower combinations work best.

"And you, wife?"

"Roses are fine, Leon."

Leon nods, continuing his conversation, and you wonder if this is a man hurt by war and worn down by years of fighting. It is a valiant thing — to be kind even after war. It is an effort to choose to be one way when it is much easier to be another. You fear that you are too plain to stand next to him. When the sun shines, does everyone not flock to bask in the glow of gold? You bask in it on your own, your husband far too attached to you to even consider basking someone else in the shine of his light. It is reserved for you and you alone, and you find that there are women who dream of such warmth.

"Shall we share a chamber, wife?"

"It is not customary not to, no?" You raise a brow. "There is no reason to, Leon."

"Is it so wrong to wish to be by my wife?"

"You spoil me rotten."

"If not me, then who?"

You move into Leon's room, your closet moving alongside you, maids whispering amongst themselves of how strange it is that the master would mention residing with the mistress if not to have a child. Yet, when it is night and Leon pulls you to the balcony with a duvet wrapped around you as he kneels by your feet and shows you the stars, you wonder if there is some way you can love him back. Will time make the heart grow fonder? Will you learn to love Leon the way he deserves to be adored by the time that you both have children? You do not want such a curse to befall your children.

"And that one is Vega."

"The merchant the other day told tales of her and Altair."

"So in love that they neglected their duties, was it?" You stare up. "How I wish that were me."

"Am I not loveable, wife?"

"No, you deserve far more affection than that I can offer to you." You hum, pulling him up to have a seat by you.

"We have all the time for such."

"Once an heir is born, then we will have less." You hum. "There is always a chance I will pass during childbirth, after all."

"That will not happen." He hums. "I assure you. I shall not bed you until you are comfortable with me as I am you."

"It will take a while, then. Neither of us are young anymore, husband."

"It is alright. If we pass without an heir, then I shall return everything to the princess in my will." He smiles. "There is no rush, beloved."

"I fear that while you do not, I will."

You fall into a mundane life with Leon, taking a stroll in the garden in the morning to check on the roses and their growing progress, eating with him in the hall, and then the two of you separate for you to continue your instrument lessons while he trains the knights. You meet again at night before bed, making use of your time by engaging in conversation, making mention of all that you had done in the day. Is there truly anything new? You do not know. Just what does your husband see in you to spoil you to extent?

"I shall be heading to town." You pull for your old clothes when you were a commoner, refusing the maids' aide to at least make you presentable, and you palm the dry dirt, shaking it into your hair. You look like how you did a long time ago. You nearly do not recognize yourself. You have grown used to the artistry of your day to day life and forgotten your roots.

You meet up with your friend, smiling as she is in her commoner clothes as well.

"So? How's marriage?"

"It is alright." You hum. "Not much has occurred."

"Truly?"

"Truly." You glance at the apples on display. "He refuses to bed me until I can love him."

"How could you not? He has such a charming visage."

"Perhaps something holds me back." You glance at the witch on the street. "Oh, yes, whatever happened to Adaline?"

"Oh, it seems she had been wedded off to the neighboring estate." She taps her chin. "The duchy of Wellesley, if I remember correctly."

You wonder how she is doing. No, you should not wonder over such. The two of you are long gone. It had been gone the second she decided she would be the one rather than you. The king has promised your husband a life of retirement now that Leon is wedded to you. Until you are with an heir, he is not allowed to leave the walls of the kingdom. Something about how Leon needed children or else one of the greatest knights in history would go down as a knight without lineage. You're sure your children would love to hear of their father's achievements in war.

"Do you want children?" You glance at Leon step by you, wine handed to you as you stare down at the garden.

"Why would I not?"

"You do not bed me, insisting that I must love you before have children. We have our lives for the love you crave for me to feel." You press the drink to your lips, staring out. "I will age, and soon, I will not be able to bear children for you."

"That is fine." Leon insists, leaning on the railing. "Children or not, you are more valuable."

"What value do you find in me? Truly, I am none more than your wife. I do not beg, whine, nor give affection to you. What do you see in me to cause you to believe that I am deserving of all of this love?"

"Is it so wrong to love someone?"

You finish the last of your wine, blinking slowly. "No, just not me."

Leon is infatuated with you. Do you know why? You could not care less. All you are to do is bear a child for your husband and move on with life. If you pass, then you pass. If you stay, then you raise the child with your husband — it is that simple. That is what you are to do. The thought of it makes you seem plain and unwanted, eyes blinking slowly as you stare at the witch across from you in the square, raising a brow when your friend yells out an all-too-familiar name.

"Adaline!"

That gets your attention.

"Adaline." You breathe the name as though it's second nature, fingers twitching by your side, heart hammering in your chest.

Yet, she disappears back into the crowd, and all chasing is futile, your legs stuck in place as the clouds of rain brew over your head, looming over both your heart and soul as you rush back to the estate, clothes soaked through and muddied with the dirt from rushing.

"Wife." Leon calls for the servants immediately, drying you up by the fire as he leans against the wall behind you, eyes stuck on your figure as you speak not. "Shall we rest?'

"You not need to be so considerate of me, husband." You stare at the fire, warm colors burning in your eyes as you wave the servant off. "I know you are curious."

"I am fine with you leaving the estate. I only wish that you would be slightly more honest with me when you do."

"I miss an old friend despite her betrayal. It is that simple." You turn around to stare at him. "It is complicated, my heart. Please take a seat."

"Will you tell me?"

"If I collect myself first."

The fire crackles in your eyes, ashes burning and shattering as you stare, words tumbling out of your heart, eyes weary with an age that should not be possible to you. You look both wounded and aged. Leon has only ever seen those eyes on the men who live til sixty, white visible in both their hair and eyes, old age consuming them until they are a shell of their previous self. You should not be capable of such emotion. Leon wonders if that is what stops you from loving him how you wish you could.

"It seemed you shared quite the bond."

"Dare I say it, I believe I had loved her." You sigh. "How heretical of me."

"The bond you establish with the one you lose can not be broken, beloved." Leon hums. "Do visit her, will you? I assure you, she misses you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"The heart knows what it does."

You return to the market, stuck staring at the new woman in red, lips and cheeks rouge with blood, blinking when you remember who she is now.

"Witch." You smile.

"Ah, dearest. What brings you to me? Your friend visited last, not you." She tilts her head. "Concerning your husband?"

"You asked my friend once."

"Do you live waiting for something to happen." She hums. "And?"

"She asked me, and surely, after that, I was wedded despite not doing anything." You hum. "Let me treat you at the pub, I insist."

"And what do you have to treat me for?"

You lower your voice, humming slowly. "Is there a reason to treat an old friend to a drink?"

"I am afraid—"

"Adaline." You call her by name, watching as she tenses under your grip. "I beg of you, speak to me."

"What is there to speak of?"

"How is life? Why have you decided to return? Is it true that your husband has fallen ill?"

"I do not care for that man. I took the scar for you. It is that simple."

"So the rumors were true." You reach out for her forearm, squeezing as she grimaces. "He had sold you."

"It was not something I could not handle."

"There was no need. Mother could have rejected on our behalf." You whisper. "He would not have won against father's blade."

"I had to. I could not let the others take the hit in our village. Everyone raised me, so it was only fair that I would pay them back with the same love."

Your expression falls, eyes hurt as she lowers her voice under the moon.

"I sent your husband your way." Adaline swallows. "He had visited the brothel, ending up in my hand, and for that moment in time, all I could imagine was how... sweet and loving he would have been if he met you. I told him of a girl with breathtaking eyes and brilliant features, telling him all that you had always adored. I had prayed earnestly that he would find you and you would be the one. I wished that you would not have to suffer the same fate as I."

"Why did you take the marriage in my stead?"

"I could survive being sold off, you could not." She whispers. "Your hands only know the warmth of your loved ones and the livestock in your home. My hands have become rough because of the blade. Beloved, it was for you. It was always for you."

"Then return to me. Return to me if I am your beloved."

"Your husband could not allow such a thing."

"You do not know that." You mumble. "I beg of you. I shall kneel if needed. Return to me, my moon."

Adaline shakes her head, offering you a gentle squeeze of your hand instead, taking two steps back before retreating into the shadows where you can no longer find her. You stay standing, eyes trailed on where she was last in the shadow until Leon finds you in the dust, hands sliding over your shoulders as you stand there and let out silent tears.

"Beloved."

Leon does not answer, so you try again.

"Husband, beloved."

"Yes?"

"Let us return home."

"Of course."

You heal after that, affection easier at your fingertips when you reach for Leon, lips curled upwards when you rub your eyes at waking.

"How are you, wife?"

"I am alright, beloved." You smile at him, lips pulled up at the edges, sun glowing against your husband as he covers your eyes. "my apologies you had to tangle yourself with my mess."

"That is quite alright." He whispers, mug handed to you as you blink up at him. "Do you feel better?"

"Yes." You whisper. "I promise."

"Good." He mumbles. "Shall we dine?"

"Yes."

The mess of strings doesn't untangle immediately. Leon notices that you are more gentle, fingers kind against his while the two of you walk in the garden, hand tucked around his arm as you let him tell you how the flowers have been. You tell him you can deal with the garden now that you have fully settled into the role of his wife, and he tells you he is alright with it. There is not much to do, and even when you watch jousting with Leon and enjoy dinner with the king every now and then, life is simple.

You're not too sure if you're content with living like that.

"Shall we try for child?"

Leon takes your offer this time. You insist that you must bear him a son, and you seem to be anxious of time. His hands are calloused against yours, bruises of purple on your skin, the sound of your cries echoing down the hall of the residence, quiet prayers that you would be with child spreading through the hall through rumors, and the day that the alcohol finally reacts, you exhale. Leon takes extra care of you during the time, listening to the priests as they pray for you to be with son, but Leon does not care. He asks for prayers for your safety instead. There is always a sense of forbearing because you shake your head when he requests for your health.

"Beloved, you love me."

"I do." You hum.

"Then why do you not let me love you back?"

You do not answer, staring out at the flowers instead.

"If it is a daughter, I do earnestly hope that I get to braid flowers into her hair." You mumble. "And if it is a son, then I have served my purpose."

"I do hope that she is a daughter. That way, you will still think you are use to me."

"And then?"

"And then, I would still lay bare with you, skin soft against mine."

Your remaining days are spent walking with your husband, pregnancy heavy on your body as your back is sore, eyes distant as Leon seems to ponder over what is on your mind. His hands are gentle with your feet, callouses rough against your fingers as you continue staring at the sunset.

"We should prepare for a grave."

"For whom?"

"I do not know. Where do you think it would be nice to be buried?"

"And why not the garden?"

"At the center of the maze?"

Leon gets the sense that you have made peace with the idea of death one day. You seem to be prepared to pass at all times, and you refuse to share whether or not it is pregnancy-related. Instead, you tell him of how you would like to prepare your grave, telling him of flowers that he should plant by them, and he tells you not to worry. You will survive, he tells you. He tells you that you will live, and in the case that a decision must be made, it must be you saved over the child.

You offer him a sad smile in response.

When the child arrives, you are tended to, Leon praying quietly outside of your room, managing the household's affairs from the outside of your door at all times, ignoring the desk that he has, settling for a chair outside of the room you are in. The sound of your agony rattles the walls of the estate, and Leon furrows his brows, pacing back and forth, growing restless when the cries of a child is heard, the nurses opening the door as you offer Leon a sad smile.

"You must use the wet nurse." You whisper.

"Of course I will." He mumbles, forehead pressed to yours as he rests his hand on the child's blanket. "It will be for you."

"No." You whisper. "It will be for the child."

Leon furrows his brows, blinking at you as you offer him a sad smile.

"It is fortunate that it is a son."

"No." He mumbles. "No, no. Beloved, do not say that."

"I have lost too much blood." You whisper. "It is a son. It is your son."

"I do not want him if it means the loss of you." He mumbles. "Beloved, no. no. No."

"It is unfortunate." Your voice grows weak, the nurses trying their best to clean you up. "I would have enjoyed being your wife for just a little longer."

Leon yells as the nurses dive in to try and help you, and Leon watches in horror in the corner of the room as you close your eyes, body relaxing, There is a slight smile on your face, and Leon watches in horror as you look so peaceful, the child crying for your warmth as death steals it from him, and Leon's warmth replacing your stolen one as he holds the child to him. The crying does not stop, but neither does the horror on Leon's face as the nun shakes her head, offering a look of pity to Leon as he gasps for air.

The boy cries in his arms, a child's cries ringing in his ears as the news of your death rings as well, and the wet nurse taking the child as Leon steadies himself with the chair, blinking slowly as he processes the news. The world has ended. The battle has left him with nothing, and he is back in the war. It is a flood of memories, flushing down his system as he stands there, numb with the thought of you having passes, his steps heavy as he walks to you, taking your hand in his, ring on your finger as he blinks slowly. The news must spread.

He must tell your parents that he has killed their beloved daughter for the sake of his son.

He must tell your friend that you have passed to bear him a son.

He must tell Adaline that you have passed.

He must live with the guilt that he has caused you to pass because he had not been a good husband — that the heavens must have struck you down because he had been unfaithful, that he had not loved you as he should have the way God ordained. Instead, he now bears the responsibility of a son, small hands delicate against his, your cold ones returned to the ground in the garden.

You had known. Unconsciously, you had known.

Leon had picked it up too. You had been preparing to let him down slowly — gently, dare he say it.

But you have passed, and he is left where you have left him, hands calloused compared to yours, fingers rougher than yours would have been. He is not fit to raise a child without you. Instead, the bundle of what should have been joy is just a bundle in his arms, and when he finds your features on his son, he is full of the same bitterness he is sure you felt when you had been left behind. You would not like that.

He tries to imagine what you would do.

Your hands would be gentle while tending to the baby.

You would watch as Leon teaches the child to wield the sword.

You would scold the boy for poor courtesy — you would reprimand him for being unkind to others.

You would watch as he falls in love and weds, bands on his fingers, hair like yours fluttering in the wind of the chapel as he gives his heart to her.

And, he's sure you would have been proud when Leon is buried next to you in your garden of love.

Perhaps, then, he shall find you once more.

HELP SWEETHEART I HAVE COMMENTS ON FOR GUEST USERS ON AO3 TOO but tysm for dropping by in the inbox!! You're so sweet <33333 unless u wanna post on ao3 you don't rlly need an acc to interact or leave kudos!! some ppl have comments on only registered users but I don't I just keep it on everyone

Leon is um. canonically an orphan so the mommy issues is not really?? possible?? Also the champagne after a race is a F1 tradition LOL but tysm!! the pinterest board was all vivi <3

(sorry im dropping by as an ask instead of posting it bc it does have spoilers n it's not posted on tumblr yet 😔)

by mommy issues i didnt mean like actually mother... dont people refer to begging for attention as a mommy issue or is that js my dumbass???

eoridiwejsiareiw yayayay!! trust the pinterest board matches it perfectlyyyy and when it posts on tumblr ill be ready!!!